Genesis of Rotary

“From quiet homes and first beginning,

Out to the undiscovered ends,

There’s nothing worth the wear of winning

But laughter and the love of friends.”
—HILAIRE BELLOC

If one standing on a promontory of time could have donned his metaphysical spectacles revealing thoughts and deeds standing out in the affairs of men, as stately trees stand out in landscapes, he would have observed a memorable struggle for existence — the persistent and irresistible “Will to Be” of an ideal, which eventually found expression in Rotary, Kiwanis, Lions clubs, and a dozen kindred organizations.

As white corpuscles defend the human blood against the ravages of disease, so the constructive forces of cooperation, tolerance, courage, and brotherly love will eventually overcome selfishness, envy, intolerance, hatred, and fear the most destructive enemies of the social order.

In the city by the lake, a drama was to be enacted, the importance of which could not have been foreseen. The dramatis personae were men of the ordinary walks of life; business and professional men.

While lacking qualities which would have distinguished them from others of their kind, it may nevertheless be said that they were fairly representative of what in common parlance would have been termed “the better element.” They were natural products of the times and subject to its usual frailties. All had imbibed American traditions in the public schools and some had been taught them at the fireside.

All were friendly and congenial and each represented a recognized and honorable vocation different from that of the others. In some respects they were widely variant. They had been selected without regard to religious, racial, or political differences. The group included members of American, German, Swedish, and Irish ancestry, and representatives of the Protestant, Catholic, and Jewish faiths, all products of the American melting-pot, and in that respect, fitting progenitors of the international order which they were to bring into being.

There was Silvester, a coal dealer, our first president; he was of German parentage. His was a kindly nature and his face was wont to light up with pleasure on meeting friends.

He told interesting stories of his boyhood home on an Indiana farm, revealing the picture of a log cabin and family group around the fireplace. He told of the hardships of early life; for example, of the snow that used to pelt through the chinks in the roof of the attic in which he slept, forming miniature drifts upon the floor. He treasured the memory of early days. Though his life in Chicago had been a struggle, he had managed to be helpful to the younger members of his family.

He had responded to his country’s call in its time of need, serving in Cuba during the Spanish-American war. Clearly he was eligible. Succeeding years have demonstrated the wisdom of the selection; Silvester fills a worthy place, and his life becomes increasingly useful with advancing years. He is the center of community activities and church work, the key man in charitable undertakings. Many young men have him to thank for years of wise counsel. Many crippled children have him to thank for physical rehabilitation. To Silvester every human need is a command. His telephone rings night and day, but he is never too tired to respond although his health is not always the best, and he is very tired at times. During the early days of the depression, and until the charities in his part of the city were put on an organized basis, Silvester’s office was made to serve as a clearing-house, and many hundred needy were given relief.

While Silvester’s most manifest contribution to the common weal has been through community service, his contribution through vocational service, that is, in the management of his own business has been scarcely less commendable. His “turn over” among employees has always been negligible, though he has had many trying cases to deal with.

His foreman in charge, who has been many years in Silvester’s service, never fails to avail himself of every opportunity to speak a good word of his boss. More than once he has told the writer that if anything ever happens to the “Old Man” to make it necessary for him to discontinue the management of the business, he will terminate his service, because he never could be satisfied to work for another after having worked so long for the “Old Man." Silvester’s record in community service, vocational service, as a humanitarian, neighbor and friend, will stand a lot of beating, as the English put it. To put it in other words, it is a splendid exemplification of the doctrine of Rotary in action. In the very early days of Rotary, Silvester sponsored the reading of papers on the respective vocations of the members. Was it the beginning of the vocational service activity in Rotary? Perhaps not, but it certainly was in perfect keeping with the developments which came further on.

There was another of German parentage; Gustavus, a promoter. His personality challenged attention. His was a rare combination, the good in him easily outweighing the bad. He was a stormy petrel, vehement, impetuous, imperative, domineering, in one breath; then calm, docile, and lovable in the next. He was always thought compelling; his words were spoken with lightning like rapidity, and with such force that men frequently stopped in the street to look at him. His educational advantages had been limited, but his English was classical.

Where he found the vocabulary with which to give his furious thoughts expression, was a quandary. Gus’ membership was of brief duration. The feverish ups and downs of business resulted first in his resignation from membership, and a few years later in his death. Requiescat in pace. Dear Gus, you rested little while here.

