t included, drew pictures entitled,
"The Lesson in Anatomy." Doctors who were getting on in the world gave
orders for portraits, showing themselves as about to begin work on a
subject. One physician, with intent to get even with his rival, had the
artist picture the rival in the background as a pupil. Then the rival
ordered a picture of himself, proud and beautiful, giving a lesson in
anatomy, armed and equipped for business, and the cadaver was--the other
doctor.

At the Chicago Fair, in Eighteen Hundred Ninety-three, there was shown a
most striking "Anatomy Lesson" from the brush of a young New York artist.
It pictures the professor removing the sheet from the face of the
corpse, and we behold the features of a beautiful young woman.

Some day I intend to write a book entitled, "The Evolution and
Possibilities of the Anatomy Lesson." Keep your eye on the subject--we
are not yet through with it.

Swanenburch offered to give Rembrandt a room in his own house, but he
preferred the old mill, and a wheat-bin was fitted up for a private
studio. The fittings of the studio must have cost fully two dollars,
according to all accounts; there were a three-legged stool, an easel, a
wooden chest, and a straw bed in the corner. Only one window admitted the
light, and this was so high up that the occupant was not troubled by
visitors looking in.

Our best discoveries are the result of accident.

This single window, eight feet from the ground, allowed the rays of light
to enter in a stream. On cloudy days and early in the mornings or in the
evenings, Rembrandt noted that when the light fell on the face of the
visitor the rest of the body was wholly lost in the shadow. He placed a
curtain over the window with a varying aperture cut in it, and with his
mother as model made numerous experiments in the effects of light and
shade. He seems to have been the very first artist who could draw a part
of the form, leaving all the rest in absolute blackness, and yet give the
impression to the casual onlooker that he sees the figure complete. Plain
people with no interest in the technique of art will look upon a
"Rembrandt," and go away and describe things in the picture that are not
there. They will declare to you that they saw them--those obvious things
which one fills in at once with his inward eye. For instance, there is a
portrait of a soldier, by Rembrandt, in the Louvre, and above the
soldier's head you see a tall cockade. You assume a