JVIED RUINS. 87 



bee extracts its first food, and the late blooming of 

 this ivy, are indispensable provisions for the exist- 

 ence of many of the insect race ; the " young raven 

 does not cry in vain/' nor is any thing abandoned 

 by that power which called it into being. 

 We all seem to love the ivy, 



" The wanton ivy wreath'd in amorous twines," 

 more than any other uncultured evergreen that we 

 possess ; yet it is difficult satisfactorily to answer 

 why we have this regard for it. As a lover of the 

 lone, the ivy-mantled ruin, I have often questioned 

 with myself the cause and basis of my regard for 

 that, which was but a fragment of what might have 

 been formerly splendid, and intrinsically possessed 

 but little to engage admiration, yet wreathed in the 

 verdure of the ivy, was admired ; but was never satis- 

 fied, perhaps unwilling to admit the answer that my 

 mind seemed to give. The ivy is a dependant plant, 

 and delights in waste and ruin. We do not often 

 tolerate its growth when the building is in repair 

 and perfect ; but, if time dilapidate the edifice, the 

 ivy takes possession of the fragment, and we call it 

 beautiful ; it adorns the castle, but is an indispen- 

 sable requisite to the remains of the monastic pile. 

 There is an abbey in the North of England, which 

 has been venerated by all its late possessors. It is 

 trimmed, made neat, and looks, perhaps, much as 

 it did formerly, except being in ruins. The situa- 

 tion is exquisite, the remains are splendid, yet with 



