"This Absolon, that jolif was and gay,
Gooth with a sencer (censer) on the haliday."

(A, 3339.)

"Prynne, now Pring, is Anglo-Fr. le prin, the first, from the Old French adjective which survives in printemps. Cf. our name Prime and the French name Premier. The Old French adjective Gent, now replaced by gentil, generally means slender in Mid. English—

"Fair was this yonge wyf, and therwithal
As any wezele hir body gent and smal."

(A, 3233)

Petty and Pettit are variant forms of Fr. petit, small. In Prowse and Prout we have the nominative and objective (Chapter I) of an Old French adjective now represented by preux and prude, generally thought to be related in some way to Lat. pro in prosum, and perhaps also the source of our Proud.

Gross is of course Fr. le gros, but Grote represents Du. groot, great, probably unconnected with the French word. The Devonshire name Coffin, which is found in that county in the twelfth century, is the same as Caffyn, perhaps representing Fr. Chauvin, bald, the name of the theologian whom we know better in the latinized form Calvin. Here belongs probably Shovel, Fr. Chauvel. We also have the simple Chaffe, Old Fr. chauf (chauve), bald. Gaylard, sometimes made into the imitative Gaylord, is Fr. gaillard, brisk, lively

"Gaillard he was as goldfynch in the shawe."

(A, 4367.)

   

 

   

COLOUR NAMES

Especially common are colour nicknames, generally due to the complexion, but sometimes to the garb. As we have already seen (Chapter XV), Black and its variant Blake sometimes mean pale. Blagg is the same word; cf. Jagg for Jack. White has no doubt been reinforced by wight, valiant

"Oh for one hour of Wallace wight
Or well-skilled Bruce to rule the fight."

(Marmion, vi. 20.)

 

As an epithet applied to the hair we often find Hoar; cf. Horlock. Redd is rare, the usual forms being the northern Reid, Reed, Read; but we also have Rudd from Anglo-Sax. rud, whence ruddy and the name Ruddock, really a bird nickname, the redbreast. To these must be added Rudge, Fr. rouge, Rouse, Rush and Russ, Fr, roux, and Russell or Rowsell, Old Fr. roussel (Rousseau). The commonest nickname for a fair-haired person was Blunt, Blount, Fr. blond, with its dim. Blundell, but the true English name is Fairfax, from Anglo-Sax. feax, hair. The New English Dictionary quotes from the fifteenth century

"Then they lowsyd hur feyre faxe,
That was yelowe as the waxe."

The adjective dun was once a regular name, like Dobbin or Dapple, for a cart-horse; hence the name of the old rural sport "Dun in the mire"—

"If thou art dun we'll draw thee from the mire." (Romeo and Juliet, i. 4.)

It is possible that the name Dunn is sometimes due to this specific application of the word. The colour blue appears as Blew

"At last he rose, and twitch'd his mantle blew:
To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new"

(Lycidas, 1. 192)—

and earlier still as Blow—

"Blak, blo, grenysh, swartysh, reed."

(House of Fame, iii. 557.)

Other colour names of French origin are Morel, swarthy, like a Moor, also found as Murrell [Footnote: This, like Merrill, is sometimes from Muriel.]; and Burnell, Burnett, dims. of brun, brown. Chaucer speaks of—

"Daun Burnet the asse" (B, 4502);

[Footnote: Lat. dominus; the masculine form of dame in Old French.]

"Daun Russel the fox" (B, 4524.)

But both Burnell and Burnett may also be local from places ending in -hill and -head (), and Burnett is sometimes for Burnard. The same applies to Burrell, usually taken to be from Mid. Eng. borel, a rough material, Old Fr. burel (bureau), also used metaphorically in the sense of plain, uneducated

"And moore we seen of Cristes secree thynges
Than burel folk, al though they weren kynges."

(D, 1871.)

The name can equally well be the local Burhill or Burwell.

Murray is too common to be referred entirely to the Scottish name and is sometimes for murrey, dark red (Fr. mûre, mulberry). It may also represent merry, in its variant form murie, which is Mid. English, and not, as might appear, Amurrican—

"His murie men comanded he
To make hym bothe game and glee."

(B, 2029.)

