Doubtless the tender love which filled the heart of Jesus for the little church which surrounded him overflowed at this moment,[1] and his strong and serene soul became buoyant, even under the weight of the gloomy preoccupations that beset him.  He had a word for each of his friends; two among them especially, John and Peter, were the objects of tender marks of attachment.  John (at least according to his own account) was reclining on the divan, by the side of Jesus, his head resting upon the breast of the Master.  Toward the end of the repast, the secret which weighed upon the heart of Jesus almost escaped him:  he said, “Verily I say unto you, that one of you shall betray me."[2] To these simple men this was a moment of anguish; they looked at each other, and each questioned himself.  Judas was present; perhaps Jesus, who had for some time had reasons to suspect him, sought by this expression to draw from his looks or from his embarrassed manner the confession of his fault.  But the unfaithful disciple did not lose countenance; he even dared, it is said, to ask with the others:  “Master, is it I?”

[Footnote 1:  John xiii. 1, and following.]

[Footnote 2:  Matt. xxvi. 21, and following; Mark xiv. 18, and following; Luke xx. 21, and following; John xiii. 21, and following, xxi. 20.]

Meanwhile, the good and upright soul of Peter was in torture.  He made a sign to John to endeavor to ascertain of whom the Master spoke.  John, who could converse with Jesus without being heard, asked him the meaning of this enigma.  Jesus having only suspicions, did not wish to pronounce any name; he only told John to observe to whom he was going to offer a sop.  At the same time he soaked the bread and offered it to Judas.  John and Peter alone had cognizance of the fact.  Jesus addressed to Judas words which contained a bitter reproach, but which were not understood by those present; and he left the company.  They thought that Jesus was simply giving him orders for the morrow’s feast.[1]

[Footnote 1:  John xiii. 21, and following, which shows the improbabilities of the narrative of the synoptics.]

At the time, this repast struck no one; and apart from the apprehensions which the Master confided to his disciples, who only half understood them, nothing extraordinary took place.  But after the death of Jesus, they attached to this evening a singularly solemn meaning, and the imagination of believers spread a coloring of sweet mysticism over it.  The last hours of a cherished friend are those we best remember.  By an inevitable illusion, we attribute to the conversations we have then had with him a meaning which death alone gives to them; we concentrate into a few hours the memories of many years.  The greater part of the disciples saw their Master no more after the supper of which we have just spoken.  It was the farewell banquet.  In this repast, as in many others, Jesus practised his mysterious rite of the breaking of bread.