I would suggest that the ripe scholar, who says ave without the aspirate and with a long e (for it comes from avēre and uses calefacere and conservavisse in preference to the usual forms, For havĕ, calfacere, conservasse. should also add face, dice and the like to his vocabulary.

His way is the right way. Who doubts it? But there is an easier and more frequented path close by. There is, however, nothing which annoys me more than their habit not merely of inferring the nominative from the oblique cases, but of actually altering it. For instance in ebur and robur, the forms regularly used both in writing and speech by the best authors, these gentlemen change their second syllable to o, because their genitives are roboris and eboris, and because sulpur and guttur keep the u in the genitive. So too femur and iecur give rise to similar controversy.

Their proceedings are just as arbitrary as if they were to substitute an o in the genitives of sulpur and guttur on the analogy of eboris and roboris. Thus Antonius Gnipho while admitting robur, ebur and even marmur to be correct, would have their plurals to be ebura, robura and marnura.

If they would only pay attention to the affinities existing between letters, they would realize that robur makes its genitive roboris in precisely the same way that limes, miles, iudex and uindex make their genitives militis, limitis, iudicis and uindicis, not to mention other words to which I have already referred.

Do not nouns which are similar in the nominative show, as I have already observed, quite different terminations in the oblique eases? Compare uirgo and Iuno, lusus and fusus, caspis and puppis and a thousand others. Again some nouns are not used in the plural, while others are not used in the singular, some are indeclinable, while others, like Jupiter, in the oblique cases entirely abandon the form of the nominative.

The same is true of verbs: for instance fero disappears in the perfect and subsequent tenses. Nor does it matter greatly whether such forms are nonexistent or too harsh to use. For what is the genitive singular of progenies or the genitive plural of spes? Or how will quire and ruere form a perfect passive or passive participles.

Why should I mention other words when it is even doubtful whether the genitive of senatus is senati or senatus? In view of what I have said, it seems to me that the remark, that it is one thing to speak Latin and another to speak grammar, was far from unhappy. So much for analogy, of which I have said more than enough.

Etymology inquires into the origin of words, and was called notation by Cicero, Top. viii. 35. on the ground that the term used by Aristotle περὶ ἑρμ. 2. is σύμβολον, which may be translated by nota. A literal rendering of ἐτυμολογία would be ueriloquium, a form which even Cicero, its inventor, shrinks from using. Some again, with an eye to the meaning of the word, call it origination. Etymology is sometimes of the utmost use, whenever the word under discussion needs interpretation.

For instance Marcus Caelius wishes to prove that he is homo frugi, not because he is abstemious (for he could not even pretend to be that), but because he is useful to many, that is fructuosus, from which frugalitas is derived. Consequently we find room for etymology when we are concerned with definitions.

Sometimes again this science attempts to distinguish between correct forms and barbarisms, as for instance when we are discussing whether we should call Sicily Triquetra or Triquedra, or say meridies or medidies, not to mention other words which depend on current usage.

Such a science demands profound erudition, whether we are dealing with the large number of words which are derived from the Greek, more especially those inflected according to the practice of the Aeolic dialect, the form of Greek which most nearly resembles Latin; or are using ancient historians as a basis for inquiry into the origin of names of men, places, nations and cities. For instance what is the origin of names such as Brutus, Publicola, or Pythicus? Why do we speak of Latium, Italia or Beneventum? What is the reason for employing such names as Capitolium, collis Quirinalis or Argietum? For derivations see Index of Names at end.

I now turn to minor points concerning which enthusiasts for etymology give themselves an infinity of trouble, restoring to their true form words which have become slightly altered: the methods which they employ are varied and manifold: they shorten them or lengthen them, add, remove, or interchange letters and syllables as the case may be. As a result perverseness of judgment leads to the most hideous absurdities. I am ready to admit that consul may be derived from consulere in the sense of consulting or judging; for the ancients used consulere in the latter sense, and it still survives in the phrase rogat boni consulas, that is bonum iudices, judge fit.

Again senatus may well be derived from old age (for the senators are called the fathers ): I concur in the derivations assigned to rex rector to say nothing of many other words where there can be no doubt, and do not refuse to accept those suggested for tegula, regula and the like: let classis be from calare (call out, summon), lepus be a contraction of levipes and vulpes of volipes.

But are we also to admit the derivation of certain words from their opposites, and accept lucus a non lucendo, since a grove is dark with shade, ludus in the sense of school as being so called because it is quite the reverse of play and Dis, Ditis from diues, because Pluto is far from being rich? Are we to assent to the view that homo is derived from humus, because man sprang from the earth, as though all other living things had not the same origin or as if primitive man gave the earth a name before giving one to himself? Or again can verbum be derived from aer verheratus, beaten air ?

Let us go a little further and we shall find that stella is believed to be still luminis a drop of light, a derivation whose author is so famous in literature that it would be unkind to mention his name in connexion with a point where he comes in for censure.

But those who collected such derivations in book form, put their names on the title page; and Gavius thought himself a perfect genius when he identified caelibes, bachelors, with caelites, gods, on the ground that they are free from a heavy load of care, and supported this opinion by a Greek analogy: for he asserted that ἠΐθεοι young men, had a precisely similar origin. Modestus is not his inferior in inventive power: for he asserts that caelibes, that is to say unmarried men, are so called because Saturn cut off the genital organs of Caelus. Aelius asserts that pituita, phlegm, is so called quia petat uitam, because it attacks life.

But we may pardon anyone after the example set by Varro. de Lingua Lat. v. 34 and 76. For he tried to persuade Cicero, to whom he dedicated his work, that a field was called eager because something is done in it ( agitur ), and jackdaws graculos because they fly in flocks (gregatim ), in spite of the obvious fact that the first word is derived from the Greek, the latter from the cry of the bird in question.

But Varro had such a passion for derivations that he derived the name merula a blackbird from mera uolans on the ground that it flies alone! Some scholars do not hesitate to have recourse to etymology for the origin of every word, deriving names such as Rufus or Longus from the appearance of their possessor, verbs such as strepere or murmurare from the sounds which they represent, and even extending this practice to certain derivatives, making uelox for instance find its origin in uelocitas, The above makes Quintilian derive velox from velocitas, as Varro ( L.L. viii. 15) derives prudens from prudentia. Those who regard this as incredible must with Colson transpose ut. . . velox to follow Rufos making Velox a cognomen, or with Meister read velo for velocitate, or velo citato (Colson). as well as to compounds and the like: now although such words doubtless have an origin, no special science is required to detect it, since it is only doubtful cases that demand the intervention of the etymologist.

Archaic words not only enjoy the patronage of distinguished authors, but also give style a certain majesty and charm. For they have the authority of age behind them, and for the very reason that they have fallen into desuetude, produce an attractive effect not unlike that of novelty.

But such words must be used sparingly and must not thrust themselves upon our notice, since there is nothing more tiresome than affectation, nor above all must they be drawn from remote and forgotten ages: I refer to words such as topper, quite, antegerio, exceedingly, exanclare, to exhaust, prosapia, a race and the language of the Salian Hymns now scarcely understood by its own priests.