When my eyes had become accustomed to the light, I looked round, and said the greeting of peace unto those I knew of the assembly. I can still remember many of their names. There was Ishmael ben Phabi, who had at first replaced Hanan as High Priest. There were also the four sons of Hanan—Eleazar, Jonathan, Theophilus, and Matthias. Then there were Kamithos the priest, and his two sons, Simon and Joseph. And beside these, I remember two men of my own generation—Elioni ben Kantheros and Chananyah ben Nedebai. Most of these men had been, or were afterwards, High Priests, and were all at this time members of the Priestly Sanhedrim. On the left of Caiaphas was a low stool, and, even as I looked, Hanan ben Seth the High Priest came in swiftly from a side door, and took a seat thereon. He glanced sharply round at each of us, counting our numbers, and we were exactly three and twenty. And when he saw me, he rose and spake somewhat harshly, “Meshullam ben Zadok, what dost thou here? This is a meeting of the Priestly Sanhedrim. Thou art a son of Israel.” And I answered and said, “Simon Kantheros here, my kinsman, summoned me to the meeting, saying that any member of the Sanhedrim could attend.” The High Priest thought for a moment—he seemed as if he were counting us again—then he said, “Be it so; thou art at least a true son of Israel, and this is not a formal meeting of the priests.” He sat him down again, and we waited. At last an attendant entered by the same door, and, going up to the High Priest, spake to him. He nodded quickly, and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. And when he had passed through the door, Hanan the High Priest rose, and spake to us these words:—