Lectures on Language As Particularly Connected with English Grammar.

LECTURE XI.

ON VERBS.

The verb =to be=.--Com­pound­ed of dif­fer­ent rad­ical words.--=Am=. --De­fined.--The name of De­ity.--_Ei_.--=Is=.--=Are=.--=Were=, =was=.--=Be=.--A di­alogue.--Ex­am­ples.--Pas­sive Verbs ex­am­ined.-- Can­not be in the present tense.--The past par­tici­ple is an ad­jec­tive.

We have gone through the ex­am­ina­tion of _neuter_ and _in­tran­si­tive_ verbs, with the ex­cep­tion of the verb =to be=, which we pro­pose to no­tice in this place. Much more might be said on the sub­jects I have dis­cussed, and many more ex­am­ples giv­en to il­lus­trate the na­ture and op­er­ation of ac­tions as ex­pressed by verbs, and al­so in ref­er­ence to the _ob­jects_ of ac­tion; but I trust the hints I have giv­en will be sat­is­fac­to­ry. I am con­fi­dent, if you will al­low your minds to _think_ cor­rect _thoughts_, and not _suf­fer_ them _to be_ mis­led by er­ro­neous teach­ing, you will ar­rive at the same con­clu­sion that I have, viz. that all verbs de­pend on a _com­mon prin­ci­ple_ for their ex­pla­na­tion; that they are alike ac­tive, and nec­es­sar­ily take an ob­ject af­ter them, ei­ther ex­pressed or un­der­stood, in ac­cor­dance with the im­mutable law of na­ture, which teach­es that like caus­es will pro­duce like ef­fects.

* * * * *

The verb =to be=, as it is called, is con­ju­gat­ed by the aid of six dif­fer­ent words, in its var­ious modes and tens­es; _am_, _is_, _are_, _was_, _were_, _be_. _Am_ is un­changed, al­ways in the in­dica­tive mood, present tense, agree­ing with the _first_ per­son sin­gu­lar. _Is_ is al­so un­changed, in the same mood and tense, agree­ing with the _third_ per­son sin­gu­lar. _Art_, in the sin­gu­lar, is the same as _are_ in the plu­ral. _Was_ and _wast_, are the same as _were_ and _wert_ in mean­ing, be­ing de­rived from the same et­ymon. _Be_, _be­ing_, and _been_, are changes of the same word. _Be_ was for­mer­ly ex­ten­sive­ly used in the in­dica­tive present, but in that con­di­tion it is near­ly ob­so­lete. _Were_ was al­so used in the sin­gu­lar as well as plu­ral, es­pe­cial­ly when com­ing be­fore the agent; as, “were I to go, I would do your busi­ness.” But it is now more com­mon to have _was_ cor­rect­ly used in that case. But, as one ex­treme of­ten fol­lows an­oth­er, peo­ple have laid _were_ quite too much aside, and of­ten crowd _was_ in­to its place in com­mon con­ver­sa­tion; as “we _was_ (were) there yes­ter­day.” “There _was_ (were) five or six men en­gaged in the busi­ness.” This er­ror ap­pears to be gain­ing ground, and should be checked be­fore it goes far­ther.

The com­bi­na­tion of these dif­fer­ent words was pro­duced by habit, to avoid the monotony which the fre­quent re­cur­rence of one word, so nec­es­sary in the ex­pres­sion of thought, would oc­ca­sion: the same as the past tense of _go_ is made by the sub­sti­tu­tion of an­oth­er word rad­ical­ly dif­fer­ent, _went_, the past tense of _wend_ or _wind_. “O'er hills and dales they _wend_ their way.” “The low­ing herd _wind_ slow­ly o'er the lea.” _Go_ and _wend_ con­vey to our minds near­ly the same ideas. The lat­ter is a lit­tle more po­et­ical, be­cause less used. But orig­inal­ly their sig­ni­fi­ca­tion was quite dif­fer­ent. So with the parts of the verb =to be=. They were con­sol­idat­ed as a mat­ter of con­ve­nience, and now ap­pear in their re­spec­tive po­si­tions to ex­press the idea of be­ing, life, or ex­is­tence.

