der of her long life, pursuing her art
with great success. On her second marriage, her faithful friends in the
royal family of Spain added four hundred crowns to her pension. The
Empress of Germany visited Sofonisba on the way to Spain, and accepted
from her hand a little picture. Sofonisba became blind in her old age,
but lost no other faculty. Vandyck was her guest when at Genoa, and said
that he had learned more of his art from one blind old woman than from
any other teacher. A medal was struck in her honor at Bologna. The
Academy of Fine Arts at Edinburgh contains a noble picture by Vandyck,
painted in his Italian manner. It represents individuals of the
Lomellini family, and was probably in progress when he visited this
illustrious woman, who had become a member of that house.

Stirling in his "Artists of Spain" states that few of Sofonisba's
pictures are now known to exist, and that the beautiful portrait of
herself, probably the one mentioned by Vasari in the wardrobe of the
Cardinal di Monte at Rome, or that noticed by Soprani in the palace of
Giovanni Lomellini at Genoa, is now in the possession of Earl Spencer at
Althorp. The engraving from this picture, in Dibdin's _AEdes
Althorpianae_, lies before us. We think the better of kings and queens
who prized a woman with eyes so clear, and an expression of such honesty
and truth. The original is said to be masterly in its drawing and
execution. Sofonisba is represented in a simple black dress, and wears
no jewels. She touches the keys of a harpsichord with her beautiful
hands; a duenna-like figure of an old woman stands behind the
instrument, apparently listening to the melody.

* * * * *

Whatever of skill or fame women have acquired through the ages in other
departments, the nursery has ever been an undisputed sphere for woman's
work. Nor have we reason to think that, in the centuries we have been
considering, she was not faithful to this her especial province. The
cradle of Henry V., yet in existence, is one of the best specimens of
nursery furniture in the fourteenth century which have come down to us.
Beautifully carved foliage fills the space between the uprights and
stays and stand of the cradle, which is not upon rockers, but apparently
swings like the modern crib. On each of these uprights is perched a
dove, carefully carved, whose quiet influences had not much effect on
the infant dreams of Prince Hal.

Henry was born at