Letter from Katherine Bradley, Alum Bay House, Isle of Wight, to John Addington Symonds, 1884 : autograph manuscript signed.

Thanking him for his praise of the book; saying "I do not wonder that you love the Faun : from the moment that his Song 'I dance, I dance' was read to me [he is all Edith's] I felt that my girl companion had won a niche in Eng. literature. I must perhaps plead guilty to being too indulgent to the youthful crudities of her work. Sometimes we say the Spirit pushes us aside & writes; when on her M.S. there are traces of that handwriting I grow timid of correction. Now a word about 'the hags.' They are, I admit, ungreek, not inhuman? I believe Michael Field's thought was that while the sister priestesses were loathsome old women Prom. by her love - a love that would have been well-approved, if it had been born in a body of nineteen, a love moreover that was pure, womanly, regretful - was lifted into the higher realms of tragedy. If it is Michael Field's mission to preach the gospel of ecstasy to an older & chiller-minded world, 'it must be his part to show how love royalises' the wretchedest creature. The unnaturalness lies not in an old heart's loving : but in a young heart's having fasted from love. Of all my critics Mary Robinson - & she got frightened in the printed review - alone has discerned the pathos of Prom. Perhaps she is a creation women only can understand. Yet no : Browning who has been to us like his own god Pan - 'grave-kindly, amused at a mortal's awe' writes : 'Do not be frowned out of that scene. It is all your own & consonant with a deeper naturalness than friend (naming a reviewer who had stumbled at Prom.);" thanking him for the copy "Shakespeare's Predecessors" and praising it; adding "Please write more quickly - of those who came after Shakespeare. One thing we have against you - that you do not give Marlowe all his desert. Surely Edward II is an incomparably finer play than Richard II. Awe of the great Name has, it seems to us, kept you from adequately recognizing this. Even my sister, who is rather fond of sermons, is being gradually educated by Michael, & your extracts from Marlowe & 'A Woman Killed with Kindness' have greatly advanced the work to the same conclusion - 'The Play's the thing!' - Finally with a sigh I must admit the justness of your remark that Callirrhoë is not all she was intended to be. The fervour of a reticent nature has been given to us in Cordelia : it vindicates the very air about Virgilia; we have not attained to it. People think she scorned Coresus. Dear, dear! We must have mis-managed our drama. Do tell me with 'unflinching frankness' what you think of Fair Rosamund. Please correct and work in anything you discern false in it just as sternly as you would a Latin exercise. You can teach us with authority, & reverencing your blame, we can profit by it. I say laughing that Fair Rosamund has 'mistreated ' Michael Field from his relations. I once wrote, & experience has proved the truth of the bitter saying 'The tendency of relations is to pollardise the spirit. Nevertheless, happy in the supreme sympathy & fearless intelligence of Mother & Sister we go on our perilous dramatic way, willing to be shamefully [illegible[ so only our message be received into the hearts of men;" asking if he would help her with Saints Justina and Cyprian; saying "Cyprian's character is only slowly forming - I want to show all the influence of solitude on a dreamy fervid character - with idle lordship over the powers of nature, & capacity for great ideals & devotion to them. Justina receives from Cyprian a love-potion which gives her evil thoughts, but, repressing these, she resolves to exult him to the highest spiritual passion. I knew all about her. For Cyprian I must have some external help. Can you tell me about Antioch & the dominant influences there in the 3rd century? It is little the dramatist needs historically - one or two unerring suggestions. Edith were she with me would join me in warmly thanking you for your stimulating sympathy & interest. In a week or two she will I hope, join me here, & then we return to the New Forest, believing that hidden away under that Rufus Stone are the roots of a chronicle-play. You laugh : & indeed our destiny has its ludicrous side : there are so few who naturally care for our state, that we trust you will pardon our troubling you with our dramatic cares."