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• In any of the cases falling on the right hand of the black waving line, or if both altitudes exceed 50°, the effect of refraction may be had at once by Table III.
“To find the effect of parallax. • Add together the proportional logarithm of the moon's horizontal parallax, the logarithmic cosecant of the star's altitude corrected for refraction, and the logarithmic fine of the distance cleared from refra&tion; the sum, abating 20 from the index, will be the proportional logarithin of a first arc.
• Add together the proportional logarithm of the moon's ho. sizontal parallax, the logarithm cosecant of the moon's altitude corrected for refiaction; the sum abating 20 from the index, will be the proportional logarithm of a second arc.
· Then, if the distance is less than 90°, the difference of these two arcs is the principal effect of parallax (or parallax in distance); which added to or subtracted from the distance corrected for refraction, according as the first arc is less or greater than the second, will give the distance corrected for the principal effect of parallax.
• But if the distance exceeds 90°, the sum of the two arcs is to be taken instead of their difference, and is to be subtracted from the distance corrected for refra&tion.
" In Table IV, in the column marked above with the dirtance, find the two numbers answering to the parallax in diftance and in altitude, their difference is the second correction of parallax in seconds; which, added to or subtracted from the distance corrected for refraction and principal effect of parallax, according as the distance is less or greater than 90°, will give the correct or reduced distance.”
Here follow four exainples, which take up no less than seven pages in their operations, and these are succeeded by ten pages of supplemental tables, whose construction and uses in correcting the corrections already made, are exemplified in nine pages more; then comes the instructions for finding the longitude at sea by help of the Ephemeris ; these, with two examples serving to illustrate their use, fill the last two-and-twenty pages of this treatise.
An ingenious mariner who has been many years used to the sea-service, upon inspecting the Nautical Almanac, made the following remark, with which we shall conclude this article. “That in very long voyages the precepts there delivered Inight probably be of use, with regard to the determination of the longitude ; but, in short trips to sea, he apprehended they would be altogether useless, because the voyage would certainly be ended before the necessary calculations with their proper corrections, &c. could poflibly be made."
I 2 mo.
XIII. Crito, or, Essays on various Subjets. Vol. II. and Lat.
Pr. 25. 6d. Dodfley.
metaphysical ; that is, one part of it is intelligible, and the other unintelligible, we are afraid, even to the author himfelf* ; and were it otherwise, perhaps, (as the French faying is) “ the play would not be worth the candle.” Disquisitions upon the nature of the Godhead, and the origin of good and evil, are in themselves pernicious to society, unless they tend to some particular doctrine for the present, or future, good of mankind. We can almost defy the most fubtle metaphysician to prove, that his and the labours of all his confraternities on those subjects, ever reformed a rake, or converted an atheist.
This writer dedicates his performance to his dear little nonentities of the twentieth century; and his dedication, which forms almost half the contents of the book, is executed with fome humour.
• In the first place, says he, I hope, as all authors do, to be in higher estimation with your worships and ladyships, than with my contemporaries. We great men are but moderately valued in our own times; but this flight is made up to us by posterity. For we live on after we are dead; and the older we grow, we grow the greater. By the time you come upon the stage, Crito will be a fort of little antient; confequently will begin to be a little venerable.
- Besides this, I expect you twentieth-century gentlemen and ladies to be of a more composed way of thinking than my contemporaries; for whom, I assure you, it is not a little difficult to know how to write. The
truth is, ever since our great Political Conjurer (who will be very well known in your age) spirited America over into Germany to be conquered there, we have been so scared by the tremendous sight of that huge continent (credite pofteri!) failing in the air over our heads, that to this day we have not recovered ourselves, so far as to be able to distinguish between a compass-needle and a weathercock, or between a pillar of marble and a broken reed.
It is true, our state-physicians have been fome time in consultation on our case. They are bringing the conftitution to a crisis as fast as they can. The humours ferment vigorously, abundance of corrupt matter digefts; the fymptomatic complaints grow stronger and stronger, and the critical paroxysms will probably be severe. According to dean Swift's doctor, when the patient is fick to death, he is in the moft
* See Crit. Rev, vol. xxii. p. 57.
hopeful way. So much the better for us. The state is fick enough, if that be to her advantage. A nation may, on account of its magnitude, be compared to the Krachen, deseribed by Doétor Pontoppidan, the good bishop of Bergen, to which a whale is but a sprat. It may, therefore, be half a century in its last illness, and twenty years on its death-bed. I hope, that is not yet our good lady Britannia's case. But her recovery, if the should recover, will be a work of time;. as alteratives produce their effect but slowly. I do not, therefore, expect my countrymen, of this nor of the next century, to be in much condition for listening to advice. And if I had den termined not to publish till the time, when I might have expected to be immediately attended to, I must have kept my piece not nine years, according to Horace's prescription ; but perhaps ninety-nine, by which time, I should, if I lived fo long, be of an age not fit for corretting the press. I have therefore determined to discharge my conscience, by seeing this second and last volume of my inestimable work fairly ushered into the world : and humbly beg your gracious reception of it, when you come to have hands to receive it.
