St. Paul's Epistles to the Colossians and Philemon / A revised text with introductions, notes and dissertations

by J. B. Lightfoot

CONTENTS.

EPISTLE TO THE COLOSSIANS.
INTRODUCTION.
			PAGE
	I.	The Churches of the Lycus	[1–72]
	II.	The Colossian Heresy	[73–113]
		On some points connected with the Essenes.
		1. The name Essene	[114–119]
		2. Origin and Affinities of the Essenes	[119–157]
		3. Essenism and Christianity	[158–179]
	III.	Character and Contents of the Epistle	[180–194]
TEXT AND NOTES			[197–311]
	On some Various Readings in the Epistle		[312–322]
	On the meaning of πλήρωμα		[323–339]
	The Epistle from Laodicea		[340–366]
EPISTLE TO PHILEMON.
INTRODUCTION			[369–395]
TEXT AND NOTES			[399–412]
INDEX			[415–424]

I.
THE CHURCHES OF THE LYCUS.

Situation of the three cities.

Lying in, or overhanging, the valley of the Lycus, a tributary of the Mæander, were three neighbouring towns, Laodicea, Hierapolis, and Colossæ[^[1]]. The river flows, roughly speaking, from east to west; but at this point, which is some few miles above its junction with the Mæander, its direction is more nearly from south-east to north-west[^[2]]. Laodicea and Hierapolis stand face to face, being situated respectively on the southern and northern sides of the valley, at a distance of six miles[^[3]], and within sight of each other, the river lying in the open plain between the two. The site of Colossæ is somewhat higher up the stream, at a distance of perhaps ten or twelve miles[^[4]] from the point where the road between Laodicea and Hierapolis crosses the Lycus. Unlike Laodicea and Hierapolis, which overhang the valley on opposite sides, Colossæ stands immediately on the river-bank, the two parts of the town being divided by the stream. The three cities lie so near to each other, that it would be quite possible to visit them all in the course of a single day.

Their neighbourhood and intercourse.

Thus situated, they would necessarily hold constant intercourse with each other. We are not surprised therefore to find them so closely connected in the earliest ages of Christianity. It was the consequence of their position that they owed their knowledge of the Gospel to the same evangelist, that the same phases of thought prevailed in them, and that they were exposed to the same temptations, moral as well as intellectual.

Physical forces at work.

The physical features of the neighbourhood are very striking. Two potent forces of nature are actively at work to change the face of the country, the one destroying old land-marks, the other creating fresh ground.

Frequent earthquakes.

On the one hand, the valley of the Lycus was and is especially liable to violent earthquakes. The same danger indeed extends over large portions of Asia Minor, but this district is singled out by ancient writers[^[5]] (and the testimony of modern travellers confirms the statement[^[6]]), as the chief theatre of these catastrophes. Not once or twice only in the history of Laodicea do we read of such visitations laying waste the city itself or some flourishing town in the neighbourhood[^[7]]. Though the exterior surface of the earth shows no traces of recent volcanoes, still the cavernous nature of the soil and the hot springs and mephitic vapours abounding here indicate the presence of those subterranean fires, which from time to time have manifested themselves in this work of destruction.

Deposits of travertine.

But, while the crust of the earth is constantly broken up by these forces from beneath, another agency is actively employed above ground in laying a new surface. If fire has its fitful outbursts of devastation, water is only less powerful in its gradual work of reconstruction. The lateral streams which swell the waters of the Lycus are thickly impregnated with calcareous matter, which they deposit in their course. The travertine formations of this valley are among the most remarkable in the world, surpassing even the striking phenomena of Tivoli and Clermont[^[8]]. Ancient monuments are buried, fertile lands overlaid, river-beds choked up and streams diverted, fantastic grottos and cascades and archways of stone formed, by this strange capricious power, at once destructive and creative, working silently and relentlessly through long ages. Fatal to vegetation, these incrustations spread like a stony shroud over the ground. Gleaming like glaciers on the hill-side they attract the eye of the traveller at a distance of twenty miles[^[9]], and form a singularly striking feature in scenery of more than common beauty and impressiveness.

Produce and manufactures of the district.

At the same time, along with these destructive agencies, the fertility of the district was and is unusually great. Its rich pastures fed large flocks of sheep, whose fleeces were of a superior quality; and the trade in dyed woollen goods was the chief source of prosperity to these towns. For the bounty of nature was not confined to the production of the material, but extended also to the preparation of the fabric. The mineral streams had chemical qualities, which were highly valued by the dyer[^[10]]. Hence we find that all the three towns, with which we are concerned, were famous in this branch of trade. At Hierapolis, as at Thyatira, the guild of the dyers appears in the inscriptions as an important and influential body[^[11]]. Their colours vied in brilliancy with the richest scarlets and purples of the farther east[^[12]]. Laodicea again was famous for the colour of its fleeces, probably a glossy black, which was much esteemed[^[13]]. Here also we read of a guild of dyers[^[14]]. And lastly, Colossæ gave its name to a peculiar dye, which seems to have been some shade of purple, and from which it derived a considerable revenue[^[15]].

1. Laodicea.

Its name and history.

1. Of these three towns Laodicea, as the most important, deserves to be considered first. Laodice was a common name among the ladies of the royal house of the Seleucidæ, as Antiochus was among the princes. Hence Antiochia and Laodicea occur frequently as the designations of cities within the dominions of the Syrian kings. Laodicea on the Lycus[^[16]], as it was surnamed to distinguish it from other towns so called, and more especially perhaps from its near neighbour Laodicea Catacecaumene, had borne in succession the names of Diospolis and Rhoas[^[17]]; but when refounded by Antiochus Theos (B.C. 261–246), it was newly designated after his wife Laodice[^[18]]. It is situated[^[19]] on an undulating hill, or group of hills, which overhangs the valley on the south, being washed on either side by the streams of the Asopus and the Caprus, tributaries of the Lycus[^[20]]. Behind it rise the snow-capped heights of Cadmus, the lofty mountain barrier which shuts in the south side of the main valley[^[21]]. |Its growing prosperity.| A place of no great importance at first, it made rapid strides in the last days of the republic and under the earliest Cæsars, and had become, two or three generations before St Paul wrote, a populous and thriving city[^[22]]. Among its famous inhabitants are mentioned the names of some philosophers, sophists, and rhetoricians, men renowned in their day but forgotten or almost forgotten now[^[23]]. More to our purpose, as illustrating the boasted wealth and prosperity of the city, which appeared as a reproach and a stumblingblock in an Apostle’s eyes[^[24]], are the facts, that one of its citizens, Polemo, became a king and a father of kings, and that another, Hiero, having accumulated enormous wealth, bequeathed all his property to the people and adorned the city with costly gifts[^[25]]. To the good fortune of her principal sons, as well as to the fertility of the country around, the geographer Strabo ascribes the increase and prosperity of Laodicea. The ruins of public buildings still bear testimony by their number and magnificence to the past greatness of the city[^[26]].

Its political rank, as the capital of a conventus.

Not less important, as throwing light on the Apostolic history, is the political status of Laodicea. Asia Minor under the Romans was divided into districts, each comprising several towns and having its chief city, in which the courts were held from time to time by the proconsul or legate of the province, and where the taxes from the subordinate towns were collected[^[27]]. Each of these political aggregates was styled in Latin conventus, in Greek διοίκησις—a term afterwards borrowed by the Christian Church, being applied to a similar ecclesiastical aggregate, and thus naturalised in the languages of Christendom as diocese. At the head of the most important of these political dioceses, the ‘Cibyratic convention’ or ‘jurisdiction,’ as it was called, comprising not less than twenty-five towns, stood Laodicea[^[28]]. Here in times past Cicero, as proconsul of Cilicia, had held his court[^[29]]; hither at stated seasons flocked suitors, advocates, clerks, sheriffs’-officers, tax-collectors, pleasure-seekers, courtiers—all those crowds whom business or leisure or policy or curiosity would draw together from a wealthy and populous district, when the representative of the laws and the majesty of Rome appeared to receive homage and to hold his assize[^[30]]. To this position as the chief city of the Cibyratic union the inscriptions probably refer, when they style Laodicea the ‘metropolis[^[31]].’ And in its metropolitan rank we see an explanation of the fact, that to Laodicea, as to the centre of a Christian diocese also, whence their letters would readily be circulated among the neighbouring brotherhoods, two Apostles address themselves in succession, the one writing from his captivity in Rome[^[32]], the other from his exile at Patmos[^[33]].

Its religious
worship.

On the religious worship of Laodicea very little special information exists. Its tutelary deity was Zeus, whose guardianship had been recognised in Diospolis, the older name of the city, and who, having (according to the legend) commanded its rebuilding, was commemorated on its coins with the surname Laodicenus[^[34]]. Occasionally he is also called Aseis, a title which perhaps reproduces a Syrian epithet of this deity, ‘the mighty.’ If this interpretation be correct, we have a link of connexion between Laodicea and the religions of the farther East—a connexion far from improbable, considering that Laodicea was refounded by a Syrian king and is not unlikely to have adopted some features of Syrian worship[^[35]].

2. Hierapolis.

Its situation.

2. On the north of the valley, opposite to the sloping hills which mark the site of Laodicea, is a broad level terrace jutting out from the mountain side and overhanging the plain with almost precipitous sides. On this plateau are scattered the vast ruins of Hierapolis[^[36]]. The mountains upon which it abuts occupy the wedge of ground between the Mæander and the Lycus; but, as the Mæander above its junction with the Lycus passes through a narrow ravine, they blend, when seen from a distance, with the loftier range of the Mesogis which overhangs the right bank of the Mæander almost from its source to its embouchure, and form with it the northern barrier to the view, as the Cadmus range does the southern, the broad valley stretching between. Thus Hierapolis may be said to lie over against Mesogis, as Laodicea lies over against Cadmus[^[37]].

Remarkable physical features.

It is at Hierapolis that the remarkable physical features which distinguish the valley of the Lycus display themselves in the fullest perfection. Over the steep cliffs which support the plateau of the city, tumble cascades of pure white stone, the deposit of calcareous matter from the streams which, after traversing this upper level, are precipitated over the ledge into the plain beneath and assume the most fantastic shapes in their descent. At one time overhanging in cornices fringed with stalactites, at another hollowed out into basins or broken up with ridges, they mark the site of the city at a distance, glistening on the mountain-side like foaming cataracts frozen in the fall.

Their relation to the Apostolic history.

But for the immediate history of St Paul’s Epistles the striking beauty of the scenery has no value. It is not probable that he had visited this district when the letters to the Colossians and Laodiceans were written. Were it otherwise, we can hardly suppose, that educated under widely different influences and occupied with deeper and more absorbing thoughts, he would have shared the enthusiasm which this scenery inspires in the modern traveller. Still it will give a reality to our conceptions, if we try to picture to ourselves the external features of that city, which was destined before long to become the adopted home of Apostles and other personal disciples of the Lord, and to play a conspicuous part—second perhaps only to Ephesus—in the history of the Church during the ages immediately succeeding the Apostles.

Hierapolis a famous watering-place.

Like Laodicea, Hierapolis was at this time an important and a growing city, though not like Laodicea holding metropolitan rank[^[38]]. Besides the trade in dyed wools, which it shared in common with the neighbouring towns, it had another source of wealth and prosperity peculiar to itself. The streams to which the scenery owes the remarkable features already described, are endowed with valuable medicinal qualities, while at the same time they are so copious that the ancient city is described as full of self-made baths[^[39]]. An inscription, still legible among the ruins, celebrates their virtues in heroic verse, thus apostrophizing the city:

Hail, fairest soil in all broad Asia’s realm;

Hail, golden city, nymph divine, bedeck’d

With flowing rills, thy jewels[^[40]].

Coins of Hierapolis too are extant of various types, on which Æsculapius and Hygeia appear either singly or together[^[41]]. To this fashionable watering-place, thus favoured by nature, seekers of pleasure and seekers of health alike were drawn.

The magnificence of its ruins.

To the ancient magnificence of Hierapolis its extant ruins bear ample testimony. More favoured than Laodicea, it has not in its immediate neighbourhood any modern town or village of importance, whose inhabitants have been tempted to quarry materials for their houses out of the memorials of its former greatness. Hence the whole plateau is covered with ruins, of which the extent and the good taste are equally remarkable; and of these the palæstra and the thermæ, as might be expected, are among the more prominent.

Its religious worship.

A city, which combined the pursuit of health and of gaiety, had fitly chosen as its patron deity Apollo, the god alike of medicine and of festivity, here worshipped especially as ‘Archegetes,’ the Founder[^[42]]. But more important, as illustrating the religious temper of this Phrygian city, is another fact connected with it. |The Plutonium.|In Hierapolis was a spot called the Plutonium, a hot well or spring, from whose narrow mouth issued a mephitic vapour immediately fatal to those who stood over the opening and inhaled its fumes. To the mutilated priests of Cybele alone (so it was believed) an immunity was given from heaven, which freed them from its deadly effects[^[43]]. Indeed this city appears to have been a chief centre of the passionate mystical devotion of ancient Phrygia. But indications are not wanting, that in addition to this older worship religious rites were borrowed also from other parts of the East, more especially from Egypt[^[44]]. By the multitude of her temples Hierapolis established her right to the title of the ‘sacred city,’ which she bore[^[45]].

The birth-place of Epictetus.

Though at this time we have no record of famous citizens at Hierapolis, such as graced the annals of Laodicea, yet a generation or two later she numbered among her sons one nobler far than the rhetoricians and sophists, the millionaires and princes, of whom her neighbour could boast. The lame slave Epictetus, the loftiest of heathen moralists, must have been growing up to manhood when the first rumours of the Gospel reached his native city. Did any chance throw him across the path of Epaphras, who first announced the glad-tidings there? |Epictetus and Christianity.|Did he ever meet the great Apostle himself, while dragging out his long captivity at Rome, or when after his release he paid his long-promised visit to the valley of the Lycus? We should be glad to think that these two men met together face to face—the greatest of Christian, and the greatest of heathen preachers. Such a meeting would solve more than one riddle. A Christian Epictetus certainly was not; his Stoic doctrine and his Stoic morality are alike apparent: but nevertheless his language presents some strange coincidences with the Apostolic writings, which would thus receive an explanation[^[46]]. It must be confessed however, that of any outward intercourse between the Apostle and the philosopher history furnishes no hint.

3. Colossæ.

3. While the sites of Laodicea and Hierapolis are conspicuous, so that they were early identified by their ruins, the same is not the case with Colossæ. |Difficulty of determining its site.|Only within the present generation has the position of this once famous city been ascertained, and even now it lacks the confirmation of any inscription found in situ and giving the name[^[47]]. |Subterranean channel of the Lycus.|Herodotus states that in Colossæ the river Lycus disappears in a subterranean cave, emerging again at a distance of about five stades[^[48]]; and this very singular landmark--the underground passage of a stream for half a mile—might be thought to have placed the site of the city beyond the reach of controversy. But this is not the case. In the immediate neighbourhood of the only ruins which can possibly be identified with Colossæ, no such subterranean channel has been discovered. But on the other hand the appearance of the river at this point suggests that at one time the narrow gorge through which it runs, as it traverses the ruins, was overarched for some distance with incrustations of travertine, and that this natural bridge was broken up afterwards by an earthquake, so as to expose the channel of the stream[^[49]]. This explanation seems satisfactory. If it be rejected, we must look for the underground channel, not within the city itself, as the words of Herodotus strictly interpreted require, but at some point higher up the stream. In either case there can be little doubt that these are the ruins of Colossæ. |Petrifying stream.|The fact mentioned by Pliny[^[50]], that there is in this city a river which turns brick into stone, is satisfied by a side stream flowing into the Lycus from the north, and laying large deposits of calcareous matter; though in this region, as we have seen, such a phenomenon is very far from rare. The site of Colossæ then, as determined by these considerations, lies two or three miles north of the present town of Chonos, the mediæval Chonæ, and some twelve miles east of Laodicea. The Lycus traverses the site of the ruins, dividing the city into two parts, the necropolis standing on the right or northern bank, and the town itself on the left.

Its ancient greatness

Commanding the approaches to a pass in the Cadmus range, and standing on a great high-way communicating between Eastern and Western Asia, Colossæ at an early date appears as a very important place. Here the mighty host of Xerxes halted on its march against Greece; it is mentioned on this occasion as ‘a great city of Phrygia[^[51]].’ Here too Cyrus remained seven days on his daring enterprise which terminated so fatally; the Greek captain, who records the expedition, speaks of it as ‘a populous city, prosperous and great[^[52]].’ But after this time its glory seems to wane. The political supremacy |and later decline.|of Laodicea and the growing popularity of Hierapolis gradually drain its strength; and Strabo, writing about two generations before St Paul, describes it as a ‘small town[^[53]]’ in the district of which Laodicea was the capital. We shall therefore be prepared to find that, while Laodicea and Hierapolis both hold important places in the early records of the Church, Colossæ disappears wholly from the pages of history. Its comparative insignificance is still attested by its ruins, which are few and meagre[^[54]], while the vast remains of temples, baths, theatres, aqueducts, gymnasia, and sepulchres, strewing the extensive sites of its more fortunate neighbours, still bear witness to their ancient prosperity and magnificence. It is not even mentioned by Ptolemy, though his enumeration of towns includes several inconsiderable places[^[55]]. Without doubt Colossæ was the least important Church, to which any epistle of St Paul was addressed.

Uncertain orthography of the name.

And perhaps also we may regard the variation in the orthography of the name as another indication of its comparative obscurity and its early extinction. Are we to write Colossæ or Colassæ? So far as the evidence goes, the conclusion would seem to be that, while Colossæ alone occurs during the classical period and in St Paul’s time, it was afterwards supplanted by Colassæ, when the town itself had either disappeared altogether or was already passing out of notice[^[56]].

Ethnological relations of the three cities.

Considered ethnologically, these three cities are generally regarded as belonging to Phrygia. But as they are situated on the western border of Phrygia, and as the frontier line separating Phrygia from Lydia and Caria was not distinctly traced, this designation is not persistent[^[57]]. Thus Laodicea is sometimes assigned to Caria, more rarely to Lydia[^[58]]; and again, Hierapolis is described as half Lydian, half Phrygian[^[59]]. On the other hand I have not observed that Colossæ is ever regarded as other than Phrygian[^[60]], partly perhaps because the notices relating to it belong to an earlier date when these several names denoted political as well as ethnological divisions, and their limits were definitely marked in consequence, but chiefly because it lies some miles to the east of the other cities, and therefore farther from the doubtful border land.

Their political relations.

Phrygia however ceased to have any political significance, when this country came under the dominion of the Romans. Politically speaking, the three cities with the rest of the Cibyratic union belonged at this time to Asia, the proconsular province[^[61]]. As an Asiatic Church accordingly Laodicea is addressed in the Apocalyptic letter. To this province they had been assigned in the first instance; then they were handed over to Cilicia[^[62]]; afterwards they were transferred and re-transferred from the one to the other; till finally, before the Christian era, they became a permanent part of Asia, their original province. Here they remained, until the close of the fourth century, when a new distribution of the Roman empire was made, and the province of Phrygia Pacatiana created with Laodicea as its capital[^[63]].

Important Jewish settlement in this neighbourhood.

The Epistle to the Colossians supposes a powerful Jewish colony in Laodicea and the neighbourhood. We are not however left to draw this inference from the epistle alone, but the fact is established by ample independent testimony. When, with the insolent licence characteristic of Oriental kings, Antiochus the Great transplanted two thousand Jewish families from Babylonia and Mesopotamia into Lydia and Phrygia[^[64]],|Colony of Antiochus the Great.| we can hardly doubt that among the principal stations of these new colonists would be the two most thriving cities of Phrygia, which were also the two most important settlements of the Syrian kings, Apamea and Laodicea, the one founded by his grandfather Antiochus the First, the other by his father Antiochus the Second. If the commercial importance of Apamea at this time was greater (for somewhat later it was reckoned second only to Ephesus among the cities of Asia Minor as a centre of trade), the political rank of Laodicea stood higher[^[65]]. When mention is made of Lydia and Phrygia[^[66]], this latter city especially is pointed out by its position, for it stood near the frontier of the two countries. A Jewish settlement once established, the influx of their fellow-countrymen would be rapid and continuous. Accordingly under the Roman domination we find them gathered here in very large numbers.|Confiscations of Flaccus.| When Flaccus the proprætor of Asia (B.C. 62), who was afterwards accused of maladministration in his province and defended by Cicero, forbade the contributions of the Jews to the temple-worship and the consequent exportation of money to Palestine, he seized as contraband not less than twenty pounds weight in gold in the single district of which Laodicea was the capital[^[67]]. Calculated at the rate of a half-shekel for each man, this sum represents a population of more than eleven thousand adult freemen[^[68]]; for women, children, and slaves were exempted. It must be remembered however, that this is only the sum which the Roman officers succeeded in detecting and confiscating; and that therefore the whole Jewish population would probably be much larger than this partial estimate implies. The amount seized at Apamea, the other great Phrygian centre, was five times as large as this[^[69]]. |Other evidence.|Somewhat later we have a document purporting to be a decree of the Laodiceans, in which they thank the Roman Consul for a measure granting to Jews the liberty of observing their sabbaths and practising other rites of their religion[^[70]]; and though this decree is probably spurious, yet it serves equally well to show that at this time Laodicea was regarded as an important centre of the dispersion in Asia Minor. To the same effect may be quoted the extravagant hyperbole in the Talmud, that when on a certain occasion an insurrection of the Jews broke out in Cæsarea the metropolis of Cappadocia, which brought down upon their heads the cruel vengeance of king Sapor and led to a massacre of 12,000, ‘the wall of Laodicea was cloven with the sound of the harpstrings’ in the fatal and premature merriment of the insurgents[^[71]]. This place was doubtless singled out, because it had a peculiar interest for the Jews, as one of their chief settlements[^[72]]. It will be remembered also, that Phrygia is especially mentioned among those countries which furnished their quota of worshippers at Jerusalem, and were thus represented at the baptism of the Christian Church on the great day of Pentecost[^[73]].

Special attractions of Hierapolis.

Mention has already been made of the traffic in dyed wools, which formed the staple of commerce in the valley of the Lycus[^[74]]. It may be inferred from other notices that this branch of trade had a peculiar attraction for the Jews[^[75]]. If so, their commercial instincts would constantly bring fresh recruits to a colony which was already very considerable. But the neighbourhood held out other inducements besides this. Hierapolis, the gay watering place, the pleasant resort of idlers, had charms for them, as well as Laodicea the busy commercial city. At least such was the complaint of stricter patriots at home. ‘The wines and the baths of Phrygia,’ writes a Talmudist bitterly, ‘have separated the ten tribes from Israel[^[76]].’

St Paul had not visited the district when he wrote.

There is no ground for supposing that, when St Paul wrote his Epistle to the Colossians, he had ever visited the church in which he evinces so deep an interest. Whether we examine the narrative in the Acts, or whether we gather up the notices in the epistle itself, we find no hint that he had ever been in this neighbourhood; but on the contrary some expressions indirectly exclude the supposition of a visit to the district.

What is meant by Phrygia in St Luke?

It is true that St Luke more than once mentions Phrygia as lying on St Paul’s route or as witnessing his labours. But Phrygia was a vague and comprehensive term; nor can we assume that the valley of the Lycus was intended, unless the direction of his route or the context of the narrative distinctly points to this south-western corner of Phrygia. In neither of the two passages, where St Paul is stated to have travelled through Phrygia, is this the case.

1. St Paul’s visit to Phrygia on his second missionary journey.

1. On his second missionary journey, after he has revisited and confirmed the churches of Pisidia and Lycaonia founded on his first visit, he passes through ‘the Phrygian and Galatian country[^[77]].’ I have pointed out elsewhere that this expression must be used to denote the region which might be called indifferently Phrygia or Galatia—the land which had originally belonged to the Phrygians and had afterwards been colonised by the Gauls; or the parts of either country which lay in the immediate neighbourhood of this debatable ground[^[78]]. This region lies considerably north and east of the valley of the Lycus. Assuming that the last of the Lycaonian and Pisidian towns at which St Paul halted was Antioch, he would not on any probable supposition approach nearer to Colossæ than Apamea Cibotus on his way to ‘the Phrygian and Galatian country’, nor indeed need he have gone nearly so far westward as this. And again on his departure from this region he journeys by Mysia to Troas, leaving ‘Asia’ on his left hand and Bithynia on his right. Thus the notices of his route conspire to show that his path on this occasion lay far away from the valley of the Lycus.

2. His visit on his third missionary journey.

2. But if he was not brought into the neighbourhood of Colossæ on his second missionary journey, it is equally improbable that he visited it on his third. So far as regards Asia Minor, he seems to have confined himself to revisiting the churches already founded; the new ground which he broke was in Macedonia and Greece. Thus when we are told that during this third journey St Paul after leaving Antioch ‘passed in order through the Galatian country and Phrygia, confirming all the disciples,’[^[79]] we can hardly doubt that ‘the Galatian country and Phrygia’ in this latter passage denotes essentially the same region as ‘the Phrygian and Galatian country’ in the former. The slight change of expression is explained by the altered direction of his route. In the first instance his course, as determined by its extreme limits—Antioch in Pisidia its starting point, and Alexandria Troas its termination—would be northward for the first part of the way, and thus would lie on the border land of Phrygia and Galatia; whereas on this second occasion, when he was travelling from Antioch in Syria to Ephesus, its direction would be generally from east to west, and the more strictly Galatian district would be traversed before the Phrygian. If we suppose him to leave Galatia at Pessinus on its western border, he would pass along the great highway—formerly a Persian and at this time a Roman road—by Synnada and Sardis to Ephesus, traversing the heart of Phrygia, but following the valleys of the Hermus and Cayster, and separated from the Mæander and Lycus by the high mountain ranges which bound these latter to the north[^[80]].

The inference from

Thus St Luke’s narrative seems to exclude any visit of the Apostle to the Churches of the Lycus before his first |St Luke’s narrative|Roman captivity. And this inference is confirmed by St Paul’s own language to the Colossians.

borne out by St Paul’s own language.

He represents his knowledge of their continued progress, and even of their first initiation, in the truths of the Gospel, as derived from the report of others. He describes himself as hearing of their faith in Christ and their love to the saints[^[81]]. He recalls the day when he first heard of their Christian profession and zeal[^[82]]. .|Silence of St Paul.|Though opportunities occur again and again where he would naturally have referred to his direct personal relations with them, if he had been their evangelist, he abstains from any such reference. He speaks of their being instructed in the Gospel, of his own preaching the Gospel, several times in the course of the letter, but he never places the two in any direct connexion, though the one reference stands in the immediate neighbourhood of the other[^[83]]. Moreover, if he had actually visited Colossæ, it must appear strange that he should not once allude to any incident occurring during his sojourn there, for this epistle would then be the single exception to his ordinary practice. And lastly; in one passage at least, if interpreted in its natural sense, he declares that the Colossians were personally unknown to him: ‘I would have you know,’ he writes, ‘how great a conflict I have for you and them that are in Laodicea and as many as have not seen my face in the flesh’[^[84]].

Epaphras was the evangelist of this district.

But, if he was not directly their evangelist, yet to him they were indirectly indebted for their knowledge of the truth. Epaphras had been his delegate to them, his representative in Christ. By Epaphras they had been converted to the Gospel. This is the evident meaning of a passage in the opening of the epistle, which has been much obscured by misreading and mistranslation, and which may be paraphrased thus: ‘The Gospel, which has spread and borne fruit throughout the rest of the world, has been equally successful among yourselves. This fertile growth has been manifested in you from the first day when the message of God’s grace was preached to you, and accepted by you—preached not as now with adulterations by these false teachers, but in its genuine simplicity by Epaphras our beloved fellowservant; he has been a faithful minister of Christ and a faithful representative of us, and from him we have received tidings of your love in the Spirit’[^[85]].

St Paul’s residence at Ephesus instrumental in their conversion.

How or when the conversion of the Colossians took place, we have no direct information. Yet it can hardly be wrong to connect the event with St Paul’s long sojourn at Ephesus. Here he remained preaching for three whole years. It is possible indeed that during this period he paid short visits to other neighbouring cities of Asia: |A.D. 54–57.| but if so, the notices in the Acts oblige us to suppose these interruptions to his residence in Ephesus to have been slight and infrequent[^[86]]. Yet, though the Apostle himself was stationary in the capital, the Apostle’s influence and teaching spread far beyond the limits of the city and its immediate neighbourhood. It was hardly an exaggeration when Demetrius declared that ‘almost throughout all Asia this Paul had persuaded and turned away much people’[^[87]]. The sacred historian himself uses equally strong language in describing the effects of the Apostle’s preaching; ‘All they which dwelt in Asia heard the word of the Lord, both Jews and Greeks’[^[88]]. In accordance with these notices, the Apostle himself in an epistle written during this sojourn sends salutations to Corinth, not from the Church of Ephesus specially, as might have been anticipated, but from the ‘Churches of Asia’ generally[^[89]]. St Luke, it should be observed, ascribes this dissemination of the Gospel, not to journeys undertaken by the Apostle, but to his preaching at Ephesus itself[^[90]]. Thither, as to the metropolis of Western Asia, would flock crowds from all the towns and villages far and near. Thence they would carry away, each to his own neighbourhood, the spiritual treasure which they had so unexpectedly found.

Close alliance of these cities with Ephesus.

Among the places thus represented at the Asiatic metropolis would doubtless be the cities lying in the valley of the Lycus. The bonds of amity between these places and Ephesus appear to have been unusually strong. The Concord of the Laodiceans and Ephesians, the Concord of the Hierapolitans and Ephesians, are repeatedly commemorated on medals struck for the purpose[^[91]]. |The work of Philemon and Nymphas,| Thus the Colossians, Epaphras and Philemon, the latter with his household[^[92]], and perhaps also the Laodicean Nymphas[^[93]], would fall in with the Apostle of the Gentiles and hear from his lips the first tidings of a heavenly life.

but especially Epaphras.

