If we would understand
fully the characteristics of Scotland and Scotsmen to which
travellers have so frequently alluded, and of which the preceding
pages have given abundant evidence, we must go back some way into
the story of the country's past, to see how those characteristics
have come to be evolved. The ancient Scots were a people in whom
Pictish, Norse, Celtic, and Teutonic elements combined to produce a
free, hardy, vigorous, and independent race, stubbornly attached to
the rude uncultivated country they had made their home. It was the
aim of the Norman and Plantagenet kings to subdue this nation in the
interests of a vast empire that should be continental as well as
English, and of which Scotland should be a remote and unimportant
province. But in so dreaming, the English showed that they "knew not
the stomach" of the people with whom they had to deal. Scotsmen were
resolutely determined from the first to resist this southern
aggression, and throw off this foreign yoke. It was the national
policy for three centuries to court a French alliance, to promote
the independence of both France and Scotland, and to curb the
ambitions of England abroad by a watchful and provocative enmity at
home. The war of independence, the ancient league with France, the
incessant border raids, the conspiracies of the Reformation, the
struggle with Episcopacy, the opposition to the Union, and the
enterprises of Jacobitism were all of them inspired by one animating
principle, an inveterate hostility to the usurping power of England.
As William, Earl of Douglas, put it to the French warrior De Vienne
in 1385, "The Scottish people will endure pillage, and they will
endure famine, and every other extremity of war; but they will not
endure an English master."
The national sentiment on this subject is thus vigorously expressed
by an old writer in The Complaynt of Scotland, Paris, 1549:
"There is nocht twa
nations undir the firmament that ar mair contrar and different fra
uthirs nor is Inglis men and Scottis men, quhoubeit that they be
vitht in ane ile, and nychtbours, and of ane langage. For Inglis men
ar subtil, and Scottis men are facile. Inglis men ar ambitius in
prosperite, and Scottis men are humain in prosperite. Inglis men are
humil quhen thai ar subjeckit be force and violence, and Scottis men
are furious quhen thai ar violently subjeckit. Inglis men ar cruel
quhen thai get victorie, and Scottis men are merciful quhen thai get
victorie. And to conclude, it is onpossibil that Scottis men and
Inglis men can remane in concord undir ane monarch or ane prince,
because there naturis and conditions are as indifferent as is the
nature of scheip and wolvis."
Before the Scottish character could be fully matured, the nation had
to pass through many cleansing fires. The fourteenth century was one
of misery and violence. The population was decimated by the ravages
of the Black Death, and the country laid waste and the national
strength exhausted by continual wars with England. In the fifteenth
century the conflict became internal, and a tragic succession of
murders, conspiracies, regencies, and royal minorities involved the
Scottish crown in a fierce struggle with the nobility, and gave the
country over to feuds, anarchy, and intrigue. It culminated,
however, in the brilliant reign of James IV. Under that monarch,
trade and commerce flourished; justice and law prevailed: a
university was founded; a navy came into being; and a group of
distinguished writers, Henryson, Dunbar, Douglas, Lyndsay, Major,
and Boece, showed that the new light of the European Renaissance
could penetrate even to the darksome regions of the north.
The sixteenth century saw the decay of feudalism, the emergence of a
middle class, and the arrival of the Reformation. It was an age in
which Scotland may be said to have awaked, morally and
intellectually, to the consciousness of its high destiny as the
champion of a thoroughgoing Protestantism, and in which the scale
was to turn in favour of an English rather than a French alliance.
In the seventeenth century Scotsmen were permitted to rejoice at the
elevation to the throne of England of their own hereditary line of
kings. Yet their passion of loyalty and enthusiasm was to be cooled
when they discovered more and more clearly how fundamental was the
incompatibility between the policy of the Stuarts and their own most
deeply rooted aspirations and ideals. Presbyterianism during this
period climbed to its height of power in the Solemn League and
Covenant and the prestige of the Westminster Assembly, but it was to
receive a severe check and humiliation in the battle of Dunbar.
During the latter part of the century, the most pitiful in our
annals, Episcopalian and Covenanter were locked in a fury of
theological and bloody strife. The Revolution of 1688 came as a
welcome relief, and enabled an exhausted and distracted nation to
turn with inexpressible thankfulness from religious wranglings to
the pursuit of secular affairs. The period of repose, however, was
destined to be short-lived. The massacre of Glencoe and the Darien
disaster opened afresh the old rankling wound of resentment against
England. And if anything was calculated to rub salt into that wound,
it was the negotiations, in 1706, for a Union of the Kingdoms, which
was to deprive Scotsmen of their Parliament and their Privy Council,
and so call upon them to surrender the last vestiges of their
independence.
