He was too busy about this period to spend much time in correspondence; but a few of his letters, though short, I must introduce. They will show the strength and delicacy of his natural feelings, and how tenderly he was alive to all the charities of human life. A sentence is sometimes more indicative of feeling and sentiment than a volume.

"ST. ANDREW’S, February, 1825.

"MY DEAR MOTHER — If ever in my life I felt quite oppressed and burdened with kindness, it was on the receipt of your very kind communication after my brother’s death; and I am quite ashamed that I have not long before now found means to express my gratitude. My friends seem to have vied with each other, who should be kindest, and who should pay me most attention; and had I not been quite overburdened with business, you should have had a letter long before now. At the time you sent, I had a very severe cold, which seemed to show some disposition to settle in my breast; but I am now tolerably well again. Nothing, however, could prevent my good landlady, on the recommendation of Mr. Smith, who called on me, from ordering flannels for me, which of course has greatly assisted in emptying my slender purse. I have just received my father’s letter of the 4th, and am exceedingly happy to hear that the church have all come to one mind concerning Mr. Jack. The choosing of a minister is in general one of the most trying times to our churches; and I think we have much reason to bless God that roots of bitterness have not been permitted to spring up and trouble us. Things are going on pretty well among us. The people round about seem to be hungering and thirsting after righteousness. Mr. Adam preached in the country on Friday, at a new station, where the people themselves had requested that some one should come. There is a great want of labourers — they have pressed Mr. R-- into the service, but still there is employment which is more than enough for them."

"ST. ANDREW’S, February 22, 1825.

"My DEAR BROTHER — I have sometimes blamed, or rather pitied you, (for it is not a legitimate subject of blame,) for a want of feeling; and I am quite sorry I have ever done so; for the deep pathos that runs through some of your letters, which are, notwithstanding, expressed in all the unaffected and unstudied simplicity of nature, convinces me that I have been very far mistaken. I recollect of being very much struck by your truly pathetical, yet artless account of the death of T. Greig, which was contained in a letter you sent me about a year ago; and I have been still more affected by your very touching allusion, in your last, to the death of our brother. I would indulge the hope that this event may have proved a blessing to us as a family. In all the communications I have received from home, there has, I think, been displayed a spirit of greater tenderness than usual. With your own short letter I have been particularly pleased. You could not have given me a more satisfactory proof that this dispensation has been in some degree blessed to you than the feeling of self-condemnation which your letter breathes."

"MY DEAR SISTER — I have the expectation of seeing you so soon, that it may be thought almost unnecessary for me now to write to you: but I cannot think of letting the session pass without sending you a letter. I was gratified to hear from Mr. Muir that you had written a letter for me. I am quite sorry you did not send it, for I am sure that those very things which seemed blemishes to you would have enhanced its value to me. It is an easy and unstudied effusion of sentiment which constitutes the great charm of epistolary correspondence. I wish you would always write to me the simple dictates of your own heart without any external interference whatever, and with the fullest confidence, that, what you write will never meet any eye but my own. I hope to see you now in a few weeks, and to be able to devote a good part of my time in the summer months to your education. I hope you have been going on with your French. I should have written you a much longer letter had it not been that I expect so soon to see you personally."

In these letters the feelings of nature are expressed in a very interesting manner. The letter to his brother contains some very delicate touches, and manifests much tact and discrimination, as well as great ingenuousness and deep concern for the salvation of his soul. May his prayers and expostulations not be in vain!

The two following, though the last is without date, appear to have been written during this session.

"MY VERY DEAR FRIEND—I cannot think of leaving you, as we parted last night, without some expression of what I feel at your often repeated kindness which has entailed upon me a debt of gratitude which I can never discharge. All that I am, and all that I have, are devoted, I trust, to the service of God; and the only way that I can ever repay the kindness of Christian friends is by redoubling my ardour in the great cause for which we all live, and for which we all die. If this shall be the effect of your generosity, it will produce to you a double reward, and to me a double benefit. You will not only enjoy the thought that you have gained the lasting gratitude and good wishes of a fellow-pilgrim in this world, but when this world, and all the things that are therein, shall be burnt up, you will be rewarded a thousand-fold as having contributed, in some degree, through that unworthy individual, to promote the interests of a cause, the noblest that ever occupied the thoughts of men or of angels; I had almost said, of God himself.

"And if your kindness prove to me, as I trust it will, a stimulus to greater exertion in the cause to which I am devoted, that will be an infinitely greater benefit than all the advantages it may directly confer. Thus may the Lord make your kindness a double blessing both to the giver and to the receiver. And to his name be all the thanks and all the glory."

