men seems to symbolize the kingdom of heaven surrounded by the kingdoms of the world. The intrusion for a moment of the spirit of Mammon draws the strange Parable of the Hired Laborers: how economic ideas have no place in the spiritual world, where one entering at the eleventh hour may fare even as those who have borne the burden and heat of the day. A question arises as to the treatment of sin: how often is the offending brother to be forgiven? Jesus's answer echoes the Old Testament Song of Lamech, which, glorying in the newly invented weapons of destruction, had cried

If Cain shall be avenged sevenfold,

Truly Lamech seventy and sevenfold.

So the offending brother is to be forgiven seventy times and seven: the law of forgiveness must be commensurate with the old law of revenge. When, finally, two of the disciples apply for promotion in the kingdom of heaven, they receive the reply that in this kingdom it is service that makes lordship.

We now turn, in the tenth section of Matthew's narrative, to the world outside. The king of the kingdom of heaven on earth makes a royal entry into Jerusalem as the seat of the old dispensation. We have daily clashes in the temple between the Old and the New. Two details are of special significance. Jesus sees a Fig Tree with a brave show of leaves but no fruit. He makes it a symbol: Let there be no fruit from thee henceforward for ever. It must be remembered that in the earlier ministry of Jesus there had been a Parable of a Barren Fig Tree: but then the word of Jesus had been to spare it and give it time to bear fruit. He now recognizes the barren formalism of the old religion as a tree that will never yield fruit. It is at this point that Matthew gathers together the denunciations of "Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!" into a sevenfold woe. The words that conclude this have a ring of finality.

O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killeth the prophets, and stoneth them that are sent unto her! how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not! Behold your house is left unto you desolate.

In these words, the king of the kingdom of heaven upon earth dissolves the old dispensation.

In the eleventh section of Matthew, Jesus, alone with his band of disciples, makes his revelation as to the end of things. Its climax is the Parable of the Shepherd dividing his sheep from the goats. The winnowing fan is conceived as having done its perfect work: a sundering as of sheep from goats, from which there can be no reunion.

The final section of this, as of all gospels, is concerned with the external world, in which are seen the incidents of the Crucifixion and Resurrection. Yet even here we note one detail of characteristic significance. The risen Jesus has led his followers to what elsewhere is the mountain of the ascension, and given to them his parting commission. Then Matthew strangely omits even to mention the ascension of Christ to heaven. It would appear as if, to its last word, this is the Gospel of the Kingdom of God on earth.

When we turn from all this to the gospel of Luke, we find a narration equally full and rich in detail, but reflecting a different arrangement of the matter the simple arrangement of chronological succession. The different plan of the two gospels will be best seen when the logical sections into which each falls are presented side by side in parallel columns.

The opening section of Luke relates, with great minuteness, what his careful research has gathered in reference to the Birth of Jesus and of his predecessor John the Baptist. The opening section of Matthew relates only the Birth of Jesus, and that briefly. Yet it is noteworthy that this Wisdom Gospel is the only one of the four which deals with the Visit of the Wise Men from the East. Here also appears a characteristic of Matthew which extends through the whole book; how incidents related suggest remarkable coincidences with the very language of Old Testament scripture. A prophetic poem, presenting God in dialogue with rebellious Ephraim, had contained the words: "When Israel was a child, then I loved him, and called my son out of Egypt." The wording of this passage is recalled to the mind of Matthew by the flight of the holy family into Egypt and their return. Similarly, the massacre of the innocents suggests to Matthew a poetic picture by Jeremiah of destruction: "Rachel weeping for her children; she refuseth to be comforted for her children, because they are not."

The second section in each of the two gospels is occupied with the Baptism of John, in connection with which we have the first appearance of Jesus in public. The baptism of Jesus is followed by his Temptation in the Wilderness.

The two narratives thus closely correspond in their opening sections. They correspond again at the close. But in what comes between the two diverge widely. To Luke, with his plan of chronological arrangement, the life of Jesus apart from the closing stages seems to fall into two great epochs. One is the Ministry in Galilee, culminating in the recognition by the disciples of the Christ. The second is the "Way to Jerusalem": the advance of the Christ with his followers to the holy city. A glance at the parallel columns shows how different is the treatment in the two books. Both make a turning point of the narrative in the recognition of the Christ. The third section of Luke leads up to this point in a narrative of some fifteen pages; Matthew takes thirty-three pages to reach the same point, with his philosophical treatment of the developing kingdom in its stages of acceptance and rejection. Then we have from Luke, in his story of the advance to Jerusalem, some twenty pages of narration which

has no counterpart in Matthew, except that some of the questionings by the disciples about the Kingdom of Heaven are connected by Matthew with a going up to Jerusalem. This fourth section of Luke is founded on material almost peculiar to his gospel. It is a sustained picture of the Christ in his advance to the city of his enemies, surrounded by multitudes who at intervals break out into excitement at the expected revelation of the kingdom. Wayside incidents occur. And the mixed character of the crowd around Jesus draws from him many of his most notable parables, including the Parable of the Prodigal Son. With the entry into Jerusalem the two narratives come together again, though that of Matthew, as might be expected, is the fuller at this point. In the final section of the Passion and Resurrection the two narratives closely correspond.

Every reader of the New Testament will appreciate the value of its containing two gospels so equal in their fulness and rich detail, so different in their spirit and mode of treatment.

THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

When we reach the fourth gospel we find ourselves in a different literary atmosphere. There is this much in common with Matthew, that both may be called philosophical gospels. But the philosophy of the two is different. Instead of the Hebrew philosophy of wisdom we now have Greek philosophy. Not that there is any resemblance in the writing of John to the philosophy of Plato or Aristotle. But in the interval between the Old and the New Testaments Palestine had become strongly leavened with Greek culture: it is such Hellenized Wisdom that makes the philosophy underlying the fourth gospel. Two features of the book, constituting its philosophical character, need careful study before the literary effect can be fully appreciated.

One leading note of Greek philosophy had been its attraction to the form of disputation. This is expressed by the word 'dialectic.' As used technically by the Greeks themselves this word is full of subtle significance. But for the present purpose it is enough to say that 'dialectic' is to dialogue what logic is to monologue. Our modern idea of philosophy is a logical argument