certainty, that they were mistaken-that instead of an angel, each had been joined to a piece of fallible humanity, not deficient, possibly, in some seraphic qualities, but possessing others to which seraphs can lay no claim. What are they to do? By all means let them do as the Bible bids them do. 'Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil-speaking, be put away from you, with all malice; and be ye kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you.' Let them bear and forbear. Let them treat each other's failings with lenity, and avoid all provocations to anger. Let them learn to be, as occasion serves, blind, and deaf, and dumb-especially dumb. Not silently dumb, but serenely dumb. Not silent from moodishness and passion, but silent from reason and affection, looking out, the while, like a mariner in a dark night, for the first streak of the dawn, and hailing it with a grateful welcome. Let them beware how they manage the trivial matters of life; for human happiness depends much on trifles, and it is 'the little foxes that spoil the vines.'” TWO MUTES. BY JOSEPH MOUNT, "THE JERSEY MUTE." the Three Judsons; the works of Edgar A. Poe; the Art of Painting; Annals of the Queens of Spain; Memoirs of the Queens of France; Memoir of Anne Boleyn; Pictorial History of France; Fowler on Marriage; Architecture of Birds; Mothers' Magazine; Outlines of Disordered Mental Action; Mrs. Hale's Record of Distinguished Women; Hamilton on Education; Life of Martin Luther; Oliver Cromwell; and Oriental Acquaint ances. saw. My friends are both of a hasty temper; but such a perfect combination of forbearance and affection, in a couple equally ill-tempered, I never Excited as they may be, but their better spirit prevails over them, and their love all the more ardent for the slight misunderstanding, gushes forth a full volume. The wife has taken to kissing her husband often and often; it would indeed seem that, since her marriage, she has considered kissing the great object of her life, I might almost say, the great end of her efforts. Even in the presence of a stranger, she will press her lips upon those of him she loves best. Last summer she went to the country to spend a few weeks with her friends; and she tried to make up for the loss to her husband of the pleasure of her society, upon which he, as it were, fattened, by writing to him twice a week. When he returns home tired, and in bad humor, she fawns upon him, and by dint of tender attentions succeeds in driving dull care away from his brow. In his absence I on educated in the Deaf and Dumb Institute at Philadelphia. The husband makes seven hundred dollars a year in his profession. Both he and his wife strive to improve their natural possessions and gifts of body and mind, with the view of qualifying themselves to shine in society. One, to see them well improved, would think that they were endowed with all their faculties. They spend their evenings in reading and corresponding with their friends at a distance. The husband takes the "Southern Light" and "Harper's Weekly;" his wife, "Graham's Magazine" and the "National Magazine." This pair have a handsome bookcase, which contains a most excellent selection of books. The following catalogue is only a specimen of the whole: American Annals of the Deaf and Dumb, volumes 1, 2, and 3; Genius of the West, volumes 1, 2, and 3; Woodworth's Fireside Museum; Wright's Lectures; Bijarra, volumes 1, 2, 3, and 4; Olmsted's Astronomy; the American in Paris; the Parlor Book of Flowers; the Alps in Switzerland; the Youth of Madame De Longueville; Weber's Outlines of Universal History; Lives of herself a man of business. If something happens to detain him beyond the time appointed for his return, she will hunt him out, even in the midst of a storm; nothing short of the discovery of his whereabouts will satisfy her-so devotedly does she love him. Before her marriage, she scarcely thought of the importance of prayer, by which to make her wants known to God; but, now that she is bound by law to live with the man of her choice till death, she feels the necessity of offering a prayer to Him for the preservation of her husband, and does pray in the morning and evening. Her husband's income is not sufficient to support a family decently, and therefore his wife practices the most rigid economy, denying to herself many of the elegances of life, in the hope of securing to him at last the possession of a dwelling where they can live permanently. My friends read, and even write, side by side, for the idea of sitting aloof from each other is foreign to them. Turn which way the one may, the other stands shoulder to shoulder with him or her. They are, in short, all in all to each other. It is the wife's peculiarity to fancy that it would be highly criminal in a wife not to share with her husband any thing, such, for