39.  Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto
    thee?

    40.  And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say
    unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of
    these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.

    41.  Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart
    from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the
    devil and his angels: 

    42.  For I was an hungered, and ye gave me no meat:  I was
    thirsty, and ye gave me no drink: 

    43. I was a stranger, and ye took me not in:  naked, and ye
    clothed me not:  sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not.

    44.  Then shall they also answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we
    thee an hungered, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or
    sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee?

    45. Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily I say unto you,
    Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye
    did it not to me.

Observe the exact repetition of entire sentences. Consider Antony’s funeral oration over the dead body of Caesar, and note the same mastery of the art of repetition.

But, like all powerful weapons, it is dangerous to one who is not a natural speaker.  It might easily be fatal, for remember that we are advised to “use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do, for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking.”

Do not be epigrammatic.  Never “coin a phrase.”  Never make a sentence for the purpose of having the newspaper quote it next day.  Usually such sentences are not quoted.  Even if they are, these artificial arrangements of words never live.  The reason is that they are artificial—­they do not have the vitality of sincerity.  Let your striking expressions come naturally as the climax and flowering of your thought.  Then they will live.  They will live because they will be truthful—­natural.  Nothing but the sincere endures.

In political speaking, seldom be harsh, seldom denounce, seldom “pour hot shot into the enemy” as our newspaper head-liners put it.  Men in other parties are not your enemies or the country’s—­they are fellow Americans to whom you are trying to show the truth as you see it.  I like to believe that all Americans are patriots, inspired by sincere concern for the common good and the welfare of the Republic.

There is nothing in denunciation—­nothing in abuse—­nothing but bad taste.  “There is no particular argument in slander,” exclaimed Ingersoll in one of our fervid campaigns.  The man who “pours hot shot into the enemy” is using an obsolete method.  Don’t you use it, young man. You be reasonable, considerate, earnest only to show your hearer that you are in the right.  This rule is unvarying except, of course, when great crises occur, when treason is afoot, the Nation’s honor in danger, and the like.  But such seasons of peril are rare.