ladyship in the quiet of his own chamber, and chose the most dramatic moment for exploding it.

Though the art of the anagrammatist may be despised as puerile, none can deny its difficulty. Where the letters are few the field is indeed circumscribed within comparatively easy limits of transposition; but the possible changes on a large series of letters exceed all but a mathematician's belief.

A bare dozen of letters, for example, will admit of more than 729,000,000 transpositions. Literally, it is mind on the one hand against chaotic infinity on the other. The patience of Penelope herself would be exhausted in such assiduous doing and undoing as the process seems to require. The vexation of oft-repeated effort and proximate success resulting in fruitless labor is racily expressed by Camden: “Some have been seen to bite their pens, scratch their heads, bend their brows, bite their lips, beat their board, tear their paper, when they were fair for somewhat and caught nothing herein." Addison, who numbers anagrams among his examples of false wit, tells with unnecessary jubilance the story of a lover who, having retired from the world to wrestle anagrammatically with his mistress's name, emerged after several months pale and worn, but triumphant. His chagrin, however, at finding that his lady's name was not what it appeared to be on the surface, not Chumley, in short, but Cholmondeley, was so great that he went mad on the spot, and finished in Bedlam what he had commenced in Boeotia.

From all which it may readily be understood why it is that after centuries of endeavor so few really good anagrams have been rolled down to us. One may assert that all the really superb anagrams now extant might be contained in a pill-box. Such a pill-box we shall aim to present to our readers. And first we offer an alphabetical group of the aptest anagrams on places, things, and persons in general:

ASTRONOMERS: Moon-Starers.

CATALOGUES: Got as a clue.

CHRISTIANITY: I cry that I sin.

CONGREGATIONALIST: Got scant religion.

CRINOLINE: Inner coil.

DEMOCRATICAL: Comical trade.

DETERMINATION: I mean to rend it.

ELEGANT: Neat leg.

FRENCH REVOLUTION: Violence run forth.

FUNERAL: Real fun.

GALLANTRIES: All great sins.

IMPATIENT: Tim in a pet.

IS PITY LOVE?: Positively.

LA SAINTE ALLIANCE: La Sainte Canaille.

LAWYERS: Sly ware.

MATRIMONY: Into my arm.

MELODRAMA: Made moral.
MIDSHIPMAN: Mind his map.
MISANTHROPE: Spare him not.
OLD ENGLAND: Golden Land.
PARADISE LOST: Reap sad toils.
PARISHIONERS: I hire parsons.

PENITENTIARY: Nay, I repent it.
POOR HOUSE: O sour hope!
POTENTATES: Ten Teapots!

PRESBYTERIAN: Best in prayer.

PUNISHMENT: Nine thumps.

SOLDIERS: Lo! I dress.

SPANISH MARRIAGES: Rash games in Paris.

SURGEON: Go, Nurse!

SWEETHEART: There we sat.

TELEGRAPHS: Great helps.

UNIVERSAL SUFFRAGE: Guess a fearful ruin.

A well-sustained effort in this word-conjuring is the following specimen : "How much there is in a word! Monastery, says I: what, that makes nasty Rome; and when I looked at it again it was evidently more nasty,-a very vile place or mean sty. Ay, monster, says I, you are found out. What monster? said the Pope. What monster? says I. Why, your own image there, stone Mary. That, he replied, is my one star, my Stella Maris, my treasure, my guide! No, said I, you should rather say my treason. Yet no arms, said he. No, quoth I, quiet may suit best, as long as you have no mastery, I mean money arts. No, said he again, those are Tory means; and Dan, my senator, will baffle them. I don't know that, said I, but I think one might make no mean story out of this one word monastery." And here, still in alphabetical order, are some of the best and most famous anagrams that have been made upon the names of celebrated individuals.

JOHN ABERNETHY: Johnny the Bear. A peculiarly appropriate epithet for this terror of hypochondriacal patients, this physician of curt speech, crusty presence, and bluff address. "Has any one," asks Southey, who knows Johnny the bear, heard his name thus anagrammatized without a smile? We may be sure he smiled and growled at the same time when he heard it himself."

SIR FRANCIS BACON, LORD KEEPER: Is born and elect for a rich Speaker. So it is usually given, as an anagram by one Tash, a contemporary of the great man, but, on testing it, we can make out only, is born and elec for a ric spek, the original being four letters short. This shows the necessity for verifying reputed anagrams. It is a sad thought that many may be passing unchallenged which are but impostures. In this case, however, deep and sustained investigation has enabled us to mend the anagram. It must have been given forth thus: SIR FRANCIS BACON, THE LORD KEEPER: Is born and elect for rich Speaker.

JOHN BUNYAN: Nu hony in a B. Execrable! one would naturally exclaim, but, as it is John's own work, we must be reverently dumb.

GENERAL BUTLER: Genl. real brute.

