Benedetto Croce,
The Dial
(1923)
“ It is, in very truth, a tax on one's self-control to speak kindly of Scott after a conscientious reading of all his works: he wrote too many books, and the labour he imposes upon the reader of to-day—a reader quite blasé to the graces of the old art and familiar with all its tricks that once seemed so clever—fills us with a spite which betrays itself the moment we begin to talk of him. Had he stopped at Ivanhoe, Rob Roy, and one or two others at the most, the modern critic might be inclined to some indulgence. ”
