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.-No

middle of a word, as Nottinham; sometimes not at the end, as somethin, comin. c.

Gairn, a garden. "A hop-gairn;" "a gairn that is, a plantation of hops; pot; that is, an earthen flower-pot. c. Galdiment, a great fright. Exm. A gelt Gale, an old bull castrated. c. bull, an ox, a bull-stag. D. Dean Milles. Gale-headed fellow, a heavy-headed stupid man.

D.

Gale-ey ground, ground where springs rise in diferent places. c. Goiley ground. id. D.

Galinics, galinas, or guinea fowls. "The galinics be got all among the lucifer" that is, the galinas are in the field of lucern. c.

Gallibagger, a bugbear. N. D.
Gallied, frightened. To gally, to

frighten. D.

Gallies, galliers, a confused noise among a number of people; a romping bout. This is the galliers;" this is confusion indeed.

66

C.

Galliganting. N. D. Gambadoes, a pair of. They are made of stiff leather, and a wooden footboard, closed over the foot towards the horse, and on each side; open on the side distant from the horse. They are buckled on, and descend from the sad. dle on each side of the horse, protecting the foot and leg from dirt. They have been much out of use since turnpike roads were made. From the stiffness of

, published in the

papers.

C.

Geed, gave. D. Gove, gave. c. Geowering, quarrelling, [a Teut. gherran, rixari.] "Geowering and maunder ing all the day;" that is, scolding and grumbling. N. D.

Exm.

Gerred, (for gorred) dirty, bedaubed.
"Gerred-tailed measles;" that
is, filthy swine; swine spotted from scro-
phula.

Gerrick, the gar-fish, or seapike. c.
Giglot, a female laughing playfully or
wantonly. See Chaucer, who uses gig.
lot for a harlot.
Gigloting. D,
Gill, a quart. D.

D.

Gilly, Julia. c. Thus gilly-flower for
But Nugent says, gilli

July-flower.
flower. (Gallice.)

N. D.

Giroflier, (Ital.) garafolo, (Græc.) napupunov. See Primit. p. 348. Ginged, bewitched. Gint, joint. N. D. C. Girt is a corGirts, oatmeal. D. C. ruption of groat. And groat is the oat with the husk off, which we call the But we call oatmeal girts; skilled out. that is, groats. c.

Girty-milk, milk-porridge in the

eastern counties.

C.

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the leather, they acted likewise as de-N works of this kind pastoral poetry fensive armour to the foot and leg, from the rubbing of crooks and crubs, which were before very dangerous in narrow roads. D.

Gameleg. c.

has generally taken the lead, from erroneous opinion entertained by many, that it was the first kind of poetry with which mankind became acquainted. Its tendency to celebrate rural scenes

Gammerels, the lower hams, or the and the common objects of nature, have

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small of the leg.
G'and or gender, go yonder.
a turkey.
Ganny,
Gaoving, chiding. Exm. This, I sup-
pose, is jawing.

Gapesee, any sight inducing idle people to gaze. p.

Gapesness, a raree shew, a strange sight."Fit only for a gapesness;" that is, fit only to be stared at, us some unCommon being. Exm.

Gaver, the sea cray-fish. c. Gaver-hale, the jack-snipe, or judcock. In the Cornish language, the literal meaning of gaverhale is the moor-goat; more applicable to the large snipe which chat ters as it rises; and falling with a very quick motion, makes a noise like a Zid. c.

induced several critics to consider it as
the earliest of poetical compositions.
But this is a supposition that will not
Pastorals
stand the test of enquiry.
were not known as a distinct order of
poetry till in times of considerable re-
finement. In every age and country
where poetry first reared its head, it
was uniformly inspired by actions cal-
culated rather to rouse the passions of
men, to excite their wonder and admi-
ration, rather than to interest their feel-
ings, by scenes of simple nature and
rural felicity. Innumerable passages, de-
scriptive of the pleasures and tranquillity
of the country, may undoubtedly be
found in most of the poets of antiquity,
whether epic, lyric, or dramatic. But
they were only incidentally used; they

were

were merely so many episodes, or pauses, in the principal action, where the poet was allowed to interrupt his narrative, and enliven it by the various graces of poetry. It was amid the brilliancy of courts, and in the bustle of society, that pastorals assumed their present forin, It was under Ptolemy Philadelphus that Theocritus wrote his Idyllia; it was in the splendid æra of Augustus, that Virgil penned his Bucolics.

