THE CONCLUSION: COMPREHENDING A RETROSPECT OF THE LIFE OF DAVID RITTENHOUSE,

WITH

A DELINEATION OF HIS CHARACTER.

“It has been the fashion of late years,” says his eloquent Eulogist,^[302] “to say of persons who had been distinguished in life,—when they left the world in a state of indifference to every thing, and believing and hoping in nothing,—that they died like Philosophers.” Rittenhouse did not, indeed, die like a disciple of that new philosophy, referred to by the Eulogist,—like some of those modern pretenders to illumination, who have been struggling to resuscitate all the maddening dreams and absurdities of the Pyrrhonists of old: His last hours were similar to those, which graced the departure from the world, of a Newton and a Boyle, with very many illustrious Christians besides, who truly deserved the name of Philosophers;—for, “he died like a Christian, interested in the welfare of 448all around him—believing in the resurrection, and the life to come, and hoping for happiness from every attribute of the Deity.”^[303]

By his last will and testament, which was not executed till the day preceding his death, Dr. Rittenhouse disposed of his estate in a very equitable manner, between Mrs. Rittenhouse and his two daughters, besides making a liberal provision for an amiable widowed sister, so long as she should live.

It appears, from an estimate of his estate made by himself, (and supposed to have been drawn up about a year 449before his death,) that all the property he ever acquired, independently of his patrimony, which he valued at one thousand pounds, actually cost him only 13,525l.:^[304] and the whole of his estate was estimated, at the time of his decease, at scarcely twenty thousand pounds. When it is considered, that the talents of this very extraordinary man were actively and industriously employed more than forty years, from the time he attained to manhood, during many years of which period, he was engaged in various public occupations, and some of them lucrative; that he was prudent and exact in all his transactions, private as well as public, and economical in his domestic expenditures; and that his family was small;—when all these considerations are taken into view, they furnish matter of surprize that he should not have accumulated a larger fortune! Indeed the moderate amount of the estate he left, affords reasonable grounds for supposing, that he devoted more of his property to purposes of beneficence, than the world had any opportunity of becoming acquainted with.

Dr. Rittenhouse survived both his sons-in-law; and their widows^[305] are his only remaining children. He 450constituted these daughters, with Mrs. Rittenhouse, the executrices of his will.

The remains of our philosopher were deposited, agreeably to a desire he had expressed long before his death, beneath the pavement within the small Observatory which he erected many years before, in the garden adjoining his house; and over the body was placed a plain slab of marble, inscribed only with his name, the time of his decease, and his age. Although 451it was intended that his interment should be attended by his family-connexions alone,—in consequence of which, no other persons were asked to the funeral,—a numerous body of his friends voluntarily presented themselves on the occasion, as a mark of their respect for his memory. The Rev. Dr. Green was one of the number; and this clergyman, being then the pastor of the congregation in which the deceased had often attended divine worship in the latter years of his life, delivered a short but appropriate address to a surrounding auditory of mourning and afflicted friends.—“This,” began the reverend orator, pointing to the tomb of our philosopher, as just described,—“This is, emphatically, the Tomb of Genius and of Science! Their child, their martyr, is here deposited,—and their friends will make his Eulogy, in tears. I stand not here, to pronounce it; the thought that engrosses my mind, is this;—how much more clear and impressive must be the views, which the late Spiritual Inhabitant of that lifeless corpse now possesses of God,—of his infinite existence, of his adorable attributes and of that eternal blaze of glory which emanates from Him,—than when she was blinded by her veil of flesh! Accustomed, as she was, to penetrate far into the universe,—far as corporeal or mental vision here can reach,—still, what new and extensive scenes of wonder have opened on her eyes, enlightened and invigorated by death! The Discoveries of Rittenhouse, since he died, have already been more, and greater, 452than while he lived.^[306] Yes; and, could he address us from the spiritual world, his language would be—

“All, all on Earth is shadow, all Beyond

Is substance; the reverse is folly’s creed.”

Proceeding with a fervid expression of many excellent and pious sentiments, excited by the occasion and well adapted to it, the orator thus concluded:—“Filled with these reflections, let us go from this Tomb, and resolve to aim at the high destiny of our nature. Rightly aiming at this, we shall fill up life with usefulness and duty; we shall bear its burdens with patience; and we shall look forward to its close with pleasure: we shall consider death but as the birth of a new and 453nobler existence,—as a dark but short passage to the regions of eternal day; and, in the very agony of our change, we may exclaim in triumph,—‘O Death, where is thy Sting! O Grave where is thy Victory!’—Thanks be to God! who giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Dr. Rittenhouse was, in his stature, somewhat tall; in his person, slender and straight; and although his constitution was delicate, his bodily frame did not appear to have been, originally, weak: his gait was somewhat quick, and his movements in general were lively; insomuch, that it is probable he possessed a good deal of corporeal activity, in early life.

His face was of an oval form; his complexion, fair; and his hair, which in his latter years became thinned and whitened, was brown. All his features were good: his forehead was high, capacious and smooth; his eyes, which were of a greyish colour, were alike expressive of animation, reflection and good nature, and well placed under full, arched brows; his nose was large, handsome, and inclined to the aquiline; his mouth, well-formed, though a little prominent, and corresponding with the general character of the face; and his chin, broad and strong. In short, his whole countenance was indicative of intelligence, complacency and goodness, even after its characteristic marks had been in some degree impaired by sickness and years. Dr. Rush observes, that his countenance was too remarkable 454to be unnoticed. “It displayed,” says the Doctor, “such a mixture of contemplation, benignity, and innocence, that it was easy to distinguish his person in the largest company, by a previous knowledge of his character.”^[307] Such were, upon the whole, the figure and appearance of David Rittenhouse; but more particularly, in his earlier life: and, as thus described, he was generally considered an handsome man.

Many indications of the respect and esteem entertained for the memory of this distinguished man, appeared soon after his death: among others may be mentioned the following.

Mr. Adet, then minister plenipotentiary from “The French Republic” to the United States, and resident in Philadelphia, addressed a letter on the subject of Dr. Rittenhouse, under the date of “19th Messidor, the 4th year of the French Republic” (answering to the 7th of July, 1806, of the Christian Calendar,) to the writer of these Memoirs. This gentleman—who was represented to be a man of considerable attainments in science, and was besides a member of the American Philosophical Society, professed, in that letter, a great desire to make the name of Rittenhouse known in his country,—for so he expressed himself; meaning, for that purpose, (as he said,) to transmit “to the National Institute of France an historical notice 455of his life and labours.” With this view, he accompanied his letter with a list of queries (twenty-five in number,) requesting the Memorialist to furnish answers to them; which was accordingly done, in a succinct manner: but whether the information the answers contained was ever applied to the purpose for which the querist stated them to be designed, the answerer has never ascertained. He will, however, conclude his observations on this part of his subject, with barely remarking, that the last of the proposed queries is in these words——“How did he bear the approaches of death?—did he die like a Philosopher?”

It is a matter of general notoriety, that Thomas Jefferson, Esq. of Virginia, (late President of the United States,) succeeded Dr. Rittenhouse in the Presidency of the American Philosophical Society; having been first elected to that station on the 6th of January, 1797, while he officiated as Secretary of State, and during his residence in Philadelphia. Of this appointment, Mr. Jefferson was duly notified, by a letter addressed to him by the Secretaries, in behalf of the society: and, in his reply to that communication, the president-elect paid a just tribute of respect to the character of his great and virtuous predecessor, in these concise terms:—“Permit me to avail myself of this opportunity of expressing the sincere grief I feel, for the loss of our beloved Rittenhouse. Genius, science, modesty, purity of morals, simplicity of manners, marked him as one of nature’s best samples of 456the perfection she can cover under the human form. Surely no society, till ours, within the same compass of time,^[308] ever had to deplore the loss of two such members as Franklin and Rittenhouse.”

In England, the talents of Dr. Rittenhouse were well known, and his worth duly appreciated. Of this, no better evidence can be required, than the spontaneous admission of him, by the Royal Society of London, into a Fellowship of their illustrious body. But, as a further proof of the high respect in which his character was held in that country, the obituary notice of him, which appeared in the European Magazine, (a periodical work of merit and taste,) for July, 1796, is inserted in the Appendix.

Besides other evidences which appeared, soon after the decease of our most distinguished philosopher, demonstrate the high estimation in which his character was held, by some eminent men in official stations, several private gentlemen of worth and erudition, have, long since, continued to manifest a laudable disposition either to erect, or to institute, some respectable and suitable memorial in honour of his name: and it can scarcely be doubted, that a grateful sense of his exemplary 457virtues, his transcendent talents and important public services, will yet effect the accomplishment of some such patriotic design. An honourable effort of this kind by a number of liberal and public spirited gentlemen of the county of Chester, in Pennsylvania, has recently been made: and notwithstanding the failure of the attempt, it is due to the merit of those individuals who were most zealous in their endeavours to accomplish the object, to notice their benevolent intentions on the occasion. In the autumn of the year 1811, the sum of nearly eight thousand dollars was subscribed, towards the purpose of erecting and endowing an Academy within the borough of West-Chester. Doctor William Darlington, with some other friends of literature and science in his neighbourhood, proposed to name the designed institution “The Rittenhouse Academy:” but as the establishment of a similar one, in a distant part of the same county, was at the same time contemplated; and, as the subscriptions to that proposed to be established in West-Chester, were, in the first instance, chiefly obtained in different parts of the county, for an institution then proposed to be called “The West-Chester Academy”—thus locating its situation exclusively to that borough; it was not deemed expedient to vary the chartered name of this Academy, when it should be incorporated, from the one by which it was originally designated.

