st, and he began a series of Biblical
studies--serious, sober scenes fitted to his mood. His hand had not lost
its cunning, for there is a sureness and individuality shown in his work
during the next few years that stamps him as the Master.

But his rivals raised a great clamor against his style. They declared
that he trampled on all precedent and scorned the laws on which true art
is built. However, he had friends, and they, to help him, went forth and
secured the commission--the famous "Night-Watch," now in the Ryks Museum
at Amsterdam.

The production of this fine picture resulted in a comedy of errors, that
shaded off into a tragedy for poor Rembrandt. The original commission for
this picture came from thirty-seven prominent citizens, who were to
share the expense equally among them. The order was for the portraits of
the eminent men to appear on one canvas, the subjects to be grouped in an
artistic way according to the artist's own conceit.

Rembrandt studied hard over the matter, as he was not content to execute
a picture of a mass of men doing nothing but pose.

It took a year to complete the picture. The canvas shows a band of armed
men, marching forth to the defense of the city in response to a sudden
night alarm. Two brave men lead the throng and the others shade off into
mere Rembrandt shadows, and you only know there are men there by the
nodding plumes, banners and spearheads that glisten in the pale light of
the torches.

When the picture was unveiled, the rich donors looked for themselves on
the canvas, and some looked in vain. Only two men were satisfied, and
these were the two who marched in the vanguard.

"Where am I?" demanded a wealthy shipowner of Rembrandt as the canvas was
scanned in a vain search for his proud features.

"You see the palace there in the picture, do you not?" asked the artist
petulantly.

"Yes, I see that," was the answer.

"Well, you are behind that palace."

The company turned on Rembrandt, and forbade the hanging of any more of
his pictures in the municipal buildings.

Rembrandt shrugged his shoulders. But as the year passed and orders
dropped away, he found how unwise a thing it is to affront the public.
Men who owed him refused to pay, and those whom he owed demanded their
money.

He continued doggedly on his course.

Some years before he had bought a large house and borrowed money to pay
for it, and had further given his note at hand to various merchants and