of the Rhine; and the worthy couple lived on a branch of that beautiful river, at a short distance from Leyden, near the villages of Layerdop and Konkerck. On the 15th of June, 1606, in an odd-looking house, connected with the old mill, the great painter first saw the light-the light with which he was afterward to attain such triumphs. The commencement of this career seemed unpromising enough; but numerous artists have since contended for the honor of forming the style of the painter whose works soon gave immortality to his name. Peter Lastman, Jaques Pinas, and George Schooten, have all been claimed as his masters by different biographers. The truth is, he soon outstripped his teachers. After a few lessons in perspective, which he found tiresome in its detail, his active mind struck out a new path, which simplified the process and reduced the labor. He was absorbed and diligent in his new employment, but was ever aiming to produce great effects with little work. In his later pictures, the paint is laid on ap such matchless knowledge of their relation to each other, that they produce, at a distance, the most harmonious and magical effect. It is said that the hair and beard of his portraits were finished with the handle of his brush. He disliked having his pictures too closely examined, but pushed back the too prying visitor, saying, paint was unwholesome, and should not be smelled. He grew up a stout, good-natured boy, possessing, however, great resolution and independence of character, which he displayed in a most violent opposition to the occupation of his father, when it became necessary to initiate him into its mysteries. Finding labor so distasteful to his son, the old miller concluded that the easy life of the priesthood might suit him; he ac-parently in masses, but with such accuracy, cordingly sent him to the University of Leyden, to acquire an education. It must have been a sad disappointment to his paternal pride, when the youth, who liked the Latin grammar no better than grinding flour, was sent back by his teachers as incorrigible. The disheartened old man was at his wits' end; to settle his own head, and that of his son, a severe drubbing was administered, which was quite as repugnant to the taste of the young reprobate as either of his previous experiments of preparatory life. Indignant at this unsuccessful method of fascinating him with Latin, and probably fearing a repetition of the disagreeable discipline, the boy escaped the next morning to the house of the artist Van Zwanenburg, who was an acquaintance of his father's in Leyden. He kindly undertook to obtain the sturdy miller's consent to the new employment, which the runaway seemed determined to pursue; a task of no little difficulty, for it was necessary to relinquish all prospect of present gain, with uncertain hopes for the future. One of Rembrandt's first sketches happened to meet the eye of a Leyden burgomaster, who immediately recognizing the genius it evinced, offered to interest a distinguished painter of Amsterdam in his behalf. Joyfully was the offer accepted, and under his new master the boy-artist scarcely allowed himself a moment's repose; for the old miller obstinately refused to maintain his son in what he sincerely believed to be idleness. Save the mark! To him, as to many, every one was idle who did not grind flour, or at least florins. When his term of instruction had expired, he returned with high hopes to the old mill, where, much to his father's morti fication, instead of resuming the respect- as the most eminent and original of living able employment which he had tried so hard to beat into him, the graceless son set about his first picture, forming such a studio as he could from an upper loft, lumbered with grain-bags and lighted with only a narrow window in the roof. True to the determination which he had early formed, of being guided by nature alone, and thus preserving the originality which he felt within him, Rembrandt's first finished essay at his art was a picture of the old mill. The miller, in the strong light of a lantern, which reveals his sternlymarked features, is directing his workmen in the arrangement of the flour-sacks in the granary. At the foot of the wooden staircase, the face of his mother is seen in a single ray, which streams from the lantern. This picture, simple and yet picturesque as were its conception and arrangement, was carried on foot, by the resolute Paul, to the Hague; where, to his astonishment and delight, it was purchased by a rich amateur for one hundred florins. Unlike Correggio, whose life was sacrificed for the two hundred copper livres, received for one of his immortal pictures, with which he toiled twelve miles on foot under a burning sun, our artist, impatient to inform his father of his good fortune, returned in the diligence. Here occurred one of those incidents with which his life was filled, so illustrative of his character for recklessness and caprice. When the coach stopped for dinner, the passengers alighted; but Rembrandt remained, too fearful of losing his hardearned treasure. When the horses had finished their grain, they started off in an unaccountable manner, and halted not till they had reached their accustomed restingplace in Leyden, when the overjoyed artist hastened home with his precious florins. The stable-boy should not have left his horses harnessed while a youth, with such a mischievous face, remained alone with them, elated with his first success, and burning to make it known to those who had ridiculed and discouraged him. It was too