A name was given to the male child at the time of its circumcision, but it is probable, previous to the introduction of that rite, that the name was given immediately after its birth. Among the orientals the appellations given as names are always significant. In the Old Testament, we find that the child was named in many instances from the circumstances of its birth, or from some peculiarities in the history of the family to which it belonged, Gen. xvi, 11; xix, 37; xxv, 25, 26; Exod. ii, 10; xviii, 3, 4. Frequently the name was a compound one, one part being the name of the Deity, and among idolatrous nations the name of an idol. The following instances may be mentioned among others, and may stand as specimens of the whole, namely, שמואל, _Samuel_, hear God;” אדניה, _Adonijah_, God is lord;” יהוצדק, _Josedech_, God is just;” אתבעל, _Ethbaal_, a Canaanitish name, the latter part of the compound being the name of the idol deity, Baal; בלשאצר, _Belshazzar_, Bel,” a Babylonish deity, is ruler and king.” Sometimes the name had a prophetic meaning, Gen. xvii, 15; Isa. vii, 14; viii, 3; Hos. i, 4, 6, 9; Matt. i, 21; Luke i, 13, 60, 63. In the later times names were selected from those of the progenitors of a family; hence in the New Testament hardly any other than ancient names occur, Matt. i, 12; Luke i, 61; iii, 23, &c. The inhabitants of the east very frequently change their names, and sometimes do it for very slight reasons. This accounts for the fact of so many persons having two names in Scripture, Ruth i, 20, 21; 1 Sam. xiv, 49; xxxi, 2; 1 Chron. x, 2; Judges vi, 32; vii, 1; 2 Sam. xxiii, 8. Kings and princes very often changed the names of those who held offices under them, particularly when they first attracted their notice, and ...were taken into their employ, and when subsequently they were elevated to some new station, and crowned with additional honours, Gen. xli, 45; xvii, 5; xxxii, 28; xxxv, 10; 2 Kings xxiii, 34, 35; xxiv, 17; Dan. i, 6; John i, 42; Mark iii, 17. Hence a name, a new name, occurs tropically, as a token or proof of distinction and honour in the following among other passages, Phil. ii, 9; Heb. i, 4; Rev. ii, 17. Sometimes the names of the dead were changed; for instance that of Abel, הבל, a word which signifies breath, or something transitory as a breath, given to him after his death, in allusion to the shortness of his life, Gen. ii, 8. Sometimes proper names are translated into other languages, losing their original form, while they preserve their signification. This appears to have been the case with the proper names, which occur in the first eleven chapters of Genesis, and which were translated into the Hebrew from a language still more ancient. The orientals in some instances, in order to distinguish themselves from others of the same name, added to their own name the name of their father, grandfather, and even great grandfather. The name of God often signifies God himself; sometimes his attributes collectively; sometimes his power and authority. Of the Messiah it is said, And he hath on his vesture and on his thigh a name written, King of kings, and Lord of lords,” Rev. xix, 16. In illustration of this it may be remarked, that it appears to have been an ancient custom among several nations, to adorn the images of their deities, princes, victors at their public games, and other eminent persons, with inscriptions expressive of their names, character, titles, or some circumstance which might contribute to their honour. There are several such images yet extant, with an inscription written either on the garment, or one of the thighs. Herodotus mentions two figures of Sesostris, king of Egypt, cut upon rocks in Ionia, after his conquest of that country, with the following inscription across the breast, extending from one shoulder to the other: I conquered this country by the force of my arms.” Gruter has published a naked statue made of marble, and supposed to represent the genius either of some Roman emperor, or of Antinöus, who was deified by Hadrian, with an inscription on the inside of the right thigh, written perpendicularly in Roman letters, and containing the names of three persons. Near the statue, on the same side of it, stands an oval shield with the names of two other persons written round the rim in letters of the same form. In the appendix to Dempster’s _Etruria Regalis_” is a female image of brass, clothed in a loose tunic down to the feet, with a shorter garment over it, on the right side of which is a perpendicular inscription in Etrurian characters, extending partly on the lower garment. This figure, from the diadem on the head, and other circumstances which accompany it, Philip Bonarota, the editor of that work, supposes to have been designed for some Etrurian deity. Montfaucon has given us a male image of the same metal, dressed in a tunic, and over that another vestment something like a Roman toga, reaching to the middle of the legs, on the bottom of which is an Etrurian inscription written horizontally. There are likewise in both those writers two male figures crowned with laurel, which Montfaucon calls combatants, as the laurel was an emblem of victory. But Bonarota takes one of them for an image of Apollo, which has a chain round the neck, a garment wrapped over the right arm, and a bracelet on the left, with half boots on the legs; the rest of the body being naked has an Etrurian inscription written downward in two lines on the inside of the left thigh. The other figure has the lower part of the body clothed in a loose vestment, with an inscription upon it over the right thigh, perpendicularly written in Roman letters, which Bonarota has thus expressed in a more distinct manner than they appear in Montfaucon: POMPONIO VIRIO I. To these may be added from Montfaucon, a marble statue of a naked combatant, with a fillet about his head in token of victory. It is drawn in two views, one exhibiting the back and the other the fore part of the body, the latter of which has in Greek letters, ΚΑΦΙΣΟΔΟΡΟΣ for ΚΑΦΙΣΟΔΩΡΟΣ, perpendicularly inscribed on the outside of the left thigh; and the former the name ΑΙΣΧΛΑΜΙΟΥ in the like characters and situation on the right thigh; these together make one inscription signifying _Caphisodorus filius Æschlamii_. [Caphisodorus the son of Æschlamius.]
