ds to be the
invariable shape of all the oldest ivy, in all the ruins of Europe which
I explored.

This ivy, like the spider, takes hold with her hands in kings' palaces,
as every twig is furnished with innumerable little clinging fingers, by
which it draws itself close, as it were, to the very heart of the old
rough stone.

Its clinging and beautiful tenacity has given rise to an abundance of
conceits about fidelity, friendship, and woman's love, which have become
commonplace simply from their appropriateness. It might, also, symbolize
that higher love, unconquerable and unconquered, which has embraced this
ruined world from age to age, silently spreading its green over the
rents and fissures of our fallen nature, giving "beauty for ashes, and
garments of praise for the spirit of heaviness."

There is a modern mansion, where the present proprietor of the estate
lives. It was with an emotion partaking of the sorrowful, that we heard
that the Douglas line, as such, was extinct, and that the estate had
passed to distant connections. I was told that the present Lord Douglas
is a peaceful clergyman, quite a different character from old Archibald
the Grim.

The present residence is a plain mansion, standing on a beautiful lawn,
near the old castle. The head gardener of the estate and many of the
servants came out to meet us, with faces full of interest. The gardener
walked about to show us the localities, and had a great deal of the
quiet intelligence and self-respect which, I think, is characteristic of
the laboring classes here. I noticed that on the green sweep of the
lawn, he had set out here and there a good many daisies, as
embellishments to the grass, and these in many places were defended by
sticks bent over them, and that, in one place, a bank overhanging the
stream was radiant with yellow daffodils, which appeared to have come up
and blossomed there accidentally. I know not whether these were planted
there, or came up of themselves.

We next went to the famous Bothwell bridge, which Scott has immortalized
in Old Mortality. We walked up and down, trying to recall the scenes of
the battle, as there described, and were rather mortified, after we had
all our associations comfortably located upon it, to be told that it was
not the same bridge--it had been newly built, widened, and otherwise
made more comfortable and convenient.

Of course, this was evidently for the benefit of society, but it was
certainly one o