posal of the dead, who were generally taken out and laid on the streets, where the early morn found them in heaps, exposed to the affrighted gaze of the passing stranger.'

"In other parts of the world, the conduct of the people was marked by a terrible contrition and the wildest extremes of fanaticism.'There first arose in Hungary, and afterwards in Germany, the brotherhood of the Flagellants, called also the Brethren of the Cross, or Cross-bearers, who took upon themselves the repentance of the people, for the sins they had committed, and offered prayers and supplications for the averting of this plague. This order consisted chiefly of persons of the lower class, who were either actuated by sincere contrision, or who joyfully availed themtelves of this pretext for idleness, and were hurried along with the tide of distracting frenzy. But as these brotherhoods gained in repute, and were welcomed by the people with veneration and enthusiasm, many nobles and ecclesiastics ranged themselves under their standard and their bands were not unfrequently augmented by children, honourable women, and nuns; so powerfully were minds, of the most opposite temperaments, enslaved by this infatuation. They marched through the cities, in wellorganized processions, with leaders and singers; their heads covered as far as the eyes; their look fixed on the ground, accompanied by every token of the deepest contrition and mourning. They were robed in sombre garments, with red crosses on the breast, back, and cap, and bore triple scourges, tied in three or four knots, in which points of iron were fixed. Tapers and magnificent banners of velvet and cloth of gold, were carried be

fore them; wherever they made their appearance, they were welcomed by the ringing of the bells; and the people flocked from all quarters to listen to their hymns, and to witness their penance with devotion and tears In the year 1349, two hundred Flagellants first entered Strasburg, where they were received with great joy, and hospitably lodged by the citizens.— Above a thousand joined the brotherhood, which now assumed the appearance of a wandering tribe, and separated into two bodies, for the purpose of journeying to the north and to the south. For more than half a year new parties arrived weekly; and, on each arrival, adults and children left their families to accompany them, till at length their sanctity was questioned, and the doors of houses and churches were closed against them. At Spires, two hundred boys, of twelve years of age and under, constituted themselves into a brotherhood of the Cross, in imitation of the children, who, about a hundred years before, had united, at the instigation of some fanatic monks, for the purpose of recovering the Holy Sepulchre. All the inhabitants of this town were carried away by the illusion; they conducted the strangers to their houses with songs of thanksgiving, to regale them for the night. The women embroidered banners for them, and all were anxious to augment their pomp; and at every succeeding pilgrimage, their influence and reputation increased. It was not merely some individual parts of the country that fostered them all Germany, Hungary, Poland, Bohemia, Silesia, and Flanders, did homage to the mania; and they at length became as formidable to the secular as they were to the ecclesiastical power.' *

"The Flagellants were not a new order, but a revival of one which had before existed. The brothers scourged their half-naked bodies in market-places and other public spots, singing psalms at the same time, and uttering loud prayers. Some subtle imposter was usually their leader, and deceived them with pretended messages from above. The church grew alarmed. The Pope excommunicated them; and the inferior clergy became, from being their supporters, their most zealous persecutors. They were ultimately suppressed, but not till they had done much evil; for their processions lasted through the plague, and undoubtedly conduced in no small degree to the spread of infection.

Another display of the fanatical spirit at this era, consisted in the persecution of the Jews of Europe. The cruelties to which this unhappy race were then subjected, are described as having been almost unparalleled. The reader who wishes further information on this point, may turn to a late article entitled the Anti-Hebrew Epidemic. The Black Death set the medical art at defiance. In many recorded instances, the physicians of the age did their duty nobly, as regarded personal exposure; but how can we expect to find them treating the disease rationally, when we learn that almost every one of them held the belief, that "a grand conjunction of the three superior planets, Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars, in the sign of the Aquarius, in March, 1345, was the cause of the pestilence?" Separation, and the avoidance of all contact with things touched by the infected, was the only fixed medical rule, yet it was not carried into effect by public and general consent. Of the actual cause and real nature of the Black Death, it is impossible, from the imperfect ac

counts before us, to form any correct estimate; but it may be rationally concluded to have been oc casioned by some species of atmospheric derangement, to this day be yond the ken of science, operating originally upon frames reduced by physical privations and mental excitement, and afterwards extending by contagion to the healthy. Some of its effects, in the arresting of wars, and the patching up of truces, were of a remarkable nature. By a reduction of the population, it caused such a rise in the price of labour, as Edward III. of England deemed it necessary to repress, by severe regulations, all of which are believed to have been vain. Nevertheless, it was remarked that, in a wonderfully short space of time, the population of Europe had reached nearly its former limits.

