Methinks it would be some advantage to philosophy if men were named
merely in the gross, as they are known. It would be necessary only
to know the genus, and perhaps the race or variety, to know the
individual. We are not prepared to believe that every private soldier
in a Roman army had a name of his own, because we have not supposed
that he had a character of his own. At present, our only true names
are nicknames. I knew a boy who, from his peculiar energy, was called
"Buster" by his playmates, and this rightly supplanted his Christian
name. Some travellers tell us that an Indian had no name given him at
first, but earned it, and his name was his fame; and among some tribes
he acquired a new name with every new exploit. It is pitiful when a man
bears a name for convenience merely, who has earned neither name nor
fame.
I will not allow mere names to make distinctions for me, but still
see men in herds for all them. A familiar name cannot make a man less
strange to me. It may be given to a savage who retains in secret his
own wild title earned in the woods. We have a wild savage in us, and
a savage name is perchance somewhere recorded as ours. I see that my
neighbour, who bears the familiar epithet William, or Edwin, takes
it off with his jacket. It does not adhere to him when asleep or
in anger, or aroused by any passion or inspiration. I seem to hear
pronounced by some of his kin at such a time his original wild name in
some jaw-breaking or else melodious tongue.
Here is this vast, savage, howling mother of ours, Nature, lying all
around, with such beauty, and such affection for her children, as the
leopard; and yet we are so early weaned from her breast to society,
to that culture which is exclusively an interaction of man on man--a
sort of breeding in and in, which produces at most a merely English
nobility, a civilisation destined to have a speedy limit.
In society, in the best institutions of men, it is easy to detect a
certain precocity. When we should still be growing children, we are
already little men. Give me a culture which imports much muck from the
meadows, and deepens the soil--not that which trusts to heating manures
and improved implements and modes of culture only.
Many a poor sore-eyed student that I have heard of would grow faster,
both intellectually and physically, if, instead of sitting up so very
late, he honestly slumbered a fool's allowance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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