I have said this verb ex­press­es the high­est de­gree of ac­tion. I will now at­tempt to prove it. I should like to go in­to a la­bored and crit­ical ex­am­ina­tion of the words, and trace their changes thro var­ious lan­guages, was it in ac­cor­dance with the de­sign of these lec­tures. But as it is not, I shall con­tent my­self with gen­er­al ob­ser­va­tions.

_I am._

This word is not de­fined in our dic­tio­nar­ies. It is on­ly said to be “_the first per­son of to be_.” We must look for its mean­ing some where else. It is a com­pound of two an­cient words, _ah_, _breath_, to _breathe_, life, to _live_, _light_, to _light_; and _ma_, the _hand_, or to _hand_. It sig­ni­fies to _viv­ify_, _sus­tain_, or _sup­port_ one's self in be­ing or ex­is­tence. In pro­cess of time, like oth­er things in this mu­ta­ble world, its form was changed, but the mean­ing re­tained. But as one per­son could not _viv­ify_ or _live_ an­oth­er, _in­flate_ an­oth­er's lungs, or breathe an­oth­er's breath, it be­came re­strict­ed to the first per­son. It means, I _breathe breath_, _viv­ify my­self_, _live life_, or _ex­er­cise_ the pow­er of _be­ing_ or _liv­ing_. It con­veys this fact in ev­ery in­stance, for no per­son in­ca­pable of breath­ing can say _I am_. Let any per­son pro­nounce the word _ah-​ma_, and they will at once per­ceive the ap­pro­pri­ate­ness of the mean­ing here giv­en. It is very sim­ilar to the let­ter _h_, and the pro­noun, (orig­inal­ly _noun_,) _he_, or the “_rough breath­ing_” in the Greek lan­guage. _Ma_ is com­pound­ed with many words which ex­press ac­tion done by the hand; as, _ma_nu­fac­ture, _ma_nu­mit. It de­not­ed any ac­tion or work done by the hand as the in­stru­ment; but, like oth­er words, it grad­ual­ly changed its im­port, so as to ex­press any _ef­fec­tive_ op­er­ation. Hence the union of the words was nat­ural and easy, and _ah­ma_ de­not­ed _breath­ing_, _to live_ or sus­tain life. _H_ is a pre­car­ious let­ter in all lan­guages that use it, as the pro­nun­ci­ation of it by many who speak the En­glish lan­guage, will prove. It was long ago dropt, in this word, and af­ter it the last _a_, so that we now have the plain word _am_.

It was for­mer­ly used as a noun in our lan­guage, and as such may be found in Ex­odus 3: 13, 14. “And Moses said un­to God, Be­hold when I come un­to the chil­dren of Is­rael and shall say un­to them, The God of your fa­thers sent me un­to you; and they shall say to me, What is his _name_? what shall I say un­to them? And God said un­to Moses, I =am= the I AM; and he said, Thus shalt thou say un­to the chil­dren of Is­rael, I AM hath sent me un­to you.” Chap. 6: 3.--“I ap­peared un­to Abra­ham, un­to Isaac, and un­to Ja­cob, by the name of God Almighty; but by my name =Je­ho­vah= (I AM) was I not known un­to them.” The word _Je­ho­vah_ is the same as _am_. It is the name of the _self-​ex­is­tent_, _self-​sus­tain­ing_ =Be­ing=, who has not on­ly pow­er to up­hold all things, but to per­form the still more sub­lime ac­tion of _up­hold­ing_ or _sus­tain­ing him­self_. This is the high­est pos­si­ble de­gree of ac­tion. Let this fail, and all cre­ation will be a wreck. He is the _ev­er-​liv­ing_, _un­con­trolled_, _un­fail­ing_, _unas­sist­ed_, and _nev­er-​chang­ing_ God, the Cre­ator, Pre­serv­er, Al­pha and Omega, the Be­gin­ning and End of all things. He is the _First Cause_ of all caus­es, the _Agent_, orig­inal mov­ing Pow­er, and guid­ing Wis­dom, which set in mo­tion the wheels of uni­ver­sal na­ture, and guides and gov­erns them with­out “vari­able­ness or the shad­ow of turn­ing.”

