all this wealth from the devouring ocean, which had possessed it for such a length of years. It seems as if men had no right to make themselves rich with it. It ought to have been left with the skeletons of the ancient Spaniards who had been drowned when the ship was wrecked, and whose bones were now scattered among the gold and silver.

But Captain Phips and his crew were troubled with no such thoughts as these. After a day or two they lighted on another part of the wreck, where they found a great many bags of silver dollars. But nobody could have guessed that these were money bags. By remaining so long in the salt water, they had become covered over with a crust which had the appearance of stone, so that it was necessary to break them in pieces with hammers and axes. When this was done, a stream of silver dollars gushed out upon the deck of the vessel.

The whole value of the recovered treasure, plate, bullion, precious stones, and all, was estimated at more than two millions of dollars. It was dangerous even to look at such a vast amount of wealth. A sea captain, who had assisted Phips in the enterprise, utterly lost his reason at the sight of it. He died two years afterwards, still raving about the treasures that lie at the bottom of the sea. It would have been better for this man if he had left the skeletons of the shipwrecked Spaniards in quiet possession of their wealth.

Captain Phips and his men continued to fish up plate, bullion, and dollars, as plentifully as ever, till their provision grew short. Then, as they could not feed upon gold and silver any more than old King Midas* could, they found it necessary to go in search of better sustenance. Phips resolved to return to England. He arrived there in 1687, and was received with great joy by the Duke of Albemarle and other English lords, who had fitted out the vessel. Well they might rejoice; for they took by far the greater part of the treasure to themselves.

*This alludes to a Greek legend, or story, in which a king named Midas is represented as having the power to turn every thing he touched into gold; in consequence of which he had nearly starved to death.

The captain's share, however, was enough to make him comfortable for the rest of his days. It also enabled him to fulfil his promise to his wife, by building a "fair brick house" in the Green Lane of Boston. The Duke of Albemarle sent Mrs. Phips a magnificent gold cup, worth at least five thousand dollars. Before Captain Phips left London, King James made him a knight; so that, instead of the obscure ship carpenter who had formerly dwelt among them, the inhabitants of Boston welcomed him on his return as the rich and famous Sir William Phips.

LXX. THE BIRD LET LOOSE.

MOORE.

THE bird let loose in eastern skies,
When hastening fondly home,
Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies
Where idle warblers roam.

But high she shoots through air and light,
Above all low delay,

Where nothing earthly bounds her flight,
Nor shadow dims her way.

So grant me, God, from every care
And stain of passion free,
Aloft, through virtue's purer air,
To hold my course to thee;
No sin to cloud, no lure to stay,

My soul, as home she springs,
Thy sunshine on her joyful way,
Thy freedom in her wings.

16*

THOU blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven's own blue, That openest when the quiet light Succeeds the keen and frosty night,

Thou comest not when violets lean
O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen,
Or columbines, in purple dressed,
Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest.

Thou waitest late, and comʼst alone,
When woods are bare and birds are flown,
And frosts and shortening days portend
The aged year is near his end.

Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye
Look through its fringes to the sky,
Blue-blue as if that sky let fall
A flower from its cerulean wall.

I would that thus, when I shall see
The hour of death draw near to me,
Hope, blossoming within my heart,
May look to heaven as I depart.

LXXII. THE MOSS ROSE.

THE Angel of the flowers one day
Beneath a rose tree sleeping lay ;·
That spirit to whose charge is given
To bathe young buds in dew from heaven.

Awakening from his slight repose,

The Angel whispered to the Rose,

66

"O, fondest object of my care,

Still fairest found where all is fair,

For the sweet shade thou hast given me,
Ask what thou wilt, 'tis granted thee.”
Then said the Rose, with deepened glow,-
"On me another grace bestow ;”.
The Angel paused in silent thought-
What grace was there the flower had not?
"Twas but a moment-o'er the Rose
A veil of moss the Angel throws,
And, robed in Nature's simplest weed,
Could there a flower that Rose exceed?

[Sir Walter Scott, one of the eminent names in English literature, was born in Edinburgh, August 15, 1771, and died September 21, 1832. His works, comprising poems, novels, and miscellanies, fill eighty-eight volumes.

This lesson is from the Tales of the Crusaders, one of the well-known series of romances commonly called the Waverley Novels. The scene is laid in Palestine, and the time is that of the third crusade. The principal characters are Richard, King of England, and Saladin, the Sultan of Syria and Egypt. Richard is received and entertained by Saladin at his place of encampment. De Vaux is an English nobleman, in attendance upon Richard.]

RICHARD now assumed the foremost place in his troop, aware that Saladin himself was approaching. Nor was it long, when, in the centre of his body guard, surrounded by his domestic officers, came the soldan, with the look and manners of one on whose brow Nature had written, This is a King! In his snow-white turban, vest, and wide Eastern trousers, wearing a sash of scarlet silk, without any other ornament, Saladin might have seemed the plainest dressed man in his own guard. But closer inspection discerned in his turban that inestimable

gem which was called, by the poets, the Sea of Light; the diamond on which his signet was engraved, and which he wore in a ring, was probably worth all the jewels of the English crown; and a sapphire, which terminated the hilt of his cimeter, was not of much inferior value. It should be added, that to protect him from the dust, which, in the vicinity of the Dead Sea, resembles the finest ashes, or perhaps out of Oriental pride, the soldan wore a sort of veil attached to his turban, which partly obscured the view of his noble features. He rode a milk-white Arabian, which bore him as if conscious and proud of his noble burden.

There was no need of farther introduction. The two heroic monarchs for such they were threw themselves at once from horseback, and the troops halting and the music suddenly ceasing, they advanced to meet each other in profound silence; and, after a courteous inclination on either side, they embraced as brethren and equals. The pomp and display upon both sides attracted no further notice - no one saw aught save Richard and Saladin, and they too beheld nothing but each other. The looks with which Richard surveyed Saladin were, however, more intently curious than those which the soldan fixed upon him; and the soldan also was the first to break silence.

"The Melech Ric* is welcome to Saladin as water to this desert. I trust he hath no distrust of this numerous array? Excepting the armed slaves of my household, those who surround you with eyes of wonder and of welcome, are, even the humblest of them, the privileged nobles of my thousand tribes; for who, that could claim a title to be present, would remain at home when such a prince was to be seen as Richard, with the terrors of whose name, even on the sands of Yemen,† the nurse stills her child, and the free Arab subdues his restive steed?"

"And these are all nobles of Araby?" said Richard, look

* The name by which King Richard was called by the Saracens. † Arabia.