BARTLEBY, THE SCRIVENER. A STORY OF WALL-STREET. 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 law-copyists or scriveners. I have known very many of them, professionally and... more...

CHAPTER I Foot In Stirrup We are off! The courses and topsails are set: the coral-hung anchor swings from the bow: and together, the three royals are given to the breeze, that follows us out to sea like the baying of a hound. Out spreads the canvas—alow, aloft-boom-stretched, on both sides, with many a stun' sail; till like a hawk, with pinions poised, we shadow the sea with our sails, and... more...

Misgivings. (1860.)  When ocean-clouds over inland hills    Sweep storming in late autumn brown,  And horror the sodden valley fills,    And the spire falls crashing in the town,  I muse upon my country's ills—  The tempest bursting from the waste of TimeOn the world's fairest hope linked with man's foulest crime.  Nature's dark side is heeded now—    (Ah!... more...