PART III

Begins the Practice of Law

THERE was no reason whatever for the selection of Chicago as the field of endeavor except its reputation for social unrest; rather a flimsy reason for the selection of a city in which to live. Yes, there must have been some romance left. Paul obtained a license to practice law and rented desk and room in an office; soon he rented a small suite of offices in an obscure building, sub-letting the other offices, at a figure which made his own office practically free. He uniformly over-estimated his prospective income and under-estimated his prospective outgo. He was frequently surprised at times to learn on how small an income a man could live and retain his standing as a lawyer in a great city. But he was one of many. One of his associates, Lewis Dalton, a graduate of an Indiana university, had learned much about hard times in Chicago and he gave Paul many valuable pointers; for instance, he introduced him to a place down a half-flight of stairs on Fifth Avenue which Lew had appropriately named “Hell’s Half Kitchen.” Its chief recommendation lay in the fact that it dispensed a “stack of wheats” with syrup for the modest sum of a nickel. It was an excellent place to get breakfast.

For a time, Lew slept nights in a livery stable on a bed which was occupied during the day by a hack driver. It was a tip top arrangement, and Lew would have made the livery stable his permanent home had he not happened to leave his office early one afternoon to dress for a party and found that the driver had borrowed his Prince Albert coat to wear while driving the hearse at a funeral. Lew contended that the driver was carrying things too far.

The year 1896 was one of great financial depression throughout the United States, and particularly in Chicago which was suffering the reaction from overbuilding during the World’s Fair. Half of the stores and apartments in some parts of the city were vacant. Dishonesty and corruption were the order of the day.

There was no special red-light district in Chicago at the time. The district encompassed the whole city, especially the loop, or down-town section. The statement that conditions have been worse in Chicago during the last few years than ever before has been frequently made. The authors of such statements should have seen the Chicago of 1896.

Business Ethics on Furlough

Nor were commercial conditions better than social conditions. There was an epidemic of fraud during the years immediately preceding the passage of the bankruptcy act of 1898; and extending for some years thereafter. The bankruptcy law did not affect the volume of frauds unless to increase it, but it affected the manner in which they were conducted and the way in which defrauded creditors sought redress.

There is no great loss without some small gain. The epidemic of fraud made business for lawyers. The courts worked overtime issuing attachment and replevin writs.

To the credit of the American people be it said that the perpetrators of commercial frauds were mostly foreigners; unfortunately they controlled many of the retail lines of trade.

Incendiarism was one of the favorite methods of reaping where there had been no sowing; but the most popular method of procedure was through making purchases to the limit of all possible credit and following up with a quick getaway during the course of the night.

There were two great auction houses in the downtown district of Chicago to which large portions of the goods obtained by fraud eventually found their way; in a great many in stances, having been taken there direct. Huge moving-vans bearing no inscriptions or other marks of identification, would move at midnight into the alley in the rear of the store to be gutted and then before daylight they would proceed into another alley in the rear of an auction house within the capacious walls of which the night’s booty would soon be engulfed.

Credit men of wholesale houses began to develop an uncanny sense in the detection of fraudulent intent. If a prospective buyer sought to buy goods of too high class for the demands of the trade of the locality in which they were ostensibly to be sold, if he sought to buy in unjustifiable quantities or if there were other suspicious circumstances, acceptance of the order would be refused.

Not infrequently, the circumstance of suspicion would not come to light until after the sale and delivery of the goods and in such instances, the practice was to summon a lawyer who would sue out a replevin or attachment writ on giving adequate bond.

Then if the proprietor refused to surrender the goods, they would be forcibly retaken and returned to the shelves of their former owner. Sometimes the defendant would seriously contest the suit at law and if successful, sue on the bond, but such instances were rare; the suspicions were generally justified and the malefactor was willing to call quits rather than submit his case to judge or jury, who, on account of the prevalence of this form of misdemeanor, were likely to prove to be uncomfortably wise.

Occasionally the officers of the law would meet with armed resistance when attempting to levy, but resistance was seldom successful. Plate-glass windows were frequently shattered in making entrance, doors kicked in, and barricades broken down by the men armed with legal authority.

The passage of the federal bankruptcy law rendered it unnecessary for the perpetrators of commercial frauds to terminate residence. They remained in their happy homes and defied their creditors. The spirit of “He profits most who serves best” was conspicuous in its absence and “Get while the getting is good” was the slogan of the day.

