It is not till we analyse a passage or try to imitate the style that we realize how great a part has been played by art in this structure which seems so natural. The smoothness strikes us, after a time, as monotonous, and many readers will turn with relief from Lysias’ polish to the more telling ruggedness of Antiphon, or the varied magnificence of Plato. Lysias, in fact, provides us with an excellent example of the purest prose, but the comparative coarseness of the average taste prefers something less refined, less carefully purged of the natural impurities which prevent insipidity, less free from the colouring matter which gives character. So far I have considered only the broad impression produced by the language, apart from more personal elements in style. As an orator, Lysias is, on first acquaintance, disappointing. He seems to lack fire, and to subordinate vigour to precision. For this apparent weakness we must make certain allowances. We must remember that he has to be judged chiefly by speeches written for others, and speeches dealing with cases which in their very nature are often unimportant, and in their details have little interest. It would be unreasonable to ask for any other qualities than clear statement of fact in a speech for the prosecution relating to embezzlement by a trustee for a will (_Against Diogiton_), or in the indictment of Nicomachus, a magistrate who has not rendered his accounts in due course. Such speeches are of considerable importance indirectly: to the jurist, as bearing upon the peculiarities of Attic Law; to the general reader, because they help to fill in details of the picture of public and private life at Athens. We should not pass a hasty judgment on the writer because, considered as examples of oratory, they are less attractive and impressive than some of the more famous models. I will reserve for future consideration the only speech in which the personal feelings of Lysias are deeply involved—the accusation of Eratosthenes. Of the other speeches there is none which, taken as a whole, is comparable to the finest of the public speeches or the harangues of Demosthenes. Though Lysias had often to deal with trials of public men, these trials were never really of public importance. It was not his business to lay down a definite line of policy for his city to follow; it was not for him to awake an apathetic nation to the need of instant and decisive action. We cannot believe that any of his speeches would appeal, or were meant to appeal, to Athens as a whole.