In the latter days of his father's life, Charles must have had an
uncomfortable home. "I go home at night overwearied, quite faint, and then
to cards with my father, who will not let me enjoy a meal in peace. After
repeated games at cribbage" (he is writing to Coleridge), "I have got my
father's leave to write; with difficulty got it: for when I expostulated
about playing any more, he replied, 'If you won't play with me, you might
as well not come home at all.' The argument was unanswerable, and I set to
afresh."

Soon after this, the father, who at last had become entirely imbecile,
died; and the pension which he had received from Mr. Salt, the old
bencher, ceased. The aunt, who had been taken for a short time to the
house of a rich relation, but had been sent back, also died in the
following month. "My poor old aunt" (Chailes writes), "who was the kindest
creature to me when I was at school, and used to bring me good things;
when I, schoolboy-like, used to be ashamed to see her come, and open her
apron, and bring out her basin with some nice thing which she had saved
for me; the good old creature is now lying on her death-bed. She says,
poor thing, she is glad she has come home to die with me. I was always her
favorite." Thus Charles was left to his own poor resources (scarcely, if
at all, exceeding one hundred pounds a year); and these remained very
small for some considerable time. His writings were not calculated to
attract immediate popularity, and the increase of his salary at the India
House was slow. Even in 1809 (November), almost fifteen years later, the
addition of twenty pounds a year, which comes to him on the resignation of
a clerk in the India House, is very important, and is the subject of a
joyful remark by his sister Mary.

The impression made, in the first instance, on Charles Lamb, by the