University of Virginia Library

7. BOOK VII.

1. CHAP. I.

IT was about an hour before sunset, that
the Captain fell in company with one
who had the Cincinnati eagle at his breast,
and riding on together, put up at the inn.

The landlady and the servants, having
never seen the badge before, were a good
deal struck with the effigy of the eagle, and
the ribband at which it was pendant. Interrogating
Teague, who had come in
company, and whom they took to be a
common servant to both, or at least acquainted
with the affairs of either, what
was the meaning of that bird, or what bird
it was, that the gentleman had at his breast?
Teague knew as little about it as they did;
but unwilling to be thought ignorant, took

upon him to inform them. It is, said he,
a goose; and the maining is, that the
shentleman would ate a goose, if your anours
would get one roasted this avening,
for his anour to ate with the Captain, who
is my master; for we have ate nothing all
day long, and a roasted goose with a shoulder
of mutton, a pace of poark, and bafe
and cabbage, and the like, would be a
very good slake for a fasting stomach. So,
God save your soul, dear honey, and make
haste, and get a goose knocked down and
put to the fire, to keep their anours from
starving, and to go to bed in a good humour,
when they have drank a cup of ale
or a mug of cyder after the goose; and,
bless your soul, dear honey, let it be a
good large fat goose, that there may be a
rib or a wing left, that a poor servant may
have someting to ate, at the same time.
The shentleman was very right to hold out
a token, like the sign of a tavern-keeper,
with a goose, or a pigeon, or a turkey,
that paple may know what he wants, and
not be after the trouble of asking whether
he would chuse roast bafe and parates, or
pork and parsnips, may it plase your anour.

The landlady was a good deal distressed,

having no goose about the house. But
sending out to her neighbours, she made
shift to collect a couple of ducks, which
Teague acknowledged would be a very
good substitute. Supper being ordered,
these were served up, with an apology
from the landlady, that she had not been
able to procure a goose; which she hoped
the gentleman with the ribbon would excuse,
as she was informed that a roasted
goose was so much to his taste. A roasted
goose to my taste! said the officer; what
reason have you to think that a roasted
goose is so much my choice? Surely madam
you cannot mean wit, or to insinuate
that I myself am a goose? for one animal
preys not upon another; the maxim is,
dog will not eat dog. I cannot therefore
be a goose if I eat one.

Here the landlady explained her meaning,
giving the information she had received
from the servant. The Captain was
greatly irritated, and would have called
him in and chastised him instantly, had not
the officer interfered; declaring that though
it was an eagle, not a goose that he wore
at his breast, yet he was not dissatisfied
at the mistake, in as much as it had brought

a couple of good ducks to the table, a fowl
of which he was particularly fond.

This incident, in itself laughable, led
the officer to relate the trouble he had had
with a clergyman who had made a worse
mistake than this, taking the eagle for a
graven image, contrary to the injunction
of the decalogue, which prohibits the making
any such representation for the purpose
of worship, as he alledged this to be.
In answer to the clergyman, he had alledged
the improbability that he who had been
in the service so many years, at a distance
from church, or church worship, except
when a deistical chaplain came the way,
should think so much of religion, as to
have any worship at all; much less to have
become superstitious, and to wear an image
at his bosom. The truth was, that
he worshipped any god, true or false, very
little; at least, said few or no prayers, on
such occasions; and was very far from being
an idolater, and paying adoration to
a gold or silver image; that this was nothing
more than a hieroglyphic, being the
effigies of a bald eagle, which is a native
of America, and designates the cause for
which her soldiery had fought; in the
same manner as the eagle was the standard

of the Roman legion; or the lion and the
unicorn are the arms of England, or the
thistle that of Scotland; that the emblem
of the American bald eagle had, on these
principles, been chosen by the Cincinnati
for their badge; of which society he was
a member, and wore this device, not venerating
it as the image of any bird or
beast whatsoever.

The clergyman admitted, that, in strictness,
this symbol might not be a graven
image, as the term would intend engraving
on wood or metal, with the point of
an instrument; and under this mental reservation,
the wearer might save himself
in saying that it was not a graven image:
but it was at least a molten one, which
comes within the meaning of the prohibition;
being the representation of a fowl,
and doubtless for the purpose of idolatry.
For what else could be the use or meaning
of it. It was not a common broach, used
as a ligament to the shirt or coat; and it
was unworthy of a man to suppose it could
be worn merely for ornament; boys and
petit maitres delighting in these things,
but no one else. It could not be any sort
of time-piece, worn for the purpose of ascertaining
distance. In fact, it was the

portrait of a bird, the signal of some heathen
deity; as the cock was sacred to Escalapius,
the owl to Minerva, the peacock
to Juno, and the dove to Venus. The eagle
was sacred to Jupiter; and it was most
probable, that it was in honour of this
false god, that the image was worn.

