This name is also found in St. Matthew, Friday Street, London.

Joy-in-Sorrow is the story of Rachel and Benoni over again:

Lamentation tells its own tale, unless taken from the title of one of the Old Testament books:

We have already mentioned Safe-on-high Hopkinson, christened at Salehurst in 1591, and Help-on-high Foxe, incumbent of Lydney, Gloucester, in 1661. The former died a few days after baptism, and the event seems to have been anticipated in the name selected.

The termination on-high was popular. Stand-fast-on-high Stringer dwelt at Crowhurst, in Sussex, about the year 1635, as will be proved shortly, and Aid-on-high is twice met with:

The three following are precatory, and we may infer that the life of either mother or child was endangered:

A monument at Cobham, Surrey, commemorates the third:

Still less hopeful of augury was the following:

What about him? His friends brought him forward as a case for the Commissioners of Lunacy to take in hand, on the ground that he was weak of intellect, and unfit to manage his business. It might be asked whether such a name was not likely to drive him to the state specified in the petition.

While on the subject of birth, we may notice that the Presbyterian clergy were determined to visit the sins of the parents on the children in cases of illegitimacy. A few instances must suffice:

This is more kindly, but an exceptional case:

(e.) General.

There is a batch of names which was especially common, and which hardly appears to be of Puritan origin; I mean names presaging good fortune. Doubtless, however, they were at first used, in a purely spiritual sense, of the soul’s prosperity; and afterwards, by more worldly minds, were referred to the good things of this life.

Fortune became a great favourite:

If Fortune meant fulness of years, it was attained in this last example.

Wealthy is equally curious:

The father of this Riches was also Riches, and was married to the daughter of John Nabs! (vide Blomefield, vi. 5).

Several names may be set in higgledy-piggledy fashion, for they belong to no class, and are sui generis.

Pleasant[55] is found several times:

The following, no doubt, had a political as well as spiritual allusion. It occurs several times in the New York Directory of the present year:

What a freak of fancy is commemorated in the following:

The Trinity in Unity were not held in proper reverence; for Trinity Langley fought in the army of Cromwell, while Unity Thornton (St. James, Piccadilly, 1680) and Unity Awdley (“Top. et. Gen.,” viii. 201) appear a little later:

Providence Hillershand died August 14, 1749, aged 72 (Bicknor, Gloucester). Providence was a he.

Biblical localities were much resorted to:

Nazareth Godden’s will was administrated upon in 1662. Battalion Shotbolt was defendant in a suit in the eleventh year of Queen Anne (Decree Rolls, Record Office). The following is odd:

V. A Scoffing World.

While these strange pranks were being played, the world was not asleep. Calamy seems to have discovered a source of melancholy satisfaction in the fact that the quaint names of his brethren were subjected to the raillery of a wicked world. One of the ejected ministers was Sabbath Clark, minister of Tarvin, Cheshire. Of him he writes:

Probably Calamy was referring to the “profane wit” Dr. Cosin, Bishop of Chester, who, in a visitation held at Warrington about the year 1643, is said to have acted as follows:—

That this was a deliberate insult, and not a pleasantry, Calamy, of course, would stoutly maintain. Hence the above sample of holy ire.

Many of the names in the list I have recorded must have met with the good-humoured raillery of the every-day folk the strangely stigmatized bearer might meet. I suppose in good time, however, the owner, and the people he was accustomed to mix with, got used to it. It is true they must have resorted, not unfrequently, to curter forms, much after the fashion of the now almost forgotten nick forms of the Plantagenet days. Fight-the-good-fight-of-faith is a very large mouthful, if you come to try it, and I dare say Mr. White or Brown, whoever he might be, did not so strongly urge as he ought to have done the gross impropriety of his friends recognizing him by the simple style of “Faith” or “Fight.” Fancy at a dinner, in a day that had not invented the convenient practice of calling a man by his surname, having to address a friend across the table, “Please, Fight-the-good-fight-of-faith, pass the pepper!” The thing was impossible. Even Help-on-high was found cumbersome, and, as we have seen, the Rector of Lydney curtailed it.

A curious instance of waggery anent this matter of length will be found in the register of St. Helen, Bishopgate. The entry is dated 1611, just the time when the dramatists were making fun of this Puritanic innovation, and when the custom was most popular:

This is confirmed by the burial records:

The reference, of course, is to Job ii. 8:

This was somewhat grim fun, though. Probably Job-rakt-out-of-the-asshes, during his brief life, would be styled by the curter title of “Ashes.” It is somewhat curious to notice that Camden, writing three years later, says Ashes existed. Perhaps this was the instance.

