But a certain old Scribe, Josiah the son of Hezekiah, (which also was the chief Scribe of the place, and had known Jesus and loved him of a child) coming forth from his house, met him and fell upon his neck, and blessed him, and embraced him; and then, when he had looked more narrowly at his countenance, he began to mourn over him as if he were his own son, lamenting for that the bloom of beauty had departed from the countenance of Jesus: “for behold,” said he, “sorrow hath driven out the former brightness of thy joy. Thou wast as the dew of the morning, O my lamb, but art become as the parched ground at noontide. Behold, O my lamb, around thy cradle mercy and righteousness joined hands together; and when thou didst sport amid this valley, lo, truth and peace went ever with thee, and thou didst still hold converse with the angels of God? Unfit art thou, O my gentle one, to do battle with the wickedness of wicked men, and with the cunning arts of the adversary. Verily thou wilt be led as a lamb to the slaughter. Hast thou fathomed the depth of the pit of destruction? Or dost thou know by experience the snares of deceit? Return, O thou that art the apple of mine eye, while there is yet time, lest evil befal thee. For I know that danger compasseth thee around, and if thou shalt go hence, thou wilt come back to me no more.” Jesus spake comfortably to the old man and consoled him; and while he consoled him, his face shone with joy and love; insomuch that the old man also rejoiced, saying that Jesus appeared now again as he appeared in the days of his youth. But still he besought Jesus to return and to avoid contention with the Pharisees, saying that “no vessel but peace can hold blessing.” But Jesus answered him kindly and bade him farewell. And so we departed from Nazareth. When we were now come to the top of the hill which looketh down on Nazareth, we rested a little to recover our breath. Now Jesus was sorrowful because of the unbelief of his kinsfolk and acquaintance, and he was silent (as was his wont when sorrow fell upon him), musing and meditating, and, as it seemed to me, praying; even as one striving to unloose the knot of some hard saying or riddle. For the unbelief of his kinsfolk had filled him with astonishment. While he thus mused, we conversed together, and Judas said that it was an error to have come to Nazareth. “For who knoweth not,” said he, “that a prophet hath no honour in his own country? For a prophet known is a prophet despised.”