ruths to, masculine words.
He protests against his condemnation by comparison.
Every writer's style is his own — it may be smooth or rough, plain or obscure, simple or grand, feeble or strong, he contends, but principles are immutable.
By his principles, therefore he would, be judged.
Whittier, for instance,, he continues,
is highly poetical, exuberant, and beautiful.
Stuart is solemn, pungent, and severe.
Wright is a thorough logician, dextrous, transparent, straightforward.
Beriah Green is manly, eloquent, vigorous, devotional.
May is persuasive, zealous, overflowing with the milk of human kindness.
Cox is diffusive, sanguine, magnificent, grand.
Bourne thunders and lightens.
Phelps is one great, clear, infallible argumentdemonstration itself.
Jocelyn is full of heavenlymindedness, and feels and speaks and acts with a zeal according to knowledge.
Follen is chaste, profound, and elaborately polished.
Goodell is perceptive, analytical, expert, and solid.