all sorts of smudges and thick black lines, which cross and recross in a
seemingly wild and aimless sort of way; but when looked into carefully,
they all have a meaning of their own, and have been put there with a
just and deep felt appreciation of light and shade. The greater
compositions crowded with figures, the buildings, the landscapes--all
are impregnated with the same deep artistic feeling.

[Illustration: PLATE VII.--PORTRAIT OF AN OLD LADY

This famous portrait of an old lady unknown is in our National Gallery.
It is on canvas 4 ft. 2+3/4 in. by 3 ft. 2 in.]

One evening one of my friends gave us a short lecture on art and showed
us many drawings by ancient and modern artists, most of them, however,
being by contemporaries who had already become famous. Among them was
one drawing by Rembrandt, and it was remarkable to notice the peculiar
effect it produced in this collection. The scene represented on the old
smudgy piece of paper was so simple in execution, so noble in
composition, done with just a few strokes of the pencil, that all the
other drawings looked like apprentice-work beside it. Here was the
master, towering above all.

Thus I saw Rembrandt, the man who could tell me endless stories, and
could conjure them up before my eyes with either brush, pencil, or
etching needle. Whether heaven or earth; the heroes of old; or only a
corner of old Amsterdam--out of everything he made the most beautiful
drawings. His pictures of lions and elephants are wonderfully naive. His
nude figures of female models are remarkable, because no painter dared
paint them exactly as he saw them in his studio, but Rembrandt,
entranced by the glow and warmth of the flesh tints, never dreamt of
reproducing them otherwise than as he saw them. It was no Venus, or
June, or Diana he wanted. He might, perhaps, even take his neighbour's
washerwoman, make her get up on the model throne, and put her on the
canvas in all the glory of living, throbbing flesh and blood.

And the way in which he put his scrawls and strokes is so wonderful that
one can never look too long at them. All his work is done with a
light-heartedness, a cheerfulness, and firmness which preclude at once
the idea of painful study and exertion.

II

What do I think of the master now, after so many years?

Come with me, reader, let us look together at the strongest expression
of Rembrandt's art, viz., his picture "The Night Patrol."

Our way leads us now to th