"She christened him Rembrandt; and as his father, in that desolating age
of the world, had made a home for himself, they were now the founders of
a little race, had taken the first step towards citizenship-and so this
son could be given a real surname, and figure as Rembrandt Harmenzoon
van Rijn. When this boy in his turn grew up, and showed himself
intelligent and willing to learn, the old people thought: 'He shall be
raised above our humble station; he shall go to the grammar-school, and
perhaps become a doctor at our famous Academy here in his native town of
Leyden, and be the star of the family.' And so he did. While his
brothers and sisters hammered and filed and sewed, this son for seven
years went every morning to the grammar-school, learnt to read the
classics, to deliver speeches, to write letters (and in a good hand); he
even knew something about theology; and finally he passed his
examination. So it was probably the proudest day of the father's life
when he went to town with his fourteen-yeared son, into the lofty
imposing edifice which was the University, and watched him write his
name in unknown letters in the big book: 'Rembrandtus Harmanni
Leydensis, May 20, 1620. Student. Domiciled with his parents.' But the
student did not want to stay at the University. Was the spirit in those
halls too puritanical, hostile to learning? In the library he was more
attracted by the pictures than by the books; he would stand transfixed
before the portraits, and was fond of going to the Guard-House to see
others. At his rich comrades' home he would pore over etchings and
engravings; but best of all he loved to linger before the great Judgment
of Lucas in the Guildhall. Rembrandt wanted to be a painter."
