“The patronymical name of the maid Was so completely overlaid With a long prenomical cover, That if each additional proper noun Was laid by the priest intensively down, Miss Susan was done uncommonly Brown, The moment the christening was over!”
Think of an infant’s being smothered for years in such a superfetation of names as that of the Neapolitan princess. It must require more mental energy than many babies can command, to break one’s way out of such a verbal palace prison as that.
“_Notre nom propre_,” says a French writer, “_c’est nous mêmes_.” The name of a man instantly recalls him to recollection, with his physical and moral qualities, and the remarkable events, if any, in his career. The few syllables forming it “suffice to reopen the fountain of a bereaved mother’s tears; to cover with blushes the face of the maiden who believes her secret about to be revealed; to agitate the heart of the lover; to light up in the eyes of an enemy the fire of rage, and to awaken in the breast of one separated by distance from his friend the liveliest emotions of hope or regret.” What would history or biography be without proper names; or what stimulus would men have, inciting them to the performance of great and noble deeds, if they could not live a second life in their names? Among most nations the imposition of names has been esteemed of such moment, that it has been attended with religious rites. The Jews accompanied it with circumcision; the Greeks and Romans with religious ceremonies and sacrifices; the Persians, after a religious service, chose at a venture from names written on slips of paper, and laid upon the Koran; while many Christians sanctify the rite by baptism.
It is a well established fact that all proper names were originally significant, though in the lapse of years the meaning of many of them has been obscured or obliterated. Thus, the oldest known name, Adam, meant “red,” indicating that his body was fashioned from the red earth; while Moses signified “drawn from the water.” So the fore-names of the Saxons were significant,--as Alfred, “all peace”; Biddulph, “the slayer of wolves”; Edmund, “truth-mouth,” or “the speaker of truth”; Edward, “truth-keeper”; Goddard, “honored of God.” It is said that Mr. Freeman, the English historian, has grown, in the course of his studies, so in love with the Old-English period, that he has named three of his children Ælfred, Eadward, and Æthelburgh. According to Verstegan, William was a name not given to children, but a title of honor given for noble or worthy deeds. When a German had killed a Roman, the golden helmet of the vanquished soldier was placed upon his head, and the victor was honored with the title Gildhelm, or “golden helmet,”--in French, _Guillaume_.