The work is rather too light, bright, and sparkling; it wants
shade; it wants to be stretched out here and there with a long
chapter of sense, if it could be had; if not of solemn specious
nonsense, about something unconnected with the story; an essay on
writing, a critique of Walter Scott, or a history of Buonaparte,
or anything that would form a contrast, and bring the reader with
increased delight to the playfulness and epigrammatism of the
general style.