458Such were the causes of the disappointment, in relation to the proposed Rittenhouse Academy: but they are evidently such as cannot in the smallest degree detract from the meritorious intentions of those gentlemen, who were desirous of giving the institution, in West-Chester, that respectable name; nor are they less indicative of the respect which was intended to be shewn to the memory of Rittenhouse.

In addition, however, to the evidence which has been tendered by others to the exalted merits of our Philosopher, the memorialist is happy in having an opportunity to introduce, on this occasion, the testimony of a gentleman who was very long and intimately acquainted with Dr. Rittenhouse—and, consequently, well knew his worth as a man. This representation being likewise made by a person whose conspicuous attainments in similar departments of science, and arduous employments in practical pursuits of the same description, render him eminently qualified to judge of his deceased friend’s talents, he is by these means enabled to form a just estimate of his character. The person here referred to, is Andrew Ellicott, Esq. a gentleman with whom the writer of these Memoirs has been in habits of intimacy and friendship, many years. The information on this subject, communicated by Mr. Ellicott, being in the form of a letter addressed to the memorialist, he has given that communication a place in the Appendix.

459That Dr. Rittenhouse had failings, cannot be questioned; since, to possess them, is the lot of every individual of our species. But his foibles—of whatever description they may have been—may be compared to some opaque spots, minute in size, which the prying eye of the astronomer has discovered to exist even on the glorious orb of the Sun; although these little maculæ are scarcely discernible by the generality of observers, by reason of the surrounding splendour of his beams: so, the diminutive failings which may be supposed to have existed in the character of our philosophical luminary, were rendered almost imperceptible, by the resplendency in which his great and numerous virtues were enveloped. It was said of that sublime artist, Sir Joshua Reynolds, by the late celebrated Edmund Burke, that he did “not know a fault or weakness of his, that he did not convert into something that bordered on a virtue, instead of pushing it to the confines of a vice.”^[309] Dr. Rittenhouse, in like manner, was perfectly uncontaminated by any vice; while “his virtues furnish the most shining models for imitation:” and, in regard even to his foibles, the declaration of his Eulogist, just quoted, that his virtues “were never obscured, in any situation or stage of his life, by a single cloud of weakness or vice,”^[310] may be fairly received in the same liberal sense, as 460Mr. Burke’s expression concerning his worthy friend, Reynolds.

If a retrospect be now taken of the whole Life of our Philosopher, in whatever points of view it may be contemplated, the following characteristic traits will be found to be faithfully delineated; although it is at the same time acknowledged, that the portrait is still too incomplete to afford a perfect resemblance to the excellent character of the original.

In his temper, Dr. Rittenhouse was naturally placid and good-humoured; yet sometimes grave, and inclined to pensiveness. He was occasionally, though seldom, animated by a considerable degree of warmth: but he did not suffer himself to be influenced, on any occasion, by impetuous passions; nor did any man ever possess a temper more placable. His general deportment was gentle, unassuming and cheerful; such as corresponded with his modesty of disposition and the delicacy of his feelings.^[311] He possessed a good share of constitutional firmness of mind; and was seldom either much or long depressed, by such misfortunes or afflictions as bore chiefly upon himself: still, however, the great benevolence of his temper rendered him extremely sensible to the sufferings of others. The 461bodily infirmities of such as came within his more immediate notice, and the privations occasioned by helpless indigence, more especially of aged persons, often experienced in him a consoling friend and a liberal benefactor; provided they appeared to be objects worthy of charitable assistance. But where the sufferings or wants of others evidently resulted either from confirmed inebriety or other vicious habits, or from indolence or censurable improvidence, he was not accustomed to extend the hand of charitable bounty with the same cordiality. His means of affording pecuniary assistance to such of his fellow-men as needed it, were circumscribed by bounds of moderate extent: yet, in proportion to his resources, his acts of charity were laudable in their degree, as well as in regard to the objects of his benevolence, and entirely destitute of ostentation: they were dictated both by the humanity of his heart and a sense of moral duty.

Notwithstanding the predominating mildness of his disposition, he was capable of being roused on some occasions, to pretty strong emotions of indignation; and nothing would excite these feelings in his mind more readily, or in a higher degree, than instances of great cruelty, oppression or injustice, whether of a public or private nature.^[312]

462His long continued habits of contemplation and study, and his seclusion from the busy world until the full meridian of life, created in his mind a fondness for tranquillity. This disposition, co-operating with his humanity and love of justice, made him a friend to peace; insomuch, that he deprecated a state of warfare, even in cases attended by colourable pretexts of right and expediency, for engaging in it. Hence, he could not refrain from attaching to the late warlike Sovereign of Prussia, “the mighty Frederick,” the appellation of “Tyrant of the North and Scourge of Mankind;”^[313] believing, as he did, that this monarch was more influenced by an unfeeling personal ambition and thirst of military fame, than either by the justness of his cause or a desire to promote the happiness of his subjects.

With such feelings and such views of the subject as these, our Philosopher could not consider that as a justifiable cause of war, which has not for its object, either the defence of a country against an hostile invader, or the security of the state and the support of the liberties of the people, against treasonable domestic insurrections.^[314]

463His habits and manners were such as comported with the honest sincerity of his heart, the amiable simplicity of his whole character,^[315] and the nature of his 464pursuits in life. He loved quiet and order, and preferred retirement to the bustle of the world: and these dispositions endeared to him the comforts of domestic society. He considered ambition, pomp and ostentation, as being generally inconsistent with true happiness. His sentiments respecting luxury are expressed in very energetic language, in his Oration: he viewed it as the constant forerunner of tyranny; and both, as being, eventually, the means of destroying useful science, though professing to be its friends. Yet he was far from being inimical to that mutual “exchange of benefits,”^[316] which is effected by means of foreign commerce; 465or to those intercourses of society, which augment our rational enjoyments: he was, in truth, a friend to beneficial trade, and approved of those “social refinements, which really add to our happiness, and induce us with gratitude to acknowledge our great Creator’s goodness.”^[317] But he justly distinguished between that sort of commerce with foreign nations, that conduces to the well-being of mankind, and such as is obviously immoral in itself, or deleterious in its consequences. Of both these latter descriptions, he considered the slave-trade; a traffic, against which he bore his testimony more than thirty-seven years ago: and, 466as Dr. Rush has emphatically observed in respect to what he had advanced in favour of Christianity, “the single testimony of David Rittenhouse,” on the the one side, “outweighs the declamations of whole nations,” on the other. Commerce of an injurious nature, he viewed to be such as ministers more to the debauching luxuries of mankind, than to their necessities, conveniencies and substantial comforts.

No man had less of “the gloomy spirit of misanthropy,” than Dr. Rittenhouse: his whole life evinced, “with what ardour,” to use his own words, “he wished for the happiness of the whole race of mankind.” And, that he detested penuriousness, the contemptuous manner in which he has treated the character of the miser, in his Oration, is sufficient to testify. A manly spirit of independence, on the one hand, and a disposition, on the other, to partake rationally of what are called the good things of the world, induced him to pursue, in his style of living, a middle course, between extreme parsimony and a prodigality equally censurable. He was therefore, an economist. “His economy,” as Dr. Rush has justly remarked, even “extended to a wise and profitable use of his time:” for he was, when most in health, an early riser; and devoted much of his time to reading and other studies, when not otherwise engaged or usefully employed. So inestimable did our Philosopher deem this gift of heaven to man, that, says his Eulogist, he observed on a certain occasion, “that he once 467thought health the greatest blessing in the world, but he now thought there was one thing of much greater value, and that was time.”^[318]

Though rather plain and simple than otherwise, in all his domestic arrangements, he lived well,—in the common acceptation of the phrase. Nor was he in any respect deficient in that decorum in his personal appearance, and in the modest appendages of his household, which corresponded with his character and station in society. There was not the least affectation of any thing like parade or splendour, in his manner of living. In his dress he was remarkably neat, correct and gentlemanlike: his house, with its 468furniture were of a corresponding style of propriety; the mansion itself, with every thing appurtenant to it, seemed to denote its being the residence of good sense, elegant simplicity, and genuine comfort.

Neither the delicate state of his constitution, nor his almost unceasing employment, either in business or study, when enjoying his ordinary portion of health, permitted Dr. Rittenhouse to participate in the society of his friends, at his table, in that manner which an hospitable disposition and a desire to mingle in the conversation of estimable men, led him to wish. Yet he occasionally had a very few friends to dine with him; and on those occasions, he avoided every thing that could bear the least appearance of ostentation. He received, however, frequent visits in the evening, from persons whom he respected and esteemed,—at the time of taking tea, a beverage which was very grateful to him. It was on such occasions, more particularly, that he would unbend; he would then bear his part in reciprocations of amusement, as well as instruction, with great good humour, sometimes even pleasantry, if he were tolerably well. “As a companion,” says Dr. Rush, “he instructed upon all subjects:” an observation, of which the Writer of these Memoirs has, indeed, very often experienced the correctness; and there have been few men, perhaps, who ever had an opportunity of knowing his communicative disposition, from a personal acquaintance with him, that have not been either gratified or improved by his conversations.