irresistible a temptation. Doubtless, too, he exulted over the dismay of his fellow-passengers, who were left behind, with plenty of leisure, however, and disposition to abuse the author of the trick. In 1630, at the early age of twenty-four, Rembrandt was established in Amsterdam artists. He here opened a school, and pupils flocked around him, though the exorbitant sum of one hundred florins annually was demanded for each. His scholars studied from models in separate apartments; so jealous was he to preserve the original talent which might be developed. Among others of those who afterward became distinguished, were Fictoor, Gerhard Douw, Lievens, Van Eeckhout, Van Hoogstraten, Govaert Flink, Leonard Bramer, and Ferdinand Bol. He is said to have retouched the pieces executed by those under his instruction, and sold them for his own, at the extravagant prices which he could always command. His studio is described as a circular room, in which the light was admitted through narrow openings, so managed as to exclude it from all but one. The most fantastic and singular effects were thus produced. This strange room was filled with all kinds of draperies, turbans, scarfs, rusty halberds, suits of armor, and antique furniture. He was very proud of his picturesque collection, showing them to visitors as his antiquities, and he never wearied of re-arranging them, so as to vary the effect of light and color; he called this "making his models sit to him." He also possessed many valuable engravings, among which were those of Mark Antony, the famous engraver of Bologna after Raphael. The style which Rembrandt first displayed to the world forms an era in the history of art,-so grand and conclusive were his discoveries, so perfect, and yet seemingly almost miraculous, was his effective management of the simple agencies of light and shade. Discarding the rules and trammels through which his predecessors had plodded, as is the province of genius alone, he arrived at the desired result intuitively. His early pieces were in the highly-finished manner which was then the demand of his countrymen; but he soon struck out for himself a sharp, bold style, often apparently rude and coarse, but brilliant and accurate, and producing most wonderful effects. His three distinguishing characteristics were touch, expression, and chiaro-oscuro; in the latter he is indeed unrivaled. His lights are so well managed, his shadows so clear, his finish often soft and delicate in the extreme; and, even when seemingly coarse and rough, the tout ensemble is harmonious and effective. A daub of paint, which may seem to be dashed at random, or by accident, upon the picture, is found to be indispensable in giving life and expression to his subject. Only the most perfect control of touch, and a knowledge of his art learned from nature alone, could accomplish these triumphs. His mastery over the wide range of subjects which he attempted is not the least remarkable proof of his genius. A distinguished critic says of his portraits: "Far from suffering by a comparison with those of any other painter, they often threw those of the greatest masters into the background." His figures are described as wanting in grace and purity. According to his early resolution, he studied nature alone; and it must be confessed that his own country furnished somewhat grotesque models for the classic scenes which he occasionally attempted, or for the noble Jewish forms which should have adorned his favorite Scripture productions. His landscapes are generally of a gloomy character, often representing the struggle between storm and sunshine. He seldom chooses extensive views; but renders the most limited scene and the commonest objects poetical, by his unrivaled management of his great and triumphant weapon-the light. It has been remarked that "Rembrandt expressed all ideas by light and shade. Life is light, and death is darkness; and silence is represented by a sweet harmony of tones, softly graduated to produce upon the eye the same effect that silence would produce upon the ear." His sitters were often wearied with the exactitude with which all the preliminaries must be arranged, before he would take up his magic pencil for work. The attitude, the draperies, but above all the light, must be adjusted with the utmost nicety, at any expense of time and labor; or the great artist refused the vigorous touch, which was to send them down to posterity, in the glowing coloring, the golden radiance, and the living expression, which characterized all his portraits. Many anecdotes are told illustrative of his capricious nature, as well as of his avarice; but they all prove him to have been possessed of matchless bonhomie, and this we opine is more rarely united with genius than even the miserliness which has been so universally attributed to him. Indeed, some of these are difficult to reconcile with this unworthy trait. At one time a wealthy family were sitting for the completion of a group. In the midst of his work he learned that a favorite monkey had accidentally been killed. Besides the loud lamentations which he made over his loss, his grief found expression in a spirited sketch of his pet, among the heads of his aristocratic patrons; when they finally objected to pay for the work with this addition to their domestic circle, the mischievous artist refused to erase the obnoxious subject, but kept the picture, immortalizing his departed companion and his own eccentricity. His pupils often amused themselves by painting imitations of coin, and scattering them about the