But, whatever service may have been rendered by Philemon at Colossæ, or by Nymphas at Laodicea, it was to Epaphras especially that all the three cities were indebted for their knowledge of the Gospel. Though he was a Colossian by birth, the fervency of his prayers and the energy of his love are represented as extending equally to Laodicea and Hierapolis[^[94]]. It is obvious that he looked upon himself as responsible for the spiritual well-being of all alike.

St Paul still a stranger to this district.

We pass over a period of five or six years. St Paul’s first captivity in Rome is now drawing to a close. During this interval he has not once visited the valley of the Lycus. He has, it is true, skirted the coast and called at Miletus, which lies near the mouth of the Mæander; but, though the elders of Ephesus were summoned to meet him there[^[95]], no mention is made of any representatives from these more distant towns.

His imprisonment at Rome.

I have elsewhere described the Apostle’s circumstances during his residence in Rome, so far as they are known to us[^[96]]. It is sufficient to say here, that though he is still a prisoner, friends new and old minister freely to his wants. Meanwhile the alienation of the Judaic Christians is complete. Three only, remaining faithful to him, are commemorated as honourable exceptions in the general desertion[^[97]].

Colossæ brought before his notice by two incidents.

We have seen that Colossæ was an unimportant place, and that it had no direct personal claims on the Apostle. We might therefore feel surprise that, thus doubly disqualified, it should nevertheless attract his special attention at a critical moment, when severe personal trials were superadded to ‘the care of all the churches.’ But two circumstances, the one affecting his public duties, the other private and personal, happening at this time, conspired to bring Colossæ prominently before his notice.

1. The mission of Epaphras.

1. He had received a visit from Epaphras. The dangerous condition of the Colossian and neighbouring churches had filled the mind of their evangelist with alarm. A strange form of heresy had broken out in these brotherhoods—a combination of Judaic formalism with Oriental mystic speculation—and was already spreading rapidly. His distress was extreme. He gratefully acknowledged and reported their faith in Christ and their works of love[^[98]]. But this only quickened his anxiety. He had ‘much toil for them’; he was ‘ever wrestling in his prayers on their behalf,’ that they might stand fast and not abandon the simplicity of their earlier faith[^[99]]. He came to Rome, we may suppose, for the express purpose of laying this state of things before the Apostle and seeking his counsel and assistance.

2. Onesimus a fugitive in Rome.

2. But at the time when Epaphras paid this visit, St Paul was also in communication with another Colossian, who had visited Rome under very different circumstances. Onesimus, the runaway slave, had sought the metropolis, the common sink of all nations[^[100]], probably as a convenient hiding place, where he might escape detection among its crowds and make a livelihood as best he could. Here, perhaps accidentally, perhaps through the intervention of Epaphras, he fell in with his master’s old friend. The Apostle interested himself in his case, instructed him in the Gospel, and transformed him from a good-for-nothing slave[^[101]] into a ‘faithful and beloved brother[^[102]].’

The Apostle despatches three letters simultaneously.

This combination of circumstances called the Apostle’s attention to the Churches of the Lycus, and more especially to Colossæ. His letters, which had been found ‘weighty and powerful’ in other cases, might not be unavailing now; and in this hope he took up his pen. Three epistles were written and despatched at the same time to this district.

1. The Epistle to the Colossians.

1. He addresses a special letter to the Colossians, written in the joint names of himself and Timothy, warning them against the errors of the false teachers. He gratefully acknowledges the report which he has received of their love and zeal[^[103]]. He assures them of the conflict which agitates him on their behalf[^[104]]. He warns them to be on their guard against the delusive logic of enticing words, against the vain deceit of a false philosophy[^[105]]. |The theological and the practical error of the Colossians.|The purity of their Christianity is endangered by two errors, recommended to them by their heretical leaders—the one theological, the other practical—but both alike springing from the same source, the conception of matter as the origin and abode of evil. Thus, regarding God and matter as directly antagonistic and therefore apart from and having no communication with each other, they sought to explain the creation and government of the world by interposing a series of intermediate beings, emanations or angels, to whom accordingly they offered worship. At the same time, since they held that evil resided, not in the rebellious spirit of man, but in the innate properties of matter, they sought to overcome it by a rigid ascetic discipline, which failed after all to touch the springs of action. |The proper corrective to both lies in the Christ of the Gospel.|As both errors flowed from the same source, they must be corrected by the application of the same remedy, the Christ of the Gospel. In the Person of Christ, the one mediator between heaven and earth, is the true solution of the theological difficulty. Through the Life in Christ, the purification of the heart through faith and love, is the effectual triumph over moral evil[^[106]]. |References to Epaphras.|St Paul therefore prescribes to the Colossians the true teaching of the Gospel, as the best antidote to the twofold danger which threatens at once their theological creed and their moral principles; while at the same time he enforces his lesson by the claims of personal affection, appealing to the devotion of their evangelist Epaphras on their behalf[^[107]].

Of Epaphras himself we know nothing beyond the few but significant notices which connect him with Colossæ[^[108]]. He did not return to Colossæ as the bearer of the letter, but remained behind with St Paul[^[109]]. As St Paul in a contemporary epistle designates him his fellow-prisoner[^[110]], it may be inferred that his zeal and affection had involved him in the Apostle’s captivity, and that his continuance in Rome was enforced. But however this may be, the letter was placed in the hands of Tychicus, a native of proconsular Asia, probably of Ephesus[^[111]],|Tychicus and Onesimus accompany the letter.| who was entrusted with a wider mission at this time, and in its discharge would be obliged to visit the valley of the Lycus[^[112]]. At the same time he was accompanied by Onesimus, whom the Colossians had only known hitherto as a worthless slave, but who now returns to them with the stamp of the Apostle’s warm approval. St Paul says very little about himself, because Tychicus and Onesimus would be able by word of mouth to communicate all information to the Colossians[^[113]]. |The salutations.|But he sends one or two salutations which deserve a few words of explanation. Epaphras of course greets his fellow-townsmen and children in the faith. Other names are those of Aristarchus the Thessalonian, who had been with the Apostle at Ephesus[^[114]] and may possibly have formed some personal connexion with the Colossians at that time: Mark, against whom apparently the Apostle fears that a prejudice may be entertained (perhaps the fact of his earlier desertion, and of St Paul’s dissatisfaction in consequence[^[115]], may have been widely known), and for whom therefore he asks a favourable reception at his approaching visit to Colossæ, according to instructions which they had already received; and Jesus the Just, of whose relations with the Colossians we know nothing, and whose only claim to a mention may have been his singular fidelity to the Apostle at a critical juncture. Salutations moreover are added from Luke and from Demas; and here again their close companionship with the Apostle is, so far as we know, the sole cause of their names appearing[^[116]].

Charge respecting Laodicea.

Lastly, the Laodiceans were closely connected with the Colossians by local and spiritual ties. To the Church of Laodicea therefore, and to the household of one Nymphas who was a prominent member of it, he sends greeting. At the same time he directs them to interchange letters with the Laodiceans; for to Laodicea also he had written. And he closes his salutations with a message to Archippus, a resident either at Colossæ or at Laodicea (for on this point we are left to conjecture), who held some important office in the Church, and respecting whose zeal he seems to have entertained a misgiving[^[117]].

2. The Letter to Philemon.

2. But, while providing for the spiritual welfare of the whole Colossian Church, he did not forget the temporal interests of its humblest member. Having attended to the solicitations of the evangelist Epaphras, he addressed himself to the troubles of the runaway slave Onesimus. The mission of Tychicus to Colossæ was a favourable opportunity of restoring him to Philemon; for Tychicus, well known as the Apostle’s friend and fellow-labourer, might throw the shield of his protection over him and avert the worst consequences of Philemon’s anger. But, not content with this measure of precaution, the Apostle himself writes to Philemon on the offender’s behalf, recommending him as a changed man[^[118]], and claiming forgiveness for him as a return due from Philemon to himself as to his spiritual father[^[119]].

The salutations in this letter are the same as those in the Epistle to the Colossians with the exception of Jesus Justus, whose name is omitted[^[120]]. Towards the close St Paul declares his hope of release and intention of visiting Colossæ, and asks Philemon to ‘prepare a lodging’ for him[^[121]].

3. The Circular Letter, of which a copy is sent to Laodicea.

3. But at the same time with the two letters destined especially for Colossæ, the Apostle despatched a third, which had a wider scope. It has been already mentioned that Tychicus was charged with a mission to the Asiatic Churches. It has been noticed also that the Colossians were directed to procure and read a letter in the possession of the Laodiceans. These two facts are closely connected. The Apostle wrote at this time a circular letter to the Asiatic Churches, which got its ultimate designation from the metropolitan city and is consequently known to us as the Epistle to the Ephesians[^[122]]. It was the immediate object of Tychicus’ journey to deliver copies of this letter at all the principal centres of Christianity in the district, and at the same time to communicate by word of mouth the Apostle’s special messages to each[^[123]]. Among these centres was Laodicea. Thus his mission brought him into the immediate neighbourhood of Colossæ. But he was not charged to deliver another copy of the circular letter at Colossæ itself, for this Church would be regarded only as a dependency of Laodicea; and besides he was the bearer of a special letter from the Apostle to them. It was sufficient therefore to provide that the Laodicean copy should be circulated and read at Colossæ.

Personal links connecting the three letters.

Thus the three letters are closely related. Tychicus is the personal link of connexion between the Epistles to the Ephesians and to the Colossians; Onesimus between those to the Colossians and to Philemon.

For reasons given elsewhere[^[124]], it would appear that these three letters were written and despatched towards the close of |Earthquake in the Lycus Valley.|the Apostle’s captivity, about the year 63. At some time not very distant from this date, a great catastrophe overtook the cities of the Lycus valley. An earthquake was no uncommon occurrence in this region[^[125]]. But on this occasion the shock had been unusually violent, and Laodicea, the flourishing and populous, was laid in ruins. Tacitus, who is our earliest authority for this fact, places it in the year 60 and is silent about the neighbouring towns[^[126]]. Eusebius however makes it subsequent |Its probable date.|to the burning of Rome (A.D. 64), and mentions Hierapolis and Colossæ also as involved in the disaster[^[127]]; while later writers, adopting the date of Eusebius and including the three cities with him, represent it as one of a series of divine judgments on the heathen world for the persecution of the Christians which followed on the fire[^[128]]. Having no direct knowledge of the source from which Eusebius derived his information, we should naturally be disposed to accept the authority of Tacitus for the date, as more trustworthy. But, as indications occur elsewhere that Eusebius followed unusually good authorities in recording these earthquakes[^[129]], it is far from improbable that he |Bearing on the chronology of these letters.| gives the correct date[^[130]]. In this case the catastrophe was subsequent to the writing of these letters. If on the other hand the year named by Tacitus be adopted, we gain a subsidiary confirmation of the comparatively late date which I have ventured to assign to these epistles on independent grounds; for, if they had been written two years earlier, when the blow was recent, we might reasonably have expected to find some reference to a disaster which had devastated Laodicea and from which Colossæ cannot have escaped altogether without injury. The additional fact mentioned by the Roman historian, that Laodicea was rebuilt from her own resources without the usual assistance from Rome[^[131]], is valuable as illustrating a later notice in the Apostolic writings[^[132]].

St Mark’s intended visit.

It has been seen that, when these letters were written, St Mark was intending shortly to visit Colossæ, and that the Apostle himself, looking forward to his release, hoped at length to make a personal acquaintance with these Churches, which hitherto he knew only through the report of others. Whether St Mark’s visit was ever paid or not, we have no means of determining[^[133]]. Of St Paul himself it is reasonable to assume, |St Paul probably visits Colossæ.| that in the interval between his first and second Roman captivity he found some opportunity of carrying out his design. At all events we find him at Miletus, near to the mouth of the Mæander[^[134]]; and the journey between this place and Laodicea is neither long nor difficult.

St John in Asia Minor.

At the time of this visit—the first and last, we may suppose, which he paid to the valley of the Lycus—St Paul’s direction of the Asiatic Churches is drawing to a close. With his death they pass into the hands of St John[^[135]], who takes up his abode in Asia Minor. Of Colossæ and Hierapolis we hear nothing more in the New Testament: but from his exile in|The message to Laodicea.| Patmos the beloved disciple delivers his Lord’s message to the Church of Laodicea[^[136]]; a message doubtless intended to be communicated also to the two subordinate Churches, to which it would apply almost equally well.

Correspondences between the Apocalypse and St Paul’s Epistles.

The message communicated by St John to Laodicea prolongs the note which was struck by St Paul in the letter to Colossæ. An interval of a very few years has not materially altered the character of these Churches. Obviously the same temper prevails, the same errors are rife, the same correction must be applied.

1. The doctrine of the Person of Christ,

1. Thus, while St Paul finds it necessary to enforce the truth that Christ is the image of the invisible God, that in Him all the divine fulness dwells, that He existed before all things, that through Him all things were created and in Him all things are sustained, that He is the primary source (ἀρχή) and has the pre-eminence in all things[^[137]]; so in almost identical language St John, speaking in the person of our Lord, declares that He is the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the primary source (ἀρχή) of the creation of God[^[138]]. Some lingering shreds of the old heresy, we may suppose, still hung about these Churches, and instead of ‘holding fast the Head’ they were even yet prone to substitute intermediate agencies, angelic mediators, as links in the chain which should bind man to God. They still failed to realise the majesty and significance, the completeness, of the Person of Christ.

and practical duties which follow upon it.

And the practical duty also, which follows from the recognition of the theological truth, is enforced by both Apostles in very similar language. If St Paul entreats the Colossians to seek those things which are above, where Christ is seated on the right hand of God[^[139]], and in the companion epistle, which also he directs them to read, reminds the Churches that God raised them with Christ and seated them with him in heavenly places in Christ Jesus[^[140]]; in like manner St John gives this promise to the Laodiceans in the name of his Lord: ‘He that overcometh, I will grant to him to sit with me in my throne, even as I also overcame and did sit with my Father in His throne[^[141]]’.

2. Warning against lukewarmness.

2. But again; after a parting salutation to the Church of Laodicea St Paul closes with a warning to Archippus, apparently its chief pastor, to take heed to his ministry[^[142]]. Some signs of slackened zeal seem to have called forth this rebuke. It may be an accidental coincidence, but it is at least worthy of notice, that lukewarmness is the special sin denounced in the angel of the Laodiceans, and that the necessity of greater earnestness is the burden of the message to that Church[^[143]]. As with the people, so is it with the priest. The community takes its colour from and communicates its colour to its spiritual rulers. The ‘be zealous’ of St John is the counterpart to the ‘take heed’ of St Paul.

3. The pride of wealth denounced.

3. Lastly; in the Apocalyptic message the pride of wealth is sternly condemned in the Laodicean Church: ‘For that thou sayest I am rich and have gotten me riches and have need of nothing, and knowest not that thou art utterly wretched and miserable and beggarly and blind and naked, I counsel thee to buy gold of me refined with fire, that thou mayest have riches[^[144]].’ This proud vaunt receives its best illustration from a recent occurrence at Laodicea, to which allusion has already been made. Only a very few years before this date an earthquake had laid the city in ruins. Yet from this catastrophe she rose again with more than her former splendour. |The vaunt of Laodicea.|This however was not her chief title to respect. While other cities, prostrated by a like visitation, had sought relief from the concessions of the Roman senate or the liberality of the emperor’s purse, it was the glory of Laodicea that she alone neither courted nor obtained assistance, but recovered by her own resources. ‘Nullo a nobis remedio,’ says the Roman historian, ‘propriis opibus revaluit[^[145]].’ Thus she had asserted a proud independence, to which neither far-famed metropolitan Ephesus, nor old imperial Sardis, nor her prosperous commercial neighbours, Apamea and Cibyra, could lay claim[^[146]]. No one would dispute her boast that she ‘had gotten riches and had need of nothing.’

Pride of intellectual wealth.

But is there not a second and subsidiary idea underlying the Apocalyptic rebuke? The pride of intellectual wealth, we may well suspect, was a temptation at Laodicea hardly less strong than the pride of material resources. When St Paul wrote, the theology of the Gospel and the comprehension of the Church were alike endangered by a spirit of intellectual exclusiveness[^[147]] in these cities. He warned them against a vain philosophy, against a show of wisdom, against an intrusive mystic speculation, which vainly puffed up the fleshly mind[^[148]]. He tacitly contrasted with this false intellectual wealth ‘the riches of the glory of God’s mystery revealed in Christ[^[149]],’ the riches of the full assurance of understanding, the genuine treasures of wisdom and knowledge[^[150]]. May not the same contrast be discerned in the language of St John? The Laodiceans boast of their enlightenment, but they are blind, and to cure their blindness they must seek eye-salve from the hands of the great Physician. They vaunt their wealth of knowledge, but they are wretched paupers, and must beg the refined gold of the Gospel to relieve their wants[^[151]].

This is the last notice in the Apostolic records relating to the Churches in the valley of the Lycus; but during the succeeding ages the Christian communities of this district play a conspicuous part in the struggles and the development of the Church. |The early disciples settle in proconsular Asia|When after the destruction of Jerusalem St John fixed his abode at Ephesus, it would appear that not a few of the oldest surviving members of the Palestinian Church accompanied him into ‘Asia,’ which henceforward became the head-quarters of Apostolic authority. In this body of emigrants Andrew[^[152]] and Philip among the Twelve, Aristion and John the presbyter[^[153]] among other personal disciples of the Lord, are especially mentioned.

and especially at Hierapolis.

Among the chief settlements of this Christian dispersion was Hierapolis. This fact explains how these Phrygian Churches assumed a prominence in the ecclesiastical history of the second century, for which we are hardly prepared by their antecedents as they appear in connexion with St Paul, and which they failed to maintain in the history of the later Church.

Here at all events was settled Philip of Bethsaida[^[154]], the |Philip the Apostle with his daughters.| early friend and fellow-townsman of St John, and the first Apostle who is recorded to have held communication with the Gentiles[^[155]]. Here he died and was buried; and here after his decease lived his two virgin daughters, who survived to a very advanced age and thus handed down to the second century the traditions of the earliest days of the Church. A third daughter, who was married, had settled in Ephesus, where her body rested[^[156]]. |Their traditions collected by Papias.|It was from the two daughters who resided at Hierapolis, that Papias heard several stories of the first preachers of the Gospel, which he transmitted to posterity in his work[^[157]].

This Papias had conversed not only with the daughters of Philip, but also with at least two personal disciples of the Lord, Aristion and John the presbyter. He made it his business to gather traditions respecting the sayings of the Saviour and His Apostles; and he published a work in five books, entitled An Exposition of the Oracles of the Lord, using the information thus collected to illustrate the discourses, and perhaps the doings, of Christ as recorded in the Gospels[^[158]]. Among other stories he related, apparently on the authority of these daughters of Philip, how a certain dead man had been restored to life in his own day, and how Justus Barsabas, who is mentioned in the Acts, had drunk a deadly poison and miraculously escaped from any evil effects[^[159]].

Life and teaching of Papias.

If we may judge by his name, Papias was a native of Phrygia, probably of Hierapolis[^[160]], of which he afterwards became bishop, and must have grown up to youth or early manhood before the close of the first century. He is said to have suffered martyrdom at Pergamum about the year 165; but there is good reason for distrusting this statement, independently of any chronological difficulty which it involves[^[161]]. Otherwise |Account of Eusebius.|he must have lived to a very advanced age. Eusebius, to whom chiefly we owe our information respecting him, was repelled by his millennarian views, and describes him as a man of mean intelligence[^[162]], accusing him of misunderstanding the Apostolic sayings respecting the kingdom of Christ and thus interpreting in a material sense expressions which were intended to be mystical and symbolical. This disparaging account, though one-sided, was indeed not altogether undeserved, for his love of the marvellous seems to have overpowered his faculty of discrimination. But the adverse verdict of Eusebius must be corrected by the more sympathetic language of Irenæus[^[163]], who possibly may have known him personally, and who certainly must have been well acquainted with his reputation and character.

Much has been written respecting the relation of this writer to the Canonical Gospels, but the discussion has no very direct bearing on our special subject, and may be dismissed here[^[164]]. One question however, which has a real importance as affecting the progress of the Gospel in these parts, has been raised by modern criticism and must not be passed over in silence.

A modern hypothesis respecting Christianity in Asia Minor stated and discussed.

It has been supposed that there was an entire dislocation and discontinuity in the history of Christianity in Asia Minor at a certain epoch; that the Apostle of the Gentiles was ignored and his teaching repudiated, if not anathematized; and that on its ruins was erected the standard of Judaism, around which with a marvellous unanimity deserters from the Pauline Gospel rallied. Of this retrograde faith St John is supposed to have been the great champion, and Papias a typical and important representative[^[165]].

The subject, as a whole, is too wide for a full investigation here. I must content myself with occupying a limited area, showing not only the historical baselessness, but the strong inherent improbability of the theory, as applied to Hierapolis and the neighbouring churches. As this district is its chief strong-hold, a repulse at this point must involve its ultimate defeat along the whole line.

The position of St John

Of St John himself I have already spoken[^[166]]. It has been shown that his language addressed to these Churches is not only not opposed to St Paul’s teaching, but presents remarkable coincidences with it. So far at least the theory finds no support; and, when from St John we turn to Papias, the case is not different. |and of Papias.|The advocates of the hypothesis in question lay the chief stress of their argument on the silence of Papias, or rather of Eusebius. Eusebius quotes a passage from Papias, in which the bishop of Hierapolis mentions collecting from trustworthy sources the sayings of certain Apostles and early disciples; but St Paul is not named among them. He also gives short extracts from Papias referring to the Gospels of St Matthew and St Mark, and mentions that this writer made use of the first Epistle of St John and the first Epistle of St Peter; but here again there is no allusion to St Paul’s writings. Whether referring to the personal testimony or to the Canonical writings of the Apostles, Papias, we are reminded, is equally silent about St Paul.

On both these points a satisfactory answer can be given; but the two cases are essentially different, and must be considered apart.

1. The traditions collected by Papias.

(1) The range of personal testimony which Papias would be able to collect depended on his opportunities. Before he had grown up to manhood, the personal reminiscences of St Paul would have almost died out. The Apostle of the Gentiles had not resided more than three years even at Ephesus, and seems to have paid only one brief visit to the valley of the Lycus, even if he visited it at all. Such recollections of St Paul as might once have lingered here would certainly be overshadowed by and forgotten in the later sojourn of St John, which, beginning where they ceased, extended over more than a quarter of a century. To St John, and to those personal disciples of Christ who surrounded him, Papias and his contemporaries would naturally and almost inevitably look for the traditions which they so eagerly collected. This is the case with the leading representative of the Asiatic school in the next generation, Irenæus, whose traditions are almost wholly derived from St John and his companions, while at the same time he evinces an entire sympathy with the work and teaching of St Paul. But indeed, even if it had been otherwise, the object which Papias had directly in view did not suggest any appeal to St Paul’s authority. He was writing an ‘Exposition of the Oracles of the Lord,’ and he sought to supplement and interpret these by traditions of our Lord’s life, such as eyewitnesses only could give. St Paul could have no place among those personal disciples of Christ, of whom alone he is speaking in this preface to his work, which Eusebius quotes.

2. His references to the Canonical writings.

(2) But, though we have no right to expect any mention of St Paul where the appeal is to personal testimony, yet with quotations from or references to the Canonical writings the case, it may be argued, is different. Here at all events we might look for some recognition of St Paul. To this argument it would perhaps be a sufficient reply, that St Paul’s Epistles do not furnish any matter which must necessarily have been introduced into a work such as Papias composed. But the complete and decisive answer is this; that the silence of Eusebius, so far from carrying with it the silence of Papias, does not |No weight to be attached to the silence of Eusebius.| even afford a presumption in this direction. Papias may have quoted St Paul again and again, and yet Eusebius would see no reason to chronicle the fact. His usage in other cases is decisive on this point. The Epistle of Polycarp which was read by Eusebius is the same which we still possess. Not only does it teem with the most obvious quotations from St Paul, but in one passage it directly mentions his writing to the Philippians[^[167]]. Yet the historian, describing its relation to the Canonical Scriptures, contents himself with saying that it ‘employs some testimonies from the former Epistle of Peter[^[168]].’ Exactly similar is his language respecting Irenæus also. Irenæus, as is well known, cites by name almost every one of St Paul’s Epistles; yet the description which Eusebius gives under this same head, after quoting this writer’s notices respecting the history of the Gospels and the Apocalypse, is that ‘he mentions also the first Epistle of John, alleging very many testimonies from it, and in like manner also the former Epistle of Peter[^[169]].’ There is every reason therefore to suppose that Eusebius would deal with Papias as he has dealt with Polycarp and Irenæus, and that, unless Papias had introduced some curious fact relating to St Paul, it would not have occurred to him to record mere quotations from or references to this Apostle’s letters. It may be supposed that Eusebius records with a fair amount of attention references to the Catholic Epistles in early writers, because the limits of the Canon in this part were not accurately fixed. On the other hand the Epistles of St Paul were universally received and therefore did not need to be accredited by any such testimony. But whatever may be the explanation, the fact is patent, and it furnishes a complete answer to the argument drawn from his silence in the case of Papias[^[170]].

The views of Papias inferred from his associates.

But, if the assumption has been proved to be baseless, have we any grounds for saying that it is also highly improbable? Here it seems fair to argue from the well-known to the unknown. Of the opinions of Papias respecting St Paul we know absolutely nothing; of the opinions of Polycarp and Irenæus ample evidence lies before us. Noscitur a sociis is a sound maxim to apply in such a case. Papias was a companion of Polycarp, and he is quoted with deference by Irenæus[^[171]]. Is it probable that his opinions should be diametrically opposed to those of his friend and contemporary on a cardinal point affecting the very conception of Christianity (for the rejection of St Paul must be considered in this light)? or that this vital heterodoxy, if it existed, should have escaped an intelligent critic of the next generation who had the five books of his work before him, who himself had passed his early life in Asia Minor, and who yet appeals to Papias as preserving the doctrinal tradition which had been handed down from the Apostles themselves to his own time? I say nothing of Eusebius himself, who, with a distinct prejudice against Papias, accuses him of no worse heresy in his writings than entertaining millennarian views.

Millennarian views consistent with the recognition of St Paul.

It may indeed be confessed that a man like Papias, whose natural bent, assisted by his Phrygian education, was towards sensuous views of religion, would not be likely to appreciate the essentially spiritual teaching of St Paul; but this proves nothing. The difference between unconscious want of sympathy and conscious rejection is all important for the matter in hand. The same charge might be brought against numberless theologians, whether in the middle ages or in more modern times, into whose minds it never entered to question the authority of the Apostle and who quote his writings with the utmost reverence. Neither in the primitive days of Christianity nor in its later stages has the profession of Chiliastic views been found inconsistent with the fullest recognition of St Paul’s Apostolic claims. In the early Church Irenæus and Tertullian are notable instances of this combination; and in our own age and country a tendency to millennarian speculations has been commonly associated with the staunchest adherence to the fundamental doctrines of St Paul.

Abercius probably his successor.

As the successor of Papias and the predecessor of Claudius Apollinaris in the see of Hierapolis, we may perhaps name Abercius or Avircius[^[172]]. His legendary Acts assign his episcopate to the reign of Marcus Aurelius; and, though they are disfigured by extravagant fictions, yet the date may perhaps be accepted, as it seems to be confirmed by other evidence. An inscription on his tombstone recorded how he had paid one |His journeys.| visit to the city of Rome, and another to the banks of the Euphrates. These long journeys are not without parallels in the lives of contemporary bishops. Polycarp of Smyrna visited Rome, hoping to adjust the Paschal controversy; Melito of Sardis went as far as Palestine, desiring to ascertain on the spot the facts relating to the Canon of the Old Testament Scriptures. These or similar motives may have influenced Abercius to undertake his distant journeys. If we may assume the identification of this bishop with one Avircius Marcellus who is mentioned in a contemporary document, he took an active interest in the Montanist controversy, as from his position he was likely to do.

Claudius Apollinaris bishop of Hierapolis.

The literary character of the see of Hierapolis, which had been inaugurated by Papias, was ably sustained by Claudius Apollinaris. His surname, which seems to have been common in these parts[^[173]], may have been derived from the patron deity of Hierapolis[^[174]] and suggests a Gentile origin. His intimate acquaintance with heathen literature, which is mentioned by more than one ancient writer, points in the same direction. During the reign of M. Aurelius he had already made himself a name by his writings, and seems to have been promoted to the see of Hierapolis before the death of that emperor[^[175]].

His literary works.

Of his works, which were very numerous, only a few scanty fragments have survived[^[176]]. The imperfect lists however, which have reached us, bear ample testimony both to the literary activity of the man, and to the prominence of the Church, over which he presided, in the great theological and ecclesiastical controversies of the age.

He takes part in the two chief controversies of the day.

The two questions, which especially agitated the Churches of Asia Minor during the last thirty years of the first century, were the celebration of the Easter festival and the pretensions of the Montanist prophets. In both disputes Claudius Apollinaris took an active and conspicuous part.

1. The Paschal question.

1. The Paschal controversy, after smouldering long both here and elsewhere, first burst into flames in the neighbouring Church of Laodicea[^[178]]. An able bishop of Hierapolis therefore must necessarily have been involved in the dispute, even if he had been desirous of avoiding it. What side Apollinaris took in the controversy the extant fragments of his work do not by themselves enable us to decide; for they deal merely with a subsidiary question which does not seriously affect the main issue[^[179]]. But we can hardly doubt that with Polycarp of Smyrna and Melito of Sardis and Polycrates of Ephesus he defended the practice which was universal in Asia[^[180]], observing the Paschal anniversary on the 14th Nisan whether it fell on a Friday or not, and invoking the authority of St John at Ephesus, and of St Philip at his own Hierapolis[^[181]], against the divergent usage of Alexandria and Palestine and the West.

