UNIVERSIDAD DE COSTA RICA
DEP. FILOSOFÍA ARTES Y LETRAS
IO 5520 LITERATURA COMPARADA
II PERIODO 2010
PROF. ROBERTHO MESEN HIDALGO. LIC.
SECCIÓN LENGUAS MODERNAS
BACH. ENSEÑANZA DEL INGLES
The Name and Nature of Comparative Literature
The term “Comparative Literature” has given rise to so much discussion, has been interpreted so differently and misinterpreted so frequently, that it might be useful to examine its history and to attempt to distinguish its meanings in the main languages. Only then can we hope to define its exact scope and content. Lexicography, “historical semantics,” will be our starting point. Beyond it, a brief history of comparative studies should lead to conclusions of contemporary relevance."Comparative literature" is still a controversial discipline and idea.
There seem no particular problems raised by our two words individually. “Comparative” occurs in Middle English, obviously derived from Latin comparativus. It is used by Shakespeare, as when Falstaff denounces Prince Hal as “the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young prince,” Francis Meres, as early as 1598, uses the term in the caption of “A Comparative Discourse of Our English Poets with the Greek, Latin and Italian Poets.” The adjective occurs in the titles of seventeenth-and eighteenth-century books. In 1602 William Fulbecke published A Comparative Discourse of the Laws. I also find A Comparative Anatomy of Brute Animals in 1765. Its author, John Gregory, published A Comparative View of the State and Faculties of Man with hose of the Animal World in the very next year. Bishop Robert Lowth in his Latin Lectures on the Sacred Poetry of the Hebrews (1753), formulated the ideal of comparative study well enough: “We must see all things with their eyes [i.e. the ancient Hebrews]: estimate all things by their opinions; we must endeavour as much as possible to read Hebrew as the Hebrews would have read it. We must act as the Astronomers with regard to that branch of their science which is called comparative who, in order to form a more perfect idea of the general system and its different parts, conceive themselves as passing through, and surveying, the whole universe, migrating from one planet to another and becoming for a short time inhabitants of each.” In his pioneering History of English Poetry Thomas Warton announced in the Preface to the first volume that he would present “a comparative survey of the poetry of other nations.” George Ellis, in his Specimens of Early English Poets (1790), speaks of antiquaries whose “ingenuity has often been successful in detecting and extracting by comparative criticism many particulars respecting the state of society and the progress of arts and manners” from medieval chronicles. In 1800 Charles Dibdin published, in five volumes, A Complete History of the English Stage, Introduced by a Comparative and Comprehensive Review of the Asiatic, the Grecian, the Roman, the Spanish, the Italian, the Portuguese, the German, the French and Other Theatres. Here the main idea is fully formulated, but the combination “comparative literature” itself seems to occur for the first time only in a letter by Matthew Arnold in 1848, where he says: “How plain it is now, though an attention to the comparative literatures for the last fifty years might have instructed any one of it, that England is in a certain sense far behind the Continent.” But this was a private letter not published till 1895, and “comparative” means here hardly more than “comparable.” In English the decisive use was that of Hutcheson Macaulay Posnett, an Irish barrister who later became Professor of Classics and English Literature at University College, Auckland, New Zealand, who put the term on the title of his book in 1886. As part of Kegan Paul, Trench, and Trübner’s International Scientific Series, the book aroused some attention and was, e.g., favorably reviewed by William Dean Howells. Posnett, in an article, “The Science of Comparative Literature," claimed “to have first stated and illustrated the method and principles of the new science, and to have been the first to do so not only in the British Empire but in the world.” Obviously this is preposterous, even if we limit “comparative literature” to the specific meaning Posnett gave to it. The English term cannot be discussed in isolation from analogous terms in France and Germany.
The lateness of the English term can be explained if we realize that the combination “comparative literature” was resisted in English, because the term “literature” had lost its earlier meaning of “knowledge or study of literature” and had come to mean “literary production in general” or “the body of writings in a period, country, or region.” That this long process is complete today is obvious from such a fact that, e.g., Professor Lane Cooper of Cornell University refused to call the department he headed in the twenties “Comparative Literature” and insisted on
“The Comparative Study of Literature.” He considered it a “bogus term” that “makes neither sense nor syntax.” “You might as well permit yourself to say ‘comparative potatoes’ or ‘comparative husks.’” But in earlier English usage “literature” means “learning” and “literary culture,” particularly a knowledge of Latin. The Tatler reflects sagely in 1710: “It is in vain for folly to attempt to conceal itself by the refuge of learned languages. Literature does but make a man more eminently the thing which nature made him.” Boswell says, for instance, that Baretti was an “Italian of considerable literature.” This usage survived into the nineteenth century, when James Ingram gave an inaugural lecture on the Utility of Anglo-Saxon Literature (1807), meaning the “utility of our knowing Anglo-Saxon,” or when John Petherham wrote An Historical Sketch of the Progress and Present State of Anglo-Saxon Literature in England (1840), where “literature” obviously must mean the study of literature. But these were survivals; “literature” had assumed by then the present meaning of a body of writing. The Oxford English Dictionary gives the first occurrence in 1812, but this is far too late: rather, the modern usage penetrated in the later eighteenth century from France.
Actually, the meaning of “literature” as “literary production”' or “a body of writings” revived a usage of late antiquity. Earlier literatura in Latin is simply a translation of the Greek grammatike and sometimes means a knowledge of reading and writing or even an inscription or the alphabet itself. But Tertullian (who lived from about A.D.160 to 240) and Cassian contrast secular literature
with scriptural, pagan with Christian, literatura with scriptura.
This use of the term reemerges only in the thirties of the eighteenth century in competition with the term literae, lettres, letters. An early example is François Granet’s series Réflexions sur les ouvrages de littérature (1736-40). Voltaire, in Le Siécle de Louis XIV (1751), under the chapter heading “Des Beaux Arts,” uses littérature with an uncertain reference alongside “eloquence, poets, and books of morals and amusement,” and elsewhere in the book he speaks of “littérature légère” and “les genres de littéature” cultivated in Italy. In 1759 Lessing began to publish his Briefe die neueste Literatur betreffend, where literature clearly refers to a body of writings. That the usage was still unusual at that time may be illustrated from the fact that Nicolas Trublet’s Essais sur divers sujets de littérature et morale (1735-54) were translated into German as Versuche über verschiedene Gegenstände der Sittenlehre und Gelehrsamkeit (1776).
This use of the word “literature” for all literary production, which is still one of our meanings, was in the eighteenth century soon nationalized and localized. It was applied to French, German, Italian, and Venetian literature, and almost simultaneously the term often lost its original inclusiveness and was narrowed down to mean what we would today call “imaginative literature,” poetry, and imaginative, fictive prose. The first book which exemplifies this double change is, as
far as I know, Carlo Denina’s Discorso sopra le vicende delia letteratura (1760). Denina professes not to speak “of the progress of the sciences and arts, which are not properly a part of literature”; he will speak of works of learning only when they belong to “good taste, and to eloquence, that is to say, to literature.” The Preface of the French translator speaks of Italian, English, Greek, and Latin literature. In 1774 there appeared an Essai sur la Iittérature russe by N. Novikov in Leghorn, and we have a sufficiently local reference in Mario Foscarini’s Storia della letteratura veneziana (1752). The process of nationalization and, if I may use the term, aesthetization of the word is beautifully illustrated by A. de Giorgi-Berto1a’s Idea della letteratura alemanna (Lucca, 1784), which is an expanded edition of the earlier Idea della poesia alemanna (Naples, 1779), where the change of title was forced by his inclusion of a report on German novels. In German the term Nationalliteratur focuses on the nation as the unit of literature: it appears for the first time in the title of Leonhard Meister's Beyträge zur Geschichte der teutschen Sprache und Nationalliteratur (1777) and persists into the nineteenth century. Some of the best known German literary histories carry it in the title: Wachler, Koberstein, Gervinus in 1835, and later A. Vilmar and R. Gottschall.