“I AM the first, and I, the last, Thro end­less years the same; I AM is my memo­ri­al still, And my eter­nal name.” _Watts' Hymn._

Ask the Jews the mean­ing of this _neuter verb_ in their lan­guage. They hold it in the most pro­found and su­per­sti­tious rev­er­ence. Af­ter the cap­tiv­ity of their na­tion they nev­er dared pro­nounce the name ex­cept once a year when the high priest went in­to the Holy of Holies, and hence the true pro­nun­ci­ation of it was lost. Un­to this day they dare not at­tempt to ut­ter it. In all their writ­ings it re­mains in char­ac­ters un­trans­lat­ed. When their Mes­si­ah comes they ex­pect he will re­store the pro­nun­ci­ation, and by it they shall be able to ac­com­plish all things.[15]

Ac­cord­ing to Plutarch the Greeks had the let­ters EI, =thou art=, en­graven on the tem­ple of Apol­lo at Del­phi, which is the sec­ond per­son of =Ei­mi=, _I am_.[16]

This mot­to was doubt­less bor­rowed from the Jews, to whom it was giv­en as the name of the God of Ja­cob. The same name you may see en­graven on mon­uments, on pic­tures of the bible, on ma­son­ic im­ple­ments, and in var­ious places, un­trans­lat­ed.

Who can sup­pose that this word “ex­press­es no ac­tion,” when the very per­son in­ca­pable of it can not ut­ter it, and no one else can speak it for him? It de­notes the high­est con­ceiv­able ac­tion ap­plied to De­ity or to man, and it is ques­tion­able phi­los­ophy which dares con­tra­dict this fact. The ac­tion ex­pressed by it, is not changed, be­cause it does not ter­mi­nate on a for­eign ob­ject. It re­mains the same. It is self-​ac­tion.

_He is._

This word is con­struct­ed from an old verb sig­ni­fy­ing _to stand forth_, _to ap­pear_, _to show one's self_, and may be traced, I think, to the latin _eo_, _to go_, and _ex­ist_, to _ex­eo_, _to go from_; that is, our _be­ing_ or _ex­is­tence_, _came_ or _stood forth_ from God. It is cer­tain­ly a con­trac­tion from the old en­glish _to ex­ist_. _Ist_ is the spelling still re­tained in the ger­man and some oth­er lan­guages. It de­notes self-​ac­tion. One man does not _ex­ist_ an­oth­er, but him­self. He _keeps him­self_ in ex­is­tence.

_We are_, _thou are-​est_, _ar­st_, or _art_.

Be not sur­prised when I tell you this is the same word as _air_, for such is the fact. It sig­ni­fies to in­hale air, to _air our­selves_, or _breathe air_. “God _breathed_ in­to man the _breath of life_, and man be­came a _liv­ing soul_.” The new born in­fant _in­hales air_, _in­flates its lungs_ with _air_, and be­gins to live. We all know how es­sen­tial _air_ is to the preser­va­tion of life. No an­imal can live an in­stant with­out it. Drop a squir­rel in­to a re­ceiv­er from which all _air_ has been ex­tract­ed, and it can not live. Even veg­eta­bles will die where there is no air. _Light_ is al­so in­dis­pens­able to _life_ and _health_. _Air_ is _in­haled_ and _ex­haled_, and from it life re­ceives sup­port. The fact be­ing com­mon, it is not so dis­tinct­ly ob­served by the care­less, as tho it was more rare. But did you nev­er see the man dy­ing of a con­sump­tion, when the pul­monary or breath­ing or­gans were near­ly de­cayed? How he labors for breath! He asks to have the win­dows thrown open. At length he _suf­fo­cates_ and dies. Most per­sons strug­gle hard for _breath_ in the hour of dis­solv­ing na­ture. The heav­ing bo­som, the hol­low gasp for _air_, tells us that the lamp of life is soon to be ex­tin­guished, that the hour of their de­par­ture has come.

When a per­son faints, we car­ry them in­to the _air_, or blow _air_ up­on them, that na­ture may be re­stored to its reg­ular course. In cer­tain cas­es physi­cians find it nec­es­sary to force air in­to the lungs of in­fants; they can af­ter that _air_, them­selves, _im­bibe_ or _drink in air_, or _in­spir­it_ them­selves with air. But I need not en­large. Who­ev­er has been de­prived of air and la­bored hard for breath in a sti­fled or un­whole­some air, can ap­pre­ci­ate what we mean.

