His fame is assured. He is one of the great triumvirate. "He was greater,
perhaps," says Mr. Clausen, "than any other painter in human feeling and
sympathy, in dramatic sense and invention; and his imagination seemed
inexhaustible."

The Ryks Museum at Amsterdam may be said to have been designed as a shrine
for his _Night Watch_. Near by it hangs _The Syndics of the Cloth Company_,
excelled, in this particular class of work, by no picture in the world; but
it is by the portraits and the etchings that the sweep, profundity, and
versatility of Rembrandt's genius is exemplified. Truly his imagination was
inexhaustible.

It is an education to stand before his portraits in the National Gallery.
Observe the _Old Lady_, aged 83, the massive painting of her face, and the
outline of her figure set so firmly against the background. Here is
Realism, frank and straightforward, almost defiant in its strength. Turn
to the portrait of _A Jewish Rabbi_. Here is Idealism. You peer and peer,
and from the brown background emerges a brown garment, relieved by the
black cap, and the black cloak that falls over his left shoulder. Luminous
black and luminous brown! Brown is the side of the face in shadow, brown is
the brow in shadow. All is tributary to the glory of the golden brown on
the lighted portion of the face. The portrait composes into a perfect
whole. The dim blacks and browns lead up to the golden brown illuminating
the old weary head, that wonderful golden brown--the secret of Rembrandt.
This old Jew lives through the magic art of Rembrandt. He crouches in the
frame, wistful and waiting, the eternal type, eternally dreaming the Jews'
dream that is still a dream.


THE END