over ourselves, national struggles which have
been productive of great results—these may be
used with great propriety, and it is somewhat
remarkable that they have hitherto been so
little employed. We have, indeed, a Constitution-
hill, but the name is hardly ever used. It
is a good one, and might very well be
transferred to a neighbouring thoroughfare now in
course of reconstruction, and which is at
present named after the original proprietor of the
ground over which the thoroughfare in
question passes. A name of this sort would not be
ill suited to our new river-side street, and no
doubt a few events in our national history which
are worthy of commemoration might still be
found if we looked for them—Magna Charta,
the Commonwealth, or the Reformation, to
wit.

But perhaps after all, in considering this
question, the most hopeful manner of proceeding
would be to examine, carefully, what this new
road is, what are its peculiar characteristics,
local and otherwise, and to make some
endeavours to find a name for it which might
indicate what sort of a street it is, and which, at
the same time, should have enough of dignity
about it to make it worthy of association with so
important a thoroughfare.

In most of those cases in which the name
given to a street—at home or abroad—has been
bestowed because of some peculiarity in the
street itself, the result has been satisfactory.
"Under the Lindens," the translated name of a
well-known German street; the Montagne de la
Cour, at Brussels; the Boulevart, at Paris, with
its many secondary designations, or the Lung'
Arno at Florence—these are all instances of
streets, rejoicing in very good names, given in
every case because of some distinctive
characteristic belonging to the individual thoroughfare.
Nay, in our own town we have similar examples,
and we are none of us disposed to quarrel with
such street names as Pall-Mall, the Strand,
Long Acre, or Wood-street.

Designations that mean something always have
a peculiar attractiveness. "Central Avenue"
and "Broadway"—especially conspicuous in a
country where the practice of numbering the
streets obtains—are both good names for streets.
So with our own Parliament street, or Abchurch-
lane, or even with our South streets and North
streets, which at least mean something, if only
that the streets in question run in certain
northerly or southerly directions.

Acting upon this principle of—if possible—
finding for the new thoroughfare a name with
a meaning in it, it becomes necessary, above all
things, to examine exactly what this Thames
Embankment is. It is a piece of ground
artificially made, and reclaimed at the expense
of much money and labour from the Thames
mud. It is a piece of ground which links the
eastern to the western extremity of our town;
it forms the immediate bank of the river Thames,
and follows its course closely. It is entirely
central, running through the very heart of the
metropolis, and it will in all probability, at
once, on its completion, take the first place
among our business streets. Turning from
what the street is to be, to what it is not to be,
we may safely affirm that it is not to be a
pleasure thoroughfare, or a fashionable lounge,
or a mere river-side promenade. Lastly, it is
not to be a street, at least not in the usual
acceptation of the term, but rather a road or
way. It remains now to consider what this
road or way, when it is completed, shall be
called.

First of all then, as being a piece of reclaimed
ground artificially made, it would be natural to
call the new thoroughfare by the name already
in use, and to which we are accustomed—
Thames Embankment. Or if this is too long,
"the Embankment" alone might be sufficient;
or we might take a name already bestowed on a
row of small houses near Chelsea, and call it
"Thames Bank." Secondly, and because this
piece of ground follows the exact course of the
river, it would be legitimate to call it "River-way,"
or "Thames-way," this last a designation
for which something has, I believe, already
been said, and which is excellent. On the same
principle the whole line of thoroughfare might
with propriety be called "the Quays," these
again being subdivided (as in Paris) into
"Westminster Quay," "the Temple Quay,"
"Blackfriars Quay," et cætera; retaining some
of the old names, and adding others. Of
course, were it not that the name is already
appropriated, it would be natural to call this
new line of road "the Strand," which it actually
is. This, however, would necessitate the
conferring of a new name on the original
Strand, and might lead to some degree of
confusion. Perhaps the best way, if this name
came to be adopted, would be to call the Thames
Embankment "the New Strand," and to give
the name of "the Old Strand" to the existing
street of that name. This would be a rational
and simple proceeding enough.

One other consideration might be worth a
thought. The central nature of the new
thoroughfare might perhaps properly influence our
judgment in selecting a name for it. There are
some people who, it is likely, might wish to
confer on it a designation indicative of its situation
in the very heart of the town, and of the enormous
amount of traffic which seems likely to
fall to its share. Such names as "Central-way,"
or "Middle-way," ''Traffic-street,"
"London-way," or some modification of these,
or approximations to them, might, by some, be
thought worth considering, always bearing in
mind, however, that this is a case in which it
will not do to be too fanciful. Were this a less
important street than it is likely to be, it would
be very easy to give it a name; but when one
reflects how continually that name, whatever it
may ultimately be, will be in everybody's mouth,
it is impossible not to feel that the choice of a
fit designation for it is almost a momentous
question. It must be short, capable of being
"spoken trippingly on the tongue," must be