o Allori,
the Child places a wreath of flowers on the brow of his Mother,
holding in his other hand his own crown of thorns: one of the
_fancies_ of the later schools of art.

The introduction of the little St. John into the group of the Virgin
and Child lends it a charming significance and variety, and is very
popular; we must, however, discriminate between the familiarity of
the domestic subject and the purely religious treatment. When the
Giovannino adores with folded hands, as acknowledging in Christ a
superior power, or kisses his feet humbly, or points to him exulting,
then it is evident that we have the two Children in their spiritual
character, the Child, Priest and King, and the Child, Prophet.

In a picture by Lionardo da Vinci (Coll. of the Earl of Suffolk),
the Madonna, serious and beautiful, without either crown or veil, and
adorned only by her long fair hair, is seated on a rock. On one side,
the little Christ, supported in the arms of an angel, raises his hand
in benediction; on the other side, the young St. John, presented by
the Virgin, kneels in adoration.

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 litt