f had now touched the burning
match to the powder. To understand why he, Blomberg, who wished only the
best fortune to every good Christian, would fain have this thorough
scoundrel suffer all the torments of hell, the young knight must first
learn what had happened in Ratisbon since the last Reichstag.

Until then the good city had resisted the accursed new religious
doctrines which had gained a victory in Nuremberg and the other cities of
the empire.

Here also, as Wolf himself had probably experienced, there had been no
lack of inclination toward the Lutheran doctrine. It was certainly
natural, since it suited the stomach better to fill itself, even during
Lent, than to renounce meat; since there were shameless priests who would
rather embrace a woman than to remain unmarried; since the Church
property bestowed by pious souls was a welcome morsel to princes and to
cities, and, finally, because licentiousness was more relished than
wholesome discipline. The wicked desires inspired by all the evil spirits
and their tool, the Antichrist Luther, had gained the upper hand here
also, and Dr. Hiltner, above all others, had prepared the way for them in
Ratisbon. Even at the last Reichstag his Majesty the Emperor had
earnestly, but with almost too much gracious forbearance, endeavoured to
effect a union between the contending parties, but directly after his
departure from the city rebellion raised its head with boundless
insolence. The very next year the Council formally introduced the evil
which they called ecclesiastical reformation. The blinded people flocked
to the new parish church to attend the first service, which they called
"Protestant." Then the mischief hastened forward with gigantic strides.

"Last year," cried the old gentleman, hoarse with indignation, striking
the table with his clenched fist as if he were in camp, "I saw them with
my own eyes throw down and drag away, I know not where, the pillar with
the beautiful image of Mary, the masterpiece of Erhard Heydenreich, the
architect of the cathedral, which stood in front of the new parish
church. Songs had been composed in her honour, and she was dear and
precious to you from early childhood, as well as to every native of
Ratisbon; the precentor--God rest his soul!--read to me from your letter
from Rome what exquisite works of art you saw there every day, but that
you still remembered with pleasure the beautiful Virgin at home.

"But what do these impious wre