Smithfield is a corruption of Smoothfield; smith signifies smooth, from the Saxon smeeth.  An antiquarian friend has seen it designated in a deed as campus planus, which confirms the original meaning.  It is described in Fitz Stephen’s account of London, written before the twelfth century, as a plain field, both in reality and name, where “every Friday there is a celebrated rendezvous of fine horses, brought hither to be sold.  Thither come to look or buy a great number of earls, barons, knights, and a swarm of citizens.  It is a pleasing sight to behold the ambling nags and generous colts, proudly prancing.”  This ancient writer continues a minute description, and, perhaps, gives the earliest one of a horse-race in this country.  It is remarkable that Smithfield should have continued as a market for cattle for more than six centuries, with only the change of its vowels.

This is sufficient to show how the names of our streets require either to be corrected, or explained by their historian.  The French, among the numerous projects for the moral improvement of civilised man, had one, which, had it not been polluted by a horrid faction, might have been directed to a noble end.  It was to name streets after eminent men.  This would at least preserve them from the corruption of the people, and exhibit a perpetual monument of moral feeling and of glory, to the rising genius of every age.  With what excitement and delight may the young contemplatist, who first studies at Gray’s Inn, be reminded of Verulam-buildings!

The names of streets will often be found connected with some singular event, or the character of some person; and anecdotes of our streets might occupy an entertaining antiquary.  Not long ago, a Hebrew, who had a quarrel with his community about the manner of celebrating the Jewish festival in commemoration of the fate of Haman, called Purim, built a neighbourhood at Bethnal-green, and retained the subject of his anger in the name which the houses bear, of Purim-place.  This may startle some theological antiquary at a remote period, who may idly lose himself in abstruse conjectures on the sanctity of a name, derived from a well-known Hebrew festival; and, perhaps, in his imagination be induced to colonise the spot with an ancient horde of Israelites!

SECRET HISTORY OF EDWARD VERE, EARL OF OXFORD.

It is an odd circumstance in literary research, that I am enabled to correct a story which was written about 1680.  The Aubrey Papers, recently published with singular faithfulness, retaining all their peculiarities, even to the grossest errors, were memoranda for the use of Anthony Wood’s great work.  But beside these, the Oxford antiquary had a very extensive literary correspondence; and it is known, that when speechless and dying he evinced the fortitude to call in two friends to destroy a vast multitude of papers:  about