New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1921-01-17

There are persons to whom preposi-
ton is as inspiring as a trumpet call.
bangle an con" before a dying essayist
and he will get up and dash you off
something entitled Con an Old Pen
wiper" or con the Delights of Wash
ing Before Breakfast" 1t is essential
that an essayist be an enthusiast about
more things than propositions. They
are merely his springboards. He ought
to be a man who wears his Corona on
his sleeves, for there is no moment of
the day or night in which he is safe
from the onrush of ideas. ! once knew
man who was a complete essaylst at
heart but a city editor by profession.
He came into the office one July after
noon and called me over. Gas was
walking downtown" he began, Il saw
little piece of ice in the middle Of
Broadway. Write me funny story
about it,
The assignment foored me COM
pletely. I dled over it for an hour
and then reported back that l couldn't
see story in the suggestion "What
suggestion? ?" said the city editor. The
thing had gone from his mind. He was
are made Having said OF anything
"Let it be done" he at once felt not
only that it was accomplished, but that
he had done it himself. The matter
never came to his mind again. At the
moment l spoke to him he was already
deeply engrossed in scheme for a
story computing the value of all the
lobster salad sold in the City Of New
York, exclusive of Brooklyn, the Bronx
and Staten Island, in single evening.
l have noticed that most essayists
are like that. Their enthusiasms are
intense, but not Of long duration. 1t is
just as we'll. After all, there probably
is no great field for expression in the
subject of penwipers. The essayist
does it once in a fine spirit of frenzy
and then goes on to something else.
If he were faithful to the one theme
there's no telling when he might ex
haust his market.
Sometimes I am inclined to distrust
the enthusiasm of the essayst. Being
man much moved to write, he comes to
be so sensitive that even a puff Of wind
will propel him into an essay. And
then sometimes on dead calm days he
will begin to write under the pretence
that breath from some far corner of
the world has touched him. Perhaps it
has. But then again it may be that
he, too, is among the takers.
at is time, l think" writes Alpha
Of the Plough in Windfalls, that some
one said a good word for the wasp
He is no saint, but he is being abused
beyond his desserts"
But why is it time? Fabre has said
some hundreds of thousands of good
words about wasps, but even if he
hadn't, whence comes the cry of
Justice for the wasp? The wasps
themselves haven't complained. Nor is
there much persuasion in what Alpha
sets down.
Nov the point about the wasp he
| WI!tCS, is CHdt lie uOcSlI Wdut 70 sung
you" OF still less moment to the
world than the wrongs of the wasp are
his motives and intentions. Any wasp
who stings me will be wasting his time
if he fingers around after the deed to
explain, 81 didn't want to do it,"
Still, the whole trick of the essayist
is to pick side-alley subjects. Select
ing at random from Windfalls, there
are "On Hanson Cab" 1.-TWO Glasses
Of Milk" "On Matches and Things"
Few Of them, it seems to me, are better
than pretty good. That is hardly good
enough. The essay is a stunt. Either
the writer can balance his theme on the
end Of his nose or he can't.
A Tale That Is Told, by Frederick
! Niven, offers more difficulties to tho