In some of the old pictures, he comes in flying from above, or he is upborne by an effulgent cloud, and surrounded by a glory which lights the whole picture,—­a really celestial messenger, as in a fresco by Spinello Aretino.  In others, he comes gliding in, “smooth sliding without step;” sometimes he enters like a heavenly ambassador, and little angels hold up his train.  In a picture by Tintoretto, he comes rushing in as upon a whirlwind, followed by a legion of lesser angels; while on the outside of the building, Joseph the carpenter is seen quietly at his work. (Venice, School of S. Rocco.)

But, whether walking or flying, Gabriel bears, of course, the conventional angelic form, that of the human creature, winged, beautiful, and radiant with eternal youth, yet with a grave and serious mien, in the later pictures, the drapery given to the angel is offensively scanty; his sandals, and bare arms, and fluttering robe, too much a l’antique; he comes in the attitude of a flying Mercury, or a dancer in a ballet.  But in the early Italian pictures his dress is arranged with a kind of solemn propriety:  it is that of an acolyte, white and full, and falling in large folds over his arms, and in general concealing his feet.  In the German pictures, he often wears the priestly robe, richly embroidered, and clasped in front by a jewel.  His ambrosial curls fall over this cope in “hyacinthine flow.”  The wings are essential, and never omitted.  They are white, or many-coloured, eyed like the peacock’s train, or bedropped with gold.  He usually bears the lily in his hand, but not always.  Sometimes it is the sceptre, the ancient attribute of a herald; and this has a scroll around it, with the words, “Ave Maria gratia plena!” The sceptre or wand is, occasionally surmounted by a cross.

In general, the palm is given to the angel who announces the death of Mary.  In one or two instances only I have seen the palm given to the angel Gabriel, as in a predella by Angelico; for which, however, the painter had the authority of Dante, or Dante some authority earlier still.  He says of Gabriel,

              “That he bore the palm
  Down unto Mary when the Son of God
  Vouchsafed to clothe him in terrestrial weeds.”

The olive-bough has a mystical sense wherever adopted:  it is the symbol of peace on earth.  Often the angel bears neither lily, nor sceptre, nor palm, nor olive.  His hands are folded on his bosom; or, with one hand stretched forth, and the other pointing upwards, he declares his mission from on high.

In the old Greek pictures, and in the most ancient Italian examples, the angel stands; as in the picture by Cimabue, wherein the Greek model is very exactly followed.  According to the Roman Catholic belief, Mary is Queen of heaven, and of angels—­the superior being; consequently, there is propriety in making the angel deliver his message kneeling:  but even according to the Protestant belief the attitude would not be unbecoming, for the angel, having uttered his salutation, might well prostrate himself as witness of the transcending miracle, and beneath the overshadowing presence of the Holy Spirit.