Anagram (Gr. ana, 'up,' and gramma, 'a letter of the alphabet'), the transposition of the letters of a word, phrase, or short sentence, so as to form a new word or sentence. It originally signified a simple reversal of the order of letters, but has long borne the sense in which it is now used. The Cabalists attached great importance to anagrams, believing in some relation of them to the character or destiny of the persons from whose names they were formed. Plato entertained a similar notion, and the later Platonists rivalled the Cabalists in ascribing to them mysterious virtues. Although now classed among follies, or at best among ingenious trifles, anagrams formerly employed the most serious minds, and some of the Puritan writers commended the use of them. Cotton Mather, in his elegy on the death of John Wilson, the first pastor of Boston, in New England, mentions
His care to guide his flock and feed his lambs
By words, works, prayers, psalms, alms, and anagrams.
The best anagrams are such as have, in the new order of letters, some signification appropriate to that from which they are formed. It was a great triumph of the medieval anagrammatist to find in Pilate's question, 'Quid est veritas?' (What is truth?) its own answer: 'Est vir qui adest' (It is the man who is here). With equal appropriateness, Horatio Nelson may read 'Honor est a Nilo' (Honour is from the Nile), and Florence Nightingale, 'Flit on, cheering angel.' Anagrams, in the days of their popularity, were much employed, both for complimentary and for satirical purposes; and no little straining was often employed in the omission, addition, or alteration of letters, although, of course, the merit of an anagram depended much upon its accuracy. An interesting survival of anagram-making was seen in the absurd word-competitions for large money prizes, offered about the time of Queen Victoria's jubilee (1887), ostensibly to celebrate the occasion.
Marie Touchet, the name of a favourite mistress of Charles IX. of France, was read 'Je charme tout' (I charm every one); the flatterers of James I. of England found in his name, James Stuart, 'a just master,' and proved his right to the British monarchy, as the descendant of the mythical King Arthur, from his name Charles James Stuart, which becomes 'Claims Arthur's Seat.' But perhaps the happiest of anagrams was that which failed to restore the sanity of Lady Eleanor Davies, the wife of Sir John Davies the poet. The poor lady was half-crazy, and she began to fancy herself a prophetess, because she discovered that from the letters of her own name could be read 'Reveal, O Daniel.' Political prophecy was a dangerous game under Charles I., and at last she found herself arraigned before the Court of High Commission. Judge and bishop reasoned with her in vain, until the Dean of Arches laughed her out of court by finding also in her name, Dame Eleanor Davies, the unfortunate words, 'Never so mad a Ladie.'
Many of the pseudonyms adopted by authors have been merely transposed forms of their own names; thus Calvinus becomes 'Alcuinus'; François Rabelais, 'Alcofribas Nasier'; Bryan Waller Proctor, 'Barry Cornwall, poet.' The most famous name of this class, that of 'Voltaire,' was formed from 'Arouet, l. j.'—i.e. 'Arouet the younger.' See Wheatley, On Anagrams (1862).