Speaking from a nomenclatural point of view, the name did not survive, for the last instance I have met with is that of Faithful Meakin, curate of Mobberley, Cheshire, in 1729 (Earwaker, “East Cheshire,” p. 99, n.). It had had a run of more than a century, however.
The reader will have observed that the majority of these names have become obsolete. The religious apathy of the early eighteenth century was against them. They seem to have made their way slowly westward. Certainly their latest representatives are to be found in the more retired villages of Gloucestershire and Devonshire. A few like Mercy, Faith, Hope, Charity, Grace, and Prudence, still survive, and will probably for ever command a certain amount of patronage; but they are much more popular in our religious story-books than the church registers. The absence of the rest is no great loss, I imagine.
(c.) Exhortatory Names.
The zealots of Elizabeth’s later days began to weary of names that merely made household words of the apostolic virtues. Many of these sobriquets had become popular among the unthinking and careless. They began to stamp their offspring with exhortatory sentences, pious ejaculations, brief professions of godly sorrow for sin, or exclamations of praise for mercies received. I am bound to confess, however, that the prevailing tone of these names is rather contradictory of the picture of gloomy sourness drawn by the facile pens of Macaulay and Walter Scott. ’Tis true, Anger and Wrath existed:
“1654. Wroth Rogers to be placed on the Commission of Scandalous Ministers.”—Scobell’s “Acts and Ord. Parl.,” 1658.
“1680, Dec. 22. Buried Anger Bull, packer.”—St. Dionis Backchurch.
I dare say he was familiarly termed Angry Bull, like “Savage Bear,” a gentleman of Kent who was living at the same time, mentioned elsewhere in these pages. Nevertheless, in the exhortatory names there is a general air of cheerful assurance.
The most celebrated name of this class is Praise-God Barebone. I cannot find his baptismal entry. A collection of verses was compiled by one Fear-God Barbon, of Daventry (Harleian M.S. 7332). This cannot have been his father, as we have evidence that the leatherseller was born about 1596, and, allowing his parent to be anything over twenty, the date would be too early for exhortatory names like Fear-God. We may presume, therefore, he was a brother. Two other brothers are said to have been entitled respectively, “Jesus-Christ-came-into-the-world-to-save Barebone,” and “If-Christ-had-not-died-for-thee-thou-hadst-been-damned Barebone.” I say “entitled,” for I doubt whether either received such a long string of words in baptism. Brook, in his “History of the Puritans,” implies they were; Hume says that both were adopted names, and adds, in regard to the latter, that his acquaintance were so wearied with its length, that they styled him by the last word as “Damned Barebone.” The editor of Notes and Queries (March 15, 1862) says that, “as his morals were not of the best,” this abbreviated form “appeared to suit him better than his entire baptismal prefix.” Whether the title was given at the font or adopted, there is no doubt that he was familiarly known as Dr. Damned Barebone. This was more curt than courteous.
Of Praise-God’s history little items have leaked out. He began life as a leatherseller in Fleet Street, and owned a house under the sign of the “Lock and Key,” in the parish of St. Dunstan-in-the-West. He was admitted a freeman of the Leathersellers’ Company, January 20, 1623. He was a Fifth Monarchy man, if a tract printed in 1654, entitled “A Declaration of several of the Churches of Christ, and Godly People, in and about the City of London,” etc., which mentions “the Church which walks with Mr. Barebone,” refers to him. This, however, may be Fear-God Barebone. Praise-God was imprisoned after the Restoration, but after a while released, and died, at the age of eighty or above, in obscurity. His life, which was not without its excitements, was spent in London, and possibly his baptismal entry will be found there.
A word or two about his surname. The elder Disraeli says (“Curiosities of Literature”)—