(ii) Geographical difficulties in the theory.

(ii) But the geographical difficulty also, which this theory of affiliation involves, must be added to the chronological. The home of the Essene sect is allowed on all hands to have been on the eastern borders of Palestine, the shores of the Dead Sea, a region least of all exposed to the influences of Greek philosophy. It is true that we find near Alexandria a closely allied school of Jewish recluses, the Therapeutes; and, as Alexandria may have been the home of Neopythagoreanism, a possible link of connexion is here disclosed. But, as Zeller himself has pointed out, it is not among the Therapeutes, but among the Essenes, that the principles in question appear fully developed and consistently carried out[425]; and therefore, if there be a relation of paternity between Essene and Therapeute, the latter must be derived from the former and not conversely. How then can we suppose this influence of Neopythagoreanism brought to bear on a Jewish community in the south-eastern border of Palestine? Zeller’s answer is as follows[426]. Judæa was for more than a hundred and fifty years before the Maccabean period under the sovereignty first of the Egyptian and then of the Syrian Greeks. We know that at this time Hellenizing influences did infuse themselves largely into Judaism: and what more natural than that among these the Pythagorean philosophy and discipline should have recommended itself to a section of the Jewish people? It may be said in reply, that at all events the special locality of the Essenes is the least favourable to such a solution: but, without pressing this fact, Zeller’s hypothesis is open to two serious objections which combined seem fatal to it, unsupported as it is by any historical notice. First, this influence of Pythagoreanism is assumed to have taken place at the very time when the Pythagorean school was practically extinct: and secondly, it is supposed to have acted upon that very section of the Jewish community, which was the most vigorous advocate of national exclusiveness and the most averse to Hellenizing influences.

The foreign element of Essenism to be sought in the East,

It is not therefore to Greek but to Oriental influences that considerations of time and place, as well as of internal character, lead us to look for an explanation of the alien elements in Essene Judaism. And have we not here also the account of any real coincidences which may exist between Essenism and Neopythagoreanism? We should perhaps be hardly more justified in tracing Neopythagoreanism directly to Essenism than conversely (though, if we had no other alternative, this would appear to be the more probable solution of the two): but were not both alike due to substantially the same influences acting in different degrees? |to which also Pythagoreanism may have been indebted.|I think it will hardly be denied that the characteristic features of Pythagoreanism, and especially of Neopythagoreanism, which distinguish it from other schools of Greek philosophy, are much more Oriental in type, than Hellenic. The asceticism, the magic, the mysticism, of the sect all point in the same direction. And history moreover contains indications that such was the case. There seems to be sufficient ground for the statement that Pythagoras himself was indebted to intercourse with the Egyptians, if not with more strictly Oriental nations, for some leading ideas of his system. But, however this may be, the fact that in the legendary accounts, which the Neopythagoreans invented to do honour to the founder of the school, he is represented as taking lessons from the Chaldeans, Persians, Brahmins, and others, may be taken as an evidence that their own philosophy at all events was partially derived from eastern sources[427].

But, if the alien elements of Essenism were borrowed not so much from Greek philosophy as from Oriental mysticism, to what nation or what religion was it chiefly indebted? To this question it is difficult, with our very imperfect knowledge of the East at the Christian era, to reply with any confidence. |Resemblances to Parsism.|Yet there is one system to which we naturally look, as furnishing the most probable answer. The Medo-Persian religion supplies just those elements which distinguish the tenets and practices of the Essenes from the normal type of Judaism. |(i) Dualism.|(1) First; we have here a very definite form of dualism, which exercised the greatest influence on subsequent Gnostic sects, and of which Manicheism, the most mature development of dualistic doctrine in connexion with Christianity, was the ultimate fruit. For though dualism may not represent the oldest theology of the Zend-Avesta in its unadulterated form, yet long before the era of which we are speaking it had become the fundamental principle of the Persian religion. |(ii) Sun-worship.|(2) Again; the Zoroastrian symbolism of light, and consequent worship of the sun as the fountain of light, will explain those anomalous notices of the Essenes in which they are represented as paying reverence to this luminary[428]. |(iii) Angelolatry.|(3) Moreover; the ‘worship of angels’ in the Essene system has a striking parallel in the invocations of spirits, which form a very prominent feature in the ritual of the Zend-Avesta. And altogether their angelology is illustrated, and not improbably was suggested, by the doctrine of intermediate beings concerned in the government of nature and of man, such as the Amshaspands, which is an integral part of the Zoroastrian system[429]. |(iv) Magic.|(4) And once more; the magic, which was so attractive to the Essene, may have received its impulse from the priestly caste of Persia, to whose world-wide fame this form of superstition is indebted for its name. |(v) Striving after purity.|(5) If to these parallels I venture also to add the intense striving after purity, which is the noblest feature in the Persian religion, I do so, not because the Essenes might not have derived this impulse from a higher source, but because this feature was very likely to recommend the Zoroastrian system to their favourable notice, and because also the particular form which the zeal for purity took among them was at all events congenial to the teaching of the Zend-Avesta, and may not have been altogether free from its influences.

Other coincidences accidental.

I have preferred dwelling on these broader resemblances, because they are much more significant than any mere coincidence of details, which may or may not have been accidental. Thus for instance the magi, like the Essenes, wore white garments, and eschewed gold and ornaments; they practised frequent lustrations; they avoided flesh, living on bread and cheese or on herbs and fruits; they had different orders in their society; and the like[430]. All these, as I have already remarked, may be the independent out-growth of the same temper and direction of conduct, and need not imply any direct historical connexion. Nor is there any temptation to press such resemblances; for even without their aid the general connexion seems to be sufficiently established[431].

The destruction of the Persian empire not adverse

But it is said, that the history of Persia does not favour the hypothesis of such an influence as is here assumed. The destruction of the Persian empire by Alexander, argues Zeller[432], and the subsequent erection of the Parthian domination on its ruins, must have been fatal to the spread of Zoroastrianism. From the middle of the third century before Christ, when the Parthian empire was established, till towards the middle of the third century of our era, when the Persian monarchy and religion were once more restored[433], its influence must have been reduced within the narrowest limits. |but favourable to the spread of Parsism.| But does analogy really suggest such an inference? Does not the history of the Jews themselves show that the religious influence of a people on the world at large may begin just where its national life ends? The very dispersion of Zoroastrianism, consequent on the fall of the empire, would impregnate the atmosphere far and wide; and the germs of new religious developments would thus be implanted in alien soils. For in tracing Essenism to Persian influences I have not wished to imply that this Jewish sect consciously incorporated the Zoroastrian philosophy and religion as such, but only that Zoroastrian ideas were infused into its system by more or less direct contact. And, as a matter of fact, it seems quite certain that Persian ideas were widely spread during this very interval, when the Persian nationality was eclipsed. |Indications of its influence during this period.|It was then that Hermippus gave to the Greeks the most detailed account of this religion which had ever been laid before them[434]. It was then that its tenets suggested or moulded the speculations of the various Gnostic sects. It was then that the worship of the Persian Mithras spread throughout the Roman Empire. It was then, if not earlier, that the magian system took root in Asia Minor, making for itself (as it were) a second home in Cappadocia[435]. It was then, if not earlier, that the Zoroastrian demonology stamped itself so deeply on the apocryphal literature of the Jews themselves, which borrowed even the names of evil spirits[436] from the Persians. There are indeed abundant indications that Palestine was surrounded by Persian influences during this period, when the Persian empire was in abeyance.

