written, now in the
Berlin Gallery (Plate 27), inscribed 1532, has called forth the
enthusiastic eulogies of every competent judge. By a piece of rare good
fortune it is in perfect preservation. The black of the surcoat alone
has lost a little of its first lustre; all the rest is as though it had
left the easel but the other day.

Illustration: PLATE 27
JOeRG (OR GEORGE) GYZE
_Oils. Berlin Museum_

The young merchant is seated among his daily surroundings in the
Steelyard. He is in the act of leisurely opening a letter addressed, "To
the hand of the honourable Joerg Gyze, my brother, in London, England"
(_Dem ersamen herrn Joerg Gyzen zu Lunden in Engelant meinem broder to
henden_). The merchant's motto, "No pleasure without care," is chalked
up in Latin on the background, with his signature beneath it. Written on
a paper stuck higher up is a Latin verse in praise of the portrait; also
the date, and the sitter's age--thirty-four. On the racks and shelves
are documents, books, keys, a watch and seals, and a pair of scales. A
gold ball is hanging from above with a lovely chasing in blue enamel; a
miracle of painting in itself, to say nothing of the exquisite Venetian
glass, filled with water and carnation-pinks. This flower has its own
meaning, and is introduced in more than one of Holbein's portraits. On
the rich oriental table-cloth are writing materials also, with
account-books, seal and scissors.

Gyze himself is a fair-haired man, wearing a brilliant red silk doublet
beneath his black cloak. And the amazing thing is that amidst this
bewildering array of pictures--for every article is such in itself,
owing to the perfection of its painting--Gyze is not lost or overridden
for a moment. It is unmistakably _his_ picture; and he dominates the
accessories as much as he did in reality. The man, the whole man, is
there; and the things are there around him; that is all. But that
the eye recognises this is the demonstration of the painter's own
mastership. It is as much Holbein's peculiar secret as are the cool
shadows, the luminous glow, the astounding elaboration, all made to
express the dignity of one, and but one, theme.

As has been said, the Steelyard portraits are too many to even catalogue
here, covering many years. But Gyze's may be taken as their high-water
mark. For that matter it could not, in its own way, be surpassed by
any portrait. Holbein himself greatly surpassed it in the matter of
subtle and nob