attracted the notice of Gower, and is told in the Confessio Amantis; in this the lion is omitted. Matthew Paris gives it as an apologue told by Richard the Lion Heart. He says: About this time a remarkable circumstance happened to a rich and miserly Venetian, which we think it worth while to insert in this place. His name was Vitalis, and when he was on the point of giving his daughter in marriage, he went into a large forest near the sea to provide delicacies for the table. As he wandered alone through the forest, with his bow and arrows ready, and intent on taking venison, he suddenly fell into a pit-fall which had been cunningly set for the lions, bears, and wolves, out of which he found it impossible to escape, because the bottom of it was so wide and the mouth so narrow. Here he found two fierce animals, a lion and a serpent, which had also by accident fallen in; and Vitalis signing himself with the cross, neither of them, though fierce and hungry, ventured to attack him. All that night he spent in this pit, crying and moaning, and expecting with lamentations the approach of so base a death. A poor wood-cutter, passing by chance that way to collect faggots, heard his cries, which seemed to come from beneath the ground, and following the sound till it came to the pit's mouth, he looked in and called out, "Who is there?" Vitalis sprang up, rejoiced beyond measure, and eagerly replied, "It is I, Vitalis, a Venetian, who, knowing nothing of these pit-falls, fell in, and shall be devoured by wild beasts; besides which I am dying of hunger and terror. There are two fierce animals here, a lion and a serpent, but, by God's protection and the sign of the cross, they have not yet hurt me, and it remains for you to save me that I may afterwards show you my gratitude. If you will save me, I will give you half of all my property, namely, five hundred talents, for I am worth a thousand." The poor man answered, "I will do as you request, if you will be as good as your word." Upon this Vitalis pledged himself on oath to do as he had promised. Whilst they were speaking, the lion by a bland movement of his tail, and serpent by a gentle hissing, signified to the poor man their approbation, and seemed to join in Vitalis's request to be delivered. The poor man immediately went home for a ladder and ropes, with which he returned and let the ladder down into the pit, without anyone to help him. Immediately the lion and serpent, striving which should be first, mounted by the rounds of the ladder and gave thanks to the poor man, crouching at his feet, for their deliverance. The wood-cutter, approaching Vitalis, kissed his hand, saying, "Long live this hand! I am glad to say that I have earned my bargain," and with these words he conducted Vitalis until they came to a road with which he was acquainted. When they parted, the poor man asked when and where Vitalis would discharge his promise. "Within four days,” said Vitalis, “in Venice, in my own palace, which is well known and easy to find." The countryman returned home to dinner, and as he was sitting at table, the lion entered with a dead goat, as a present in return for his deliverance, and having laid it down, took his leave without doing any hurt. The countryman, however, wishing to see where so tame an animal lay, followed him to his den, the lion all the time licking his feet, and then came back to his dinner. The serpent now came also and brought with him in his mouth a precious stone, which he laid in the countryman's plate. The same proceedings again took place as before. After two or three days the rustic, carrying the jewel with him, went to Venice, to claim from Vitalis his promise. He found him feasting with his neighbours in joy for his deliverance, and said to him, "Friend, pay me what you owe me." "Who art thou?" replied Vitalis, "and what dost thou want?" "I want the five hundred talents you promised me." "Do you expect," replied Vitalis, "to get so easily the money which I have had so much difficulty to amass?" and, as he said these words, he ordered his servants to cast the rash man into prison. But the rustic, by a sudden spring, escaped out of the house, and told what had happened to the judges of the city. When, however, they were a little incredulous, he showed them the jewel which the serpent had given him, and immediately one of them, perceiving that it was of great value, bought it off the man at a high price. But the countryman further proved the truth of his words by conducting some of the citizens to the dens of the lion and the serpent, when the animals again fawned on him as before. The judges were thus convinced of his truth, and compelled Vitalis to fulfil the promise which he had given, and to make compensation for the injury which he had done the poor man. This story was told by King Richard to expose the conduct of ungrateful men. Finally, it is found in that storehouse of Eastern legend, the