2. Montanism.

2. His writings on the Montanist controversy were still more famous, and are recommended as an authority on the subject by Serapion of Antioch a few years after the author’s death[^[182]]. Though later than many of his works[^[183]], they were written soon after Montanus had divulged the extravagance of his pretensions and before Montanism had attained its complete development. If a later notice may be trusted, Apollinaris was not satisfied with attacking Montanism in writing, but summoned at Hierapolis a council of twenty-six bishops besides himself, where this heresy was condemned and sentence of excommunication pronounced against Montanus together with his adherent the pretended prophetess Maximilla[^[184]].

His other hæresiological writings.

Nor were his controversial writings confined to these two topics. In one place he refuted the Encratites[^[185]]; in another he upheld the orthodox teaching respecting the true humanity of Christ[^[186]]. It is plain that he did not confine himself to questions especially affecting Asia Minor; but that the doctrine and the practice of the Church generally found in him a vigorous advocate, who was equally opposed to the novelties of heretical teaching and the rigours of overstrained asceticism.

Nor again did Apollinaris restrict himself to controversies carried on between Christian and Christian. He appears alike as the champion of the Gospel against attacks from without, and as the promoter of Christian life and devotion within the pale of the Church. |His apologetic| On the one hand he was the author of an apology addressed to M. Aurelius[^[187]], of a controversial treatise in five books against the Greeks, and of a second in two books against the Jews[^[188]]; on the other we find mentioned among his |and didactic works.| writings a work in two books on Truth, and a second on Piety, besides several of which the titles have not come down to us[^[189]]. He seems indeed to have written on almost every subject which interested the Church of his age. He was not only well versed in the Scriptures, but showed a wide acquaintance with secular literature also[^[190]]. His style is praised by a competent judge[^[191]], and his orthodoxy was such as to satisfy the dogmatic precision of the post-Nicene age[^[192]].

Important bearing of these facts on the history of Christianity.

These facts are not unimportant in their bearing on the question which has been already discussed in relation to Papias. If there had been such a discontinuity of doctrine and practice in the Church of Hierapolis as the theory in question assumes, if the Pauline Gospel was repudiated in the later years of the first century and rank Judaism adopted in its stead, how can we explain the position of Apollinaris? Obviously a counter-revolution must have taken place, which undid the effects of the former. One dislocation must have been compensated by another. And yet Irenæus knows nothing of these religious convulsions which must have shaken the doctrine of the Church to its foundations, but represents the tradition as one, continuous, unbroken, reaching back through the elders of the Asiatic Churches, through Papias and Polycarp, to St John himself—Irenæus who received his Christian education in Asia Minor, who throughout life was in communication with the churches there, and who had already reached middle age when this second revolution is supposed to have occurred. The demands on our credulity, which this theory makes, are enormous. And its improbability becomes only the more glaring, as we extend our view.|Solidarity of the Church in the second century.| For the solidarity of the Church is the one striking fact unmistakably revealed to us, as here and there the veil which shrouds the history of the second century is lifted. Anicetus and Soter and Eleutherus and Victor at Rome, Pantænus and Clement at Alexandria, Polycrates at Ephesus, Papias and Apollinaris at Hierapolis, Polycarp at Smyrna, Melito at Sardis, Ignatius and Serapion at Antioch, Primus and Dionysius at Corinth, Pothinus and Irenæus in Gaul, Philippus and Pinytus in Crete, Hegesippus and Narcissus in Palestine, all are bound together by the ties of a common organization and the sympathy of a common creed. The Paschal controversy is especially valuable, as showing the limits of divergence consistent with the unity of the Church. The study of this controversy teaches us to appreciate with ever increasing force the pregnant saying of Irenæus that the difference of the usage establishes the harmony of the faith[^[193]].

Activity of Laodicea.

Though Laodicea cannot show the same intellectual activity as Hierapolis during the second century, yet in practical energy she is not wanting.

Martyrdom of Sagaris. c. A.D. 165.

The same persecution, which, permitted if not encouraged by the imperial Stoic, was fatal to Polycarp at Smyrna, deprived Laodicea also of her bishop Sagaris[^[194]]. The exact year in which he fell a martyr is not known; but we can hardly be wrong in assuming that his death was nearly coincident with those of Polycarp and his companions. His name appears to have been held in great honour[^[195]].

Outbreak of the Paschal controversy.

But while the Church of Laodicea was thus contending against foes without, she was also torn asunder by feuds within. Coincident with the martyrdom of Sagaris was the outburst of the Paschal controversy, of which mention has been already made, and which for more than a century and a half disturbed the peace of the Church, until it was finally laid at rest by the Council of Nicæa. The Laodiceans would naturally regulate their festival by the Asiatic or Quartodeciman usage, strictly observing the day of the month and disregarding the day of the week. But a great commercial centre like Laodicea must have attracted large crowds of foreign Christians from Palestine or Egypt or Rome or Gaul, who were accustomed to commemorate the Passion always on a Friday and the Resurrection on a Sunday according to the western practice; and in this way probably the dispute arose. The treatise on the Paschal Festival by Melito of Sardis was written on this occasion to defend the Asiatic practice. The fact that Laodicea became the head-quarters of the controversy is a speaking testimony to the prominence of this Church in the latter half of the second century.

Hierapolis and Laodicea in later history.

At a later date the influence of both Hierapolis and Laodicea has sensibly declined. In the great controversies of the fourth s and fifth centuries they take no conspicuous part. Among their bishops there is not one who has left his mark on history. And yet their names appear at most of the great Councils, in which they bear a silent part. |The Arian heresy.
Nicæa
A.D. 325.|At Nicæa Hierapolis was represented by Flaccus[^[196]], Laodicea by Nunechius[^[197]]. They both acquiesced in its decrees, and the latter as metropolitan published them throughout the Phrygian Churches[^[198]]. Soon after, both sees lapsed into Arianism. |Philippopolis A.D. 347.| At the synod of Philippopolis, composed of bishops who had seceded from the Council of Sardica, the representatives of these two sees were present and joined in the condemnation of the Athanasians. On this occasion Hierapolis was still represented by Flaccus, who had thus turned traitor to his former faith[^[199]]. On the other hand Laodicea had changed its bishop twice meanwhile. Cecropius had won the imperial favour by his abuse of the orthodox party, and was first promoted to Laodicea, whence he was translated to Nicomedia[^[200]]. He was succeeded by Nonnius, who signed the Arian decree at Philippopolis[^[201]]. When these sees recovered their orthodoxy we |Constantinople. A.D. 381.]| do not know; but it is perhaps a significant fact, that neither is represented at the second general Council, held at Constantinople |The Nestorian and Eutychian heresies.
Ephesus.
A.D. 431.| (A.D. 381)[^[202]]. At the third general Council, which met at Ephesus, Laodicea is represented by Aristonicus, Hierapolis by Venantius[^[203]]. Both bishops sign the decrees condemning Nestorius. Again in the next Christological controversy which agitated the Church the two sees bear their part. At the notorious |Latrocinium. A.D. 449.| Robbers’ Synod, held also at Ephesus, Laodicea was represented by another Nunechius, Hierapolis by Stephanus. Both bishops committed themselves to the policy of Dioscorus and the opinions of the heretic Eutyches[^[204]]. Yet with the fickleness which characterized these sees at an earlier date during the Arian controversy, we find their representatives two years |Chalcedon. A.D. 451.| later at the Council of Chalcedon siding with the orthodox party and condemning the Eutychian heresy which they had so lately supported[^[205]]. Nunechius is still bishop of Laodicea, and reverses his former vote. Stephanus has been succeeded at Hierapolis by Abercius, whose orthodoxy, so far as we know, had not been compromised by any previous expression of opinion[^[206]].

Later vacillation of these sees.

The history of these churches at a later date is such as might have been anticipated from their attitude during the period of the first Four General Councils. The sees of Laodicea and Hierapolis, one or both, are represented at all the more important assemblies of the Church; and the same vacillation and infirmity of purpose, which had characterized their holders in the earlier councils, marks the proceedings of their later successors[^[207]].

Their comparative unimportance.

But, though the two sees thus continue to bear witness to their existence by the repeated presence of their occupants at councils and synods, yet the real influence of Laodicea and Hierapolis on the Church at large has terminated with the close of the second century. On one occasion only did either |Council of Laodicea an exception.| community assume a position of prominence. About the middle of the fourth century a council was held at Laodicea[^[208]]. It |Its decree on the Canon.| was convened more especially to settle some points of ecclesiastical discipline; but incidentally the assembled bishops were led to make an order respecting the Canon of Scripture[^[209]]. As this was the first occasion in which the subject had been brought formally before the notice of an ecclesiastical assembly this Council of Laodicea secured a notoriety which it would not otherwise have obtained, and to which it was hardly entitled by its constitution or its proceedings. Its decrees were confirmed and adopted by later councils both in the East and in the West[^[210]].

Its decrees illustrate the Epistle to the Colossians.

More important however for my special purpose, than the influence of this synod on the Church at large, is the light which its canons throw on the heretical tendencies of this district, and on the warnings of St Paul in the Colossian Epistle. To illustrate this fact it will only be necessary to write out some of these canons at length:

Col. ii. 14, 16, 17.

29. ‘It is not right for Christians to Judaize and abstain from labour on the sabbath, but to work on this same day. They should pay respect rather to the Lord’s day, and, if possible, abstain from labour on it as Christians. But if they should be found Judaizers, let them be anathema in the sight of Christ.’

Col. ii. 18.

35. ‘It is not right for Christians to abandon the Church of God and go away and invoke angels (ἀγγέλους ὀνομάζειν)[^[211]] and hold conventicles (συνάξεις ποιεῖν); for these things are forbidden. If therefore any one is found devoting himself to this secret idolatry, let him be anathema, because he abandoned our Lord Jesus Christ and went after idolatry.’

36. ‘It is not right for priests or clergy to be magicians or enchanters or mathematicians or astrologers[^[212]], or to make safe-guards (φυλακτήρια) as they are called, for such things are prisons (δεσμωτήρια) of their souls[^[213]]: and we have enjoined that they which wear them be cast out of the Church.’

37. ‘It is not right to receive from Jews or heretics the festive offerings which they send about, nor to join in their festivals.’

38. ‘It is not right to receive unleavened bread from the Jews or to participate in their impieties.’

It is strange, at this late date, to find still lingering in these churches the same readiness to be ‘judged in respect of an holiday or a new moon or a sabbath,’ with the same tendency to relinquish the hold of the Head and to substitute ‘a voluntary humility and worshipping of angels,’ which three centuries before had called forth the Apostle’s rebuke and warning in the Epistle to the Colossians.

Ecclesiastical status of Laodicea and Hierapolis.

During the flourishing period of the Eastern Church, Laodicea appears as the metropolis of the province of Phrygia Pacatiana, counting among its suffragan bishoprics the see of Colossæ[^[214]]. On the other hand Hierapolis, though only six miles distant, belonged to the neighbouring province of Phrygia Salutaris[^[215]], whose metropolis was Synnada, and of which it was one of the most important sees. The stream of the Lycus seems to have formed the boundary line between the two ecclesiastical provinces. At a later date Hierapolis itself was raised to metropolitan rank[^[216]].

Obscurity of Colossæ.

But while Laodicea and Hierapolis held the foremost place in the records of the early Church, and continued to bear an active, though inconspicuous part, in later Christian history, Colossæ was from the very first a cipher. The town itself, as we have seen, was already waning in importance, when the Apostle wrote; and its subsequent decline seems to have been rapid. Not a single event in Christian history is connected with its name; and its very existence is only rescued from oblivion, when at long intervals some bishop of Colossæ attaches his signature to the decree of an ecclesiastical synod. The city ceased to strike coins in the reign of Gordian (A.D. |It is supplanted by Chonæ.| 238–244)[^[217]]. It fell gradually into decay, being supplanted by the neighbouring town Chonæ, the modern Chonos, so called from the natural funnels by which the streams here disappear in underground channels formed by the incrustations of travertine[^[218]]. We may conjecture also that its ruin was hastened by a renewed assault of its ancient enemy, the earthquake[^[219]]. It is commonly said that Chonæ is built on the site of the ancient Colossæ; but the later town stands at some distance from the earlier, as Salisbury does from Old Sarum. The episcopal see necessarily followed the population; though for some time after its removal to the new town the bishop still continued to use the older title, with or without the addition of Chonæ by way of explanation, till at length the name of this primitive Apostolic Church passes wholly out of sight[^[220]].

Turkish conquest.

The Turkish conquest pressed with more than common severity on these districts. When the day of visitation came, the Church was taken by surprise. Occupied with ignoble quarrels and selfish interests, she had no ear for the voice of Him who demanded admission. The door was barred and the knock unheeded. The long-impending doom overtook her, and the golden candlestick was removed for ever from the Eternal Presence[^[221]].

II.
THE COLOSSIAN HERESY.

Two elements in the Colossian heresy.

From the language of St Paul, addressed to the Church of Colossæ, we may infer the presence of two disturbing elements which threatened the purity of Christian faith and practice in this community. These elements are distinguishable in themselves, though it does not follow that they present the teaching of two distinct parties.

1. Judaic.

1. A mere glance at the epistle suffices to detect the presence of Judaism in the teaching which the Apostle combats. The observance of sabbaths and new moons is decisive in this respect. The distinction of meats and drinks points in the same direction[^[222]]. Even the enforcement of the initiatory rite of Judaism may be inferred from the contrast implied in St Paul’s recommendation of the spiritual circumcision[^[223]].

2. Gnostic.

2. On the other hand a closer examination of its language shows that these Judaic features do not exhaust the portraiture of the heresy or heresies against which the epistle is directed. We discern an element of theosophic speculation, which is alien to the spirit of Judaism proper. We are confronted with a shadowy mysticism, which loses itself in the contemplation of the unseen world. We discover a tendency to interpose certain spiritual agencies, intermediate beings, between God and man, as the instruments of communication and the objects of worship[^[224]]. Anticipating the result which will appear more clearly hereafter, we may say that along with its Judaism there was a Gnostic element in the false teaching which prevailed at Colossæ.

Are these combined or separate?

Have we then two heresies here, or one only? Were these elements distinct, or were they fused into the same system? In other words, Is St Paul controverting a phase of Judaism on the one hand, and a phase of Gnosticism on the other; or did he find himself in conflict with a Judæo-Gnostic heresy which combined the two[^[225]]?

General reasons for supposing one heresy only, in which they are fused.

On closer examination we find ourselves compelled to adopt the latter alternative. The epistle itself contains no hint that the Apostle has more than one set of antagonists in view; and the needless multiplication of persons or events is always to be deprecated in historical criticism. Nor indeed does the hypothesis of a single complex heresy present any real difficulty. If the two elements seem irreconcileable, or at least incongruous, at first sight, the incongruity disappears on further examination. It will be shown in the course of this investigation, that some special tendencies of religious thought among the Jews themselves before and about this time prepared the way for such a combination in a Christian community like the Church of Colossæ[^[226]]. Moreover we shall find that the Christian heresies of the next succeeding ages exhibit in a more developed form the same complex type, which here appears in its nascent state[^[227]]; this later development not only showing that the combination was historically possible in itself, but likewise presupposing some earlier stage of its existence such as confronts us at Colossæ.

S. Paul’s language is decisive on this point.

But in fact the Apostle’s language hardly leaves the question open. The two elements are so closely interwoven in his refutation, that it is impossible to separate them. He passes backwards and forwards from the one to the other in such a way as to show that they are only parts of one complex whole. On this point the logical connexion of the sentences is decisive: ‘Beware lest any man make spoil of you through philosophy and vain deceit after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the world.... Ye were circumcised with a circumcision not made with hands.... And you ... did He quicken, ... blotting out the handwriting of ordinances which was against you.... Let no man therefore judge you in meat or drink, or in respect of a holy day or a new moon or a sabbath.... Let no man beguile you of your prize in a self-imposed humility and service of angels.... If ye died with Christ from the rudiments of the world, why ... are ye subject to ordinances ... which things have a show of wisdom in self-imposed service and humility and hard treatment of the body, but are of no value against indulgence of the flesh[^[228]].’ Here the superior wisdom, the speculative element which is characteristic of Gnosticism, and the ritual observance, the practical element which was supplied by Judaism, are regarded not only as springing from the same stem, but also as intertwined in their growth. And the more carefully we examine the sequence of the Apostle’s thoughts, the more intimate will the connexion appear.

Gnosticism must be defined and described.

Having described the speculative element in this complex heresy provisionally as Gnostic, I purpose enquiring in the first place, how far Judaism prior to and independently of Christianity had allied itself with Gnostic modes of thought; and afterwards, whether the description of the Colossian heresy is such as to justify us in thus classing it as a species of Gnosticism. But, as a preliminary to these enquiries, some definition of the word, or at least some conception of the leading ideas which it involves, will be necessary. With its complex varieties and elaborate developments we have no concern here: for, if Gnosticism can be found at all in the records of the Apostolic age, it will obviously appear in a simple and elementary form. Divested of its accessories and presented in its barest outline, it is not difficult of delineation[^[229]].

1. Intellectual exclusiveness of Gnosticism.

1. As the name attests[^[230]], Gnosticism implies the possession of a superior wisdom, which is hidden from others. It makes a distinction between the select few who have this higher gift, and the vulgar many who are without it. Faith, blind faith, suffices the latter, while knowledge is the exclusive possession of the former. Thus it recognises a separation of intellectual caste in religion, introducing the distinction of an esoteric and an exoteric doctrine, and interposing an initiation of some kind or other between the two classes. In short it is animated by the exclusive aristocratic spirit[^[231]], which distinguishes the ancient religions, and from which it was a main function of Christianity to deliver mankind.

Speculative tenets of Gnosticism.

2. This was its spirit; and the intellectual questions, on which its energies were concentrated and to which it professed to hold the key, were mainly twofold. How can the work of creation be explained? and, How are we to account for the existence of evil[^[232]]? To reconcile the creation of the world and |Creation of the world, and existence of evil.| the existence of evil with the conception of God as the absolute Being, was the problem which all the Gnostic systems set themselves to solve. It will be seen that the two questions cannot be treated independently but have a very close and intimate connexion with each other.

Existence of evil, how to be explained?

The Gnostic argument ran as follows: Did God create the world out of nothing, evolve it from Himself? Then, God being perfectly good and creation having resulted from His sole act without any opposing or modifying influence, evil would have been impossible; for otherwise we are driven to the conclusion that God created evil.

Matter the abode of evil.

This solution being rejected as impossible, the Gnostic was obliged to postulate some antagonistic principle independent of God, by which His creative energy was thwarted and limited. This opposing principle, the kingdom of evil, he conceived to be the world of matter. The precise idea of its mode of operation varies in different Gnostic systems. It is sometimes regarded as a dead passive resistance, sometimes as a turbulent active power. But, though the exact point of view may shift, the object contemplated is always the same. In some way or other evil is regarded as residing in the material, sensible world. Thus Gnostic speculation on the existence of evil ends in a dualism.

Creation, how to be explained?

This point being conceded, the ulterior question arises: How then is creation possible? How can the Infinite communicate with the Finite, the Good with the Evil? How can God act upon matter? God is perfect, absolute, incomprehensible.

This, the Gnostic went on to argue, could only have been possible by some self-limitation on the part of God. God must express Himself in some way. There must be some evolution, some effluence, of Deity. |Doctrine of emanations.| Thus the Divine Being germinates, as it were; and the first germination again evolves a second from itself in like manner. In this way we obtain a series of successive emanations, which may be more or fewer, as the requirements of any particular system demand. In each successive evolution the Divine element is feebler. They sink gradually lower and lower in the scale, as they are farther removed from their source; until at length contact with matter is possible, and creation ensues. These are the emanations, æons, spirits, or angels, of Gnosticism, conceived as more or less concrete and personal according to the different aspects in which they are regarded in different systems.

3. Practical errors of Gnosticism.

3. Such is the bare outline (and nothing more is needed for my immediate purpose) of the speculative views of Gnosticism. But it is obvious that these views must have exerted a powerful influence on the ethical systems of their advocates, and thus they would involve important practical consequences. If matter is the principle of evil, it is of infinite moment for a man to know how he can avoid its baneful influence and thus keep his higher nature unclogged and unsullied.

Two opposite ethical rules.

To this practical question two directly opposite answers were given[^[233]]:

(i) Rigid asceticism.

(i) On the one hand, it was contended that the desired end might best be attained by a rigorous abstinence. Thus communication with matter, if it could not be entirely avoided, might be reduced to a minimum. Its grosser defilements at all events would be escaped. The material part of man would be subdued and mortified, if it could not be annihilated; and the spirit, thus set free, would be sublimated, and rise to its proper level. Thus the ethics of Gnosticism pointed in the first instance to a strict asceticism.

(ii) Unrestrained license.

(ii) But obviously the results thus attained are very slight and inadequate. Matter is about us everywhere. We do but touch the skirts of the evil, when we endeavour to fence ourselves about by prohibitive ordinances, as for instance, when we enjoin a spare diet or forbid marriage. Some more comprehensive rule is wanted, which shall apply to every contingency and every moment of our lives. Arguing in this way, other Gnostic teachers arrived at an ethical rule directly opposed to the former. ‘Cultivate an entire indifference,’ they said, ‘to the world of sense. Do not give it a thought one way or the other, but follow your own impulses. The ascetic principle assigns a certain importance to matter. The ascetic fails in consequence to assert his own independence. The true rule of life is to treat matter as something alien to you, towards which you have no duties or obligations and which you can use or leave unused as you like[^[234]].’ In this way the reaction from rigid asceticism led to the opposite extreme of unrestrained licentiousness, both alike springing from the same false conception of matter as the principle of evil.

Original independence of Gnosticism and its subsequent connexion with Christianity.

Gnosticism, as defined by these characteristic features, has obviously no necessary connexion with Christianity[^[235]]. Christianity would naturally arouse it to unwonted activity, by leading men to dwell more earnestly on the nature and power of evil, and thus stimulating more systematic thought on the theological questions which had already arrested attention. After no long time Gnosticism would absorb into its system more or fewer Christian elements, or Christianity in some of its forms would receive a tinge from Gnosticism. But the thing itself had an independent root, and seems to have been prior in time. The probabilities of the case, and the scanty traditions of history, alike point to this independence of the two[^[236]]. If so, it is a matter of little moment at what precise time the name ‘Gnostic’ was adopted, whether before or after contact with Christianity; for we are concerned only with the growth and direction of thought which the name represents[^[237]].

---

Its alliance with Judaism before Christianity.

If then Gnosticism was not an offspring of Christianity, but a direction of religious speculation which existed independently, we are at liberty to entertain the question whether it did not form an alliance with Judaism, contemporaneously with or prior to its alliance with Christianity. There is at least no obstacle which bars such an investigation at the outset. If this should prove to be the case, then we have a combination which prepares the way for the otherwise strange phenomena presented in the Epistle to the Colossians.

The three sects of the Jews.

Those, who have sought analogies to the three Jewish sects among the philosophical schools of Greece and Rome, have compared the Sadducees to the Epicureans, the Pharisees to the Stoics, and the Essenes to the Pythagoreans. Like all historical parallels, this comparison is open to misapprehension: but, carefully guarded, the illustration is pertinent and instructive.

Sadduceeism, purely negative.

With the Sadducees we have no concern here. Whatever respect may be due to their attitude in the earlier stages of their history, at the Christian era at least they have ceased to deserve our sympathy; for their position has become mainly negative. They take their stand on denials—the denial of the existence of angels, the denial of the resurrection of the dead, the denial of a progressive development in the Jewish Church. In these negative tendencies, in the materialistic teaching of the sect, and in the moral consequences to which it led, a very rough resemblance to the Epicureans will appear[^[238]].

Phariseeism and Essenism compared.

The two positive sects were the Pharisees and the Essenes. Both alike were strict observers of the ritual law; but, while the Pharisee was essentially practical, the tendency of the Essene was to mysticism; while the Pharisee was a man of the world, the Essene was a member of a brotherhood. In this respect the Stoic and the Pythagorean were the nearest counterparts which the history of Greek philosophy and social life could offer. These analogies indeed are suggested by Josephus himself[^[239]].

Elusive features of Essenism.

While the portrait of the Pharisee is distinctly traced and easily recognised, this is not the case with the Essene. The Essene is the great enigma of Hebrew history. Admired alike by Jew, by Heathen, and by Christian, he yet remains a dim vague outline, on which the highest subtlety of successive critics has been employed to supply a substantial form and an adequate colouring. An ascetic mystical dreamy recluse, he seems too far removed from the hard experience of life to be capable of realisation.

A sufficiently distinct portrait of the sect attainable.

And yet by careful use of the existing materials the portrait of this sect may be so far restored, as to establish with a reasonable amount of probability the point with which alone we are here concerned. It will appear from the delineations of ancient writers, more especially of Philo and Josephus, that the characteristic feature of Essenism was a particular direction of mystic speculation, involving a rigid asceticism as its practical consequence. Following the definition of Gnosticism which has been already given, we may not unfitly call this tendency Gnostic.

Main features of Essenism.

Having anticipated the results in this statement, I shall now endeavour to develope the main features of Essenism; and, while doing so, I will ask my readers to bear in mind the portrait of the Colossian heresy in St Paul, and to mark the resemblances, as the enquiry proceeds[^[240]].

The Judaic element is especially prominent in the life and teaching of the sect. The Essene was exceptionally rigorous in his observance of the Mosaic ritual. In his strict abstinence |Observance of the Mosaic law.| from work on the sabbath he far surpassed all the other Jews. He would not light a fire, would not move a vessel, would not perform even the most ordinary functions of life[^[241]]. The whole day was given up to religious exercises and to exposition of the Scriptures[^[242]]. His respect for the law extended also to the law-giver. After God, the name of Moses was held in the highest reverence. He who blasphemed his name was punished with death[^[243]]. In all these points the Essene was an exaggeration, almost a caricature, of the Pharisee.

External elements superadded.

So far the Essene has not departed from the principles of normal Judaism; but here the divergence begins. In three main points we trace the working of influences, which must have been derived from external sources.

1. Rigid asceticism, in respect to

1. To the legalism of the Pharisee, the Essene added an asceticism, which was peculiarly his own, and which in many respects contradicted the tenets of the other sect. The honourable, and even exaggerated, estimate of marriage, which was characteristic of the Jew, and of the Pharisee as the typical Jew, found no favour with the Essene[^[244]]. |marriage,|Marriage was to him an abomination. Those Essenes who lived together as members of an order, and in whom the principles of the sect were carried to their logical consequences, eschewed it altogether. To secure the continuance of their brotherhood they adopted children, whom they brought up in the doctrines and practices of the community. There were others however who took a different view. They accepted marriage, as necessary for the preservation of the race. Yet even with them it seems to have been regarded only as an inevitable evil. They fenced it off by stringent rules, demanding a three years’ probation and enjoining various purificatory rites[^[245]]. The conception of marriage, as quickening and educating the affections and thus exalting and refining human life, was wholly foreign to their minds. Woman was a mere instrument of temptation in their eyes, deceitful, faithless, selfish, jealous, misled and misleading by her passions.

meats and drinks,

But their ascetic tendencies did not stop here. The Pharisee was very careful to observe the distinction of meats lawful and unlawful, as laid down by the Mosaic code, and even rendered these ordinances vexatious by minute definitions of his own. But the Essene went far beyond him. He drank no wine, he did not touch animal food. His meal consisted of a piece of bread and a single mess of vegetables. Even this simple fare was prepared for him by special officers consecrated for the purpose, that it might be free from all contamination[^[246]]. Nay, so stringent were the rules of the order on this point, that when an Essene was excommunicated, he often died of starvation, being bound by his oath not to take food prepared by defiled hands, and thus being reduced to eat the very grass of the field[^[247]].

and oil for anointing.

Again, in hot climates oil for anointing the body is almost a necessary of life. From this too the Essenes strictly abstained. Even if they were accidentally smeared, they were careful at once to wash themselves, holding the mere touch to be a contamination[^[248]].

Underlying principle of this asceticism.

From these facts it seems clear that Essene abstinence was something more than the mere exaggeration of Pharisaic principles. The rigour of the Pharisee was based on his obligation of obedience to an absolute external law. The Essene introduced a new principle. He condemned in any form the gratification of the natural cravings, nor would he consent to regard it as moral or immoral only according to the motive which suggested it or the consequences which flowed from it. It was in itself an absolute evil. He sought to disengage himself, as far as possible, from the conditions of physical life. In short, in the asceticism of the Essene we seem to see the germ of that Gnostic dualism which regards matter as the principle, or at least the abode, of evil.

2. Speculative tenets.

2. And, when we come to investigate the speculative tenets of the sect, we shall find that the Essenes have diverged appreciably from the common type of Jewish orthodoxy.

(i) Tendency to sun-worship.

(i) Attention was directed above to their respect for Moses and the Mosaic law, which they shared in common with the Pharisee. But there was another side to their theological teaching. Though our information is somewhat defective, still in the scanty notices which are preserved we find sufficient indications that they had absorbed some foreign elements of religious thought into their system. Thus at day-break they addressed certain prayers, which had been handed down from their forefathers, to the Sun, ‘as if entreating him to rise[^[249]].’ They were careful also to conceal and bury all polluting substances, so as not ‘to insult the rays of the god[^[250]].’ We cannot indeed suppose that they regarded the sun as more than a symbol of the unseen power who gives light and life; but their outward demonstrations of reverence were sufficiently prominent to attach to them, or to a sect derived from them, the epithet of ‘Sun-worshippers[^[251]],’ and some connexion with the characteristic feature of Parsee devotion at once suggests itself. The practice at all events stands in strong contrast to the denunciations of worship paid to the ‘hosts of heaven’ in the Hebrew prophets.

(ii) Resurrection of the body denied.

(ii) Nor again is it an insignificant fact that, while the Pharisee maintained the resurrection of the body as a cardinal article of his faith, the Essene restricted himself to a belief in the immortality of the soul. The soul, he maintained, was confined in the flesh, as in a prison-house. Only when disengaged from these fetters would it be truly free. Then it would soar aloft, rejoicing in its newly attained liberty[^[252]]. This doctrine accords with the fundamental conception of the malignity of matter. To those who held this conception a resurrection of the body would be repulsive, as involving a perpetuation of evil.