Thus we seem to have ample ground for the view that certain alien features in Essene Judaism were derived from the Zoroastrian religion. |Are Buddhist influences also perceptible?|But are we justified in going a step further, and attributing other elements in this eclectic system to the more distant East? The monasticism of the Buddhist will naturally occur to our minds, as a precursor of the cenobitic life among the Essenes; and Hilgenfeld accordingly has not hesitated to ascribe this characteristic of Essenism directly to Buddhist influences[437]. But at the outset we are obliged to ask whether history gives any such indication of the presence of Buddhism in the West as this hypothesis requires. Hilgenfeld answers this question in the affirmative. |Supposed Buddhist establishment at Alexandria.|He points triumphantly to the fact that as early as the middle of the second century before Christ the Buddhist records speak of their faith as flourishing in Alasanda the chief city of the land of Yavana. The place intended, he conceives, can be none other than the great Alexandria, the most famous of the many places bearing the name[438]. |The authority misinterpreted| In this opinion however he stands quite alone. Neither Köppen[439], who is his authority for this statement, nor any other Indian scholar[440], so far as I am aware, for a moment contemplates this identification. Yavana, or Yona, was the common Indian name for the Græco-Bactrian kingdom and its dependencies[441]; and to this region we naturally turn. The Alasanda or Alasadda therefore, which is here mentioned, will be one of several Eastern cities bearing the name of the great conqueror, most probably Alexandria ad Caucasum. But indeed I hardly think that, if Hilgenfeld had referred to the original authority for the statement, the great Buddhist history Mahawanso, he would have ventured to lay any stress at all on this notice, as supporting his theory. |and wholly untrustworthy in itself.|The historian, or rather fabulist (for such he is in this earlier part of his chronicle), is relating the foundation of the Mahá thúpo, or great tope, at Ruanwelli by the king Dutthagámini in the year B.C. 157. Beyond the fact that this tope was erected by this king the rest is plainly legendary. All the materials for the construction of the building, we are told, appeared spontaneously as by miracle—the bricks, the metals, the precious stones. The dewos, or demons, lent their aid in the erection. In fact

the fabric huge
Rose like an exhalation.

Priests gathered in enormous numbers from all the great Buddhist monasteries to do honour to the festival of the foundation. One place alone sent not less than 96,000. Among the rest it is mentioned that ‘Maha Dhammarakkito, théro (i.e. senior priest) of Yóna, accompanied by 30,000 priests from the vicinity of Alasaddá, the capital of the Yóna country, attended[442].’ It is obvious that no weight can be attached to a statement occurring as part of a story of which the other details are so manifestly false. An establishment of 30,000 Buddhist priests at Alexandria would indeed be a phenomenon of which historians have shown a strange neglect.

General ignorance of Buddhism in the West.

Nor is the presence of any Buddhist establishment even on a much smaller scale in this important centre of western civilization at all reconcilable with the ignorance of this religion, which the Greeks and Romans betray at a much later date[443]. For some centuries after the Christian era we find that the information possessed by western writers was most shadowy and confused; and in almost every instance we are able to trace it to some other cause than the actual presence of Buddhists in the Roman Empire[444]. |Strabo.|Thus Strabo, who wrote under Augustus and Tiberius, apparently mentions the Buddhist priests, the sramanas, under the designation sarmanæ, (Σαρμάνας)[445]; but he avowedly obtains his information from Megasthenes, who travelled in India somewhere about the year 300 B.C. and wrote a book on Indian affairs. |Bardesanes.|Thus too Bardesanes at a much later date gives an account of these Buddhist ascetics, without however naming the founder of the religion; but he was indebted for his knowledge of them to conversations with certain Indian ambassadors who visited Syria on their way westward in the reign of one of the Antonines[446]. |Clement of Alexandria.| Clement of Alexandria, writing in the latest years of the second century or the earliest of the third, for the first time[447] mentions Buddha by name; and even he betrays a strange ignorance of this Eastern religion[448].

Hippolytus.

Still later than this, Hippolytus, while he gives a fairly intelligent, though brief, account of the Brahmins[449], says not a word about the Buddhists, though, if he had been acquainted with their teaching, he would assuredly have seen in them a fresh support to his theory of the affinity between Christian heresies and pre-existing heathen philosophies. |A Buddhist at Athens.|With one doubtful exception—an Indian fanatic attached to an embassy sent by king Porus to Augustus, who astonished the Greeks and Romans by burning himself alive at Athens[450]–there is apparently no notice in either heathen or Christian writers, which points to the presence of a Buddhist within the limits of the Roman Empire, till long after the Essenes had ceased to exist[451].

The alleged coincidences prove nothing.

