is shall be
like to those whose senses are only cognizant of body. It is possible to
represent the spirit in its ordinary and inferior manifestations; and
this shall be like to those who have not watched for its moments of
power. It is possible to represent the spirit in its secret and high
operations; and this shall be like only to those to whose watching they
have been revealed. All these are truth; but according to the dignity of
the truths he can represent or feel, is the power of the painter,--the
justice of the judge.

CHAPTER III.

OF THE RELATIVE IMPORTANCE OF TRUTHS:--FIRST, THAT PARTICULAR TRUTHS
ARE MORE IMPORTANT THAN GENERAL ONES.

Sec. 1. Necessity of determining the relative importance of truths.

I have in the last chapter affirmed that we usually recognize objects by
their least essential characteristics. This very naturally excites the
inquiry what I consider their important characteristics, and why I call
one truth more important than another. And this question must be
immediately determined, because it is evident, that in judging of the
truth of painters, we shall have to consider not only the accuracy with
which individual truths are given, but the relative importance of the
truths themselves; for as it constantly happens that the powers of art
are unable to render _all_ truths, that artist must be considered the
most truthful who has preserved the most important at the expense of the
most trifling.

Sec. 2. Misapplication of the aphorism: "General truths are more important
than particular ones."

Sec. 3. Falseness of this maxim taken without explanation.

Sec. 4. Generality important in the subject, particularity in the
predicate.

Now if we are to begin our investigation in Aristotle's way, and look at
the [Greek: phainomena] of the subject, we shall immediately stumble
over a maxim which is in everybody's mouth, and which, as it is
understood in practice, is true and useful, as it is usually applied in
argument, false and misleading. "General truths are more important than
particular ones." Often, when in conversation, I have been praising
Turner for his perpetual variety, and for giving so particular and
separate a character to each of his compositions, that the mind of the
painter can only be estimated by seeing all that he has ever done, and
that nothing can be prophesied of a picture coming into existen