469But the same causes that prevented his seeing his friends, beyond the circle of his family-connections, at his own table, as often as the sociability of his temper must have prompted him to do, imposed on him the necessity of very frequently declining the acceptance of invitations from others; more especially, for large dining parties, and companies of formal visitors: his habits of great temperance, a dislike of much ceremoniousness, and an economical disposition of his time, were further inducements to his declining, very generally, such invitations.

In domestic life his whole conduct was perfectly exemplary. No man was ever a better husband or father, or a more indulgent master; nor was there ever a kinder relative. He educated his children very liberally; and in the society of these, together with his wife, a woman of excellent understanding, he enjoyed in an high degree, and for some years, the delights of a rational and endearing intercourse. In this little family-society, he experienced a large portion of domestic happiness, no otherwise alloyed than by the bodily sufferings he occasionally endured. And, as Dr. Rush observes,^[319]—“when the declining state of his health rendered the solitude of his study less agreeable than in former years, he passed whole evenings in reading or conversing, with his wife and daughters.”—“Happy family!” exclaims his Eulogist, “so much and so long blessed with such a head!—and 470happier still, to have possessed dispositions and knowledge to discern and love his exalted character, and to enjoy his instructing conversation!”

In his friendship, as in all his social affections, he was perfectly sincere; for, his ardent love of truth led him to detest every species of dissimulation. He was warmly attached to many estimable characters, among those with whom he was acquainted; and he enjoyed, in return, their friendship and respect: besides which, he possessed in an high degree the esteem of all his fellow-citizens, to whom his name and character were well known. With not a few persons, who were either distinguished by literature and science, or by ingenuity, and information on general topics or particular subjects of useful knowledge, he was in habits of intimacy: in the list of these, might be placed several of the most eminent and dignified characters in America.

Dr. Rittenhouse’s epistolary correspondence, even with his personal friends, was by no means extensive: indeed the most of these, after his removal to Philadelphia, were there his fellow-citizens. His almost incessant employment, either in public or private business, occupied his time so fully as to allow him little leisure, when in the enjoyment of health; and sensible of the repeated inroads which the privation of this blessing made on his profitable time, he was covetous of every hour, in which his industry could be most conveniently as well us usefully engaged. He therefore, 471like the celebrated Dr. Bradley,^[320] published little. Possibly, too, this circumstance in relation to both these great astronomers, may have been, in some degree, occasioned by similar motives, a natural diffidence in their own faculties, extraordinary as others knew them to be. The English philosopher is even said to have been apprehensive, that a publication of his works might prove injurious to his reputation; and, therefore, he suppressed many of his papers: but whether our astronomer made preparations for publishing any large systematic work, in his favourite science, cannot be ascertained; the probability however is, that he did not, for want of time and health to engage in such an undertaking.

That the world possess so few of Dr. Rittenhouse’s philosophical papers, is a matter truly to be regretted: because records extensively promulgated, of the results of his numerous and laborious researches, concerning the most sublime and interesting operations of nature, would, beyond any doubt, have greatly added to the stock of human knowledge. And this regret is enhanced by the reflexion, that if the government of Pennsylvania could have conveniently pursued the plan proposed to them by the Philosophical Society, 472in the year 1775;^[321] or, had that or some such measure been adopted eight or ten years afterward, when the revolutionary war interposed no impediment to an important public arrangement of that nature; the world would, in all probability, at this day be in the possession of many additional productions of his vastly comprehensive genius. His astronomical discoveries and other fruits of his prolific mind, recorded by his pen, would in such case, it may be reasonably presumed, have redounded to the honour of his country and the benefit of mankind. But, that an American citizen of slender fortune, one who was (to use the strongly expressive terms of the Philosophical Society, on the occasion just mentioned,) “indebted for bread to his daily toil,”—that a man, thus circumstanced, could be expected to contribute a large portion of his inestimable time, wholly unrewarded, either to the public interests or the acquisition of personal fame, would be an impeachment of his prudence. Dr. Rittenhouse was not gratuitously furnished with a complete Observatory and Astronomical apparatus;^[322] nor, besides, recompensed by a liberal compensation 473from the public purse; in order that he might be enabled to devote himself to the public service, in scientific pursuits: Flamstead, Halley, Bliss, Bradley and Maskelyne, were so rewarded. Each of these eminent astronomers held, at different periods, the lucrative and honourable place of Regius Professor, or Astronomer Royal, at Greenwich.^[323]

474Notwithstanding Dr. Rittenhouse’s published writings are, for the reasons that have been assigned, not very extensive, his philosophical publications on various subjects, chiefly astronomical, are far from being inconsiderable in number; and some of them are highly important, while others discover the activity and force of his genius.^[324] The following is a list of his papers communicated to the Am. Philosophical Society, and published in their Transactions; arranged 475according to the dates at which they were severally read in the Society: viz.

1. The first volume, printed in the year 1771,^[325] contains—“A Description of a new Orrery; planned, and now nearly finished, by David Rittenhouse, A. M. of Norriton, in the county of Philadelphia:” communicated by Dr. Smith. Read, March 21. 1768.

2. “Calculation of the Transit of Venus over the Sun, as it is to happen, June 3d 1769, in Lat. 40° N. Long. 5^h. W. from Greenwich:” communicated 21st of June, 1768.

3. An Account of the Transit of Mercury over the Sun, Nov. 9. 1769, as observed at Norriton, in Pennsylvania, by Dr. Smith, and Messrs. Lukens, Rittenhouse, and O. Biddle, the committee appointed for that purpose by the Am. Philos. Society: drawn up and communicated, by direction and in behalf of the committee, by Dr. Smith—July 20. 1769.

4. Observations on the Comet of June and July, 1770; with the elements of its motion and the trajectory of its path; in two letters from David Rittenhouse, 476M. A. to William Smith, D. D. Prov. Coll. Philad.^[326] Communicated, Aug. 3. 1770.

5. An easy method of deducing the True Time of the Sun’s passing the Meridian, per clock, from a comparison of four equal altitudes, observed on two succeeding days; by David Rittenhouse, A. M.^[327] Communicated by William Smith, D. D. Prov. Coll. Philad.—Aug. 17. 1770.

6. Account of the Terrestrial Measurement of the difference of Longitude between the Observatories of 477Norriton and Philadelphia; drawn up by the Rev. Dr. Smith, in behalf of Mr. Lukens, Mr. Rittenhouse and himself, the committee appointed by the Am. Philos. Society, for that purpose, agreeably to the request of the Astronomer-Royal of England. Dated, Aug. 17. 1770.

7. The second volume, printed in the year 1786, contains—An Explanation of an Optical deception. Read, March 3. 1780.

8. An Account of some Experiments on Magnetism; in a letter from Mr. Rittenhouse to John Page, Esq. of Williamsburgh. Read, Feb. 6. 1781.

9. A letter from David Rittenhouse, Esq. to John Page, Esq. in answer to one from Mr. Page;) concerning a remarkable Meteor, seen in Virginia and Pennsylvania, on the 31st of Oct. 1779. Read, May 2. 1783. (N. B. Mr. Rittenhouse’s letter is dated Jan. 16. 1780.)

10. ObservationsObservations on a Comet lately discovered; communicated by David Rittenhouse, Esq.^[328] Read, March 19. 1784.

47811. A new Method of placing the Meridian Mark; in a letter to the Rev. Dr. Ewing, Provost of the University. Read, November. 1785.

12. An Optical Problem, proposed by Mr. Hopkinson, and solved by Mr. Rittenhouse. Read, Feb. 17. 1786. (N. B. Mr. Hopkinson’s letter is dated March 16, 1785: the answer is without date.)

13. Astronomical Observations; communicated by Mr. Rittenhouse. Without date.^[329]

14. The third volume, printed in the year 1793, contains—An Account of several Houses, in Philadelphia, struck with Lightning on the 7th of June, 1789; by Mr. D. Rittenhouse and Dr. John Jones. Read, July 17. 1789.

47915. An Account of the Effects of a stroke of Lightning on a House furnished with two Conductors; in a letter from Messrs. David Rittenhouse and Francis Hopkinson, to Mr. R. Patterson. Read, October 15. 1790.

16. Astronomical Observations made at Philadelphia: viz. of a Lunar Eclipse, on the 2d of November, 1789; of the Transit of Mercury over the Sun’s disk, on the 5th of November, 1789; of an Eclipse of the Moon, on the 22d of October, 1790; of an Eclipse of the Sun, on the 6th of November, 1790; and of an Annular Eclipse of the Sun, on the 3d of April, 1791:^[330] with an Account of corresponding Observations of the two first of these Phænomena, made at the University of William and Mary in Virginia, by the Rev. Dr. Madison; and of the second, alone, made at Washington-College in Maryland, by the Rev. Dr. Smith: communicated by D. Rittenhouse. Read, February 4. 1791.

