Is the Latin infinitive a “mood”?

Recently I found myself wondering about the Latin verb, and specifically the “mood” – indicative, subjunctive, imperative, and so on.  Partly this came about after I read a blog post on the Dyspepsia Generation blog, on “Latin by the Dowling method”, whatever that might be. The blog as a whole is a long-running US right-wing politics blog and aggregator, which is always to be found at, but often is not found in Google search results.  The author incidentally offered this advice:

With respect to verbs, whenever you see ‘mood’ pronounce it ‘mode’ out loud; eventually when you see ‘mood’ you will hear ‘mode’ in your head and the amount of confusion in your life will dramatically decrease. (If I ever find the guy who tagged this aspect of the verb with such a confusing name, I will smite him with a mighty smite.)

I confess that I often find “mood” a confusing label, and I think that’s quite a good precept.

Equally odd is the question of whether the infinitive is a mood or not.  If you use QuickLatin or Whitaker’s Words, you find it treated as if it is.  But a google search reveals disagreement.

Much of our Latin grammar vocabulary comes to us from antiquity.  So, in such cases, it can be illuminating to examine Donatus, the 4th century grammarian – and teacher of St Jerome – whose Ars Minor was a standard Latin teaching text for a millennium.  Intratext have the Latin here.  If we look in De Verbo, we find:

Modi qui sunt? Indicativus, ut lego, imperativus, ut lege, optativus, ut utinam legerem, coniunctivus, ut cum legam, infinitivus, ut legere, inpersonalis, ut legitur.

That’s pretty clear, but usefully there is a 1926 English translation, which is public domain and freely downloadable (for once) at Hathi here.[1]

Verbum quid est? Pars orationis cum tempore et persona sine casu aut agere aliquid aut pati aut neutrum significans. Verbo quot accidunt? Septem. Quae? Qualitas coniugatio genus numerus figura tempus persona. Qualitas verborum in quo est? In modis et in formis. Modi qui sunt? Indicativus, ut lego, imperativus, ut lege, optativus, ut utinam legerem, coniunctivus, ut cum legam, infinitivus, ut legere, inpersonalis, ut legitur. Formae verborum quot sunt? Quattuor. Quae? Perfecta, ut lego, meditativa, ut lecturio, frequentativa, ut lectito, inchoativa, ut fervesco calesco. Coniugationes verborum quot sunt? Tres. Quae? Prima secunda tertia. …

What is a verb? A part of speech with tense and person, without case, signifying “to perform some action,” or “to suffer,” or neither. How many attributes has the verb? Seven. What? Quality, conjugation, gender, number, inflection, tense, person. In what does the quality of verbs consist? In modes and in forms. What are the modes? Indicative, as lego; imperative, as lege; optative, as utinam legerem; subjunctive, as cum legam; infinitive, as legere; impersonal, as legitur. How many forms of verbs are there? Four. What? Undefined, as lego; desiderative, as lecturio; frequentative, as lectito; inchoative, as fervesco, calesco. How many conjugations of verbs are there? Three. What? First, second, third. …

How interesting to see that Donatus knows nothing of our “mood”; to him it is simply “mode”, just as the Dyspepsia Generation blogger suggested.  I wonder if perhaps our English word has suffered damage through the spelling and vowel changes that have affected our language since the 17th century, leaving behind a now-meaningless “mood” which was once simply “mode”?

Likewise we find that, for Donatus, the infinitive is indeed a “mode” or “mood”.  No doubt this is the origin of the tendency to so classify it in English, because it really doesn’t fit well with the indicative and subjunctive.

Before we leave Donatus, let’s take a quick look at a few remarks from the Noun, De nomine, the “name”:

Casus nominum quot sunt? Sex. Qui? Nominativus genetivus dativus accusativus vocativus ablativus. Per hos omnium generum nomina pronomina participia declinantur hoc modo:

magister nomen appellativum generis masculini numeri singularis figurae simplicis casus nominativi et vocativi, quod declinabitur sic: nominativo hic magister, genetivo huius magistri, dativo huic magistro, accusativo hunc magistrum, ablativo ab hoc magistro; et pluraliter nominativo hi magistri, genetivo horum magistrorum, dativo his magistris, accusativo hos magistros, vocativo o magistri, ablativo ab his magistris.

The cases of nouns are how many? Six. What? Nominative, genitive, dative, accusative, vocative, ablative. Through these, nouns, pronouns, and participles of all genders are declined in this way:

Magister is a common noun of masculine gender, singular number, simple form, nominative and vocative case, which will be declined thus: in the nominative, hie magister; in the genitive, huius magistri; in the dative, huic magistro; in the accusative, hunc magistrum; in the ablative, ab hoc magistro; and in the plural in the nominative, hi magistri; in the genitive, horum magistrorum; in the dative, his magistris; in the accusative, hos magistros; in the vocative, O magistri; in the ablative, ab his magistris.

Here again in English we have a funny word, “noun”, when Latin simply has “name”.

Those funny words like “nominative”, “vocative”… and “decline”; they are the Latin terms, brought straight across.

