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induced Pizarro to play this treacherous part. grudge, if we may use the expression, which he felt towards the Inca arose from his own deficient education. Atahualpa admired, more than any other European

acquirements, the arts of reading and writing. One day he desired a soldier who guarded him to write the name of God on the nail of his thumb. This he showed to several Spaniards, asking its meaning, and to his amazement they all gave the same reply, "Dios"- God. At length Pizarro entered, and he presented it to him.

The hot blood

mounted to the brow of the Spanish captain, and he had to confess that he had never learned to read. Pizarro hated the Inca ever afterwards, and when opportunity served, brought him to trial on a frivolous charge, and had him strangled and burnt in the market place.

Now there was one man—and bad as he was, he had evinced a better spirit than his companions-who had been with Pizarro from the beginning of his Peruvian adventures. He was called Almanzo. After the death of the Inca, a feud sprang up between the two men, which ripened into deadly hatred. Almanzo fell into the hands of Pizarro, and was cruelly put to death. The Spanish governor remonstrated, and shut up Pizarro's brother in prison; but the Spaniard had grown reckless-defiant-and he ruled as a tyrant, not only over the miserable Peruvians, but over his own people. A conspiracy was formed for his assassination. Pizarro heard of the plot, but laughed it to scorn. It was the laugh of a fool. His death was certain-the conspirators were determined men. As they crossed the public square on their murderous mission, one of their number turned aside to avoid a pool of water; a dark frown sat on the brow of their leader:

"What! afraid of wetting your feet," he cried, "when you will have to wade up to your knees in blood? Go, man, you are not fit for this work!"

Pizarro had dined; and surrounded by a few friends, was reclining at his ease, planning fresh conquests, dreaming not of danger. There was a loud, wild shriek-the tramping of many feet upon the stairs-a few hasty words that told how Death was coming-then swords flashed in the light, and blade grated against blade. There was a fierce attack, and fierce defence. Pizarro tried to buckle on his armour, but failed, and enveloping one arm in his cloak, sprang like a lion on his foes. What, ho!" he cried, "traitors, have ye come to kill me in my own house?' As he spoke, he plunged his sword into the body of the nearest man. They were fighting in a narrow passage, where only one man could advance at a time. Pizarro defended this passage bravely. The conspirators drew back, and there was a moment's pause. Why do we

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loiter?" cried one. 'Down with the traitor!" They rushed forward. One man was thrown into the arms of Pizarro, who ran him through with his sword; but at that moment he received a wound in his throat, and sank on the floor.

Surrounded on every side-the swords of the conspirators plunged into his body--Pizarro looked around him with a fierce scowl of defiance; then he dipped his finger in the blood that flowed, made on the ground the sign of the cross, and died with one word on his lips-JESUS!

Such was the end of Francis Pizarro. He had, no doubt, added to the territory of Spain, and helped to fill her coffers; he was certainly a man of strong will

and great animal courage; but he was a cruel, rapacious tyrant, and perished miserably. Very different was his whole career from that of Columbus; very different is the position which he occupies in history.

Among our group of adventurers, we now turn our attention to a thoroughly English face-honest, sagacious, sailor-like and we know it for Humphrey Gilbert, knighted by her most gracious Majesty Queen Bess.

On a projecting angle of land, about two miles above the port of Dartmouth, and running out into the river at the head of one of its most beautiful reaches, stood the old manor house of Greenaway. It was a fine old pile, the water running to it from the sea, and the largest vessels anchored with safety within a stone's throw of its windows. There in the latter half of the sixteenth century was born Humphrey Gilbert; and with him Adrian, and young Walter Raleigh. He often played at sailing in the reaches of Long Stream. Depend upon it those boys' hearts beat high as they heard the wonderful stories told of the new earth beyond the sunset ; and that as they guided their little boat among the black hulls of the ships in the port, each one wished he had a ship of his own, or a ship between the three, that they might go "meandering" over the world to see strange sights, of which, as yet, they had scarcely heard. Young Humphrey turned his attention, as he grew older, to the correction of mathematical instruments and naval sea cards; and the more he studied, the more firmly convinced he became, that a north-west passage to the New World was yet to be discovered, and that its discovery would tend to promote the commercial prosperity of his own country, and lead to the more rapid colonization of the New World. He insisted so frequently on these important matters, that his suggestions at last reached the ear of Walsingham, and through Walsingham were conveyed to the queen. Gilbert was examined before the queen's majesty, and the privy council. Many of his suggestions were very wild, and are now calculated to cause a smile; but there shone through them all a soundness of sense-candour-honesty, that cannot be too much admired. He has left a paper

narrating his interview with the council; and whatever we may think of some of his schemes, the words with which the memorial concludes, must commend themselves to every heart.

Never, therefore, mislike with me for taking in hand any laudable and honest enterprise, for if through pleasure or idleness we purchase shame, the pleasure vanisheth, but the shame abideth for ever.

“Give me leave, therefore, without offence, always to live and die in this mind: that he is not worthy to live at all that, for fear or danger of death, shunneth his country's service and his own honour, seeing that death is inevitable and the fame of virtue immortal, wherefore in this behalf mutare vel timere sperno."

Humphrey Gilbert undertook two voyages at his own cost. These voyages shattered his fortune and failed. In June 1583, a large fleet of fine ships sailed from the port of Dartmouth with commission from the queen for the discovery and taking possession of new lands. The queen had a foreboding that she had seen Gilbert for the last time; his picture was therefore taken before he went, and the queen sent him a jewel in token of her favour.

The fleet consisted of the Diligent, 120 tons; the barque Raleigh, 200 tons; the Golden Hinde, and the Swallow, 40 tons each; and the Squirrel, 10 tons. The number of men was about 260. The expedition reached Newfoundland without accident. St. John's was taken possession of, and a colony left there. The American coast to the south was then explored, chiefly by Sir Humphrey himself, in his ten ton frigate; a vessel, by the way, of which it has been said, that a member of the Yacht Club would consider he had gained a club-room immortality if he had ventured therein a run in the depth of winter from Corra to the Channel Islands.

The exploration of the coast was attended with difficulty and danger. A terrible storm arose; and of the five ships which sailed from England, but two remained, the Golden Hinde and the Squirrel. Provisions were rapidly failing; the seamen were on short rations; the summer season was closing; and Sir Humphrey was at

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