CHAPTER III
EDUCATION
The education of our hero, Edward Waverley, was of a nature somewhatdesultory. In infancy, his health suffered, or was supposed to suffer(which is quite the same thing), by the air of London. As soon,therefore, as official duties, attendance on Parliament, or theprosecution of any of his plans of interest or ambition, called hisfather to town, which was his usual residence for eight months in theyear, Edward was transferred to Waverley-Honour, and experienced a totalchange of instructors and of lessons, as well as of residence.This might have been remedied, had his father placed him under thesuperintendence of a permanent tutor. But he considered that one of hischoosing would probably have been unacceptable at Waverley-Honour, andthat such a selection as Sir Everard might have made, were the matterleft to him, would have burdened him with a disagreeable inmate, if nota political spy, in his family. He therefore prevailed upon his privatesecretary, a young man of taste and accomplishments, to bestow an houror two on Edward's education while at Brere-wood Lodge, and left hisuncle answerable for his improvement in literature while an inmate atthe Hall.
This was in some degree respectably provided for. Sir Everard'schaplain, an Oxonian, who had lost his fellowship for declining totake the oaths at the accession of George I, was not only an excellentclassical scholar, but reasonably skilled in science, and master of mostmodern languages. He was, however, old and indulgent, and the recurringinterregnum, during which Edward was entirely freed from his discipline,occasioned such a relaxation of authority, that the youth was permitted,in a great measure, to learn as he pleased, what he pleased, and when hepleased. This slackness of rule might have been ruinous to a boy ofslow understanding, who, feeling labour in the acquisition ofknowledge, would have altogether neglected it, save for the command of atask-master; and it might have proved equally dangerous to a youth whoseanimal spirits were more powerful than his imagination or his feelings,and whom the irresistible influence of Alma would have engaged in fieldsports from morning till night. But the character of Edward Waverleywas remote from either of these. His powers of apprehension were souncommonly quick, as almost to resemble intuition, and the chief care ofhis preceptor was to prevent him, as a sportsman would phrase it, fromoverrunning his game, that is, from acquiring his knowledge in a slight,flimsy, and inadequate manner. And here the instructor had to combatanother propensity too often united with brilliancy of fancy andvivacity of talent,--that indolence, namely, of disposition, whichcan only be stirred by some strong motive of gratification, and whichrenounces study as soon as curiosity is gratified, the pleasure ofconquering the first difficulties exhausted, and the novelty of pursuitat an end. Edward would throw himself with spirit upon any classicalauthor of which his preceptor proposed the perusal, make himself masterof the style so far as to understand the story, and if that pleased orinterested him, he finished the volume. But it was in vain to attemptfixing his attention on critical distinctions of philology, uponthe difference of idiom, the beauty of felicitous expression, or theartificial combinations of syntax. 'I can read and understand a Latinauthor,' said young Edward, with the self-confidence and rash reasoningof fifteen, 'and Scaliger or Bentley could not do much more.' Alas!while he was thus permitted to read only for the gratification of hisamusement, he foresaw not that he was losing for ever the opportunity ofacquiring habits of firm and assiduous application, of gaining the artof controlling, directing, and concentrating the powers of his mindfor earnest investigation,--an art far more essential than even thatintimate acquaintance with classical learning, which is the primaryobject of study.
