Magdalen, magnificent. So also among the Greeks, Stephen signifies a crown. Similarly, many names that became eminently Christian had been originally significative in the Pagan sense. Clovis or Lewis, signified man of excellent valour; Pharamond, true man; Charles, sweet and peaceful; Dagobert, renowned in arms; Chilperich, who has power to aid; Henry, valiant and honourable; Childebert, heroic.* In the Christian society, however, the use of names became far otherwise significative, as being given to children with an especial reference either to the saint who had borne them, and under whose patronage they were thereby placed, or to the festival on which they were born: and it is curious to remark, in spite of the continual systematic resistance on the part of some, who give Jewish or Pagan names, according to the extent of their infidelity, for what else is heresy ?—that even in separated countries, there are no names, ushering men into life, more familiar or popular than those which may directly relate to the saints or festivals of the holy Catholic and Roman Church. Some names, it is true, continued to be given as significative of internal qualities: as Godeliebe, the meaning of which is, dear to God; or as commemorative of some singular event, as Bonaventura, which was given to the child John of Fidanza, on occasion of his being cured by the prayers of St. Francis, who used this exclamation on hearing of it; or as being the names of sponsors in baptism, which was usual on the conversion of Jews, as in the instance cited by De la Roque, of Louis de Harcourt, Vicomte de Chastelleraut, lieutenant-general of King Charles VI., in Normandy, giving his name to a Jew in baptism: while some families sought to perpetuate relationship with remarkable men by taking their names, as that of Essex was often borne, in later times, in the Digby family; and that of Guy, in the house of Laval, from the seigneurie of which it was made inseparable by a privilege of Pope Paschal II., to perpetuate the memory of Guy IV., Baron of Laval, who rendered such services to Christendom in the holy war under Godefrey de Bouillon.+ But these examples only confirm the justice of the observation in general, respecting the facilities afforded to children, even in the names they bore, to trace their way back to the right road, if by birth they had been thrown at a distance from the Church; since, by universal consent, names possess this power to recall the memory of deeds and men. Though for every name there is not such a book as that by Marchantius, entitled Triumphus S. Joannis Baptistæ, dedi * De la Roque, Traité de l'Origine des Noms. † Ibid. cated to the monastery of St. John the Baptist, at Florins, with an address, "ad eos qui Joannis nomen gerunt," in which everything is collected that has reference to the Precursor, for the instruction of all who bear his name, and for all who belong to churches, or monasteries, or colleges placed under his invocation; or that which he composed on the name of Jane, in which he shows how many pious noble women bore it or that of Trithemius, abbot of Spanheim, De laudibus sanctissimæ matris Annæ, inviting all the faithful to invoke her holy patronage, observing the third feria in her honour, as Saturday in that of the blessed Virgin; and though some endeavour to substitute modern for ancient associations, as when Dryden, through animosity against Hunt and Shadwell, and as if to exhibit a counterpart to the thought of Stapleton in his book on the three Thomases, surmised that " dulness and clumsiness were fated to the name of Tom;" still it will ever be impossible to prevent Christian names from being intimately associated with Catholicism in its saints and festivals. Some daughters, it is true, separated by birth, might as well bear the ancient prenoms taken from colour, as Burra and Rutella, or have no name at all, like the Chinese daughters, as those of sweet holy women, for any bond which they learn to experience from hearing Lucy or Elizabeth; but the sign is no less held out to them, though they may neglect to read it; and wherever all history is not absolutely excluded, sooner or later the idea must suggest itself that they bear a name recalling some great and supereminent perfection which requires to be explained. St. Jerome, writing to Læta on the education of her daughter, desires that the first words she learns to pronounce should be the names of the Apostles or of the Patriarchs and Prophets; and, indeed, many holy writers recognise that power in the identity of names which was felt by the ancients, as when the Romans, on making peace with the Sabines, agreed, in order to form but one nation, to take each other's names in future. It would be long to specify the names which point significantly to the Church, as commemorative either of persons or doctrines; for among the latter may be classed such as recall angels, as that borne by him to whom St. Gregory sent an epistle, who had many associates in it, Angelo Patriciacus, Doge of Venice, and the Patriarch of Jerusalem; and Angelo de Victoria, the holy monk of Ferrara, and others: * and such as are formed of the name of Mary, conjointly with the title of some mystery, as that of Dolores, or some other taken from the festival of the blessed Virgin, nearest to which the child's * De la Cerda, De excellentia Coelestium Spirituum, c. 2. birth took place, according to the Spanish custom, to the prevalence of which so much contributed the institution of the sodalities by St. Philip Benitius, which were extended through all Europe and a great part of Asia. The successor of John II. on the throne of Portugal, surnamed the Great, from the glory of his reign, was called Emmanuel, from having been born on the festival of Corpus Christi, at the moment when the procession passed before the palace. Some names pointed at the saint whose memory was especially dear to certain provinces, when they were commonly borne by the people of all ranks, as Berenger and Raimon in Provence, Maurice and René in Anjou, Eude and Benigne in Burgundy, Thibaud and Eustache in Champagne, Baldwin in Flanders, Hugues and Enguerand in Picardy, and Gilbert in the Bourbonnois, Alain, Yoes, Rolland in Brittany, William, Richard, Robert, and Raoul in Normandy, William, Raimond, Bertrand, and Roger in Gascony, John Baptist in Genoa, and Patrick in Ireland. Sometimes the country itself was designated by the name of its first apostle, as parts of the Indies; and if we credit an ancient author, that of the Savoyards, who in gratitude to Sabandius, Bishop of Arles, who in 553 converted the Allobroges from idolatry to the Christian faith, assumed ever afterwards the name of their spiritual father.