Some blame him for not using kid gloves in handling the ferocious
bulls, bears, and he-goats with whom he had to do. But what,
otherwise, would have become of the Reformation? His age was savage,
and the men he had to meet were savage, and the matters at stake
touched the very life of the world. What would a Chesterfield or an
Addison have been in such a contest? Erasmus said he had horns, and
knew how to use them, but that Germany needed just such a master. He
understood the situation. "These gnarled logs," said he, "will not
split without iron wedges and heavy malls. The air will not clear
without lightning and thunder."[23]
But if he was rough betimes, he could be as gentle and tender as a
maiden, and true to himself in both. He could fight monsters all day,
and in the evening take his lute, gaze at the stars, sing psalms, and
muse upon the clouds, the fields, the flowers, the birds, dissolved in
melody and devotion. Feared by the mighty of the earth, the dictator
and reprimander of kings, the children loved him, and his great heart
was as playful among them as one of themselves. If he was harsh and
unsparing upon hypocrites, malignants, and fools, he called things by
their right names, and still was as loving as he was brave. Since King
David's lament over Absalom no more tender or pathetic scene has
appeared in history or in fiction than his outpouring of paternal love
and grief over the deathbed, coffin, and grave of his young and
precious daughter Madeleine. "I know of few things more touching,"
says Carlyle, "than those soft breathings of affection, soft as a
child's or a mother's, in this great wild heart of Luther;" and adds:
"I will call this Luther a true Great Man; great in intellect, in
courage, affection, and integrity; one of our most lovable and
precious men. Great not as a hewn obelisk, but as an Alpine mountain,
so simple, honest, spontaneous; not setting up to be great at all;
there for quite another purpose than being great. Ah, yes, unsubduable
granite, piercing far and wide into the Heavens; yet, in the clefts of
it, fountains, green, beautiful valleys with flowers. A right
Spiritual Hero and Prophet; once more, a true Son of Nature and Fact,
for whom these centuries, and many that are yet to come, will be
thankful to Heaven."