John Bancroft Devins, a true great heart...

Prefatory Note

The reminiscences in this book are not a biography, but a record of the salient events and characteristics of Dr. Devins's life and personality as recalled by a close friend of many years, the Reverend E. C. Ray, D.D., of Santa Barbara, California; a series of " moving pictures " rather than a meticulous and balanced history. The writer desires to acknowledge gratefully his obligation to Mrs. Devins for the greatest possible assistance; and to express his hope that the reminiscences, though unworthy of their great subject, may yet be useful in recalling to his friends some vivid memories, and in suggesting to others how a life encompassed with difficulties may be made glorious and happy and filled with the spirit and the works of Jesus Christ. Details of his earlier years, so amazing, so pathetic, so sad to those to whom Dr. Devins was most dear — just as the long past sufferings of our Lord, essential to His power and glory, hurt our hearts now — are given, in connection with what he afterwards accomplished only as an inspiration to those who are handicapped at the start. As Dr. Devins shrank from exploit-

PREFATORY NOTE ing his own story, these things would never have been written were it not that he expressed to his wife, and in a letter to the writer, his willingness that after his death these reminiscences be written for the benefit of those who begin life under similar disadvantages.

His Favorite Poem . . . .

Chapter I The Start And The Finish

A sturdy lad walked into the hamlet of Vernon Center, Oneida County, New York, on a March morning in 1873. He had walked far, carrying all his worldly possessions, easily, in a very small bundle. He had left home because home failed to give him two things he resolved to have — religion and education. Religion he had, deep down in the heart of him; but he had not the forms of it and did not know that he had it at all, and he would have it or die. He walked on the quest of the Holy Grail. Of education he had but little ; but the root of it was in him, that unappeasable hunger, combined with unalterable resolution and willingness to work like a slave, lacking in so many who have all opportunities. This is the pledge of power for those who are born with it or have it awakened in them. He was out walking for wisdom.

What else had he in capital to make a career for himself? A name? Half of one. He was John. John what? His adoptive parents, who had taken him an infant from the Home for the Friendless in New York City, had given him their last name, and with that name he walked into Vernon Center. Let us call it Pachman — John Pachman. No, he had no capital but himself. Not trying now to look inside of the boy, into his brain and heart, but letting them speak for themselves in these reminiscences, let us inventory his external assets at that time. Clothes — nothing good to be said; they were few, cheap, misfits, worn. Body — short, square built, stocky, muscles of size and of steel, shoulders of Atlas, a shock of reddish hair cut under a bowl, a pervasive crop of large freckles, head rather small and not at all promising, shy manner, extraordinary capability for blushing and none for taking care of his hands and feet in social groups containing well-dressed or female persons, a very rapid, half-articulated speech difficult to understand.

But he had two things that distinguished him from most other people and suggested the promise of all that he was to be. His form was always erect and his carriage free, unlike the attitudes and gaits usually acquired in farm occupations. He never slouched in his life. He stood up, sat down, walked, ran, fell, got up again, all with the graceful power of an athlete. There was nobody else

THE START AND THE FINISH 9 in the community like him. Physical perfection, perfect health, mental balance and moral strength seemed to shout themselves through him to the world. Everybody felt, unconsciously, the message his body spoke. It won instant respect, awing the lawless, winning the well-meaning, inspiring confidence in everyone.

But his wonderful eyes ! Of a soft dark brown and very large, their first noticeable characteristic was their extraordinary beauty, unsurpassed, in the judgment of his friends, by any other eyes. Next, everybody felt that they were clean, transparent windows of his soul, capable of expressing any emotion possible to a human spirit. They could flash with anger like lightning strokes, showing a furnace of wrath within. They could speak a scorn as biting as aqua fortis. But they commonly glowed with kindness, unspeakable affection and good-will, honesty unquestionable and absolutely firm, truthfulness as clear as heaven's blue, and courage that no one looking into them would think of trying to weaken. What a great, strong, soaring, selfcontrolled, trusty, dependable, loving soul looked out of those windows ! Everybody felt that at once all through his life.

What had the little hamlet, nine miles from its railroad station at Oneida, to offer this lad? Two general stores, a smithy, a tiny post-office in the tailor's shop, Methodist and Presbyterian churches on adjacent corners facing the small central square, a tavern of bad repute, a few modest dwellings with one comparatively palatial one — the summer home of a rich distiller from Buffalo — and farmhouses on all the out-radiating roads. What did John make of his opportunities?

