But an equally grave crisis in English nomenclature was the publication of an English Bible, and the Reformation of Religion that followed. From that day all our common and familiar Bible names came into use. Till then the only Scripture names in vogue were those set down in the Calendar of the Saints, or such names as were employed in the “Mysteries,” or “Plays” taken from Scripture stories, performed at festivals for the amusement and instruction of the peasantry and tradespeople. From the day of the Reformation the _out-of-the-way_ sobriquets of the Bible came into favour. As these increased, what we may call the pagan names decreased. The popularity of Harry, Dick, Robert, and Walter began to fade. Some, like Hamond, Avice, Drew, Payn, and Warin, altogether disappeared, while Guy, Baldwin, and Edward held but a most precarious existence. Here then are two epochs—the Norman, and the Puritan. Let us confine ourselves in this chapter to the first. “_Pagan_” and “_Christian_” were both favourite baptismal names in the Norman epoch. The former was registered as “Payn” or “Paine.” Chaucer says,— “The constable and Dame Hermigold, his wife, Were payens, and that country everywhere.” All our “Pagans,” “Payns,” “Paines,” and “Pinsons” are from this old-fashioned sobriquet. A century ago, the Hon. Thomas Erskine having been seized with a serious illness, and kindly tended at Lady Payne’s house in London, wrote,— “’Tis true I am ill; but I need not complain, For he never knew pleasure who never knew Payne.” _Christian_ has never been popular in England, but Christopher has; and besides the long “Christophers” and “Christopherson,” has left us Kitts and Kitson. Another name, a Scripture name too, is now all but wholly disused—that of Samson. I daresay many of my readers have thought that our many Sampsons are all but entirely descended from Sam-son, _i.e._, the son of Samuel. I have no hesitation in claiming a full half for the son of Manoah, the Danite. The old registers teem with entries like “Samson de Battisford” or “Sampson Dernebrough.” Shallow says (2 _Hen. IV._), “And the very same day did I fight with one Sampson Stockfish, a fruiterer behind Gray’s Inn.” “I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand, To mow ’em down before me,” says the porter’s assistant in _Henry VIII_. The fact is, the story of Samson was a favourite one with our forefathers, and often performed at the miracle-plays. There are nearly fifty Sampsons and Samsons in the London Directory, some of them being of purely Jewish descent. “Elegant Extracts,” a favourite storehouse of good, bad, and indifferent (very) poetry for the youth of our country in the last century, has the following, anent this name:— “Jack, eating rotten cheese, did say, ‘Like Samson, I my thousands slay.’ ‘I vow,’ quoth Roger, ‘so you do, And with the self-same weapon too.’”