chance of survival. The secret of longevity of a 

 man — what is it? Sanity, moderation, regularity, 

 and that plus vitality, which is a gift. The book 

 that lives has these things, and it has that same plus 

 vitality, the secret of which cannot be explored. 

 The sensational, intemperate books set the world 

 on fire for a day, and then end in ashes and forget- 

 fulness. 



White's book diffuses a sort of rural England at- 

 mosphere through the mind. It is not the work of a 

 city man who went down into the country to write 

 it up, but of a born countryman — one who had in 

 the very texture of his mind the flavour of rural 

 things. Then it is the growth of a particular local- 

 ity. Let a man stick his staff into the ground any- 

 where and say " This is home," and describe things 

 from that point of view, or as they stand related 

 to that spot — the weather, the fauna, the flora — 

 and his account shall have an interest to us it could 

 not have if not thus located and defined. This is 

 one secret of White's charm. His work has a home 

 air, a certain privacy and particularity. The great 

 world is afar off ; Selborne is as snug and secluded 

 as a chimney corner ; we get an authentic glimpse 

 into the real life of one man there ; we see him go- 

 ing about intent, lovingly intent, upon every phase 

 of nature about him. We get glimpses into humble 

 cottages and into the ways and doings of the people ; 

 we see the bacon drying in the chimneys; we see 