And, if so, the coincidences must be very precise, before we are justified in attributing any peculiarities of Essenism to Buddhist influences. This however is far from being the case. They both exhibit a well-organized monastic society: but the monasticism of the Buddhist priests, with its systematized mendicancy, has little |Monasticism.| in common with the monasticism of the Essene recluse, whose life was largely spent in manual labour. |Asceticism.|They both enjoin celibacy, both prohibit the use of flesh and of wine, both abstain from the slaughter of animals. But, as we have already seen, such resemblances prove nothing, for they may be explained by the independent development of the same religious principles. One coincidence, and one only, is noticed by Hilgenfeld, which at first sight seems more striking and might suggest a historical connexion. |Four orders and four steps.|He observes that the four orders of the Essene community are derived from the four steps of Buddhism. Against this it might fairly be argued that such coincidences of numbers are often purely accidental, and that in the present instance there is no more reason for connecting the four steps of Buddhism with the four orders of Essenism than there would be for connecting the ten precepts of Buddha with the Ten Commandments of Moses. But indeed a nearer examination will show that the two have nothing whatever in common except the number. The four steps or paths of Buddhism are not four grades of an external order, but four degrees of spiritual progress on the way to nirvana or annihilation, the ultimate goal of the Buddhist’s religious aspirations. They are wholly unconnected with the Buddhist monastic system, as an organization. A reference to the Buddhist notices collected in Hardy’s Eastern Monachism (p. 280 sq.) will at once dispel any suspicion of a resemblance. A man may attain to the highest of these four stages of Buddhist illumination instantaneously. He does not need to have passed through the lower grades, but may even be a layman at the time. Some merit obtained in a previous state of existence may raise him per saltum to the elevation of a rahat, when all earthly desires are crushed and no future birth stands between him and nirvana. |Buddhist influences seen first in Manicheism.|There remains therefore no coincidence which would suggest any historical connexion between Essenism and Buddhism. Indeed it is not till some centuries later, when Manicheism starts into being, that we find for the first time any traces of the influence of Buddhism on the religions of the West[452].

3.
ESSENISM AND CHRISTIANITY.

The theory which explains Christianity as an outgrowth of Essenism,

It has become a common practice with a certain class of writers to call Essenism to their aid in accounting for any distinctive features of Christianity, which they are unable to explain in any other way. Wherever some external power is needed to solve a perplexity, here is the deus ex machina whose aid they most readily invoke. Constant repetition is sure to produce its effect, and probably not a few persons, who want either the leisure or the opportunity to investigate the subject for themselves, have a lurking suspicion that the Founder of Christianity may have been an Essene, or at all events that Christianity was largely indebted to Essenism for its doctrinal and ethical teaching[453]. Indeed, when very confident and sweeping assertions are made, it is natural to presume that they rest on a substantial basis of fact. Thus for instance we are told by one writer that Christianity is ‘Essenism alloyed with foreign elements’[454]: while another, who however approaches the subject in a different spirit, says; ‘It will hardly be doubted that our Saviour Himself belonged to this holy brotherhood. This will especially be apparent, when we remember that the whole Jewish community at the advent of Christ was divided into three parties, the Pharisees, the Sadducees, and the Essenes, and that every Jew had to belong to one of these sects. Jesus who in all things conformed to the Jewish law, and who was holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners, would therefore naturally associate Himself with that order of Judaism which was most congenial to his nature’.[455]|tested by facts.|I purpose testing these strong assertions by an appeal to facts.

Our Lord need not have belonged to any sect.

For the statements involved in those words of the last extract which I have underlined, no authority is given by the writer himself; nor have I been able to find confirmation of them in any quarter. On the contrary the frequent allusions which we find to the vulgar herd, the ιδιῶται, the عam haarets, who are distinguished from the disciples of the schools[456], suggest that a large proportion of the people was unattached to any sect. If it had been otherwise, we might reasonably presume that our Lord, as one who ‘in all things conformed to the Jewish law,’ would have preferred attaching Himself to the Pharisees who ‘sat in Moses’ seat’ and whose precepts He recommended His disciples to obey[457], rather than to the Essenes who in one important respect at least—the repudiation of the temple sacrifices—acted in flagrant violation of the Mosaic ordinances.

The argument from the silence of the New Testament answered.

