in our own day.  The tongue can no man tame, and no wonder, for it is set on fire of hell.  ’I shall show you,’ says Rutherford, ’what I would fain be at myself, howbeit I always come short of my purpose.’  Rutherford made many enemies both as a preacher and as a doctrinal and an ecclesiastical controversialist.  He was a hot, if not a bad-blooded man himself, and he raised both hot and bad blood in other men.  He was a passionate-hearted man, was Rutherford; he would not have been our sainted Samuel Rutherford if he had not had a fast and a high-beating heart.  And his passionate heart was not all spent in holy love to Jesus Christ, though much of it was.  For the dregs of it, the unholy scum and froth of it, came out too much in his books of debate and in his differences with his own brethren.  His high-mettled and almost reckless sense of duty brought him many enemies, and it was his lifelong sanctification to try to treat his enemies aright, and to keep his own heart and tongue and pen clean and sweet towards them.  And he divined that among the merchants and magistrates of Leith, anger and malice, rivalry and revenge were not unknown any more than they were among their betters in the Presbytery and the General Assembly.  He knew, for Fleming had told him, that his very prosperity and his father’s prosperity had procured for Fleming many enemies.  The Norway timber trade was not all in the Fleming hands for nothing.  The late Council election also had left Fleming many enemies, and his simple duty at the Council-table daily multiplied them.  It was quite unaccountable to him how enemies sprang up all around him, and it was well that he had such an open-eyed and much-experienced correspondent as Rutherford was, to whom he could confide such ghastly discoveries, and such terrible shocks to faith and trust and love.  ’Watch well this one thing, Bailie Fleming, even your deep desire for revenge.  Be sure that it is in your heart in Leith to seek revenge as well as it is in my heart here in Aberdeen.  Watch, as you would the workings of a serpent, the workings of your sore-hurt heart in the matter of its revenges.  Watch how the calamities that come on your enemies refresh and revive you.  Watch how their prosperity and their happiness depress and darken you.  Disentangle the desire for revenge and the delight in it out of the rank thickets of your wicked heart; drag that desire and delight out of its native darkness; know it, name it, and it will be impossible but that you will hate it like death and hell, and yourself on account of it.  Do you honestly wish, as you say you do, for direction as to your duty to your many enemies in Leith, and to God and your own soul among them?  Then begin with this:  watch and find yourself out in your deep desire for revenge, and in your secret satisfaction and delight to hear it and to speak it.  Begin with that; and, then, long after that, and as the divine reward of that, you will be enabled to begin to try to love your enemies, to bless them that curse you, to do good to them that hate you, and to pray for them that despitefully use you and persecute you.  You need no Directory for these things from me when you have the Sermon on the Mount in your own New Testament.’