By bon-mot is literally signified a good-word, or, as we may translate it, a happy saying, or some kind of an observation which is at once witty and to the point. Some nations excel in uttering bon-mots, but none more so than the French and Irish-both of whom possess that liveliness of fancy that carries them on to cleverness of repartee, perhaps with little regard to consequences. The English are poor at this species of jocularity, and the Scotch more so. Among the ancient Romans there were many clever utterers of bon-mots. The following are a few tolerable good ones, along with some of a later date, collected from an old book in the French language, which has chanced to come into our hands:

One day, the philosopher Bias found himself in the same vessel with a crowd of sorry scoundrels. A tempest came on; and instantly the whole band began to invoke the

succour of the gods. "Be quiet, you wretches!" said the sage; "if the gods perceive that you are here, we are gone!"

A musician complaining that the tyrant Dionysius gave him nothing, after promising him much, for the exercise of his art-" you fool, we are quits," said the tyrant; "you tickled my ears, and I did the very same by yours."

Antiochus, King of Syria, caused the numerous army which he had assembled against the Romans, to defile before Hannibal, and pointed out with pride to the Carthagenian hero, the arms of the infantry, glit tering with gold and silver, and the cavalry, whose horse-trappings, bits and saddles, as well as their armour, were loaded with golden ornaments. The elephants were decorated in a similar manner. Having shown all, Antiochus triumphantly asked the Carthagenian if he did not think all this would do for the Romans? "Oh, yes," returned Hannibal, "even if they were more greedy than they

are."

A Roman captain having gone over to the camp of Pompey from that of Cæsar, declared to Cicero that he had come off so hurriedly that he had not even thought of bringing his horse with him. "You have provided," replies Cicero, "much better for your horses safety than for your own." After the defeat (thus foreseen) of Pompey on the plains of Pharsalia, the captain Nonius, said to Cicero, "be of hood heart, we have yet left seven eagles." "An excellent thing, if we had to fight with jays," replied

the orator.

The Emperor Domitian was accustomed, at his leisure hours, to shut himself up alone in his chamber, and there indulge in the amusement of sticking flies with a pin. A courtier inquiring, one day, if there was any one with the Cæsar,

"No one," said Vibius-Crispus, "not even a fly."

Charlemagne studied to bring around him, by liberal donations, all the most learned men of his age. He was less successful, however, than he could have wished, and complained of this, one day, to the learned Alcuin. "Would to heaven," said the monarch, “that I had about me twelve such men as Jerome and Augustine!" 66 'What, sire!" replied Alcuin, “hath the Creator of heaven and earth but two men of such merit, and you would have twelve?"

Thomas Aquinas entered the chamber of Pope Innocent IV. whilst large sums of money were being counted there. "You see," said the pontiff to him, "that the church has been blessed, and is no longer in the state in which she was when it was said: 'Silver and gold have I none.'" "It is true, holy father," said Aquinas, "but neither can she now say to the paralytic, take up thy bed and walk.'"

Henry IV. of France, one day, reached Amiens after a long journey. A local orator was deputed to harangue him, and commenced with a long string of epithets. "Very great sovereign, very good, very merciful, very magnanimous

"Add, also," interrupted the king, "very tired!" A famous physician having quitted Calvanism for Catholicism, Henry said to his Protestant minister, Sully: "My friend, your religion is surely very ill, the doctors give it up." The same monarch was, one day, harangued by a speaker in a small country town, during whose discourse an ass brayed at a short distance. "One at a time, gentlemen," said, the king.

One of the kings of Spain had been unsuccessful in war, and had lost several provinces; yet he received, notwithstanding, the title of

the Great, from his courtiers, and the more unfortunate he grew, was the more rigid in exacting such honours. “Yes, he is Great,” said a wit, "just as a ditch is great. The more earth you take from it, the bigger it becomes."

The Duke of Roquelaure was anything but beautiful. Meeting, one day, a very ugly country squire who had business at the court, the duke introduced him to the king, saying that he lay under the weigh tiest obligations to the gentleman. The king graciously accorded to the squire the desired favour, and then asked Roquelaure what was the nature of his obligations to the other. "Ah, sire, without this dog, I should be the ugliest man in your Majesty's dominions," was the

answer.

The judge Le Coigneux desired his macer of the court, named Maillard, to keep the anditory silent at a trial. The macer accordingly bawled out "silence" every instant, though no voice was in action but his. The old judge at last cried to him testily, "Macer, make Maillard be quiet."

The celebrated Malherbe dined, one day, with the Archbishop of Rouen, and fell asleep soon after the meal. The prelate, a sorry preacher, was about to deliver a sermon, and awakened Malherbe, inviting him to be of the auditory. "Ah, thank you," said Malherbe; "pray excuse me; I shall sleep very well without that."