It’s fascinating to see.  These are examples of one of the commonest things in our world: many things in our own day make no sense at all, unless you happen to know just how they came about, and the path by which we came to them.

  1. [1]W. J. Chase, The Ars Minor of Donatus: For one thousand years the leading textbook of grammar.  translated from the Latin with introductory sketch, Madison (1926)

Beatitudines aliae, part 5


ϛʹ. Μακάριος ὁ | ἔχων | ἐν νῷ | τὴν ἡμέραν τὴν μέλλουσαν τὴν φοβερὰν | καὶ σπουδάσας ἰάσασθαι | ἐν δάκρυσι τὰ τραύματα τῆς ψυχῆς αὑτοῦ. (VI.  Beatus, qui mente versat formidabilem illam futuri judicii diem, & qui lacrymis vulnera animae suae curare studet.)

A slight change at the front: ὁ rather than ὃς, reflecting the fact that it is followed by a vowel.  But we still have “Blessed [is he] who” plus verb plus something it does.  We’re back to a participle, tho – “having” or better “keeping” – and then “ἐν νῷ”, “in mind”.

Then a bunch of accusatives with the definite article in between, as normal. The noun “τὴν ἡμέραν” = “the day”, its adjective “φοβερὰν” = “fearful”, and a present active participle in the same tense, number and gender, μέλλουσαν which might be given as “forthcoming”.  So: “Blessed [is he] who, keeping in mind the dreadful forthcoming day [of judgement]”?

Then into the main clause.  The word order that follows is the same as for English.  First a verb plus an infinitive: σπουδάσας is an aorist participle, active, masculine, nominative singular, “having been earnest”.  ἰάσασθαι is an aorist infinitive – presumably aorist in order to agree with σπουδάσας –  which means “to heal”. So: “and having been in earnest to heal”.

Then “ἐν δάκρυσι” the latter dative plural, so meaning “in tears”; “τὰ τραύματα”, accusative, so the object of the verbs, meaning “the wounds”.  Which wounds? Three words in the genetive singular follow: “τῆς ψυχῆς αὑτοῦ”, “of his soul”, understanding “psyche” as “soul”, as Traversari does.

But we have a problem.  There is actually no main verb.  Both clauses have an aorist participle as their verb.  This we would usually translate with an English simple past, but the aorist is not that simple. As one writer offers: “But when the aorist participle is related to an aorist main verb, the participle will often be contemporaneous (or simultaneous) to the action of the main verb” (but if the main verb is a present, the aorist will be a past tense).[1]

Traversari wimps out and renders both verbs as active present – “Blessed is he who keeps in mind … and is in earnest…”.  But that won’t do.

Morwood  tells us that the aorist is really about a single event, rather than about time.  Something happened.  The aorist indicative and its participles may place that event in the past, but even that is not always the case.[2]

I am not clear how to resolve this, so perhaps there is not alternative but to bodge it.  Doing so produces interesting effects.  If we try to insert a main verb somewhere, like “is”, it has to go in the first clause, and then the second clause must go into the present also: “Blessed is he who is keeping in mind xxx and has been in earnest to yyy”.  In fact I find that the second clause must be modified to an indicative, do what you will.  So perhaps this?

Blessed [is he] who has kept in mind the dreadful forthcoming day [of judgement], and has been in earnest to heal in tears the wounds of his soul.

Let me finish with a postscript.  While looking vainly for help on the two aorists, I encountered a most interesting looking book on sentence analysis, by none other than the excellent Eleanor Dickey, author of an essential book on Greek scholarship and scholia.  It is An Introduction to the Composition and Analysis of Greek Prose, Cambridge 2016.  There is a preview here.  Sadly the book is neither online, nor sold at a price that a man can afford.  Which is a pity.  Worth a look, if you can access it.

  1. [1]Daniel B. Wallace, The Basics of New Testament Syntax: An Intermediate Greek Grammar, Preview, or here, p.624.  The phrase is quoted by other writers, so clearly struck a chord.
  2. [2]Morwood, Oxford Grammar of Classical Greek, p.61.  Forms other than the aorist indicative and its participles convey no information on the time of the event.

Gaffiot’s massive Latin-French dictionary online; plus Du Cange’s medieval Latin glossary

A kind correspondent wrote today to supply some obscure words in the ancient catalogue of the Regions of Rome (and their monuments) attached to the Chronography of 354.  In the process I learned that a couple of really important dictionaries for Latin have come online in searchable form.

The first of these is Felix Gaffiot’s Dictionnaire Illustré Latin-Français of 1934, which was quite unknown to me despite its importance.  Various versions are online, as the Wikipedia article indicates – there is also a downloadable PDF -, but I used this one.  Gaffiot is good for very obscure words that other dictionaries do not include.  This had entries on such obscurities as “cochlis“, meaning a stair inside a column.

The second of these is Du Cange’s Glossarium mediae et infimae latinitatis, 1883-7, online here.  This is for medieval Latin.

I shall add both as links on the right-hand side in just a moment!