We may think of John alone with Jesus, seated in an alcove which sheltered them from the sun.  They may often have been thus found in loving companionship.  With what delight would we read of those private interviews.  How sacred and precious they must have been to John.

At the well, what subjects there were for conversation, suggested by memories of the spot.  Here Abraham had erected his first altar in Canaan to the true God, whom Jesus was about to reveal more perfectly.  This was the parcel of ground which Jacob had bought, and in which he had buried the false gods of his household.  Here Joseph had been a wanderer seeking his brethren.  This was the place which Jacob when dying had given to his son Joseph, on whose tomb Jesus and John looked as they talked together.  The twin mountains of Ebal and Gerizim looked down upon them, reminders of the days of Joshua, when the two Israelitish bands called to each other in solemn words, and the valley echoed with their loud “Amen.”  Not every Jew could have the personal interest in that well, such as the two weary travelers could claim, through the family records of their common ancestor even to Abraham.  It was not on account of John that these records had been kept, but of the “Son of Man” at his side, whom he had learned to look upon as “the Son of God.”  As they sat together John could not look into the future, as his Master could, and think of the time when they would be in the region together with an unfriendly reception; nor of that other time when John would come to it again and have a friendly reception, but with memories only of his Lord.

[Illustration:  BELSHAZZAR’S FEAST Old Engraving Page 74]

But their visit alone did not last until the return of His disciples.  It was suddenly interrupted.  “There cometh a woman of Samaria to draw water.”  She was no fitting companion for them.  She was not prepared to enter into their thoughts and feelings.  She was an ignorant woman of the lower order of society, sinful, and not worthy of the respect of those who knew her.  “Give me to drink,” said Jesus—­fatigued, hungry, thirsty.  She gazed upon Him with astonishment.  She knew by His appearance and dress that He was a Jew.  She supposed that any such would be too full of hatred and pride to ask even such a simple favor of a Samaritan.  Her answer showed her surprise.  He gently spoke of her ignorance of Him, and of a richer gift than the one He asked, and which He was ready to bestow.  It was “living water”—­“the grace and truth of which He was full.”  Changing her manner toward Him, and addressing Him more respectfully, she asked, “Art Thou greater than our father Jacob?” She meant, “Surely Thou art not greater.”  How strange this must have sounded to John as his eye turned from her, to Him before whom Jacob would bow in adoration could he have joined that circle on the spot where he had built an altar many years before.  Jesus explained more fully the difference between the water for which He had asked, and that which He would give.  He had asked a very small favor of her; He would bestow the greatest of gifts, even eternal life.