In the years 1784 and 1785, Dr. Rittenhouse and myself were engaged in determining the boundaries between this commonwealth and the state of Virginia; and in the year 1786, in determining the boundary between this commonwealth and the state of New-York. In those arduous employments, I had many opportunities of witnessing his address in overcoming the numerous difficulties we necessarily had to encounter, in the then wilderness, in which our operations were performed.

As a gentleman of general science, Dr. Rittenhouse would have held a respectable rank in any country; but as a Mechanist and Astronomer, he has had but few equals. It has been frequently asked,—why he has not left more evidences of his talents, for the use of posterity? In answer to this question, it is to be observed, that almost from his childhood, he had a complaint in his breast; which increased so much with his age, that for the last fifteen years of his life,—and in which he had the most leisure for composition,—it was painful for him to support the position a person must occupy, when writing. This circumstance I have frequently heard him lament, in a feeling manner; as it prevented him from answering letters with promptitude, and writing to his friends as often as he wished.

Though Dr. Rittenhouse had not the advantage of a liberal education, he wrote not only correctly but with ease: he made himself master of the German language, to which he was partial: and of the French, so far as to read the scientific works in that tongue, with facility.

As an Husband, and a Father, he might be taken as an example and a pattern, in the most virtuous community that ever existed. He was a good Citizen,—and warm and sincere in his friendships; and though reserved in large mixed companies, he was cheerful and communicative, when in a small circle of his friends. His mind appeared formed for contemplation, and therefore not calculated for the noisy and busy scenes of this world: from this placid turn of mind, he had a singular antipathy to all mobs and riots; and I recollect to have heard him speak of the riots of the Paxton-boys, (as they were called,) with greater acrimony than on any other occasion,—more than twenty years after they happened. Being a philanthropist by nature, he wished the happiness and welfare of the whole human race; and viewed slavery, in all its forms, with feelings of horrour: from this attachment to the happiness, the rights, and the liberty of his fellow-creatures, he was led to take an active and useful part in favour of our revolution, which separated the colonies (now the United States,) from the mother-country.

His contemplative mind naturally carried him to piety; but his liberality was so great, that he did not appear to give a very decided preference to any one of the sects into which Christianity is divided: he practised the morality of a sincere Christian, without troubling himself about the dogmas of the different churches.

His manners were plain and unassuming, though not without a sufficient share of dignity; and, from a consciousness of his own talents, he did not envy those of others.

It has too frequently happened, for the honour of science and literature, that men of great and commanding talents, have been obstinately dogmatical, and impatient of contradiction;—of those blemishes, Dr. Rittenhouse had not the least tincture.

To conclude,—if Dr. Rittenhouse was not the greatest man, of the age, his character has fewer blemishes in it; and, if his talents were not of that kind which are usually considered the most brilliant, they were—like those of Washington—of the most solid and useful order.

Some particulars concerning the Residence, the Tomb, &c. of Copernicus: communicated to the late Dr. Rittenhouse, Pres. A. P. S. by the Earl of Buchan.

“In the year 1777,” says his Lordship, “my learned friend John Bernouilli, of Berlin, on one of his tours having happened to meet with the Bishop of Warmia,[[A53]] in the Abbey of Oliva, near Dantzic, was informed by that prelate, that he had the pleasure to discover, in the Cathedral of Frauenburg, the Tomb of Copernicus, so long fruitlessly sought for.