200 EPILOGUE 



It is important, first of all, to place him in the great and con- 

 siderable tradition to which, as a Naturalist, he belongs. Taine's 

 Positivism and Romanticism make him a complete child of the 

 nineteenth century; but, since he was also constantly striving to 

 balance his Romanticism and a Classical heritage, he incor- 

 porated many elements of the Aristotelian tradition, i^ 



However one may judge these broad historical generalizations, 

 which require further elaboration and documentation far beyond 

 our present scope, certain more obvious contributions of Taine to 

 our understanding of literature and art help define his significance 

 for criticism today. 



Primarily, of course, his work stands firm, not as the pioneer 

 example, since the idea is at least as old as Plato and Aristotle, 

 but as the great modern crystallization of the historical method. 

 In Professor Levin's words, citing a comment by Gustave Flau- 

 bert, Taine's History got rid, once and for all, 'of the uncritical 

 notion that books dropped like meteorites from the sky. The social 

 basis of art might thereafter be overlooked, but it could hardly be 

 disputed.' 19 He serves as a perpetual reminder of this fundamental 

 fact to the many who still (such is the stubbornness of human 

 nature!) persist in forgetting it. Professor Levin goes on to claim 

 that 'Taine's introduction to his history of EngHsh literature, 

 which abounds in dogmas . . ., is rather a manifesto than a 

 methodology.' 2 We should prefer to say: rather di general formu- 

 lation of the historical problem than a complete methodology. 

 Taine was scientist enough to realize that he was bound to ask 

 more questions than he could himself answer, that he was rather 

 delineating and exemplifying a 'manner of working' than pre- 

 senting a set of ready-made solutions. 



Another way of stating this contribution is to say that Taine is 

 outstanding among those who attempt the important and difficult 

 task of relating (some would say: confusing!) literature and life. 

 Here, again, he initiates more than he achieves, and, as one must 

 freely admit, often neglects the complications of culture and its 

 conventions. 21 But his solid strength comes from the fact that he 

 keeps literature and the arts firmly where they belong: in the main- 

 stream of social reahty. In Professor Levin's excellent phrase, he 

 treats 'Literature as an Institution', though the elementary 

 character of his social science limits his usefulness today, except as 

 a pioneering example in whose works we find a sound general 

 approach to the problems of method. Paradoxically enough, for 