But the aesthetic limitation of the term was for a long time strongly resented. Philarète Chasles, for example, comments in 1847: “I have little esteem for the word ‘literature’; it seems to me meaningless, it is a result of intellectual corruption.” It seems to him tied to the Roman and Greek tradition of rhetoric. It is “something which is neither philosophy, nor history, nor erudition, nor criticism—something I know not what: vague, impalpable, and elusive.” Chasles prefers “intellectual history” to “literary history.”
In English the same process took place. Sometimes it is still difficult to distinguish between the old meaning of literature as literary culture and a reference to a body of writing. Thus, as early as 1755, Dr. Johnson wanted to found Annals of Literature, Foreign as well as Domestick. In 1761 George Colman, the elder, thought that “Shakespeare and Milton seem to stand alone, like first rate authors, amid the general wreck of old English Literature.” In 1767 Adam Ferguson included a chapter, “Of the History of Literature,” in his Essay on the History of Civil Society. In 1774 Dr. Johnson had a letter, wished that “what is undeservedly forgotten of our antiquated literature might be revived,” and John Berkenhout in 1777 subtitled his Biographia Literaria, A Biographical History of Literature, in which he proposed to give a concise view of the rise and progress of literature. The Preface to De La Curne de Sainte-Palaye's Literary History the Troubadours, translated in 1779 by Mrs. Susanna son, speaks of the troubadours as “the fathers of modern literature,” and James Beattie in 1783 wants to trace the rise progress of romance in order to shed light upon “the history and politics, the manners and the literature of these latter ages.”  There were books such as William Rutherford’s A View of Ancient History, Including the Progress of Literature, and the Fine Arts (1788), Sketches of a History of literature by Robert Alves (1794), and An Introduction to the Literary History of the 14th and 15th Centuries (I798), by Andrew Philpot, which complains that “there is nothing more wanting in English literature” than “a history of the revival of letters.” But we may be surprised to hear that the first book with the title A History of English Language and Literature was a little handbook by Robert Chambers in 1836 and that the first Professor of English Language and Literature was the Reverend Thomas Dale, at University College, London, in 1828.
Thus the change in meaning of the term “literature” hindered in English the adoption of the term “comparative literature,” while “comparative politics,” prominently advocated by the historian E. A. Freeman in 1873, was quite acceptable, as was “comparative grammar,” which appeared on the title page of a translation of Franz Bopp’s Comparative Grammar of Sanskrit, Zend, Greek, etc., in 1844.
In France the story was different; there littérature for a long time preserved the meaning of literary study. Voltaire, in his unfinished article on Littérature for his Dictionnaire philosophique (1764-72), defines literature as “a knowledge of the works of taste, a smattering of history, poetry, eloquence, and criticism,” and he distinguishes it from “la belle littérature,” which relates to “objects of beauty, to poetry', eloquence and well-written history.”Voltaire’s follower, Jean François Marmontel, who wrote the main literary articles for the great Encyclopédie, which were collected as Eléments de littérature (1787), clearly uses littérature as meaning “a knowledge of belles lettres,” which he contrasts with erudition. “With wit, talent and taste,” he avows, “one can produce ingenious works, without any erudition, and with little literature.” Thus it was possible early in the nineteenth century to form the combination littérature comparée, which was apparently suggested by Cuvier's famous Anatomie comparée (1800) or Degérando’s Historie comparée des systèmes de philosophie (1804). In 1816 two compilers, Noël and Laplace, published a series of anthologies from French, classical, and English literature with the otherwise unused and unexplained title page: Cours de littérature comparée. Charles Pougens, in Lettres philosophiques à Madame xxx sur dirers sujets de morale et littérature (1826), complained that there is no work on the principles of literature he can recommend: “un cours de littérature comme je l'entends, c'est-à-dire, un cours de littérature comparée.”
The man, however, who gave the term currency in France was undoubtedly Abel-François Villemain, whose course in eighteenth-century literature was a tremendous success at the Sorbonne in the late twenties. It was published in 1828-29 as Tableau de la littérature française au XVIIIe siècle in 4 volumes, with even the flattering reactions of the audience inserted (“Vifs applaudissements. On rit.”). There he uses several times tableau comparée, études comparées, histoire comparée, but also littérature comparée in praising the Chancelier Daguesseau for his “vastes études de philosophie, d’histoire, de littérature comparée.” In the second lecture series, Tableau de la littérature au moyen âge en France, en Italie, en Espagne et en Angleterre (2 volumes, 1830), he speaks again of “amateurs de la littérature comparée,” and in the Preface to the new edition in 1840, Villemain, not incorrectly, boasts that here for the first time in a French university an attempt at an “analyse compare” of several modern literatures was made.
After Villemain tile term was used fairly frequently. Philarète Chasles delivered an inaugural lecture at the Athénée in 1835: in the printed version in the Revue de Paris, the course is called “Littérature étrangère comparée.”Adolphe-Louisde Puibusque wrote a two-volume Histoire comparée de la littérature fançaise et espagnole (1843), where he quotes Villemain, the perpetual Secretary of the French Academy, as settling the question. The term comparative, however, seems to have for a time competed with comparée. J. J. Ampère, in his Discours sur l'histoire de la poésie (1830), speaks of “l’histoire comparative des arts et de la literature” but later also uses the other term in the title of his Histoire de la littérature française au moyen âge comparée aux littratures étrangères (1841). The decisive text in favor of the term littérature comparée is in Sainte-Beuve's very late article, an obituary of Ampère, in the Revue des deux mondes in 1868.
In Germany the word “comparative” was translated vergleichende in scientific contexts. Goethe in 1795 wrote “Erster Entwurf einer aIlgemeinen Einleitung in die vergleichende Anatomic.” Vergleichende Grammatik was used by August Wilhelm Schlegel in a review in 1803, and Friedrich Schlegel’s pioneering book Über Sprache und Weisheit der Inder (1808) used vergleichende Grammatik prominently as a program of a new science expressly recalling the model of “vergleichende Anatomie.” The adjective became common in Germany for ethnology, and later psychology, historiography, and poetics. But for the very same reason as in English, it had difficulty making its way with the word “literature.” As far as I know, Moriz Carriere in 1854, in a book, Das Wesen und die Formen der Poesie, uses the term vergleichende Literaturgeschichte for the first time. The term vergleichende Literatur occurs surprisingly as the title of a forgotten periodical edited by Hugo von Meltzl, in the remote city of Klausenburg (now Cluj, in Rumania): his Zeitschrift für vergleichende Literatur ran from 1877-88. In 1886 Max Koch, at the University of Breslau, founded a Zeitschrift für vergleichende Literaturgeschichte, which survived till 1910. Von Meltzl emphasized that his conception of comparative literature was not confined to history and, in the last numbers of his periodical, he changed the title to Zeitschrift vergleichende Literaturwissenschaft. A fairly new term in German, Literaturwissenschaft, was adopted early in the twentieth century for what we usually call “literary criticism” or “theory of literature.” The new German periodical Arcadia is called Zeitschrift für vergleichende Literaturwissenschaft.