The two preceding letters would do credit to any pen as specimens of natural and unaffected epistolary correspondence; while the sentiments they contain, and the spirit which they breathe, would not be unworthy of the most mature Christian. The fears respecting the future, which he so beautifully expresses, were never realized. His tender bark was indeed ill fitted to encounter the storms and perils of this world; and therefore infinite goodness brought it speedily to "the land of glory and repose."

Dr. Chalmers’ class seems to have occupied the principal share in his attention during this winter; and in moral philosophy and political economy, he appears to have made great proficiency. Besides his notes of the Professor’s lectures, and the papers which he wrote on the various subjects which were assigned, or voluntarily undertaken, he composed a synopsis, or analysis of Smith’s Wealth of Nations, the favourite class-book of Dr. Chalmers, and which has contributed more to produce correct views of society, and of the science which is now so popular, than any production of the age. My young friend read this work evidently with great care; and though he must have generally admired it, and agreed in its statements and reasonings, he did not blindly adopt them. His essay on the Distinction between Productive and Unproductive Labour, will evince that he could think for himself, and discover even in the able work of that most profound thinker, positions that are not altogether tenable. [See Appendix E.]

Every one must admire the acuteness and talent displayed in this essay. More than common discernment was necessary to catch the author of the Wealth of Nations tripping; but still greater talent was required to detect the fallacy and expose the mistaken reasonings by which the theory was supported. A discovery, when made, often appears very simple and easy; but the mind which makes that discovery, and the process which leads to it, belong not to the common order, and may be far removed from vulgar apprehension.

Among his papers, which were written about this time, are several fragments, on subjects of great importance, and while I feel deep regret that they are imperfect, I cannot throw aside even the fragments of such a mind. The first is on Written Language, in which his object appears to have been to prove that it is of divine origin. This is a view of the subject not peculiar indeed to him, but still not usually adopted by philosophers and philogists; though I confess it has long appeared to me the only tenable hypothesis. The employment of heiroglyphics, and the use of them to record facts of a certain kind, are easily accounted for; but the discovery of alphabetic writing is a very different matter. The extraordinary simplicity of alphabetic characters, and their still more extraordinary power, render it improbable that they should be the discovery of chance, or the invention of a barbarous people: while the impossibility of arriving at any great degree of civilization or scientific advancement without them, supposes that the discovery must have preceded. If reason and language are the gifts of God, it is not going too far to say, that both are imperfect and very limited in their operation without the use of a written language. In order to preserve and authenticate a divine revelation, a fixed medium of that revelation seems absolutely necessary; and, perhaps, it would not be difficult to suggest reasons amounting to high probability, that when the law was given to Moses, the first knowledge of alphabetic writing, and the first specimen of it were then communicated. But this is not the place to pursue such an inquiry. [See Appendix F.]

Among his other pursuits during this busy session, he wrote several discourses on passages of Scripture. Some of them were read to Mr. Lothian, others of them to a small number of his fellow-students; but none of them, I believe, was used in any other way. They are all illustrative of the soundness and clearness of his mind; the accuracy and extent of his knowledge of the Scriptures; the philosophical turn of his thinking; and his prevailing disposition to connect all his pursuits with the missionary enterprise, in which even then, he ardently wished to engage. I am very much deceived if the discourse, which I give as a specimen, will not be considered an extraordinary effort of so young a mind. [See Appendix G.]

I do not know whether the writer of this admirable discourse ever saw the "Hints on Missions," by Mr. Douglas; but there is a passage in that little work so applicable to the subject of this discourse, and so important in itself, that I shall here take the liberty to introduce it: —"While belief is connected with truth, we shall never want converts; and while the belief of truth impels to the communication of truth, we shall never want preachers.

"‘I believed, and therefore have I spoken.’ Here is a measure derived from heaven to judge of the sincerity of belief. The laws of the human mind are not circumscribed within degrees and parallels. He who has no desire to proclaim the gospel abroad, has none to proclaim it at home, and has no belief in it himself; whatever professions he may make, are hollow and hypocritical. Bodies of Christians who make no efforts to christianize others, are Christians but in name; and the ages in which no attempts are made to send the glad tidings to heathen countries, are the dark ages of Christianity, however they may suppose themselves enlightened and guided by philosophy and moderation.

"The ages of Christian purity have ever been the ages of Christian exertion. At the commencement of Christianity, he who believed in the gospel, became also a preacher of the gospel. ‘We believe, and therefore we speak.’ The effort was correspondent to the belief, and the success to the effort. Christians grew and multiplied, and their very multiplication insured a fresh renewal of their increase. The primitive prolific blessing was upon them, and one became a thousand."

