medals." Now the words "Oh, Walter Hawkins, Esquire," makes anagrammatically, "W.H., who likes rare antiques!" exactly his idiosyncrasy as a man and a collector.
We all know how strangely "The Right Honourable William Ewart Gladstone, M.P.," spells, "I am the Whig M.P.

who'll be a traitor to England's rule:"-- may it not prove to be prophetic.

And still more strange is the fact that the words "William Ewart Gladstone" spell "Erin, we will go mad at last!" which seems only too likely.

Another curious anagram is this,--in a far different vein: "Christmas comes but once a year," makes "So by Christ came a rescue to man." There's no end to these petty word miracles.
But to revert to our theme and to conclude it.

As a West India merchant, Mr.Hawkins one day sent me down to Albury a hogshead of sugar and some sacks of rice, to be given (or, as he preferred it, sold at half price for honour's sake and not to pauperise) to my poorer neighbours for a Christmas gift.