but the three following show the ingenuity exercised by competitors in evolving out of the letters at their disposal sentences suiting the circumstances. The bishops' names were Trelawney, Lake, White, Turner, Saucroft, Lloyd, Kew. These letters when analyzed will be found to contain the following lines:

Keenly ye work and wrestle all for an cient truth.

highly suitable words, Je charme tout I charm everyone. Equally suitable and no less ingenious are the words evolved from the name of England's greatest admiral, Horatio Nelson. Almost immediately after the news of the Battle of the Nile reached us, some wit observed that the words Honor est a Nilo-Honor is from the Nile-lay hidden within his name. In a very different sphere of work the labors of

dark face.

O let the well known rank defy a cruel tyrant's ire.

The origin of the next anagram is not quite clear, but it very possibly is the handiwork of one of the Puritans, whose interest in these matters was, as has been said before, by no means slight. The words played upon are the Latin form of the pope's title Supremus Pontifex Romanus. These words form with no superfluous letters the clever anagram-"O non sum super Petram fixus"-I am not placed above the Rock. The following was the reply of some irreverent person to the objurgations of Peter Coster, a Jesuit priest. He took the letters forming the words Petrus Costerus Jesuita and from these he produced-Vere tu es asinus! ita!Verily thou art an ass; there! The effort was a trifle spoilt in effect by there being one or two superfluous letters remaining. This fault is not apparent in the anagram based upon Pilate's despairing words when Our Lord was before him, Quid est Veritas?-What is truth? The true and suitable rejoinder arises with absolute accuracy in the transposition, Est Vir qui adest-It is He that is present!

Such effective methods of trifling with persons' names as that furnished by means of anagrams were naturally utilized as a means of compliment or satire. An exceedingly pretty illustration of this is afforded in the play upon the letters forming the name of Charles IX.'s mistress, Marie Touchet. It was first discovered by Daurat, a Frenchman of an ingenious temperament who had a great reputation for these witticisms. The letters form the

our affection. The anagram upon her name must reflect the unuttered benediction of many a wounded hero in his hours of agony. Flit on, cheering Angel, fits the name and the woman with absolute accuracy. A graceful allusion to that most popular singer, the Swedish Nightingale, is contained in the anagram based on her name. Sing high, sweet Linda, is a neat instance of a successful exercise of ingenuity. The high religious character of the man and his renown as an explorer are alike commemorated in the transposition of the letters forming the name of David Livingstone. Were he living in the days of ancient Roman soothsayers, he would be justified in a determination to Go and visit Nile, D.V. We might add to this section of anagrams two relating to past famous politicians. Disraeli bears in his name evidence of his capacity for swaying men. I lead, Sir, is not at all an inaccurate commentary on his history; whether the production of G. leads not, out of Gladstone be true in substance as it is in form is a question of political opinion which need not be now discussed. King Charles I. is, according to tradition, credited with so shrewd a remark that one can only suspect that it is too good to be true. The day before his execution he is reported to have observed his portrait on a wall with the inscription, Carolus Rex. He is then said to have sadly remarked that these words would be more rightly read as Cras ero lux-To-morrow I shall be light.

The earliest attempt on the part of an anagrammatist to tickle the vanity of a king is that mentioned by Lyco

phron upon the names of Ptolemy, King of Egypt, and his Queen Arsinoe. No one can say that the butter was not spread with sufficient lavishness. ПITOAЕMAIO, the Greek form of Ptolemæus, can be turned into the fulsome expression—ảπò μéλɩtos, i.e., made of honey. His queen received but little less flattering treatment, her name, 'APZINOH being convertible into "Hpas lov, or Juno's Violet. The fragrance of such compliments would probably please the nostrils of any Egyptian potentate. Queen Elizabeth was, on the whole, mild in her rule at home, if harsh with the arch enemies of England, the Spanish. These two aspects of her nature are briefly summarized in the anagrams based upon the words, Elizabetha Regina Angliæ-Elizabeth, Queen of England. It runs thusAnglis agna, Hiberiæ lea-To the English a lamb, but to Spain a lioness. Here again it must be remarked, that after these words are formed there is a residuum which takes away rather from the pungency of the epigram. In a less degree the like fault is apparent in the famous lines which sum up the sad fate of Mary, Queen of Scots. Maria Steuarda Scotorum Regina represents another form of the sentence, "Trusa vi regnis morte amara cado”— Thrust by force from my kingdom, I fall by a foul death. Veritas armata (armed truth) is also an accurate anagram concerning the unfortunate Maria Stevasta. One of the most ingenious and elaborate attempts to tickle the vanity of a monarch, was that got up in the honor of the safe return of Stanislaus, king of Poland. To congratulate him a large assembly of prominent persons met together at Lissa, and arranged a dance of thirteen picked warriors, each of whom bore a shield upon which was blazoned one of the letters of the words Domus Lescinia-the House of Leczinki, the king's family name. The first position of the dancers brought the above words into notice. They then proceeded with the dance so that the letters on the shields, which were kept facing the audience, were completely disarranged; in another

moment they stood still, and it was then found that the order in which the same letters appeared produced the words Ades in columis-May you be present in safety. Again the shields wound in and out, and when the next pause came, the words were, O nis es lucida-Thou art all glorious. The same thing was done again,' and 'the' words Mane sidus loci appeared-Remain the Star of this place; two more dances were executed, after the first the sentence formed was, Sis columna Dei-Be God's pillar, and after the second, I Scande Solium-Go, ascend the Throne!

The claims of James I. of England to the British throne were thought by, the superstitious of that period to be foreshadowed by the fact that within' the words Charles James Stuart are all the necessary letters to compose Claimes Arthur's seat. His claim also to be a descendant of the mythical King Arthur was also thereby sustained. Sylvester was pleased to discover that the words James Stuart could be accurately read as, A Just Master. George Monk, Duke of Albemarle, at the restoration of Charles II., discovered in the words Georgius Monke Dux de Aumarle the almost complete anagram Ego regem reduxi Anno Sa. MDCLVV-I brought back the King in the Holy year 1660. Upon the name of Frêre Jacques Clement, the assassin of Henry III. of France, there is extant an ingenious anagram, C'est l'enfer qui m'a créé-Hell created

me.

An exceedingly clever anagram was once composed upon Dame Eleanor Davies, the wife of Sir John Davies, who lived in the time of Charles I. The poor lady suffered from some brain mischief and looked upon herself as a Heaven-sent prophetess, as the letters forming her names, omitting the title, could be twisted with slight inaccuracy into Reveal, O Daniel. She was ultimately arraigned before the Court of High Commission for treason. It is said that bishops and judges argued with her in vain, but that when the Dean of Arches discovered within the words

Dame Eleanor Davies the sentence Never so mad a ladie, the laugh which followed completely destroyed her illusions. The poor lady was probably too disturbed to be able to retort that lawyers were sly ware-but they stand self-condemned by their title. Whilst upon the subject of proper names that have been converted by anagrams into some sentence more or less descriptive of the person, it will be opportune to remember one based upon the name of John Abernethy. This famous physician was notoriously severe upon those lady patients whose symptoms betokened the evil effects of tight lacing and over-feeding. Perhaps it was some offended damsel who sought a revenge by evolving for him the title of Johnny the Bear! Equally apt was the anagram Lo! Men's Herald, based upon the name of Randle Holmes, who once wrote a very notable book upon the subject of heraldry.

Again Admiral Edward Vernon (1684-1757) earned by his operations at Porto Bello in 1739 the renown which his name contains, and Sir Thomas Wiat's humor entitled him to be regarded as a wit. It will be observed in the first of these instances the letters "w" and "v" are again used as identical. Of the poet Waller, some brother poet has said:

His brows need not with lawrel to be bound

Since in his name with lawrel is be

crowned.

In connection with poets a rather touching tale is told of Crashawe and his beloved and loving friend Car. After the death of the former, the latter acted as his posthumous editor. While engaged in this work, he discovered to his joy that his friend's name could be read He was Car. Touched to find that the unity of their thoughts thus typified by their unity of name, he wrote the following graceful lines:

Yes, Car's Crashawe, he Car: 'tis Love alone

Which melts two hearts, of both composing one.

Two more anagrams upon persons' names, out of several that deserve mention but for exigencies of space, must suffice. The first relates to the famous electrician Siemens and the cable-ship Faraday. The difficulties to be overcome in many of the operations conducted by the vessel and its owner justify the anagrams upon their namesMeans, I fear, days. The best has been left to the last. It is the extremely clever one upon the notorious claimant. Within the words Sir Roger Charles Doughty Tichborne, Baronet, are all the letters, save one, to form the sentence, You horrid butcher Orton, biggest rascal here.

It is quite remarkable the number of anagrams to be found within the letters forming the title of a contemporary-Notes and Queries. This periodical is interested in preserving many of the oddities and quiddities of literature, and is an acknowledged source for information on almost every recondite subject. This being the case its boast that it Enquires on Dates, if only correspondents will Send quite reason, is fully justified. Its title further con tains the invitation O send in a request, an offer directed to a question sender. Its good offices are open to all; perhaps the editor would be willing to say-No end as I request. Finally its allegiance is given to Queens and Tories, and from cover to cover "it tires no sad Queen;" in fact royalties dispute as to who shall read it first, and the settlement of this dispute "ends a Queen's riot." Our contemporary the Saturday Review does not come off so well, for its title betrays that it contains Heavy wit treasured.

George Herbert has discovered in Roma no less than six other Latin words, viz.: Oram (shore), Maro (Virgil), Ramo, (branch), Armo (I arm), Mora, (delay), and Amor (love). Turn

Car,

Since both within one name combined are?

of anagrams, we shall see that they are none the less apposite. For instance,

astronomers, in spite of their derivative meaning, are certainly “moon-starers," and in communicating their labors to one another they will assuredly find the telegraph to be a "great help." It is not very likely that even in the remote future they will be able to claim that they have "no more stars" to examine. Let us turn from science to society. Frenchmen wrote that liberté was "belitre;" while unquestionably the French Revolution was "Violence run forth." Ireland was the country of the great Daniel R. O'Connor, a fact well known to every Erin lad; perhaps some folks would say that her present would-be potentates could no more govern her than "ten tea-pots." Doubtless this is not the opinion of Democratics, but they represent such "comic trades" that their opinion does not count for much. Moreover they believe in all sorts of Radical Reforms, such as others clearly see are "rare mad frolics." Even ladies are now advocating some form or other of universal suffrage which their husbands, perhaps, would "guess a fearful ruin." If such ladies were placed in a penitentiary there might be a large number who would sincerely recant and say "Nay, I repent it," but for the sake of discipline they should not be released before receiving for punishment, "nine thumps." A merciful matron would be willing, doubtless, to dismiss them with such an excellent breakfast, as would make "fat bakers," and thereby impress upon them the necessity of carefully protecting all the customers of Old England, our "Golden Land."

Great Britain's promising offspring Tasmania is much to be commiserated. She is said to have forsaken her old name of Van Diemen's Land, as it sounded somewhat diabolical in origin. It is clear, however, that his infernal majesty will not lightly yield his dominion, for in Tasmania we find the startling announcement, "I am Satan."