If the subject of these memoirs borrowed the hint from the above passage, of which I have no evidence, it is very clear that he has duly improved upon it. His discourse exists but in the first rough draft, and appears therefore under every disadvantage. I have not altered one sentence, and scarcely corrected even a word; yet with all these drawbacks, it affords evidence that it is the production of a master-mind. The argument is exceedingly ingenious, and is sustained with a degree of ability and felicity of illustration, which reflects the highest credit on the powers of the author. The simplicity of his own views of religion, and the deep earnestness with which he pleads for the full practical influence of Christianity are truly delightful. How happy would it be for the individuals themselves, for the church, and the world, did all who enter on the office of the ministry feel the force of the high and hallowed views which are here stated.

The references to natural religion, as it is called, contained in this discourse, induced me to introduce an essay on that subject, which he wrote as a class exercise at the close of this session. The subject is one on which a great deal of ignorance has been discovered, and a vast portion of error propagated. The religion of nature will, I fear, go a very little way to inform the understanding, still less to regulate the affections, and no way at all to satisfy God, or pacify the conscience of a sinner. Whether unassisted reason is capable of accomplishing all that my young friend, with many others, contends for, is not perfectly clear; but no one can doubt the admirable and beautiful manner in which he conducts his own argument, and the justice which he does to the claims of the revelation of God. [See Appendix H.]

From his correspondence I select the following letter to a young friend, who was then about to sustain a severe loss in his mother, a most amiable and eminently devoted Christian. It is marked with much tenderness and faithfulness.

It was towards the close of the session, he wrote for the prize at the Moral Philosophy class, proposed by Dr. Chalmers. It appears, that, till near the end of the term, he had no intention of becoming a competitor, and that it was not till within four or five days of the period fixed for the giving in of the essays, that he set himself in good earnest to the task. To this, and several other subjects of importance he refers, in the following letter to his father: —

"ST. ANDREW’S, April 18, 1825.

"MY DEAR FATHER — I am happy to be able to inform you, that I did not speak at the meeting at Cupar, nor ever had the slightest intention of doing so. I have been intreated by some of our friends, and have been reproved for want of zeal by others, because I did not come forward and preach in the country, but I have withstood both intreaties and reproofs. Mr. Reid has been pressed into the service, and even Mr. -- , at the risk of being called to an account by the Presbytery, preached one Sabbath at Denino. I acknowledge that I have much higher ideas of preaching than are generally entertained among our brethren; and I do sincerely think, that it has been one of the greatest evils (perhaps, for a time, a necessary one,) in our system, to bring forward people to preach who were not rightly qualified for this most important of all engagements. I think, from what you say in yours, you do not seem to have a right idea of the prize essay which I said I was writing. Most perfectly do I agree with you, that I stand no chance of gaining it; but, at the same time, I should have thought it a breach of duty, and was afraid it might offend Dr. Chalmers, did I not give it in. They were entirely motives of this nature, which induced me, after I had burned an essay I had written, in order to compete for the prize, to write another when the time was almost run out. I am sure you will not think me capable of so much presumption, as to expect that a production which cost me only five days’ labour, at spare hours, should come into competition with those which have cost my competitors the continued application of four months.

"I feel sincerely grateful for your letter. It is exactly what I need at present. I feel the praise which is of men, to be one of the severest trials I can meet with, and to be more especially the besetting temptation of an academic career."

The modesty which formed a marked feature of his character, is strongly indicated in this letter. Though he had been frequently urged to preach, and to speak at some public meetings, he had decidedly refused to do so. He considered himself much too young to appear in public; and in his ideas of preaching, I most fully concur. Those who did not know him, might suppose there was something of affectation in his intimations of having no expectation of the prize. But his friends at College, as well as myself, are persuaded that this was really the state of his mind, notwithstanding the effort which he made.

"He was distinguished," says Mr. Duff, "for a remarkable diffidence in his own abilities, uncommon though they were. An instance of this occurred during his second session. The subject of a prize essay was proposed by the Professor of Logic. Mr. Urquhart began to write the essay, and brought it nearly to a close; when, upon readnig it, he was so dissatisfied with its merits, that he threw it into the fire He was, however, encouraged to renew the attempt, and prosecuted the subject with vigour. He submitted the performance to a fellow-student, whose tried abilities rendered him capable of estimating the talent with which it was executed. He was much struck with the superior excellence of the essay, and strongly advised Mr. Urquhart to give it to the Professor. Notwithstanding this encouragement, having once more read the essay himself he was so much displeased with its execution, that he burnt it without any hesitation."

