longer master of his enthusiasm, he cried out to the author on the stage, “_Courage, Molière! Voilà la vraie comédie!_” And in good architectural style do we not see a comedy indeed, faithfully enacted? Yet, of the thousand and one things that have gone to make architectural style all intimately connected with human events the influence of individuals has counted least. One generation of builders has taken up the work where its immediate predecessor stopped. Each generation commits its blunders, while each adds the imperceptible trifles of such intrinsic value, taken together, as to have produced style. The fashions of architecture--they perish. Style endures. CHAPTER XII CONCLUSION The eye of an artist differs structurally not at all from the eyes of other people. His constant having to do with lines, values and all that, gives him an enviable facility in delineation, the same facility that training would impart in any other vocation; but it is the man--the artist temperament that exists behind the ocular sense that denominates the artist, a matter of pure luck, however, or of birth, which amounts to the same thing. When nature issues his temperament to a man, she stamps on the back of it the words “not transferable” rubricated. By no effort of his own can he bestow his temperament upon anybody else nor materially alter it within himself. He looks upon things always in a certain way--envious folks call it a squint--never may he see them in any other. He struggles with a personal bias so strong, that, in nine cases out of ten, he had much rather die than have to live his life contrary to the cherished autonomy imposed by temperament.