Judge not, that ye be not judged.—MATT. vii. 1.
Why be boldest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but perceivest not the beam that is in thine own eye?—LUKE vi. 41.
Judge not; the workings of his brain
And of his heart thou canst not see;
What looks to thy dim eyes a stain,
In God’s pure light may only be
A scar, brought from some well-won field,
Where thou wouldst only faint and yield.
ADELAIDE A. PROCTER.
When you behold an aspect for whose constant gloom and frown you cannot account, whose unvarying cloud exasperates you by its apparent causelessness, be sure that there is a canker somewhere, and a canker not the less deeply corroding because concealed.
While we are coldly discussing a man’s career, sneering at his mistakes, blaming his rashness, and labelling his opinions—”Evangelical and narrow,” or “Latitudinarian and Pantheistic,” or “Anglican and supercilious”—that man, in his solitude, is perhaps shedding hot tears because his sacrifice is a hard one, because strength and patience are failing him to speak the difficult word, and do the difficult deed.