e the philosopher
approves or condemns actions instead of censuring beliefs. Theology,
however, consistently clings to its old habits. "Infidels" must not be
argued with but threatened, not convinced but libelled; and when these
weapons are futile there ensues the persecution of silence. That serves
for a time, but only for a time; it may obstruct, but it cannot prevent,
the spread of unbelief. It is like a veil against the light. It may
obscure the dawn to the dull-eyed and the uninquisitive, but presently
the blindest sluggards in the penfolds of faith will see that the sun
has risen.

LUTHER AND THE DEVIL.

"Luther," says Heine, "was not only the greatest, but also the most
thoroughly German, hero of our history." Carlyle says that "no more
valiant man, no mortal heart to be called _braver_, ever lived in that
Teutonic kindred, whose character is valor." Michelet calls him "the
Arminius of modern Germany." Twenty tributes to Luther's greatness might
be added, all more or less memorable; but these, from three very diverse
men, will suffice for our present purpose. Martin Luther _was_ a great
man. Whoever questions it must appeal to new definitions.

A great difference lay between the cold, saturnine Pope of Geneva and
the frank, exuberant hero of the German Reformation. Their doctrines
were similar; there was a likeness between their mistakes; but what
a diversity in their natures! Calvin was the perfect type of the
theological pedant--vain, meagre, and arid; while Luther had in him,
as Heine remarks, "something aboriginal"; and the world has, after all,
profited by "the God-like brutality of Brother Martin."

The nature of this great man was suited to his task. It required no
great intellectual power to see through the tricks of Papal priestcraft,
which had, indeed, been the jest of the educated and thoughtful for
generations. But it required gigantic courage to become the spokesman
of discontent, to attack an imposture which was supported by universal
popular credulity, by a well-nigh omnipotent Church, and by the
keen-edged, merciless swords of kings and emperors. Still more, it
required an indisputable elevation of nature to attack the imposture
where, as in the sale of indulgences, it threatened the very essence of
personal and social morality. Hundreds of persons may be hatching a
new truth in unknown concert, but when a battle for humanity has to be
fought, someone must begin, and begin decisively. Lu