Among his papers I find the
notes of a speech which he delivered at a missionary meeting at Cupar of
Fife, on a Monday evening, in the month of February. It was written late
on the Sabbath night preceding, and early on the Monday morning. He walked
to Cupar, delievered his address, and returned early the next morning to
St. Andrew’s. It is full of ardour, and replete with Christian feeling,
though perhaps he carries some of his views a little too far. I should
have given it in this place, as well deserving of insertion; but being
somewhat similar to an address afterwards delivered at St. Andrew’s, on
the same subject, I omit it to make room for other matter. Such an address
by one so young, could not fail to produce a very powerful effect. I pray
that those who read it, may feel it equally with those who heard it.
Much as John’s mind was
engaged with foreign objects, he did not forget those who had a claim upon
him at home. His own family, and a few particular friends were the objects
of his warmest attachment; and for the salvation of some of them he
laboured faithfully with themselves, and wrestled mightily with God. I
venture to give the following to his brother, as a specimen of combined
fidelity and tenderness of rare occurrence. There is also in that letter,
and in the one which follows, to his mother, a manifestation of that
exquisite sensibility, which characterized him, and which made his
devotion to the work of a missionary no ordinary sacrifice. The prospect
of leaving his country and his father’s house, was to him one of
inexpressible anguish; but the consideration of what was due to the
authority and glory of Christ, impelled him forward. With talents not
inferior to those of Martyn, he had feelings no less powerful than those
of that devoted missionary; and though he was not honoured to follow him
in his glorious career, yet as having it in his heart, I doubt not he now
inherits with him a portion of his reward.
"ST. ANDREW’S,
February 10, 1825.
"MY VERY DEAR BROTHER — I
have long thought of writing to you; and, indeed, had a letter half
finished a week or two ago. I have at last been able to get a day nearly
clear of engagements, and I am glad to spend it in making up a packet of
letters for my friends in Perth. I begin with you; and, as I wish, if
possible, to get five or six letters written, you will excuse me, if I am
more brief than I otherwise should be in writing to an only
brother. I have often wished, my dear David, to have some closer
intercourse with you than I have yet had, on religious subjects, either by
conversation or by letter. The latter method is the only one in my power,
at present; and, in some respects I think it the most advantageous, as we
can express our sentiments both more deliberately, and more freely than we
perhaps could in personal intercourse. I hope you will not think me
obtrusive in bringing this subject before you. Believing, as I do, that
not only a right understanding of the gospel, but also, a real belief of
its truths, is necessary to our happiness, either here, or in that
mysterious state which is after death, you cannot surely wonder that I
should be anxious to know the feelings of my dearest friends, in regard to
this important subject. We, my dear brother, have enjoyed very
distinguished privileges, in having a knowledge of the gospel from our
infancy. But although early religious instruction is a most inestimable
blessing, it has also its disadvantages. We, who know the gospel, and
whose early prejudices, (the strongest of all prejudices,) are in favour
of the gospel, are very apt to rest in our knowledge, or in our attachment
to certain religious opinions, as a proof of our faith, and consequently
of a state of safety in regard to another world. Now, I think, it is of
the very greatest importance, to remember that there can be no belief
where there is no feeling. In the ordinary affairs of life, we
are disposed at once to admit, that a man cannot believe anything, without
being suitably impressed by it. And how then should we be for a moment
deluded into the opinion, that in this one instance, where the truths are
calculated to make the very deepest impressions —in this, and in this
alone, these truths can be believed without being felt? Would you think me
censorious, if I would say, I feared you were not a Christian?
Would you not be quite startled, if I said I suspected you to be an
infidel? I do not mean, my dear David, to make either of these assertions,
far less to do so in a spirit of censoriousness. But I will confess to
you, that I have an uncertainty of the matter, which fills me with the
greatest concern on your account. We start at the name of infidel.
