INTRODUCTION. 



One of the few books which I can return to and 

 re-read every six or seven years is this book of Gil- 

 bert White's. It has a perennial charm. It is much 

 like countrv things themselves. One does not read 

 it with excitement or eager avidity ; it is in a low 

 key ; it touches only upon minor matters ; it is not 

 eloquent, or witty, or profound ; it has onlv now and 

 then a twinkle of humour or a glint of fancv, and yet 

 it has lived an hundred years and promises to live 

 many hundreds of years more. So manv learned 

 and elaborate treatises have sunk beneath the waves 

 upon which this cockle-shell of a book rides so 

 safely and buoyantlv I What is the secret of its 

 longevity ? One can do little more than name its 

 qualities without tracing them to their sources. It 

 is simple and wholesome, like bread, or meat, or 

 milk. Perhaps it is just this same unstrained qual- 

 ity that keeps the book alive. Books that are pi- 

 quant and exciting like condiments, or cloving like 

 confectionery or pastry, it seems, have a much less 



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