Pook, of uncertain origin, is supposed to have been a dark russet colour. Bayard, a derivative of bay, was the name of several famous war-horses. Cf. Blank and Blanchard. The name Soar is from the Old French adjective sor, bright yellow. It is of Germanic origin and cognate with sere.

The dim. Sorrel may be a colour name, but it was applied in venery to a buck in the third year, of course in reference to colour; and some of our names, e.g. Brocket and Prickett, [Footnote: Both words are connected with the spiky young horns, Fr. broche, spit, being applied in venery to the pointed horns of the second year.] both applied to a two-year-old stag, must sometimes be referred to this important department of medieval language. Holofernes uses some of these terms in his idiotic verses

"The preyful princess pierc'd and prick'd a pretty pleasing priket;
Some say a sore; but not a sore, till now made sore with shooting.
The dogs did yell; put l to sore, then sorel jumps from thicket."

(Love's Labour's Lost, iv. 2.)

A few adjective nicknames of Celtic origin are so common in England that they may be included here. Such are the Welsh Gough, Goff, Gooch, Gutch, red, Gwynn and Wynne, white, Lloyd, grey, Sayce, Saxon, foreigner, Vaughan, small, and the Gaelic Bain, Bean, white, Boyd, Bowie, yellow-haired, Dow, Duff, black, Finn, fair, Glass, grey, Roy, Roe, red. From Cornish come Coad, old, and Couch, [Footnote: Cognate with Welsh Gough.] red, while Bean is the Cornish for small, and Tyacke means a farmer. It is likely that both Begg and Moore owe something to the Gaelic adjectives for little and big, as in the well-known names of Callum Beg, Edward Waverley's gillie, and McCallum More. The Gaelic Begg is cognate with the Welsh Vaughan. Two other famous Highland nicknames which are very familiar in England are Cameron, crooked nose, and Campbell, wry mouth. With these may be mentioned the Irish Kennedy, ugly head, the name of the father of Brian Boru.

   

   

   

CHAPTER XXIII BIRDS, BEASTS, AND FISHES

"As I think I have already said, one of Umslopogaas'
Zulu names was The Woodpecker."

(HAGGARD, Allan Quatermain, ch. vii.)

The great majority of nicknames coming under the headings typified by Bird and Fowell, Best, and Fish or Fisk (Scand.) are easily identified. But here, as everywhere in the subject, pitfalls abound. The name Best itself is an example of a now misleading spelling retained for obvious reasons-—

"First, on the wal was peynted a forest,
In which ther dwelleth neither man nor best."

(A, 1976.)

We do not find exotic animals, nor even the beasts of heraldry, at all frequently. Leppard, leopard, is in some cases for the Ger. Liebhart; and Griffin, when not Welsh, should no doubt be included among inn-signs. Oliphant, i.e. elephant—

"For maystow surmounten thise olifauntes in gretnesse or weighte of body" (Boece, 782)—

may be a genuine nickname, but Roland's ivory horn was also called by this name, and the surname may go back to some legendary connection of the same kind. Bear is not uncommon, captive bears being familiar to a period in which the title bear-ward is frequently met with.

It is possible that Drake may sometimes represent Anglo-Sax. draca, dragon, rather than the bird, but the latter is unmistakable in Sheldrick, for sheldrake. As a rule, animal nicknames were taken rather from the domestic species with which the peasantry were familiar and whose habits would readily suggest comparisons, generally disparaging, with those of their neighbours.

   

   

   

BIRDS

Bird names are especially common, and it does not need much imagination to see how readily and naturally a man might be nicknamed Hawke for his fierceness, Crowe from a gloomy aspect, or Nightingale for the gift of sweet song. Many of these surnames go back to words which are now either obsolete or found only in dialect. The peacock was once the Poe, an early loan from Lat. pavo, or, more fully, Pocock

"A sheaf of pocok arwes, bright and kene,
Under his belt he bar ful thriftily."

(A, 104.)

The name Pay is another form of the same word. Coe, whence Hedgecoe, is an old name for the jackdaw—

"Cadow, or coo, or chogh (chough), monedula"                 (Prompt. Parv.)—

but may also stand for cow, as we find, in defiance of gender and sex, such entries as Robert le cow, William le vache. Those birds which have now assumed a font-name, such as Jack daw, Mag pie, of course occur without it as surnames, e.g. Daw and Pye—

"The thief the chough, and eek the jangelyng pye"                (Parliament of Fowls, 305).

