a fortress of Asiatic Russia, in the government of Kolivan, 220 miles south-west of Kolivan.

Pecile was a famous portico at Athens, which received its name from the variety (παράλογος) of paintings which it contained. Zeno kept his school there; and there also the Stoics received their lessons; whence their name, from στοιχεῖον, a porch. Amongst other things, the Pecile was adorned with a picture of the siege and sacking of Troy, another of the battle of Theseus with the Amazons, and a third of the fight between the Lacedemonians and Athenians at Ænöe in Argolis. It was also accounted a great distinction to have one's portrait placed in this national gallery. In fact, the only reward which Miltiades obtained after the battle of Marathon, was to have his picture drawn more conspicuously than those of the rest of the officers who fought. with him on that occasion, in the representation which was made of the engagement, and to have it hung up in the Picelle in commemoration of that celebrated victory. This was accounted glory enough for so great and memorable an achievement.

PESTUM, or PESTUM, a celebrated city of Italy, now in ruins, but anciently a place of great opulence and magnitude. Its remains stand on a fertile plain, considerably to the south of the city of Salerno, being bounded on the west by the Tyrrhenian Sea, and about a mile distant by five hills, amongst which the town of Acropolis is embosomed; on the north by the Bay of Salerno; and on the east by two hills, which still retain their ancient names of Callimara and Cantenna. The walls of the city remain. In some places they are five, and in others twelve feet in height. They are formed of solid blocks of stone, and appear to have been furnished with towers at intervals; but the archway of only one gate stands entire. This rampart encloses a space of about four miles in circumference; but of the splendid cluster of buildings which it once enclosed, only three temples rise, like the mausoleums of the ruined city, dark, silent, and majestic, to attest the ancient magnificence of the place. They are the admiration of all who visit them, and are considered as the purest and most perfect specimen in existence of the foreign Doric order of architecture. The first temple which presents itself to the view of the traveller is the smallest. It consists of six pillars at each end, and thirteen at each side, counting the angular pillars in both directions; and it is one hundred and seven feet in length, by forty-seven feet in breadth. The entablature is pretty entire, as is the pediment at the west end, with the exception of the corner stones and triglyphs, which are fallen, and the first cornice, which is worn away. At the east end, part of the pediment remains, and also much of the frieze and cornice. The cella occupied more than one third of the length, and had a portico of two rows of columns, the ruins of which, now overgrown with vegetation, encumber the area of the temple.

The second edifice has six columns at each end, and fourteen on each side, including those of the angles. The entablature and the pediments are entire. A double row of columns adorned the interior of the cella, and supported each another row of small pillars; the upper being separated from the lower by an entablature only, without frieze or cornice. A number of these pillars on each side remain standing. The cella had two entrances, one at each end, with a portico formed of two pillars and two antae. The foundation and part of the wall of this cella still remain; underneath it there was a vault. The third edifice is the largest, being one hundred and ninety-five feet four inches in length, by seventy-eight feet ten inches in breadth. It has nine pillars at each end, and eighteen on each side, including the angular columns as before. Nor is its size its only claim to distinction. A row of pillars, extending from the middle pillar at one end to the middle pillar at the other, divides it into two equal parts, and is considered as a proof that it was not a temple. What it was intended for is yet disputed point amongst the learned. In the centre there appears to have been an aperture in the pavement, and at some distance another, both leading, it is said, to subterranean vaults.

Such appear to be the peculiar features of each of these edifices. They are all raised upon substructions forming three gradations (for they are too high to be called steps), intended solely to give due elevation and relief to the building; the columns of all rise without bases from the uppermost of these degrees. They are all fluted, between four Postum, and five diameters in height, and taper as they ascend about one fourth; the capitals of the whole are very flat and prominent; the intercolumniation is a little more than one diameter; the order and the ornaments in all are the same; the pediment is almost invariably low; and, finally, they are all built of a porous stone, of a light or rather yellow-grey colour, and in many places perforated and worn away. In the open space between the first and second temple there were two other large edifices, built of the same stone, and of nearly the same size; but they are totally overthrown. All these temples stand in a line, and border a street which ran from gate to gate; and divided the town into two nearly equal parts. A hollow space, scooped out in a semicircular form, seems to be the traces of a theatre; and as it lies in front of the temples, gives reason to suppose that other public buildings might have ornamented the same side, and made it correspond in grandeur with that opposite; in which case few cities could have surpassed Pestum in the splendour of its appearance.