This preliminary barrier being removed, we are free to investigate the evidence for their presumed connexion. And here we are met first with a negative argument, which obviously has great weight with many persons. Why, it is asked, does Jesus, who so unsparingly denounces the vices and the falsehoods of Pharisees and Sadducees, never once mention the Essenes by way of condemnation, or indeed mention them by name at all? Why, except that He himself belonged to this sect and looked favourably on their teaching? This question is best answered by another. How can we explain the fact, that throughout the enormous mass of talmudical and early rabbinical literature this sect is not once mentioned by name, and that even the supposed allusions to them, which have been discovered for the first time in the present century, turn out on investigation to be hypothetical and illusory? The difficulty is much greater in this latter instance; but the answer is the same in both cases. The silence is explained by the comparative insignificance of the sect, their small numbers and their retired habits. Their settlements were far removed from the great centres of political and religious life. Their recluse habits, as a rule, prevented them from interfering in the common business of the world. Philo and Josephus have given prominence to them, because their ascetic practices invested them with the character of philosophers and interested the Greeks and Romans in their history; but in the national life of the Jews they bore a very insignificant part[458]. If the Sadducees, who held the highest offices in the hierarchy, are only mentioned directly on three occasions in the Gospels[459], it can be no surprise that the Essenes are not named at all.

The positive arguments for a connexion may be twofold.

As no stress therefore can be laid on the argument for silence, any hypothesis of connexion between Essenism and Christianity must make good its claims by establishing one or both of these two points: first, that there is direct historical evidence of close intercourse between the two; and secondly, that the resemblances of doctrine and practice are so striking as to oblige, or at least to warrant, the belief in such a connexion. If both these lines of argument fail, the case must be considered to have broken down.

1. Absence of direct historical evidence of a connexion.

1. On the former point it must be premised that the Gospel narrative does not suggest any hint of a connexion. Indeed its general tenor is directly adverse to such a supposition. From first to last Jesus and his disciples move about freely, taking part in the common business, even in the common recreations, of Jewish life. The recluse ascetic brotherhood, which was gathered about the shores of the Dead Sea, does not once appear above the Evangelists’ horizon. Of this close society, as such, there is not the faintest indication. |Two individual cases alleged.| But two individuals have been singled out, as holding an important place either in the Evangelical narrative or in the Apostolic Church, who, it is contended, form direct and personal links of communication with this sect. These are John the Baptist and James the Lord’s brother. The one is the forerunner of the Gospel, the first herald of the Kingdom; the other is the most prominent figure in the early Church of Jerusalem.

(i) John the Baptist

(i) John the Baptist was an ascetic. His abode was the desert; his clothing was rough; his food was spare; he baptized his penitents. Therefore, it is argued, he was an Essene. Between the premisses and the conclusion however there is a broad gulf, which cannot very easily be bridged over. |not an Essene.|The solitary independent life, which John led, presents a type wholly different from the cenobitic establishments of the Essenes, who had common property, common meals, common hours of labour and of prayer. It may even be questioned whether his food of locusts would have been permitted by the Essenes, if they really ate nothing which had life (ἔμψυχον[460]). And again; his baptism as narrated by the Evangelists, and their lustrations as described in Josephus, have nothing in common except the use of water for a religious purpose. When therefore we are told confidently that ‘his manner of life was altogether after the Essene pattern[461],’ and that ‘he without doubt baptized his converts into the Essene order,’ we know what value to attach to this bold assertion. If positive statements are allowable, it would be more true to fact to say that he could not possibly have been an Essene. The rule of his life was isolation; the principle of theirs, community[462].

External resemblances to John in Banus,

In this mode of life John was not singular. It would appear that not a few devout Jews at this time retired from the world and buried themselves in the wilderness, that they might devote themselves unmolested to ascetic discipline and religious meditation. One such instance at all events we have in Banus the master of Josephus, with whom the Jewish historian, when a youth, spent three years in the desert. This anchorite was clothed in garments made of bark or of leaves; his food was the natural produce of the earth; he bathed day and night in cold water for purposes of purification. To the careless observer doubtless John and Banus would appear to be men of the same stamp. In their outward mode of life there was perhaps not very much difference[463]. The consciousness of a divine mission, the gift of a prophetic insight, in John was the real and all-important distinction between the two. |who was not an Essene.|But here also the same mistake is made; and we not uncommonly find Banus described as an Essene. It is not too much to say however, that the whole tenor of Josephus’ narrative is opposed to this supposition[464]. He says that when sixteen years old he desired to acquire a knowledge of the three sects of the Jews before making his choice of one; that accordingly he went through (διῆλθον) all the three at the cost of much rough discipline and toil; that he was not satisfied with the experience thus gained, and hearing of this Banus he attached himself to him as his zealous disciple (ζηλωτὴς ἐγενόμην αὐτοῦ); that having remained three years with him he returned to Jerusalem; and that then, being nineteen years old, he gave in his adhesion to the sect of the Pharisees. Thus there is no more reason for connecting this Banus with the Essenes than with the Pharisees. The only natural interpretation of the narrative is that he did not belong to any of the three sects, but represented a distinct type of religious life, of which Josephus was anxious to gain experience. And his hermit life seems to demand this solution, which the sequence of the narrative suggests.