And we are very apt to think, that a man may be unregenerate, and
yet very far removed from anything like infidelity. We are very apt to
think that there may be such a thing as a half Christian, one who is
almost a Christian.. But it is silly to be deluded by mere names. The
Bible tells us, that ‘he who believeth shall be saved, and he who
believeth not, shall be condemned.’ We are told of no transition
state in another world, half-way between heaven and hell, or nearer the
one than the other. No; we must either rise to inconceivable glory, or
sink into unutterable woe. The grand question is, Do we believe the
gospel, or do we not? This, and this alone, fixes our after
state If we believe, we shall reign with saints and angels, if we
do not believe, if we have hesitated whether we should receive the gospel
or not, if we have been even almost persuaded to believe; and if
moreover, we have been possessed of all the knowledge and even all the
graces that can adorn an unregenerate character; still, notwithstanding
all, if matters stop here, we must be condemned throughout eternity, to
herd with the very outcasts of society, with blasphemers and atheists,
with liars and murderers. This is a very fearful view of the matter, but
is it not the view which the Scriptures present? And it is this view of
the matter that leads me to fear, and even (I acknowledge) to suspect,
that my own brother may be among the number of those who are securely, and
even cheerfully, walking on to the pit of endless perdition. This is an
awful thought, and I have felt its awfulness. Often have I wept from the
bitterness of the thought, that we may soon part never to meet again; and,
excepting the prayers I have offered for my own forgiveness, the
most earnest petitions I have ever presented at the throne of mercy, have
been those I have put up for a brother’s salvation. I believe there
is an efficacy in prayer, and I am not without the hope that these prayers
will be answered. I have sometimes thought, that I could see that you had
a conviction that all was not right with you; that, after all, there was a
something in Christianity which you had not experienced. I could remember,
that such was the state of my own mind, when the Spirit of God first
strove with my rebellious heart, and the hope dawned upon me, that this
might be the beginning of his working on your mind. That hope has often
been blasted by your indifference, or your open rebellion against God;
but, though often blasted, I will still continue to cherish it. The Lord
grant that it may be realized. I have written these lines for your own
private perusal; and, therefore, I laid aside that veil of propriety, by
which, in ordinary life, we are accustomed to conceal our feelings, and I
have laid open my heart before you. I do not think you have the hardness
to laugh at my concern on your account; but, if even this should be the
effect of this letter, still I shall not regret that I have told you all I
feel. This letter has been preceded and accompanied with prayer, and part
of it has been written in tears. God is sometimes pleased to work by the
most insignificant agents; and I am not without the hope, that by the
blessing of his Spirit, these confused expressions of a brother’s
heart-felt desire for your salvation, may be made the means of softening
your heart, and leading you to receive the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ
with humility and with joy.
"There is one circumstance,
my dear brother, that has especially led me to open my heart before you at
present, and to urge thus solemnly and earnestly upon you, the acceptance
of the gospel. You have heard, probably, that I have determined to spend
my life in preaching to the heathen. I feel that even the innocent
pleasures of this life are all of them unsatisfactory; and, in many
instances, tend to draw the mind from heavenly objects. And, from all the
information I can collect, I am convinced that I can serve my God more
effectually, by declaring his name where it never has been declared
before, than by repeating the gospel to those who have often heard, and as
often refused it. But the thought that I am soon to leave this land,
never to return, makes me feel it a more urgent duty while I remain,
to press the truths of the gospel on the attention of those who are my
countrymen; and especially to warn most solemnly, and most earnestly to
persuade those who are dearest to me by the ties of nature. A few
months, my brother, and our earthly intercourse must be for ever at an
end. Shall I hope to meet you in heaven? O give me an answer to this
question, for on yourself its answer depends. I confess that, in the
prospect of leaving my parents, one-half of the great burden that lies
upon my mind, would be removed, could I confidently rely on the religious
principles of my sister, and especially of yourself, who, in a short time,
will be their only son, and almost their only earthly protector.
There are occurrences that must here present themselves to your mind,
which you must know, wound my feelings most deeply in the prospect of
separation; but these I will not call to mind. O that the God of the
families of Israel may cause his peace to abide upon my father’s house!
"You know that my parents
feel deeply at the thought of my departure. I am sure, that if they could
feel a thorough confidence in you, my brother, it would go far to
reconcile them to what I believe to be the will of God concerning me. I
know, my dear David, that you are often placed in difficult circumstances;
but a belief of the gospel, and a spirit of prayer, will go far to enable
you to act calmly and meekly under the most trying circumstances. Believe
in Jesus Christ, and look to him, and in looking to him, you will reflect
his image; you will become like him. Thus, and thus alone, will you learn
like him, when you are reviled, not to revile again; and even when you
suffer, not to threaten.
"You see, my brother, I
have many reasons for urging upon you these solemn warnings and earnest
entreaties. I beseech you to believe in Christ. I beseech you to take his
yoke upon you, and learn of him, for ‘his yoke is easy, and his burden is
light.’ I beseech you to learn of him to be meek and lowly. I entreat you
to do these things, if you would save your own soul: if you would fulfil
the best and most earnest wishes of an affectionate and only brother; if
you would, in some degree, alleviate the sorrow of one who is soon to part
with all he holds dear on earth; and finally, if you would comfort our
bereaved parents, if you would make up the breach which the resistless
hand of death has so lately made, and which the imperious calls of duty
soon must make again, in that little family which I must try to think no
longer my home."
"ST. ANDREW’S, February 14,
1826.