Although the city has left such magnificent monuments of its existence, considerable obscurity hangs over its origin and general history. According to the learned Mazzochi, Pestum was founded by a colony of Dorians, from Dora, a city of Phoenicia. It was first called Posean or Postan, which in Phoenician signifies Neptune, to whom it was dedicated; but it was afterwards invaded, and its primitive inhabitants expelled, by the Sybarites. This event is supposed to have taken place about five centuries before the Christian era. Under its new possessors the city assumed the Greek appellation Posidonia, of the same import as its Phoenician, because it was a city of great opulence and magnitude, and is supposed to have extended from the present ruins southward to the hill on which stands the little town of Acropolis. The Lucanians afterwards expelled the Sybarites, and checked the prosperity of Posidonia, which was in its turn deserted and left to moulder imperceptibly away. Vestiges of it are still visible all over the plain of Spinazzo or Saracino. The original city then recovered its ancient name, and not long afterwards it was taken and colonized by the Romans. From this period Pestum is mentioned almost solely by the poets; indeed, from Virgil to Claudian, they all delight to expatiate upon the beauty of its gardens, and to celebrate the bloom, the sweetness, and the fertility of its roses; and to this day the roses are remarkable for their fragrance. A few bushes, the remnants of biferi rovaria Pestum flourish here and there neglected, and still blossom twice a year, in May and December, as if to support their ancient fame, and justify the descriptions of the poets. Pestum was subsequently plundered by the Saracens and the Normans; and its remaining inhabitants were at length compelled to flee for refuge to the mountains. The Dorians appear to have the fairest claim to the erection of the majestic monuments which we have described. "But at what period were they erected?" says Mr Eustace. "To judge from their form, we must conclude that they are the oldest specimens of Grecian architecture now in existence. In beholding them and contemplating their solidity, bordering upon heaviness, we are tempted to consider them as an intermediate link between the Egyptian and Grecian manner, and the first attempt to pass from the immense masses of the former to the graceful proportions of the latter. In fact, the temples of Pestum, Agrigentum, and Athens, seem instances of the commencement, the improvement, and the perfection of the Doric order."

(Virgil and Ovid just mention the Postum roses; Propertius introduced them as an emblem of mortality; Claudian employs them to grace a complimentary comparison. Ausonius alone presents them in all their beauty and freshness.)

Vidi Postumano gaudere rosaria cultu Exortente novo rosella Lucifero. The difficulty of giving a definition of poetry, which shall include all that essentially belongs to it, and exclude all that is foreign or accidental to it, has been long felt and admitted. The definition of the ancients, which makes poetry "an imitative art," is obviously exposed to the double objection of being at once too comprehensive, since it would equally apply to the other imitative arts of painting and sculpture; and too limited, since it would exclude many departments of poetry, in which, as in the lyrical, the art is not properly imitative, but expressive; not copying in any sense the thoughts and actions of others, but presenting to the sympathy of the reader the emotions of the poet himself. Not less objectionable is the definition that poetry is "the art of expressing our thoughts by fiction;" which, while it is equally applicable to the novel and the romance, is, in fact, not necessarily true of poetry at all, except in this sense, that in all high poetry a certain transforming and beautifying power of imagination is excited, which in some measure transmutes the forms of things from their actual prosaic aspect.

Clothing the palpable and the familiar With golden exhalations of the dawn.

Still less can verse or metrical form be regarded as constituting the essence, or even one of the essentials, of poetry. It no doubt heightens its effect; it increases its charm and power of pleasing, by enlisting the aid of musical sound and cadence on the side of imaginative language or touching sentiment; but it must yet be regarded as amongst the externals of poetry,—something which will never make poetry of itself, and without which poetry is not only conceivable, but has in fact existed, and that in very striking and impressive forms.