is Rembrandt's son, Titus; or if Titus
was not actually the model, the features and the smile of Titus hovered
between the father and the canvas.

[Illustration: AN OLD WOMAN IN AN ARM CHAIR, WITH A BLACK HEAD-CLOTH

1654. The Hermitage, St. Petersburg.]

He found an authentic portrait of Titus in the Wallace collection, painted
in 1657, the year after Rembrandt had become bankrupt. It is one of the
most charming portraits the master ever produced, a picture that even the
most casual frequenter of galleries must pause before and love. A red cap
crowns his curly hair, which falls to his shoulders. The face has a sweet
expression; but the observant can detect traces of ill-health upon it.
Titus died before his father. Father, mother, Saskia, Hendrickje, Titus,
had all gone when the old man passed to his rest.

On the opposite wall at the Wallace collection is _The Parable of the
Unmerciful Servant_, a fine example of Rembrandt the _chiaroscurist_,
straightforward, but touched with that mystery so rare in painting, but
which, under certain conditions, was as natural to Rembrandt as drawing. It
is not always present in his work. None can say that there is any mystery
about the sober portrait pictures called _The Wife of Jan Pellicorne with
her Daughter_, and _Burgomaster Jan Pellicorne with his Son_, in the
Wallace collection. A scriptural subject was needed to inspire Rembrandt's
brush with the sense of mystery.

It was the mystery of two pictures at the National Gallery that first drew
the child to Rembrandt: it was the etchings that gave him a deeper insight
into Rembrandt's sense of mystery, and made of him a willing Gamaliel at
the master's feet.

CHAPTER III

THE APPEAL OF THE ETCHINGS

The citizen and golfer, whose commerce with Rembrandt was narrated in the
first chapter, approached the master through the writings of his
Recoverers, certain art historians and scholars, who frequent libraries,
search archives, and peruse documents; men to whom a picture is a
scientific document rather than an emotional or intellectual experience. He
was well content to end his commerce with Rembrandt there. History
interested him: to art he was apathetic.

His son, as was indicated in the second chapter, was indifferent to art
history, and he would not have walked across the road to read an unedited
document; but I see him tramping ten miles to seek a picture that promised
to stir his emotions and stimulate his imag