Главная страница карта сайта печать

Видео интервью

Дру­гие ин­тервью


Отк­ры­та ус­лу­га mock in­tervi­ew! Го­товы ли Вы к ин­тервью с при­ем­ной ко­мис­си­ей?

далее »

Примеры эссе

HR Management
Мне всег­да нра­вилось ра­ботать с людь­ми, по­это­му еще в шко­ле я оп­ре­дели­ла для се­бя эту сте­зю. Это, дей­стви­тель­но, очень ин­те­рес­но по­нять внут­ренние цен­ности че­лове­ка, его стрем­ле­ния, це­ли. По­нима­ние лю­дей есть ключ к дос­ти­жению эф­фектив­ности их ра­боты. Далее…

The Whistle by Benjamin Franklin

В сво­ем со­чине­нии Аме­риканс­кий Го­сударс­твен­ный де­ятель и уче­ный расс­ка­зыва­ет о том, как не­обыч­ная по­куп­ка в да­леком детс­тве да­ла ему бес­ценный урок

To Ma­dame Bril­lon

I RE­CE­IVED my de­ar fri­end’s two let­ters, one for Wed­nesday and one for Sa­tur­day. This is aga­in Wed­nesday. I do not de­ser­ve one for to-day, be­ca­use I ha­ve not ans­we­red the for­mer. But, in­do­lent as I am, and aver­se to wri­ting, the fe­ar of ha­ving no mo­re of your ple­asing epist­les, if I do not cont­ri­bute to the cor­respon­dence, ob­li­ges me to ta­ke up my pen; and as Mr. B. has kind­ly sent me word that he sets out to-mor­row to see you, ins­te­ad of spen­ding this Wed­nesday eve­ning, as I ha­ve do­ne its na­mesa­kes, in your de­ligh­tful com­pa­ny, I sit down to spend it in thin­king of you, in wri­ting to you, and in re­ading over and over aga­in your let­ters.

I am char­med with your desc­rip­ti­on of Pa­radi­se, and with your plan of li­ving the­re; and I app­ro­ve much of your conc­lu­si­on, that, in the me­an­ti­me, we sho­uld draw all the go­od we can from this world. In my opi­ni­on we might all draw mo­re go­od from it than we do, and suf­fer less evil, if we wo­uld ta­ke ca­re not to gi­ve too much for whist­les. For to me it se­ems that most of the un­happy pe­op­le we me­et with are be­come so by neg­lect of that ca­ution.

You ask what I me­an? You lo­ve sto­ri­es, and will ex­cu­se my tel­ling one of my­self.

When I was a child of se­ven years old, my fri­ends, on a ho­liday, fil­led my poc­ket with cop­pers. I went di­rect­ly to a shop whe­re they sold to­ys for child­ren; and be­ing char­med with the so­und of a whist­le, that I met by the way in the hands of anot­her boy, I vo­lun­ta­rily of­fe­red and ga­ve all my mo­ney for one. I then ca­me ho­me, and went whist­ling all over the ho­use, much ple­ased with my whist­le, but dis­turbing all the fa­mily. My brot­hers, and sis­ters, and co­usins, un­ders­tan­ding the bar­ga­in I had ma­de, told me I had gi­ven fo­ur ti­mes as much for it as it was worth; put me in mind what go­od things I might ha­ve bo­ught with the rest of the mo­ney; and la­ug­hed at me so much for my fol­ly, that I cri­ed with ve­xati­on; and the ref­lecti­on ga­ve me mo­re chag­rin than the whist­le ga­ve me ple­asu­re.

This, ho­wever, was af­terwards of use to me, the imp­res­si­on con­ti­nu­ing on my mind; so that of­ten, when I was temp­ted to buy so­me un­ne­ces­sa­ry thing, I sa­id to my­self, Don’t gi­ve too much for the whist­le; and I sa­ved my mo­ney.

As I grew up, ca­me in­to the world, and ob­served the ac­ti­ons of men, I tho­ught I met with ma­ny, ve­ry ma­ny, who ga­ve too much for the whist­le.

When I saw one too am­bi­ti­ous of co­urt fa­vor, sac­ri­ficing his ti­me in at­tendan­ce on le­ve­es, his re­pose, his li­ber­ty, his vir­tue, and per­haps his fri­ends, to at­ta­in it, I ha­ve sa­id to my­self, This man gi­ves too much for his whist­le.

When I saw anot­her fond of po­pula­rity, cons­tan­tly emp­lo­ying him­self in po­liti­cal bust­les, neg­lecting his own af­fa­irs, and ru­ining them by that neg­lect, He pa­ys, in­de­ed, sa­id I, too much for his whist­le.

If I knew a mi­ser, who ga­ve up eve­ry kind of com­fortab­le li­ving, all the ple­asu­re of do­ing go­od to ot­hers, all the es­te­em of his fel­low-ci­tizens, and the jo­ys of be­nevo­lent fri­end­ship, for the sa­ke of ac­cu­mula­ting we­alth, Po­or man, sa­id I, you pay too much for your whist­le.

When I met with a man of ple­asu­re, sac­ri­ficing eve­ry la­udab­le imp­ro­vement of the mind, or of his for­tu­ne, to me­re cor­po­re­al sen­sa­ti­ons, and ru­ining his he­alth in the­ir pur­su­it, Mis­ta­ken man, sa­id I, you are pro­viding pa­in for your­self, ins­te­ad of ple­asu­re; you gi­ve too much for your whist­le.

If I see one fond of ap­pe­aran­ce, or fi­ne clot­hes, fi­ne ho­uses, fi­ne fur­ni­ture, fi­ne equi­pages, all abo­ve his for­tu­ne, for which he cont­racts debts, and ends his ca­re­er in a pri­son, Alas! say I, he has pa­id de­ar, ve­ry de­ar, for his whist­le.

When I see a be­auti­ful swe­et-tem­pe­red girl mar­ri­ed to an ill-na­tured bru­te of a hus­band, What a pi­ty, say I, that she sho­uld pay so much for a whist­le!

In short, I con­ce­ive that gre­at part of the mi­seri­es of man­kind are bro­ught upon them by the fal­se es­ti­mates they ha­ve ma­de of the va­lue of things, and by the­ir gi­ving too much for the­ir whist­les.

Yet I ought to ha­ve cha­rity for the­se un­happy pe­op­le, when I con­si­der that, with all this wis­dom of which I am bo­as­ting, the­re are cer­ta­in things in the world so temp­ting, for examp­le, the app­les of King John, which hap­pi­ly are not to be bo­ught; for if they we­re put to sa­le by auc­ti­on, I might ve­ry easi­ly be led to ru­in my­self in the purc­ha­se, and find that I had on­ce mo­re gi­ven too much for the whist­le.

Adi­eu, my de­ar fri­end, and be­li­eve me ever yours ve­ry sin­ce­rely and with unal­te­rab­le af­fecti­on.