conduct of the poem, or allow it to dilate and absorb
larger matter, according as the narrow primitive torrents of man's
spirit broaden into the greater but slower volume of civilized life. The
change is neither desirable nor undesirable; it is merely inevitable. It
means that epic poetry has kept up with the development of human life.

It is because of all this that we have heard a good deal about the
"authentic" epic getting "closer to its subject" than "literary" epic.
It seems, on the face of it, very improbable that there should be any
real difference here. No great poetry, of whatever kind, is conceivable
unless the subject has become integrated with the poet's mind and mood.
Milton is as close to his subject, Virgil to his, as Homer to Achilles
or the Saxon poet to Beowulf. What is really meant can be nothing but
the greater insistence of racial tradition in the "authentic" epics. The
subject of the _Iliad_ is the fighting of heroes, with all its
implications and consequences; the subject of the _Odyssey_ is adventure
and its opposite, the longing for safety and home; in _Beowulf_ it is
kingship--the ability to show man how to conquer the monstrous forces of
his world; and so on. Such were the subjects which an imperious racial
tradition pressed on the early epic poet, who delighted to be so
governed. These were the matters which his people could understand, of
which they could easily perceive the significance. For him, then, there
could be no other matters than these, or the like of these. But it is
not in such matters that a poet living in a time of less primitive and
more expanded consciousness would find the highest importance. For a
Roman, the chief matter for an epic poem would be Roman civilization;
for a Puritan, it would be the relations of God and man. When,
therefore, we consider how close to his subject an epic poet is, we must
be careful to be quite clear what his subject is. And if he has gone
beyond the immediate experiences of primitive society, we need not
expect him to be as close as the early poets were to the fury of battle
and the agony of wounds and the desolation of widows; or to the
sensation of exploring beyond the familiar regions; or to the
marsh-fiends and fire-drakes into which primitive imagination naturally
translated the terrible unknown powers of the world. We need not, in a
word, expect the "literary" epic to compete with the "authentic" epic;
for the fact is, that the purpose of