(iii) Prohibition of sacrifices.

(iii) But they also separated themselves from the religious belief of the orthodox Jew in another respect, which would provoke more notice. While they sent gifts to the temple at Jerusalem, they refused to offer sacrifices there[^[253]]. It would appear that the slaughter of animals was altogether forbidden by their creed[^[254]]. It is certain that they were afraid of contracting some ceremonial impurity by offering victims in the temple. Meanwhile they had sacrifices, bloodless sacrifices, of their own. They regarded their simple meals with their accompanying prayers and thanksgiving, not only as devotional but even as sacrificial rites. Those who prepared and presided over these meals were their consecrated priests[^[255]].

(iv) Esoteric doctrine of angels.

(iv) In what other respects they may have departed from, or added to, the normal creed of Judaism, we do not know. But it is expressly stated that, when a novice after passing through the probationary stages was admitted to the full privileges of the order, the oath of admission bound him ‘to conceal nothing from the members of the sect, and to report nothing concerning them to others, even though threatened with death; not to communicate any of their doctrines to anyone otherwise than as he himself had received them; but to abstain from robbery, and in like manner to guard carefully the books of their sect, and the names of the angels[^[256]].’ It may be reasonably supposed that more lurks under this last expression than meets the ear. This esoteric doctrine, relating to angelic beings, may have been another link which attached Essenism to the religion of Zoroaster[^[257]]. At all events we seem to be justified in connecting it with the self-imposed service and worshipping of angels at Colossæ: and we may well suspect that we have here a germ which was developed into the Gnostic doctrine of æons or emanations.

(v) Speculations on God and Creation.

(v) If so, it is not unconnected with another notice relating to Essene peculiarities. The Gnostic doctrine of intermediate beings between God and the world, as we have seen, was intimately connected with speculations respecting creation. Now we are specially informed that the Essenes, while leaving physical studies in general to speculative idlers (μετεωρολέσχαις), as being beyond the reach of human nature, yet excepted from their general condemnation that philosophy which treats of the existence of God and the generation of the universe[^[258]].

(vi) Magical charms.

(vi) Mention has been made incidentally of certain secret books peculiar to the sect. The existence of such an apocryphal literature was a sure token of some abnormal development in doctrine[^[259]]. In the passage quoted it is mentioned in relation to some form of angelology. Elsewhere their skill in prediction, for which they were especially famous, is connected with the perusal of certain ‘sacred books,’ which however are not described[^[260]]. But more especially, we are told that the Essenes studied with extraordinary diligence the writings of the ancients, selecting those especially which could be turned to profit for soul and body, and that from these they learnt the qualities of roots and the properties of stones[^[261]]. This expression, as illustrated by other notices, points clearly to the study of occult sciences, and recalls the alliance with the practice of magical arts, which was a distinguishing feature of Gnosticism, and is condemned by Christian teachers even in the heresies of the Apostolic age.

3. Exclusive spirit of Essenism.

3. But the notice to which I have just alluded suggests a broader affinity with Gnosticism. Not only did the theological speculations of the Essenes take a Gnostic turn, but they guarded their peculiar tenets with Gnostic reserve. They too had their esoteric doctrine which they looked upon as the exclusive possession of the privileged few; their ‘mysteries’ which it was a grievous offence to communicate to the uninitiated. This doctrine was contained, as we have seen, in an apocryphal literature. Their whole organisation was arranged so as to prevent the divulgence of its secrets to those without. The long period of noviciate, the careful rites of initiation, the distinction of the several orders[^[262]] in the community, the solemn oaths by which they bound their members, were so many safeguards against a betrayal of this precious deposit, which they held to be restricted to the inmost circle of the brotherhood.

The three notes of Gnosticism found in the Essenes.

In selecting these details I have not attempted to give a finished portrait of Essenism. From this point of view the delineation would be imperfect and misleading: for I have left out of sight the nobler features of the sect, their courageous endurance, their simple piety, their brotherly love. My object was solely to call attention to those features which distinguish it from the normal type of Judaism, and seem to justify the attribution of Gnostic influences. And here it has been seen that the three characteristics, which were singled out above as distinctive of Gnosticism, reappear in the Essenes; though it has been convenient to consider them in the reversed order. This Jewish sect exhibits the same exclusiveness in the communication of its doctrines. Its theological speculations take the same direction, dwelling on the mysteries of creation, regarding matter as the abode of evil, and postulating certain intermediate spiritual agencies as necessary links of communication between heaven and earth. And lastly, its speculative opinions involve the same ethical conclusions, and lead in like manner to a rigid asceticism. If the notices relating to these points do not always explain themselves, yet read in the light of the heresies of the Apostolic age and in that of subsequent Judæo-Gnostic Christianity, their bearing seems to be distinct enough; so that we should not be far wrong, if we were to designate Essenism as Gnostic Judaism[^[263]].

How widely were the Essenes dispersed?

But the Essenes of whom historical notices are preserved were inhabitants of the Holy Land. Their monasteries were situated on the shores of the Dead Sea. We are told indeed, that the sect was not confined to any one place, and that members of the order were found in great numbers in divers cities and villages[^[264]]. But Judæa in one notice, Palestine and Syria in another, are especially named as the localities of the Essene settlements[^[265]]. Have we any reason to suppose that they were represented among the Jews of the Dispersion? In Egypt indeed we find ourselves confronted with a similar ascetic sect, the Therapeutes, who may perhaps have had an independent origin, but who nevertheless exhibit substantially the same type of Jewish thought and practice[^[266]]. But the Dispersion of Egypt, it may be argued, was exceptional; and we might expect to find here organisations and developments of Judaism hardly less marked and various than in the mother country. |Do they appear in Asia Minor?| What ground have we for assuming the existence of this type in Asia Minor? Do we meet with any traces of it in the cities of the Lycus, or in proconsular Asia generally, which would justify the opinion that it might make its influence felt in the Christian communities of that district?

How the term Essene is to be understood.

Now it has been shown that the colonies of the Jews in this neighbourhood were populous and influential[^[267]]; and it might be argued with great probability that among these large numbers Essene Judaism could not be unrepresented. But indeed throughout this investigation, when I speak of the Judaism in the Colossian Church as Essene, I do not assume a precise identity of origin, but only an essential affinity of type, with the Essenes of the mother country. As a matter of history, it may or may not have sprung from the colonies on the shores of the Dead Sea; but as this can neither be proved nor disproved, so also it is immaterial to my main |Probabilities of the case.| purpose. All along its frontier, wherever Judaism became enamoured of and was wedded to Oriental mysticism, the same union would produce substantially the same results. In a country where Phrygia, Persia, Syria, all in turn had moulded religious thought, it would be strange indeed if Judaism entirely escaped these influences. Nor, as a matter of fact, are indications wanting to show that it was not unaffected |Direct indications.| by them. If the traces are few, they are at least as numerous and as clear as with our defective information on the whole subject we have any right to expect in this particular instance.

St Paul at Ephesus A.D. 54–57.

When St Paul visits Ephesus, he comes in contact with certain strolling Jews, exorcists, who attempt to cast out evil spirits[^[268]]. Connecting this fact with the notices of Josephus, from which we infer that exorcisms of this kind were especially |Exorcisms and| practised by the Essenes[^[269]], we seem to have an indication of their presence in the capital of proconsular Asia. If so, it is a significant fact that in their exorcisms they employed the name of our Lord: for then we must regard this as the earliest notice of those overtures of alliance on the part of Essenism, which involved such important consequences in the subsequent history of the Church[^[270]]. It is also worth observing, that the next incident in St Luke’s narrative is the burning |magical books.| of their magical books by those whom St Paul converted on this occasion[^[271]]. As Jews are especially mentioned among these converts, and as books of charms are ascribed to the Essenes by Josephus, the two incidents, standing in this close connexion, throw great light on the type of Judaism which thus appears at Ephesus[^[272]].

Sibylline Oracle A.D. 80.

Somewhat later we have another notice which bears in the same direction. The Sibylline Oracle, which forms the fourth book in the existing collection, is discovered by internal evidence to have been written about A.D. 80[^[273]]. It is plainly a product of Judaism, but its Judaism does not belong to the normal Pharisaic type. With Essenism it rejects sacrifices, even regarding the shedding of blood as a pollution[^[274]], and with Essenism also it inculcates the duty of frequent washings[^[275]]. Yet from other indications we are led to the conclusion, that this poem was not written in the interests of Essenism properly so called, but represents some allied though independent development of Judaism. In some respects at all events its language seems quite inconsistent with the purer type of Essenism[^[276]]. But its general tendency is clear: and of its locality there can hardly be a doubt. The affairs of Asia Minor occupy a disproportionate space in the poet’s description of the past and vision of the future. The cities of the Mæander and its neighbourhood, among these Laodicea, are mentioned with emphasis[^[277]].

Phrygia and Asia congenial to this type of religion.

And certainly the moral and intellectual atmosphere would not be unfavourable to the growth of such a plant. The same district, which in speculative philosophy had produced a Thales and a Heraclitus[^[278]], had developed in popular religion the worship of the Phrygian Cybele and Sabazius and of the Ephesian Artemis[^[279]]. Cosmological speculation, mystic theosophy, religious fanaticism, all had their home here. Associated with Judaism or with Christianity the natural temperament and the intellectual bias of the people would take a new direction; but the old type would not be altogether obliterated. Phrygia reared the hybrid monstrosities of Ophitism[^[280]]. She was the mother of Montanist enthusiasm[^[281]], and the foster-mother of Novatian rigorism[^[282]]. The syncretist, the mystic, the devotee, the puritan, would find a congenial climate in these regions of Asia Minor.

---

Previous results summed up.

It has thus been shown first, that Essene Judaism was Gnostic in its character; and secondly, that this type of Jewish thought and practice had established itself in the Apostolic age in those parts of Asia Minor with which we are more directly concerned. It now remains to examine the heresy of the |Is the Colossian heresy Gnostic?| Colossian Church more nearly, and to see whether it deserves the name, which provisionally was given to it, of Gnostic Judaism. Its Judaism all will allow. Its claim to be regarded as Gnostic will require a closer scrutiny. And in conducting |Three notes of Gnosticism.| this examination, it will be convenient to take the three notes of Gnosticism which have been already laid down, and to enquire how far it satisfies these tests.

1. Intellectual exclusiveness.

1. It has been pointed out that Gnosticism strove to establish, or rather to preserve, an intellectual oligarchy in religion. It had its hidden wisdom, its exclusive mysteries, its privileged class.

Now I think it will be evident, that St Paul in this epistle |St Paul contends for the universality of the Gospel,| feels himself challenged to contend for the universality of the Gospel. This indeed is a characteristic feature of the Apostle’s teaching at all times, and holds an equally prominent place in the epistles of an earlier date. But the point to be observed is, that the Apostle, in maintaining this doctrine, has changed the mode of his defence; and this fact suggests that there has been a change in the direction of the attack. It is no longer against national exclusiveness, but against intellectual exclusiveness, that he contends. His adversaries do not now plead ceremonial restrictions, or at least do not plead these alone: but they erect an artificial barrier of spiritual privilege, even more fatal to the universal claims of the Gospel, because more specious and more insidious. It is not now against Jew as such, but against the Jew become Gnostic, that he fights the battle of liberty. In other words; it is not against Christian Pharisaism but against Christian Essenism that he defends his position. Only in the light of such an antagonism can we understand the emphatic iteration with which he claims to ‘warn every man and teach every man in every wisdom, that he may present |against the pretentions of an aristocracy of intellect.| every man perfect in Christ Jesus[^[283]].’ It will be remembered that ‘wisdom’ in Gnostic teaching was the exclusive possession of the few; it will not be forgotten that ‘perfection’ was the term especially applied in their language to this privileged minority, as contradistinguished from the common herd of believers; and thus it will be readily understood why St Paul should go on to say that this universality of the Gospel is the one object of his contention, to which all the energies of his life are directed, and having done so, should express his intense anxiety for the Churches of Colossæ and the neighbourhood, lest they should be led astray by a spurious wisdom to desert the true knowledge[^[284]]. This danger also will enable us to appreciate a novel feature in another passage of the epistle. While dwelling on the obliteration of all distinctions in Christ, he repeats his earlier contrasts, ‘Greek and Jew,’ ‘circumcision and uncircumcision,’ ‘bondslave and free’; but to these he adds new words which at once give a wider scope and a more immediate application to the lesson. In Christ the existence of ‘barbarian’ and even ‘Scythian,’ the lowest type of barbarian, is extinguished[^[285]]. As culture, civilisation, philosophy, knowledge, are no conditions of acceptance, so neither is their absence any disqualification in the believer. The aristocracy of intellectual discernment, which Gnosticism upheld in religion, is abhorrent to the first principles of the Gospel.

He contrasts the true wisdom with the false,

Hence also must be explained the frequent occurrence of the words ‘wisdom’ (σοφία), ‘intelligence’ (σύνεσις), ‘knowledge’ (γνῶσις), ‘perfect knowledge’ (ἐπίγνωσις), in this epistle[^[286]]. St Paul takes up the language of his opponents, and translates it into a higher sphere. The false teachers put forward a ‘philosophy,’ but it was only an empty deceit, only a plausible display of false-reasoning[^[287]]. They pretended ‘wisdom,’ but it was merely the profession, not the reality[^[288]]. Against these pretentions the Apostle sets the true wisdom of the Gospel. On its wealth, its fulness, its perfection, he is never tired of dwelling[^[289]]. The true wisdom, he would argue, is essentially spiritual and yet essentially definite; while the false is argumentative, is speculative, |and dwells on the veritable mystery.| is vague and dreamy[^[290]]. Again they had their rites of initiation. St Paul contrasts with these the one universal, comprehensive mystery[^[291]], the knowledge of God in Christ. This mystery is complete in itself: it contains ‘all the treasures of wisdom and of knowledge hidden’ in it[^[292]]. Moreover it is offered to all without distinction: though once hidden, its revelation is unrestricted, except by the waywardness and disobedience of men. The esoteric spirit of Gnosticism finds no countenance in the Apostle’s teaching.

2. Speculative tenets.
Cosmogony and theology.

2. From the informing spirit of Gnosticism we turn to the speculative tenets—the cosmogony and the theology of the Gnostic.

And here too the affinities to Gnosticism reveal themselves in the Colossian heresy. We cannot fail to observe that the |St Paul attacks the doctrine of angelic mediators,| Apostle has in view the doctrine of intermediate agencies, regarded as instruments in the creation and government of the world. Though this tenet is not distinctly mentioned, it is tacitly assumed in the teaching which St Paul opposes to it. Against the philosophy of successive evolutions from the Divine nature, angelic mediators forming the successive links in the chain which binds the finite to the Infinite, he sets the doctrine |setting against it the doctrine of the Word Incarnate,| of the one Eternal Son, the Word of God begotten before the worlds[^[293]]. The angelology of the heretics had a twofold bearing; it was intimately connected at once with cosmogony and with religion. Correspondingly St Paul represents the mediatorial function of Christ as twofold: it is exercised in the natural creation, and it is exercised in the spiritual creation. In both these spheres His initiative is absolute, His control is universal, His action is complete. By His agency the world of matter was created and is sustained. He is at once the beginning and the |as the reconciler of heaven and earth.| end of the material universe; ‘All things have been created through Him and unto Him.’ Nor is His office in the spiritual world less complete. In the Church, as in the Universe, He is sole, absolute, supreme; the primary source from which all life proceeds and the ultimate arbiter in whom all feuds are reconciled.

His relations to (1) Deity; as God manifested.

On the one hand, in relation to Deity, He is the visible image of the invisible God. He is not only the chief manifestation of the Divine nature: He exhausts the Godhead manifested. In Him resides the totality of the Divine powers and attributes. For this totality Gnostic teachers had a technical |The pleroma resides in Him.| term, the pleroma or plenitude[^[294]]. From the pleroma they supposed that all those agencies issued, through which God has at any time exerted His power in creation, or manifested His will through revelation. These mediatorial beings would retain more or less of its influence, according as they claimed direct parentage from it or traced their descent through successive evolutions. But in all cases this pleroma was distributed, diluted, transformed and darkened by foreign admixture. They were only partial and blurred images, often deceptive caricatures, of their original, broken lights of the great central Light. It is not improbable that, like later speculators of the same school, they found a place somewhere or other in their genealogy of spiritual beings for the Christ. If so, St Paul’s language becomes doubly significant. But this hypothesis is not needed to explain its reference. In contrast to their doctrine, he asserts and repeats the assertion, that the pleroma abides absolutely and wholly in Christ as the Word of God[^[295]]. The entire light is concentrated in Him.

(2) Created things; as absolute Lord.

Hence it follows that, as regards created things, His supremacy must be absolute. In heaven as in earth, over things immaterial as over things material, He is king. Speculations on the nature of intermediate spiritual agencies—their names, their ranks, their offices—were rife in the schools of Judæo-Gnostic thought. ‘Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers’–these formed part of the spiritual nomenclature which they had invented to describe different grades of angelic mediators. Without entering into these speculations, the Apostle asserts that Christ is Lord of all, the highest and the lowest, whatever rank they may hold and by whatever name they are called[^[296]], for they are parts of creation and He is the source of creation. Through Him they became, and unto Him they tend.

Angelolatry is therefore condemned

Hence the worship of angels, which the false teachers inculcated, was utterly wrong in principle. The motive of this angelolatry it is not difficult to imagine. There was a show of humility[^[297]], for there was a confession of weakness, in this subservience to inferior mediatorial agencies. It was held feasible to grasp at the lower links of the chain which bound earth to heaven, when heaven itself seemed far beyond the reach of man. The successive grades of intermediate beings were as successive steps, by which man might mount the ladder leading up to the throne of God. This carefully woven web of sophistry the Apostle tears to shreds. The doctrine of the false teachers was based on confident assumptions respecting angelic beings of whom they could know nothing. It was moreover a denial of Christ’s twofold personality and His |as a denial of His perfect mediation.| mediatorial office. It follows from the true conception of Christ’s Person, that He and He alone can bridge over the chasm between earth and heaven; for He is at once the lowest and the highest. He raises up man to God, for He brings down God to man. Thus the chain is reduced to a single link, this link being the Word made flesh. As the pleroma resides in Him, so is it communicated to us through Him[^[298]]. To substitute allegiance to any other spiritual mediator is to sever the connexion of the limbs with the Head, which is the centre of life and the mainspring of all energy throughout the body[^[300]].

The Apostle’s practical inference.

Hence follows the practical conclusion, that, whatever is done, must be done in the name of the Lord[^[301]]. Wives must submit to their husbands ‘in the Lord’: children must obey their parents ‘in the Lord’: servants must work for the masters as working ‘unto the Lord[^[302]].’ This iteration, ‘in the Lord,’ ‘unto the Lord,’ is not an irrelevant form of words; but arises as an immediate inference from the main idea which underlies the doctrinal portion of the epistle.

3. Moral results of Gnostic doctrine.

3. It has been shown that the speculative tenets of Gnosticism might lead (and as a matter of fact we know that they did lead) to either of two practical extremes, to rigid asceticism or to unbridled license. The latter alternative appears to some extent in the heresy of the Pastoral Epistles[^[303]], and still more plainly in those of the Catholic Epistles[^[304]] and the Apocalypse[^[305]]. It is constantly urged by Catholic writers as a reproach against later Gnostic sects[^[306]].

Asceticism of the Colossian heresy

But the former and nobler extreme was the first impulse of the Gnostic. To escape from the infection of evil by escaping from the domination of matter was his chief anxiety. This appears very plainly in the Colossian heresy. Though the prohibitions to which the Apostle alludes might be explained in part by the ordinances of the Mosaic ritual, this explanation will not cover all the facts. Thus for instance drinks are mentioned as well as meats[^[307]], though on the former the law of Moses is silent. Thus again the rigorous denunciation, ‘Touch not, taste not, handle not[^[308]],’ seems to go very far beyond the Levitical enactments. And moreover the motive of these prohibitions |not explained by its Judaism.| is Essene rather than Pharisaic, Gnostic rather than Jewish. These severities of discipline were intended ‘to check indulgence of the flesh[^[309]].’ They professed to treat the body with entire disregard, to ignore its cravings and to deny its wants. In short; they betray a strong ascetic tendency[^[310]], of which normal Judaism, as represented by the Pharisee, offers no explanation.

St Paul’s reply shows its Gnostic bearing.

And St Paul’s answer points to the same inference. The difference will appear more plainly, if we compare it with his treatment of Pharisaic Judaism in the Galatian Church. This epistle offers nothing at all corresponding to his language on that occasion; ‘If righteousness be by law, then Christ died in vain’; ‘If ye be circumcised, Christ shall profit you nothing’; ‘Christ is nullified for you, whosoever are justified by law; ye are fallen from grace[^[311]].’ The point of view in fact is wholly changed. With these Essene or Gnostic Judaizers the Mosaic law was neither the motive nor the standard, it was only the starting point, of their austerities. Hence in replying the |It is no longer the contrast of law and grace.| Apostle no longer deals with law, as law; he no longer points the contrast of grace and works; but he enters upon the moral aspects of these ascetic practices. He denounces them, as concentrating the thoughts on earthly and perishable things[^[312]]. He points out that they fail in their purpose, and are found valueless against carnal indulgences[^[313]]. In their place he offers the true and only remedy against sin—the elevation of the inner life in Christ, the transference of the affections into a higher sphere[^[314]], where the temptations of the flesh are powerless. Thus dying with Christ, they will kill all their earthly members[^[315]]. Thus rising with Christ, they will be renewed in the image of God their Creator[^[316]].

The truth of the above result tested by

In attempting to draw a complete portrait of the Colossian heresy from a few features accidentally exhibited in St Paul’s epistle, it has been necessary to supply certain links; and some assurance may not unreasonably be required that this has not been done arbitrarily. Nor is this security wanting. In all such cases the test will be twofold. The result must be consistent with itself: and it must do no violence to the historical conditions under which the phenomena arose.

(1) Its inherent consistency and symmetry.

1. In the present instance the former of these tests is fully satisfied. The consistency and the symmetry of the result is its great recommendation. The postulate of a Gnostic type brings the separate parts of the representation into direct connexion. The speculative opinions and the practical tendencies of the heresy thus explain, and are explained by, each other. It is analogous to the hypothesis of the comparative anatomist, who by referring the fossil remains to their proper type restores the whole skeleton of some unknown animal from a few bones belonging to different extremities of the body, and without the intermediate and connecting parts. In the one case, as in the other, the result is the justification of the postulate.

(2) Its place in a historical sequence.

2. And again; the historical conditions of the problem are carefully observed. It has been shown already, that Judaism in the preceding age had in one of its developments assumed a form which was the natural precursor of the Colossian heresy. In order to complete the argument it will be necessary to show that Christianity in the generation next succeeding exhibited a perverted type, which was its natural outgrowth. If this can be done, the Colossian heresy will take its proper place in a regular historical sequence.

---

Continuance of this type of Judæo-Gnosticism in the district.

I have already pointed out, that the language of St John in the Apocalypse, which was probably written within a few years of this epistle, seems to imply the continuance in this district of the same type of heresy which is here denounced by St Paul[^[317]]. But the notices in this book are not more definite than those of the Epistle to the Colossians itself; and we are led to look outside the Canonical writings for some more explicit evidence. Has early Christian history then preserved any record of a distinctly Gnostic school existing on the confines of the Apostolic age, which may be considered a legitimate development of the phase of religious speculation that confronts us here?

Heresy of Cerinthus.

|His date and place.|

We find exactly the phenomenon which we are seeking in the heresy of Cerinthus[^[318]]. The time, the place, the circumstances, all agree. This heresiarch is said to have been originally a native of Alexandria[^[319]]; but proconsular Asia is allowed on all hands to have been the scene of his activity as a teacher[^[320]]. He lived and taught at the close of the Apostolic age, that is, in the latest decade of the first century. Some writers indeed make him an antagonist of St Peter and St Paul[^[321]], but their authority is not trustworthy, nor is this very early date at all probable. But there can be no reasonable doubt that he was a contemporary of St John, who was related by Polycarp to have denounced him face to face on one memorable occasion[^[322]], and is moreover said by Irenæus to have written his Gospel with the direct object of confuting his errors[^[323]].

Cerinthus a link between Judaism and Gnosticism.

‘Cerinthus,’ writes Neander, ‘is best entitled to be considered as the intermediate link between the Judaizing and the Gnostic sects.’ ‘Even among the ancients,’ he adds, ‘opposite reports respecting his doctrines have been given from opposite points of view, according as the Gnostic or the Judaizing element was exclusively insisted upon: and the dispute on this point has been kept up even to modern times. In point of chronology too Cerinthus may be regarded as representing the principle in its transition from Judaism to Gnosticism[^[324]].’

Judaism still prominent in his system

Of his Judaism no doubt has been or can be entertained. The gross Chiliastic doctrine ascribed to him[^[325]], even though it may have been exaggerated in the representations of adverse writers, can only be explained by a Jewish origin. His conception of the Person of Christ was Ebionite, that is Judaic, in its main features[^[326]]. He is said moreover to have enforced the rite of circumcision and to have inculcated the observance of sabbaths[^[327]]. It is related also that the Cerinthians, like the Ebionites, accepted the Gospel of St Matthew alone[^[328]].’

though Gnosticism is already aggressive.

At the same time, it is said by an ancient writer that his adherence to Judaism was only partial[^[329]]. This limitation is doubtless correct. As Gnostic principles asserted themselves more distinctly, pure Judaism necessarily suffered. All or nearly all the early Gnostic heresies were Judaic; and for a time a compromise was effected which involved more or less concession on either side. But the ultimate incompatibility of the two at length became evident, and a precarious alliance was exchanged for an open antagonism. This final result however was not reached till the middle of the second century: and meanwhile it was a question to what extent Judaism was prepared to make concessions for the sake of this new ally. Even the Jewish Essenes, as we have seen, departed from the orthodox position in the matter of sacrifices; and if we possessed fuller information, we should probably find that they made still larger concessions than this. Of the Colossian heretics we can only form a conjecture, but the angelology and angelolatry attributed to them point to a further step in the same direction. As we pass from them to Cerinthus we are |Gnostic element in his teaching.| no longer left in doubt; for the Gnostic element has clearly gained the ascendant, though it has not yet driven its rival out of the field. Two characteristic features in his teaching especially deserve consideration, both as evincing the tendency of his speculations and as throwing back light on the notices in the Colossian Epistle.

1. His Gnostic Cosmogony

1. His cosmogony is essentially Gnostic. The great problem of creation presented itself to him in the same aspect; and the solution which he offered was generically the same. The world, he asserted, was not made by the highest God, but by an angel or power far removed from, and ignorant of, this supreme Being[^[330]]. Other authorities describing his system speak not of a single power, but of powers, as creating the universe[^[331]]; but all alike represent this demiurge, or these demiurges, as ignorant of the absolute God. It is moreover stated that he held the Mosaic law to have been given not by the supreme God Himself, but by this angel, or one of these angels, who created the world[^[332]].

and consequent angelology.

From these notices it is plain that angelology had an important place in his speculations; and that he employed it to explain the existence of evil supposed to be inherent in the physical world, as well as to account for the imperfections of the old dispensation. The ‘remote distance’ of his angelic demiurge from the supreme God can hardly be explained except on the hypothesis of successive generations of these intermediate agencies. Thus his solution is thoroughly Gnostic. At the same time, as contrasted with later and more sharply defined Gnostic systems, the Judaic origin and complexion of his cosmogony is obvious. His intermediate agencies still retain the name and the personality of angels, and have not yet given way to those vague idealities which, as emanations |Angels of earlier and æons of later Gnostics.| or æons, took their place in later speculations. Thus his theory is linked on to the angelology of later Judaism founded on the angelic appearances recorded in the Old Testament narrative. And again: while later Gnostics represent the demiurge and giver of the law as antagonistic to the supreme and good God, Cerinthus does not go beyond postulating his ignorance. He went as far as he could without breaking entirely with the Old Testament and abandoning his Judaic standing-ground.

Cerinthus a link between the Colossian heresy and later Gnosticism.

In these respects Cerinthus is the proper link between the incipient gnosis of the Colossian heretics and the mature gnosis of the second century. In the Colossian epistle we still breathe the atmosphere of Jewish angelology, nor is there any trace of the æon of later Gnosticism[^[333]]; while yet speculation is so far advanced that the angels have an important function in explaining the mysteries of the creation and government of the world. On the other hand it has not reached the point at which we find it in Cerinthus. Gnostic conceptions respecting the relation of the demiurgic agency to the supreme God would appear to have passed through three stages. This relation was represented first, as imperfect appreciation; next, as entire ignorance; lastly, as direct antagonism. The second and third are the standing points of Cerinthus and of the later Gnostic teachers respectively. The first was probably the position of the Colossian false teachers. The imperfections of the natural world, they would urge, were due to the limited capacities of these angels to whom the demiurgic work was committed, and to their imperfect sympathy with the supreme God; but at the same time they might fitly receive worship as mediators between God and man; and indeed humanity seemed in its weakness to need the intervention of some such beings less remote from itself than the highest heaven.

2. His Christology.

2. Again the Christology of Cerinthus deserves attention from this point of view. Here all our authorities are agreed. As a Judaizer Cerinthus held with the Ebionites that Jesus was only the son of Joseph and Mary, born in the natural way. As a Gnostic he maintained that the Christ first descended in the form of a dove on the carpenter’s son at his baptism; that He revealed to him the unknown Father, and worked miracles through him: and that at length He took His flight and left him, so that Jesus alone suffered and rose, while the Christ remained impassible[^[334]]. It would appear also, though this is not certain, that he described this re-ascension of the Christ, as a return ‘to His own pleroma[^[335]].’

Approach towards Cerinthian Christology in the Colossian heresy.

