of which was loaded with innumerable quilted lurking-places, originally, no doubt, intended for weapons of warfare, but now occupied with the harmless shafts of hair-pencils; while he held in his hand the smooth cherrywood stalk of a Turkish tobacco-pipe, apparently converted very happily into a pallet-guard. A swarthy complexion, and a profusion of black hair, tufted in a wild, though not ungraceful manner, together with a pair of large sparkling eyes, looking out from under strong shaggy brows, full of vivacious and ardent expressiveness, were scarcely less speaking witnesses of the life of roaming and romantic adventure, which, I was told, this fine artist had led. In spite of his bad health, which was indeed but too evident, his manners seemed to be full of a light and playful sportiveness, which is by no means common among the people of our nation, still less among the people of Scotland; and this again was, every now and then, exchanged for a depth of enthusiastic earnestness, still more evidently derived from a sojourn among men whose blood flows through their veins with a heat and a rapidity to which the North is a stranger. The painter, being extremely busy, could not afford us much of his time upon this visit, but shewed us, after a few minutes, into an adjoining apartment, the walls of which were covered with his works, and left us there to examine them by ourselves. For many years I have received no such feast as was now afforded me; it was a feast of pure delight,-above all, it was. a feast of perfect novelty, for the scenes in which Mr Allan has lived have rendered the subjects of his paintings totally different, for the most part, from those of any other artist, dead or alive; and the manner in which he treats his subjects is scarcely less original and peculiar. The most striking of his pieces are all representations of human beings, living and moving under the influence of manners whereof we know little, but which the little we do know of them has tended to render eminently interesting to our imaginations. His pencil transports us at once into the heart of the East-the Land of the myrtle, the rose, and the vine, Where the flowers ever blossom, the skies ever shine, On one side we see beautiful creatures-radiant in a style of beauty with which poetry alone has ever attempted to make us familiar; on another, dark and savage men, their faces stamp ed with the full and fervid impress of passions which the manners and the faith of Christendom teach men, if not to subdue within them, at least to conceal in their exterior. The skies, too, are burning everywhere in the brightness of their hot, unclouded blue,—and the trees that lift their heads among them, wear wild fantastic forms, no less true to nature than they are strange to us. The buildings also have all a new character of barbarian pomp about them-cities of flatroofed houses, mingled ever and anon with intervening gardens-fountains sparkling up with their freshening spray among every shade of foliage-mosques breaking the sky here and there with their huge white domes and gilded cupolas turrets and minarets. shooting from among the gorgeous mass of edifices-pale and slender forms, that "Far and near, Pierce like reposing flames the tremulous atmosphere." The whole room might be considered as forming of itself one picture-for, wherever I looked, I found that my eyes were penetrating into a scene, of which the novelty was so universal, as to give it at first sight something of the effect of uniformity, The most celebrated of the pictures still in his possession, is the Sale of Circassian Captives to a Turkish Bashaw.* I think it is probable you must have read some account of this picture in the newspapers more than a year ago; for it was one season in the London Exhibition, and attracted great admiration, as I hear, from all the critics who saw it there. You will find a pretty full description, however, in one of the Numbers of Blackwood's Magazine, which I have lately sent you-although I cannot say that I think this description quite so accurate as it might have been. The picture does not stand in need of the aid of fancy, in order to make it be admired; and I cannot help thinking there has been a good deal of mere fancy gratuitously mixed up with the statement there given, both of its composition and its expression. The essential interest of the piece, however, the groupe, namely, of the lover parted from his mistress, and the fine contrast afforded to this groupe, by the cold, determined, brutal indifference in the countenance and attitude of the Bashaw, are given quite as they ought to be; and the adjuncts, * This picture has since been purchased by the Earl of Wemyss and March. which have been somewhat misrepresented, are of comparatively trivial importance. I can scarcely conceive of a finer subject for this kind of painting; nor can I easily suppose, that it could have been treated in a more masterly manner. The great number of the figures does not in the least mar the harmony of the general expression; nay, in order to make us enter fully into the nature of the barbarian scene represented, it was absolutely necessary to show us, that it was a scene of common occurrence, and every day gazed on by a thousand hard eyes, without the slightest touch of compassion or sympathy. It was not necessary to represent the broken-heartsufferers before us as bending under the weight of any calamity peculiar to themselves alone. They are bowed down, not with the touch of individual sorrow alone, but with the despair, the familiar despair of a devoted and abandoned race -a race, among whose brightest gleams of felicity, there must ever mingle the shadows of despondence-whose bridegrooms can never go forth" rejoicing in their strength"-whose brides can never be " brought out of their palaces," without some darkening clouds of melancholy remembrances, and still more melancholy fears, |