"MY DEAR MOTHER — My work of letter
writing has taken up nearly all my private time, for two days; and I still
feel that there are some who may be expecting to hear from me, to whom it
will be quite impossible for me to write. Although I have written to my
father, (which I always think the same as writing to you,) yet I cannot
think of letting my parcel go, without sending a few lines expressly to
yourself. All my friends seem doubly dear to me, since I have thought of
parting with them. There was nothing in the prospect of a separation, my
dear mother, that gave me greater pain, than the thought of wounding your
feelings; and, accordingly, in my late visit, I was very much rejoiced to
hear you speak so calmly and resignedly on the subject. Even in this life,
God has promised to restore a hundred fold anything we give up for his
sake. And I do think, that even these trials in themselves carry a
blessing along with them. The prospect of an early separation from all I
hold dear on earth, bitter as the thought is, has, notwithstanding, proved
to me a real blessing. I have felt an inexpressible dreariness in looking
forward, while I think only of the things that are seen and temporal. But
then, the very dreariness which seems to hang over my earthly prospects,
has led me to look more earnestly to heaven, as my home, and the place of
my rest. And, if we can but steadily fix the eye of faith on the heavenly
inheritance, the glory of the promised land will shed a brightness even
over the gloomiest part of this valley of tears. I know, my dear mother,
that you have many trials; and I could wish much to soothe the declining
years of that dear friend, who watched over my helpless infancy. I would
like to be able to make some return for the anxious hours, and the
sleepless nights, I have cost you. This I may never have in my power; but
wherever my lot may be cast, I shall never forget the tenderness of a
mother’s love; never shall I forget the affectionate solicitude which
brought you to our bed-side every evening, to see that all was safe with
us, ere your own eye could close in sleep; never shall I forget —. But it
is wrong to indulge in this. Let us forget the things that are behind, and
rather delight to dwell on the glory and the happiness that are before us.
Oh, how highly favoured are we, my mother, with the blessed hope of a
glorious immortality! God, it is true, has removed one of your children;
and, for His sake, you are called to give up another; but still, though
the cup may be bitter, it is a Father’s hand that has mingled it. ‘Trials
make. the promise sweet.’ You will be able now, more than ever, to enjoy
the delightful assurance, that the Lord will be to his people a portion,
better than of sons and daughters.
"And again, if we but think
of what Christ has done for us, we shall not think any sacrifice too great
that we can make for him. He left the bosom of the Father, and emptied
himself of his glory, and suffered more than ever man suffered, and
died for us. Should we not then feel all the force of the argument,
which tells us we are not our own, having been bought by Christ, when he
gave his blood as our ransom price? Is it not then a reasonable service,
to offer our bodies a living sacrifice to him? And then, there is the
blest assurance, that if we suffer with him, we shall also reign
with him."
The following is to the afflicted
friend, to whom some of his former letters were addressed: —
"ST. ANDREW’S, March 5, 1826.
"MY VERY DEAR FRIEND — You
can easily conceive how difficult it is for a young person, enjoying in
all its fulness, the inestimable blessing of health, and whose mind is
ever actively engaged with one subject or another, all at once to place
himself in the circumstances of an aged and long afflicted Christian. Yet
this I must try to do, ere I can write in a strain of sympathy with your
feelings; But though I cannot enter as I could wish, into your peculiar
circumstances, or write with all that closeness of sympathy, or administer
that experimental consolation, which the person could, who had seen as
much of life’s chequered scene, and passed through like trials with
yourself; yet there are always some subjects on which Christians feel a
common interest, however different their circumstances, and however varied
their experience. The great objects of our salvation are alike interesting
in youth and in age; in joy and in sorrow; in health and in sickness; in
seasons of prosperity, and in the day of trial. What was said by a learned
heathen of his favourite studies, (most beautifully, but most
extravagantly in his application of it,) might with great propriety be
used by the Christian in speaking of the truths of the Bible: "These
studies cherish youth, soothe old age, adorn prosperity, and form in
adversity a refuge and consolation; at home they are our delight, abroad
they are no incumbrance; they are with us by night, they journey with us,
and in our country retreat they are with us still." What a pity that
worldly men should be so enthusiastic in the praise of their favourite
pursuits, while Christians are so dull and careless about objects so much
more highly deserving of their love. How few Christians are there who
could heartily, and from their own experience, apply to the joys and the
consolations of the gospel, those ardent expressions of delight which a
heathen philosopher employs in regard to merely human learning. So true is
it, that the children of this world are wiser in their generation, than
the children of light.
"I should suppose, that to
an aged Christian who cannot look for much longer continuance in the
church below, the state and employment of the church above must be
peculiarly interesting. To all Christians it must be a subject of the most
delightful contemplation; but more especially to those who hope to be very
soon released from the prison-house of the body. It was the joy set before
him, which bore our Lord through the ignominy, and the torture of his
sufferings. And surely the prospect of such a glory as is set before his
disciples, may well encourage and support them through every difficulty
and every trial. It may well reconcile us to suffer with Christ, when we
know that this is the sure pledge of our reigning with him. They who have
been deepest in suffering for Christ’s sake, shall be highest in glory.
