Strength of a People: The Idea of an Informed Citizenry in America, 1650-1870 0807822612, 9780807822616

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(jp' Th e Strength o f a People

T h e Strength o f a People 9* The Idea o f an Inform ed C itizen ry in A m erica, 1650—18 70 ? r j\

v Richard D . Brown T H E U N I V E R S I T Y OF N O R T H C A R O L I N A P R E S S

C h ap el H ill & Lon d on

© 1996 T h e University

Library o f Congress

o f N orth C arolina Press

Cataloging-in-Publication D au

A ll rights reserved

Brown, Richard D .

M anufactured in the

The strength o f a people : the idea o f an

United Su tes o f Am erica

inform ed citizenry in Am erica, 1650-1870 /

T h e paper in this book meets the

by Richard D . Brown,

guidelines for permanence and durability

p.

cm .

o f the Com m ittee on Production

Includes bibliographical references and

Guidelines for Book Longevity o f the

index.

Council on Library Resources.

ISBN 0-8078-2261-2 (cloth : alk. paper)

M aterial from chapters 1-4 o f the present

1. Political science— United Sutes—

w ork appeared in a slightly different form

History. 2. Political socialization—

in “ T h e Idea o f an Inform ed C itizenry in

United Sutes— History. 3. Freedom o f

the Early Republic,“ in D evising Liberty:

inform ation— United Sutes— History.

Preserving an d Creating Freedom in the

4. C ivics— Study and teaching— United

N ew Am erican Republic, ed. D avid T.

Sutes— History.

König (Stanford: Stanford University

JA 84.U 5B74

Press, 1995), © 1995 by the Board o f

)0 6 .i '0973'0903— dc20

I. Tide.

19 9 6 95.35OI3

Trustees o f the Leland Stanford Junior

CIP

University, all rights reserved, and “ Bulwark o f Revolutionary Liberty: Thom as Jefferson's and John Adams’s Programs for an Inform ed Citizenry," in ThomasJefferson an d the Education o f C itizens, ed. Jam es G ilreath et al. (W ashington, D .C .: U .S. Departm ent o f Education and the Center for the Book in the Library o f Congress, 1995). Published by permission o f the publishers.

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C o n ten ts

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Acknowledgments Introduction C hapter i English Subjects and Citizens from the Reformation through the Glorious Revolution

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C h apter2 Freedom and Citizenship in Britain and Its American Colonies

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C hapter^ Bulwark o f Revolutionary Liberty: T he Recognition o f the Informed Citizen

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C hapter 4 Shaping an Informed Citizenry for a Republican Future

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C hapter^ The Idea o f an Informed Citizenry and the M obilization o f Institutions, 1820-1850

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C hapter 6 Testing the M eaning o f an Informed Citizenry, 1820-1870

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E pilogue Looking Backward: The Idea o f an Inform ed Citizenry at the End o f the Twentieth Century

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Notes

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Index

Illustrations n6

Cover o f pamphlet edition o f U .S. Constitution, 1833

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The American Society for the D iffusion o f Useful Knowledge’s "American Library,” 1837

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Lecture, 1844

136 “T he Tawny G irl,” 1823 138

Broadside used to promote Lancasterian schools in Britain, 1813

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Illustrations from the M anual o f the Lancasterian System , 1820

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Sabbath school classroom, [1825]

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St. Paul, M innesota, periodical presenting translation from the Bible in the Dakota language, 1852

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Frontispiece for The Liberty B e ll showing a white girl instructing black children, 1839

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W oodcut suggesting the legitim acy and practicality o f African Am erican literacy, [1827]

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Image depicting antislavery meeting audience notable for its inclusive representation o f citizenship, 1851

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Illustration o f reception for Daniel Webster portraying the dominant view o f citizenship, 1851

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Cover illustration for popular song, “We’ll Show You W hen We Com e to Vote,” presenting an im aginary scene o f what would happen if women were enfranchised, 1869

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Denial o f Victoria Woodhull s attempt to vote in New York City, 1871

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African Am ericans voting in the South, 1867

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Acknow ledgm ents Thanks arc due to a number o f people and institutions who con­

tributed significandy to this work. In 1990 the Center for the H istory o f Freedom at Washington University in St. Louis, directed by Professor Richard W. Davis, invited me to write a chapter on the idea o f an informed citizenry in the early American republic. As a nonresident fellow o f the cen­ ter in 19 9 0 -9 1,1 was the beneficiary o f material and intellectual support, particularly from D avid Thom as König, editor o f D evising Liberty (1995), in which m y essay appeared; Lance Banning; Paul A . G ilje; Jan Lewis; Peter S. O nuf; and Alan Taylor. Two o f the center’s invited critics, Robert A. Gross and Linda K. Kerber, also provided constructive suggestions. In the early stages o f the project, J. A . W. Gunn, Isaac Kram nick, and Gordon J. Schochet all supplied valuable advice. In 1992-93 an American Antiquarian Society-N ational Endowment for the Humanities Fellowship enabled me to do extensive research in nineteenth-century printed sources and to benefit from the community o f scholars that gathers around the remarkable library o f the American Antiquarian Society. Am ong those whose conversation and specific suggestions helped my project were M ary H . Blewett, Steven C . Bullock, W illiam J . Gilm ore-Lehne, Bruce Laurie, Lillian B . M iller, Kenneth J. M oynihan, Jane R. Pomeroy, Marcus W ood, M ary S. Zboray, and Ronald J. Zboray. I would also like to thank AAS staff members Georgia B. Barnhill, Joanne D . Chaison, and John B. Hench for their generous con­ tributions to the study. Support from the University o f Connecticut has taken several forms, in­ cluding two small grants from the University o f Connecticut Research Foun­ dation, one with provision for research assistance by John C . Davenport and W. Guthrie Sayen; an R T D award to supplement the 1992-93 A A S-N EH Fellowship; and secretarial help from Doris B. Bassett and Debra L. Crary. The entire text was written in a study carrel in the university’s Homer Babbidge Library, where the staff provided expert assistance, particularly Robert W. Vrecenak and the staff o f the interlibrary loan department. I would also like to thank H istory Department colleagues Susan Porter Benson, Christopher Collier, Karen Ordahl Kupperman, R . Kent Newmyer, Donald Spivey, and Bruce M . Stave, as well as Professor Gerald N . Tirozzi o f the School o f Education, who helped in various ways. M ary Kupiec Cayton

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and Richard R . John made valuable suggestions on an early conference paper, and several other scholars generously shared their unpublished papers with me: N ancy F. C ott, W illiam J . Gilm oie-Lehne, M arc W. Krum an, Lorraine Sm ith Pangle, and Thom as L. Pangle. A t the University o f North Carolina Press, Paula Wald contributed her editorial skills to preparing the final text. For any substantial errors and omissions that remain, I am responsible. M arch 1995 Storrs, Connecticut

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Introduction

For at least two centuries, Americans have believed in the idea that citizens should be informed in order to be able to exercise their civic responsi­ bilities wisely. A t the birth o f the republic, the necessity o f an informed .citizenry was proclaimed loudly and often by such notables as Samuel Adams, John Adams, George Washington, Thom as Jefferson, and Jam es M adison, in addition to a host o f less well known leaders. Indeed, one o f the legacies o f the early republic was an ideology o f an informed citizenry that would become a central theme in American public life, encouraging a wide array o f voluntary associations such as political parries as well as promoting the printing indus­ try, the post office, and the development o f public education from prim ary schools through technical colleges and universities. Am ong Jefferson’s most prized and enduring historical contributions was state-supported public edu­ cation in Virginia, especially the university; Abraham Lincoln, who as a lad had trudged barefoot to a frontier schoolhouse, sponsored and signed the 1862 law that gave federal lands to the states to endow agricultural and techni­ cal colleges. By the C ivil War era, the idea o f an informed citizenry had grown into an article o f national faith. Moreover, the ideology o f an informed citizenry, which continues to sus­ tain the principle o f free speech and press, has been a cornerstone o f demo­ cratic politics. In our own time, a whole panoply o f educational institutions — from Head Start classes to graduate schools— supports the popular pre­ sumption that the citizenry is informed sufficiendy to choose public officials and policies at the ballot box. Educational institutions are thought to pro­ vide the necessary basic skills and knowledge, while a free press and political campaigns supply the specific information consumers require to make par­ ticular decisions. No one supposes that this system guarantees that the citi­ zenry is fully informed, but when American democracy is assessed in a global context and its huge size and exceptional heterogeneity are figured in, it is widely agreed that the idea o f an informed citizenry has been a crucial ingre­ dient in the United States’ success. The idea o f an informed citizenry has been so fam iliar since the late nine­ teenth century, and so interwoven with the rhetoric o f democracy and edu­ cation, that we have been tempted to take it for granted. From the era o f John Dewey and the Progressives, Americans have debated segregation and

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Introduction integration, evolution and creationism, school prayer, public funding o f private and parochial schools, parental choice o f schools, and even home schooling; but the principle that America should have an informed citizenry has been above controversy— a fixed star in the rhetorical universe.1 Perhaps it is for this reason that the history o f this bright, fam iliar star has not been examined. The more closely we approach the idea o f an informed citizenry, however, the more evident it is that the meaning o f this idea is not fixed but fluid and imprecise. Being informed has changed its meaning across the generations, as has the common and legal understanding o f who can be a citizen and the rights and responsibilities o f citizenship. Consequendy, in order to under­ stand what Americans have meant when they have asserted and invoked the idea o f an informed citizenry, we must trace the idea back to its origins and analyze the ways in which it has changed over tíme. O nly then can we com­ prehend both how this idea has shaped American society and how intellec­ tual and cultural movements as well as social and political forces have in turn reshaped it. As with many o f the United Sutes’ fundamental institutions, the idea o f an informed citizenry began in Tudor and Stuart England, where in the six­ teenth and seventeenth centuries gentlemen first defined and asserted quasi­ republican principles o f citizenship. N ot surprisingly, these ideas crossed the Atlantic and became embedded in the political culture o f the AngloAmerican colonies. But as long as the seat o f empire lay in Britain and ruled by a monarchy, the American colonists felt no particular urgency to engage in public discussion o f notions o f an informed citizenry. O nly occasionally, when issues o f a free press or public education were being considered, did the idea o f an informed citizenry command more than passing attention in the American colonies. T he opposition to imperial policy and the independence movement it spawned changed the situation decisively in the 1760s and 1770s, propelling the idea o f an informed citizenry onto the center stage o f public discourse. Now, suddenly, it mattered greatly whether colonists knew their political rights and understood the ways in which Parliament and the king were in­ fringing on them. W hen the Continental Congress declared independence in 1776, and thus transformed the thirteen colonies into functioning, de jure republics, the idea o f an informed citizenry took on new meanings and added significance. D efining citizenship and its rights and responsibilities posed urgent questions that had immediate importance as well as funda­ mental, long-term consequences. In the early republic, the effort to elaborate