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NAMES. Names, and the study of proper names of persons and places, are not without scientific and historical importance, but, on the whole, are perhaps rather matter of curious interest. It stands to reason that, even in the earliest societies of “articulate speaking men,” all known persons, places, and groups of human beings must have had names by which they could be spoken of and by which they were recognized. The study of these names and of their survival in civilization enables us in some cases to ascertain what peoples inhabited districts now tenanted by persons of far different speech. Thus the names of mountains and rivers in many parts of England are Celtic, —for example, to take familiar instances, Usk, Esk, and Avon. There are also local names (such as Mona, Monmouth, Mynwy, and others) which seem to be relics of tribes even older than the Celtic stocks, and “vestiges of non-Aryan people, whom the Celts found in possession both on the Continent and in the British Isles.” These are affairs of somewhat dubious conjecture, but it is certain enough that the Celtic names, with their mysterious and romantic sounds, do linger in English valleys like the last echoes of Arthur’s horn among the hollows of the hills. And it is no less certain that the English name is sometimes the mere translation, perhaps unconscious, of the earlier Celtic appellation, often added to the more ancient word. Penpole Point in Somerset is an obvious example of this redoubling of names. As to the meaning and nature of ancient local names, they are as a rule purely descriptive. A river is called by some word which merely signifies “the water”; a hill has a name which means no more than “the point,” “the peak,” “the castle.” Celtic names are often of a more romantic ...tone, as Ardnamurchan, “the promontory by the great ocean,” an admirable description of the bold and steep headland which breasts the wash of the Atlantic. As a general rule the surviving Celtic names, chiefly in Ireland, Wales, and Scotland, all contain some wide meaning of poetic appropriateness. The English names, on the other hand, commonly state some very simple fact, and very frequently do no more than denote property, such and such a town or hamlet, “ton” or “ham,” is the property of the Billings, Uffings, Tootings, or whoever the early English settlers in the district may have been. The same attachment to the idea of property is exhibited in even the local names of petty fields in English parishes. Occasionally one finds a bit of half humorous description, as when a sour, starved, and weedy plot is named “starvacre”; but more usually fields are known as “Thompson’s great field,” “Smith’s small field,” “the fouracre,” or the like. The name of some farmer or peasant owner or squatter of ancient date survives for centuries, attached to what was once his property. Thus the science of local names has a double historical value. The names indicate the various races (Celtic, Roman, and English in Great Britain) who have set in the form of names the seal of their possession on the soil. Again, the meanings of the names illustrate the characters of the various races. The Romans have left us names connected with camps (castra, chesters) and military roads; the English have used simple descriptions of the baldest kind, or have exhibited their attachment to the idea of property; the Celtic names (like those which the red men have left in America, or the blacks in Australia) are musical with poetic fancy, and filled with interest in the aspects and the sentiment of nature. Our race carries with it the ancient names of an older people into every continent, and titles perhaps originally given to places in the British Isles by men who had not yet learned to polish their weapons of flint may now be found in Australia, America, Africa, and the islands of the furthest seas.
