THE YEW. 121 



three miles from the latter place, there is a road 

 across the fields, which leads the pedestrian through 

 a sequestered burial-ground belonging to a small 

 chapel, into a retired and beautifully wooded lane ; 

 at the bottom of which he is brought into full view, 

 all at once, of Fountains' Abbey : which by this 

 simple route strikes much more powerfully on the 

 feelings, than when gradually approached by the 

 more formal walks through the pleasure-grounds of 

 Studley. From the moment of beholding these mag- 

 nificent ruins, the spectator must be rapt in delight ; 

 now tracing the remains of the Abbey, its nave, its 

 transept, its cloisters, now turning to enjoy the 

 sweetly solemn effect of the general scene. The 

 Ash and Birch enliven by their foliage the dark 

 masses of shade thrown out by groups of Fir, Larch, 

 and Oak : the cliffs that rise around appear like na- 

 tural walls, affording a delightful variety of tint, and 

 shaded by ancient trees, whilst the tender saplings 

 spring from between the crevices. Part of the clois- 

 ters stretches over the Skell, which murmurs respon- 

 sive to the scene ; the arches cast a deep and dark 

 reflection on the water ; whilst about the ruins wave 

 lofty trees, tipped with light foliage, which is also 

 seen peeping in at the narrow pointed windows, as 

 they reflect the light from each other. Opposite to 

 this secluded spot is a small recess in the rocks, by 

 speaking from which a clear echo is returned in a few 