There is no need to enter into a history of the terms elsewhere. In Italian, letteratura comparata is clearly and easily formed on the French model. The great critic Francesco De Sanctis occupied a chair called della letteramra comparata at Naples, from 1872 till his death in 1883. Arturo Graf became the holder of such a chair at Turin in 1876. In Spanish the term literatura comparada seems even more recent.
I am not sure when the term is used first in the Slavic languages. Alexander Veselovsky, the greatest Russian comparatiste, did not use the term in his inaugural lecture as Professor of General Literature at St. Petersburg in 1870, but he reviewed Koch’s new periodical in 1887 and there used the term sravnitelnoe literaturovedenie, which is closely modeled on vergleichende Literaturwissenschaft. At the University of Prague a chair called srovnávací literatura was created in 1911.
Incomplete or even slightly incorrect in its detail, this history of the terms in the main languages could become more meaningful if treated in the context of competition with rival terms. “Comparative literature” occurs in what semanticists have called “a field of meaning.” We have alluded to “learning,” “letters,” and “belles letters” as rival terms for “literature.” “Universal literature,” “international literature,” “general literature,” and “world literature” are the competitors of “comparative literature.” “Universal literature” occurs in the eighteenth century and is used rather widely in German: there is an article in 1776 discussing eine Universalgeschichte der Dichtktunst, and in 1859 a reviewer proposed “eine Universalgeschichte der modernen Litteratun.” “General literature” exists in English: e.g. James Montgomery gave Lectures on General Literature, Poetry, etc. (1833), where “general literature” means what we would call “theory of literature” or “principles of criticism.” The Reverend Thomas Dale in 1831 became Professor of English Literature and History in the Department of General Literature and Science at King’s College, London. In Germany J. G. Eichhorn edited a whole series of books called Allgemeine Geschichte der Literatur (1788 ff). There were similar compilations: Johann David Hartmann, Versuch einer allgemeinen Geschichte der Poesie (2 volumes, 1797 and 1798), and Ludwig Wachler, Versuch einer allgemeinen Geschichte der Literatur in 4 volumes (1793-1801), and Johann Georg Grässe’s Lehrbuch einer allgemeinen Literärgeschichte (1837-57), an enormous bibliographical compilation.
The term “world literature,” Weltliteratur, was used by Goethe in 1827 in commenting on a translation of his drama Tasso into French, and then several times, sometimes in slightly different senses: he was thinking of a single unified world literature in which differences between the individual literatures would disappear, though he knew that this would be quite remote. In a draft Goethe equates “European” with “world literature,” surely provisionally. There is a well-known poem by Goethe, "Weltliteratur" (1827), which rehearses, rather, the delights of folk poetry and actually got its title erroneously from the editor of the 1840 posthumous edition. The history of the concept has been studied well. Today world literature may mean simply all literature, as in the title of many books, such as Otto Hauser’s, or it may mean a canon of excellent works from many languages, as when one says that this or that book or author belongs to world literature: Ibsen belongs to world literature, while Jonas Lie does not; Swift belongs to world literature, while Thomas Hardy does not.
Just as the exact use of “world literature” is still debatable, the use of “comparative literature” has given rise to disputes as to its exact scope and methods, which are not yet resolved. It is useless to be dogmatic about such matters, as words have the meaning authors assign to them and neither a knowledge of history nor common usage can prevent changes or even complete distortions of the original meaning. Still, clarity on such matters avoids mental confusion, while excessive ambiguity or arbitrariness leads to intellectual dangers which may not be as serious as calling hot, cold, or communism democracy, but which still hamper agreement and communication. One can distinguish, first, a strict, narrow definition; Van Tieghem, for example, defines it thus: “The object of comparative literature is essentially the study of diverse literatures in their relations with one another.” Guyard in his handbook, which follows Van Tieghem closely in doctrine and contents, calls comparative literature succinctly “the history of international literary relations,” and J. M.Carré in his Preface to Guyard, calls it “a branch of literary history; it is the study of spiritual international relations, of factual contacts which took place between Byron and Pushkin, Goethe and Carlyle, Waiter Scott and Vigny, between the works, the inspirations and even the lives of writers belonging to several literatures.” Similar formulations can be found elsewhere: e.g. in the volume on comparative literature of Momigliano’s series Problemi ed orientamenti (1948), where Anna Saitta Revignas speaks of comparative literature as “a modern science which centers on research into the problems connected with the influences exercised reciprocally by various literatures.”Fernand Baldensperger, the recognized leader of the French school, in the programmatic article introducing the first number of the Revue de littérature comparée(1921), does not attempt a definition but agrees with one implied limitation of the concept: he has no use for comparisons which do not involve “a real encounter” that has “created a dependence.” But his article does discuss many wider problems excluded by his followers.
In a wider sense “comparative literature” includes what Van Tieghem calls “general literature.” He confines “comparative literature” to “binary” relations, between two elements, while “general literature” concerns research into “the facts common to several literatures.” It can, however, be argued that it is impossible to draw a line between comparative literature and general literature, between, say, the influence of Walter Scott in France and the rise of the historical novel. Besides, the term “general literature” lends itself to confusion: it has been understood to mean literary theory, poetics, the principles of literature. Comparative literature in the narrow sense of binary relations cannot make a meaningful discipline, as it would have to deal only with the “foreign trade” between literatures and hence with fragments of literary production. It would not allow treating the individual work of art. It would be (as apparently Carré is content to think) a strictly auxiliary discipline of literary history with a fragmentary, scattered subject matter and with no peculiar method of its own. The study of the influence, say, of Byron in England cannot, methodologically, differ from a study of the influence of Byron in France, or from a study of European Byronism. The method of comparison is not peculiar to comparative literature; it is ubiquitous in all literary study and in all sciences, social and natural. Nor does literary study, even in the practice of the most orthodox comparative scholars, proceed by the method of comparison alone. Any literary scholar will not only compare but reproduce, analyze, interpret, evoke, evaluate, generalize, etc., all on one page.
There are other attempts to define the scope of comparative literature by adding something specific to the narrow definition. Thus Carré and Guyard include the study of national illusions, the ideas which nations have of each other. M. Carré has written an interesting book on Les Ecrivains français et le mirage allemand (1947), which is national psychology or sociology drawn from literary sources but hardly literary history. A book such as Guyard’s La Grande Bretagne dans le roman français: 1914-1940 (1954) is slightly disguised Stoffgeschichte: an account of the English clergymen, diplomats, writers, chorus girls, businessmen, etc., appearing in French novels of a certain time.
Less arbitrary and more ambitious is the recent attempt by H. H. H. Remak to expand the definition of comparative literature. He calls it “the study of literature beyond the confines of one particular country, and the study of the relationships between literature on the one hand and the other areas of knowledge and belief, such as the arts, philosophy, history, the social sciences, the sciences, religion, etc., on the otherhand.” But Mr. Remak is forced to make artificial and untenable distinctions: e.g. between a study of Hawthorne’s relation to Calvinism, labeled “comparative,” and a study of his concepts of guilt, sin, and expiation, reserved for “American” literature. The whole scheme strikes one as devised for purely practical purposes in an American graduate school where you may have to justify a thesis topic as “comparative literature” before unsympathetic colleagues resenting incursions into their particular fields of competence. But as a definition it cannot survive closer scrutiny.