In these circumstances, it is hardly surprising that strenuous
efforts should be made during the first half of the eighteenth
century to revive the Stuart cause, and to set upon the throne a
prince whom many believed to be the hundred and tenth of a line of
Scottish kings, who had reigned without a break since days when
Christianity itself had not been born. Scottish affairs soon took a
different turn, however, when the risings of 1715 and 1745 came to
nothing, and the indisputable advantages of the Union began to be
apparent. Then, for the first time after centuries of warfare, a
period of security and settled peace supervened, and the genius of
the people could come to its own at last. Trade, industry, and
agriculture expanded on every side; art, literature, and philosophy
attained to their golden age; and the spirit of the race blossomed
to a late spring in Hume, Blair, Robertson, and Adam Smith, in
Ramsay, Burns, Raeburn, and Sir Walter Scott.
While Scotsmen were thus contending with stubborn foes without,
difficulties of another kind were facing them within. Nature in
Scotland has ever been a stern foster-mother to her sons, and a cold
unfriendly climate, a scanty population, and a stiff and churlish
soil, have rendered impossible that rich and varied civilization
which both France and England have been able to enjoy. It was long
before Highlanders could look with favour upon agriculture, or even
think of the pursuit as worthy of being followed by a gentleman.
Even in the Lowlands, feudal territorial jurisdictions, and a system
of short leases and high and rising rents, imposed vexatious burdens
on industry and enterprise. The result was that, by the end of the
seventeenth century, two-thirds of the country was still given over
to barren moorland. Cabbages were unknown in Inverness till
introduced by Cromwell's soldiers; potatoes in the eighteenth
century were a recently discovered luxury; and even turnips were
regarded as a delicacy and served in the form of a hors d'oeuvre.
Certain favoured districts, indeed, such as Angus, Moray,
Clydesdale, and the Carse of Gowrie, were noted for their crops, but
those were mostly oats, beans, or barley. The only manure available
consisted of lime or seaweed; and the hungry farmer would sometimes
endeavour to extract six to seven crops from the same impoverished
soil, since he could afford neither to enrich it nor to let it lie
fallow. Save in the estates of the nobility, there was a remarkable
absence of trees in Scotland. To grow them was considered
unprofitable, and enclosures to protect them were unknown. In
general, the face of the country was so bleak and poverty-stricken
that Johnson was constrained to enquire jocularly of Boswell whether
it was possible to bring the sloe to perfection in Scotland.
Few things are more surprising in the tales of former travellers
than their failure to appreciate the glories of Scottish scenery,
and the impression they seem to have had of being in quite a foreign
country. Defoe found everything so different in the very first town
he came to on Scottish ground, that he thought himself a hundred
miles beyond Edinburgh. It should be remembered that an incredible
ignorance formerly prevailed in England as to the features and
peculiarities of its northern neighbour, and a still more incredible
indifference. Clarendon tells us in his History of the Rebellion
that "when the whole English nation was solicitous to know what
passed weekly in Germany and Poland and all other parts of Europe,
no man ever inquired what was doing in Scotland, nor had that
kingdom a place or mention of one place of any gazette."
Even in the eighteenth century it was a kind of terra incognita,
difficult to get at, which people like Miss Tabitha Bramble thought
could only be reached by sea. Johnson occupied more time in
travelling from London to Edinburgh than we should now take in
journeying from Liverpool to New York. On arriving there he found
that "to the southern inhabitants of Scotland the state of the
mountains and of the islands was equally unknown with that of Borneo
and Sumatra;" and when he returned to the metropolis again, he "was
addressed as if he had made a voyage to Nova Zembla, and had
suffered five persecutions in Japan."
