“My friends, I have been entranced by the splendid spirit displayed this evening. I have shared with you the elation of the hour.

“You field workers have inspired us by recounting the blessings that have been showered upon you by the thousands of grateful recipients of your services, while we have freshened your drooping enthusiasm and reinforced your ardour by transmitting from your millions of members at home their hopes and prayers that you will ‘Carry On.’ The determination of all the guests to transform these hopes into definite actions seems to have changed this table into an altar at which to pledge ourselves to assume this new task of further brothering those who are still crying for help.”

Next day, on the train for Cannes, when Davison called Chanler Anderson and myself into conference, I again stated that, as we had the moral, scientific, educational, and sociological experts of nearly all the world mobilized and ready for further work, it would be criminal negligence not to make use of such an unprecedented opportunity. Davison agreed as to fundamentals, but was afraid that too big a programme would frighten away the representatives of other nations. We could have the larger goal in mind, he said, and hope ultimately to reach it, but we must commence with something concrete in the conventional way to secure the coöperation of the non-American delegates.

Notwithstanding this, the Cannes Conference was an inspiring experience.

Here we were gathered from all parts of the world, exchanging condolences for the terrible ravages suffered by the various nations, watching intently, and waiting with deep fear in our hearts the outcome of the developments in Paris, hoping and praying that some definite good would result from this war, bewildered at our inability to recognize any definite signs of a coming solution, conscious that the old-fashioned diplomacy was eclipsing the modern thoughts and aims of the progressive, disinterested members at the Conference. We felt that perhaps true democracy could only exist, as it did at our Conference, where every man was chosen on account of his individual merit, and not on account of birth, or political pull, or influence; and some of us thought that, perhaps, after all, the improvement of the world would have to be brought about by a non-political body of men, whose right to serve arose from their own qualifications, and whose tenure of service would not be influenced by constant changes in government. It dawned upon us that, perhaps, these millions of members of the Red Cross Societies all over the world, with the many more millions that would join them, could undertake to establish a permanent organization that would put into practical execution all the teachings of religion, science, education, medicine, hygiene, and sociology. While those in Paris were rearranging the boundaries, we were trying to develop the universal spirit of service to all humanity which would recognize no boundaries, or class distinctions, or religious differences.

Under the presidency of Dr. Émile Roux, the worthy successor of Pasteur, it became a Congress of Scientists. Leading members of the medical profession in the Associated Nations were there, and the same tone of unselfish interest on behalf of humanity that I had found among the American representatives prevailed. Rivalries, envies, personal ambitions were totally absent; there was none of the crossing and double-crossing, scheming and misrepresentation of a political convention. These fine intellects were making a genuine effort to create an agency through which all discoveries in medicine and hygiene could be utilized for the benefit of mankind without thoughts of royalties or patents. It was a revelation to a practical business man, and I sincerely wished that more business men could profit by such an experience with practical idealists.

In private talks some of the delegates from the different countries responded wonderfully to my suggested plan, but they had been stunned by the war and were bewildered by the resultant chaos and depended on the United States to take the lead. Another thing discouraged me: no representatives were present from the general educational, sociological, or philanthropic worlds, and the best of men must necessarily see life through the glasses of their own profession. Consequently, I was not surprised, though I was disappointed, by the adoption of Colonel Strong’s programme.

It was what his remarks in Paris had indicated. Early activities were to be limited to those of an international health and statistical bureau. The Conference decided that the international societies should deal only with general hygienic improvement and child-welfare, and that even in these matters the central organization, instead of doing the actual work, should leave that to the constituent league members and confine itself to the development of policies and the collection of statistics.

The question remained: who was to be the executive of this still potentially important force?

Throughout the Conference Davison was recognized as its organizing and directing spirit. It was a delight to see him in action, to note his quick response to suggestions, his prompt absorption of committee reports, his analysis of technical addresses. Devoting the full measure of his great ability to the work, he was performing it admirably and enjoying the performance. Everything depended upon the choice of a director-general; yet here was the very man to maintain vitality in this organism: why should he not remain the leader?