Luther is a man whose character it is difficult to appreciate exactly.
At times he spoke and wrote as if he were endowed with a deeply
religious feeling, convinced of the truth of his doctrines, and
anxious only for the success of the work for which he professed to
believe he had been raised up by God. Some of his sermons sounded like
a trumpet call from Heaven, warning the people that the hour for
repentance had drawn nigh, while his conversations with his intimate
friends breathed at times a spirit of piety and fervour redolent of
the apostolic age. This, however, was only one feature of Luther's
character, and, unfortunately, it was a feature that manifested itself
only too rarely. As a general rule his writings, his sermons and
speeches, and, in a word, his whole line of conduct were in direct
opposition to everything that is associated generally in the popular
mind with the true religious reformer. His replies to his opponents,
even to those who, avoiding personalities, addressed themselves
directly to his doctrines, were couched in the most violent and
abusive language. His wild onslaughts and his demands for vengeance on
any one who ventured to question his teaching, whether they were
Catholics, Zwinglians, Sacramentarians or Anabaptists, were the very
antithesis of the spirit of charity and meekness that should
characterise a follower, not to say an apostle, of Christ. Nor were
his over-weening pride and self-confidence in keeping with the spirit
of meekness and humility inculcated so frequently in the writings of
the New Testament.

In his letters, and more especially in his familiar intercourse with
his friends,[37] his conversation was frequently risky and indecent;
his relations with women, at least before his marriage with Catherine
Bora, were, to put it mildly, not above suspicion, as is evident from
his own letters and the letters of his most devoted supporters; while