WESLEYAN-METHODIST MAGAZINE. APRIL, 1866. MEMOIR OF THE REV. WRIGHT SHOVELTON. THE following pages are designed to illustrate the grace of God as seen in the holy life, the useful labours, and the triumphant death of one of those faithful, toiling, and successful men who have adorned the ranks of the Wesleyan ministry. He was not one who lived in an atmosphere of religious excitement, his work being rather that of the zealous pastor. Though his name was little known beyond a limited circle, yet, in his sphere, he carried about with him a heart glowing with celestial fires, and surrounded himself with numbers who will regard him through eternity as their spiritual father in Christ Jesus. ME. SHOVELTON was born in the neighbourhood of Leigh, Lancashire, on March 1st, 1808; neither of his parents being at that time professors of religion. But through instructions received in the Sabbath-school he was early impressed with the duty of consecration to Christ; and when he had reached his eleventh year, amid the influences of a blessed revival, being deeply convinced of his guilt and danger, he sought, with bitter weeping, the Divine mercy. In child-like faith he made the atonement of Jesus the ground of his hope, and obtained witness that his iniquity was pardoned and that he was accepted in the Beloved. Those were happy days: the peace "which passeth understanding" kept his heart and mind; and so sensible was he of the love of God that he found no work so easy as to praise and pray. The Bible now became the book of his delight. All the means of grace were precious to his young heart. It was not long, however, before he was turned aside from his career of devotion to God. By his playmates he was subjected to scorn, and derision, and petty acts of persecution; and, failing to cultivate the spirit of prayer, he gave way, on one occasion, to angry retort, and so lost his confidence and peace. Happy for him had there been some friend at hand at once to guide him again to Him who is "a God of pardons." But, sinking into despair at the remembrance of his sin, he forsook the means of grace, avoided the company of pious friends, and became an open and avowed backslider from Christ and His church. The misery of his mind was now intense and unceasing. entreaty to return to the fold, refused to read or converse on anything relating to his soul, and made rapid progress in a course of sin and alienation from God. VOL. XII.-FIFTH SERIES. It was by a return to the Sabbath-school, when he had reached his seventeenth year, that his downward course was stayed. One of his sisters had repeatedly urged him to offer his services as a teacher; and though as yet all was darkness and unhappiness within, he complied with the request, and went back amidst those scenes which six years before had been his chief delight. He had not been long engaged in this important work when Mr. Richard Battersby, the superintendent, invited a few of the younger teachers to meet him for conversation and prayer. Wright was amongst the number; and, during the singing of a hymn, was filled with distress at the thought that by a life of sin he might be a curse instead of a blessing to all around him. But when he was invited again to meet in class, the enmity of the "carnal mind" was aroused; and to screen himself from the possibility of being drawn to the meeting, he selected that very evening for a visit to the annual "fair" of a distant village. Here, however, the mercy of God was conspicuously displayed in arresting the wanderer; for by a reckless exposure of himself to the cold and damp amidst his indulgence in dissipations, he was speedily brought to a bed of suffering. Now all was gloom, and fear, and remorse. The guilty past rose up before his mind, presenting in vivid colours his broken vows, neglected warnings, and despised reproofs; while the future world displayed nothing to his apprehension but the "blackness of darkness" for ever. Then arose the agonizing cry, "God be merciful to me a sinner!" but with every prayer there was mingled doubt, and anxiously was the question asked,— "Will mercy itself be so kind To spare such a rebel as me? Such plenteous redemption in Thee." By the blessing of Heaven a few weeks brought the sufferer to convalescence; and on the first Sabbath of the year 1826 he was once more found in the house of God. Mr. Anthony Morgan was the preacher; who discoursed on the parable of the barren fig-tree. Nothing could be more appropriate. Our young friend saw that the various resources of spiritual husbandry had been employed upon himself, and employed in vain. There was no fruit to reward the toil of the husbandman; and he trembled lest the word should go forth, "Cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground?" A fortnight after the penitent mourner was found restored to the class from which he had wandered. Still, however, one thing was lacking. Subdued and changed he was, but not pardoned and renewed; and as his physical strength increased, his spiritual impressions died away, until again he halted between two opinions. At length, however, in the strength of grace, he broke the fetters that bound him, and formed the resolution that, be the consequences what they might, he would consecrate his service to the Lord. From that eventful decision he never wavered. He was henceforth on the Lord's side, to act or suffer, to live or to die, for Him. All the feelings of his soul were now concentrated in a desire for The conviction of his sin and danger became conscious pardon. deeper and deeper. He felt himself to be indeed a miserable sinner, scarcely daring to hope that he should ever enjoy the peace of a restored prodigal. So passed three anxious months, when at length the day of liberty was ushered in. He was in the weekly classmeeting,-blessed place for a mourner in Zion!-many prayers had been breathed from his broken heart, mingled with the fervent intercessions of his brethren in the Lord, when that inspiring word came with power to his soul,-"He that spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?" In a moment he sprung from the verge of despair into the full assurance of hope. The "how shall he not ?" of that wonderful passage opened before him the fulness of God's pardoning mercy in Christ. He who had thought that there was but little ground of hope, now saw that there was no ground for fear. The love which could prompt so stupendous a substitution in his behalf, must verily be a love which could withhold from him nothing that would be for his good. Thus he pondered; and the Holy Spirit, revealing to him the dying Saviour as the propitiation for sin, gave him the inward assurance that he, even he, was again reconciled to God. "What a change!" he shouted for joy. As well might a thousand objectors have united to tell him that he never saw the sun, or beheld the beauties of nature, as try to convince him that there was no reality in his renewed and happy state. It brought with it heavenly credentials, and conferred upon the desponding mourner ineffable peace. It was on the first Sabbath of the year 1829-three years from the time when his conscience was so powerfully impressed by Mr. Morgan's sermon on the barren fig-tree-that he preached his first sermon. Until that time he had respectfully but positively declined every invitation to occupy the pulpit. Yet, impressed with the thought that he might some day be called to that important work, he had prayerfully redeemed the time. The Bible was diligently read. The invaluable Works of Wesley and Fletcher were attentively perused. Dr. Watts on "The Improvement of the Mind," and other books of equal worth, were made to contribute towards his growth in knowledge. With praiseworthy energy and perseverance he strove that every hour should be devoted to the high and holy ends of his existence. Still, it was "in weakness, in fear, and in much trembling," that he entered on the momentous task of "preaching the word." For a time he was overwhelmed by a sense of the responsibilities which it involved. But, encouraged by the kindness of the people, by |