When Agrippa, laden with honors, left Rome for Judæa to take possession of his kingdom, his subjects remarked that some great change was manifest in him, and that the stirring revolution in Rome, by which a headstrong emperor had been dethroned in favor of a weak one, had deeply impressed their own monarch. The frivolous Agrippa returned an earnest-minded man; the courtier had given place to the patriot; the pleasure-loving prince to the conscientious monarch, who was fully aware of what he owed his nation. The Herodian nature had, in fact, been entirely subdued by the Hasmonæan. For the last time, Judæa enjoyed under his reign a short span of undisturbed happiness; and his subjects, won by his generous affection, which even risked forfeiting the good will of Rome in their cause, repaid him with untiring devotion, the bitterest enemies of his scepter becoming his ardent supporters. Historians do not weary of praising Agrippa's loving adherence to Judaism; it seemed as if he were endeavoring to rebuild what had been cast down by Herod. He mixed freely with the people when they carried the first fruits into the Temple, and bore his own offering of fruit or grain to the Sanctuary. He re-established the old law that obliged the king to read the book of Deuteronomy in the Court of the Temple at the close of each year of release. Facing the congregation, Agrippa performed this act for the first time in the autumn of the year 42, and when he came to the verse, "From amongst your brethren shall you choose a king," he burst into a passion of tears, for he was painfully aware of his Idumæan descent, and knew that he was unworthy of being a king of Judæa. But the assembled multitude, and even the Pharisees, exclaimed with enthusiasm: "Thou art our brother; thou art our brother!"