CHAPTER X.

AN ALARMED PARISH.



In the same month as Mary Bosanquet was cast out of her father's home
to commence life anew as a toiler for God, John Fletcher settled down
to his work in the parish of his choice.

Madeley lies three or four miles from the foot of the Wrekin in a
winding glen, through which flows the River Severn. So far it was a
place of beauty, but in no other sense. The colliers and iron-workers
of Coalbrookdale and Madeley were ignorant, brutal, and much given to
drunkenness and profanity. The Sabbath was ignored, decency frequently
flouted, bull-baiting a favourite pastime, and religion a matter of
coarse ridicule and bitter scorn. After their day's work the
inhabitants frequently held nights of revelry, lasting until dawn,
when dancing, drunkenness, and obscenity reigned supreme.

Fletcher commenced his campaign with great earnestness and zeal. He
had no idea of contenting himself with preaching to a handful of
feeble folk twice upon a Sunday; he counted every day lost if he had
not in it brought some of his people face to face with the
requirements of God. In cottages, at street corners, or in the church,
he held a service just as often as he could gather sufficient people
together; he visited the public-houses, and even appeared at the