e Ryksmuseum, and we sit down in the newly
built "Rembrandt room," with our backs to the light, so as to obtain a
full view of the picture, and we try to forget all about the struggle it
cost to erect this temple of art.

At first sight, we are struck by the grand movements of light and shade,
which seem to flood the canvas as if with waves of coloured harmonies.
Then, suddenly, two men seem to step out from the group. The one is
dressed in sombre-coloured clothes, whilst the other is resplendent in
white. That is Rembrandt all over, not afraid of putting the light in
bold contrast against the dark. So as to maintain the harmony between
the two he makes the dark man lift his hand as if he were pointing at
something, and in doing so, he casts a softening shadow on his brilliant
companion. Genius finds a way where ordinary mortals are at a loss how
to help themselves. Clearly these men are in earnest conversation with
each other, and it is quite evident that they are the leaders of the
company.

But when everything was put on the canvas that he intended to put there,
the master stood in front of it and shook his head.

To him these two leaders did not stand out sufficiently from the rest.
So he took up his palette again, and again he dipped his broadest
brushes deep in paint and with a few mighty strokes he transformed these
two figures; a little more depth here, some more light there. He tried
every means to give the scene more depth, and a fuller meaning. Then he
saw that it was all right and left it.

The likeness of his patrons was, perhaps, not very exact and most likely
some murmurs were raised at the want of minutely finished detail; but he
did not heed such matters. To him the main point was to make his figures
live and breathe and move; and see how he succeeded! From the plumes of
their hats to the soles of their feet everything is living, tangible.
How full of energy and character are their heads! Their dress, the steel
gorget, the boots of the man in white; everything bears witness to the
wonderful power of the master.

And look at the man in black, with his red bandolier, his gloves, and
his stick. This does not strike one as anything out of the common,
because the composition is so true, so perfectly natural and simple. I
cannot remember having seen a single picture in which the peculiar style
and picturesqueness of those days is so vividly expressed, as in the
figures of these two men calmly walking alo