I am aware I may be here reminded of the necessity of renderinginstruction agreeable to youth, and of Tasso's infusion of honey intothe medicine prepared for a child; but an age in which children aretaught the driest doctrines by the insinuating method of instructivegames, has little reason to dread the consequences of study beingrendered too serious or severe. The history of England is now reducedto a game at cards,--the problems of mathematics to puzzles andriddles,--and the doctrines of arithmetic may, we are assured, besufficiently acquired, by spending a few hours a week at a new andcomplicated edition of the Royal Game of the Goose. There wants but onestep further, and the Creed and Ten Commandments may be taught in thesame manner, without the necessity of the grave face, deliberate tone ofrecital, and devout attention, hitherto exacted from the well governedchildhood of this realm. It may, in the meantime, be subject ofserious consideration, whether those who are accustomed only to acquireinstruction through the medium of amusement, may not be brought toreject that which approaches under the aspect of study; whether thosewho learn history by the cards, may not be led to prefer the means tothe 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 theirreligion. To our young hero, who was permitted to seek his instructiononly according to the bent of his own mind, and who, of consequence,only sought it so long as it afforded him amusement, the indulgence ofhis tutors was attended with evil consequences, which long continuedto influence his character, happiness, and utility. Edward's power ofimagination and love of literature, although the former was vivid, andthe latter ardent, were so far from affording a remedy to this peculiarevil, that they rather inflamed and increased its violence. The libraryat Waverley-Honour, a large Gothic room, with double arches and agallery, contained such a miscellaneous and extensive collection ofvolumes as had been assembled together, during the course of two hundredyears, by a family which had been always wealthy, and inclined, ofcourse, as a mark of splendour, to furnish their shelves with thecurrent literature of the day, without much scrutiny, or nicety ofdiscrimination. Throughout this ample realm Edward was permitted toroam at large. His tutor had his own studies; and church politics andcontroversial divinity, together with a love of learned ease, thoughthey did not withdraw his attention at stated times from the progressof his patron's presumptive heir, induced him readily to grasp at anyapology for not extending a strict and regulated survey towards hisgeneral studies. Sir Everard had never been himself a student, and,like his sister Miss Rachel Waverley, he held the common doctrine, thatidleness is incompatible with reading of any kind, and that the meretracing the alphabetical characters with the eye is in itself a usefuland meritorious task, without scrupulously considering what ideasor doctrines they may happen to convey. With a desire of amusement,therefore, which better discipline might soon have converted into athirst for knowledge, young Waverley drove through the sea of books,like a vessel without a pilot or a rudder. Nothing perhaps increases byindulgence more than a desultory habit of reading, especially under suchopportunities of gratifying it. I believe one reason why such numerousinstances of erudition occur among the lower ranks is, that, with thesame powers of mind, the poor student is limited to a narrow circlefor indulging his passion for books, and must necessarily make himselfmaster of the few he possesses ere he can acquire more. Edward, on thecontrary, like the epicure who only deigned to take a single morsel fromthe sunny side of a peach, read no volume a moment after it ceased toexcite his curiosity or interest; and it necessarily happened, that thehabit of seeking only this sort of gratification rendered it daily moredifficult of attainment, till the passion for reading, like other strongappetites, produced by indulgence a sort of satiety.
Ere he attained this indifference, however, he had read, and stored ina memory of uncommon tenacity, much curious, though ill-arranged andmiscellaneous information. In English literature he was master ofShakespeare and Milton, of our earlier dramatic authors; of manypicturesque and interesting passages from our old historical chronicles;and was particularly well acquainted with Spenser, Drayton, and otherpoets who have exercised themselves on romantic fiction, of all themesthe most fascinating to a youthful imagination, before the passions haveroused themselves, and demand poetry of a more sentimental description.In this respect his acquaintance with Italian opened him yet a widerrange. He had perused the numerous romantic poems, which, from the daysof
Pulci, have been a favourite exercise of the wits of Italy; and hadsought gratification in the numerous collections of NOVELLE, which werebrought forth by the genius of that elegant though luxurious nation, inemulation of the DECAMERON. In classical literature, Waverley had madethe usual progress, and read the usual authors; and the French hadafforded him an almost exhaustless collection of memoirs, scarcely morefaithful than romances, and of romances so well written as hardly to bedistinguished from memoirs. The splendid pages of Froissart, with hisheart-stirring and eye-dazzling descriptions of war and of tournaments,were among his chief favourites; and from those of Brantome and dela Noue he learned to compare the wild and loose yet superstitiouscharacter of the nobles of the League, with the stern, rigid, andsometimes turbulent disposition of the Huguenot party. The Spanish hadcontributed to his stock of chivalrous and romantic lore. The earlierliterature of the northern nations did not escape the study of one whoread rather to awaken the imagination than to benefit the understanding.And yet, knowing much that is known but to few, Edward Waverley mightjustly be considered as ignorant, since he knew little of what addsdignify to man, and qualifies him to support and adorn an elevatedsituation in society.
The occasional attention of his parents might indeed have been ofservice, to prevent the dissipation of mind incidental to such adesultory course of reading. But his mother died in the seventh yearafter the reconciliation between the brothers, and Richard Waverleyhimself, who, after this event, resided more constantly in London, wastoo much interested in his own plans of wealth and ambition, to noticemore respecting Edward, than that he was of a very bookish turn, andprobably destined to be a bishop. If he could have discovered andanalysed his son's waking dreams, he would have formed a very differentconclusion.