the cities,
which accordingly sent an embassy to Charles. They succeeded in
inducing him to disallow both laws.

[Sidenote: Diet of Nuremberg, 1524]

The next Diet, which assembled at Nuremberg early in 1524, naturally
refrained from passing more futile laws for the emperor to veto, but on
the other hand it took a stronger stand than ever on the religious
question. The Edict of Worms was still nominally in force and was
still to all intents and purposes flouted. Luther was at large and his
followers were gaining. In reply to a demand from the government that
the Edict should be strictly carried out, the Diet passed a resolution
that it should be observed by each state as far as its prince deemed it
possible. Despairing of an oecumenical council the estates demanded
that a {86} German national synod be called at Spires before the close
of the year with power to decide on what was to be done for the time
being.

There is no doubt that by this time the public opinion of North
Germany, at least, was thoroughly Lutheran. Ferdinand hardly
exaggerated when he wrote his brother that throughout the Empire there
was scarce one person in a thousand not infected with the new
doctrines. [Sidenote: 1523] The place now occupied by newspapers and
weekly reviews was taken by a vast swarm of pamphlets, most of which
have survived. [Sidenote: Popular pamphlets] Those of the years
immediately following the Diet of Worms reveal the first enthusiasm of
the people for the "gospel." The greater part of the broadsides
produced are concerned with the leader and his doctrines. The
comparison of him to Huss was a favorite one. One pamphleteer, at
least, drew the parallel between his trial at Worms and that of Christ
before Pilate. The whole bent of men's minds was theological.
Doctrines which now seem a little quaint and trite were argued with new
fervor by each writer. The destruction of images, the question of the
real presence in the sacrament, justification by faith, and free will
were disputed. Above all the Bible was lauded in the new translation,
and the priests continued, as before, to be the favorite butt of
sarcasm.

Among the very many writers of these tracts the playwright of
Nuremberg, Hans Sachs, took a prominent place. In 1523 he published
his poem on "the Nightingale of Wittenberg, whose voice sounds in the
glorious dawn over hill and dale." This bird is, of course, Luther,
and the fierce lion who has sough