At this time, reckoning up their several means of living, Charles Lamb and
his father had together an income of one hundred and seventy or one
hundred and eighty pounds; out of which, he says, "we can spare fifty or
sixty pounds at least for Mary whilst she stays in an asylum. If I and my
father and an old maid-servant can't live, and live comfortably, on one
hundred and thirty or one hundred and twenty pounds a year, we ought to
burn by slow fires. I almost would, so that Mary might not go into a
hospital." She was then recovering her health; had become serene and
cheerful; and Charles was passionately desirous that, after a short
residence in the lunatic establishment wherein she then was, she should
return home: "But the surviving members of her family" (these are Sir
Thomas Talfourd's words), "especially John, who enjoyed a fair income from
the South Sea House, opposed her discharge." Charles, however, ultimately
succeeded in his pious desire, upon entering into a solemn undertaking to
take care of his sister thereafter.

He provided a lodging for her at Hackney, and spent all his Sundays and
holidays with her. I never heard of John Lamb having contributed anything,
in money or otherwise, cowards the support of his deranged sister, or to
assist his young struggling brother.

Soon after this time Charles took his sister Mary to live with himself
entirely. Whenever the approach of one of her fits of insanity was
announced by some irritability or change of manner, he would take her,
under his arm, to Hoxton Asylum. It was very afflicting to encounter the
young brother and his sister walking together (weeping together) on this
painful errand; Mary herself, although sad, very conscious of the
necessity for temporary separation from her only friend. They used to
carry a strait jacket with them.