202 EPILOGUE 



time, I enjoy Ecclesiastes and Jonah today far more than the 

 latest American best seller. '^8 But, if the first question is taken 

 literally, of course, Taine does not pretend to do any such thing; 

 since he is interested in explaining discernible differences, and 

 not ultimate mysteries, the only possible answer could be: God 

 only knows! If this question means: 'Why is Racine great, and 

 Pradon not?' then his essay on Racine seems a sufficient 

 explanation. 



As to the latter question, a very clear, if not final, answer is 

 provided in The Ideal in Art. Ecclesiastes and Jonah, like any other 

 works of literature and art, may be analyzed, more or less 

 'scientifically' or objectively, and judged to be great by some such 

 objective scales of values as Taine has sketched. We say 'some such 

 scales', because, here as elsewhere, there is room for much im- 

 provement; but there is no denying both the need for, and the 

 pragmatic reality of, universal standards today. Increased ease 

 of international communication makes possible an approach to 

 national literatures which is increasingly just because increasingly 

 comparative; in ever-widening circles of complex relationships, 

 both the concrete individuality of nations and their essential, 

 universal sameness becomes ever more clear. The goal towards 

 which these circles are expanding must surely be a concept of 

 world literature and a brotherhood of all men in the arts, as in life. 



Indeed, brotherhood can be taken as a symbol of both con- 

 creteness and universality, since each brother is individual, but 

 all have in common certain patterns of relationships, social as well 

 as biological. Thus, Christian and Hindu, American and French- 

 man, still retain their distinctive qualities, however much they 

 mix and mingle and gain in mutual understanding; but, as in the 

 sciences, the 'concrete universality' of natural types may function 

 as an ideal limit for aesthetic investigation and, in human afifairs, 

 for practical planning. 



1870 and 1950 



'"No use," said Baxter to himself as, shrugging, he lifted the 

 glass to his lips, "'ours is essentially a tragic age' for those who 

 hold any attachment to the ancien regime. ..." "And oh, Taine, 

 Taine, Taine," he sighed, "and your study of La Fontaine," he 

 almost cried, as ("Apr^s moi le Bernstein!") he took a long pull 

 at his whiskey and soda and set the glass down again.' 



(Stephen Seley, Baxter Bernstein: A Hero of Sorts) 



