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the disce is turned. In the centre of this last disc is a small button which turns with it, and the extremity of which presses the end of the metallic wire that supports the needle om.

To demonstrate the first of the above laws, first dry the air in the apparatus in order to diminish the loss of electricity, which is effected by placing in the box a small cup full of quick lime, and leaving it there for several days. When the air is completely dried and the zero point of the micrometer coincides with the index a, turn the moveable tube d till the needle

Fig. 380.

tinually; which demonstrates the law. In these experiments, we take the arc which measures the torsion as the interval between the electrisea bodies, that is to say, we take the arcs for their chords, which is only an approximation, but the error does not sensibly effect the results, the arcs being very small.

Electricity comes to the Surface of Bodies.-When an isolated body, of whatever form you choose, is electrised, whether positively or negatively, the electric fluid comes to the surface, where it forms a layer of infinite tenuity. This accumulation of all the electricity at the surface, was demonstrated by Coulomb by means of the two following experiments.

1. Take a hollow copper sphere isolated by a glass stand, and having in its upper part a circular opening, fig. 381. After

[graphic]

Fig. 381.

on is directed to the zero point of the graduated circle c, a position to which the ball m corresponds when it is in the box. Then withdrawing the ball, taking care to hold it by the isolating tube i, electrify it by bringing it in contact with some source of electricity, as e.g. an electrical machine, and then having electrified it by putting in contact with an electric put it back into the box through an opening r in the cover. source, touch first the inside and then the outside with a proof The disc n is immediately attracted, and then being electrised plane, i, e. a stick of gum lac with a metallic disc at the end to on contact with the ball, it is repelled, and after some oscilla-collect the electricity. Now on touching the inside of the tions it stops, when the torsion of the thread is in equilibrium electrified sphere with the proof plane, no electricity is collected, with the repulsive force between the disc and the ball. Sup- for on the plane being placed near the needle on, in the torsion pose the torsion indicated by the needle on the graduated balance of Coulomb, fig. 380, neither attraction nor repulsion circle c, to be 20 degrees, then the torsion being proportional is observable. But if the plane touch the outer surface of the to the force of torsion, this number 20 may be regarded as sphere it is electrised, for on being brought to the balance representing the electric repulsion at the distance at which there is attraction; consequently there is no free electricity the needle is placed. To measure this force at a less distance, except on the outer surface of the sphere. turn the disc e in the direction of the arrow till the distance of the tinseln from the ball m is only 10 degrees, or one-half what it was before. Now to bring the needle to this point, it is found necessary to turn the disc through 70 degrees. Therefore the metallic wire is twisted at its upper extremity 70 degrees in the direction of the arrow, and 10 degrees in a contrary direction at its lower extremity. Consequently, the two torsions together make a total of 80 degrees, that is to say, four times what corresponds to a double distance. Besides, the force of torsion being always equal and opposite to the repulsion, this last must also be four times as great as for a distance half as great. In the same way it may be shown that for a distance of a third, the repulsion is nine times as great, which proves the law for repulsion. That of attraction may be established by the same method, but it is necessary to give the ball and the disc contrary electricities.

The Second Law.-To demonstrate that the electric forces are directly proportional to the quantity of electricity in bodies, electrify the copper ball m, then, noting the repulsion acting on the needle on, remove the ball m, and touch it with a copper ball of the same diameter in a neutral state, and isolated by means of a glass handle. The ball m then gives up half its electricity to the other, since the surfaces of the two balls are equal, as will be explained presently. Now on returning the first ball to the box, we find that the repulsion is only half what it was at first. If we again take from the ball the remaining half of the electricity, the repulsion is only one-fourth of the original repulsion, and so on con

in fig. 381, and two hollow copper hemispheres of the same 2. Take a sphere charged with electricity, isolated like that diameter as the sphere, and capable of covering it and being quickly removed by means of glass handles. After having electrised the sphere, place the two hemispheres (holding them with glass handles) over the sphere, and then withdraw them both together quickly. You will then observe that they are both electrised, but that the sphere has retained no trace of electricity: therefore the fluid communicated to the sphere was entirely at its surface, since it was comple ely removed as soon as the two enveloping hemispheres touched it. The tendency of electricity to escape from bodies is called tension.

tricity.-On a metallic sphere the thickness of the electric Influence of the Form of Bodies on the Accumulation of Elecfact, that it must be so from the symmetrical form of the layer is the same for all points of the surface. It is evident, in sphere. It is proved by means of the torsion balance and the proof plane. For this purpose, electrise an isolated sphere like that represented in fig. 381, and, after touching several points in succession with the proof plane, bring the latter near the needle of the balance. The same torsion will be observed in each case, which shows that the proof plane has at every point received the same quantity of electricity.