Local names were originally imposed in a handy local manner. The settler or the group of cave-men styled the neighbouring river “the water,” the neighbouring hill “the peak,” and these terms often still survive in relics of tongues which can only be construed by the learned. The history of personal names is longer and more complex, but proceeds from beginnings almost as simple. But in personal names the complexity of-human character, and the gradual processes of tangling and disentangling the threads of varied human interest, soon come in, and personal names are not imposed once and for all. Each man in very early societies may have many names, in different characters and at different periods of his life. The oldest personal names which we need examine here are the names which indicate, not an individual, but a group, held together by the conscious sense or less conscious sentiment of kindred, or banded together for reasons of convenience. An examination of customs prevalent among the most widely separated races of Asia, Africa, Australia, and America proves that groups conceiving themselves to be originally of the same kin are generally styled by the name of some animal or other object (animate or inanimate) from which they claim descent. This object is known as the “totem,” from the Red-Indian word dodhaim. Of this topic it must here suffice to say that the earliest and most widely spread class and family names among uncivilized people are totemistic. The groups of supposed kin, however widely scattered in local distribution, are known as wolves, bears, turtles, suns, moons, cockatoos, reeds, and what not, according as each group claims descent from this or that stock, and wears a badge representing this or that animal, plant, or natural object. Unmistakable traces of the same habit of naming exist among Semitic and Teutonic races, and even among Greeks and Romans. The origin of this class of names cannot well be investigated in this place, but it may be observed that the names chosen are commonly those of objects which can be easily drawn in a rude yet recognizable way, and easily expressed in the language of gesture. In addition to the totem names (which indicate, in each example, supposed blood-kindred), local aggregates of men received local names. We hear of the “hill-men,” “the cave-men,” il the bush-men,” “the coast-men,” the “men of the plain,” precisely as in the old Attic divisions of Aktaioi, Pediaioi, and so forth. When a tribe comes to recognize its own unity, as a rule it calls itself by some term meaning simply “the men,” all other tribes being regarded as barbarous or inferior. Probably other neighbouring tribes also call themselves “the men” in another dialect or language, while the people in the neighbourhood are known by an opprobrious epithet, as Rakshasas among the early Aryan dwellers in India, or Eskimo (raw-eaters') in the. far north of the American continent.
Leaving tribal for personal names, we find that, among most uncivilized races, a name (derived from some incident or natural object) is given at the time of birth by the parents of each new-born infant. Occasionally the name is imposed before the child is born, and the proud parents call themselves father and mother of such an one before the expected infant sees the light. In most cases the name (the earliest name) denotes some phenomenon of nature; thus Dobrizhofer met in the forests a young man styled “Gold flower of day,” that is, “Dawn,” his father having been named “Sun.” Similar names are commonly given by the natives of Australia, while no names are more common among North-American Indians than those derived from sun, moon, cloud, and wind. This simple historical fact is very damaging to the mythological theories which resolve into solar or elemental myths all legends where the names of the characters can be philologically twisted into descriptions of natural phenomena. It is concluded that these myths originally described incidents in the life of clouds, winds, and tides, whereas names like those on which the theory depends are commonly applied by savage peoples to ordinary human beings. Marshal Saxe was not the sun because his mistress was named “Aurore,” and Cephalus and Procris were real persons to those who heard their story, although by a series of logical jumps their names may be interpreted as synonyms of the sun and the dew.
The names of savage persons are not permanent. The name first given is ordinarily changed (at the ceremony answering to confirmation in church) for some more appropriate and descriptive nickname, and that, again, is apt to be superseded by various “honour-giving names” derived from various exploits. The common superstition against being “named” has probably produced the custom by which each individual is addressed, when possible, by some wide term of kinship—“brother,” “father,” and the like. The bad luck which in Zulu customs as in Vedic myths attends the utterance of the real name is evaded by this system of addresses. Could we get a savage—an Iroquois, for example—to explain his titles, we would find that he is, say, “Morning Cloud” (by birth-name), “Hungry Wolf” (by confirmation name), “He that raises the white fellow’s scalp” (by honour-giving name), of the Crane totem (by family and hereditary name, as understood by ourselves). When society grows so permanent that male kinship and paternity are recognized, the custom of patronymics is introduced. The totem name gives place to a gentile name, itself probably a patronymic in form; or, as in Greece, the gentile name gives place to a local name, derived from the deme. Thus a Roman is called Caius; Julius is his gentile name (of the Julian clan); Caesar is a kind of hereditary nickname. A Greek is Thucydides (the name usually derived from the grandfather), the son of Olorus, of the deme of Halimusia.
This system of names answered the purposes of Greek and Roman civilization. In Europe, among the Teutonic races, the stock-names (probably totemistic in origin) survive in English local names, which speak of the “ton” or “ham” of "the Billings or Tootings. An examination of these names, as collected in Kemble’s Anglo-Saxons, proves that they were originally derived, as a rule, from animals and plants. Our English ancestors had for personal names compound words, as “Noble Wolf” (Ethelwulf), “Volf of War,” and so forth, and these names certainly testify to a somewhat primitive and fierce stage of society. Then came more vulgar nicknames and personal descriptions, as “Long,” “Brown,” “White,” and so forth. Other names are directly derived from the occupation or craft (Smith, Fowler, Sadler) of the man to whom they were given, and yet other names were derived from places. The noble and landowner was called “of” such and such a place (the German von, and French de), while the humbler man was called not “of” but “at” such a place, as in the name “Attewell,” or merely by the local name without the particle. If we add to these patronymics formed by the addition of “son,” and terms derived from Biblical characters (the latter adopted after the Reformation as a reaction against the names of saints in the calendar), we have almost exhausted the sources of modern English and European names. A continual development of custom can be traced, and the analysis of any man’s family and Christian names will lead us beyond history into the manners of races devoid of literary records. (a. l.)
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