It answered no end to reason with the
ecclesiastic; for he grew but the more enraged,
and insisted that it was an idol;
shewing from some texts of scripture, that
in the last times idolaters were to spring
up; and that this society, which the Cincinnati
instituted, might be the Gog and
Magog spoken of in the Apocalypse.

Said the Captain, It was natural enough
for the clergyman to make this deduction;
as in maintaining the cause of truth against
Pagans, he is led to dwell much on the
subject of idolatry. But for my part, the
principal objection that lies with me against
your institution, is that which lies
against all partial institutions whatsoever;
they cut men from the common mass, and
alienate their affections from the whole,
concentring their attachments to a particular
point and interest. A circumstance
of this kind is unfavourable to general
philanthropy, giving a temporary and artifical

credit to those who are of the body,
amongst themselves; so that while some
lend character, others borrow; and the
individuals do not stand on the natural basis
of their own merit. On this principle,
I do not much approve of clubs and societies,
unless in the case of some humane
or charitable institution; or for the purpose
of carrying on some beneficial work
or improvement. I do not know that in
your conveening annually together, you
have any object in view of this nature. I
have not heard of any bridges you have
built, or any canals dug, or locks made for
the purpose of facilitating navigation. I
do not see of what use your institution is;
unless it be, that your pronouncing an oration
now and then, may be favourable to eloquence.
But of this I much doubt, as
such abstract discourses usually degenerate
into common place. The great object of
an orator is, to persuade the judgment, or
affect the passions. In this case, the judgment
is already persuaded, the affections
already gained. Having therefore, no object,
what exertion can the mind make?
Be the cause what it may, certain it is that
such compositions are seldom or ever found
to be models of eloquence; more especially
where the subject is of an extensive
nature, as the revolution of America, and
the struggles of its heroes. For here so
wide a canvass is spread, that it is difficult
to fill it up; and to take a particular part
would seem to be a dereliction of the rest;
for which dereliction no special reason
could be given. You could not embrace
all the characters who have figured or
have fallen, or catch at particular names
of the illustrious. Consining yourself,
therefore, to general observations, you
make no particular impression, and your
orations become frigid to the hearers.

I have felt the truth of all this, said the
Cincinnati gentleman, and the difficulty of
composing an oration to satisfy my own
wishes. For being appointed by the society
to pronounce one at our next meeting,
to which I am now on my way, I
have been trying my hand at it, and find
it as you say, very difficult; but have attributed
this, not to the nature of the
composition; but to the inferiority of my
powers. Not so, said the Captain; for in
the hands of the greatest masters, this kind
of composition labours. We do not find
that even the oration of Isocrates, on the
Lacedemonian war, which he was ten

years in composing, has obtained such celebrity
among the ancients, as such great
labour would bespeak. I have read the
panegyric of Trajan, by Pliny; and find
it but a cold composition. Plato's oration
in honour of those who had fallen in the
battles of Marathon and Platea, is the best
of this kind that antiquity can produce,
and doubtless has great excellence of simplicity
of painting. The touches are delicate
and fine, and I do not know but we may
place it among the most beautiful productions.
It amuses with magic wildness of
fancy, at the same time, restrained and
guided by an exquisite judgment. But it
is rather a poem than an harangue. For
though the composition is in prose, yet it
breathes the soul of a bard, and is inchanting
by the flow of the words, and the elevation
of the images. In modern times,
the best thing we have of this nature, is
the panegyric of Cromwell, supposed to be
written by the great Milton, but not delivered.
The ingenuity discovered in the
mode of praising him, deserves every possible
commendation. But the greater part
of addresses that I have seen to great men
now-a-days, or orations on public occasions,
are turgid, or jejune, or little worth
our notice.

After this, said the Cincinnati gentleman,
I shall hesitate to show you the essay
I have made towards a composition of this
nature, as you appear to be so good a judge
in this respect, and to know the deficiencies
that may appear in any effort of this kind.

Nay, rather, said the Captain, you ought
to be the more confident in so doing; for
knowing the difficulty of the work, I shall
be the more ready to excuse what comes
short of perfection.

I shall then take the liberty, said the
Cincinnati gentleman, to read you a few
paragraphs. I shall be happy to hear it,
said the Captain. The Cincinnati gentleman
read as follows:

Compatriots—I wish to say those
things that never have been said, and that
never will be said again. Because, in this
case, there will be the characteristics of
novelty and singularity; the two great
constituents of pleasure, in all intellectual
entertainments. But what can I say new?
Has not the whole world resounded with
the justness of the cause in which we have
been engaged; with the greatness of the
attempt to withstand the power of Britain?