The latter has a dim. Pyatt.

Rainbird is a local name for the green woodpecker, but as an East-Anglian name it is most likely an imitative form of Fr. Rimbaud or Raimbaud, identical with Anglo-Sax. Regenbeald. Knott is the name of a bird which frequents the sea-shore and, mindful of Cnut's wisdom, retreats nimbly before the advancing surf—

"The knot that called was Canutus' bird of old."

(Drayton, Polyolbion, xxv. 368.)

This historical connection is most probably due to folk-etymology. Titmus is of course for tit-mouse. Dialect names for the woodpecker survive in Speight, Speke, and Spick, Pick (Chapter III). The same bird was also called woodwall

"In many places were nyghtyngales,
Alpes, fynches, and wodewales"

(Romaunt of the Rose, 567)—

hence, in some cases, the name Woodall. The Alpe, or bullfinch, mentioned in the above lines, also survives as a surname. Dunnock and Pinnock are dialect names for the sparrow. It was called in Anglo-Norman muisson, whence Musson. Starling is a dim. of Mid. Eng. stare, which has itself given the surname Starr

"The stare, that the counseyl can be-wrye."                 (Parliament of Fowls, 348.)

Heron is the French form of the bird-name which was in English Herne—

"I come from haunts of coot and hern."                 (Tennyson, The Brook, 1. 1.)

The Old French dim. heronceau also passed into English—

"I wol nat tellen of hir strange sewes (courses),
Ne of hir swannes, ne of hire heronsewes."

(F, 67.)

As a surname it has been assimilated to the local, and partly identical, Hearnshaw (Chapter XII). Some commentators go to this word to explain Hamlet's use of handsaw-

"I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly,
I know a hawk from a handsaw"                 (Hamlet, ii. 2).

 

When the author's father was a boy in Suffolk eighty years ago, the local name for the bird was pronounced exactly like answer. Grew is Fr. grue, crane, Lat. grus, gru-. Butter, Fr. butor, "a bittor" (Cotgrave), is a dialect name for the bittern, called a "butter-bump" by Tennyson's Northern Farmer (1. 31). Culver is Anglo-Sax. culfre, a pigeon—

"Columba, a culver, a dove"

(Cooper)—

hence the local Culverhouse. Dove often becomes Duff. Gaunt is sometimes a dialect form of gannet, used in Lincolnshire of the crested grebe. Popjoy may have been applied to the successful archer who became king of the popinjay for the year. The derivation of the word, Old Fr. papegai, whence Mid. Eng. papejay

"The briddes synge, it is no nay,
The sparhawk and the papejay,
That joye it was to heere"

(B, 1956)—

is obscure, though various forms of it are found in most of the European languages. In English it was applied not only to the parrot, but also to the green woodpecker. The London Directory form is Pobgee.

With bird nicknames may be mentioned Callow, unfledged, cognate with Lat. calvus, bald. Its opposite also survives as Fleck and Flick-

"Flygge, as byrdis, maturus, volabilis."

(Prompt. Parv.)

Margaret Paston, writing (1460) of the revived hopes of Henry VI., says—

"Now he and alle his olde felawship put owt their fynnes, and arn ryght flygge and mery."

   

 

   

   

HAWK NAMES

We have naturally a set of names taken from the various species of falcons. To this class belongs Haggard, probably related to Anglo-Sax. haga, hedge, and used of a hawk which had acquired incurable habits of wildness by preying for itself. But Haggard is also a personal name (Chapter VIII). Spark, earlier Sparhawk, is the sparrow-hawk. It is found already in Anglo-Saxon as a personal name, and the full Sparrowhawk also exists. Tassell is a corruption of tiercel, a name given to the male peregrine, so termed, according to the legendary lore of venery—

"Because he is, commonly, a third part lesse than the female."                 (Cotgrave, )

Juliet calls Romeo her "tassell gentle" (ii. 2). Muskett was a name given to the male sparrow-hawk.