THOMAS CARLYLE: Cry shame to all; or, Mercy, lash a lot; or, A lot cry, "Lash me!" Just after the death of the sage and prior to the publication of his Reminiscences, the anagram a calm, holy rest was hailed as admirably significant. An enemy hath found in the same letters, clearly to sham.

CAROLUS REX: Cras ero lux (To-morrow I shall be light). An anagram which Charles II. is said to have left written on one of the windows of King's Newton Hall, in Derbyshire.

PRINCESS CHARLOTTE AUGUSTA OF WALES: P. C. He. august race is lost, O fatal news! An anagram in which British regret over the decease of the Princess Charlotte enshrined itself.

JAQUES CLEMENT, the assassin of Henry III. of France, Qui est ce mal ne? (Who is this ill-born person?). Very good from the point of view of the believer in the divine right of kings, but thrown utterly in the shade by the superiority of its corollary: FRÈRE JACQUES CLEMENT: C'est l'enfer qui m'a créé, (It was hell that created me), which may be taken as an answer to the first.

RICHARD COBDEN: Rich corn, bedad!

CHARLES DICKENS: Cheer sick lands.

DISRAELI I lead, sir. A Tory anagram, of course. The Whigs resolve the name into idle airs. But the latter found their best opportunity in the full title, DISRAELI, EARL OF BEACONSFIELD: Self-fooled, can he bear it?

JOHN DRYDEN: Rhino deny'd,-which was Glorious John's life-long complaint, in his own spelling, too.

the

PHINEAS FLETCHER: Hath Spencer life? A very good anagram, for in age after Spenser's death, Phineas Fletcher had more of his manner and spirit than almost any other poet.

GLADSTONE: G leads not. So cried the exultant Tory in apt opposition to the anagram he had coined out of the name of his great rival: DISRAELI : I lead, sir. The Whig rather weakly remonstrated that GLADSTONE doesn't lag. But though the Whig achieved small success with the family cognomen, he reaped vast and varied results with the full name, WILLIAM EWART GLADSTONE: A man to wield great wills: or, Go, administrate law well; or, I'll waste no glad war-time; or, G., a weird man we all list to; or, finally, the dubious and perplexing statement, Allowing me T. glad Erin waits.

SIR EDMUNDBURY GODFREY: I fynd murdered by rogues, and By Rome's rude finger die. These anagrams, uncouth and imperfect as they are, were circulated shortly after the death of Godfrey, the magistrate who, it will be remembered, had taken Titus Oates's deposition in regard to the pretended Popish plot, and on October 17, 1678, had been found murdered on the south side of Primrose Hill.

HENRY HALLAM: Real manly H. H.

RANDLE HOLMES: Lo! men's herald. This very apt anagram was prefixed to Holmes's well-known heraldic work, "The Academy of the Armory," 1688. SELINA, COUNTESS OF HUNTINGDON: See! sound faith clings to no nun. DOUGLAS JERROLD: Sure, a droll dog!

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW: Won half the New World's glory. MARTIN LUTHER : Lehrt in armuth (He teaches in poverty). The Latinized form of the name yields even more remarkable results. For example, MARTINUS LUTHERUS, Vir multa struens (The man who builds up much), and Ter matris vulnus (Three wounds to the mother,-church is of course understood). D. MARTINUS LUTHERUS: Ut turri. das lumen (Like a tower you give light). But most apt of all is the form DOCTOR MARTINUS LUTHERUS: ORom, Luther ist der Schwan (O Rome, Luther is the Swan), an allusion to John Huss's prophecy that a swan should arise from the blood of the goose (Huss). THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY: O! a big mouth, a manly Cantab's. MARIE ANTOINETTE: Tear it, men, I atone.

THOMAS MOORE: Homo amor est (Man is love).

NAPOLEON. The anagrams made on or about the great Corsican are numberless. Thus, when he came into power, the words LA RÉVOLUTION FRANÇAISE were twisted into Véto! un Corse la finira. But in 1815 party spirit

discovered in the same words, Ai! La France veult son Roi! The best anagram on NAPOLEON BONAPARTE is the Latin one, Bona rapta leno pone! (You rascal, return your stolen goods !). Written in Greek letters, the same name affords the very best example of what is known as the reductive or subtractive anagram, thus:

HORATIO NELSON: Honor est a Nilo (Honor is from the Nile). This celebrated anagram, put in circulation when the news of the victory of the Nile arrived in England, was the work of a clergyman, the Rev. William Holden, rector of Charteris. Very inferior is the English O a nation's Hero.

FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE: Flit on, cheering angel.

NOTES AND QUERIES: Enquiries on dates; or, A question-sender; or, still better, O, send in a request.

WILLIAM NOY: I moyl in law. This anagram on the laborious AttorneyGeneral of Charles I. made a great sensation at the time. Howell, in his Letters, says, "With infinite pains and indefatigable study he came to his knowledge of the law; but I never heard a more pertinent anagram than was made of his name."

LORD PALMERSTON : So droll, pert man.

