Fifteen years elapsed between the publication of the first and second volumes of the Transactions of the American Philosophical Society; and there is an interval of about ten years between the latest of Mr. Rittenhouse’s communications, contained in the first volume, and the earliest in the second. These facts, alone, are sufficient to demonstrate to what a state of depression all philosophical pursuits had sunk, not only during the war of the revolution, but for some years preceding it. It is true, that long before the close of that war, an attempt was made by a few individuals to revive the long interrupted meetings of the Society, at the stated times of their convening; and that, for this purpose, a Charter of Incorporation was granted to the members of that Institution, by an act of the Pennsylvania Legislature, passed the 15th of March 1780: but that act itself contains an acknowledgment of the truth, that, “The Society, after having been long interrupted in their laudable pursuits by the calamities of war and the distresses of our country,” had “found means to revive their design,”—“in hopes of being able to prosecute the same with their former success.” But, at the date of Mr. Rittenhouse’s letter to Mr. Barton, of the 3d of February, 1772,[164] he appears to have been chiefly engaged in his domestic concerns and professional employment. He remained, even then, very sensible of the loss he had sustained in the death of his wife: and his reflections on that circumstance, together with the serious aspect of the times and his frequent indisposition, depressed his mind, occasionally, much below its natural state of cheerfulness. It must have been in one of these hours of mental gloom, that he penned the succeeding passage, in the letter last referred to. ----- Footnote 164: See Note 167. ----- “I do not doubt, my dear Brother, but that you condemn me, as usual, for not writing: but much writing ill suits a Mechanic. After the comfortless toil of the day, when evening comes, I am glad to sooth my mind with a favourite poet, or some other book of amusement. That you may not be disappointed, I would have you to expect nothing of me, in future. I no longer feel any inducement to exert myself: every thing—even life itself—is insipid. Yet you will be told, I suppose, that I am paying my addresses to some one:—I sincerely wish sad experience may never teach you to reconcile these contradictions.” “It is still my intention to go to England, as soon as my business will permit. I have had my health as well as usual, until the last fortnight; but have now a violent cold.” The tenor of this quotation manifests, that our Philosopher did not, at that time, enjoy his accustomed serenity of mind. Some of the causes of his depression of spirits appeared to his friend and correspondent to be of such a nature, as might, perhaps, be removed by a little pleasantry. Under this impression, Mr. Barton, in his answer, thus rallied him: