Kansas University Weekly. 55 women have, without exception, long and beautiful hair, which hangs without other restraint. Only once during the play is any change in this costume made. That is just before the crucifixion, when black tunics replace the white ones, to be discarded for the latter before the scene of the ascension. Having finished their first song of praise and adoration, the chorus divides and draws aside, the curtain rises, and the first tableau, representing the expulsion from Eden, meets our eyes. They are wonderful, these tableaux, in color, in grouping, in motionlessness. Long practice and excellent training of willing subjects has almost brought perfection. It is not true, as guidebooks assert, that no motion can ever be discerned, even with the aid of a glass. A slight trembling of arm or body is quite obvious, occasionally, to the naked eye. But it is true that such occasions are surprisingly rare, and that even little children remain in constrained positions several minutes without apparent movement. Another remarkable feature of the tableaux is the rapidity with which great crowds are handled. In the tableau of the Fall of Manna in the Wilderness, one of the finest in the play, there are more than four hundred persons on the stage. These are moved on and off without noise and in an incredibly short space of time. The only explanation for this is that each one, down to the smallest of the one hundred children, knows exactly his place and position, and assumes it quickly, noiselessly, and without direction. The first act is the entry into Jerusalem and the cleansing of the Temple, and the first division of the play closes at twelve, with the scene in the Garden of Gethsemane. After an hour's intermission, the seats are filled again, the play recommences, and continues without interruption until about five o'clock. There are in all eighteen acts and twenty-four tableaux. It is the almost universal opinion that the acting of the villagers is beyond comparison. Nearly all that is said or written is in this one vein. The reports and surroundings are impressive, and one comes not only willing to be impressed but impressed in advance. Then there is a sentiment that this play ought not to be criticised like others. All these things lead to the over-rating of everything by the spectator, and to the exaggeration of reports. But to one who comes to Ober Ammergau determined to judge not by his sympathies or regard for the subject, but on merit alone, the play is remarkable, but not great apart from its surroundings. Yet the beauty and pathos of the gospel story, nearer, dearer, and more real than ever before, stir us deeply; and the nature that can remain unmoved or antagonistic while the lesson of Christ's life and death is so vividly brought out, is not to be envied. Thousands of people, from many different nations, watch that stage with never-flagging interest, for eight long hours; sometimes subjected to the heat of a mid-summer sun, sometimes to chilling rains. But it is not beautiful costumes, nor marvelous tableaux, nor consummate acting, which holds them there. It is the wonderful story, "the story that transformed the world." The character of Christ is of necessity the most difficult role in the play. "Looking at it either as a rendering of the supernatural, or a portraying of the human Christ, there is apparent at once the well-nigh insurmountable difficulty in the way of actualizing it in any man's conception." Joseph Maier acts the part with a quiet dignity which is never lost from first to last. His voice lacks pathos, perhaps, but his quiet, unimpassioned manner shows something more than dramatic talent and training—love and reverence for the character he is seeking to portrait. The part of Mary the Mother, is well filled by sweet-voiced Rosa Lang, the daughter of the Burgomaster, who himself, makes a satisfactory Caiaphas. The Apostle John, a young fellow of nineteen or thereabouts, is everybody's favorite. It is said that he will be Joseph Maier's successor—and a worthy one—if the play is repeated in 1900. And now what has the Passion Play done for us? It has brought us nearer to the human side of Christ. It has made the gospel story "palpitate with actuality." And more than this, it has forced upon us the conclusion that if this