He worked his way through New York University and Union Theological Seminary, later receiving earned degrees of A.B. and A.M. from the former institution, and from other institutions the honorary degrees of Doctor of Divinity and Doctor of Laws. He was a member of the city staff, New York Tribune, 1880-8 ; corresponding secretary, American Institute of Christian Philosophy, and editor of its magazine, Christian Thought, 1890-6; chairman Sub-committee on Sanitation, East Side Relief Work, 1893-4; founder and first president, Federation of East Side Workers, 1894; founder and president, New York Employment Society, 1894; chairman, Cooper Union Labor Bureau, 1895; manager, New York Association for Improving the Condition of the Poor, 1895; member Public Lecture Corps, New York Board of Education, 1896; member National Federation of Churches and Christian Workers,

THE START AND THE FINISH n

1901-8; managing editor, New York Observer, 1898-1902; editor and president, New York Observer Company, 1902; member National Civic Federation, 1902; official representative, Evangelistic Committee of General Assembly, Presbyterian Church, U. S. A., on trip around the world, 1903-4; speaker of International Sunday School Committee at Jerusalem Convention, 1904; member General Assembly's Committee on Seamen and Soldiers, 1904-8 ; first fraternal delegate of New York Presbytery to Central Federated Labor Union, 1904-8; managing editor, The Bible Record, 1904-6; trustee (by appointment of the Governor), New York State Hospital for Incipient Pulmonary Tuberculosis, Ray Brook, N. Y., 1905-19 10; and secretary of the Board, 1906-8; member Executive Committee, Inter-church Conference on Federation, and chairman of its Press Committee, 1903; member Child Labor Committee, 1906; member the College Board of the Presbyterian Church, U. S. A., 1906-8; life member American Bible Society, 1907; member National Vacation Bible School Committee, 1907; trustee and vicepresident, Industrial Christian Alliance for the U. S. A., 1907; secretary, Presbyterian Union of New York, 1907; trustee, Evangelical Alliance, U. S. A., 1907; manager,

Tribune Fresh Air Fund, 1907; chairman, Committee on Literature and Education, Federal Council of Churches of Christ in America, 1908; corporate member, China Industrial Union, 1908; counselor, Female Guardian Society and Home for the Friendless, 1908; advisory member, Working Girls' Vacation Society, 1908; trustee, American Seamen's Friend Society, 1908 ; member National Geographical Society, Washington, 1908; member Victoria Institute, London, 1908; organizer Orient Travel League for Bible Students and Travelers, 1909; member Bible Study Union, 1909. Initial dates for the following are lacking: Member Central Bureau of Colored Fresh Air Agencies; trustee, Christ's Mission; chairman, Prison Gate Mission; lecturer of the New York Board of Education on Sociology, Literature and Travel; manager, New York Sunday School Association, and chairman of its Committee on Public Buildings; honorary secretary for New York- Egypt Exploration Fund; author of " Blind Jennie," " The Church and the City Problem " (1895), " An Observer in the Philippines " ( 1905) , " On the Way to Hwai Yuen, or a Mule Ride in China" (1906), " The Classic Mediterranean " (1910), and the hymn, " Jesus, Saviour, We Would See Thee," collaborator in " The Life of Dwight

THE START AND THE FINISH 13

L. Moody," " Christ and the Church " and " Proceedings of the Federal Council of the Churches." He was never a member of any board, committee, association or group of workers into which he did not throw his whole soul and ability to work.

One who knew him from his Vernon Center appearance until his disappearance when a cloud received him out of our sight will try to tell in these pages some of the characteristic and romantic incidents of his development. There will be no effort to magnify his character or achievements, or to glorify his memory, but only to tell the story simply and truthfully so that others may get help from it. We shall tell about " John " as we knew him.

Chapter II

So John Pachman walked into Vernon Center that March day of 1873, in his seventeenth year, his worldly poverty in a small bundle in his hand, talent, if not genius, seething not understood in his brain, his big heart confident and unafraid walking out into life with a firm, ambitious tread, his head high, his hopes higher, seeking two things — religion and education. He felt that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, as all wise men have felt even before Solomon. So he sought religion first, leaving education for later consideration; thus, consciously or unconsciously, taking the first necessary step toward sound education. He hired himself out to Mr. Young, an elder in the Presbyterian Church, as farm hand, with a small monthly stipend " and found." This was happy for both parties. Mr. Young thus entertained an angel unawares. John found a warm home, a fine Christian friend in the young farmer, a sister's sympathetic help in the farmer's lovely wife, and two dear little children, girls, upon whom he could practice some of the love and kindness with which his heart overflowed. He went to the Presbyterian Church with these friends his first Sunday in his new home.

