curl of his hair, and in every glare
of his eye, and in every knuckle of his hand with which he clutches the
money bag, hypocrisy and avarice and hate and low strategy and
diabolism. The quickness with which he grabs the bribe for the betrayal
of the Lord, the villainous leer at the Master while seated at the holy
supper, show him to be capable of any wickedness. What a spectacle when
the traitorous lips are pressed against the pure cheek of the Immaculate
One, the disgusting smack desecrating the holy symbol of love.

But after Judas has done his deadly work then there comes upon him a
remorse and terror such as you have never seen depicted unless you have
witnessed the Passion Play at the foot of the Bavarian mountains. His
start at imaginary sounds, his alarm at a creaking door, his fear at
nothing, the grinding teeth and the clenched fist indicative of mental
torture, the dishevelled hair, the beating of his breast with his hands,
the foaming mouth, the implication, the shriek, the madness, the flying
here and there in the one attempt to get rid of himself, the horror
increased at his every appearance, whether in company or alone, regarded
in contrast with the dagger scene of "Macbeth" makes the latter mere
child's play. That day, John Zwink, in the character of Judas, preached
fifty sermons on the ghastliness of betrayal. The fire-smart of
ill-gotten gain, the iron-beaked vulture of an aroused conscience; all
the bloodhounds of despair seemed tearing him. Then, when he can endure
the anguish no longer, he loosens the long girdle from his waist and
addresses that girdle as a snake, crying out:--

"Ha! Come, thou serpent, entwine my neck and strangle the betrayer," and
hastily ties it about his neck and tightens it, then rushes up to the
branch of a tree for suicide, and the curtain closes before the 4,000
breathless auditors.

Do I approve of the Passion Play at Ober-Ammergau?

My only answer is that I was never so impressed in all my life with the
greatness of the price that was paid for the redemption of the human
race. The suffering depicted was so awful that I cannot now understand
how I could have endured looking upon its portrayal. It is amazing that
thousands in the audience did not faint into a swoon as complete as that
of the soldiers who fell on the stage at the Lord's reanimation from
Joseph's mausoleum.

Imagine what it would be to see a soldier seemingly thrust a spear into
the Saviour's side, and