Introduction the meaning o f an informed citizenry involved legislators, governors, presi­ dents, and the intelligentsia o f gendemen, clergymen, and journalists. To many o f these men, the idea that an inform ed citizenry was critical to the success o f the republic served as a guiding principle when they designed American institutions. T he press, the post office, and public education were the leading candidates for government subsidies and encouragement but not the only ones. In the old Puritan colonies, now sutes, o f Connecticut and Massachusetts, churches, too, were subsidized to help assure an informed and virtuous citizenry, and everywhere voluntary associations promoted their own versions o f an informed citizenry. As all sorts o f people and orga­ nizations took up the call for promoting an informed citizenry, the original political objectives o f the idea became increasingly blurred with each passing decade, and a variety o f other purposes were extolled as contributing to moral, cultural, social, and economic improvement, both individual and collective. D uring the same era when the meanings o f being informed were multi­ plied— that is, the first h alf o f the nineteenth century— the boundaries o f the right to full citizenship were being contested. The freeholder cidzenry o f white, property-holding men established by the Revolution was direcdy challenged by workingmen, African Americans, and women. By the 1830s and 1840s, spokespersons for these people were contending that since they could be just as informed as most freeholders, there was no logical reason to continue to exclude them from full political participation. They turned the old notion that a citizens participation should be informed on its head. In essence they asserted that if people were informed and otherwise qualified to be citizens, they should enjoy the right to participate as voters and office­ holders, even if they were poor, or black, or female. As a result o f these claims, a m ajor contest over the boundaries o f citizen­ ship developed. Ultim ately property was deleted from the qualifications for full-fledged citizenship, and race was officially excluded from consideration by the Fifteenth Amendment. Still, notwithstanding the logic o f the idea o f an informed citizenry, the men who ruled the United States reinforced sex as a barrier to political participation. N o matter how well-inform ed women might be, in 1870 they were excluded im plicitly from enfranchisement by the Fifteenth Amendment, and five years later, they were expressly denied the right to vote by the Supreme C ourt o f the United States. By this judg­ ment, as well as by the wholesale enfranchisement o f African American men and, still earlier, o f white men whose only qualifications were residence, race, and sex— not literacy or learning— the idea o f being informed was practi-

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Introduction cally and sym bolically severed from considerations o f active citizenship. T he idea o f an informed citizenry that had been formulated during the Revolution and early republic lived on in rhetoric and could still be pressed into political service, but it no longer operated as a guiding principle. Parts o f this history have long been known to scholars, but the emergence and development o f the idea o f an informed citizenry, and its various per­ mutations, have never before been explored systematically. By telling the story o f the evolution o f this idea across more than two centuries, this study makes a beginning. T he effort is useful, I think, because it enables us to un­ derstand better the dynamic secular and religious forces that were responsi­ ble for shaping some o f American society’s key institutions, particularly in the fields o f communication and education. An uncensored, competitive press, a nationally subsidized postal service and transportation networks, and a wide spectrum o f public and private educational agencies, particularly schools, colleges, libraries, lecture series, and museums, are all founded on the belief that Am erica must have an informed citizenry. By studying the his­ tory o f this idea, we can gain insight into the shifting character o f the funda­ mental social, cultural, and political values that have been shaping this society since its formation. T his history is important for more than academic reasons. In contempo­ rary public life, it is vital to be reminded that central articles o f political faith like belief in an informed citizenry are not platonic ideals embodying fixed meanings that stand outside o f time and place. T he history o f this idea demonstrates conclusively that it was formulated and shaped across many generations according to the beliefs and objectives o f particular people and movements in the context o f specific events. By tracing the historical record, this study enables those who wish to invoke the ideal o f an informed citi­ zenry and apply it to contemporary policy making to do so in ways that are consistent with past realities and are not merely rhetorically convenient. T his study w ill not, however, be o f much use to those who are trying to determine whether Americans were in fact informed or ignorant at any time in the past. Although I have touched on past economic, social, and political realities in order to understand the context in which the idea o f an informed citizenry developed, I have avoided any attempt to assess the extent to which the peoples o f the colonies and the United States were actually informed be­ cause the task is impossibly subjective. Even though scholars have assembled data on literacy and schooling for some places and periods in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, this information can supply no substantive knowl-

Introduction edge as to whether people were informed. To address such a question, one would have to specify the subject o f knowledge: informed about what? Then, as now, the range o f possibilities is endless. People can be informed in a mul­ titude o f specialized subjects— personal, local, occupational, recreational. Even if one were to specify a subject such as public affairs, it would be difficult to set that subject’s boundaries in a present-day context. Establishing such a category or trying to measure with reliability or precision whether peo­ ple were informed in a past setting would be impossible since only anecdotal evidence survives. Over the past century and a half, many admonitions have been issued about how uninformed the younger generations are. Some or all o f these warnings may have been accurate; but this study cannot address those questions. Instead, the work that follows explores the emergence and chang­ ing meanings o f the idea that gave rise to those cries o f alarm, that is, the belief that Am ericas political, economic, and social prosperity requires an informed citizenry.

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Th e Strength o f a People

C h apter

English Subjects

and Citizens from the Reformation through the Glorious Revolution Political liberty has long been the pride o f England. But if one reaches back to the reign o f H enry V III in the sixteenth century, or to the rule o f his Stuart successors, one finds the same kinds o f autocracy, repression, and arbitrary government that were then characteristic o f Continental monarchies. The political liberty for which England became famous during the Enlight­ enment resulted from generations o f struggle. Indeed, the "rights o f English­ men” were more the fruits o f expedient compromises than the products o f any deliberate constitutional scheme. Certainly political ideals mattered, and English political theory was not just retroactive rationalization for accom­ plished facts. But the influence o f ideas was subde, an influence exerted over decades o f power struggles am ong the king, nobles, gentry, merchants, and lawyers who ruled England. Achieving legitim acy was always an issue for monarchs and their chal­ lengers, and it was invariably based upon abstract principles that were more fiction than fact.1 T he hereditary principle was the political legacy o f the M iddle Ages, a seemingly simple idea that lineage conferred legitimacy. But in reality, as the Wars o f the Roses had recently demonstrated, victory on the battlefield and the alliances o f magnates were at least as important as lineage in the Tudor era. Still, governance was more than the brute force o f the m ighty over the weak because it required acquiescence, i f not a measure o f consent. The divine authority o f kings— which should ideally pass from the monarch to his eldest son— supplied a reason to justify the concept o f polit­ ical superiority and inferiority that was replicated throughout the social hi­ erarchy, from the nobility, gentry, and commonalty down to the fam ily o f the humblest laboring patriarch.2 According to the most basic monarchical theory, only two categories o f people existed: a king and his subjects. The king possessed dom inion over all who dwelled in his realm, and the subjects owed allegiance to the monarch and his government. Every subject was bound by the laws o f the kingdom, laws that also supplied every subject with protection. In this restricted sense,

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English Subjects and Citizens all subjects were equal. Yet at the same time, the principle o f hierarchy, which divided the king from his subjects, extended throughout society, dividing and ranking the king’s subjects according to lineage, property, and privilege as well as age and sex. Some subjects ruled over others and enjoyed powers and immunities known as rights and liberties. In the House o f Lords and the House o f Com m ons, the greatest and most privileged o f the kings subjects collaborated with the monarch’s own appointees to rule over the realm. Because the principle o f heredity lay at the foundation o f all legitimacy, those who enjoyed such liberties, immunities, and privileges tended to view them as rights, as being their permanent possessions until such time as they should either forfeit them voluntarily or according to due process o f law. The idea o f rights and guaranteed privileges modified the status o f a sub­ ject powerfully, dim inishing the subordinate and submissive character o f be­ ing a subject. By the Renaissance, it was common to speak o f some subjects as citizens, a term that implied the possession o f civil and political rights and privileges. In medieval times, the term "citizen” had been applied to towns­ men particularly, but during the Tudor era, a more enlarged view o f "citizen” came to prevail. This larger view was rooted in the ideas o f classical authori­ ties like Aristode, who recognized the nobility and gentry as citizens, even preferring them as citizens to the merchants and master craftsmen o f the towns. According to Aristode, citizens with landed wealth possessed the leisure needed to fulfill their public roles.3 The public role o f these neoclassical Renaissance citizens contrasted with the narrow, self-interested, medieval citizenship o f the freemen o f a town, who were concerned prim arily with the preservadon o f their own particular chartered privileges. The nobility and gentry as well as merchants and lawyers were corulers o f the English state— not merely the king’s subjects. It was their duty to promote the general public interest, beyond their personal concerns. This public citizenship role was in many respects no more than new language for old political roles. As subjects o f the king, the nobility and gentry had always been responsible for taking arms to defend the realm and for ruling it, whether they used the new Renaissance language o f citizens or the feudal language o f liege lords and subjects. But until the Renaissance, their preparadon for these responsibilities was the m osdy practical method o f learning by observadon and apprenticeship in great men’s houses. N ot much book-learning was needed to perform with a sword or even to render judgments in county courts, where oral tradidons sustained local customs. Churchmen needed to master Latín, but otherwise literacy was not a crucial requisite for nobles and their vassals.

