'This sum of money,' he said, 'is only a lucky
windfall. If you indeed wish it to become the foundation of my
fortune, give me one hundred florins besides, and let me return to
Amsterdam: there I must work and study hard.'
It would be difficult to describe old Rembrandt's disappointment.
Slowly, reluctantly, and one by one, he drew forth the 100 florins
from his strong-box. Paul took them, and with small show of
gratitude, returned to Amsterdam. In a short time his fame became
established as the greatest and most original of living artists. He
had a host of imitators, but all failed miserably in their attempts
at reproducing his marvellous effects of light and shade. Yet
Rembrandt prized the gold which flowed into him far more than the
glory. While mingling the colours which were to flash out on his
canvas in real living light, he thought but of his dingy coffers.
When in possession of a yearly income equal to L.2000 sterling, he
would not permit the agent who collected his rents to bring them in
from the country to Amsterdam, lest he should be obliged to invite
him to dinner. He preferred setting out on a fine day, and going
himself to the agent's house. In this way he saved two dinners--the
one which he got, and the one, he avoided giving. 'So that's well
managed!' he used to say.
This sordid disposition often exposed him to practical jokes from
his pupils; but he possessed a quiet temper, and was not easily
annoyed.
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