LITMIR.BIZ

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o the Law an the Pharisees, ye s’ ne’er win intil the Kíngdom o Heiven avà.

      “Ye hae heared at it wis said tae them i the langsyne: ‘Thou sanna commit murther, an onie-ane at commits murther maun thole an assize afore the magistrate.’ But I say til ye, ‘Onie-ane at is angert at his brither maun thole an assize afore the magistrate.’ ²⁸Again, ‘Onie-ane at says til his brither, “Ye bee-heidit gowk!” maun thole an assize afore the Council.’ But I say: ‘Onie-ane at says til his brither, “Ye muckle sumph!” maun thole an assize afore ane at can duim til the lowes o hell.’ Sae whan ye bring your gift tae the altar, gin ye caa tae mind at your brither hes something again ye, lae your gift there forenent the altar an awà an souther it up wi your brither, an syne, but no afore, come an offer your gift. Loss nae time in greein wi onie-ane at hes raised a pley again ye, as lang as ye ar on the road tae the court wi him: or aiblins he will haund ye owre tae the Juidge, an the Juidge will turn ye owre til the Officiar o the Court, an ye will ²⁹finnd yoursel in jyle. Atweill, I tell ye, ye s’ no win out the jyle or ye hae peyed up ilka plack an farden!

      “Ye hae heared at it wis said, ‘Thou sanna commit adulterie.’ But I say til ye at onie-ane at ³⁰casts a keistie luik owre a wuman hes commitit adulterie wi her else in his hairt. Gin your richt ee gars ye stoiter, pyke it out an cast it awà; ye will be better wantin ae ee nor haein your haill bouk cuissen intil hell. An gin your richt haund gars ye stoiter, cut it aff an cast it awà; ye will be better wantin ae pairt o ye nor haein your haill bouk an gangin the gate til hell.

      “Again, it wis laid doun: ‘A man at divorces his wife maun gíe her divorce-lines.’ But I say tae ye at onie-ane at divorces his wife—an it binna for ³¹hurin—drives her intil adulterie, an onie-ane at mairries a divorced wuman commits adulterie.

      “Again, ye hae heared at it wis said tae them i the lang-syne: ‘Ye sanna mansweir yoursel, but maun bide bi your aiths swurn tae the Lord.’ But I say til ye, ‘Sweir nane avà’—naither bi the lift, for it is his throne; nor bi the yird, for it is the fit-brod aneth his feet; nor yit bi Jerusalem, for it is the Cítie o the Gryte Kíng. Sweirna bi your ain heid aitherins, for ye canna mak ae hair o it black or white. Lat it ey be plain ‘Ay’ an ‘Na’ wi ye; ocht mair an that comes o the Ill Ane.

      “Ye hae heared at it wis said: ‘Ee for ee, an tuith for tuith.’ But I say tae ye, ‘Haudna again wrang.’ Gin onie-ane ³²taks ye a scud on the tae chaft, turn the tither til him. Gin onie-ane wad tak the law o ye, an hae the sairk aff your back, lat him hae baith hit an your jaicket forbye. Gin a public officiar gars ye traivel wi him a mile, gang ye ither twa wi him. Gíe til onie-ane at axes ye, an til onie-ane seeks a len’ o ocht gíe-him-na a na-say.

      “Ye hae heared at it wis said: ‘Thou sal luve thy neipour, an ill-will thy fae.’ But I say til ye, ‘Luve your faes, an pray for them at misgydes ye.’ Sae ye will shaw yoursels sons o your Faither in heiven, at gars his sun rise the same on the guid an the bad, an the renn faa the same on the weill-daein an the ill-daein. Gin ye luve nane but them at luves ye, what rewaird can ye ettle for that? Een the tax-uplifters dis as muckle. An gin ye ar couthie wi your brither alane, what is there sae byous about that? Een the haithen dis as muckle. Na, ye maun be perfyte, as your Faither in heiven is perfyte!

      6 “Tak tent no tae dae your guid deeds afore fowk, tae hae them glowrin at ye; that gate ye s’ win nae rewaird o your Faither in heiven. Toutna a horn, whan ye gíe an awmous, the wey the hýpocrítes dis i the meetin-housses an the streets, at fowk may ruise them. Atweill, I tell ye, they hae gotten aa the rewaird they’r tae get. Na, whan ye gíe an awmous, latna your cair haund ken what your richt haund is daein, sae at your awmous-gíein may be dune in hidlins; an syne your Faither, at sees aathing at is dune in hidlins, will gíe ye your rewaird.