English Subjects and Citizens It was Renaissance culture and the advent o f printing that produced such works as Baldassare Castiglione’s Book o f the C ourtier and created new ex­ pectations for learning among the English laity in the sixteenth century. M astery o f classical languages— Latin at least— became an emblem o f gen­ tility, culture, civilization. The ruling classes joined learning to m ilitary prowess in defining the new concept o f citizenship as they deliberately and emphatically made themselves the educated classes.4 Alm ost simultaneously, the Protestant Reformation gave a further impetus to the growth o f literacy and learning. Because England was one o f the first Protestant kingdoms, it m ight be assumed that the English church and state were generally committed to pop­ ular as well as elite learning so as to promote Bible reading, piety, and salva­ tion. But the division between elite "citizen” subjects and "mere” subjects remained powerful in Tudor England. The uniform church and autocratic state that H enry V III tried to establish rejected popular engagement in reli­ gious and public discussion and was hostile to all dissent, popular or elite. Faced with a Catholic insurrection, Henry’s 1537 Parliament passed a law for "abolishing diversity in opinions.” * In the following decade, when vari­ ous Protestants posed different challenges to the Henrician establishment, the king signed a statute "for the Advancement o f true Religion and for the Abolishment o f the Contrary.” N ow king and Parliament prohibited the reading o f the Bible in English in every church in the realm. Further, “mere” subjects, including most commoners— according to the law, all artificers, apprentices, journeym en, yeomen, lesser serving men, laborers, husband­ men, and women— were explicidy forbidden to read the New Testament in English, the only language in which they might be literate.6 M aintaining order among the "citizen” subjects who composed England’s ruling elites was the regime’s first challenge, and it would not tolerate any disagreement from its "mere” subjects. In his Rem edyfo r Sedition ([1536]), a government spokesman declared "it is no part o f the people’s play to discuss acts made in parliam ent.” Drawing the line as firm ly as he could, he pro­ nounced: "It far passeth the Cobbler’s craft to discuss, what lords, what bish­ ops, what councilors, what acts and statutes and laws are most meet for a commonwealth, and whose judgement should be best or worst concerning matters o f religion.”7 Such public matters were exclusively the province o f rulers, not ordinary subjects. This was the established political orthodoxy. But if this view had been universally accepted, the ruling elite would not have needed to assert it so vigorously in statutes and declamations. In fact, some commoners were reading the Bible and discussing the tumultuous pol-

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English Subjects and Citizens ¡tics o f Henry’s reign. After H enrys death in 1547, when Lord Somerset gov­ erned under the authority o f young Edward V I, the “Act o f Words” was abol­ ished and pamphlet controversy flourished.8 N ow one anonymous writer articulated a belief that had long been repressed and that pointed to the Anglo-American future. In the D iscourse o f the Com m onweal o f this Realm o f England ([1549]), every man was invited to express his views, not only “ learned men (whose judgments I would wish to be chiefly esteemed) herein, but also merchant men, husbandmen, and artificers.” In the body o f this D iscourse, members o f these groups spoke their minds, in addition to a knight, a physician, and an artisan.9 The radicalism o f this viewpoint is underlined by the contemporary words o f John Cheke, who in The H urt o f Sedition (1549) denounced the idea that “every subject should busily intermeddle with” public matters.10 Still, the terms o f the debate were shifting away from the uniform ity o f H enry V III’s act for “abolishing diversity in opinions.” W hile it was still generally believed that the first responsibility o f ordinary subjects (variously defined) was obedience, not political expression, the idea that a class o f “citizen” sub­ jects should be allowed to voice their ideas, even if they disagreed, was ac­ cepted. In 1548, for example, the preacher and printer Robert Crowley pub­ lished a pamphlet called A n Inform ation an d Petition against the Oppressors o f the Poor Commons o f this Realm , in which he argued that because good gov­ ernment depends on inform ation, men who were literate and learned should speak out publicly. It was all very well, he said, for members o f Parliament and the Privy Council to supply inform ation to the king, but other subjects should do so as well. Some Tudor clergymen even saw themselves as social and moral critics, duty-bound to “speak against the faults o f all degrees w ith­ out exception.”11 The elite o f educated, experienced, and virtuous men rec­ ognized by Plato and Aristode ought to be allowed, even encouraged, to en­ gage in the discussion o f public affairs. Indeed, one authoritative historian maintains that, like Enlightenment theorists two centuries later, the midcen­ tury Tudor pamphlet writers generally believed “in the educability o f men for the duties o f active citizenship, and in the efficacy o f reason.”12 D uring Queen Elizabeths reign, such ideas gained a foothold in England as a clandestine printing trade developed. In polidcs, both civil and reli­ gious, the expectation o f absolute conform ity was modified by a more flex­ ible, pragmatic acceptance o f disagreement. Elizabeth secured civil peace by pursuing a de facto policy o f toleradon toward Catholics and Protestant sec­ tarians. Moreover, in contrast to her older h alf sister, Queen Mary, Elizabeth sought the counsel o f a variety o f learned “citizen” subjects in her Privy

English Subjects and Citizens Council, and she listened carefully to the elite citizens who spoke both in Parliament and outside its chambers. Indeed, one could argue that the antiSpanish policy o f the last twenty years o f Elizabeths reign was influenced powerfully by this elite Protestant opinion. Such royal attention, concilia­ tion, and pragmatism brought a new luster to the monarchy after the ru­ inously divisive reign o f Queen Mary. By the time that the first Stuart, Jam es I, peacefully ascended the throne after Elizabeth’s death in 1603, the idea that the educated, informed, and sometimes conflicting voices o f gendemen, merchants, lawyers, and clergymen should be expressed had been sanctioned by decades o f experience. Although Jam es V I o f Scotland, who became Jam es I o f England, was even more learned than his predecessor Elizabeth, by temperament and ex­ perience he was less inclined to accept discordant voices. Indeed, when in 1604 Jam es told Puritans, after they had requested his assistance at Ham pton C ourt, that they must “conforme” or he would “harrie them out o f the land, or else doe worse,” he set the direction for the Stuart dynasty.13 Com ing to power during an era when monarchs throughout Europe were basing their claims to authority over their subjects on a theory o f absolute and divine royal right, the Stuarts were much more comfortable with dispensing privi­ leges, monopolies, and indulgences to favored subjects than they were with recognizing their subjects’ claims to rights. The ideal o f uniform ity in both the sa te and the church appealed powerfully to seventeenth-century rulers in aesthetic and ideological terms while also serving as a justification for raw political dom inion. In the Europe o f the Reformation and the Counter Reform ation, where religious warfare was protracted, the doctrine that the religion o f the monarch must also be the religion o f his subjects and o f the sa te (“Cujus est regio, illius est religio”) generally prevailed, notwithstand­ ing its enormous cost in blood and misery.14 It was in this unfriendly setting, in which Jam es I him self repeated the motto “N o Bishop, no King,” that Puritans pressed their claims to exercise their particular forms o f religious ex­ pression as part o f a larger effort to reform the Church o f England.15 W ithin the Puritan movement, whose members ranged from Baptists and Brownists to Presbyterians and Quakers, many strands o f religious and po­ litical opinion existed. The largest and, from the perspective o f the Stuart kings, most dangerous group were Puritans who sought not to reject and re­ pudiate the Church o f England but to remodel it by taking over its parishes, its colleges, and its hierarchy. View ing the existing Anglican Church as cor­ rupt but redeemable, these Puritans worked within the system to reform it.

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English Subjects and Citizens Between the coronation o f Jam es I and the advent o f civil war nearly forty years later, they worked incessandy to undermine orthodox churchmen and their teachings. In place o f the established centralized, hierarchical, ceremonial religion that focused on sacramental rituals and prescribed prayers, Puritans devel­ oped a critical stance in which the Bible— interpreted line-by-line in the ser­ mons o f learned divines— became the foundation o f religious observance instead o f the Book o f Common Prayer. Believers, they asserted, must not be docile, form alistic captives o f ritual; they must examine their own behavior rigorously and search their own souls in order to prepare for the gift o f G od’s grace. Although this religious agenda was always most important to Puritans, it was more than coincidental that the informed, Bible-ieading, sermon-going, disputatious, activist laity they encouraged also provided an impetus for the development o f an informed citizenry in secular politics. The secular implications o f Puritanism were so generally understood in court circles that King Jam es remarked that a presbytery “as wel agreeth with a Monarchy, as G od and the D evill.” In the kings view, an informed citi­ zenry meant unruly subjects. I f Puritans gained power, he warned, “then Ja ck & Tom, W ill, & D ick, shall meete, and at their pleasures censure me and m y Councell and all our proceedinges: Then W illshall stand up and say, it must be thus; and D ick shall reply and say nay, m ary [to be sure], but we w ill have it thus.”16 Monarchs had no use for uninvited advice. D uring the reigns o f James I and his son Charles I, criticism o f royal ad­ m inistration mounted inside Parliament and in the manor houses and guild­ halls throughout the country as Puritan reformers found allies among the secular critics o f the regime. Citizen subjects were becoming alienated from Charles I and his archbishop, W illiam Laud, and therefore the urgency o f being informed and being able to inform others mounted. Since 1557 the Stationers’ guild o f London had provided a substantial measure o f censor­ ship through its m onopoly on printing, but illicit and imported imprints circumvented this control. Charles I understood that clandestine publica­ tions were nourishing his opposition, so in 1637 his royal C ourt o f Star Cham ber decreed that all publications must be licensed and registered be­ fore being printed. A ll imported books must also be approved before they could be offered for sale, and all printed matter was required to carry the names o f the author, printer, and publisher. Every printing press in England must now be registered with Crown authorities and a bond o f £300 given as surety that it would only be used to publish officially approved texts.17 In seeking to control the flow o f inform ation and opinion, Charles I’s govern-

English Subjects and Citizens ment reasserted censorship with a vigor and comprehensiveness that had not been seen before in England. N o public call for free speech and press had yet been made, but educated, propertied subjects displayed a growing restive­ ness toward government restraints. M en whose rank and property entided them to extensive rights and privileges were profoundly interested in public policy, both secular and religious, and they were often resentful o f these re­ strictions. For a few years, the Star Cham ber policy and the oudook that supported it held; but once the civil war began, censorship became unenforceable and the dam burst, releasing a flood o f diverse opinions, printed in tracts and broadsides as well as books. The idea o f censorship did not die— it was still widely accepted— but now no agency existed to implement it. Moreover, with the whole idea o f monarchy under siege and the nature o f the king-sub­ ject relationship in flux, the notion o f censorship itself was problematic. N o one could say authoritatively who should act as censor, under what law, and for what purposes. Censorship, after all, was paternalistic, and the locus for such authority was now disputed. It was in this chaotic setting that John M ilton published his tract, A reopagitica: A Speech o f M r. Joh n M ilton fo r the Liberty o f U nlicensed P rin tin g to the Parliam ent o f England, in November

1644.18 This remarkable work, which became a stunning clarion call for liberty o f speech and press to nineteenth- and twentieth-century readers, was an ex­ treme, latter-day statement o f the ideals o f Renaissance humanism regarding the pursuit o f knowledge through human reason. Voicing a passionate English nationalism, M ilton fused his libertarian beliefs with English iden­ tity. T he fourteenth-century English reformer John W yckliffe, not M artin Luther, he asserted, was the real author o f the Protestant Reform ation.19 “O ur English,” M ilton proclaimed, was “the language o f men ever famous and foremost in the achievements o f liberty.”20 England’s capital, London, was also the capital, fortress, and arsenal o f worldwide freedom; it was “a city o f refuge, the mansion-house o f liberty,” where numerous “anvils and ham­ mers . . . to fashion out the plates and instruments o f armed Justice in de­ fense o f beleaguered Truth” were tirelessly at work.21 According to M ilton, the nurturing o f the liberty to use reason freely to seek the truth was England’s ordained mission. It is therefore no wonder that A reopagitica struck hard at Stuart rules re­ quiring the licensing o f publications, using appeals couched in the idioms o f London merchants as well as university faculties. “Truth and understand­ ing,” M ilton declared, “are not such wares as to be monopolized and traded

