Bradley's pedagogical manner and his self-confidence made him a real guide for many students to the meaning of Shakespeare. They are mysterious, and yet extremely coherent; one is always sure their actions are of a piece with their nature—and yet their natures are so subtle and complex that they evade understanding.
He was the youngest of the twenty-one children born to the preacher Charles Bradley — who was vicar of Glasbury and a noted evangelical preacher and leader of the so-called Clapham Sect  and his second wife Emma Linton. However the intellectual winds may blow in the halls of academe, ordinary lovers of Shakespeare will always cherish Bradley, for he performs the office of the critic: to enhance our enjoyment of a work while being true to its spirit.
To fall off a building, to catch a deadly disease, to be conscripted into the army—all of these, while remarkably sad, are not tragic in the strict sense because they might happen to anyone.
He then took a permanent position at the University of Liverpool where he lectured on literature. Leavis as a mockery of "current irrelevancies in Shakespeare criticism. It does not result from circumstance, accident, or any overwhelming external force.
Harold Bloom has paid tribute to Bradley's place in the great tradition of critical writing on Shakespeare: 'This [Bloom's] book — Shakespeare: the Invention of the Human — is a latecomer work, written in the wake of the Shakespeare critics I most admire: Johnson, Hazlitt, Bradley.