“I have shown your work to several friends--all creative artists, not critics only. Their opinions support my own. Probably in your present situation you have no one to whom you can go for counsel, so I have taken upon myself the duties of adviser. You must read. I don’t care about the quantity, but your reading must be regular and sound. The modern men are excellent when you have found your own feet, but before you are twenty you are prone to imitation of their extremes--probably the worst of them. So go back to men whom you will not be tempted to imitate. Read the_ Actes and Monuments, _Swift, Addison, Walton, Goldsmith. Burton’s_ Anatomy of Melancholy _has been an inexhaustible quarry for later essayists. If you must have the living, try Mrs. Meynell for her prose. Go to De Quincey for speed and amazement, Poe for short stories, Fielding for action--Fielding, in fact, for most things. In poetry, take Shakespeare--enough, believe me, for your present needs._ “_As for a method of writing--whatever I tell you, a thousand others will tell you I am wrong. Fast or slow? Rough-hewn or polished? That you must find out for yourself. I believe_ le mot juste _is well worth long seeking in chilly, critical moments. But if you feel excited about what you are writing it’s best to use a slack rein. Never be afraid of the whip--it’s very good to write a ‘portion’ every day, if you have the courage to destroy it when necessary in the evening. The wastepaper-basket is a good, silent friend whom it is folly to despise. “Write to me whenever you care to, and send me the little that the wastepaper-basket does not swallow up. I have been seeing much of your mother lately, talking of old times and of you._ “_Yours_, “WINGFIELD ALTER. “_P.S.--If you can find a place to do it in, read your work aloud to yourself--especially verse. I should have told you to read the Bible and Thomas Hardy and Murray’s translations of the Greek. Robert Bridges will teach you much of metre. Try Clutton Brock for scholarly prose. Margaret is taking out a supply of my books for you. Talk to her when you can, but don’t believe all she tells you about literature--and don’t accept what I tell you as anything but a foundation upon which to build up your own tastes. I think you might read Conrad, too, if you will promise to stop when Marlow begins to dominate you completely.--W.A._” Hartington who thought that by this time he had a fairly accurate understanding of the working of John’s mind, was at first astonished by the extraordinary elation of which this letter was the only apparent cause. It was natural that John should be pleased by the approval and interest of a man of Alter’s standing, but his changed mood, the laughter, the quickened speech, the heightened colour, called for an explanation more personal. John spoke of Margaret as “Fane-Herbert’s sister” when he spoke of her at all.