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English Subjects and Citizens in___ We must not think to make a staple com m odity o f all the knowledge in the land, to mark and license it like our broad-cloth and our woolpacks.” 22 Appealing to the highest aspirations o f merchants, M ilton argued that licensing o f publications “hinders and retards the importation o f our richest merchandise, truth.”23 Restricting the distribution o f books, he maintained, “w ill be prim ely to the discouragement o f all learning, and the stop o f truth, not only by disexercising and blunting our abilities, in what we know already, but by hindering and cropping the discovery that might be yet further made, both in religious and civil wisdom .”24 Licensing shackled the progress o f reason. To those who did not share his principled objections, M ilton pointed out that in actual practice licensing required a multitude o f government inspec­ tors and censors and that even their strenuous efforts could not effectively curb criticism since oral expression could not be regulated. To Puritan moral reformers, M ilton pointed out that “ if we think to regulate printing, thereby to rectify manners, we must regulate all recreations and pastimes,” including music, singing, and dancing.25 Every village, every tavern would need in­ spectors, and even dress would have to be regulated. Such censorship, he ar­ gued, was utterly impractical since no government could “regulate all the mixed conversation o f our youth, male and female together.”26 The very idea o f such broad censorship reeked o f the Italian and Spanish inquisitions. Historically, M ilton pronounced, such policies belonged to “the popes o f Rome, [who] engrossing what they pleased o f political rule into their own hands, extended their dominion over mens eyes, as they had before over their judgments, burning and prohibiting to be read what they fancied not.” 27 The use o f licenses for books was an invention o f their “most tyrannous inquisition.” To seal the connection, M ilton appealed to the most notorious case o f censorship known to learned contemporaries: “I vis­ ited the famous Galileo, grown old, a prisoner to the Inquisition, for thinking in astronomy otherwise than the Franciscan and Dom inican licensers thought.”28 In 1642 the astronomer had died, and i f the censors could have had their way, his ideas would have accompanied him to the grave. Here, ultimately, lay the core o f M ilton’s argument. Censorship, even o f false and worthless ideas, was an obstacle to the use o f reason, which alone should winnow fe a from opinion to establish truth: “The knowledge and survey o f vice is in this world so necessary to the constituting o f human virtue, and the scanning o f error to the confirmation o f tru th ,. . . [that we must read] all manner o f tractates.”29 Controversy, M ilton dared to assert, was a good thing: “ O ur faith and knowledge thrives by exercise.. . . Truth is

English Subjects and Citizens compared in scripture to a streaming fountain; if her waters flow not in a perpetual progression, they sicken into a m uddy pool o f conform ity and tra­ dition.”30 Censorship brought intellectual, cultural, and religious stagna­ tion. Appealing once more to national pride, M ilton entreated the "Lords and Com m ons o f England, [to] consider what nation. . . w hereof ye are the governors: a nation not slow and dull, but o f a quick, ingenious, and pierc­ ing spirit; acute to invent, subtile and sinewy in discourse, not beneath the reach o f any point the highest that human capacity can soar to.”31 M ilton’s voice expressed the cultural confidence o f the society that brought forth Shakespeare and Newton. H is own bold utopianism led him to declare “that Truth is strong, next to the Alm ighty; she needs no policies, no stratagems, nor licensings to make her victorious, those are the shifts that error uses against her power: give her but room, and do not bind her when she sleeps.. . . So Truth be in the fie ld .. . . Let her and Falsehood grapple; who­ ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter?”32 Truth could not suffer from freedom; only falsehood needed the shield o f censor­ ship to p ro tea it from exposure. Such reasoning served as the basis for the development o f a new idea o f an informed citizenry. Since truth would triumph if restraints were removed, it was unnecessary to restrict the publics knowledge, regardless o f rank. In England, M ilton claimed, it was best to include the common people because the English were peculiarly suited to the process o f inquiry and learning. England was, he asserted, "a nation so pliant and so prone to seek after know­ ledge,” its very soil was so “towardly and pregnant,” that it needed only "wise and faithful labourers to make a knowing people, a nation o f prophets, o f sages, and o f worthies.” Let there be co n flia, he said in the midst o f civil war: "W here there is much desire to learn, there o f necessity w ill be much argu­ ing, much w riting, many opinions; for opinion in good men is but knowl­ edge in the m aking.”33 He was certain that most Englishm en, even common ones, were good. To be sure, M iltons argument was aimed prim arily at liberating elite citi­ zen subjects like him self who, he said, were adults and should not be treated like boys at school.34 But by embracing common men as well, M ilton’s the­ ory laid the foundation for a broadened citizenship ideal. Censorship, he in­ sisted, was "a reproach. . . to the common people; for if we [elite subjects] be so jealous over them, as that we do not trust them with an English pam­ phlet, what do we but censure them for a giddy, vicious and ungrounded people.” Such a policy could never be called benevolent paternalism because, after all, "in those popish places where the laity are most hated and despised

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English Subjects and Citizens the same strictness is used over them.”35 M ilton did not argue for the general inclusion o f common men in local and parliamentary politics. But he did believe that they should not be mired in a political ignorance and supersti­ tion that made them indifferent or irresponsible at best, dangerous at worst. Am id the clam or o f com peting voices during the conflict-ridden decade in which A reopagitica appeared, its radical libertarian viewpoint was largely overlooked and without influence.36 Generations would pass before English rulers were ready to abandon censorship, and even then, they would not em­ brace most o f M ilton’s principles. M ilton him self would serve as a censor un­ der O liver Crom well’s regime. But the problem that M ilton addressed in 1644 remained crucial. The circulation o f knowledge and the role o f an in­ formed citizenry could not be ignored entirely. In the 1650s, the monarchist theoretician Thom as Hobbes, who differed from M ilton on most essentials, expounded a rational humanist position when he noted that reason, knowl­ edge, and science were the natural enemies o f ignorance, superstition, and magic.37 Hobbes opposed any scheme to expand the active role o f common people in politics, claim ing that the history o f Greece had shown conclu­ sively “how stupid democracy is and by how much one man is wiser than an assembly.”38 A t the same time, Hobbes was convinced that common people’s ignorance and superstition were inim ical to peace.39 “T he Enem y has been here in the Night o f our naturall Ignorance,” Hobbes lamented, arguing that in order for the common people to ever be able to identify their self-interest accurately and behave reasonably, they must be enlightened.40 In this one re­ spect, at least, Hobbes was echoing M ilton’s assertion in A reopagitica that if common people were kept ignorant, they would be “giddy, vicious and un­ grounded.” Because Hobbes believed eloquence was a false instrument that appealed more to the heart than the head, he argued that making informa­ tion available to common people was a necessary antidote to demagoguery. Hobbes even helped to endow a free school in his native village.41 M ilton and Hobbes were at opposite poles o f the political spectrum in most re­ spects, but both advocated inform ing common people as a precondition for rational politics. Inform ation and enlightenment did not, however, mean empowerment. T heir contemporary Jam es Harrington, among the most influential republi­ can theorists o f his era and o f eighteenth-century America, presented a distincdy elite view o f citizenship that drew on Aristotle and on the model o f the Venetian republic. In Harrington’s analysis, landowners alone were prop­ erly situated to exercise the duties and responsibilities o f citizens. Physicians and lawyers, he claimed, were too narrowly practical and materialistic, and

English Subjects and Citizens clergymen were not suitable for citizenship because, like lawyers, they sought to do for citizens what citizens could do for themselves. To Harrington, in­ dependence o f mind was paramount, and this independence, he believed, belonged to freeholders. Those among the freeholders who cultivated their minds deserved the authority and deference granted to political leadership, and all citizens were responsible for bearing arms to defend the state.42 H arringtons linkage o f citizenship to landownership was appealing to country gendemen; however, his readiness to exclude wealthy merchants, lawyers, and clergymen from political power did not accord with the realities o f public life. The b rief existence o f England’s republican commonwealth, and the reversion to monarchical forms that began under Crom well and was capped by the Restoration o f Charles II in 1660, meant that the whole con­ sideration o f citizenship was again placed in the ruler-subject context. But the same questions remained concerning the roles o f privileged citizen-sub­ jects and the extent to which they and ordinary subjects ought to be in­ formed about public affairs. Moreover, the burst o f republicanism and religious heterodoxy o f the interregnum, together with the temporary col­ lapse o f censorship, could not be forgotten, and the possibilities they had raised persisted in political discourse. As a result, when the government o f Charles II set about rebuilding the structures o f monarchical order, it was ur­ gent that a censorship policy be established. The foundation o f censorship for the next generation would be the Licensing Act o f 1662. The “Act for preventing the frequent Abuses in printing seditious, trea­ sonable, and unlicensed books and Pamphlets, and for regulating o f Printing and printing presses” combined censorship and monopoly provisions. Its first objective was to secure the new monarchy and that bastion o f royal sup­ port, the Church o f England. Thus, just as all secular disloyalty was banned, so too was any publication that was “heretical, seditious, schismatical or offensive. . . to the Christian faith” or to the established church.43 As had the earlier Star Cham ber decrees, the 1662 law provided for official prepubli­ cation scrutiny o f all im prints. O nly members o f the Stationers’ guild were allowed to seek permission to publish, and outside o f London, their print shops were lim ited to the university towns o f O xford and Cam bridge and the northern cathedral town o f York. T he law provided for three kinds o f ap­ proval: “ Published by Authority” meant that the government itself had or­ dered the publication; “Licensed” indicated that the censor had granted written permission; and “W ith Allowance” meant that the censor had con­ veyed oral approval. Once printed, the works could be sold legally only by

