A third female artist of this period belonged to Italy. Caterina Vigri, a pupil of the Bolognese school, combined with a high degree of talent a quiet gentleness and dignified manner that gained her general esteem. She was born of a noble family in Ferrara in 1413, and exercised her skill chiefly in miniature painting, though several large works are recognized as hers. One of St. Ursula, infolding in her robe her kneeling companions, is exhibited among other fair martyrs in the Pinacothek of Bologna, and, with the pure, calm expression, peculiar to the productions of a preceding age, combines a delicacy, grace, correctness of drawing, and freedom with firmness of touch, not often found at that time. One of her pictures is preserved in the Sala Palladiana of the Venetian Academy. Educated in the most exalted mysticism, she was the founder of the convent of “Corpo di Cristo,” which is yet in existence, and shelters the grave of Caterina as well as many of her works. She poured into these all her religious enthusiasm. Her master was Maestro Vitale. She died in the odor of sanctity, and was spoken of as “the Saint of Bologna.” In 1712 the Catholic Church inscribed her name in the second category of saints, with the title of “Beata,” in virtue of which she is honored to this day as the patron saint of the fine arts. Tradition relates a story of one of her paintings on wood--an infant Jesus--having the power to heal diseases in those who touched the lips of the picture. THE WARRIOR MAIDEN. Beside this saintly personage stands one who joined the prowess of the soldier to the genius of the painter. Onorata Rodiana was born at Castelleone in Cremona, in the early part of the fifteenth century, and, while yet young, obtained so high a reputation as a painter, that the Marquis Gabrino Fondolo, the tyrant of Cremona, appointed her to the task of decorating his palace. The maiden, in the prime of her youth and beauty, was engaged in this work when an accidental occurrence changed the whole course of her life. A courtier of libertine character, who chanced to see her occupied in painting the walls of a room in the palace, entered, and dared to offer an insulting freedom. The young artist repulsed him; but, unable to escape his violence without a desperate struggle, the spirited girl at length drew a dagger and stabbed him to the heart. She then rushed from the palace, disguised herself in man’s clothes, and quitted the city, declaring that she would rather die in obscure exile than accept a luxurious home as the price of dishonor.