Bartleby The Scrivener .......................................................................................................................................1

Herman Melville......................................................................................................................................1

Bartleby, the Scrivener .............................................................................................................................1

I AM a rather elderly man. The nature of my avocations for the last thirty years has brought me into more

than ordinary contact with what would seem an interesting and somewhat singular set of men, of whom as yet

nothing that I know of has ever been written:I mean the lawcopyists or scriveners. I have known very

many of them, professionally and privately, and if I pleased, could relate divers histories, at which

goodnatured gentlemen might smile, and sentimental souls might weep. But I waive the biographies of all

other scriveners for a few passages in the life of Bartleby, who was a scrivener the strangest I ever saw or

heard of. While of other lawcopyists I might write the complete life, of Bartleby nothing of that sort can be

done. I believe that no materials exist for a full and satisfactory biography of this man. It is an irreparable loss

to literature. Bartleby was one of those beings of whom nothing is ascertainable, except from the original

sources, and in his case those are very small. What my own astonished eyes saw of Bartleby, that is all I

Ere introducing the scrivener, as he first appeared to me, it is fit I make some mention of myself, my

employées, my business, my chambers, and general surroundings; because some such description is

indispensable to an adequate understanding of the chief character about to be presented.

Imprimis: I am a man who, from his youth upwards, has been filled with a profound conviction that the

easiest way of life is the best. Hence, though I belong to a profession proverbially energetic and nervous,

even to turbulence, at times, yet nothing of that sort have I ever suffered to invade my peace. I am one of

those unambitious lawyers who never addresses a jury, or in any way draws down public applause; but in the

cool tranquillity of a snug retreat, do a snug business among rich men's bonds and mortgages and titledeeds.

All who know me consider me an eminently safe man. The late John Jacob Astor, a personage little given to

poetic enthusiasm, had no hesitation in pronouncing my first grand point to be prudence; my next, method. I

do not speak it in vanity, but simply record the fact, that I was not unemployed in my profession by the late

John Jacob Astor; a name which, I admit, I love to repeat, for it hath a rounded and orbicular sound to it, and

rings like unto bullion. I will freely add , that I was not insensible to the late John Jacob Astor's good opinion.

Some time prior to the period at which this little history begins, my avocations had been largely increased.

The good old office, now extinct in the State of NewYork, of a Master in Chancery, had been conferred

upon me. It was not a very arduous office, but very pleasantly remunerative. I seldom lose my temper; much

more seldom indulge in dangerous indignation at wrongs and outrages; but I must be permitted to be rash

here and declare, that I consider the sudden and violent abrogation of the office of Master of Chancery, by the

new Constitution, as a premature act; inasmuch as I had counted upon a lifelease of the profits,

My chambers were up stairs at No. Wallstreet. At one end they looked upon the white wall of the interior

of a spacious skylight shaft, penetrating the building from top to bottom. This view might have been

considered rather tame than otherwise, deficient in what landscape painters call ``life.'' But if so, the view

from the other end of my chambers offered, at least, a contrast, if nothing more. In that direction my windows

commanded an unobstructed view of a lofty brick wall, black by age and everlasting shade; which wall

required no spyglass to bring out its lurking beauties, but for the benefit of all nearsighted spectators, was

pushed up to within ten feet of my window panes. Owing to the great height of the surrounding buildings,

and my chambers being on the second floor, the interval between this wall and mine not a little resembled a

At the period just preceding the advent of Bartleby, I had two persons as copyists in my employment, and a

promising lad as an officeboy. First, Turkey; second, Nippers; third, Ginger Nut. These may seem names,

the like of which are not usually found in the Directory. In truth they were nicknames, mutually conferred

upon each other by my three clerks, and were deemed expressive of their respective persons or characters.

Turkey was a short, pursy Englishman of about my own age, that is, somewhere not far from sixty. In the

morning, one might say, his face was of a fine florid hue, but after twelve o'clock, meridianhis dinner

hourit blazed like a grate full of Christmas coals; and continued blazingbut, as it were, with a gradual

wanetill 6 o'clock, P. M. or thereabouts, after which I saw no more of the proprietor of the face, which

gaining its meridian with the sun, seemed to set with it, to rise, culminate, and decline the following day, with

the like regularity and undiminished glory. There are m any singular coincidences I have known in the course

of my life, not the least among which was the fact, that exactly when Turkey displayed his fullest beams from

his red and radiant countenance, just then, too, at that critical moment, began the daily period when I

considered his business capacities as seriously disturbed for the remainder of the twentyfour hours. Not that

he was absolutely idle, or averse to business then; far from it. The difficulty was, he was apt to be altogether

too energetic. There was a strange, inflamed, flurried, flighty recklessness of activity about him. He would be

incautious in dipping his pen into his inkstand. All his blots upon my documents, were dropped there after

twelve o'clock, meridian. Indeed, not only would he be reckless and sadly given to making blots in the

afternoon, but some days he went further, and was rather noisy. At such times, too, his face flamed with

augmented blazonry, as if cannel coal had been heaped on anthracite. He made an unpleasant racket with hi s

chair; spilled his sandbox; in mending his pens, impatiently split them all to pieces, and threw them on the

floor in a sudden passion; stood up and leaned over his table, boxing his papers about in a most indecorous

manner, very sad to behold in an elderly man like him. Nevertheless, as he was in many ways a most valuable

person to me, and all the time before twelve o'clock, meridian, was the quickest, steadiest creature too,

accomplishing a great deal of work in a style not easy to be matchedfor these reasons, I was willing to

overlook his eccentricities, though indeed, occasionally, I remonstrated with him. I did this very gently,

however, because, though the civilest, nay, the blandest and most reverential of men in the morning, yet in

the afternoon he was disposed, upon provocation, to be slightly rash with his tongue, in fact, insolent. Now,

valuing his morning services as I did, and resolved not to lose them; yet, at the same time made

uncomfortable by his inflamed ways after twelve o'clock; and being a man of peace, unwilling by my

admonitions to call forth unseemly retorts from him; I took upon me, one Saturday noon (he was always

worse on Saturdays), to hint to him, very kindly, that perhaps now that he was growing old, it might be well

to abridge his labors; in short, he need not come to my chambers after twelve o'clock, but, dinner over, had

best go home to his lodgings and rest himself till teatime. But no; he insisted upon his afternoon devotions.

His countenance became intolerably fervid, as he oratorically assured megesticulating with a long ruler at

the other end of the roomthat if his services in the morning were useful, how indispensible, then, in the

``With submission, sir,'' said Turkey on this occasion, ``I consider myself your righthand man. In the

morning I but marshal and deploy my columns; but in the afternoon I put myself at their head, and gallantly

``True,but, with submission, sir, behold these hairs! I am getting old. Surely, sir, a blot or two of a warm

afternoon is not to be severely urged against gray hairs. Old ageeven if it blot the pageis honorable.

This appeal to my fellowfeeling was hardly to be resisted. At all events, I saw that go he would not. So I

made up my mind to let him stay, resolving, nevertheless, to see to it, that during the afternoon he had to do

Nippers, the second on my list, was a whiskered, sallow, and, upon the whole, rather piraticallooking young

man of about five and twenty. I always deemed him the victim of two evil powersambition and

indigestion. The ambition was evinced by a certain impatience of the duties of a mere copyist, an

unwarrantable usurpation of strictly professional affairs, such as the original drawing up of legal documents.

The indigestion seemed betokened in an occasional nervous testiness and grinning irritability, causing the

teeth to audibly grind together over mistakes committed in copying; unnecessary maledictions, hissed, rather

than spoken, in the heat of business; and especially by a continual discontent with the height of the table

where he worked. Though of a very ingenious mechanical turn, Nippers could never get this table to suit him.