"Musket, a lytell hauke, mouchet."                 (Palsgrave.)

Mushet is the same name. It comes from Ital. moschetto, a little fly. For its later application to a firearm cf. falconet. Other names of the hawk class are Buzzard and Puttock, i.e. kite-—

"Milan, a kite, puttock, glead"

(Cotgrave);

and to the same bird we owe the name Gleed, from a Scandinavian name for the bird

"And the glede, and the kite, and the vulture after his kind."                 (Deut. xiv. 13.)

To this class also belongs Ramage—

"Ramage, of, or belonging to, branches; also, ramage, hagard, wild, homely, rude"

(Cotgrave)—

and sometimes Lennard, an imitative form of "lanner," the name of an inferior hawk—

Falcunculus, a leonard."

(Holyoak, Lat. Dict., 1612.)

 

   

Povey is a dialect name for the owl, a bird otherwise absent from the surname list.

   

   

   

   

BEASTS

Among beast nicknames we find special attention given, as in modern vituperation, to the swine, although we do not find this true English word, unless it be occasionally disguised as Swain. Hogg does not belong exclusively to this class, as it is used in dialect both of a young sheep and a yearling colt. Anglo-Sax. sugu, sow, survives in Sugg. Purcell is Old Fr. pourcel (pourceau), dim. of Lat. porcus, and I take Pockett to be a disguised form of the obsolete porket—

"Porculus, a pygg: a shoote: a porkes."

(Cooper.)

The word shoote in the above gloss is now the dialect shot, a young pig, which may have given the surname Shott. But Scutt is from a Mid. English adjective meaning short—

"Scute, or shorte, curtus, brevis"

(Prompt. Parv.)—

and is also an old name for the hare. Two other names for the pig are the northern Galt and the Lincolnshire Grice—

"Marcassin, a young wild boare; a shoot or grice." (Cotgrave.)

Grice also represents le gris, the grey; cf. Grace for le gras (Chapter XXII). Bacon looks like a nickname, but is invariably found without the article. As it is common in French, it would appear to be an Old French accusative to Back, going back to Germanic Bacco (Chapter XIII). Hinks is Mid. Eng. hengst, a stallion, and is thus identical with Hengist (Chapter XX). Stott means both a bullock and a nag (Chapter XIX).

Everyone remembers Wamba's sage disquisition on the names of animals in the first chapter of Ivanhoe. Like much of Scott's archaeology it is somewhat anachronistic, for the live animals were also called veals and muttons for centuries after Wamba's death

"Mouton, a mutton, a weather"; "veau, a calfe, or veale." (Cotgrave.)

Calf has become very rare as a surname, though Kalb is still common in Germany. Bardsley regards Duncalf and Metcalf as perverted from dun-croft and meadow-croft. It seems possible that they may be for down-calf and mead-calf, from the locality of the pasture, but this is a pure guess on my part. It is curious that beef does not appear to have survived, though Leboeuf is common in French, and bullocks are still called "beeves" in Scotland. Tegg is still used by butchers for a two-year-old sheep. Palsgrave gives it another meaning—

"Tegg, or pricket (Chapter XXII), saillant."

Roe is also found in the older forms Rae and Ray, of course confused with Wray (Chapter XIII), as Roe itself is with Rowe (Chapter I). Doe often becomes Dowe. Hind is usually occupative (Chapter III), but Fr. Labiche suggests that it must sometimes be a nickname—

"Biche, a hind; the female of a stagge."         (Cotgrave.)

Pollard was applied to a beast or stag that had lost its horns—

"He has no horns, sir, has he?
"No, sir, he's a pollard."

(Beaumont and Fletcher, Philaster, v. 4.)

Leverett is certified by the French surname Levrault. Derivation from Lever, Anglo-Sax. Leofhere, whence Levers, Leverson, or Leveson, is much less probable, as these Anglo-Saxon names rarely form dims. (Chapter VII). Luttrel is in French Loutrel, perhaps a dim. of loutre, otter, Lat. lutra. From the medieval lutrer or lutrarius, otter hunter, we get Lutterer, no doubt confused with the musical Luter.