At one time in history, the time decisive for the establishment of the term in English, comparative literature was understood to mean something both very specific and very wide-ranging. In Posnett’s book it means “the general theory of literary evolution, the idea that literature passes through stages of inception, culmination and decline.” Comparative literature is set into a universal social history of mankind, “the gradual expansion of social life, from clan to city, from city to nation, from both of these to cosmopolitan humanity.” Posnett and his followers are dependent on the evolutionary philosophy of Herbert Spencer, which today is almost forgotten in literary studies.
Finally, the view has been propounded that comparative literature can best be defended and defined by its perspective and spirit, rather than by any circumscribed partition within literature. It will study all literature from an international perspective, with a consciousness of the unity of all literary creation and experience. In this conception (which is also mine) comparative literature is identical with the study of literature independent of linguistic, ethnic, and political boundaries. It cannot be confined to a single method: description, characterization, interpretation, narration, explanation, evaluation are used in its discourse just as much as comparison. Nor can comparison be confined to actual historical contacts. There may be, as the experience of recent linguistics should teach literary scholars, as much value in comparing phenomena such as languages or genres historically unrelated as in studying influences discoverable from evidence of reading or parallels. A study of Chinese, Korean, Burmese, and Persian narrative methods or lyrical forms is surely as justified as the study of the casual contacts with the East exemplified by Voltaire’s OrpheIin de la Chine. Nor can comparative literature be confined to literary history to the exclusion of criticism and contemporary literature. Criticism, as I have argued many times, cannot be divorced from history, as there are no neutral facts in literature. The mere act of selecting from millions of printed books is a critical act, and the selection of the traits or aspects under which a book may be treated is equally an act of criticism and judgment. The attempt to erect precise barriers between the study of literary history and contemporary literature is doomed to failure: Why should a specified date or even the death of an author constitute a sudden lifting of a taboo? Such limits may be possible to enforce in the centralized system of French education, but elsewhere they are unreal. Nor can the historical approach be considered the only possible method, even for the study of the dim past. Works of literature are monuments and not documents. They are immediately accessible to us today; they challenge us to seek an understanding in which knowledge of the historical setting or the place in a literary tradition may figure, but not exclusively or exhaustively. The three main branches of literary study—history, theory, and criticism—involve each other, just as the study of a national literature cannot be divorced from the study of the totality of literature, at least in idea. Comparative literature can and will flourish only if it shakes off artificial limitations and becomes simply the study of literature.
The meaning and the origin of these distinctions and issues will become clearer if we glance at the history of comparative studies without regard to the name or to definitions. H. H. H. Remak, in a lecture at the Fribourg Congress in 1964, rightly said that there is “no more urgent task than the writing and publication of a thorough history of our discipline.” I obviously cannot pretend to fulfill this demand in such a short space, but as I wrote the first and only history of English literary historiography twenty-five years ago and paid constant attention to writings on literary history in the four volumes of my History of Modern Criticism, I can sketch the main stages of the development of comparative and general literature with some assurance.
If we glance at antiquity, it will be obvious that the Greeks could not have been comparative students in the early period, as they lived in a closed world to which all the other nations were barbarians. But the Romans were highly conscious of their dependence on the Greeks. In Tacitus’ Dialogue on Orators, for example, there is an elaborate parallel between Greek and Roman orators where the individual writers are matched or contrasted with some care. In Quintilian’s Institurio a whole sketch of the history of Greek and Roman literature is provided which consistently pays attention to the Greek models of the Romans. Longinus, or whoever wrote the treatise usually called On the Sublime, compares the style of Cicero and Demosthenes briefly and gives as an example of the Grand Style the passage from Genesis: “‘Let there be light’; and there was light.” Macrobius, in the much later Saturnalia, has a long discussion of Virgil’s imitations of Greek poets. Though the experience of the variety of literature in antiquity was limited, and though much of their scholarship was lost—during the Middle Ages it must have been considered ephemeral or local and thus not worth copying—we should not underrate the scope and the intensity of literary scholarship in classical antiquity, particularly in Alexandria and Rome. There was much textual criticism, stylistic observation, and even something which might please a modern comparatist: an elaborate comparison of the treatment of the Philoctetes theme by Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides has been preserved.
The Renaissance revived literary scholarship on a very large scale. There is a clear historical consciousness in the very idea of the revival of learning and the break with the intellectual traditions of the Middle Ages, even though the break was not as complete or sudden as was assumed in the nineteenth century. Still, looking for forerunners of comparative methods or perspectives yields little in that time. The authority of antiquity often rather stifled the concrete variety of the literary traditions of the Middle Ages and imposed, at least in theory, a certain uniformity. Scaliger in his Poetics (1561) devotes a whole book, “Criticus” (a new term then), to a series of comparisons of Homer with Virgil, Virgil with Greeks other than Homer, Horace and Ovid with Greeks, always asserting the superiority of the Romans over the Greeks, using passages on the same subjects from different poets. Scaliger is mainly concerned with the game of ranking and is motivated by an odd kind of Latin nationalism interested in denigrating everything that is Greek. Etienne Pasquier (1529-1615) uses the same method in comparing a passage from Virgil with one from Ronsard. To give an English example for the widespread method of rhetorical comparisons: Francis Meres, in “A Comparative Discourse of Our English Poets with the Greek, Latin and Italian Poets,” which I have mentioned, quite perfunctorily ranked Shakespeare with Ovid, Plautus, and Seneca. The motivation of most Renaissance scholarship was patriotic: Englishmen compiled lists of writers in order to prove their glorious achievements in all subjects of learning; Frenchmen, Italians, and Germans did exactly the same.
There was also a very occasional awareness of the existence of literature outside of the Western tradition. Samuel Daniel’s remarkable Defence of Rime (1607) shows that he knew that Turks and Arabs, Slavs and Hungarians use rhyme. For him Greece and Rome are no absolute authority, since even the barbarians are “children of nature as well as they.” “There is but one learning, which omnes gentes habent in cordibus suis, one and the self-same spirit that worketh in all.” But this tolerance and universality in Daniel is still completely unhistorical: men are everywhere and at any time the same.
About the same time, a new conception of literary history was propounded by Francis Bacon in his Advancement of Learning (1603). Literary history was to be a “history of the flourishings, decays, depressions, removes” of schools, sects, and traditions. “Without it the history of the world seemeth to me as the statua of Polyphemus with his eye out; that part being wanting which doth most show the spirit and life of the person.” In the later Latin version (1623) Bacon adds the proposal that from “taste and observation of the argument, style and method” of the best books, “the learned spirit of an age, as by a kind of charm, should be awaked and raised from the dead.” Bacon, of course, did not conceive of literary history as primarily a history of imaginative literature: it was rather a history of learning which included poetry. Still, Bacon’s proposal went far beyond the dull lists of authors, collections of lives of authors, and bibliographical repertories which were being assembled at that time in most Western countries.