A similar instance of waggery is found in the parish church of Old Swinford, where the following entry occurs:—

Allowing the father to be thirty years of age, the paternal christening would take place in 1646, which would be a likely time in the political history of England for a mimical hit at Puritan eccentricity.

(a.) The Playwrights.

There is a capital scene in “The Ordinary” (1634), where Andrew Credulous, after trolling out a verse of nonsensical rhyme against the Puritan names, says to his friends Hearsay and Slicer, in allusion to these new long and uncouth names:

“Andrew the Great Turk?
I would I were a peppercorn, if that
It sounds not well. Doe’st not?
Slicer. Yes, very well.
Credulous. I’ll make it else great Andrew Mahomet,
Imperious Andrew Mahomet Credulous.
Tell me which name sounds best.
Hearsay. That’s as you speak ’em.
Credulous. Oatmealman Andrew! Andrew Oatmealman!
Hearsay. Ottoman, sir, you mean.
Credulous. Yes, Ottoman.”

“Oatmealman Andrew! Andrew Oatmealman!” seems to have suggested to Thomson that unfortunate line:

“O Sophonisba, Sophonisba O,”

so unkindly parodied into—

“O Jemmy Thomson, Jemmy Thomson O.”

From this quotation it will be seen that it is not to the church register alone we must turn, to discover the manner in which these new names were being received by the public. Calamy might wax wroth over the “profane wits” of the day, but one of the severest blows administered to the men he has undertaken to defend, came from his own side; for Thomas Adams, Rector of St. Benet, Paul’s Wharf, must unquestionably be placed, even by Calamy’s own testimony, among the Puritan clergy of his day. His name does not appear in the list of silenced clergy, and his works are dedicated to pronounced friends of the Noncomformist cause. In his “Meditations upon the Creed” (vol. iii. p. 213, edit. 1872), first published in 1629, he says—

I have quoted portions of this before. I have now given it in full, for it is trenchant, and full of common sense. Coming from the quarter it did, we cannot doubt it had its effect in throwing the practice into disfavour among the better orders. But there had been a continued battery going on from a foe by whose side Adams would have rather faced death than fight. Years before he wrote his own sentiments, the Puritan nomenclature had been roughly handled on the stage, and by such ruthless pens as Ben Jonson, Cowley, and Beaumont and Fletcher. A year before little Job-rakt-out-of-the-asshes was laid to rest, the sharp and unsparing sarcasm of “The Alchemist” and “Bartholomew Fair” had been levelled at these doings. The first of these two dramas Ben Jonson saw acted in 1610. By that time the custom was a generation old, and men who bore the godly but uncouth sobriquets were walking the streets, keeping shops, driving bargains, known, if not avoided, of all men. In 1610 Increase Brown, your apprentice, might be demanding an advance upon his wages, Help-on-high Jones might be imploring your patronage, while Search-the-Scriptures Robinson might be diligently studying his ledger to see how he could swell his total against you for tobacco and groceries. In 1610 society would be really awake to the fact that such things existed, and proceed to discuss this serio-comic matter in a comico-serious manner. The time was exactly ripe for the playwright, and it was the fate of the Presbyterians that the playwright was “rare Ben.”

In “The Alchemist” appears Ananias, a deacon, who is thus questioned by Subtle:

“What are you, sir?
Ananias. Please you, a servant of the exiled brethren,
That deal with widows’ and with orphans’ goods,
And make a just account unto the saints:
A deacon.
Subtle. O, you are sent from Master Wholesome,
Your teacher?
Ananias. From Tribulation Wholesome,
Our very zealous pastor.”

After accusing Ananias of being related to the “varlet that cozened the Apostles,” Subtle meets Tribulation himself, the Amsterdam pastor, whom he treats with scant courtesy:

“Nor shall you need to libel ’gainst the prelates,
And shorten so your ears against the hearing
Of the next wire-drawn grace. Nor of necessity
Rail against plays, to please the alderman
Whose daily custard you devour; nor lie
With zealous rage till you are hoarse. Not one
Of these so singular arts. Nor call yourselves
By name of Tribulation, Persecution,
Restraint, Long-patience, and such like, affected
By the whole family or wood of you,
Only for glory, and to catch the ear
Of your disciple.”

