f style.

Hence I say style, as the expression of thought, will depend entirely
on what there is within to be expressed, on the character of the
writer's mind and heart. We all allow this implicitly in the
epithets which we apply to different styles. We talk of a vigorous,
a soft, a weak, a frigid, an obscure style, not meaning that the
words and sentences in themselves are vigorous, soft, weak, or even
obscure (for the words and their arrangement may be simple enough all
the while). No, you speak of the quality of the thoughts conveyed in
the words; that a style is powerful, because the writer is feeling
and thinking strongly and clearly; weak or frigid, because his
feelings on the subject have been weak or cold; obscure to you,
because his thoughts have been obscure to himself--because, in short,
he has not clearly imagined to himself the notion which he wishes to
embody. The meaning of the very words "expression" and "composition"
prove the truth of my assertion. Expression is literally the
pressing out into palpable form that which is already within us, and
composition, in the same way, is the composing or putting together of
materials already existing--the form and method of the composition
depend mainly on the form and quality of the materials. You cannot
compose a rope of sand, or a round globe of square stones--and my
friend Mr. Strettell will tell you, in his lectures on grammar, that
words are just as stubborn and intractable materials as sand or
stone, and that we cannot alter their meaning or value a single
shade, for they derive that meaning from a higher fountain than the
soul of man, from the Word of God, the fount of utterance, who
inspires all true and noble thought and speech--who vindicated
language as His own gift, and man's invention, in that miracle of the
day of Pentecost. And I am bound to follow up Mr. Strettell's
teaching by telling you that what holds true of words, and of their
grammatic and logical composition, holds true also of their aesthetic
and artistic composition, of style, of rhythm, of poetry, and
oratory. Every principle of these which is true and good, that is,
which produces beauty, is to be taken as an inspiration from above,
as depending not on the will of man but of God; not on any abstract
rules, of pedant's invention, but on the eternal necessities and
harmony, on the being of God Himself.

These may seem lofty words, but I do not think they are likely to
make us