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English Subjects and Citizens members o f the Stationers’ Company, a handful o f existing booksellers, and vendors who obtained licenses from bishops o f the church.44 To a substantial degree, the 1662 law made the Stationers’ Com pany a quasigovernment agency with the Crown-appointed censor at its head. In 1663 Roger L’Estrange, who had publicly criticized the Stationers’ Com pany’s failure to control the press and who recommended the appoint­ ment o f a government enforcement officer, was named to precisely this posi­ tion. As Royal Surveyor o f the Imprimery, L’Estrange was charged with censoring printed pictures as well as texts. Then, in addition to his censor­ ship office, the well-connected L’Estrange won an exclusive patent to publish the news. As a result, government influence over printed information was comprehensive. In large measure, to be an informed citizen in the Restora­ tion era meant accepting official censorship.45 T he only legitimate loophole in the censorship net was the circulation o f handcopied, subscription newsletters. Although these forerunners o f the newspaper were expensive and could have only a highly lim ited, elite circu­ lation, they challenged the censorship idea effectively.46 Handwritten news­ letters could be found not only in the homes o f great men but also in coffeehouses (which were themselves licensed), where they provided an al­ ternative to L’Estrange’s monopoly. Even after L’Estrange brought out the London Gazette in 1666, which he operated as a monopoly continuously through 1679, the manuscript alternatives continued. But this was a dangerous time for public dissent. In the year after L’Estrange assumed the office o f Royal Surveyor o f the Imprimery, a printer, John Twyn, was hangpd, drawn, and quartered according to the penalties against treason after being convicted o f printing a call to depose and kill Charles II. L’Estrange him self declared in 1663 that “a public M ercury [news­ paper] . . . makes the m ultitude too fam iliar with the actions and counsels o f their superiors, too pragmatical and censorious, and gives them, not only an itch, but a kind o f colourable right and license to be meddling with the Governm ent.” D uring this reactionary era, champions o f free speech kept their own counsel because printing was widely understood to be a potential threat to political stability. As one Royalist tract asserted in 1664, printing “ [is] so Powerful, when it is cunningly handled, that it is the Peoples D eity.”47 Even John M ilton was ready to deny access to the press to Catholics and atheists. John Locke, the quasirepublican whose Two Treatises on Governm entwould later provide the theoretical justification for the revolt against James II and then George III, could write in 1667 that the suppres­ sion o f some publications was reasonable and legitimate on occasions when

English Subjects and Citizens it was "really necessary for the peace, safety or security” o f the state.48 For the present, a secure monarchy took precedence over an informed citizenry. Even after 1670, when the throne seemed relatively secure, the govern­ ment continued to maintain close supervision o f political discourse. Coffee­ house politics aroused such anxieties that Charles II ordered all coffeehouses to close in 1676. Because his ban proved to be unenforceable, it was quickly lifted. But thereafter, keepers o f coffeehouses were sworn to loyalty and to ban all “scandalous Papers, Books or Libells” from their premises; the fol­ lowing year, nearly two dozen coffeehouses lost their licenses. Britons, and especially Londoners, were restive under royal censorship, and illegal under­ ground publications continued to circulate among a population that was increasingly literate.49 Consequendy, when political differences among government leaders and the Stationers’ Com pany allowed the Licensing Act to lapse in 1679, a resurgence o f libertarian expression brought the idea o f an inform ed citizenry into prominence once more. Two works that immediately expressed the principal secular and religious arguments on behalf o f a free press came from the pens o f Charles Blount, a deist and republican, and W illiam Lawrence, a Dissenting clergyman. Blount s Ju st Vindication o f Learning and the Liberty o f the Press (1679) drew direcdy from Areopagitica, though without acknowledgment. Licensing, Blount claimed, was un-English, and a censored press obstructed learning, offended reason, and insulted the common people. In the end, Blount ar­ gued, it endangered the government. I f there was a threat from Roman Catholicism , then a free press supplied the best defense against it. Acknowl­ edging that some publications were, indeed, illegitim ate, Blount asserted that postpublication prosecutions for treason, seditious libel, and blasphemy were the appropriate remedy— not an alien form o f censorship.50 W illiam Lawrence, publishing soon after Blount, presented a different but complementary emphasis. He argued in 1680 that the press must be less restricted than it had been in order to allow the discovery o f Christian truth. Censorship, he declared, “stops the truth o f all intelligence, which is so in­ valuable a Treasure, and difficult to be got into the Gates o f Princes.” Lawrence was not ready for a total end to censorship; he saw no good reason to tolerate disputes over ceremonial and other nonessential topics because they could so divide Protestants that they would be vulnerable to Catholic incursions. But he argued that the old licensing system was too extreme and fostered both secular ignorance and religious error.51 Such voices as Blount s and Lawrence s were probably more indicative o f ideas that were in circulation than they were influential, although Blount s

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English Subjects and Citixem tract was republished fifteen years later under another tide. O f for greater di­ rect impact was the House o f Com m ons’ publication for the first time o f its proceedings in 1680. According to a leading scholarly authority, it was the appearance o f the Votes o f the House o f Commons—which sold thousands o f copies weekly— that most influenced the formation o f public opinion. Indeed, with between 30 and 45 percent o f all Englishmen and nearly 80 per­ cent o f London men literate, the regular printing o f the Votes combined with expanding newspaper and almanac publication to intensify the publics polit­ ical engagement in the 1680s and beyond. The three-and-a-half-year hiatus in the licensing law (1679-82) had even led to the publication o f two Dissenting and one Catholic newspaper in addition to several political papers.5* One o f the newspapers, Langley C urtiss Weekly Paquet o f London, echoed Blounts argument that inform ation was necessary to combat the spread o f Catholicism . “You have need o f knowledge,” Curtis proclaimed, “because your Enem y is subde to deceive.” Looking to broaden the ranks o f those who must be informed, he argued that newspapers were essential be­ cause they were inexpensive and brief, and therefore their contents “more easily fall into the hands and hearts o f the middle or meaner Rank; who hav­ ing not time nor C oin to Buy or peruse chargeable, tedious, and various Books,” would otherwise remain dangerously ignorant.53 Evidently, a grow­ ing range o f H is M ajesty’s subjects were developing an appetite for public discussion. Governm ent authorities fumed over the unexpected emergence o f this comparatively free discussion and prom pdy tried to stop it. The Weekly Paquet, for example, was suppressed, and Langley Curtis was punished for violating the law o f seditious libel.54 New regulations were devised to lim it printers and “hawkers” o f books, and the kings courts ruled that the Crown could prohibit the publication o f all unlicensed “ News Bookes [small-for­ mat newspapers] & Pamphletts o f News whatsoever.”55 Acting on this judg­ ment, the Privy Council banned all unlicensed newsbooks, and authorities used general search warrants in their efforts to prosecute violators for sedi­ tion. W hen Parliament returned to session in 1682, it reenacted the lapsed li­ censing law; before the year was out, all newspapers were banned except for two that were published “ By Authority” (one belonging to L’Estrange). The clim ax o f this reaction to the licensing hiatus came in the following year when Charles II staged a public conflagration o f seditious books during a visit to O xford.56 By this time, even the monarchy recognized and accepted the need for an informed citizenry, but it wanted to be absolutely certain that its subjects

English Subjects and Citizens were properly informed. Seeking to control public opinion, court-approved newspapers published frequendy— indeed, L’Estrange’s Observator appeared three or four times each week. Following the exposure o f a supposed W hig coup conspiracy (the “ Rye House Plot”), the royal court even aimed some o f its propaganda at common people by publishing lurid attacks on the subver­ sive plotters.*7 For reasons o f practical politics and without a shred o f theo­ retical justification on the royal side, the need to “inform” the general public, if only in a prim itive way, including people o f small means, became an ac­ cepted fact o f English politics. A fter Jam es II came to the throne in 1685, the instability o f the monarchy brought the intertwined issues o f free speech and press, religious freedom, and an inform ed citizenry to the center o f yet another crisis between England’s king and subjects. The resolution o f this crisis in the Glorious Revolution and the subsequent political and religious setdement would lay the foundation for the liberty England would come to represent in the eigh­ teenth century. The achievement o f this outcome, however, could not have been predicted. It resulted from a difficult and protracted process wherein ideology and practical politics interacted dynamically, often in discordant ways. The immediate catalyst for the crisis was Jam es U s assertive Catholicism in public affairs. H is accession was peaceful enough, and the new and en- ' hanced Licensing Act that Parliament passed in 1685 was given a seven-year term. H ad Jam es II sim ply pursued his brother’s repressive policies, he might have enjoyed a long, if not tranquil, reign. But the new king soon challenged one o f the monarchy’s fundamental supports, the Anglican Church, by seek­ ing to promote Catholic books and by appointing Catholics as official printer to the king and as head o f the printing house in O xford, the center o f the Anglican intelligentsia. N ot content with these provocative moves, in 1687 he had his own propaganda distributed in coffeehouses and other pub­ lic houses, and in 1688 he staged a public book-burning in the capital o f the book trade, London.*8 Yet it was Jam es I ls Catholicism , not offenses against free expression or an inform ed citizenry, that was crucial in bringing about his ouster. W hen the W hig opposition brought W illiam o f Orange to England, the insurgents carried the banner o f Protestant liberty against a Catholic ruler. T he conflict between Anglicans and Catholics was over control o f public opinion, not over the liberation o f it. Just as Jam es II had spread his propaganda among English subjects, so the friends o f W illiam o f Orange distributed thousands

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English Subjects and Citizens o f copies o f their champion’s biography and thousands more o f the Declara­ tion o f H is Highness WilUam Henry, Prince o f Orange, asserting his commit­ ment to a free Parliament and to ending the outrages o f James’s rule. A long with muskets and artillery pieces, W illiam ’s forces were armed with a print­ ing press.59 For a time in 1688-89, some form o f free speech was triumphant, just as it had been forty years earlier during the civil war. Licensing was in abeyance, and more than h alf a dozen newspapers quickly appeared. But these newspa­ pers were short-lived, and o f the roughly 2,000 tracts printed during these months, only one called for repeal o f the Licensing Act. N o one chose to reprint either M ilton’s Areopagitica or Blount’s Ju st Vindication o f Learning and the Liberty o f the Press.60 The monopolistic practices o f the Stationers’ Com pany were criticized. Hobbes had called it “a great hindrance to the ad­ vancement o f learning,” and Locke argued that the printing m onopoly raised the price o f scholarly books and reduced their quality. But freedom o f political and religious expression was not an issue.61 W hen the revolution settlement was completed and the new rulers o f England adopted a Bill o f Rights, free speech and press were omitted from the list. M ost striking o f all, the new king and Parliament enacted a new li­ censing law in 1692 that was essentially the same as the statutes o f the Restoration era. The most obvious lesson o f two generations o f political in­ stability and conflict was that it was dangerous to leave the information available to the citizenry unsupervised. Public opinion was essential to main­ taining authority, but left to itself, it was unreliable. In 1694, six years after Jam es II had gone into exile, the publication o f a Jacobite tract was sufficient to obtain the execution o f its printer under the law o f treason.62 This was a world in which words were understood to undermine the fragile legitim acy o f the state. But the Glorious Revolution had also led to the realization that it was im­ possible to achieve uniform ity o f opinion in religion and politics and that it was destructive even to pursue complete conformity. Freedom o f expression in speech and the press as well as freedom o f religion were not the guiding principles or notable achievements o f the Revolution, but the events o f these tumultuous years did lead to a new readiness to accept differences among Britons as a fact o f life. Members o f an informed citizenry, even a restricted, elite citizenry, would not all think alike, but they need not be at each other’s throats. The 1688 Act o f Toleration, which was at the core o f the revolution settlement, symbolized this preference for peaceful expedients over bellicose prin-