Those who did venture into the Highlands brought back the most
fearsome stories of their rude and frowning terrors. Camden thought
that Argyll-shire was "a most unpleasant place, what with rocks and
what with barren blackish mountains." Another traveller in 1740
spoke of the mountains of Loch Ness as "those hideous productions of
nature," and maintained that if a southerner were to be brought
blind-folded into the midst of such "horrid prospects," and were
then to have his bandage taken off, he would “be ready to die with
fear, as thinking it impossible he should ever get out and return to
his native country." To Pennant, Glencoe was "the seat of
melancholy," and to Johnson, Mull was "a most dolorous country," and
the mountains of Skye appeared "malignant." It is hardly credible
that so great a difference should have come over men's appreciation
of Scottish scenery as the result of a change of sentiment, the
advent of good steamers and comfortable hotels, and the wand of that
wizard of the north, Sir Walter Scott.
One almost inevitable consequence of Scotland's troubled history on
the one hand, and its climate on the other, has been its comparative
poverty. Not that the country has been always poor. At one time
Berwick-on-Tweed, the capital, took rank with Ghent, Rotterdam, and
the other great cities of the Low Countries, and was almost the
rival of London in mercantile enterprise. Stately edifices, baronial
and ecclesiastical, still stood, testifying to a people equal in
wealth to the English when they were built. But ruinous and costly
wars soon drained Scotland of its resources. A vicious economic
system survived from the Middle Ages which set town against town and
burgh against burgh. Trade was everywhere hampered by
authoritatively fixed prices, a want of bullion, and the debasement
of the currency. Then the removal of the court of King James from
Edinburgh to London took money out of the country, and seriously
crippled the old trade with France. By the year 1630 Scotland's
exchequer was almost empty, but the grant of free trade with England
by Oliver Cromwell inaugurated a brief season of commercial
prosperity.
In the reign of Charles II., however, this privilege was withdrawn,
and not only was Scotland taxed at the rate of 40,000 annually for
the support of the crown, but its trade with Holland was seriously
interfered with as well. By the Revolution settlement the country
hoped to recover some ground that had been lost, but the ill-fated
Darien scheme impoverished it still more to the extent of 400,000,
with the result that when the Bank of Scotland came to be founded in
1695, the capital forthcoming was less than a million sterling,
whereas the Bank of England had been established in the year
previous, by a Scotsman named Paterson, with a capital of over five
millions. In such circumstances as these, the Union could not long
be resisted by Scotsmen who wished to thrive. While sentiment held
out for a continued independence, commercial advantage and a policy
of self-interest pointed emphatically to an immediate partnership
with the country from which Scotland had been unnaturally and too
long separated.
Scotland's commercial backwardness, then, has been owing to no lack
of enterprise or industry on the part of its sons, but rather to
climatic conditions and insufficient capital. "Nothing is scarce
here but money", wrote a French traveller in 1552, and the same
might have been said till far on into the eighteenth century.
Scotsmen had always worked diligently at such trades as they could
follow with advantage. Coal was discovered and worked as early as
the twelfth century. Fish, salt, hides, and woollen cloth have
always been staple exports, and by 1684 as many as 12,000 persons
were engaged in the manufacture of linen, that industry being
stimulated two years later by an enactment that all persons were to
be buried in linen winding-sheets made from materials that had been
grown, spun, and woven within the kingdom. But even when comparative
prosperity did visit Scotland, the evidence of it was confined
chiefly to the larger towns. In the country districts food was
varied and abundant, but not delicate. The gentry might drink French
wines, and indulge in flesh meat frequently. Tea and wheaten loaves
would occasionally be found in the locked-up cupboards of ladies of
good position. But with the common people it was broth and barley
bannocks and poor ale. Johnson was not far wrong when he said that
"oats is the food of horses in England, but in Scotland supports the
people." At any rate it sufficed, and the result justified Lord
Elibank's reply, "Where will you find such horses or such people?"
Accompanying this national poverty, a rusticity and even boorishness
of manners was very noticeable. Previous to the Union, Scotland was
far behind England in the refinements, and even in the decencies, of
civilized life. How offensive to southern visitors was Edinburgh's
habit of emptying its domestic filth into the street nightly at ten
o'clock, we have already seen. The poet Gray wrote of the Scottish
metropolis that it was "the most picturesque (at a distance) and the
nastiest (when near) of all capital cities." And if such was the
state of things in Edinburgh, the condition of the country districts
may easily be imagined. Johnson said what he could for Scotland, for
he was everywhere civilly and hospitably entertained in the best
houses. But he gathered enough during his travels to establish him
in the opinion that "until the Union made Scotsmen acquainted with
English manners, the culture of their lands was unskilful, and their
domestic life unformed; their tables were coarse as the feasts of
Esquimaux, and their houses filthy as the cottages of Hottentots."