_We were_; _he was_.

I have said be­fore that these words are the same, and are used in cer­tain cas­es ir­re­spec­tive of num­ber. I have good au­thor­ity for this opin­ion, al­tho some et­ymol­ogists give them dif­fer­ent deriva­tions.

_Were_, _wert_; _worth_, _werth_; _word_ and _werde_, are de­rived from the same et­ymon and re­tain a sim­ilar­ity of mean­ing. They sig­ni­fy _spir­it_, _life_, _en­er­gy_. “In the be­gin­ning was the _word_, and the _word_ was with God.” “By the _word_ of his grace.”

“_They were_,” they _in­spir­it­ed_ them­selves, _pos­sessed_ the life, vi­tal­ity, or _spir­it_, the Cre­ator gave them, and hav­ing that spir­it, life, or en­er­gy, un­der prop­er reg­ula­tion, in due de­gree, they were _wor­thy_ of the es­teem, re­gard, sym­pa­thy, and good _word_ of oth­ers.

_To be._

This is con­sid­ered the root of all the words we have con­sid­ered, and to it all oth­ers are re­ferred for a def­ini­tion. Dic­tio­nar­ies give no def­ini­tion to _am_, _is_, _are_, _was_, and _were_, all of them as tru­ly prin­ci­pal verbs as _be_, and pos­sessed of as dis­tinct a mean­ing. It can hard­ly be pos­si­ble that they should form so im­por­tant a part of our lan­guage, and yet be in­ca­pable of def­ini­tion. But such is the fact, the most sig­nif­icant words in our lan­guage, and those most fre­quent­ly used, are un­de­fined in the books.

Mr. Web­ster says =to be= sig­ni­fies, “to ex­ist, to _have_ a re­al _state_ or _ex­is­tence_,” and so say Walk­er and John­son. Now if it is pos­si­ble to “=have= _a state of be­ing_ with­out ac­tion or pas­sion,” then may this word ex­press neu­tral­ity. But the very def­ini­tion re­quires ac­tiv­ity, and an ob­ject ex­pressed. It de­notes the _act of be­ing_, or liv­ing; to _ex­er­cise_ the pow­ers of life, to _main­tain_ a po­si­tion or rank in the scale of ex­is­tent things.

The name of the ac­tion is _be­ing_, and ap­plies to the Almighty BE­ING who _ex­ists_ un­changed as the source of all in­fe­ri­or _be­ings_ and things, whose name is _Je­ho­vah_, I AM, the Be­ing of be­ings, the Foun­tain of _light_, _life_, and _wis­dom_.

_Be_ is used in the im­per­ative and in­fini­tive moods cor­rect­ly, by ev­ery body who em­ploys lan­guage. “_Be_ here in ten min­utes.” “_Be it_ far from thee.” “I will _be_ in Boston be­fore noon.” If there is any ac­tion in go­ing from Prov­idence to Boston at rail-​road speed, in two hours, or be­fore noon, it is all ex­pressed by the verb _be_, which we are told ex­press­es _no ac­tion_.

The teach­er says to his schol­ars when out at play, “I want you _to be_ in your seats in five min­utes.” What would they un­der­stand him to mean? that they should stand still? or that they should _change their state of be­ing_ from play in the yard, to a state of be­ing in their seats? There is no word to de­note such change, ex­cept the word _to be_. _Be_ off, _be_ gone, _be_ here, _be_ there, are com­mands fre­quent­ly giv­en and cor­rect­ly un­der­stood.

The mas­ter says to a bright lit­tle lad, who has well learned his gram­mar, “_Be_ here in a minute.”

“Yes, sir, I will _be_ there;” but he does not move.

“_Be_ here im­me­di­ate­ly.”

“Yes, yes, I will _be_ there.”

“Don't you un­der­stand me? I say, _be_ here in­stant­ly.”

“Oh, yes, I un­der­stand you and will obey.”