He put chips under it, blocks of various sorts, bits of pasteboard, and at last went so far as to attempt an

exquisite adjustment by final pieces of folded blottingpaper. But no invention would answer. If, for the sake

of easing his back, he brought the table lid at a sharp angle well up towards his chin, and wrote there like a

man using the steep roof of a Dutch house for his desk:then he declared that it stopped the circulation in

his arms. If now he lowered the table to his waistbands, and stooped over it in writing, then there was a sore

aching in his back. In short, the truth of the matter was, Nippers knew not what he wanted. Or, if he wanted

any thing, it was to be rid of a scrivener's table altogether. Among the manifestations of his diseased ambition

was a fondness he had for receiving visits from certain ambiguouslooking fellows in seedy coats, whom he

called his clients. Indeed I was aware that not only was he, at times, considerable of a wardpolitician, but he

occasionally did a little business at the Justices' courts, and was not unknown on the steps of the Tombs. I

have good reason to believe, however, that one individual who called upon him at my chambers, and who,

with a grand air, he insisted was his client, was no other than a dun, and the alleged titledeed, a bill. But

with all his failings, and the annoyances he caused me, Nippers, like his compatriot Turkey, was a very useful

man to me; wrote a neat, swift hand; and, when he chose, was not deficient in a gentlemanly sort of

deportment. Added to this, he always dressed in a gentlemanly sort of way; and so, incidentally, reflected

credit upon my chambers. Whereas with respect to Turkey, I had much ado to keep him from being a

reproach to me. His clothes were apt to look oily and smell of eatinghouses. He wore his pantaloons very

loose and baggy in summer. His coats were execrable; his hat not be to handled. But while the hat was a thing

of indifference to me, inasmuch as his natural civility and deference, as a dependent Englishman, always led

him to doff it the moment he entered the room, yet his coat was another matter. Concerning his coats, I

reasoned with him; but with no effect. The truth was, I suppos e, that a man with so small an income, could

not afford to sport such a lustrous face and a lustrous coat at one and the same time. As Nippers once

observed, Turkey's money went chiefly for red ink. One winter day I presented Turkey with a

highlyrespectable looking coat of my own, a padded gray coat, of a most comfortable warmth, and which

buttoned straight up from the knee to the neck. I thought Turkey would appreciate the favor, and abate his

rashness and obstreperousness of afternoons. But no. I verily believe that buttoning himself up in so downy

and blanketlike a coat had a pernicious effect upon him; upon the same principle that too much oats are bad

for horses. In fact, precisely as a rash, restive horse is said to feel his oats, so Turkey felt his coat. It made

Though concerning the selfindulgent habits of Turkey I had my own private surmises, yet touching Nippers

I was well persuaded that whatever might be his faults in other respects, he was, at least, a temperate young

man. But indeed, nature herself seemed to have been his vintner, and at his birth charged him so thoroughly

with an irritable, brandylike disposition, that all subsequent potations were needless. When I consider how,

amid the stillness of my chambers, Nippers would sometimes impatiently rise from his seat, and stooping

over his table, spread his arms wide apart, seize the whole desk, and move it, and jerk it, with a grim,

grinding motion on the floor, as if the table were a perverse voluntary agent, intent on thwarting and vexing

him; I plainly perceive that for Nippers, brandy and water were altogether superfluous.

It was fortunate for me that, owing to its peculiar causeindigestionthe irritability and consequent

nervousness of Nippers, were mainly observable in the morning, while in the afternoon he was comparatively

mild. So that Turkey's paroxysms only coming on about twelve o'clock, I never had to do with their

eccentricities at one time. Their fits relieved each other like guards. When Nippers' was on, Turkey's was off;

Ginger Nut, the third on my list, was a lad some twelve years old. His father was a carman, ambitious of

seeing his son on the bench instead of a cart, before he died. So he sent him to my office as student at law,

errand boy, and cleaner and sweeper, at the rate of one dollar a week. He had a little desk to himself, but he

did not use it much. Upon inspection, the drawer exhibited a great array of the shells of various sorts of nuts.

Indeed, to this quickwitted youth the whole noble science of the law was contained in a nutshell. Not the

least among the employments of Ginger Nut, as well as one which he discharged with the most alacrity, was

his duty as cake and apple purveyor for Turkey and Nippers. Copying law papers being proverbially a dry,

husky sort of business, my two scriveners were fain to moisten their mouths very often with Spitzenbergs to

be had at the numerous stalls nigh the Custom House and Post Office. Also, they sent Ginger Nut very

frequently for that peculiar cakesmall, flat, round , and very spicyafter which he had been named by

them. Of a cold morning when business was but dull, Turkey would gobble up scores of these cakes, as if

they were mere wafersindeed they sell them at the rate of six or eight for a pennythe scrape of his pen

blending with the crunching of the crisp particles in his mouth. Of all the fiery afternoon blunders and flurried

rashnesses of Turkey, was his once moistening a gingercake between his lips, and clapping it on to a

mortgage for a seal. I came within an ace of dismissing him then. But he mollified me by making an oriental

bow, and saying''With submission, sir, it was generous of me to find you in stationery on my own

Now my original businessthat of a conveyancer and title hunter, and drawerup of recondite documents of

all sortswas considerably increased by receiving the master's office. There was now great work for

scriveners. Not only must I push the clerks already with me, but I must have additional help. In answer to my

advertisement, a motionless young man one morning, stood upon my office threshold, the door being open,

for it was summer. I can see that figure nowpallidly neat, pitiably respectable, incurably forlorn! It was

After a few words touching his qualifications, I engaged him, glad to have among my corps of copyists a man

of so singularly sedate an aspect, which I thought might operate beneficially upon the flighty temper of

I should have stated before that ground glass foldingdoors divided my premises into two parts, one of which

was occupied by my scriveners, the other by myself. According to my humor I threw open these doors, or

closed them. I resolved to assign Bartleby a corner by the foldingdoors, but on my side of them, so as to

have this quiet man within easy call, in case any trifling thing was to be done. I placed his desk close up to a

small sidewindow in that part of the room, a window which originally had afforded a lateral view of certain

grimy backyards and bricks, but which, owing to subsequent erections, commanded at present no view at

all, though it gave some light. Within three feet of the panes was a wall, and the light came down from far

above, between two lofty buildings, as from a very small opening in a dome. Still further to a satisfactory

arrangement, I procured a high green folding screen, which might entirely isolate Bartleby from my sight,

though not remove him from my voice. And thus, in a ma nner, privacy and society were conjoined.

At first Bartleby did an extraordinary quantity of writing. As if long famishing for something to copy, he

seemed to gorge himself on my documents. There was no pause for digestion. He ran a day and night line,

copying by sunlight and by candlelight. I should have been quite delighted with his application, had be

It is, of course, an indispensable part of a scrivener's business to verify the accuracy of his copy, word by

word. Where there are two or more scriveners in an office, they assist each other in this examination, one

reading from the copy, the other holding the original. It is a very dull, wearisome, and lethargic affair. I can

readily imagine that to some sanguine temperaments it would be altogether intolerable. For example, I cannot

credit that the mettlesome poet Byron would have contentedly sat down with Bartleby to examine a law

Now and then, in the haste of business, it had been my habit to assist in comparing some brief document

myself, calling Turkey or Nippers for this purpose. One object I had in placing Bartleby so handy to me

behind the screen, was to avail myself of his services on such trivial occasions. It was on the third day, I

think, of his being with me, and before any necessity had arisen for having his own writing examined, that,

being much hurried to complete a small affair I had in hand, I abruptly called to Bartleby. In my haste and

natural expectancy of instant compliance, I sat with my head bent over the original on my desk, and my right

hand sideways, and somewhat nervously extended with the copy, so that immediately upon emerging from

his retreat, Bartleby might snatch it and proceed to business without the least delay.