That same week another young man, seven years older than John, as tall as John was then short, as anemic and thin as John was ruddy and stocky, having a few more clothes than John and a good many more books, and a license from the Presbytery to exercise his gifts, and an invitation from the church at the Center, had come in on the stage from Oneida, lodged lonely in the little manse, and began with fear and trembling to try to make sermons and friends. He made one lifelong friend the first Sunday — John. John felt in the first two sermons all that the immature young seminarian longed to express in them and could not. They talked half that Sunday night. " Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out no other text was needed. John needed no one to lead him to the Saviour he was seeking with all his heart, only someone to call his attention to that Saviour's instant and eternal acceptance of him. The young minister declined to discuss Presbyterianism or any other ism, because our Church welcomes all who trust and love and desire to follow the Saviour, and all questions beyond that could be postponed; the

Great Teacher would not fail to teach all things in due time, by the Spirit of truth, to an earnest disciple and follower. John acted upon this truth instantly; it settled the matter for him forever; it was never again in his life, I believe, open to doubt. That was an early prophecy of greatness, that instant decision of a great question never to be re-opened. Is there not some greatness in a comparatively untaught soul that can in an hour appreciate the incomparable truth of Jesus Christ and rely absolutely, with never a hesitation, fear or regret, upon His word? There was earnest prayer, and hand grips, and " good-night " and u God bless you! " So John accomplished his first adventure, his walking in search of the Holy Grail; he got religion.

And what religion he got ! The following Wednesday night the usual mid-week meeting was held in the little basement room that might possibly hold a crowded twenty or thirty — but was never called upon to do that at prayer meeting; a dozen was a large attendance. John was there. At the first opportunity he was down upon his knees, trying to pray. He mumbled indistinguishable words a minute or two and then ceased. The embarrassed young preacher knew not what to say to him at the close of the meeting; could only grasp his hand and try to look love and courage into his eyes. An answering grip of the hand and the wonderful eyes spoke gratitude, love and courage better than words could have done it. The next Wednesday night John was there, and at the first opportunity on his knees again trying to pray. He w T as there every Wednesday night, the first to pray. Presently his words could be distinguished; simple prayers like a child's, but also like a man's, full of intensest devotion, resolution, fire of purpose, with humility, trust, practicality. He never failed to be present and to pray, and he never failed of a petition for foreign missions. Dr. A. W. Halsey, secretary of our Board of Foreign Missions, began his article about John in The Assembly Herald with these words: " The mission cause never had a better friend than the editor of The New York Observer, whose sudden death on August 26, 1 9 1 1 , brought sorrow to many hearts in many lands." It began in that little prayer meeting at the Center. It was favorable soil for such devotion. The little church had sent fully a dozen of its young men to Hamilton College, only four miles away, over the hills, and through Auburn Seminary into the ministry, two of them later going to Chile as missionaries under our foreign board.

I have never known anyone between whose intellectual convictions and daily conduct there was closer connection than was the case with John, always. He attended unfailingly every church service or other function, in every one doing what he could to help. He did not attend them for social pleasure, for he seldom attended merely social gatherings. He was too serious, felt his handicaps too keenly, was too intent on getting religion and education, to take time for mere pleasure; and he was too shy in social groups to seek them for pleasure. But he felt that as a follower of Christ, as a member of the church into which he was received and baptized at the first communion, it was his business to take part in every phase of the church's life, and he did it. That spirit characterized all his later relations in life. He was absolutely faithful and consecrated. He accepted no position on board, committee, directorate, and no* title or degree, as a merited honor, but always as an added responsibility, an opportunity for earnest service, another call upon the great love and devotion of his heart, brain and hands. His religion was not merely the most important thing in his character and life; it permeated, colored, shaped, glorified every ounce, atom and ion of him. It was no fire insurance against eternal damnation, such as when one tries to get the largest possible amount of assurance against loss and damage by fire for the smallest possible premium payments. It was union of mind, heart and life with the Lord Jesus Christ, blood brotherhood with Him; thq past forgiven and the future safe, the present full of glorious possibilities of fellowship, service, growth, gladness, life and life more abundantly. Constant companionship with such a soul was more educational and more heartening to the young parson than all his theological years had been. Has anyone ever kept close to John for any length of time without a similar experience? " There was a man sent from God whose name was John. The same came for a witness to bear witness of the Light, that all men through him might believe. . . . He was a burning and a shining light, and ye were willing for a time to rejoice in his light."

