The subjunctive mood has a far more important and almost entirely different function from those commonly assigned to it. The word 'mood' comes from the Latin modus (manner) and, as used with reference to verbs, denotes certain variations of their form, by means of which the speaker can show the manner in which the action, being or state of being is connected in his own mind with the things spoken of. The subjunctive mood includes those forms of the verb which the speaker must use when he wishes to show that his statement or supposition is connected in his mind with a matter of mere conception and not a matter of real fact, independent of his own thought about it. The term 'subjunctive' comes from the Latin subjungere (to join on-to) and was applied to this mood because it is used more frequently in sub-joined clauses than in principal clauses; but its name does not limit it to dependent clauses, for we have many examples that will prove to the contrary; as 'This single crime, in my judgment, were sufficient to condemn him.'—Duncan's Cicero, p. 82; 'Be he who he will.'—Sh. R. (Koch); 'It were long to tell.'—Byron's Giaour; 'To love thee were to love myself.'—Paradise Lost, IX., 959; 'The rest were long to tell.—Ib. I., 507; Compare the force of the subjunctive in these with its force in the following examples: 'Whatever betide, be thou at least kind to my memory.'—Byron's Marino Faliero II., 1; 'He stood resigned to the decree, whatever it were.'—Ib. I., 2. Then, if we consider it worth our while to distinguish in our statements between those made in connection with real matter of fact and those made in connection with matter of mere conception, the subjunctive mood must remain in our language, for it is the only means by which we can show this important distinction. When ever we lay aside the subjunctive mood we lay aside one of the powers of our language.
C. W.
WOMAN'S EASTER.
BY LUCY LARCOME.
With Mary, ere dawn, in the garden,
I stand at the tomb of the Lord;
I share in her sorrowing wonder;
I hear through the darkness a word,
The first the dear Master hath spoken
Since the awful death-stillness was broken.
He calleth her tenderly—"Mary!"