etplace,
with cages of birds and small droves of lambs and heifers which the
dealers would sell to those who wanted to make a "live offering" in the
Temple. Indignation gathers on the countenance of Christ where
gentleness had reigned. He denounces these merchants, who stood there
over-reaching in their bargains and exorbitantly outrageous in their
charges. The doors of the cages holding the pigeons are opened, and in
their escape they fly over the stage and over the audience. The table
on which the exchangers had been gathering unreasonable percentage was
thrown down, and the coin rattled over the floor, and the place was
cleared of the dishonest invaders, who go forth to plot the ruin and the
death of Him who had so suddenly expelled them.

The most impressive character in all the sacred drama is Christ.

The impersonator, Anton Lang, seems by nature far better fitted for this
part than was his predecessor, Josef Mayr, who took that part in 1870,
1880, and 1890. Mayr is very tall, brawny, athletic. His hair was black
in those days, and his countenance now is severe. He must have done it
well, but I can hardly imagine him impersonating gentleness and complete
submission to abuse. But Anton Lang, with his blonde complexion, his
light hair, blue eyes and delicate mouth, his exquisiteness of form and
quietness of manner, is just like what Raphael and many of the old
masters present. When we talked with Anton Lang in private he looked
exactly as he looked in the Passion Play. This is his first year in the
Christ character, and his success is beyond criticism. In his trade as a
carver of wood he has so much to do in imitating the human countenance
that he understands the full power of expression. The way he listens to
the unjust charges in the court room, his bearing when the ruffians bind
him, and his manner when, by a hand, thick-gloved so as not to get hurt,
a crown of thorns was put upon his brow, and the officers with long
bands of wood press it down upon the head of the sufferer, all show that
he has a talent to depict infinite agony.

No more powerful acting was ever seen on the stage than that of John
Zwink, the Judas. In repose there is no honester face in Ober-Ammergau
than his. Twenty years ago he appeared in the Passion Play as St. John;
one would suppose that he would do best in a representation of geniality
and mildness. But in the character of Judas he represents, in every
wrinkle of his face, and in every