English Subjects and Citizens ripies. It provided a kind o f “code o f indulgences” toward all sorts o f non­ conformists whereby the old, coercive penalties that had been directed against them were erased, although such disabilities as exclusion from Parlia­ ment and the universities were maintained. Now the .5 percent o f English­ men who were Catholics would not be actively persecuted. The 4 percent who were Presbyterians, Baptists, Quakers, and other sects would be free to worship and preach as they wished without suffering legal interference. In effect, the rulers o f the 95 percent o f Englishmen who conformed agreed to disagree with the remainder.63 Ultim ately it was this same kind o f pragmatism that would undermine government censorship o f the press. N ot Areopagitica but a multitude o f selfinterested complaints, from printers and booksellers as well as authors and bishops, concerning the aggravations, inequities, and corruption o f licensing blocked the renewal o f the law in 169$. A memorandum prepared at the time for Parliament by John Locke listed some o f the reasons the House o f Com m ons would not accept the new Licensing Act the House o f Lords had passed. Preserving the Stationers* Com pany printing monopoly was dam­ aging to private and public interests. Allowing officials to search anyone’s house for contraband books was a violation o f privacy that could lead to a multitude o f abuses. The criteria for licensing were too vague and foiled to establish in any useful way the boundary between texts that were and those that were not “offensive.” As a result, the proposed law m ight be even less serviceable than its antecedents. N o one in Parliament attacked licensing in principle, but from bishops to book traders, there was no consensus as to what the law should include.64 Thus, in 1695, without fanfare, England’s monopolistic censorship system finally lapsed, never to be restored. From time to time, proposals to resurrect it were made, but the problem o f reconciling conflicting interests remained intractable. Indeed, with every passing year, the task o f censorship through licensing became more difficult logistically because o f the proliferation o f books and newspapers and the extensive trade in printed texts and images. Locke had pointed out in his 1695 parliamentary memorandum that post­ publication “censorship” via common law prosecutions for seditious libel and blasphemy was a wiser strategy, and as time passed, this came to be re­ garded as a more practical and equitable way to address the problem o f dan­ gerous publications.65 The ideology o f free speech was probably more influential than parlia­ mentary discussion suggests. In the debates o f the Houses o f Lords and Com m ons, arguments o f interest and practicability were heard more often

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English Subjects and Citizens than innovative flights o f theory. But an altered version o f Blount’s Ju st Vindication ofLearning an d the Liberty o f the Press did reappear in 1693-94, and in 1698 M atthew Tindall, a Socinian, published A Discourse fo r the Liberty o f the Press in which he, too, called on M iltonic principles. A free press, he said, was one o f Protestantism’s gifts to the world, and where free­ dom o f the press was absent, ignorance, superstition, and bigotry flourished. Echoing M ilton, he asserted that licensing was the method o f the "Rom ish Inquisition,” whereas the discovery and preservation o f religious truth re­ quired the liberty o f the press. In a House o f Lords where Anglican bishops expressed the dominant voice on the subject, such arguments could only be viewed as subversive; while in the House o f Com m ons, where puritanized moral reformers opposed cursing, profaneness, and debauchery, the distinc­ tion between liberty and libertinism could be hard to draw.66 But the old barriers restraining free speech ideology had been broken. The government could not prosecute a statement o f the principle o f free ex­ pression as blasphemy, seditious libel, or treason. Licensing had been restric­ tive, arbitrary, and partisan. Now the licensing bottleneck was gone, and the new self-censorship practiced by authors and printers who sought to avoid common law prosecutions was flexible, pluralistic, and responsive to public taste and opinion. Henceforth the market for printed inform ation would be more open and many-sided than ever before. Partly for that reason, but also because the Glorious Revolution increased the power o f Parliament and the importance o f public opinion, the meaning o f being an informed citizen became a renewed subject o f interest and con­ cern. Until now, the education o f princes had been o f prim ary public impor­ tance because it was their knowledge and inform ation that was crucial. Theoretically, the inform ation that citizens possessed had been valued chiefly as an adjunct to assist the monarch in defending his subjects and rul­ ing over them. But the new constitution o f the English government vested so much power in elite citizens via their institution o f Parliament that now it was their knowledge that mattered most. As far as the state was concerned, it was no longer the education o f princes but the education o f gentlemen sub­ jects— citizens— that was paramount. In 1693, in the immediate aftermath o f the new political setdement, two works appeared that focused directly on the formation o f properly informed citizens in England’s new situation. One, Robert Molesworth’s Account o f D enm ark as it was in 1692, was written with a powerful anti-Catholic bias and later became an influential tact for Radical W higs. The other, Some

English Subjects and Citizens Thoughts Concerning Education by John Locke, was widely read and shaped British ideas about citizenship and education for generations. In both works, the public dimension o f education— the necessity o f creating and m olding an informed citizenry— was a central theme. Like many libertarian authors who had preceded him , M olesworth casti­ gated Rom an Catholic tyranny while fusing Protestantism and freedom. His starting point was an attack on the Jesuit schools that were frequently viewed as desirable models. In these schools, “the Queen o f all Virtues,” he said, was “ Submission to Superiors, and an entire blind Obedience to Authority.” The inculcation o f those “passive Doctrines” meant that “the Spirits o f Men are from the beginning inured to Subjection, and deprived o f the right Notion o f a generous and legal Freedom.” So powerful was the effect o f this preparation for tyranny that “most have the M isfortune to carry these slavish Opinions with them to their Graves.” Indeed, those who were raised in this monstrous system o f bondage "not only endure it, but approve o f it likewise.”67 Jesuit schools were merely an extreme example o f the general threat posed by clerical control o f education. In England, as in Greece and Rome, Molesworth argued, “ Philosophers instead o f Priests* should educate the youth because they understood that their purpose was to train their charges for "Exercise and Labour, to accustom them to an active Life.” The acade­ mies o f classical times were not based on the values o f obedience and sub­ mission; "they recommended above all things the D uty to their Country, the Preservation o f the Laws and the publick Liberty.” The virtues they taught served the public good: "Fortitude, Temperance, Justice, a Contem pt o f D eath.” The whole purpose o f this approach was to create citizens who would be “as useful to the society they lived in as possible.”68 In practical terms, this meant that schools should not be run by the church, whether Catholic or Anglican. Churches had interests that were sep­ arate from the public interest, and they would advance their own fortunes at the expense o f the public good. Church schools also committed too much o f their students’ time to mastering classical languages and learning the elegant forms o f Latin and Greek. "Iw as not to learn Foreign Languages that the Grecian and Roman Youths went for so long” to their academies or to learn all the "dark Terms and Subtilties o f the Schools,” Molesworth declared.69 It was the substance o f classical history, culture, and political values that was essential, not the languages in which they were expressed. "To learn how and when to speak pertinendy, how to act like a M an, to subdue the Passions, to be publick-spirited, to despise Death, Torments, and Reproach, Riches, and the Smiles o f Princes as well as their Frowns”— all o f these were the proper

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English Subjects and Citizens goals for the training o f citizens.70 Molesworth repudiated education by churchmen, who, he said, taught the doctrines o f passive obedience and the divine right o f kings. He advocated the sturdy, outspoken virtues o f citizens, not the elegance or refinement o f courtiers. M olesworths ideological reading o f the ancient classics was open to criti­ cism. One friend o f King W illiam s government pointed out that Moles­ worths knowledge o f Greek and Roman education and politics was faulty and naive. Even such a widely read author as Cicero had drawn attention to the actual “ Licentiousness and Avarice o f the Roman Generals.”71 But for Molesworth and his readers, the actual historical record was not the im­ portant thing. W hat mattered was contemporary public affairs and the future well-being o f a sa te in which authority was vested in newly powerful citizens. John Locke’s approach to the problem was neither partisan nor polemical. Indeed, in Some Thoughts Concerning Education, Locke seemed to embody the classical educator-philosopher that Molesworth had idealized. A t the same time, Locke joined in Molesworth’s advocacy o f a fundamentally secu­ lar education and also rejected the Jesuit pedagogy that was based on the competitive environment o f the school. Instead, the individualistic Locke stressed the importance o f private, tutorial education in which qualities o f temperament, carriage, and character would be instilled in children. Instruction in particular subjects was im portant, but it was personal quali­ ties to which Locke assigned the highest priority. The audience Locke addressed was, he said, “our English Gentry,” and his aims were political in the highest and broadest sense.72 Firm ly assigning re­ sponsibility for education to parents, not the church or the sa te , Locke as­ serted that “the Welfare and Prosperity o f the N ation . . . depends on it.”73 Parental supervision o f education was “the easiest, shortest, and likeliest [way] to produce vertuous, useful, and able Men in their distinct C allings.”74 But Locke was not immediately concerned with the education o f people o f various callings; he concentrated on “the Gendeman’s Calling. For i f those o f that Rank are by their Education once set right, they w ill quickly bring all the rest into Order.”73 For the good o f English society, Locke was convinced, the education o f the gentry was crucial. Lockes understanding o f the gendemans calling shaped his pedagogical ideas. The gendeman was not a decorative courtier but a citizen who re­ quired “the knowledge o f a M an o f Business, a carriage suirable to his Rank, and to be Em inent and Useful to his C ountry according to his Station.”76 Although book-learning was necessary, effective training for the gendeman’s

English Subjects and Citizens calling relied heavily on the personal supervision and example that only a fa­ ther and a tutor, or “governour,” could supply. Consequendy, the personal qualities o f the tutor were critical. He must be more than just a sober scholar; he must him self be well-bred and civil and possess a sure grasp o f carriage and manners— “an A rt not to be learnt, nor au gh t by Books” but instead learned through “good Company, and Observation joyn’d to­ gether.”77 Locke did not expect a school to teach piety or academic excel­ lence through emulation. “To judge right o f M an, and manage his Affairs wisely with them,” Locke maintained, was more important than knowing Greek and Latin or philosophy and metaphysics. Able men, he noted, could be found in Asia, in the absence o f Western learning.78 T he foundation o f Lockes emphasis on breeding was practical and direcdy related to the gendeman’s role in public affairs. A young man’s breed­ ing, he maintained, “w ill more open his way to him , get him more Friends, and carry him farther in the W orld, than all the hard Words, or real Knowl­ edge he has got from the Liberal A rts.”79 T he dudes o f gendemen demanded personal skills and mental qualities that would make their learning service­ able. W hile responsibility for this kind o f preparadon belonged to the hither, it was the task o f the tutor “to fashion the Carriage, and form the M in d . . . t o . . . good Habits and the Principles o f Vertue and W isdom; to give him . . . a view o f M ankind; a n d . . . a love and im iution o f W hat is Excellent and Praise-worthy; and to give him Vigour, Activity, and Indus­ try.” T he particular subjects o f the boys instruction— and like Molesworth, Locke had distinct priorides— were to furnish “the Exercises o f his Faculties, and Imployment o f his Tim e,” not to form his chaacter.80 Locke prescribed a moral rather than a pious educadon. W hen it came to the actual subjects o f instruction, Locke was a modern humanist. The young gentleman should be acquainted with French and Latin, arithm etic and geometry, geography and chronology, history and law, and rhetoric and logic. Greek was suirable only for mature students who possessed a special aptitude and indination for it. Dancing and proficiency at a manual craft such as printing, cabinetmaking, smithing, or gardening were optim al. M usic he viewed as the least im portant o f a gendeman’s activ­ ities. Fencing and riding the “ Great Horse” were often recommended as gen­ teel pursuits, but Locke bdieved they were a waste o f time more suirable for the palace grounds than the council chamber or the sessions o f a quarterly court o f justices o f the peace. To engage in public affairs, the gendeman must be skilled in writing and speaking, not swordplay, jousting, or m ilitary parades.81