Calilah u Dimnah. This was translated by Doni into Italian, and an English rendering of his version appeared in 1570. Massenius may have obtained the story either from the Gesta or from this book of Doni. It is very probable that many other versions exist. But does Mr. Newbigging's poem really represent a Lancashire tradition? To solve this doubt the readiest way was to put the question to him. The following is his reply: : With some differences my "reverend Grannie" used to relate the story to amuse my childhood. I cannot help smiling when I look back and remember the time when, if some casualty, such as an unusually wet night, or a "hawket heel," or any of the thousand and one ills attendant on boyhood, kept me chained to the fireside, my invariable petition was, "Grannie! gie's auld Guy!” (she gave the hero's name as Guy, not Gamul, as I have given it) and forthwith "Auld Guy" was related for the fiftieth time by the same patient lips, and to the same eager listener. I had never been able, though I had looked long and carefully, to find anything like it in print. My good grandam (who was a rare old Scotch woman, full of old-world lore) heard the story from her father, and she believed that he had read it in some old book. Doubtless this ancestor of Mr. Newbigging's read the story in one of the many editions of the Gesta Romanorum, which was for centuries a favourite story book. The name of Guido clearly indicates the source. It is a striking instance of the passage of literature into legend. In fifty years from now Mr. Newbigging's poem would be considered no light proof of the existence of a Lancashire variant of the story; yet, as we have just learned, it has no connection with Rossendale, but came from Scotland, and even then was a book tale and not a genuine legend. This instance will not have been cited in vain if it warns any too enthusiastic student "folk-lorist" of the pitfalls that beset his path. GEORGE OUTRAM AND A DISPUTED SOON EPIGRAM. BY JOHN JACKSON. COON after the death of Mr. James Crossley, there appeared in the Palatine Note-book (October, 1883) a biographical sketch, in which the famous Manchester collector was credited, on the evidence of his pocket-book for 1872, with the following epigram, found there in his handwriting : The ladies praise your curate's eyes, I never saw their light divine, A correspondence followed in the Manchester Guardian, in which several persons, including the present writer, joined. It was claimed that the epigram was by George Outram. The correct form is : EPIGRAM ON HEARING A LADY PRAISE A CERTAIN REV. DOCTOR'S EYES. I cannot praise the doctor's eyes, I never saw his glance divine; He always shuts them when he prays, And when he preaches closes mine. I think "doctor" and not "curate" the proper word. A curate does not shut his eyes when he prays-at least not as a rule. A clerical doctor of the Church of Scotland, although at liberty either to open or shut his eyes, generally shuts them, and the doctor referred to always shut them. English lawyers and others would derive much pleasure from Outram, and should make his acquaintance. The full title of his book is "Lyrics Legal and Miscellaneous. By the late George Outram, Esq. Edited (with introductory notice) by the late Henry Glassford Bell, Esq., advocate, sheriff of Lanarkshire. William Blackwood and Son, Edinburgh and London, 1874." George Outram was born on the 25th March, 1805, at Clyde Ironworks, near Glasgow. He received his early education in the High School of Leith, and afterwards went through the regular curriculum of the University of Edinburgh. In 1827 he became a member of the Faculty of Advocates, and for the next ten years continued to attend the Parliament House, where his genial disposition and quaint humour made him a favourite with both bench and bar. Being of a retiring nature, he did not lay himself out for much legal practice, and in 1837 he accepted an unexpected offer of the editorship of the Glasgow Herald. He married before he left Edinburgh, and became the father of four sons, but one of whom was living in 1874, and he had one daughter who died in infancy. He died on the 15th September, 1856, in the fifty-second year of his age, and was buried in Warriston Cemetery, Edinburgh. The poems contained in this volume are stated by the editor to be a selection from "a more ample manuscript volume in which many of the author's compositions had luckily been preserved." The editor died just when this little volume was on the eve of being given to the public, and in consequence of his death there is an addendum purporting to be the expressions of the relatives of the author, stating that the devotedness of the editor to his judicial duties had retarded the selection, which for a long period he had at heart of the specimens now given of the genius of his early and attached friend. We have here three pieces of evidence that all the picces |