example, as a cake, apple, candy, or pie. So she will not eat any thing till her husband joins her. She sighs to think that he is obliged to work for a living. She says that if she had five thousand dollars in her own right, she would be most glad to give every cent of her money to him, and so place him above reach of want. She once offered to take in sewing, and thereby add to his income; but it was objected to on the ground that she was of a delicate constitution. I remember with what a grave smile she used to receive the visits of her husband previous to their marriage. But it is to me strange that it was not till she had taken the final vows at the altar that she descended from her cold hights of reserve, and exposed to him the treasures of a heart deep in affection. If you speak to her against him, you may be assured that she will not only shoot indignant glances at you, but will cut your acquaintance. She idolizes him as a fond parent his first-born child. She watches the play of his countenance as they sit vis-a-vis. She is versed in all the graces of "small talk," and writes with ease. No person of refined taste can tire of writing with her. Ah! words are mighty things; who can stand unmoved before them? They burn or melt; they scorch or warm; they curse or bless. Sharper than a two-edged sword they fall from the lips of anger or scorn; sweeter than honey from the honey-comb they drop from the fond lips of love. Words soothe and calm the troubled spirit; they comfort the afflicted and oppressed; or they lash the waves of passion into fury. Words sting like serpents; they gnash, and rend, and tear, like raving wolves; they cleave through nerve and marrow, making wounds whose ragged edges never heal; whose unsightly scars will never pass away. Those scars may indeed be hidden from sight, covered over by the withered leaves and flowers that choke and molder in every human heart, or by the shattered wrecks of the dead hopes and joys that are forever settling slowly, surely downward to a grave from which there is on earth no resurrection; but they are there, and there they stay forever. Words, gentle, sincere, and kind, from a warm heart, make friends which death hath not power to sever; and the harsh and angry word oft makes a lifelong enemy. Words! words! words! how they rush and ring! Along the highway; by the sheltered pathway; in the valley and the meadow; on the mountain, through the forest, and the village; by the river-side, along the shore, and on the sea. The most remote and quiet hamlet hath its countless words, while through town and city they roll and swell with deep, continuous roar. Who can tell the sum of them? And yet for every word that man shall speak God shall bring Diverse in nature, they are mighty engines both him into judgment. O, words are fearful things! of joy and sorrow. There are words whose memory never dies, and words which pass with the breath of the speaker away; there are words which carry healing to the sad heart, and words which crush or uproot the young, joyful hopes of the bravest spirit. There are words which cheer and inspire, renewing the courage of those ready to perish, and sending the thrill of life and hope even through the cold bosom of despair. There are words which make the soul of the weeper to sing for joy; which cause that poor, suffering thing, the human heart-that sport of passion, and that fount of tears-to reel beneath its overpowering load of rapture; and words there be that cause it to shiver and shrink away into the chill darkness of a hopeless night. ANGELS. BY R. MARIA BECK. ANGELS oft are bending o'er us, Though we know not they are near, Whispering to us very gently, Of that far-off happy sphere. And when grief's sad tears are falling Over buried hope and love, Then they sweetly, kindly whisper, "There's a truer clime above." When, amid earth's sweetest pleasures, We are plucking fairest flowers, Angels whisper, "These are lovely, But more lovely Eden's bowers." Thus they ever lure us onward, From this world of care and sin, Till the emerald gates shall open, And we gladly enter in. PIZARRO AND THE CONQUEST OF PERU. A skillful in the use of the bow and the spear; and though they were unequal to a warfare with the Spaniards, it was not easy to subdue them. Nearly a year had been spent in this enterprise, when new events suddenly recalled Almagro to Peru. BY THE EDITOR. (CONCLUDED.) FTER the death of Atahualpa, the spirit of the people was so broken that Pizarro found little difficulty in quelling the indications of rebellion that event excited. He went through the mockery of investing a son of the murdered Inca with the insignia of imperial authority; and upon his death, soon after, Manco Capac, a half-brother of Atahualpa, was enthroned as the legitimate successor at Cuzco. The force at Cuzco had been greatly