To which hard thrust Tribulation meekly makes response:

“Truly, sir, they are
Ways that the godly brethren have invented
For propagation of the glorious cause.”

Every word of this harangue of Subtle’s would tell upon a sympathetic audience. So popular was the play itself, that a common street song was made out of it, the first verse of which we find Credulous singing in “The Ordinary:”

“My name’s not Tribulation,
Nor holy Ananias;
I was baptized in fashion,
Our vicar did hold bias.”[57]
Act iv. sc. 1.

This comedy appeared twenty years after “The Alchemist,” and yet the song was still popular. Many a lad with a Puritan name must have had these rhymes flung into his teeth. Tribulation, by the way, is one of the names given in Camden’s list, written four years later than Ben Jonson’s play. This name, which has been the object of an antiquary’s, a playwright’s, a ballad-monger’s and an historian’s ridicule (for Macaulay had his fling at it), curiously enough I have not found in the registers. But its equivalent, Lamentation, occurs, as we have seen, in the “Chancery Suits” (1590-1600), in the case of Lamentation Chapman. Restraint is met by Abstinence Pougher, and Persecution by Trial Travis (C. S. P. 1619, June 7).

Still more severe, again, is this same dramatist in “Bartholomew Fair,” which was performed in London, October, 1614, by the retinue of Lady Elizabeth, James’s daughter. Pouring ridicule upon the butt of the day, whose name of “Puritan” was by-and-by to be anagrammatized into “a turnip,” from the cropped roundness of his head, this drama became the play-goers’ favourite. It was suppressed during the Commonwealth, and one of the first to be revived at the Restoration.[58] The king is said to have given special orders for its performance. Whether his grandfather liked it as much may be doubted, for it once or twice touches on doctrinal points, and James thought he had a special gift for theology.

Zeal-of-the-land Busy is a Banbury man, which town was then even more celebrated for Puritans than cakes. Caster, in “The Ordinary,” says—

“I’ll send some forty thousand unto Paul’s:
Build a cathedral next in Banbury:
Give organs to each parish in the kingdom.”

Zeal-of-the-land is thus inquired of by Winwife:

All this would be caviare to the Cavalier, and it is doubtful whether he did not enjoy it more than his grandparents, who could but laugh at it as a hit religious, rather than political. The allusion to witnesses reminds us of Corporal Oath, who in “The Puritan,” published in 1607 (Act ii. sc. 3), rails at the zealots for the mild character of their ejaculations. The expression “Oh!” was the most terrible expletive they permitted themselves to indulge in, and some even shook their heads at a brother who had thus far committed himself:

“Why! has the devil possessed you, that you swear no better,
You half-christened c——s, you un-godmothered varlets?”

The terms godfather and godmother were rejected by the disaffected clergy, and they would have the answer made in the name of the sponsors, not the child. Hence they styled them witnesses.

In “Women Pleased,” a tragi-comedy, written, as is generally concluded, by Fletcher alone about the year 1616, we find the customary foe of maypoles addressing the hobby:

“I renounce it,
And put the beast off thus, the beast polluted.
And now no more shall Hope-on-high Bomby
Follow the painted pipes of worldly pleasures,
And with the wicked dance the Devil’s measures:
Away, thou pampered jade of vanity!”

Here, again, is no exaggeration of name, for we have Help-on-high Foxe to face Hope-on-high Bomby. The Rector of Lydney would be about twenty-five when this play was written, and may have suggested himself the sobriquet. The names are all but identical.

From “Women Pleased” and Fletcher to “Cutter of Coleman Street” and Cowley is a wide jump, but we must make it to complete our quotations from the playwrights. Although brought out after the Restoration, the fun about names was not yet played out. The scene is laid in London in 1658. This comedy was sorely resented by the zealots, and led the author to defend himself in his preface. He says that he has been accused of “prophaneness:”

This must have been more trying to bear even than Cutter himself. Under a thin disguise, Colonel Fear-the-Lord Barebottle is none other than Praise-God Barebone, of then most recent notoriety. Cowley’s allusion to him through the medium of Jolly is not pleasant:

Cutter turns zealot, and wears a most puritanical habit. To the colonel’s widow, Mistress Tabitha Barebottle, he says—

But Cutter—we beg his pardon, Abednego—was but a sorry convert. Having lapsed into a worldly mind again, he thus addresses Tabitha:

I fancy the reader will agree with me that Cowley needed all the arguments he could urge in his preface to meet the charge of irreverence.

