the leg of his easel with a blue ribbon. If ever a writing man had success
tied to the leg of his easy chair, that man was Macaulay. In the
characters and careers of Rubens and Macaulay there is a marked
resemblance.

When Macaulay was twenty-two he was at Cambridge, and the tidings arrived
that a dire financial storm had wrecked the family fortune. The young 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