“I like it the better for that; it says the more to me.”
“What does it say?” replied he, smiling.
“The fading of its leaves speaks of sympathy with us, which I never can fancy evergreens feel. And then they become more beautiful as they decay, glowing with richer colors lent by the frost which is about to strip them; just as those who have silently spent their strength in aspiring heavenward like that plant, often show, when touched by suffering, new and unexpected graces.”
“You are fanciful—but I like to hear your imaginations.”
“The Virginian creeper has another meaning to me,” pursued Hilary; “it is an emblem of friendship, of which I am very fond.”
“I thought ivy was the emblem of friendship,” observed he.
“Not my emblem—at least, not of the friendship I mean. Did you ever notice the plants? ivy is a parasite, living on the substance which supports it; drawing its own existence from the life of another; and it is very persevering too, where any thing can be gained: it is difficult to check; tear it down, and it will send out new roots and fix itself afresh, until the prop is destroyed by the encroachment of the counterfeit friend; then it is so cold and apathetic, always green and unchanging in appearance, one can not love an ivy plant, or make a companion of it, however picturesque it may be.”
“And your favorite, what character does it bear?”
“Examine it—do you see these little spreading hands with which it supports itself?—see how closely they adhere; if you tear it down, it can never be replaced, however; they will hold, while they have life, but forcibly detached, they can not fix themselves again. They ask nothing in return, but permission to be undisturbed; and once allowed to attach themselves, they soon cover their sustaining prop with their luxuriant foliage. But the prop must be real of its kind, stone, or brick, or wood; but not stucco for stone, nor whitewashed plaster; there they retain no hold; nor polished glass you see; to that they can not fix themselves, it is too hard. Is not that constant, true, devoted friendship?”
“And you think then friendship repulsed, or violently severed, can never be replaced?”