[6] I have observed another error in the Cambridge edition, 1818, p. 115., last line but five, "domum manere" instead of the original and classical reading, "domi manere." That misprint of 1818 is followed by the Oxford edition of 1848, vol. iv. p. 77. l. 12., Apol. pars vi. cap. 8. div. 1.
I have said that the Oxford Jewel of 1848 professes to follow the Latin Apology of 1562, as a copy of the Latin title, with the date 1562, is prefixed to the Oxford edition, vol. iv. p. 1.: but the colophon appended to that reprint, p. 95., is strangely dated 1567. Was there any Latin edition of the Apology printed in that year? And, if so, why are different dates given for the title and colophon of the Oxford reprint? One can only conclude that the date 1567 is itself an error.
The following is printed in vol. viii. p. 290., l. 11., from Lady Bacon's translation of Jewel's Apology, 1564, part ii. ch. 7. div. 5.: "As touching the Bishop of Rome, for all his parasites state and ringly sing those words in his ears, 'To thee will I give the keys of the kingdom of heaven,'" &c. This case is different from those mentioned above, in the respect that the words "state and ringly" do occur in the printed edition of 1564; but it scarcely need be observed that the words "state & ringly" are a misprint for "flatteringly," when it is added that Jewel himself, in his revised edition of Lady Bacon's translation, in the Defence of the Apology, 1567 and 1570, reads: "for all that his flattering parasites sing these words in his ears." The original Latin is "quamvis illi suaviter cantilentur illa verba a parasitis suis."
There are also various errors and several omissions in the Oxford Jewel, in the verification of the numerous references. Among various notes (I would however add) which are inaccurate, and several that appear to me superfluous, there are some which are most useful, as, for example, that in vol. ii. p. 195., on the Gloss in the Canon Law, "Our Lord God the Pope."
COLET.
ANAGRAMS.
You have now completed the third volume of "NOTES AND QUERIES," and, to the no small surprise of all lovers of "jeux de mots," not a single specimen of the genus Anagram has found its way into your columns. To what are we to ascribe such a circumstance? The ancients were not ashamed to indulge in this intellectual pastime, and their anagrams, says Samuel Maunder, occasionally contained some happy allusion. The moderns have given unequivocal proofs of their fecundity in the same line, and the anagrammatic labours of the French nation alone would form several volumes. Indeed, to that nation belongs the honour of having introduced the anagram; and such is the estimation in which "the art" was held by them at one time, that their kings were provided with a salaried Anagrammatist, as ours are with a pensioned Laureate. How comes it then that a species of composition, once so popular, has found no representative among the many learned correspondents of your popular periodical? Has the anagram become altogether extinct, or is it only awaiting the advent of some competent genius to restore it to its proper rank in the republic of letters?
To me it is clear that the real cause of the prevailing dearth of anagrams is the great difficulty of producing good ones. Good anagrams are, to say the least of it, quite as scarce as good epic poems; for, if it be true that the utmost efforts of the human intellect have not given birth to more than six good epic poems, it is no less true that the utmost exertion of human ingenuity has not brought forth more than half a dozen good anagrams. Some critics are of opinion that we do possess six good epic poems. Now, where shall we find six good anagrams? If they exist, let them be exhibited in the pages of "NOTES AND QUERIES."
Indeed, it may be said that the anagram and the epic poem are the alpha and omega of literature. I am aware that by thus placing them in juxtaposition the contrast may have the effect of disparaging the anagram. The epic poem will naturally enough suggest the idea of the sublime, and the anagram, as naturally, that of the ridiculous: and then it will be said that between the two there is but a step. But let any gentleman make the experiment, and he will find that, instead of a step, the intermediate space will present to his astonished legs a surface co-extensive with the wide field of modern mediocrity. As for myself, I have ransacked in search of anagrams every hole and corner in ancient and modern literature, and have found very few samples worthy of the name. Reserving the ancients for future consideration, let us see what the moderns have to boast of in this respect.
And first, what says Isaac Disraeli? Anagrams being literary curiosities, one would naturally expect to meet with some respectable samples of them in that writer's Curiosities of Literature. Yet, what do we find? Among about a score which he quotes, there is not one that can be reckoned a tolerable anagram, while by far the greater number are no anagrams at all. An anagram is the change of a word or sentence into another word or sentences by an exact transposition of the letters. Where a single letter is either omitted or added, the anagram is incomplete. Of this description are the following, cited by Disraeli:—