The first tableau represented Adam and Eve being driven from the Paradise, which lay in the background, while, conspicuous in the center of the garden, was the tree of life, laden with fruit, and among its branches, the tempter, in the form of a serpent, was coiled. The second tableau, which follows immediately after the close of the chorus, revealed a large cross planted on a rock, with crowds of children dressed in white kneeling around it in a worshiping attitude. The prayers the children are supposed to be saying, are sung by the chorus, who retire from the stage, and the first act of the great drama commences. Shouts of rejoicing and notes of glad singing were faintly heard, seeming at first so far away that one could easily believe they came from the green hilltops, seen over and beyond the theatre; nearer and nearer they came, until the long procession appeared in view, and the shouts and singing grew louder, as the thronging crowds, carrying palms in their hands, welcomed to Jerusalem their master. Then it is that you see _Joseph Maier_—the central figure of the play—the one on whom every eye is fixed whenever he appears, and the sight of whom makes your heart throb faster as you remember that the scenes you look upon were once a reality, when Jerusalem opened wide her gates, and her streets resounded with the loud hosannas of the multitude doing honor to the man riding in their midst. A better _Christus_ than Joseph Maier could not have been selected. Tall, finely formed, with a sad, pale face, and long, flowing hair, he impresses you at once, and your first thought is what a splendid looking man, and how well fitted for his part—a conviction which deepens as the play progresses, and you watch him in all the varied situations he has to fill. Not a trace of self-consciousness is ever perceptible in his manner, which is always dignified and self-possessed, like one who feels himself the master. His voice is clear, and full, and rich, and you find yourself constantly listening for it, especially toward the last, when the musical tones are full of anguish or tender expostulation and disappointment, as he says to his sleeping disciples: “Could ye not watch with me one hour?”