Humphrey Lloyd, now one of its members, and, as we have already seen,
one of Hamilton's staunchest friends, relieved him of all liability.
We may here note that, notwithstanding the pension which Hamilton
enjoyed in addition to the salary of his chair, he seems always to
have been in some what straitened circumstances, or, to use his own
words in one of his letters to De Morgan, "Though not an embarrassed
man, I am anything rather than a rich one." It appears that,
notwithstanding the world-wide fame of Hamilton's discoveries, the
only profit in a pecuniary sense that he ever obtained from any of
his works was by the sale of what he called his Icosian Game. Some
enterprising publisher, on the urgent representations of one of
Hamilton's friends in London, bought the copyright of the Icosian
Game for 25 pounds. Even this little speculation proved unfortunate
for the purchaser, as the public could not be induced to take the
necessary interest in the matter.

After the completion of his great book, Hamilton appeared for awhile
to permit himself a greater indulgence than usual in literary
relaxations. He had copious correspondence with his intimate friend,
Aubrey de Vere, and there were multitudes of letters from those
troops of friends whom it was Hamilton's privilege to possess. He
had been greatly affected by the death of his beloved sister Eliza, a
poetess of much taste and feeling. She left to him her many papers
to preserve or to destroy, but he said it was only after the
expiration of four years of mourning that he took courage to open her
pet box of letters.

The religious side of Hamilton's character is frequently illustrated
in these letters; especially is this brought out in the
correspondence with De Vere, who had seceded to the Church of Rome.