The good man is en­raged. “You scoundrel,” says he, “do you mean to dis­obey my or­ders and in­sult me?”

“In­sult you and dis­obey you; I have done nei­ther,” replies the hon­est boy.

“Yes you have, and I will chas­tise you severe­ly for it.”

“No, mas­ter, I have not; I de­clare, I have not. I have obeyed you as well as I know how, to the very let­ter and spir­it of your com­mand.”

“Didn't I tell you _to be_ here in a minute, and have not you _re­mained_ where you were? and didn't you say you would _be_ here?”

“Yes, sir; and did not I do just what you told me to?”

“Why, no, you block­head; I told you _to be_ here.”

“Well, I told you I would _be_ there.”

“You _was_ not here.”

“Nor did you ex­pect I would _be_, if you have taught me to _speak_, _write_, and un­der­stand cor­rect­ly.”

“What do you mean, you saucy boy?”

“I mean to mind my mas­ter, and do what he tells me to.”

“Why didn't you do so then?”

“I did.”

“You didn't.”

“I did.”

“You lie, you in­sult me, you con­tra­dict me, you saucy fel­low. You are not fit to be in school. I will pun­ish you severe­ly.” And in a pas­sion he starts for his fer­rule, takes the boys hand, and bruis­es him bad­ly; the hon­est lit­tle fel­low all the while plead­ing in­no­cence of any in­tend­ed wrong.

In a short time they com­mence _pars­ing_ this sen­tence: “It is nec­es­sary _to be_ very par­tic­ular in as­cer­tain­ing the mean­ing of words be­fore we use them.” The mas­ter puts _to be_ to the same boy. He says it is an _ac­tive verb_, in­fini­tive mood.

“How is that? an _ac­tive_ verb?”

“Yes, sir.”

“No, it is not. It is a _neuter_ verb.”

“Beg­ging your par­don, mas­ter, it is not. It is ac­tive.”

“Have I got to pun­ish you again so soon, you im­pu­dent fel­low. You are not fit to be in school. I will in­form your par­ents of your con­duct.”

“What have I done that is wrong?”

“You say _to be_ is an _ac­tive_ verb, when _I_ tell you, and the _gram­mar_ and _dic­tio­nary_ tell you, it is _neuter_!”

“What is a _neuter_ verb, mas­ter?”

“It ex­press­es 'nei­ther ac­tion nor pas­sion, but be­ing or a state of be­ing.' Have you for­got­ten it?”

“No, sir, I _thought_ that was the case.”

“What did you ask me for then?”

“Be­cause I sup­posed you had found an­oth­er mean­ing for it.”

“To what do you al­lude, you trou­ble­some fel­low, you? I'll not bear your in­sults much longer.”

“For what did you pun­ish me so severe­ly just now?”

“For dis­obey­ing my or­ders.”

“What did you or­der me to do?”

“_To be_ here in a minute.”

“Well, did not I do what you told me?”

“No; you kept your seat, and did not come near me.”

“Well, I thought and did just what you now tell me; that _to be_ is a _neuter_ verb, ex­press­ing no _ac­tion_, but _be­ing_. I had a _state_ of _be­ing_, and promised to keep it, and did keep it, and you pun­ished me for do­ing the very thing you told me to do!!”

The mas­ter looked down, shut up his book, and be­gan to say that gram­mar is a “_dry_, _cold_, and _use­less_” study, hard­ly worth the trou­ble of learn­ing it.

* * * * *

“_I am_ Al­pha and Omega, the be­gin­ning and the end­ing, saith the Lord, who _is_, and who _was_, and who _is_ to come, the Almighty.”--_Rev. 1: 8._

If there is any ac­tion in main­tain­ing eter­nal ex­is­tence, by which all things were cre­at­ed and are up­held, it is ex­pressed in the verbs _am_, _is_, and _was_.

God said, “Let there _be_ light, and there _was_ light;” or more prop­er­ly ren­dered, “Light =be=, and light =was=.”

Was there no ac­tion in set­ting the sun, moon and stars in the fir­ma­ment, and in caus­ing them to _send_ forth the rays of light to _dis­pel_ the sur­round­ing dark­ness? If there was, _be_ and _was_ de­note that ac­tion.

