of all, for he created all. All the men, and all the women who are alive in the wide world, are his children; he loveth all, he is good to all.

The king governeth his people; he hath a golden crown upon his head, and the royal sceptre in his hand; he sitteth upon a throne, and sendeth forth his commands; his subjects fear before him; if they do well, he protecteth them from danger; and if they do evil, he punisheth them.

But who is the sovereign of the king? Who commandeth him what he must do? Whose hand is stretched out to protect him from danger? If he do evil who shall punish him?

God is the sovereign of the king; his crown is a crown of glory, and his throne is in heaven above. He is King of kings, and Lord of lords; if he bid us live, we live; if he bid us die, we die; his dominion is over all worlds, and the light of his countenance is upon all his works.

God is our shepherd, therefore, we will follow him; God is our father, therefore, we will love him; God is our king, therefore, we will obey him.

LESSON 25.

Pizarro and the Inca of Peru.

When Pizarro landed in Peru, he soon discovered that there were dissentions in the empire between two brothers, to whom the two grand provinces of the kingdom were left. Huascar was to have the old kingdom of Cusco, and Atahualpa the lately conquered kingdom of Quito. The latter had a vast army and determined to rule both. He soon subdued his brother and took him prisoner. Pizarro, therefore, was not opposed in his march up the country, because all parties were too busy in their private quarrels to pay strict attention to his

movements. Indeed each party hoped to obtain the assistance of these terrible strangers, and therefore rather aimed to conciliate than contend.

Pizarro proceeded till he came very near the camp of Atahualpa. Embassies, presents, and professions of friendship took place between them, and concluded by a promise from the Inca to pay the Spaniards a visit. Accordingly he came in great pomp. He was seated in a palanquin, richly adorned with gold, precious stones and feathers. While all appeared peaceable and friendly, on a sudden the drums beat, the cannon roared, the cavalry galloped among the astonished Peruvians, and all was confusion and despair.

Pizarro attacked the forces which surrounded the Inca, penetrated to his palanquin, tore him from his seat, and dragged him towards his own head quarters. The Inca, thus a prisoner, soon perceived that the ruling passion with these Spaniards was the love of gold; hence he indulged a hope of gaining his liberty. The room in which he was confined was twenty-two feet long, by sixteen wide; the Inca offered to fill it with golden vessels, as high as he could reach, for his ransom.

This offer was accepted, and Atahualpa despatched orders throughout his empire to bring in the needed treasures. But when all was punctually paid, in vain did the Inca solicit for his liberty. The hearts of Pizarro and his companions were cold to the feelings of kindness, and dead to the dictates of honor and justice.

None of the European arts so much delighted the Inca, as reading and writing. He wanted to know whether this was natural to them all, or acquired by education. He requested therefore, one of the soldiers to write the name of their God on his thumb nail. He then presented his thumb to every one who came near him; to his great surprise he found that they all pronounced it exactly

alike. At length Pizarro came in, and he asked him the same question. Pizarro, who in his youth had not learned to read, was under the necessity of telling the Inca he did not know. From that moment Atahualpa seemed to despise him as a person of no education.

Pizarro could not bear being treated with contempt, and that too by an Indian. A plot was soon laid, charging the Inca with an intention to massacre all the Spaniards. In vain the Inca protested his innocence; his judges thirsted for his blood, and he was condemned to die.'

The conduct of Pizarro was extremely tyrannical. His cruelty and treachery to the Peruvian princes was hateful; and when all opposition on their part, had ceased, he showed the same spirit in his conduct towards his principal officers. Such treatment induced them to assemble and concert a

plan of revenge. And one day, at noon, when he little expected such an attack, they rushed upon him and slew him.

LESSON 26.

The Swan.

The swan is one of the largest of water-fowls. Its motions on the land are awkward, and its neck is stretched forward with an air of stupidity; but when seen smoothly gliding along the water, displaying a thousand graceful attitudes, and moving at pleasure without the smallest apparent effort, there is not a more beautiful figure in all nature.

The swan is the most silent of all the feathered tribes; it can do little more than hiss, which it does on receiving any provocation. Its chief food is corn, bread, herbs growing in the water, and roots and seeds which are found near the margin. It lays seven or eight white eggs, much larger than those of a goose, and sits six weeks before its young are hatched.

It is not a little dangerous to approach the old ones, when their little family are feeding round them. Their fears as well as their pride seem to take the alarm, and when in danger, the old birds carry off the young on their back. A female has been known to attack and drown a fox, which was swimming towards her nest. They are able to throw down and trample on youths of fifteen or sixteen! and an old swan can break the leg of a man with a single stroke of its wing.

Few creatures of any kind are so famed for longevity as the swan; its common age is said to be from eighty to a hundred years. It is said, in fable, that the swan dies singing in sweet and animating tones.

LESSON 27.

The Cat, a Beast of Prey.

Mary and Fanny with their young brother, Thomas, were on a visit at their grandmother's. Miss Emily Stewart, their aunt, lived in the same house. One day, Miss Stewart, saw Thomas running towards her with a face full of indignation, and as soon as he came near enough, he exclaimed, with a threatening look, "I wish I could kill your cat, aunt !" and turning to Mary, who was just coming into the room, "do you know," said he, "that grandmother's cat is really worse than our cat at home! for our cat only kills mice, and that very seldom; but this cat kills birds, real live birds?"

Fanny laughed, and Thomas stopped to think why; but he went on again in the same strain, declaring that the cat ought to be killed, and that he would beat her himself, if she did not run so terribly fast.

"Do not beat her," said Mary; "grandmother might not like it; besides, I am not sure that it is worse to kill birds than mice."

"And, I am not sure," interrupted Fanny, "that it is worse to kill birds than cows."

"I should think," said Thomas, with great simplicity, "that a cat could not kill a cow, or even a sheep."

"A cat! no; but a man could, and does very often," said Fanny; so it is not quite fair to punish the poor cat, who perhaps does not know any better."

"It is very strange," exclaimed Mary, "very shocking, that one animal should like to feed upon another; and then the cat does not kill animals as