I never heard that my father took any notice of this; and, indeed, in the interior of his own family, he never attempted in the smallest degree to check his son in his mode of life, or in the expression of his opinions.
"I believe that breakfast was the pleasantest part of the day to my father.

His spirits were then at their best, and he was most disposed to general conversation.

He delighted in discussing the newspaper with his son, and lingered over the table long after the meal was finished.

On this account he felt it extremely when, in the year 1829, your uncle went to live in chambers, and often said to my mother that the change had taken the brightness out of his day.

Though your uncle generally dined with us, yet my father was tired by the evening, so that the breakfast hour was a grievous loss to him, as indeed it was to us all.
Truly he was to old and young alike the sunshine of our home; and I believe that no one, who did not know him there, ever knew him in his most brilliant, witty, and fertile vein." That home was never more cheerful than during the eight years which followed the close of Macaulay's college life.