Nevertheless, I must say that it seems to me that to assume the compound to be older than the simple looks very much like something that is contrary to first principles, and indeed the very fact that simple names are so often used in place of compounds appears to me to show that they are more natural to men, and that men would generally adopt them if they could. I cannot but think then, going back to the far remote origin of Teutonic names, that the vocabulary of single words must have been exhausted before men began to take to the use of compounds. When this period arrived, and when the confusion arising from so many men being called by the same name could no longer be endured, some other course required to be adopted. And the course that was adopted was--I put this forward only as a theory--when the range of single names was exhausted, to _put two names together_. The number of changes that could be thus introduced was sufficient for all purposes, and there is, as I believe, no established case of a Teutonic name being formed of more than two words. From this point of view Teutonic names would not be translatable, or formed with any view to a meaning, and this is, as it seems to me, what was in fact the case, as a general rule, though I should be very far from laying it down as a universal principle. If names were formed with a view to a meaning, it does not seem very probable that we should have a name compounded with two words, both of which signify war; still less with two words, one of which signifies peace and the other war. "Bold in war" might have a meaning, but "bold in peace," if it means anything, seems satirical. In point of fact, there was a certain set of words on which the changes were rung in forming names without any apparent reference either to meaning or congruity. Thus we find that the early Frankish converts in the time of Charlemagne, the staple of whose names was German derived from their heathen ancestors, adopted not a few words of Christian import from the Latin or the Hebrew, and mixed them up with the old words to which they had been accustomed in their names. Thus a woman called Electa, no doubt meaning "elect," calls her son Electardus (_hard_, fortis); thus from _pasc_ (passover) is formed Pascoin (_wine_, friend); from the name of Christ himself is formed Cristengaudus (_gaud_, Goth.) Now these are three of the common endings of German names, but no one can suppose that any sense was intended to be made out of them here, or that they were given for any other reason than that they were the sort of words out of which men had been accustomed to form their names. Indeed, the idea present to the minds of the parents seems to have been in many cases to connect the names of their children with their own, rather than anything else, by retaining the first word of the compound and varying the second. Thus a man called Girveus and his wife Ermengildis give their children the names of