tyle? Yet it is absolutely necessary! It must be
done!" He went further still, and persuaded himself that style had a
value in itself, intrinsic and absolute, aside from the subject. In
fact, if the subject had no importance of its own, and if there were no
personal motives for choosing one subject rather than another, what
reason would there be for writing _Madame Bovary_ or _Salammbo_? One
alone: and that to "make something out of nothing," to produce a work of
art from things of no import. For though everyone has some ideas, and
everyone has had experience in some kind of life, it is given to few to
be able to express their experience or their ideas in terms of beauty.
This, precisely, is the goal of art.

Form, then, is the great preoccupation of the artist, since, if he is an
artist, it is through form, and in the perfection or originality of that
form, that his triumph comes. Nothing stands out from the general
mediocrity except by means of form; nothing becomes concrete, assuming
immortality, save through form. Form in art is queen and sovereign. Even
truth makes itself felt only through the attractiveness of form. And
further, we cannot part one from the other; they are not opposed to each
other; they are at one; and art in every phase consists only in this
union. It is the end of art to give the superior life of form to that
which has it not; and finally, this superior life of form, this magic
wand of style, rhythmic as verse and terse as science, by firmly
establishing the thing it touches, withdraws it from that law of change,
constant in its inconstancy, which is the miserable condition of
existence.

All passes; art in its strength
Alone remains to all eternity;
The bust
Survives the city.

This it is that makes up the charm, the social dignity, and the lasting
grandeur of art.

This is not the place to discuss the "aesthetic" quality, and I shall
content myself with indicating briefly some of the objections it has
called forth.

Has form indeed all the importance in literature that Flaubert claimed
for it? And what importance has it in sculpture, for example, or in
painting? Let us grant its necessity. Colour and line, which are, so to
speak, the primal elements in the alphabet of painting and of sculpture,
have not in themselves determined and precise significance. Yellow and
red, green and blue are only general and confused sensations. But words
express particular sentiments