weakened not only by the departure of Pizarro and Almagro, but also by the detachments it was necessary to place in different parts of the empire. The Peruvians perceiving this determined to rise and destroy the invaders. Secretly the work of preparation went on. Troops and munitions of war were gathered from every part of the empire. When the plot was ripe for consummation, Manco Capac effected his escape, and immediately raised the standard of war. Two hundred thousand men, it is said, invested the city of Cuzco. At the same time another army surrounded Lima, and cut off all communication between the two cities. It was the report of these events that led Almagro to retrace his steps. We do not mean, however, that he returned to succor his beleaguered brethren. Far from it. The city of Cuzco had been in dispute between him and Pizarro; but rather than break with his rival, he had waived the final adjustment of the controversy, and proceeded to the invasion of Chili. But the patents having now arrived from Spain, he became satisfied that Cuzco was included in his. On his arrival at Cuzco he found that the Peru Pizarro had not miscalculated the effect of permitting such of his men as desired it, to return, after the robbery of Caxamalca and of the gold accumulated with the vain hope of redeeming the captive Inca. The immense wealth brought back by these men, and the report of the successes of Pizarro, and of the exhaustless wealth of the country he had subjected, operated with electric power throughout the provinces of Panama, Nicaragua, and Guatemala. The governors could hardly restrain the inhabitants from abandoning, en masse, those provinces, and joining their fortunes with those of the Peruvian invader. Large reinforcements-more indigent and rapacious, if possible, than the first adventurers-speedily arrived; and Pizarro, pushing his way onward, soon took possession of Cuzco, the capital of the empire. Manco Capac became his captive, and the quantities of gold and silver obtained in despoil-vians had already made themselves masters of ing the palaces and temples, were immense. Quiet being restored to the country, Pizarro left in command Ferdinand, his brother, and returned to the coast. Here he founded, in 1534, the city of Lima, which was for a long time the grand commercial entrepot for all the western coast of South America. In the mean time Benalcazar, who had been left in command of the post near the mouth of the Pinza, taking with him a division of the recruits who were continually arriving, penetrated into the country in the direction of Quito, and after incredible hardships and immeasurable conflicts with the natives, effected the conquest of that city. To Almagro a grant had been made of one hundred leagues along the coast of Chili. He now departed for the conquest of that empire. As they advanced south, his men suffered severely from the increasing rigors of the climate. Some of them perished with the cold. They found also a formidable race of men to contend with. They were strong and vigorous, clad in the skins of seals and sea-wolves, exceedingly VOL. XVII.-23 a large part of the city, and that Ferdinand and Gonzalez Pizarro, with a small remnant of their men, were hemmed in, and fighting with the desperation of tigers. Juan Pizarro, in a daring attempt to storm a tower, had been slain. In this siege, which had lasted nine months, the Peruvians displayed a bravery and fought with a desperation worthy of their cause. But what could their undisciplined masses accomplish against marshaled veterans with their terrible agencies of death? In the midst of this state of affairs, Almagro appeared before Cuzco. To the beleaguered Pizarros it afforded a gleam of hope, yet they hardly knew whether to regard him as a friend or a foe. The Inca, knowing the hostility between him and Pizarro, attempted to make terms with Almagro. But this was probably only a decoy, or perhaps, if not already convinced of the fact, he soon learned that no faith could be kept with a Spaniard; for he suddenly fell upon him at the head of an immense body of his bravest men. conflict was furious, but of short duration. The Peruvians were totally defeated. The slaughter The was immense. Almagro immediately invested the little garrison of his surviving countrymen. He succeeded in surprising the sentinels, and having surrounded the house where Ferdinand and Gonzalez were quartered, he compelled them and the entire garrison to surrender at discretion. While these things were transpiring at Cuzco, Pizarro had succeeded in defeating the Peruvians at Lima. That accomplished, he immediately sent five hundred men, under the command of Alvarado, to relieve his brothers, if, indeed, they had not already fallen. On arriving at Cuzco, their astonishment can easily be conceived at finding their most fearful