Hiram, a merchant tailor who hailed from the state of Maine, was of the number. He was an agreeable fellow. He had never quite reconciled himself to life in a large city; in fact, through all the years his thoughts have constantly reverted to the state of his nativity. There he spends his summer vacations, and to the rock-ribbed state of Maine he will eventually return to spend his remaining days.

Hiram, due to circumstances beyond his control, did not retain his membership in the club, though he has frequently manifested interest in the movement and shown that he cherishes the memory of the early days.

All doubts as to his sociability were soon dissipated. He proved to be the most friendly of all. When in the company of his Rotary friends, his cup of joy ran over. He was responsible for the introduction of song in club programs; in no other way could he adequately express his happiness in the Rotary fellowship. A rare soul indeed, is our Harry.

One of Rotary’s best known song leaders advances the four following reasons for the inclusion of group singing, in Rotary: first — it promotes fellowship, second — it recreates, third — it stimulates interest in music, and fourth — if songs are selected which fit in with the purposes for which the meeting is called, it serves to prepare the minds of the members for the message which is to follow.

The writer is in accord with the above, and drawing upon his own experiences, is prepared to say that speakers frequently find inspiration in the music which precedes their efforts, assuming of course, that suitable selections have been made.

If a suitable selection has not been made, the songs may serve to disturb the composure of the speaker and thereby impair his effectiveness. Many an inexperienced speaker has been thrown completely off his stride and moved to substitute an extemporaneous speech for one carefully prepared, in a desperate effort to adjust himself to the spirit of the meeting. Much responsibility rests upon the shoulders of the song leader; it is not infrequently within his power to make or break a meeting.

The only thing about the early Christians which baffled Pliny’s understanding was their psalm singing.

Plato said: “Through music the soul learns harmony and rhythm, and even a disposition to justice, for can he who is harmoniously constituted ever be unjust? Is not this why music and harmony find their way into the secret places of our soul, bearing grace in their movements and making the soul graceful? Music moulds character and therefore shares in determining social and political issues.”

Damon said: “When modes of music change, the fundamental laws of the state change with them. Music is valuable not only because it brings refinement of feeling and character, but also because it preserves and restores health.”

Dr. William Chalmers Covert, moderator of the Presbyterian Church of America, pleads for a tidal wave of hymn singing as the best available means of restoring the spiritual power of the Christian church. There is no doubt in the mind of the writer that song has awakened the spiritual forces in Rotary as nothing else could have.

Singing is not indulged in by Rotary clubs of some countries and all clubs are given full privilege to do as they please about including it in their programs. Possibly there are temperamental differences between people of different countries which have a bearing. Perhaps not. Time will tell.

Long may you live to revel in the companionship of your friends, Harry. We of the old guard know that long after the last note of the “Stein Song,” sung in response to your baton shall have died away, memory of your warm, friendly spirit will be kept green.

Bill, whose vocation is the real estate business, entered the charmed circle as number six. He was our first secretary.

Quiet, unassuming affability was his dominant characteristic. There were no rough corners on Bill. When his sorrows came, he faced them with characteristic serenity.

Al, a manufacturer of folding organs, could not have been denied membership after one had glimpsed his twinkling eye and sensed his humor. He was our second president. He suffered a stroke some years ago, but he has never permitted his affliction to break his spirit; he is the same old Al. Suddenly removed from a life of activity to a life of immobility, he remains undisturbed and proclaiming his happiness to his more fortunate friends.

It was necessary, of course, to give each member of the little group a nickname. “Boy Orator” was the sobriquet given Charlie. Its fitness was made manifest during the course of arguments on constitutional questions. Charlie had his own ideas as to what constituted good Rotary, and he took them seriously. Incidentally he was the unofficial recorder of the club. His private records admirably reveal the spirit of the period. Were it not for his foresight, there would be little in the form of written word to remind one of the happy days of 1905.

“Doc” was a town man and a bachelor, the Beau Brummel of early Rotary. He was the envy of the unsophisticated young men from the country. He knew what clothes to wear and how to wear them, but he was no mere manikin; he was a real he-man, and a remarkable horseman

One of the most picturesque figures to be seen on the bridle paths along Chicago boulevards was that of our ‘Doc.” For twenty- five years, he seldom missed a morning except in midwinter; it mattered not how late he had retired the night before. The Chicago club has always stood in the forefront with respect to the warmth of its greeting to non-resident Rotarians. There is but one reason for the distinction, and that is to be found in the person of warm-hearted, genial “Doc.” He served faithfully twenty- six years, and went to sleep one night, never to awake again.