SIR ROBERT PEEL: Terrible prose.

EDGAR ALLAN POE: A long peal, read.

PILATRE DU ROSIER: Tu es proie de l'air (You are the prey of the air), peculiarly appropriate to the unfortunate aeronaut who fell from his balloon, June 15, 1785, but an omitted and a redundant e rob the anagram of the higher meed of praise. The suggested amendment, Tu es P. R., Roi de l'air (You are P. R., King of the Air), is puerile.

JOHN RUSKIN: No ink-rush I!

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE: I ask me, has Will a peer? Though Shakespeare provided against the shaking up of his bones, he uttered no curse upon those who should disturb the letters of his name. At the hands of the ruthless anagrammatists they have been made to yield strange and varied results. As good as any is the above, though there is some virtue in I swear he is like a lamp. The alternative spelling WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE produces We praise him, ask all, which is somewhat forced and stilted.

ROBERT SOUTHEY: Robust hero yet. This is from the pen of an admirer. An enemy is responsible for the following: Be thou Sour Tory.

MARIA STEUARTA: Veritas armata (armed truth), evidently by an admirer of the unfortunate Queen of Scots. A more remarkable anagrammatic feat is MARIA STEUARDA, SCOTORUM REGINA: Trusa vi regnis, morte amara cado (Thrust by force from my kingdoms, I fall by a bitter death).

CHARLES JAMES STUART: He asserts a just claim. This anagram on the Pretender was highly popular with the Jacobites, who also found in the same name, claims Arthur's seat; and in CHARLES, PRINCE of Wales, Al France cries, O help us! Taylor, the Water Poet, had already found in CHARLES

STUART (ie., Charles I.) cals true harts, which illustrates the necessity of being acquainted with the orthographic licenses of the period to which an anagram belongs. But Taylor was a clumsy anagrammatist at best.

JAMES STUART: A just master; a famous anagram by the poet Sylvester in dedicating to James I. his translation of Du Bartas.

SWEDISH NIGHTINGALE: Sing high, sweet Linda! a rather successful compliment to Jenny Lind, under her sobriquet.

ALFRED TENNYSON: Ferny land notes; or, Fans one tenderly. Slightly better is this: ALFRED TENNYSON, POET LAUREATE: Neat sonnet or deep tearful lay. GEORGE THOMPSON: O go, the negro's M. P. This excellent anagram on the name of the noted advocate of negro emancipation derives additional interest from the fact that it was made by a friend at a time when Thompson was hesitating whether to accept a seat in the House of Commons, and is said to have decided him to do so.

Touchet, Marie (mistress of Charles IX.): Je charme tout (I charm all). UNITED STATES: In te Deus stat (God stands in thee), and, as a sort of corollary to this statement, Inde tute stas (hence thou standest safely). Other Latin anagrams, less excellent because their application is less immediately apparent, are the following: Dentatus est (he has teeth,-he evidently meaning Uncle Sam). Desiste, nutat (hands off! it shakes), apt enough in 1861, when it was made, but not at present. Siste, nudat te (stop! he strips thee). Et ista desunt (those things are also wanting), and A te desistunt (they keep off from thee).

VICTORIA, ENGLAND'S QUEEN: Governs a nice quiet land. Her majesty herself should be startled out of her habitual composure at the enigmatic result obtained from HER MOST GRACIOUS MAJESTY ALEXANDRINA VICTORIA: Ah, my extravagant, joco-serious radical minister!

WATT, JAMES: Wait, steam, or A steam wit.

ARTHUR WELLESLEY: Truly he'll see war; or, Rules the war yell; or, Rule earthly swell (the latter expressing the opinion of those detractors who, while the duke was alive, accused him of being hard and worldly). But best is the following: ARthur Wellesley, Duke of WELLINGTON: Let well-foil'd Gaul secure thy renown.

A number of very clever burlesque anagrams were contributed to Macmillan's Magazine in 1862 by an anonymous hand. Some of these are worth quoting, as, for example:

JEREMY BENTHAM: The body of Jeremy Bentham never was buried. By his own directions it was kept above ground, a wax fac-simile of his face and head being fitted on to his skeleton, and his own silver hair, and the hat and clothes he usually wore, being placed on the figure, so as to make an exact representation of him sitting in his chair as when alive. Perhaps his notion was that his school would last, and that he should be wheeled in to preside at their annual meetings in that ghastly form. At all events, the figure was long kept by the late Dr. Southwood Smith, and is now in one of the London museums. No one can look at it without disgust at such an exhibition,-the too literal fulfilment of the senile whim of an old man. His very name contains the punishment of the whim: Feer my bent ham.

OLIVER CROMWELL: More clover, Will,-an anagram beautifully representing Oliver's life when he was a quiet farmer and had a servant lad named William; or, Welcomer r-l viol, which expresses the opinion of Oliver's adherents that he was a better first fiddle than the martyr-monarch. Observe