Now and again Luther, by means of his witticisms, tried to teach his wife some wholesome lessons. The titles by which he addresses her may have been intended as delicate hints that her management of the household was somewhat lordly and high-handed: My Lord Katey, Lord Moses, my Chain (Kette) (“_catena mea_”). To seek to infer from this that she was a “tyrant,” or to see in it an admission on his part that he was but her slave, would be as mistaken as to be shocked at his manner of addressing her elsewhere in his letters, e.g. “to the holy, careful lady, the most holy lady Doctor; to my beloved lady Doctor Self-martyr; to the deeply-learned Lady Catherine,” etc. It has already been pointed out that many of the misunderstandings of which Luther’s opponents were guilty are due to their inability to appreciate his humour; they were thereby led to take seriously as indicative of “unbelief,” statements which in reality were never meant in earnest.[1259] On the other hand, however, certain texts and explanations of Luther’s have, on insufficient grounds, been taken as humorous even by Protestant writers, often because they seemed in some way to cast a slur upon his memory. For instance, his interpretation of the Monk-Calf was quite obviously never intended as a joke,[1260] nor can it thus be explained away as some have recently tried to do. Nor, again, to take an example from Luther’s immediate circle, can Amsdorf’s offer of the nuns in marriage to Spalatin[1261] be dismissed as simply a broad piece of pleasantry. _Humour a Necessity to Luther in his Struggle with Others and with Himself_ There can be no doubt that a remarkable psychological feature is afforded by the combination in Luther of cheerfulness with intense earnestness in work, indeed the persistence of his humour even in later years when gloom had laid a firm hold on his soul constitutes something of a riddle; for even the sufferings of the last period of his life did not avail to stifle his love of a joke, though his jests become perhaps less numerous; they serve, however, to conceal his sadder feelings, a fact which explains why he still so readily has recourse to them. First of all, a man so oppressed with inner difficulties and mental exertion as Luther was, felt sadly the need of relaxation and amusement. His jests served to counteract the strain, physical and mental, resulting from the rush of literary work, sermons, conferences and correspondence. In this we have but a natural process of the nervous system. A further explanation of his cheerfulness is, however, to be found in the wish to prove against his own misgivings and his theological opponents how joyous and confident he was at heart concerning his cause.