room; well knowing that their rheumatic old master would not fail to stoop for them, be the difficulty ever so great, or the amount ever so trifling. A story is related of an amateur, who offered Rembrandt two hundred florins for a picture which struck his fancy. The bargain was concluded, and the purchaser was to call for it on the morrow. Before evening the artist received a letter offering three hundred florins for the same picture, which the writer described, and pretended to have seen at a casual visit to his studio. Time and place were named for its delivery. The distance fixed upon was long, and the hour an inconvenient one; but Rembrandt wearied himself in seeking his unknown correspondent. After a protracted but fruitless search, he returned to find in his room the individual with whom he had bargained the day before, awaiting his prize. Adroitly concealing the coveted picture, (for the additional hundred florins might yet be obtained,) the crafty artist mournfully bewailed an accident which had befallen it; but generously promised to paint another precisely like it. The stranger, however, indignantly refused a copy of the work he had selected; and soon after his departure Master Rembrandt received another brief letter from his anonymous correspondent, reproaching him with his falsehood, ridiculing the weariness he had endured, and exulting in the loss of the sale; closing with some advice well suited to the circumstances. This of course revealed the deception; but instead of flying into a passion, or nursing his wrath in dignified silence, Rembrandt, good-naturedly surveying the rogues surrounding him, charges them with the trick, and exclaims:"Ah, you young varlets do not know the value of a florin as I do." It must be admitted that this story has no very satisfactory authority. One of the wittiest and most successful of his schemes for enhancing the value of his productions was his well-known feigned death. He was taken violently sick, and was refused to all his friends; growing worse, straw was strewn before the house, that the noise of passers-by might not disturb the sinking sufferer. At a suitable time he was reported to have paid the debt of nature; but as his properlyinstructed and inconsolable widow stated that all his other debts were unpaid, it was necessary to sell his pictures to meet these demands. Of course they met a ready sale, and at then incredible prices. The satire of the stern humorist must have been keenly felt when he afterward appeared among the amazed purchasers, who were hoarding the portfolios which his supposed decease had trebled in value. At public sales he bid for his own pictures, rather than suffer the slightest depreciation of price; and sometimes, refusing to sell on any terms, suffered his only son, Titus, to dispose of a few, at enormous sums, on the pretence that it was unknown to his father. Three of his engravings are dated Venice, in order to delude the public, it is supposed. He often threatened his infatuated countrymen to go to England, and busied himself in making preparations. This immediately raised the prices of his works to most extravagant rates. Rembrandt seems to have possessed little reverence for rank and wealth, though he is accused of making such an idol of the latter. Most of his companions were of the lower rank in life; yet the most aristocratic of his countrymen would have been proud of his society. Reproached for his taste in this respect, he said: "When I wish to amuse myself after my labors, I do not seek grandeur, which is only troublesome to me, but liberty." Among his few "respectable" acquaintances were Professor Tulp, the goldsmith, and Janus Lutma, to whom he has given immortality by his famous etching, which displays the various lights of the different metals and tools in a remarkable manner. There were also Abraham France, the elder Haaring, the Anabaptist minister Renier Ansloo, and his most intimate friend Burgomaster Six, of whom also he executed an engraving, copies of which are familiar to all amateurs. The likeness must have been wonderfully life-like; the figure scarcely seems a plain surface as he stands in the most natural attitude leaning against an open window; while his serious and truthful countenance expresses the interest which the book in his hand evidently inspires. His pictures were often the result of a momentary impulse. His famous one of the "Pont de Six" was originated by the tardiness of a servant in bringing the mustard to the dinner-table of his friend Burgomaster Six. While they were awaiting the loiterer, who had been sent to the village for the desired article, the artist wagered that he would engrave a print before his return. Upon a prepared plate, of which he was never destitute, the landscape from the dining-room window was immediately engraved in the most rapid, but accurate manner, and the wager was won. In the intervals of his higher compositions, he frequently painted for amusement. He once fitted a piece of canvas to the window of his apartment, and painted his servant-girl upon it, as if in the act of throwing up the sash. Difficult as the whole subject must have been, particularly in the resemblance of the darkened window to real light, the triumph was complete. The whole figure was in such bold relief and so animated that every one who saw it was deceived. One of his most celebrated pictures is "The Anatomical Lecture." It was painted as a token of gratitude for the patronage which had been extended to him by Professor Tulp in his early career. The principal defect pointed out