      “Than, whan ye pray, ye maunna be like the hýpocrítes, at likes weill tae staund an pray i the meetin-housses an at the gateheids, sae at fowk may see them. Atweill, I tell ye, they hae gotten aa the rewaird they’r tae get. Na, whan ye pray, gang intil your benmaist chaumer an tak the door wi ye, an syne pray til your Faither, at bides whaur nane can see him; an your Faither, at sees aathing at is dune in hidlins, will gíe ye your rewaird. Rame-ramena awà, whan ye pray, like the haithen, at trews they will be hairkent for their tung-rake. Binna ye like them, for your Faither kens what ye hae need o, afore iver ye ax him. Pray ye, than, this gate:

      Our Faither in heiven,

      hallowt be thy name;

      thy Kíngdom come;

      thy will be dune

      on the yird, as in heiven.

      Gíe us our breid for this incomin day;

      forgíe us the wrangs we hae wrocht,

      as we hae forgíen the wrangs we hae dree’d;

      an sey-us-na sairlie, but sauf us

      frae the Ill Ane.

      Gin ye forgíe ither fowk their fauts, your heivenlie Faither will een forgíe ye your fauts: but gin ye forgíena ithers, God winna forgíe ye your fauts naitherins.

      “Whan ye fast, glumph-an-gloom-na like the hýpocrítes, at hings on lang, shilpitlike faces, at fowk may see they ar fastin. Atweill, I tell ye, they hae gotten aa the rewaird they’r tae get. Na, whan yefast, pit oil on your heid an wash your face, sae at ye mayna be seen bi men tae be fastin, but onlie bi God, at bides whaur nane can see him; an your Faither, at sees aathing at is dune in hidlins, will gíe ye your rewaird.

      “Huirdna up treisur for yoursels on the yird, whaur mochs an roust gaes wi aathing, an thíefs holes throu the waa an staels: huird ye up treisur for yoursels in heiven, whaur is naither mochs nor roust tae gae wi it, nor thíefs tae hole throu the waa an stael. Whaur your treisur is huirdit, een thair will your hairt be an aa.

      “The ee is the lamp o the bodie. Gin your sicht is guid, your haill bodie will be fu o licht: but gin your sicht is bad, your haill bodie will be fu o mirkness. Gin, than, the licht ithin ye is mirkness, hou fell maun be your mirkness!

      “Nae man can sair twa maisters: aither he will ill-will the tane an luve the tither, or he will grip til the tane an lichtlifíe the tither. Ye canna sair God an Gowd baith.

      “An sae I rede ye: binna sair thochtit hou ye’r tae fend an haud yoursels in life, or whaur ye’r tae finnd cleadin for your bodies. Isna life something mair nor fendin, an the bodie something mair nor cleadin? Luik til the birds i the lift: they saw nane, they shear nane, they getherna nae grain intil barns; an yit your heivenlie Faither gíes them their mait. An arna ye a lang gate tae the fore o them? Whilk o ye can eik hauf an ell til his heicht bi thochtiness? An what for ar ye ey thochtit for cleadin? Luik til the wild lilies an the wey they grow: they tyauvena nor spin-na; an yit I tell ye at Solomon himsel in aa his braivitie wisna buskit hauf sae braw. But gin God sae cleads the girss i the fíelds, at is growin the day, an the morn is cuissen intil the uin, will he no be faur liker tae clead ye? Shame on your want o faith!

      “Binna thochtit, than, an ey sayin tae yoursels, ‘Bit an drap for our wymes, claes for our backs—whaur ar they tae come frae?’ Thir is the things at the haithen is ey taen up wi; an, mair atowre, your heivenlie Faither kens at ye hae need o them aa. Na, afore aathing seek ye his Kíngdom an his richteousness, an syne ye s’ be gíen aa thir ither things forbye. Binna thochtit, than, for the morn; lae the morn tae be thochtit for itsel; ilka day hes eneuch adae wi its nain ills.

      7 “Juidgena ithers, an ye wadna be juidged yoursels. Ye will be juidged the same wey as ye juidge, an ³³the meisur ye gíe will be the meisur ye get.

      “Hou is it ye luik til the spail in your brither’s ee, an tentna the dail in your ain? Hou can ye say til your brither, ‘Lat me tak yon spail out o your ee’, an here a dail in your ain ee aa the time? Ye hýpocríte, first tak the dail out o your ain ee, an syne ye s’ see richt tae tak the spail out o your brither’s ee!

      “Gíena halie flesh tae dowgs, an castna murlins o halie breid afore swine, for fear at they

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