It took a long time before Bacon’s program was carried out in practice. In Germany, for example, Peter Lambeck (1628-80) compiled a Podromus historiae literariae (1659) which reprints the passage from Bacon as a kind of epigraph, but the contents show that Lambeck had not understood the idea of Bacon’s universal intellectual history at all. He begins with the creation of the world, biblical history, describes the teachings of Zoroaster, compiles data on Greek philosophers, etc. It al1 remains a mass of inert and undigested uncritical learning. If we want to feel proud about progress in our studies, I recommend looking into Jakob Friederich Reimann’s Versuch einer Einleitung in die historiam literariarr antedituvianam d.h. in die Geschichte der Gelehrsamkeit und derer Gelehrten vor der Sändflut (1727), a display of childish pedantry which shows no sense of evidence or chronology beyond that which can be extracted from the Old Testament accounts.
The accumulation of storehouses of bibliographical and biographical information reached enormous proportions in the eighteenth century. In France the Benedictines started an Histoire littéraire de la France (12 volumes, 1733-62) which, in the eighteenth century, barely reached the twelfth century. Girolamo Tiraboschi's Storia della letteratura italiana (14 volumes, 1772-81) is still admired for its accuracy and wealth of information. A Spanish Jesuit, Juan Andrés, compiled in Italian one of the most impressive repertories of all literatures, Dell'origine, progresso e stato attuale d’ogni letteratura (1782-99), in seven large volumes, where the whole world of books is divided up by genres, disciplines, nations, and centuries with no sense of narrative flow and little of continuity. The English work in literary history which is comparable to those continental achievements, Thomas Warton’s History of English Poetry (3 volumes, 1774-81), while in the main a repertory of extracts, an account of manuscripts and biographical notices, is, however, permeated by a new spirit. It could not have been written without the idea of progress, without the new tolerant interest in the Middle Ages, and without an idea (however schematic) of literary development.
The idea of progress, also in literature, triumphed in the “Querelle des anciens et des modernes,” which in English is usually called The Battle of Books. Charles Perrault’s Paralèle des anciens et des modernes (1688-97) argues by contrasting and comparing the funeral orations of Pericles, Lysias, and Isocrates with those of Bossuet, Fléchier, and Bourdaloue, or the panegyric of Pliny on the Emperor Trajan with the eulogy of Voiture on Richelieu, or the letters of Pliny and Cicero with those of Guez de Balzac―always preferring the French to the ancients. Progress, in literature as in other spheres, became the obsessive theme of the whole in other spheres, became the obsessive theme of the whole century, though it is not always naïvely conceived as unilateral and allows for relapses. To give English examples: even the conservative Dr. Johnson conceives of the history of English poetry as a steady advance from the barbaric roughness of Chaucer to the perfect smoothness of Pope, which could not be improved on even in the future; Warton, who had a genuine liking for Chaucer and Spenser, always prefers his own time's ideas of discrimination, propriety, correctness, and good taste to the irregular charms of the Elizabethans. Still, Warton shows a new tolerance for the variety of literature and a curiosity for its origins and derivations. He belongs to a whole group of scholars in the eighteenth century who were interested in the institution of chivalry, in courtly love, and in their literary analogues, the romance and the courtly lyric. But the new interest in the non-Latin literary tradition was still halfhearted. Men like Warton, Bishop Percy, and Bishop Hurd held a point of view which exalted the age of Queen Elizabeth as the golden age of English literature but at the same time allowed them to applaud the triumph of reason in their own “polite” literature. They believed in the progress of civilization and even modern good taste, but regretted the decay of “a world of fine fabling,” which they studied as antiquaries pursuing a fascinating hobby. They were animated by a truly historical spirit of tolerance but also remained detached and uninvolved and thus strangely sterile in their eclecticism.
In Warton and his contemporaries another trend had won out which had been preparing for a long time. Literature was conceived in the main as belles lettres, as imaginative literature, and not merely as a branch of learning on the same footing as astronomy or jurisprudence. This process of specialization is connected with the whole rise of the modern system of arts and their clear distinction front the sciences and crafts, and with the formulation of the whole enterprise of aesthetics. Aesthetics as a term comes from Germany and was invented by Baumgarten in 1735, but the singling out of poetry and imaginative prose had been accomplished before in connection with the problem of taste, good taste, or belles lettres, “elegant,” “polite” arts or however they might call it then. With the emphasis on what we would call the art of literature came also the emphasis on nationality, for poetry was deeply embedded in a national language, and the increasing resistance to the cultural leveling accomplished by the Enlightenment brought about a new turn toward the past, which inevitably was medieval or at the most very early modern. The English and Scottish critics of the eighteenth century prepared the way, but it was in Germany that the ideal of literary history on these new terms was stated and carried out most consistently. The decisive figure was Johann Gottfried Herder (1744-1803), who conceived of literary history as a totality in which “the origin, the growth, the changes and the decay of literature with the divers styles of regions, periods, and poets” would be shown and in which the individual national literatures would make up the basic entities which he wanted to defend in their purity and originality. Herder's first important book, Über die neuere deutsche Literatur: Fragmente (1767), attacks imitation, particularly of French and Latin literature, and points to the regenerative powers of folk poetry. Herder recommends collecting it not only among Germans but among “Scythians and Slavs, Wends and Bohemians, Russians, Swedes and Poles.” Thus the fervent German nationalism led, paradoxically, to a wide expansion of the literary horizon: every nation does or should take part, with its characteristic voice, in the great concert of poetry. While Herder sketched a new ideal, which was fulfilled only by the romantics, he was still steeped in the concepts of his time. The literary process is seen by him most often in terms of a rather naïve determinism of climate, landscape, race, and social conditions. Madame de Staël’s book, De la Littérature (1800), with its simpleminded trust in perfectibility and in the contrast between the gay and sunny South with the dark and gloomy North, even in literature, belongs still to the schematic history of the Enlightenment.
Only the two Schlegels developed the forward-looking suggestions of Herder's sketches and became the first literary historians who, on a broad scale and with considerable concrete knowledge, carried out the idea of a universal narrative literary history in a historical context. While they were understandably preoccupied with western Europe, they extended at least on occasion, their interest to eastern Europe and became pioneers in the study of Sanskrit literature. Friedrich Schlegel’s Über Sprache und Weisheit der lnder (1808) was a bold program which was later carried out in part by A. W. Schlegel with his editions of the Indian epics. For Friedrich Schlegel literature forms “a great, completely coherent and evenly organized whole, comprehending in its unity many worlds of art and itself forming a peculiar work of art,” but this “universal progressive poetry” is conceived as being based on national literature as an organism, as epitome of a nation's history: “the essence of all intellectual faculties and productions of a nation.” Unfortunately, Friedrich Schlegel’s Geschichte deer alien und neon Literature (1815) was written after his conversion to Roman Catholicism, in the atmosphere of the Vienna of 1812, and is thus colored strongly with the spirit of the anti-Napoleonic Restoration. A.W. Schlegel’s early Berlin lectures (1803-04), which sketch the whole history of Western literature with the dichotomy of classical versus romantic as an organizing principle, were not published till 1884, and his Lectures on Dramatic Art and Literature (1809-11) are limited to one genre and are strongly polemical. Still, they carried, in French, English, and Italian translation, the message of German romanticism to the rest of Europe. The Schlegels’ concept of literature, which is definitely comparative both in the narrow and in a wide sense, seems to me still true and meaningful in spite of the deficiencies of their information, the limitations of their taste, and the bias of their nationalism.