The Abbé Regnier, secretary of the French Academy, once made a collection of money among the members for some common purpose. He went round at a meeting with his hat, receiving the contributions. Not perceiving that the president, Rose, a very miserly person, had dropped in his share, the abbé presented the hat again to him. The president declared that

he had made his contribution, and Regnier said, "I believe it, but I did not see it." "And I," says Fontenelle, " saw it but could not believe it."

A peasant went into a large city, and, among other objects that struck his fancy, was arrested by a banking-office, where he saw people go out and in, without getting any goods, apparently, as in other shops. He ventured to enter and ask the teller what was sold there. "Asses' heads," was the sneering answer. "What a business you must have!" said the rustic; "I see you have but one left."

It would often be better not to attempt to reward a brave action, than to reward it ill. A soldier had his two arms carried off at the wrists by a shot. His colonel offered him a crown. "It was not my gloves, but my hands that I lost, colonel," said the poor soldier reproachfully.

A man of genius was, one day, told that he would be introduced to a person worth knowing “a person," said the intending introducer, by way of particular commendation, who has actually got by heart the whole of Montaigne." The man of genius coldly replied, "I have the work here."

A prelate had gone to Rome, in expectation of a Cardinal's hat. He returned home, however, without obtaining the object of his wishes. Soon after, he went to court and paid his compliments to the king, but was so hoarse with a cold, that he could scarcely make himself intelligible. The king af terwards chanced to express his surprise that the prelate should have so exposed himself as to catch cold. "Ah, your Majesty need not wonder at that, said a wit; "since the prelate came from Rome without the hat."

It is now almost a year since we noticed, in the columns of this magazine, a work upon Southern poets and poetry, which we then believed to be well advanced on the way to publication.

This work had been voluntarily assumed by a Mr. John Van Buren Moore, of Tennessee, who, as we happen to know, had opened a somewhat extensive correspondence with Southern literary men upon the subject. After collecting a variety of materials, and procuring a very general advertisement of his design, it seems that this gentleman has permitted his enthusiasm, like Bob Acres' courage. to "ooze out at his finger ends;" and the book of Southern Poets and Poetry remains, the most doubtful of shadows in the womb of an indefinite future.

We must frankly confess that we do not regret this issue. So far as we were enabled to judge, Mr. Moore (and we mean no unkind disparagement of his powers), appeared to be hardly fitted for the task he had too rashly undertaken. A really able, and satisfactory compend, setting forth the poetical claims and performances of our Southern writers, from an early period to the present time, would necessarily require in its preparation, a rare union of knowledge and acute critical discern

ment.

We have not the slightest reason for supposing that these unusual conditions were fulfilled in the case of the embryo author whose name we have mentioned. It is far better that the work he once contemplated, should be left undone, than that it should be accomplished in a feeble, or imperfect manner. At the same time, we cannot but declare our conviction that a work of this kind is greatly needed. The intellectual activity of the South, which, of recent years, has been developing itself, more than ever before, in purely literary efforts, ought (especially in the department of poetry,) to be proved, and fully vindicated, in a work which shall be "just without favour," to all of our writers of merit.

When it is the fashion with every

English cockney, and member of the French family of intellectual sans culottes, who visits America, to speak of the people in the Southern States, as brutal and uncivilized, surely, it behooves us to vindicate ourselves at the bar of the world's opinion.

What vindication more complete than that which rests upon the citation of beautiful or vigorous productions in the noblest and most humanizing of the imaginative arts-poetry?

For this reason, among others scarcely less noteworthy, we have long desired to see a work devoted to the exposition of the genius of the poets of our sec tion. There are many writers amongst us, qualified in every respect, to perform such a task with signal ability and success. If Cooke, Thompson, or Hope, of Virginia; if Simms or Timrod, in our own State; if Requier, or Meek, of Alabama,-not to mention a score of other able Southern men, whose names immediately suggest themselves—were, singly, or by a system of coöperation, to enter upon the performance of this patriotic duty-no doubt the result would be most honorable to our authors, and entirely conclusive upon the question of Southern literary claims.

In the majority of the various discussions which have arisen as to the relative position and talents of Southern and Northern writers, the question, in reference to the rights of the former, has been permitted to go by default. Never were any people so utterly disregardful of their own mental achievements, out of the particular provinces of mechanics, political economy, the sciences, and politics proper. This ought to be, and, we feel assured, will be, amended.

Meanwhile, we would say to our readers, as strictly apropos to the subject, that a volume of poetry is now passing through the press of Messrs. Ticknor & Fields, of Boston, which, we believe, will not only confirm an individual reputation, but add greatly to our best local and sectional literature. We refer to the poems of Mr. Henry Timrod. This writer has been, for several years past, favourably known to our people, by his