If the electrified body is an elongated ellipsoid, fig. 382, the thickness of the electric layer ceases to be uniform, the electric fluid, always acted upon by its own repulsion, accumulates towards the most pointed parts where the electricity is conse

and objects are fitted to make upon him, he cannot be considered a free and accountable agent.

In opposition to this false hypothesis we assert that the whole force which governs man is within, and proceeds from himself. External objects are in themselves inert. They

quently thickest. To prove this, touch the ellipsoid with the proof plane in different points, and on applying the proof plane to the torsion balance, it will be found that the maximum of torsion is produced when the extremity a of the ellipsoid is touched, and the minimum when the part e is touched. Distribution and Communication of Electricity to Bodies in Con-exert no influence; no power emanates from them. The only tact. By the aid of the proof plane and the torsion balance, Coulomb made many experiments on the distribution of electricity over the surface of bodies in contact. With metallic spheres, isolated, put in contact, and electrised in this state, he found that the electric fiuid is differently distributed over their surfaces, according to the ratio of their diameters. If these are equal, the thickness of the electric fluid is nothing

Fig. 382.

at the point of contact, and does not become perceptible till at 20 degrees from that point. It increases rapidly from 20° to 30°, more slowly from 60° to 90°, and continues nearly the same from 90° to 180°. When the diameters are in the ratio of two to one, the thickness of electricity, which is nothing at the point of contact, is at first more considerable in the larger sphere, but it then increases more rapidly on the smaller, and at 180° from the point of contact, the smaller has the greatest thickness of electricity.

Loss of Electricity in Air.-Electrised bodies, though isolated, always lose their electricity more or less rapidly. This loss results from two causes. 1. The conducting property of the air and vapours which surround the bodies. 2. The conducting property of the isolating supports employed. The loss by the air varies with the electric tension, the renewal of the air, and its state of moisture. Dry air is a bad conductor of electricity, but if it is moist, its conducting power is in proportion to the quantity of vapour it contains. Coulomb showed that, in a calm atmosphere and a constant degree of moisture, the loss in a very short time is proportional to the tension-a law analogous to that of Newton on cooling. To diminish the loss of electricity by isolating supports, they should be kept carefully dry, and made as long as possible.

Loss of Electricity in Vacuo.-Electricity being retained at the surface of bodies through the bad conducting property of the air, when this latter is rarefied, the loss increases, and in a vacuo all the electricity is lost-at least, such is the theoretical result, though experiment does not altogether confirm it.

power and influence which they can possibly have over any man they derive from the active principles of his nature. We are, indeed, accustomed in popular language to say that external objects excite and inflame the mind; but in philosophical accuracy they are but the passive objects on which the affections and desires of the mind fasten, and their whole power of moving to action depends upon the strength of the inward affections of the soul. To render this perfectly plain to every mind, it will only be necessary to attend to a few familiar illustrations.

To a man who is under the influence of hunger or thirst, bread and water are said, when seen, greatly to excite him, so that he is strongly impelled to appropriate these objects to the craving wants of his nature. But every one sees at once that both the bread and the water are merely passive objects on which the appetite fixes. The real force which impels to action is not, therefore, the external object, but the inward desire which is in the soul itself. For where no appetite of hunger or thirst exists, the bread and water, however presented and urged upon the sense, produce no effect; there is no motive to action experienced.

