One

tury, there were only twò | great | creátive | minds. of these produced the "Paradise Lóst," the other | the "Pilgrim's Progress."

MACAULAY.

2. HYDER ALI.

[This extract must be read with strongly marked rising and falling inflections.]

Whilst the authors of all these evils were idly and stupidly gazing on this menacing méteor, which blackened all the horizon, it suddenly burst, and poured down the whole of its contents | upon the plains of the Carnàtic. Then ensued a scene of wóe, the like of which | no eye had seen, no heart | conceived, and which no tongue | can adequately tell. The miserable inhábitants, flying from their flaming villages, in part | were slàughtered; others, without regard to sex, to áge, to ránk, or sacredness of fúnction-fáthers | torn from children, húsbands | from wives-enveloped in a whirlwind of cavalry, and amidst the goading spears of drivers, and the trampling of pursuing horses, were swept into captivity, in an unknown and hóstile land. Those who were able to eváde this tempest, fled to the walled cities. But, escaping from fire, sword, and éxile, they fell into the jaws of fàmine.

For eighteen months, without intermission, this destruc-tion | raged from the gates of Madrás | to the gates of Tanjore; and so completely did these masters in their árt, Hyder Ali, and his more ferocious són, absolve themselves of their impious vów, that when the British ármies | traversed, as they did, the Carnátic | for hundreds of miles in all diréctions, through the whole line of their march they did not see óne | màn, not óne | woman, not óne | child, not òne | four-fóoted bèast | of any description | whatever. One dead | uniform | silence | reigned | ōver the whole region.

BURKE.

[This extract affords a good illustration of distinctive or unimpassioned circumflex.]

Tálent | is something, but táct | is every thing. Talent | is sèrious, sòber, gráve, and respèctable: tact | is all that, and more too. It is not a sixth sense, but it is the life of all the five. It is the open eye, the quick èar, the judging taste, the keen smell, and the lively tòuch; it is the intérpreter of all riddles, the surmounter of all difficulties, the remover of all obstacles. It is useful in all pláces, and at all times; it is useful in solitude, for it shows a man into the world; it is useful in society, for it shows him his way | through the world.

Tálent | is power, táct | is skîll; tálent | is weight, táct | is momentum; tálent | knows what to do, táct | knows how to do it; túlent | makes a man respectable, tăct | will make him respected; tálent is wealth, táct | is ready money. For all the practical purposes, táct | carries it against túlent | tén to one.

Take them to the theater, and put them against each other on the stage, and tálent | shall produce you a tragedy that shall scarcely live long enough to be condèmned, while tăct | keeps the house in a roar, night after night, with its successful fàrces. There is no want of dramatic talent, there is no want of dramatic tact; but they are seldom together: so we have successful pieces which are not respectable, and respectable pieces | which are not successful.

Take them to the bar, and let them shake their learned curls at each other in legal rivalry; tálent | sees its way clearly, but tăct | is first at its journey's end. Tálent | has many a compliment from the bénch, but tăct | touches fées. Tálent makes the world wonder that it gets on no făster, tăct | arouses astónishment | that it gets on so fast. And the sécret is, that it has no weight to carry; it makes no fálse stèps; it hits the right nail on the

head; it loses no time; it takes all hints; and by keeping its eye on the weather-cock, is ready to take advantage of every wind that blows.

Take them into the church: tálent | has always something worth hearing, táct | is sure of abundance of hearers; tálent | may obtain a living, tăct will make one; tálent | gets a good name, táct | a great one; tálent | convinces, táct | converts; tálent | is an honor to the proféssion, táct gains honor | from the profession.

Take them to court: tálent | feels its weight, táct | finds its way; tálent | commănds, táct | is obeyed; tálent | is honored with approbation, and táct | is blessed by preferment. Place them in the senate: tálent | has the ear of the house, but táct | wins its heart, and has its vôtes; tálent | is fit for employment, but táct | is fitted for it. It has a knack of slipping into place with a sweet silence and glibness of movement, as a billiard-ball insinuates itself into the pocket.