The highest prize was assigned him for the essay composed under the circumstances adverted to in the letter to his father. The opinion of Dr. Chalmers is evident, from his having awarded it, and from the sentence which he has written upon the last page of the essay itself. In this opinion, not only did the class in general concur, but even those individuals from whom he had carried off the boon. [See Appendix I.]

Besides gaining the first prize at the Moral Philosophy Class, on the subject prescribed by the Professor; he gained also the first prize for the best essay read in the Class. He had also distinguished himself in the private Greek class; and, indeed, in all the departments to which he directed his attention. "In estimating his success," says a fellow-student, "it must be remembered, that there never was at St. Andrew’s a more brilliant assemblage of talent and of genius, attracted from all parts of the kingdom, by the fame of Dr. Chalmers, than there was during the session of 1824-25." In this opinion, it will be seen from Dr. Chalmers’s letter, how fully he concurs.

Perhaps I cannot do better than introduce, at the conclusion of the course of Moral Philosophy, the account of him, with which I have been favoured by another of his fellow-students, and a competitor along with him for the prize. It contains some traits of character worthy of being preserved, and besides showing the estimate which was formed of him by others, is highly creditable to the talents, and still more the generous feelings of a fellow-candidate. It is not necessary that I should subscribe to every sentiment which it expresses; but the description is, on the whole, correct and faithful: —

"This disposition was as beautifully illustrated as the action was characteristic of his modesty, in his conduct on that day in which the prizes were distributed, at the close of the session, and of which he was to bear away some of the most distinguished and honourable. While the more ambitious and showy youths, had selected a distant station in the hall, that they might advance to the spot where the prizes were distributed, through a line of admiring spectators, Mr. Urquhart had shrunk unobserved into the corner of a window, near to the seat of the Professors, and no sooner was his name announced, than he had again drawn back and disappeared. There was scarce time to put the usual inquiry of who he was, when a new candidate for attention was summoned. The same simple, unostentatious manner, and aversion to display, which appear in this action, was the result of his general habits and feelings, and not of singular or accidental occurrence. It was in consistence with the other parts of his conduct. No one knew when Mr. Urquhart entered or retired from his class. He had no circle of literary dependants who crowded around him, to receive his philosophical dicta, or his canons of criticism. Yet, to those who observed him, there was something in his appearance in the class, singular and interesting. He had an awkward habit of biting his nails, a practice in him not disagreeable, it was so much of a piece with the simplicity of his look. His head generally inclined to one side, and as he sat it was supported by his arm. This was his usual position while listening to the lecture. As Dr. Chalmers’s animation increased, Mr. Urquhart gradually elevated his head, and when he rose into eloquence, you would have seen his arm drop by his side, and his eye steadfastly fixed, looking the orator broad in the face. I know not whether Dr. Chalmers marked these changes in the attitude of his pupil; but if he had, they would have afforded no inaccurate test of the degree to which his eloquence had risen. These incidents are of little value in themselves, but they will convey more truth and effect than any description of the disposition and manners of Mr. Urquhart.

"Of his intellectual character, the most distinguised feature, I would say, was a sound understanding; more clear and judicious, however, than either subtle or comprehensive. Endowed with a mind thoughtful and considerate, he adopted none of the rash speculations and dazzling paradoxes which so often delude the inquirer of his age. Temperate and cautious in the exercise of his own judgment, he was the less disposed to receive the unripe and hasty inventions of others. In a conversational society of his fellow-students, for the discussion of the opinions on moral and political philosophy, that were delivered from the chair, Mr. Urquhart took an intelligent and sometimes active part. The subjects were intricate, and did not admit of an easy flow of conversation. But, such as they were, Mr. Urquhart, when he hazarded his sentiments, generally spoke with clearness and precision. Profound remarks, exhibiting mature knowledge and previous speculative habits, were neither required on such an occasion, nor expected. Plain and natural in his tunrs of thought, and not venturing beyond what he understood, he escaped those unintelligible extravagances into which more fearless thinkers on intricate subjects not unfrequently fall. If he was unsuccessful in communicating new instruction by his remarks, he pleased from the simplicity with which he expressed ideas that were familiar; and every one eagerly invited and listened with pleasure to Mr. Urquhart as he spoke. There was an air of candour and truth in whatever he said, and the modesty with which he urged his opinions, was only surpassed by the readiness and good nature with which he retracted them when convinced of his error. His name will not soon be forgotten by the members of that society of which, if he was not the brightest ornament by his talent, none was more beloved.