Even in highly inflected languages, like Latin and Greek, the personal endings, commonly regarded as the special formal characteristic of the verb, have no place in the participles and infinitives.
Again, such an expression as Rex es, ‘Thou art king,’ is identical in meaning with Regnas, ‘Thou rulest;’ so that the verbal termination, as such, need not serve to mark any distinction of meaning between the verb and the adjective or substantive used predicatively.
If we say that it is of the essence of the verb to describe a mere transient process limited by time, while the adjective or substantive denotes a permanent quality, we must observe that the adjective may describe a transient quality; as, dirty, pale: while verbs may be used to describe states; as, to glow, cf. candere = to be white.
The participle must be regarded as partaking of the nature of the verb as well as of that of the adjective. The peculiarity of the participle, as compared with the adjective, is that it enables us to express an occurrence or event attributively; as, They, looking, saw. We must look upon adjectives as the older formation of the two, and indeed we must suppose that adjectives had been completely developed before participles could take their rise at all.
The characteristic difference between the participle and the so-called verbal adjective is that the participle, unlike the adjective, is capable of denoting tense; as, τύψας (= ‘having struck’). The participle, when standing as an attribute to a noun, partakes of the construction of a noun (i.e. substantive or adjective); as, Vir captus est (‘The man is caught’). But it may depart from the character of a noun by departing from such nominal construction, and striking out a new path of its own.
Thus, in He has taken her, He has slept, we have a use of the participle quite unlike the use of the adjective. No doubt it is true that such a phrase as He has taken her signified originally He has or holds her as one taken; cf. Cura intentos habebat Romanos, (Liv., xxvi. 1), but we do not now apprehend the construction thus. In French, the transition from the general adjectival into the special participial construction is clearer: J’ai vu les dames, ‘I have seen the ladies;’ but Je les ai vues, ‘I have seen (fem. plur.) them,’ and les dames que j’ai vues, ‘the ladies that I have seen (fem. plur).’ In Italian, we say Ho vedute (fem. plur.) le donne = ‘I have seen the ladies,’ as well as Ho veduto le donne (masc. or genderless sing.). In Spanish, all inflection in the case of periphrases formed with ‘haber’ is abolished; it is as correct to write la carta que he escrito = ‘the letter which I have written,’ as to say He escrito una carta = ‘I have written a letter.’ On the other hand, in periphrases made with tener (to hold, used as auxiliary like to have), a later introduction into the language, the inflection is always retained; in tengo escrita una carta, = ‘I have written (fem.) a letter (fem.)’ it is as imperative to observe the concord of gender as in Las cartas que tengo escritas = ‘The letters which I have written.’
Conversely: it is possible for the participle to gradually recur to a purely nominal character. Bearing in mind our definition of the participle, we may say that this recurrence has taken place as soon as the present participle is used for the lasting activity; as when we talk about a knowing man: and as soon as the perfect participle comes to be used to express the result of the activity; as, a lost chance. The more such participle is employed in a specialised meaning—as, for instance, metaphorically,—the more speedily and thoroughly will the transformation become accomplished; as in such cases as striking, charming, elevated, drunken, agèd, learnèd, crabbèd, doggèd, etc. Nay, such words may even combine with another, after the laws of verbal construction: as in the case of high-flying, well-wishing, flesh-eating, new-born, well-educated.
The participle, again, like other adjectives, may become a substantive, e.g. the anointed; and the substantival participle, like the adjectival, may either denote a momentary activity (or, rather, an activity limited as to time), e.g. the patient, i.e. the suffering one, or a state, e.g. the regent = the ruling one = the ruler. It may, indeed, entirely lose its verbal nature, as, friend, fiend, i.e. the loving one, the hating one, etc.
The nomen agentis, resembling in this respect the participle, may denote either a momentary or a lasting activity; as, the doer = ‘he who does;’ the dancer (if = ‘he who is wont to dance,’ e.g., as his profession). In the former application it remains closely connected with the verb; and there is no reason, except custom, why it should not, like the participle, take an object, just like the verb; in fact, that it should not be correct to say the teacher the boy for ‘he who teaches the boy,’ just as it is possible to say the school-teacher. We actually do find in Latin, dator divitias, ‘giver riches (acc. plur.)’ = ‘he who gives riches;’ justa orator (Plautus, Amphyt., 34), ‘the just things (acc. neut. plur.) orator or speaker’ = ‘he who speaks just things.’
In Shakespeare, we find and all is semblative a woman’s part (Twelfth Night, I. iv.), where an adjective, semblative, is similarly construed with a verbal force; the sentence being equivalent to ‘and all resembles that which we might expect in a woman.’ On the other hand, the nomen agentis, when denoting lasting activity, may separate more and more from the verb, and thus finally lose its special character, as noun indicating a ‘doer,’ e.g., owner, actor, father (lit. ‘he who feeds or who protects;’ from a root which means either to nourish or to protect).