17. A Letter from Dr. Rittenhouse to Mr. Patterson, relative to a Method of finding the Sum of the 480several Powers of the Sines, &c. Read, May 18. 1792.

18. An Account of a Comet, (first observed by Mr. Rittenhouse, on the 11th of January, 1793:) in a letter from D. Rittenhouse to Mr. Patterson.^[331] Read, February 15. 1793.

The fourth volume, printed in the year 1799, (three years after Dr. Rittenhouse’s death,) contains—

19. A paper, “On the Improvement of Time-keepers;” by David Rittenhouse, LL. D. Pres. Am. Philos. Society. Read, November 7. 1794.^[332]

48120. A paper, “On the Expansion of Wood by Heat;” in a letter from David Rittenhouse, LL. D. Pres. Am. Philos. Society. Dated, May 15. 1795.

21. A Method of raising the common Logarithm of any number immediately; by D. Rittenhouse, LL. D. Pres. Am. Philos. Society. Read, August 12. 1795.

22. A communication, “On the Mode of determining the true Place of a Planet, in an eliptical Orbit, directly from the mean Anomaly by Converging Series;” by David Rittenhouse, Pres. Am. Phil. Society. Read, February 5. 1796.

This last communication was made to the Society, within five months of the time immediately preceding Dr. Rittenhouse’s death.

482It is a strong evidence not only of our Philosopher’s industry, but of his attachment to that institution of which he was so great an ornament, that, in the course of the twenty-six years during which he was a member of it, he could find sufficient leisure,—almost constantly employed, as he was, in important public business, and frequently bereft of health,—to contribute so many valuable papers as he did, to the too scanty stock of its published Transactions. Dr. Franklin, who was a member of the Philosophical Society, and their president, for twenty-one years, furnished them with only eight communications during that time: and Mr. Jefferson, who has nominally occupied the president’s chair^[333] in the same Society above sixteen years, has favoured them with only two or three, within this period.

Had Dr. Rittenhouse enjoyed leisure to write, there are sufficient reasons to induce a belief, that his compositions would have been highly estimable; not solely for the subject matter of them, but for their manner also. It is true, he laboured under the privations of a liberal education: his style might therefore, perhaps, have been deficient in some of the ornamental appendages 483of classical learning. Nevertheless, the native energy of his mind, the clearness of his perceptions, the accuracy with which he employed his reasoning faculties,—in fine, the very extraordinary intellectual powers he displayed, when they were directed to the attainment of any species of human knowledge;—these would, doubtless, have supplied him with those beauties of language, which are usually, as well as most readily, derived from academic instruction. And in addition to all these, the sublimity of the objects which he so ardently and frequently contemplated, could scarcely fail to have communicated to his literary productions a due portion of an elevated style, when treating on subjects of a corresponding character. Dr. Rush, in noticing the address delivered by Rittenhouse before the Philosophical Society in the year 1775, observes, that “the language of this Oration is simple, but” that “the sentiments contained in it are ingenious, original, and in some instances sublime:” in another place, the learned Eulogist styles it an “eloquent performance.” It is presumed, that these characteristic features of that little work are not unaptly applied; and it will be found, on perusal, to be also strongly tinctured, throughout, with a vein of exalted piety^[334] and universal benevolence.

484Dr. Rittenhouse, by the vigour of his mind, by the transcendent powers of his genius, had surmounted 485the disadvantages of a defective education, as some few other great men have done; but it may be fairly 486inferred from the nature of things, that, had not that privation existed in the case of our Philosopher, he would have shone with a still superior lustre, not merely as a man of science, but as a literary character.^[335]

487The Writer of these Memoirs sincerely regrets, that he differs very widely, indeed, on this head, from a gentleman who has, himself, been distinguished in the literary world by his learning, as well as by his genius and science. “In speaking of Mr. Rittenhouse,” says his eloquent Eulogist, “it has been common to lament his want of what is called a liberal education.”—“Were education what it should be, in our public seminaries,” continues our ingenious Professor, “this would have been a misfortune; but conducted as it is at present, agreeably to the systems adopted in Europe in the fifteenth century, I am disposed to believe that his extensive knowledge, and splendid character, are to be ascribed chiefly to his having escaped the pernicious influence of monkish learning upon his mind, in early life. Had the usual forms of a public education in the United States been imposed upon him; instead of revolving through life in a planetary orbit, he would probably” says his Eulogist “have consumed the force of his genius by fluttering around the blaze of an evening taper: Rittenhouse the Philosopher, and one of the luminaries of the 18th century, might have spent his hours of study in composing syllogisms, or in measuring the feet of Greek and Latin poetry.” In another part of his Eulogium, (wherein he notices some fine and benevolent reflections of Dr. Rittenhouse, arising from a 488contemplation of particular works of nature,) Dr. Rush addresses an invocation to that distinguished class of learned men, the clergy, in terms corresponding with his sentiments just quoted:—“If such,” says he, “be the pious fruits of an attentive examination of the works of the Creator, cease, ye ministers of the gospel, to defeat the design of your benevolent labours, by interposing the common studies of the schools, between our globe and the minds of young people.”^[336]

489If, indeed, the “monkish learning” of the fifteenth century was now taught among us; if “composing 490syllogisms,” and “measuring the feet of Greek and Latin poetry,” were now the sole objects of scholastic instruction in this country; then might our learned Professor have anathematized, with good reason, the system of teaching in our Universities and Colleges. But it is well known, that the Aristotelian Philosophy, and what is denominated the Learning of the Schools, has been gradually declining in the European seminaries of learning, in the course of the last two centuries;^[337] and more particularly so, in the great schools 491of Britain and Ireland: that the system of academic instruction, deduced from the visionary theories of the philosophers of antiquity, is there, as well as here, nearly, if not entirely exploded. It is true, the Greek and Latin tongues are yet taught with great assiduity and success, in the British Isles; as they have hitherto been, among ourselves:^[338] and it is confidently hoped, that those languages will long continue to be cultivated with unabated zeal, in this country; whatever may be their fate on the European continent, where it is said they are rapidly declining, along with other branches of useful learning, and accompanied by an evident decay of many social refinements. Those languages are, in fact, valuable auxiliaries in the attainment of many branches of useful science, and have ever been considered 492the best substratum of polite learning and literary taste.

A man may, assuredly, be a profound astronomer; he may be eminently skilled in other branches of natural science, or in the doctrines of morals; he may be well versed in the polite arts; and yet may not understand either Greek or Latin. Nevertheless, an intimate and classical acquaintance with these languages cannot diminish the powers of his mind, or render him less capable of excelling in other departments of human knowledge. Bacon, Newton, Boyle, and Maclauren, with a multitude of others, the most distinguished for genius, science and learning, received an academical education; they were masters of the Greek and Latin languages; and were also instructed, without doubt, even in the formation of syllogisms:^[339] yet 493these great men were not the less eminent as philosophers. It is to be presumed, that, while at their several 494schools and colleges, they were employed in acquiring the more solid and useful parts of learning; as well as the ornamental and polite. Both are taught in all the higher seminaries; and to the Universities of the United States, as well as of Europe, are attached Professorships^[340] for such instruction.

The able and learned editor of “The American Review of History and Politics”^[341] remarks, that, “for very obvious reasons it could not be expected, that Philology would be duly appreciated, or cultivated to any extent, by the American public in general. The state of society in this country, so admirable under many points of view, renders this impossible. We should not be surprised or discouraged at a general 495ignorance of, and an almost universal indifference about the learned languages: but this is not all; the public feeling is not confined to mere apathy: it borders on hostility. Numbers are not wanting, persons even of influence in the community, who industriously proclaim, not simply the utter insignificance, but the pernicious tendency of classical learning; and who would proscribe it as idle in itself, and as dangerous to republicanism. At the same time, our progress in this pursuit is far from being in a natural ratio with our advances in other respects. Philology is in fact, even worse than stationary among us; from what cause, whether from the influence of the extraordinary notions just mentioned, or from the absence of all external excitements, we will not now pretend to determine.”

Should these judicious remarks of the respectable Reviewer be considered as containing an indirect censure on such “persons of influence” as he may be supposed to allude to, who “proclaim” the “pernicious tendency of classical learning,”learning,”—it is much to be lamented by the friends of literature and science, that there should be any just grounds for its support.

Dr. Rittenhouse understood the German^[342] and Low Dutch languages, well; and had acquired a sufficient 496knowledge of the French, to enable him to comprehend astronomical and other works written in that tongue. These acquisitions, it has been observed, “served the valuable purpose of conveying to him the discoveries of foreign nations, and thereby enabled him to prosecute his studies with more advantage in his native language.”^[343]

But these were not the whole of his philological attainments. By the dint of genius, and by that spirit of perseverance which he manifested in every thing he undertook, he overcame in a great degree the difficulties of the Latin tongue.^[344] This he did for the 497same valuable purpose that he had in view, in learning the German, Low Dutch and French.

