Its nature is still more characterised in ‘Robert de Greneslade,’ that is, the green-slade; ‘William de la Morslade,’ the moorland-slade; ‘Richard de Wytslade,’ the white-slade; ‘Michael de Ocslade,’ the oak-slade, and ‘William de Waldeslade,’[115] the forest-slade (weald); ‘Sladen,’ that is, slade-den, implies a woodland hollow. As a local term there is a little difference betwixt it and ‘launde,’ only the latter has no suspicion of indenture about it. A launde was a pretty and rich piece of grassy sward in the heart of a forest, what we should now call an open wood, in fact. Thus it is we term the space in our gardens within the surrounding shrubberies _lawns_. Chaucer says of Theseus on hunting bent— To the _launde_ he rideth him ful right There was the hart wont to have his flight. In the ‘Morte Arthur,’ too, we are told of hunting— At the hartes in these hye _laundes_. This is the source of more surnames than we might imagine. Hence are sprung our ‘Launds,’ ‘Lands,’ ‘Lowndes,’ ‘Landers,’ in many cases, and our obsolete ‘Landmans.’ The forms, as at first met with, are equally varied. We have ‘atte-Lond,’ ‘de la Laund,’ and ‘de la Lande,’ while the origin of our ‘Lunds’ shows itself in ‘de la Lund.’ ‘De la Holme’ still flourishes in our ‘Holmes,’ while the more personal form is found in our ‘Holmers’ and ‘Holmans.’ An holm was a flat meadow-land lying within the windings of some valley stream. Our ‘Platts,’ found in such an entry as ‘Robert del Plat,’ are similarly sprung, but in the ‘plat’ there was less thought of general surroundings. As an adjective it was in common use formerly. For instance, in the ‘Romaunt of the Rose,’ when the God of Love had shot his arrow, it is said— When I was hurte thus in stound I fell down plat unto the ground. Our ‘Knowles,’ ‘Knowlers,’ and ‘Knowlmans’ carry us to the gently rising slopes in the woods, grassy and free of timber, the old form of the first being ‘de la Cnolle’ or ‘atte Knolle.’ Our ‘Lynches,’ once written ‘de Linches,’ I should surmise, are but a dress of the still familiar _link_ across our northern border—the flatland running by the river and sea-coast, while our ‘Kays’ (when not the old British ‘Kay’) represent the more artificial ‘quay,’ reminding us of the knitting together of beam and stone. It is but the same word as we apply to locks, the idea of both being that of securing or fastening. Though it is to the more open plains and woodlands we must look for the majority of our place-names, nevertheless, looking up our steeps and into the fissures of the hills, we may see that every feature in the landscape has its memorial in our nomenclature. ‘De la Hill’ needs no remark. ‘De la Helle’ and ‘atte Helle’ are somewhat less pleasant to look upon, but they are only another form of the same. ‘De la Hulle,’ again, is but a third setting of the same. Gower says—