About the middle of the 10th Century, Bishop Ulric of Constance bequeathed “a very large hogshead of good old wine” to the Convent of St. Gall, on condition that the Monks should themselves be at the trouble of bringing it home. Unluckily, the waggon broke not far from the Convent, and the hogshead fell into a deep pit: it was recovered with great difficulty, and conveyed home in triumph; where in remembrance of this event a great feast was held, at which the Monks, wearied with their exertions in its rescue, did not spare the Bishop’s bequest. About midnight (when all were buried in sleep, overcome by fatigue and the strength of liquor) a fire broke out in the Convent, and consumed it, the Monks however escaped with their lives; and the Abbot is said to have fallen on his knees and thanked Heaven for its mercies, on hearing that though the Convent was destroyed, he had saved his strong-box, and the remainder of the Bishop’s hogshead.—This probably furnished the subject of the satirical ballad, mentioned above. _Emmeline to Amabel._ Difficult as it was, I have accomplished my painful confession to Urania, and I feel my heart relieved; I also made another important discovery to her, but alas! without effect. It related to Count Donat’s views upon the youthful Helen of Homburg. As was expected, her parents rejected his suit, and it was not concealed from him, that she was already betrothed to Eginhart of Torrenburg. My father’s spies brought him intelligence, that on Easter-Monday Helen was to be conducted to her bridegroom’s Castle; and Count Donat chose his time so well, that it was almost impossible for his unfortunate victim to escape him. He set forward suddenly with the greatest part of his soldiery; and this morning I heard with horror, that Helen has fallen into his hands! she has been carried by him to the Castle of Upper Halbstein, where he is determined to make her his wife either by fair means or violence, before her friends have time to effect her rescue. My heart bleeds for the poor Helen! I have already received orders to prepare for my departure to the Convent; it is thought desirable, that as soon as the nuptial festivities are over, I should no longer make the Castle of Sargans my residence, Count Donat supposing that my presence would be disagreeable to his new bride. Alas! dear Helen, my presence _disagreeable_ to you? though I could not relieve you from the weight of your cruel destiny, surely the society of the friend of your childhood, of a companion in sorrow, would enable you to bear them with greater fortitude.