Now it is not clear from St Paul’s language what opinions the Colossian heretics held respecting the person of our Lord; but we may safely assume that he regarded them as inadequate and derogatory. The emphasis, with which he asserts the eternal being and absolute sovereignty of Christ, can hardly be explained in any other way. But individual expressions tempt us to conjecture that the same ideas were already floating in the air, which ultimately took form and consistency in the tenets of Cerinthus. Thus, when he reiterates the statement that the whole pleroma abides permanently in Christ[^[336]], he would appear to be tacitly refuting some opinion which maintained only mutable and imperfect relations between the two. When again he speaks of the true gospel first taught to the Colossians as the doctrine of ‘the Christ, even Jesus the Lord[^[337]],’ his language might seem to be directed against the tendency to separate the heavenly Christ from the earthly Jesus, as though the connexion were only transient. When lastly he dwells on the work of reconciliation, as wrought ‘through the blood of Christ’s cross,’ ‘in the body of His flesh through death[^[338]],’ we may perhaps infer that he already discerned a disposition to put aside Christ’s passion as a stumbling-block in the way of philosophical religion. Thus regarded, the Apostle’s language gains force and point; though no stress can be laid on explanations which are so largely conjectural.

The Gnosticism of the Colossians being vague and undeveloped.

But if so, the very generality of his language shows that these speculations were still vague and fluctuating. The difference which separates these heretics from Cerinthus may be measured by the greater precision and directness in the Apostolic counter-statement, as we turn from the Epistle to the Colossians to the Gospel of St John. In this interval, extending over nearly a quarter of a century, speculation had taken a definite shape. The elements of Gnostic theory, which were before held in solution, had meanwhile crystallized around the facts of the Gospel. Yet still we seem justified, even at the earlier date, in speaking of these general ideas as Gnostic, guarding ourselves at the same time against misunderstanding with the twofold caution, that we here employ the term to express the simplest and most elementary conceptions of this tendency of thought, and that we do not postulate its use as a distinct designation of any sect or sects at this early date. Thus limited, the view that the writer of this epistle is combating a Gnostic heresy seems free from all objections, while it appears necessary to explain his language; and certainly it does not, as is sometimes imagined, place any weapon in the hands of those who would assail the early date and Apostolic authorship of the epistle.

---

On some points connected with the Essenes.

I.
THE NAME ESSENE.

Various forms of the name in Greek.

The name is variously written in Greek;

1. Ἐσσηνός: Joseph. Ant. xiii. 5. 9, xiii. 10. 6, xv. 10. 5, xviii. 1. 2, 5, B.J. ii. 8. 2, 13, Vit. 2; Plin. N.H. v. 15. 17 (Essenus); Dion Chrys. in Synes. Dion 3; Hippol. Hær. ix. 18, 28 (MS ἐσηνός); Epiphan. Hær. p. 28 sq, 127 (ed. Pet.).

2. Ἐσσαῖος: Philo II. pp. 457, 471, 632 (ed. Mang.); Hegesippus in Euseb. H.E. iv. 22; Porphyr. de Abstin. iv. 11. So too Joseph. B.J. ii. 7. 3, ii. 20. 4, iii. 2. 1; Ant. xv. 10. 4; though in the immediate context of this last passage he writes Ἐσσηνός, if the common texts may be trusted.

3. Ὀσσαῖος: Epiphan. Hær. pp. 40 sq., 125, 462. The common texts very frequently make him write Ὀσσηνός, but see Dindorf’s notes, Epiphan. Op. 1. pp. 380, 425. With Epiphanius the Essenes are a Samaritan, the Ossæans a Judaic sect. He has evidently got his information from two distinct sources, and does not see that the same persons are intended.

4. Ιἐσσαῖος, Epiphan. Hær. p. 117. From the connexion the same sect again seems to be meant: but owing to the form Epiphanius conjectures (οἶμαι) that the name is derived from Jesse, the father of David.

All etymologies to be rejected which derive the name.

If any certain example could be produced where the name occurs in any early Hebrew or Aramaic writing, the question of its derivation would probably be settled; but in the absence of a single decisive instance a wide field is opened for conjecture, and critics have not been backward in availing themselves of the license. In discussing the claims of the different etymologies proposed we may reject:

(i) From the Greek;

First: derivations from the Greek. Thus Philo connects the word with ὅσιος ‘holy’: Quod omn. prob. 12, p. 457 Ἐσσαῖοι ... διαλέκτου ἑλληνικῆς παρώνυμοι ὁσιότητος, § 13, p. 459 τῶν Ἐσσαίων ἢ ὁσίων, Fragm. p. 632 καλοῦνται μὲν Ἐσσαῖοι, παρὰ τὴν ὁσιότητα, μοὶ δοκῶ [δοκεῖ;], τῆς προσηγορίας ἀξιωθέντες. It is not quite clear whether Philo is here playing with words after the manner of his master Plato, or whether he holds a pre-established harmony to exist among different languages by which similar sounds represent similar things, or whether lastly he seriously means that the name was directly derived from the Greek word ὅσιος. The last supposition is the least probable; but he certainly does not reject this derivation ‘as incorrect’ (Ginsburg Essenes p. 27), nor can παρώνυμοι ὁσιότητος be rendered ‘from an incorrect derivation from the Greek homonym hosiotes’ (ib. p. 32), since the word παρώνυμος never involves the notion of false etymology. The amount of truth which probably underlies Philo’s statement will be considered hereafter. Another Greek derivation is ἴσος, ‘companion, associate,’ suggested by Rapoport, Erech Millin p. 41. Several others again are suggested by Löwy, s.v. Essäer, e.g. ἔσω from their esoteric doctrine, or αἶσα from their fatalism. All such may be rejected as instances of ingenious trifling, if indeed they deserve to be called ingenious.

(ii) From names of persons or places;

Secondly: derivations from proper names whether of persons or of places. Thus the word has been derived from Jesse the father of David (Epiphan. l.c.), or from one ישי Isai, the disciple of R. Joshua ben Perachia who migrated to Egypt in the time of Alexander Jannæus (Löw in Ben Chananja i. p. 352). Again it has been referred to the town Essa (a doubtful reading in Joseph. Ant. xiii. 15. 3) beyond the Jordan. And other similar derivations have been suggested.

From Hebrew roots not supplying the right consonants,

Thirdly: etymologies from the Hebrew or Aramaic, which do not supply the right consonants, or do not supply them in the right order. Under this head several must be rejected;

אסר āsar ‘to bind,’ Adler Volkslehrer VI. p. 50, referred to by Ginsburg Essenes p. 29.

חסיד chāsīd ‘pious,’ which is represented by Ἀσιδαῖος (1 Macc. ii. 42 (v. l.), vii. 13, 2 Macc. xiv. 6), and could not possibly assume the form Ἐσσαῖος or Ἐσσηνός. Yet this derivation appears in Josippon ben Gorion (iv. 6, 7, v. 24, pp. 274, 278, 451), who substitutes Chasidim in narratives where the Essenes are mentioned in the original of Josephus; and it has been adopted by many more recent writers.

סחא s’āch ‘to bathe,’ from which with an Aleph prefixed we might get אסהאי as’chai ‘bathers’ (a word however which does not occur): Grätz Gesch. der Juden iii. pp. 82, 468.

צנוע tsanūaع ‘retired, modest,’ adopted by Frankel (Zeitschrift 1846, p. 449, Monatschrift II[. p. 32) after a suggestion by Löw.

such as those which make n part of the root.

To this category must be assigned those etymologies which contain a ו as the third consonant of the root; since the comparison of the parallel forms Ἐσσαῖος and Ἐσσηνός shows that in the latter word the ν is only formative. On this ground we must reject:

חסין chāsīn; see below under עשין.

חצן chōtsen ‘a fold’ of a garment, and so supposed to signify the περίζωμα or ‘apron’, which was given to every neophyte among the Essenes (Joseph. B.J. ii. 8. 5, 7): suggested by Jellinek Ben Chananja IV. p. 374.

עשין عāshīn ‘strong’: see Cohn in Frankel’s Monatschrift VII. p. 271. This etymology is suggested to explain Epiphanius Hær. p. 40 τοῦτο δὲ τὸ γένος τῶν Ὀσσηνῶν ἑρμηνεύεται διὰ τῆς ἐκδόσεως τοῦ ὀνόματος στιβαρὸν γένος (‘a sturdy race’). The name ‘Essene’ is so interpreted also in Makrisi (de Sacy, Chrestom. Arab. I. p. 114, 306); but, as he himself writes it with Elif and not Ain, it is plain that he got this interpretation from some one else, probably from Epiphanius. The correct reading however in Epiphanius is Ὀσσαίων, not Ὀσσηνῶν; and it would therefore appear that this father or his informant derived the word from the Hebrew root עןו rather than from the Aramaic עשן. The Ὀσσαῖοι would then be the עויס, and this is so far a possible derivation, that the n does not enter into the root. Another word suggested to explain the etymology of Epiphanius is the Aramaic חסין chāsīn ‘powerful, strong’ (from הסן); but this is open to the same objections as עשין.

Other derivations considered:

When all such derivations are eliminated as untenable or improbable, considerable uncertainty still remains. The 1st and 3rd radicals might be any of the gutturals א,ה,ח,ע; and the Greek ς, as the 2nd radical, might represent any one of several Shemitic sibilants.

Thus we have the choice of the following etymologies, which have found more or less favour.

(1) אסיא ‘a physician’;

(1) אסא ăsā ‘to heal,’ whence אסיא asyā, ‘a physician.’ The Essenes are supposed to be so called because Josephus states (B.J. ii. 8. 6) that they paid great attention to the qualities of herbs and minerals with a view to the healing of diseases (πρὸς θεραπείαν παθῶν). This etymology is supported likewise by an appeal to the name θεραπευταί, which Philo gives to an allied sect in Egypt (de Vit. Cont. § 1, II. p. 471). It seems highly improbable however, that the ordinary name of the Essenes should have been derived from a pursuit which was merely secondary and incidental; while the supposed analogy of the Therapeutæ rests on a wrong interpretation of the word. Philo indeed (l.c.), bent upon extracting from it as much moral significance as possible, says, θεραπευταὶ καὶ θεραπευτρίδες καλοῦνται, ἤτοι παρ’ ὅσον ἰατρικὴν ἐπαγγέλλονται κρείσσονα τῆς κατὰ πόλεις ἡ μὲν γὰρ σώματα θεραπεύει μόνον, ἐκείνη δὲ καὶ ψυχὰς κ.τ.λ.) ἢ παρ’ ὅσον ἐκ φύσεως καὶ τῶν ἱερῶν νόμων ἐπαιδεύθησαν θεραπεύειν τὸ ὃν κ.τ.λ.: but the latter meaning alone accords with the usage of the word; for θεραπευτής, used absolutely, signifies ‘a worshipper, devotee,’ not ‘a physician, healer.’ This etymology of Ἐσσαῖος is ascribed, though wrongly, to Philo by Asaria di Rossi (Meor Enayim 3, fol. 33 a) and has been very widely received. Among more recent writers, who have adopted or favoured it, are Bellermann (Ueber Essäer u. Therapeuten p. 7), Gfrörer (Philo II. p. 341), Dähne (Ersch u. Gruber, s.v.), Baur (Christl. Kirche der drei erst. Jahrh. p. 20), Herzfeld (Gesch. des Judenthums II. p. 371, 395, 397 sq.), Geiger (Urschrift p. 126), Derenbourg (L’Histoire et la Géographie de la Palestine pp. 170, 175, notes), Keim (Jesus von Nazara I. p. 284 sq.), and Hamburger (Real-Encyclopädie für Bibel u. Talmud, s.v.). Several of these writers identify the Essenes with the Baithusians (ביהוסין) of the Talmud, though in the Talmud the Baithusians are connected with the Sadducees. This identification was suggested by di Rossi (l.c. fol. 33 b), who interprets ‘Baithusians’ as ‘the school of the Essenes’ (ביח איסיא): while subsequent writers, going a step further, have explained it ‘the school of the physicians’ (ביח איסיא).

(2) חזיא ‘a seer’;

(2) חזא chăzā ‘to see’, whence חזיא chazyā ‘a seer’, in reference to the prophetic powers which the Essenes claimed, as the result of ascetic contemplation: Joseph. B.J. ii. 8. 12 εἰσὶ δὲ ἐν αὐτοῖς ὃι καὶ τὰ μέλλοντα προγινώσκειν ὑπισχνοῦνται κ.τ.λ. For instances of such Essene prophets see Ant. xiii. II. 2, xv. 10. 5, B.J. I. 3. 5, ii. 7. 3. Suidas, s.v. Ἐσσαῖοι, says: θεωρίᾳ τὰ πολλὰ παραμένουσιν, ἔνθεν καὶ Ἐσσαῖοι καλοῦνται, τοῦτο δηλοῦντος τοῦ ὀνόματος, τουτέστι, θεωρητικοί. For this derivation, which was suggested by Baumgarten (see Bellermann p. 10) and is adopted by Hilgenfeld (Jüd. Apocal. p. 278), there is something to be said: but חזא is rather ὁρᾶν than θεωρεῖν; and thus it must denote the result rather than the process, the vision which was the privilege of the few rather than the contemplation which was the duty of all. Indeed in a later paper (Zeitschr. XI. p. 346, 1868) Hilgenfeld expresses himself doubtfully about this derivation, feeling the difficulty of explaining the σς from the ז. This is a real objection. In the transliteration of the LXX the ז is persistently represented by ζ, and the צ by ς. The exceptions to this rule, where the manuscript authority is beyond question, are very few, and in every case they seem capable of explanation by peculiar circumstances.

(3) עשה ‘to do’;

(3) عāsāh ‘to do,’ so that Ἐσσαῖοι would signify ‘the doers, the observers of the law,’ thus referring to the strictness of Essene practices: see Oppenheim in Frankel’s Monatschrift VII. p. 272 sq. It has been suggested also that, as the Pharisees were especially designated the teachers, the Essenes were called the ‘doers’ by a sort of antithesis: see an article in Jost’s Annalen 1839, p. 145. Thus the talmudic phrase אנשי מעשה, interpreted ‘men of practice, of good deeds,’ is supposed to refer to the Essenes (see Frankel’s Zeitschrift III. p. 458, Monatschrift II. p. 70). In some passages indeed (see Surenhuis Mishna III. p. 313) it may possibly mean ‘workers of miracles’ (as ἔργον Joh. v. 20, vii. 21, x. 25, etc.); but in this sense also it might be explained of the thaumaturgic powers claimed by the Essenes. (See below, p. [126].) On the use which has been made of a passage in the Aboth of R. Nathan c. 37, as supporting this derivation, I shall have to speak hereafter. Altogether this etymology has little or nothing to recommend it.

I have reserved to the last the two derivations which seem to deserve most consideration.

(4) chasyo ‘pious’;

(4) ܚܤܝ

chasi (ܚܣܐ

ch’sē) or ܚܣܝܐ

chasyo, ‘pious,’ in Syriac. This derivation, which is also given by de Sacy (Chrestom. Arab. I. p. 347), is adopted by Ewald (Gesch. des V. Isr. IV. p. 484, ed. 3, 1864, VII. pp. 154, 477, ed. 2, 1859), who abandons in its favour another etymology (הזן chazzan ‘watcher, worshipper’ = θεραπευτής) which he had suggested in an earlier edition of his fourth volume (p. 420). It is recommended by the fact that it resembles not only in sound, but in meaning, the Greek ὅσιος, of which it is a common rendering in the Peshito (Acts ii. 27, xiii. 35, Tit. i. 8). Thus it explains the derivation given by Philo (see above, p. [115]), and it also accounts for the tendency to write Ὀσσαῖος for Ἐσσαῖος in Greek. Ewald moreover points out how an Essenizing Sibylline poem (Orac. Sib. iv; see above, p. 96) dwells on the Greek equivalents, εὐσεβής, εὐσεβίη, etc. (vv. 26, 35, 42 sq., 148 sq., 162, 165 sq., 178 sq., ed. Alexandre), as if they had a special value for the writer: see Gesch. VII. p. 154, Sibyll. Bücher p. 46. Lipsius (Schenkel’s Bibel-Lexikon, s.v.) also considers this the most probable etymology.

(5) חשאים ‘silent ones.’

(5) חשא chāshā (also חשה) Heb., ‘to be silent’; whence חשאים chashshāīm ‘the silent ones,’ who meditate on mysteries. Jost (Gesch. d. Judenth. I. p. 207) believes that this was the derivation accepted by Josephus, since he elsewhere (Ant. iii. 7. 5, iii. 8. 9) writes out חשן, chōshen ‘the high-priest’s breast-plate’ (Exod. xxviii. 15 sq), ἐσσήν or ἐσσήνης in Greek, and explains it σημαίνει, τοῦτο κατὰ τὴν Ἑλλήνων γλῶτταν λογεῖον (i.e. the ‘place of oracles’ or ‘of reason’: comp. Philo de Mon. ii. § 5, II. p. 226 καλεῖται λογεῖον ἐτύμως, ἐπειδὴ τὰ ἐν οὐρανῷ πάντα λόγοις καὶ ἀναλογίαις δεδημιούργηται κ.τ.λ.), as it is translated in the LXX. Even though modern critics should be right in connecting חשן with the Arab. ﺣسن

‘pulcher fuit, ornavit’ (see Gesen. Thes. p. 535, s.v.), the other derivation may have prevailed in Josephus’ time. We may illustrate this derivation by Josephus’ description of the Essenes, B.J. ii. 8. 5 τοῖς ἔξωθεν ὡς μυστήριόν τι φρικτὸν ἡ τῶν ἔνδον σιωπὴ καταφαίνεται; and perhaps this will also explain the Greek equivalent θεωρητικοί, which Suidas gives for Ἐσσαῖοι. The use of the Hebrew word חשאים in Mishna Shekalim v. 6, though we need not suppose that the Essenes are there meant, will serve to show how it might be adopted as the name of the sect. On this word see Levy Chaldäisches Wörterbuch p. 287. On the whole this seems the most probable etymology of any, though it has not found so much favour as the last. At all events the rules of transliteration are entirely satisfied, and this can hardly be said of the other derivations which come into competition with it.

2.
ORIGIN AND AFFINITIES OF THE ESSENES.

The principle of the restoration.

The ruling principle of the Restoration under Ezra was the isolation of the Jewish people from all influences of the surrounding nations. Only by the rigorous application of this principle was it possible to guard the nationality of the Hebrews, and thus to preserve the sacred deposit of religious truth of which this nationality was the husk. Hence the strictest attention was paid to the Levitical ordinances, and more especially to those which aimed at ceremonial purity. The principle, which was thus distinctly asserted at the period of the national revival, gained force and concentration at a later date from the active antagonism to which the patriotic Jews were driven by the religious and political aggressions of the Syrian kings. During the Maccabæan wars we read of a party or sect |Rise of the Asidæans.| called the Chasidim or Asidæans (Ἀσιδαῖοι), the ‘pious’ or ‘devout,’ who zealous in their observance of the ceremonial law stoutly resisted any concession to the practices of Hellenism, and took their place in the van of the struggle with their national enemies, the Antiochene monarchs (1 Macc. ii. 42, vii. 13, 2 Macc. xiv. 6). But, though their names appear now for the first time, they are not mentioned as a newly formed party; and it is probable that they had their origin at a much earlier date.

The subsequent history of this tendency to exclusiveness and isolation is wrapt in the same obscurity. At a somewhat later date |Pharisaism and Essenism traced to the same principle.| it is exhibited in the Pharisees and the Essenes; but whether these were historically connected with the Chasidim as divergent offshoots of the original sect, or whether they represent independent developments of the same principle, we are without the proper data for deciding. The principle itself appears in the name of the Pharisees, which, as denoting ‘separation,’ points to the avoidance of all foreign and contaminating influences. On the other hand the meaning of the name Essene is uncertain, for the attempt to derive it directly from Chasidim must be abandoned; but the tendency of the sect is unmistakeable. If with the Pharisees ceremonial purity was a principal aim, with the Essenes it was an absorbing passion. It was enforced and guarded moreover by a special organization. While the Pharisees were a sect, the Essenes were an order. Like the Pythagoreans in Magna Græcia and the Buddhists in India before them, like the Christian monks of the Egyptian and Syrian deserts after them, they were formed into a religious brotherhood, fenced about by minute and rigid rules, and carefully guarded from any contamination with the outer world.

Foreign elements in Essenism.

Thus the sect may have arisen in the heart of Judaism. The idea of ceremonial purity was essentially Judaic. But still, when we turn to the representations of Philo and Josephus, it is impossible to overlook other traits which betoken foreign affinities. Whatever the Essenes may have been in their origin, at the Christian era at least and in the Apostolic age they no longer represented the current type of religious thought and practice among the Jews. This foreign element has been derived by some from the Pythagoreans, by others from the Syrians or Persians or even from the farther East; but, whether Greek or Oriental, its existence has until lately been almost universally allowed.

Frankel’s theory well received,

The investigations of Frankel, published first in 1846 in his Zeitschrift, and continued in 1853 in his Monatschrift, have given a different direction to current opinion. Frankel maintains that Essenism was a purely indigenous growth, that it is only Pharisaism in an exaggerated form, and that it has nothing distinctive and owes nothing, or next to nothing, to foreign influences. To establish this point, he disparages the representations of Philo and Josephus as coloured to suit the tastes of their heathen readers, while in their place he brings forward as authorities a number of passages from talmudical and rabbinical writings, in which he discovers references to this sect. In this view he is followed implicitly by some later writers, and has largely influenced the opinions of others; while nearly all speak of his investigations as throwing great light on the subject.

but groundless and misleading.

It is perhaps dangerous to dissent from a view which has found so much favour; but nevertheless I am obliged to confess my belief that, whatever value Frankel’s investigations may have as contributions to our knowledge of Jewish religious thought and practice, they throw little or no light on the Essenes specially; and that the blind acceptance of his results by later writers has greatly obscured the distinctive features of this sect. I cannot but think that any one, who will investigate Frankel’s references and test his results step by step, will arrive at the conclusion to which I myself have been led, that his talmudical researches have left our knowledge of this sect where it was before, and that we must still refer to Josephus and Philo for any precise information respecting them.

His double derivation of the name.

Frankel starts from the etymology of the name. He supposes that Ἐσσαῖος, Ἐσσηνός, represent two different Hebrew words, the former חסיד chāsīd, the latter צנוע tsanūaع, both clothed in suitable Greek dresses[^[339]]. Wherever therefore either of these words occurs, there is, or there may be, a direct reference to the Essenes.

Fatal objections to it.

It is not too much to say that these etymologies are impossible; and this for several reasons. (1) The two words Ἐσσαῖος, Ἐσσηνός, are plainly duplicate forms of the same Hebrew or Aramaic original, like Σαμψαῖος and Σαμψηνός (Epiphan. Hær. pp. 40, 47, 127; and even Σαμψίτης p. 46), Ναζωραῖος and Ναζαρηνός, Γιτταῖος and Γιττηνός (Steph. Byz. s.v., Hippol. Hær. vi. 7), with which we may compare Βοστραῖος and Βοστρηνός, Μελιταῖος and Μελιτηνός, and numberless other examples. (2) Again; when we consider either word singly, the derivation offered is attended with the most serious difficulties. There is no reason why in Ἐσσαῖος the d should have disappeared from chasid, while it is hardly possible to conceive that tsanuaع should have taken such an incongruous form as Ἐσσηνός. (3) And lastly; the more important of the two words, chasid, had already a recognised Greek equivalent in Ἀσιδαῖος; and it seems highly improbable that a form so divergent as Ἐσσαῖος should have taken its place.

Dependence of the theory on the derivation.

Indeed Frankel’s derivations are generally, if not universally, abandoned by later writers; and yet these same writers repeat his quotations and accept his results, as if the references were equally valid, though the name of the sect has disappeared. They seem to be satisfied with the stability of the edifice, even when the foundation is undermined. Thus for instance Grätz not only maintains after Frankel that the Essenes ‘were properly nothing more than stationary or, more strictly speaking, consistently logical (consequente) Chasidim,’ and ‘that therefore they were not so far removed from the Pharisees that they can be regarded as a separate sect,’ and ‘accepts entirely these results’ which, as he says, ‘rest on critical investigation’ (III. p. 463), but even boldly translates chasiduth ‘the Essene mode of life’ (ib. 84), though he himself gives a wholly different derivation of the word ‘Essene,’ making it signify ‘washers’ or ‘baptists’ (see above, p. [116]). And even those who do not go to this length of inconsistency, yet avail themselves freely of the passages where chasid occurs, and interpret it of the Essenes, while distinctly repudiating the etymology[^[340]].

The term chasid not applied specially to the Essenes.

But, although Ἐσσαῖος or Ἐσσηνός is not a Greek form of chasid, it might still happen that this word was applied to them as an epithet, though not as a proper name. Only in this case the reference ought to be unmistakeable, before any conclusions are based upon it. But in fact, after going through all the passages which Frankel gives, it is impossible to feel satisfied that in a single instance there is a direct allusion to the Essenes. Sometimes the word seems to refer to the old sect of the Chasidim or Asidæans, as for instance when Jose ben Joezer, who lived during the Maccabæan war, is called a chasid[^[341]]. At all events this R. Jose is known to have been a married man, for he is stated to have disinherited his children (Baba Bathra 133 b); and therefore he cannot have belonged to the stricter order of Essenes. Sometimes it is employed quite generally to denote pious observers of the ceremonial law, as for instance when it is said that with the death of certain famous teachers the Chasidim ceased[^[342]]. In this latter sense the expression חסידים הראשונים, ‘the ancient or primitive Chasidim’ (Monatschr. pp. 31, 62), is perhaps used; for these primitive Chasidim again are mentioned as having wives and children[^[343]], and it appears also that they were scrupulously exact in bringing their sacrificial offerings[^[344]]. Thus it is impossible to identify them with the Essenes, as described by Josephus and Philo. Even in those passages of which most has been made, the reference is more than doubtful. Thus great stress is laid on the saying of R. Joshua ben Chananiah in Mishna Sotah iii. 4, ‘The foolish chasid and the clever villain (חסיד שוטה ורשע ערום), etc., are the ruin of the world.’ But the connexion points to a much more general meaning of chasid, and the rendering in Surenhuis, ‘Homo pius qui insipiens, improbus qui astutus,’ gives the correct antithesis. So we might say that there is no one more mischievous than the wrong-headed conscientious man. It is true that the Gemaras illustrate the expression by examples of those who allow an over-punctilious regard for external forms to stand in the way of deeds of mercy. And perhaps rightly. But there is no reference to any distinctive Essene practices in the illustrations given. Again; the saying in Mishna Pirke Aboth v. 10, ‘He who says Mine is thine and thine is thine is [a] chasid (שלי שלך ושלך שלך הסיד),’ is quoted by several writers as though it referred to the Essene community of goods[^[345]]. But in the first place the idea of community of goods would require ‘Mine is thine and thine is mine’: and in the second place, the whole context, and especially the clause which immediately follows (and which these writers do not give), ‘He who says Thine is mine and mine is mine is wicked (רשע),’ show plainly that חסיד must be taken in its general sense ‘pious,’ and the whole expression implies not reciprocal interchange but individual self-denial.

Possible connexion of
chasid and chasyo
discussed.

It might indeed be urged, though this is not Frankel’s plea, that supposing the true etymology of the word Ἐσσαῖος, Ἐσσηνός, to be the Syriac ܚܣܐ

, ܚܣܝܐ

, ch’sē, chasyo (a possible derivation), chasid might have been its Hebrew equivalent as being similar in sound and meaning, and perhaps ultimately connected in derivation, the exactly corresponding triliteral root חסא (comp. חום) not being in use in Hebrew[^[346]]. But before we accept this explanation we have a right to demand some evidence which, if not demonstrative, is at least circumstantial, that chasid is used of the Essenes: and this we have seen is not forthcoming. Moreover, if the Essenes had thus inherited the name of the Chasidim, we should have expected that its old Greek equivalent Ἀσιδαῖοι, which is still used later than the Maccabæan era, would also have gone with it; rather than that a new Greek word Ἐσσαῖος (or Ἐσσηνός) should have been invented to take its place. But indeed the Syriac Version of the Old Testament furnishes an argument against this convertibility of the Hebrew chasid and the Syriac chasyo, which must be regarded as |Usage is unfavourable to this view.| almost decisive. The numerous passages in the Psalms, where the expressions ‘My chasidim,’ ‘His chasidim,’ occur (xxx. 5, xxxi. 24, xxxvii. 28, lii. 11, lxxix. 2, lxxxv. 9, xcvii. 10, cxvi. 15, cxxxii. 9, cxlix. 9: comp. xxxii. 6, cxlix. 1, 5) seem to have suggested the assumption of the name to the original Asidæans. But in such passages חסיד is commonly, if not universally, rendered in the Peshito not by ܚܣܐ

, ܚܣܝܐ

, but by a wholly different word ܙܕܝܩ

zadīk. And again, in the Books of Maccabees the Syriac rendering for the name Ἀσιδαῖοι, Chasidim, is a word derived from another quite distinct root. These facts show that the Hebrew chasid and the Syriac chasyo were not practically equivalents, so that the one would suggest the other; and thus all presumption in favour of a connexion between Ἀσιδαῖος and Ἐσσαῖος is removed.

Frankel’s second derivation

Frankel’s other derivation צנוע, tsanūaع, suggested as an equivalent to Ἐσσηνός, has found no favour with later writers, and indeed is too far removed from the Greek form to be tenable. |tsanuaع considered.|

Nor do the passages quoted by him[^[347]] require or suggest any allusion to this sect. Thus in Mishna Demai, vi. 6, we are told that the school of Hillel permits a certain license in a particular matter, but it is added, ‘The צנועי of the school of Hillel followed the precept of the school of Shammai.’ Here, as Frankel himself confesses, the Jerusalem Talmud knows nothing about Essenes, but explains the word by בשדי, i.e. ‘upright, worthy[^[348]]’; while elsewhere, as he allows[^[349]], it must have this general sense. Indeed the mention of the ‘school of Hillel’ here seems to exclude the Essenes. In its comprehensive meaning it will most naturally be taken also in the other passage quoted by Frankel, Kiddushin 71 a, where it is stated that the pronunciation of the sacred name, which formerly was known to all, is now only to be divulged to the צנועים, i.e. the discreet, among the priests; and in fact it occurs in reference to the communication of the same mystery in the immediate context also, where it could not possibly be treated as a proper name; שצנוע ועניו ועומד בחצי ימיו, ‘who is discreet and meek and has reached middle age,’ etc.

