It is, nevertheless, truly astonishing to find an American writer (the late Rev. Mr. Linn,) who, five years after Dr. Rittenhouse’s death, published in Philadelphia, where both resided, a poem entitled, “The Powers of Genius;” but, in which the name of RITTENHOUSE is not once noticed! And yet that gentleman had not omitted to introduce, in one of his notes, an observation which shews, that an European philosopher, also of sublime genius, was present to his mind’s eye!—“From the exhibitions of American talents,” said Mr. Linn, “I indulge the warmest expectations. I behold, in imagination, the NEWTONS, the Miltons, and the Robertsons, of this new world; and I behold the sun of genius” (likewise “in imagination,” it is presumed,) “pouring on our land his meridian beams.” The writer of these memoirs believes Dr. Linn to have been a very worthy, as well as an ingenious man: as such, he regrets his premature death, and entertains a respect for his memory. But he could not, in justice to the merit of Dr. Rittenhouse’s character, pass unnoticed so unaccountable an omission as the one just mentioned, in Dr. Linn’s Poem. ----- It is not meant to be insinuated, however, that Mr. Barton ever gave Mr. Rittenhouse any insight into the knowledge of fluxions; or, indeed, much instruction, if any at all, in other of the higher branches of mathematics: because the first named gentleman never did himself pretend to the character of a profound mathematician; and because, likewise, although always esteemed a man of learning, his pursuits in science and literature were chiefly directed to objects of a different nature. That Mr. Rittenhouse derived some instruction and information from his early acquaintance with Mr. Barton, is certain: but, whatever may have been the extent of the literary advantages which the latter was enabled to confer on his young friend and companion, they could not in any degree derogate from the intrinsic excellence and greatness of our Astronomer’s innate genius. That a mind so formed as that of our young philosopher—situated in life as he was—should have impelled him to assume the business of clock-making, can not be a matter of surprize: this occupation, connected with that of a mathematical instrument maker, is such as may be well supposed to have presented itself to his youthful ingenuity; being in accordance with the philosophical bent of his genius in his early years, while yet untutored in science and unknown to the world. The great utility of the common clock, in measuring time, is universally known. It possesses numerous and manifest advantages, beyond those of sun-dials, clepsydræ, sand-glasses, and other horological instruments, by reason of its vastly superior accuracy: the sun-dial, indeed, is oftentimes wholly useless in all situations, even in the day-time; and always necessarily so, at night.