The reading of our Philosopher was extensive. It embraced every department of polite literature, as well as many branches of what is called, by way of distinction, useful knowledge. He appears to have been more particularly attached to history, voyages and travels, and to the poetick muse:^[345] but the drama, ingenious productions of the imagination, and other works of taste and fancy, likewise engaged a portion of his attention.^[346] Dr. Rush asserts, that he had early 498and deeply studied most of the different systems of theology.theology.^[347] On this head, no further information can be given by the writer of these Memoirs: yet he thinks he has good reason for believing,—and such as are independent of Dr. Rittenhouse’s known liberality, with respect to various modes of faith and worship, that he never gave a very decided preference to any 499one regular society of Christians, over others; he loved that sort of Christianity, which inculcates sound morals: his charity, in regard to theological opinions and other concerns of religion, was great; and he felt no disposition to observe any thing like a scrupulous adherence to such tenets or rites, as he deemed less essential to the well-being of mankind. It was, in fact, the liberal manner (and this alone) in which he sometimes expressed himself on subjects of this nature, influenced by sentiments of the purest benevolence, that induced some persons of more rigid principles, and perhaps less candour, to doubt the soundness of his faith in revealed religion: but the whole tenor of his life, and the religious sentiments he had publicly and repeatedly avowed, shew how ill-founded such suspicions were.^[348] A mind so contemplative as his, 500so devoted to the pursuit of truth, so boundless in its views, and so ardently attached to virtue, would naturally lead him to an investigation of the principles of Christianity; and it is evident from some passages in his Oration, and also in his familiar letters to his friends, that he believed in the fundamental articles of the Christian faith,^[349] however he may have doubted 501respecting some of the more abstract and less important tenets of the church.

As Dr. Rittenhouse never attached himself to the distinguishing dogmas of any one sect of Christians; so, on the authority of a letter addressed to the Memorialist by Mr. B. Rittenhouse, soon after his brother’s decease, it may be asserted, that our Philosopher “was never joined in communion with any particular religious society; though he esteemed good men of all sects.” In his youth, it is probable he was bred a Baptist; the sect to which his father (and, it is believed, his mother also,) belonged: at subsequent periods, he entertained favourable opinions of the church of England, and of the principles of the quakers (so called.) 502In some of the latter years of his life, he and his family pretty frequently attended divine service in a presbyterian congregation, of which a very respectable and worthy gentleman then was the pastor and until very lately continued to officiate as such.^[350] That church is situated in the same street wherein Dr. Rittenhouse dwelt; and its then minister was one of many clergymen, belonging to different churches, whom he personally esteemed.

Some of his letters to his confidential friends testify, nevertheless, that he by no means embraced some of the doctrines of Calvinism: nor did he, probably, approve of others, in their more rigid interpretation.^[351] In 503one of those letters, addressed to the Rev. Mr. Barton, (an Episcopalian, of the English church,) from Philadelphia, so early as September, 1755, he wrote thus: “I have been here several days, and am fatigued and somewhat indisposed. You know my spirits are never very high, and will therefore expect a melancholy 504letter from me at present. I should be glad of opportunities to receive letters from you, and to write to you oftener:—indeed, I am desirous of disclosing to you some of my most serious thoughts.” It can scarcely be doubted, from the complexion of this paragraph and the character of the person to whom our then young philosopher was writing, that these “most serious thoughts,” which he wished so much to disclose to his clerical friend, related to some points in divinity. After subjoining, in the same letter, some reflexions, of such a cast as shew that his spirits were depressed by fatigue and indisposition, as was usually the case with him, he proceeded thus: “I assure you, notwithstanding, I am no misanthrope; but think good society one of the greatest blessings of life. Whatever is said of original sin, the depravity of our nature, and our propensity to all evil; though men are said to be wolves to men; yet, think, I can see abundance of goodness in human nature, with which I am enamoured. I would sooner give up my interest in a future state, than be divested of humanity;—I mean, that good-will which I have to the species, although one half of them are said to be fools, and almost the other half knaves. Indeed I am firmly persuaded that we are not at the disposal of a Being who has the least tincture of ill-nature, or requires any in us. You will laugh at this grave philosophy, or my writing to you on a subject you have thought of a thousand times. But, can any thing that is serious, be ridiculous? Shall we suppose Gabriel smiling at Newton, for labouring 505to demonstrate whether the earth moves or not, because the former plainly sees it move?”

This extract (the latter part of which constitutes a note to Dr. Rush’s Eulogium,) expresses, in the concluding sentence, a beautiful and apt allusion, in reference to the subject. It likewise contains a finely-turned compliment to the superior knowledge he presumed Mr. Barton to possess, on theological subjects; without its seeming to have been intended, that it should comprehend himself also,—otherwise than as he might be considered, for a moment, to be personating that branch of science which he most assiduously cultivated. The compliment, so far as it appeared to apply to himself, was unquestionably due to him; but his modesty would have forbidden his using it, even to a brother-in-law, could he have imagined at the instant of penning it, that a portion of it might be referred to himself, personally.

The whole scope of the passage, just quoted, “shews,” however, as his Eulogist has observed, “how early and deeply the principles of universal benevolence were fixed in his mind.” And in his Oration, composed when he was in the full meridian of life, our Philosopher has plainly indicated, that the same philanthropic spirit, that species of benevolence which is the basis of true religion, and that warmed his youthful breast, continued to animate it with unabated fervency: “That Being,” said he, “before whose piercing 506eye all the intricate foldings and dark recesses of the human heart become expanded and illuminated, is my witness, with what sincerity, with what ardour, I wish for the happiness of the whole race of mankind; how much I admire that disposition of lands and seas, which affords a communication between distant regions, and a mutual exchange of benefits; how sincerely I approve of those social refinements which really add to our happiness, and induce us with gratitude to acknowledge our great Creator’s goodness; how I delight in a participation of the discoveries made from time to time in nature’s works, by our philosophic brethren in Europe.”

In the opinion of our Philosopher, “every enlargement of our faculties, every new happiness conferred upon us, every step we advance towards the perfection of the Divinity, will very probably render us more and more sensible of his inexhaustible stores of communicable bliss, and of his inaccessible perfections.”^[352] He supposed, that, even in this world, “wherein we are 507only permitted ‘to look about us and to die,’ there is ample provision made for employing every faculty of the human mind; even allowing its powers to be constantly enlarged through an endless repetition of ages;” but admitting, at the same time, “that there is nothing in it capable of satisfying us.”

Similar indications of his extensive benevolence, and of the high sense he entertained of the dignity of human nature, as well as of the attributes of the Deity, are found every where in his writings; and the “elegant and pious extract” (as it is termed by Dr. Rush, in his Eulogium,) from a letter to one of his friends, quoted in another place, affords a striking instance of the prevalence of that disposition in the towering mind of Rittenhouse.

If “he believed political, as well as moral, evil, to be intruders into the society of men,”^[353] he was certainly too well acquainted with the moral constitution of man and the evident nature of humanity, to suppose, “that a time would come, when every part of our globe would echo back the heavenly proclamation of universal peace on earth and good will to man.”^[354] Possessing a most benevolent disposition, he did believe, “that a conduct in this life, depending on our choice, will stamp our characters for ages yet to come.” He was so far from expecting any thing like perfectibility here, 508that he thought, that man as a free agent, in darkening his faculties by an unworthy application of them here on earth, might “degrade himself to some inferior rank of being,” hereafter; while, on the other hand, by “the exercise of virtue, and a rational employment of those talents we are entrusted with,”—“we shall, in a few years, be promoted to a more exalted rank among the creatures of God—have our understandings greatly enlarged—be enabled to follow Truth in all her labyrinths, with an higher relish and more facility; and thus lay the foundation for an eternal improvement in knowledge and happiness.” Our Philosopher acknowledged, that he was “not one of those sanguine spirits who seem to think, that, when the withered hand of death hath drawn up the curtain of eternity, almost all distance between the creature and the creator, between finite and infinite, will be annihilated.annihilated.”^[355] Yet, the Writer of these Memoirs has no hesitation in expressing an opinion, with which a long and intimate acquaintance with Dr. Rittenhouse has forcibly impressed his own mind; that this virtuous man was inclined to believe, or rather, actually did believe, (with the distinguished author of the Dissertation on the Prophecies,)^[356] in a final restitution of all things to harmony and happiness in another state of existence.