There is hardly any species of poetry less in favour among the moderns, because there is not one so absolutely foreign to our manners and taste. This is not al together the fault of the subject, which, like most others, is good when exhibited with correctness and truth, and is capable of affording considerable pleasure to the reader. There are few subjects perhaps more favourable to poetry. Nature herself presents the most ample field for description; and nothing appears to flow more of its own accord into poetical numbers, than rivers and mountains, meadows and hills, flocks and trees, and shepherds devoid of care. But this pleasing view of the country and its inhabitants, is not verified by our own ob. servation; the genuine models of pastoral life have never been palpable to our senses. It is only in climates peculiarly favoured by nature, under a sky serene and clear, and where the peaceful natives are blessed with contentment and ease, that the inhabitants of villages can be said to resemble, in any degree, the shepherds of Theocritus and Virgil. This resemblance might be found, even at a late period, in the island of Sicily, if it be true that the peasants were accustomed to excrcise themselves in musical contests, particularly upon the flute. This would prove that pastoral poetry had a more natural foundation than merely the imagination of poets. In general, descriptive poetry is the faithful copyist of surrounding objects; and that of ancient Greece had, no doubt, purer models than the miserable peasantry who now cover so large a portion of Europe. In every age, the fancy of a poct may have embellished whatever he touched; but the object must have struck him before he thought of adorning it. If not so graceful and alluring as his fancy drew it, there was at least something of nature left. There may have been periods in society where peasants were gay and artless, living in a state equally distant from refinement and grossness. Our modern bucolics, indeed, can have

no such foundation, they are evidently copied from the ancients, and professedly works of fiction. We have never bebeld a Corydon or Tyrcis: but such may have existed in Greece and Italy. A tastė for song and poetry was common even among shepherds. In countries such as Arcadia, the boasted seat of pastoral, this taste was general; it sprang from the soil, and was the happy gift of nature.

It is from the too glaring want of re semblance to living manners, that pastoral poetry has rarely met with success in modern times; and has, not unfrequently, been the subject of parody and ridicule.

The tame elegance of Phillips, and the suavity of Pope, cannot always satisfy the reader, who looks in vain for the happy innocence and rural felicity which they so gratuitously describe. Sweetness of versification and purity of expression may constitute the merit of a poet, but they are absolutely wasted upon a subject so little usceptible of novelty, variety, or truth of character. This renders it of all others the most difficult and ungrateful. The poet cannot be expected to delineate the manners of the peasantry, such as they now are. Their condition is mean, servile, and laborious; their employments often disgusting, their ideas generally upon a level with their station. He is reduced to the necessity of closely copying the language, senti ments, and imagery, of the ancient pas torals, which, from their frequent repetition, are become trite and insipid; or, what is infinitely more absurd, to the ease, innocence, and simplicity, of the early ages, he adds the polished taste and cultivated manners of modern times. Into one or other of these extremes, modern pastorals have invariably wandered, Hence it is, that this kind of poetry has generally been the employment of young and inexperienced minds. At a maturer age, the barren and fruitless path has been deserted for works of higher dignity and more permanent merit.

We are willing to admit, however, that pastoral poetry is a species of composition which may be rendered both uatural and a recable. Considered as a work of fiction, so far at least as the cha -racters are concerned, we see no solid

* Dr. Martyn, in his preface to the Eclogues of Virgil, describes Arcadia as a country "mountainous, and almost inaccessible;" which seems to favour the idea, that its an. cient inhabitants exclusively devoted themselves to pastoral amusements.

reason

the unexpected successes or misfortunes of families, might give occasion to many a pleasing and tender incident; and were more of the narrative and sentimental intermixed with the descriptive in this kind of poetry, it would become much more interesting than it now generally is to the bulk of readers."* Thus diversified and improved, it would become in time the most pleasing of all poetical attempts; for it would conse nearer to nature than most others. The Idylls of Gesner are a proof that a modern pastoral, founded upon some pathetic story, enriched with sentiment, and embellished by a style elegant without being too refined, may not only be endured, but even read with delight.

