d be capable of entertaining a
notion in his head, so out of the common track,--that I fear the reader,
when I come to mention it to him, if he is the least of a cholerick
temper, will immediately throw the book by; if mercurial, he will laugh
most heartily at it;--and if he is of a grave and saturnine cast, he
will, at first sight, absolutely condemn as fanciful and extravagant;
and that was in respect to the choice and imposition of christian names,
on which he thought a great deal more depended than what superficial
minds were capable of conceiving.

His opinion, in this matter, was, That there was a strange kind of
magick bias, which good or bad names, as he called them, irresistibly
impressed upon our characters and conduct.

The hero of Cervantes argued not the point with more seriousness,--nor
had he more faith,--or more to say on the powers of necromancy in
dishonouring his deeds,--or on Dulcinea's name, in shedding lustre upon
them, than my father had on those of Trismegistus or Archimedes, on
the one hand--or of Nyky and Simkin on the other. How many Caesars
and Pompeys, he would say, by mere inspiration of the names, have been
rendered worthy of them? And how many, he would add, are there, who
might have done exceeding well in the world, had not their characters
and spirits been totally depressed and Nicodemus'd into nothing?

I see plainly, Sir, by your looks, (or as the case happened) my father
would say--that you do not heartily subscribe to this opinion of
mine,--which, to those, he would add, who have not carefully sifted it
to the bottom,--I own has an air more of fancy than of solid reasoning
in it;--and yet, my dear Sir, if I may presume to know your character, I
am morally assured, I should hazard little in stating a case to you, not
as a party in the dispute,--but as a judge, and trusting my appeal upon
it to your own good sense and candid disquisition in this matter;--you
are a person free from as many narrow prejudices of education as
most men;--and, if I may presume to penetrate farther into you,--of a
liberality of genius above bearing down an opinion, merely because it
wants friends. Your son,--your dear son,--from whose sweet and open
temper you have so much to expect.--Your Billy, Sir!--would you, for
the world, have called him Judas?--Would you, my dear Sir, he would say,
laying his hand upon your breast, with the genteelest address,--and
in that soft and irresistible piano of voice, which