ke
him to Mynheer Jacob van Swanenburch, who was a pupil of the great
Rubens, and who has scholars even from Antwerpen. I will take him to the
Master, and I will say: 'Mynheer, I am only a poor woman, the daughter of
an honest baker. My husband is a miller. This is my son. He will do
nothing but draw pictures. Here is a bag of gold--not much, but it is all
good gold; there are no bad coins in this bag; I've been ten years in
saving them. Take this bag--it is yours--now teach my son to paint. Teach
him as you taught Valderschoon and those others--my memory is bad, I can
not remember the names--I'm only a poor woman. Show my boy how to paint.
And when I am dead, and you are dead, men will come to your grave and
say, "It is here that he rests, here--the man who first taught Rembrandt
Harmenszoon to use a brush!" Do you hear, Mynheer Van Swanenburch? The
gold--it is yours--and this is my boy!'"

* * * * *

The Van Swanenburches were one of the most aristocratic families of
Leyden. Jacob van Swanenburch's father had been burgomaster, and he
himself occupied from time to time offices of importance. He was not a
great painter, although several specimens of his work still adorn the
Town Hall of his native city.

Rembrandt was not very anxious to attend Swanenburch's classes. He was a
hesitating, awkward youth, and on this account was regarded as unsocial.
For a year the boy looked on, listened, and made straight marks and
curves and all that. He did not read, and the world of art was a thing
unknown to him.

There are two kinds of people to be found in all studios: those who talk
about art, and the fellows who paint the pictures.

However, Rembrandt was an exception, and for a time would do neither. He
would not paint, because he said he could not--anyway he would not; but
no doubt he did a deal of thinking. This habit of reticence kept him in
the background, and even the master had suspicions that he was too beefy
to hold a clear mental conception.

The error of the Swanenburch atelier lay in the fact that quiet folks are
not necessarily stupid. It is doubtless true, however, that stupid men by
remaining quiet may often pass for men of wisdom: this is because no man
can really talk as wisely as he can look.

Young Rembrandt was handicapped by a full-moon face, and small gray eyes
that gave no glint, and his hair was so tousled and unruly that he could
not wear a hat.

So the sons of ari