In this very attitude did I sit when I called to him, rapidly stating what it was I wanted him to donamely, to

examine a small paper with me. Imagine my surprise, nay, my consternation, when without moving from his

privacy, Bartleby in a singularly mild, firm voice, replied, ``I would prefer not to.''

I sat awhile in perfect silence, rallying my stunned faculties. Immediately it occurred to me that my ears had

deceived me, or Bartleby had entirely misunderstood my meaning. I repeated my request in the clearest tone I

could assume. But in quite as clear a one came the previous reply, ``I would prefer not to.''

``Prefer not to,'' echoed I, rising in high excitement, and crossing the room with a stride. ``What do you

mean? Are you moonstruck? I want you to help me compare this sheet heretake it,'' and I thrust it towards

I looked at him steadfastly. His face was leanly composed; his gray eye dimly calm. Not a wrinkle of

agitation rippled him. Had there been the least uneasiness, anger, impatience or impertinence in his manner;

in other words, had there been any thing ordinarily human about him, doubtless I should have violently

dismissed him from the premises. But as it was, I should have as soon thought of turning my pale

plasterofparis bust of Cicero out of doors. I stood gazing at him awhile, as he went on with his own

writing, and then reseated myself at my desk. This is very strange, thought I. What had one best do? But my

business hurried me. I concluded to forget the matter for the present, reserving it for my future leisure. So

A few days after this, Bartleby concluded four lengthy documents, being quadruplicates of a week's

testimony taken before me in my High Court of Chancery. It became necessary to examine them. It was an

important suit, and great accuracy was imperative. Having all things arranged I called Turkey, Nippers and

Ginger Nut from the next room, meaning to place the four copies in the hands of my four clerks, while I

should read from the original. Accordingly Turkey, Nippers and Ginger Nut had taken their seats in a row,

each with his document in hand, when I called to Bartleby to join this interesting group.

I heard a slow scrape of his chair legs on the uncarpeted floor, and soon he appeared standing at the entrance

``The copies, the copies,'' said I hurriedly. ``We are going to examine them. There''and I held towards him

For a few moments I was turned into a pillar of salt, standing at the head of my seated column of clerks.

Recovering myself, I advanced towards the screen, and demanded the reason for such extraordinary conduct.

With any other man I should have flown outright into a dreadful passion, scorned all further words, and thrust

him ignominiously from my presence. But there was something about Bartleby that not only strangely

disarmed me, but in a wonderful manner touched and disconcerted me. I began to reason with him.

``These are your own copies we are about to examine. It is labor saving to you, because one examination will

answer for your four papers. It is common usage. Every copyist is bound to help examine his copy. Is it not

``I prefer not to,'' he replied in a flutelike tone. It seemed to me that while I had been addressing him, he

carefully revolved every statement that I made; fully comprehended the meaning; could not gainsay the

irresistible conclusion; but, at the same time, some paramount consideration prevailed with him to reply as he

``You are decided, then, not to comply with my requesta request made according to common usage and

He briefly gave me to understand that on that point my judgment was sound. Yes: his decision was

It is not seldom the case that when a man is browbeaten in some unprecedented and violently unreasonable

way, he begins to stagger in his own plainest faith. He begins, as it were, vaguely to surmise that, wonderful

as it may be, all the justice and all the reason is on the other side. Accordingly, if any disinterested persons

are present, he turns to them for some reinforcement for his own faltering mind.

``With submission, sir,'' said Turkey, with his blandest tone, ``I think that you are.''

(The reader of nice perceptions will here perceive that, it being morning, Turkey's answer is couched in polite

and tranquil terms, but Nippers replies in illtempered ones. Or, to repeat a previous sentence, Nippers's ugly

``Ginger Nut,'' said I, willing to enlist the smallest suffrage in my behalf, ``what do you think of it?''

``You hear what they say,'' said I, turning towards the screen, ``come forth and do your duty.''

But he vouchsafed no reply. I pondered a moment in sore perplexity. But once more business hurried me. I

determined again to postpone the consideration of this dilemma to my future leisure. With a little trouble we

made out to examine the papers without Bartleby, though at every page or two, Turkey deferentially dropped

his opinion that this proceeding was quite out of the common; while Nippers, twitching in his chair with a

dyspeptic nervousness, ground out between his set teeth occasional hissing maledictions against the stubborn

oaf behind the screen. And for his (Nippers's) part, this was the first and the last time he would do another

Meanwhile Bartleby sat in his hermitage, oblivious to every thing but his own peculiar business there.

Some days passed, the scrivener being employed upon another lengthy work. His late remarkable conduct led

me to regard his ways narrowly. I observed that he never went to dinner; indeed that he never went any

where. As yet I had never of my personal knowledge known him to be outside of my office. He was a

perpetual sentry in the corner. At about eleven o'clock though, in the morning, I noticed that Ginger Nut

would advance toward the opening in Bartleby's screen, as if silently beckoned thither by a gesture invisible

to me where I sat. The boy would then leave the office jingling a few pence, and reappear with a handful of

gingernuts which he delivered in the hermitage, receiving two of the cakes for his trouble.

He lives, then, on gingernuts, thought I; never eats a dinner, properly speaking; he must be a vegetarian

then; but no; he never eats even vegetables, he eats nothing but gingernuts. My mind then ran on in reveries

concerning the probable effects upon the human constitution of living entirely on gingernuts. Gingernuts

are so called because they contain ginger as one of their peculiar constituents, and the final flavoring one.

Now what was ginger? A hot, spicy thing. Was Bartleby hot and spicy? Not at all. Ginger, then, had no effect

Nothing so aggravates an earnest person as a passive resistance. If the individual so resisted be of a not

inhumane temper, and the resisting one perfectly harmless in his passivity; then, in the better moods of the

former, he will endeavor charitably to construe to his imagination what proves impossible to be solved by his

judgment. Even so, for the most part, I regarded Bartleby and his ways. Poor fellow! thought I, he means no

mischief; it is plain he intends no insolence; his aspect sufficiently evinces that his eccentricities are

involuntary. He is useful to me. I can get along with him. If I turn him away, the chances are he will fall in

with some less indulgent employer, and then he will be rudely treated, and perhaps driven forth miserably to

starve. Yes. Here I can cheaply purchase a delicious selfapproval. To befriend Bartleby; to humor him in his

strange wilfulness, will cost me little or nothing, while I lay up in my soul what will eventually prove a sweet

morsel for my conscience. But this m ood was not invariable with me. The passiveness of Bartleby

sometimes irritated me. I felt strangely goaded on to encounter him in new opposition, to elicit some angry

spark from him answerable to my own. But indeed I might as well have essayed to strike fire with my

knuckles against a bit of Windsor soap. But one afternoon the evil impulse in me mastered me, and the

``Bartleby,'' said I, ``when those papers are all copied, I will compare them with you.''

I threw open the foldingdoors near by, and turning upon Turkey and Nippers, exclaimed in an excited

``He says, a second time, he won't examine his papers. What do you think of it, Turkey?''

It was afternoon, be it remembered. Turkey sat glowing like a brass boiler, his bald head steaming, his hands

``Think of it?'' roared Turkey; ``I think I'll just step behind his screen, and black his eyes for him!''

So saying, Turkey rose to his feet and threw his arms into a pugilistic position. He was hurrying away to

make good his promise, when I detained him, alarmed at the effect of incautiously rousing Turkey's

``Sit down, Turkey,'' said I, ``and hear what Nippers has to say. What do you think of it, Nippers? Would I

``Excuse me, that is for you to decide, sir. I think his conduct quite unusual, and indeed unjust, as regards

``Ah,'' exclaimed I, ``you have strangely changed your mind thenyou speak very gently of him now.''

