St. Anna reclines on a couch covered with drapery, and a pillow under her head; two handmaids sustain her; a third fans her, or presents refreshments; more in front a group of women are busied about the new-born child. It has been the custom, I know not on what authority, to introduce neighbours and friends, who come to congratulate the parents. The whole scene thus treated is sure to come home to the bosom of the observer. The most important event in the life of a woman, her most common and yet most awful experience, is here so treated as to be at once ennobled by its significance and endeared by its thoroughly domestic character. I will give some examples. 1. The first is by an unknown master of the Greco-Italian school, and referred by d'Agincourt to the thirteenth century, but it is evidently later, and quite in the style of the Gaddi. 2. There is both dignity and simplicity in the fresco by Taddeo Gaddi. (Florence, Baroncelli Chapel.) St. Anna is sitting up in bed; an attendant pours water over her hands. In front, two women are affectionately occupied with the child a lovely infant with a glory round its head. Three other attendants are at the foot of the bed. 3. We have next in date, the elegant composition by Ghirlandajo. As Joachim and Anna were "exceedingly rich," he has surrounded them with all the luxuries of life. The scene is a chamber richly decorated; a frieze of angelic boys ornaments the alcove; St. Anna lies on a couch. Vasari says "certain women are ministering to her." but in Lasinio's engraving they are not to be found. In front a female attendant pours water into a vase; two others seated hold the infant. A noble lady, habited in the elegant Florentine costume of the fifteenth century, enters with four others--all portraits, and, as is usual with Ghirlandajo, looking on without taking any part in the action. The lady in front is traditionally said to be Ginevra Benci, celebrated for her beauty. 4. The composition by Albert Durer[1] gives us an exact transcript of antique German life, quite wonderful for the homely truth of the delineation, but equally without the simplicity of a scriptural or the dignity of an historical scene. In an old-fashioned German chamber lies St. Anna in an old-fashioned canopied bedstead. Two women bring her a soup and something to drink, while the midwife, tired with her exertions, leans her head on the bedside and has sank to sleep. A crowd of women fill up the foreground, one of whom attends to the new-born child: others, who appear to have watched through the night, as we may suppose from the nearly extinguished candles, are intent on good cheer; they congratulate each other; they eat, drink, and repose themselves. It would be merely a scene of German _commérage_, full of nature and reality, if an angel hovering above, and swinging a censer, did not remind us of the sacred importance of the incident represented. [Footnote 1: In the set of wood-cuts of the "Life of the Virgin Mary."]