t, and he painted
his brother similarly adorned. A picture of a person wearing the same
armour as in the Glasgow picture is in St. Petersburg, but the figure
is turned in a slightly different direction and reflects the light
differently. It is called 'Pallas Athene,' and was no doubt painted
at the same time as ours; but the person, whether named Pallas Athene
or knight, was but a peg upon which to hang the armour for the sake
of the light shining on it.

Rembrandt was a typical Dutch worker all his life. Besides the great
number of pictures that have come down to us, we have about three
thousand of his drawings, and his etchings are very numerous and fine.

I wonder if you know how prints are made? There are, broadly speaking,
two different processes. You can take a block of wood and cut away
the substance around the lines of the design. Then when you cover with
ink the raised surface of wood that is left and press the paper upon
it, the design prints off in black where the ink is but the paper remains
white where the hollows are. This is the method called wood-cutting,
which is still in use for book illustrations.

In the other process, the design is ploughed into a metal plate, the
lines being made deep enough to hold ink, and varying in width according
to the strength desired in the print. You then fill the grooves with
ink, wiping the flat surface clean, so that when the paper is pressed
against the plate and into the furrows, the lines print black, out
of the furrows, and the rest remains white.

There are several ways of making these furrows in a metal plate, but
the chief are two. The first is to plough into the metal with a sharp
steel instrument called a burin. The second is to bite them out with
an acid. This is the process of etching with which Rembrandt did his
matchless work. He varnished a copper plate with black varnish. With
a needle he scratched upon it his design, which looked light where
the needle had revealed the copper. Then the whole plate was put into
a bath of acid, which ate away the metal, and so bit into the lines,
but had no effect upon the varnish. When he wanted the lines to be
blacker in certain places, he had to varnish the whole rest of the
plate again, and put it back into the bath of acid. The lines that
had been subjected to the second biting were deeper than those that
had been bitten only once.

The number of plates etched by Rembrandt was great, at least two
hundred; some s