III.


THE NATURE OF EPIC

Rigid definitions in literature are, however, dangerous. At bottom, it
is what we feel, not what we think, that makes us put certain poems
together and apart from others; and feelings cannot be defined, but only
related. If we define a poem, we say what we think about it; and that
may not sufficiently imply the essential thing the poem does for us.
Hence the definition is liable either to be too strict, or to admit work
which does not properly satisfy the criterion of feeling. It seems
probable that, in the last resort, classification in literature rests on
that least tangible, least definable matter, style; for style is the
sign of the poem's spirit, and it is the spirit that we feel. If we can
get some notion of how those poems, which we call epic, agree with one
another in style, it is likely we shall be as close as may be to a
definition of epic. I use the word "style," of course, in its largest
sense--manner of conception as well as manner of composition.

An easy way to define epic, though not a very profitable way, would be
to say simply, that an epic is a poem which produces feelings similar to
those produced by _Paradise Lost_ or the _Iliad_, _Beowulf_ or the _Song
of Roland_. Indeed, you might include all the epics of Europe in this
definition without losing your breath; for the epic poet is the rarest
kind of artist. And while it is not a simple matter to say off-hand what
it is that is common to all these poems, there seems to be general