His father was born at Antwerp, and held the honorable office of Counsellor of State. When the civil wars broke out, he repaired to Cologne, where his son, Peter Paul Rubens, was born. He died soon after his return to Antwerp, and left his property much diminished from losses occasioned by the civil

war.

The mother of Rubens put him early to the best schools, where he was initiated in learning, and discovered a taste for belleslettres; but all the intervals of necessary study were devoted to drawing. His mother perceiving it, determined to indulge his inclination, and placed him in the study of Van Noort.

The correct taste of the scholar soon led him to perceive that he could not adopt this artist's style, and he became the pupil of Otho Venius. Similarity of thought and feeling united them closely, and it was with true disinterestedness that the master urged his pupil to quit his confined circle, and repair to Italy, the great school of art.

Time flew rapidly with Rubens, while engaged in his beloved and honorable pursuit; he looked forward to the period when he might return to Antwerp, and place his

Nearly

mother in her former affluence. seven years had passed since he took leave of her. Of late, he thought her letters had been less cheerful: she spoke of her declining health, of her earnest hope that she might live to embrace him once more. This hint was enough for his affectionate heart. He immediately broke off all his engagements, and prepared to return. Every one knows, what impatience is created when one first begins to contemplate home, after a long absence, and the heart is turned towards it.

Seven years absent ! wrote Rubens to his mother, "how is it possible I have lived so long away from you! It is too long; henceforth I will devote myself to your happiness. Antwerp shall be my future residence. I have acquired a taste for horticulture; our little garden shall be enlarged and cultivated, and our home will be a paradise."

What are human anticipations and projects! the day before he was to quit Rome, he received a letter informing him that his mother was very ill, and begging him to return with all speed.

With breathless haste, he hurried back, without sleep or rest. When he reached the city, he dared not make any inquiries. At

length he stood before the paternal mansion ; he saw the gloomy tiles and half closed window-shutters. It was the Fall of the year, the leaves were dropping from the trees. He observed people going in and out at the door to speak was impossible. At

length he rushed in, and heard the appalling sentence, "Too late," a sentence that often strikes desolation to the human heart. His mother had expired that morning.

Is there consolation in pressing the claycold lips? the marble forehead? In contemplating the lifeless form that once contained. the noble and generous spirit? If there be, such Rubens had. But, in truth, for the death of the beloved, earth has no sufficient comfort. The soul must soar to a better sphere, and realize the life beyond.

While he was struggling with the bitterness of sorrow, he met with Elizabeth Brants. There was something in the tone of her voice which infused tranquillity into his mind; and affection came in a new form to assuage his loss. She was the "ladye of

his love," and afterwards his wife. He built a magnificent house at Antwerp, with a saloon in form of a Rotunda, which he ornamented and enriched with antique statues, busts,

vases and pictures, by the most celebrated painters. Thus surrounded by the gems of art, he devoted himself to the execution of works which were the pride of his native country, and caused honors and wealth to be heaped upon him.

There were those found who could not endure the splendor of his success; these calumniated. There were others who tried to draw him into visionary speculations. A chemist offered him a share of his laboratory, to join in his search for the philosopher's stone. He carried the visionary to his painting-room, and said, "The offer comes too late. You see I have found out the art of making gold by my palette and pencils."

Rubens was now at the height of prosperity and happiness, a dangerous eminence, and one on which few are permitted to rest. A second time his heart was pierced with sorrow he lost his young wife Elizabeth, a few years after their union. Deep as was his sorrow, he had yet resolution enough to feel the necessity of exertion: he left the place which constantly reminded him of domestic enjoyment, the memory of which contrasted so sadly with the present silence and solitude, and traveled for some time in Holland. After his return, he received a

commission from Mary de Medici of France, to adorn the palace of the Luxembourg. He executed for this purpose a number of paintings at Antwerp, and instructed several pupils in his art.

At this time, Rubens devoted himself wholly to painting, and scarcely allowed himself time for recreation. He considered it one of the most effectual means of instruction, to allow his pupils to observe his method of using his paints. He therefore had them with him while he worked on his large pictures. Teniers, Snyders, Jordaens and Vandyke, were among his pupils — all names well known. On a certain day, Rubens wearily threw aside his brush, and, charging his young pupils to preserve order and industry, left them, saying he should not return till night. For a short time they obeyed the injunction; but when was youth divested of its love of gaiety and amusement? Vandyke, the light-hearted, the thoughtless Vandyke, was the first to break through the rules the master prescribed. had filled his pocket with nuts, and while the young students were engrossed in their labors, they were pelted with showers of them. It was not in human nature silently and unresistingly to bear this outrage; the nuts

He