Other supposed etymologies in the Talmud. (1) Asya ‘a physician,’

Of other etymologies, which have been suggested, and through which it might be supposed the Essenes are mentioned by name in the Talmud, איסא, asya, ‘a physician,’ is the one which has found most favour. For the reasons given above (p. 117) this derivation seems highly improbable, and the passages quoted are quite insufficient to overcome the objections. Of these the strongest is in the Talm. Jerus. Yoma iii. 7, where we are told that a certain physician

not supported by the passages quoted in its behalf.

(אסי) offered to communicate the sacred name to R. Pinchas the son of Chama, and the latter refused on the ground that he ate of the tithes—this being regarded as a disqualification, apparently because it was inconsistent with the highest degree of ceremonial purity[^[350]]. The same story is told with some modifications in Midrash Qoheleth iii. 11[^[351]]. Here Frankel, though himself (as we have seen) adopting a different derivation of the word ‘Essene,’ yet supposes that this particular physician belonged to the sect, on the sole ground that ceremonial purity is represented as a qualification for the initiation into the mystery of the Sacred Name. Löwy (l.c.) denies that the allusion to the tithes is rightly interpreted: but even supposing it to be correct, the passage is quite an inadequate basis either for Frankel’s conclusion that this particular physician was an Essene, or for the derivation of the word Essene which others maintain. Again, in the statement of Talm. Jerus. Kethuboth ii. 3, that correct manuscripts were called books of אסי[^[352]], the word Asi is generally taken as a proper name. But even if this interpretation be false, there is absolutely nothing in the context which suggests any allusion to the Essenes[^[353]]. In like manner the passage from Sanhedrin 99 b, where a physician is mentioned[^[354]], supports no such inference. Indeed, as this last passage relates to the family of the Asi, he obviously can have had no connexion with the celibate Essenes.

(2) عasah ‘to do.’

Hitherto our search for the name in the Talmud has been unsuccessful. One possibility however still remains. The talmudical writers speak of certain אנשי מעשה ‘men of deeds’; and if (as some suppose) the name Essene is derived from עשה, have we not here the mention which we are seeking? Frankel rejects the etymology, but presses the identification[^[355]]. The expression, he urges, is often used in connexion with chasidim. It signifies ‘miracle workers,’ and therefore aptly describes the supernatural powers supposed to be exercised by the Essenes[^[356]]. Thus we are informed in Mishna Sotah ix. 15, that ‘When R. Chaninah ben Dosa died, the men of deeds ceased; when R. Jose Ketinta died, the chasidim ceased.’ In the Jerusalem Talmud however this mishna is read, ‘With the death of R. Chaninah ben Dosa and R. Jose Ketinta the chasidim ceased’; while the Gemara there explains R. Chaninah to have been one of the מעשה אנשי. Thus, Frankel concludes, ‘the identity of these with הסידים becomes still more plain.’ Now it seems clear that this expression אנשי מעשה in some places cannot refer to miraculous powers, but must mean ‘men of practical goodness,’ as for instance in Succah 51a, 53a; and being a general term expressive of moral excellence, it is naturally connected with chasidim, which is likewise a general term expressive of piety and goodness. Nor is there any reason why it should not always be taken in this sense. It is true that stories are told elsewhere of this R. Chaninah, which ascribe miraculous powers to him[^[357]], and hence there is a temptation to translate it ‘wonder-worker,’ as applied to him. But the reason is quite insufficient. Moreover it must be observed that R. Chaninah’s wife is a prominent person in the legends of his miracles reported in Taanith 24 b; and thus we need hardly stop to discuss the possible meanings of אנשי מעשה, since his claims to being considered an Essene are barred at the outset by this fact[^[358]].

It has been asserted indeed by a recent author, that one very ancient Jewish writer distinctly adopts this derivation, and as distinctly states that the Essenes were a class of Pharisees[^[359]]. If this were the case, Frankel’s theory, though not his etymology, would receive a striking confirmation: and it is therefore important to enquire on what foundation the assertion rests.

The authority for this derivation traced to an error.

Dr Ginsburg’s authority for this statement is a passage from the Aboth of Rabbi Nathan, c. 37, which, as he gives it, appears conclusive; ‘There are eight kinds of Pharisees ... and those Pharisees who live in celibacy are Essenes.’ But what are the facts of the case? First; This book was certainly not written by its reputed author, the R. Nathan who was vice-president under the younger Gamaliel about A. D. 140. It may possibly have been founded on an earlier treatise by that famous teacher, though even this is very doubtful: but in its present form it is a comparatively modern work. On this point all or almost all recent writers on Hebrew literature are agreed[^[360]]. Secondly; Dr Ginsburg has taken the reading מחופתו עשאני, without even mentioning any alternative. Whether the words so read are capable of the meaning which he has assigned to them, may be highly questionable; but at all events this cannot have been the original reading, as the parallel passages, Babl. Sotah fol. 22b, Jerus. Sotah v. 5, Jerus. Berakhoth ix. 5, (quoted by Buxtorf and Levy, s.v. פריש), distinctly prove. In Babl. Sotah l.c., the corresponding expression is מה הובתי ואעשנה ‘What is my duty, and I will do it,’ and the passage in Jerus. Berakhoth l.c. is to the same effect. These parallels show that the reading מה הובתי ואעשנה must be taken also in Aboth c. 37, so that the passage will be rendered, ‘The Pharisee who says, What is my duty, and I will do it.’ Thus the Essenes and celibacy disappear together. Lastly; Inasmuch as Dr Ginsburg himself takes a wholly different view of the name Essene, connecting it either with חצן ‘an apron,’ or with הסים ‘pious[^[361]],’ it is difficult to see how he could translate עשאני ‘Essene’ (from עשא ‘to do’) in this passage, except on the supposition that R. Nathan was entirely ignorant of the orthography and derivation of the word Essene. Yet, if such ignorance were conceivable in so ancient a writer, his authority on this question would be absolutely worthless. But indeed Dr Ginsburg would appear to have adopted this reference to R. Nathan, with the reading of the passage and the interpretation of the name, from some other writer[^[362]]. At all events it is quite inconsistent with his own opinion as expressed previously.

---

Are the Essenes alluded to, though not named, in the Talmud?

But, though we have not succeeded in finding any direct mention of this sect by name in the Talmud, and all the identifications of the word Essene with diverse expressions occurring there have failed us on examination, it might still happen that allusions to them were so frequent as to leave no doubt about the persons meant. Their organisation or their practices or their tenets might be precisely described, though their name was suppressed. Such allusions Frankel finds scattered up and down the Talmud in great profusion.

(1) The chaber or Associate.

(1) He sees a reference to the Essenes in the חבורא chăbūra or ‘Society,’ which is mentioned several times in talmudical writers[^[363]]. The chāber (הבר) or ‘Associate’ is, he supposes, a member of this brotherhood. He is obliged to confess that the word cannot always have this sense, but still he considers this to be a common designation of the Essenes. The chaber was bound to observe certain rules of ceremonial purity, and a period of probation was imposed upon him before he was admitted. With this fact Frankel connects the passage in Mishna Chagigah ii. 5, 6, where several degrees of ceremonial purity are specified. Having done this, he considers that he has the explanation of the statement in Josephus (B.J. ii. 8. 7, 10), that the Essenes were divided into four different grades or orders according to the time of their continuance in the ascetic practices demanded by the sect.

A passage in Chagigah considered.

But in the first place there is no reference direct or indirect to the chaber, or indeed to any organisation of any kind, in the passage of Chagigah. It simply contemplates different degrees of purification as qualifying for the performance of certain Levitical rites in an ascending scale. There is no indication that these lustrations are more than temporary and immediate in their application; and not the faintest hint is given of distinct orders of men, each separated from the other by formal barriers and each demanding a period of probation before admission from the order below, as was the case with the grades of the Essene brotherhood described by Josephus. Moreover the orders in Josephus are four in number[^[364]], while the degrees of ceremonial purity in Chagigah are five. Frankel indeed is inclined to maintain that only four degrees are intended in Chagigah, though this interpretation is opposed to the plain sense of the passage. But, even if he should be obliged to grant that the number of degrees is five[^[365]], he will not surrender the allusion to the Essenes, but meets the difficulty by supposing (it is a pure hypothesis) that there was a fifth and highest degree of purity among the Essenes, to which very few attained, and which, as I understand him, is not mentioned by Josephus on this account. But enough has already been said to show, that this passage in Chagigah can have no connexion with the Essenes and gives no countenance to Frankel’s views.

Difference between

As this artificial combination has failed, we are compelled to fall back on the notices relating to the chaber, and to ask whether |the chaber and the Essene.| these suggest any connexion with the account of the Essenes in Josephus. And the facts oblige us to answer this question in the negative. Not only do they not suggest such a connexion, but they are wholly irreconcilable with the account in the Jewish historian. This association or confraternity (if indeed the term is applicable to an organisation so loose and so comprehensive) was maintained for the sake of securing a more accurate study and a better observance of the ceremonial law. Two grades of purity are mentioned in connexion with it, designated by different names and presenting some difficulties[^[366]], into which it is not necessary to enter here. A chaber, it would appear, was one who had entered upon the second or higher stage. For this a period of a year’s probation was necessary. The chaber enrolled himself in the presence of three others who were already members of the association. This apparently was all the formality necessary: and in the case of a teacher even this was dispensed with, for being presumably acquainted with the law of things clean and unclean he was regarded as ex officio a chaber. The chaber was bound to keep himself from ceremonial defilements, and was thus distinguished from the [عam haarets or common people[^[367]]; but he was under no external surveillance and decided for himself as to his own purity. Moreover he was, or might be a married man: for the doctors disputed whether the wives and children of an associate were not themselves to be regarded as associates[^[368]]. In one passage, Sanhedrin 41a, it is even assumed, as a matter of course, that a woman may be an associate (חברה). In another (Niddah 33b)[^[369]] there is mention of a Sadducee and even of a Samaritan as a chaber. An organisation so flexible as this has obviously only the most superficial resemblances with the rigid rules of the Essene order; and in many points it presents a direct contrast to the characteristic tenets of that sect.

(2) The Bene hakkeneseth.

(2) Having discussed Frankel’s hypothesis respecting the chaber, I need hardly follow his speculations on the Bĕnē-hakkĕneseth, בני הכנסח, ‘sons of the congregation’ (Zabim iii. 2), in which expression probably few would discover the reference, which he finds, to the lowest of the Essene orders[^[370]].

(3) The ‘holy congregation at Jerusalem’

(3) But mention is also made of a ‘holy congregation’ or ‘assembly’ (עדה קדישה קהלא קדישא) ‘in Jerusalem’; and, following Rapoport, Frankel sees in this expression also an allusion to the Essenes[^[371]]. The grounds for this identification are, that in one passage (Berakhoth 9b) they are mentioned in connexion with prayer at day break, and in another (Midrash Qoheleth ix. 9) two persons are stated to belong to this ‘holy congregation,’ because they divided their day into three parts, devoting one-third to learning, another to prayer, and another to work. The first notice would suit the Essenes very well, though the practice mentioned was not so distinctively Essene as to afford any safe ground for this hypothesis. Of the second it should be observed, that no such division of the day is recorded of the Essenes, and indeed both Josephus (B.J. ii. 8. 5) and Philo (Fragm. p. 633) describe them as working from morning till night with the single interruption of their mid-day meal[^[372]]. But in fact the identification is beset with other and more serious difficulties. For this ‘holy congregation’ at Jerusalem is mentioned long |not an Essene community.| after the second destruction of the city under Hadrian[^[373]], when on Frankel’s own showing[^[374]] the Essene society had in all probability ceased to exist. And again certain members of it, e.g. Jose ben Meshullam (Mishna Bekhoroth iii. 3, vi. 1), are represented as uttering precepts respecting animals fit for sacrifice, though we have it on the authority of Josephus and Philo that the Essenes avoided the temple sacrifices altogether. The probability therefore seems to be that this ‘holy congregation’ was an assemblage of devout Jews who were drawn to the neighbourhood of the sanctuary after the destruction of the nation, and whose practices were regarded with peculiar reverence by the later Jews[^[375]].

(4) The Vethikin.

(4) Neither can we with Frankel[^[376]] discern any reference to the Essenes in those ותיקיו Vethikin, ‘pious’ or ‘learned’ men (whatever may be the exact sense of the word), who are mentioned in Berakhoth 9b as praying before sunrise; because the word itself seems quite general, and the practice, though enforced among the Essenes, as we know from Josephus (B.J. ii. 8. 5), would be common to all devout and earnest Jews. If we are not justified in saying that these ותיקיו were not Essenes, we have no sufficient grounds for maintaining that they were.

(5) The ‘primitive elders.’

(5) Nor again can we find any such reference in the זקנים or ‘primitive elders[^[377]].’ It may readily be granted that this term is used synonymously, or nearly so, with הראשונים הסידים ‘the primitive chasidim’; but, as we failed to see anything more than a general expression in the one, so we are naturally led to take the other in the same sense. The passages where the expression occurs (e.g. Shabbath 64b) simply refer to the stricter observances of early times, and do not indicate any reference to a particular society or body of men.

(6) The ‘morning bathers.’

(6) Again Frankel finds another reference to this sect in the טבלי שחרית Tōblē-shachărīth, or ‘morning-bathers,’ mentioned in Tosifta Yadayim c. 2[^[378]]. The identity of these with the ἡμεροβαπτισταὶ of Greek writers seems highly probable. The latter however, though they may have had some affinities with Essene practices and tenets, are nevertheless distinguished from this sect wherever they are mentioned[^[379]]. But the point to be observed is that, even though we should identify these Toble-shacharith with the Essenes, the passage in Tosifta Yadayim, so far from favouring, runs directly counter to Frankel’s view which regards the Essenes as only a branch of Pharisees: for the two are here represented as in direct antagonism. The Toble-shacharith say, ‘We grieve over you, Pharisees, because you pronounce the (sacred) Name in the morning without having bathed.’ The Pharisees retort, ‘We grieve over you, Toble-shacharith, because you pronounce the Name from this body in which is impurity.’

(7) The Banaim.

(7) In connexion with the Toble-shacharith we may consider another name, Banāīm (בנאים), in which also Frankel discovers an allusion to the Essenes[^[380]]. In Mishna Mikvaoth ix. 6 the word is opposed to בור bōr, ‘an ignorant or stupid person’; and this points to its proper meaning ‘the builders,’ i.e. the edifiers or teachers, according to the common metaphor in Biblical language. The word is discussed in Shabbath 114 and explained to mean ‘learned.’ But, because in Mikvaoth it is mentioned in connexion with ceremonial purity, and because in Josephus the Essenes are stated to have carried an ‘axe and shovel’ (B.J. ii. 8. 7, 9), and because moreover the Jewish historian in another place (Vit. 2) mentions having spent some time with one Banus a dweller in the wilderness, who lived on vegetables and fruits and bathed often day and night for the sake of purity, and who is generally considered to have been an Essene; therefore Frankel holds these Banaim to have been Essenes. This is a specimen of the misplaced ingenuity which distinguishes Frankel’s learned speculations on the Essenes. Josephus does |Josephus misinterpreted.| not mention an ‘axe and shovel,’ but an axe only (§ 7 ἀξινάριον), which he afterwards defines more accurately as a spade (§ 9 τῇ σκαλίδι, τοιοῦτον γάρ ἐστι τὸ διδόμενον ὑπ’ αὐτῶν ἀξινίδιον τοῖς νεοσυστάτοις) and which, as he distinctly states, was given them for the purpose of burying impurities out of sight (comp. Deut. xxiii. 12–14). Thus it has no connexion whatever with any ‘building’ implement. And again, it is true that Banus has frequently been regarded as an Essene, but there is absolutely no ground for this supposition. On the contrary the narrative of Josephus in his Life seems to |Another derivation of Banaim.| exclude it, as I shall have occasion to show hereafter[^[381]]. I should add that Sachs interprets Banaim ‘the bathers,’ regarding the explanation in Shabbath l.c. as a ‘later accommodation[^[382]].’ This seems to me very improbable; but, if it were conceded, the Banaim would then apparently be connected not with the Essenes, but with the Hemerobaptists.

---

Results of this investigation.

From the preceding investigation it will have appeared how little Frankel has succeeded in establishing his thesis that ‘the talmudical sources are acquainted with the Essenes and make mention of them constantly[^[383]].’ We have seen not only that no instance of the name Essene has been produced, but that all those passages which are supposed to refer to them under other designations, or to describe their practices or tenets, fail us on closer examination. In no case can we feel sure that there is any direct reference to this sect, while in most cases such reference seems to be excluded by the language or the attendant circumstances[^[384]]. Thus we are |Philo and Josephus our main authorities.| obliged to fall back upon the representations of Philo and Josephus. Their accounts are penned by eye-witnesses. They are direct and explicit, if not so precise or so full as we could have wished. The writers obviously consider that they are describing a distinct and exceptional phenomenon. And it would be a reversal of all established rules of historical criticism to desert the solid standing-ground of contemporary history for the artificial combinations and shadowy hypotheses, which Frankel would substitute in its place.

Frankel’s depreciation of them is unreasonable, and explains nothing.

But here we are confronted with Frankel’s depreciation of these ancient writers, which has been echoed by several later critics. They were interested, it is argued, in making their accounts attractive to their heathen contemporaries, and they coloured them highly for this purpose[^[385]]. We may readily allow that they would not be uninfluenced by such a motive, but the concession does not touch the main points at issue. This aim might have led Josephus, for example, to throw into bold relief the coincidences between the Essenes and Pythagoreans; it might even have induced him to give a semi-pagan tinge to the Essene doctrine of the future state of the blessed (B.J. ii. 8. 11). But it entirely fails to explain those peculiarities of the sect, which marked them off by a sharp line from orthodox Judaism, and which fully justify the term ‘separatists’ as applied to them by a recent writer. In three main features especially the portrait of the Essenes retains its distinctive character unaffected by this consideration.

(i) The avoidance of sacrifices is not accounted for.

(i) How, for instance, could this principle of accommodation have led both Philo and Josephus to lay so much stress on their divergence from Judaic orthodoxy in the matter of sacrifices? Yet this is perhaps the most crucial note of heresy which is recorded of the Essenes. What was the law to the orthodox Pharisee without the sacrifices, the temple-worship, the hierarchy? Yet the Essene declined to take any part in the sacrifices; he had priests of his own independently of the Levitical priesthood. On Frankel’s hypothesis that Essenism is merely an exaggeration of pure Pharisaism, no explanation of this abnormal phenomenon can be given. Frankel does indeed attempt to meet the case by some speculations respecting the red-heifer[^[386]], which are so obviously inadequate that they have not been repeated by later writers and may safely be passed over in silence here. On this point indeed the language of Josephus is not |The notices of Josephus and Philo considered.| quite explicit. He says (Ant. xviii. 1. 5) that, though they send offerings (ἀναθῆματα) to the temple, they perform no sacrifices, and he assigns as the reason their greater strictness as regards ceremonial purity (διαφορότητι ἁγνειῶν ἃς νομίζοιεν), adding that ‘for this reason being excluded from the common sanctuary (τεμενίσματος) they perform their sacrifices by themselves (ἐφ’ αὑτῶν τὰς θυσίας ἐπιτελοῦσι).’ Frankel therefore supposes that their only reason for abstaining from the temple sacrifices was that according to their severe notions the temple itself was profaned and therefore unfit for sacrificial worship. But if so, why should it not vitiate the offerings, as well as the sacrifices, and make them also unlawful? And indeed, where Josephus is vague, Philo is explicit. Philo (II. p. 457) distinctly states that the Essenes being more scrupulous than any in the worship of God (ἐν τοῖς μάλιστα θεραπευταὶ θεοῦ) do not sacrifice animals (οὐ ζῶα καταθύοντες), but hold it right to dedicate their own hearts as a worthy offering (ἀλλ’ ἱεροπρεπεῖς τὰς ἑαυτῶν διανοίας κατασκευάζειν ἀξιοῦντες). Thus the greater strictness, which Josephus ascribes to them, consists in the abstention from shedding blood, as a pollution in itself. And, when he speaks of their substituting private sacrifices, his own qualifications show that he does not mean the word to be taken literally. Their simple meals are their sacrifices; their refectory is their sanctuary; their president is their priest[^[387]]. It should be added also that, though we once hear of an Essene apparently within the temple precincts (B.J. i. 3. 5, Ant. xiii. II. 2)[^[388]], no mention is ever made of one offering sacrifices. Thus it is clear that with the Essene it was the sacrifices which polluted the temple, and not the |Their statements confirmed by the doctrine of Christian Essenes.| temple which polluted the sacrifices. And this view is further recommended by the fact that it alone will explain the position of their descendants, the Christianized Essenes, who condemned the slaughter of victims on grounds very different from those alleged in the Epistle to the Hebrews, not because they have been superseded by the Atonement, but because they are in their very nature repulsive to God; not because they have ceased to be right, but because they never were right from the beginning.

It may be said indeed, that such a view could not be maintained without impugning the authority, or at least disputing the integrity, of the Old Testament writings. The sacrificial system is so bound up with the Mosaic law, that it can only be rejected by the most arbitrary excision. This violent process however, uncritical as it is, was very likely to have been adopted by the Essenes[^[389]]. As a matter of fact, it did recommend itself to those Judaizing Christians who reproduced many of the Essene tenets, and who both theologically and historically may be regarded as the lineal |The Clementine Homilies justify this doctrine by arbitrary excision of the Scriptures.| descendants of this Judaic sect[^[390]]. Thus in the Clementine Homilies, an Ebionite work which exhibits many Essene features, the chief spokesman St Peter is represented as laying great stress on the duty of distinguishing the true and the false elements in the current Scriptures (ii. 38, 51, iii. 4, 5, 10, 42, 47, 49, 50, comp. xviii. 19). The saying traditionally ascribed to our Lord, ‘Show yourselves approved money-changers’ (γίνεσθε τραπεζῖται δόκιμοι), is more than once quoted by the Apostle as enforcing this duty (ii. 51, iii. 50, xviii. 20). Among these false elements he places all those passages which represent God as enjoining sacrifices (iii. 45, xviii. 19). It is plain, so he argues, that God did not desire sacrifices, for did He not kill those who lusted after the taste of flesh in the wilderness? and, if the slaughter of animals was thus displeasing to Him, how could He possibly have commanded victims to be offered to Himself (iii. 45)? It is equally clear from other considerations that this was no part of God’s genuine law. For instance, Christ declared that He came to fulfil every tittle of the Law; yet Christ abolished sacrifices (iii. 51). And again, the saying ‘I will have mercy and not sacrifice’ is a condemnation of this practice (iii. 56). The true prophet ‘hates sacrifices, bloodshed, libations’; he ‘extinguishes the fire of altars’ (iii. 26). The frenzy of the lying soothsayer is a mere intoxication produced by the reeking fumes of sacrifice (iii. 13). When in the immediate context of these denunciations we find it reckoned among the highest achievements of man ‘to know the names of angels, to drive away demons, to endeavour to heal diseases by charms (φαρμακίαις), |Essene features in this work.| and to find incantations (ἐπαοιδάς) against venomous serpents (iii. 36)’; when again St Peter is made to condemn as false those scriptures which speak of God swearing, and to set against them Christ’s command ‘Let your yea be yea’ (iii. 55); we feel how thoroughly this strange production of Ebionite Christianity is saturated with Essene ideas[^[391]].

(ii) The Essene worship of the Sun cannot be explained away.

(ii) Nor again is Frankel successful in explaining the Essene prayers to the sun by rabbinical practices[^[392]]. Following Rapoport, he supposes that Josephus and Philo refer to the beautiful hymn of praise for the creation of light and the return of day, which forms part of the morning-prayer of the Jews to the present time[^[393]], and which seems to be enjoined in the Mishna itself[^[394]]; and this view has been adopted by many subsequent writers. But the language of Josephus is not satisfied by this explanation. For he says plainly (B.J. ii. 8. 5) that they addressed prayers to the sun[^[395]], and it is difficult to suppose that he has wantonly introduced a dash of paganism into his picture; nor indeed was there any adequate motive for his doing so. Similarly Philo relates of the Therapeutes (Vit. Cont. II, II. p. 485), that they ‘stand with their faces and their whole body towards the East, and when they see that the sun is risen, holding out their hands to heaven they pray for a happy day (εὐημερίαν) and for truth and for keen vision of reason (ὀξυωπίαν λογισμοῦ).’ And here again it is impossible to overlook the confirmation which these accounts receive from the history of certain Christian heretics deriving their descent from this Judaic sect. |The Sampsæans are an Essene sect,| Epiphanius (Hær. xix. 2, xx. 3, pp. 40 sq., 47) speaks of a sect called the Sampsæans or ‘Sun-worshippers[^[396]],’ as existing in his own time in Peræa on the borders of Moab and on the shores of the Dead Sea. He describes them as a remnant of the Ossenes (i.e. Essenes), who have accepted a spurious form of Christianity and are neither Jews nor Christians. This debased Christianity which they adopted is embodied, he tells us, in the pretended revelation of the Book of Elchasai, and dates from the time of Trajan[^[397]]. Elsewhere (xxx. 3, p. 127) he seems to use the terms Sampsæan, Ossene, and Elchasaite as synonymous (παρὰ τοῖς Σαμψηνοῖς καὶ Ὀσσηνοῖς καὶ Ἐλκεσσαίοις καλουμένοις). Now we happen to know something of this book of Elchasai, not only from Epiphanius himself (xix. 1 sq., p. 40 sq., xxx. 17, p. 141), but also from Hippolytus |as appears from their sacred book of Elchesai.| (Hær. ix. 13 sq.) who describes it at considerable length. From these accounts it appears that the principal feature in the book was the injunction of frequent bathings for the remission of sins (Hipp. Hær. ix. 13, 15 sq.). We are likewise told that it ‘anathematizes immolations and sacrifices (θυσίας καὶ (ιερουργίας) as being alien to God and certainly not offered to God by tradition from (ἐκ) the fathers and the law,’ while at the same time it ‘says that men ought to pray there at Jerusalem, where the altar was and the sacrifices (were offered), prohibiting the eating of flesh which exists among the Jews, and the rest (of their customs), and the altar and the fire, as being alien to God’ (Epiphan. xix. 3, p. 42). Notwithstanding, |Its Essene peculiarities.| we are informed that the sect retained the rite of circumcision, the observance of the sabbath, and other practices of the Mosaic law (Hipp. Hær. ix. 14; Epiph. Hær. xix. 5, p. 43, comp. xxx. 17, p. 141). This inconsistency is explained by a further notice in Epiphanius (l.c.) that they treated the Scriptures in the same way as the Nasaræans[^[398]]; that is, they submitted them to a process of arbitrary excision, as recommended in the Clementine Homilies, and thus rejected as falsifications all statements which did not square with their own theory. Hippolytus also speaks of the Elchasaites as studying astrology and magic, and as practising charms and incantations on the sick and the demoniacs (§ 14). Moreover in two formularies, one of expiation, another of purification, which this father has extracted from the book, invocation is made to ‘the holy spirits and the angels of prayer’ (§ 15, comp. Epiph. xix. 1). It should be added that the word Elchasai probably signifies the ‘hidden power’[^[399]]; while the book itself directed that its mysteries should be guarded as precious pearls, and should not be communicated to the world at large, but only to the faithful few (Hipp. ix. 15, 17). It is hardly necessary to call attention to the number of Essene features which are here combined[^[400]]. I would only remark that the value of the notice is not at all diminished, but rather enhanced, by the uncritical character of Epiphanius’ work; for this very fact prevents us from ascribing the coincidences, which here reveal themselves, to this father’s own invention.

Doubtful bearing of this Sun-worship.

In this heresy we have plainly the dregs of Essenism, which has only been corrupted from its earlier and nobler type by the admixture of a spurious Christianity. But how came the Essenes to be called Sampsæans? What was the original meaning of this outward reverence which they paid to the sun? Did they regard it merely as the symbol of Divine illumination, just as Philo frequently treats it as a type of God, the centre of all light (e.g. de Somn. i. 13 sq., I. p. 631 sq.), and even calls the heavenly bodies ‘visible and sensible gods’ (de Mund. Op. 7, I. p. 6)[^[401]]? Or did they honour the light, as the pure ethereal element in contrast to gross terrestrial matter, according to a suggestion of a recent writer[^[402]]? |The practice repugnant to Jewish orthodoxy.|Whatever may have been the motive of this reverence, it is strangely repugnant to the spirit of orthodox Judaism. In Ezek. viii. 16 it is denounced as an abomination, that men shall turn towards the east and worship the sun; and accordingly in Berakhoth 7a, a saying of R. Meir is reported to the effect that God is angry when the sun appears and the kings of the East and the West prostrate themselves before this luminary[^[403]]. We cannot fail therefore to recognise the action of some foreign influence in this Essene practice—whether Greek or Syrian or Persian, it will be time to consider hereafter.

(iii) The depreciation of marriage not accounted for.

(iii) On the subject of marriage again, talmudical and rabbinical notices contribute nothing towards elucidating the practices of this sect. Least of all do they point to any affinity between the Essenes and the Pharisees. The nearest resemblance, which Frankel can produce, to any approximation in this respect is an injunction in Mishna Kethuboth v. 8 respecting the duties of the husband in providing for the wife in case of his separating from her, and this he ascribes to Essene influences[^[404]]; but this mishna does not express any approval of such a separation. The direction seems to be framed entirely in the interests of the wife: nor can I see that it is at all inconsistent, as Frankel urges, with Mishna Kethuboth vii. 1 which allows her to claim a divorce under such circumstances. But however this may be, Essene and Pharisaic opinion stand generally in the sharpest contrast to each other with respect to marriage. The talmudic writings teem with passages implying not only the superior sanctity, but even the imperative duty, of marriage. The words ‘Be fruitful and multiply’ (Gen. i. 28) were regarded not merely as a promise, but as a command, which was binding on all. It is a maxim of the Talmud that ‘Any Jew who has not a wife is no man’ (אינו אדם,) Yebamoth 63a. The fact indeed is so patent, that any accumulation of examples would be superfluous, and I shall content myself with referring to Pesachim 113a, b, as fairly illustrating the doctrine of orthodox Judaism on this point[^[405]]. As this question affects the whole framework not only of religious, but also of social life, the antagonism between the Essene and the Pharisee in a matter so vital could not be overlooked.

