The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb — Volume 1: Miscellaneous ProseLamb, Charles
General
The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb — Volume 1: Miscellaneous Prose
Lamb, Charles
English literature
Here the melancholy truth became too apparent to be disguised. The
prying republic of which a great school consists, soon found me out:
there was no shifting the blame any longer upon other people's
shoulders,--no good-natured maid to take upon herself the enormities of
which I stood accused in the article of bread and butter, besides the
crying sin of stolen ends of puddings, and cold pies strangely missing.
The truth was but too manifest in my looks,--in the evident signs of
inanition which I exhibited after the fullest meals, in spite of the
double allowance which my master was privately instructed by my kind
parents to give me. The sense of the ridiculous, which is but too much
alive in grown persons, is tenfold more active and alert in boys. Once
detected, I was the constant butt of their arrows,--the mark against
which every puny leveller directed his little shaft of scorn. The very
Graduses and Thesauruses were raked for phrases to pelt me with by the
tiny pedants. Ventri natus,--Ventri deditus,--Vesana gula,--Escarum
gurges,--Dapibus indulgens,--Non dans frœna gulæ,--Sectans lautæ fercula
mensæ, resounded wheresoever I past. I lead a weary life, suffering the
penalties of guilt for that which was no crime, but only following the
blameless dictates of nature. The remembrance of those childish
reproaches haunts me yet oftentimes in my dreams. My school-days come
again, and the horror I used to feel, when in some silent corner retired
from the notice of my unfeeling playfellows, I have sat to mumble the
solitary slice of gingerbread allotted me by the bounty of considerate
friends, and have ached at heart because I could not spare a portion of
it, as I saw other boys do, to some favourite boy;--for if I know my own
heart, I was never selfish,--never possessed a luxury which I did not
hasten to communicate to others; but my food, alas! was none; it was an
indispensable necessary; I could as soon have spared the blood in my
veins, as have parted that with my companions.
Well, no one stage of suffering lasts for ever: we should grow
reconciled to it at length, I suppose, if it did. The miseries of my
school-days had their end; I was once more restored to the paternal
dwelling. The affectionate solicitude of my parents was directed to the
good-natured purpose of concealing even from myself the infirmity which
haunted me. I was continually told that I was growing, and the appetite
I displayed was humanely represented as being nothing more than a
symptom and an effect of that. I used even to be complimented upon it.
But this temporary fiction could not endure above a year or two. I
ceased to grow, but alas! I did not cease my demands for alimentary
sustenance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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