Finding no adequate scope for his energies at home, and denied that
natural outlet which England might have been expected to provide,
the enterprising Scotsman of a former age looked to wider fields in
which his aspirations might be realized. As merchant, as poor
scholar, or as wandering adventurer and soldier of fortune, he found
his way to every European country, and wherever he went he showed a
remarkable capacity for making himself at home. As many as ten
thousand Scotsmen served the cause of France in the Hundred Years'
War, and fought stubbornly against the English in the battles of
Bauge, Crevant, and Verneuil. For help given in this campaign the
Earl of Buchan was made High Constable of France, and the Earl of
Douglas was rewarded with the dukedom of Touraine. A hundred others,
with two hundred archers to boot, formed the Scots Guard of King
Louis XI., and twenty-four stalwart Scotsmen were appointed to keep
watch over the King's own private apartments, and to surround his
person and his throne. Thirteen regiments of Scotsmen fought for
Gustavus Adolphus in the Thirty Years' War, and many another corps
of his great army was officered by men of the same nation. It was a
Scotsman who filled the position of Field Marshal to the Emperor
Frederick of Prussia, and another who did more than anyone else to
consolidate the Russian Empire of the Czar, Peter the Great.
When the Union of the Crowns was consummated in 1603, the way seemed
opened up for conquests nearer home, and a herd of famished Scotsmen
followed King James to London in the hope of picking up some
lucrative offices and rewards. Unfortunately, many of these were
needy creditors of James, and their clamours for the payment of old
debts was "of all forms of importunity the most unpleasing to his
Majesty." The better class of Scotsmen, too, proved themselves to be
proud, quarrelsome, and irascible in the extreme, and the King was
obliged to command that proclamation should be made at every market
cross in Scotland, forbidding all Scotsmen to travel into England
without express permission from the Privy Council. Foiled in their
hopes of English plunder, Scotsmen had to seek their natural
expansion elsewhere. Some overflowed into Nova Scotia in 1624, some
to the Isthmus of Darien in 1696. Cromwell deported five thousand of
them to the American Colonies in 1650, after the battle of Dunbar;
some followed Prince Charlie into exile in 1745; others were placed
in high positions under the Indian Government by Lord Dundas. Thus
at different times and in different ways, Scotsmen have been driven
and allured, in peace and in war, to seek their fortune elsewhere
than in their native land.
It cannot be said that Scotsmen have always made themselves popular
in the countries they have made their own. The English disliked them
exceedingly when they came in the train of King James, and
complained bitterly of their success, their ‘pushfulness’, their
haughty spirit. As an old song of the period expressed it:
"Thy blue bonnet, when thou came
hither,
Would scarcely keep out the wind or weather;
But now it is turned to a hat and a feather
The bonnet is blown the devil knows whither.
The sword at thy haunch was a huge black blade,
With a great basket-hilt, of iron made;
But now a long rapier doth hang by his side,
And huffingly doth this bonny Scot ride."
Still more violent
did this anti-Caledonian rage become when, after the Union of the
Kingdoms, Scotsmen overran England like a swarm of locusts, and one
of them, Lord Bute, both climbed himself and advanced his
fellow-countrymen to some of the highest offices of state. So keen
was the resentment felt at this minister's partiality, that Smollett
tells us "all the windows of all the inns northwards were scrawled
with doggerel rhymes in abuse of the Scotch nation." The causes of
this unpopularity are not difficult to discover. For one thing, the
Scotsman was that disagreeable kind of person, a poor relation, and
a poor relation, moreover, who was smarting under a sense of former
injuries and resolved to make up for previous ill-treatment by
getting more than his share of the good things going. Another
objectionable feature in all Scotsmen was their clannishness, an
inveterate habit of standing by one another through thick and thin,
to the contempt and undoing of every one else. Johnson complained
that Scotsmen showed a marked disposition "to tell lies in favour of
each other," and stated that if ever a Scotsmen produced a play in
London, his fellow-countrymen would turn up "in droves" to applaud
it. Especially insufferable was a Scotsman's sensitiveness and
pride. He took it as a personal affront if his country was jibed at
in any way, or even impartially described as it really was, and he
had a racial incapacity to see the point of any joke directed
against himself. But a Scotsman's pride has not always been
querulous and provocative. There is often about it a quiet reserve
of assurance and superiority, as of one who knows he has the future
in his hands, and only bides his time for worth and solid merit to
be recognised.
