OF A VERB.
A verb is the chief word in every sentence, as Suspendatur per collum, let him be hanged by the neck.
It expresses the action or being of a thing. Ego sum sapiens, I am a wise man. Tu es stultus, thou art a fool. Non hic amice, pernoctas, you don’t lodge here, Mr. Ferguson.
Verbs have two voices, like the gentleman who was singing, a short time since, at the St. James’s Theatre.
The active ending in o—as amo, I love.
The passive ending in or—as amor, I am loved.
In these two words is contained the terrestrial summum bonum—In short, love beats everything—cock-fighting not excepted. Amo! amor! How happy every human being, from the peer to the pot-boy, from the duchess to the dairy-maid, would be to be able to say so.
They would conjugate immediately. Except, however, certain modern political economists of the Malthusian school, who, albeit they are great advocates for the diffusion of learning, are violently opposed to unlimited conjugations.
Of verbs ending in o some are actives transitive. A verb is called transitive when the action passes on to the following noun, as Seco baculum meum, I cut my stick.
Numerous examples of this kind of cutting, which may be called a comic section, are recorded in history, both ancient and modern. Even Hector cut his stick (with Achilles after him) at the siege of Troy. The Persians cut their stick at Marathon. Pompey cut his stick at Pharsalia, and so did Antony at Actium. Napoleon Bonaparte cut his stick at Waterloo.
Other verbs ending in o are named neuters and intransitives. A verb is called intransitive, or neuter, when the action does not pass on, or require a following noun, as curro, I run. Pistol cucurrit, Pistol ran. But to say, “Falstaff voluit currere eum per,” “Falstaff wished to run him through,” would be making a neuter verb, a verb active, and would therefore be Latin of the canine species, or Dog-Latin; so would Meus homo Gulielmus cucurrit caput suum plenum sed contra te homo dic pax, My man William ran his head full but against the mantel-piece. This, it is obvious, will not do after Cicero.
Verbs transitive ending in o become passive by changing o into or, as Secor, I am cut. Cæsar was cut by his friend Brutus in the capitol. “This,” as Antony very judiciously observed on the hustings, “was the most unkindest cut of all,”—much worse, indeed, than any of the similar operations which are daily performed in Regent Street.
BRUTUS AND CÆSAR.
Verbs neuter and intransitive are never made passive. We may say, Crepo, I crack, but we cannot say, Crepor, I am cracked.
The ancient heroes appear, from what Homer says, to have got into a way of cracking away most tremendously when they were going to engage in single combat.
Orestes was certainly cracked.
Some verbs ending in or have an active signification—as Loquor, I speak.
Q. Why are such verbs like witnesses on oath?
A. Because they are called “Deponents.”
Of these some few are neuters, as Glorior, I boast.
Cæsar boasted that he came, saw, and overcame. Bald-headed people (like Cæsar) do not, in general, make conquests so easily.
Neuter Verbs ending in or, and verbs deponent, are declined like verbs passive; but with gerunds and supines like verbs active; thus presenting a curious combination of activity and supineness.
There are some verbs which are called verbs personal. A verb personal resembles a mixed group of old maids and young maids, because it has different persons, as Ego irrideo, I quiz. Tu irrides, thou quizzest.
A verb impersonal is like a collection of tombstone angels, or small children; it has not different persons, as tædet, it irketh, oportet, it behoveth.
It irketh to learn Greek and Latin, nevertheless it behoveth to do so.