This is illustrated by the Black Hole of Calcutta incident from Macaulay’s essay on Lord Clive. Even a careless student must note the rapidity of movement, the brevity of many of the sentences, the quick succession of clauses as the action mounts. Another excellent example of this characteristic is the description of the buffalo hunt in Parkman’s chapter on Indian Conquerors. 3. An appreciation of the value of pictorial and suggestive words. Although all the selections given illustrate this quality, none, perhaps, is so helpful in this respect as the first. A single sentence, picked almost at random from Chapter III of Macaulay’s _History of England_, illustrates perfectly the possible forcefulness of historical narrative as over against the bare statement of bare fact. In a description of the English navy in 1685, Macaulay is contrasting the life of the officers with that of the common sailors. He says: They dressed as if for a gala at Versailles, ate off plate, drank the richest wines, and kept harems on board, while hunger and scurvy raged among the crews, and while corpses were daily flung out of the port-holes. And yet there are those who will contend that he might as well have said: They lived royally, while many of the sailors sickened and died. M. E. C. THE BLACK HOLE OF CALCUTTA THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY The great province of Bengal, together with Orissa and Bahar, had long been governed by a viceroy, whom the English called Aliverdy Khan, and who, like the other viceroys of the Mogul, had become virtually independent. He died in 1756, and the sovereignty descended to his grandson, a youth under twenty years of age, who bore the name of Surajah Dowlah. Oriental despots are perhaps the worst class of human beings; and this unhappy boy was one of the worst specimens of his class. His understanding was naturally feeble, and his temper naturally unamiable. His education had been such as would have enervated even a vigorous intellect, and perverted even a generous disposition. He was unreasonable, because nobody ever dared to reason with him, and selfish, because he had never been made to feel himself dependent on the goodwill of others. Early debauchery had unnerved his body and his mind. He indulged immoderately in the use of ardent spirits, which inflamed his weak brain almost to madness. His chosen companions were flatterers sprung from the dregs of the people, and recommended by nothing but buffoonery and servility. It is said that he had arrived at the last stage of human depravity, when cruelty becomes pleasing for its own sake, when the sight of pain as pain, where no advantage is to be gained, no offence punished, no danger averted, is an agreeable excitement. It had early been his amusement to torture beasts and birds; and, when he grew up, he enjoyed with