The first meeting was held at the residence of the Minister for Foreign Affairs on December 5, 1915, when plans were discussed. In an address which I made on this occasion I expressed my idea of the significance of the society as follows:
"The founding of the Society is an indication of the entry of China into full coöperation in modern scientific work. This initial step foreshadows a continuous effort through which the experience and knowledge of China will be made scientifically available to the world at large. The voice of China will be heard, her experience considered, and her institutions understood by the world at large; she will be represented in the scientific councils. At home the work of such an association, if successful, should result in a clearer conception of national character and destiny. The knowledge gained by its work would be of great value in constructive administrative reform. But its greatest service would lie in the manner in which it would contribute to a more deep and more definite national self-consciousness...."
Virtually all the Chinese officials, of modern education, as well as many teachers and publicists, interested themselves in the new society. The idea was supported by men of all nations; alongside of Americans like Doctor Goodnow, Doctors W.W. and W.F. Willoughby, and Dr. Henry C. Adams, were the British, Dr. George Morrison, Sir Robert Bredon, Professor Bevan, and Mr. B. Lenox Simpson; the French, M. Mazot and M. Padoux; the Russians, M. Konovalov and Baron Staël-Holstein; and the Japanese, Professor Ariga. The society thereafter held regular meetings, at which valuable addresses and discussions were given; it published a quarterly review, and it established the first library in Peking for the use of officials, students, and the public in general.
Through the assistance of the Prime Minister, Mr. Hsu Hsi-chang, a portion of the Imperial City was set aside for use by the library—a centrally situated enclosure, called the Court of the Guardian Gods. This had been used as a depository for all the paraphernalia of Imperial ceremonies, such as lanterns, banners, emblems, state carriages, and catafalques. When I first visited it, large stores of these objects still remained. They were not of a substantial kind, but such as are constructed or made over specially for each occasion; and, while they were quite interesting, they had no intrinsic value. That the officials and the Imperial Family should combine to set aside so valuable an area for a modern scientific purpose was an indication that China is moving.
Attached to the French Legation was the brilliant sinologist Paul Pelliot, whose explorations in Turkestan had secured such great treasures for the French museums and the Bibliothèque Nationale. Though he acted officially as military attaché, M. Pelliot really had a far broader function, being liaison officer between French and Chinese culture.
Before the war the Germans had an educational attaché. On account of the close relationship between Chinese and American education through the thousands of American returned students, I strongly urged the appointment of an attaché who could give his attention to educational affairs. I was so pressed with other business that hundreds of invitations to address educational bodies throughout China had to go unaccepted. If there had been an assistant who could have met the Chinese on these occasions, he could have been exceedingly helpful to them. But I was told from Washington that there was no provision for an attaché with such functions.
The intimate feeling of coöperation between the British and American communities expressed itself in many meetings, in some of which the Chinese, too, participated. Thus, on December 8, 1917, there was held a reception of the English-speaking returned students. The Minister for Foreign Affairs; a number of his counsellors; the British minister, Sir John Jordan, and his staff; the American Legation; the missionaries; all who had received their education in the United States or Great Britain, were here present. It was a large company that gathered in the hall of the Y.M.C.A., including a great many Chinese women.
The hum of the preliminary conversation was suddenly interrupted by a loud voice issuing from a young man who had hoisted himself on a chair in the centre of the room. He proceeded to give directions for the systematic promotion of sociability and conversation. The Chinese guests were to join hands and form a circle around the room, facing inward; within that circle the British and American guests were to join hands, forming a circle facing outward. At the given word the outer circle was to revolve to the right, the inner circle to the left. At the word "halt," everyone was to engage his or her vis-à-vis in conversation. To eliminate every risk of stalemate, the topics for conversation were given out, one for each stop of the revolving line, the last being: "My Greatest Secret."
The young man who proposed this thoroughly American system of breaking the ice had just come out from Wisconsin, and it was his business to secure the proper mixing in miscellaneous gatherings. The British seemed at first somewhat aghast at the prospect of this rotary and perambulatory conversation; yet they quite readily fell in with the idea, and when the first word of halt was given, I noticed Sir John duly making conversation with a simpering little Chinese girl opposite him.
A little later, in December, there was formed an Anglo-American Club, which celebrated its début with a dinner at the Hotel of Four Nations. This was the beginning of the closest relationship that has ever existed between the Americans and British in the Far East. In my brief speech I expressed my genuine feeling of satisfaction that this coöperation should have come about.