While Catt is fairly common in the eastern counties, Robertus le chien and Willelmus le curre, who were living about the end of the twelfth century, are now completely disguised as Ken and Kerr. Modern French has both Lechien and the Norman Lequien. [Footnote: Lekain, the name of a famous French actor, has the same origin.] We owe a few other surnames to the friend of man. Kennett, from a Norman dim. of chien, meant greyhound—

"Kenette, hounde, leporarius."         (Prompt. Parv.)

The origin of the name Talbot is unknown, and it is uncertain whether the hound or the family should have precedence; but Chaucer seems to use it as the proper name of a hound

"Ran Colle our dogge, and Talbot, and Gerland,
And Malkyn, with a dystaf in hir hand."

(B, 4573.)

The great Earl of Shrewsbury is affectionately called "Talbot, our good dogge" in political rimes of the fifteenth century.

In early dictionaries may be found long lists of the fanciful names, such as Bright, Lightfoot, Ranger, Ringwood, Swift, Tempest, given to hounds. This practice seems to throw some light on such surnames as Tempest, with which we may compare the German names Storm and Sturm. In the Pipe Rolls the name le esturmi, the stormy, occurs several times. To the same class belongs Thunder, found in the Pipe Rolls as Tonitruus, and not therefore necessarily a perversion of Tunder, i.e. Sherman (Chapter XVIII)—

"Tondeur de draps, a shearman, or clothworker."         (Cotgrave.)

Garland, used by Chaucer as a dog's name, was earlier graland, and, as le garlaund is also found, it may be referred to Old Fr. grailler, to trumpet. It no doubt has other origins.

We should expect Fox to be strongly represented, and we find the compounds Colfox and Stelfox. The first means black fox—

"A colfox ful of sly iniquitee"

(B, 4405)—

and I conjecture that the first part of Stelfox is connected with stealing, as in the medieval name Stele-cat—

"The two constables made a thorough search and found John Stelfox hiding behind some bushes. Some of the jewellery was found upon him"

(Daily Chronicle, June 3, 1913).

In the north a fox is called Tod, whence Todhunter. This Tod is probably a personal name, like the French Renard and the Scottish Lawrie or Lowrie, applied to the same animal. Allan Ramsay calls him "slee Tod Lowrie." From the badger we have Brock and sometimes Gray—

Blaireau, a badger, gray, boason, brock         (Cotgrave)—

but Badger itself is occupative (Chapter XIX). The polecat survives as Fitch, Fitchett, and Fitchew—

"Fissau, a filch, or fulmart."

(Cotgrave.)

   

 

   

FISHES

On fish-names Bardsley remarks, "We may quote the famous chapter on 'Snakes in Iceland': 'There are no snakes in Iceland,' and say there are no fish-names in England." This is almost true. The absence of marked traits of character in the, usually invisible, fish would militate against the adoption of such names. We should not expect to find the shark to be represented, for the word is of too late occurrence. But Whale is fairly common. Whale the mariner received two pounds from Henry VII's privy purse in 1498. The story of Jonah, or very generous proportions, may have originated the name Whalebelly, "borne by a respectable family in south-east England" (Bardsley).

But there would obviously be no great temptation to go fishing for nicknames when the beasts of the farmyard and the forest, the birds of the marshes and the air, offered on every side easily understood comparisons. At the same time Bardsley's statement goes a little too far. He explains Gudgeon as a corruption of Goodison. But this, true though it may be in some cases, will not explain the very common French surname Goujon. The phrase "greedy gudgeon" suggests that in this case a certain amount of character had been noticed in the fish. Sturgeon also seems to be a genuine fish-name. We find Fr. Lesturgeon and Ger. Stoer, both meaning the same. We have also Smelt and the synonymous Spurling. In French and German we find other surnames which undoubtedly belong to this class, but they are not numerous and probably at first occurred only in regions where fishing or fish-curing were important industries.

A few examples will show that apparent fish-names are usually not genuine. Chubb is for Job (Chapter III), Eeles is one of the numerous derivatives of Elias (Chapter IX), Hake is, like Hack, from the Scandinavian Hacun, Haddock is sometimes a perversion of the local Haydock, Lamprey comes via Old French from Old High Ger. Landprecht, which has usually given Lambert.

