The Scottish Enlightenment

Alexander Broadie

• Publisher: Canongate Books
• Year: 2010
• ISBN:
  9781847675736
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Scottish History
• Index: History

Edited and Introduced by Alexander Broadie.The Scottish Enlightenment is one of the great achievements of European culture. In philosophy, law, economics, politics, linguistics and the physical sciences, Scots were key players in changing the way the world was viewed. And this explosion of activity still reverberates. It was the age of David Hume, Thomas Reid and Adam Smith, of Adam Ferguson, James Hutton and Sir John Sinclair. In his authoritative introduction, Alexander Broadie emphasises not only the diversity of intellectual discussion taking place in this small country located on the outer edge of Europe, but also the European dimension of this Scottish movement.After the general introduction, the anthology is arranged thematically – Human Nature, Ethics, Aesthetics, Religion, Economics, Social Theory and Politics, Law, Historiography, Language and Science. These sections gather together well-known and lesser-known writings of the time. Much of the material has not been reprinted since the 18th century. Those with an interest in the Scottish cultural tradition will find many things to hold their attention in this unique book.'Provides generous extracts from key works and masterly brief introductions.' Economist'A major contribution to our literature and intellectual resources and I do not think it could be better done... For many people this book will become a companion for years or even a lifetime.' Scotsman

PART I

INTRODUCTION
WHAT WAS
THE SCOTTISH ENLIGHTENMENT?

INTRODUCTION

I

To understand the Scottish Enlightenment it is necessary both to grasp the concept of Enlightenment, and also to appreciate the fittingness of the application of the concept to eighteenth-century Scotland. I shall begin by discussing the concept and shall then turn to its specifically Scottish dimension.

Much the most influential account of the nature of Enlightenment that has come down to us from the Age of Enlightenment was written not by a Scot but by a German, Immanuel Kant (1724–1804). Since I shall be stressing the fact that the Scottish Enlightenment was the Scottish contribution to a more than Europe-wide movement, it is appropriate to consider the concept of Enlightenment as expounded by perhaps the greatest philosopher of the European movement, particularly in view of the fact that Kant’s account accords closely with events in Scotland and in view also of the extent to which Scottish philosophers influenced him.1 In 1785 he wrote a short essay in response to a request from the Berlinische Monatsschrift for an answer to the question ‘What is Enlightenment?’2 He defined Enlightenment as ‘man’s release from his self-incurred tutelage’, tutelage being the inability to make use of one’s understanding without direction from another. It is self-incurred if failure to use one’s own understanding is due to laziness and cowardice. Kant therefore suggests as a motto for the Enlightenment: ‘Sapere aude – Dare to know’ or, as he paraphrases the Latin injunction: ‘Have courage to use your own reason.’

In Enlightenment, therefore, the autonomy of reason is centre-stage. We think in an enlightened way when it is we who are generating the ideas. Instead of doing no more than following intellectual pathways cut by others, giving our assent to their ideas without any contribution of our own, we are engaged in thinking creatively. This suggests that enlightened thinking is not to be identified by its content so much as by its form. It is not what we think that makes our thinking enlightened but the way we think. In particular the enlightened thinker accepts things not merely on the authority of another but on his own authority and in the light of his own thinking on the matter.

For Kant there is a social dimension to Enlightenment, for Enlightenment requires freedom, not only freedom of will but also freedom to operate in a certain way in society, and indeed he believes that once such freedom is granted Enlightenment should come easily. The freedom Kant has in mind is the freedom that a man of letters has to publish his thoughts, to lay them open to public criticism by others and to respond publicly to their criticism. This is not at all like the freedom that a soldier might take to himself to disobey orders, or like the freedom that a pastor might take to himself to preach what he believes even if it is contrary to the teachings of the Church, or like the freedom that a citizen might take to himself to refuse to pay taxes when payment is rightfully demanded. Such freedoms work against the discipline that has to be maintained in practical matters if there is to be social stability, and since there can be no Enlightenment in time of social chaos they also work against the possibility of Enlightenment.

The freedom that Kant has in mind is, then, simply the freedom of a man of letters to put his ideas into the public domain for public discussion. In an enlightened age a soldier would be free to dispute in public the tactics or the strategy developed by his superiors even though he would not be free to disobey orders, the citizen would be free to dispute in public the wisdom of some given form of tax even though he would not be free to break the law regarding payment of that tax, and so on. In each case therefore the citizen who is free to dispute in public is also bound to obey those in authority. This is not to imply that Enlightenment has no practical results. It is bound to have, but the results flow from this essential feature of the situation, that there has been free, public debate on the practical issues, regarding say government policy, or professional ethics. Ideas have been tested in the intellectual market place and have passed that test. That they have passed is a powerful inducement to those in authority to implement them. In an enlightened state they would be implemented.

