arms to receive it, while the eager women around are intent on their various tasks. The greeting of Joachim and Anna at the Golden Gate is full of solemn tenderness; and we have another charming group in the aged high priest bending down to welcome the shy little Virgin, who mounts the Temple stairs, supported by her anxious mother. The Marriage of the Virgin follows the traditional lines; but we see Giotto's invention in the action of the disappointed suitor breaking his rod across his knee, and the dove which has settled on Joseph's flowering rod. This is followed by a subject of rare beauty, and one which is seldom seen in Italian art—the Return of the Virgin to her father's house, escorted by musicians, and followed by a procession of maidens. Giotto himself has not often succeeded in rendering action as naturally as this of the trumpeters and violinists sounding their instruments under the Gothic balcony, decorated with green boughs, and has seldom given us a form as classic in its serene repose, or faces as fair in their youthful loveliness as these of Mary and her seven virgins.
The Annunciation, which, as a type of the Incarnation, that central truth of Christendom, occupies the space on either side of the arch where Christ appears in glory, is remarkable for the severe and stately grace of the Angel and of her whom he calls blessed among women. Both are kneeling, and Gabriel's uplifted hand and dignified gesture contrast finely with the folded arms and attentive humility with which Mary receives his salutation. In the Nativity we are reminded of the divine nature of the event by the flight of angels who circle in the
