A similar contrast was seen between the level green meadow, in which the ruins were situated, and the large timber-trees which were scattered over it, compared with the precipitous banks which arose at a short distance around, partly fringed with light and feathery underwood, partly rising in steeps clothed with purple heath, and partly more abruptly elevated into fronts of grey rock, chequered with lichen, and with those hardy plants which find root even in the most arid crevices of the crags.
"There was the retreat of learning in the days of darkness, Mr.Lovel!" said Oldbuck,--around whom the company had now grouped themselves while they admired the unexpected opening of a prospect so romantic;--"there reposed the sages who were aweary of the world, and devoted either to that which was to come, or to the service of the generations who should follow them in this.

I will show you presently the library;--see that stretch of wall with square-shafted windows--there it existed, stored, as an old manuscript in my possession assures me, with five thousand volumes.

And here I might well take up the lamentation of the learned Leland, who, regretting the downfall of the conventual libraries, exclaims, like Rachel weeping for her children, that if the Papal laws, decrees, decretals, clementines, and other such drugs of the devil--yea, if Heytesburg's sophisms, Porphyry's universals, Aristotle's logic, and Dunse's divinity, with such other lousy legerdemains (begging your pardon, Miss Wardour) and fruits of the bottomless pit,--had leaped out of our libraries, for the accommodation of grocers, candlemakers, soapsellers, and other worldly occupiers, we might have been therewith contented.

But to put our ancient chronicles, our noble histories, our learned commentaries, and national muniments, to such offices of contempt and subjection, has greatly degraded our nation, and showed ourselves dishonoured in the eyes of posterity to the utmost stretch of time--O negligence most unfriendly to our land!" "And, O John Knox" said the Baronet, "through whose influence, and under whose auspices, the patriotic task was accomplished!" The Antiquary, somewhat in the situation of a woodcock caught in his own springe, turned short round and coughed, to excuse a slight blush as he mustered his answer--"as to the Apostle of the Scottish Reformation"-- But Miss Wardour broke in to interrupt a conversation so dangerous.
"Pray, who was the author you quoted, Mr.Oldbuck ?" "The learned Leland, Miss Wardour, who lost his senses on witnessing the destruction of the conventual libraries in England." "Now, I think," replied the young lady, "his misfortune may have saved the rationality of some modern antiquaries, which would certainly have been drowned if so vast a lake of learning had not been diminished by draining." "Well, thank Heaven, there is no danger now--they have hardly left us a spoonful in which to perform the dire feat." So saying, Mr.Oldbuck led the way down the bank, by a steep but secure path, which soon placed them on the verdant meadow where the ruins stood.

"There they lived," continued the Antiquary, "with nought to do but to spend their time in investigating points of remote antiquity, transcribing manuscripts, and composing new works for the information of posterity." "And," added the Baronet, "in exercising the rites of devotion with a pomp and ceremonial worthy of the office of the priesthood." "And if Sir Arthur's excellence will permit," said the German, with a low bow, "the monksh might also make de vary curious experiment in deir laboraties, both in chemistry and magia naturalis." "I think," said the clergyman, "they would have enough to do in collecting the teinds of the parsonage and vicarage of three good parishes." "And all," added Miss Wardour, nodding to the Antiquary, "without interruption from womankind." "True, my fair foe," said Oldbuck; "this was a paradise where no Eve was admitted, and we may wonder the rather by what chance the good fathers came to lose it." With such criticisms on the occupations of those by whom the ruins had been formerly possessed, they wandered for some time from one moss-grown shrine to another, under the guidance of Oldbuck, who explained, with much plausibility, the ground-plan of the edifice, and read and expounded to the company the various mouldering inscriptions which yet were to be traced upon the tombs of the dead, or under the vacant niches of the sainted images.
"What is the reason," at length Miss Wardour asked the Antiquary, "why tradition has preserved to us such meagre accounts of the inmates of these stately edifices, raised with such expense of labour and taste, and whose owners were in their times personages of such awful power and importance?
The meanest tower of a freebooting baron or squire who lived by his lance and broadsword, is consecrated by its appropriate legend, and the shepherd will tell you with accuracy the names and feats of its inhabitants;--but ask a countryman concerning these beautiful and extensive remains--these towers, these arches, and buttresses, and shafted windows, reared at such cost,--three words fill up his answer--they were made up by the monks lang syne.'" The question was somewhat puzzling.