(iv) The Essene practice of magic still a difficulty.

(iv) Nor again is it probable that the magical rites and incantations which are so prominent in the practice of the Essenes would, as a rule, have been received with any favour by the Pharisaic Jew. In Mishna Pesachim iv. 9 (comp. Berakhoth 10b) it is mentioned with approval that Hezekiah put away a ‘book of healings’; where doubtless the author of the tradition had in view some volume of charms ascribed to Solomon, like those which apparently formed part of the esoteric literature of the Essenes[^[406]]. In the same spirit in Mishna Sanhedrin xi. 1 R. Akiba shuts out from the hope of eternal life any ‘who read profane or foreign (i.e. perhaps, apocryphal) books, and who mutter over a wound’ the words of Exod. xv. 26. On this point of difference however no great stress can be laid. Though the nobler teachers among the orthodox Jews set themselves steadfastly against the introduction of magic, they were unable to resist the inpouring tide of superstition. In the middle of the second century Justin Martyr alludes to exorcists and magicians among the Jews, as though they were neither few nor obscure[^[407]]. Whether these were a remnant of Essene Judaism, or whether such practices had by this time spread throughout the whole body, it is impossible to say; but the fact of their existence prevents us from founding an argument on the use of magic, as an absolutely distinctive feature of Essenism.

General result.

Other divergences also have been enumerated[^[408]]; but, as these do not for the most part involve any great principles, and refer only to practical details in which much fluctuation was possible, they cannot under any circumstances be taken as crucial tests, and I have not thought it worth while to discuss them. But the antagonisms on which I have dwelt will tell their own tale. In three respects more especially, in the avoidance of marriage, in the abstention from the temple sacrifices, and (if the view which I have adopted be correct) in the outward reverence paid to the sun, we have seen that there is an impassable gulf between the Essenes and the Pharisees. No known influences within the sphere of Judaism proper will serve to account for the position of the Essenes in these respects; and we are obliged to look elsewhere for an explanation.

---

Frankel has failed in establishing his point.

It was shown above that the investigations of Frankel and others failed to discover in the talmudical writings a single reference to the Essenes, which is at once direct and indisputable. It has now appeared that they have also failed (and this is the really important point) in showing that the ideas and practices generally considered characteristic of the Essenes are recognised and incorporated in these representative books of Jewish orthodoxy; and thus the hypothesis that Essenism was merely a type, though an exaggerated type, of pure Judaism falls to the ground.

Affinities between Essenes and Pharisees confined to the Judaic side.

Some affinities indeed have been made out by Frankel and by those who have anticipated or followed him. But these are exactly such as we might have expected. Two distinct features combine to make up the portrait of the Essene. The Judaic element is quite as prominent in this sect as the non-Judaic. It could not be more strongly emphasized than in the description given by Josephus himself. In everything therefore which relates to the strictly Judaic side of their tenets and practices, we should expect to discover not only affinities, but even close affinities, in talmudic and rabbinic authorities. And this is exactly what, as a matter of fact, we do find. The Essene rules respecting the observance of the sabbath, the rites of lustration, and the like, have often very exact parallels in the writings of more orthodox Judaism. But I have not thought it necessary to dwell on these coincidences, because they may well be taken for granted and my immediate purpose did not require me to emphasize them.

The divergence of the Essenes from the Pharisees gradual.

And again; it must be remembered that the separation between Pharisee and Essene cannot always have been so great as it appears in the Apostolic age. Both sects apparently arose out of one great movement, of which the motive was the avoidance of pollution[^[409]]. The divergence therefore must have been gradual. At the same time, it does not seem a very profitable task to write a hypothetical history of the growth of Essenism, where the data are wanting; and I shall therefore abstain from the attempt. Frankel indeed has not been deterred by this difficulty; but he has been obliged to assume his data by postulating that such and such a person, of whom notices are preserved, was an Essene, and thence inferring the character of Essenism at the period in question from his recorded sayings or doings. But without attempting any such reconstruction of history, we may fairly allow that there must have been a gradual development; and consequently in the earlier stages of its growth we should not expect to find that sharp antagonism between the two sects, which the principles of the Essenes when fully matured would involve. |Hence the possibility of their appearing in the records of orthodox Judaism.| If therefore it should be shown that the talmudical and rabbinical writings here and there preserve with approval the sayings of certain Essenes, this fact would present no difficulty. At present however no decisive example has been produced; and the discoveries of Jellinek for instance[^[410]], who traces the influence of this sect in almost every page of Pirke Aboth, can only be regarded as another illustration of the extravagance with which the whole subject has been treated by a large section of modern Jewish writers. More to the point is a notice of an earlier Essene preserved in Josephus himself. We learn from this historian that one Judas, a member of the sect, who had prophesied the death of Antigonus, saw this prince ‘passing by through the temple[^[411]],’ when his prophecy was on the point of fulfilment (about B.C. 110). At this moment Judas is represented as sitting in the midst of his disciples, instructing them in the science of prediction. The expression quoted would seem to imply that he was actually teaching within the temple area. Thus he would appear not only as mixing in the ordinary life of the Jews, but also as frequenting the national sanctuary. But even supposing this to be the right explanation of the passage, it will not present any serious difficulty. Even at a later date, when (as we may suppose) the principles of the sect had stiffened, the scruples of the Essene were directed, if I have rightly interpreted the account of Josephus, rather against the sacrifices than against the locality[^[412]]. The temple itself, independently of its accompaniments, would not suggest any offence to his conscience.

The approbation of Philo and Josephus is no evidence of orthodoxy.

Nor again, is it any obstacle to the view which is here maintained, that the Essenes are regarded with so much sympathy by Philo and Josephus themselves. Even though the purity of Judaism might have been somewhat sullied in this sect by the admixture of foreign elements, this fact would attract rather than repel an eclectic like Philo, and a latitudinarian like Josephus. The former, as an Alexandrian, absorbed into his system many and diverse elements of heathen philosophy, Platonic, Stoic, and Pythagorean. The latter, though professedly a Pharisee, lost no opportunity of ingratiating himself with his heathen conquerors, and would not be unwilling to gratify their curiosity respecting a society with whose fame, as we infer from the notice of Pliny, they were already acquainted.

---

What was the foreign element in Essenism?

But if Essenism owed the features which distinguished it from Pharisaic Judaism to an alien admixture, whence were these foreign influences derived? From the philosophers of Greece or from the religious mystics of the East? On this point recent writers are divided.

Theory of Neopythagorean influence.

Those who trace the distinctive characteristics of the sect to Greece, regard it as an offshoot of the Neopythagorean School grafted on the stem of Judaism. This solution is suggested by the statement of Josephus, that ‘they practise the mode of life which among the Greeks was introduced (καταδεδειγμένῃ) by Pythagoras[^[413]].’ It is thought to be confirmed by the strong resemblances which as a matter of fact are found to exist between the institutions and practices of the two.

Statement of the theory by Zeller.

This theory, which is maintained also by other writers, as for instance by Baur and Herzfeld, has found its ablest and most persistent advocate in Zeller, who draws out the parallels with great force and precision. ‘The Essenes,’ he writes, ‘like the Pythagoreans, desire to attain a higher sanctity by an ascetic life; and the abstentions, which they impose on themselves for this end, are the same with both. They reject animal food and bloody sacrifices; they avoid wine, warm baths, and oil for anointing; they set a high value on celibate life: or, so far as they allow marriage, they require that it be restricted to the one object of procreating children. Both wear only white garments and consider linen purer than wool. Washings and purifications are prescribed by both, though for the Essenes they have a yet higher significance as religious acts. Both prohibit oaths and (what is more) on the same grounds. Both find their social ideal in those institutions, which indeed the Essenes alone set themselves to realise—in a corporate life with entire community of goods, in sharply defined orders of rank, in the unconditional submission of all the members to their superiors, in a society carefully barred from without, into which new members are received only after a severe probation of several years, and from which the unworthy are inexorably excluded. Both require a strict initiation, both desire |Zeller’s theory.| to maintain a traditional doctrine inviolable; both pay the highest respect to the men from whom it was derived, as instruments of the deity: yet both also love figurative clothing for their doctrines, and treat the old traditions as symbols of deeper truths, which they must extract from them by means of allegorical explanation. In order to prove the later form of teaching original, newly-composed writings were unhesitatingly forged by the one as by the other, and fathered upon illustrious names of the past. Both parties pay honour to divine powers in the elements, both invoke the rising sun, both seek to withdraw everything unclean from his sight, and with this view give special directions, in which they agree as well with each other as with older Greek superstition, in a remarkable way. For both the belief in intermediate beings between God and the world has an importance which is higher in proportion as their own conception of God is purer; both appear not to have disdained magic; yet both regard the gift of prophecy as the highest fruit of wisdom and piety, which they pique themselves on possessing in their most distinguished members. Finally, both agree (along with the dualistic character of their whole conception of the world ...) in their tenets respecting the origin of the soul, its relation to the body, and the life after death[^[414]]....’

Absence of distinctive Pythagorean features in the Essenes.

This array of coincidences is formidable, and thus skilfully marshalled might appear at first sight invincible. But a closer examination detracts from its value. In the first place the two distinctive characteristics of the Pythagorean philosophy are wanting to the Essenes. The Jewish sect did not believe in the transmigration of souls; and the doctrine of numbers, at least so far as our information goes, had no place in their system. Yet these constitute the very essence of the Pythagorean teaching. In the next place several of the coincidences are more apparent than real. Thus |The coincidences are in some cases only apparent,| for instance the demons who in the Pythagorean system held an intermediate place between the Supreme God and man, and were the result of a compromise between polytheism and philosophy, have no near relation to the angelology of the Essenes, which arose out of a wholly different motive. Nor again can we find distinct traces among the Pythagoreans of any such reverence for the sun as is ascribed to the Essenes, the only notice which is adduced having no prominence whatever in its own context, and referring to a rule which would be dictated by natural decency and certainly was not peculiar to the Pythagoreans[^[415]]. When these imperfect and (for the purpose) valueless resemblances have been subtracted, the only basis on which the theory of a direct affiliation can rest is withdrawn. All the remaining coincidences are unimportant. Thus the respect paid to founders is not confined to any one sect or any one age. The reverence of the Essenes for Moses, and the reverence of the Pythagoreans for Pythagoras, are indications of a common humanity, but not of a common philosophy. And again the forgery of supposititious documents is unhappily not the badge of any one school. The Solomonian books of the Essenes, so far as we can judge from the extant notices, were about as unlike the tracts ascribed to Pythagoras and his disciples by the Neopythagoreans as two such forgeries could well be. All or nearly all that remains in common to the Greek school and the Jewish sect after these deductions is |and in others do not suggest any historical connexion.| a certain similarity in the type of life. But granted that two bodies of men each held an esoteric teaching of their own, they would secure it independently in a similar way, by a recognised process of initiation, by a solemn form of oath, by a rigid distinction of orders. Granted also, that they both maintained the excellence of an ascetic life, their asceticism would naturally take the same form; they would avoid wine and flesh; they would abstain from anointing themselves with oil; they would depreciate, and perhaps altogether prohibit, marriage. Unless therefore the historical conditions are themselves favourable to a direct and immediate connexion between the Pythagoreans and the Essenes, this theory of affiliation has little to recommend it.

Twofold objection to this theory.

And a closer examination must pronounce them to be most unfavourable. Chronology and geography alike present serious obstacles to any solution which derives the peculiarities of the Essenes from the Pythagoreans.

(i) Chronological facts are adverse.

(i) The priority of time, if it can be pleaded on either side, must be urged in favour of the Essenes. The Pythagoreans as a philosophical school entirely disappear from history before the middle of the fourth century before Christ. The last Pythagoreans were scholars of Philolaus and Eurytus, the contemporaries of Socrates and Plato[^[416]]. For nearly two centuries after their extinction we hear |Disappearance of the Pythagoreans.| nothing of them. Here and there persons like Diodorus of Aspendus are satirised by the Attic poets of the middle comedy as ‘pythagorizers,’ in other words, as total abstainers and vegetarians[^[417]]; but the philosophy had wholly died or was fast dying out. This is the universal testimony of ancient writers. It is not till the first century before Christ, that we meet with any distinct traces of a revival. In Alexander Polyhistor[^[418]], a younger contemporary of Sulla, for the first time we find references to certain writings, which would seem to have emanated from this incipient Neopythagoreanism, rather than from the elder school of Pythagoreans. And a little later Cicero commends his friend Nigidius Figulus as one specially raised up to revive the extinct philosophy[^[419]]. But so slow or so chequered was its progress, that a whole century after Seneca can still speak of the |Priority of Essenism to Neopythagoreanism.| school as practically defunct[^[420]]. Yet long before this the Essenes formed a compact, well-organized, numerous society with a peculiar system of doctrine and a definite rule of life. We have seen that Pliny the elder speaks of this celibate society as having existed ‘through thousands of ages[^[421]].’ This is a gross exaggeration, but it must at least be taken to imply that in Pliny’s time the origin of the Essenes was lost in the obscurity of the past, or at least seemed so to those who had not access to special sources of information. If, as I have given reasons for supposing[^[422]], Pliny’s authority in this passage is the same Alexander Polyhistor to whom I have just referred, and if this particular statement, however exaggerated in expression, is derived from him, the fact becomes still more significant. But on any showing the priority in time is distinctly in favour of the Essenes as against the Neopythagoreans.

The Essene tenets more developed than the Neopythagorean.

And accordingly we find that what is only a tendency in the Neopythagoreans is with the Essenes an avowed principle and a definite rule of life. Such for instance is the case with celibacy, of which Pliny says that it has existed as an institution among the Essenes per sæculorum millia, and which is a chief corner-stone of their practical system. The Pythagorean notices (whether truly or not, it is unimportant for my purpose to enquire) speak of Pythagoras as having a wife and a daughter[^[423]]. Only at a late date do we find the attempt to represent their founder in another light; and if virginity is ascribed to Apollonius of Tyana, the great Pythagorean of the first Christian century, in the fictitious biography of Philostratus[^[424]], this representation is plainly due to the general plan of the novelist, whose hero is intended to rival the Founder of Christianity, and whose work is saturated with Christian ideas. In fact virginity can never be said to have been a Pythagorean principle, though it may have been an exalted ideal of some not very early adherents of the school. And the same remark applies to other resemblances between the Essene and Neopythagorean teaching. The clearness of conception and the definiteness of practice are in almost every instance on the side of the Essenes; so that, looking to the comparative chronology of the two, it will appear almost inconceivable that they can have derived their principles from the Neopythagoreans.

(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]].

(ii) James the Lord’s Brother

(ii) But, if great weight has been attached to the supposed connexion of John the Baptist with the Essenes, the case of James the Lord’s brother has been alleged with still more confidence. Here, it is said, we have an indisputable Essene connected by the closest family ties with the Founder of Christianity. |invested with Essene characteristics.|James is reported to have been holy from his birth; to have drunk no wine nor strong drink; to have eaten no flesh; to have allowed no razor to touch his head, no oil to anoint his body; to have abstained from using the bath; and lastly to have worn no wool, but only fine linen[^[488]]. Here we have a description of Nazarite practices at least and (must it not be granted) of Essene tendencies also.

But what is our authority for this description? The writer, from whom the account is immediately taken, is the Jewish-Christian historian Hegesippus, who flourished about A.D. 170. He cannot therefore have been an eye-witness of the facts which he relates. |But the account comes from untrustworthy sources.|And his whole narrative betrays its legendary character. Thus his account of James’s death, which follows immediately on this description, is highly improbable and melodramatic in itself, and directly contradicts the contemporary notice of Josephus in its main facts[^[489]]. From whatever source therefore Hegesippus may have derived his information, it is wholly untrustworthy. Nor can we doubt that he was indebted to one of those romances with which the Judaizing Christians of Essene tendencies loved to gratify the natural curiosity of their disciples respecting the first founders of the Church[^[490]]. In like manner Essene portraits are elsewhere preserved of the Apostles Peter[^[491]] and Matthew[^[492]], which represent them as living on a spare diet of herbs and berries. I believe also that I have elsewhere pointed out the true source of this description in Hegesippus, and that it is taken from the ‘Ascents of James[^[493]],’ a Judæo-Christian work stamped, as we happen to know, with the most distinctive Essene features[^[494]]. But if we turn from these religious novels of Judaic Christianity to earlier and more trustworthy sources of information—to the Gospels or the Acts or the Epistles of St Paul—we fail to discover the faintest traces of Essenism in James. |No Essene features in the true portraits of James or of the earliest disciples.|‘The historical James,’ says a recent writer, ‘shows Pharisaic but not Essene sympathies[^[495]].’ This is true of James, as it is true of the early disciples in the mother Church of Jerusalem generally. The temple-ritual, the daily-sacrifices, suggested no scruples to them. The only distinction of meats, which they recognised, was the distinction of animals clean and unclean as laid down by the Mosaic law. The only sacrificial victims, which they abhorred, were victims offered to idols. They took their part in the religious offices, and mixed freely in the common life, of their fellow-Israelites, distinguished from them only in this, that to their Hebrew inheritance they superadded the knowledge of a higher truth and the joy of a better hope. It was altogether within the sphere of orthodox Judaism that the Jewish element in the Christian brotherhood found its scope. Essene peculiarities are the objects neither of sympathy nor of antipathy. In the history of the infant Church for the first quarter of a century Essenism is as though it were not.

Essene influences visible before the close of the Apostolic age.

But a time came, when all this was changed. Even as early as the year 58, when St Paul wrote to the Romans, we detect practices in the Christian community of the metropolis, which may possibly have been due to Essene influences[^[496]]. Five or six years later, the heretical teaching which threatened the integrity of the Gospel at Colossæ shows that this type of Judaism was already strong enough within the Church to exert a dangerous influence on its doctrinal purity. Then came the great convulsion—the overthrow of the Jewish polity and nation. This was the turning-point in the relations between Essenism and Christianity, at least in Palestine. |Consequences of the Jewish war.|The Essenes were extreme sufferers in the Roman war of extermination. It seems probable that their organization was entirely broken up. Thus cast adrift, they were free to enter into other combinations, while the shock of the recent catastrophe would naturally turn their thoughts into new channels. At the same time the nearer proximity of the Christians, who had migrated to Peræa during the war, would bring them into close contact with the new faith and subject them to its influences, as they had never been subjected before[^[497]]. But, whatever may be the explanation, the fact seems certain, that after the destruction of Jerusalem the Christian body was largely reinforced from their ranks. The Judaizing tendencies among the Hebrew Christians, which hitherto had been wholly Pharisaic, are henceforth largely Essene.

2. Do the resemblances favour the theory of a connexion?

2. If then history fails to reveal any such external connexion with Essenism in Christ and His Apostles as to justify the opinion that Essene influences contributed largely to the characteristic features of the Gospel, such a view, if tenable at all, must find its support in some striking coincidence between the doctrines and practices of the Essenes and those which its Founder stamped upon Christianity. This indeed is the really important point; for without it the external connexion, even if proved, would be valueless. The question is not whether Christianity arose amid such and such circumstances, but how far it was created and moulded by those circumstances.

(i) Observance of the sabbath.

(i) Now one point which especially strikes us in the Jewish historian’s account of the Essenes, is their strict observance of certain points in the Mosaic ceremonial law, more especially the ultra-Pharisaic rigour with which they kept the sabbath. How far their conduct in this respect was consistent with the teaching and practice of Christ may be seen from the passages quoted in the parallel columns which follow:

‘Jesus went on the sabbath-day through the corn fields; and his disciples began to pluck the ears of corn and to eat[^[498]].... But when the Pharisees saw it, they said unto him, ‘Behold, thy disciples do that which it is not lawful to do upon the sabbath-day. But he said unto them, Have ye not read what David did.... The sabbath was made for man, and not man for the sabbath. Therefore the Son of Man is Lord even of the sabbath-day....’

‘It is lawful to do well on the sabbath-days’ (Matt. xii. 1–12; Mark ii. 23.-iii. 6; Luke vi. 1–11, xiv. 1–6. See also a similar incident in Luke xiii. 10–17). ‘The Jews therefore said unto him that was cured; It is the sabbath-day; it is not lawful for thee to carry thy bed. But he answered them, He that made me whole, the same said unto me, Take up thy bed and walk.... Therefore the Jews did persecute Jesus and sought to slay him, because he did these things on the sabbath-day. But Jesus answered them, My Father worketh hitherto, and I work, etc. (John v. 10–18; comp. vii. 22, 23).’ ‘And it was the sabbath-day when Jesus made the clay, and opened his eyes.... Therefore said some of the Pharisees, This man is not of God, because he keepeth not the sabbath-day (John ix. 14, 16).’

‘And they avoid ... touching any work (ἐφάπτεσθαι ἔργων) on the sabbath-day more scrupulously than any of the Jews (διαφορώτατα Ἰουδαίων ἁπάντων); for they do not venture so much as to move a vessel[^[499]], nor to perform the most necessary offices of life (B.J. ii. 8. 9).’

(ii) Lustrations and other ceremonial observances.

(ii) But there were other points of ceremonial observance, in which the Essenes superadded to the law. Of these the most remarkable was their practice of constant lustrations. In this respect the Pharisee was sufficiently minute and scrupulous in his observances; but with the Essene these ablutions were the predominant feature of his religious ritual. Here again it will be instructive to compare the practice of Christ and His disciples with the practice of the Essenes.

‘And when they saw some of his disciples eat bread with defiled (that is to say, unwashen) hands; for the Pharisees and all the Jews, except they wash their hands oft (πυγμῇ), eat not...The Pharisees and scribes asked him, Why walk not thy disciples according to the tradition of the elders.... But he answered ... Ye hypocrites, laying aside the commandment of God, ye hold the tradition of men....’

‘Not that which goeth into the mouth defileth the man; but that which cometh out of the mouth, this defileth the man.... Let them alone, they be blind leaders of the blind....’

‘To eat with unwashen hands defileth not the man (Matt. xv. 1–20, Mark vii. 1–23).’

‘So they wash their whole body (ἀπολούονται τὸ σῶμα) in cold water; and after this purification (ἁγνείαν) ... being clean (καθαροὶ) they come to the refectory (to dine).... And when they have returned (from their day’s work) they sup in like manner (B.J. ii. 8. 5).’

‘After a year’s probation (the novice) is admitted to closer intercourse (πρόσεισιν ἔγγιον τῇ διαίτῃ), and the lustral waters in which he participates have a higher degree of purity (καὶ καθαρωτέρων τῶν πρὸς ἁγνείαν ὑδάτων μεταλαμβάνει, § 7).’

‘It is a custom to wash after it, as if polluted by it (§ 9).’

‘And when the Pharisee saw it, he marvelled that he had not first washed before dinner (τοῦ ἀρίστου). And the Lord said unto him: Now do ye Pharisees make clean the outside of the cup and the platter.... Ye fools ... behold all things are clean unto you (Luke xi. 38–41).’

‘Racked and dislocated, burnt and crushed, and subjected to every instrument of torture ... to make them eat strange food (τι τῶν ἀσυνήθων) ... they were not induced to submit (§ 10).’

‘Exercising themselves in ... divers lustrations (διαφόροις ἁγνείαις ... ἐμπαιδοτριβούμενοι, § 12).’

Avoidance of strangers.

Connected with this idea of external purity is the avoidance of contact with strangers, as persons who would communicate ceremonial defilement. And here too the Essene went much beyond the Pharisee. The Pharisee avoided Gentiles or aliens, or those whose profession or character placed them in the category of ‘sinners’; but the Essene shrunk even from the probationers and inferior grades of his own exclusive community. Here again we may profitably compare the sayings and doings of Christ with the principles of this sect.

‘And when the scribes and Pharisees saw him eat with the publicans and sinners they said unto the disciples, Why eateth your Master with the publicans and the sinners....’ (Mark ii. 15 sq.; Matth. ix. 10 sq., Luke v. 30 sq.)

‘They say ... a friend of publicans and sinners (Matth. xi. 19).’

‘The Pharisees and the scribes murmured, saying, This man receiveth sinners and eateth with them (Luke xv. 2).’

‘They all murmured saying that he was gone to be a guest with a man that is a sinner (Luke xix. 7).’

‘Behold, a woman in the city that was a sinner ... began to wash his feet with her tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head and kissed his feet.... Now when the Pharisee which had bidden him saw it, he spake within himself saying, This man, if he had been a prophet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him; for she is a sinner (Luke vii. 37 sq.).’

‘And after this purification they assemble in a private room, where no person of a different belief (τῶν ἑτεροδόξων, i.e. not an Essene) is permitted to enter; and (so) being by themselves and clean (αὐτοὶ καθαροὶ) they present themselves at the refectory (δειπνητήριον), as if it were a sacred precinct (§ 5).’

‘And they are divided into four grades according to the time passed under the discipline: and the juniors are regarded as so far inferior to the seniors, that, if they touch them, the latter wash their bodies clean (ἀπολούεσθαι), as if they had come in contact with a foreigner (καθάπερ ἀλλοφύλῳ συμφυρέντας, § 10).’

In all these minute scruples relating to ceremonial observances, the denunciations which are hurled against the Pharisees in the Gospels would apply with tenfold force to the Essenes.

(iii) Asceticism.

(iii) If the lustrations of the Essenes far outstripped the enactments of the Mosaic law, so also did their asceticism. I have given reasons above for believing that this asceticism was founded on a false principle, which postulates the malignity of matter and is wholly inconsistent with the teaching of the Gospel[^[500]]. But without pressing this point, of which no absolutely demonstrative proof can be given, it will be sufficient to call attention to the trenchant contrast in practice which Essene habits present to the life of Christ. He who ‘came eating and drinking’ and was denounced in consequence as ‘a glutton and a wine-bibber’[^[501]], |Eating and drinking.|He whose first exercise of power is recorded to have been the multiplication of wine at a festive entertainment, and whose last meal was attended with the drinking of wine and the eating of flesh, could only have excited the pity, if not the indignation, of these rigid abstainers. And again, attention should be directed to another kind of abstinence, where the contrast is all the more speaking, because the matter is so trivial and the scruple so minute.

‘My head with oil thou didst not anoint (Luke vii. 46).’

‘Thou, when thou fastest, anoint thy head (Matt. vi. 17).’

‘And they consider oil a pollution (κηλῖδα), and though one is smeared involuntarily, he rubs his body clean (σμήχεται τὸ σῶμα, § 3).’

And yet it has been stated that ‘the Saviour of the world ... showed what is required for a holy life in the Sermon on the Mount by a description of the Essenes[^[502]].’

Celibacy.

But much stress has been laid on the celibacy of the Essenes; and our Lord’s saying in Matt. xix. 12 is quoted to establish an identity of doctrine. Yet there is nothing special in the language there used. Nor is there any close affinity between the stern invectives against marriage which Josephus and Philo attribute to the Essene, and the gentle concession ‘He that is able to receive it, let him receive it.’ The best comment on our Lord’s meaning here is the advice of St Paul[^[503]], who was educated not in the Essene, but in the Pharisaic school. Moreover this saying must be balanced by the general tenour of the Gospel narrative. When we find Christ discussing the relations of man and wife, gracing the marriage festival by His presence, again and again employing wedding banquets and wedded life as apt symbols of the highest theological truths, without a word of disparagement or rebuke, we see plainly that we are confronted with a spirit very different from the narrow rigour of the Essenes.

(iv) Avoidance of the Temple sacrifices.

(iv) But not only where the Essenes superadded to the ceremonial law, does their teaching present a direct contrast to the phenomena of the Gospel narrative. The same is true also of those points in which they fell short of the Mosaic enactments. I have already discussed at some length the Essene abstention from the temple sacrifices[^[504]]. There can, I think, be little doubt that they objected to the slaughter of sacrificial victims altogether. But for my present purpose it matters nothing whether they avoided the temple on account of the sacrifices, or the sacrifices on account of the temple. Christ did neither. Certainly He could not have regarded the temple as unholy; for his whole time during his sojourns at Jerusalem was spent within its precincts. It was the scene of His miracles, of His ministrations, of His daily teaching[^[505]]. And in like manner it is the common rendezvous of His disciples after Him[^[506]]. Nor again does He evince any abhorrence of the sacrifices. On the contrary He says that the altar consecrates the gifts[^[507]]; He charges the cleansed lepers to go and fulfil the Mosaic ordinance and offer the sacrificial offerings to the priests[^[508]]. |Practice of Christ and His disciples.|And His practice also is conformable to His teaching. He comes to Jerusalem regularly to attend the great festivals, where sacrifices formed the most striking part of the ceremonial, and He himself enjoins preparation to be made for the sacrifice of the Paschal lamb. If He repeats the inspired warning of the older prophets, that mercy is better than sacrifice[^[509]], this very qualification shows approval of the practice in itself. Nor is His silence less eloquent than His utterances or His actions. Throughout the Gospels there is not one word which can be construed as condemning the sacrificial system or as implying a desire for its cessation until everything is fulfilled.

(v) Denial of the resurrection of the body.

(v) This last contrast refers to the ceremonial law. But not wide is the divergence on an important point of doctrine. The resurrection of the body is a fundamental article in the belief of the early disciples. This was distinctly denied by the Essenes[^[510]]. However gross and sensuous may have been the conceptions of the Pharisees on this point, still they so far agreed with the teaching of Christianity, as against the Essenes, in that the risen man could not, as they held, be pure soul or spirit, but must necessarily be body and soul conjoint.

Some supposed coincidences considered.

