Luther, during all his life, was a man of prayer. Although he was opposed to mechanical formality in regard to special times and seasons, as he had been taught in the church of Rome, yet he maintained a certain order and regularity in the performance of this Christian duty. Matthesius, one of his biographers, and a cotemporary, says, “Every morning and evening, and often during meals, he engaged in prayer. Besides this, he repeated the smaller catechism and read the Psalter. * * * In all important undertakings, prayer was the beginning, middle, and end.” “I hold,” says Luther, “my prayer to be stronger than Satan himself, and if that were not the case it would long since have been quite different with Luther. If I remit prayer a single day, I lose a large portion of the fire of faith.” His writings contain many sparkling gems on the subject of prayer. Fondly as he was attached to his children, yet he never showed a culpable indifference to their errors, and, least of all, when they were unruly or displayed anything like ingratitude or deception. On one occasion when John, at twelve years of age, was guilty of a gross impropriety, he would not allow him to come into his presence for three days, and paid no regard to the intercessions of the tender mother and of his intimate friends, Jonas and Cruciger, but forgave him only after he had repented of his fault and humbly begged for pardon. He said, “I would rather have a dead son than a rude and naughty living one. Paul has not in vain said, ‘A bishop must be one who ruleth well his own house, having his children in subjection, so that other people may be edified, witnessing a good example, and not be offended.’ We ministers are elevated to such a high position in order to set a good example to others. But our uncivil children give offence to other people. Our boys wish to take advantage of our position and privileges, and sin openly. People do not inform me of the faults of mine, but conceal it from me. The common saying is fulfilled, ‘We do not know the mischief done in our own families; we only discover it when it has become the town-talk.’ Hence we must chastise them, and not connive at their follies.” Once, when he saw a youth of fine personal appearance and uncommon abilities, but of corrupt morals, he exclaimed, “Ah! how much evil an over indulgence occasions! Children are spoiled by allowing them too much liberty; hence I shall not overlook the faults of my son John, nor shall I be as familiar with him hereafter as with his little sister.” But Luther, though he received from his father a severe training, and was roughly treated at school, was too well acquainted with human nature not to know that undue severity in all things created a cowardly, slavish fear in the minds of some children, and obstinacy and dissimulation in others. Hence he pursued the golden medium, and tried to accomplish his purpose by kind and yet earnest admonitions. “I will not chastise Hans