Page 119 - Demo

In 1783 the founders of the Society of the Cincinnati announced to the world that one of their aims was “to render permanent the cordial affection subsisting among the officers.” Midway through our 237th year it’s time to renew that commitment, along with the more serious ones our founders announced. They wisely recognized that “cordial affection” and “brotherly kindness in all things” went hand in hand with the serious aim of perpetuating the memory of the “vast event” they had just come through.
Cordial affection and brotherly kindness involved benevolence—a favorite eighteenth-century word for good cheer, referring to generous intent (benevolence, in its roots, means good wishes intentions, and is the opposite of malevolence, which means bad wishes or intentions). Benevolence leads
display of courtesy. In the spectrum of eighteenth century emotion, cordial affection was next to love.
A cordial was also then, as now, a sort of drink —a strong one that warmed the spirit and thus symbolized heartfelt friendship. The little man in the Bowles and Carver mezzotint from 1760, Mirth and Friendship, is raising a cordial glass to toast a friend. Mirth—another word dense with meaning in the eighteenth-century that we don’t much use—was another outward manifestation of cordial affection. Mirth is shared happiness and jollity—it requires laughter and lots of it.
The heartfelt laughter of friends was a favorite idea among the Society’s founders. They were like—and imagined themselves like—the heroes
naturally to acts of
charity, and the
Institution of the
Society proposes
that kind of
benevolence when it
speaks of “the most
substantial acts of beneficence,” using a word— beneficence—we rarely use today. As benevolence is good intentions, beneficence is a good thing accomplished. The founders of the Society of the Cincinnati didn’t just pledge to try to be kind to one another. They pledged to be kind to one another. Unfailingly.
Their pledge involved helping one another
in times of need but it also involved personal warmth. Here again we are well served to consider the words of the Institution as they were understood by the founders. To most modern readers the “cordial” in “cordial affection” simply means polite or courteous, but in the eighteenth century the word was much closer to its root, and meant heartfelt or hearty. It reflects a genuine and powerful emotion, not merely an outward
Friendship
Mirth
and
111
in Alexander Pope’s eighteenth-century translation of Homer’s Odyssey, which speaks
of a banquet among friends who, “with keen gust the savory viands share” while “meantime, with genial joy to warm the soul, Bright Helen mixed a mirth-inspiring bowl.”
If the records of early Society gatherings are an accurate reflection of what was going on, we can be certain like the Homer’s heroes they enjoyed many mirth-inspiring bowls together. What was true for them is true for us. We haven’t changed that much. We like a good party as much as they did. And our parties should reflect the spirit of the founders—of cordial affection displayed in mirth and friendship.
That was the spirit of the invitation to this fall’s