Saul: with his own homely sling and the polished stone from the
brook, the weapon to which he was accustomed, he achieved
victory.

I knew a priest who had a marvellous charm as a storyteller. He
invested the merest trifles of incident with resistless
fascination. Hours in his society flew like moments.

He became a distinguished preacher. I went to hear him, and
quickly discovered the secret of his success. He knew his strong
point, and staked his all on it. He preached his sermons as he
told his stories--in graphic, familiar narrative. The
congregation felt they were taken into his confidence; they were
hypnotised. You forgot that you were sitting in stiff dignity in
a church, and imagined yourself one of a group around the
winter's log listening to a delightful _raconteur_, and you
willingly surrendered to the pleasing delusion.

Every play of fancy, every flash of thought, every clinched
conviction passed from him to his hearers till the souls of
preacher and listeners became like reflecting mirrors. There was
always regret when he finished.

Now, had that man attempted to become Demosthenes instead of
himself he would have succeeded in becoming ridiculous.

[Side note: 2.--Be natural in composition]

The natural outpouring of thought has a relish and a
resistlessness of force that no art can rival. The scent of a