The Boy was confused by the silence. The man's eyes troubled him with their secret look, but he was not afraid.
“Who are you, sir,” he asked, “and what is your will with me? Perhaps you are a master of the Pharisees or a scribe? But no—there are no broad blue fringes on your garments. Are you a priest, then?”
The man shook his head, frowning. “I despise the priests,” he answered, “and I abhor their bloody and unclean sacrifices. I am Enoch the Essene, a holy one, a perfect keeper of the law. I live with those who have never defiled themselves with the eating of meat, nor with marriage, nor with wine; but we have all things in common, and we are baptized in pure water every day for the purifying of our wretched bodies, and after that we eat the daily feast of love in the kingdom of the Messiah which is at hand. Thou art called into that kingdom, son; come with me, for thou art called.”
The Boy listened with astonishment. Some of the things that the man said—for instance, about the sacrifices and about the nearness of the kingdom—were already in his heart. But other things puzzled and bewildered him.
“My mother says that I am called,” he answered, “but it is to serve Israel and to help the people. Where do you live, sir, and what is it that you do for the people?”
“We live among the hills of that wilderness,” he answered, pointing to the south, “in the oasis of Engedi. There are palm-trees and springs of water, and we keep ourselves pure, bathing before we eat and offering our food of bread and dates as a sacrifice to God. We all work together, and none of us has anything that he calls his own. We do not go up to the Temple nor enter the synagogues. We have forsaken the uncleanness of the world and all the impure ways of men. Our only care is to keep ourselves from defilement. If we touch anything that is forbidden we wash our hands and wipe them with this towel that hangs from our girdle. We alone are serving the kingdom. Come, live with us, for I think thou art chosen.”
The Boy thought for a while before he answered. “Some of it is good, my master,” he said, “but the rest of it is far away from my thoughts. Is there nothing for a man to do in the world but to think of himself—either in feasting and uncleanness as the heathen do, or in fasting and purifying yourself as you do? How can you serve the kingdom if you turn away from the people? They do not see you or hear you. You are separate from them—just as if you were dead without dying. You can do nothing for them. No, I do not want to come with you and live at Engedi. I think my Father will show me something better to do.”
“Your Father!” said Enoch the Essene. “Who is He?”
“Surely,” answered the Boy, “He is the same as yours. He that made us and made all that we see—the great world for us to live in.”
“Dust,” said the man, with a darker frown—“dust and ashes! It will all perish, and thou with it. Thou art not chosen—not pure!”