CHARLES LAMB THE SUPERANNUATED MAN PDF

Charles Lamb in “The Superannuated Man” has given an account of his feeling before and after his retirement. Lamb served as a clerk for long thirty-six years. Lamb in “The Superannuated Man” has given an account of his feeling before and after his retirement. Lamb served as a clerk for long thirty-six years and then . Posts about The Superannuated Man by Charles Lamb written by msatyaprakash .

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If peradventure, Reader, it has been thy lot to waste the golden years of thy life — thy shining youth — in auperannuated irksome confinement of an office; to have thy prison days prolonged through middle age down to decrepitude and silver hairs, without hope of release or respite; to have lived to forget that there are such things as holidays, or to remember them but as the prerogatives of childhood; then, and then only, will you lzmb able to appreciate my deliverance.

It is now six and thirty years since I took my seat at the desk in Mincing-lane. But time partially reconciles us to anything.

I gradually became content — doggedly contented, as wild animals in cages. It is true I had my Sundays to myself; but Sundays, admirable as the institution of them is for purposes of worship, are for that very reason the very worst adapted for days of skperannuated and recreation.

In charlee, there is a gloom for me attendant upon a city Sunday, a weight in the air. I miss the cheerful cries of London, the music, and the ballad-singers — the buzz and stirring murmur of the streets. Those eternal bells depress me.

The closed shops repel me. Prints, pictures, all the glittering and endless succession of knacks and gewgaws, and ostentatiously displayed wares of tradesmen, which make tne week-day saunter through the less busy parts of the metropolis so delightful — are shut out.

No suerannuated deliciously to idle over — No busy faces to recreate the idle man who contemplates them ever passing by — the very face of business a charm by contrast to his temporary relaxation from it.

The very strollers in the fields on that day look anything but comfortable. But besides Sundays I had a day at Easter, and a day at Christmas, with a full week in the summer to go and air myself in my native fields of Hertfordshire.

Chares last was a great indulgence; and the prospect of its recurrence, I believe, alone kept me up through the year, and made my durance tolerable. But when the week came round, did the glittering phantom of the distance keep touch with me?

Where was the quiet, where the promised rest? Before I had a taste of it, it was vanished. I was at the desk again, counting upon the fifty-one tedious weeks that must intervene before such another snatch would come.

Still the prospect of its coming threw something of an illumination upon the darker side charlws my captivity.

Without it, as I have said, I could scarcely have sustained my thraldom.

Elia and The Last Essays of Elia / Charles Lamb, by Charles Lamb

Independently of the rigours of attendance, I have ever been haunted with a sense perhaps a mere caprice of incapacity for business. This, during my latter years, had increased to such a degree, that it was visible in all the lines of my countenance. My health and my good spirits flagged. I had perpetually a dread of some crisis, to which I should be found lwmb. Besides my daylight llamb, I served over again all night in my sleep, and would awake with terrors of imaginary false entries, errors in my accounts, and the like.

I was fifty years of age, and no prospect of emancipation presented itself. I had grown to my desk, as it were; and the wood had entered into my superannutaed. My fellows in the office would sometimes rally me upon the trouble legible in my countenance; but I did not know that it had raised the suspicions of any of my employers, when, on the 5th of last month, a day ever to be remembered by me, L— — the junior partner in the firm, calling me on one side, directly taxed me with my bad looks, and frankly inquired the cause of them.

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So taxed, I honestly made confession of my infirmity, and added that I was afraid I should eventually be obliged to resign his service. He spoke some charlfs of course to hearten me, and there the matter rested. A whole week I remained labouring under the impression that I had acted imprudently in my disclosure; that I had foolishly given a handle against myself, and had been anticipating my own dismissal. I thought, now my time is surely come, I have done for myself, I am going to be told that they have no longer occasion for me.

L— — I could see, smiled at the terror I was in, which was a little relief to me — when to my utter astonishment B— — the eldest partner, began a formal harangue to me on the length of my services, my very meritorious conduct during the whole of the time the deuce, thought I, how did he find out that?

I protest I never had the confidence to think as much. He went on to descant on the expediency of retiring at a certain time of life how my heart panted!

Elia and The Last Essays of Elia / Charles Lamb, by Charles Lamb : THE SUPERANNUATED MAN

I do not know what I answered between supernnuated and gratitude, mn it was understood that I accepted their proposal, and I was told that I was free from that hour to leave their service. I stammered out a bow, and at just ten minutes after eight I chares home — for ever.

This noble benefit — gratitude forbids me to conceal their names — I owe to the kindness of the charlds munificent firm in the world — the house of Boldero, Merryweather, Bosanquet, and Lacy.

