A word is lengthened when its own vowel is exchanged
for a longer one, or when a syllable is inserted.
A word is contracted when some part of it is removed.
Instances of lengthening are,—{pi omicron
lambda eta omicron sigma} for {pi omicron lambda epsilon
omega sigma}, and {Pi eta lambda eta iota alpha delta
epsilon omega} for {Pi eta lambda epsilon iota delta
omicron upsilon}: of contraction,—{kappa
rho iota}, {delta omega}, and {omicron psi}, as in
{mu iota alpha / gamma iota nu epsilon tau alpha iota
/ alpha mu phi omicron tau episilon rho omega nu /
omicron psi}.
An altered word is one in which part of the ordinary
form is left unchanged, and part is re-cast; as in
{delta epsilon xi iota-tau epsilon rho omicron nu
/ kappa alpha tau alpha / mu alpha zeta omicron nu},
{delta epsilon xi iota tau epsilon rho omicron nu}
is for {delta epsilon xi iota omicron nu}.
[Nouns in themselves are either masculine, feminine,
or neuter. Masculine are such as end in {nu},
{rho}, {sigma}, or in some letter compounded with
{sigma},—these being two, and {xi}.
Feminine, such as end in vowels that are always long,
namely {eta} and {omega}, and—of vowels
that admit of lengthening—those in {alpha}.
Thus the number of letters in which nouns masculine
and feminine end is the same; for {psi} and {xi} are
equivalent to endings in {sigma}. No noun ends
in a mute or a vowel short by nature. Three only
end in {iota},—{mu eta lambda iota}, {kappa
omicron mu mu iota}, {pi epsilon pi epsilon rho iota}:
five end in {upsilon}. Neuter nouns end in these
two latter vowels; also in {nu} and {sigma}.]
The perfection of style is to be clear without being
mean. The clearest style is that which uses only
current or proper words; at the same time it is mean:—witness
the poetry of Cleophon and of Sthenelus. That
diction, on the other hand, is lofty and raised above
the commonplace which employs unusual words.
By unusual, I mean strange (or rare) words, metaphorical,
lengthened,—anything, in short, that differs
from the normal idiom. Yet a style wholly composed
of such words is either a riddle or a jargon; a riddle,
if it consists of metaphors; a jargon, if it consists
of strange (or rare) words. For the essence of
a riddle is to express true facts under impossible
combinations. Now this cannot be done by any
arrangement of ordinary words, but by the use of metaphor
it can. Such is the riddle:—’A
man I saw who on another man had glued the bronze
by aid of fire,’ and others of the same kind.
A diction that is made up of strange (or rare) terms
is a jargon. A certain infusion, therefore, of
these elements is necessary to style; for the strange
(or rare) word, the metaphorical, the ornamental,
and the other kinds above mentioned, will raise it
above the commonplace and mean, while the use of proper
words will make it perspicuous. But nothing contributes
more to produce a clearness of diction that is remote
