{"id":"01KG8AKT576K3F54553HXF9Z26","cid":"bafkreifnkgugxxrvdk25dkjenwczeda2x5ue4fim4srgz45ztpxmkevr2q","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":1424,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:15.023Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J1F4D8P9BBX9AMGZ7TX7","start_line":1343,"text":"of the human heart. It rather proceeds from a certain hopelessness of\r\nremedying excessive and organic ill. To a sensitive being, pity is not\r\nseldom pain. And when at last it is perceived that such pity cannot\r\nlead to effectual succor, common sense bids the soul be rid of it. What\r\nI saw that morning persuaded me that the scrivener was the victim of\r\ninnate and incurable disorder. I might give alms to his body; but his\r\nbody did not pain him; it was his soul that suffered, and his soul I\r\ncould not reach.\r\n\r\nI did not accomplish the purpose of going to Trinity Church that\r\nmorning. Somehow, the things I had seen disqualified me for the time\r\nfrom church-going. I walked homeward, thinking what I would do with\r\nBartleby. Finally, I resolved upon this—I would put certain calm\r\nquestions to him the next morning, touching his history, etc., and if\r\nhe declined to answer them openly and unreservedly (and I supposed he\r\nwould prefer not), then to give him a twenty dollar bill over and above\r\nwhatever I might owe him, and tell him his services were no longer\r\nrequired; but that if in any other way I could assist him, I would be\r\nhappy to do so, especially if he desired to return to his native place,\r\nwherever that might be, I would willingly help to defray the expenses.\r\nMoreover, if, after reaching home, he found himself at any time in want\r\nof aid, a letter from him would be sure of a reply.\r\n\r\nThe next morning came.\r\n\r\n“Bartleby,” said I, gently calling to him behind his screen.\r\n\r\nNo reply.\r\n\r\n“Bartleby,” said I, in a still gentler tone, “come here; I am not going\r\nto ask you to do anything you would prefer not to do—I simply wish to\r\nspeak to you.”\r\n\r\nUpon this he noiselessly slid into view.\r\n\r\n“Will you tell me, Bartleby, where you were born?”\r\n\r\n“I would prefer not to.”\r\n\r\n“Will you tell me _anything_ about yourself?”\r\n\r\n“I would prefer not to.”\r\n\r\n“But what reasonable objection can you have to speak to me? I feel\r\nfriendly towards you.”\r\n\r\nHe did not look at me while I spoke, but kept his glance fixed upon my\r\nbust of Cicero, which, as I then sat, was directly behind me, some six\r\ninches above my head.\r\n\r\n“What is your answer, Bartleby,” said I, after waiting a considerable\r\ntime for a reply, during which his countenance remained immovable, only\r\nthere was the faintest conceivable tremor of the white attenuated\r\nmouth.\r\n\r\n“At present I prefer to give no answer,” he said, and retired into his\r\nhermitage.\r\n\r\nIt was rather weak in me I confess, but his manner, on this occasion,\r\nnettled me. Not only did there seem to lurk in it a certain calm\r\ndisdain, but his perverseness seemed ungrateful, considering the\r\nundeniable good usage and indulgence he had received from me.\r\n\r\nAgain I sat ruminating what I should do. Mortified as I was at his\r\nbehavior, and resolved as I had been to dismiss him when I entered my\r\noffice, nevertheless I strangely felt something superstitious knocking\r\nat my heart, and forbidding me to carry out my purpose, and denouncing\r\nme for a villain if I dared to breathe one bitter word against this\r\nforlornest of mankind. At last, familiarly drawing my chair behind his\r\nscreen, I sat down and said: “Bartleby, never mind, then, about\r\nrevealing your history; but let me entreat you, as a friend, to comply\r\nas far as may be with the usages of this office. Say now, you will help\r\nto examine papers to-morrow or next day: in short, say now, that in a\r\nday or two you will begin to be a little reasonable:—say so, Bartleby.”\r\n\r\n“At present I would prefer not to be a little reasonable,” was his\r\nmildly cadaverous reply.\r\n\r\nJust then the folding-doors opened, and Nippers approached. He seemed\r\nsuffering from an unusually bad night’s rest, induced by severer\r\nindigestion than common. He overheard those final words of Bartleby.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AK413B1B5DE657R62VJZ2","peer_type":"section","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1F4D8P9BBX9AMGZ7TX7","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKT5CM5DJ8PC1Z4N7R40E","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:16.551Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:23.543Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}