The picture known as "Rembrandt's Mother,"  now in Vienna, is more of the type of the St. Petersburg picture. Although many pictures of old women painted by the artist are designated as "Rembrandt's Mother,"  there is only now and then one which is a portrait. Critics generally agree that the Vienna picture is one of the very best of these portraits. Certain it is that it is just such a face as we should like to attribute to the mother of the thoughtful artist. Hers has indeed been a life of usefulness and high thoughts. She has accomplished much, and her children rise up and call her blessed.

Group pictures from the Bible also found favor with the artist. Although at times we find Rembrandt worldly enough, and erring too, the Bible was to him the book of books in his art. His mother, whom he so often represents with the Bible open on her lap or closed beside her, must have trained her son well regarding the good book. To its pages he returned repeatedly. One of his earlier pictures represents a great scene from it, "The Presentation in the Temple." It is unlike Rembrandt's greatest work in that all the details are carefully worked out. The beautiful pillars and arches of the Gothic cathedral, the stairway to one side, the richly robed priest, the rejoicing Simeon pouring forth his song of praise, the Virgin and some inquisitive beggars who have come to see—everything is beautifully worked out and yet, after all, the Simeon holding in his arms the Divine Child, with the light from above streaming in upon him, is the central and attractive figure which every other detail of the picture enhances.

The artist, perhaps more than any other intellectual worker, needs an atmosphere—that is, he needs to be among those who, like himself, are producing pictures. We feel this to-day and Rembrandt felt it in his time. The city of Leyden, beautiful, cleanly, and intellectual from the influence of its great university, lacked artists and studios and consequently the opportunities for improvement that every growing artist needs. On the other hand Amsterdam furnished these very requirements and so, once again, Rembrandt said good-bye to his family, the mill, and his native city and journeyed by canal to Amsterdam, the city of his hope.

The longings and homesickness of his early student days vanished, except on rare occasions when he gave himself up to moments of complete rest. He was on fire with zeal for his art, which no subject was too commonplace to grace. In this spirit he entered the motley city with its artists, its Jews, its merchants, and found for himself a place now high, now low, that he filled until his death, for Amsterdam was henceforth to be his home city.

Although Rembrandt had led a quiet life at Leyden, studying from himself and members of his family, yet through these portraits his fame had spread far. He had often been asked by people of Amsterdam to paint their portraits. One famous writer of the time speaks enthusiastically of "this miller, this stripling."

On arriving at Amsterdam his supply of money was limited and so it was necessary for him to find cheap quarters. Many pupils waited only the opening of his studio, so it was also necessary that these quarters be commodious. Such apartments he found in a warehouse on the outskirts of the city. His pupils that gathered about him at once numbered among them men who afterwards became famous. Such were Grover Flinck, Ferdinand Bol and Gerard Dow. He was not only original himself but he wished his pupils to develop their own individuality, and so the studio was divided into stalls, as it were, where each man could work out his own ideas.

He made many friends in the city in spite of his taste for retirement. He was a constant and accurate observer of the varied life which is so striking a feature of Amsterdam. He was especially attracted by the beggars of every degree who thronged its streets in some quarters. His pictures of beggars would make a complete gallery of earth's unfortunates. For this class of subjects he used the etcher's art, perhaps, because he could return to the plates again and improve them.

Three of Rembrandt's friends deserve special mention. They were Burgomaster Six, Hendrick Van Ulenburgh, a print seller, and Doctor Tulp, the professor of anatomy in the surgeon's guild. Rembrandt was anxious to perfect himself in drawing and so he had attended many of Tulp's lectures and had become well acquainted with the professor. The guild wished their portraits painted in a group that it might be hung in the guild hall as a reminder of Doctor Tulp's great work. Rembrandt was selected to paint this picture.

His excitement was intense over this, his first great commission. The desire of the guild was that the picture should represent Doctor Tulp lecturing to his class. Many subjects of this sort had been painted and engraved by previous artists, but there had been nothing that could be called a picture, only a monotonous line of portraits, among which it was impossible to distinguish the professor from the students. It never entered Rembrandt's mind that such a photographic representation would at all satisfy Doctor Tulp and his associates. His plan was to have a central point of interest about which to group his portraits. In a few sketches he produced his wonderful "Anatomy Lesson,"  the most famous doctor's picture ever painted.

There sits Doctor Tulp, with forceps in hand, explaining the intricacies of the tendons of the dead man's arm and hand. His listeners, seven in number, lean to hear and see, each with an individual and absorbed expression that could never have been obtained had the individuals "sat for their pictures," as we say. He had observed these men when they knew it not and, like the genius that he was, he carried his impressions accurately to his canvas. Our interest in the faces of the men who learn, and of him who teaches, almost makes us forget the dead body in the foreground. The surgeons were delighted with the picture, and the fame of it soon spread throughout Holland. Many men of note came to sit for their portraits.

The "Anatomy Lesson"  was painted in 1632, and it was the first of three great pictures which divide the artist's career and mark its beginning, its turning point, and its climax. The other two are "The Night Watch"  of 1642 and the wonderful "Cloth Makers"  of 1661.

Rembrandt went often to Hendrick's shop to look over the etchings, drawings and other prints. Some times he found those by the German, Durer, or those by his fellow citizen, Lucas van Leyden. Indeed he did more than look at these treasures—he frequently bought a precious print for himself for which he gave no mean price.

One other thing at the print shop of Hendrick interested the great artist. A beautiful young girl came also to see the newest prints, and to converse with her cousin, Hendrick, on a thousand subjects dear to them. This was Saskia van Ulenburgh, who afterward became as divinely associated with Rembrandt and his work as Beatrice with Dante, or Laura with Petrarch. She was shy enough at first, but the mighty master with his wondrous gaze soon became her idol by day, her dream by night. On the other hand, to the young artist she became the one thing delightful outside of his art.

Saskia was of a distinguished family. Her father was often at the home of William of Orange. He sat at table with the great leader just before he was assassinated. Both parents were now dead and Saskia lived with a sister.

Rembrandt went himself to get the consent of his parents for his marriage with Saskia. After some delays the wedding took place, and Rembrandt, used to carrying treasures of great price to his home, now took thither, in Saskia, his revered wife, his greatest jewel. The happiest period of his life was that spent with Saskia.

Speaking of Rembrandt's home reminds me of the artist's zeal for collecting art works, jewels, arms, and oriental stuffs. For these things he had an inordinate desire, and perhaps excused himself for many expensive purchases by making them adjuncts to his art. Before his marriage he had collected many of these things to adorn the home to which he was to bring his beloved bride. It is sad to relate that he often bought what he could not afford, and his failure to pay for what he bought finally brought ruin on himself.