Rufus was a banker. The name Rufus was happily and most naturally changed to “Rough-house” in Rotary circles. The appropriateness of the change will be apparent to all who know Rufe as the most quiet and inoffensive gentleman imaginable. He is the treasurer of Rotary International, a position he has held for a quarter of a century. His friends are legion.

Of all his outstanding characteristics, none has been more marked than that of his love for his mother. He is a town man and a bachelor and as long as his mother lived, she was his constant companion. Together they attended all international conventions, receptions, and parties. He had no other chum. He was always a good fellow; as a son he was wonderful. Rufe has been confined to his apartment during the past three years as a result of a nervous disorder, but he has gallantly risen above his misfortune and is as buoyant and hopeful as ever. He astonished the writer recently by stating that he considered his physical disability one of life’s great experiences, one he would not like to have missed. In Rufus’ case, also, it is manifest that the spirit has been triumphant over the flesh. What an example he has set for us. No ill can affect one so splendidly equipped.

There was Barney the undertaker. It required little imagination on the part of him who tagged Barney with the pseudonym, “Cupid” — he is such a roly-poly individual and his quiver is always full of arrows. When he lets them fly, they are very likely to reach their mark —  human heart.

Cupid had no children to fasten his affections upon, but he was no stranger to conjugal bliss. One sad morning after a brief illness, his life’s partner left him.

The great question among Cupid’s many friends in Rotary was, “How will he bear up under the deepest sorrow ever visited upon any man?” How would he, who by reason of his vocation had lived so much amid the shadows, carry on now that his own day of darkness had come?

His friends were not held long in suspense. Cupid conducted the funeral and was unusually solicitous as to the comfort of his Rotarian friends assembled to make manifest the sympathy with which their hearts overflowed. When the last rite had been per formed, Cupid stepped forward and his face was almost radiant as he took his last, long, lingering look, and the writer who stood nearby heard his softly whispered words, “Goodbye Gertie.”

But of the days after: to many it is the days after, that count. For more than six years Cupid lived alone in the big apartment where he and Gert had lived so happily together. During that entire period things were left just as she had placed them. Under Cupid’s instructions her room was swept and dusted, and her bed linen changed just as had been their custom.

When Rotarians called, they were cordially received and they were always welcome; but when Cupid learned that some of his friends were calling with unusual frequency because they feared he might be lonesome, he assured them that he was not lonesome; that he was quite happy. The indisputable fact was that Cupid and Gert were living together as before. Eventually he went to Europe, wandered about on the continent for several months quite alone, then returned to Chicago and took up the threads of business life again.

Freddie is big, hale and hearty, and possesses a magnetic personality; his manifest geniality impresses even the passing stranger. Men stop on the street, take a second look at him, smile broadly and pass on. Waiters in restaurants, shop-keepers, and news boys give him special service and attention. Their service is spontaneous. Wherever he goes he gets the best of everything. What does he give in return? Nothing, that he is conscious of. He is just him self — genial, kindly old Freddie, and he looks the part. He never learned how to be a gentleman; he didn’t need to; he was born that way.

His greeting is more than cordial; he glows with enthusiasm. His parting is no less impressive. He hands the departing one his hat; holds his overcoat; pulls his undercoat down; and starts him off with a vigorous handshake and a “Goodbye, Laddie.” If Freddie has ever had a grouch, none can recall it.

But can one be all that Freddie appears to be, and still be sincere? Is his manner not a veneer merely put on for the accomplishment of a purpose, and then cast off as soon as the purpose has been served? No, Freddie’s manner is not a veneer; he has no repertoire of mannerisms.

His greeting to me today will be his greeting to you tomorrow, and what is more, it is his daily greeting to the members of his family. His courtesy to his sons at the breakfast table is no less marked than his courtesy to an honored friend.

But how about the employees at his factory? A man may be courteous to his friends, kind to his family, and yet be a brute to his employees. It is said of Charles M. Schwab that his employees call him Charlie. It would be lese-majesty in some institutions for an employee to call his big boss, “Charlie.” Dignity has its place but it can be made a fetish. If Freddie had been dependent upon dignity with which to maintain discipline, he would have made a mess of it. Not being overstocked with dignity, he substitutes something else — brotherly love; with that, his cup fairly runneth over.

