Between and including the years 1838 and 1854 there were registered as born, or married, or dead, no less than 286,307 Smiths. Were we indeed to put into one community the persons who bear this name in our land, we should have a town larger than Leeds, and scarcely inferior in size and importance to that of the capital of the midland counties. The smith is often spoken of colloquially as the blacksmith, a title which, while it has not itself a place in our nomenclature, reminds us of others that have, and of a peculiar custom of earlier days. The word ‘blacksmith’ dates from the days of ‘Cocke Lorelle’s Bote,’ and it is quite evident that at that time it was customary for the smith to have his name compounded with sobriquets according to the colour of the metal upon which he spent his energies. Thus the former ‘Thomas Brownesmythe’ evidently worked in copper and brass, ‘William le Whytesmyth’ in tinplate, ‘John Redesmith’ in gold, a ‘Goldsmith’ in fact; ‘Richard Grensmythe’ in I am not sure what, unless it be lead; and ‘John Blackesmythe’ in iron. The last is the only one I fail to discover as now existing among our surnames—a circumstance, however, easily accounted for from the settled position the simple ‘Smith’ himself had obtained as an artificer of that metal. But these are not the only compounds. Our ‘Smiths’ are surrounded with connexions of not merely every hue, but every type. Thus ‘Arrowsmith,’ already alluded to with its contracted ‘Arsmith,’ tells its own tale of archery service; ‘Billsmith’ and ‘Spearsmith’ remind us of the lances, or rather lance heads, that did such duty in the golden days of Agincourt and Poictiers. Of a more peaceful nature would be the work of our ‘Nasmyths,’ like our ‘Naylors,’ mere relics of the old nailsmith. Closely connected with them, therefore, we may set our ‘Shoosmiths,’[273] but Saxon representatives of the Norman-introduced ‘Farrier.’ The surname still clings chiefly to the north of England, where the Saxon, retaining so much more of its strength and vigour than in the south, preserved it as the occupative term for centuries. Springtide and the approach of sheep-washing would see our ‘Sheersmiths’ busy, while the later autumn would have its due effect upon the trade of our ‘Sixsmiths’ and ‘Sucksmiths,’ pleasant though curiously corrupted memorials of the old sicklesmith, or ‘Sykelsmith,’ as I find the name spelt. The bucklesmith (‘John le Bokelsmythe,’ X.), whose name is referred to in the poem I have but recently quoted, has similarly and as naturally curtailed himself to ‘Bucksmith.’[274] Our ‘Bladesmiths’ fashioned swords, being found generally in fellowship with our ‘Cutlers’ and obsolete ‘Knyfesmythes.’ Our ‘Locksmiths,’ of course, looked to the security of door, and closet, and cupboard;[275] while our ‘Minsmiths’ (‘John le Mynsmuth,’ M.), for I believe they are not as yet quite obsolete, hard at work in the mint smithy, forged the coin for the early community. As,