elephant-<\/strong><\/td>\r\n| elephantinus<\/b><\/td>\r\n | elephantine<\/i><\/td>\r\n<\/tr>\r\n<\/tbody>\r\n<\/table>\r\n If you are not surfeited with these words, see if you can identify the meaning of caprine, hircine, corvine, cervine, leporine, piscine, murine, vespine, anserine, delphine, <\/i>musteline, pavonine, hirundine, <\/i>and psittacine. <\/i>(You can blame previous students in Greek and Roman Studies 250, who volunteered many of these.) There are still more to be found![footnote] Some animal adjectives use other Latin suffixes. \u201cLike a monkey\u201d (simia<\/strong>) is simian<\/em> (simianus<\/strong>). The suffix -anus<\/strong> also explains apian<\/em> (< apis<\/strong>, \u201cbee\u201d) and avian<\/em> (< avis<\/strong>, \u201cbird\u201d). An apiary (< apiarium<\/strong>) and an aviary (< aviarium<\/strong>) are places for bees and birds, respectively. \u201cPertaining to a fowl\u201d is gallinaceou<\/em>s<\/strong> < gallinaceus<\/strong> (gallina\/gallus<\/strong>). The columbine<\/em> is a pigeon-like flower. The porcupine<\/em> doesn\u2019t belong at all: he is a \u201cthorny pig\u201d (< porcus + spin<\/strong>a).[\/footnote]<\/p>\r\nEnglish derivatives from Latin -arius<\/b> or -arium<\/b> can be quite surprising. Could anyone possibly recognize ewer<\/i> (a pitcher) as a doublet for aquarium? <\/i>The Latin root must have been carelessly pronounced in Gaul (cf. aqua<\/b> > eau); <\/i>in Italian, acqua<\/i> is virtually unchanged, E aquarium<\/i> is acquario<\/i>, and acquaio<\/i> refers to the kitchen sink! Once you\u2019ve learned the etymology of ewer<\/i>, you may be able to solve the mystery of sewer: <\/i> it\u2019s from ex-aquarium<\/b>, a place to take water out. These heavily disguised derivatives are the great joys of word-sleuthing. There is nothing disguised about seminary<\/i> (< seminarium<\/b>), but its semantic evolution is remarkable\u2014from \u201cseed-bed\u201d to school for would-be priests. A columbary<\/i> is a dove-cote or pigeon-house (< columba<\/b>); the original Latin word columbarium<\/b> could also have this meaning, but more commonly suggested a sepulchre with niches (\u201cpigeonholes\u201d) for funerary urns, a meaning it still carries today. If you are gregarious<\/i> (< L gregarius<\/b>), you want to belong to the flock (grex<\/b>, greg-is<\/b>). If you are egregious<\/i> (< L e-gregius<\/b>), you stand \u201cout from the flock\u201d\u2014not a good thing, apparently, since we talk only about an \u201cegregious blunder,\u201d an \u201cegregious fool,\u201d and an \u201cegregious ass.\u201d (Does an ass have a flock to stand out from?)<\/p>\r\n A person who has had a \u201ccoronary\u201d (< L coronarius) <\/b>has suffered a thrombosis in one of the coronary<\/i> or \u201ccrown-like\u201d arteries that join the aorta to the heart (from the Latin 1st declension noun corona, <\/b>\u201ccrown\u201d). Therefore English crown<\/i> and corona<\/i> are DOUBLETS, as are cor<\/i>onary<\/i> and coroner<\/i>\u2014originally an officer of the crown. (But don\u2019t describe crown<\/i> and coroner<\/i> as doublets of each other; their source-words, corona<\/b> and coronarius<\/b>, are related but not identical.)<\/p>\r\n Just as L onerosus<\/b> (\u201cfull of burdens\u201d < onus<\/b>, oner-is<\/b>) evolved into E onerous<\/i>, so ponderosus<\/b> (\u201cfull of weight\u201d < pondus<\/b>, ponder-is<\/b>) evolved into E ponderous. <\/i>We all know about \u201cponderous pachyderms.\u201d The original Latin adjective survives in the feminine (ponderosa) <\/i>to describe a species of pine\u2014and to name Ben Cartwright\u2019s ranch, so familiar to insomniacs reduced to watching late-night television reruns.<\/p>\r\n Ardent feminists will be amused to note the similarity between L vir<\/b> (\u201cman\u201d) and virus<\/b> (\u201cpoison\u201d)\u2014totally unrelated nouns, as any male linguist will tell you. English has virile<\/i> (< L virilis<\/b>), \u201cmanly,\u201d and viral<\/i> (a recent analogous coinage), \u201cpertaining to a virus.\u201d As we saw in \u00a740<\/a>, virulent<\/i> (< virulentus<\/b>) means \u201cfull of poison.\u201d Strangely enough, classical Latin had another adjectival form, virosus<\/b>, which could mean either \u201clonging after men\u201d or \u201cfull of slime.\u201d Maybe this ambiguous little item should be revived.<\/p>\r\nThe English adjectives facetious<\/i> and jocose<\/i> have virtually identical semantic meanings. How do they differ in modern connotation and usage? The two words conveniently illustrate the twin fates of Latin -osus<\/b> derivatives in English.<\/p>\r\n \r\n\r\n<\/div>","rendered":" As promised earlier, here is a list of animal adjectives, in Latin and in English:<\/p>\n A LATIN BESTIARY<\/b> < bestiarium<\/b> (< bestia<\/b>); cf. E bestial<\/i> < bestialis<\/b>
<\/b>Compound adjectives formed from a noun base and suffix –<\/b>\u012bnus<\/strong>
<\/b>English meaning: \u201cpertaining to a ——\u201d or like a ——\u201d<\/p>\n\n \n\n\n| ENGLISH NOUN<\/td>\n | LATIN NOUN<\/td>\n | BASE<\/td>\n | LATIN ADJECTIVE<\/td>\n | ENGLISH DERIVATIVE<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n | \n| horse<\/td>\n | equus <\/b>(2)<\/td>\n | equ-<\/strong><\/td>\n| equinus<\/b><\/td>\n | equine<\/i><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n\n| dog<\/td>\n | canis <\/b>(3)<\/td>\n | can-<\/strong><\/td>\n| caninus<\/b><\/td>\n | canine<\/i><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n\n| cat<\/td>\n | feles<\/b> (3)<\/td>\n | fel-<\/strong><\/td>\n| felinus<\/b><\/td>\n | feline<\/i><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n\n| pig<\/td>\n | porcus<\/b> (2)<\/td>\n | porc-<\/strong><\/td>\n| porcinus<\/b><\/td>\n | porcine<\/i><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n\n| sheep<\/td>\n | ovis<\/b> (3)<\/td>\n | ov-<\/strong><\/td>\n| ovinus<\/b><\/td>\n | ovine<\/i> | | | | | | | | | | |