As illustrations of Sequence in composition, two passages may be quoted from Macaulay which display the power of pictorial suggestions when, instead of diverting attention from the main purpose, they are arranged with progressive and culminating effect.

“Such, or nearly such, was the change which passed on the Mogul empire during the forty years which followed the death of Aurungzebe.  A series of nominal sovereigns, sunk in indolence and debauchery, sauntered away life in secluded palaces, chewing bang, fondling dancing girls, and listening to buffoons.  A series of ferocious invaders had descended through the western passes to prey on the defenceless wealth of Hindostan.  A Persian conqueror crossed the Indus, marched through the gates of Delhi, and bore away in triumph those treasures of which the magnificence had astounded Roe and Bernier;—­the peacock throne, on which the richest jewels of Golconda had been disposed by the most skilful hands of Europe, and the inestimable Mountain of Light, which, after many strange vicissitudes, lately shone in the bracelet of Runjeet Sing, and is now destined to adorn the hideous idol of Prista.  The Afghan soon followed to complete the work of devastation which the Persian had begun.  The warlike tribe of Rajpoots threw off the Mussulman yoke.  A band of’mercenary soldiers occupied the Rohilcund.  The Seiks ruled on the Indus.  The Jauts spread terror along the Jumnah.  The high lands which border on the western sea-coast of India poured forth a yet more formidable race—­a race which was long the terror of every native power, and which yielded only after many desperate and doubtful struggles to the fortune and genius of England.  It was under the reign of Aurungzebe that this wild clan of plunderers first descended from the mountains; and soon after his death every corner of his wide empire learned to tremble at the mighty name of the Mahrattas.  Many fertile viceroyalties were entirely subdued by them.  Their dominions stretched across the peninsula from sea to sea.  Their captains reigned at Poonah, at Gualior, in Guzerat, in Berar, and in Tanjore.”

Such prose as this affects us like poetry.  The pictures and suggestions might possibly have been gathered together by any other historian; but the artful succession, the perfect sequence, could only have been found by a fine writer.  I pass over a few paragraphs, and pause at this second example of a sentence simple in structure, though complex in its elements, fed but not overfed with material, and almost perfect in its cadence and logical connection.  “Scarcely any man, however sagacious, would have thought it possible that a trading company, separated from India by fifteen thousand miles of sea, and possessing in India only a few acres for purposes of commerce, would in less than a hundred years spread its empire from Cape Comorin to the eternal snows of the Himalayas—­would compel Mahratta and Mahomedan to forget their mutual feuds in common subjection—­would tame down even those wild races which had resisted the most powerful of the Moguls; and having established a government far stronger than any ever known in those countries, would carry its victorious arms far to the east of the Burrampooter, and far to the west of the Hydaspes—­dictate terms of peace at the gates of Ava, and seat its vassals on the throne of Candahar.”