And Sterne, as the elder Disraeli reminds us, in one of his multitudinous digressions from the life of “Tristram Shandy,” makes the progenitor of that young gentleman turn absolutely melancholy, as he conjures up a vision of all the men who
“might have done exceeding well in the world, had not their characters and spirits been totally depressed, and Nicodemas’d into nothing.”
Even Oliver Goldsmith cannot resist styling the knavish seller of green spectacles by a conjunction of Hebrew and English titles as Ephraim Jenkinson; and his servant, who acts the part of a Job Trotter (another Old Testament worthy, again) to his master, is, of course, Abraham!
But, oddly as such combinations strike upon the modern tympanum, what must not the effect have been in a day when a nickname was popular according as it was curt? How would men rub their eyes in sheer amazement, when such conjunctions as Ebedmelech Gastrell, or Epaphroditus Haughton, or Onesiphorus Dixey, were introduced to their notice, pronounced with all sesquipedalian fulness, following upon the very heels of a long epoch of traditional one-syllabled Ralphs, Hodges, Hicks, Wats, Phips, Bates, and Balls (Baldwin). Conceive the amazement at such registrations as these:
“1599, Sep. 23. Christened Aholiab, sonne of Michaell Nicolson, cordwainer.”—St. Peter, Cornhill.
“1569, June 1. Christened Ezekiell, sonne of Robert Pownall.”—Cant. Cath.
“1582, April 1. Christened Melchisadeck, sonne of Melchizadeck Bennet, poulter.”—St. Peter, Cornhill.
“1590, Dec. 20. Christened Abacucke, sonne of John Tailer.”—Ditto.
“1595, Nov. Christened Zabulon, sonne of John Griffin.”—Stepney.
“1603, Sep. 15. Buried Melchesideck King.”—Cant. Cath.