Oh, the Dutch are a thrifty folk!

James the First had no special eye for beauty—­no more than Elizabeth had—­but a few of his nobles were intent on providing posterity with handsome ancestors, and so the portrait-painter flourished.

An important move in the cause of literature was made by King James when he placed Sir Walter Raleigh in the Tower; for Raleigh’s best contributions to letters were made during those thirteen years when he was alone, with the world locked out.  And when his mind began to lose its flash, the King wisely put a quietus on all danger of an impaired output by cutting off the author’s head.

Still, there was no general public interest in art until the generous Charles appeared upon the scene.  Charles was an elegant scholar and prided himself on being able to turn a sonnet or paint a picture; and the only reason, he explained, why he did not devote all his time to literature and art was because the State must be preserved.  He could hire men to paint, but where could one be found who could govern?

Charles had purchased several of Rubens’ pieces, and these had attracted much attention in London.  Receptions were given where crowds surged and clamored and fought, just to get a look at the marvelous painting of the wonderful Fleming.  Such gorgeous skill in color had never before been seen in England.

Charles knighted Rubens and did his best to make him a permanent attache of his Court; but Rubens had too many interests of a financial and political nature at home to allow himself to be drawn away from his beloved Antwerp.

But now he had a rival—­the only real rival he had ever known.  Van Dyck was making head.  The rival was younger, handsomer, and had such a blandishing tongue and silken manner that the crowd began to call his name and declare he was greater than Caesar.

Yet Rubens showed not a sign of displeasure on his fine face—­he bowed and smiled and agreed with the garrulous critics when they smote the table and declared that all of Van Dyck’s Madonnas really winked.

He bided his time.

And it soon came, for the agent of Lord Arundel, that great Maecenas of the polite arts, came over to Flanders to secure treasures, and of course called on Rubens.

And Rubens talked only of Van Dyck—­the marvelous Van Dyck.

The agent secured several copies of Van Dyck’s work, and went back to England, telling of all that Rubens had told him, with a little additional coloring washed in by his own warm imagination.

To discover a genius is next to being one yourself.  Lord Arundel felt that all he had heard of Van Dyck must be true, and when he went to the King and told him of the prodigy he had found, the King’s zeal was warm as that of the agent, for does not the “messianic instinct” always live?

This man must be secured at any cost.  They had failed to secure Rubens, but the younger man had no family ties, no special property interests, neither was he pledged to his home government as was Rubens.