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English Subjects and Citizens T he conventional capstone o f a gentleman’s education, foreign travel, was also prescribed by Locke, but his viewpoint on travel was disdnctive. Tim ­ ing, he thought, was all-important. A youth under the age o f fourteen years should travel accompanied by his tutor, and a young man over twenty-one years should travel on his own. In either case, the purpose was not to polish a provincial lad by introducing him to cosmopolitan fashion but to deepen the young man’s understanding. Travel, Locke believed, should “open his Eyes, make him cautious and wary, and accustom him to look beyond the outside.”81 A certain skepticism and relativism, a greater understanding o f human nature should be the objective, not becoming au courant with the latest styles in dress or manners. Locke’s intentions were consistent throughout. A gendeman should be educated to fulfill actively, and with integrity and wisdom, his private and public responsibilities. That he should be an informed citizen was one o f Locke’s basic assumptions. An ignorant man, however well-bred, could not manage his private concerns to advantage and was certainly incapable o f contributing to public affairs. These were a citizen’s fundamental dudes, on which the welfare o f the kingdom depended. The fact that Locke ignored ordinary common people in Some Thoughts Concerning Education, confident that a properly functioning gentry would ensure the welfare o f the kingdom, reveals the boundaries o f seventeenthcentury English republicanism. Like Harrington, Locke wished to broaden the base o f England’s government and to make it more inclusive. But this was in the context o f a general European debate over royal absoludsm, a sys­ tem wherein the king assumed what critics believed were exaggerated powers that exposed the realm to idiosyncratic and arbitrary abuses. Such a narrowly based, britde, unbalanced monarchical system was dangerous, they believed, for a whole array o f structural reasons. To achieve the security o f wise gover­ nance, polidcal authority must rest on the representation o f the full range o f England’s propertied ranks. Court, city, and country must join together in defining and exercising the tasks o f government. Practically speaking, the revolution setdement relied on the establishment o f an expanded, indeed, a central, role for the gentry. Thus, the preparation o f gentlemen for their public roles as citizens was more critical than ever be­ fore. That preparation, both Locke and Harrington agreed, began with pri­ vate, individual security. The foundation o f that security was the gentry’s landownership. In addition, however, personal security rested on personal development under parental supervision. In contrast to classical models, the English citizen was a private person first, whose private virtues undergirded

English Subjects and Citizens and sustained his public virtues. But as vital as the citizen’s private experience was, he must also transcend his personal, private, and parochial conscious­ ness. This was the central purpose o f studying classical literature, geography, and history and o f traveling. Knowledge o f unfam iliar times and places and o f people outside the circle o f private experience created the kind o f enlarged perspective that public business demanded. Although the gentleman was emphatically not raised only to serve the public, serving the public was one o f his central duties. The gentleman, together with the king and the nobility, must guide, administer, and defend the commonwealth or the realm. The definition o f who was and who was not a gentleman was elastic, and the lower boundary was porous. M arriage into the gentry was not unusual for the offspring o f prosperous merchants, professionals, and landowning farmers; indeed, almost anyone with sufficient means could, if he chose, adopt the manners and achieve the status o f a gendeman. According to British theory, these were the men who were encompassed by the idea o f an informed citizenry. D uring the two centuries stretching from the accession o f the Tudor monarchs to the demise o f the Stuarts and the emergence o f the revolution settle­ ment in the 1690s, the people o f England and Wales were both subjects and citizens. Everyone, except for the monarch, was a subject— man, woman, and child. But some subjects, privileged by wealth, birth, and gender, were also citizens, that is, subjects who possessed rights and responsibilities that were recognized publicly. O ver these two centuries, fitfully, political conflicts expanded and reshaped the citizenship role for subjects. As this expansion and reconfiguration o f citizenship developed, the idea that citizens must be educated and informed became embedded in English Renaissance and baroque culture. Indeed, the irresistible appeal o f Renaissance and baroque neoclassicism made the ideal o f an informed citizenry pervasive in Europe as well as in England, regardless o f the histories o f various monarchies. French gendemen under Louis X IV and Spanish, Germ an, and Italian gendemen under their several princes were also committed to being educated and informed as part o f their public roles. In England, however, political history had shaped the idea o f an informed citizen in three crucial areas: religious tolerance, the free press, and the boundaries o f inclusion within the citizenry. As a result, the cultural im plicadons o f the idea were more extensive in England than in other countries. Religious toleration, for example, permitted a freedom and breadth o f inquiry that was generally forbidden elsewhere. As a result, clerical and lay

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English Subjects and Citizens investigations o f philosophy and theology, and o f approaches to piety and religious devotions, promoted the idea that John M ilton had asserted in the 1640s— that competition for the minds o f English subjects would allow truth to vanquish error. Moreover, the fact that the established church in England was not the only legal, legitimate church meant that being in­ formed about religion had a wide variety o f meanings. Furthermore, even the most inveterate Anglican country gentleman had to recognize that in London, and perhaps even in his own county and parish, other notions than his own were circulating. Religious toleration lim ited the intensity o f parochialism. Religious toleration also broadened the impact o f the de facto free press policy that emerged after 1695. The fact that England had no licensing laws and no government agency to enforce any form o f religious or secular ortho­ doxy increased the possibilities o f being informed to an extraordinary de­ gree. O nly in Holland, perhaps, did gendemen enjoy comparable access to all sorts o f printed inform ation. This is not to say that gendemen in England were more informed than elsewhere, though that may have been true judg­ ing from Englands extensive book trade and the rapid expansion o f London and provincial newspapers.83 W hat may have been even more significant is the fact that the idea o f being an informed citizen flourished in a cultural en­ vironm ent where gendemen were not only free to engage in all sorts o f con­ troversies but were politically empowered as well. Under these condidons, there was a salience to being informed that went beyond cultural style. For gendemen, being an informed citizen was a prescription that was reinforced by the actual business o f being a voter, a justice o f the peace, and a vestryman as well as a frequenter o f clubs and coffeehouses. Although as a matter o f fact country gendemen might be more thoroughly informed about dogs, horses, and the hunt than more elevated public issues o f church and state, they in­ habited a society where they dared not boast o f their ignorance in political or natural history and science. The fact that access to gentry status was not firm ly closed and allowed for some entry from below further enhanced the influence o f the model o f the informed citizen. N ot only gendemen must be informed but also all those who aspired to m ix in the circles o f the gentry. As a result, the powerful process o f social emulation extended the prescription o f being informed out­ ward from the aristocracy and professional gendemen to common people in various stations. The desire for entertainment as well as the aspiration to be culturally informed fed the demand that sustained growing numbers o f newspapers and booksellers. In England as elsewhere, the baroque ideal o f

English Subjects and Citizens an informed citizen was intrinsically elitist— civic education was decidedly for the few. But its influence and its appeal were broader. In the 1690s, however, all o f these implications were not yet clear. T he rev­ olution settlement was new and untested and its long-term consequences re­ mained unknown. High churchmen wanted to reinstate orthodoxy as much as possible, and Tories and W higs could not agree on the distribution o f power between the royal administration, the Parliament, and the courts. A neoclassical meaning o f an informed citizenry had been articulated and widely embraced by the nobility and gentry. But the ramifications o f the idea for English society and politics had scarcely been addressed. In the genera­ tions to come, British intellectuals and public figures would elaborate on the meanings that m ight be attached to the idea o f an informed citizenry and so reveal what a protean concept it was.

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C h apter z „ Freedom and Citizenship in Britain and Its American Colonies The Glorious Revolution and the constitutional monarchy that took shape in its immediate aftermath, which sustained provisions for religious toleration and especially freedom o f the press, marked a decisive watershed in AngloAmerican political history. Contemporaries recognized that momentous changes were occurring, but the consequences o f the new order would not be clear for some time; indeed, the terms o f the new political settlement were yet to be elaborated and established in Britain. Continuing public debates over a variety o f constitutional issues, such as toleration, free speech, and the proper definition and role o f British citizens, meant that no single, fixed Glorious Revolution settlement was brought to Am erica but rather an array o f dynamic issues for the colonists to assimilate and adapt to their own circumstances. Two realities affected that assimilation powerfully. First, the fact that the Anglican establishment was comparatively weak and rudimentary in the colonies whereas various dissenting groups were more numerous and power­ ful gave a different character to religious toleration, pushing it in the direc­ tion o f full religious freedom. Second, the British aristocracy and great gentry were not powerful, everyday presences in the colonies, so the princi­ pal agents for the importation and assimilation o f British culture were usu­ ally merchants, lesser gentry, and a variety o f clergymen. As a result, the colonies strayed from the English mainstream in their adjustment to the Glorious Revolution and its aftermath. Situated at the periphery o f political, religious, and cultural authority, colonists often embraced an outsiders in­ terpretation o f politics and the constitution, one that was tinged with the as­ sumptions o f Radical W higs and parliamentary backbenchers.1 In contrast to the metropolitan British, who viewed the idea o f an informed citizenry as bound up with the independent gentleman o f H arringtons and Lockes writings, colonists developed a more expansive notion o f simple freeholder or taxpayer citizenship. In the Carolinas and the Chesapeake and northward to the Massachusetts Bay province, actual political participation was more 26

broadly based than in the British Isles.

