Lysias had given to a certain accused criminal an oration of his own writing. He, having read it several times over, came to Lysias very much dejected, and told him that, upon his first perusal of it, it seemed to him to be a most admirable piece; but after he had read it three or four times over, he could see nothing in it but what was very dull and insipid. To whom Lysias, smiling: What, said he, is not once enough to speak it before the judges? And yet do but consider the persuasive eloquence and grace that is in Lysias’s writing, and then I may be bold to affirm, That no man living e’er was favored more By sacred Muse that violet garlands wore. Certain it is that, of all the commendations that were ever given to Homer, this is the truest, that he alone avoided being irksome to his readers, as one that was always new and still flourishing, as it were in the prime of poetic beauty. And yet in speaking thus of himself, I hate vain repetitions, fondly made, Of what has been already plainly said, he shows how careful he is to shun that satiety which, as it were, lies in wait for all speech, alluring the ear from one relation into another, and still recreating the reader with fresh variety, in such a manner that he never thinks himself satisfied. Whereas men that let their tongues run at random rend and tear the ears with their tautologies, like those that, after writing-tables have been newly cleansed and wiped, deface them again with their impertinent scrawls and scratches.