SWINBURNE'S TRAGEDIES. 215 



" Atalanta in Calydon " shows that poverty of thought 

 and profusion of imagery which are at once the defect 

 and the compensation of all youthful poetry, even of 

 Shakespeare's. It seems a paradox to say that there 

 can be too much poetry in a poem, and yet this is a 

 fault with which all poets begin, and which some never 

 get over. But " Atalanta " is hopefully distinguished, 

 in a rather remarkable way, from most early attempts, 

 by a sense of form and proportion, which, if seconded by 

 a seasonable ripening of other faculties, as we may fair 

 ly expect, gives promise of rare achievement hereafter. 

 Mr. Swinburne's power of assimilating style, which is, 

 perhaps, not so auspicious a symptom, strikes us as 

 something marvellous. The argument of his poem, in 

 its quaint archaism, would not need the change of a 

 word or in the order of a period to have been foisted on 

 Sir Thomas Malory as his own composition. The choos 

 ing a theme which ^Eschylus had handled in one of his 

 lost tragedies is justified by a certain ^Eschylean flavor 

 in the treatment. The opening, without deserving to be 

 called a mere imitation, recalls that of the "Agamemnon," 

 and the chorus has often an imaginative lift in it, an 

 ethereal charm of phrase, of which it is the highest 

 praise to say that it reminds us of him who soars over 

 the other Greek tragedians like an eagle. 



But in spite of many merits, we cannot help asking 

 ourselves, as we close the book, whether "Atalanta" can 

 be called a success, and if so, whether it be a success in 

 the right direction. The poem reopens a question which 

 in some sort touches the very life of modern literature. 

 We do not mean to renew the old quarrel of Fontenelle's 

 day as to the comparative merits of ancients and mod 

 erns. That is an affair of taste, which does not admit 

 of any authoritative settlement. Our concern is about 

 a principle which certainly demands a fuller discussion, 