“You are com­mand­ed =to be= and _ap­pear_ be­fore the court of com­mon pleas,” etc. A heavy penal­ty is im­posed up­on those who fail to com­ply with this ci­ta­tion--for ne­glect­ing to do what is ex­pressed by the _neuter verb_ to _be_.

Such cas­es might be mul­ti­plied with­out num­ber, where this verb is cor­rect­ly used by all who em­ploy lan­guage, and cor­rect­ly un­der­stood by all who are ca­pa­ble of know­ing the mean­ing of words. But I think you must all be con­vinced of the truth of our propo­si­tion, that all verbs ex­press ac­tion, ei­ther _re­al_ or _rel­ative_; and in all cas­es have an ob­ject, ex­pressed or nec­es­sar­ily im­plied, which stands as the _ef­fect_, and an agent, as the cause of ac­tion: and hence that lan­guage, as a means for the com­mu­ni­ca­tion of thought, does not de­vi­ate from the sound­est prin­ci­ples of phi­los­ophy, but in all cas­es, right­ly ex­plained, serves to il­lus­trate them, in the plainest man­ner.

* * * * *

A few re­marks on the “Pas­sive Verb,” and I will con­clude this part of our sub­ject, which has al­ready oc­cu­pied much more of our at­ten­tion than I ex­pect­ed at the out­set.

“_A verb pas­sive_ ex­press­es a pas­sion or a suf­fer­ing, or the re­ceiv­ing of an ac­tion; and nec­es­sar­ily im­plies an ob­ject act­ed up­on, and an agent by which it is act­ed up­on; as, to be loved; Pene­lope is loved by me.”

In the ex­pla­na­tion of this verb, gram­mar­ians fur­ther tell us that a pas­sive verb is formed by adding the verb _to be_, which is thus made aux­il­iary, to a past par­tici­ple; as, Por­tia _was loved_. Pom­pey _was con­quered_.

It is sin­gu­lar how for­get­ful our great men some­times are about ob­serv­ing their own rules. Take an in­stance in Mr. Walk­er's oc­ta­vo dic­tio­nary. Look for the word _sime­ter_, a small sword. You will find it spelled _scim­itar_. Then turn over, and you will find it _s_im_i_t_a_r, with the same def­ini­tion, and the re­mark, “more prop­er­ly _c_im_e_t_a_r.” Then turn back, and find the cor­rect word as he spells it, and there you will find it cimet_e_r.

Un­set­tled as to the true spelling, go to our own hon­ored Web­ster. Look for “scimiter.” He says, see cim­it_a_r. Then look for “cim­itar;” see cim_e_t_e_r. Then hunt up the true word, be it _ar_ or _er_, and you will find it still an­oth­er way, cim_i_t_e_r. Here the schol­ar has sev­en dif­fer­ent ways to spell this word, and nei­ther of his au­thor­ities have fol­lowed their own ex­am­ples. I cite this as one of a thou­sand in­stances, where our sa­vans have laid down rules for oth­ers, and dis­re­gard­ed them them­selves.

Por­tia _is loved_ and _hap­py_. She is _re­spectable_, _vir­tu­ous_, _tal­ent­ed_, and _re­spect­ed_ by all who know her. She _is seat­ed by the door_. Does the _door_ seat her? What agent, then, caus­es her _pas­sion_ or _suf­fer­ing_?

The book is print­ed. Will you parse _is print­ed_? It is a pas­sive verb, in­dica­tive mood, _present tense_. Who _is_ print­ing it? caus­ing it, in the present tense, to _suf­fer_ or _re­ceive_ the ac­tion? The act of print­ing _was per­formed_ a hun­dred years ago. How can it be present time?