The two central elements of Kant’s analysis, those concerning free discussion in the public domain and reliance upon one’s own reason, are at the heart of most accounts of the nature of the Enlightenment, and certainly accord well with the experience of the Enlightenment in Scotland. To get a sense of the significance of these ideas it is important to see what it is with which Enlightenment is being contrasted. As against the employment of one’s own reason there is the lazy and cowardly acceptance of ideas and beliefs on the authority of another. The unenlightened person says ‘yes’ to an idea, not because he has thought it through and sees that it is true, but because someone whom he accepts as an authority has told him it is true. But to accept something merely on the word of another is an exercise of faith. One form of such an exercise is religious faith; it is, in most of its forms, based on reports, now unverifiable, of miracles, and on reports, now unverifiable, that God spoke to human beings. On the other hand science is based not on faith but on reason. Scientists think things through for themselves. It is true that they accept many things on trust, for in general they trust the word of other scientists, and if they did not do so then science would make hardly any progress. But the propositions they accept on trust are not accepted only and always on trust, for if a scientist is at all sceptical about another scientist’s report he can confirm or disconfirm the report by testing it. In this respect the scientist sceptical about another scientist’s report is unlike the religious person who has become sceptical about a proposition he had previously accepted on the authority of the Bible, that God had spoken to Abraham or that Lazarus had risen from the dead, for it is now too late to test reports such as these.

There is no doubt that, during the Enlightenment, religion in general, and Christianity in particular, were subjected to rational scrutiny as never before. And while the enlightened were not predominantly anti-religious, some were, and many held religious views which were anaemic compared with the common stance of previous ages, for they held that only doctrines sanctioned by reason were to be believed, and that the magnum mysterium of religion, in so far as this was taken to be beyond the bounds of reason, was to be rejected. There was, therefore, in keeping with the idea that reality was fundamentally rational, a tendency towards the demystification of religion, and the affirmation of a rational religion or natural religion, a natural religion being one congenial to our rational nature. It was this need for such sanction as reason could provide that prompted a substantial literature on the reasonableness of Christianity (this last phrase being the title of an influential work by the English philosopher John Locke (1632–1704)).

Not only Christianity was at issue in these Enlightenment discussions. Judaism and Islam were also, as well as religions of India and the Far East, knowledge of which was feeding into the anthropological literature of the eighteenth century, along with accounts of the languages and customs of these distant peoples. Nevertheless it was for obvious reasons primarily Christianity that was at issue when the enlightened thinkers of Western Europe discussed religion, and the predominant position was that true religion, and therefore Christianity so far as it embodied religious truth, could be worked out by reason. There are many possible views concerning how much of Christianity can be worked out by reason. Some held that little if anything could be, while others thought that reason could go a considerable distance in the direction of the reconstruction of Christianity.

We find the full range of positions among the leaders of the Scottish Enlightenment. David Hume was probably an atheist, and if not an atheist then at least highly sceptical about the claims of religion; Hugh Blair and Thomas Reid on the other hand were deeply committed Christians and, as ministers of the Kirk, accustomed to preach their Christianity from the pulpit. Intermediate between these positions were deists, who maintained at least that a creator God existed, but who expressed also scepticism of one degree or another concerning those truths of revealed religion that can be accepted only on faith and cannot be demonstrated by reason. There is room for discussion about where James Hutton, the greatest geologist of the Age of Enlightenment, should be placed on the theist/atheist spectrum. His teaching on geological time gave rise to a strongly hostile response from a significant group within the Kirk who saw him as contradicting fundamental Christian teaching, though Hutton tells us that through proper consideration of the Earth we shall be led ‘to acknowledge an order, not unworthy of Divine wisdom’. And though there were serious attempts to arraign Henry Home, Lord Kames, before the Kirk in view of his beliefs, no one doubted that he was deeply committed to Christian truth; the doubts all concerned his loyalty to the Kirk’s vision of that truth.

The contrast between science and religion is at the heart of the rhetorical significance of the term ‘Enlightenment’ itself (Aufklärung in Germany, Lumières in France, Ilustración in Spain and Illuminismo in Italy). The term was used self-consciously by those who saw themselves as enlightened, as living in the light, in contrast with those who lived in darkness, the benighted ones. ‘Enlightenment’ was therefore a term of self-congratulation, and when those who were enlightened congratulated themselves on living in the light the denizens of darkness whom they most saw themselves as unlike were the ‘schoolmen’, the theologians of the Middle Ages, who relied on faith rather than reason, and whose favourite argument was the argument from authority. A given proposition is true. What is the evidence? It is that Aristotle assented to it, or St Augustine did, or John of Damascus, and so on. This view of the medieval theologians is demonstrably false, and it is worth while spelling out what makes it so, for by that means we shall be able to focus on the distinctive feature of the Age of Enlightenment that made that Age enlightened and the Middle Ages not.

Medieval theologians recognised the authority of certain texts, above all the Bible, but also the writings of Aristotle, and there were other authoritative texts also. The theologians were accustomed to use the fact that an authoritative text affirmed a given proposition as a reason for saying that the proposition was true. But they also used other sons of arguments, arguments that do not rely upon the authority of others, but instead rely upon sheer rational insight and upon the authority of one’s senses. And even when quoting an authority there was still a question as to how the authority was to be interpreted, and there was often deep disagreement on such matters. So the schoolmen argued with each other in the public domain, as men of letters do. It is true that they were told what they had to believe as members of their faith community, but they sought a rational basis for these beliefs wherever possible, though arguing among themselves over what religious propositions could be supported by reason (and arguing about how strong the support was when it was available); and they did not regard themselves as trumped if they were contradicted by an authoritative text, for they could then argue about whether that text meant what it was thought to mean.