Pike is local (Chapter XII), Pilchard is for Pilcher (Chapter XVIII), Roach is Fr. Laroche, Salmon is for Salomon, and Turbot is the Anglo-Sax. Thurbeorht, which has also given Tarbut, as Thurgod has given Targett. But in few of the above examples is the possibility of fish origin absolutely excluded.

   

   

SPECIAL FEATURES

We have also many surnames due to physical resemblances not extending beyond one feature. Birdseye may be sometimes of local origin, from ey, island (Chapter XII), but as a genuine nickname it is as natural as the sobriquet of Hawkeye which Natty Bumppo received from the Hurons. German has the much less pleasing Gansauge, goose-eye; and Alan Oil de larrun, thief's eye, was fined for very reprehensible conduct in 1183. To explain Crowfoot as an imitative variant of Crawford is absurd when we find a dozen German surnames of the same class and formation and as many in Old or Modern French beginning with pied de. Cf. Pettigrew (Chapter XXI) and Sheepshanks. We find in the Paris Directory not only Piedeleu (Old Fr. leu, wolf) and Piedoie (oie, goose), but even the full Pied-de-Lièvre, Professeur à la Faculté de droit. The name Bulleid was spelt in the sixteenth century bul-hed, i.e. bull-head, a literal rendering of Front de Boeuf. Weatherhead (Chapter XIX) is perhaps usually a nickname

"For that old weather-headed fool, I know how to laugh at him."

(Congreve, Love for Love, ii. 7.)

Coxhead is another obvious nickname. A careful analysis of some of the most important medieval name-lists would furnish hundreds of further examples, some too outspoken to have survived into our degenerate age, and others which are now so corrupted that their original vigour is quite lost.

Puns and jokes upon proper names are, pace Gregory the Great and Shakespeare, usually very inept and stupid; but the following lines by James Smith, which may be new to some of my readers, are really clever—

Men once were surnamed from their shape or estate

            (You all may from History worm it);

There was Lewis the Bulky, and Henry the Great,

            John Lackland, and Peter the Hermit.

But now, when the door-plates of Misters and Dames

            Are read, each so constantly varies

From the owner's trade, figure, and calling, Surnames

            Seem given by the rule of contraries.

Mr. Box, though provoked, never doubles his fist,
            Mr. Burns, in his grate, has no fuel;
Mr. Playfair won't catch me at hazard or whist,
            Mr. Coward was wing'd in a duel.
Mr. Wise is a dunce, Mr. King is a whig,
            Mr. Coffin's uncommonly sprightly,
And huge Mr. Little broke down in a gig,
            While driving fat Mrs. Golightly.

Mrs. Drinkwater's apt to indulge in a dram,
            Mrs. Angel’s an absolute fury,
And meek Mr. Lyon let fierce Mr. Lamb
            Tweak his nose in the lobby of Drury.
At Bath, where the feeble go more than the stout,
            (A conduct well worthy of Nero),
Over poor Mr. Lightfoot, confined with the gout,
            Mr. Heaviside danced a Bolero.

Miss Joy, wretched maid, when she chose Mr. Love,
            Found nothing but sorrow await her;
She now holds in wedlock, as true as a dove,
            That fondest of mates, Mr. Hayter.
Mr. Oldcastle dwells in a modern-built hut,
            Miss Sage is of madcaps the archest;
Of all the queer bachelors Cupid e'er cut,
            Old Mr. Younghusband's the starchest.

Mr. Child, in a passion, knock'd down Mr. Rock,
            Mr. Stone like an aspen-leaf shivers;
Miss Poole used to dance, but she stands like a stock
            Ever since she became Mrs. Rivers;
Mr. Swift hobbles onward, no mortal knows how,
            He moves as though cords had entwin'd him;
Mr. Metcalfe ran off, upon meeting a cow,
            With pale Mr. Turnbull behind him.

Mr. Barker's as mute as a fish in the sea,
            Mr. Miles never moves on a journey;
Mr. Gotobed sits up till half-after three,
            Mr. Makepeace was bred an attorney.
Mr. Gardiner can't tell a flower from a root,
            Mr. Wilde with timidity draws back,
Mr. Ryder performs all his journeys on foot,
            Mr. Foote all his journeys on horseback.