Pene­lope _is loved_ by me. The blow _is re­ceived_ by me. It _is giv­en_ by me. Pene­lope _is seat­ed_ by me. The earth­quake _is felt_ by her. The evils _are suf­fered_ by her. The thun­der _is heard_ by her. Does this mean that she is the agent, and the earth­quake, evils, and thun­der, are the ob­jects which re­ceive the _ef­fects_ which she pro­duces? That would be sin­gu­lar phi­los­ophy, in­deed. But _to feel_, _to suf­fer_, and _to hear_, are ac­tive, and are con­struct­ed in­to pas­sive verbs. Why is it not as cor­rect to say she _is suf­fer­ing_ by an­oth­er's wrongs, _is rag­ing_ by the op­er­ation of pas­sion, or _is trav­el­ling_ by rail-​road, are pas­sive verbs? The fact is, our lan­guage can not _be ex­plained_ by set rules or forms of speech. We must re­gard the sense. The past par­tici­ple, as it is called, be­comes an ad­jec­tive by use, and de­scribes her as some way af­fect­ed by a pre­vi­ous ac­tion. She is _learned_, _hand­some_, _mod­est_, and, of course, _beloved_ by all who know her.

To say “she _is placed_ by the wa­ter's edge,” is a pas­sive verb, and that the wa­ter's edge, as the agent, caus­es her “pas­sion, suf­fer­ing, or re­ceiv­ing of the ac­tion,” is false and ridicu­lous, for she _placed_ her­self there.

“We _are seat­ed_ on our seats by the stove.” What pow­er is _now_ op­er­at­ing on us to make us suf­fer or re­ceive the ac­tion of be­ing seat­ed on our seats? Does the stove per­form this ac­tion? This is a pas­sive verb, _present tense_, which re­quires an “ob­ject act­ed up­on, and an _agent_ by which it is act­ed up­on.” But we came in and _seat­ed our­selves_ here an hour ago.

The man _is ac­quit­ted_. He _stands ac­quit­ted_ be­fore the pub­lic. He _is learned_, wise, and hap­py, very much _im­proved_ with­in a few years. He _is_ al­ways ac­tive, stu­dious, and _en­gaged_ in his own af­fairs. He _is renowned_, and _val­or­ous_. She _is re­spect­ed_. She _lives re­spect­ed_.

If there is such a thing as a pas­sive verb, it can nev­er be used in the present tense, for the ac­tion ex­pressed by the prin­ci­pal verb which is pro­duced by the agent op­er­at­ing up­on the ob­ject, is al­ways _past_ tense, and the aux­il­iary, or help­ing verb _to be_, is al­ways present. Let this verb be an­alyzed, and the true mean­ing of each word un­der­stood, lit­tle dif­fi­cul­ty will be found in giv­ing it an ex­pla­na­tion.

I will not spend more time in ex­pos­ing the fu­til­ity of this at­tempt­ed dis­tinc­tion. It de­pends sole­ly on a ver­bal form, but can nev­er _be ex­plained_ so as _to be un­der­stood_ by any schol­ar. Most gram­mar­ians have seen the fal­la­cy of at­tempt­ing to give the mean­ing of this verb. They can show its _form_, but _are_ fre­quent­ly _com­pelled_, as in the cas­es above, to sort out the “_passed_ par­tici­ples” from a host of ad­jec­tives, and it will _be found_ ex­ceed­ing trou­ble­some to make schol­ars per­ceive any dif­fer­ence in the use of the words, or in the con­struc­tion of a sen­tence. But it may be they have nev­er thought that du­ty be­longed to them; that they have noth­ing to do but to show them what the book says. Sup­pose they should teach arith­metic on the same prin­ci­ples, and learn the schol­ars to set down 144 as the prod­uct of 12 times 12. Let them look at the form of the fig­ures, ob­serve just how they ap­pear, and make some more like them, and thus go thro the book. What would the child know of arith­metic? Just as much as they do of gram­mar, and no more. They would un­der­stand noth­ing of the sci­ence of num­bers, of pro­por­tion, or ad­di­tion. They would ex­er­cise the pow­er of im­ita­tion, and make one fig­ure look like an­oth­er. Be­yond that, all would be a _ter­ra incog­ni­ta_, a land un­known. So in the sci­ence of lan­guage; chil­dren may learn that the verb _to be_, joined with the past par­tici­ple of an ac­tive verb, makes _a pas­sive verb_; but what that pas­sive verb is when made, or how to ap­ply it, es­pe­cial­ly in the present tense, they have no means of know­ing. Their knowl­edge is all tak­en on trust, and when thrown up­on their own re­sources, they have none on which to re­ly.