The Life Of Walden Pond, By F. Scott Thoreau Essay

Shortly after my stay on the shore of Walden Pond, I returned to civilization and took a job as a scrivener to assimilate myself back into society, a much more difficult task than it would seem, and because I needed money for food, shelter, clothing, and fuel, which are necessities for pondering the true meaning of life (Thoreau, 986). I was not particularly happy about taking the job, but I had few choices in the city. In my short time there I encountered the most silently desperate man (Thoreau, 984) I have ever encountered. His name was Bartleby, and my brief encounter with him caused me to solidify my beliefs on philanthropy, deliberate living, and progress, while teaching me to appreciate the humanity in every person. On my first day of work, my boss led me to the section of the office in which I would be working. â€Å"Our old scrivener prefers not to work right now† he said, passive-aggressively gesturing to Bartleby â€Å"and that is why we’ve hired you to re place him.† I looked over at the motionless man, but he gave no acknowledgement to either of us. Instead, he stared out the window, which looked directly out onto a brick wall. The boss left abruptly and I began to get settled in the office and eventually I decided to engage the man by the window. â€Å"So if you’re not working, what do you do here, Bartleby?† I asked the motionless man. To this question, however, he offered no acknowledgement or response, he simply stared out the window onto the wall. I was interested in