And have not we, ourselves, felt, seen,
and known the great variety and change
of good or bad fortune? What will it contribute
to our immediate enjoyment to go
over such scenes, unless the particular achievements
of each officer can be enumerated,
which decency forbids, and which
indeed, cannot be done in the limits of
one harangue. Leaving, therefore, ourselves,
and these scenes, wholly out of
the question, let us speak a little of those
whom we left behind. But why need we
speak; for all time will speak of them.
The bards that shall live, will draw hence
their choicest allusions. Consider them,
indeed, as more happy than you, because
they ascended from among the group of
their companions, who were at that time
instant witnesses of their achievments. The
warriors who fall in battle, are the most
glorious subjects of panegyric. Hector and
Achilles, form the most splendid part of the
song of Homer, and in a great degree, because
their bodies were interred in the presence
of the two armies. Oh what a noble
object! an army mourning a brave officer,
and tears drawn even from the foe, struck
with the sublime of his personal prowess,
and excellent knowledge of the military art.
Much unlike, and far above those who languish
with sickness on a bed in calm life,
where relations standing round, wish the
departure of the shade, and gape for the
possession which he leaves behind. But
the fame of a soldier none but himself can
enjoy, there can be no heir or devisee of
his property. It is his own, and it mounts
with him. His blood only remains to
bless the earth, from which flowers and
roses spring, and clothe the woods and
groves with enchantment and delight. For
here the song of poesy is awakened, and at
morn, and noon, and at still eve, they are
heard who rehearse where the brave fell,
and where they sleep. Sublime spirits!
whether you inhabit the Pagan elysium
or the Christian heaven, you are happy;
and listen to those immortal lyres which
are strung to the deeds of heroes.

So much for the exordium of the oration;
it was all he had yet written. The
evening passed away in hilarity; and the
conversation turned again on the Cincinnati
order; but particularly what may be called
the arms of the institution, viz. Britannia
represented as a fine woman, with
her bosom bare, affrighted; and Cincinnatus,
an accoutred knight, attacking her

thus unarmed, as St. George did the dragon;
the eagle, the bird of Jove, in the
mean time grasping the lightning in his
claws, an image that would seem unnatural:
Whereas the eagle might be represented
in the clouds near Jove, where the
lightning might be left to work its forked
course, without the handing of the eagle;
and in the other figure, Cincinnatus might
raise his lance against the lion that supports
the crown, not against the goddess of the
island.

From these strictures which the Captain,
without pretending to be a connoisseur,
made, the transition was easy to a criticism
on the motto of the badge; viz.
Omnia reliquit, servare, rempublicam. The
infinitive is here used instead of the gerund,
with the preposition, ad servandam;
as if it was intended to express his motion,
or change of place, and not the object.
But in fact, the motto does not at all express
that in which the merit of Cincinnatus
did consist. It was not in his leaving
every thing to accept the commission of
the Roman senate; but in resigning his
commission, and, the work done, going to
his plough again. His praise would have
been expressed better by the phrase of,

Victor ad aratrum redit. In fact, it cannot
apply well to our army; most of our
officers not having much to leave when
they accepted their commissions; but discovered
a Cincinnati-like disposition, in returning
after war to the employments of
civil life. It is true, there would have
been less tinsel, and more bullion, in the
patriotism of retiring without a badge, as
Cincinnatus did: But it is a thing that can
do little harm, and it is pleasing to indulge
a whim.

It may doubtless be said, that there were
officers that left the plough, and fought,
and returned to it, as well as those who
are within the limitations of the institution,
and entitled to a badge; that, troops
who had served a short enlistment, and
militia persons, at least those who fought
a little, were not wholly destitute of some
claim to the badge of merit. Even those
who lost property might be said to suffer,
and advance pretensions to the reward of
honour. Not that all of them should claim
gold medals, or even silver; but some
brass, some copper, pewter, a bit of tin,
or pot metal, just as the specific value of
their services might entitle them. Perhaps
while some wore it at the breast, others

might be enjoined to war it at the
breeches pocket, and thus, as well by the
point from which appendant, as by the bob
itself, designate the proportion of their
honour.

After this, some things were said on the
subject of introducing honourary members;
against which the Captain declared
himself: That every thing ought to be
preserved sui generis; as nature makes no
honourary animals; but all are of the species,
or take not the name: a bear is a
real bear, a sheep is a sheep; and there is
no commixture of name, where there is
a difference of nature. But it did not appear
to be of any great consequence, one
way or the other. For the order would
never come to any great head, as there
was no opposition given. For this is necessary
to keep alive attachment to what is
arbitrary, and founded, not in utility, but
caprice. For as the fire dies without air,
so whim without contradiction.

The officer was a man of liberality and
good sense, and acknowledged the truth
of this. But the evening being now far
spent, candles were called for, and they
went to bed.