with nobler sentiments than the Muses could supply, to sing the praises of that Being whose ineffable perfections transcend all human imagination. Of the praises of gods and heroes, there is not now extant a more beautiful composition, than the 12th Ode of the first book of Horace:
Quem virum aut heroa lyra vel acri
Tibia sumes celebrare, Clio?
Quem Deum? cujus recinet jocosa
Nomen imago,
Aut in umbrosis Heliconis oris, etc.
What man, what hero, on the tuneful lyre,
Or sharp-toned flute, will Clio choose to raise,
Deathless, to fame? What God? whose hallowed name
The sportive image of the voice
Shall in the shades of Helicon repeat, etc.
The Satires of Horace are far from being remarkable for poetical harmony, as he himself acknowledges. Indeed, according to the plan upon which several of them are written, it