‘They who would sit on his right hand, when he is seated on his throne,
must drink of the bitter cup which he drank of, and must be baptized with
the bloody baptism with which he was baptized. The first disciples knew
this, and therefore they were not only patient, but joyful in suffering,
and were even apt to run into the extreme of courting danger. They did not
count the tribulations of the gospel as trials, to which it was a painful
duty to submit; but they regarded them as honours, which it was no
ordinary favour to win. ‘For unto you it is given, in the behalf of
Christ, (says the apostle Paul,) not only to believe on him, but also
(higher privilege still!) to suffer for his sake.’ It is labour and
fatigue which give to rest and repose their great value.
Indeed we have no idea of rest where there has been no previous weakness
or fatigue, and the harder the toil, or the more distressing the
uneasiness, the sweeter is the rest which succeeds it. I have had little
or no experience of bodily suffering, but I find it is these views of the
glory that shall follow, which bear me up under the prospect of trials
which sometimes burden me with not a little mental distress; and I trust
that these hurried remarks may not be altogether useless, in administering
some little consolation to you under your lengthened afflictions. May the
Lord the Shepherd of Israel guide you; and may his rod and his staff be
your comfort, when you tread the dark valley! Do not forget sometimes to
pray for
"Your very affectionate
brother in the Lord Jesus."
As the end of his last
session at college drew nigh, he became increasingly anxious about his
future sphere of labour. He addressed two letters to Dr. Morrison, with
which the Doctor was much pleased, as appears from his answers; and in the
following letter to myself, he discloses all his mind, and intimates his
final decision.
"ST. ANDREW’S, March
10, 1826.
"MY VERY DEAR SIR -- The
end of our session is now at hand, and I begin to feel it necessary to
determine on some settled plan to proceed upon afterwards. Mr. Adam and
myself have made the subject of missions a matter of daily consideration
this session; and after deliberately viewing all sides of the question,
and candidly comparing the claims of our home population and the heathen
world, and earnestly seeking for direction from Him who has promised to be
the guide of his people, even unto death, I have come to the final
resolution of devoting myself to the service of God among the heathen. I
have made the history of missions, and the biography of missionaries, a
part of my daily study, for some time, and have perused, I think, nearly
all the principal works on the subject. And I am glad I have done so; for
it has given me much sounder views of the matter than I had before. There
is much in the distance of a foreign land, and the mystery that hangs over
the operations that are carried on there; and, above all, in the high and
often extravagant eulogiums which the eloquent advocates of missions have
caused us to associate with the very name of Missionary; there is
much, I say, in all this, to produce a false impression on the mind of a
young disciple. I remember, when I first united myself to a Christian
society, of being much disappointed to find, that Christians, though
vastly different from the world, were still weak and imperfect creatures.
And so, I had been accustomed to form such a lofty conception of the
character of a missionary, that I have been almost disappointed to find,
from their history, that they are men of like infirmities with other
Christians; and certainly, I have been a good deal depressed to find that
many of them were far from possessing that saintly devotedness, and
apostolic zeal, which my boyish imagination had attributed to them.
Indeed, I have to fear, that there was much of romance in my first
thoughts of becoming a missionary; a good deal of what Mr. Malan, in
writing to my friend Mr. Adam on the subject, calls ‘un trait de
l’imagination.’ But I trust the detail of facts, which have come under my
review, has done much to dissipate this; and has at the same time,
impressed me more deeply than ever with the duty of engaging in this
department of the ministerial work. The brilliant colouring of romance has
faded from the picture; but its outlines seem even more strongly and
broadly marked than before. I have not been discouraged by the sufferings
of the missionary life; they are borne for Christ’s sake. And happy,
indeed, are they, to whom it has been given on behalf of Christ, not
only to believe on him, but also to suffer for his sake.
Neither do I feel discouraged by the want of success; the expectations of
Christians on this subject appear to me very unreasonable. They put forth
their little finger to remove a mountain, and are astonished that God does
not work a miracle to reward their great exertions. But the promise
of God stands sure; and though it tarry, we will wait for it. One thing, I
confess, has distressed me not a little; it is the prospect of those
temptations, before which so many have fallen; but I know it is wrong to
fear. The God that enables us to stand in the midst of smaller temptations
is able, and has promised to be with us at all times. I see that
unwavering faith in God’s promises, and closeness of communion with him,
are among the main requisites in the character of a missionary. And in
these I feel that I am very deficient. O, pray for me, my dear friend,
that he who has wrought in me to will, may also fit me to perform it.