Take another case. A man comes into a room where lies a pile of gold. Avarice urges him to seize the beloved object, and appropriate it to himself. Two desires or motives counteract the tendency of avarice; one is a sense of duty or regard to the dictate of consicence, which he knows ought to be obeyed; the other is a regard to reputation, or the good opinion of men. Between these two antagonistical principles, there must of course be a conflict. If avarice be strong, and the power of conscience and desire of the good opinion of men be comparatively weak, the consequence will be that the man will put forth his hand and take the gold, and at the same time will feel conscious that he is doing wrong. But if conscience be fully awake, and especially if a love of moral excellence and a hatred of iniquity have a place in his mind, this motive alone will be sufficient to induce him to reject at once the thought of appropriating what belongs to another. In this case it is evident that the gold on the table is altogether passive; there is no secret emanation from the inert metal. The whole power of gold to seduce the mind to evil depends on the strength of the principle of avarice within; and in a mind rightly constituted, or under the influence of good moral dispositions, it could never so prevail as to induce the person to do an unlawful act for the sake of obtaining it.

From these cases it is evident that a man is not governed by any influence from without or separate from himself, but that the true spring of his actions lies entirely in his own inclinations and will, external things have no other influence than as they furnish objects suited to his appetites and other desires.

Some writers on the will, in speaking of the governing power of motives, have expressed themselves in a manner which leads to the opinion that the motives by which the will is determined exist without us, or separate from ourselves, whereas those motives which possess an active power and govern our voluntary actions, are within us, and are our own active powers and affections, for which we are as responsible as for any other acts or operations of the mind. Hence it may truly be affirmed that every man possesses a self-determining power, by which he regulates and governs his own actions according to his own inclinations.

The other extreme in regard to this subject is, that the will possesses a self-determining power in itself, independent of all motives, and uninfluenced by any inclination. And it is AC-maintained that such a self-determining power is essential to freedom, and to the existence of an accountable moral agent. If, indeed, this last opinion were correct we should admit the self-determining power of the will, whether we understood its nature or not; for we lay it down as a first principle--from which we can no more depart than from the consciousness of existence-that MAN IS FREE; and therefore stand ready to embrace whatever is fairly included in the definition of freedom. But it is not yet made evident, or even probable, that

LESSONS IN MORAL SCIENCE-No. V. MAN'S DIRECTION AND GOVERNMENT OF HIS TIONS, AND HIS CONSEQUENT RESPONSIBILITY. THERE are two extremes to be avoided here. The first is that which considers man as, in some sense, a passive recipient of influences from without. He is represented as placed in certain circumstances and surrounded by certain objects, in the selection of which he has had no choice; and as he is susceptible of certain impressions which these circumstances

such a power exists, or that it is at all necessary to free moral agency, or that the possession of such a power would be

valuable or desirable.

All that is wanted is, to make the man the master of his own actions, and this is completely effected by giving him the power to will and to act in accordance with his own inclinations. Certainly a man is not the less accountable for his actions because they are in accordance with his desires. Every rational being acts with a view to some end, and his regard or affection for that end is the motive which governs his will and

influences his conduct.

It cannot justly be denied, and is generally admitted, that in most cases the determinations of the will are influenced by strong desires; and when such desires exist, and there are none leading in a contrary way, the decisions of the will are in fact determined by the previous state of the mind. Now if the prevalence of these desires in such cases is not found to interfere with free agency, there is no reason to think that the belief that the will is invariably determined by the strongest existing desire will lead to any conclusion unfavourable to liberty. If the self-determining power in question is exerted only in trivial cases where motives to action are weak, or when there is an equipoise of motives, it cannot be a power of any great consequence, since most of our moral acts are performed

without its aid.

Let us first take an impartial view of the acts of a man in the exercise of the power which all admit he possesses, and then of this imaginary power which some think essential to moral agency.

In the first case the man exercising his reason, apprehends objects which appear to him, on some account, good and desirable. These objects he desires to obtain, and puts forth those volitions which produce the actions requisite to the accomplishment of his object.

has power to determine in opposition to all existing motives,
and where there is a competition can act in conformity with
the weakest. Surely such a power is irrational and dangerous
in the extreme, and has no tendency to increase that freedom
which is requisite to a moral agent.

OBJECTIONS TO THE UNIFORM INFLUENCE OF
MOTIVES.

of motives on the will is, the intimate conviction every man
One of the most plausible objections to the uniform influence
has, when he has done what he regrets, that he could have
done otherwise; whereas, upon the hypothesis laid down
above, the man could not possibly, with the same motives,
have acted differently from what he did. And it is alleged
that no man ever would or could repent of his most criminal
conduct, were he persuaded that he could not have willed
and acted differently from what he did.

