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What an Illiterate Boy Made of His Life · Stories of Grit

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  Chapter thirteen of Stories of Grit. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox
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  recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please
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  visit LibriVox dot org. Read by George Banfield, recorded in Somerset, England,
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  October twenty twenty three. Stories of Grit by Archer Wallace. What an
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  illiterate boy made of his life. Just seven days before Christmas eighteen fifty one,
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  a baby was born at Mansfield, Nottingham, England, named James Flanahan,
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  who was destined to have a pretty hard time of it for several years.
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  The baby's father was Patrick Flanahan, and, as his name would suggest,
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  was Irish by nationality. When he was sober, Patrick Fanahan was a
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  good husband and father, but when he was drunk, which was pretty often,
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  he acted like a beast. At the sound of his unsteady step on
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  the stage, his wife and children prepared for the worst. Often, what
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  little furniture there was in the Flannahan home would be smashed to atoms in the
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  fury of the man's drunken passion, and the mother and children would be driven
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  out into the street to wander around until some one had pity on them and
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  took them in. After a few years, James went to work with his
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  father at the task of pipe making in a factory. His father was the
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  kiln man and was clever in the art of giving fixity to molds of clay
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  by a process of burning. James stood at the table, modeling clay into
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  tobacco pipes. It was hard work for the boy, and all he received
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  was sixty cents a week. The father became dissatisfied with such small wages,
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  and so James was taken out of the factory to work in a coal mine.
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  A lady in whose class James sat at Sunday School gave him a coat
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  which was several sizes too large for him. His mother wept when she saw
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  him. He looked so funny, but James was too young to worry over
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  his appearance, and he was glad to have a coat to keep him warm.
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  The men with whom James worked down the mine teased him or cursed him
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  according to their moods. They were rough men, and often their language was
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  vile. At meal times, James munched his crust of bread and cheese and
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  heard tales which had been told in the saloon the night before. Soon he
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  was taken along with other lads of his age to the saloon. His sweet
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  singing astonished and pleased the drunken men there. He sang songs which he had
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  heard, and he attended theaters, and such was his memory that he could
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  reproduce whole scenes that he had witnessed. For all this, James received a
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  good deal of praise, and especially from the saloon keepers, who were glad
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  to have anyone who could attract men to their drinking places. Through the influence
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  of a Sunday school worker named Parker, James was induced to attend religious service
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  at a Methodist church. He sat very reverently through the service, although it
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  all seemed very strange to him, and much of it he did not understand.
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  When at the close of the service a man took him by the hand
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  and said, God bless you, my brother, he was deeply touched and
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  his eyes filled up with tears. He was not accustomed to that kind of
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  speech. It was the kindness of the people which led him back to that
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  church again. Deep impressions for good were made on the young lad's mind.
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  Although he could not make up his mind what to do. He had a
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  great many evil companions, and he knew it would be a difficult thing for
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  him to break away from them. However, one Sunday morning, as he
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  sat in church listening to an earnest sermon, he bowed his head and gave
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  himself to God. It was the turning point in James Flanahan's life. He
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  was at this time about sixteen years of age, but he he had practically
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  no education. He could not write his own name, nor even distinguish the
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  letters of the alphabet. He had never been to school one day in his
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  life, and practically all he knew was the vulgar sayns he had heard in
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  the mine and in the saloons. But he began to improve himself at once,
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  and big fellow though he was, he bought an alphabet and learned his
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  letters thoroughly, and then he began the simplest kind of reading. Often when
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  he came home from the mine, tired though he was, he sat up
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  until past midnight trying to make up for lost years. He tried hard and
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  made good progress. As soon as he was able to read well enough to
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  spell out the words he committed to memory the one hundred and third Psalm It
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  took him quite a while to learn it all, for he could only commit
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  to memory a few verses at a time. But he succeeded, and this
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  fine psalm filled his mind with beautiful thoughts during the hours he spent down the
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  mine. Then soon afterwards, when there was need for teachers in the Sunday
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  school, he offered his services. He was given the beginner's class at first,
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  for he could neither read nor teach the lessons for older scholars, But
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  as he advanced in knowledge, he was promoted to other classes, and after
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  a few years was actually made superintendent of the school. There was a group
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  of earnest men in that church who, like Flanahan, worked hard, but
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  who on Sundays preached either in small churches and mission halls of the district or
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  in the open air. Soon he joined them, and although his first prayers
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  and brief addresses in public were halting and a source of anxiety to him,
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  he rapidly improved, and all the neighboring churches were glad to have him preach
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  in their Pulpits miners, who had known him for several years, could not
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  understand how he had become educated so quickly. They knew that he had never
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  been a day at Parst Public School in his life, and that even at
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  sixteen he could neither read nor write. Yet now he could read whole chapters
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  of the Bible in public, and could preach sermons that showed he had read
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  many other books as well. He was still working fourteen hours a day in
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  the mine, and his time for reading was strictly limited, but he never
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  wasted a moment, and his perseverance and earnestness, together with his excellent memory,
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  soon enabled him to preach as though he had attended school as other young
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  men. Soon after this, he was asked to conduct some services at a
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  village named long Clawson. These services were so successful that he was engaged to
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  conduct further services in that district for a period of six months. Of course,
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  this meant giving up work in the coal mine and moving elsewhere. The
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  news quickly spread throughout the little town where he lived, and the pupil came
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  to his house to wish him and his wife and children God's speed. His
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  conversion and the marvelous progress he had made in education were widely known, and
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  all were deeply interested. He stood upon a chair and the crowd gathered around,
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  He told them again of his conversion, and after a few earnest words,
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  bade them a tender farewell. All were deeply moved, and there were
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  few dry eyes. For four years James Flanahan did the work of an evangelist,
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  making visits varying from ten days to four weeks at many places throughout the
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  country. Whenever he could spare half an hour, he spent it in reading.