• I have observed above, that we are hastening matters to a crisis, which may chance to prove falutary to the constitution. Now I must be sincere enough to own, that, though our driving things to an extremity may eventually prove to your advantage ; if you contrive to walk into the world, just as the troubles, we are raising, come to be settled; I must own, I fay, that we have yet no great claim to your gratitude on this account. For it is well known, we have had no eye to you in what we have been carrying on for these last fifty years. We not only hold you to be at present nothing, as above obferved
; but, one would imagine, by our way of providing for you, we concluded you never would be any thing.
• Nor indeed can I pretend, that we deserve much approbation on account of our prudence for ourselves, in conducting our reformation scheme. For it might, in my humble opinion, be to the full as judicious to go to work deliberately, and to rectify what is amiss, article by article, as to heap expedient upon expedient, blunder upon blunder, and mischief upon mischief, till all is in a ferment. As if we expected in the manner of the refiners, who throw a quantity of ore into the furnace, and are certain of the metal's coming out pure by, and by) that order must of course proceed from confusion, and a happy establishment grow of itself out of the chaos we have been jumbling together.
• I appeal therefore to you from my contemporaries, who have it not in their power to oblige me in any, but one way, viz. giving me the pleasure of doing them good, and who grudge
me that pleasure. It is true, I am not the only author, who complain, that the people of this age are too wise for advice. There have been many writings published of late, incomparably more deserving of the general attention, than any thing within the reach of my mediocrity, which have produced no material good effe&t. Some of us, your' worthy predecessors, have read and thaken our wise noddles over them, saying, “ Why yes, as you say, Mr. Author, these are undoubtedly bad things. But it is impossible to reform them.” As if there had never been, in the whole history of mankind, an instance of any one particular amended, that once went wrong. Thus we treat all manner of proposals for realifying what is amiís, either in the conftitution of church or state, or in our own private conduct. And when, at any tiine, we are told by an honest and blunt writer, of somewhat grossly scandalous, but profitable to some individuals, which ought, for the sake of common decency and common sense, to have been amended fifty years ago, we jog one another, and agree to confute that impertinent writer by filence. We cast a flur upon the book, as a mean performance; or on the subject, as exhausted. And the good-natured peo, ple, who implicitly follow their leaders, do not know what is a mean performance, or what the contrary; nor consider that the subject of grievances is never exhausted, while the grievances continue. Thus the honest writer's good advice is neglected, and the evil remains un-cured, as much as if-it were really incurable. Now this conduct shews how we have improved on the fagacity of our forefathers; tiine was, when people were ashamed of being publicly branded; and it was thought neceffary to answer a writer, who presumed to insinuate, that governors, either in church or state, were culpable. What was the consequence? Why, a controversy was set on foot : Matters were thoroughly examined : Truth came out: The
eyes ple were opened : Knavish statesmen and churchmen were foiled at fair argument, and the wings of tyranny and priestcraft were clipped. How much wiser we; who walk off, as quietly as so many cowards after a kicking ; and never make one wry face ! Populus me fibilat: at mibi plaudo. If we have not the empty praise, we have the folid pudding.
6 At the same time, I cannot deny, that there are more buyers of books in this age, than in any former. But this is no argument, that we are at all the better for the books, we buy. No nation pays so magnificently for the performance of music, vocal and instrumental (if the frittering noise, we are now-a-days regaled with at operas and concerts, may be called mufic) than the English. Yet it is notorious, that no people on earth have so little natural genius to music, as the South-Britons. The case is the same with books, as with music; we lay out 4
of the peo
money in both, not because we want them, but because we are rich, and must lay out our money in somewhat.”
Our author recommences his metaphysical (or whatever the reader pleases to call them) disquisitions by a fourth essay, which he seems to have composed upon the principles of that very ingenious game called puzzle ; witness the following quotation, which, so far as we can unpuzzle matter, may stand as detached from his general reasoning (if we may be allowed that expreffion) :
* There is no neceflity, in the present deduction, for making it a question, Whether the greatest happiness is the natural consequence of the greatest virtue? Whether this be granted, or denied, the necessity of the Creator's proposing to replenish his universe with moral agents will remain the same, as arising from the Divine nature, which, being moral, rendered it impoflible, that the Creator should not propose to produce moral agents, with the fingle and ultimate view of their becoming like to bimself in that which is his greatest glory, viz. moral rectitude. Yet no one can, I think, have any doubt, concerning the necessary connexion, in the nature of things, between virtue and happiness. But this we have at present no concern with. All I would urge is, That the Creator, being himself a moral agent, and his moral character being his supreme excellence, he could not but propose to create moral agents, as such, exclusive of the consequences respecting their happiness. Because, whatever their bappiness should eventually prove to be, their merit must, if they behaved well, come to be great ; and if they should even have partly failed of happiness (which yet could not happen) they might attain what is more important, viz. moral rectitude of disposition.
* To say, that any scheme must of course have appeared to the Creator the best, which produced the greatest happiness, merely because it produced the greatest happiness, would be saying, That the supreme Being looks on happiness as of greater consequence than rectitude. But this is so far from being a right. state of the case, that it is certain, every good man (the goodnefs.of men, is, God knows, inoderate enough) would choose rather to be more virtuous, and less happy, than more happy, and less virtuous, (a man is, in fact, more or less virtuous, according as he more or less fincerely loves virtue for its own fake) much more would an angel choose in the same manner; and most of all would He, whose rectitude is absolutely perfect, choose rather to see his universe filled with fupremely virtuous, though less happy beings, than with superlatively happy, but leis virtuous beings, were this poslible.'