Görres won the admiration of Count Montalembert, the leader of the French Catholics, by his polemical feats. In Catholic Germany he was regarded as a father of the Church, and called "the Catholic Luther." He succeeded in drawing the Bavarian Government into the movement; the opponents of the Protestant Prussian Government were allowed to publish their lucubrations unchecked in the Bavarian press, and it was Görres' hope that Bavaria, as an important Catholic power, would openly take up the contest. No expression of politico-religious fanaticism was too outrageous for him. He went the length of declaring that the Government, by permitting mixed marriages, compelled the Catholic parent to bring up "twofold bastards"--and this in the face of the fact that the King of Bavaria was the son of a Protestant mother and had married a Protestant wife. At the time of the violent dispute as to the authenticity of the coat of the Saviour preserved at Trèves, Görres was highly delighted with the success of a pilgrimage to Trèves, which was promptly organised, and in which the Rhinelanders, to the number of a million, took part, in order to annoy the Protestant Prussians. To him this pilgrimage was "the triumph of the victorious Church." The argument that the holy garment could not be genuine, seeing that several other places possessed similar coats, he dismissed with a reference to the miraculous multiplication of loaves recorded in the New Testament.[1] The Romantic literary theory that manner is something absolutely independent of matter, was a theory put into practice in politics by Friedrich von Gentz. We called Kleist the German Mérimée; for several reasons Gentz might be called the German Talleyrand. In his mature years he might, like Metternich, have written under his own portrait: "Nur kein Pathos!" ("Anything except pathos!") He is the very embodiment of Romantic irony, the incarnate spirit of _Lucinde_. He does not, however, become a typical figure until he is over forty, at the time when a period of diplomatic activity succeeded to revolutionary upheavals and the Napoleonic wars, the time when the watchword was reaction, that is to say, quiet--quiet at any price, extinction of all the European conflagrations, and rest, profound rest for the sick, the weary, and the convalescent peoples; when consequently, as in a sick room, the great aim was to get rid as quietly as possible of disturbers of the peace and prevent all noise and uproar. "Gentz," says Gottschall, "understood how to give to the official publications that indescribable polish, that classic smoothness, that Olympian dignity which, untouched by the fate of mortals, allows no drop of nectar and ambrosia to be spilled from the cup of the gods, though blood may be flowing in torrents in the regions below. This distinguished manner of passing lightly over the small shocks by which nations were shattered into fragments, gave a