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.... With a desire of amusement, therefore, which better
discipline might soon have converted into a thirst for knowledge, young
Waverley drove through the sea of books, like a vessel without a pilot
or a rudder. Nothing perhaps increases by indulgence more than a
desultory habit of reading, especially under such opportunities of
gratifying it. I believe one reason why such numerous instances of
erudition occur among the lower ranks is, that, with the same powers of
mind, the poor student is limited to a narrow circle for indulging his
passion for books, and must necessarily make himself master of the few
he possesses ere he can acquire more. Edward, on the contrary, like the
epicure who only deigned to take a single morsel from the sunny side of
a peach, read no volume a moment after it ceased to excite his curiosity
or interest; and it necessarily happened, that the habit of seeking only
this sort of gratification rendered it daily more difficult of
attainment, till the passion for reading, like other strong appetites,
produced by indulgence a sort of satiety.--SIR W. SCOTT. _Waverley._