``All beer,'' cried Turkey; ``gentleness is effects of beerNippers and I dined together today. You see how

``You refer to Bartleby, I suppose. No, not today, Turkey,'' I replied; ''pray, put up your fists.''

I closed the doors, and again advanced towards Bartleby. I felt additional incentives tempting me to my fate. I

burned to be rebelled against again. I remembered that Bartleby never left the office.

``Bartleby,'' said I, ``Ginger Nut is away; just step round to the Post Office, won't you? (it was but a three

I staggered to my desk, and sat there in a deep study. My blind inveteracy returned. Was there any other thing

in which I could procure myself to be ignominiously repulsed by this lean, penniless wight?my hired

clerk? What added thing is there, perfectly reasonable, that he will be sure to refuse to do?

Like a very ghost, agreeably to the laws of magical invocation, at the third summons, he appeared at the

``Very good, Bartleby,'' said I, in a quiet sort of serenely severe selfpossessed tone, intimating the

unalterable purpose of some terrible retribution very close at hand. At the moment I half intended something

of the kind. But upon the whole, as it was drawing towards my dinnerhour, I thought it best to put on my hat

Shall I acknowledge it? The conclusion of this whole business was, that it soon became a fixed fact of my

chambers, that a pale young scrivener, by the name of Bartleby, had a desk there; that he copied for me at the

usual rate of four cents a folio (one hundred words); but he was permanently exempt from examining the

work done by him, that duty being transferred to Turkey and Nippers, one of compliment doubtless to their

superior acuteness; moreover, said Bartleby was never on any account to be dispatched on the most trivial

errand of any sort; and that even if entreated to take upon him such a matter, it was generally understood that

As days passed on, I became considerably reconciled to Bartleby. His steadiness, his freedom from all

dissipation, his incessant industry (except when he chose to throw himself into a standing revery behind his

screen), his great stillness, his unalterableness of demeanor under all circumstances, made him a valuable

acquisition. One prime thing was this, he was always there;first in the morning, continually through the

day, and the last at night. I had a singular confidence in his honesty. I felt my most precious papers perfectly

safe in his hands. Sometimes to be sure I could not, for the very soul of me, avoid falling into sudden

spasmodic passions with him. For it was exceeding difficult to bear in mind all the time those strange

peculiarities, privileges, and unheard of exemptions, forming the tacit stipulations on Bartleby's part under

which he remained in my office. Now and then, in the eagerness of dispatching pressing business, I would

inadvertently summon Bartleby, in a short, rapid ton e, to put his finger, say, on the incipient tie of a bit of

red tape with which I was about compressing some papers. Of course, from behind the screen the usual

answer, ``I prefer not to,'' was sure to come; and then, how could a human creature with the common

infirmities of our nature, refrain from bitterly exclaiming upon such perversenesssuch unreasonableness.

However, every added repulse of this sort which I received only tended to lessen the probability of my

Here is must be said, that according to the custom of most legal gentlemen occupying chambers in

denselypopulated law buildings, there were several keys to my door. One was kept by a woman residing in

the attic, which person weekly scrubbed and daily swept and dusted my apartments. Another was kept by

Turkey for convenience sake. The third I sometimes carried in my own pocket. The fourth I knew not who

Now, one Sunday morning I happened to go to Trinity Church, to hear a celebrated preacher, and finding

myself rather early on the ground, I thought I would walk round to my chambers for a while. Luckily I had

my key with me; but upon applying it to the lock, I found it resisted by something inserted from the inside.

Quite surprised, I called out; when to my consternation a key was turned from within; and thrusting his lean

visage at me, and holding the door ajar, the apparition of Bartleby appeared, in his shirt sleeves, and

otherwise in a strangely tattered dishabille, saying quietly that he was sorry, but he was deeply engaged just

then, andpreferred not admitting me at present. In a brief word or two, he moreover added, that perhaps I

had better walk round the block two or three times, and by that time he would probably have concluded his

Now, the utterly unsurmised appearance of Bartleby, tenanting my lawchambers of a Sunday morning, with

his cadaverously gentlemanly nonchalance, yet withal firm and selfpossessed, had such a strange effect

upon me, that incontinently I slunk away from my own door, and did as desired. But not without sundry

twinges of impotent rebellion against the mild effrontery of this unaccountable scrivener. Indeed, it was his

wonderful mildness chiefly, which not only disarmed me, but unmanned me, as it were. For I consider that

one, for the time, is a sort of unmanned when he tranquilly permits his hired clerk to dictate to him, and order

him away from his own premises. Furthermore, I was full of uneasiness as to what Bartleby could possibly be

doing in my office in his shirt sleeves, and in an otherwise dismantled condition of a Sunday morning. Was

any thing amiss going on? Nay, that was out of the question. It was not to be thought of for a moment that

Bartleby was an immoral person. But what could he be doing there?copying? Nay again, whatever might

be his eccentricities, Bartleby was an eminently decorous person. He would be the last man to sit down to his

desk in any state approaching to nudity. Besides, it was Sunday; and there was something about Bartleby that

forbade the supposition that we would by any secular occupation violate the proprieties of the day.

Nevertheless, my mind was not pacified; and full of a restless curiosity, at last I returned to the door. Without

hindrance I inserted my key, opened it, and entered. Bartleby was not to be seen. I looked round anxiously,

peeped behind his screen; but it was very plain that he was gone. Upon more closely examining the place, I

surmised that for an indefinite period Bartleby must have ate, dressed, and slept in my office, and that too

without plate, mirror, or bed. The cushioned seat of a ricketty old sofa in one corner bore the faint impress of

a lean, reclining form. Rolled away under his desk, I found a blanket; under the empty grate, a blacking box

and brush; on a chair, a tin basin, with soap and a ragged towel; in a newspaper a few crumbs of gingernuts

and a morsel of cheese. Yet, thought I, it is evident enough that Bartleby has been making his home here,

keeping bachelor's hall all by himself. Immediately then the thought came sweeping across me, What

miserable friendlessness and loneliness are he re revealed! His poverty is great; but his solitude, how

horrible! Think of it. Of a Sunday, Wallstreet is deserted as Petra; and every night of every day it is an

emptiness. This building too, which of weekdays hums with industry and life, at nightfall echoes with sheer

vacancy, and all through Sunday is forlorn. And here Bartleby makes his home; sole spectator of a solitude

which he has seen all populousa sort of innocent and transformed Marius brooding among the ruins of

For the first time in my life a feeling of overpowering stinging melancholy seized me. Before, I had never

experienced aught but a notunpleasing sadness. The bond of a common humanity now drew me irresistibly

to gloom. A fraternal melancholy! For both I and Bartleby were sons of Adam. I remembered the bright silks

and sparkling faces I had seen that day, in gala trim, swanlike sailing down the Mississippi of Broadway;

and I contrasted them with the pallid copyist, and thought to myself, Ah, happiness courts the light, so we

deem the world is gay; but misery hides aloof, so we deem that misery there is none. These sad

fancyingschimeras, doubtless, of a sick and silly brainled on to other and more special thoughts,

concerning the eccentricities of Bartleby. Presentiments of strange discoveries hovered round me. The

scrivener's pale form appeared to me laid out, among uncaring strangers, in its shivering winding sheet.

Suddenly I was attracted by Bartleby's closed desk, the key in open sight left in the lock.