Mr. Penny, whose father was rolling in wealth,
            Kick'd down all his fortune his dad won;
Large Mr. Le Fever's the picture of health,
            Mr. Goodenough is but a bad one.
Mr. Cruickshank stept into three thousand a year,
            By showing his leg to an heiress: —
Now I hope you'll acknowledge I've made it quite clear
            That surnames ever go by contraries.

 

 

   

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Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 9s.. net.

This is a scholar's book, written for those who wish to make a scientific study of the subject upon the lines of modern philological method. It should be of use to students of English in the Universities, and to teachers elsewhere who desire to know the results of recent research.

 

 

THE HISTORICAL STUDY OF THE MOTHER TONGUE

An Introduction to Philological Method. Fourth Impression. 10s. 6d. net.

The object of this book is to give not a history of our language but some indications of the point of view from which the history of a language should be studied, and of the principal points of method in such a study, and to prepare the way for the beginner to the study of at least some of the great writers.

 

 

THE GROWTH OF ENGLISH

An Elementary Account of the Present Form of our Language and its Development. Fifth Impression. 5s. net.

This book is intended for students in Secondary Schools and Training Colleges. The ground covered is approximately that required by the Board of Education in their Regulations for the Training of Teachers.

 

 

THE TEACHING OF READING IN TRAINING COLLEGES

2s. 6d. net.

This book is intended as a practical guide for those who have to teach Primary Teachers in Training how to read their own language. It contains a collection of extracts in prose and verse, suitable for reading aloud, transcribed into a simple phonetic notation.

 

 

THE PLACE OF THE MOTHER TONGUE INNATIONAL EDUCATION

Demy 8vo. 1s. net.

 

 

THE STUDENT'S ENGLISH LITERATURE

A History of English Literature and of the chief English Writers founded upon the Manual of Thomas B. Shaw.

By A. Hamilton Thomson, B.A., of St. John's College, Cambridge, and University Extension Lecturer in English Literature. With Notes, etc. Fifth Impression. 9s.

 

 

SMALLER HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE

Giving a Sketch of the Lives of our chief English Writers.

By James Rowley. 15th Impression. Small Crown 8vo. 4s.

 

 

SHAKSPERE'S PREDECESSORS IN THE ENGLISH DRAMA

By J. A. Symonds. New Edition. 10s. 6d. net.

 

 

SHAKSPERE AND HIS PREDECESSORS IN THE ENGLISH DRAMA

By F. S. Boas, M.A., sometime Professor of English Literature, Queen's College, Belfast. 7s. 6d. net.

An invaluable book for all students. Every play and character is carefully analysed, and the whole subject is treated in a thoroughly original and attractive way.

 

 

THE ENGLISH NOVEL FROM ITS ORIGIN TO SIR WALTER SCOTT

By Sir Walter Raleigh, M.A., Professor of English Literature in the University of Oxford. 4s. 6d. net.

 

 

OUTLINES OF ENGLISH LITERATURE

By William Renton. With Illustrative Diagrams. 4s. 6d. net.

 

 

INTRODUCTION TO POETRY

Poetic Expression, Poetic Truth, the Progress of Poetry.

By Laurie Magnus, M.A. Second Edition. 2s. 6d. net.

 

 

MURRAY'S ENGLISH LITERATURE SERIES

BY E. W. EDMUNDS, M.A., B.Sc. (Lond.)

BISHOP'S-STORTFORD COLLEGE

Press Opinions on the Series.

Athenaeum. - "For inculcating an intelligent and lasting acquaintance with its subject the present series is likely, in our opinion, to prove the best of its kind."

Educational Times—"The collection is excellent, and it will usefully extend the range of English reading in schools."

 

 

THE STORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE

Three Volumes, 5s. each.

Vol. I. THE ELIZABETHAN PERIOD, 1558 - 625.

Vol. II. SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES, 1625 - 1780.

Vol. III. NINETEENTH CENTURY, 1780 - 1880.

 

 

READINGS IN ENGLISH LITERATURE

The Three Grades are designed to cover the whole period of School life. No Class needs to use more than one Book at a time.

 

I. THE ELIZABETHAN PERIOD, 1558-1625.