not suggested itself in any instance that I can remember.  We have, as the scene of the interview, an interior which is sometimes like an oratory, sometimes a portico with open arcades; but more generally a bedroom.  The poverty of Joseph and Mary, and their humble condition in life, are sometimes attended to, but not always; for, according to one tradition, the house at Nazareth was that which Mary had inherited from her parents, Joachim and Anna, who were people of substance.  Hence, the painters had an excuse for making the chamber richly furnished, the portico sustained by marble pillars, or decorated with sculpture.  In the German and Flemish pictures, the artist, true to the national characteristic of naive and literal illustration, gives us a German or a Gothic chamber, with a lattice window of small panes of glass, and a couch with pillows, or a comfortable four-post bedstead, furnished with draperies, thus imparting to the whole scene an air of the most vivid homely reality.

As for the accessories, the most usual, almost indispensable, is the pot of lilies, the symbolical Fleur de Marie, which I have already explained at length.  There is also a basket containing needle work and implements of female industry, as scissors, &c.; not merely to express Mary’s habitual industry, but because it is related that when she returned to her house, “she took the purple linen, and sat down to work it.”  The work-basket is therefore seldom omitted.  Sometimes a distaff lies at her feet, as in Raphael’s Annunciation.  In old German pictures we have often a spinning-wheel.  To these emblems of industry is often added a basket, or a dish, containing fruit; and near it a pitcher of water to express the temperance of the blessed Virgin.

There is grace and meaning in the introduction of birds, always emblems of the spiritual.  Titian places a tame partridge at the feet of Mary, which expresses her tenderness; but the introduction of a cat, as in Barroccio’s picture, is insufferable.

* * * * *

The archangel Gabriel, “one of those who stand continually in the presence of God,” having received his mission, descends to earth.  In the very earliest representation of the Annunciation, as an event (Mosaic, S. Maria Maggiore), we have this descent of the winged spirit from on high; and I have seen other instances.  There is a small and beautiful sketch by Garofalo (Alton Towers), in which, from amidst a flood of light, and a choir of celestial spirits, such as Milton describes as adoring the “divine sacrifice” proclaimed for sinful man (Par.  Lost, b. iii.), the archangel spreads his lucid wings, and seems just about to take his flight to Nazareth.  He was accompanied, says the Italian legend, by a train of lower angels, anxious to behold and reverence their Queen; these remained, however, at the door, or “before the gate,” while Gabriel entered.

The old German masters are fond of representing him as entering by a door in the background, while the serene Virgin, seated in front, seems aware of his presence without seeing him.