John Urquhart, part 5: A Few Good Men
Thomas Chalmers
(1780-1847).
During John Urquhart’s time at St. Andrews, the university consisted of two distinct colleges—St. Mary’s existed to train students in theology, while the goal of the United Colleges of St. Salvator and St. Leonard was to train students in philosophy. Since John began his studies when he was not yet a Christian, he was sent—at his pastor’s suggestion—to the philosophy school, which would give him a good foundation for pastoral training if prayers were answered and he came to salvation. His course work in college would be considered the liberal arts today; among his subjects were Greek, Latin, mathematics, and moral philosophy.
He returned to St. Andrews in November 1824 after a long summer at home. In June he had turned 16, and that summer was his first as a genuine Christian. William Orme, his pastor back in Perth, had rejoiced to see the love that John now had for Christ, and the two enjoyed being near each other again. Orme did all he could to stir John’s heart toward future ministry even though John needed little encouragement to do so. When he had committed himself to Christ, he had done so with all his heart.
As soon as he returned to school, John formed two friendships that would accelerate his growth and his usefulness. One of these friendships was with a professor, and one with a fellow student. A new class for him that fall was moral philosophy (ethics), taught by Thomas Chalmers. In his biography of Urquhart, Orme wrote of the damage that moral philosophy classes were causing in most institutions of the day. He said that “instead of being [as its name might indicate] the philosophy of morals, it is commonly treated as the philosophy of the mind. . .Instead of connecting ethics with the revealed will of God, it has too often been employed to initiate skepticism, and foster the pride of intellect.” The primary texts were no longer the Scriptures, but those of skeptical naturalists like David Hume. “Many a young man who entered a course with his principles tolerably correct, if not altogether established, has left the class a skeptic, or a confirmed unbeliever.” Thankfully, these things could not be said about any class that Thomas Chalmers taught. He was a titan of 19th century Scottish evangelicalism. Pastor, professor, scientist, evangelist—he excelled at anything he turned his attention to. And most importantly, his approach to moral philosophy was in direct opposition to the current trend. Students left his classes more committed to and more confident in the truth of Scripture.¹
When Chalmers had come to St. Andrews in 1823, students from around Scotland began leaving other schools to sit under his teaching. John Adam was one of those young men; he left his studies in Glasgow to learn from Chalmers, and his spiritual fervor was equal to Urquhart’s. He was five years older than John, and had spent a period of time in Geneva, Switzerland, living with and learning from Cesar Malan, an evangelical pastor whose ministry to young men was similar to the work that Francis Schaeffer would do in that same country a century later. (Malan also left an indelible mark on the life of Charlotte Elliott, the author of Just As I Am.) Adam, like Urquhart, had grown up in a Christian home, but also like Urquhart was not saved until he had left home. The time with Malan was the turning point in his life.
Though Adam was older than Urquhart, he was new to St. Andrews. The two Johns first saw each other in the moral philosophy class, and soon after were introduced to each other while visiting in the home of “Mr. Smith,” one of the deacons in the dissenting church of which Urquhart was a member. In their very first conversation, Urquhart told him that he hoped to create a missionary society among the students. A small society already existed among the theology students, but he wanted something broader, something that would bring in students from the philosophy college.
John Adam
(1803-1830).
One night, shortly after their introduction, Adam and other friends gathered in Urquhart’s room. Alexander Duff recorded that the conversation turned to “the blindness of the understanding, and the hardness of the heart of mankind, with its entire alienation from God.” This led to further discussion about how the Holy Spirit removes the obstacles to belief in Jesus. With young men such as these, it was only a matter of time before this brought them to the subject closest to all of their hearts—that of missionary labors in distant lands. Urquhart had wanted to start a society, and now seemed like the perfect time. Some objected because the spiritual atmosphere in the university was so cold; they felt nothing could come of such an attempt. But Urquhart was one of the strongest proponents of moving forward. Something of such eternal significance demanded that they at least try—and what did they have to lose?
Before the night was over, some papers had been drawn up that listed their goals and strategies for the future. They did not feel they had much hope of raising funds to send to foreign lands, but at least they could begin by meeting monthly. They would raise what funds they could, they would gather in as many books on missions that they could, they would look for reports from mission fields, or sermons on missions. They would try to learn what strategies seemed to be most blessed by God. They would pray, and they would each begin to ask—should I prepare myself to be sent out?
As a leading voice that night, none could have been more thrilled to see this idea catch on among the other students. Even by the middle of December Urquhart was able to write with excitement to his father—
Doctor Chalmers has brought a good number of students from other Universities, many of them of very polished manners, and, I think, not a few who are spiritually mature. He has thus not only increased the number of the students, (which, this year, amounts to about two hundred and fifty;) but those who have come for his sake, being mostly of evangelical principles, he has thus brought a great change on the religious aspect of our University. It is to this chiefly, that I would attribute the success with which my efforts have been crowned, in attempting to form a missionary society in our College. We have got about forty subscribers [those willing to give a regular amount], and have already had two meetings, which we propose to continue monthly. There have also been formed a number of Sabbath-schools, one of which is taught by Dr. Chalmers himself.
We can be so thankful for men like Thomas Chalmers, a brilliant man whose knowledge and life pulled students from other universities, yet who could be found on Sundays teaching the children of the poor and rough places. It was he who had founded that first missionary society among the theology students, and he was a quick and committed supporter of the society into which Urquhart and his friends now threw every effort. In these two men—Thomas Chalmers and John Adam—Urquhart had found new brothers-in-arms. A good work had begun, and the school year was just getting started.
¹Though Darwin’s Origin of Species (1859) is marked by many as the start of an evolutionary view of the earth’s age, new ideas about geology and the age of rocks had been circulating for decades. Modern understanding in both fields—biology and geology—supposedly created a discrepancy between science and the Bible. I mention this because Thomas Chalmers, in an attempt to bridge this perceived divide, was an early proponent of the “Gap Theory” of creation. This theory inserts a long epoch of time between the first two verses of Genesis to allow for a distant past in human history. This is a blemish on an otherwise excellent reputation.
