more than twenty years, and, as he says of himself, like the statuary labouring to draw out a Minerva from the marble block.  MICHAEL ANGELO, as yet a child, wherever he went, busied himself in drawing; and when his noble parents, hurt that a man of genius was disturbing the line of their ancestry, forced him to relinquish the pencil, the infant artist flew to the chisel:  the art which was in his soul would not allow of idle hands.  LOPE DE VEGA, VELASQUEZ, ARIOSTO, and TASSO, are all said to have betrayed at their school-tasks the most marked indications of their subsequent characteristics.

This decision of the impulse of genius is apparent in MURILLO.  This young artist was undistinguished at the place of his birth.  A brother artist returning home from London, where he had studied under Van Dyk, surprised MURILLO by a chaste, and to him hitherto unknown, manner.  Instantly he conceived the project of quitting his native Seville and flying to Italy —­the fever of genius broke forth with all its restlessness.  But he was destitute of the most ordinary means to pursue a journey, and forced to an expedient, he purchased a piece of canvas, which dividing into parts, he painted on each figures of saints, landscapes, and flowers—­an humble merchandise of art adapted to the taste and devout feelings of the times, and which were readily sold to the adventurers to the Indies.  With these small means he departed, having communicated his project to no one except to a beloved sister, whose tears could not prevail to keep the lad at home; the impetuous impulse had blinded him to the perils and the impracticability of his wild project.  He reached Madrid, where the great VELASQUEZ, his countryman, was struck by the ingenuous simplicity of the youth, who urgently requested letters for Rome; but when that noble genius understood the purport of this romantic journey, VELASQUEZ assured him that he need not proceed to Italy to learn the art he loved.  The great master opened the royal galleries to the youth, and cherished his studies.  MURILLO returned to his native city, where, from his obscurity, he had never been missed, having ever lived a retired life of silent labour; but this painter of nature returned to make the city which had not noticed his absence the theatre of his glory.

The same imperious impulse drove CALLOT, at the age of twelve years, from his father’s roof.  His parents, from prejudices of birth, had conceived that the art of engraving was one beneath the studies of their son; but the boy had listened to stories of the miracles of Italian art, and with a curiosity predominant over any self-consideration, one morning the genius flew away.  Many days had not elapsed, when finding himself in the utmost distress, with a gang of gipsies he arrived at Florence.  A merchant of Nancy discovered him, and returned the reluctant boy of genius to his home.  Again he flies to Italy, and again his brother discovers him, and reconducts him to his parents.  The father, whose patience and forgiveness were now exhausted, permitted his son to become the most original genius of French art—­one who, in his vivacious groups, the touch of his graver, and the natural expression of his figures, anticipated the creations of Hogarth.