Each
spectator is charmed in proportion to his recognition of a triumph over
difficulty which is measured by the degree of verisimilitude. The
degrees are many. In the lowest the pictured object is so remote from
the reality that we simply recognise what the artist meant to
represent. In like manner we recognise in poor novels and dramas what
the authors mean to be characters, rather than what our experience of
life suggests as characteristic.
Not only do we apportion our applause according to the degree of
versimilitude attained, but also according to the difficulty each
involves. It is a higher difficulty, and implies a nobler art to
represent the movement and complexity of life and emotion than to catch
the fixed lineaments of outward aspect. To paint a policeman idly
lounging at the street corner with such verisimilitude that we are
pleased with the representation, admiring the solidity of the figure,
the texture of the clothes, and the human aspect of the features, is so
difficult that we loudly applaud the skill which enables an artist to
imitate what in itself is uninteresting; and if the imitation be
carried to a certain degree of verisimilitude the picture may be of
immense value.
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