Before his own fiery furnaces, where grimy men work with gigantic ladles of molten metal, he may at times be seen, like some big bear, cuffing his men about to their mutual delectation. But how about discipline? Can it be maintained, or will it eventually be destroyed by indulgence in such incongruous unconventionalities? It’s a difficult question to answer. Freddie’s business has only been running a little more than a quarter century, but it can truthfully be said that during that period there has never been even the semblance of a strike, the boss’ idiosyncrasies notwithstanding. The payroll has lengthened from two names to seven hundred, and the business is still growing so rapidly that additions to the plant have to be built every few years. The last time the writer walked with Fred between his batteries of pounding machines, happiness seemed to be trailing in his wake. Every face wore a smile. There was no intimation of impending trouble. After all, there must be a boss, and where could another be found like good old Freddie?

Friends of the writer sometimes call upon him for assistance. Some young man coming to Chicago needs a job. The writer generally knows where one can be found, if the applicant is right. He puts in a call for Freddie, tells him his tale of woe, and presto change, there is a new man on the job in Freddie’s factory.

A crippled boy, who proved to be a bad actor, some years ago was sent to Freddie. Three times he jumped his job and bummed his way, twice to New Orleans, once to Washington, D. C. Three times he was forgiven and started on the straight path again. Verily, you are a wonder, Freddie.

To employers of labor who have tried every other expedient — division of profits, stock purchases on favorable terms, medical dispensaries, dental clinics, hospitals, night schools, lectures, concerts, play-grounds, better housing, and so forth in the modern manner, (all of which reflect everlasting credit upon the business men of this generation) and yet have failed — to such I would say, “Try one more expedient. Put a little of Freddie’s salve on your industrial disturbances.” The essence of it is humanity, friendliness, brotherhood, goodwill. It may not effect a cure, but in no event can it possibly do harm.

Freddie was not merely sympathetic with the extension of Rotary outside of Chicago. He actually participated in it, notably in New York. Of the New York Club Freddie is known as the founder.

What of this attribute which we term personality? Is personality merely good or bad, charming or disagreeable, as the case may be; or is there a deeper significance? Is personality not a manner of window through which men’s souls may be seen?

Personality has power to uplift, power to depress, power to curse, and power to bless. Personality commits murder at times. Not always in momentary passion frequently coolly, deliberately; murder by inches. A thrust is made at the breakfast table, another at lunch, a third at the evening meal, and little jabs during the long hours of the night. The flowers that bloom in cheeks begin to fade — the first indication that a personality homicide is in progress. They do not all have venue at the fireside, though the most dastardly of them take place there.

They may occur in factory, office, warehouse, church, school, and in the market place. Personality homicides recognize no sanctuary. How devastating may be the blights of sorrow which follow in the wake of frowns.

Personality’s power to bless is made manifest daily, hourly, in every nation, city, and town; in home, factory, and in all places where men and women congregate.

Gracious and pleasing personalities enrich and sweeten life. Your personality has been a benediction to me at times, Freddie.

In the immortal words of Harry Lauder, “Long may your lum reek.”

“Personality is to a man what perfume is to a flower.”
—CHARLES M. SCHWAB,
in “Ten Commandments of Success.’

There were others of the first year’s group worthy of special mention. Doc Hawley, an eye, ear, nose and throat specialist, a gentleman of culture; Doc had a warm heart and he was very responsive to human needs. In the very early days he delivered an address before the club on handicapped children, and on another occasion took up a collection for one who was in sore distress. Doc Baxter, an eminent physician who had studied abroad, and who later endowed his alma mater; Bob, an architect whose hobby was work in the interest of libraries; and big genial Harry — then a manufacturer, now retired — but a regular attendant at Rotary club meetings, either in Chicago or in California where he spends a part of his time; John, a decorator; Max, a furniture dealer; and Charlie, a florist who expressed his good-will in flowers, one for each plate; a cross-section, so far as it went, of the big town, each representing an honorable calling differing from all others in the membership; each viewing it as a special privilege to be selected as the representative of his vocation, and appreciative of the responsibility incident thereto; each with a broad catholicity of outlook, and a lover of his fellowmen. There were no drones in the 1905 group.

Everyone was interested and busy. Practically every member contributed some one or more serviceable ideas. Several of these ideas are in operation today; for example, the mid-day meeting, the practice of using photographs in rosters, the presentation of papers on vocational subjects, and many others.