J. H. Burton, The Scot Abroad, p. 70 writes,
"On the brow of the
industrious crofter on the slopes of the Grampians we may see the
well-becoming pride and self-respecting gravity that, in the
fifteenth century, took the honours and distinctions of France as a
natural right. Whence comes his pride? He has no rank he is poor and
he is no representative of an illustrious house. No, but he is
founding a house. He rises up early, and late takes rest, that his
son may go to college and become a gentleman; and when he reads
contemporary history in the public press, he knows that the
grandfather of the eminent law lord, or of the great party leader,
or of the illustrious laboured like himself in the fields close at
hand."
The effect of these wanderings and migrations has been to make the
Scotsman a citizen of the world, less insular and more cosmopolitan
by nature than his English brother. Particularly has this been the
case with the French alliance. France gave Scotland some of its most
characteristic features in law, custom, language, architecture,
manners, parliamentary and ecclesiastical institutions. In these
things, as well as in the pronunciation of the Latin language, and
in the democratic character of its universities, it has transmitted
to Scotland influences and traditions which directly perpetuate the
life of the older Roman Empire. And Scotland has given back as much
as it has received. If it has in past times been a comparatively
poor country, and has added but little to the world's material
wealth, it has been a fruitful mother of men of genius and of spirit
who have vastly enriched mankind in other ways. In proof of this let
the words of an Englishman be quoted. G. Birkbeck Hill in Footsteps
of Dr. Johnson, p. 40, writes,
"In philosophy, in
history, in law, in science, in poetry, in romance, in the arts of
life, in trade, in government, in war, in the spread of our
dominions, in the consolidation of our Empire, glorious has been the
part which Scotsmen have played. Her poet's prayer has been
answered, and in “bright succession” have been raised men to adorn
and guard not only herself but the country which belongs to
Englishmen and Scotsmen alike."
There are two influences to which the ascendancy of Scotsmen in
history may principally be traced, and to which, in conclusion, we
may now briefly allude. These are a love of education and a genius
for religion. Both rose to their full strength in the conflicts of
the Reformation. Previous to that great upheaval, the learning of
the country was chiefly confined to the Universities and a few
monastery and burgh schools, where mediaeval Latinity and
scholasticism were mostly studied. It was the aim of John Knox to
devote the revenues of the old Church to the establishment of a
system of popular education throughout the country, in order that
every class might benefit by the blessings of knowledge, and
especially the Scriptures, which by the recent invention of printing
had been made accessible to all. But the avarice of the Scottish
nobles and the troubles of the time prevented the realization of
these hopes, and made a distinctively Scottish culture and
literature in the seventeenth century impossible. The ideals of the
Book of Discipline, however, were not suffered to be forgotten, and
both in 1616 and in 1696 acts were passed which provided that
schools should be erected and maintained in every parish. But it was
not till a century later that this goal was fully reached. In the
meantime, the national zeal for learning was bearing abundant fruit.
When Bishop Burnet and five other Episcopal divines set out to teach
religion to the people in Covenanting times, "we were indeed
amazed," he wrote, "to see a poor commonalty so capable to argue on
points of government, and on the bounds to be set to the power of
princes in matters of religion: upon all these topics they had texts
of Scripture at hand, and were ready with answers to anything that
was said to them. This measure of knowledge was spread even among
the meanest of them, their cottagers, and their servants." Wesley
was impressed by the same characteristic a century later. His
hearers already knew everything about religion he proposed to tell
them. Johnson, too, was surprised to find that he "never wanted
books" whilst staying in the wildest parts of Skye. The people
showed a marked affinity to the liberal rather than to the manual
arts, and "excelled in ornamental knowledge while they wanted the
conveniences of life." Nor was this state of things confined to the
lower classes or the common schools. The gentry whom Defoe met
showed those unmistakable signs of breeding and education which only
foreign travel could bestow, and John Wesley's burgess ticket at
Aberdeen was couched in a classical and graceful Latin that would
have done credit to any college in Oxford or in Cambridge. This love
of sound learning was a thing ingrained. It was an instinct, a
tradition, with the whole people, cherished since the days when Duns
Scotus, "the Subtle Doctor," dominated the scholasticism of Italy,
or George Buchanan, as a Latinist, won European fame, or the
"Admirable Crichton” disputed in twelve languages at the College of
Navarre. It is hardly possible to exaggerate the influence which
this love of education has had upon the Scottish people. It has
trained their intelligence and liberalized their minds, and given
them a decided advantage in the competition for the prizes and
honours of the world.