(b.) The Sussex Jury.

One of the strongest indictments to be found against this phase of Puritanic eccentricity is to be found in Hume’s well-known quotation from Brome’s “Travels into England”—a quotation which has caused much angry contention. The book quoted by the historian is entitled “Travels over England, Scotland, and Wales, by James Brome, M.A., Rector of Cheriton, in Kent.” Writing soon after the Restoration, Mr. Brome says (p. 279)—

A second list in the British Museum Mr. Lower considers to be of a somewhat earlier date. We will set them side by side:

I dare say ninety-five per cent. of readers of Hume’s “History of England” have thought this list of Sussex jurors a silly and extravagant hoax. They are “either a forgery or a joke,” says an indignant writer in Notes and Queries. Hume himself speaks of them as names adopted by converts, evidently unaware that these sobriquets were all but invariably affixed at the font. The truth of the matter is this. The names are real enough; the panel is not necessarily so. They are a collection of names existing in several Sussex villages at one and the same time. Everything vouches for their authenticity. The list was printed by Brome while the majority must be supposed still to be living; the villages in which they resided are given, the very villages whose registers we now turn to for Puritanic examples, with the certainty of unearthing them; above all, some of the names can be “run down” even now. Accepted or Approved Frewen, of Northiam, we have already referred to. Free-gift Mabbs, of Chiddingly, is met by the following entry from Chiddingly Church:

The will of Redeemed Compton, of Battle, was proved in London in 1641. Restore Weeks, of Cuckfield, is, no doubt, the individual who got married not far away, in Chiddingly Church:

“Increase Weeks, of Cuckfield,” may therefore be accepted as proven, especially as I have shown Increase to be a favourite Puritan name. These two would be brothers, or perchance father and son. As for the other names, the majority have already figured in this chapter. Fly-fornication is still found in Waldron register, though the surname is a different one. Return, Faint-not, Much-mercy, Be-thankful, Repentance, Safe-on-high, Renewed, and More-fruit, all have had their duplicates in the pages preceding. “Fight-the-good-fight-of-faith White, of Emer,” is the only unlikely sobriquet left to be dealt with. Thomas Adams, in his “Meditations upon the Creed,” in a passage already quoted, testified to its existence in 1629. The conclusion is irresistible: the names are authentic, and the panel may have been.

(c.) Royalists with Puritan Names.

It may be asked whether or not the world went beyond scoffing. Was the stigma of a Puritan name a hindrance to the worldly advancement of the bearer? It is pleasant, in contradiction of any such theory, to quote the following:—

In a second appeal made March, 1664 (C. S. P.), Arise reminds Charles of many “noble acts” done for him as a personal attendant during his exile.

Thus it will be seen that, in the general rush for places of preferment at the Restoration, there were men and women bearing names of the most marked Puritanism, who did not hesitate to forward their appeals with the Williams and Richards of the world at large. They manifestly did not suppose their sobriquets would be any bar to preferment. One of them, too, had been body-man to Charles in his exile, and another had suffered in person and estate as a devoted adherent of royalty. We may hope and trust, therefore, that all this scoffing was of a good-humoured character.

It was, doubtless, the prejudice against Puritan eccentricity that introduced civil titles as font names into England—a class specially condemned by Cartwright and his friends. At any rate, they are contemporary with the excesses of fanatic nomenclature, and are found just in the districts where the latter predominated. Squire must have arisen before Elizabeth died:

Duke was the christian name of Captain Wyvill, a fervent loyalist, and grandson of Sir Marmaduke Wyvill, Bart., of Constable Burton, Yorkshire:

Squire passed over the Atlantic, and is frequently to be seen in the States; so that if men may not squire themselves at the end of their names in the great republic, they may at the beginning.