This objection brings out the true issue in this inquiry. The real question in dispute in regard to the will is, whether, all things external and internal being the same to any voluntary agent, the volitions will be the same. That is, whether a man in the same state of mind and under the influ ence of the same desires and motives, in kind and degree, will not always will and act in the same way. This we affirm; and the advocates of the self-determining power of the will, deny.

It is admitted that when a man has done wrong and is convinced of his error, he is deeply conscious that he might and should have acted differently. But when this conviction is analysed, it is found to be, not that he might have willed and acted differently with the same feelings that influenced him at the moment of doing wrong, but that he might and should have had a different state of feeling, or a more considerate attention to those things which were forgotten, but which if recollected would have prevented him from doing that which he now regrets.

In the second case the man feels an inclination leading him with more or less force to a certain object; but he has a power which he can at any time exert to arrest his action in the line of his inclinations, and by exerting this power of willing he can counteract any desire, and act in opposition to it. Or if two desires exist, he can by this power give the prevalence to that which is the weaker. The best way to bring this matter to the test of experience is to suppose a case in which such a power is exerted. Suppose the case of a man in whom, by habit and indulgence, the appetite for intoxicating drink is strong; but he is induced by weighty reasons derived from a sense of duty and a regard to his health, reputation, family, and temporal prosperity, to determine not to expose himself to temptation. An old companion calls and solicits him to go with him to a convivial meeting. His appetite strongly pleads for indulgence, if only for this one time; but conscience remonstrates, and a regard to health, reputation, and the like, operates strongly on the other side. Suppose the influence felt from these two opposite sources to be almost equally balanced; suppose even a perfect equipoise. Such a state of mind, though possible and frequently experienced, can never last long, for the states of the mind change in some respects every moment, and the least difference in the views of the subject would destroy the balance. But now is the time for the exercise of the power which determines without regard to motive. Suppose, while the scales are thus in equipoise, this power to be exerted, and the man determines in favour of self-denial. Why he did thus determine, seems to 'be a reasonable inquiry; but if this power exists, such a ques-on which responsibility rests, it is on the motive, that is, the tion is entirely irrelative. There was, according to the supposition, no reason or motive which influenced the determination. Here then is a case for our consideration: Is an action prompted by no motive, and performed without a view to any end, an accountable moral act? If this self-determining power exists, it may be exerted in opposition to the highest and best motives, and neither the person himself nor any body else can tell why it was exerted. If a man under the influence of love to his Creator, should be about to engage in the performance of some plain and important duty, the exertion of this power at the most unseasonable time might arrest his action and lead him to a contrary determination. Why would he exert such a power at such a time? That, indeed, is the question. But if any reason of any kind could 'be given it would destroy the hypothesis, which is that a man

Take a case. A man in an hour of levity, and under the influence of a degree of envy, speaks disrespectfully of a person whose character is worthy of esteem, and to whom he is under special obligation. Upon reflection he is truly sorry for what he said, candidly confesses his fault, and says that were he again placed in similar circumstances, he would not be guilty of the same fault. But suppose he should be asked whether, if the same degree of inattention, and the same envious feeling should again exist which characterised the state of his mind when he spoke unadvisedly, and no considerations should occur which were not then present to his mind, he is of opinion that he would act differently from what he did? Under such a view of the matter, few persons dare profess that they would act differently when placed in precisely the same circumstances. When we feel that we would and could act differently from what we have done in certain and specified circumstances, it is always on the supposition that our views and feelings should be different. If the person speaking disrespectfully of a friend is asked what would induce him to act differently, if the thing were to be done again, the natural and reasonable answer is, "I should think of the impropriety of the thing, and should recollect my obligations to the person; and other the like considerations." This shows that men feel accountable, not only for their volitions and actions, but for the views and feelings which precede volition. Indeed if there is one point above all others

active desires or affections of the mind from which volition proceeds, and by which it is governed. The murderer could easily abstain from murder, if he would repress his malignant feelings; but with the same spirit of malice and revenge which induced him to shed his brother's blood, and with the same absence of all other views and feelings than those which he had at the time, there is a moral certainty that he would commit the same crime again. Nor has this certainty, that unrestrained malice and revenge would again lead to the perpetration of the same horrid crime, the slightest tendency to alleviate the guilt of the murderer. The true ground of his culpability lies in his having and indulging such malignant tempers, and in voluntarily turning away his mind from all considerations of piety and humanity, which would restrain him from the cruel act. And here a question might arise

respecting a man's desires and affections, and the power which he has over them; but this is not the proper place for a discussion of that point.

