LITERARY TREATMENT OF NATURE 



toad that stumbles and fumbles along the roadside, 

 our sympathies would be touched, and some spark of 

 real knowledge imparted. We should not want the 

 lives of those humble creatures &quot; interpreted &quot; after 

 the manner of our sentimental &quot; School of Nature 

 Study,&quot; for that were to lose fact in fable; that 

 were to give us a stone when we had asked for 

 bread; we should want only a truthful record from 

 the point of view of a wise, loving, human eye, such 

 a record as, say, Gilbert White or Henry Thoreau 

 might have given us. How interesting White makes 

 his old turtle, hurrying to shelter when it rains, 

 or seeking the shade of a cabbage leaf when the 

 sun is too hot, or prancing about the garden on * 

 tiptoe in the spring by five in the morning, when 

 the mating instinct begins to stir within him ! Surely 

 we may see ourselves in the old tortoise. 



In fact, the problem of the essay-naturalist always 

 is to make his subject interesting, and yet keep 

 strictly within the bounds of truth. 



It is always an artist s privilege to heighten or 

 deepen natural effects. He may paint us a more 

 beautiful woman, or a more beautiful horse, or a 

 more beautiful landscape, than we ever saw ; we are 

 not deceived even though he outdo nature. We 

 know where we stand and where he stands; we 

 know that this is the power of art. If he is writing 

 an animal romance like Kipling s story of the 

 &quot; White Seal, &quot; or like his &quot; Jungle Book,&quot; there will 

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