Chapter III Getting Education

" Getting Education Into Him " would have to be the title of this chapter in the life of the ordinary boy. When Sidis Boris methods become general perhaps boys will try to get education instead of requiring that it be coaxed, wheedled, argued, scolded and pounded into them; but at present the boy who sets out for himself to get education is extraordinary. He gets it. Hence, however it may have seemed to John, it was really of slight importance to him that the young minister was present to lend a hand in the matter: John would have got education all the same some other way; but it was of immense importance to the young minister that the great privilege fell to him. School was out of the question; neither of them had money for it. Nor was regular recitation possible; John's time was his employer's and the minister's was everybody's. But the small well selected library was there, and books were chosen for John to read as he could, then to be talked over between them as opportunity offered. John read slowly at

John at the Age of

GETTING EDUCATION 21 first, handicapped by inexperience as well as by lack of knowledge. But he read doggedly. He never slept many hours a night, but he slept soundly. He did thoroughly everything that he undertook. He read every spare minute; mornings, noons, nights; driving to the nine-mile distant railroad station; many hours on Sundays, and in those multitudinous odd times when most boys do anything else but read. In discussing what he read he soon shook off his first embarrassment of poverty of information and began to ask questions going down to the roots of things and up to their tendencies.

Autumn brought to the Center a young man from a nearby town, gifted with ambition and a little schooling, who had acquired, by pushing his hair up and back, a noble brow, and a manner of oppressive dignity. He opened in the enlarged basement of our church a private school where, at small charges, our youth could get education supposedly better and loftier than the district school afforded. John arranged to do chores for his employer during the winter for his board and put his savings into a few books and tuition in the private school. Probably fifteen or twenty subjects were taught in the school — and John took them. The quality of the teaching may be judged from this:

The teacher engaged the young minister to give him lessons in beginning Latin five days a week before breakfast; and it was considerably later that the minister learned that these lessons were given an hour later to pupils in the school, and when the minister was absent at Presbytery or the like, the Latin class was excused that day, of course with no reference to the minister's absence. John took everything except the Latin, which began late in the term. He bought with his own money candles for study in the night. He attacked each subject as if it were the one lion in his path of education. What horrors of discouragement he met in that first climbing of the rugged path to knowledge ! But he was never discouraged for a moment; difficulty meant to him only harder fighting. " Let courage rise with danger, and strength to strength oppose "; he liked to sing that; he lived it daily. He came out of that winter a man. All he learned from books and teacher was little compared with the education he got from the struggle itself; the really vital part of education for life, and the part that the ordinary boy never gets at all.

Three years after John came to the' Center the young minister removed from Vernon Center to enter a pastorate in New Jersey. He had always known from John's prayers

GETTING EDUCATION 23 that he wanted to be a foreign missionary, but had never spoken of it to John. He never tried to force John's confidence on any subject, or to give him unasked advice; and their growing friendship was thus kept on a basis of comradeship; and why use " come on " methods with one whom the Spirit of God was clearly leading better than a man could do it? But now John opened his heart on the subject. For once, he was discouraged. He had hoped, but he saw no way to get all the vast education his felt ignorance told him he needed, and he spoke of missionarying only as of a dream broken, an illusion dispelled. The minister, of course, could open vistas of hope to him. It was arranged that a school should be found where John could work his way, wholly or in part, until the minister got settled down somewhere and the minister's wife could invite John to become a member of their family. In the fall of 1876 accordingly he entered Whitestown Academy, a very fine school at Utica. Here he worked at gardening, care of horse and cow, sweeping out, sawing and splitting wood and building fires, and the like, at twelve and one-half cents an hour during the school year. He had to borrow some money on his personal notes, and he found no trouble in doing so ; who that ever knew him well could ever entertain a doubt as to either his honesty or his ability to repay? But such easy money never led him to relax an atom of his rigid economy. Money in his pocket stayed there, in spite of all the temptations that usually evaporate it out of boys' pockets, until the sternest necessity brought it out.

John stood fairly in his classes that year. But he had no decent preparation for the work; time and strength were poured out for twelve and one-half cents an hour to keep him along, and he took nearly twice as many studies as others attempted. When the summer vacation came, John had covered, in a term or so of rural district school years before, in the winter private school at the Center and the one year at Whitestown Academy, and in his solitary reading helped a little by the young minister, the education that is usually acquired, with far less thoroughness and usefulness, in the eight grades of the common school. And he had secured the real education which knits character, gives it will and strength, endurance and power. He was now ready to accept the young minister's invitation to his home in New Jersey.