During the early years of his practice, Paul was a member of a co-partnership consisting of himself, Elroy N. Clark, a graduate of the University of Vermont and Georgetown University and Lewis S. Dalton, but the firm was dissolved on the departure of Clark, who accepted an opening in United States Senator Wilcott’s firm in Denver of which he subsequently became one of the partners. Dalton lost his life in a blizzard while on an expedition into the mountains of Colorado a year or two later.

Better Times

Financial and business conditions in Chicago began gradually to improve in 1900 as they did in most other parts of the country. Nearly everyone who had any license to fail had done so and the bankruptcy act had washed their sins away. Times couldn’t continue to be as bad as they had been. With improving financial and business conditions came also improvement in moral conditions. The closing of wine-rooms and assignation houses operating in the downtown districts resulted in the segregation of vice in certain limited areas and even the red-light resorts were padlocked when the State’s Attorney satisfied his mind that the people really. wanted them closed. All of the big gambling-houses had long since vanished and there was little left to remind one of the dissolute days. Surreptitious vice and gambling of course still continued, but on a greatly diminished scale.

With the return of prosperity came also a general cleaning up of the physical conditions of the town. Streets which even in the down town districts had been impassable at times, because of mud and water were paved and even the squalor of the Ghetto and of South Halstead Street seemed less pronounced. It was the day of “the full dinner-pail.”

Adventures in Chicago

Paul had mingled with pretty nearly every class of society and even tried his hand at politics but he neither liked the game nor the company he found there. He had studied social conditions in the slums and had seriously contemplated taking up residence there for further study at close range. The way people lived was of great interest to him. He might easily have gone off on that tangent but the way was not open and he lacked the determination and steadfastness of purpose to create an opening. In one way and another during his stay in Chicago he had seen much of life and, in the final analysis, that was what he had most desired.

He had no love in his heart for the cobble stones of downtown Chicago and he spent Sundays and holidays when the weather permitted, on the green grass of the parks, but he frequently longed for the mountains, the sparkling lakes, singing brooks, and the intimate friendships of his boyhood days.

Bohemian Days

As Paul’s income increased so did his ways of spending money. His curiosity did not abate in the least. He still desired to see life in all of its irregularities as well as regularities. He obtained membership in the Press club, dined frequently with such celebrities as Opie Read, Boiling Johnson, Colonel Visseher, Press Woodruff, Forrest Crissey and other men of literary attainments. He also wrote quite a number of short stories for a newspaper syndicate.

His knowledge of the Bohemian life of the city was second to none. He knew every Italian, Greek, German, and Hungarian restaurant and delighted in guiding his out-of- town friends about the city.

On Sundays he frequently attended church services in Central Church during the pastorates of Newell Dwight Hulls and Frank Gunsaulus but he did not confine his attendance to Central Church. It was not at all unusual for him to attend the services of various denominations—Ethical Culture, Christian Science, Catholic, Quaker, Theosophical, Bahite, Jewish, Methodist, Presbyterian, Baptist, and Congregational. He enjoyed them, every one, and for all he could see, each was striving to attain the same end.

While he loved to study life in general, he was particularly anxious to know the “ins and outs” of his own city. To facilitate his studies of different localities he made frequent changes of residence, a practical solution of the problem so long as he remained unmarried but impracticable thereafter. During his fifteen years of bachelor life he resided in thirty different parts of Chicago and neighboring suburbs. Up to the very day of his marriage he was setting new records for change of domicile. Paul claims the long-distance championship in this regard, in fact, he sampled every thing from Hell’s Half Kitchen up. Business considerations prevented his adopting a migratory plan of office occupancy. There was always one address at which he could be found.

Of the many lawyers, young and old, who from time to time have been associated with Paul during his thirty-two years of practice, a small minority only have made good. The majority have stumbled along and eventually fallen by the roadside. The fierce competition in the most competitive of all vocations in a large city is too much for the average of men. In such combat the mental and physical resources of all are put to the severest test; there heredity, breeding, environment, all count; not infrequently the preparation which seems to be the poorest proves to be the best; the seemingly best to be the poorest. The severe discipline of poverty frequently provides the stamina essential to success. The upstart from the Ghetto frequently outstrips the highly educated scion of ancient American families even though the latter be backed up by powerful influence.

Paul has never occupied any position other than that of the official head of the office though this fact is not to his credit. He would have done far better and would have saved himself many hard knocks had he associated himself at the beginning with some well-established firm—but he was a stranger at the time in a great city and had not the slightest conception where it was best to take hold.

Among those who have been associated with Paul during approximately one-third of a century of practice should be named Mr. Joseph J. Parker, who was a member of Paul’s organization for more than ten years.

Mr. Parker was of about the age of Paul’s father but the association was intimate and very advantageous to Paul. “Little Joe”, as he was called in Canton, Ohio, from whence he came to Chicago late in life, had been a partner of Judge Day who subsequently was appointed justice of the Supreme Court of the United States. As an indication of the high esteem in which Parker’s ability was held, it might be proper to state that when Mr. McKinley went to Washington to become president of the United States, he selected Parker to try all of the cases still remaining on his calendar.

Obviously Parker could have associated himself with any Chicago law office he might have selected. He came to Paul’s as a result of a friendship which arose from their having been thrown together in literary pursuits.

In this respect also the older man was of great help to the younger, as he opened up many new fields. Parker was a deep student of French and Russian literature. To his mind Balzac was the most realistic of all character delineators; Dostoevsky had the best understanding of the emotions, especially those aroused by human suffering. He refused Dickens a place in his affections.

Parker’s love of general literature was not permitted to interfere with his study of the law. His mind absorbed the salient features of a case with almost uncanny celerity. His genius lay in his apparently intuitive ability to “separate the wheat from the chaff” or as he used to express it, to “dispel the fog.”

To his mind most cases hinged on one point; his task it was to locate the point. The result was that he never wasted the time or the patience of the court in the presentation of false issues.

Judge Day, years before, had established a precedent which Paul was glad to follow. He always gave “Little Joe” the laboring oar in serious cases.

Mr. Parker tried many later cases before his eventual breakdown which came during the year of 1922. He had prepared at that time for the trial of an important will case but he proved unable to carry on. The old violin had played its last tune.

The Conception of Rotary

On an occasion during the summer of 1900, Paul was invited to dine with a lawyer friend, who lived in Rogers Park, and after dinner he and his friend took a walk, during the course of which they called on several neighborhood stores and shops of various kinds and at each visit his friend introduced him to the proprietor. Paul was deeply impressed with the events of the evening walk. His host had evidently found a good many friends among the business men in his neighborhood.

Paul’s clients were business friends but they were not social friends, and he wondered if there were any reason why he could not make social friends of his business friends, at least of some of them. He conceived of a group of business men banded together socially; then he thought that there would be an especial advantage in each member having exclusive representation of his particular trade or profession. The members would be mutually helpful.

He resolved to organize such a club. Who should be asked to join? Of one thing he was certain—they must be friendly men. He thought of his client, Silvester Schiele, the coal man, and Gustavus Loehr, mining engineer, and then he thought of Harry Ruggles, a printer who had been supplying the needs of his office. All these were approachable, friendly men. Then he thought of others who did not seem to pass the test.

He talked matters over with Schiele and also with Gus. [In 1938, 9 years before Paul Harris died; Schiele wrote an article in The Rotarian about his early conversations regarding Paul's ideas] He liked them both and thought they would like each other, and on the first convenient occasion he introduced them. They did like each other. There was much in the past lives of the two men to justify the belief that they would understand each other and enjoy each other’s companionship. Both had come to Chicago from small communities, Silvester from Clay City, Indiana, and Gus from Carlinville, Illinois. Both were of German parentage and each had worked his way unaided to the establishment of a profitable business in a great city.

On the night of February 23, 1905, the first meeting took place at Gus’ office in the Unity Building. Silvester and Paul had dined together at an Italian restaurant on Chicago’s near north side. Gus, by prearrangement, had invited a personal friend, Hiram Shorey, a merchant tailor, a native of the village of Litchfield, in the State of Maine, to whom he had previously introduced Paul. The meeting was enlivened by the relation of personal experiences, after which Paul unfolded the general purposes of his plan.

The significant occurrence of the second meeting was the introduction of Harry Ruggles, the printer. Harry was destined to play an important part in the life of the Chicago club, for through his suggestion of club singing his influence has been made felt by the entire movement.

The spirit of the early days of Rotary has frequently been described as selfish. There were certainly many indications to justify the description. The literature of the period, most of which was the work of Paul, emphasized the business advantage of membership. Prospective members were frequently appealed to directly on the basis of business gain. But even here is a distinction, subtle though it may seem. The prevailing thought was to give—not to receive. Giving was more reconcilable with the other thing that went along with it—friendship.

The net result was that those who came into the club for the sole purpose of getting as much as they could out of it were disappointed and dropped out.

It is true that some actually have realized substantial business benefits from their membership in Rotary, but that may be said of the members of almost any other club. Many have realized no business benefits whatever, and the one class is as well satisfied as the other. Viewed from a financial standpoint Rotary has been a liability to Paul, not an asset. Few would contend that the spirit of the Rotary of today is selfish. No more was it selfish in the first year of the movement. The lure of Rotary has ever been the friendships that have been found there. By none has friendship been more highly valued than by the first group who gathered together in the year of our Lord, 1905.

During the course of one of the early meetings, Paul suggested several possible names for the new club. Among others—Rotary. It met with general favor and was adopted forthwith. The significance of the name be comes apparent on examination of the original plan of the club, which provided for rotation in the place of meeting, in the chairmanship, and even in membership which was to be continued for one year only. The last named provision was an expedient to insure attendance, it being thought that sustained interest in attention to club duties would be assured if continued membership were made to depend upon re-election. Members were fined 50 cents for failure to attend meetings, and no excuses were given consideration. The proceeds of the fines imposed paid all expenses of running the club.

The Club Becomes a Movement

The membership grew rapidly. It was composed entirely of men who had. fought their way unaided. Almost every member had come to Chicago from a farm or small village. Rotary afforded the first real opportunity to enjoy the intimate first-name acquaintance reminiscent of boyhood days far from the madding crowds. To such, Rotary was an oasis in a desert.

The club progressed consistently, and its spirit was all that could have been desired. It became manifest to Paul that his plan was destined to prove a great success, and his ambitions began to expand in proportion to his increasing confidence. A new sense of responsibility arose within him. The thought that a program suited to a small group of friends might not be suitable to an important movement dawned upon his consciousness. Rotary must go forward, and it must have something substantial to offer.

The Chicago club having gained considerable headway, Paul became candidate for the presidency at the beginning of the third year. He had thus far pushed and was ready to begin to pull. His election followed and he took office. He had three distinct ambitions—first, to advance the growth of the Chicago club; second, to extend the movement to other cities; third, to add community service to the club objectives.

Rotarians frequently, on their first meeting with Paul, congratulate him on the growth of the organization, and then say, “I guess you little thought during the early days that the movement would spread throughout the world.” Not infrequently, one hears the expression “They builded better than they knew.” All of which tends at least, to show that the popular impression is that the spread of Rotary was unforeseen, and to a great extent accidental.

Nothing could be farther from the truth; the plan was painstakingly wrought out and earnestly put into execution.

A second club was founded in San Francisco. Others followed until in 1910 there were fourteen clubs. The decision was reached that the existing clubs should be united into an organization, which would not only assume the responsibility for further extension work, but serve as a clearing house for the exchange of helpful ideas among the clubs. A set of resolutions were adopted by each existing Rotary club, by which each agreed to be represented in a Convention called for the purpose of affecting the organization and maintenance of a national association of Rotary clubs, and pledged its moral and financial support. The call for the Convention was issued, the program developed, attendance promoted, newspaper publicity secured, and on August 15, 1910, the first convention of Rotary assembled in Chicago. The delegates were in session practically three days and two nights. On the last day Paul was elected President of the new organization and with him was elected a Board of nine Directors from as many different clubs.

During the first year of the life of the national association, most of the efforts were directed toward extension work in the United States. These were busy days with Paul and yet he could see the need of many things which he could not find time to attend to. The result was that he devoted his efforts to those needs which seemed most imperative. He was harassed with doubts as to whether his appraisal of the comparative importance of the needs was well made. At times it seemed to him that he ought to have devoted his own efforts to the formation of a more complete philosophy for the new movement, leaving extension and other considerations to care for themselves, or to be worked out later. But extension was urgent, opportunities were constantly demanding his attention.

Activity, then Retirement

At the second convention, held in Portland, Oregon, Paul was re-elected as President and another busy year of development and extension followed. As Paul’s second term of office drew toward a close he realized that his activities were nearly over, and he was ready to retire. His health had not been good for sometime; in fact he had just strength enough to see him through. He worked feverishly to consolidate the positions occupied by the organization, not only throughout the United States, but in Canada and Great Britain and Ireland. The climax of seven long, intense years of devotion to an ideal came to Paul during the summer of 1912. It was with a sense of relief, though, it must be admitted, with some sorrow, that Paul in Duluth at the third convention yielded the creature of his imagination to the succeeding administration. He had done his bit and was ready to retire.

He was fortunate in having just become settled in his home on the wooded hill where rest and quiet were possible. There are times when country-bred men get homesick for the country. It seemed good indeed, to have a rest.

He determined to continue to follow the affairs of Rotary, study ways of improvement, write articles from time to time, and render service in as inconspicuous and unobtrusive manner as possible. The path of duty coincided with the path of his natural desires. All things considered, he still believes that his conclusions were sound. He is thoroughly satisfied that the course adopted was the best calculated to bring out the resources of the men who were to follow.

There has, however, been one reaction which has not been entirely favorable. Considerable speculation has been engendered as to who and what Paul Harris is. Why does he not attend international conventions? Has he lost faith in Rotary or is he unsympathetic What is the matter?

Slowly but progressively came the rumor that he was physically incapacitated, and some, on meeting him, expressed surprise that he was still up and able to be around. Other Rotarians have at times even thought it probable that his retirement was part a deep laid plan to introduce the charm of mysticism into the picture as an appeal to the imagination of those mystically inclined.

One of the purposes of this story is to clear up the mystery. It is the result of a demand which has been increasingly insistent for some years. For a long time Paul entertained hopes that someone else would undertake the task. He experienced a natural reluctance about writing his own memoirs. The writer has always been appreciative of the sentiments which dictated a demand for the story of his own life, and of the inception of Rotary. To those who were familiar with the work which Paul was doing, there was no mystery. They knew of the many demands which were made upon him and how he was responding to them.

Parenthood

Of course, the outstanding event in the life of Paul was the birth of his charming daughter. Had she never been born, his life, though eventful and more or less colorful, would nevertheless have been simply one of many. He would have gone to his grave in course of time mourned by a few, but unsung except by the mixed quartette from the neighborhood church. Emerson has given us his immortal essay, “Compensation,” whereby we learn that, in the final accounting, all things balance, for every up there is a down, for every hot a cold, for the good a bad, for sorrow a happiness, and so many a mediocre parent has been blessed by a glorious offspring. So it has been with Paul, his life has been made worthwhile through the birth of the child of his imagination, his glorious daughter who was christened on the evening of February 23, 1905, under the nondescript name, Rotary.

Before daughter had even attained her majority, her fame had encircled the world and the precocious minx has now enrolled one hundred and thirty odd thousand enthusiastic lovers, staid and stable citizens of forty-three nations who make bold to say that there never has been another such and that she is destined to be everybody’s sweetheart in course of time.

Two questions frequently asked of Paul are: “What was your original purpose in organizing Rotary,” and “Did you have any idea Rotary would ever prove to be such a movement as it is.”

In answering the first question, Paul might well say, as the father of a real flesh and blood child might say, that there were many thoughts and no two of them were precisely alike. The process was the evolution of an idea. A natural father may think with pride of his coming child but his affections are seldom deeply engaged until the concept becomes reality; then dimpled hands pull at his heart strings with increasing power as the days of childhood come and go.

Paul had faith in the creature of his imagination during its prenatal period and took pride in it but it cannot truthfully be claimed that it won his affections until the concept became reality.

At the moment when the thought of a club constructed on the exclusive representation plan first flashed across his mind in the year 1900, its utilitarian aspect made strong appeal to him. It could scarcely have been otherwise; he had come to Chicago a stranger to establish himself in the practice of law. The handicap of lack of acquaintance had been brought relentlessly home to him. Many young lawyers no more capable, no more persevering than he, were realizing substantial dividends upon their investment in acquaintance. It had been necessary for Paul to content himself with such crumbs as had fallen from the banquet table.

Paul had been taught that success was honorable, failure shameful; he coveted success. There being in the picture two figures only, definite needs and an indefinite concept, the former had stronger appeal. But the gestation period of Rotary was nearly five years during which needs had become less pressing and new figures had appeared. There was Silvester,  Gus, Hiram, Harry and others. The utilitarian aspect of the exclusive representation plan would remain but they would no longer exist for the benefit of Paul alone; they would be shared—and then came the great day. Rotary was born, the concept became reality. To have loved success better than he loved the creature of his imagination would have been to be an unnatural father. Paul was not an unnatural father. He and hundreds of others who owe Rotary far less loyalty and devotion than he, have for a score of years sacrificed themselves unstintingly for Rotary. In Rotary they have nevertheless found their “acres of diamonds.”

To the second question, Paul might well make reply that on February 23, 1905, he had no thought of a world wide Rotary; but he can in truth say that his ambitions became aroused very early. Within a year, he was bombarding his friend George Clark with requests to establish a club in Jacksonville and before two years had passed, his New York campaign had begun.

The story herein related is in fact the story of the why and the when of Rotary. There could not have been the Rotary that exists today had it not been for the friendships of boyhood, college and business days. The classifications plan was Paul’s reaction to the struggle for existence in Chicago and the world wide view point was the natural consequence of his five years’ wanderings in many lands.