When dinner meetings became a feature, a ‘Know Your Chicago” campaign was begun, and meetings were held in all of the important hotels scattered throughout the entire city in systematic sequence, the ladies of the members frequently participating in the enjoyment of these social and educational pilgrimages.

Several of the members had been raised on farms, and the majority were of the class of country and small town boy who in search of fortune had gravitated to the city. While not self-made men, they were in the process of making, and most of them had made sufficient progress to justify the assumption that success in considerable degree was to be realized in the future. Some had received the benefits of college education; more had not.

The lives of most of them had not been easy. From early childhood they had been taught to work. Two opposite concepts of life had been pointed out to them by their kind but not indulgent parents, in order that they might make wise selection between the two. There was the shiftless, happy-go-lucky, devil-may-care concept, the goal of which might be the poor-house, and surely would result in loss of self-esteem. On the other hand, there was the ambitious, industrious concept which would probably lead to a position of influence, power, and the respect of the community, as well.

The parents of the members of the group had been self-sacrificing fathers and mothers, wrapped up in the future of their children, and none respected them more than did the beneficiaries of their kindly ministrations. That being the case, parental instruction and admonitions had been more than mere words; they had made deep and lasting impression.

When these young men entered business, their objective was to carry out the wishes of their parents; to be credits to them; in short, to achieve success. Those of the number who came from the country had been woefully lonely at times, their unruly thoughts flying away to the green fields and the happy companionship of boyhood. Streets paved with cobblestones had been sorry substitutes for green pastures. Those from the country had frequently spent Sundays and holidays rambling about, gazing upon restless throngs and dreaming of happier days climbing hills with congenial friends.

The best time and place for a country-bred boy to be lonesome is on a Sunday afternoon in a city park, where unknown people swarm in search of amusement. One need never be lonesome, in the country amidst God’s green hills, or loitering alongside babbling brooks, with the air full of songs of birds and fragrant with the odors of mint and balsam. City parks give sweltering humanity opportunity to breathe on hot, sultry afternoons, and bring happiness in abundance to those who have not been reared to better things.

Others of the group were city-bred and they had fared much better; they were adjusted to their environment, but they appreciated good fellowship, and they also were led by the star — Success.

Personal ambition had been largely responsible for the grouping. United they would stand; divided they might fall. And so they helped each other in every way that kindly heart and friendly spirit could suggest. In the main, the efforts were directed to helping each other in business — helping each other to attain success. They patronized each other whenever it was practicable to do so, extended helpful influence and gave wise counsel, when needed. There being no two members of the same vocation, mutual assistance was very practicable.

The purposes of early Rotary have been frequently described as selfish, and so indeed they may seem to have been. There are, however, those who have designated their days as members of the Chicago club in 1905 as the sweetest and most selfless of their lives. Whether a member was selfish or unselfish depended, of course, upon where he found his happiness. If he found it primarily in gaining advantage for himself, he was selfish. If he found it in helping his friends, he was unselfish. Naturally both types of mind were represented in the early days of club number one, as is true everywhere.

In order that they might post themselves as to the business lives of fellow members, their meetings were held in their offices. They rotated from office to office and largely by reason of that practice, adopted the name Rotary.

Some realized the business advantages sought; others did not. All realized the advantages of friendship

In the social desert of a city, they possessed an oasis all their own. To it the chosen few came to revel in the delights of friendly communion. No longer would any of them have occasion to dream in city parks and public places of happy days gone by; the “Happy days had come again.”

Their meetings were different from meetings of other clubs of the day; they were far more intimate, far more friendly. First names were always used, while “Misters” and all other prefixes which might in any way interfere with the free flow of spirits, were banned. They became boys once again.

Sir Henry Braddon, Australian Rotarian, has said:

“One way in which Rotary develops the individual is in preserving the boy in him. Deep down in the heart of every good fellow there is a boy, a boy whose outlook on life is rather wonderful, unspoiled, with no prejudice, no intolerance, with keen enthusiasm, ready friendliness. and all those qualities that we love to see. But as the years go on the boy is apt to become submerged, and it is a sad day for the man when the boy can be said to have passed away. Age is not a matter of figures on the baptismal register; it is a condition of mind, very largely. When our ideals weaken, our enthusiasms wane; when we become cynical, over-engrossed, then we have become old, no matter what the exact tale of our years. As long as a man keeps his mind resilient, his nature open to friendly influences, he will never grow entirely old, and Rotary encourages and helps to develop him by keeping the boy alive in him.”

