Without attempting further to influence her conduct, let Elizabeth be permitted to act according to her own pleasure: I know her motives; I know that in the end we shall have reason to be satisfied with her. I am informed also, that she has already taken some such steps towards settling this important business as will bear but one interpretation. Letters have been received from her by our friend the Seneschal, a man whose superior for probity is not to be found in Zurich; in these letters Elizabeth explains the whole transaction, requests him to act as an impartial judge, and engages to obey his decision blindly. You know well the venerable Albert Reding, to whose justice the whole country refers every dispute of consequence; think you, he will decide to the disadvantage of innocence? Not that I have obtained my knowledge of these secret particulars from Albert himself, the delicacy of whose opinions on this species of confidence is extreme. In truth, he carries that delicacy so far, that he anxiously avoids mentioning the disputes between the Countess and her vassals, and endeavours, when others speak of them, to listen with a cold indifferent air: but I read plainly on his serious brow that he meditates deeply on the subject; he weighs the bequest of Count Frederick, and the situation of the unfortunate sisters, and I can prophecy to which side the balance will incline. He, who never yet gave an unfair judgment; he, who has never deserved to have an appeal made from his decision, cannot surely pronounce erroneously upon a business like this. Your intention of laying before Elizabeth’s eyes the whole history of the rejected heiresses of Torrenburg is well imagined, and may produce a good effect: but what shall I say to you respecting your imprudence, in advising her to inspect the private annals of the house of Sargans? My good but inconsiderate friend, are you then ignorant of the part which your Abbey plays in these memorials of the days of yore? Is it adviseable, think you, to lay before the laity the transgressions of the church? Let us rejoice, that we walk ourselves in the paths of virtue, without endeavouring to make our own merits appear more shining, by contrasting them with the crimes of our predecessors. Yet I know well, that so mean a design was far from the thoughts of my good Conrad; he has only erred through want of consideration. I shall immediately endeavour, if possible, to repair your fault; already must letters from me have reached the Abbess of Zurich, and I hope that Elizabeth will not be suffered to peruse a single line of the papers. It is but a short time since these curious Memoirs were in my possession; and I can assure you (if, as I take for granted, you are not already conscious of it) they contain many circumstances, which for the honour of the Abbey of Curwald, and (with grief I write it) for that of some of my own ancestors, had better remain for ever unknown.