In 1842, she wrote to an artist friend in Frankfort, "I am fully satisfied that I entertain no prejudices, and honestly wish to know God's will. He has already cleared away many a spiritual obstacle, and transformed much within me. When it is his holy will to lead me into the church, I am confident that he will remove every remaining hinderance to my conviction." She thought, however, that the church did not give Protestants a very easy time. Their acceptance of the Tridentine confession of faith was a hard matter. Still, her mind had already attained to such clearness that she now desired the instruction of some competent priest. Through the instrumentality of Diepenbrock, a theological teacher was brought to her, who gained her confidence. She earnestly began her task, zealously and perseveringly devoting to it several hours a week for an entire year. The structure of Catholic faith began to open itself to her now with all its interior consistency and harmony. One scruple after another vanished, including those which finally troubled her; as, for instance, the expression, "Mother of God;" the alleged mutilation of the holy sacrament, by withdrawal of the cup from the laity, etc. In the words of her spiritual guide, she learned to distinguish that which is divine, and essential, and immutable in the church, from that which is human, and incidental, and mutable; and what had hitherto proved an insurmountable obstacle, the seemingly mechanical, and often rude devotions of the common people, as also the worldly splendor of the hierarchy--this ceased to trouble her more. {226} In the autumn of 1843, Miss Linder made another tour to the Tyrol and Upper Italy, and few could surmise that she was so near to the decisive step. She writes from Munich, on the 16th of October, "I have just made with the Schuberts a somewhat fatiguing trip as far as Verona, where, by the way, I had almost come to a standstill, to copy a picture there. We then remained for a couple of weeks in Botzen, where all was so quiet, and reposeful, and secluded, that it was right grateful to me." Amid this stillness and seclusion to which she abandoned herself, still more than in Munich, was finally brought to maturity "the great work of redemption."