The day before yesterday I took a walk with my friend Whipple to Mrs. Wells's, the sister of the famous Mrs. Wright,[172] to see her wax-work. She has two chambers filled with it. In one, the parable of the prodigal son is represented. The prodigal is prostrate on his knees before his father, whose joy and grief and compassion all appear in his eyes and face, struggling with each other. A servant-maid, at the father's command, is puffing down from a closet shelf the choicest robes to clothe the prodigal, who is all in rags. At an outward door in a corner of the room stands the brother, chagrined at this festivity, a servant coaxing him to come in. A large number of guests are placed round the room. In another chamber are the figures of Chatham, Franklin, Sawbridge, Mrs. Macaulay, and several others. At a corner is a miser, sitting at his table weighing his gold, his bag upon one side of the table and a thief behind him endeavoring to pilfer the bag. There is genius as well as taste and art discovered in this exhibition. But I must confess the whole scene was disagreeable to me. The imitation of life was too faint, and I seemed to be walking among a group of corpses, standing, sitting, and walking, laughing, singing, crying, and weeping. This art, I think, will make but little progress in the world. Another historical piece I forgot, which is Elisha restoring to life the Shunamite's son. The joy of the mother upon discovering the first symptoms of life in the child is pretty strongly expressed. Dr. Chovet's wax-work, in which all the various parts of the human body are represented for the benefit of young students in anatomy, and of which I gave you a particular description a year or two ago, was much more pleasing to me. Wax is much fitter to represent dead bodies than living ones. Upon a hint from one of our Commissioners abroad, we are looking about for American curiosities to send across the Atlantic as presents to the ladies. Mr. Rittenhouse's planetarium, Mr. Arnold's collection of varieties in the virtuoso way, which I once saw at Norwalk in Connecticut, Narraganset pacing mares, mooses, wood-ducks, flying squirrels, red-winged blackbirds, cranberries, and rattlesnakes have all been thought of. Is not this a pretty employment for great statesmen as we think ourselves to be? Frivolous as it seems, it may be of some consequence. Little attentions have great influence. I think, however, we ought to consult the ladies upon this point. Pray what is your opinion? FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 172: Mrs. Wright was the niece of John Wesley. Soon after this she went to England, where she made herself quite useful to the American cause. Mrs. Adams gives some account of her in one of her letters written from London in 1784.] 181. JOHN ADAMS. Philadelphia, 15 May, 1777.