I mean no mischief, seek the gratification of no heartless curiosity, thought I; besides, the desk is mine, and

its contents too, so I will make bold to look within. Every thing was methodically arranged, the papers

smoothly placed. The pigeon holes were deep, and removing the files of documents, I groped into their

recesses. Presently I felt something there, and dragged it out. It was an old bandanna handkerchief, heavy and

I now recalled all the quiet mysteries which I had noted in the man. I remembered that he never spoke but to

answer; that though at intervals he had considerable time to himself, yet I had never seen him readingno,

not even a newspaper; that for long periods he would stand looking out, at his pale window behind the screen,

upon the dead brick wall; I was quite sure he never visited any refectory or eating house; while his pale face

clearly indicated that he never drank beer like Turkey, or tea and coffee even, like other men; that he never

went any where in particular that I could learn; never went out for a walk, unless indeed that was the case at

present; that he had declined telling who he was, or whence he came, or whether he had any relatives in the

world; that though so thin and pale, he never complained of ill health. And more than all, I remembered a

certain unconscious air of pallidhow shall I call it?of pallid haughtiness, say, or rather an austere reserve

about him, which had positively a wed me into my tame compliance with his eccentricities, when I had feared

to ask him to do the slightest incidental thing for me, even though I might know, from his longcontinued

motionlessness, that behind his screen he must be standing in one of those deadwall reveries of his.

Revolving all these things, and coupling them with the recently discovered fact that he made my office his

constant abiding place and home, and not forgetful of his morbid moodiness; revolving all these things, a

prudential feeling began to steal over me. My first emotions had been those of pure melancholy and sincerest

pity; but just in proportion as the forlornness of Bartleby grew and grew to my imagination, did that same

melancholy merge into fear, that pity into repulsion. So true it is, and so terrible too, that up to a certain point

the thought or sight of misery enlists our best affections; but, in certain special cases, beyond that point it

does not. They err who would assert that invariably this is owing to the inherent selfishness of the human

heart. It rather proceeds from a certain hopelessness of remedying excessive and organic ill. To a sensitive

being, pity is not seldom pain. And when at last it is perceived that such pity cannot lead to effectual succor,

common sense bids the soul be rid of it. What I saw that morning persuaded me that the scrivener was the

victim of innate and incurable disorder. I might give alms to his body; but his body did not pain him; it was

I did not accomplish the purpose of going to Trinity Church that morning. Somehow, the things I had seen

disqualified me for the time from churchgoing. I walked homeward, thinking what I would do with

Bartleby. Finally, I resolved upon this;I would put certain calm questions to him the next morning,

touching his history, &c., and if he declined to answer then openly and reservedly (and I supposed he would

prefer not), then to give him a twenty dollar bill over and above whatever I might owe him, and tell him his

services were no longer required; but that if in any other way I could assist him, I would be happy to do so,

especially if he desired to return to his native place, wherever that might be, I would willingly help to defray

the expenses. Moreover, if, after reaching home, he found himself at any time in want of aid, a letter from

``Bartleby,'' said I, in a still gentler tone, ``come here; I am not going to ask you to do any thing you would

``But what reasonable objection can you have to speak to me? I feel friendly towards you.''

He did not look at me while I spoke, but kept his glance fixed upon my bust of Cicero, which as I then sat,

``What is your answer, Bartleby?'' said I, after waiting a considerable time for a reply, during which his

countenance remained immovable, only there was the faintest conceivable tremor of the white attenuated

``At present I prefer to give no answer,'' he said, and retired into his hermitage.

It was rather weak in me I confess, but his manner on this occasion nettled me. Not only did there seem to

lurk in it a certain disdain, but his perverseness seemed ungrateful, considering the undeniable good usage

Again I sat ruminating what I should do. Mortified as I was at his behavior, and resolved as I had been to

dismiss him when I entered my office, nevertheless I strangely felt something superstitious knocking at my

heart, and forbidding me to carry out my purpose, and denouncing me for a villain if I dared to breathe one

bitter word against this forlornest of mankind. At last, familiarly drawing my chair behind his screen, I sat

down and said: ''Bartleby, never mind then about revealing your history; but let me entreat you, as a friend, to

comply as far as may be with the usages of this office. Say now you will help to examine papers tomorrow

or next day: in short, say now that in a day or two you will begin to be a little reasonable:say so, Bartleby.''

``At present I would prefer not to be a little reasonable,'' was his mildly cadaverous reply.

Just then the foldingdoors opened, and Nippers approached. He seemed suffering from an unusually bad

night's rest, induced by severer indigestion than common. He overheard those final words of Bartleby.

''Prefer not, eh?'' gritted Nippers''I'd prefer him, if I were you, sir,'' addressing me''I'd prefer him; I'd

give him preferences, the stubborn mule! What is it, sir, pray, that he prefersnot to do now?''

``Mr. Nippers,'' said I, ``I'd prefer that you would withdraw for the present.''

Somehow, of late I had got into the way of involuntarily using this word ''prefer'' upon all sorts of not exactly

suitable occasions. And I trembled to think that my contact with the scrivener had already and seriously

affected me in a mental way. And what further and deeper aberration might it not yet produce? This

As Nippers, looking very sour and sulky, was departing, Turkey blandly and deferentially approached.

``With submission, sir,'' said he, ``yesterday I was thinking about Bartleby here, and I think that if he would

but prefer to take a quart of good ale every day, it would do much towards mending him, and enabling him to

``With submission, what word, sir,'' asked Turkey, respectfully crowding himself into the contracted space

behind the screen, and by so doing, making me jostle the scrivener. ``What word, sir?''

``I would prefer to be left alone here,'' said Bartleby, as if offended at being mobbed in his privacy.

``Oh, prefer? oh yesqueer word. I never use it myself. But, sir, as I was saying, if he would but prefer''

As he opened the foldingdoor to retire, Nippers at his desk caught a glimpse of me, and asked whether I

would prefer to have a certain paper copied on blue paper or white. He did not in the least roguishly accent

the word prefer. It was plain that it involuntarily rolled from his tongue. I thought to myself, surely I must get

rid of a demented man, who already has in some degree turned the tongues, if not the heads of myself and

The next day I noticed that Bartleby did nothing but stand at his window in his deadwall revery. Upon

asking him why he did not write, he said that he had decided upon doing no more writing.

I looked steadfastly at him, and perceived that his eyes looked dull and glazed. Instantly it occurred to me,

that his unexampled diligence in copying by his dim window for the first few weeks of his stay with me

I was touched. I said something in condolence with him. I hinted that of course he did wisely in abstaining

from writing for a while; and urged him to embrace that opportunity of taking wholesome exercise in the

open air. This, however, he did not do. A few days after this, my other clerks being absent, and being in a

great hurry to dispatch certain letters by the mail, I thought that, having nothing else earthly to do, Bartleby

would surely be less inflexible than usual, and carry these letters to the postoffice. But he blankly declined.

Still added days went by. Whether Bartleby's eyes improved or not, I could not say. To all appearance, I

thought they did. But when I asked him if they did, he vouchsafed no answer. At all events, he would do no

copying. At last, in reply to my urgings, he informed me that he had permanently given up copying.

``What!'' exclaimed I; ``suppose your eyes should get entirely wellbetter than ever beforewould you not

He remained as ever, a fixture in my chamber. Nayif that were possiblehe became still more of a fixture

than before. What was to be done? He would do nothing in the office: why should he stay there? In plain fact,

he had now become a millstone to me, not only useless as a necklace, but afflictive to bear. Yet I was sorry

for him. I speak less than truth when I say that, on his own account, he occasioned me uneasiness. If he would

but have named a single relative or friend, I would instantly have written, and urged their taking the poor

fellow away to some convenient retreat. But he seemed alone, absolutely alone in the universe. A bit of wreck

in the mid Atlantic. At length, necessities connected with my business tyrannized over all other

considerations. Decently as I could, I told Bartleby that in six days' time he must unconditionally leave the

office. I warned him to take measures, in the interval, for procuring some other abode. I offered to assist him

in this endeavor, if he himself would but tak e the first step towards a removal. ``And when you finally quit

me, Bartleby,'' added I, ``I shall see that you go not away entirely unprovided. Six days from this hour,

At the expiration of that period, I peeped behind the screen, and lo! Bartleby was there.