The above form a very representative collection of these forms of word-spinning. As to the value of such trifles in the present high pressure of life, it is nil; but we must never forget that a

few years back the French Court was provided with its official poet. It may be that in a short time the latter will become as extinct as the former. The diminution of the dignity and impor tance of the office indicates a general trend of opinion in that direction. Useless as they undoubtedly are, the manufacture of anagrams calls for far more intellectual effort than the "missing word" competitions so popular a year or two back. The French have ever favored anagrams possibly, as was once said, because they are so akin to the national character, so brilliant and at the same time so absolutely impractical. In England we are not likely to meet a counterpart to the French lover who presented his bride with thirty-six anagrams on her name, nor in the present year of grace are we likely to find a woman who, in the midst of her daily worries, would become soon "calm in heart" as did one Martha Nicholson on finding that her name revealed with almost complete accuracy this state of peacefulness. Nevertheless ingenuity of all kinds appeals to the English mind and awakes a sympathetic response. It would be difficult to find any play upon words more genuinely clever than some of the anagrams mentioned in this article.

From The Saturday Review. "THE SEVEN SEAS."

A new volume of poems by Mr. Rudyard Kipling is an apparition of very considerable moment. It can hardly be questioned that among English-speaking authors of less than thirty-five years of age he is by a neck and shoulders the most prominent. His vitality and force are so extraordinary that they sweep the goddess of Criticism off her legs. A new book of Mr. Kipling's is received nowadays by a throng of eulogistic reviewers whose unanimity would do credit to a chorus at the opera. There is no doubt that Mr. Kipling, who is as adroit as he is masterful, encourages and determines this choral burst of praise. We do not

for a moment mean to suggest that he leads the claque in any secret way (he is far too big a personage for that), but he very astutely lays down the line which the reviews are to take in discussing his published writings. In the present volume, for instance, the cynical reader will turn to a little group of literary allegories with peculiar pleasure. "The Last Rhyme of True Thomas," "In the Neolithic Age," "The Story of Ung," "The Three-Decker" all excessively clever and all written to instruct the reviewer what he is to say, to tell him what his attitude must be. He is to insure the creator, the manly maker of music, who "sings of all we fought and feared and felt," against "criticism," by which Mr. Kipling invariably means malignant and envious attack, since no other form of critical analysis seems ever to have occurred to him. The public likes this defiant attitude, and the great majority of the reviewers are abashed by it. The consequence is that Mr. Kipling is now on the verge of finding himself able to put off the English world with anything he likes, however blunt and ragged and undistinguished. "There are nine and sixty ways of constructing tribal lays," he shouts over and over again. No, dear Mr. Kipling, there is only one way, that which "all your great forefathers used, from Homer down to Ben." (We beg pardon, it is now spelt "'Omer.") You had mastered that way once. How have you unlearned it?

tion. He is this and that and the other, he possesses splendid gifts and qualities, but he has "forgotten his first love," his early artist's passion for pure and beautiful writing. His work, as revealed in the new volume, has still great and attractive merits, of which we will now proceed to speak without stint, but the author has "forgotten his first love."

If our mission at this moment were to attract a neglectful world to the study of Mr. Kipling's "Seven Seas," it would be an easy and agreeable task to do so. His imperial spirit, embracing the world of English-speaking races, is as wide as ever. The richness of his vocabulary knows no exhaustion; his contempt for conventional tradition in style is buoyant and refreshing; at his best he displays no reduction of the power to pour forth verbal melody of an enchanting kind. Of the Kipling who can write

'Twas nodding grass nd naked sky, "Twas blue above and bent below,

Where, checked against the wastrel wind, The red deer belled to call his doe, we can scarcely bring ourselves to hint a fault. His genius for entering into the sentiments and adopting the point of view of adventurous and unlucky persons, especially in remote countries, remains as extraordinary as ever. In such a stanza as this, where the Banjo speaks, we find the quintessence of Mr. Kipling's genius:

Let the organ moan her sorrow to the roof

I have told the naked stars the Grief of
Man!

proof

I have known Defeat, and mocked it as we ran!

My bray ye may not alter nor mistake

When I stand to jeer the fatted Soul of

Things,

But the Song of Lost Endeavor that I make,

Is it hidden in the twanging of the strings?

And "The Last Chantey" may be taken as an almost perfect example of success in a species of poem where success