509The learned Eulogist of our Philosopher, whom his present biographer has already so often quoted with much interest and pleasure, (although he is, on some points, so unfortunate as to be compelled to dissent from him,) has remarked, that Dr. Rittenhouse “was well acquainted with practical metaphysics.” He had, without doubt, attentively studied those branches, at least, of this science, which embrace moral philosophy, connected, as it is, with a rational system of natural religion: probably, too, he had investigated its more abstruse and less useful departments: and, perhaps, he had also directed his all-inquisitive mind, in some degree, to a contemplation of those mental vagaries of the modern philosophy, as it is termed, which neither subserve the purposes of ethics or of natural theology: a system, if it deserve that appellation, made up of such incongruous materials, such visionary notions, as by their falsity alone, independently of their mischievous operation in society, seem calculated to dishonour the name of philosophy, and to depreciate the highly meritorious services rendered to mankind by the votaries of true science. If, however, Dr. Rittenhouse ever did condescend to employ any considerable portion of his valuable time, in making himself acquainted with the delusive principles of this multifarious sect of pseudo-philosophers, it has been already manifested with what sentiments of disapprobation, if not of abhorrence, he regarded their doctrines.^[357]

510It being presumed, therefore, that our Philosopher was, in the words of his Eulogist, “well acquainted with practical metaphysics,” an inference may thence be fairly made, that, with respect to metaphysical deductions, “he could use them,” as has been said of 511Maclaurin, “with as much subtlety and force as any man living; but”—also like that celebrated philosopher—“he chose rather, in his conversation as well as his writings, to bring the matter to a short issue, in his own way.” Certain it is, however, that Dr. Rittenhouse reprobated, as did his eminent predecessor just named, that subtile, vague and inconclusive kind of ratiocination, the mode of reasoning, in matters of abstract science, from causes to effects,^[358] which so 512much characterize that “cobweb philosophy,”^[359] of which the mass of mere metaphysical systems is made up. Rittenhouse was a practical philosopher: he held in contempt the obscurity of mysticism, in every object of rational enquiry; viewing it as being, always, either the parent or the offspring of error. He loved “sober certainty,”^[360] in philosophy; and therefore he pursued Truth, in all his scientific researches, in that practical and rational mode of philosophizing, which he deemed conformable to the nature of truth itself, and best adapted to the construction and faculties of the human mind.mind.^[361]

What was the general bias of Dr. Rittenhouse’s opinions on the subject of government, no one who 513knew him could doubt; and they are likewise deducible, not only from his writings, but from the uniform course of his public and official conduct. He was, in fact, from the dawn of the American controversy with the government of the mother-country to the year 1775, a whig, in his political principles. From the commencement of hostilities in that year, his feelings, as a native of America, prejudiced him strongly against the administration of the British government; and the prejudices thus imbibed, were transferred, soon after, from those men who administered that government—as well as their measures, to the nature and form of the government itself. And finally, on the establishment of the national independence of the United States, in 1776, his opinions settled down, very decidedly, in favour of the governmental system of a representative and elective republic.

But, until the arrival of that important epocha, when thirteen North-American colonies of Great Britain solemnly announced to the world their separation from the parent-state, Rittenhouse thought and acted, in relation to political affairs, pretty much as his countrymen did. “Previous to the American revolution,” as Ramsay the historian has remarked, “the inhabitantsinhabitants of the British colonies were universally loyal:” and another American writer^[362] of respectability has correspondently observed, that the proceedings of the first congress were “cool, deliberate and loyal, though 514marked with unanimity and firmness.” Indeed many months elapsed, after the appeal to arms was actually made, before the strong attachment to the mother-country, which the American colonists had always manifested, generally subsided. But, after the middle of the year 1775, “the prejudices in favour of a connexion with England and of the English constitution,” (to use the words of Chief-Justice Marshall,^[363] “gradually, but rapidly wore off; and were succeeded by republican principles, and wishes for independence.”

Such then, it is confidently believed, was the progress of political sentiments in their operation upon the mind of Rittenhouse, in common with a large majority of the American people.

The information must therefore have been wholly erroneous, upon which Dr. Rush was induced to ground his assertion, that “the year of the declaration of Independence, which changed our royal governments into republics, produced no change in his (Rittenhouse’s) political opinions,—for,” continues the Doctor, “he had been educated a republican by his father.” The very reason which the able and zealous Eulogist has here assigned for Dr. Rittenhouse’s political principles having undergone no change in consequence of the American revolution, being predicated upon an assumed but mistaken fact, it serves to invalidate 515that allegation; and it would never have been made, had not Dr. Rush been led into the error by misinformation on the subject. Because, those who were personally acquainted with our Philosopher’s father, (Mr. Matthias Rittenhouse,) must well know, that the old gentleman was remarkable for his quiet, unoffending principles and conduct; that he meddled very little, if at all, with public affairs; and that, although a man of good judgment, he had never turned his attention to political controversies or speculations on the science of government. He was in truth a pious man, of great industry, plain manners and unambitious temper; and he uniformly approved himself a peaceable and faithful subject of that monarchy under which he lived seventy-three years, until 1776. On the other hand, the theory of government was a subject upon which the son had, doubtless, thought and read much. It cannot, therefore, be reasonably concluded, that Dr. Rittenhouse was “educated a republican by his father.”

It is asked: “How could he (Rittenhouse) behold the beauty and harmony of the universe as the result of universal and mutual dependance, and not admit that Heaven intended Rulers to be dependant upon those, for whose benefit, alone, all government should exist? To suppose the contrary,” it is added, “would be to deny unity and system in the plans of the great Creator of all things.”^[364] But, with all due deference 516to the genius and talents of the highly respectable gentleman here quoted, the writer cannot persuade himself, that our Astronomer could have drawn such inferences as the results of analogical reasoning, from the beauty and harmony of the Universe, as those which the foregoing extract would seem to impute to him. For, who are those, “for whose benefit, alone, all government should exist?” The People: And in such a republic as the United States—where there cannot exist, constitutionally, “a privileged order of men”—the Rulers are, surely, a part of the People. What, then, is the nature of this mutuality of dependence between Rulers and People? If government should exist for the benefit of the People, that is, all the members of the community, as most assuredly it ought to do; then it should be conducted for the benefit of the Rulers, as well as of those who are ruled; the former being a component part of the entire community, under the comprehensive denomination of the People. It is therefore conceived, that, on republican principles, the People and their Rulers cannot be so contradistinguished as separate bodies of men, as that the former, alone, should be dependant on the latter; but that there ought to be between them, as constituting jointly and collectively the People, that “mutual dependance,” of which the ingenious Eulogist speaks: otherwise, a privileged order of men must be considered as actually existing among us. Yet, even in the monarchical republic of Great Britain,^[365] the business 517of government is not wholly “limited” to “a privileged order of men:”^[366] One branch of the legislative body is popular; and one branch, also, of the judicial department of that government, the institution of juries, is purely republican.

The learned professor, here referred to, is nevertheless an highly estimable citizen of the American Republic, 518as his numerous and important public services fully evince. In his “Address to the People of the United States,” published shortly before the sitting of the Federal Convention, he has pointed out two “errors or prejudices on the subject of government in America, which,” as he very justly observes, “lead to the most dangerous consequences.” The correctness of his sentiments on the subject of those errors, does him honour: such of his observations as are more particularly applicable to the present subject, are contained in the following passages.

“It is often said, that ‘the sovereign power and all other power is seated in the people.’ This idea is unhappily expressed. It should be—‘all power is derived from the people.’ They possess it only on the days of their elections. After this, it is the property of their Rulers; nor can they exercise or resume it, unless it is abused. It is of importance to circulate this idea, as it tends to order and good government.” And again:

“The people of America have mistaken the meaning of the word Sovereignty: hence, each State pretends to be sovereign. In Europe, it is applied only to those states, which possess the power of making war and peace, of forming treaties, and the like. As this power belongs only to Congress, they are the only sovereign power in the United States.”

519The Memorialist is persuaded, that Dr. RittenhouseRittenhouse would have fully concurred in this construction of the nature of sovereignty, in an elective government: and he has been the more diffuse on this subject, in order both to prevent and remove, as much as possible, any misconceptions respecting the political opinions of our Philosopher.

An unostentatious simplicity and strict integrity, with a due proportion of dignity and firmness, in the administration of the public affairs; a judicious economy, in the management and expenditure of the public revenues; a zealous attention to the public interests and the happiness of the people; a wise and faithful administration of justice among the various members of the community, without any invidious distinctions; a strict observance of good faith, in all relations with foreign states; a sincere attachment to peace with its concomitant blessings, and consequently, an abhorrence of unnecessary wars, whether provoked, or undertaken, by means of the cupidity or the ambition of rulers; these have been usually considered, in theory, as characteristics of republican governments. Greatly is it to be desired, that they may always prove to be so, in fact.

That both the Rittenhouses, father and son, should be attached to an order of things in the commonwealth, established and conducted on the principles just mentioned, may be readily conceived from a 520knowledge of their characters. To a system of civil polity, productive of such substantial benefits to all those under its immediate operation, Dr. Rittenhouse would naturally have been inclined: his habits, manners and principles, would so dispose him. Hence, after having indulged, for a moment, the pleasing but fanciful hypothesis, that if the inhabitants of the other planets resemble man in their faculties and affections; if, like him, they were created liable to fall, though some of them might be presumed to retain their original rectitude; he proceeds with supposing, “that they are wise enough to govern themselves according to the dictates of that reason which God has given them, in such manner as to consult their own and each other’s happiness, upon all occasions. But if, on the contrary,” said he, “they have found it necessary to erect artificial fabrics of government, let us not suppose they have done it with so little skill, and at such an enormous expence, as to render them a misfortune, instead of a blessing. We will hope,” continues the philanthropic Rittenhouse, “that their statesmen are patriots, and that their kings, if that order of beings has found admittance there, have the feelings of humanity.” He next deplores, in terms which evince the strength of his feelings on the occasion, the folly as well as iniquity of holding the Africans in bondage among us; national rapacity; the scourges of war, then recently inflicted on the north of Europe; and, finally, he deprecates in very impressive 521language, the inroads of “luxury, and her constant follower, tyranny.”^[367]

Dr. Rittenhouse having entertained such sentiments as these, at the time he penned his Oration, and it will be recollected, that this was only two or three months before hostilities had actually taken place between Great-Britain and her North-American Colonies, he was naturally enough induced to believe, that many of the political evils which were, about that period, experienced in civil society by a large portion of mankind, arose from the nature of their respective governments. And, the principal states of Europe, with the exception of the Dutch commonwealth, were then governed under the monarchical form.

