ng man
had ever been led to suppose that his father was rich--rich beyond all
danger from loss--and that he himself would never have a concern beyond
amusing himself, and the cultivation of his intellect. And so in practical
affairs his education had been sadly neglected. But when the news of
calamity came, instead of being depressed, he was elated to think that now
he could make himself positively useful.

Responsibility gravitates to the man who can shoulder it. Strong men who
can wisely direct the efforts of others are always needed--they were
needed in Eighteen Hundred Twenty-two, when Tom Macaulay received word of
his father's trouble--they are needed today more than then--men who meet
calamity with a smile and are pleased at sight of obstacles, knowing they
can overcome them. Augustine Birrell has written, "Macaulay always went
his sublime way rejoicing like a strong man to run a race, knowing full
well that he could give anybody five yards in fifty and win easily."

Macaulay took up the burden that his father was not able to bear, mastered
every detail of the business, studied out the weak points, and then
explained to the creditors just what they had better do.

And they did it.

We always trust the man who has courage plus, enthusiasm to spare, and who
shows by his manner that he is master of the situation.

In a few years Macaulay saved from the wreck enough to secure his father,
mother and sisters against want for the rest of their days, and eventually
he paid every creditor in full with interest. Had he run away from the
difficulty, as his father was on the point of doing, the family would have
been turned homeless into the streets.

Moral--Things are never so bad as they seem; and all difficulties sneak
away when you look them squarely in the eye.

At this time the family, consisting of the father, mother, three sisters
and a brother, lived at Fifty Great Ormond Street, not far from the
British Museum. The house is still standing, but I recently discovered
that the occupants know nothing, and care less, about Thomas Macaulay.

Tom was the child of his mother. In temperament, disposition and physique
he was as much unlike his father as two men can well be. Old Zachary
Macaulay was a strong, earnest man who took himself seriously. In latter
years he grew morose, puritanic and was full of dread of the Unseen. He
preached long sermons to his family, cautioned them against frivolity,
forbade music, tabue