John Urquhart, part 3: From Darkness to Light

College Church, St. Andrews.

Yesterday we left John Urquhart at the close of his freshman year, just before he turned 15. With classes over at St. Andrews, he returned home to Perth for the summer. There, without the daily presence and encouragement of Alexander Duff, and without the daily structure of his studies, his spiritual fervor began to fade. He found decreasing pleasure in prayer and Bible reading, and as these disciplines became more of a chore, he began to neglect them more. The activities and interests of the present world began to absorb all of his attention, and he later would say that if God had left him in that condition, he would “have inevitably perished.”

In November of 1823, he returned to college for his second year, and was apparently so busy with his studies that he did not write many letters home. But somewhere in the ensuing months, God brought his spirit to life and he went from the darkness into the light. Back in Perth, Pastor Orme was excited—and somewhat surprised—to receive and read the following letter.

St. Andrew’s, April 13, 1824.

My dear Sir;
It is with feelings of a very unusual nature, that I sit down to write to you. Since I last saw you I have been admitted as a member of a Christian church. I determined to write to you for several reasons. I have long considered you as one of my best friends, and as a sincere servant and follower of Jesus Christ; and your preaching was the first instrument in that God used to lead me to think seriously of an eternal world. —To you, therefore, I have determined to reveal every feeling, and to open the recesses of my heart.

My first impressions of danger, as a sinner, were caused by a sermon you preached on a Lord’s day evening, about a year and a half ago. At the time, I was very much affected; I think it was then that I first really prayed. I returned to my home, and with many tears confessed my guilt before God. These impressions were followed by some remarkable events in the providence of God, which struck me very forcibly. Also, about that time, the sad death of Mr. Moncur [one of his grammar school teachers] proved to me the inability of earthly wisdom and learning to bring happiness.

Shortly after I returned here from my father’s house, I felt myself in an unusual way dependent on Jehovah. I was removed from the care of my earthly father, and from daily interactions with my earthly friends; and I felt great pleasure in committing myself to him who is the Father of the fatherless, and a Friend to those that have none. My friend [Duff] used to join me morning and evening in the reading of the Scriptures and prayer. Through these disciplines, and by taking part in the more public exercises of God’s worship, I had some enjoyment, and from them, I think, I derived some advantage. On my return home, however, last summer, I began to feel less pleasure in these enjoyments. . . But God is rich in mercy; he does not delight in the death of the wicked. In his infinite mercy, he has again been pleased to call my attention to the things of eternity. For some months back, I have been led to see the utter worthlessness of earthly things; —to see that happiness is not to be found in any earthly object.

And I think I have been led to seek it in the only place that it can be found, —in “Jesus crucified for me.” I have felt great pleasure in Communion with God; and I have felt some love, though faint, to the Saviour and to his cause. I have had a long struggle with the world. I have counted the cost, and I have finally resolved that I will serve the Lord. I have long been kept back from openly professing my faith in Jesus from fear that my future conduct might bring disgrace on the religion of the Saviour. But I have begun to think that this proceeds, in a great measure, from self-confidence, and from not trusting in the promises of God. He who has brought me thus far, will not forsake me now; He who has begun a good work will perfect it until the end.

On Thursday of last week, after praying for Divine direction, I felt it my duty to apply for admission to a Christian church; since then, I have spoken with two of the members; and, being set forward as a membership candidate last Lord’s day, I was received into their number. My dear Sir, I have now, as far as I can, related to you without reserve, my feelings and state of mind since I was first impressed with a sense of the importance of religion. I still have many doubts whether I have been really renewed by the grace of God. Of this my future life must be the test.

I see many temptations in my way, and I feel that I am not able in myself to withstand them. May God perfect his strength in my weakness, and may he enable me to live from now on, not for myself, but to Him who died for me, and who rose again; to offer my body a living sacrifice, and to devote all the faculties of my mind to his service. And now, dear Sir, pray for me, that He who is able to establish me according to the preaching of Christ Jesus, may keep me from falling, and make me in the end more than a conqueror. For now, farewell; I hope to see you soon. Give compliments to Mrs. Orme, to my parents, and all friends, from
Your very affectionate, [John]

It is clear what joy this would have brought to a pastor who had preached to him, prayed for him, and hoped that in time his natural giftings could be used to bless the church of his day. To read this letter today is to see how much maturity and biblical wisdom is possible in a young person just short of their 16th birthday. May this testimony prompt us to pray for this kind of serious maturity in the teenagers (and 20-, 30-, and 40-year-olds!) of our day.