Thus, then, in taking a photograph we must remember that theoretically speaking, up to twenty feet the picture can be made sharper all over than beyond that distance; for the eye has all these perspectives acting within that distance.

By size we estimate distance.

Solidity is judged by binocular vision and lighting.

When to all these difficulties are added those dependent on the subtleties of light reflected into shadow, and the thousand-and-one changes of colour due to the numerous shadows cast by objects in nature, we get a complexity which forces upon us how impossible it is for man to copy nature. A "mere transcript of nature," which is so glibly talked of, is, humanly speaking, an impossibility. No man ever painted a "mere transcript" of nature, or a truthful copy, any more than a man can make plants or animals in a laboratory; but he can, by a picture, give a truthful impression of nature.

On these data and within these limits, then, must we work, and here we append a few general principles deduced from these data, which must guide us in our work. We have followed them ourselves, and they form the scientific part of our creed of "Naturalistic Photography." We have said little upon the drawing of photographic lenses, as that is discussed in another chapter; but of course Naturalistic Photography claims as of vital importance that lenses be used so as to give the drawing of objects as they are seen by the eye - in other words, as they would be drawn by a good draughtsman.

Art Principles Deducted From The Data Cited

We have shown why the human eye does not see nature exactly as she is, but sees instead a number of signs which represent nature, signs which the eye grows accustomed to, and which from habit we call nature herself. We shall now discuss the relation of pictorial art to nature, and shall show the fallacy of calling the most scientifically perfect images obtained with photographic lenses artistically true. They are not correct, as we have shown, and shall again show, but what is artistically true is really what we have all along advocated; that is that the photographer must so use his technique as to render a true impression of the scene. The great heresy of 'sharpness' has lived so long in photographic circles because firstly the art has been practised by scientists, and secondly by unphiloso-phical scientists, for all through the lens has been considered purely from the physical point of view, the far more important physiological and psychological standpoints being entirely ignored, so that but one-third of the truth has been hitherto stated.