"I have had a letter from
Dr. Morrison. He recommends an early application to the Society, and even
talks of a very early entrance on the work itself. I trust I am ready to
engage whenever the Lord will, but I think it is not a recoil from trial,
which makes me suppose that prudence might demand my still remaining a
considerable time in this country. I am not yet eighteen. After this
session I shall have nothing to prevent my engagement in direct
preparation for missionary work. I should like to know the state of the
Society’s arrangements. I was offered a very good situation some time ago,
but was afraid it might, in some degree, interfere with my preparations
for the work to which I am devoted. I have taught Dr. Chalmers’s
Sabbath-school for him this winter, as he is engaged otherwise. This has
given me the opportunity of very familiar intercourse with the Doctor. I
sup with him on Sunday evenings, and have a good deal of conversation with
him on the subject of missions, &c. He tries to persuade me to stay in
this country, but I do not think his arguments powerful. I have refused to
accept of any situation that may occur to him at present, in the prospect
of soon offering myself to the Society. On this account I should like you
to write soon, if possible, whether the Society can receive applications
this summer."
As this letter contains his
decision respecting the important work which had so long occupied his
attention, perhaps this is the proper place to introduce his concluding
address to the St. Andrew’s Missionary Society, which was in a great
measure the fruit of his own exertions, and which he had cherished with
the fondest affection. That address, also, containing his matured views,
will afford me the opportunity of making a few remarks on the subject, and
on the opposition of his friends to his personal engagement in the work. [See
Appendix K.]
Very far be it from me to
write a single sentence that might diminish the force, or detract from the
earnestness of this energetic and eloquent appeal.
On the Society to which it
was read, it produced a most powerful effect; and, on their minutes, they
have made the following entry of that impression: "Never probably, in any
association, had such an address, on such a subject, been before
delivered. To say that it was most eloquent, most solemn, most affecting,
the production of a mind of mighty grasp; sedulously and continuously
directed to one single object of mightiest import, may convey to those who
heard it not, some idea of the impression produced by it."
I trust it is destined to
touch the hearts of many, whom the living voice of the author never could
have reached. I envy not the understanding, or the feelings of that
individual, who can read the address, without experiencing a higher
emotion than that of admiration. It is impossible not to be struck with
the deep earnestness of the advocate, the cogency of his reasoning, and
the affection and simplicity of his manner. Here are "thoughts that
breathe, and words that burn," on a subject the most momentous which can
engage the mind of man.
Were there any danger of
this address producing a general rush into the missionary service, and a
desertion of the service at home, it might be necessary to enter some
exceptions to certain parts of it. But as long as the love of home and of
ease, and various other considerations operate, there is little
probability that we shall have to check the fervour of missionary zeal.
Perhaps my young friend, however, a little exaggerates the low state of
this principle, and represents the deficiency of missionary candidates as
greater than it really is. What is chiefly to be regretted, is, the
paucity of well educated and gifted men for this work. By far the greater
number of persons who volunteer their services, are young men of Christian
principle, but whose early advantages have been comparatively few. In this
respect, there has, indeed, been some progress of late, but still there is
much room for improvement.
Without throwing any
reflection on persons of humble life, and limited education, who wish to
devote themselves to this work, I do conceive, that in many instances, the
failure which has taken place in our foreign operations, may partly, at
least, be traced to this source. When a young person, under examination,
tells us, that the extent of his reading has been the Bible, Boston’s
Fourfold State, Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, and the Evangelical Magazine;
and that, from these and similar sources, with attending missionary
services, he has derived all his knowledge of the work in which he
proposes to engage, it is obviously impossible, whatever dependence may be
placed on his sincerity, to attach any confidence to his knowledge of the
nature of the work.
Such a person is perhaps
accepted; and, after passing through a hurried and imperfect education, is
sent forth to some important and difficult situation abroad. There
difficulties and trials assail him, for which he is altogether unprepared,
and, after floundering and blundering a few years, becomes either
dispirited or ensnared, and effects nothing. Perhaps he has been suddenly
elevated to a class of society, in which he had not been accustomed to
mingle, and from that circumstance, is exposed to danger, which would
scarcely affect persons of another description. It ought not to be
concealed, that missionaries labouring in certain situations among the
heathen, enjoy advantages which are not possessed by their brethren in the
ministry at home; and this circumstance, if caution is not exercised, is
in danger of producing great injury to our cause.
As so much reference is
made by John in his letters, to the opposition of his friends and others,
to his desire to devote himself to the work of Christ among the heathen, I
feel called upon to explain the nature and reasons of this opposition,
which, I apprehend, he never properly understood. Not having opposed him
myself, after I saw his mind was fully made up, my explanation may be
received with the greater confidence. As the opposition was not from
worldly people, or from religious persons under the influence of worldly
motives, the explanation is the more necessary.
I believe then, that
opposition arose entirely from two causes, the state of his constitution,
and the character of his mind. All who knew him, feared that his bodily
constitution would never bear the effects of a warm climate. Though liable
to no particular complaint, he was delicate from a child, and incapable of
enduring much fatigue or exposure. Of this his parents were most sensible,
and hence their decided reluctance to allow him to go abroad. The event
proved that their fears were too well grounded.