These debates were often conducted in public. That is to say, the theologians wrote their arguments down and passed them round for others to judge them. Furthermore they had, in Kant’s phrase, ‘the courage to use their own reason’; they did not simply reheat and retail the same old arguments. Those debates therefore have characteristics not unlike the debates of the enlightened thinkers of the eighteenth century.

But there is a crucial difference. It concerns freedom. As we saw, Kant regards as a characteristic feature of Enlightenment the unlimited freedom of the man of letters to say his say in public. The only tribunal that matters is the tribunal of human reason, in particular the reason of other men of letters. In an enlightened society the fact that a person in authority does not like the conclusions drawn by the men of letters, has no bearing on whether they have the right to pronounce their views in public. The Age of Enlightenment is therefore an age of toleration; above all, those in authority tolerate the men of letters. For the authorities not to tolerate them is for there to be external constraints placed upon the voice of reason, whereas in the Age of Enlightenment the only constraint on that voice is internal, a judgment by the tribunal of human reason itself.

In the Middle Ages there was no such toleration by those in authority. Far from the medieval theologians having unlimited freedom to dispute in public, a false theological move would have been a dangerous, even a deadly, act for them. They were free to an extent; but there were many propositions they could not safely defend, and here we have the whole range of medieval heresies to turn to for propositions that marked the limit of the toleration of the free expression of reason in the Middle Ages. Since toleration is a necessary part of Enlightenment the medieval period was not an Age of Enlightenment. It is not a coincidence that John Locke’s Letters Concerning Toleration (1689, 1690, 1692), which demanded religious toleration for all theists who had not declared loyalty to another country, ushered in a period of intense interest in the idea of toleration. In a sense toleration was the moral space within which the Enlightenment developed. David Hume observes: ‘So true it is, that however other nations may rival us in poetry, and excel us in some other agreeable arts, the improvements in reason and philosophy can only be owing to a land of toleration and of liberty.’1

In respect of the freedom of the man of letters to follow his reason whithersoever it takes him, and to do so in public, Scotland of the eighteenth century was immeasurably more tolerant than was society in the Middle Ages. There were of course many intolerant people who would gladly have prevented certain men of letters publishing their views. But to speak of the Enlightenment is to speak not of a society in which all citizens are tolerant, but of a society whose citizens are tolerated when they exercise their reason in public discussion, and are tolerated even by those in authority who do not like what they hear. Of course no society is, or perhaps can be, perfectly tolerant or perfectly enlightened. This is a matter of relativities. Scotland in the eighteenth century was enlightened compared with the countries of Western Europe during the Middle Ages.

Edinburgh’s treatment of David Hume, a noted sceptic on matters of religion, and accused even of a lack of warmth in the cause of virtue, bears testimony to the comparatively high level of toleration. His attempt to gain the moral philosophy chair in Edinburgh in 1745 came to grief partly because twelve of the fifteen ministers called upon to vote on Hume’s candidacy voted against him, and the evidence suggests that they did so because, in light of what they believed to be his doctrines on morality and religion, they thought that Hume was simply unfit to hold the chair.1 However neither they nor the country’s political leaders attempted to prevent him publishing his thoughts, as contrasted with the obstacles which would certainly have been raised in the Middle Ages in many cities. Furthermore Hume had formidable allies, such as Lord Elibank and Lord Tinwall within the ranks of the ‘literati’ (as active participants in the Scottish Enlightenment described themselves) who put up a strong fight on Hume’s behalf. The fact that he lost, therefore, has to be kept in perspective, since he had his supporters as well as his opponents and he continued to expound his views.

The case of Hume is particularly important in this context since his position was extreme in the area of religion in that he was, at least by repute, an atheist. That reputation is possibly unfair, for it could be argued that he maintained not that belief in a personal God is false, but that such a belief is not supported by sound argument. It is true that he argues against arguments for theism, but it has been claimed that Hume’s sceptical philosophy points, more widely, to the conclusion that statements about the existence and attributes of a personal God are simply not within the competence of human reason to settle. This position leaves the field open to faith, and accords well with some versions of Calvinism. In so far as his position is that reason cannot decide the religious questions at issue, then Hume’s is not an atheistic position. Nevertheless he did have a reputation, widespread within the Kirk but also beyond, for atheism. Despite this he continued to write and to publish, and his views were common knowledge, even if there was disagreement as to their precise import. In addition he was an enthusiastic member of all the best clubs of Edinburgh, and his wide circle of friends included almost all the prominent literati. He was, in short, more than just tolerated; for many people Hume’s presence in Edinburgh was a matter for rejoicing.

II

I have now discussed the most influential account of the nature of Enlightenment that has come down to us from the Age of Enlightenment, and I should like next to focus more precisely upon the Enlightenment in Scotland. As a first step let us note that Scotland’s situation at the start of the eighteenth century has prompted many to ask how this of all countries could, just then, have moved towards the accomplishmen...