Botticelli painted a beautiful ‘Madonna of the Olives’ for the Church of S. Spirito. Vasari writes of it: ‘In S. Spirito in Florence he has painted a picture for the Chapel of the Bardi which is carefully executed and well finished, where there are some olives and palms painted with great love.’[129] In another picture by Botticelli[130] angels hold above the Virgin’s head a lightly-framed crown of gold which is decorated with fresh sprays of lily, palm and olive. The most popular of modern Italian representations of the Virgin and Child is very justly that painted by Niccolò Barabino[131] and entitled ‘_Quasi Oliva Speciosa in Campis_.’ Large branches of olive, painted also ‘with great love,’ are placed about the feet of the sweet-faced Mother, who peeps through her heavy white veil, and they almost hide the fruit of temptation which lies on the ground beneath. [Illustration: _Martin Schöngauer_ GABRIEL CROWNED WITH OLIVE BRINGS THE MESSAGE OF RECONCILIATION (Print Room, Alte Pinakothek, Munich)] One of the _putti_ which fly round the feet of the Madonna in a Spanish ‘Immaculate Conception’ usually carries a branch of olive, and that, too, bears the same meaning. As an olive tree in a pleasant field she brings peace and consolation to mankind. She is the ‘Mater Consolatrix.’ Sodoma painted a stately figure of Saint Victor,[132] with sword and palm, and the little rose-crowned child-angel who supports his shield holds above it a branch of olive, symbol of the peace which to a Christian warrior should be the end of victory. The same idea dominates the ‘Judith’[133] of Botticelli. The slayer of her country’s enemy returns thoughtfully home, satisfied but not exultant. In her right hand is her sword, carried low; upright, in her left, a branch of olive. Though her deed was bloody, she had brought peace to the land. Flemish art neglects the olive, and except in the drawings of Martin Schöngauer,[134] whose grave gentle Gabriels wear olive crowns, it is seldom seen in Germany. The reason is easy to guess. The olive tree not growing in the North, the painters would be at a loss to find a branch from which to draw, and the people, unacquainted with the leaf, would scarcely recognize its hidden message of peace. In France it is seen less rarely. On the sculptured portal of the Cathedral of Amiens there is a curious rendering of the parable of the Wise and the Foolish Virgins. A withered olive tree, without fruit or leaves, grows by the side of the foolish maidens, and a healthy olive tree, laden with fruit and ready with abundance of oil, is beside those maidens who were wise.