ings or work in this long interval. And
many circumstances go to show that it was at this time that he entered
upon the immortal work which was published at Lyons, by the Trechsel
Brothers, many years later;--those "Images of Death" which have borrowed
the old name in popular parlance, and are generally called Holbein's
"Dance" of Death.

Just why the Trechsels did not issue the publication until 1538 it is
impossible to say. As one of the largest Catholic publishing-houses of
France, they would be governed by circumstances entirely outside of
Holbein's history or control. But more than one circumstance presses the
conclusion that the designs were made between 1523 and 1526. And there
is a certain amount of evidence for the belief that they may have been
first struck off in Germany, possibly by some one of the multifarious
connections of the Trechsels, as early as 1527. But this is a large
subject, not to be dealt with as an aside.

All the world knows these wonderful designs; their beauty of line, power
of expression, and sparkling fancy. Among them all there are only two
where Death is a figure of violence; and but one,--the knight, transfixed
by one fell, malignant stroke from behind--where Death exhibits positive
ferocity. In both of these,--the Count, beaten down by his own great
coat-of-arms, is the other,--it is easy to read a reflection of the
actualities of the Peasants' War then raging.

For the rest, the grim skeleton wears no unkind smile; though that he
_is_ Death makes it look a ghastly-enough pleasantry. But toward the
poor and the aged he is better than merry; he is kind. His fleshless
hand is raised in benediction over the aged woman; and the bent
patriarch leans on his arm, listening to Death's attendant playing the
sweet old melodies of Long-Ago as he stands on the verge of the great
Silence.

But where a selection must be made, there are two drawings with their
own special claim to consideration. These are the Ploughman and the
Priest (Plates 14 and 15). The former has been cited by Ruskin as an
example of a perfect design for wood-engraving; but even higher than its
art, to my thinking, is its feeling. To the labourer of this sort,--poor,
patient, toilworn,--Holbein's heart is very gentle. And so is Death--who
muffles up his harsh features and speeds the heavy plough with a step
like that of Hope. And at the end of the long, last uphill furrow, see
how the setting sun shines on "God's Acre!"