JOHN THOMPSON—CO-OPERATION
One day after I had been settled in Chicago for, perhaps, two or three
weeks, the sun shone so brightly and the weather was so mild that I was
tempted to stroll out, on so exceptional an occasion for Chicago, into
the suburbs of the great city. As I wandered along aimlessly, watching
the gay sleighing parties, I saw one of the young men who roomed in the
same house coming toward me from the opposite direction.
I had become so far acquainted with him as to have learned that his name
was Thompson, and had overheard some of his conversation with companions
who called at his room. What I had heard and seen did not impress me
favorably. He seemed to entertain and express views of an economic
nature which were not in accord with my New England notions, and I was
disposed to avoid him. My first impulse, in fact, was to cross this
street and continue my way alone. Before I could do this, however,
Thompson hailed me with a cheerful, courteous and familiar “How do you
do?” So cordial, good-natured and attractive seemed his manner, devoid
of all affectation or obtrusiveness, that I stopped, returned his
salutation and suddenly became conscious of a desire to have company in
my walk. So I asked him which way he was bound, and on his replying that
he was simply taking a stroll we both turned into a side street, and
continuing the walk together entered into conversation.
Thompson was really a remarkable looking man. I marveled, as I walked
along with him, that I had not noticed this in the two weeks that we had
roomed in the same house, but probably it was because we saw each other
only once in awhile in the hallway as we passed. I now observed that he
was a man fully six feet tall, erect and powerfully built, with a
thoughtful, clean-shaven face, strong features and great earnest,
commanding eyes. Indeed it seemed to me that I never had seen such eyes
before. One felt that they belonged to a master and that this man was a
natural leader of his kind. But I then thought, and afterward learned,
that he was not only a leader but a thinker. Such a man could, if his
heart was enlisted in any cause, sacrifice not merely life, but, if need
be, reputation for the good cause in which he believed.
“I have thought, Mr. Braden,” said he, as we sauntered along together,
“that you might be interested in a little project some of us have to
improve the condition of the masses of our people. Have you ever studied
the question of co-operation?”
“No, sir,” said I. “I have never studied the question of co-operation. I
presume you mean, sir, co-operation among laborers. But while I have not
studied it I must admit that I have little sympathy with the theory. It
is not practicable and all attempts which I have observed have failed.”
“Pardon me, Mr. Braden,” returned my companion. “I feel that you have
not observed the noble and very successful co-operative enterprises
which flourish throughout Europe and to some extent in the United States
at this time. The truth is, co-operation has proven to be and is
strikingly practicable. In the United Kingdom of Great Britain and
Ireland $60,000,000.00 and more constitutes the accumulated capital of
co-operative societies and on the continent of Europe the capital
involved is much greater.”
It is not my purpose to detail our discussion of this subject. Suffice
it to say that nearly the whole day was spent in each other’s society.
Although by no means convinced at the close of the day that Thompson was
correct in his views, I found myself deeply interested. I resolved to
study the subject and study it fairly.
The project which my new acquaintance outlined was one which I at once
pronounced visionary. It was, he said, the design of certain gentlemen,
some of whom lived in Chicago, to organize what they called the
Co-operative Commonwealth. These gentlemen had decided to induce
laboring men and other persons who might be willing to associate
themselves in the work to form co-operative societies and to colonize
them in some one state, so that, in process of time, they would outvote
the devotees of the old system. When this desired result was achieved,
they made no doubt that the Co-operative Commonwealth would be
established and present to the entire world an example of prosperity
which would rouse an unquenchable spirit of emulation. I could not
forbear to sneer at the plan when it was explained, but when I saw how
serious Thompson was, and looking into his face felt the impression of
his strong character, I was inclined to think about it and began,
involuntarily, to picture to myself an ideal of the Co-operative
Commonwealth.
That day Thompson and I were together much of the time and went to the
public library, at his suggestion, to prove some of his statements, the
correctness of which I had disputed. I was obliged to admit, when we
parted, that he had made no mistake, and this satisfied me that he was
an authority on social and economic questions.
This man was, at the time when our meeting and conversation occurred,
about thirty-five years of age. He was an Englishman by birth, but came
to this country when only three years of age with his parents, and
settled in Red Bluff, California, where his mother died shortly after.
When about fifteen he removed with his father to a mining town in
Nevada, where the father speedily acquired a fortune in mercantile
pursuits and in some fortunate speculations in mining stocks. The son
was impatient of restraint as a boy, ran away from home, and visited
nearly all the mining camps in the west, followed every excitement,
became a skillful miner and acquired an immense fund of useful and
curious information.
When about thirty he drifted to Chicago and worked at a variety of
occupations, being a master of many, but never rose above the station of
a journeyman. This was due to the fact that he worked only that he might
obtain money to procure books, principally on questions of political
economy, and had no aspiration to follow any life but that of a student.
One day when he had been in the city for some years he saw his father,
now an old man, in the crowd on State street. He had lost all trace of
him many years before, and once in his wanderings he had gone to the
Nevada mining town where he last saw him, and had found the town
deserted except by two old men, who could give him no information as to
where his father had gone. They simply knew that when he went away he
was accounted one of the wealthiest men in the camp. Now, meeting him on
the street of the great city, he observed that he seemed to have about
him every indication of wealth and position. He spoke to him, calling
him father, and was recognized by the old gentleman, but with some
difficulty. Events following were sufficiently interesting.
Thompson was taken to his father’s palatial residence on the Wisconsin
lake shore, not far from Chicago, and for a while lived in great luxury.
But this was ill suited to his character and entirely at variance with
the habits he had formed during his rough western life. He became
restless, and made numerous trips to the city, where he spent his time
in the libraries and among his books. His father, who was in truth very
wealthy, usually went south in the winter and was in Florida at that
time. On the day when I met the son he designed to take the evening
train for his father’s southern home, intending to go from there to
Arizona, where the old gentleman has some mining interests, but
expecting to return to Chicago in March.
When he parted with me that afternoon he urged me to pursue certain
economic lines of inquiry, advising me what books to read, and
requesting me to give him my views on co-operation when he should next
meet me. This I promised to do, and when we went our several ways I
found myself looking at the world with new eyes, but with a feeling that
I was getting on rather too familiar terms with a number of political
heresies.