Yorkshire and Lancashire are the great centres for this class of names on English soil. Squire is found on every page of the West Riding Directory, such entries as Squire Jagger, Squire Whitley, Squire Hind, Squire Hardy, or Squire Chapman being of the commonest occurrence. Duke is also a favourite, Duke Redmayne and Duke Oldroyd meeting my eye after turning but half a dozen pages. But the great rival of Squire is Major. There is a kind of martial, if not braggadocio, air about the very sound, which has taken the ear of the Yorkshire folk. Close together I light upon Major Pullen, farmer; Major Wold, farmer; Major Smith, sexton; Major Marshall, ironmonger. Other illustrations are Prince Jewitt, Earl Moore, Marshall Stewart, and Admiral Fletcher. This custom has led to awkwardnesses. There was living at Burley, near Leeds, a short time ago, a “Sir Robert Peel.” In the same way “Earl Grey” is found. Sir Isaac Newton was living not long ago in the parish of Soho, London. Robinson Cruso still survives, hale and hearty, at King’s Lynn, and Dean Swift is far from dead, as the West Riding Directory proves.

It was an odd idea that suggested “Shorter.” I have five instances of it, two from the Westminster Abbey registers:

Junior is found so early as 1657:

Little is similarly used. Little Midgley in the West Riding Directory is scarcely a happy conjunction. In the same town are to be seen John Berry, side by side with “Young John Berry,” and Allen Mawson, with Young Allen Mawson.

VI. Bunyan’s Debt to the Puritans.

But if the Sussex jury was not visionary, except for the panel, neither was that at Mansoul! What a text is this for the next biographer of Bunyan, if he have the courage to enter upon it! To suggest that the great dreamer was not a reprobate in his youth, and thus spoil the contrast between his converted and unconverted life, was a perilous act on Lord Macaulay’s part. To insinuate that he had a not altogether unpleasant time of it in the Bedford gaol, that he could have his friends to visit him, and, on the face of it, ink, paper, and quills to set down his meditations, even this is enough to set a section of political and religious society about our ears. But to hint that his character names were not wholly the offspring of his imagination, not thought out in the isolation of his dreary captivity, and not pictured in his brain, while his brain-pan was lying upon a hard and comfortless pallet—this, I know, not very long ago would have brought a mob about me! In the present day, I shall only be smiled upon with contempt, and condemned to a righteous ignominy by the superior judgment of the worshippers of John Bunyan!

Nevertheless I ask, were the great mass of Bunyan’s character names the creation of his own brain, or were they suggested by the nomenclature of his friends or neighbours in the days of his youth? It is the peculiarity of the names in the “Pilgrim’s Progress” and “Siege of Mansoul,” that they suggest the incidents of which the bearers are the heroes. But, in a large proportion of cases, these names already existed. Born in 1628, Bunyan saw Puritan character names at their climax. Living at Elstow, he was within the limits of the district most addicted to the practice. He had seen Christian and Hopeful, Christiana and Mercy, of necessity long before he was “haled to prison” at Bedford. The four fair damsels, Discretion, Piety, Charity, and Prudence, may and must have in part been his companions in his boyish rambles years before he met them in the Valley of Humiliation; and if afterwards, in the Siege of Mansoul, he turned Charity into a man, he was only doing what godfathers and godmothers had been doing for thirty years previously. The name and sweet character of Faithful might be a personal reminiscence, good Father Honest a quondam host on one of his preaching expeditions, and Standfast, “that right good pilgrim,” an old Pædo-Baptist of his acquaintance. The shepherds Watchful, Sincere, and Experience, if not Knowledge, were known of all men, in less pastoral avocations. And as for the men that were panelled in the trial of the Diabolonians, we might set them side by side with the Sussex jury, and certainly the contrast for oddity would be in favour of the cricketing county. Messrs. Belief, True-heart, Upright, Hate-bad, Love-God, See-truth, Heavenly-mind, Thankful, Good-work, Zeal-for-God, and Humble have all, or well-nigh all, been quoted in this chapter, as registered by the church clerk a generation before Do-right, the town-clerk of Mansoul, called them over in court. “Do-right” himself is met by “Do-good,” and the witness “Search-truth” by “Search-the-Scriptures.” Even “Giant Despair” may have suffered convulsions in teething in the world of fact, before his fits took him in the world of dreams; and his wife “Diffidence” will be found, I doubt not, to have been at large before Bunyan “laid him down in a den.” Where names of evil repute come—and they are many—we do not expect to see their duplicates in the flesh. Graceless, Love-lust, Live-loose, Hold-the-world, and Talkative were not names for the Puritan, but their contraries were. Grace meets the case of Grace-less, Love-lust may be set by “Fly-fornication,” and Live-loose by “Live-well” or “Continent.” Hold-the-world is directly suggested by the favourite “Safe-on-high;” Talkative, by “Silence.”

