In expressing his admiration of “that dispositions of lands and seas, which affords a communication between distant regions, and a mutual exchange of benefits,” Dr. Rittenhouse unquestionably had in view a commercial, as well as social, intercourse between the inhabitants of different climes: he was too enlightened a man, not to have been aware of its “benefits.” “A civilized nation, without commerce,” (as the writer of these memoirs had occasion to observe in a former publication,[316a]) “is a solecism in politics. It is in the rudest state of mankind, only, that a people can exist, without any communication with other societies or commercial intercourse among themselves, every one supporting himself by his own labour. Indeed, so absolute a state of nature can only be conceived; but has scarcely existed in reality. The wants, the fears, the weakness, nay the very nature of man, constitute him a social animal: and, in the very origin of society, their mutual necessities, with the various talents, means, and opportunities of individuals for supporting them, must have produced a reciprocity of services, and an occasional interchange with one another of that property, which each had acquired by his own exertions.” Footnote 316a: The true interest of the United States, and particularly of Pennsylvania, considered: published in 1786. Footnote 317: See his Oration. ----- 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 thought health the greatest blessing in the world, but he now thought there was one thing of much greater value, and that was time.”[318] ----- Footnote 318: In the year 1756, he made an eight-day clock, for his brother-in-law, Mr. Barton; over the dial-plate of which, was engraven this mementory motto—_Tempus fugit_; and underneath, this blunt but too often necessary precept—_Go about your business_.