Historians of religion and historians of social reform and social welfare have, or at least should have, much to say to each other. Unfortunately, this does not always seem to happen. The former can be neglectful of the social implications of theological debate and church practices. But it is the latter who are particularly culpable in that very few pay adequate attention to the services and practices of religious bodies nor to the influence which such bodies have on social thought, social reform and social action. Scotland, the geographical home of the two works reviewed here, is a case in point. So, for example, and with a few honourable exceptions, historians have not fully explored the nature and practices of the nineteenth- and twentieth-century Scottish poor law, far less the participation of religious leaders and groups in its administration and policy formation and implementation. These two books, although different in many respects, none the less have in common a desire to show how particular religious bodies sought to extend their message into the practical realm of social politics.

At the heart of MacColl's book is, as he puts it, the ‘connections between the church and the land question’ in mid to late nineteenth-century Scotland (p. 2). More particularly, he is concerned with the role of the Free Church of Scotland, created as a result of the Disruption of 1843. MacColl's central argument is that ‘evangelical leaders significantly forwarded the defence of Highland community values’; and, moreover, that this critical engagement with the structures of contemporary Highland society increased in the period down to the so-called ‘crofters' war’ of the 1880s (p. 5). Indeed, at various points – for example, p. 214 – he highlights the Free Church's claims to be ‘the church of the Highlands’ and, with regard to the land question, its advocacy of ‘an organicist, historicist conception of the link between the land and the people’ (p. 219). Such a vision of Highland society was, of course, at odds with the tenets of laissez-faire liberalism. This analysis is further enhanced by MacColl's careful elaboration of the notion that as the latter part of the nineteenth century unfolded, the sense of the crofting community as distinct grew and, as a corollary, that a division emerged between the Free Church in the Highlands and elsewhere. Although the author's focus is undoubtedly on the Free Church, he is also careful to compare and contrast its position with that of the Established Church and, to a lesser extent, that of the Roman Catholic Church.

As will be evident from even such a cursory outline, one of MacColl's aims is to refute the notion that the sort of evangelical Christianity promoted by the Free Church somehow necessarily led to complicity with, or passivity in the face of, the fundamental changes which the Highlands of Scotland were undergoing in the latter half of the nineteenth century. Here he is thus taking on other historians such as Boyd Hilton and, in particular, James Hunter. In a key statement, the author argues that his evidence shows that an ‘evangelical calvinist theological position’ did not preclude criticism of laissez-faire nor, indeed, the espousal of ‘state intervention in the redistribution of land for crofters’ (p. 10). Such evidence includes the participation of Free Church ministers and laypersons in the activities of the campaigning Highland Land Law Reform Association, and MacColl further suggests that this body gained much of its political legitimacy and even ideology from the evangelicals (p. 178).

This is an intriguing book, well written and well argued, and one which adds significantly to our understanding of late nineteenth-century Scotland and of the role therein of religious bodies in promoting social reform. As befits a work deriving from a doctoral thesis, it is anxious to confront established wisdom. This is commendable, although there are places where the reader might suspect MacColl of somewhat overstating the case in his determination to restore the reputation of the Free Church. None the less, this is an important work.

In A canticle of love John Watts gives what is in many ways an incredibly thorough and well-researched history of the Franciscan Sisters of the Immaculate Conception, founded in 1847 and the only such Catholic body to have originated in Scotland during the last five hundred years. The book's structure is, essentially, chronological, thus running from the middle of the nineteenth century to the present. As Watts carefully makes clear, the sisters have sought in the course of their history to work with variously disadvantaged groups, in Scotland and elsewhere. So, for instance, we learn (p. 65) that the sisters were involved in Scottish education, ‘both in teaching the present generation themselves and in educating the next generation's teachers’. Some seventy years later we find a small delegation of sisters still spreading the educational message, this time in Nigeria (p. 151). Somewhat by contrast, although still in line with their underlying philosophy, sisters were, by the late twentieth century, working with HIV/AIDS sufferers in both Scotland and Africa (ch. x).

Watts documents these activities in a vigorous and engaged way. That he is engaged is beyond question, and while scrupulous in his use of archival and other sources there can be no doubt that he is deeply sympathetic to his subject matter. To a lesser extent this is also the case with MacColl, and while this does not devalue either work, it is something which the reader has to bear in mind. But, this mild caveat aside, these are two books which can be usefully read by historians of both religion and social welfare, and it is to be hoped that each enjoys a wide audience.