Another objection which has been repeatedly urged, and which by many is considered unanswerable, is, that according to this hypothesis, when two things exactly equal, and viewed to be so, are presented to the choice of a rational being, it would be impossible to choose either. But every man (says the objectors) feels that he has the power, if two loaves of bread or two eggs exactly alike be presented, of choosing between them; and as there exists confessedly no motive for preferring one loaf or one egg to the other, therefore it is possible for the will to determine without a motive.

To this plausible objection it may be answered, that if the self-determining power of the will, independently of motives, be confined to cases in which there are no motives to turn the balance, it is a power of very little importance, and not worth disputing about. Let it be admitted that in such an equipoise of motives, the mind can determine in favour of either of the objects. But perhaps this will admit of a different solution, and one in accordance with the theory maintained. And let it be remarked, that it is not the similarity of external objects which should here be considered, but the view which the mind takes of them. We know how a fertile imagination may cast a grain into one of the balanced scales, and cause it to preponderate. But further, the state of mind supposed to be produced by objects of equal value is really felt for a moment. Between two things we hesitate, not being able to come to a decision; but this indecision arises not from a belief that the objects proposed are equal, but from a doubt which is preferable. When we are sure there is no difference, this hesitation is not experienced. The explanation which seems correct is the following: two guineas are laid before a poor man, and he is told to take which one he pleases. It cannot be necessary that he should think one better than the other. If such a preference were necessary, he would be unable to take either, and his situation would be comparable to the ass of the old Greek sophists, held immovable between two bundles of hay.

The difficulty supposed to exist in the case of two equal objects proposed for our choice, is perfectly imaginary; no difficulty or perplexity is ever experienced, when the things presented to our choice are known to be equal. It is only when we apprehend that there may be a difference between the objects offered that we hesitate. As if a person should offer to our choice two caskets, the contents of which are unknown; we find it difficult to choose, for the very reason that we suspect the one to be more valuable than the other, but are ignorant to which the greatest value attaches. And if we should be informed that one contained jewels of great price and the other nothing but baubles, our hesitancy would be accompanied with solicitude. But when we are certain that the things proposed to our choice are perfectly alike, in all respects, we experience no difficulty whatever. Suppose it to be first a single guinea which is offered to a needy beggar; he is moved by his feeling of want to take it. If instead of one, two guineas are offered, he experiences no difficulty in choosing, knowing them to be alike. But this furnishes no example of an action produced without a motive The question is, whether the man shall act or not; and the motive for action is strong, namely, the desire of relief. As he is at liberty to take but one, and there is no difference between them, he seizes that, which from one or more of a thousand slight reasons of nearness or convenience, it happens to him to choose, without any preference properly so called.

SUMMARY VIEW OF LIBERTY.

Man is conscious of liberty, and nothing can add to the certainty which he has, that he is a free agent. Objections to self-evident principles, however plausible, should not be regarded; for, in the nature of things, no reasonings can overthrow plain intuitive truths, as no reasonings can be founded on principles more certain. Though we may not be able to understand or explain with precision wherein treedom consists, yet this ignorance of its nature should not disturb our minds. We experience the same difficulty in regard to other truths of this class without any diminution of our assurance. We are conscious that we have a life—but what is life? neither we nor

any other human being can tell. But do we, because of this ignorance, doubt whether indeed we live? Not in the least. We know that we are free precisely in the same manner that we know that we are living beings, and no plausible reasonings should disturb us in the one case more than in the other. Again, if in attempting to explain what is essential to free agency, we should fall into any mistake, or conclude that something does not belong to it, which does, let it not be said that we deny the freedom of man; for while we may err in regard to our conception of its nature, we know that we cannot err in regard to the actual existence of freedom.

