This was the service of a common slave. It is easy to imagine the silent astonishment of the disciples. The purpose of Jesus could not be mistaken. It was a reproof for their contention. The object lesson was ended. John continued to closely watch His movements, as he took the garments He had laid aside and resumed His seat at the table. The very towel with which the Lord had girded Himself, found a lasting place in John's memory, worthy of mention as the instrument of humble service. What a sacred relic, if preserved, it would have become--more worthy of a place in St. Peter's in Rome than the pretended handkerchief of Veronica. [Illustration: THE LAST SUPPER _Benjamin West_ Page 158] Christ's treatment of one of the disciples at the feet-washing left a deep impression on John's mind. With sadness and indefiniteness the Lord said, "He that eateth My bread lifted up his heel against Me": one who accepts My hospitality and partakes of the proofs of My friendship is My enemy. For that one whoever it might be, known only to himself and to Jesus, it was a most solemn call to even yet turn from his evil purpose. But the faithless one betrayed no sign; nor did Jesus betray him even with a glance which would have been a revelation to John's observant eye. It is John who tells us that as they sat at the table "Jesus ... was troubled in spirit." The apostle closest to Him in position and sympathy would be the first to detect that special trouble, and the greatness of it, even before the cause of it was known. But that was not long. "Jesus said, Verily, verily, I say unto you that one of you shall betray Me." Such is John's record of Christ's declaration. It is in His Gospel alone that we find the double "Verily" introducing Christ's words, thus giving a deeper emphasis and solemnity than appears in the other Evangelists. A comparison of this declaration of Christ as given by the four, illustrates this fact. John immediately follows this statement of the betrayal with another, peculiar to himself. Its shows his close observation at the time, and the permanence of his impression. What he noticed would furnish a grand subject for the most skilful artist, beneath whose picture might be written, "The disciples looked one on another, doubting of whom He spake." As John gazed upon them, raising themselves on their divans, looking first one way, then another, from one familiar face to another, exchanging glances of inquiry and doubt, each distrustful of himself and his fellow, he beheld what angels might have looked upon with even deeper interest. There has been no other occasion, nor can there be, for such facial expressions--a blending of surprise, consternation, fear and sorrow. Was John one of those who "began to question among themselves which of them it was that should do this thing"? Did he take his turn as "one by one" they "began to say, ... Is it I, Lord?" If so it must have been in the faintest whisper; and