Hans, a celebrated painter, born at Basil in Switzerland in 1498. He learned the rudiments of his art under his father, who was a painter; but soon showed superior genius. In the town-house of Basil he painted Christ's Passion, and in the fish-market of the same city Death's Dance, and a Dance of Peasants, which were extremely admired, and with which Erasmus was so pleased that he desired the artist to draw his picture, and was ever afterwards his friend. He staid some years longer at Basil, till his necessities, occasioned by his own extravagance and an increasing family, induced him to comply with the persuasions of Erasmus, and repair to England. In his journey he staid some days at Strasbourg, where it is said he applied for work to a great painter, who took him in, and ordered him to give a specimen of his skill. Holbein then finished a piece with great care, and painted a fly on the most eminent part of it; after which he privately withdrew in the absence of his master, and pursued his journey, without saying anything to any body. When the painter returned home, he was astonished at the beauty and elegance of the drawing; and especially at the fly, which he at first took for a real one, and endeavoured to remove with his hand. He now sent all over the city in quest of his journeyman; and after many inquiries, discovered that he had been thus deceived by Holbein. The painter having in a manner begged his way to England, presented a letter of recommendation from Erasmus to Sir Thomas More, and also showed him Erasmus's picture. Sir Thomas, then lord chancellor, received him with all imaginable kindness, and kept him in his house between two and three years, during which time he painted Sir Thomas's own picture, and those of many of his relations and friends. Holbein one day happening to mention a nobleman who had some years before invited him to England, Sir Thomas was very solicitous to know who it was. Holbein said that he had forgotten his title, but remembered his face so well that he believed he could draw his likeness, and this he did so perfectly, that the nobleman is said to have been immediately recognised by it. The chancellor having now adorned his apartments with the productions of this great painter, resolved to introduce him to Henry VIII. For this purpose he invited the king to an entertainment; and, before he arrived, placed all Holbein's pieces in the great hall, where they were disposed in the best order, and in the best light. The king, on his first entrance into this room, was so charmed with the sight, that he asked whether the artist was still alive, and to be had for money? Upon this, Sir Thomas presented Holbein to his majesty, who immediately took him into his service, and brought him into notice among the nobility and gentry, for whom he painted a great number of portraits. But whilst he was thus occupied, there happened an incident which might have proved fatal to him, had he not been protected by the king. On the report of this painter's character, a lord of the first quality came to see him when he was drawing a figure after the life. Holbein sent to desire his lordship to defer the honour of his visit till another day; but the nobleman taking this as an affront, broke open the door, and pushed rudely up stairs. Holbein hearing a noise, came out of his chamber, met the lord at his door, and falling into a violent passion, pushed him backwards from the top of the stairs to the bottom. But immediately reflecting on what he had done, he escaped from the tumult he had raised, and made the best of his way to the king's presence. The nobleman, much hurt, though probably not so severely as he pretended, was there soon after him; and upon stating his grievance, the king ordered Holbein to ask his pardon. But this only increased the irritation of the nobleman, who declared that he would not be satisfied with less than the painter's life. Upon this the king sternly replied, "My lord, you have not now to do with Holbein, but with me: whatever punishment you may contrive by way of revenge against him, shall certainly be inflicted on yourself. Remember, pray, my lord, that I can whenever I please make seven lords of seven ploughmen, but I cannot make one Holbein of even seven lords." Holbein died of the plague at his lodgings at Whitehall in 1554. "It is amazing," says De Piles, "that a man born in Switzerland, and who had never been in Italy, should have so good a gusto, and so fine a genius for painting." We, however, see nothing at all amazing in this. Nature has not, as far as we know, given to Italy an exclusive monopoly of the genius for art, though the treasures contained in the galleries and cabinets of that glorious country are, no doubt, eminently calculated to facilitate its cultivation and advancement; nor is there any reason why a great artist, with a soul alive to the finest perceptions of grace and beauty, should not be born in Switzerland, or in Sweden, as well as in Italy or in Greece. The production of genius is not circumscribed by geographical boundaries; and though several countries may afford better opportunities than others for forming the taste and purifying the perceptions of an artist, none is altogether destitute of the native element, and in some it may be generated in such inherent vigour as, in a great measure, to dispense with the ordinary advantages of instruction. Holbein painted alike in every manner; in fresco, in water-colours, in oil, and in miniature. His genius was sufficiently shown in the historical style, by two celebrated compositions which he painted in the hall of the Steelyard Company. He was also eminent for a rich vein of invention, which he showed in a multitude of designs drawn for engravers, statuaries, jewelers, and other artisans; and he had this singularity, that he painted with his left hand.