romyard's "Summa
Predicantium." After describing the discovery of the club it says, "in
quo Anglice scriptum erat"--

"Wyht fuyle a betel be he smetyn,
That al the werld hyt mote wyten,
That gyfht his sone al his thing,
And goht hym self a beggyn."

Mr. Wright gives another version, and adds that he is inclined to think
that the story and verses had some connection with "a superstition not
yet forgotten, which is thus told by Aubrey in his 'Remains of Gentilism'"
(Thorn's "Anecdotes and Traditions," p. 84)--"The Holy Mawle, which
they fancy was hung behind the church door, which when the father was
seaventie, the sonne might fetch to knock his father in the head, as
effete and of no more use."[34]

Herodotus has attributed the same unfilial conduct to some Indian
tribes.

The incident of St. Bernard playing at dice for a soul (p. 151), is in
the "Gesta Romanorum." The anecdote how a son induced his father to
become a monk (p. 81) which is quoted from the "Vitas Patrum" is also in
the "Gesta Romanorum," and has so much of the Buddhist flavour as to
give rise to the suspicion that it comes from an Oriental source.[35]
The story of two merchants quoted from Petrus Alphonsus is also in the
"Gesta Romanorum." It is the foundation of Lydgate's "Two Friends," and
is beyond doubt an Eastern importation. In a MS. of the "Speculum
Laicorum," described by Prof. Ingram, the writer has transformed one of
the merchants into an Englishman.[36]

The story quoted from "Paul, the historiagraph of the Lombards" (p. 46),
is also given in the "Gesta Romanorum." Mr. Herrtage says it is
"evidently founded on the classical legend of Tarpeia." The narrative in
the chess-book is taken from Paulus Diaconus.[37]

The stratagem by which deposited money was recovered from a dishonest
trustee (p. 114) is told by Petrus Alphonsus, and is also in the "Gesta
Romanorum."

The story of the danger of drunkenness (p. 129) was a favourite with our
forefathers. It is given by John of Bromyard, and is the subject of a
fabliau which is given by Meon.[38]

The somewhat violent remedy recorded as having been adopted by
Demosthenes (p. 103) will remind some readers of a passage in the life
of St. Francis of Assisi. "He had given up," says Mrs. Oliphant,
"without hesitation, as would appear, all the indefinite sweetness of
youthful hopes. But, nevertheless, he was still young, still a man, with
human instincts and wishes, the tenderest n