enemy in their own countrymen. Almagro, at first, attempted to induce them to join his ranks; but failing in this, he suddenly fell upon them and cut them to pieces. Pizarro was now thoroughly aroused; but as his two brothers were still in the hands of his enemy, he proceeded cautiously and coolly-at first proposing terms of accommodation. Negotiations were prolonged several months, til at length they had progressed so far that Ferdinand and Gonzalez were given up. No sooner was this effected than Pizarro threw off all disguise, and prepared for the final conflict. Seven hundred men, under the command of his two brothers, marched upon Cuzco. Their appetite for vengeance had been thoroughly inflamed by their former defeat and captivity. Almagro had five hundred veteran soldiers, and might have withstood the assault; but he was now old and infirm, and his recent extraordinary efforts had greatly broken him down. He was, therefore, compelled to commit the command to one of his generals. It was an extraordinary scene. Countrymen and brethren, thousands of miles from their country and home, were in the heart of a strange land, about to engage in deadly strife. It is said that the Indians, like distant clouds, covered the mountains, and viewed with equal astonishment and gratification the awful spectacle. Up to this time they had been the principal victims of the rapacity and violence of the invaders; now they beheld with joy, not unmingled with awe, that rapacity and violence about to recoil upon its perpetrators. The conflict was terrific. The army of Almagro was defeated. One hundred and forty of his men were left dead upon the field, and the rest surrendered at discretion. Almagro, in the distance, watched the progress of the battle from a litter on which he was borne; and when he witnessed the defeat of his troops he attempted to flee, but was speedily captured. Although little was to be apprehended from one so far advanced in age and so thoroughly subdued, no gleam of generosity toward an old companion and friend, or of pity for the gray hairs of the drooping veteran, appeared. He was condemned to the scaffold. The aged soldier, it is said, shrunk from the ignominy of his fate. "He even stooped to entreaties to save his life. But when he found his enemies inexorable, he resumed his fortitude, and met his fate with a calmness worthy of his reputation." Pizarro was now the undisputed master of the whole country, and he parceled it out among his favorites, the historian quaintly remarks, "with as much justice and propriety as the Pope had granted the whole of it to his master." But his triumph, though apparently complete, was of short duration, and the man of violence and blood speedily met a fate similar to that he had meted out to thousands. His arbitrary conduct produced discontent, and finally led to a wide-spread and powerful conspiracy, at the head of which were the followers of Almagro, who had received but little consideration in the division of the spoils. A son of the veteran Almagro had now arrived to man's estate; and was endowed, even in a higher degree, with the qualities which had made his father a favorite with his soldiers. Around him the malcontents rallied as by common consent. Pizarro, rendered presumptuous by the success that had ever followed in his footsteps, took no notice of the gathering storm. While he was still reposing in the fancied security which the terror of his name inspired, the conspiracy came suddenly to maturity, and, singularly enough, the first bolt fell upon his own head. On the 26th of June, 1541, a party of the conspirators broke into his palace and assaulted his person. He defended himself with desperation ; but he fell overpowered by numbers and covered with wounds, and, being pierced through the neck, immediately expired. Such was the end of this adventurer. After seventeen years of unexampled toil, suffering, and exposure, amid scenes of turmoil, cruelty, and carnage, and without a single hour of peace or repose, he closed his wild and bloody career, leaving behind him none to inherit illy-acquired titles and estates, or to hand dowr his name to posterity. A little over three hundred years had passed, when a solitary traveler, visiting the city of Lima, had the curiosity to search out the last restingplace of the conqueror of Peru. "A small piece of silver," says he, "dropped into the hand of the attending sacristan, procured me admission into the crypt under the high altar, where are deposited the remains of the celebrated Pizarro, who was assassinated in the palace hard by. Descending a few steps, I entered a small place, some twenty feet long, quite light and whitewashed, and which smelt and looked so much like a comfortable wine-cellar, that I caught myself more than once looking round for the bins and bottles. The first object I saw was a large square tomb, surmounted by the erect figure of an abbot, and close by, in a narrow opening in the wall, I noticed what appeared to me to be a collection of dusty rags, but a closer inspection proved that this was all that remained of the renowned conqueror of Peru. He has still on him the clothes and shoes which he wore at the time of his assassination. Of course his body is nothing but a skeleton covered with dried flesh and skin, so that no features are discernible. The body is covered with the remains of what was white linen, swathed round him; but the dust of centuries has collected on it, and turned it to a light brown color, and it almost pulverizes when touched. The body is placed on a narrow piece of plank, in a sloping position, and has been placed in this hole merely to put it out of the way. The folks in Lima do not think any thing of the remains of poor Pizarro; and I dare say that a little money, judiciously invested, would procure for any curiosityhunter the whole of his remains." After the death of Pizarro the young Almagro was placed at the head of the government. But in a government founded as the Spanish dominion had been in Peru, and composed of such elements, little quiet could be expected. One brief paragraph from the historian of the time comprises the whole history of the new government. The shocking dissension in Peru being known to the court of Castile, Vaca de Castro received a royal commission, appointing him Governor of Peru, for the purpose of quieting the existing disturbances, and establishing the authority of the Spanish Government. Having reached Quito, he immediately and with great energy adopted measures to suppress the insurrection, and bring the daring conspirators to punishment. He marched toward Cuzco, whither Almagro had retired. The hostile parties met at Chupaz, about two hundred miles from Cuzco, and both determined to decide the contest at once. The action was bloody and decisive, and characterized by that fierceness, impetuosity, and vindictive spirit which the deadly animosities of both parties were calculated to inspire; and the slaughter was in proportion to the maddening fury of the combatants. Of fourteen hundred men the whole number engaged on both sides more than one thousand lay wounded and dead on the field of battle. Superiority of numbers prevailed, and young Almagro and his party, or all who escaped the sword, fell into the hands of the victors. And although they were countrymen and fellow-Christians, the tender mercies of their conquerors were cruelties; forty were executed as rebels; some were banished, and young Almagro, their leader, was publicly beheaded at Cuzco." With his execution the family of Almagro became extinct. Thus, before the end of the year 1542, another complete revolution, had been effected in the Spanish government of Peru. We said that Pizarro left behind him no one to bear his name to posterity. The same was true of his three brothers; or, at least, it is quite certain that, on their death, the family name became extinct. Hernando had been sent to Spain, immediately after the death of Almagro, to propitiate the Spanish court. Here he was arrested for his high-handed outrages, and imprisoned in a Spanish fortress, where he remained a close prisoner twenty years. During this period he experienced only a succession of sorrows; his kindred and friends either perished or became powerless; most of his ill-gotten gains were confiscated, and a large portion of the remainder wasted in vexatious and unceasing litigation. His fame was blighted, and he was looked upon as a huge robber and a cold-blooded murderer. In 1560 he was released from prison; but he had now become old, and was completely broken in spirit. Yet he lived on, stricken by retributive justice, an object equally of pity and abhorrence, surviving the cotemporary actors, whether friends or foes, in the bloody drama of Peru, and finally ending his career after having attained to the great age of nearly one hundred years. Gonzalez filled a wider space in history. He had been appointed, by his brother, Governor of Quito, with instructions to explore the region beyond the Andes. The mountainous country to the east of Quito was reported, by the Indians, to abound in cinnamon and other aromatic productions. To reach those remote and wild regions, mountains covered with perpetual snow must be crossed, trackless forests of unknown extent traversed, and the journey throughout be attended with still greater dangers from the hostile tribes of Indians through which they must pass. Yet Gonzalez Pizarro undertook the perilous task. In 1540 he commenced his journey, having under his command three hundred and fifty Spaniards and over four thousand Indians. He boldly forced his way through the defiles and over the mountain ridges of the Andes. The |