Any other influence than mild, patient instruction was, once for all, excluded by her. Even the holiest zeal, if it sought, in any way, to crowd in upon her, could only force a nature like hers into antagonism, and check everything like quiet development. {223} With all her humility, this lady possessed the self-reliance and genuine independence of a Swiss. She sought the way of truth with such deep longing that she willingly accepted guidance; but with such severe scrutiny, that she was not to be confused, and was inaccessible to every kind of coaxing from any side. For, from the quarter of her old theological standpoint there was no lack of friendly advice, or of opinions bringing great weight with them,--supposing that mere human opinions could ever have decided such a question. Even raillery was not lacking. Platen gave his particular attention to this kind of weapon, and put himself to no little trouble to ridicule her out of her Catholic proclivities. The theological tendency she had taken since the days passed at Sorrento had become to the poet of the _Abassiden_ altogether "too romantic," and he hoped to cool her religious zeal with a cold irony. Thus, he once satirically addressed himself to her from Florence, (February 24th, 1835,) "Might one be so bold as to enquire what progress you have made in your conversion to the only saving church; or is this a secret? In case of a change of religion, I trust you will follow the advice of a friend, and turn, rather, to the Greek Church. For, if you prize Catholicism on account of its antiquity, the Greek Church is doubtless older. And is it the ceremonial which particularly attracts you; then here, too, is the Greek service far more aesthetic and imposing." Count Platen doubtless felt that in a theological controversy he was no match for his well-informed friend; and therefore, in his letters he appealed to her as an artiste. True, the barrenness of Protestantism in art he quietly admitted; but all the better success he promised himself in an attempt to belittle the merit of the church in the field of art by certain cunning sophistries. In several of his letters he stumbled upon the neither very bright nor novel idea of presenting the church as at an obsolete standpoint. "Certainly," he admonishes the artist, "Catholicity, as a thing of a former age, is highly to be esteemed, but not for the present. Her time is past, even for art. Perhaps by and by an artera may dawn upon her, but this will be of a purely aesthetic nature; for a blending of art with religion is no longer among the possibilities," etc. The thought that his friend, after all, might take some such fatal step evidently gave the poet much uneasiness; for even in his last letter to her, written but two weeks before his death, he makes another attempt at the same style of argument. It is contained in a description of Palermo, written at Naples, September 7th, 1835: "I received your welcome