We are willing to attribute to man every kind and degree and a rational being; and if we deny what some think essenof liberty which can properly belong to a dependent creature tial to free agency, it is because in our view it would be no real privilege to possess such a power, as not being compatible with the laws by which rational creatures are governed. tions, and does govern them, according to his own desire. He It is admitted that man has power to govern his own volihas the liberty, within the limits of his power, to act as he pleases; and greater liberty, in our judgment, is inconceivable. To suppose, in addition to this, a power to act independen ly of all reasons and motives, would be to confer on him a power for the exercise of which he could never be accountable. It would be a faculty which would completely disqualify him from being the subject of moral government. In the nature of things, it would be impossible that a creature possessed of such a power could be so governed that his actions could be directed to any end.

One hypothesis makes man the master of his own actions, still a creature governed by understanding and choice. He may be misled by false appearances, and influenced by wrong motives, but is always governed by some reasons or motives. On the other hypothesis, a man may and does act without any inducement, and without being influenced by any reasons, to do what is contrary to all his inclinations and feeling. We cannot but think that, after all, the abettors of this scheme retain in their minds a certain obscure but lingering persuasion that the free agent feels some reason for acting as he does; and if so, the dispute is at an end, for whatever may be the consideration which induces a man to act in opposition to strong desire, it must be something which is felt by the mind to have force, and to be such a consideration as ought to influence a rational being.

Let us for still further elucidation again suppose a case in which this self-determining power is exerted.

A young man entrusted with the property of his employer, has by undue indulgence in amusements contracted debts which he is unable to pay. He sees a way by which he can appropriate to his own use some of the money in his hands his reputation is at stake, and he feels hunself imp lled by a without the possibility of discovery. His wants are urgent, powerful motive to the deed; and there are no motives to draw him in an opposite course but such as are derived from conscience and the fear of God. At the moment when about to perpetrate the felonious act, he pauses and resolves that he will not do it. The question is, has he not power to act thus? Is he not the arbiter of his own acts of will? Are we not all conscious that we possess such a power? There is no dispute about the power, if it only pleases the agent to exercise it. He is as free to abstain from embezzling what belongs unless some reason, motive, or moral feeling influence nim? to another, as to do it. The only question is, will he do it If so, then indeed it would be the exemplification of the power in question. But when we examine the case caresully, we shall be satisfied that where there is a powerful mo ive on one side, there must be a preponderating mouve on the other to prevent a volition in accordance with the first. Suppose the young man under the temptation mentioned to have mis mund free from all moral considerations, and to have no tear of injuring his reputation, what would restrain him? Or, if without any moral influence, or any other consideration, he should abstain, would there be any virtue in the act? To know whether an act is virtuous, we properly ask, why was it done? what was the motive of the agent? But here there is none, and consequently the act can have no moral character. if we suppose some faint remonstrance of conscience and

And

some slight fear of discovery, even these would not prevent the act where the contrary motives were urgent.

But suppose, now, this young man to have had a religious education, and to have been brought up to regard his reputation, and when the temptation is most powerful and he is in danger of yielding, conscience should utter her voice with power, and dictate imperatively that this is a deed which should not be done; and at the same time, a lively apprehension of disgrace should operate with a combined influence on his mind, would the operation of these motives in preventing the crime be less rational or less virtuous than if he should act without a motive?

LESSONS IN GREEK.-No. LI.

By JOHN R. Beard, D.D.

THE VOICES OP THE VERB.

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In the first instance the verb is transitive as well as active, because the action passes from the subject to an object. In the second instance the verb is intransitive, since it has no object, but the action limits itself to the subject; the forms of the verbs show that they are both in the active voice.

Generally every verb has either a transitive or an intransitive signification. But many verbs combine the two meanings, being sometimes transitive and sometimes intransitive. When the two imports unite in one verb, either the two run through all the forms, or they are limited, so that one signification belongs to this form, the other signification belongs to that form. In treating of the forms of the verb we have given an abundance of instances.

THE subject is most intimately connected with the verb. How intimately the subject is connected with the verb may be inferred from the fact, that so far as the unemphatic pronoun is considered, the subject and the verb blend together and become one word. The subject, indeed, is the vehicle of the action of the verb. The verb declares something, and that something is declared of the subject, which is thus seen to be the medium or channel for conveying the statement made by Of the verbs, however, in which the two, namely, the transithe verb. In the verb action appears, not in an abstract form, tive and the intransitive import, run through all the tenses; but a concrete form, that is, as limited to the particular sub-take as examples, exuv, to hold; åpμotteiv, to adapt ; Kλively, ject employed. Only in the infinitive mood is an abstract to lean; orpeper, to turn; òpμāv, to set in motion; relvalv, to affirmation made. stretch; and partε, to do.

From the subject of the affirmation we, therefore, naturally pass to that which is affirmed, for every affirmation consists of two parts, namely, what is said, and the person or thing of which it is said. Thus, I eat, is an affirmation, and into this affirmation two elements enter, namely, I, the subject, and eat, the verb. Now, in considering the verb of a simple sentence, we must ask how a verb may be modified, or under | what forms it may appear. If we consider the subject as merely the channel of the affirmation, we have the verb in what is called the active voice. If we consider the subject as re-acted upon, we find that such refex action may take place in two ways, either with an object or without an object. If the reflex action takes place with an object, then the verb is said to be in the passive voice. If the reflex action takes place without an object, then the verb is said to be in the middle voice. I put together examples of the

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Many transitive verbs become intransitive by combination with prepositions, as рockρovεLv, to dash against; añaλAaTTE, to depart; peraßadλev, to change; posẞaλλe, to add to; ewididoval, to increase; ovμμyvvval, to mingle.

Many verbs which have only a transitive meaning become intransitive by the omission of an easily understood obj ct; e.g.—rekeutāv (scil. rov Beov), to end (life), to die; exßaλλεiv and eževal (scil. ro vowp), to flow out, fali into; so with Ty orpariav understood, to invade; exauve with To doμa (a chariot), rov izrov (a horse), understood, to ma: ch, to advance; προςέχειν, understanding τον νουν or την γνωμην, to attend to, literally, to apply (one's mind) to.

The ensuing are the forms to which the intransitive meaning chiefly belongs; namely, the second perfect and its derivative the second pluperfect, which are intransitive not merely in the verbs which in the present have both significations, but also in other verbs which in the other tenses are employed only transitively. Of the first kind take as examples, reжpaya, I have found myself, I am; wεoηva, I have appeared, I prove; aveyya, I am open; ɛaya, I am broken As examples of the second sort take-ɛypnyopa, I am awakened, I watch; peμnva, I rage ; εῤῥωγα, I am broken, torn; πεποιθα, I trust ; πεπηγα, | I am fastened, I am firm, σεσηπα, I am rotten ; τετηκα, Γαν melted..

The intransitive import attaches also to the second aorist, the perfect and the pluperfect of ἱστημι, 1 place; δνω, Ι enclose; puw, I beget; which in the tenses mentioned signify I stand, I enter, I arise.

The student is prepared to find, as here, the form for the If, with intransitive verbs, the object is named by which the passive the same as the form for the middle voice of the pre-condition expressed in the verb is occasioned, then, as in the sent tense. The simple fact is, that the Greek verb is richer passive, that object is put in the genitive with the prepoin meaning than it is in form, though in form it is very rich. sition ύπο ; as The voices of the Greek verb bring under our consideration, the verb in regard to its kinds or sorts. Viewed in the rerelations which it bears to its subject, the Greek verb is of three kinds, or has three voices-the active, the passive, the middle.

But every affirmation has respect to time-the time when the declared fact took place. But time is grammatically expressed by tense. Accordingly we must consider the Greek verb in its tenses

Fur her, declarations or affirmations may be made in different ways. I may declare a tact simply and independently, and I may declare one fact in relation to another. Hence the manner in which affirmations are made demands attention, and so we are led to study the verb in its moods.

Intrans., with an object woλλa kaka exaloμev vño тwv \yorŵv we have suffered many things from robbers. the object is in the genitive with vπo, as Έκτωρ αποκτείνεται ύπο του Αχιλλέως Hector is slain by Achilles.

In the passive voice
Passive, with an object

By mo (Lat. sub), which signifies under, the subject is represented as suffering or undergoing something at the hands of the object, as if the subject were locally under that object. If, instead of this relation, you intend merely to mention the occasion through which an influence is exerted then you

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