Each moment of this eventful period is solemn, and counts more than whole ages in the history of humanity. We have arrived at the Thursday, 13th of Nisan (2d April). The evening of the next day commenced the festival of the Passover, begun by the feast in which the Paschal lamb was eaten. The festival continued for seven days, during which unleavened bread was eaten. The first and the last of these seven days were peculiarly solemn. The disciples were already occupied with preparations for the feast.[1] As to Jesus, we are led to believe that he knew of the treachery of Judas, and that he suspected the fate that awaited him. In the evening he took his last repast with his disciples. It was not the ritual feast of the passover, as was afterward supposed, owing to an error of a day in reckoning,[2] but for the primitive church this supper of the Thursday was the true passover, the seal of the new covenant. Each disciple connected with it his most cherished remembrances, and numerous touching traits of the Master which each one preserved were associated with this repast, which became the corner-stone of Christian piety, and the starting-point of the most fruitful institutions. [Footnote 1: Matt. xxvi. 1, and following; Mark xiv. 12; Luke xxii. 7; John xiii. 29.] [Footnote 2: This is the system of the synoptics (Matt. xxvi. 17, and following; Mark xiv. 12, and following; Luke xxii. 7, and following, 15.) But John, whose narrative of this portion has a greater authority, expressly states that Jesus died the same day on which the Paschal lamb was eaten (xiii. 1, 2, 29, xviii. 28, xix. 14, 31.) The Talmud also makes Jesus to die "on the eve of the Passover" (Talm. of Bab., _Sanhedrim_, 43 _a_, 67 _a_.)] 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.]