The other great influence moulding Scottish character, the chief
dominating force, indeed, in the entire national development, has
been religion. Few have been the periods of Scottish history in
which some knotty problem or other in theology or Church government
has not engrossed the speculations, and determined the activities,
of great masses of the people. In the Reformation struggle, the
dispute was with Catholicism, a dispute which was not settled till
Morton's capture of Edinburgh Castle in 1573 for ever put an end to
the hopes of Mary. But if Popery was bad, Prelacy proved little
better; and no sooner had Protestantism won its victory over
Catholicism than Presbyterianism was called on to take up the
challenge of Episcopalianism. Which was to determine the religion of
Scotland, Laud's Liturgy or the people's National Covenant? This was
the question that rent the country in twain for fifty troubled
years. Religious passions subsided somewhat in the eighteenth
century, and both parties sought relief from controversy in that
more secular and accommodating spirit which showed itself within the
Church as Moderatism. Yet even then the peace and harmony of Zion
were to be disturbed by the "Marrow" controversy, and the various
secessions, with Auld Lichts and New Lichts, and Burgher over
against Anti-Burgher. At a later day, Scotland was stirred to the
depths by the Disruption controversy, then by the Robertson- Smith
heresy case, and then by the fateful decision of the House of Lords
as to the rights and privileges of the Free Church.
This continual preoccupation with the gravest problems of religion
could not do other than leave a deep mark on the character of the
people. Scotland has out-Calvined Calvin in its zeal for
reformation. It embraced his principles with a devotion, and carried
them out with a consistency, that were not to be attempted in any
other nation. The result has been that a certain unsympathetic
hardness has been imparted to religion in Scotland from which it is
only beginning to shake itself free. The Presbyterian ministers of
the seventeenth century were the real masters of the country, and
exercised over both the souls and the bodies of the people a harsh
and rigid discipline which came nigh to intolerable tyranny. But at
least they were learned and self-sacrificing men, for the most part,
of blameless and holy lives, whose moral character was on a much
higher level than that of the corrupt clergy whom they displaced. If
sometimes they were autocratic and intolerant in the exercise of
power, these qualities may have been required in the interests of
that Protestantism they were raised to save, for their enemies aimed
at being as despotic as themselves. There has been much that is
narrow and bigoted in Scottish religious history, but Calvinism,
perhaps because of its very rigour, has been a rare maker of men and
nations, a stern nursing-mother of civil and religious freedom.
Scotland owes much, more than it perhaps knows, to Knox and
Melville, to Peden and James Renwick, to the Book of Discipline and
the Shorter Catechism, to the Bass Rock, the Grassmarket, and the
stakes in the Solway Firth.
We close with the weighty words of an impartial modern historian, P.
Hume Brown. In his History of Scotland, vol. iii., pp. 433, 434, he
writes "Proportionately to her population and her natural resources,
Scotland has made her full contribution to the material and
spiritual building up of the Empire of which she is a constituent
part. In trade and commerce and in all modern industries, her people
have displayed the vigour and the aptitudes demanded in the
international struggle for the markets of the world. Of individual
men, whose destiny it is to lead their fellows, it is acknowledged
that Scotland has been a prolific nurse. In every department of
national activity, Scotsmen have played even more than their
proportionate part. At home more than their proportional share has
fallen to them of public trust and responsibility; and still more
noteworthy has been their participation in the fortunes of the
Empire beyond the seas. Nor in the ideal domain of thought and
imagination, where is found the ultimate test of national greatness,
has Scotland been barren. In the same first half of the nineteenth
century, two of her sons spoke to the world as no other writers of
the time spoke. Of Sir Walter Scott it has been said that his work
has given more wholesome pleasure to a greater number of readers
than the work of any other writer; and within their same age the
most inspiring word uttered to his generation was that of another
Scot, Thomas Carlyle. As co-partners in the destinies of Britain's
Empire, Scotland may fairly claim to have borne her own burden, and
to have made her own contribution to the well-being of the nations."
Travellers’ Tales of
Scotland
By R. H. Coats, M.A. (1913) (pdf) |