There is, however, a serious, and most embarrassing difficulty in the way of discussing the phases and vicissitudes of one’s ethical development. Self-appraisement is necessarily involved in the narration. The outstanding subject of ethics is the self and its relations. The physicist, the chemist, the biologist, however the methods they use may differ in other respects, agree in the endeavor to eliminate the personal equation. The psychologist likewise does his best to see the procession that moves across the inner stage like an interested but detached spectator. In the case of ethics, however, the personal factor cannot be eliminated, because the personal factor is just the Alpha and the Omega of the whole matter; and if this be left out of account, the very object to be studied disappears. Ethical standards are exacting, separated often from performance by the widest interval. To set up a standard, therefore, is to reflect upon oneself, to expose oneself to the backstroke of one’s own deliverances, to be plunged perhaps into deep pits of self-humiliation. How shall anyone have the courage to face so searching a test, or the hardihood to discuss with a lofty air, and to recommend to others ideals of conduct against which he knows that he daily offends? How can anyone teach ethics or write about it? The words of the Sermon on the Mount, “Judge not that ye be not judged,” seem to apply very closely. Do not judge others, do not lay down the law for others, because in so doing you will be judged in the inner forum, becoming a repulsive object in your own eyes, or standing forth a whited sepulcher. In brief, to touch the subject of ethics is to handle a knife that cuts both ways, to cast a weapon which returns upon him who sends it.