In the American continental colonies of Great-Britain, generally, it was the prevalent opinion of the people at the commencement of the revolution, that the grievances complained of by the colonists, originated, almost as a matter of necessity, from the monarchical spirit of the mother-country: consequently, many of those great public evils which sprung from the genius, habits and pursuits, of the people themselves, in the great monarchies of the old world, were generally attributed to some peculiar vices inherent in that species of government. It was the universality, 522almost, of these opinions; which soon after obtained throughout the United Colonies, that produced a determination in the people to establish, for themselves, republican forms of government, as independent states. Such were accordingly established; and the American people have long experienced their efficiency in promoting the prosperity of the country.

Should it, nevertheless, unfortunately happen at any future period, that the now existing national constitution should, by any means, be perverted from its original design; should a system of government so well planned—“in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquillity, provide for the common defence, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity;”^[368] should this well-defined Charter of American freedom, by means of mal-administration or otherwise, eventually frustrate the patriotic intentions of its illustrious framers; then, indeed, will the noblest effort ever made by any people to institute a rational system of free government, blast the best hopes of the advocates of republicanism. In such event—which, may heaven avert! the often quoted couplet would be too fatally verified, wherein the poet says:

“For forms of government let fools contest;

Whate’er is best administer’d, is best.”^[369]

Pope’s Essay on Man.

523Dr. Rittenhouse was, undoubtedly, among those who entertained the most sanguine expectations, that the political institutions in the United States, formed as they are according to the republican model, would tend to meliorate the condition of the people, and “promote the general welfare.” He may at some time have even “believed political, as well as moral evil, to be intruders into the society of men.”^[370] 524But some passages in his Oration plainly shew, that, as has been already observed, he had no faith in the perfectibility of human reason,^[371] in this life. He was also too sound a philosopher not to know, that if, by the best rules of philosophical ratiocination, many well known phænomena in the natural world could not be reached, with respect to their nature and causes, in such manner as to render these susceptible of demonstrative proof,—nothing like certainty in the result, much less perfection, could be calculated on, in putting the theories of a science, such as government, to the test of experiment.

525If it be asked: ‘Where are the Works of Rittenhouse?’ a ready and satisfactory answer to the question is at hand. Although he published no ponderous volumes, he has left behind him great and honourable memorials of his genius, his science and his skill; such as will long remain, as Monuments of the extraordinary extent of his practical usefulness in his day, and of his well-earned fame. “He has not indeed made a world,” as Mr. Jefferson, in speaking of his Orrery, emphatically expresses himself; “but he has, by imitation, approached nearer its Maker, than any man who has lived from the creation to this day.”^[372] As long, too, as the geographical boundaries of Pennsylvania, connected in part with those of the neighbouring states, shall continue to define the respective jurisdictions of their local sovereignties and rights, considered as members of a great confederated nation; so long will they serve to distinguish the name of Rittenhouse.^[373] Nay, some of the rivers and canals, even some principal roads, in the country of his nativity, bear testimony to his talents, his public 526spirit and his industry. His inventions and improvements, in various specimens of mechanism, conceived and executed by himself, fully manifest, that, “as an artist, he has exhibited as great a proof of mechanical genius as the world has ever produced.”^[374] And, as a man of extensive and profound science, his various philosophical papers, but more especially those relating to his astronomical observations, justify Mr. Jefferson’s remark, that he was “second to no Astronomer living,”—that he was, “in genius the first, because self-taught.”^[375]

Such, then, were the “Works” of this truly great man. And it appears that they were, in general, not only arduous in their execution, and highly beneficial in their uses and effects; but that they were likewise the productions of a lofty, penetrating and active genius, great knowledge and skill, and the most indefatigable perseverance.^[376]

527But though Dr. Rittenhouse published no great systematic literary work, he communicated to others by his conversation, and by such of his writings as have been given to the world, much valuable philosophical information. He instructed, liberally, such persons as were desirous of acquiring knowledge from a social intercourse with him. The elevated station his character maintained, both for wisdom and integrity, exhibited him to his cotemporaries as an example worthy of being imitated:^[377] and thus, in reality, his high reputation operated as a powerful incitement upon many of his countrymen, to pursue similar objects of science, inspiring them with a taste to cultivate the true philosophy.

The reputation of this distinguished man, as a mathematician and astronomer, was pre-eminently great, in every civilized part of the western world. Perhaps no man’s philosophical talents were ever held in 528higher estimation, nor more deservedly so, by those qualified to form a proper judgment of them, wherever his name was known; not excepting those of Newton himself. His celebrity was far from being confined within the limits of his native country: his Orrery, with the proceedings and results of the Observation of that phænomenon which so greatly interested the principal astronomers of both hemispheres, the Transit of Venus in 1769, had rendered him justly celebrated in Europe as well as America, as a philosopher of the highest grade, at the age of thirty-seven years.

The peculiar circumstances of his Life, which have been amply detailed in these Memoirs, were of such a nature as to preclude him, in a great measure, from opportunities of carrying on a correspondence with men of science and letters, abroad: the extremely delicate, and oftentimes infirm state of his general health, in addition to his numerous avocations, his long continued, various, and important employments in the public service, left him little leisure for literary pursuits of any kind. Indeed, nothing less than the wonderful energy of his mind, and his extraordinary industry, could have enabled him to write as much as he has done.^[378]

529Dr. Rittenhouse never attempted to amuse the world with any hypothetical system of philosophy, or with opinions, merely speculative, on any subject. The great objects of his pursuits, through life, were Certainty and Truth: hence, he never advanced an opinion, concerning any thing whatever, which he did not consider as being either susceptible of verification by experiment and the evidence of our senses, or, where the nature of the subject did not admit of such proof, capable of being tested by the soundest principles of human reason. Yet, though this profound investigator of nature viewed “sober certainty” as the great desideratum in philosophy, he was by no means a dogmatist; even with respect to that portion of natural science which is capable of demonstration. Notwithstanding the opinion he entertained of the vast extent to which the faculties of the mind may be enlarged by a proper improvement of them, he was fully aware that its powers are limited. Like his great predecessor, Maclaurin, “the farther he advanced in the knowledge of geometry and of nature, the greater his aversion grew to perfect systems, hypotheses, and dogmatizing: without peevishly despising the attainments we can arrive at, or the uses to which they serve, he saw there lay infinitely more beyond our reach.” Like him, also, he considered “our highest discoveries as being but a dawn of knowledge, suited to our circumstances and wants in this life; which, however, we ought thankfully to acquiesce in, for the present, in hopes that it will be improved in a happier and more 530perfect state.”^[379] Rittenhouse never supposed, that, (to use the words of Maclaurin’s biographer^[380]), “because 531demonstrative evidence is the most perfect, it should be—as, by some, it has been—taken for granted, there is no other.” On the contrary, our philosopher believed that there are many truths, natural as well as moral, which are beyond the reach of demonstration; consequently, not to be rejected, solely by reason of their insusceptibility of this kind of proof. Hence, in his Oration he says, “Our Religion teaches us what Philosophy could not have taught; and we ought to admire, with reverence, the great things it has pleased Divine Providence to perform, beyond the ordinary course of nature, for man, who is undoubtedly the most noble inhabitant of this globe. But,” continues this truly good man, “neither Religion nor Philosophy forbid us to believe, that infinite Wisdom and Power, prompted by infinite Goodness, may, throughout the vast extent of creation and duration, have frequently interposed in a manner quite incomprehensible to us, when it became necessary to the happiness of created beings of some other rank or degree.”

532Such were the pious reflections of a Christian Philosopher; the sublime sentiments of an eminently distinguished Astronomer.

Should it be enquired: What was the system of Philosophy, to which Dr. Rittenhouse adhered? though such a question can scarcely be anticipated, after what has been already said; the answer may be furnished in a few words: He was a thorough and zealous disciple of the Newtonian school. He early embraced, and perseveringly cultivated, “the Philosophy of Newton;” which “disdains to make use of subterfuges,” which “is not reduced to the necessity of using them, because it pretends not to be of nature’s privy council;” while “other systems of philosophy have ever found it necessary to conceal their weakness and inconsistency, under the veil of unintelligible terms and phrases, to which no two mortals perhaps ever affixed the same meaning.”^[381]

533With Newton, too, our Philosopher entertained the most exalted conceptions of the Deity. He did not imagine, as his illustrious predecessor was unjustly charged with having done, that infinite space is an attribute of the Deity; that He is present in all parts of space, by diffusion;^[382] but, like that great man, he did believe, that the Deity endures from eternity to eternity, and is present from infinity to infinity; yet that He is not eternity or infinity, space or duration. For, says Dr. Rittenhouse, “Nothing can better demonstrate 534the immediate presence of the Deity in every part of space, whether vacant or occupied by matter, than Astronomy does. It was from an Astronomer St. Paul quoted that exalted expression, so often since repeated, ‘In‘In God we live, and move, and have our being.’”being.’”^[383]

The terms of profound veneration, in which our Philosopher spoke, on all occasions, of the character of Newton, demonstrate most clearly his complete and undeviating attachment to the Principles of that astonishing man.^[384] Indeed, he appears to have taken him as his model; and, certainly, he resembled him much, in many points of character. Parallels have often been drawn between distinguished men; and in comparatively a few instances, a strong resemblance has been discovered, in some prominent features of character, between two or more persons. Yet the infinite variety of talent, that appears throughout the human race; the almost incredible difference in the grades of intellectual endowment, distinguishing the sons of men from each other; and the adventitious circumstances 535peculiar to each individual, which either direct or controul his conduct, and seem to mark his destiny in life; all these, taken together, produce such an endless diversity of character in the species, as to render it impracticable, if not absolutely impossible, to find any two men who greatly resemble each other in many particulars.

