 in field sports, which had been the chief pleasure of his own youthful
days. But although Edward eagerly carried the gun for one season, yet when
practice had given him some dexterity, the pastime ceased to afford him
amusement.
    In the succeeding spring, the perusal of old Isaac Walton's fascinating
volume determined Edward to become »a brother of the angle.« But of all
diversions which ingenuity ever devised for the relief of idleness, fishing is
the worst qualified to amuse a man who is at once indolent and impatient; and
our hero's rod was speedily flung aside. Society and example, which, more than
any other motives, master and sway the natural bent of our passions, might have
had their usual effect upon the youthful visionary; but the neighbourhood was
thinly inhabited, and the home-bred young squires whom it afforded, were not of
a class fit to form Edward's usual companions, far less to excite him to
emulation in the practice of those pastimes which composed the serious business
of their lives.
    There were a few other youths of better education, and a more liberal
character; but from their society also our hero was in some degree excluded. Sir
Everard had, upon the death of Queen Anne, resigned his seat in Parliament, and,
as his age increased and the number of his contemporaries diminished, had
gradually withdrawn himself from society; so that when, upon any particular
occasion, Edward mingled with accomplished and well-educated young men of his
own rank and expectations, he felt an inferiority in their company, not so much
from deficiency of information, as from the want of skill to command and to
arrange that which he possessed. A deep and increasing sensibility added to this
dislike of society. The idea of having committed the slightest solecism in
politness, whether real or imaginary, was agony to him; for perhaps even guilt
itself does not impose upon some minds so keen a sense of shame and remorse, as
a modest, sensitive, and inexperienced youth feels from the consciousness of
having neglected etiquette, or excited ridicule. Where we are not at ease, we
cannot be happy; and therefore it is not surprising, that Edward Waverley
supposed that he disliked and was unfitted for society merely because he had not
yet acquired the habit of living in it with ease and comfort, and of
reciprocally giving and receiving pleasure.
    The hours he spent with his uncle and aunt were exhausted in listening to
the oft-repeated tale of narrative old age. Yet even there his imagination, the
predominant faculty of his mind, was frequently excited. Family tradition