by critics in this remarkable work is the vigor and finish of each part, thus dividing the attention which should only take in the general effect with the main design. It represents the lecturer with a corpse upon the table before him, explaining to the class surrounding him the mechanism of the hand, which he holds with his instrument. "The Night Patrol" and "The Two Philosophers" are among his most celebrated productions The latter arrests the attention of most visitors in the gallery of the Louvre by its wonderful coloring; so sweetly and harmoniously are the hues blended as to convey the idea of perfect silence and repose. a very rare work, and has been sold for enormous sums. The following description has been given of these wonderful engravings : The "Jacob's Dream is the subject of the first of these mystic compositions. The angels gently ascend and descend a ladder, which is only illumined at its upper extremity. The dreamer, whom we suppose to be at the bottom of the ladder, is in the most profound darkness. This is the first state of the etching; but in a second proof, his figure may just be distinguished through the bars of the ladder as he is stretched at the foot. The celestial ray has descended the steps, and with its dying gleam indicates the vague outline of the sleeping traveler. The mystery is profound, the effect grand. wings are, it is true, neither light nor aërial, angels who brush against Jacob with their but their very weight seems to render them more powerful and formidable. The lighting of the picture supplies the poetry of the subject, or rather of itself constitutes the poetry, for by means of it the effect is elevated to unequaled grandeur. This engraving, destined for a small book, is not so large as the hand of the engraver; but the genius of Rembrandt, in spite of the narrow limits within which it is confined, gives the effect of gigantic proportions to the subject. In the same book he has rep His genius, however, was most displayed in loftier compositions, and particularly in his Scripture pieces. "The Descent from the Cross," though handled previously with consummate ability, received new sublimity from Rembrandt's touch. Though the figures (even that of the Saviour himself) are acknowledged to be faulty in the extreme, yet his new and startling management of his well-studied chiaro-oscuro has not only redeemed its acknowledged defects, but placed it above all others on the same subject. "A ray of light, like a glance from the Almighty, pierces the gloom in which the picture is shrouded, and falls upon the descending body, illuminating it with glory." It was a masterly conception, which only the most poetical imagination could produce. "The Return of the Prodigal," "The Woman of Samaria," "The Raising of Lazarus," ," "The Adoration of the Shepherds," "Christ Driving the Money-resented the Vision of Ezekiel, and he seems to Changers from the Temple," "The Ecce Homo," &c., were a few among the numerous subjects of this character which were handled by the great painter. Wonderful as were the productions of his easel, Rembrandt's fame as an engraver is equally great. Indeed, he seems to have created a kind of furore in this department of art, which it is difficult to imagine among the stolid Dutchmen of his time. It was by no means confined to them, however; for merchants came from all parts of Europe, offering any price for one of his proofs. He frequently refused a hundred florins for a small etching. One of his biographers asserts that to such an extent was this rage carried that "people were actually ridiculed who did not possess a proof of the little Juno with a crown, and another without the crown; or of the little Joseph with a white face, and the same with a black face; or of the woman with a white bonnet and a little foal, and the same without a bonnet." Four of the most remarkable of Rembrandt's works in this department were executed for a Spanish book written by Manassé-ben-Israel, entitled "Glorious Stone, or of the Statue of Nebuchadnezzar, with Many and Divers Authorities, taken from the Holy Scriptures and from the Learned Men of Old." It is of course have taken delight in making it pass through all the variations of his magic lantern. A glory Almighty appears surrounded by adoring anis shining above, in the midst of which the gels. Below are seen the four animals of which the prophet speaks, loathsome beasts, as frightful as the gnomes lately discovered by Goya, and which, in the twilight where they are seen spreading out their hideous wings, serve as contrasts to the glories of heaven. This engraving measures only three inches; yet it comprises both worlds, hell below and heaven above, the brightness of paradise and the horrors of the infernal regions; it commences like the dream of a perfectly happy man, and finishes like the nightmare of a condemned felon." Catalogues of his works mention three hundred and seventy-six plates executed by his own hand; for this department of labor was carried on in solitude and mystery. The earliest are dated 1628, when he was twenty-two years old, and only ceased thirteen years before his death. All that was mortal of the great painter disappeared from the earth in 1688, or, as it is stated by some authorities, in 1694; but the productions of his immortal genius will live while the light with which he glorified them shall shine on their softened and marvelously-blended coloring. The material on which they were executed may decay; but his name is written on the historic page of Art in heaven's own sunbeams. |