Sheldon arrived in the time heretofore described as Chicago’s zero hour. The chaotic condition in business affairs impressed him deeply. Frequently it seemed that virtue was without reward; that one’s chances of business success depended upon his willingness to be ruthlessly aggressive and even dishonest if need be. Sheldon valued honor above material gain and revolted against the salesmanship methods he was expected, by his employers, to use. One day his disgust was so overwhelming that he cast his outfit into a convenient gutter and sent his resignation to the house.

The doctrine of caveat emptor was, at the time, applied to the consumer. Ill-will and distrust characterized the attitude of business toward competitors and the welfare of employees was given scant consideration. Sheldon noted, however, that there were certain conspicuous exceptions to the rule; that some of the most fair-minded and liberal business houses were the most successful, and he set out to study the principles which made for success. His studies led him to reverse his previous impressions and eventually to the conclusion that there was but one dependable route to permanent success, and that was the route of service.

What some saw vaguely, Sheldon saw clearly. Success did not depend upon ruthless aggressiveness and selfishness; it was the inevitable result of the application of the law of service which was to him a natural law, as natural and as unerring as the law of gravity. He became an evangelist in the realm of business, as Dwight L. Moody had been in the world of religion. There was, in fact, much in common between these two Chicagoans. Both were fired with the crusader’s passion and with indomitable purpose. Both had captained characteristic Chicago revolts against unrighteousness. Both had roused the dormant powers of resistance.

Sheldon’s ambitions were boundless and his convictions profound. Some of his ideas came like flashes of electricity; others through slow evolution. “He profits most who serves best,” was forged in Sheldon’s brain as he unfolded his long legs and emerged from a barber’s chair in Minneapolis one evening in 1908. Other epigrams have been made and remade, time and time again, during long periods. When uttered, they seemed the inspiration of the moment; they were not — they were the results of soul travail.

The epigram, “He profits most who serves best,” has been the object of much criticism as being too worldly, and also the cause of speculation as to what Sheldon had in mind, pecuniary or spiritual reward.

The writer believes that Sheldon, so far as he himself was concerned, was interested primarily in what might be termed the spiritual reward, but his aim was to bring the maximum of good to the largest possible number. He recognized the fact that the largest number were interested in pecuniary profits and therefore the pecuniary profit-seeking group was the group he desired to reach.

He did not try to destroy the profit motive but rather tried to do that which, to his mind was more practical, that is, sublimate it and regulate it so that it would be of benefit to society at large and also to him who served. If the world’s thinking was to continue to be in terms of profits, he would at least bend his efforts to making profits legitimate. With what some might consider fanatical zeal he contended that profit was as inevitable a consequence of service as heat was the inevitable consequence of fire. The bigger the fire, the greater the heat; the greater the service, the more the profit.

A well-intentioned minister, introducing Sheldon to his congregation in Rochester, New York, once made the mistake of saying that to follow Sheldon’s doctrine would of course not be to one’s financial advantage but that he thought that one would be more compensated by the satisfaction he would experience in realization of the fact that he had done the right thing. This was not Sheldon’s doctrine and it required most of the time allotted him for his speech to beat down the bad effects of his unfortunate introduction.

Sheldon was not forgetful of the spiritual advantage of service; he was keenly alive to it, but he felt that his own special mission was to reconcile man’s prevalent and natural desire for profits with the highest possible ideal of service to humanity. His addresses made a deep impression on some of the members of the Chicago club, and his slogan “He profits most who serves best,” eventually be came the slogan of Rotary.

Rotary’s slogan has been of inestimable value in guiding the course, notwithstanding the fact that it has been forced to divide honors with the still more altruistic concept expressed in the words, “Service above self,” the contribution of Rotarians of Minneapolis.

At the Edinburgh convention in 1921, Sheldon was selected by the program committee as the one best qualified to interpret to British Rotarians the ideal of service as understood in America. The invitation was accepted, and those who heard the message say that it was as of one inspired.

Wherever the English language is spoken, Sheldon students may be found. The writer has been astonished to find many among Rotarian leaders abroad. They are admirably prepared for Rotary responsibilities. Sheldon is as devoted to his ideal today as he was a quarter of a century ago. His most cherished hope at present is, that his courses may be adopted in the public schools in the United States and in all other countries where sympathizers may be found. He realizes that the impressionable youthful mind presents his best opportunity. Sheldon will never retire; it is doubtful whether he will even ease up. His ideals, to him, are life.

The other candidate who was admitted to membership on that memorable evening, is the only national and international secretary the movement has ever known. To many, Ches Perry is Rotary International.

Chesley is a native Chicagoan. He literally grew up with the city, and understands its traditions as few do. He has been, to a great extent, master of his own destinies though he enjoyed the advantages of a cultural background. His love of literature has been a profound influence in his life. He is an omnivorous reader and at present is primarily interested in literature which in one way or another bears upon the objects of Rotary.