Other friends connected his
mental with his bodily constitution, and feared the labours of a
missionary life would soon prove fatal. He possessed a highly morbid
sensibility, which rendered him liable to exquisite sufferings, from
circumstances that would not have greatly affected more robust and hardy
individuals. He was formed for society, and was dependent upon it in a
great degree, for his support and capability of acting. This is most
strongly marked in many of his letters. In connection with this, the kind
of talent which he possessed would have fitted him for eminent usefulness
in this country; while his exquisite taste, and various other
qualifications, would have been to a considerable extent, lost in a
foreign country. I am not disposed to underrate the talents necessary for
foreign missionary labour, or to exaggerate the importance of our own, yet
I freely acknowledge that I am one of the number, who would have rejoiced
that John Urquhart had laboured at home, rather than have gone abroad.
It was too delicate a
matter to press these reasons upon him; but I am sure they are the only
reasons which weighed with Dr. Chalmers, Mr. Ewing, and various other
individuals, from whom he considered himself as experiencing more
opposition than he had been prepared to expect. It is every day becoming
more evident that men of a high order of talent in the Christian ministry,
are required in this country. The successful prosecution of the work
abroad, renders this no less necessary, than the nature of the work at
home; and it would augur ill for the cause of Christ generally, were such
gifted individuals all disposed to forsake our own shores. Of this,
however, there is no great reason to entertain much fear.
I cannot, perhaps, better
conclude the account of his progress during this last session at St.
Andrew’s, than by giving at length several documents with which I have
been furnished. It is always more satisfactory to report the evidence of
eye and intimate witnesses, than to indulge in general and hypothetical
reasonings; and I have found it a very peculiar advantage in conducting
this narrative, that in almost every step of the religious life of this
interesting youth, I can adduce the evidence of those who were so closely
connected with him, that they had the best opportunities of judging; and
who were, at the same time, well qualified to form a judgment of him. His
friend, Mr. Duff writes as follows: —
"In the session of 1825-6
his growth in spirituality was quite extraordinary. Literature and science
now dwindled, in his view, into comparative insignificancy; they no longer
occupied the greatest portion of his time; they no longer possessed
exclusive charms; it was sufficient for casting them into the shade, that
of them it might be asserted, as of the earthquake and the fire of Elijah,
‘that the Lord was not there.’ He, no doubt, this session, gained the
third prize in the Natural Philosophy class, which from the highly
scientific nature of the course, is generally reckoned no ordinary
attainment; but this he owed entirely to his real superiority of
intellect, as it was gained without labour, without effort, without much
preparation. Indeed he could not bear the thought of spending much time on
what appeared to him to be but of secondary importance. Christianity now
became the constant subject of his meditation, the cause of Christ
the constant theme of his discourse. How to be useful to the souls
of men, how to promote the glory and honour of his Redeemer, attracted all
his thoughts, and formed the object of his fondest desires. He seemed full
of the spirit of the reformer, proclaiming, in all his words and actions,
‘None but Christ; none but Christ.’"
Besides the prize in the
Natural Philosophy class, referred to by Mr. Duff, he gained a prize in
the Hebrew, Chaldaic, and Syriac class, "as a testimony," says Professor
Baird, "of my high approbation of his correct and exemplary conduct, and
of the many proofs of excellent talents and distinguished proficiency
which he exhibited while attending that class."
I should also mention that
he attended the Natural History class during the session; and, from some
drawings and papers which remain, it is evident that he had made
considerable progress in botany. With mineralogy and chemistry he was also
well acquainted. The testimony he received from the Lecturer on Natural
History is entitled to a place:--
"ST. ANDREW’S, April 29, 1826.
"Mr. John Urquhart was enrolled a
student of Natural History in the United Colleges of St. Salv. and St.
Leon, at the commencement of the session now closed; and, from the
unremitted regularity of his attendance, the interest he took in the
course, and the intelligence of his conversations on the subject, I have
every reason to believe, that, had there been public examinations, he
would have been as eminent in the Natural History as he has been in every
class of the United College.
"JOHN MACVICAR,
"Col. Lect. Nat. His."
From another of his
fellow-students, and indeed his fellow-lodger, Mr. Alexander, I received
the following very ample view of his character and talents. The writer, I
have reason to know, is well entitled to pronounce his judgment; and all
that he says, is at once most correct, as well as judicious:—
"My acquaintance with John
Urquhart commenced in the year 1823; but it was not till the summer of
1825 that we became very intimate. When I knew him first he appeared to
possess a great flow of spirits, which showed itself more in a perpetual
cheerfulness and hilarity, than in any fondness for boisterous mirth. This
he seemed still to retain, as far as I could judge, as long as I had an
opportunity of conversing with him. Occasionally, however, this gave way
to excessive depression, with which sometimes he was dreadfully
distressed. During these seasons he was often visited with thoughts, which
to his mind, were peculiarly discouraging and terrific; such as doubts of
his being a child of God, a fear of losing his senses; and many other
equally unpleasant ideas. I have not the least doubt, however, that all
these arose from physical causes, and were prognostications of that
disease by which his years on earth were brought to a close.
