The varlet who sang— had the soul of a philosopher in him.The harshness of the parlour is revenged at night in the servants’ hall.
A quick ear and eye, an ability to discern the infinite suggestiveness of common things, a brooding meditative spirit, are all that the essayist requires to start business with.
Jacques, in “As You Like It,” had the makings of a charming essayist.
You may spit upon Shylock’s gaberdine, but the day comes when he demands his pound of flesh; every blow, every insult, not without a certain satisfaction, he adds to the account running up against you in the day-book and ledger of his hate—which at the proper time he will ask you to discharge.
Every way we look we see even-handed nature administering her laws of compensation. The usurper rolls along like a god, surrounded by his guards.
The coarse rich man rates his domestic, but there is a thought in the domestic’s brain, docile and respectful as he looks, which makes the matter equal, which would madden the rich man if he knew it—make him wince as with a shrewdest twinge of hereditary gout.
Happiness Essay Writing - Was Alexander Really Great Essays
For insult and degradation are not without their peculiar solaces.Bruin in winter-time fondly sucking his own paws, loses flesh; and love, feeding upon itself, dies of inanition.Take the candle of death in your hand, and walk through the stately galleries of the world, and their splendid furniture and array are as the tinsel armour and pasteboard goblets of a penny theatre; fame is but an inscription on a grave, and glory the melancholy blazon on a coffin lid. One insists that she is found in the cottage which the hawthorn shades.And the robustious fellow who sits at the head of the table when the Jolly Swillers meet at the Blue Lion on Wednesday evenings is a great politician, sound of lung metal, and wields the village in the taproom, as my Lord Palmerston wields the nation in the House. White took note of the ongoings of the seasons in and around Hampshire Selborne, watched the colonies of the rooks in the tall elms, looked after the swallows in the cottage and rectory eaves, played the affectionate spy on the private lives of chaffinch and hedge-sparrow, was eaves-dropper to the solitary cuckoo; so here I keep eye and ear open; take note of man, woman, and child; find many a pregnant text imbedded in the commonplace of village life; and, out of what I see and hear, weave in my own room my essays as solitary as the spider weaves his web in the darkened corner.His listeners think him a wiser personage than the Premier, and he is inclined to lean to that opinion himself. The essay, as a literary form, resembles the lyric, in so far as it is moulded by some central mood—whimsical, serious, or satirical.The one of a Saturday night counts up his shabby gains and grumbles; the other on Saturday night sits down and weeps for other worlds to conquer. Suddlechops are as important as are the worlds to Alexander.Every condition of life has its peculiar advantages, and wisdom points these out and is contented with them.I find everything here that other men find in the big world. Give the mood, and the essay, from the first sentence to the last, grows around it as the cocoon grows around the silkworm.The essay-writer is a chartered libertine, and a law unto himself.I attend neither rout nor ball; I have no deeper dissipation than the tea-table; I hear no more exciting scandal than quiet village gossip.Yet I enjoy my concerts more than I would the great London ones.