In the light of all this, how many human souls could be guiltily cast out as bad? It requires infinite pains and almost infinite knowledge to judge one’s physical condition. A man is suffering from some ailment and a doctor is called to treat him. The disease may be of long standing and located in some organ beyond the reach of sight and hearing; he patiently watches every symptom to know the real condition of the physical man and the cause that made him ill. He calls the wisest surgeons to consult and these may never be able to locate the disease, or the cause that made the patient as he is. But twelve untutored jurors and a judge wantonly and carelessly set themselves up to pass on the condition of a human soul—a soul no man has seen or by any chance can ever see,—a life they do not know and could not understand and do not even seek to understand. They take this soul and, with their poor light, which at the best is blackest darkness, they pronounce it bad, and in violence and malice deny it the right of fellowship with its human brothers, each equally a portion of the great Infinite which takes all of good and all of bad and makes of these one great, divine, inclusive whole. The judge must and does view the conduct of his victim according to his own ideas of right and wrong. At his best he takes with him to the judgment tribunal every prejudice, bias and belief that his education, surroundings and heredity have left on him. He measures the condemned by the ideal man, and the ideal man must be himself, or one made from his weak, fallible concepts of right and wrong. Naturally he places little weight or value upon those vices which are a portion of his own character, or those virtues which he does not possess, or especially admire. A judge can see no character or virtue in an accused man, who would rather suffer imprisonment or death than to betray his fellows. In the judgment of the courts the betrayer is rewarded, the man of character and worth condemned. A judge reads the code, “Thou shalt not steal.” He cannot understand how a so-called thief should have forcibly taken a paltry sum. He cannot conceive that he, himself, could under any circumstances have done the like. Such conduct must come from a depraved and wicked heart—a devil that dwells within the culprit. The common thief looks at the judge arrayed in fine linen and living in luxury and ease, with nothing to do but pass judgment on his fellowman. He dimly understands how much easier it is for the judge to obtain his large salary than for him to get the poor wages of his hazardous and shifting trade. But the judge does not begin to comprehend that, if he could not have received his salary or obtained a tolerable life in any of the endless grades of activity between his profession and the thief’s, very easily he might have been the victim with some other fortunate man to pronounce him bad. Human judgments are not passed in view of all the circumstances of the case.