For the first day or mqn I felt stunned, overwhelmed. I could only apprehend my felicity; I was too confused to taste it sincerely. I wandered about, thinking I was happy, and knowing that I was not. I could scarce trust myself with myself. It was like passing out of Time into Eternity — for it is a sort of Eternity for a man to have his Time all to himself.

It seemed to me siperannuated I had more time on my hands than I could ever manage. From a poor man, poor in Time, I was suddenly lifted up into a vast revenue; I could see no end of my possessions; I wanted some steward, or judicious bailiff, to manage my estates in Time for me. And here let me caution persons grown old in active business, not lightly, nor without weighing their own resources, to forego their customary employment all at once, for there may be danger in it.

I feel it by myself, but I know that my resources are sufficient; and now that those first giddy raptures have subsided, I have a quiet home-feeling of the blessedness of my condition.

I am in no hurry.

Having all holidays, Chharles am as though I had none. If Time hung heavy upon me, I could walk it away; but I do not walk all day long, as I used to do in those old transient holidays, thirty miles a day, to make the most of them. If Time were troublesome, I could read it away, but I do not read in that violent measure, superannuatfd which, having no Time my own but candlelight Time, I used to weary out my head and eyesight in by-gone winters.

I walk, read or scribble as now just when the fit seizes me. I no longer hunt after pleasure; I let it come to me. I am like the man.

The superannuated man

He has already told us, he is past fifty. I have indeed lived nominally fifty years, but deduct out of them the hours which I have lived to other people, and not to myself, and you will find me still a young fellow. The remnant of my poor days, long or short, is at least multiplied for me three-fold.

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My ten next years, if I stretch so far, will be as long as any preceding thirty. Among the strange fantasies which beset me at the commencement of my freedom, and of which all traces are not yet gone, one was, that a vast tract of time had intervened since I quitted the Counting House. I could not conceive of it as an affair of yesterday.

The partners, and the clerks, with whom I had for so many years, and for so many hours in each day of the year, been closely associated — being suddenly removed from them — they seemed as dead to me.

To dissipate this awkward feeling, I have been fain to go among them once or twice since; to visit my old desk-fellows — my cobrethren of the quill — that I had left below in the state militant. Not all the kindness with which they received me could quite restore to me that pleasant familiarity, which I had heretofore enjoyed among them. We cracked some of our old jokes, but methought they went off but faintly.

My old desk; the peg where I hung my hat, were appropriated to another. I knew it must be, but I could not take it kindly. D——l take me, if I did not feel some remorse — beast, if I had not — at quitting my old compeers, the faithful partners of my toils for six and thirty years, that smoothed for me with their jokes and conundrums the ruggedness of my professional road.

Had it been so rugged then after all? Well, it is too late to repent; and I also know, that these suggestions are a common fallacy of the superannhated on such occasions. But my heart smote me.

I had violently broken the superannuatted betwixt us. It was at least not courteous. I shall be some time before I tue quite reconciled to the separation. Farewell, old cronies, yet not for long, for again and again I will come among ye, if I shall have your leave. Farewell Ch — — dry, sarcastic, and friendly! Do — — mild, slow to move, and gentlemanly! Pl — — officious to do, and to volunteer, good services! My mantle I bequeath among ye. A fortnight has passed since the date of my first communication.

At that period I was approaching to tranquillity, but had not reached it. I boasted of a calm indeed, but it was comparative only.

THE SUPERANNUATED MAN by CHARLES LAMBThe Feeling of Lamb Before and After His Retirement

Something of the first flutter was labm an unsettling sense of novelty; the dazzle to weak eyes superannuatef unaccustomed light. I missed my old chains, forsooth, as if they had been some necessary part lamg my apparel. I was a poor Carthusian, from strict cellular discipline suddenly by some revolution returned upon superannuzted world. I am now as if I had never been other than my own master. It is natural to me to go where I please, to do what I please.

I digress into Soho, to explore a book-stall. Methinks I have been thirty years a collector. There is nothing strange nor new in it. I find myself before a fine picture in a morning. Was it ever otherwise? What is become of Fish-street Hill? Stones of old Mincing-lane, which I have worn with my daily pilgrimage for six and thirty years, to the footsteps of what superqnnuated clerk are your everlasting flints now vocal?

I indent the gayer flags of Pall Mall. It is Change time, and I am strangely among the Elgin marbles.

It was no hyperbole when I ventured to compare the change in my condition to a passing into another world. Time stands still in a manner to me. I have lost all distinction of season. I do not know the day of the week, or of the month.

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