t attention,
hitherto exacted from the well-governed childhood of this realm. It may,
in the meantime, be subject of serious consideration, whether those who
are accustomed only to acquire instruction through the medium of
amusement may not be brought to reject that which approaches under the
aspect of study; whether those who learn history by the cards may not be
led to prefer the means to the end; and whether, were we to teach
religion in the way of sport, our pupils may not thereby be gradually
induced to make sport of their religion. To our young hero, who was
permitted to seek his instruction only according to the bent of his own
mind, and who, of consequence, only sought it so long as it afforded him
amusement, the indulgence of his tutors was attended with evil
consequences, which long continued to influence his character, happiness,
and utility.

Edward's power of imagination and love of literature, although the former
was vivid and the latter ardent, were so far from affording a remedy to
this peculiar evil, that they rather inflamed and increased its violence.
The library at Waverley-Honour, a large Gothic room, with double arches
and a gallery, contained such a miscellaneous and extensive collection of
volumes as had been assembled together, during the course of two hundred
years, by a family which had been always wealthy, and inclined, of
course, as a mark of splendour, to furnish their shelves with the current
literature of the day, without much scrutiny or nicety of discrimination.
Throughout this ample realm Edward was permitted to roam at large. His
tutor had his own studies; and church politics and controversial
divinity, together with a love of learned ease, though they did not
withdraw his attention at stated times from the progress of his patron's
presumptive heir, induced him readily to grasp at any apology for not
extending a strict and regulated survey towards his general studies. Sir
Everard had never been himself a student, and, like his sister, Miss
Rachel Waverley, he held the common doctrine, that idleness is
incompatible with reading of any kind, and that the mere tracing the
alphabetical characters with the eye is in itself a useful and
meritorious task, without scrupulously considering what ideas or
doctrines they may happen to convey. With a desire of amusement,
therefore, which better discipline might soon have converted into a
thirst for knowledge, young Waverley drove through the sea o