That John Bunyan is under debt to the Puritans for many of his characters must be unquestionable; and were he living now, or could we interview him where he is, I do not doubt we could extract from him, good honest man, the ready admission that in the names of the personages that flit before us in his unapproachable allegory, and which have charmed the fancy of old and young for so many generations, he was merely stereotyping the recollections of childhood, and commemorating, so far as sobriquets were concerned, the companionships of earlier years.

VII. The Influence of Puritanism on American Nomenclature.

Baptismal nomenclature to-day in the United States, especially in the old settlements, bears stronger impressions of the Puritan epoch than the English. Their ancestors were Puritans, who had fled England for conscience’ sake. Their life, too, in the West was for generations primitive, almost patriarchal, in its simplicity. There was no bantering scorn of a wicked world to face; there was no deliberate effort made by any part of the community to restore the old names. To this day the impress remains. Take up a story of backwood life, such as American female writers affect so much, and it will be inscribed “Faith Gartney’s Girlhood,” or “Prudence Palfrey.” All the children that figure in these tales are “Truth,” or “Patience,” or “Charity,” or “Hope.” The true descendants of the early settlers are, to a man, woman, and child, even now bearers of names either from the abstract Christian graces or the narratives of Holy Scripture. Of course, the constant tide of immigration that has set in has been gradually telling against Puritan traditions. The grotesque in name selection, too, has gone further in some of the more retired and inaccessible districts of the States than the eastern border, or in England generally, where social restraints and the demands of custom are still respected. If we are to believe American authorities, there are localities where humour has certainly become grim, and the solemn rite of baptism somewhat burlesqued by a selection of names which throw into the shade even Puritan eccentricity.

Look at the names of some of the earliest settlers of whom we have any authentic knowledge. We may mention the Mayflower first. In 1620 the emigrants by this vessel founded New Plymouth. This led to the planting of other colonies. Among the passengers were a girl named Desire Minter, a direct translation of Desiderata, which had just become popular in England; William Brewster, the ruling elder; his son Love Brewster, who married, settled, and died there in 1650, leaving four children; and a younger son, Wrestling Brewster. The daughters had evidently been left in England till a comfortable home could be found for them, for next year there arrived at New Plymouth, in the Ann and Little James, Fear Brewster and Patience Brewster. Patience very soon married Thomas Prince, one of the first governors. On this same memorable journey of the Mayflower came also Remember, daughter of Isaac Allerton, first assistant to the new governor; Resolved White, who married and left five children in the colony; and Humility Cooper, who by-and-by returned to England.

A little later on, in the Ann and Little James, again came Manasseh Faunce and Experience Mitchell. In a “List of Living” in Virginia, made February 16, 1623, is Peaceable Sherwood. In a “muster” taken January 30, 1624, occur Revolt Morcock and Amity Waine.

There is a conversation in “The Ordinary”—a drama written in 1634 or 1635, by Cartwright, the man whose “body was as handsome as his soul,” as Langbaine has it—which may be quoted here. Hearsay says—

“London air,
Methinks, begins to be too hot for us.
Slicer. There is no longer tarrying here: let’s swear
Fidelity to one another, and
So resolve for New England.
Hearsay. ’Tis but getting
A little pigeon-hole reformed ruff——
Slicer. Forcing our beards into th’ orthodox bent——
Shape. Nosing a little treason ’gainst the king,
Bark something at the bishops, and we shall
Be easily received.”
Act iv. sc. 5.

It is interesting to remember that 1635, when this was written, saw the high tide of Puritan emigration. The list of passengers that have come down to us prove it. After that date the names cease to represent the sterner spirit of revolt against episcopacy and the Star Chamber.

In the ship Francis, from Ipswich, April 30, 1634, came Just Houlding. In the Elizabeth, landed April 17, 1635, Hope-still Foster and Patience Foster. From the good barque James, July 13, 1635, set foot on shore Remembrance Tybbott. In the Hercules sailed hither, in 1634, Comfort Starre, “chirurgeon.” In 1635 settled Patient White. In a book of entry, dated April 12, 1632, is registered Perseverance Greene, as one who is to be passed on to New England.

Such names as Constant Wood, Temperance Hall, Charity Hickman, Fayth Clearke, or Grace Newell, I simply record and pass on. That these names were perpetuated is clear. The older States teem with them now; American story-books for girls are full of them. Humility Cooper, of 1620, is met by an entry of burial in St. Michael’s, Barbados: