On the general question of how an artist is to acquire sufficient skill in the figure, without exposing himself to risks which the Inspector of the Inquisition is bound to deprecate, Pacheco is somewhat embarrassed. “I seem,” he says, “to hear some one asking me, ‘Senor Painter, scrupulous as you are, whilst you place before us the ancient artists as examples, who contemplated the figures of naked women in order to imitate them perfectly, and whilst you charge us to paint as well, what resource do you afford us?’ I would answer, ‘Senor Licentiate, this is what I would do; I would paint the faces and hands from nature, with the requisite beauty and variety, after women of good character; in which, in my opinion, there is no danger. With regard to the other parts, I would avail myself of good pictures, engravings, drawings, models, ancient and modern statues, and the excellent designs of Albert Durer, so that I might choose what was most graceful and best composed without running into danger.’” So it appears that they might profit by the works of other sinners, without incurring the same danger. Notwithstanding this advice, as the Inquisition always persecuted nudity, Spain was deficient in models from the antique; wherefore Velasquez, the head of the Spanish school, never designed an exquisite figure; and the collection of models and casts which he made in Italy, late in life, was allowed to go to destruction after his death! In discussing the proper mode of painting the Nativity of Christ, Pacheco says he is always much affected at seeing the infant Jesus represented naked in the arms of his mother! The impropriety of this, he urges, is shown by the consideration that “St. Joseph had an office, and it was not possible that poverty could have obliged him to forego those comforts for his child, which scarcely the meanest beggars are without.” Another fertile subject of dispute among the Spanish artists and theologians, was the number of nails used in the Crucifixion, some arguing for three, and some for four, and drawing their proofs on either side from the vision of some saint! The precepts as to the proper modes of painting the Virgin, are innumerable. The greatest caution against any approach to nudity is of course requisite. Nay, Pacheco says, “What can be more foreign from the respect which we owe to the purity of Our Lady the Virgin, than to paint her sitting down, with one of her knees placed over the other, and often with her sacred feet uncovered and naked?” We scarcely ever, therefore, see the feet of the Virgin in Spanish pictures. Carducho speaks more particularly on the impropriety of painting the Virgin unshod, since it is manifest that she was in the habit of wearing shoes, as is proved by “the much venerated relic of one of them, from her divine feet, in the Cathedral of Burgos!”