The postulate that all men had been created free and equal had so natural a part in the thinking of the first of Rotarians that it was accepted without discussion. Protestant, Catholic, and Jew; American, German, Swede, Irishman and what-not, mingled together in happy accord. They had embarked upon a glorious adventure.

Clubs with memberships based upon racial and religious qualifications there were in plenty. To begin with, there were clubs composed entirely of those of Protestant ancestry, to which neither Jews nor Catholics need apply. Jews and Catholics, also gregarious in nature, had clubs of their own. The Turnverein societies supplied the needs of the Germans, and innumerable other racial groups formed in all parts of the city. In business, sports, and to a great extent in the schools, the melting-pot was working; but in social life it fell short. While native Americans were loyal to the principles of freedom and equality in business and political life, they were not disposed to give it sufficiently liberal construction to jeopardize social distinctions. It was one thing to give the children of poor immigrants educational advantages, quite a different thing to throw their doors open to the poor immigrants themselves. The result, most naturally, was that the children advanced more rapidly than their elders in inter-racial understanding.

There is charm in the friendship of men of one’s own way of thinking, men who have inherited the same tendencies, the same strong points and even the same weaknesses; but there is also charm in the friendship of men whose experiences and inherited tendencies are different. They are like books which excite curiosity and wonder.

The 1905 members of the Rotary Club of Chicago, so valued the friendship of their fellow-members that they put a ban upon religious and political discussions, fearing that they might become disturbing factors, and they were richly rewarded for their foresight. There was plenty of dynamite in questions which might have been raised; but they were not raised. The formula was very simple; it read, “GO about your common tasks together, avoid discussions of dissentious subjects, and your reward will be friendship.” The formula was worthy of adoption in much wider circles.

The sparkling wit of the Irishman vied with the quaint humor of the Jews, to the delectation of the members whose ancestry represented a galaxy of nations. Acquaintance is the great intermediary; it soothes troubled spirits, subdues unworthy suspicion, and as a rule eventually ripens into friendship.

  “One man is as good as another — and a great deal better, as the Irish philosopher said.”
—Thackeray.

Unfortunately there are some folks in the world who actually cherish ancient and hereditary animosities, fanning the flame of century-old hatreds as matters of religious or racial duty. They habitually speak evil of representatives of countries other than their own, and in fact, seldom speak a kindly word of anyone even of those who are supposed to be their friends. It is a matter of habit largely, and Rotary associations tend to bring about the substitution of friendly sentiment for unfriendly sentiment.

But how dwarfed the soul of those who recognize no virtue save within the membership of their own little group or sect. They still live in the atmosphere of the Middle Ages.

They know nothing of the problems of this world because they are not of this world. Their heroes are of the dead past. They sequester themselves lest they become contaminated. Contributing nothing, they gain nothing; theirs only to criticize those who work. Ideals which they hug close to themselves, they deny to others. Even their own virtues seem vices when displayed by others. Their holy evangelism becomes despicable proselytism when exercised by others.

In the clashes between ignorance and intelligence, ignorance is generally the aggressor. To attempt to superimpose its views through the exercise of force, is seldom the part of intelligence; it is frequently the part of ignorance. The less one knows, the more he thinks he knows, and the more willing he is to employ any and all measures to enforce his views upon others. The stocks, and the many other means of inflicting physical and mental anguish were the devices of ignorance. The story of the aggressions of ignorance against intelligence can never be told.

The way to put an end to these indefensible practices is to promote intercourse between members of different sects and citizens of different nations.

Segregation never brought anyone anything except trouble. If there is discord in a community, be it religious or racial, the most certain way of fomenting it is by saying, You remain on your side of the deadline and we will remain on ours. Ours is an Anglo-Saxon community, and we want to keep it just that. We will continue to live on the east side of the tracks, you on the west. There you may build as many churches as you please and have things all your own way, so you leave us alone.

When an individual, a sect, a clique or a nation hates and despises another individual, sect, clique or nation, he or they simply do not know the objects of their hatred. Ignorance is at the bottom of it. Ignorance is a menace to peace. The higher the general average of intelligence, all things else being equal, the less the disposition to be meddlesome, critical, and overbearing. Individuals and nations owe it to themselves and the world to become informed.

Even the most bigoted of zealots have come to see that religious differences can not be ironed out through process of law; they are also slowly learning that they can not be ironed out through the exercise of social pressure.

