(I thank you, par parenthèse, for “the vox humana of Hamlet!”) And apropos of p. 11, I think you might have mentioned François Victor Hugo’s translation of Shakespeare’s Sonnets. It is a curious piece of French criticism. But the main thing left upon my mind by this first cursory perusal is that you are one of those who live (as Goethe has for ever put it) in “the whole.” It is the great thing for modern criticism to get itself up out of holes and corners, mere personal proclivities and scholarly niceties, into the large air of nature and of man.
The critic who does this, has to sacrifice the applause of coteries and the satisfaction which comes from “discovering” something and making for his discovery a following.
But I am sure this is the right line for criticism, and the one which will ultimately prevail, to the exclusion of more partial ways.
I therefore, who, in my own humble way, have tried as critic to preserve what Goethe also calls the “abiding relations,” bleibende Verhältnisse, feel specially drawn to your work by the seal of largeness set upon it.
You test Shakespeare in his personal poems as man, from the standpoint of the whole; and this seems to me eminently scientific—right. In a minor point, I can tell you, as no one else could, that your critical instinct is no less acute than generally right. You have quoted one of my sonnets in the notes. This Sonnet was written, to myself consciously, under the Shakespearean influence. The influence was complex, but very potent; and your discernment, your “spotting” of it, appears to me that you have the right scent—fiuto (as Italians) flair (as Frenchmen call that subtle penetration into the recesses of a mind regulated by style).
Thank you from my heart for this gift, which (I hope, if years enough are given me) shall wear itself out in the daily service of your friend,
John Addington Symonds.
In the following letter to Mr. Symonds the Editor explained the intention of his collected Sonnets of this Century: