of a second impression.
The unduly severe fate of those who crossed his path during the years
when his blood was hot teaches a serious lesson on the responsibilities
of genius. Croker, and Sadler, and poor Robert Montgomery, and the other
less eminent objects of his wrath, appear likely to enjoy just so much
notoriety, and of such a nature, as he has thought fit to deal out to
them in his pages; and it is possible that even Lord Ellenborough may be
better known to our grand-children by Macaulay's oration on the gates
of Somnauth than by the noise of his own deeds, or the echo of his own
eloquence.

When Macaulay went to college he was justified in regarding himself as
one who would not have to work for his bread. His father, who believed
himself to be already worth a hundred thousand pounds, had statedly
declared to the young man his intention of making him, in a modest
way, an eldest son; and had informed him that, by doing his duty at the
university, he would earn the privilege of shaping his career at choice.
In 1818 the family removed to London, and set up an establishment on a
scale suited to their improved circumstances in Cadogan Place, which, in
everything except proximity to Bond Street, was then hardly less rural
than Clapham. But the prosperity of the house of Macaulay and Babington
was short-lived. The senior member of the firm gave his whole heart, and
five-sixths of his time, to objects unconnected with his business; and
he had selected a partner who did not possess the qualities necessary
to compensate for his own deficiencies. In 1819 the first indications
of possible disaster begin to show themselves in the letters to and from
Cambridge; while waiting for a fellowship Macaulay was glad to make
a hundred guineas by taking pupils; and, as time went on, it became
evident that he was to be an eldest son only in the sense that,
throughout the coming years of difficulty and distress, his brothers and
sisters would depend mainly upon him for comfort, guidance, and support.
He acknowledged the claim cheerfully, lovingly, and, indeed, almost
unconsciously. It was not in his disposition to murmur over what was
inevitable, or to plume himself upon doing what was right. He quietly
took up the burden which his father was unable to bear; and, before many
years had elapsed, the fortunes of all for whose welfare he considered
himself responsible were abundantly assured. In the course of the
efforts which he expended o