Rotary’s program of promoting better understanding between different racial groups and between devotees to different religious faiths, so simply and yet so auspiciously begun in the year 1905 has met with greater success thus far than the negotiations of diplomats. It has been the way of Rotary to focus thought upon matters in which members are in agreement, rather than upon matters in which they are in disagreement. Rotary has satisfactorily demonstrated the fact that friendship can easily hurdle national and religious boundary lines.

One’s religion is one’s own possession and he has a right to it. One’s nativity is not of his own choosing, but whatever it may be, it is entitled to respect; and all nations have honorable place in the world’s family.

Insularity induces the superiority complex, and the superiority complex is responsible for much trouble. Permanent superiority has never been realized by any nation in history. After the rise comes the fall.

The nation that is supreme above all others during one age, will be eclipsed by another in the next age. The very strength of a nation eventually proves to be its weakness. After maturity comes old age; after ripeness comes decay. It is nature’s law and can not be repealed or overthrown. He who makes the eagle scream, the lion roar, the bear growl, is not doing his country a service; he is probably not even trying to; he is in all probability trying to do himself a service; he is doing his country a disservice. There is, however, a species of homo sapiens even more pitiable; it is those who, when traveling abroad, rise superior to the country to which they owe allegiance and expose its weaknesses to sympathetic and admiring throngs.

The writer is an American and has no apologies to make for that fact. He grants all others the privilege of proclaiming allegiance to the countries to which they owe it. No one ever rises in the writer’s esteem through disloyalty to his country, whosesoever it may be. One ought to love his country so well that he will resolve never to create enemies for it, nor subject his fellow countrymen to ridicule through proclaiming the land of his allegiance, “God’s own country.” One may manifest his own ignorance in that manner, but insult is a poor means of winning friendship. The best way to win the esteem of others is by observing the simple rules of decency. If they won’t accomplish the desired result, nothing will.

Obviously the only possible means of holding together the little group of Rotarians of 1905, consisting as it did of men of variant racial origins and religious faiths, was through the exercise of tolerance. Proselytism had no place; it would have wrecked the movement in its inception.

Sir Wilfred Grenfell says that it is the height of impertinence for anyone to criticize the manner in which another keeps in touch with God.

Through following this simple plan all went well. So far as the writer was concerned it imposed no hardship. He was of conservative New England stock, his ancestry being traceable to the Pilgrim fathers; but as heretofore said, New England sentiment had undergone much change since Mayflower days.

In the Vermont village where the writer spent his boyhood days, there was one Jew and one Catholic priest. They were both friends of his father who greatly, valued their friendship. Mr. Pincus was the clothier, and the separation from his kind seemed no sorrow to him; his flow of spirits was ever ready and enjoyable. The writer also has happy recollections of friendly chats between his father and the priest, whose garden adjoined. He is satisfied that they experienced a special zest in their contacts growing out of the very fact that their backgrounds were so entirely different.

Then again, a few years later, while attending college, the writer happened to be the victim of a painful accident in which a priest whom he did not know, played a Samaritan part. The writer had been thrown from a carriage and had landed on his face and stomach in front of a Catholic church. When he regained consciousness, his head was being supported by the priest, who was holding a glass of wine to the writer’s lips. With such experiences lingering in memory, tolerance came naturally.

Charles Lamb, pointing to a man across the street, said to a friend: “I don’t like that man.” To which his friend answered: “Why, I didn’t know that you were acquainted with him.” Lamb whimsically rejoined: “I am not acquainted with him; that’s why I don’t like him.” How true it is that dislike vanishes in the light of acquaintance. The best guaranty of world peace is world understanding.

There are few fundamental differences between races of men. All venerate justice, honor, integrity, and love; all despise injustice, dishonor, dishonesty, and hatred. Without acquaintance it is human to ascribe unworthy motives; with acquaintance it is human to do the opposite. With acquaintance ripened into friendship, the chances of dissension are remote.

How strange it is that murder has the sanction of law in one and only one of the human relationships, and that is the most important of all, that of nation to nation. If we resort to arms to settle personal grievances, we must suffer a penalty. As nations, we glorify and idealize wholesale murder. In the relationship of man to man, we must be gentlemen or forfeit the esteem of our countrymen; in the relationship of nation to nation, we must be brutes, or forfeit their esteem. The condition represents the great outstanding blotch upon civilization. Soon may the long-looked-for, long-prayed understanding come.

