I now pass to Sir Walter Scott. It must be confessed that in the two books chosen for analysis—Guy Mannering and The Antiquary—he is disappointing as an artist in nomenclature. To begin with Guy Mannering, it is impossible to imagine why he gave such a name as Meg Merrilies to his magnificent heroine. It suggests “merry lies,” and makes us suspect that she was originally intended for a comic character. [23] And why, as she grew into a tragedy queen, he did not rename her I cannot understand. Fortunately he gave the colourless name Abel Sampson to another great character—the immortal Dominie. Again Dirk Hatteraick is a passable name. I cannot pretend to say whether it is a Dutch name, but as Dirk uses German (of a sort) when not speaking English, we may leave the question open. Among the names which are clearly bad are: Sir Thomas Kittlecourt, John Featherhead, Sloethorn (a wine merchant), Mortcloke the undertaker, Quid the tobacconist, Protocol the lawyer, and lastly the MacDingawaies, a Highland sept or clan.
The following seem to be bearable or fairly good, but I must confess to a want of instinct as to Scotch names: MacGuffog, a constable, Macbriar, Dandy Dinmont (although a dinmont is the Scottish for “a wedder in the second year”), MacCandlish. On the whole, as far as Guy Mannering is concerned, the author gets but few good marks and many bad ones.
The same is, I fear, true of The Antiquary. We find such bad names as Rev. Mr Blattergowl of Trotcosey (vol. i., p. 208); Baron von Blunderhaus; Dibble the gardener; Dousterswivel, the German or Dutch swindler; the Earl of Glengibber; Goldiword, a moneylender; Dr Heavysterne, from the Low Countries; Mr Mailsetter of the Post Office; Sandie Netherstanes the miller; Jonathan Oldbuck, the hero of the book; Sir Peter Pepperbrand of Glenstirym. Of the name Strathtudlem I cannot judge; it does not strike me as good, though possibly better than the immortal Tillietudlem of Old Mortality.
There are, of course, a number of names which do not offend, but there are few which are actually attractive. Among the last-named class are Edie Ochiltree, Francis of Fowlsheugh, Elspeth of Craigburnfoot, Lady Glenallan, Francie Macraw, Ailison Breck, but among these Edie Ochiltree is the only name which is undoubtedly in Class I.
It is disappointing to a lover of Sir Walter Scott to be obliged to show that as an artist in names he ranks low. But his sense of humour occasionally fails in other matters. I remember being reproved (when a young man at Cambridge) for saying that Scott showed a want of humour in Jeanie Deans’
letter to her father, in which she tells him that Effie has been pardoned. The author introduces in brackets: “Here follow some observations respecting the breed of cattle, and the produce of the dairy which it is our intention to forward to the Board of Agriculture.” I still think I was right, and that the eminent person who snubbed me was wrong.
Among the works of more modern writers I have analysed one of Trollope’s—the Small House at Allington. The names on the whole are harmless and normal, such as Christopher Dale of Allington; Adolphus Crosbie, the bad hero; Montgomerie Dobbs, his friend; Fothergill, factotum to the Duke of Omnium, and many others. Some names are only saved by our familiarity with them, e.g., Lady Dumbello or the above-mentioned Duke of Omnium. [25] Among the fanciful names Mr Fanfaron and Major Fiasco are in the bad rather than in the good class, though if they had more appropriateness they might be passed.
The positively bad names are numerous enough—the Marquis of Auldreekie; Basil and Pigskin, who keep a leather warehouse; Sir Raffle Buffle; Chumpend, a butcher; Lady Clandidlem; the Rev. John Joseph Jones is damned because he, an obvious Welshman, is described as of Jesus College at Cambridge instead of Oxford. Kissing and Love, two clerks in Johnny Eames’ office, might have been passed had not the author gone out of his way to refer to the lamentable jokes made in the office about them. Mr Optimist is an incredibly bad
name, and the same may be said of Sir Constant Outonites. The physician, Sir Omicron Pi, [26] may have a meaning of which I am ignorant. I think Thackeray would have spelled it Sir O’Micron Pye, which would have given a touch of reality.
There is one class of books which I have not noticed, namely, those in which all or nearly all the characters have names with an obvious meaning. The great instance of this type is Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, in which occur well-known names such as Mr Worldly Wiseman, Faithful, Mr Facing-both-Ways, Lord Desire-of-Vain-Glory, etc. There are two exceptions in The Pilgrim’s Progress, namely Demas, which is taken from 2 Timothy iv. 10, and Mnason (Acts xxi. 16).