* Holy writers have not disdained to remark the tracks which we are now following. "It is common," says St. Thomas of Villanova," for all writers who seek to extol any one to begin by citing some great testimony in praise of his name, though whence this custom has arisen I know not. One can understand why a person should be commended for his own acts, or for his parents and family, or for his country, though this seems more strange, but to praise a name seems absurd, since it is given for slight causes, and belongs to good and evil alike. Nevertheless, this common opinion of men seems to originate in the idea that there lies hidden a certain mystery in a name, and that it is not imposed on men without a certain divine providence, and that it contains a certain prognostic and presage; God thus secretly ordaining that it should serve as a certain tacit vocation to man, which we often see verified ; as in Genesis, where it is said, recte vocatum est nomen ejus Jacob-and now also it often happens, that those parents who, renouncing Christian piety, give Pagan names to their children, find them afterwards become very like those whose names they bear, that is, impious and profane: nor can we suppose that those ancient Fathers would have been so careful in imposing names on their children, unless that the choice of a name had really some con * Du Port, Hist. de l'Eglise d'Arles, 143. nection with the future man."* That the influence of names was not unfelt by those who bore them, might be shown from express testimonies, of which one instance must suffice, taken from a name borne by twenty-four sovereign pontiffs, of whom some were martyrs. In Clairvaux, says Cæsar of Heislerbach, was a certain young monk, named John, who was a great lover of St. John the Baptist, having been born on the day of his nativity, and called after him in consequence. Whenever anything was sung respecting him in the office, as in the song of his father Zachariah, you could discern his affection by his voice; and one night, while singing that song, his countenance was so lighted up, that after matins, William, one of the monks, went to the prior Syger, and told him what he had remarked, and the prior was so moved that he interrogated the youth respecting what thoughts had occupied him during that interval.† In fine, we may remark, while observing the force of names, that those not alone of persons, but of a multitude of things surrounding children, can serve in the same manner to recall the glories of Catholicism in times past, or to awaken a wholesome anxiety to inquire for whole towns, and the streets of towns, bridges, and hospitals, inns and shops, mountains and forests, are named after saints, or holy mysteries associated with faith, and with the Christian history of every people. But it is not a name alone which points the way to the church, when children have been led astray in the intricate labyrinth of life, and left to what is called chance for guidance. "When I go to St. Mary Woolnoth," says an English author, "it seems the same, whether I turn down Lothbury, or go through the Old Jewry; but the going through one street and not another may produce an effect of lasting consequence." Many have proof of this in the events which have first directed them to the Catholic faith; those who would keep children far from it, having reason to tremble always and to suspect every turn; as a glance, a word, may undo what has been the labour of years. This road of childhood will lead through regions which we shall have to traverse shortly, following tracks under other titles; and therefore not to protract needlessly our way, let us leave it with a brief retrospect, which will unfold views that many may have enjoyed while following it under the difficulties presented by their birth. If, as in former times, men writing a history of their own lives, like Guibert de Nogent, were to be animated by the desire of the Psalmist when he said, Venite et audite, et narrabo * S. Thom. Vill. Serm. De Joan. Bapt. iii. + Illust. Mir. et Hist. Mem. lib. viii. c. 49. vobis omnes qui timetis Deum, quanta fecit Dominus animæ meæ, they would do well, perhaps, to dwell at greatest length on the instances presented in the guidance of their childhood. And here, disregarding the precept of the Pythagoræans, not to look back on setting out on a journey, the stranger, though reluctantly, is tempted to allude to puerile matters connected with a familiar instance when he was in flower, in past time of childhood; not as singular, on a path not often trod, but as recalling what others may have in part experienced. He knew not, like another, the year, or hour, or day when he first entered the labyrinth; but certainly through no fault of the best of parents, victims of circumstance like himself, it was by the darkest and most tangled parts that his feet first led him; albeit, old writers say that the zephyrs, with a most benign eye, are accustomed to regard the spot. There stretches through the midst of Ireland a range of long steep hills, whose southern head is crowned with an old castle, now in ruins, where an ancestor having with an armed force sped to the succour of a lady who was besieged in it by enemies, and as a reward secured her hand and barony, fixed there his seat, transferring to it from his native land a branch of a family that boasted of its Saxon blood. At the foot of that hill was nourished first the stranger's frame, when placed, as Charles d'Orleans says, Do "tout en la gouvernance De une dame que on appelloit Enfance." long avenues, vast heaths, solemn groves. "Fons etiam rivo dare nomen idoneus, ut nec Frigidior Thracam nec purior ambiat Hebrus."* There was near it, too, a most wild, solitary chapel, long in ruins, on whose broken walls, green with ivy, it was his joy to climb, and gaze upon the moors beyond, appearing deeper and deeper purple as the sun in wondrous glory went down upon them. Between chapel and castle, there was enough to inspire a child with interest in the past. Ruins surrounded him. On all sides he saw "Cypress and ivy, weed, and wall-flower, grown On what were chambers, arch crush'd, column strown * Hor. Epist. 16 |