andest figure among the sons of men, with
those strange eyes that Allston loved to paint,--eyes which see
verities, not objects,--is looking not upward, but forward, not into
space, but into spirit; with one hand raised, as if listening, he
receives the heavenly communication, which the beautiful youth at his
feet is writing in a book. The force and beauty of this work are
unsurpassed. It is a perfect picture: grand in design, perfect in
composition, splendid in color, successful in execution, and the figures
full of expression,--for the inspiration of the Prophet seems to
overflow into the Scribe, whose attitude indicates enthusiastic
receptiveness; it is, indeed, in every pictorial quality that can be
named, admirable.

The other pictures in this collection, with the exception of the large
Swiss landscape, were of cabinet size. Some of them have been already
described in this paper. I will give Mr. Ware's description of "Lorenzo
and Jessica," and of "The Spanish Girl." Mr. Ware says:--

"But perhaps the most exquisite examples of repose are the 'Lorenzo and
Jessica,' and 'The Spanish Girl.' These are works also to which no
perfection could be added,--from which, without loss, neither touch nor
tint could be subtracted. We might search through all galleries, the
Louvre or any other, for their equals or rivals in either conception or
execution. I speak of these familiarly, because I suppose you all to be
familiar with them. The first named, the 'Lorenzo and Jessica,' is a
very small picture, one of the smallest of Allston's best ones; but no
increase of size could have enlarged its beauty or in any sense have
added to its value. The lovers sit side by side, their hands clasped, at
the dim hour of twilight, all the world hushed into silence, not a cloud
visible to speck the clear expanse of the darkening sky, as if
themselves were the only creatures breathing in life, and they absorbed
into each other, while their eyes, turned in the same direction, are
turned upon the fading light of the gentle, but brilliant planet, as it
sinks below the horizon: the gentle brilliancy, not the setting, the
emblem of their mutual loves. As you dwell upon the scene, your only
thought is, May this quiet beauty, this delicious calm, never be
disturbed, but may

'The peace of the scene pass into the heart!'

In the background, breaking the line of the horizon, but in fine unison
with the figures and the character of the atmosphere,