t last that the true aim of art does not consist
in the smooth and delicate plastering of the colours. I realised that my
chief study was to be the exact value of light and shade, the relief of
the objects, and the attitude, movements, and gestures of the figures.

Having learned to look upon art from this point of view, I entered the
old "Trippenhuis" with pleasure. Little by little the beauty and truth
of these admirable old masters dawned upon me. I perceived that their
simple subjects grew rich and full of meaning through the manner in
which they were treated. The artists were geniuses, and the world around
them either ignored the fact, or did not see it until too late.

Knowing little of art, I chose for my first copy a small canvas, a
"Hermit" by Gerard Dou, not understanding that, though small, it might
contain qualities which would prove too difficult for me to imitate. I
had to work it over and over again, for I could not get any shape in the
thick, sticky paint. Then I tried a head by Van der Helst, and succeeded
a little better.

[Illustration: PLATE VI.--PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG MAN

This portrait may be seen to-day in the Pitti Palace at Florence. It is
said to be one of Rembrandt's portraits of himself, painted about
1635.]

At last I stopped before one of the heads in the "Syndics of the Cloth
Merchants' Guild." The man in the left-hand corner, with the soft grey
hair under the steeple-hat, had arrested my fancy. I felt that there was
something in the portrait's beauty I could grasp and reproduce, though I
saw at once that the technical treatment was entirely different from
what I had attempted hitherto. However, the desire to reproduce this
breadth of execution tempted me so much that I resolved to try my hand
at it. I forget now what the copy looked like; I only remember that for
years it hung on my studio wall.

So I tried to grasp the colour scheme, and the technique of the
different artists, until the beauties of the so-called "Night Patrol"
and the "Syndics" took such hold of me that nothing attracted me but
what had come from the hand of the great master, the unique Rembrandt.
In his work I found something which all the others lacked. Freedom and
exuberance were his chief attractions, two qualities utterly barred and
forbidden in the drawing class and in my teacher's studio.

Although Frans Hals impressed me more than any other painter with the
power with which he wielded the brush, even he was p