During high school days, Ches was president of the literary society and associate editor of the school paper, but he was the recipient of many other honors, such as manager of the baseball and football teams, captain of the military company, and president of Cook County baseball and football leagues, as well.

His love of literature also led him to a connection with the Chicago Pubic Library and to teaching in night-schools. He enlisted in the Spanish American war, returned as first lieutenant, and was afterward promoted to a captaincy. During his military service he acted also as correspondent for several important publications. His various experiences splendidly qualified him for that which eventually became his life’s work — service in Rotary.

Ches’ vision has always been wide enough to comprehend the possibilities. His devotion during a score of years has made Rotary what it is. If ever one has been blessed with the capacity for singleness of purpose, it is he. Morning, noon and night; day in and day out; year in and year out — always the same indomitable will to carry on. He believes in the eight hour shift, but he works two of them; he believes in holidays — one can do so many things on Saturday afternoons, Sundays, on Christmas and New Year’s — so many little things that one finds difficult to reach when one’s office is full of fellow workers, when there are, so many callers and the telephone so frequently interrupts.

“Faithful unto the last little detail,” is what is said of him. It seems providential that Rotary has always had at its helm such a man. What would have been the result had it been otherwise? He might have had the diplomacy of a Talleyrand, the finesse of a Disraeli — what would it have mattered, had he not been faithful to his trust?

Through administration after administration, his work continues. Figures at the directors’ table change, all save one. One man is ever-present, frequently suggesting, never insisting, ready to carry out orders be they well or ill-advised. There are one hundred and fifty thousand beneficiaries of his trust — a sacred obligation, but no one senses it as he. If one were to subtract from his total contribution to the cause that part which might with reason be said to have been compensated, the remainder would still entitle him to place in the front rank of Rotary.

When his services began in Rotary, the force consisted of one part-time man — Ches was that man. Today his staff and assistants are more than one hundred in number. Their devotion to their chief and loyalty to the cause is most pleasing. During depression times salary reductions were accepted as a matter of course. The spirit of the force typifies the spirit of Rotary. To practice what is preached is the genuine desire of all engaged in the service.

While variety in the national origins of employees of American institutions is not uncommon, it is especially noticeable in the headquarters of Rotary International. Fair-haired employees of Teutonic origin mingle in happy accord with fellow employees of Latin extraction. Headquarters become more and more international in character as time goes on.

A number of the staff have been recipients of degrees from universities. Educational requirements have increased as the movement has expanded, cultural education naturally being given first rank. Some members of the staff have three, four, a half dozen, languages at their command. A majority have knowledge of at least two languages. Foreign born and educated members of the staff insure the correct use of idioms in their respective languages.

A useful and interesting office organization known as the Staff Society helps to develop acquaintance and maintain fellowship, promote educational and recreational activities, and keep up the morale of the office.

A recent visitor at headquarters expressed himself as follows: “I found the whole staff of Rotary International in action, nearly a hundred strong and it’s the nearest thing to a bee-hive I ever saw among humans. Here is the throbbing heart of Rotary, the great central organ that pumps the constant, pulsing stream of Rotary achievement and ideals into eighty countries of the world. And here is the vortex where that life-blood comes back to be translated and enriched with direction and inspiration before it goes back into circulation. Mail comes in and goes out mountain-high, much of it in foreign tongues; cables and telegrams flutter like birds; yet with all that high-pressure there is a cordial, friendly feeling of team work and pride in the job. It is the practice, rather than the exception, for the staff of Rotary International to give up Saturdays, Sundays and holidays to the work they feel must be cleared. They preach service, they live it, and they give it. And with full appreciation to a hundred loyal hearts who assist him it is only fair to say that the prime credit for the incredible performance belongs to Chesley R. Perry, Secretary of Rotary International.

“Rotary is a world force, an international fact as well as a factor, and the International offices are worthy of Rotary. Here is a great corporation with a 1934-35 budget of about $764,000 for administrative purposes and $200,000 for “The Rotarian” magazine. Its salary budget, including the President’s office and secretariats in Europe and Asia, but exclusive of the magazine, is $188,000 approximately 30% of the total administrative budget. This figure is 20% lower than what is considered normal and permissible in organization budgets. It is certainly not too high.”

The writer believes that much of the credit which he himself has been given for the success of the movement should have gone to Ches’ account. He is certain that many of his own contributions would have come to naught had it not been for the untiring zeal of his coworker. The writer can truthfully say that throughout the many years of service together, Ches has been more than fair; he has been uniformly generous He has always had the faculty of detaching himself from the consideration and judging all questions in the light of the best interests of Rotary. It is an honor to have been so long associated with such a man.

If there are Rotarians who still think Ches cold and unemotional, I, after more than a quarter century of intimate contact with him, am prepared to testify to the contrary. Some of the deepest and most enduring friendships give little outward manifestation of their presence. Still waters run deep.