Schlegelian literary history was written throughout the nineteenth century in many lands. It penetrated with Sismondi to France, where Villemain, Ampère, and Chasles attempt it. In Italy Emiliani Giudici, in Denmark Brandes (with his very different politics), and in England Carlyle share their concept. When Carlyle says “the History of a nation’s Poetry is the essence of its History, political, economic, scientific, religious,” and when he calls literature “the truest emblem of the national spirit and manner of existence,” he echoes the Schlegels and Herder. Surprising though this may appear, even Taine shares their basic insight. Works of art “furnish documents because they are monuments.” 
The Schlegelian concept of literary history must be distinguished from the concept I would call peculiarly “romantic”: the view based on the idea of prehistory, a kind of reservoir of themes from which all modern literature is de-rived and to whose glories it compares only as a dim artificial light to the sun. This view was stimulated by the new study of mythology, comparative religion, and philology. The Brothers Grimm are its main exponents, the early practitioners of comparative research into the migration of fairy tales, legends, and sagas. Jakob Grimm believed in natural poetry as composing itself far in the dim past and as gradually deteriorating with the distance from the divine source of revelation. His patriotism is panteutonic, but his taste embraces all folk poetry wherever found: old Spanish romances, French chansons de geste, Serbian heroic epics, Arabic and Indian folk tales. The Grimms stimulated everywhere the study of what later was called Stoffgeschichte. It is worth looking at Richard Price's Preface to the new edition of Warton’s History of English Poetry (1824) to see the changed conception. He pleads for “general literature” as a huge treasure house of themes which spread, multiply, and migrate according to laws similar to those established for language by the new comparative philology. Price believes that “popular fiction is in its nature traditive” and represents an age old symbolic wisdom. In England scholars such as Sir Francis Palgrave and Thomas Wright pursued these studies systematically with great erudition. In France Claude Fauriel, who had translated Greek folk songs, is a comparable figure, except that what in the Grimms was a dim teutonic past is by him traced back to his own homeland: southern France, Provence.
Around 1850 the atmosphere changed completely. Romantic conceptions fell into discredit, and ideals imported from the natural sciences became victorious, even in the writing of literary history. One must, however, distinguish what might be called “factualism,” the enormous proliferation of research into facts or supposed facts, from “scientism,” which appealed mainly to the concept of biological evolution and envisaged an ideal of literary history in which the laws of literary production and change would be discovered. The transition can be illustrated strikingly from Renan’s L’Avenir de la science. Renan looks back to Herder, to the new mythology and the study of primitive poetry. “The comparative study of literature,” he tells us, has shown that Homer is a collective poet; it has brought out his “mythisme,” the primitive legend behind him. The progress of literary history is entirely due to its search for origins and hence its attention to exotic literatures. The use of the comparative method, that “grand instrument of criticism,” is the turning point. Renan, at the same time, is almost intoxicated with hope for the future of the science of philology, which will establish the history of the human mind. But he is still wary (and became more so in his later life) of all attempts to establish laws in literature and history as they were sought for by Comte, Mill, Buckle, and many others before Darwin or Spencer.
The idea of laws, of regularities in literature, goes back to antiquity and was restated in eighteenth-century speculative schemes, but it becomes a dominant concern with the victory of comparative philology, its idea of development, continuity, and derivation. Darwinism and similar philosophical schemes, particularly Spencer’s, gave a new impetus to the idea of evolution and genre conceived on the analogy of a biological species in literary history. In Germany Moriz Haupt advocated a “comparative poetics,” particularly a natural history of the epic. He studied the analogical development of the epic in Greece, France, Scandinavia, Germany, Serbia, and Finland. Haupt inspired Wilhelm Scherer; who conceived of literary history as a morphology of
Poetic forms. Many of these ideas grew out of a Berlin circle around Steinthal, who founded the Zeitschrift für Völkerpsychologie in 1864. This circle provided the inspiration for Alexander Veselovsky, who, after his return to Russia in 1870, put out a steady stream of studies on the migration of themes and plots, ranging all over the Western and Eastern world, from the dimmest antiquity to romantic literature. He aimed at a “historical poetics,” a universal evolutionary history of poetry, a collective approach which would approximate the ideal of a “history without names.” In England the influence of Spencer was felt somewhat differently. John Addington Symonds applied a strictly biological analogy to Elizabethan drama and Italian painting and defended the “application of evolutionary principles” to art and literature also theoretically: each genre runs a fateful course of germination, expansion, efflorescence, and decay. We should be able to predict the future of literature. Posnett’s book, which was crucial for the establishment of the term comparative literature, is another application of Spencer’s scheme of a social development from communal to individual life. There are many now forgotten books, some by Americans, which follow this trend. Francis Gummere’s Beginnings of Poetry (1901) and A. S. Mackenzie’s The Evolution of Literature (1911) may serve as examples.
In France Ferdinand Brunetière was the theorist and practitioner of evolution. He treated genres as biological species and wrote histories of French criticism, drama, and lyrical poetry according to this scheme. Though he limited himself to French subjects, his theory led him logically to a concept of universal literature and to a defense of comparative literature. When in 1900, in connection with the World Exhibition in Paris, a Congress of Historical Studies was held, a whole section (sparsely attended) was reserved for “Histoire comparée des littératures.” Brunetière opened it with an address on “European literature” which appealed not only to the model of the Schlegels and Ampère but also to J. A. Symonds. Brunetière was followed as speaker by Gaston Paris, the great French medievalist. He expounded, in a dramatic clash of viewpoints, the older conception of comparative literature―i.e. the folklore concept, the idea of the migration of themes and motifs all over the world. Somewhat later this study received new impetus from Finnish folklore research and has expanded into an almost independent branch of learning related to ethnology and anthropology. In this country it is now rarely identified with comparative literature; but older nineteenth-century literary journals are filled with such topics, and in the Slavic countries “comparative literature” often means just such a study of international themes and motifs.
With the decline of evolutionism and the criticism launched against its mechanistic application by Bergson, Croce, and others, and with the predominance of the late nineteenth century aestheticism and impressionism, which stressed again the individual creator, the unique work of art, and highly sophisticated literature, these concepts of comparative literature, these concepts of Comparative literature were either abandoned or were pushed to the margin of literary studies.
What reemerged was largely the factualism inherited from the general tradition of empiricism and positivism supported by the ideal of scientific objectivity and causal explanation. The organized enterprise of comparative literature in France accomplished mainly an enormous accumulation of evidence about literary relations, particularly on the history of reputations, the intermediaries between nations—travelers, translators, and propagandists. The unexamined assumption in such research is the existence of a neutral fact which is supposed to be connected as if by a thread with other preceding facts. But the whole conception of a “cause” in literary study is singularly uncritical; nobody has ever been able to show that a work of art was “caused” by another work of art, even though parallels and similarities can be accumulated. A later work of art may not have been possible without a preceding one, but it cannot be shown to have been caused by it. The whole concept of literature in these researches is external and often vitiated by narrow nationalism: by a computing of cultural riches, a credit and debit calculus in matters of the mind.