There are, nevertheless, so many circumstances founded on natural causes, that indicate an extraordinary similitude in the genius, disposition and principles of Rittenhouse, and his great Prototype; so many, moreover, of a singular nature, connected with events purely adventitious, wherein the condition, occupations and pursuits of these philosophers, with other eventual relations depending wholly on accident, resembled each other; that an interesting parallel, between them, might be attempted with no inconsiderable share of success.

In the course of these Memoirs, the Biographer of Rittenhouse has endeavoured to furnish a faithful representation of the Philosopher and of the Man. He was desirous of delineating his true character, in both points of view; that the world may be enabled to make a just estimate of the genius, the principles, and the conduct of a person, so celebrated in name. But, in order that the more correct judgment might be formed of his virtues and talents, and of the services he has rendered to society, it became necessary to describe 536the sphere in which he moved; so far, at least, as to present to view occasional sketches of the complexion of the Times in which he lived, and of some of the more prominent Characters who were his compatriots. The Memorialist has therefore conveyed to the mind of his reader some idea of the moral, political, and literary state of society, more particularly in the country of our Philosopher’s residence, within the same period. This rendered it proper to notice the rise, nature, and progress of certain Institutions, upon which science and the arts, with many of the benefits of civil polity, greatly depend; such as tend to diffuse useful knowledge throughout the community, to promote the general weal, and to meliorate the condition of the great family of mankind.

It has been already observed, that every individual in society is more or less closely connected with it, in various ways: and it is obvious, that an eminent citizen, one, especially, standing in relations of a public nature in the community of which he is a member, usually has his history and character so interwoven with those of his own times, that it is difficult to understand the former thoroughly, without possessing a competent knowledge of the latter. The Life of such a man as Rittenhouse could not, therefore, in many respects, be either well comprehended or duly estimated, unless there had been connected with it some account of men and things, to which his private pursuits and public employments were, directly or indirectly, related.

537In whatever light, then, a retrospective view of Dr. Rittenhouse’s character may be taken, it will be found to present a model worthy of imitation. The mild and amiable virtues of domestic life, and similar dispositions in the intercourses of private society, decorated his whole deportment, as a man and as a citizen; the more stern qualities of the patriot equally distinguished him as the friend of his native country, in all his public relations; while the principles of genuine philanthrophy impressed his heart with feelings of the most extended benevolence. In all these respects, nevertheless, some have equalled, though few, if any, have surpassed him. But when, united to virtues and dispositions, such as these, the powerful genius, the extensive philosophical talents and attainments, the self-acquired and extraordinary mechanical skill of Dr. Rittenhouse, shall also have been considered; it will be acknowledged, that the Memoirs of his Life, commemorate a Man truly great. They recal to his surviving countrymen, and to their posterity, a remembrance of his excellence and usefulness; presenting to them such a specimen of worth and abilities, as is highly deserving of being emulated. At the same time, they exhibit to the world a faithful portrait of a Man, whose character had early acquired the well-earned respect of the wise and good in other nations. During his life, the name of Rittenhouse received due homage from some of the most illustrious Philosophers of Europe. In his own country, that name cannot cease to be venerated, so long as genius, 538science, and virtue, shall be held in the high estimation to which they are entitled.

It has been observed by a noble author^[385] of the present day, “that the decline of public spirit in matters of Taste, is a certain indication of political decay.” To whatever degree the justness of this observation may extend, it will apply still more forcibly to any country, wherein a disregard, consequently a declension of learning, science and moral virtue, is perceived. Rittenhouse lived in an eventful age. During a long period of his life, he witnessed a comparative simplicity of manners and much integrity of character, among his countrymen. He beheld a progressive course of useful knowledge, and an advance in those arts and refinements of polished society, which minister as well to the rational enjoyments as to the conveniences of human life; and these he saw accompanied by almost every species of public improvements, promoted by the liberal spirit of the people and fostered by the benign genius of the government. Our Philosopher himself, one-and-twenty years before his death, in speaking of the rapid progress his countrymen had then made in almost every species of social refinements, made this remark: “We have made most surprising, I had almost said unnatural, advances towards the meridian of glory.”^[386] But this good man dreaded 539even at that time, what he always most earnestly deprecated, that Luxury would, ere long, follow in the train of an highly cultivated state of manners and too sumptuous a style of living: for, he considered an excess of such refinements as leading to that depravity of morals which often accompanies “Luxury,” and, as he has expressed it, “her constant follower, Tyranny.”

The gloomy anticipations, which he sometimes entertained, of a future depression of the interests of learning in his native country, from such causes, he lived not to see realized. There is, indeed, ground on which a reasonable hope may be founded, that, notwithstanding the operation of some inauspicious circumstances, in these times, occasioned by the present distracted state of the political world, literature, science and the arts, will yet be successfully cultivated in the United States of America. Dr. Rittenhouse had the good fortune to live in an age when virtue and talents were honoured; when abilities to serve the country, and an honest attachment to its best interests, were the surest passports to the public confidence and esteem. In the latter years of his life, it was a source of great gratification to him to know that his country was prosperous; it being then in the full enjoyment of all the arts of peace, and other blessings of a well-ordered society. He was greatly respected and esteemed by his illustrious compatriot, Washington; whose magnanimity taught him to spurn with disdain 540all petty considerations, arising from such mere difference of opinion in the speculations of politics, as could neither undermine the principles of a Patriot, nor affect the fidelity of an honest Man. Very many distinguished men, besides, were his contemporaries; and by persons of this description, almost universally, as well as by all his countrymen of every class, to whom his person or character was known, he was held in the highest estimation: indeed, few men ever enjoyed a larger share of the public regard.

Some years after the decease of Dr. Rittenhouse, it was judged expedient to transfer his perishable remains from their first place of sepulture, to another: they were accordingly removed; and interred in the cemetery adjoining the Presbyterian church in Pine-street, Philadelphia, near the body of his son-in-law, Mr. Sergeant. The grave of the celebrated American Astronomer is enclosed, under a plain slab of marble, thus inscribed:

IN MEMORY OF

DAVID RITTENHOUSE,

BORN APRIL 8th, 1732,

DIED JUNE 26th; 1796;

AND

HANNAH RITTENHOUSE,

HIS WIFE,

Who died October 15th,

1799,

Aged 64 years.

541But, although no costly tomb contains the ashes of this eminently-distinguished Man; although no sculptured cenotaph, in any part of his country, blazons his genius or records his fame; and notwithstanding the chisel of the statuary has never been employed in obedience to the public voice, to produce a permanent resemblance of his countenance and figure; yet a monument of more durable nature than any of these, consecrates his virtues, his talents, and his usefulness. A grateful remembrance of his modest worth is enshrined in the hearts of the wise and the good of his own age and country; and the name of David Rittenhouse will be every where perpetuated with veneration and renown, among the sons of science and the benefactors of mankind.

316a. The true interest of the United States, and particularly of Pennsylvania, considered: published in 1786.

336a. The Elements of Universal Erudition, containing an analytical abridgment of the Sciences, Polite Arts, and Belles Lettres; by Baron Bielfeld. In three 8vo. volumes; translated from a Berlin edition, by W. Hooper, M. D. and printed in London, in the year 1770.

336b. The three great Universities of England and Ireland enjoy the right, in addition to many other important privileges, of sending, each, two members to represent them in parliament, Would to heaven! that there were something like a representation of the interests of learning and science, in the legislative bodies of our own country.

348a. Mr. William Cobbett.

358a. In his work entitled, “A Discourse concerning the Being and Attributes of a God, the Obligations of Natural Religion, and the truth and certainty of the Christian Revelation; in answer to Mr. Hobbes, Spinoza, the Author of the Oracles of Reason, and other deniers of natural and revealed Religion.”

365a. The Memorialist can truly say, with the author of the Pursuits of Literature:—“I have given some attention to Mr. Godwin’s work on Political Justice, as conceiving it to be the code of improved modern ethics, morality, and legislation. I confess I looked not for the Republic of Plato, or even for the Oceana of Harrington; but for something different from them all. I looked, indeed, for a superstructure raised on the revolutionary ground of Equality, watered with the Guillotine; and such I found it.” See Pursuits of Literature, Dial. the third, note p. of the seventh Lond. edit.

371a. Dr. Rittenhouse.

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