So Rotary continued in its own sweet, self-centered way. Winds blew and storms raged without, but within, all was well. Could the Bard of Ayr have visited the group, he would have wondered how so much happiness and merriment could be possible without the use of the friendly cup. It would have been necessary to explain that the cup had fallen into bad hands in the U.S.A. Rotary has never taken sides on the prohibition question, but Rotary gatherings have been characterized in all countries for sobriety

Drunkenness has been practically unknown in Rotary circles. International conventions and district conferences where large numbers of Rotarians are gathered together, constitute striking contrasts with meetings of many other organizations whose members view such occasions primarily as opportunities to celebrate their temporary release from restrictions which hamper them in their home towns where they have reputations to maintain.

John Sullivan and Jack Murphy were the forerunners of a fine line of Catholic Rotarians. . . Max Wolff and Max Goldenberg were the first of an equally fine line of Jewish Rotarians. In course of time, as the movement grew and spread, Christian Scientists, Mormons, Mohammedans, Buddhists, and many others have been added to the list, in living demonstration of the fact that religious and racial homogeneity is not a sine qua non to friendly intercourse. Catholic priests, Jewish rabbis, and Protestant ministers sit together at Rotary meetings, singing songs and indulging in happy fellowship. Many thoughtful and ably written articles on Rotary have appeared from time to time in the Christian Science Monitor, and the Mormon church has been represented in the Salt Lake City Rotary Club by its highest officials. Religious organizations work in complete harmony with Rotary and many clubs in the smaller communities, where the facilities offered by hotels and restaurants are inadequate, have their luncheons or dinners in church parlors, where they are served the best of meals by the ladies of the church to whom the opportunity of earning money with which to support church activities, is welcome.

The writer and his wife, while visiting a Rotary club in a small southern city, fell into the hands of a reception committee consisting of a Presbyterian minister, who was the president of the local club, and a Catholic priest, then the vice-president. It would be difficult to find better friends. The Presbyterian’s sentences frequently ended with an appeal to the Catholic in the words, “Isn’t that so, Gene?”

At the close of the day, the writer said to the president, “You know there is always a mountain peak in every town I visit, Charlie, and the mountain peak to me today is the love of a Presbyterian minister for a Catholic priest.” President Charlie’s answer was, “I am glad to hear you say that, Paul. My love of Gene is indeed genuine.” Then he continued: “I have just been talking to him, and what I said was this: ‘You know, Gene, my little girl is to be operated on at the hospital tomorrow morning at nine o’clock. They say it is a minor operation, but there are no minor operations when our loved ones are concerned. Tomorrow morning at nine o’clock I want you, Gene, to be on your knees praying for my baby.’ Gene’s answer was, ‘Charlie, I’ll be there.’” In this beautiful relationship, all of the cumulative animosity of generations had been wrung out and tender sympathy and affection only, remained.

Rotary has become an integrating factor. Whether the New England fathers have turned in their graves is a question; perhaps they have been rejoicing with us.

With thoughts and deeds no more pretentious than those above related, the life of a movement, which was destined to circumnavigate the globe with incredible speed and make itself at home in all civilized nations, had its beginning. Some of the early members even now in this day of wondrous achievement and bright promise still hark back to the delightful intimacy of friendship which was at its best in the dear old days.

Well have the members of the 19O5 group hung together; death only has been successful in separating them.

Small wonder that many were disposed to leave well enough alone; to remain content basking in each others smiles, and leaving the world to drift along according to its own will. They had built well enough to suit themselves. They had built on the most substantial of all foundations — goodwill and friendship.

The germ of Rotary might have been confined in its tiny shell; but it was not destined so to be. Fantastic dreams of a Rotary far-flung and adjusted to much broader purpose, yet retaining all its pristine vigor and loveliness, had disturbed the complacent serenity. It was a Utopian dream and commanded scant sympathy. It would have been unreasonable to expect practical business men to risk all that had meant so much to them, to the rash experiments of a dreamer; and yet ideas and ideals, if they are worthwhile, have the habit of living.

Schopenhauer in his “Ethics of Love,” reduces love to its biologic purpose, the propagation of the species.

Humiliating as the tenet may be to the romantic lover, it is manifest that the “will to be” of the unborn babe, makes vassals of its parents.

Perhaps in the birth and development of Rotary to its present vantage point, there has been an ever-present, unalterable, irresistible destiny, to which all members have been and still are subject, in the face of which man is impotent and personalities fade.