Georgius Monke, Dux de Aumarle. 
    Ego regem reduxi An deg.Sa.  MDCLVV.

A slight reversing of the letters in a name produced a happy compliment; as in Vernon was found Renoun; and the celebrated Sir Thomas Wiat bore his own designation in his name, a Wit.[114] Of the poet Waller the anagrammatist said,

    His brows need not with Lawrel to be bound,
    Since in his name with Lawrel he is crown’d.

Randle Holmes, who has written a very extraordinary volume on heraldry, was complimented by an expressive anagram:—­

    Lo, Men’s Herald!

These anagrams were often devoted to the personal attachments of love or friendship.  A friend delighted to twine his name with the name of his friend. Crashawe, the poet, had a literary intimate of the name of Car, who was his posthumous editor; and, in prefixing some elegiac lines, discovers that his late friend Crashawe was Car; for so the anagram of Crashawe runs:  He was Car. On this quaint discovery, he has indulged all the tenderness of his recollections:—­

    Was Car then Crashawe, or was Crashawe Car? 
    Since both within one name combined are. 
    Yes, Car’s Crashawe, he Car; ’tis Love alone
    Which melts two hearts, of both composing one,
    So Crashawe’s still the same, &c.

A happy anagram on a person’s name might have a moral effect on the feelings:  as there is reason to believe, that certain celebrated names have had some influence on the personal character.  When one Martha Nicholson was found out to be Soon calm in Heart, the anagram, in becoming familiar to her, might afford an opportune admonition.  But, perhaps, the happiest of anagrams was produced on a singular person and occasion.  Lady Eleanor Davies, the wife of the celebrated Sir John Davies, the poet, was a very extraordinary character.  She was the Cassandra of her age; and several of her predictions warranted her to conceive she was a prophetess.  As her prophecies in the troubled times of Charles I. were usually against the government, she was at length brought by them into the court of High Commission.  The prophetess was not a little mad, and fancied the spirit of Daniel was in her, from an anagram she had formed of her name—­

     ELEANOR DAVIES. 
     REVEAL O DANIEL!

The anagram had too much by an L, and too little by an s; yet Daniel and reveal were in it, and that was sufficient to satisfy her inspirations.  The court attempted to dispossess the spirit from the lady, while the bishops were in vain reasoning the point with her out of the scriptures, to no purpose, she poising text against text:—­one of the deans of the Arches, says Heylin, “shot her thorough and thorough with an arrow borrowed from her own quiver:”  he took a pen, and at last hit upon this elegant anagram: