Such was the ancient empire of Peru, when Francisco Pizarro, an obscure Spanish adventurer, with an army of only sixty-two horsemen and a hundred or two foot-soldiers, determined to invade it. He, like all the other Spaniards who went out to South America, was thirsting to obtain gold. These men, miscalled _Christians_, gave up their hearts and souls to the worship of mammon, and they committed every horrible crime to obtain riches. But the _Christian_ who now _cheats_ his neighbor in a quiet way-of-trade manner, to obtain wealth--is he better than those Spaniards? I fear not. Had he the temptation and the opportunity, he would do as they did. At the time Pizarro invaded Peru, there was a civil war raging between Atahualpa, the reigning monarch, or Inca, as he was called, and his brother Huascar. These brothers were so engaged in their strife, that Pizarro had marched into the country without being opposed, and entered the city of Caxamala on the 15th of November, 1532. Here the army of the Inca met the Spaniards. Pizarro was sensible he could not contend with such a multitude, all well armed and disciplined, so he determined by craft to get possession of the person of the Inca. He sent to invite the Inca to sup with him in the city of Caxamala, and promised then to give an account of his reasons for coming to Peru. The simple-hearted Inca believed the Spaniards were children of the sun. Now the Inca worshiped the sun, and thought he himself had descended from that bright luminary. He was very anxious, therefore, to see the Spaniards, and could not believe they meant to injure him; so he consented to visit Pizarro. Atahualpa took with him twenty thousand warriors, and these were attended by a multitude of women as bearers of the luggage, when he set out to visit the Spaniards. The person of the sovereign was one blaze of jewels. He was borne on a litter plated with gold, overshadowed with plumes, and carried on the shoulders of his chief nobles. On his forehead he had the sacred tuft of scarlet, which he wore as the descendant of the sun. The whole moved to the sound of music, with the solemnity of a religious procession. [Illustration: _The Inca putting the Bible to his ear._] When the Inca entered the fatal gates from which he was never to return, his curiosity was his chief emotion. Forgetting the habitual Oriental gravity of the throne, he started up, and continued standing as he passed along, gazing with eagerness at every surrounding object. A friar, named Valverde, now approached, bearing a cross and a Bible. The friar commenced his harangue by declaring that the pope had given the Indies to Spain; that the Inca was bound to obey; that the book he carried contained the only true mode of worshiping Heaven. “Where am I to find your religion?” said the Inca. “In this book,” replied the friar.