"In November, 1825,
it was my lot to come to St. Andrew’s to study; and I had the happiness to
find myself lodged under the same roof with John Urquhart. Many a happy
and delightful hour have we spent together in this room wherein I now sit,
— the memory of which is still upon my mind, and it is sweet. Never has it
been my lot to meet with one of so sweet and amiable a disposition.
Contented with whatever he received, I never heard him utter an angry
word, or saw him wear a menace on his placid countenance. He was regular
in all his habits, kind and affectionate in all his conversation with
those around him; and the estimation in which he was held by those with
whom he lodged, was best testified by the heartfelt grief and honest tears
with which they received the intelligence of his death. His landlady, for
some weeks after, wore mourning, in token of respect for his character and
memory.
"His piety was simple and
unaffected; and, at the same time, truly evangelical. Deeply sensible of
his own unworthiness and guilt, he was humbled before God, and was enabled
to lay hold upon him who is the Saviour from all sin. Convinced by his
numerous short-comings that he had not yet arrived at perfection, he was
taught to cling closer to his Redeemer, and trust in him alone. He was
distinguished by a godly, jealous care over his own heart; and was
watchful against temptation. Many a time did he deny himself the
indulgence of pleasures of which he was naturally fond, just because they
might stand in the way of his soul’s good. In prayer, he peculiarly
excelled. How earnest were his supplications, and how experimental his
confessions, every one who has ever heard him can testify. His whole soul
seemed to be engaged; and the energy of his expression sufficiently
testified, that what he asked, was what he indeed knew and felt himself to
want.
"His zeal for doing good
was very great. You, sir, already know with what eagerness he sacrificed
every prospect of worldly advantage for the arduous and laborious office
of a foreign missionary. This was the darling desire of his heart; and,
for the attainment of this object, he earnest1y and unceasingly prayed.
Every work upon Christian missions, every article of missionary
intelligence, he anxiously and eagerly perused. He had pondered well all
that he might expect to endure; he had looked upon all the dangers and
difficulties which lay before him; but his desire was not weakened, and
his confidence in the promises of Jehovah was unshaken.. So firm was his
determination, that he actually commenced the study of Chinese, and spent
many an hour of hard study on its recondite symbols. I do not know whether
he continued to prosecute his study: I rather think not; as he
seemed latterly to have directed his attention more to India than to
China.
"But he did not content
himself with a mere desire to do good, and with forming plans for
future usefulness; he was also busy in doing what he could for
those around him. He was much occupied with Sabbath-schoo1s, and took
great delight in communicating instruction to the children by whom they
were attended. It was his practice to make them read a chapter, which he
explained to them, and questioned them from it. All these questions he
previously wrote down and studied, in order that they might be as simple
and easy as possible. Indeed, he possessed a peculiar talent for speaking
to children, and never failed to secure their attention. The simplicity of
his addresses to them may be evinced by the surprise which some of his
youthful hearers once expressed, that they should have been able to
recollect all that he had said. Nor was he contented with merely speaking
to the children on the Sabbath; he made it a point to visit them regularly
in their own houses, and to converse with them and their relations there.
By these means he secured the confidence of the parents as well as the
affection of the children, and was often enabled to speak a word in season
to those with whom he met.
"To visit the sick and the
infirm was another favourite occupation of my dear brother; to every call
of this kind he was ready; and many a time have I known him leave his
studies to visit the bed-side of some humble sufferer. On these occasions
his conversation was always of a spiritual nature, and it was always his
anxious endeavour to direct the mind of the sufferer away from every
earthly confidence, unto the ‘Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the
world.’ Sometimes in these visits of love, he was kindly received,
sometimes he had to endure the suspicion of having some sinister motive by
which he was actuated; sometimes he met with intelligence and attention,
and sometimes with ignorance and carelessness; but whatever reception he
met with, he never failed to repeat his visits: so strong was his desire
for the welfare and salvation of his fellow men.
"But, while he was thus
attentive to the duties of religion, he was not negligent of those studies
for which he had come to this place. On the contrary, I believe there were
few of his cotemporaries who studied more closely, than he did: certainly,
none more successfully. In only one class did he fail to distinguish
himself; viz, the Logic Class; but this I am inclined to impute, not so
much to any want of ability, as to a distaste for the dull and barren
speculations with which the Professor of Logic treats his students. His
splendid appearance in the Ethical Class, the year following, proved what
he could do; and it was certainly no small achievement to stand first in
two separate competitions in a class, perhaps the most numerous and able
that ever attended the prelections of a St. Andrew’s Ethical Professor. As
far as I could judge, his talent lay chiefly in a facility of acquiring
languages; and in the elegance, both of thought and expression, by which
his compositions were distinguished. There were several of his
cotemporaries who took a much firmer and profounder grasp of a subject;
but there were few, if any, who could think so clearly, and express
themselves with such perspicuity and elegance, as he was able to do.