BION AND MOSCHUS.

It is an additional proof that pastorals were not cultivated till at a very late period, when almost every other species of poetry had been successfully tried, that we have no account, or at least have not the works, of any poet who, in the earlier ages, had directed his attention exclusively to them. Bion, Moschus, and Theocritus, all of them wrote during the reigns, and the two latter were patronized by the Ptolemies, of Egypt.

reason why it may not be made to afford
as much pleasure as any other of that
description. But in order to succeed,
the poet must. discard all the common-
place topics which have filed every
eclogue from the days of Theocritus to
the present time. The general appear
ances of nature, indeed, are the same as
formerly; but her ample volume still
presents a sufficient variety for the exer-
tion of genius. Rocks, mountains, woods,
and rivers, still form the principal fea-
tures of a landscape; but superior cul-
tivation, and a thousand improvements
upon nature herself, unknown to the
ancients, would furnish an endless succes-
sion of images. Variety, indeed, must be
the principal object: what might be ori-
ginal and pleasing in an idyllium of Bion
or Moschus, becomes, by threadbare re-
petition, disgusting or insipid. But the
great difficulty will be in the delineation
of characters; in preserving a nice dis-
tinction between vulgarity on the one
hand, and too much appearance of re-
finement on the other. If the poet can-
not, consistently with truth or probability,
give to modern characters and incidents
the purity, innocence, and simplicity, of
the early ages, his shepherds may be
plain and unaffected without being dull
or insipid. He may give them sense
and reflection, sprightliness and ease,
with those feelings that are common to
all men who are not in a state of actual
depravity. If he cannot describe them
as challenging one another to sing, or
rebearsing alternate verses, he may give
them topics more analogous to the pre-
sent state of society, and yet equally na-
tural and pleasing.
For as Dr. Blair
judiciously asks," Why may not pas-
toral poetry take a wider range? Hu
man nature and human passions are much
the same in every rank of life; and
wherever these passions operate on ob
jects that are within the rural sphere,
they may be a proper subject for pas
toral. One would indeed chuse to re-
move from this sort of composition the
operations of violent and direful passions,
and to present only such as are consistent
with innocence, simplicity, and virtue,
But under this limitation there will still
be abundant scope for a careful observer
of nature to exert his genius. The va-
rious adventures which give occasion to
those engaged in country life to display
their disposition and temper; the scenes
of domestic felicity or disquiet; the at-
tachments of friends and brothers; the
rivalships and competitions of lovers; T

Of Bion, our very scanty notice must
be gleaned from the poems of Moschus,
his disciple and successor.
He is sup-
posed to have been born at Smyrna,
from the compliment which Moschus
pays to the river Meles, that bathed its
walls, as having witnessed the birth of two

such poets as Homer and Bion, and after-
wards being doomed to lament their loss.
We are not informed in what part of the
world he lived, though it is conjectured
that he resided chiefly in Sicily, or in
that part of Italy called Magna Græcia
But from his epitaph it may be presumed
that he died in Sicily. From the same
authority we collect that he expired by
poison, not voluntarily or accidentally
taken, but at the command of some
great man whom he had offended. What
this offence was is not explained; and is
now, of course, beyond the reach of con-
Moschus only exclaims, in ge
jecture.
neral terms, against the wretch who could
prepare the bitter draught; and wonders
that the envenomed potion, by touching
the hallowed lips of his master, was not

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transformed into honey. He was certainly a cotemporary of Theocritus, and lived about 300 years B. C.

Moschus, from whom all our knowledge of Bion is derived, has left us no memorial of himself, excepting what relates to his connection with the other. We are told that the uncommon sweetness of Bion's numbers attracted several admirers, among whom Moschus principally distinguished himself. He was a native of Sicily, and, according to Suidas, was for some time a teacher of grammar at Syracuse. But he appears to have written his epitaph on Bion during his residence in Italy. Suidas also represents him as the friend of Aristarchus, the celebrated critic, whose death is placed in the year 157 B. C. But this account would appear to be contradicted by the same elegy on Bion, where Moschus describes himself as the cotemporary of Theocritus, who flourished some years before the critic of Alexandria; unless indeed we assume, with Heskin, that Moschus, when young, may have seen Theocritus in his old age, and himself lived long enough to witness the rising faine of Aristarchus. We know nothing of the subsequent life or death of Moschus.

It is not a little singular, that for some time Theocritus and Moschus were considered as one and the same person. "The prodigious credit of Theocritus, (says Kennet,§) in the pastoral way, enabled him not only to engross the fame of his rivals, but their works too." Hein sius conjectures that in the time of the later Grecians, all the ancient idylliums were formed together into one collection, and the name of Theocritus prefixed to the whole volume.¶__ And thus they appeared in the Aldine edition, printed at

* Πῶς τοῦ τοῖς χείλεσσι πολέδραμε κακ ἐγλυκάνθη ; Τις δὲ βρεθὸς τοσῶτον αναμερών, ή κεράων

10.2

Η δῆναι καλέων τυι φάρμακον, ἔκφυγεν ὧδαν. + See Heskin's short account of Bion and Moschus, prefixed to his edition.

Sed tamen conciliari possunt et Moschus et Suidas, si pro concesso sumamus, Moschum juvenem Ionem Theocritum vidisse, ipsum autem Ionem Aristarchum juvenem vidisse Heskin.

Part 2, p. 77.

Dan. Heins in Theoc.

Kennet quotes an epigram from the Anthologia as made upon this occasion. But Stobaeus, a Greek writer of the fifth century, had already rejected some of the smaller idylliums as not belonging to Theocritus. 1

Venice in 1594. But Moschus has sufficiently established his own identity is the same elegy on the death of Bion, al ready mentioned; where he introduces Theocritus bewailing the same misfortune in another country, (either Egypt or Si cily) which he himself was lamenting in Italy.

Bion and Moschus, however, have been always united: and such is the same ness of style, sentiment, and imagery, in both, that the same observations will apply equally to the bucolics of the one, and to the idylliums of the other. Their language is pure and correct, always in the higher style of pastoral, that is, un mixed with any of the low ideas and colloquial terms which occasionally of fend us in Theocritus. The thoughts are frequently ingenious and delicate; but the general strain is monotonous, and absolutely divested of variety. There is besides an appearance of affectation and art, which makes us doubt if they sur veyed the face of nature with the enraptured eye of genuine poets. Avoiding rusticity and plainness, they are more uniformly elegant than their great cotemporary, but with less of nature and sensibility. Their subjects indeed not requiring, like his, the direct talk and conversation of shepherds, they are excusable for having bestowed a greater share of grace and elegance, so long as the original simplicity is not destroyed. might extend this comparison farther; but stop here, that we may not encroach too much upon the subject of Theocritus, which we reserve for the next number.

We

We cannot conclude, however, without pointing out to the reader of sensibi. “ lity, the beautiful elegy by Moschus upon the death of Bion, which is highly finished throughout. A strain of mournful sweetness pervades the whole, that renders it irresistibly affecting. As specimens of peculiar beauty, we refer to the passage beginning thus:

Αϊλινὰ μοι συναχείτε νάπαι και Δώριον ύδωρ
Καὶ ποταμοὶ κλαίνε τον ίμερουλα Βίωνα.
Ye woods with grief your waving summits
bow,

Ye Dorian fountains murmur as ye flow; From weeping urns your copious sorrows shed,

And bid the rivers mourn for Bion dead.

And a little lower, the passage beginning with these lines:

"Αρχείο Σικελικαὶ τῷ πενθεῦν ἄρχετε Μοίσαι Αδονες, αἱ συκινοίσιν οδυρομέναι πολύ φυλλο Νάμασι τους Σικελοις,

Begin,

Begin, Sicilian muse, begin your mournful

strain :

Ye nightingales that perch among the sprays,
Tune to melodious elegy your lays,
And bid the stream of Arethuse deplore
Bion's sad fate; Bion is no more.

Nor verse, nor music, could his life prolong;
He died, and with him died the Doric song.

Bion and Moschus,

-Ursini, subjoined to Carmina 9
illust. Fæminar.Antw. 1568.

8vo.

-Hen. Stephani, (with Theocritus,)

12mo. 1579.

Plantini, (with Callimachus,)12mio.

1584.

Muschus, Bion, and Theocritus,

mean time, the duke Wlodomir, having
found means to escape in 1187, expelled
prince Andrew, and regained possession
of his states through the aid of Casimir,
duke of Poland. The Hungarian prince
Kolomau, was crowned king of Halic
in 1213.
A prince Daniel raised the
independence and the glory of the
Russian name; but he was conquered by
the Hungarians under king Bela IV.
The monarchs of Hungary, according to
the capitulations, could only give to the
country princes of Russian extraction;
but under Bela IV. and Stephen V. it
belonged to Hungary, in the same
manner as Dalmatia and Croatia. Fromi
several authorities it is proved, that

Gr. and Lat. 410. Brug. Hand: Halicz and Wlodomir belonged to the-
apud Goltz. 1565.

Bion and Moschus,

Ab Heskin, 8vo. Oxon, 1748, a
beautiful edit.

A. Schwebelio, 8vo. Venet. 1746.
A and C. Walckenaer, 8vo. Lug.
Bat. 1779.

-A. Wakefield, 12mo. Lond. 1795.

For the Monthly Magazine. An ACCOUNT of the UKRAINE; extracted in part from MALTE-BRUN's late Pic ture of POLAND.

IN

(Continued from p. 341, No. 198.) Nascending towards the south, at the foot of the Karpathian mountains we find Red Russia, which now forms the greatest part of eastern Gallitzia. The Poles simply called it Russia, and gave the inhabitants the name of Russinia, or Rusniaques, in opposition to Roszienie, or Moscowall, who are the inhabitants of the Russian empire. However, according to the vulgar opinion, the name of Russia was extended even to those provinces, by colonies who came from Kiow previous to the ninth century. The sons of the great prince Isaslaw formed several principalities, amongst others those of Halicz, and of Wlodimir, from the end of that century: in 1084, Ladislas, king of Hungary, made himself master of a great part of Red Russia. Casimir, duke of Poland, drove duke Wlodimir from Halicz in 1182, and gave the duchy first to Miczi slaw, and afterwards in 1185 to Roma nus, duke of Wlodimir. The duke of Italicz took refuge with Bela III. king of Hungary, who kept him confined in prison, and at the entreaties of the inhabitants of the principality of Halicz, who were averse to the usurper Romanus, sent his second son Andrew with an army to take possession for him. In the MONTHLY MAG. No: 199.

Hungarian kings Ladislas IV. and Louis the Fat: this latter in 1852 ceded Red Russia to Casimir, king of Poland, on condition, that if Casimir should happen to have heirs male, he should pay to Hungary a sum of 100,000 florins; and; on the contrary, Hungary, at his death, should have nothing to pay for Red Russia, but that Poland should belong to Louis the Fat. This latter incident took place in 1370; and in 1882, Louis having died without other issue than two daughters, Maria, the eldest, was crowned queen of Ilungary, and Hedwiga; the youngest, queen of Poland. The first married Sigismond; the second, at the instigation of her husband Jagellon, divided Red Russia and Podolia from Hungary, both which, till 1772, reinäined to Poland; so that the kings of Hungary should only bear the arms and titles of Gallicia and Lodomiria: at last the empress queen, Maria Theresa, rêpurchased the right over the two countries she took possession in 1772, but in place of uniting them afresh to Hungary, according to the requisition of the states of the kingdom, the policy of the Austrian government induced her to form them into a separate kingdom.

The frontiers of Gallicia and Lodoš miria were extended as far as possible and besides the two, palatinates of Red Russia and Belźk, Austria took all the districts of Little Poland between the Vistula and the Sann, as well as some parcels of Wolhynia and Podolia.

The provinces thus dismembered, received the title of the kingdom of There is no Gallicia and Lodomiria. distinction of the countries which should be comprised under either of those names: the whole of these new posses sons were organised and considered as

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