General result.

Of John himself therefore no traits are handed down which suggest that he was a member of the Essene community. He was an ascetic, and the Essenes were ascetics; but this is plainly an inadequate basis for any such inference. Nor indeed is the relation of his asceticism to theirs a question of much moment for the matter in hand; since this was the very point in which Christ’s mode of life was so essentially different from John’s as to provoke criticism and to point a contrast[465]. But the later history of his real or supposed disciples has, or may seem to have, some bearing on this investigation. |The Hemerobaptists.|Towards the close of the first and the beginning of the second century we meet with a body of sectarians called in Greek Hemerobaptists[466], in Hebrew Toble-shacharith[467], ‘day’ or ‘morning bathers.’ What were their relations to John the Baptist on the one hand, and to the Essenes on the other? Owing to the scantiness of our information the whole subject is wrapped in obscurity, and any restoration of their history must be more or less hypothetical; but it will be possible at all events to suggest an account which is not improbable in itself, and which does no violence to the extant notices of the sect.

(a) Their relation to John the Baptist.

(a) We must not hastily conclude, when we meet with certain persons at Ephesus about the years A.D. 53, 54, who are described as ‘knowing only the baptism of John,’ or as having been ‘baptized unto John’s baptism[468],’ that we have here some early representatives of the Hemerobaptist sect. |John’s disciples at Ephesus.|These were Christians, though imperfectly informed Christians. Of Apollos, who was more fully instructed by Aquila and Priscilla, this is stated in the most explicit terms[469]. Of the rest, who owed their fuller knowledge of the Gospel to St Paul, the same appears to be implied, though the language is not free from ambiguity[470]. But these notices have an important bearing on our subject; for they show how profoundly the effect of John’s preaching was felt in districts as remote as proconsular Asia, even after a lapse of a quarter of a century. With these disciples it was the initial impulse towards Christianity; but to others it represented a widely different form of belief and practice. |Professed followers at a later date.|The Gospel of St John was written, according to all tradition, at Ephesus in the later years of the first century. Again and again the Evangelist impresses on his readers, either directly by his own comments or indirectly by the course of the narrative, the transient and subordinate character of John’s ministry. He was not the light, says the Evangelist, but came to bear witness of the light[471]. He was not the sun in the heavens: he was only the waning lamp, which shines when kindled from without and burns itself away in shining. His light might well gladden the Jews while it lasted, but this was only ‘for a season[472].’ John himself lost no opportunity of bearing his testimony to the loftier claims of Jesus[473]. From such notices it is plain that in the interval between the preaching of St Paul and the Gospel of St John the memory of the Baptist at Ephesus had assumed a new attitude towards Christianity. His name is no longer the sign of imperfect appreciation, but the watchword of direct antagonism. John had been set up as a rival Messiah to Jesus. In other words, this Gospel indicates the spread of Hemerobaptist principles, if not the presence of a Hemerobaptist community, in proconsular Asia, when it was written. In two respects these Hemerobaptists distorted the facts of history. |The facts of history distorted by them.|They perverted John’s teaching, and they misrepresented his office. His baptism was no more a single rite, once performed and initiating an amendment of life; it was a daily recurrence atoning for sin and sanctifying the person[474]. He himself was no longer the forerunner of the Messiah; he was the very Messiah[475]. |Spread of Hemerobaptist principles.|In the latter half of the first century, it would seem, there was a great movement among large numbers of the Jews in favour of frequent baptism, as the one purificatory rite essential to salvation. Of this superstition we have had an instance already in the anchorite Banus to whom Josephus attached himself as a disciple. Its presence in the western districts of Asia Minor is shown by a Sibylline poem, dating about A.D. 80, which I have already had occasion to quote[476]. Some years earlier these sectarians are mentioned by name as opposing James the Lord’s brother and the Twelve at Jerusalem[477]. Nor is there any reason for questioning their existence as a sect in Palestine during the later years of the Apostolic age, though the source from which our information comes is legendary, and the story itself a fabrication. But when or how they first connected themselves with the name of John the Baptist, and whether this assumption was made by all alike or only by one section of them, we do not know. Such a connexion, however false to history, was obvious and natural; nor would it be difficult to accumulate parallels to this false appropriation of an honoured name. Baptism was the fundamental article of their creed; and John was the Baptist of world-wide fame. |A wrong use made of John’s name.|Nothing more than this was needed for the choice of an eponym. From St John’s Gospel it seems clear that this appropriation was already contemplated, if not completed, at Ephesus before the first century had drawn to a close. In the second century the assumption is recognised as a characteristic of these Hemerobaptists, or Baptists, as they are once called[478], alike by those who allow and those who deny its justice[479]. Even in our age the name of ‘John’s disciples’ has been given, though wrongly given, to an obscure sect in Babylonia, the Mandeans, whose doctrine and practice have some affinities to the older sect, and of whom perhaps they are the collateral, if not the direct, descendants[480].