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  He knew that he had a great deal of ground to make up,
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  and he never could make it up unless he worked hard. His careful reading
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  soon showed in his sermons and addresses. Not only were his public speeches earnest,
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  they were thoughtful, and people who had known him in other years considered
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  his progress nothing short of a miracle. Then he was appointed City Missionary for
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  the city of Nottingham. During the time he lived there, James Flanahan became
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  widely known and greatly beloved. The services he conducted at the large Mission Hall
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  were the most important gatherings he had ever addressed. The large building held two
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  thousand people, and quite often it was filled to overflowing. A Brotherhood organization
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  for men was established with over two thousand members, and the entire city of
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  Nottingham was influenced for good. When the time came for him to leave the
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  city, he carried away with him the good wishes of all. In eighteen
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  ninety one, when he was forty years of age, James Flanahan was made
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  a minister of the primitive Methodist Church. This was a somewhat unusual thing to
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  do, as he had never been to college nor taken any regular course of
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  study. But his work had shown that he was a true and able servant
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  of God, and he would never disgrace the ministry, for his close study
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  for more than twenty years had made him a well educated man. His first
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  charge after ordination was at Trinity Street Church, London. Here he found a
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  large church, almost empty, yet surrounded by a vast population of very poor
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  people. His first Sunday was not an encouraging one. There were only thirty
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  six people at the morning service and thirty seven in the evening. But James
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  Flanahan had been facing difficulties all his life and had become used to them,
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  from the time when as a baby he had been turned out into the streets
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  with his poor mother, up to the time he stood in the big empty
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  church at London. It had been a bitter, uphill struggle, but rough
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  weather makes good sailors, and Flanahan's heart was strong and brave. The more
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  he learned about the district around his church, the more he realized the need
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  for Christian work. There were scores of low class drinking places, and the
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  the lodging houses were little better than haunts for animals. There was one lodging
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  house where thirteen murders had been committed. But the very wretchedness of the district
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  made an appeal to Flannagan's sympathy, and he worked harder than he had ever
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  worked in his life, if that were possible. Soon the large building was
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  filled, fine enthusiastic meetings were held during the week, and hundreds of boys
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  in that neighborhood enjoyed their first games in the gymnasium of the church. Soon,
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  the premises, which had seemed so large and empty at first, were
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  far too small to hold all the people who were eager to attend what was
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  to be done. The people of the district certainly could not raise money to
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  enlarge the premises, and so it was decided that mister Flanahan should visit towns
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  and cities outside of London during the week, and by lecturing and preaching,
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  raised sufficient money to build larger and better premises. In less than two years,
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  mister Flanahan had raised the sum of twenty thousand dollars, which made it
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  possible to begin work on the new buildings. By this time the name of
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  James Fanahan had become known throughout England. Just the announcement on a billboard that
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  James Fanahan is coming was a sufficient advertisement to fill any church or hall.
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  Under the magic spell of his eloquence, people became generous in their gifts for
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  the poor. Poor children brought their coppers to buy a new brick in the
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  buildings. A man who was penniless put his watch and chain on the collection
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  plate, while another man brought a hen and requested her to be sold and
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  the funds used as the speaker wished. The new hall was formerly opened on
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  January fourth, nineteen hundred and is known as Saint George's Hall. It is
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  a fine, well equipped building and from the day it was opened until the
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  present time it has been a means of blessing to thousands of people in that
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  crowded section of London known as Bermansey, where pop live under conditions which fortunately
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  are almost unknown in this land. James Flanahan's reputation spread overseas, and in
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  nineteen o eight he was invited to tour Australia and New Zealand. He received
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  a great welcome in New Zealand by people of all denominations. Arrangements had been
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  made for large meetings, but in most cases the churches and halls which had
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  been engaged were much too small. No visitor to that land for many years
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  so favorably impressed the people. Audiences were held spellbound by his eloquence. How
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  few of those who so admired his culture and lofty thought realized that they were
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  listening to a man who had never been to public school a day in his
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  life, and who, up to the time of his sixteenth birthday, could
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  neither read or write. Lord Plunkett, the Governor of New Zealand, greatly
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  admired mister Flanahan and showed him much kindness. D. C. Ward,
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  the Prime Minister, made him an honored guest of the Parliament, and wherever
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  he went, his fine bearing and culture made an excellent impression. When he
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  left, he received the thanks of all the Christian churches. A similar welcome
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  was extended to him in Australia, and there he was for some time the
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  guest of Lord Chief Justice and Lady Way. He returned to his work in
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  England and found time to write several books, which had a wide circulation and
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  did much good. Such were the demands for his services that only a small
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  percentage of the requests could be acceded to. But he led a busy life
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  and exerted much influence for good. In nineteen fourteen he was taken ill,
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  and a year later he had to retire from active work. This was a
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  great trial to one who so loved his work, but he gradually became weaker.
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  He died on March thirtieth, nineteen eighteen, and his passing was regretted
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  by thousands throughout the world. Members of the British Parliament, mayors, aldermen,
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  and councilors of London and the provinces joined the breaved family in the church
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  and placed flowers upon his grave. All were glad to honor the memory of
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  one who, though he had started life under heavy handicaps, had made his
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  life one of blessing and usefulness to a vast number of people. End of
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  Chapter thirteen,