I am not alone in criticizing the sterility of this conception. Still, my paper on “The Crisis of Comparative Literature,” given at the second Congress of the International Association of Comparative Literature in Chapel Hill in 1958, seemed to have crystallized the opposition.91It formulated the objections to the factualism of the theories and the practices: its failure to delineate a subject matter and a specific methodology. The paper gave rise to endless polemics and, I am afraid, to endless misunderstandings. Particularly distressing is the attempt to create an issue between a supposed American and a French conception of comparative literature. I was, of course, not arguing against a nation or even a local school of scholars. I was arguing against a method, not for myself or the United States, and not with new and personal arguments; I simply stated what follows from an insight into the totality of literature, that the distinction between comparative and general literature is artificial and that not much can be accomplished by the method of causal explanation except an infinite regress. What I, and many others, advocate is a turning away from the mechanistic, factualistic concepts inherited from the nineteenth century in favor of true criticism. Criticism means a concern for values and qualities, for an understanding of texts which incorporates their historicity and thus requires the history of criticism for such an understanding, and finally, it mean an international perspective which envisages a distant ideal of universal literary history and scholarship. Comparative literature surely wants to overcome national prejudices and provincialisms but does not therefore ignore or minimize the existence and vitality of the different national traditions. We must beware of false and unnecessary choices: we need both national and general literature, we need both literary history and criticism, and we need the wide perspective which only comparative literature can give.
 Henry IV, 1.2.90.
 Elizabethan Critical Essays, ed. Gregory Smith, 2 (2 vols. Oxford, 1904), 314.
 Trans. G. Gregory, 1 (2 vols. London, 1787), 113-14.
 Vol. 1 (2 vols. London, 1774), iv.
 Vol. 1 (2nd ed. 3 vols. London, 1801), 58.
 Letters, ed. G. W. E. Russell, 1 (2 vols. London, 1895), 8.
 In Harper's Magazine, 73 (I 886), 318.
 In The Contemporary Review, 79 (1901), 870.
 Experiments in Education (Ithaca, N.Y., 1942), p. 75.
 Tatler, No. 197 (July 13, 1710).
 Life of Samuel Johnson, ed. G. B. Hill, rev. L. F. Powell, 1 (6 vols. Oxford, 1934), 302.
 Eduard Wöfflin, in Zeitschrift für lateinische Lexikographie, 5(1888) ,49.
 Ed. René Groos, 2 (2 vols. Paris, 1947), 113: "Mais, dans l'éloquence, dans la poésie, dans la littérature, dans les livres de morale et d'agrément." Cf. 2, 132, 145.
 Reviewed by Herder, in his Sämtliche Werke, ed. Suphan, 1(33 vols. Berlin, 1877), 123.
 Turin, 1760; Paris, 1776; Glasgow, 1771. 1784. The connection with Glasgow is due to the fact that Denina knew Lady Elizabeth Mackenzie, the daughter of the Duke of Argyle, when her husband was the British Minister at Turin.
 P. 6: "Non parleremo… dei progessi delle scienze e delle arti, che propriamente non sono parte di letteratura… al buon gusto, ed alla eloquenza, vale a dire alla letteratura."
 Naples, 1779: Lucca, 1784.
 Ludwig Wachler, Vorlesungen über die Geschichte der teut- schen Nationallitteratur (1818; 2nd ed. 1834): A. Koberstein, Grundriss der Geschichte der deutschen Nationallitteratur (1827); Georg Gottfried Gervinus, Geschichte der poetischen Nationalliteratur der Deutschen (5 vols. 1835--42); A. Vilmar, Vorlesungen iiber die Geschichte der deutschen Nationalliteratur (1845); R. Gottschall, Die deutsche Nationalliteratur des 19. Jahrhunderts (1881). This term seems to have later disappeared, though note G. Könnecke, Bilderatlas zur Geschichte der deutschen Nationalliteratur (1886).
 Etudes sur l'antiquité (Paris, 1846), p. 28: "J'ai peu d'estime pour le mot littérature. Ce mot me parait dénué de sens; il est éclos d'une dépravation intellectuelle"; p. 30: "quelque chose qui n'est ni la Philosophie, ni l'Histoire, ni l'Erudition, ni la Critique; ─je ne sais quoi de vague, d'insaisissable et d'élastique.”
 Critical Reflections on the Old English Dramatick Writers. Extracted from a Prefatory Discourse to the New Edition of Massinger's Works (London, 1761).
 Dr. Johnson's Letter to the Rev. Dr. Horne, April 30, 1774, in Catalogue of the Johnsonian Collection of R. B. Adams (Buffalo, 1921).
 James Beattie, Dissertations, Moral and Critical (London, 1783), p. 518.
 On Dale see D. J. Palmer, The Rise of English Studies (London, 1965), pp. 18 ff.
 London, 1873. See The Unity of History (Cambridge, England,1872), praising the comparative method as "a stage at least as great and memorable as the revival of Greek and Latin learning."
 Not published till 1819. In Oeuvres, ed. Moland, 19 (52 vols. Paris, 1877-85), 590-92: "Une connaissance des ouvrages de goût, une teinture d'histoire, de poésie, d'éloquence, de critique . . aux objets qui ont de la beauté, à la poésie, à l'histoire bien écrite."
 Eléments, 2 (Paris, 1856 reprint), 335: "La littérature est la connaissance des belles-lettres …avec de l'esprit, du talent et du goût, il peut produire des ouvrages ingénieux, sans aucune érudition, et avec peu de littérature."
 The Bibliothèque Nationale lists Leçons, franaises de littérature et de morale (2 vols., 1816) and Leçons. latines de littérature et de morale (2 vols., 1816). Leçons anglasies de littérature et de morale (2 vols., 1817-19) has another coauthor, Mr. Chapsal.
 Paris, p. 149.
 New ed. 4 vols. Paris, 1873, 1, 2, 24; 2, 45; 1,225.
 New ed. 2 vols. Paris, 1875, 1, 187; 1, 1.
 Second series, 13 (1835), ii, 238-62. In revised version introducing Etudes sur l'antiquité (1840), Chasles does not use the term. See Claude Pichois, Philarète Chasles et la vie littéraire au temps du romantisme, 1 (2 vols. Paris, 1965), 483.
 Originally Marseille, 1830; reprinted in Mélanges d'histoire littéraire, 1 (2 vols. Paris 1867), 3.
 Reprinted in Nouveaux Lundis, 13 (13 vols. Paris, 1870), 183 ff.
 Sämtliche Werke, Jubiläumsausgabe, 39 (40 vols. Stuttgart, 1902-07), 137 ff.
 Of Bernhardi's Sprachlehre, in Sämtliche Werke, ed. Böcking, 12, 152.
 Sämtliche Werke, 8 (15 vols. 2d ed. Vienna, 1846), 291, 318.
 In a section entitled: "Grundzüige und Winke zur vergleichenden Literaturgeschichte des Dramas." A new edition (Leipzig, 1884) is renamed: Die Poesie: Ihr Wesen und ihre Formen mit Grundzügen der vergleichenden Literaturgeschichte.
 See Á. Berczik, "Eine ungarische Konzeption der Weltliteratur (Hugo von Meltzls vergleichende Literaturtheorie)," Acta Literaria Academiae Scientiarum Hungaricae, 5 (1962), 287-93.
 The chair was created in 1861 and reserved for the German poet Georg Herwegh, who never occupied it.
 Sobranie sochinenii 1 (8 vols. St. Petersburg, 1913), 18-29.Veselovsky uses the term sravnitelnoe izuchenie (comparative study) as early as 1868; see ibid., 16, 1.
 "Übet die Hauptperioden in der Geschichte der Dichtkunst," Gothaisches Magazin der Kiinste und Wissenschaften. 1 (1776), 21 ff.,199 ff.; a review of Albert Lacroix, Histoire de l'influence de Shakespeare sur le théâtre français, in Jahrbuch für romanische und englische Literatur, 1 (1859), 3.
