Arms have no more security than surnames.  I bear azure powdered with trefoils or, with a lion’s paw of the same armed gules in fesse.  What privilege has this to continue particularly in my house?  A son-in-law will transport it into another family, or some paltry purchaser will make them his first arms.  There is nothing wherein there is more change and confusion.

But this consideration leads me, perforce, into another subject.  Let us pry a little narrowly into, and, in God’s name, examine upon what foundation we erect this glory and reputation for which the world is turned topsy-turvy:  wherein do we place this renown that we hunt after with so much pains?  It is, in the end, Peter or William that carries it, takes it into his possession, and whom it only concerns.  O what a valiant faculty is hope, that in a mortal subject, and in a moment, makes nothing of usurping infinity, immensity, eternity, and of supplying its master’s indigence, at its pleasure, with all things he can imagine or desire!  Nature has given us this passion for a pretty toy to play withal.  And this Peter or William, what is it but a sound, when all is done? or three or four dashes with a pen, so easy to be varied that I would fain know to whom is to be attributed the glory of so many victories, to Guesquin, to Glesquin, or to Gueaquin? and yet there would be something of greater moment in the case than in Lucian, that Sigma should serve Tau with a process; for

                         “Non levia aut ludicra petuntur
                    Praemia;”

     ["They aim at no slight or jocular rewards.”—­AEneid, xii. 764.]

the chase is there in very good earnest:  the question is, which of these letters is to be rewarded for so many sieges, battles, wounds, imprisonments, and services done to the crown of France by this famous constable?  Nicholas Denisot—­[Painter and poet, born at Le Mans,1515.]—­ never concerned himself further than the letters of his name, of which he has altered the whole contexture to build up by anagram the Count d’Alsinois, whom he has handsomely endowed with the glory of his poetry and painting.  The historian Suetonius was satisfied with only the meaning of his name, which made him cashier his father’s surname, Lenis, to leave Tranquillus successor to the reputation of his writings.  Who would believe that Captain Bayard should have no honour but what he derives from the deeds of Peter Terrail; and that Antonio Iscalin should suffer himself to his face to be robbed of the honour of so many navigations and commands at sea and land by Captain Paulin and the Baron de la Garde?  Secondly, these are dashes of the pen common to a thousand people.  How many are there, in every family, of the same name and surname? and how many more in several families, ages, and countries?  History tells us of three of the name of Socrates, of five Platos, of eight Aristotles, of seven Xenophons, of twenty Demetrii,