Drawing is a work of the mind; every drawing is the expression of a
thought or sentiment, and is charged with showing us something superior
to the apparent truth when that reveals neither sentiment nor thought.
But what is this superior truth? It is sometimes the character of the
object drawn, sometimes the character of the designer, and in high art
is what we call style.
The artist sees in the creations of nature what he himself carries in
the depth of his soul, tints them with the colors of his imagination,
lends them the witchery of his genius. The temperament of the artist
modifies the character of objects, and even that of living figures. But
this power of taking possession is the appanage of great hearts, of
great artists, of those whom we call masters,--who, instead of being the
slaves of reality, dominate it. These have a style; their imitators have
only a manner.
Aside from the style peculiar to every great master, there is in art
something still superior and impersonal, which is style proper. Style is
truth aggrandized, simplified, freed from all insignificant details,
restored to its original essence, its typical aspect. This "style" _par
excellence_, in which instead of recognizing the soul of an artist we
feel the breath of the universal soul, was realized in the Greek
sculpture of the time of Pericles.