her for foreign. Every vice has two
names; and we call it by its flattering and minimising one when we
commit it, and by its ugly one when our neighbour does it. Everybody can
see the hump on his friend's shoulders, but it takes some effort to see
our own. David was angry enough at the man who stole his neighbour's ewe
lamb, but quite unaware that he was guilty of a meaner, crueller theft.
The mote can be seen; but the beam, big though it is, needs to be
'considered.' So it often escapes notice, and will surely do so, if we
are yielding to the temptation of harsh judgment of others. Every one
may be aware of faults of his own very much bigger than any that he can
see in another, for each of us may fathom the depth of our own
sinfulness in motive and unspoken, unacted thought, while we can see
only the surface acts of others.

Our Lord points out, in verse 4, a still more subtle form of this harsh
judgment, when it assumes the appearance of solicitude for the
improvement of others, and He thus teaches us that all honest desire to
help in the moral reformation of our neighbours must be preceded by
earnest efforts at mending our own conduct. If we have grave faults of
our own undetected and unconquered, we are incapable either of judging
or of helping our brethren. Such efforts will be hypocritical, for they
pretend to come from genuine zeal for righteousness and care for
another's good, whereas their real root is simply censorious
exaggeration of a neighbour's faults; they imply that the person
affected with such a tender care for another's eyes has his own in good
condition. A blind guide is bad enough, but a blind oculist is a still
more ridiculous anomaly. Note, too, that the result of clearing our own
vision is beautifully put as being, not ability to see, but ability to
cure, our fellows. It is only the experience of the pain of casting out
a darling evil, and the consciousness of God's pitying mercy as given
to us, that makes the eye keen enough, and the hand steady and gentle
enough, to pull out the mote. It is a delicate operation, and one which
a clumsy operator may make very painful, and useless, after all. A rough
finger or a harsh spirit makes success impossible.

II. Verse 6 comes in singular juxtaposition with the preceding warning
against uncharitable judgments. Christ's calling men dogs and swine does
not sound like obeying His own precept. But the very shock which the
words give at first hearing is part