Does Elisabetta Sirani take precedence of Lady Waterford? Perhaps they may be regarded as two equal queens in the world of woman's art, each with a beautiful artistic intellect. Even at the age of nineteen, as old Bartsch admits, Elisabetta etched exquisite plates; and, before she was twenty-three, her paintings were sought after by all the patron-critics of her country. Yet her male rivals hinted that she was dishonest, that she did not paint her own pictures, but had "ghosts" to win fame and fortune for her--especially her father, a poor "ghost," afflicted with inherited gout. Elisabetta happily soon turned the sneer against her rivals. This she did by working before an audience of distinguished persons, like Cosimo, Crown Prince of Tuscany, who on May 13th, 1664, stood by whilst she painted a likeness of his uncle, the Prince Leopold. Malvasia gives in his spirited monograph a list of 150 pictures by Elisabetta Sirani; and Lanzi deemed it marvellous that one who died so young should yet have brought to completion so many hopeful efforts of real genius. The brilliant girl painted with great rapidity. One of her finest achievements--the "Baptism of Christ"--is a very large picture, and the story of its conception is noteworthy. Elisabetta was little more than twenty at the time, and the clergy who had been sent to order the work for the Church of the Certosini at Bologna, looked on whilst she, radiant with inspiration, made her first impulsive sketch in pen-and-ink. The beholders were enchanted, and the huge picture, differing little in essentials from the sketch, was painted almost as rapidly as Dumas repeopled the distant past. In brief, Elisabetta Sirani, like all women of genius, worked under an intuitive rather than technical guidance; and in her art, consequently, as in Lady Waterford's, we find those blemishes and beauties which belong to a native habit of spontaneous workmanship. As to her private life, it is full of heroic virtues. The noble girl kept the whole family: her mother, who was stricken with paralysis; her father, who suffered intolerably from the gout; and her two sisters, whom she educated with a large class of girl art-students. Then Cupid came, saw, and was overcome, and Elisabetta, by way of celebrating this unkind victory, painted the little god in the act of crowning his victor. But the pity of it all was this: the girl had so many taut strings to her bow that the frail bow could not but break. Elisabetta's health gave way, a painful disease of the stomach assailed her; and yet to the last day but one of her short life--i.e., August 27th, 1665--she remained true to her colours, and was one of art's truest soldiers. "The best way not to feel pain is not to think of it," said she, and then went slowly back to her studio.