t as a child in later years recovers the forgotten dearness of a
nursery tale; and is more himself, and again and again himself, as he
breathes the air of Greece, and hears, in his own Italy, the lost voice
of the Sibyl murmur again by the Avernus Lake.

156. It is not, as we have seen, every one of the Southern race who can
thus receive it. But it graces them all; is at once a part of their
being; destroys them, if it is to destroy, the more utterly because it
so enters into their natures. It destroys Raphael; but it graces him,
and is a part of him. It all but destroys Mantegna; but it graces him.
And it does not hurt Holbein, just because it does _not_ grace
him--never is for an instant a part of him. It is with Raphael as with
some charming young girl who has a new and beautifully made dress
brought to her, which entirely becomes her,--so much, that in a little
while, thinking of nothing else, she becomes _it_; and is only the
decoration of her dress. But with Holbein it is as if you brought the
same dress to a stout farmer's daughter who was going to dine at the
Hall; and begged her to put it on that she might not discredit the
company. She puts it on to please you; looks entirely ridiculous in it,
but is not spoiled by it,--remains herself, in spite of it.

157. You probably have never noticed the extreme awkwardness of Holbein
in wearing this new dress; you would the less do so because his own
people think him all the finer for it, as the farmer's wife would
probably think her daughter. Dr. Woltmann, for instance, is enthusiastic
in praise of the splendid architecture in the background of his
Annunciation. A fine mess it must have made in the minds of simple
German maidens, in their notion of the Virgin at home! I cannot show you
this Annunciation; but I have under my hand one of Holbein's Bible cuts,
of the deepest seriousness and import--his illustration of the
Canticles, showing the Church as the bride of Christ.

[Illustration]

You could not find a subject requiring more tenderness, purity, or
dignity of treatment. In this maid, symbolizing the Church, you ask for
the most passionate humility, the most angelic beauty: "Behold, thou art
fair, my dove." Now here is Holbein's ideal of that fairness; here is
his "Church as the Bride."

I am sorry to associate this figure in your minds, even for a moment,
with the passages it is supposed to illustrate; but the lesson is too
important to be omitted. Remember,