Surname Origins, Their Source and Significations (1875)

they must ever denote much of change, denote the changes more especially of Nature herself, which are slow in general, and require more than the test of four or five centuries to make their transitions apparent. Personal or Christian names vary almost less than these. The Western European system is set upon the same foundation, and whatever has been peculiar to separate countries has long since, by the intermingling of nations, whether peaceful or revolutionary, been added to the one common stock. Some indeed have fallen into disuse through crises of various kinds.A certain number, too, of a fanciful kind, as we have already seen, have been added within the last two centuries, but these latter have not of course affected our surnames. Nicknames, which form so large a proportion of our nomenclature, remain much the same; for a nation's tongue, while receiving a constantdeposit and throwing off ever a redundant phraseology, still, as a rule, does not touch these; they are taken from the deeper channel of a people's speech. But the fashion and custom of living is ever changing. New wants spring up, and old requirements become unneeded; fresh resources come to hand, and the more antique are at once despised and thrown aside. In a word, invention and discovery cast their shafts at the very heart of usage. Thus it is that we shall have such a large number of obsolete occupations to recount — occupations which but for our rolls even the oldest and most reliable of our less formal writings would have failed to preserve to us.

It is quite possible for the eye to light upon ham-lets in the more retired nooks and crannies of England that have undergone but little change during even the

SURNAMES OF OCCUPATION (COUNTRY).

last six centuries, hamlets of which we could say withGoldsmith:

How often have I paused on every charm,

The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm,

The never-failing brook, the busy mill,

The decent church that topped the neighbouring hill,

The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade,

For talking age and whispering lovers made.

I have seen, or I at least imagined I have seen, such a picture as this; but if there be, this of all times is that in which we must be prepared for a revolution. Our railways are every day but connecting us with the more inaccessible districts, following as they do the curves of our valleys, winding alongside our streams, like nature and art in parallel. As they thus increase they bear with them equally increased facilities for carrying the modernized surroundings and accessories of life on this, on that, and on every hand. Thus usage is everywhere fast giving way before utility, and thus in proportion as art and invention get elbow-room, so does the primitive poetry of our existence fade from view. We can remember villages — there are still such — around which time had flung a halo of so simple aspect, villages whose steads were grouped with so exquisite a quaintness, so utterly and beautifully irregular, so full of unexpected joints and curves, and all so thatched, and embrowned, and trellissed, that with the loss of them we have lost a pastoral. There may be indeed a certain poetry in model villas of undeviating line and exact altitude; there may be a beauty in an erection which reminds you in perpetuity of the great Euclidian truth that a straight line is that which lies evenly between its ex-