FANCY TITLES.
1■1ANY of the most romantic and picturesque titles hays already been appropriated. There is a sonority and Splendour in such names as Montrose, Clarendon, Dunraven, Fingell, Albemarle, to mention only a few, that leave little to be desired on the score of euphony. For sheer beauty of sound our favourite is Monteagle of Brandon. There are some titles, again, which are highly impressive in the written as opposed to the spoken form, such as Zotiohe. But there are as good names in the land as ever came out of it, and one cannot help being impressed by the lack of imagination shown by the bearers of recent titles in the choice of their new names. Of course it would never do to allow commoners on being elevated to the Peerage to select titles simply on the ground of euphony, and thus to appropriate beautiful place- names with which they have no residential association. But this objection falls to the ground in the case of fiction, and here the lack of imagination is just as marked as in the realm of fact. This shortcoming is all the more to be deplored since novelists, or at any rate the great majority of them, cannot dispense with Peers, either as a decorative or de-decorative element. We admit that there have been noble exceptions, amongst whom Thackeray stood pre- eminent. Dickens's love of caricature, was in this respect a source of weakness, as it led him to assign labels which, to speak vulgarly, "gave away the show" from the start—e.g.. in such names as Verisopht—and rendered the application of the law of suspense impossible. The same remark holds good to a certain extent of Thackeray ; but even where his titles are frankly satirical, as in the case of Bargacres, they have such a satisfying sound that we half forget their obvious implication. The perfection of his subtlety in these satiric titles is to be found in the Marquis of Steyne,' which combines with its Regency associations the suggestion of moral vileness which attaches to the word if pronounced "stain." The best modern instance we can recall of this ingeniously suggestive type of nomenclature is that of the central figure of Mr. Meade Falkner's admirable novel, The Nebuly Coat—Lord Blandamer. Most readers accept it as a good sounding title, and, do not stop to analyse its composition, which throws a flood of light on the "bitter-sweet" dualism of that mysterious and attrac- tive nobleman. But The Nebuly Coat is a novel in ten thousand, and it is for the benefit of the ordinary practitioner that we venture to make a few suggestions for the judicious use of the Gazetteer, the Postal Directory, or the A B C Guide.
Wicked Peers, as we have already observed, are indispensable to writers who deal in sensational fiction, and we would accordingly press the claims of Matlaske and Wryde. There is nothing that we are aware of in the local history of either place to warrant this interpretation. It is merely that Matlaske has something sombre and sinister in its sound, and that Wryde is inevitably suggestive of crookedness. On the whole, we think it ought to be the Marquis—or bettor Marquess—of Matlaske, and the Earl of Wryde. If, on the other hand, our Peer were a musical enthusiast, what better title could be found' than Chapelizod—which is derived from Iseult or Isoude —if his tastes were operatic, or Hautbois, if they lay in an instrumental direction? If he were addicted to yachting, the name of Wivenboe—which looks better in the old form of Wyvenhoe—is at once distinguished in appearance, appro- priate, and unappropriated. If, again, he owed his eminence to brewing or distilling, there are half.a.dozen Northumber- land place-names ending in." bottle" to choose from, with Lorbottle as perhaps the best. If his tastes were literary, Kelmscott and Rydal suggest themselves as both dignified and appropriate titles; while if he were a collector, what better name could be devised than that of Fonthill?
Unless we are muck mistaken, the bestowal of a title seldom occurs in a work of fiction. Peers die and their sons succeed, but the creation of a peerage is avoided. This is after all natural, since in real life the elevation of an eminent person to the Peerage often marks the close of his public career. From a dramatic point of view 'his possibilities are 'exhausted. If' he is not eminent. and has been merely "kicked upstairs," the change of name is merely a convenient cloak for his mediocrity or a means of evading criticism. Still.; these considerations do not seem to us altogether convincing in their support of the ," fietioifal " usage. We .see no reason, for example, Why in work of pure imagination a sporting celebrity should not be welcomed by the 'Ouse of Lords as Lord Aintree, or a famous golfer as Lord Lossiemouth, Lord Dornoch, Lord Hoylake, or Lord Braneaster. Nor, again, do we see why the grant of titles in a romantic work of a satiric complexion should not be effectively introduced as the outcome of a freakish disposition on the pert of a Sovereign with a sense of humour. That is to say, he would bestow titles, not as rewards, but as punishments ; not as aineans of disguising a dubious past, but as a permanent reminder of it. Thus one can imagine a notorious financier renamed Lord Diddlebury or Lord Rampton. So, again, a well-nourished Alderman might be elevated to the Barony of Fulneek, it self. advertising politician to that of G-lorormn, a notorious crank might become Lord Faddiley, or a strenuous dullard Lord Dodderhill. But the materials at hand are far better adapted for the decoration of virtue than the gibbeting of vice. Only a man who was whole-heartedly on the side of the angels would deserve to wear such an inspiriting mine as Helms- dale or Stratbcarron, Lostwithiel or Thornfalcon, Daviot or Endellion, Redruth or Marazion. The mere sound of Evenlode and Ivinghoe, Jesmond, Lunedale, or Glynde ought to prove an incentive to romantic characterization. There are certain place-names again that; without being beautiful, have a characteristic flavour about them that is altogether engaging, such, for example, as Cambus, Rowfant, and Kemsing ; while there are others which, either from their uncouthness, like Chowbent or Bootle, or from their associations, such as Pad- dington, Peckham, or Ramsgate, could never be used as a means of ennobling his characters by any self-respecting novelist. Suburbia, trippers, and winkles are fatal drawbacks in this context, though in real life the first-named has been °ma- sionally disregarded—el , Battersea and Wandsworth. But Kew, in spite of Thackeray's lead, remains unused along with Roehampton, Wimbledon, and Mortlake—all of them fair- sounding names.
It is a curious thing that, viewed from the purely euphonic standpoint, the lesser grades are more impressive than the higher—Marquess than Duke, and Viscount than Earl. Here at least the "mighty monosyllable" does not prevail; And, as we are speaking of the gradation of titles, there is one peculiar to Scotland which has always seemed to us extremely desirable, that of Master. If it were not a solecism of the first order to combine it with an English place-name, we should like to suggest The Master of Basildon as our supreme effort in fancy title-coining. Lear wrote a delightful set of verses about an Oriental potentate—the Akbond of Swat— but though he coined many excellent nonsense batn013, he never invented a nonsense title that we can remember. But we think that a good round game might be devised on the lines of Consequences, in which the first entry should be a name, and then, when the papers had been moved on, a suitable title should be appended by the next contributor, further Mlles being devoted to the marriages and subsequent careers of these imaginary noblemen:
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