It seems to know every thing, without learning any thing. It has served an extemporary apprenticeship; it wants no drilling; it never ranks in the awkward squad; it has no left hand, no deaf ear, no blind side. It puts on no look of wondrous wisdom, it has no air of profundity, but plays with the details of place | as dexterously as a well-taught hand | flourishes over the keys of the piano-forte. It has all the air of commonplace, and all the force and power of genius.

London Atlas.

4. THE PURITANS.

[Marked for emphasis, inflection, and rhetorical pauses. Require the class to give the reasons for the marking. To be read with strongly marked emphasis and inflections.]

We would speak first of the Puritans, the most remarkable body of men, perhaps, which the world has ever produced. The ódious and ridiculous parts of their character | lie on the surface. He that runs | may rèad

them; nor have there been wanting | attentive and malicious obsèrvers | to point them out. For many years after the Restoration, they were the theme | of unmeasured invéctive and derision. They were exposed to the | utmost licentiousness of the préss | and of the stage, at the time when the press and the stage | were most licèntious. They were not men of létters; they wére | as a body unpopular; they could not defend themselves; and the públic | would not take them | under its protècI tion. They were therefore abandoned | without resèrve | to the tender mércies of the sátirists and dramatists. The ostentatious simplicity of their dress, their sour áspect, their nasal twáng, their stiff pósture, their long gráces, their Hebrew námes, the scriptural phrases which they introduced on every occasion, their contempt of human léarning, their detestation of polite amusements, were indeed fair gáme for the laughers. But it is not from the laughers alóne | that the philosophy of hìstory | is to be learned. And he who approaches this subject | should carefully guard against the influence | of that potent ridicule | which has already misled so many excellent writers.

Those who roused the people to resistance, who directed their measures through a long series of eventful years, who formed, out of the most unpromising matérials, the finest ármy that Europe had ever seen, who trampled down king, Church, and aristocracy, who, in the short intervals of domestic sedition and rebellion, made the name of England | terrible to every nation on the face of the earth, were no vúlgar fanàtics. Most of their absurdities | were mere external badges, like the signs of freemasonry, or the dresses of friars. We regrèt that these badges | were not more attractive. We regrèt | that a bódy | to whose courage and talents | mankind has owed inestimable obligátions | had not the lofty élegance which distinguished some of the adherents of

Charles I., or the easy good breeding | for which the court of Charles II. was celebrated. But, if we must make our choice, we shall, like Bassanio in the play, turn from the specious caskets, which contain only the death's head and the fool's head, and fix our choice | on the plain leaden chést | which conceals the trèasure.

The Púritans were men | whose minds | had derived a peculiar character | from the daily contemplation | of superior béings | and eternal interests. Not content | with acknowledging, in general terms, an overruling Próvidence, they habitually ascribed every event | to the will of the Great Béing, for whose power | nothing was too vást, for whose inspéction | nothing was too minùte. To knòw him, to sèrve him, to enjoy him, was with them | the great end of existence. They rejected with contempt the ceremonious homage | which other sects | substituted for the pure worship of the soul. Instead of catching occasional glimpses of the Deity | through an obscuring veil, they aspired to gaze full | on the intolerable brightness, and to commune with him | fáce to face. Hence originated | their contempt | for terréstrial distinctions.

The difference between the greatest and the meanest of mankind seemed to vanish, when compared with the boundless interval | which separated the whole race | from him on whom their own eyes | were constantly fixed. They recognized no title to superiority | but his fàvor; and, cónfident of that favor, they despised all the accómplishments | and all the dignities of the world. If they were unacquainted with the works of philosophers and póets, they were deeply réad | in the oracles of God. If their names were not found in the registers of heralds, they felt assured that they were recorded in the Book of Life. If their steps were not accompanied by a splendid train of ménials, legions of ministering àngels | had charge over them. Their pálaces | were houses