Where the Children are merely embracing each other, or sporting at the feet of the Virgin, or playing with the cross, or with a bird, or with the lamb, or with flowers, we might call the treatment domestic or poetical; but where St. John is taking the cross from the hand of Christ, it is clear, from the perpetual repetition of the theme, that it is intended to express a religious allegory. It is the mission of St. John as Baptist and Prophet. He receives the symbol of faith ere he goes forth to preach and to convert, or as it has been interpreted, he, in the sense used by our Lord, "takes up the cross of our Lord." The first is, I think, the meaning when the cross is enwreathed with the _Ecce Agnus Dei_; the latter, when it is a simple cross. In Raphael's "Madonna della Famiglia Alva," (now in the Imp. Gal., St. Petersburg), and in his Madonna of the Vienna Gallery, Christ gives the cross to St. John. In a picture of the Lionardo school in the Louvre we have the same action; and again in a graceful group by Guido, which, in the engraving, bears this inscription, "_Qui non accipit crucem suam non est me dignus_." (Matt. x. 38.) This, of course, fixes the signification. Another, and, as I think, a wholly fanciful interpretation, has been given to this favourite group by Treck and by Monckton Milnes. The Children contend for the cross. The little St. John begs to have it. "Give me the cross, I pray you, dearest Jesus. O if you knew how much I wish to have it, You would not hold it in your hand so tightly. Something has told me, something in my breast here, Which I am sure is true, that if you keep it, If you will let no other take it from you, Terrible things I cannot bear to think of Must fall upon you. Show me that you love me: Am I not here to be your little servant, Follow your steps, and wait upon your wishes?" But Christ refuses to yield the terrible plaything, and claims his privilege to be the elder "in the heritage of pain." In a picture by Carlo Maratti, I think this action is evident--Christ takes the cross, and St. John yields it with reluctance. A beautiful version of the Mater Amabilis is the MADRE PIA, where the Virgin in her divine Infant acknowledges and adores the Godhead. We must be careful to distinguish this subject from the Nativity, for it is common, in the scene of the birth of the Saviour at Bethlehem, to represent the Virgin adoring her new-born Child. The presence of Joseph--the ruined shed or manger--the ox and ass,--these express the _event_. But in the MADRE PIA properly so called, the locality, and the accessories, if any, are purely ideal and poetical, and have no reference to time or place. The early Florentines, particularly Lorenzo di Credi, excelled in this charming subject.