Chapter IV

While John is taking his brief but momentous journey from the country to the metropolis, we shall find extraordinary interest in looking backward over his life to note some things which he has recorded. Quotation marks, unless otherwise indicated, enclose his own words.

He was born in New York City, September 26, 1856. " About my parentage and early life the little I have been able to learn is contained in the records of the Home for the Friendless. My father, John Devins, was Irish Catholic, as was my mother, Ann Mahan, before her marriage. My father disappeared six months after their marriage and had not been heard from since by his wife in 1859. My mother was then in service at 10 Washington Place, which was then the home of Commodore Vanderbilt. About a year after my birth, a French woman, Mrs. Marie, a widow and a Catholic, adopted me. Two years later, in April 1859, my mother and Mrs. Marie legally surrendered me to the Home for the Friendless, parting with me, the record of the Home says, with great affection and many tears. After diligent use of every means of search I have been unable to learn anything more regarding my parents, their connections, or Mrs. Marie. Just three months after entering the Home, I was, on July 26, 1859, ' dismissed to the parental care ' of Mr. and Mrs. Pachman, of Oneida County, New York. My memory does not go back of that summer morning when I was carried by Mr. Pachman, my foster-father, from the depot to his home. On receipt of constant good reports from the foster parents I was legally indentured to them on April 26, i860." The foster parents were plain farming people in humble circumstances. They loved John. The mother was always kind to him, the father kind in his rough way in the earlier years.

" I was sent to school before I was five years old. I grew tired and devised every possible means of running away from school. To cure me of the habit, one day when I reached home father placed me under a large hogshead and sat on it until I promised never to play truant again. I remained in my not uncomfortable quarters for an hour and after due deliberation decided to go to school, and from that time gave no further trouble in that respect. My education, thus happily begun, was doomed by force of circumstances to be interrupted." When John once told this story someone remarked, " I suppose your father sat on the hogshead and read his paper." John replied, " No, he could not read." The family became poor and poorer. The farm was sold and the proceeds quickly spent. The farmer became a laborer; his temper, manners and language deteriorated. Before John was six years old, they intoxicated him with brandy prescribed for his father's illness, and enjoyed the result. This set his heart firmly against alcohol and against his father's violent ways and language, and against his political party! Between his sixth and twelfth years things happened that both showed and shaped his remarkable character.

The family were once dispossessed for non-payment of rent. John knew the sheriff was coming, locked the door and stood before it with the key in his pocket. When the sheriff came John told him that the family needed the house and that if he wanted the key to put them out he must get it if he could. The sheriff left and the family remained. The little lad was early put to work and thenceforth contributed largely to the support of the family until he left home at seventeen years of age. He did chores for neighbors, sometimes for his board, that he might attend school in the winter. He broke colts, worked as a farm hand in a lumber yard, in a tannery. For three months he worked in a saw mill; the owner failed, owing John forty-five dollars and leaving him in debt for his board. " My entire wardrobe one summer for work, church, visiting, etc., was one straw hat, one jean frock and one pair of jean overalls — nothing else." He was such a forlorn looking boy that some of the older boys kept harassing him. He stood it for a long time, then seized the biggest bully and held his head under the pump and gave him a good drenching. After that he was highly respected.

One winter, to get time for school, he rose at three o'clock in the morning, ate a scanty cold breakfast and did the chores at his own home; walked more than a mile to clean a neighbor's stable, curry the horses and milk the cows ; repeated this for a third family farther on, and reached school before nine o'clock. Long before that the memory of his breakfast had vanished and he was ravenously hungry and ate up his luncheon. At noon this sturdy boy, doing the work of three men — he did the work of at least five men during his manhood years — says he would ha.ve starved had not his fellow schoolmates given generously of their nuts and apples. Evidently he was the John we knew in later years and to the end; for anyone who knew him well would have been happy to make any sacrifice for him if his independence would accept it. "I went to the village store nights and began to smoke there. " A man whom he respected spoke to him about it one night. " I threw away the cigar that I had lighted and have never wanted one since."

In 1872, being sixteen years old, he told his foster-father that he must have an education; that they were well and strong and able to support themselves; that he would work there one year more and give them all that he earned; and after that start out for himself. He carried out his program, as he always carried out his programs.

The beginning of John's feeling after God and of his religious life are interesting. He went to church and Sunday-school when he was permitted to do so. " When about fourteen years old I learned that the Sabbath should be hallowed. I had many scoldings, not a few oaths and one terrible whipping with a strap because I did not wish to work on Sunday." Two years later a schoolmate said to him, as they walked home from the village store one night, " John, do you know