As a general thing, he was well sustained. Judas was inimitable, and considering the character he had to take, may almost be said to be better than Joseph Maier himself. With the latter every heart was in sympathy, while for Judas there naturally could be but one feeling, and that of indignation, but so powerfully was he tempted by the artful Pharisees, and so hard and long did he struggle against the temptation, and so bitter was his repentance when the deed was done, that you have only a deep sympathy for him as he stands alone by himself and gives vent to his remorse. I can see him now so plainly as he walked the stage, wringing his hands in his despair, and catching at his long gray hair as he lamented his folly, and with bitter cries mourned for the dear friend he had betrayed. You do not see him hang himself, but you see him make a rush at the mountain ash, placed there for that purpose, and which hardly looks as if it would sustain him. But the curtain falls in time to shut out any inconsistencies, and poor Judas “goes to his own place,” and is seen no more. Next to _Judas_ in point of acting comes rash, impetuous and cowardly _Peter_, who, even if you did not know the story, would impress you as a loving, true hearted man, sure to weep bitterly over the denial called forth by fear, and to be among the first to seek the tomb of the risen Saviour. _John_, the beloved, was a little too tame and quiet for the part he took, while _Magdalen_ was an utter failure. One great feature of the play was the perfect self-forgetfulness of the actors, but this did not apply to _Magdalen_, whose self-consciousness was so apparent and whose voice was so unnatural and peculiar that we were sorry when she appeared and glad when she left the stage. Her personal appearance was quite contrary to one’s idea of the _Magdalen_, to whom the old masters always gave long, flowing hair of a reddish or golden hue, for hers was dark and so short and thin that to wipe one’s feet with it was an utter absurdity. She might, of course, have called in art to her assistance, and worn hair of wondrous length and thickness, but such deceptions are unknown to the Magdalen of Oberammergau, whose locks were all her own, as were the few attractions she possessed. The Madonna, on the contrary, was excellent, with a fair, sweet face, which would lead us to question the propriety of selecting so young a person for the mother of Christ, if we did not know that the Bavarian peasantry believe in the perpetual youth and beauty of the Virgin Mary. The parting scene between the mother and her son before he goes up to Jerusalem is very touching and sad, for Mary’s heart is wrung with dismal forebodings of some evil which will befall her child, and her voice is full of pathos and entreaty, while with infinite love and tenderness he bends over her trying to reassure and comfort her. This is the third act, and after the supper in Simon’s house, where Mary anointed the Saviour’s head, and