some fighting with one another, some murdering one another, some in chains, some in wild carousals of drunkenness, some receiving the last sentence from a judge, and some being hanged or beheaded. The entire door was one ghastly record of past misery and sin. On entering the interior hall there was a swarm of horrible models, in wax, of misers, of avaricious men, of surface saints, that prayed for glory in heaven while they grasped with the grasp of desperation the money bags, that to them, in their secret hearts, were of more value than salvation. Then, there were wonderfully beautiful representations executed in the same wax like material, of scenes of robbery and murder for the purpose of acquiring wealth. There were models of the city schemer that was supposed by the world to be a saint; there he was—scheming out plans to defraud his fellows. The next model to this represented the same man after the successful carrying out of his nefarious enterprise. There was a sanctimonious grin of satisfaction on his face;
