Leyden was the mother of some precious human clay. Among her sons was
the greatest of Dutch painters, Rembrandt van Rijn; the most lovable
of them, Jan Steen; and the most patient of them, Gerard Dou.
Of Rembrandt's genius it is late in the day to write, nor have I the
power. We have seen certain of his pictures at The Hague; we shall
see others at Amsterdam. I can add nothing to what is said in those
places, but here, in Leyden (which has ten thousand stuffed birds,
and not a single picture by her greatest son), one may dwell upon
his early days and think of him wandering as a boy in the surrounding
country unconsciously absorbing effects of light and shade.
Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn was born on July 15, 1606, probably in
a house at the corner of the Weddesteg, near the Wittepoort, on the
bank of the Rhine. It was the same year that gave England _Macbeth_
and _King Lear_. His father was a miller, his mother the daughter
of a Leyden baker: it was destined that the son of these simple folk
should be the greatest painter that the north of Europe has produced.
They did not foresee such a fate, but they seem sufficiently to have
realised that their son had unusual aptitude for him to be sent to
study law at the University.
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