I buttoned up my coat, balanced myself; advanced slowly towards him, touched his shoulder, and said, ``The

time has come; you must quit this place; I am sorry for you; here is money; but you must go.''

Now I had an unbounded confidence in this man's common honesty. He had frequently restored to me

sixpences and shillings carelessly dropped upon the floor, for I am apt to be very reckless in such

shirtbutton affairs. The proceeding then which followed will not be deemed extraordinary.

``Bartleby,'' said I, ``I owe you twelve dollars on account; here are thirtytwo; the odd twenty are

``I will leave them here then,'' putting them under a weight on the table. Then taking my hat and cane and

going to the door I tranquilly turned and added''After you have removed your things from these offices,

Bartleby, you will of course lock the doorsince every one is now gone for the day but youand if you

please, slip your key underneath the mat, so that I may have it in the morning. I shall not see you again; so

goodbye to you. If hereafter in your new place of abode I can be of any service to you, do not fail to advise

But he answered not a word; like the last column of some ruined temple, he remained standing mute and

As I walked home in a pensive mood, my vanity got the better of my pity. I could not but highly plume

myself on my masterly management in getting rid of Bartleby. Masterly I call it, and such it must appear to

any dispassionate thinker. The beauty of my procedure seemed to consist in its perfect quietness. There was

no vulgar bullying, no bravado of any sort, no choleric hectoring, and striding to and fro across the apartment,

jerking out vehement commands for Bartleby to bundle himself off with his beggarly traps. Nothing of the

kind. Without loudly bidding Bartleby departas an inferior genius might have doneI assumed the ground

that depart he must; and upon the assumption built all I had to say. The more I thought over my procedure,

the more I was charmed with it. Nevertheless, next morning, upon awakening, I had my doubts,I had

somehow slept off the fumes of vanity. One of the coolest and wisest hours a man has, is just after he awakes

in the morning. My procedure seemed as sagacious as ev er,but only in theory. How it would prove in

practicethere was the rub. It was truly a beautiful thought to have assumed Bartleby's departure; but, after

all, that assumption was simply my own, and none of Bartleby's. The great point was, not whether I had

assumed that he would quit me, but whether he would prefer so to do. He was more a man of preferences than

AFTER breakfast, I walked down town, arguing the probabilities proand con. One moment I thought it would

prove a miserable failure, and Bartleby would be found all alive at my office as usual; the next moment it

seemed certain that I should see his chair empty. And so I kept veering about. At the corner of Broadway and

Canalstreet, I saw quite an excited group of people standing in earnest conversation.

I was instinctively putting my hand in my pocket to produce my own, when I remembered that this was an

election day. The words I had overheard bore no reference to Bartleby, but to the success or nonsuccess of

some candidate for the mayoralty. In my intent frame of mind, I had, as it were, imagined that all Broadway

shared in my excitement, and were debating the same question with me. I passed on, very thankful that the

As I had intended, I was earlier than usual at my office door. I stood listening for a moment. All was still. He

must be gone. I tried the knob. The door was locked. Yes, my procedure had worked to a charm; he indeed

must be vanished. Yet a certain melancholy mixed with this: I was almost sorry for my brilliant success. I

was fumbling under the door mat for the key, which Bartleby was to have left there for me, when accidentally

my knee knocked against a panel, producing a summoning sound, and in response a voice came to me from

I was thunderstruck. For an instant I stood like the man who, pipe in mouth, was killed one cloudless

afternoon long ago in Virginia, by summer lightning; at his own warm open window he was killed, and

remained leaning out there upon the dreamy afternoon, till some one touched him, when he fell.

``Not gone!'' I murmured at last. But again obeying that wondrous ascendancy which the inscrutable scrivener

had over me, and from which ascendency, for all my chafing, I could not completely escape, I slowly went

down stairs and out into the street, and while walking round the block, considered what I should next do in

this unheardof perplexity. Turn the man out by an actual thrusting I could not; to drive him away by calling

him hard names would not do; calling in the police was an unpleasant idea; and yet, permit him to enjoy his

cadaverous triumph over me,this too I could not think of. What was to be done? or, if nothing could be

done, was there any thing further that I could assume in the matter? Yes, as before I had prospectively

assumed that Bartleby would depart, so now I might retrospectively assume that departed he was. In the

legitimate carrying out of this assumption, I might enter my office in a great hurry, and pretending not to see

Bartleby at all, walk straight against him as if he were air. Such a proceeding would in a singular degree have

the appearance of a homethrust. It was hardly possible that Bartleby could withstand such an application of

the doctrine of assumptions. But upon second thoughts the success of the plan seemed rather dubious. I

``Bartleby,'' said I, entering the office, with a quietly severe expression, ''I am seriously displeased. I am

pained, Bartleby. I had thought better of you. I had imagined you of such a gentlemanly organization, that in

any delicate dilemma a slight hint would sufficein short, an assumption. But it appears I am deceived.

Why,'' I added, unaffectedly starting, ``you have not even touched the money yet,'' pointing to it, just where I

``Will you, or will you not, quit me?'' I now demanded in a sudden passion, advancing close to him.

``What earthly right have you to stay here? Do you pay any rent? Do you pay my taxes? Or is this property

``Are you ready to go on and write now? Are your eyes recovered? Could you copy a small paper for me this

morning? or help examine a few lines? or step round to the postoffice? In a word, will you do any thing at

I was now in such a state of nervous resentment that I thought it but prudent to check myself at present from

further demonstrations. Bartleby and I were alone. I remembered the tragedy of the unfortunate Adams and

the still more unfortunate Colt in the solitary office of the latter; and how poor Colt, being dreadfully

incensed by Adams, and imprudently permitting himself to get wildly excited, was at unawares hurried into

his fatal actan act which certainly no man could possibly deplore more than the actor himself. Often it had

occurred to me in my ponderings upon the subject, that had that altercation taken place in the public street, or

at a private residence, it would not have terminated as it did. It was the circumstance of being alone in a

solitary office, up stairs, of a building entirely unhallowed by humanizing domestic associationsan

uncarpeted office, doubtless, of a dusty, haggard sort of appearance;this it must have been, which greatly

But when this old Adam of resentment rose in me and tempted me concerning Bartleby, I grappled him and

threw him. How? Why, simply by recalling the divine injunction: ``A new commandment give I unto you,

that ye love one another.'' Yes, this it was that saved me. Aside from higher considerations, charity often

operates as a vastly wise and prudent principlea great safeguard to its possessor. Men have committed

murder for jealousy's sake, and anger's sake, and hatred's sake, and selfishness' sake, and spiritual pride's

sake; but no man that ever I heard of, ever committed a diabolical murder for sweet charity's sake. Mere

selfinterest, then, if no better motive can be enlisted, should, especially with hightempered men, prompt all

beings to charity and philanthropy. At any rate, upon the occasion in question, I strove to drown my

exasperated feelings towards the scrivener by benevolently construing his conduct. Poor fellow, poor fellow!

thought I, he don't mean any thing; and besides, he has seen hard tim es, and ought to be indulged.