 See above, n. 22.
 Goethe, Werke, Jubiläumsausgabe, 38, 97, 137, 170, 278. Cf. discussion and collection of passages in Fritz Strich, Goethe und die Weltliteratur (Bern, 1946), pp. 393--400.
 Werke, Jubiläumsausgabe, 3. 243. Cf. p. 373 for title.
 Cf. Else Bell, Zur Entwicklung des Begrirffs der Weltliteratur(Leipzig, 1915); J. C. Brandt Corstius, "De Ontwikkeling van het wereldliteratuur," De Vlaamse Gids, 41 (1957), 582-600; Helmut Bender and Ulrich Melzer, "Zur Geschichte des Begriffes 'Weltliteratur'," Saectcuum, 9 (I 958), 113-22.
 La Littérature comparée (Paris 1931), p. 57: "L'object de la littérature comparée est essentiellement d'étudier les œeuvres des diverses littdratures dans leurs rapports les unes avec les autres."
 La Littérature comparée (Paris, 1951), p. 7: “I’histoire des relations littéraires internationales."
 Ibid. p. 5: "Une branche de l'histoire littéraire; elle est l'étude des relations spirituelles internationales, des rapports de fait qui ont existé entre Byron et Pouchkine, Goethe et Carlyle, Walter Scott et Vigny, entre les œuvres, les inspirations, voire les vies d'écrivains appartenant à plusieurs littératures."
 Problemi ed orientamenti: Notizie introduttive (Milano, 1948), p. 430: "Una scienza moderna rivolta appunto ad indagare i problemi connessi cogli influssi esercitati reciprocamente dalle varie Ietterature."
 "Littérature comparée: Le Mot et la chose," Revue de littérature comparée, 1 (1921), 1-29; p. 7: "Une rencontre réelle… crée une dépendance."
 Van Tieghem, La Littérature comparée, p. 170: "rapports binaires—entre deux é1éments seulement"; p. 174:“les faits communs à plusieurs litératures.”
 Comparative Literature: Method and Perspective, ed. Newton P. Stallknecht and Horst Frenz (Carbondale, III. 1961), p. 3.
 Charles Mills Gayley and Fred Newton Scott, An Introduction to tile Methods and Materials of Literary Criticism (Boston, 1899): p. 248, summarizing Posnett.
 H. M. Posnett, Comparative Literature (London, 1886), p. 86
 "The Impact of Nationalism and Cosmopolitism on Comparative Literature from the 1880's to the Post World War II Period," Proceedings of the Fourth Congress of the International Comparative Literature Association (The Hague, 1966), p. 391.
 The Rise o/English Literary History (Chapel Hill, 1941; new ed. New York, 1966).
 On Longinus, see Allan H. Gilbert, Literary Criticism: Plato to Dryden (New York, 1940), pp. 157, 162.
 From J. W. H. Atkins, Literary Criticism in Antiquity, 2 (London, 1924), 187, 331. The treatise on Philoctetes is ascribed to either Dio of Prusa (A.D. 40-120) or Dio Chrysostomos.
 Geneva, 1561, Bk.V.
 Recherches de la France, 7 (Paris, 1643), xi.
 See above, n. 2.
 Elizabethan Critical Essays, 2,359, 372.
 Works, ed. I. Spedding, Ellis et al., 3 (14 vols. London, 1857), 329.
 Ibid., 1, 502-504.
 Cf. Ewald Flügel, "Bacon's Historia Literaria," Anglia, 21 (1899), 259-88.
 I have seen the Leipzig and Frankfurt 1710 edition. After the passage from Bacon he prints similar statements from Christopher Mylius, De scribenda universitatis historia, and from G. I. Vossius De philologia.
 See Giovanni Getto, Storia delIe storie letterarie (Milano, 1942), and my Rise of English Literary History for comments on Warton.
 Ed. H. R. Jauss (Munich, 1964), e.g. pp. 256 ff., 269 ff., 279.
 Cf. my Rise of English Literary History, pp. 139, 180 ff.
 Cf. my History of Modern Criticism, 1 (4 vols. New Haven, 1955), 131-32.
 See Paul Oskar Kristeller, "The Modern System of the Arts,"in Renaissance Thought, 2 (3 vols. New York, 1965), 163-227.
 On aesthetics and taste see, besides general histories of aesthetics, Alfred Bäumler, Kants Kritik der Urteilskraft, 1 (Halle, 1923), and J. E. Spingarn's introduction to Critical Essays of the Seventeenth Century, 1 (3 vols. Oxford, 1908).
 Sämtliche Werke, 1,294: "Den Ursprung, das Wachstum, die Veränderungen und den Fall derselben nebst dem verschiedenen Stil der Gegenden, Zeiten und Dichter lehren."
 Ibid., p. 266: "Scythen und Slaven, Wenden und Böhmen, Russen, Schweden und Polen."
 Lessings Geist aus seinen Schriften, 1 (3 vols. 1804), 13: "ein grosses, durchaus zusarnmenhängendes und gleich organisirtes, in ihrer Einheit viele Kunstwelten umfassendes Ganzes und einiges Kunstwerk."
 Sämtliche Werke, 1, 11: "Der Inbegriff aller intellectuellen Fähigkeiten und Hervorbringungen einer Nation."
 Vorlesungen über schöne Literatur und Kunst, ed. Jakob Minor (Stuttgart, 1884).
 Josef Körner, Die Botschaft der deutschen Romantik an Europa (Augsburg, 1929).
 Works, Centenary ed. (London, 1896-99); Essays, 2, 341—42 Unfinished History o/German Literature, ed. Hill Shine (Lexington, Ky., 1951), p. 6.
 Histoire de la littérature anglaise, 1 (2nd ed. 5 vols. Paris, 1866), xvii: “Si elles fournissent des documents, c'est qu'elles sont des monuments.”
 See my History o/Modern Criticism, 2,283 ff.
 Reprinted in Warton, History of English Poetry, ed. W. C.Hazlitt, 1 (4 vols. London, 1871), 32-33.
 Paris, 1890, p. 297: "L'étude comparée des littératures"; p. 296: "le grand instrument de la critique."
 Cf. my "The Concept of Evolution in Literary History" (19563, in Concepts of Criticism (New Haven, 1963), pp. 37-53.
 See Christian Belger, Moriz Haupt als akademischer Lehrer (Berlin, 1879), p. 323, for review in 1835. See also W. Scherer, Kleine Schriften, ed. K. Burdach and E. Schmidt, 1 (2 vols. Berlin, 1893), 120, 123 130.
 On Scherer, particularly his Poetik (1888), see my History of Modern Criticism, 4 (1965), 97 ff.
 On Veselovsky, see ibid., pp. 278-80, and V. Zhirmunsky Introduction to Istoricheskaya poetika (Leningrad, 1940).
 See my History, 4, 400-07. Cf. Symonds' "On the Application of Evolutionary Principles to Art and Literature," in Essays Speculative and Suggestive, 1 (2 vols. London, 1890), 52-83.
 "La Littérature européenne," Annales internationales d'histoire, Congrès de Paris 1900, 6 (Paris, 1901), 5-28; "Résumé de l'allocution de M. Gaston Paris," ibid., pp. 39-41.
 Reprinted in my Concepts of Criticism, pp. 282-95.
 Some of these are discussed in my "Comparative Literature today," Comparative Literature 17 (1