(b) Their relation to the Essenes.

(b) Of the connexion between this sect and John the Baptist we have been able to give a probable, though necessarily hypothetical account. But when we attempt to determine its relation to the Essenes, we find ourselves entangled in a hopeless mesh of perplexities. The notices are so confused, the affinities so subtle, the ramifications so numerous, that it becomes a desperate task to distinguish and classify these abnormal Jewish and Judaizing heresies. |They were at first distinct, if not antagonistic.| One fact however seems clear that, whatever affinities they may have had originally, and whatever relations they may have contracted afterwards with one another, the Hemerobaptists, properly speaking, were not Essenes. The Sibylline poem which may be regarded as in some respects a Hemerobaptist manifesto contains, as we saw, many traits inconsistent with pure Essenism[481]. In two several accounts, the memoirs of Hegesippus and the Apostolic Constitutions, the Hemerobaptists are expressly distinguished from the Essenes[482]. In an early production of Judaic Christianity, whose Judaism has a strong Essene tinge, the Clementine Homilies, they and their eponym are condemned in the strongest language. The system of syzygies, or pairs of opposites, is a favourite doctrine of this work, and in these John stands contrasted to Jesus, as Simon Magus to Simon Peter, as the false to the true; for according to this author’s philosophy of history the manifestation of the false always precedes the manifestation of the true[483]. And again, Epiphanius speaks of them as agreeing substantially in their doctrines, not with the Essenes, but with the Scribes and Pharisees[484]. His authority on such a point may be worth very little; but connected with other notices, it should not be passed over in silence. Yet, whatever may have been their differences, the Hemerobaptists and the Essenes had one point of direct contact, their belief in the moral efficacy of lustrations. When the temple and polity were destroyed, the shock vibrated through the whole fabric of Judaism, loosening and breaking up existing societies, and preparing the way for new combinations. |But after the destruction of the Temple|More especially the cessation of the sacrificial rites must have produced a profound effect equally on those who, like the Essenes, had condemned them already, and on those who, as possibly was the case with the Hemerobaptists, had hitherto remained true to the orthodox ritual. |there may have been a fusion.|One grave obstacle to friendly overtures was thus removed; and a fusion, more or less complete, may have been the consequence. At all events the relations of the Jewish sects must have been materially affected by this great national crisis, as indeed we know to have been the case. In the confusion which follows, it is impossible to attain any clear view of their history. At the beginning of the second century however this pseudo-baptist movement received a fresh impulse from the pretended revelation of Elchesai, which came from the farther East[485]. Henceforth Elchesai is the prominent name in the history of those Jewish and Judaizing sects whose proper home is east of the Jordan[486], and who appear to have reproduced, with various modifications derived from Christian and Heathen sources, the Gnostic theology and the pseudo-baptist ritual of their Essene predecessors. It is still preserved in the records of the only extant people who have any claim to be regarded as the religious heirs of the Essenes. Elchesai is regarded as the founder of the sect of Mandeans[487].