I endeavored also immediately to occupy myself, and at the same time to comfort my despondency. I tried to

fancy that in the course of the morning, at such time as might prove agreeable to him, Bartleby, of his own

free accord, would emerge from his hermitage, and take up some decided line of march in the direction of the

door. But no. Halfpast twelve o'clock came; Turkey began to glow in the face, overturn his inkstand, and

become generally obstreperous; Nippers abated down into quietude and courtesy; Ginger Nut munched his

noon apple; and Bartleby remained standing at his window in one of his profoundest deadwall reveries. Will

it be credited? Ought I to acknowledge it? That afternoon I left the office without saying one further word to

Some days now passed, during which, at leisure intervals I looked a little into ``Edwards on the Will,'' and

``Priestley on Necessity.'' Under the circumstances, those books induced a salutary feeling. Gradually I slid

into the persuasion that these troubles of mine touching the scrivener, had been all predestinated from

eternity, and Bartleby was billeted upon me for some mysterious purpose of an allwise Providence, which it

was not for a mere mortal like me to fathom. Yes, Bartleby, stay there behind your screen, thought I; I shall

persecute you no more; you are harmless and noiseless as any of these old chairs; in short, I never feel so

private as when I know you are here. At least I see it, I feel it; I penetrate to the predestinated purpose of my

life. I am content. Others may have loftier parts to enact; but my mission in this world, Bartleby, is to furnish

I believe that this wise and blessed frame of mind would have continued with me, had it not been for the

unsolicited and uncharitable remarks obtruded upon me by my professional friends who visited the rooms.

But thus it often is, that the constant friction of illiberal minds wears out at last the best resolves of the more

generous. Though to be sure, when I reflected upon it, it was not strange that people entering my office

should be struck by the peculiar aspect of the unaccountable Bartleby, and so be tempted to throw out some

sinister observations concerning him. Sometimes an attorney having business with me, and calling at my

office, and finding no one but the scrivener there, would undertake to obtain some sort of precise information

from him touching my whereabouts; but without heeding his idle talk, Bartleby would remain standing

immovable in the middle of the room. So after contemplating him in that position for a time, the attorney

Also, when a Reference was going on, and the room full of lawyers and witnesses and business was driving

fast; some deeply occupied legal gentleman present, seeing Bartleby wholly unemployed, would request him

to run round to his (the legal gentleman's) office and fetch some papers for him. Thereupon, Bartleby would

tranquilly decline, and yet remain idle as before. Then the lawyer would give a great stare, and turn to me.

And what could I say? At last I was made aware that all through the circle of my professional acquaintance, a

whisper of wonder was running round, having reference to the strange creature I kept at my office. This

worried me very much. And as the idea came upon me of his possibly turning out a longlived man, and keep

occupying my chambers, and denying my authority; and perplexing my visitors; and scandalizing my

professional reputation; and casting a general gloom over the premises; keeping soul and body together to the

last upon his savings (for doubtless he spent but half a dime a da y), and in the end perhaps outlive me, and

claim possession of my office by right of his perpetual occupancy: as all these dark anticipations crowded

upon me more and more, and my friends continually intruded their relentless remarks upon the apparition in

my room; a great change was wrought in me. I resolved to gather all my faculties together, and for ever rid

Ere revolving any complicated project, however, adapted to this end, I first simply suggested to Bartleby the

propriety of his permanent departure. In a calm and serious tone, I commended the idea to his careful and

mature consideration. But having taken three days to meditate upon it, he apprised me that his original

determination remained the same; in short, that he still preferred to abide with me.

What shall I do? I now said to myself, buttoning up my coat to the last button. What shall I do? what ought I

to do? what does conscience say I should do with this man, or rather ghost. Rid myself of him, I must; go, he

shall. But how? You will not thrust him, the poor, pale, passive mortal,you will not thrust such a helpless

creature out of your door? you will not dishonor yourself by such cruelty? No, I will not, I cannot do that.

Rather would I let him live and die here, and then mason up his remains in the wall. What then will you do?

For all your coaxing, he will not budge. Bribes he leaves under your own paperweight on your table; in short,

Then something severe, something unusual must be done. What! surely you will not have him collared by a

constable, and commit his innocent pallor to the common jail? And upon what ground could you procure

such a thing to be done?a vagrant, is he? What! he a vagrant, a wanderer, who refuses to budge? It is

because he will not be a vagrant, then, that you seek to count him as a vagrant. That is too absurd. No visible

means of support: there I have him. Wrong again: for indubitably he doessupport himself, and that is the only

unanswerable proof that any man can show of his possessing the means so to do. No more then. Since he will

not quit me, I must quit him. I will change my offices; I will move elsewhere; and give him fair notice, that if

I find him on my new premises I will then proceed against him as a common trespasser.

Acting accordingly, next day I thus addressed him: ``I find these chambers too far from the City Hall; the air

is unwholesome. In a word, I propose to remove my offices next week, and shall no longer require your

On the appointed day I engaged carts and men, proceeded to my chambers, and having but little furniture,

every thing was removed in a few hours. Throughout, the scrivener remained standing behind the screen,

which I directed to be removed the last thing. It was withdrawn; and being folded up like a huge folio, left

him the motionless occupant of a naked room. I stood in the entry watching him a moment, while something

``Goodbye, Bartleby; I am goinggoodbye, and God some way bless you; and take that,'' slipping

something in his hand. But it dropped upon the floor, and then,strange to sayI tore myself from him

Established in my new quarters, for a day or two I kept the door locked, and started at every footfall in the

passages. When I returned to my rooms after any little absence, I would pause at the threshold for an instant,

and attentively listen, ere applying my key. But these fears were needless. Bartleby never came nigh me.

I thought all was going well, when a perturbed looking stranger visited me, inquiring whether I was the

``Then sir,'' said the stranger, who proved a lawyer, ``you are responsible for the man you left there. He

refuses to do any copying; he refuses to do any thing; he says he prefers not to; and he refuses to quit the

``I am very sorry, sir,'' said I, with assumed tranquillity, but an inward tremor, ``but, really, the man you

allude to is nothing to mehe is no relation or apprentice of mine, that you should hold me responsible for

``I certainly cannot inform you. I know nothing about him. Formerly I employed him as a copyist; but he has

Several days passed, and I heard nothing more; and though I often felt a charitable prompting to call at the

place and see poor Bartleby, yet a certain squeamishness of I know not what withheld me.

All is over with him, by this time, thought I at last, when through another week no further intelligence

reached me. But coming to my room the day after, I found several persons waiting at my door in a high state

``That's the manhere he comes,'' cried the foremost one, whom I recognized as the lawyer who had

``You must take him away, sir, at once,'' cried a portly person among them, advancing upon me, and whom I

knew to be the landlord of No. Wallstreet. ''These gentlemen, my tenants, cannot stand it any longer; Mr.

B'' pointing to the lawyer, ``has turned him out of his room, and he now persists in haunting the

building generally, sitting upon the banisters of the stairs by day, and sleeping in the entry by night. Every

body is concerned; clients are leaving the offices; some fears are entertained of a mob; something you must

Aghast at this torrent, I fell back before it, and would fain have locked myself in my new quarters. In vain I

persisted that Bartleby was nothing to meno more than to any one else. In vain:I was the last person

known to have any thing to do with him, and they held me to the terrible account. Fearful then of being

exposed in the papers (as one person present obscurely threatened) I considered the matter, and at length said,

that if the lawyer would give me a confidential interview with the scrivener, in his (the lawyer's) own room, I

would that afternoon strive my best to rid them of the nuisance they complained of.

Going up stairs to my old haunt, there was Bartleby silently sitting upon the banister at the landing.

``Bartleby,'' said I, ``are you aware that you are the cause of great tribulation to me, by persisting in

``Now one of two things must take place. Either you must do something, or something must be done to you.

Now what sort of business would you like to engage in? Would you like to reengage in copying for some

``There is too much confinement about that. No, I would not like a clerkship; but I am not particular.''

``Too much confinement,'' I cried, ``why you keep yourself confined all the time!''

``I would prefer not to take a clerkship,'' he rejoined, as if to settle that little item at once.

``How would a bartender's business suit you? There is no trying of the eyesight in that.''

