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it very much, and I can tell you the story of each picture-I have read about them so often."

"You can bring that chair from the other side of the room and sit by me, if you like. I like pictures sometimes, if they are pretty, or funny," replied Lucy...

"I don't believe these are very funny," said Polly doubtfully, sitting down, and opening the book carefully.

"Oh! yes, this is a funny one," exclaimed Lucy, seizing the book, and looking at the picture of Pilgrim with the burden on his back. "Is this a peddler?"

"No; that burden rolled off after a while," answered Polly. "Rolled off!" repeated Lucy.

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"Where did it roll to?"

Polly tried to explain the meaning of the picture, which seemed to have struck Lucy's fancy, for she listened attentively for some time, and then finally interrupted her..

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Is this a fairy story you are telling, and is this a fairy tale book?"

"Oh! no," said Polly hastily. all; it is all true.".

"It isn't a fairy tale at

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"All true!" cried Lucy scornfully. “I don't believe a word of it."

Polly did not know exactly what to say, but then she tried again to explain the spiritual meaning of the picture, and how poor Pilgrim bore the burden of sin; but, though Lucy's eyes were fixed steadfastly on the picture, her thoughts were wandering, and she said suddenly,

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"Put your hand on my back:" and when Polly did so she asked,+

"Do you feel anything there?"

"I believe there is a little lump," said Polly, feeling very strangely, and wondering at Lucy's question.

"I expect it will grow as big as this man's was, for it is growing all the time now, and I know if there was any way for it to be taken off, my father would have it done.

He's rich enough to pay for it he is the richest man in this house."

"Does it pain you?" asked Polly compassionately.

"Sometimes it does, and sometimes it doesn't; it hurts most when the doctor tries to make me sit up straight.”

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Polly could not think of anything to say just at that moment. She wished that Grandmother Brown was with her; she always knew what was best to do, and Polly certainly could not tell Lucy that the lump on her back would fall off as Pilgrim's did.

"My father brings me home every single night something good," added Lucy, while Polly remained still silent. And he says he would give the last penny in his pocket to make me well."

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"He is very kind," answered Polly. "My father is away at sea."

"He often tells mother she ought to do more for me than for all the rest of the children put together; and sometimes she says she hasn't time. I like my father best."

"I can't remember my mother, for she died when I was a little baby. But I must go home now, for I told grandmother I wouldn't stay more than an hour, and I must take Pilgrim back with me." Polly held out her hand for the

book.

"Is this all you've got to tell me?" said Lucy in a fretful voice, holding the book back as Polly offered to take it.

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"I know a piece of poetry grandmother taught me," exclaimed Polly, suddenly thinking that this might come in usefully at the time. "I'll just tell you the first verse of it:"

My conscience is my crown,

Contented thoughts my rest;

My heart is happy in itself,
My bliss is in my breast.

"I don't think that is pretty, and I don't want to hear

any more of it," interrupted Lucy.

"Well, I must go. Please give me my book?”

"You must leave the book, for I want to keep it," said

Lucy.

"Grandmother will not like it-I cannot," she answered, "for she only lent it to me for this afternoon."

"Mother! Mother!" screamed Lucy, commencing to cry, and calling at the top of her voice; at which Mrs. Smith came running in, and found Polly with a very red face, and Lucy crying petulantly.

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'Isn't it mean, mother, for her to take away this book, when it amuses me?"

"I will take it home, and ask grandmother if she will lend it to you," replied Polly, trying to speak in a gentle voice.

"Here, take the book."

Mrs. Smith snatched it from Lucy, and handed it to her. "Here, take the book, and mind, don't come here again to fight and quarrel - with Lucy, and make her cry. I don't know what her father will say I suppose I will get all the blame for her."

She opened the door, and Polly ran quickly down-stairs, with Pilgrim safely under her arm, and hot, angry tears starting to her eyes as she hastened home to tell her grandmother about her unfortunate visit, and the rude way in which she had been received.

"It's too bad, too bad; but I am glad my book is at home you did right to bring it with you. Always take better care of other persons' property than of your own." "I will never go there again. Never!" exclaimed Polly indignantly.

"Hush my dear, don't speak rashly. You went, hoping to do some good; your heart and intention were pure and right, and we never regret an action when it is done from good motives. If you failed in the effort, the fault was not yours; you have done what you could, and who knows but what it may yet prove to have been 'bread cast upon the waters, which will be found after many days?""

"It does not seem so now," murmured Polly.

We

"No one can tell the final result of a good act. must leave the working out and end in the hand of Him who is the Author of every good thing, for we can safely believe that if we do our part, He will not forget our reward."

Administration of Torture in Rome.

OME, in her early days, was governed by the same general principles as Greece. Free citizens were exempted from torture, but the evidence of slaves was not admissible without it. When, however, the republic had given place to an empire, free citizens were subjected to torture "in all cases of crimen majestatis," or high treason. The foundation for this modification of the laws was laid by Octavius, of the second Triumvirate, who, fancying that a certain prætor had entered into a conspiracy against his life, caused him to be subjected to torture soon after, and put to death. Octavius became Emperor subsequently, and confirmed as law what he had been induced to exercise through his timid imagination. The custom of torture once established, imperial minds made it of constant use, even in cases where their own suspicions were the only evidence of the criminality of the victim. Tiberius exhausted his ingenuity in devising torments, and Caligula keenly enjoyed the torture of criminals, which he ordered to take place before his own eyes.

An appetite was soon formed for such scenes, and, as much ingenuity was resorted to for victims to feed it, as a caterer would use in providing tempting viands for the palate. The most flimsy pretexts were sufficient excuses

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for seizing upon any unsuspecting citizen, committing him to the rack, and then taking his life. Who has not heard of the atrocities of Nero? Did he wish to appear innocent of the conflagration of Rome? He caused Christians to endure terrible tortures, by which to wring from them confessions involving the whole sect.' The most inhuman cruelties were practised upon these people. They were deprived of the privileges of birth and station, and subjected to torture. Antoninus Pius promulgated certain rules in respect to the application of torture, limiting the age of those liable to torture to fourteen, directing that after confession no one should be subjected to the ordeal to implicate others, and sparing women in certain circumstances. These rules, however, were abolished, or added to by successive emperors, as their humanity or brutality suggested; for in some cases it must be allowed that brutal force outweighed human reason.

There seems to have been no limit fixed to the application of torture, and it doubtless rested with the tribunals to prescribe in each case the duration of the ordeal, according to the age, sex, or strength of the victim. Where many persons were to suffer together, the weakest were put to torture first. In regard to the modes of torture adopted by the Romans, antiquarian research has disclosed no special enumeration, but the rack, the scourge, hooks for tearing the flesh, and fire in its various forms, seem to have been the most prevalent.

Of the value of the evidence obtained by torture, different rulers held diverse opinions. Cicero seems to have been of no settled opinion regarding the value of confessions extracted from slaves, at times discrediting it, and again, speaking in its favour. Mr. Lea mentions instances like the following, which seem to show that little real weight was attached to evidence obtained by means of torture: slave of M. Agrius was accused of the murder of Alexan

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