Thus at whatever point we test the teaching and practice of our Lord by the characteristic tenets of Essenism, the theory of affinity fails. There are indeed several coincidences on which much stress has been laid, but they cannot be placed in the category of distinctive features. They are either exemplifications of a higher morality, which may indeed have been honourably illustrated in the Essenes, but is in no sense confined to them, being the natural outgrowth of the moral sense of mankind whenever circumstances are favourable. Or they are more special, but still independent developments, which owe their similarity to the same influences of climate and soil, though they do not spring from the same root. To this latter class belong such manifestations as are due to the social conditions of the age or nation, whether they result from sympathy with, or from repulsion to, those conditions.

Simplicity and brotherly love.

Thus, for instance, much stress has been laid on the aversion to war and warlike pursuits, on the simplicity of living, and on the feeling of brotherhood which distinguished Christians and Essenes alike. But what is gained by all this? It is quite plain that Christ would have approved whatever was pure and lovely in the morality of the Essenes, just as He approved whatever was true in the doctrine of the Pharisees, if any occasion had presented itself when His approval was called for. But it is the merest assumption to postulate direct obligation on such grounds. It is said however, that the moral resemblances are more particular than this. |Prohibition of oaths.|There is for instance Christ’s precept ‘Swear not at all ... but let your communication be Yea, yea, Nay, nay.’ Have we not here, it is urged, the very counterpart to the Essene prohibition of oaths[^[511]]? Yet it would surely be quite as reasonable to say that both alike enforce that simplicity and truthfulness in conversation which is its own credential and does not require the support of adjuration, both having the same reason for laying stress on this duty, because the leaders of religious opinion made artificial distinctions between oath and oath, as regards their binding force, and thus sapped the foundations of public and private honesty[^[512]]. And indeed this avoidance of oaths is anything but a special badge of the Essenes. It was inculcated by Pythagoreans, by Stoics, by philosophers and moralists of all schools[^[513]]. When Josephus and Philo called the attention of Greeks and Romans to this feature in the Essenes, they were simply asking them to admire in these practical philosophers among the ‘barbarians’ the realisation of an ideal which their own great men had laid down. Even within the circles of Pharisaism language is occasionally heard, which meets the Essene principle half-way[^[514]].

Community of goods.

And again; attention has been called to the community of goods in the infant Church of Christ, as though this were a legacy of Essenism. But here too the reasonable explanation is, that we have an independent attempt to realise the idea of brotherhood—an attempt which naturally suggested itself without any direct imitation, but which was soon abandoned under the pressure of circumstances. Indeed the communism of the Christians was from the first wholly unlike the communism of the Essenes. The surrender of property with the Christians was not a necessary condition of entrance into an order; it was a purely voluntary act, which might be withheld without foregoing the privileges of the brotherhood[^[515]]. And the common life too was obviously different in kind, at once more free and more sociable, unfettered by rigid ordinances, respecting individual liberty, and altogether unlike a monastic rule.

Not less irrelevant is the stress, which has been laid on another point of supposed coincidence in the social doctrines of the two communities. |Prohibition of slavery.|The prohibition of slavery was indeed a highly honourable feature in the Essene order[^[516]], but it affords no indication of a direct connexion with Christianity. It is true that this social institution of antiquity was not less antagonistic to the spirit of the Gospel, than it was abhorrent to the feelings of the Essene; and ultimately the influence of Christianity has triumphed over it. But the immediate treatment of the question was altogether different in the two cases. The Essene brothers proscribed slavery wholly; they produced no appreciable results by the proscription. The Christian Apostles, without attempting an immediate and violent revolution in society, proclaimed the great principle that all men are equal in Christ, and left it to work. It did work, like leaven, silently but surely, till the whole lump was leavened. In the matter of slavery the resemblance to the Stoic is much closer than to the Essene[^[517]]. The Stoic however began and ended in barren declamation, and no practical fruits were reaped from his doctrine.

Respect paid to poverty.

Moreover prominence has been given to the fact, that riches are decried, and a preference is given to the poor, in the teaching of our Lord and His Apostles. Here again, it is urged, we have a distinctly Essene feature. We need not stop to enquire with what limitations this prerogative of poverty, which appears in the Gospels, must be interpreted; but, quite independently of this question, we may fairly decline to lay any stress on such a coincidence, where all other indications of a direct connexion have failed. The Essenes, pursuing a simple and ascetic life, made it their chief aim to reduce their material wants as far as possible, and in doing so they necessarily exalted poverty. Ascetic philosophers in Greece and Rome had done the same. Christianity was entrusted with the mission of proclaiming the equal rights of all men before God, of setting a truer standard of human worth than the outward conventions of the world, of protesting against the tyranny of the strong and the luxury of the rich, of redressing social inequalities, if not always by a present compensation, at least by a future hope. The needy and oppressed were the special charge of its preachers. It was the characteristic feature of the ‘Kingdom of Heaven,’ as described by the prophet whose words gave the keynote to the Messianic hopes of the nation, that the glad-tidings should be preached to the poor[^[518]]. The exaltation of poverty therefore was an absolute condition of the Gospel.

The preaching of the Kingdom wrongly ascribed to the Essenes.

The mention of the kingdom of heaven leads to the last point on which it will be necessary to touch before leaving this subject. ‘The whole ascetic life of the Essenes,’ it has been said, ‘aimed only at furthering the Kingdom of Heaven and the Coming Age.’ Thus John the Baptist was the proper representative of this sect. ‘From the Essenes went forth the first call that the Messiah must shortly appear, The kingdom of heaven is at hand’[^[519]]. ‘The announcement of the kingdom of heaven unquestionably went forth from the Essenes’[^[520]]. For this confident assertion there is absolutely no foundation in fact; and, as a conjectural hypothesis, the assumption is highly improbable.

The Essenes not prophets, but fortune-tellers.

As fortune-tellers or soothsayers, the Essenes might be called prophets; but as preachers of righteousness, as heralds of the kingdom, they had no claim to the title. Throughout the notices in Josephus and Philo we cannot trace the faintest indication of Messianic hopes. Nor indeed was their position at all likely to foster such hopes[^[521]]. The Messianic idea was built on a belief in the resurrection of the body. The Essenes entirely denied this doctrine. The Messianic idea was intimately bound up with the national hopes and sufferings, with the national life, of the Jews. The Essenes had no interest in the Jewish polity; they separated themselves almost entirely from public affairs. |They had no vivid Messianic expectations.|The deliverance of the individual is the shipwreck of the whole, it has been well said, was the plain watchword of Essenism[^[522]]. How entirely the conception of a Messiah might be obliterated, where Judaism was regarded only from the side of a mystic philosophy, we see from the case of Philo. Throughout the works of this voluminous writer only one or two faint and doubtful allusions to a personal Messiah are found[^[523]]. The philosophical tenets of the Essenes no doubt differed widely from those of Philo; but in the substitution of the individual and contemplative aspect of religion for the national and practical they were united; and the effect in obscuring the Messianic idea would be the same. When therefore it is said that the prominence given to the proclamation of the Messiah’s kingdom is a main link which connects Essenism and Christianity, we may dismiss the statement as a mere hypothesis, unsupported by evidence and improbable in itself.

---

III.
CHARACTER AND CONTENTS OF THE EPISTLE.

The understanding of the heresy necessary.

Without the preceding investigation the teaching of this epistle would be very imperfectly understood; for its direction was necessarily determined by the occasion which gave rise to it. Only when we have once grasped the nature of the doctrine which St Paul is combating, do we perceive that every sentence is instinct with life and meaning.

The errors though twofold sprang from one root.

We have seen that the error of the heretical teachers was twofold. They had a false conception in theology, and they had a false basis of morals. It has been pointed out also, that these two were closely connected together, and had their root in the same fundamental error, the idea of matter as the abode of evil and thus antagonistic to God.

So the answer to both is in the same truth.

As the two elements of the heretical doctrine were derived from the same source, so the reply to both was sought by the Apostle in the same idea, the conception of the Person of Christ as the one absolute mediator between God and man, the true and only reconciler of heaven and earth.

But though they are thus ultimately connected, yet it will be necessary for the fuller understanding of St Paul’s position to take them apart, and to consider first the theological and then the ethical teaching of the epistle.

1. The theological teaching of the heretics.

1. This Colossian heresy was no coarse and vulgar development of falsehood. It soared far above the Pharisaic Judaism which St Paul refutes in the Epistle to the Galatians. The questions in which it was interested lie at the very root of our religious consciousness. |Its lofty motive,|The impulse was given to its speculations by an overwhelming sense of the unapproachable majesty of God, by an instinctive recognition of the chasm which separates God from man, from the world, from matter. Its energy was sustained by the intense yearning after some mediation which might bridge over this chasm, might establish inter-communion between the finite and the Infinite. Up to this point it was deeply religious in the best sense of the term.

but complete failure.

The answer which it gave to these questions we have already seen. In two respects this answer failed signally. On the one hand it was drawn from the atmosphere of mystical speculation. It had no foundation in history, and made no appeal to experience. On the other hand, notwithstanding its complexity, it was unsatisfactory in its results; for in this plurality of mediators none was competent to meet the requirements of the case. God here and man there—no angel or spirit, whether one or more, being neither God nor man, could truly reconcile the two. Thus as regards credentials it was without a guarantee; while as regards efficiency it was wholly inadequate.

The Apostle’s answer is in the Person of Christ.

The Apostle pointed out to the Colossians a more excellent way. It was the one purpose of Christianity to satisfy those very yearnings which were working in their hearts, to solve that very problem which had exercised their minds. In Christ they would find the answer which they sought. His life—His cross and resurrection—was the guarantee; |The mediator in the world and in the Church.|His Person—the Word Incarnate—was the solution. He alone filled up, He alone could fill up, the void which lay between God and man, could span the gulf which separated the Creator and creation. This solution offered by the Gospel is as simple as it is adequate. To their cosmical speculations, and to their religious yearnings alike, Jesus Christ is the true answer. In the World, as in the Church, He is the one only mediator, the one only reconciler. This two-fold idea runs like a double thread through the fabric of the Apostle’s teaching in those passages of the epistle where he is describing the Person of Christ.

It will be convenient for the better understanding of St Paul’s teaching to consider these two aspects of Christ’s mediation apart—its function in the natural and in the spiritual order respectively.

(i) In the Universe.

(i) The heresy of the Colossian teachers took its rise, as we saw, in their cosmical speculations. It was therefore natural that the Apostle in replying should lay stress on the function of the Word in the creation and government of the world. This is the aspect of His work most prominent in the first of the two distinctly Christological passages. The Apostle there predicates of the Word, not only prior, but absolute existence. All things were created through Him, are sustained in Him, are tending towards Him. Thus He is the beginning, middle, and end, of creation. This He is, because He is the very image of the Invisible God, because in Him dwells the plenitude of Deity.

Importance of this aspect of the Person of Christ,

This creative and administrative work of Christ the Word in the natural order of things is always emphasized in the writings of the Apostles, when they touch upon the doctrine of His Person. It stands in the forefront of the prologue to St John’s Gospel: it is hardly less prominent in the opening of the Epistle to the Hebrews. His mediatorial function in the Church is represented as flowing from His mediatorial function in the world. With ourselves this idea has retired very much into the background. Though in the creed common to all the Churches we profess our belief in Him, as the Being ‘through whom all things were created,’ yet in reality this confession seems to exercise very little influence on our thoughts. And the loss is serious. How much our theological conceptions suffer in breadth and fulness by the neglect, a moment’s reflexion will show. How much more hearty would be the sympathy of theologians with the revelations of science and the developments of history, if they habitually connected them with the operation of the same Divine Word who is the centre of all their religious aspirations, it is needless to say. Through the recognition of this idea with all the consequences which flow from it, as a living influence, more than in any other way, may we hope to strike the chords of that ‘vaster music,’ which results only from the harmony of knowledge and faith, of reverence and research.

notwithstanding difficulties yet unsolved.

It will be said indeed, that this conception leaves untouched the philosophical difficulties which beset the subject; that creation still remains as much a mystery as before. This may be allowed. But is there any reason to think that with our present limited capacities the veil which shrouds it ever will be or can be removed? The metaphysical speculations of twenty-five centuries have done nothing to raise it. The physical investigations of our own age from their very nature can do nothing; for, busied with the evolution of phenomena, they lie wholly outside this question, and do not even touch the fringe of the difficulty. But meanwhile revelation has interposed and thrown out the idea, which, if it leaves many questions unsolved, gives a breadth and unity to our conceptions, at once satisfying our religious needs and linking our scientific instincts with our theological beliefs.

(ii) In the Church.

(ii) But, if Christ’s mediatorial office in the physical creation was the starting point of the Apostle’s teaching, His mediatorial office in the spiritual creation is its principal theme. The cosmogonies of the false teachers were framed not so much in the interests of philosophy as in the interests of religion; and the Apostle replies to them in the same spirit and with the same motive. If the function of Christ is unique in the Universe, so is it also in the Church. |Its absolute character.|He is the sole and absolute link between God and humanity. Nothing short of His personality would suffice as a medium of reconciliation between the two. Nothing short of His life and work in the flesh, as consummated in His passion, would serve as an assurance of God’s love and pardon. His cross is the atonement of mankind with God. He is the Head with whom all the living members of the body are in direct and immediate communication, who suggests their manifold activities to each, who directs their several functions in subordination to the healthy working of the whole, from whom they individually receive their inspiration and their strength.

Hence angelic mediations are fundamentally wrong.

And being all this He cannot consent to share His prerogative with others. He absorbs in Himself the whole function of mediation. Through Him alone, without any interposing link of communication, the human soul has access to the Father. Here was the true answer to those deep yearnings after spiritual communion with God, which sought, and could not find, satisfaction in the manifold and fantastic creations of a dreamy mysticism. The worship of angels might have the semblance of humility; but it was in fact a contemptuous defiance of the fundamental idea of the Gospel, a flat denial of the absolute character of Christ’s Person and office. It was a severance of the proper connexion with the Head, an amputation of the disordered limb, which was thus disjoined from the source of life and left to perish for want of spiritual nourishment.

Christ’s mediation in the Church justified by His mediation in the World.

The language of the New Testament writers is beset with difficulties, so long as we conceive of our Lord only in connexion with the Gospel revelation: but, when with the Apostles we realise in Him the same Divine Lord who is and ever has been the light of the whole world, who before Christianity wrought first in mankind at large through the avenues of the conscience, and afterwards more particularly in the Jews through a special though still imperfect revelation, then all these difficulties fall away. Then we understand the significance, and we recognise the truth, of such passages as these: ‘No man cometh unto the Father, but by me’: ‘There is no salvation in any other’; ‘He that disbelieveth the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth upon him[^[524]].’ The exclusive claims advanced in Christ’s name have their full and perfect justification in the doctrine of the Eternal Word.

Relation of the doctrine of the Word

The old dispensation is primarily the revelation of the absolute sovereignty of God. It vindicates this truth against two opposing forms of error, which in their extreme types are represented by Pantheism and Manicheism respectively. |to the monotheism of the Old Testament.|The Pantheist identifies God with the world: the Manichee attributes to the world an absolute existence, independent of God. With the Pantheist sin ceases to have any existence: for it is only one form of God’s working. With the Manichee sin is inherent in matter, which is antagonistic to God. The teaching of the Old Testament, of which the key-note is struck in the opening chapters of Genesis, is a refutation of both these errors. God is distinct from the world, and He is the Creator of the world. Evil is not inherent in God, but neither is it inherent in the material world. Sin is the disobedience of intelligent beings whom He has created, and whom He has endowed with a free-will, which they can use or misuse.

The New Testament is complementary to the Old.

The revelation of the New Testament is the proper complement to the revelation of the Old. It holds this position in two main respects. If the Old Testament sets forth the absolute unity of God—His distinctness from and sovereignty over His creatures—the New Testament points out how He holds communion with the world and with humanity, how man becomes one with Him. And again, if the Old Testament shows the true character of sin, the New Testament teaches the appointed means of redemption. On the one hand the monotheism of the Old Testament is supplemented by the theanthropism[^[525]] of the New. Thus the theology of revelation is completed. On the other hand, the hamartiology of the Old Testament has its counterpart in the soteriology of the New. Thus the economy of revelation is perfected.

2. The ethical error of the heretics.

2. When we turn from the theology of these Colossian heretics to their ethical teaching, we find it characterised by the same earnestness. Of them it might indeed be said that they did ‘hunger and thirst after righteousness.’ |Their practical earnestness,|Escape from impurity, immunity from evil, was a passion with them. But it was no less true that notwithstanding all their sincerity they ‘went astray in the wilderness’; ‘hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted within them.’ By their fatal transference of the abode of sin from the human heart within to the material world without, they had incapacitated themselves from finding the true antidote. |but fundamental misconception and consequent failure.| Where they placed the evil, there they necessarily sought the remedy. Hence they attempted to fence themselves about, and to purify their lives by a code of rigorous prohibitions. Their energy was expended on battling with the physical conditions of human life. Their whole mind was absorbed in the struggle with imaginary forms of evil. Necessarily their character was moulded by the thoughts which habitually engaged them. Where the ‘elements of the world,’ the ‘things which perish in the using[^[526]],’ engrossed all their attention, it could not fail but that they should be dragged down from the serene heights of the spiritual life into the cloudy atmosphere which shrouds this lower earth.

St Paul substitutes a principle for ordinances.

St Paul sets himself to combat this false tendency. For negative prohibitions he substitutes a positive principle; for special enactments, a comprehensive motive. He tells them that all their scrupulous restrictions are vain, because they fail to touch the springs of action. If they would overcome the evil, they must strike at the root of the evil. Their point of view must be entirely changed. They must transfer themselves into a wholly new sphere of energy. This transference is nothing less than a migration from earth to heaven—from the region of the external and transitory to the region of the spiritual and eternal[^[527]]. For a code of rules they must substitute a principle of life, which is one in its essence but infinite in its application, which will meet every emergency, will control every action, will resist every form of evil.

This principle is the heavenly life in Christ.

This principle they have in Christ. With Him they have died to the world; with Him they have risen to God. Christ, the revelation of God’s holiness, of God’s righteousness, of God’s love, is light, is life, is heaven. With Him they have been translated into a higher sphere, have been brought face to face with the Eternal Presence. Let them only realise this translation. It involves new insight, new motives, new energies. They will no more waste themselves upon vexatious special restrictions: for they will be furnished with a higher inspiration which will cover all the minute details of action. They will not exhaust their energies in crushing this or that rising desire but they will kill the whole body[^[528]] of their earthly passions through the strong arm of this personal communion with God in Christ.

St Paul’s doctrine of faith and works considered in the light of this principle.

When we once grasp this idea, which lies at the root of St Paul’s ethical teaching, the moral difficulty which is supposed to attach to his doctrine of faith and works has vanished. It is simply an impossibility that faith should exist without works. Though in form he states his doctrine as a relation of contrast between the two, in substance it resolves itself into a question of precedence. Faith and works are related as principle and practice. Faith—the repose in the unseen, the recognition of eternal principles of truth and right, the sense of personal obligations to an Eternal Being who vindicates these principles—must come first. Faith is not an intellectual assent, nor a sympathetic sentiment merely. It is the absolute surrender of self to the will of a Being who has a right to command this surrender. It is this which places men in personal relation to God, which (in St Paul’s language) justifies them before God. For it touches the springs of their actions; it fastens not on this or that detail of conduct, but extends throughout the whole sphere of moral activity; and thus it determines their character as responsible beings in the sight of God.

---

The Christology of this epistle

From the above account it will have appeared that the distinctive feature of this epistle is its Christology. The doctrine of the Person of Christ is here stated with greater precision and fulness than in any other of St Paul’s epistles. It is therefore pertinent to ask (even though the answer must necessarily be brief) what relation this statement bears to certain other enunciations of the same doctrine; |considered in relation to|to those for instance which occur elsewhere in St Paul’s own letters, to those which are found in other Apostolic writings, and to those which appear in the fathers of the succeeding generations.

1. The Christology of St Paul’s earlier epistles

1. The Christology of the Colossian Epistle is in no way different from that of the Apostle’s earlier letters. It may indeed be called a development of his former teaching, but only as exhibiting the doctrine in fresh relations, as drawing new deductions from it, as defining what had hitherto been left undefined, not as superadding any foreign element to it. The doctrine is practically involved in the opening and closing words of his earliest extant epistle: ‘The Church which is in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ’; ‘The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you[^[529]].’ The main conception of the Person of Christ, as enforced in the Colossian Epistle, alone justifies and explains this language, which otherwise would be emptied of all significance. And again; it had been enunciated by the Apostle explicitly, though briefly, in the earliest directly doctrinal passage which bears on the subject; ‘One Lord Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and we through Him[^[530]].’ |the same in substance but|The absolute universal mediation of the Son is declared as unreservedly in this passage from the First Epistle to the Corinthians, as in any later statement of the Apostle: and, |less fully developed|if all the doctrinal and practical inferences which it implicitly involves were not directly emphasized at this early date, it was because the circumstances did not yet require explicitness on these points. New forms of error bring into prominence new aspects of the truth. The heresies of Laodicea and Colossæ have been invaluable to the later Church in this respect. The Apostle himself, it is not too much to say, realised with ever increasing force the manifoldness, the adaptability, the completeness of the Christian idea, notwithstanding its simplicity, as he opposed it to each successive development of error. The Person of Christ proved the complete answer to false speculations at Colossæ, as it had been found the sovereign antidote to false practices at Corinth. All these unforeseen harmonies must have appeared to him, as they will appear to us, fresh evidences of its truth.

2. The Christology of other Apostolic writings.

|Their fundamental identity.|

2. And when we turn from St Paul to the other Apostolic writings which dwell on the Person of Christ from a doctrinal point of view, we find them enunciating it in language which implies the same fundamental conception, though they may not always present it in exactly the same aspect. More especially in the Epistle to the Hebrews first, and in the Gospel of St John afterwards, the form of expression is identical with the statement of St Paul. In both these writings the universe is said to have been created or to exist by or through Him. This is the crucial expression, which involves in itself all the higher conceptions of the Person of Christ[^[531]]. The Epistle to the Hebrews seems to have been written by a disciple of St Paul immediately after the Apostle’s death, and therefore within some five or six years from the date which has been assigned to the Colossian letter. The Gospel of St John, if the traditional report may be accepted, dates about a quarter of a century later; but it is linked with our epistle by the fact that the readers for whom it was primarily intended belonged to the neighbouring districts of Proconsular Asia. Thus it illustrates, and is illustrated by, the teaching of St Paul in this letter. More especially by the emphatic use of the term Logos, which St Paul for some reason has suppressed, it supplies the centre round which the ideas gather, and thus gives unity and directness to the conception.

Firmness of the apostolic idea.

In the Christology of these Apostolic writings there is a firmness and precision which leaves no doubt about the main conception present to the mind of the writers. The idea of Christ as an intermediate being, neither God nor man, is absolutely and expressly excluded. On the one hand His humanity is distinctly emphasized. On the other He is represented as existing from eternity, as the perfect manifestation of the Father, as the absolute mediator in the creation and government of the world.

3. The Christology of the succeeding ages.

3. But, when we turn from these Apostolic statements to the writings of succeeding generations, we are struck with the contrast[^[532]]. A vagueness, a flaccidity, of conception betrays itself in their language.

Its looseness of conception.

In the Apostolic Fathers and in the earlier Apologists we find indeed for the most part a practical appreciation of the Person of Christ, which leaves nothing to be desired; but as soon as they venture upon any directly dogmatic statement, we miss at once the firmness of grasp and clearness of conception which mark the writings of the Apostles. If they desire to emphasize the majesty of His Person, they not unfrequently fall into language which savours of patripassianism[^[533]]. If on the other hand they wish to present Him in His mediatorial capacity, they use words which seem to imply some divine being, who is God and yet not quite God, neither Creator nor creature[^[534]].

The Apostolic idea applied in later ages.

The Church needed a long education, before she was fitted to be the expositor of the true Apostolic doctrine. A conflict of more than two centuries with Gnostics, Ebionites, Sabellians, Arians, supplied the necessary discipline. The true successors of the Apostles in this respect are not the fathers of the second century, but the fathers of the third and fourth centuries. In the expositors of the Nicene age we find indeed technical terms and systematic definitions, which we do not find in the Apostles themselves; but, unless I have wholly misconceived the nature of the heretical teaching at Colossæ and the purport of St Paul’s reply, the main idea of Christ’s Person, with which he here confronts this Gnostic Judaism, is essentially the same as that which the fathers of these later centuries opposed to the Sabellianism and the Arianism of their own age. If I mistake not, the more distinctly we realise the nature of the heresy, the more evident will it become that any conception short of the perfect deity and perfect humanity of Christ would not have furnished a satisfactory answer; and this is the reason why I have dwelt at such length on the character of the Colossian false teaching, and why I venture to call especial attention to this part of my subject.

---

Style of this epistle.

Of the style of the letter to the Colossians I shall have occasion to speak hereafter, when I come to discuss its genuineness. It is sufficient to say here, that while the hand of St Paul is unmistakable throughout this epistle, we miss the flow and the versatility of the Apostle’s earlier letters.

Its ruggedness and compression,

A comparison with the Epistles to the Corinthians and to the Philippians will show the difference. It is distinguished from them by a certain ruggedness of expression, a ‘want of finish’ often bordering on obscurity. What account should be given of this characteristic, it is impossible to say. The divergence of style is not greater than will appear in the letters of any active-minded man, written at different times and under different circumstances. The epistles which I have selected for contrast suggest that the absence of all personal connexion with the Colossian Church will partially, if not wholly, explain the diminished fluency of this letter. |but essential vigour.|At the same time no epistle of St Paul is more vigorous in conception or more instinct with meaning. It is the very compression of the thoughts which creates the difficulty. If there is a want of fluency, there is no want of force. Feebleness is the last charge which can be brought against this epistle.

---

Analysis.

The following is an analysis of the epistle:

I. Introductory (i. 1–13).

(1) [i. 1], 2. Opening salutation.

(2) [i. 3]–8. Thanksgiving for the progress of the Colossians hitherto.

(3) [i. 9]–13. Prayer for their future advance in knowledge and well-doing through Christ.

[This leads the Apostle to speak of Christ as the only path of progress.]

II. Doctrinal (i. 13-ii. 3).

The Person and Office of Christ.

(1) [i. 13], 14. Through the Son we have our deliverance, our redemption.

(2) [i. 15]–19. The Preeminence of the Son;

(i) As the Head of the natural Creation, the Universe (i. 15–17);

(ii) As the Head of the new moral Creation, the Church (i. 18).

Thus He is first in all things; and this, because the pleroma has its abode in Him (i. 19).

(3) [i. 20]-ii. 3. The Work of the Son—a work of reconciliation;

(i) Described generally (i. 20).

(ii) Applied specially to the Colossians (i. 21–23).

(iii) St Paul’s own part in carrying out this work. His sufferings and preaching. The ‘mystery’ with which he is charged (i. 24–27).

His anxiety on behalf of all (i. 28, 29): and more especially of the Colossian and neighbouring Churches (ii. 1–3).

[This expression of anxiety leads him by a direct path to the next division of the epistle.]

III. Polemical (ii. 4-iii. 4).

Warning against errors.

(1) [ii. 4]–8. The Colossians charged to abide in the truth of the Gospel as they received it at first, and not to be led astray by a strange philosophy which the new teachers offer.

(2) [ii. 9]–15. The truth stated first positively and then negatively.

[In the passage which follows (ii. 9–23) it will be observed how St Paul vibrates between the theological and practical bearings of the truth, marked α, β, respectively.]

(i) Positively.

(α) The pleroma dwells wholly in Christ and is communicated through Him (ii. 9, 10).

(β) The true circumcision is a spiritual circumcision (ii. 11, 12).

(ii) Negatively. Christ has

(β) annulled the law of ordinances (ii. 14);

(α) triumphed over all spiritual agencies, however powerful (ii. 15).

(3) [ii. 16]-iii. 4. Obligations following thereupon.

(i) Consequently the Colossians must not

(β) either submit to ritual prohibitions (ii. 16, 17),

(α) or substitute the worship of inferior beings for allegiance to the Head (ii. 18, 19).

(ii) On the contrary this must henceforth be their rule:

1. They have died with Christ; and with Him they have died to their old life, to earthly ordinances (ii. 20–23).

2. They have risen with Christ; and with Him they have risen to a new life, to heavenly principles (iii. 1–4).

IV. Hortatory (iii. 5-iv. 6).

Practical application of this death and this resurrection.

(1) [iii. 5]–12. Comprehensive rules.

(i) What vices are to be put off, being mortified in this death (iii. 5–11).

(ii) What graces are to be put on, being quickened through this resurrection (iii. 12–17).

(2) [iii. 13]-iv. 6. Special precepts.

(a) The obligations

Of wives and husbands (iii. 18, 19);

Of children and parents (iii. 20, 21);

Of slaves and masters (iii. 22-iv. 1).

(b) The duty of prayer and thanksgiving; with special intercession on the Apostle’s behalf (iv. 2–4).

(c) The duty of propriety in behaviour towards the unconverted (iv. 5, 6).

V. Personal (iv. 7–18).

(1) [iv. 7]–9. Explanations relating to the letter itself.

(2) [iv. 10]–14. Salutations from divers persons.

(3) [iv. 15]–17. Salutations to divers persons. A message relating to Laodicea.

(4) [iv. 18]. Farewell.

---

ΠΡΟΣ ΚΟΛΑΣΣΑΕΙΣ.

---

WE SPEAK WISDOM AMONG THEM THAT ARE PERFECT.

YET NOT THE WISDOM OF THIS WORLD.

BUT WE SPEAK THE WISDOM OF GOD IN A MYSTERY.

---

Iste vas electionis

Vires omnes rationis

Humanæ transgreditur:

Super choros angelorum

Raptus, cœli secretorum

Doctrinis imbuitur.

De hoc vase tam fecundo,

Tam electo et tam mundo,

Tu nos, Christe, complue;

Nos de luto, nos de fæce,

Tua sancta purga prece,

Regno tuo statue.

---