Such was the state of Scotland towards the middle of the eighteenth century; and surely a fairer prospect was never opened to any country. The land was at peace. It had nothing to fear, either from foreign invasion, or from domestic tyranny. The arts, which increase the comfort of man, and minister to his happiness, were sedulously cultivated; wealth was being created with unexampled speed, and the blessings which follow in the train of wealth were being widely diffused; while the insolence of the nobility was so effectually curbed, that industrious citizens could, for the first time, feel their own independence, could know that what they earned, that likewise they should enjoy, and could hold themselves erect, and with a manly brow, in the presence of a class before whom they had long crouched in abject submission.
Besides this, a great literature now arose, a literature of rare and surpassing beauty. To narrate the intellectual achievements of the Scotch during the eighteenth century, in a manner at all commensurate with their importance, would require a separate treatise, and I cannot now stop even to mention what all educated persons are at least partly acquainted with; each student recognizing the value of what was done in his own pursuit. In the last chapter of this volume, I shall, however, attempt to give some idea of the general results considered as a whole; at present, it is enough to say, that in every branch of knowledge this once poor and ignorant people produced original and successful thinkers. What makes this the more remarkable, is its complete contrast to their former state. Down even to the beginning of the eighteenth century, Scotland could only boast of two authors whose works have benefited mankind. They were Buchanan and Napier. Buchanan was the first political writer who held accurate views respecting government, and who clearly defined the true relation between the people and their rulers. He placed popular rights on a solid basis, and vindicated, by anticipation, all subsequent revolutions. Napier, equally bold in another department, succeeded, by a mighty effort of genius, in detecting, and pushing to its extreme consequence, a law of the progression of numbers, which is so simple and yet so potent, that it unravels the most tedious and intricate calculations, and, thus economizing the labours of the brain, has saved an enormous and incalculable waste. These two men were, indeed, great benefactors of their species; but they stand alone, and if all the other authors Scotland produced down to the close of the seventeenth century had never been born, or if, being born, they had never written, society would have lost nothing, but would be in exactly the same position as it now is.
Early, however, in the eighteenth century, a movement was felt all over Europe, and in that movement Scotland participated. A spirit of inquiry was abroad, so general and so searching, that no country could entirely escape from its action. Sanguine men were excited, and even grave men were stirred. It seemed as if a long night were about to close. Light broke forth where before there was nothing but darkness. Opinions which had stood the test of ages were suddenly questioned; and in every direction doubts sprung up, and proofs were demanded. The human mind, waxing bold, would not be satisfied with the old evidence. Things were examined at their foundation, and the basis of every belief was jealously scrutinized. For a time, this was confined to the higher intellects; but soon the movement spread, and, in the most advanced countries, worked upon nearly all classes. In England and in France, the result was extremely beneficial. It might have been hoped, that in Scotland likewise, the popular mind would gradually have become enlightened. But not so. Time rolled on; one generation succeeded another; the eighteenth century passed away; the nineteenth century came; and still the people made no sign. The gloom of the middle ages was yet upon them. While all around was light, the Scotch, enveloped in mist, crept on, groping their way, dismally and with fear. While other nations were shaking off their old superstitions, this singular people clung to theirs with undiminished tenacity. Now, indeed, their grasp is gradually slackening, but with extreme slowness, and threatening reactions frequently appear. This, as it always has been, and still is, the curse of Scotland, so also is it the chief difficulty with which the historian of Scotland has to contend. Everywhere else, when the rise of the intellectual classes, and that of the trading and manufacturing classes, have accompanied each other, the invariable result has been, a diminution of the power of the clergy, and, consequently, a diminution of the influence of superstition. The peculiarity of Scotland is, that, during the eighteenth century, and even down to the middle of the nineteenth century, the industrial and intellectual progress has continued without materially shaking the authority of the priesthood.409