he drama, and for the sake of
these we wish to see the real original 'Prometheus'--not according to
any man's notion of improvement, but such as came from a sublime Grecian
poet, such as satisfied a Grecian audience, more than two thousand years
ago. We wish, in fact, for the real AEschylus, 'unhousel'd, unaneal'd,'
with all his imperfections on his head.

Such was the way, and the just way, of arguing the point when the
application was limited to a great authentic classic of the Antique; nor
was the case at all different where Ariosto or any other illustrious
Italian classic was concerned. But a new sort of casuistry in this
question has arisen in our own times, and by accident chiefly in
connection with German literature; but it may well be, Dr. North, that
you will be more diverted by a careful scrutiny of my metres after Voss
in illustration, than by any further dissertation on my part on a
subject that you know so well.

Believe me,
Always yours admiringly,
X. Y. Z.

_The Parson's Dinner._

In the month of leafy June, beneath celestial azure
Of skies all cloudless, sate the aged Rector of Esthwaite
Dining amidst his household; but not the meridian ardour
Of sunbeams fierce he felt; him the shady veranda
With vine-clad trellis defends: beyond a pendulous awning
Of boughs self-wreath'd from limes (whose mighty limbs overarching
Spanned the low roof of the house) spreads far effectual umbrage
For young and old alike; noontide awfully breathless
Settled in deepest silence on the woods and valley of Esthwaite.
Yet not the less there would rise, after stillest interval often, 10
Low whispering gales that stole, like sobbing murmur of infant
Dreaming in arms maternal, into the heart o' the youngest:
Gales that at most could raise a single ringlet of auburn
As it pencill'd the noble brow of the youthful Anna Louisa--
Sole child that survived to thee, oh, aged pastor of Esthwaite.
Clad in his morning gown, the reverend priest at a table
Of sculptur'd stone was seated; and his seat was a massy but easy
Settle of oak, which in youth his ancient servitor, Isaac,
Footman, sexton, and steward, butler and gardener also,
Carved by the winter fire in nights of gloomy November,
And through many a long, long night of many a dark December. 21
The good man's heart was glad, and his eyes were suffus'd with a
rapture
Of perfect love as they settled on her--that