Contrary to what may be inferred from the ease and beauty of his style,
his habits of composition were very laborious. Beginning from a rude and
imperfect sketch, he, by degrees, filled up the parts and extended the
outline. He scarcely wrote a sentence which did not cost him some labour;
and, consequently, composition was to him a most fatiguing, and, I may
say, irksome exercise. He always set himself to it with reluctance; and,
indeed, it was only by the calls of duty that he could be prevailed upon
to take up his pen on any subject. I have not seen all his compositions;
but the best that I have seen are a series of papers on the St. Andrew’s
Missionary Society, printed in the ‘St. Andrew’s University Magazine,’ a
little work conducted by some of his friends during last session; and an
essay on the duty of personally engaging in the work of missions, read
before the St. Andrew’s Students’ Missionary Society; of which he was
always a distinguished friend and supporter."
These testimonies are
peculiarly pleasant and satisfactory, not only as the expressions of
Christian and personal friendship, but as bearing evidence to his holy and
exemplary conduct. In him, religion did not appear as a profession, — it
dwelt in him, as life, — it attached itself to him as clothing. It was not
a holiday, but an every day garb, and was worn with the ease of a natural
habit, not the stiffness of an assumed or foreign dress. There is one
testimony more which I cannot withhold, though the name of the respected
individual who bears it, has been already repeatedly introduced. No one
could know him better than Dr. Chalmers; and no man was more capable of
estimating his intellectual and spiritual attainments. The following
document presented to John, on leaving the University, does great honour
to the heart of the Professor, as well as to the talents of the student.
"ST. ANDREW’S, April
28, 1826.
"These are to certify, that
Mr. John Urquhart was enrolled a regular student of Moral Philosophy in
the United College of St. Andrew’s, for the session of 1825-6; that he
distinguished himself highly by his appearances while under examination,
and was far the most eminent of his class, for the beauty and eloquence of
his written compositions; that he possesses a very uncommon degree of
taste and talent for the disquisitions of ethical science; and that
altogether, he, as the fruit of great diligence, united with great powers,
achieved the credit of being a first rate proficient in the lessons and
doctrines of the course.
"THOMAS CHALMERS."
"Mr. Urquhart gained two
prizes in this class; one, the first prize, for an essay on ‘The Mutual
Influences and Affinities, which obtain between the Moral and Economic
Condition of Society.’ Another, the first prize for essays read in the
class during the session."
Perhaps, to some readers,
it may occur to ask, did the individual who was so successful in all his
academical pursuits, take a degree at St. Andrew’s? It appears he did not.
If this should excite surprise, I can say in explanation, that multitudes
of the best scholars at the Scottish Universities never trouble themselves
about the matter; and many of those who take the degree of A. M., never
use it. But as I know John was recommended to take a degree, I can account
for his neglecting to follow the advice, only by referring his conduct to
that instinctive and powerful aversion to human praise, by which he was
remarkably distinguished. One of his fellow students, who knew him well,
and whose testimony I have not yet quoted, calls my attention to the
feature of his character; what he calls, "his total indifference to human
approbation. The loudest applause of his instructors and fellow students
did not seem to tell on his feelings at all. Had he been susceptible of
pleasure from any distinction conferred, it must have shown, when he was
singled out, and eminently honoured, by such a man as Dr. Chalmers. Yet,
even in this case, he was unmoved. His mind hardly appeared to have a
thought for anything, save the good opinion of Him who trieth the reins
and hearts of the children of men. He arrived at this heavenly-mindedness,
not, I am sure, by any process of acute investigation into the philosophy
of our feelings, but simply by ever exercising his affections on those
things which are unseen and eternal. His indifference was not the
misanthropic stoicism of the philosopher, but the perfect liberty of the
Christian."
Whether I am correct, or
not, in assigning this reason for his declining to take his degree at the
University, the reader, I am sure, will rejoice with me in the evidence of
the existence of such a state of mind as that which this extract
describes. It is in full accordance with other testimonies, and with all
my own convictions. Genuine Christianity does not teach us to despise the
approbation of others, or undervalue any useful attainment which may be
the object of that approbation. But when it obtains full possession of the
mind, it, in a great degree, dislodges those secondary motives and
considerations, which constitute the great principles of action in the men
of the world. It does not produce meanness or servility; but it produces
lowliness of mind. It not only inculcates a spirit of self-distrust and
diffidence, and indifference to human glory; but in its very nature
induces these dispositions. The individual who feels the charm and the
power of a Saviour’s love, and who attaches to his approbation all that
constitutes the glory of future hope, will not be much concerned for the
honours or the applause of this world. Into these views and feelings few
have entered more fully and even enthusiastically than the subject of
these memoirs. All his letters are illustrative of this state of mind; and
his whole conduct was a living commentary on his letters. |