FEELING FOR NATURE

to manufacture the finished product, is to incarnate oneself, and that is to create. It may be a wheel, or a gem, or a crop, or a pièce of f abric, or a sandal (as with Carpenter himself) : and the man who tears a reed from the riverside and makes a pipe, and produces therewith maybe not even a melody, but only a bird-note or a love-call, perf orms a godlike act. Better make pipes with Pan than play a pianola. You wiU not get a living out of it, but much more than that. Happy the man who, even if it is only in the interstices of making a living, finds life. Happier he who is bold and venturesome enough to widea the interstices, until the Living and the Life exchange proportions, and change places.

There is something unique about Carpenter's feeling for Nature. It is extraordinarily Isimple, direct, naive. There are no purple patches to be quoted. This is one of his many distinctions. Let us open Towards Democracy at the first page, and take the passage that inunediately présents itself for exanûnation :

The Sun shines, as of old ; the stars look down from heaven; the moon, cresoent, sails in the twilight; on bushy tops m the warm nights, naked, with mad dance and song, the earth-children address themselves to love ;

Civilisation sinks and swims, but the old facts remain — the Sun smiles, knowing weU its strength.

The little red stars appear once more on the hazel boughs, shining among the catkins ; over waste lands the pewit tumbles and cries as at the first day ; men with horses go out on the land — they shout and chide