``Well then, would you like to travel through the country collecting bills for the merchants? That would

``How then would going as a companion to Europe, to entertain some young gentleman with your

``Not at all. It does not strike me that there is any thing definite about that. I like to be stationary. But I am

``Stationary you shall be then,'' I cried, now losing all patience, and for the first time in all my exasperating

connection with him fairly flying into a passion. ``If you do not go away from these premises before night, I

shall feel boundindeed I am boundtototo quit the premises myself!'' I rather absurdly concluded,

knowing not with what possible threat to try to frighten his immobility into compliance. Despairing of all

further efforts, I was precipitately leaving him, when a final thought occurred to meone which had not

``Bartleby,'' said I, in the kindest tone I could assume under such exciting circumstances, ``will you go home

with me nownot to my office, but my dwellingand remain there till we can conclude upon some

convenient arrangement for you at our leisure? Come, let us start now, right away.''

I answered nothing; but effectually dodging every one by the suddenness and rapidity of my flight, rushed

from the building, ran up Wallstreet towards Broadway, and jumping into the first omnibus was soon

removed from pursuit. As soon as tranquillity returned I distinctly perceived that I had now done all that I

possibly could, both in respect to the demands of the landlord and his tenants, and with regard to my own

desire and sense of duty, to benefit Bartleby, and shield him from rude persecution. I now strove to be

entirely carefree and quiescent; and my conscience justified me in the attempt; though indeed it was not so

successful as I could have wished. So fearful was I of being again hunted out by the incensed landlord and his

exasperated tenants, that, surrendering my business to Nippers, for a few days I drove about the upper part of

the town and through the suburbs, in my rockaway; crossed over to Jersey City and Hoboken, and paid

fugitive visits to Manhattanville and Astoria. In fact I almost lived in my rockaway for the time.

When again I entered my office, lo, a note from the landlord lay upon the desk. I opened it with trembling

hands. It informed me that the writer had sent to the police, and had Bartleby removed to the Tombs as a

vagrant. Moreover, since I knew more about him than any one else, he wished me to appear at that place, and

make a suitable statement of the facts. These tidings had a conflicting effect upon me. At first I was

indignant; but at last almost approved. The landlord's energetic, summary disposition had led him to adopt a

procedure which I do not think I would have decided upon myself; and yet as a last resort, under such

As I afterwards learned, the poor scrivener, when told that he must be conducted to the Tombs, offered not

Some of the compassionate and curious bystanders joined the party; and headed by one of the constables arm

in arm with Bartleby, the silent procession filed its way through all the noise, and heat, and joy of the roaring

The same day I received the note I went to the Tombs, or to speak more properly, the Halls of Justice.

Seeking the right officer, I stated the purpose of my call, and was informed that the individual I described was

indeed within. I then assured the functionary that Bartleby was a perfectly honest man, and greatly to be

compassionated, however unaccountably eccentric. I narrated all I knew, and closed by suggesting the idea of

letting him remain in as indulgent confinement as possible till something less harsh might be donethough

indeed I hardly knew what. At all events, if nothing else could be decided upon, the almshouse must receive

Being under no disgraceful charge, and quite serene and harmless in all his ways, they had permitted him

freely to wander about the prison, and especially in the inclosed grassplatted yards thereof. And so I found

him there, standing all alone in the quietest of the yards, his face towards a high wall, while all around, from

the narrow slits of the jail windows, I thought I saw peering out upon him the eyes of murderers and thieves.

``I know you,'' he said, without looking round,''and I want nothing to say to you.''

``It was not I that brought you here, Bartleby,'' said I, keenly pained at his implied suspicion. ``And to you,

this should not be so vile a place. Nothing reproachful attaches to you by being here. And see, it is not so sad

``I know where I am,'' he replied, but would say nothing more, and so I left him.

As I entered the corridor again, a broad meatlike man, in an apron, accosted me, and jerking his thumb over

``Does he want to starve? If he does, let him live on the prison fare, that's all.''

``Who are you?'' asked I, not knowing what to make of such an unofficially speaking person in such a place.

``I am the grubman. Such gentlemen as have friends here, hire me to provide them with something good to

``Well then,'' said I, slipping some silver into the grubman's hands (for so they called him). ``I want you to

give particular attention to my friend there; let him have the best dinner you can get. And you must be as

``Introduce me, will you?'' said the grubman, looking at me with an expression which seem to say he was all

Thinking it would prove of benefit to the scrivener, I acquiesced; and asking the grubman his name, went up

``Your sarvant, sir, your sarvant,'' said the grubman, making a low salutation behind his apron. ``Hope you

find it pleasant here, sir;spacious groundscool apartments, sirhope you'll stay with us some timetry

to make it agreeable. May Mrs. Cutlets and I have the pleasure of your company to dinner, sir, in Mrs.

``I prefer not to dine today,'' said Bartleby, turning away. ``It would disagree with me; I am unused to

dinners.'' So saying he slowly moved to the other side of the inclosure, and took up a position fronting the

``How's this?'' said the grubman, addressing me with a stare of astonishment. ``He's odd, aint he?''

``Deranged? deranged is it? Well now, upon my word, I thought that friend of yourn was a gentleman forger;

they are always pale and genteellike, them forgers. I can't help pity 'emcan't help it, sir. Did you know

Monroe Edwards?'' he added touchingly, and paused. Then, laying his hand pityingly on my shoulder, sighed,

``No, I was never socially acquainted with any forgers. But I cannot stop longer. Look to my friend yonder.

Some few days after this, I again obtained admission to the Tombs, and went through the corridors in quest of

``I saw him coming from his cell not long ago,'' said a turnkey, ``may be he's gone to loiter in the yards.''

``Are you looking for the silent man?'' said another turnkey passing me. ''Yonder he liessleeping in the

The yard was entirely quiet. It was not accessible to the common prisoners. The surrounding walls, of

amazing thickness, kept off all sounds behind them. The Egyptian character of the masonry weighed upon me

with its gloom. But a soft imprisoned turf grew under foot. The heart of the eternal pyramids, it seemed,

wherein, by some strange magic, through the clefts, grassseed, dropped by birds, had sprung.

Strangely huddled at the base of the wall, his knees drawn up, and lying on his side, his head touching the

cold stones, I saw the wasted Bartleby. But nothing stirred. I paused; then went close up to him; stooped over,

and saw that his dim eyes were open; otherwise he seemed profoundly sleeping. Something prompted me to

touch him. I felt his hand, when a tingling shiver ran up my arm and down my spine to my feet.

The round face of the grubman peered upon me now. ``His dinner is ready. Won't he dine today, either? Or

There would seem little need for proceeding further in this history. Imagination will readily supply the

meagre recital of poor Bartleby's interment. But ere parting with the reader, let me say, that if this little

narrative has sufficiently interested him, to awaken curiosity as to who Bartleby was, and what manner of life

he led prior to the present narrator's making his acquaintance, I can only reply, that in such curiosity I fully

share, but am wholly unable to gratify it. Yet here I hardly know whether I should divulge one little item of

rumor, which came to my ear a few months after the scrivener's decease. Upon what basis it rested, I could

never ascertain; and hence, how true it is I cannot now tell. But inasmuch as this vague report has not been

without a certain strange suggestive interest to me, however sad, it may prove the same with some others; and

so I will briefly mention it. The report was this: that Bartleby had been a subordinate clerk in the Dead Letter

Office at Washington, from which he had been suddenly removed by a change in the administration. When I

think over this rumor, I cannot adequately express the emotions which seize me. Dead letters! does it not

sound like dead men? Conceive a man by nature and misfortune prone to a pallid hopelessness, can any

business seem more fitted to heighten it than that of continually handling these dead letters and assorting

them for the flames? For by the cartload they are annually burned. Sometimes from out the folded paper the

pale clerk takes a ring:the finger it was meant for, perhaps, moulders in the grave; a banknote sent in

swiftest charity:he whom it would relieve, nor eats nor hungers any more; pardon for those who died

despairing; hope for those who died unhoping; good tidings for those who died stifled by unrelieved