Freedom and Citizenship The most important feature o f the Glorious Revolution, the establishment o f a lim ited, constitutional monarchy, was accepted easily and often eagerly in the colonies, where the Stuarts and Roman Catholicism had few friends. Religious toleration, too, was incorporated sw iftly into colonial practices. In Pennsylvania and Rhode Island, true religious freedom was established before 1688, and in the Massachusetts Bay province, acceptance o f toleration was a condition for securing the new charter in 1692. Elsewhere, as in New York, Pennsylvania, Virginia, and the Carolinas, recruiting more white settlers was usually a paramount concern, and the policy o f toleration helped to persuade British Presbyterians, Quakers, and Baptists— as well as Germ an sectarians— to cross the Adantic. Here political pragmatism and economic interests sup­ ported Enlightenm ent doctrine to assure religious toleration in the colonies. But in both Britain and its colonies, acceptance o f a free press was more problematic. Massachusetts was the only colony where a press had long oper­ ated, but its printing establishment was government sponsored and super­ vised. The idea o f censorship had always been respected and practiced. Since Parliament enacted yet another licensing law the year after Massachusetts’s new charter was issued, a free press was clearly not part o f the revolution setdement. As for back as 1650, six years after M iltons heroic call for liberty o f the press, Boston authorities had ordered the burning o f a tract published in England by W illiam Pynchon, the leader o f the Springfield, Massachusetts, setdement, because they pronounced it erroneous and heredcal. Later, in 1669, the same colonial magistrates suppressed the printing o f the Chris­ tian devotional classic by Thom as à Kem pis, The Im itation o f Christ. W hen Bostons first newspaper was printed in 1690, the authorities suppressed it im­ mediately for political reasons. It would not be undl 1712 that Boston saw its last officially sanctioned book-burning, when officials consigned a satirical m ock sermon to the flames.2 The consistent zeal that activated Puritan authorities was not evident in the other colonies, but the belief in censorship was widespread. Governor W illiam Berkeley o f V irginia testified in 1671: “ I thank G od, there are nofiv e schools nor printing\ and I hope we shall not have these hundred years; for leam inghas brought disobedience, and heresy, and sects into the world, and prin tin g has divulged them, and libels against the best government.” Since learning and printing were threats to order, he swore, “G od keep us from both!”3 Berkeley did not need to practice censorship direcdy in Virginia since, like most o f the colonies in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, it had no press. Nonetheless, it was the standard practice o f the Crown between the 1680s and the 1720s to instruct its governors to censor

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Freedom and Citizenship the press in the traditional way by requiring the prior approval and licensing o f all publications.4 To many political and religious leaders in Britain itself, the legitim acy o f censorship still took precedence over any belief in an informed citizenry. Between 1695 and 1713, no fewer than eight bills were introduced in Parlia­ ment to control the press; they failed not on ideological grounds but chiefly because o f the opposition o f vested interests in the printing and book trades together with the practical obstacles posed by the existence o f a multitude o f presses scattered throughout Britain and the ease with which printed goods could be imported across the Channel.5 Significandy, in 1712 when Parliament passed a law placing a stamp duty on all types o f newspapers and requiring the registration and taxation o f all pamphlets by the government, it was viewed as a revenue measure, not as a restraint on a flee press or an obstacle to the realization o f an informed citizenry.6 The lim ited under­ standing o f free speech among Britain’s rulers is illustrated by the fact that the Glorious Revolution’s famous Bill o f Rights only guaranteed freedom o f speech in Parliament— not outside o f it— and even so, a member was imprisoned in 1717 for making remarks critical o f the king in the House o f Com m ons.7 W hat went on in Parliament itself was initially considered secret, privileged inform ation, and newspaper coverage o f parliamentary proceedings remained substantially restricted throughout most o f the eighteenth century. It was only after the American Revolution, in 1783, that journalists began to be routinely admitted to the galleries to record openly the speeches and votes o f members. Acceptance o f the concept o f public inform ation and knowledge increased gradually over the course o f the century.8 Libertarian voices, however, were raised frequently against censorship and were sustained by growing constituencies o f literary consumers, dissenters, and gentlemen o f learning. Daniel Defoe complained that government reg­ ulation o f the press was “a pernicious remedy’’ for its admitted “licentious­ ness,” and he likened its effects on English liberty to “cutting o ff the Leg to cure the G out in the Toe.”9 Across the ocean in Boston, where censorship collapsed in the 1720s, the sixteen-year-old Benjam in Franklin extracted the core o f libertarian ideology from the London Jo u rn al and inserted it into one o f his own 1722 newspaper essays: W ithout Freedom ofThought, there can be no such T hing as W isdom; and no such thing as publick Liberty, without Freedom o f Speech; which is the Right o f every M an, as far as by it, he does not hurt or controul the

Freedom and Citizenship Right o f another: And this is the only Check it ought to suffer, and the only Bounds it ought to know. This sacred Privilege is so essential to free Governments, that the Security o f Property, and the Freedom o f Speech always go together; and in those wretched Countries where a M an cannot call his Tongue his own, he can scarce call any T hing else his own. W hoever would overthrow the Liberty o f a Nation, must begin by subduing the Freeness o f Speech.10 Such assertions, characteristic o f the Radical W hig writers John Trenchard and Thom as Gordon, cropped up repeatedly in English newspapers and magazines, and American colonists offen embraced them. In New York City, a few years after Franklins essay was published, the University o f Edinburgheducated Scots immigrant Cadwallader Colden penned sim ilar views in a tract on taxation. “ It is one o f the best signs o f Liberty,” he said, “when any o f the subjects may freely write & speak their Thoughts concerning affairs in which the good o f Society is concern’d.” Colden, who was a member o f the ruling Governors Council and later became the lieutenant governor o f the colony, defended free speech on precisely the same grounds sixteenth-cen­ tury Englishmen had used to advocate an informed citizenry: “The public likewise receives Benefite from peoples discovering their different Senti­ ments; for by that means our Superiours may more easily foresee the inconveniencies which may attend any Project or D esign.”11 That an enlightened royal official such as Colden, who was also one o f the colonies’ leading nat­ ural scientists, should express such views was a measure o f the degree to which the new political doctrines were becoming established in America. W hen American colonists adopted the ideology o f free speech, they under­ stood and accepted its lim itations while celebrating its liberating possibilities. In an essay inspired by models in the Spectator, the young New Yorker W illiam Smith acknowledged that licentious publications must be suppressed — even at the expense o f free speech. "T h e Press,” he argued, should "have all that Liberty which is due to it, and never be checked, but where its being unre­ stricted w ill prove an Evil.”12 By "unrestricted,” however, Sm ith meant by libel and blasphemy laws, not by prior censorship. This kind o f freedom o f speech and press, he exclaimed, would make it possible for "Liberty and Science. . . [to] spread their W ings, and take the most unbounded Flights.” Government would be held accountable for its actions, public fraud would be diminished, and the forces o f tyranny and vice would be restrained.13 A t the same time, the benefits flowing from scientific inquiry would be protected. As Franklin put it in his popular Poor Richard’s Alm anack in 1757:

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Freedom and Citizenship W hile fice (rom Force the Press remains, Virtue and Freedom chear our Plains, And Learning Largesses bestows.. . . This Nurse o f Arts, and Freedom’s Fence, To chain, is Treason against Sense.14 By the 1750s, England’s free press was characterized as one o f the unique benefits o f the Glorious Revolution settlement by leading scholars o f law and political theory in Britain and on the Continent. As the Genevan philosophe Jean Louis DeLolm e later explained, "Liberty o f the press, that great advan­ tage o f the English nation, does not exist in any o f the other monarchies o f Europe.” Through this liberty, “the people” were sufficiendy informed to make them capable "o f influencing the motions o f the government. ”I$

DeLolm e s language, which referred to the political power o f "the people” and described England as "more democratical” than any other state, even Switzerland and the Netherlands, raises the question o f who, precisely, was understood to be part o f the political order that a free press would help to in­ form .16 By the eighteenth century, all sides acknowledged that gendemen were properly actors in the polity that ought to be informed; but which peo­ ple belonged in the gendeman category was a matter o f opinion. Some ar­ gued that the political order ought to include yeomen, tradesmen, and various other common men who made no pretense o f gentility. Indeed, in some o f the American colonies, property was so widely distributed and gen­ try status was so much a matter o f personal assertion and life-style that gen­ tility could (unction as only a lim ited barrier to political pardcipation. In many colonies, especially New England, yeomen and tradesmen constituted the m ajority o f voters, and therefore it was dear that even if it was relatively easy to become a gentleman, more than just the self-styled gentry needed to be inform ed.17 It was partly for this reason that the liberty o f the press was considered so important. Newspapers were, after all, the most popular and least expensive medium o f public information available. To many observers, however, being a properly informed citizen was not a question o f access to newspapers or o f personal effort but o f formal education for one’s ordained social role. Consequently, much o f the discussion about an informed citizenry took place within the context o f the prescriptions the acknowledged leaders o f public life made for formal education. They were concerned, o f course, with the instruction o f their own progeny, but they also assumed the responsibil-

Freedom and Citizenship ity for directing British society as a whole; they devised schemes for the edu­ cation o f everyone from the great gentry to the poorest o f their countrymen and countrywomen, black as well as white, and N ative Americans. Because the prescriptions were tailored to the actual social and political roles people were expected to fulfill, they reveal the ways in which Britons on both sides o f the Atlantic thought about the boundaries o f their political nation. But since education was designed as much to promote Christianity— an inclu­ sive, proselytizing religion— as to accomplish economic or political objec­ tives, those boundaries were seldom clear-cut. The Massachusetts colony, for example, was ruled by a political hierarchy o f gentlemen magistrates who were landowners and merchants. But those who participated in politics, in the form o f electing representatives, holding local offices, and voting in town and parish meetings, included the m ajority o f landowners, who were themselves the m ajority o f adult men.18 Religious convictions had caused Puritan Massachusetts to erect a graded system o f lo­ cal public schools and a college, just as religious motives had prompted the authorities to undertake “house-to-house inspections’* to make certain that every fam ily owned a Bible and that all children were properly catechized.19 But the impact o f this general literacy was not confined to the religious sphere. Long after the Puritan impulse had been diluted and the orthodox magistracy was superseded by an Anglicizing imperial elite, the legacy o f an educated, informed citizenry remained. The Puritan penchant for all-inclusive, government-enforced compul­ sory education— which had always been exceptional— did not survive, how­ ever, and was supplanted by the English Dissenters’ ideology o f voluntary choice. James Burgh, the influential Dissenting schoolmaster, argued that “there could be no im position mote tyrannical, than to oblige parents to have their children educated in a manner they disapproved of.” A ny kind o f required pedagogy, Burgh claimed, “would open a door to complete reli­ gious tyranny, and would destroy freedom o f enquiry.”20 Toward the end o f the eighteenth century, some secular radicals such as Joseph Priestley would be so alienated from any hint o f religious establishment that they would— unlike Burgh— actually oppose all kinds o f government support for educa­ tion. Ultimately, they argued, government aid would enable the state to control knowledge and to enforce its own orthodoxy.21 Because o f fears that the state would abuse its powers, such reformers pre­ ferred to leave responsibility for an informed citizenry, as for the economy in general, to the marketplace— a circumstance that would enable those par­ ents who had the means to assure their children’s education, while the poor

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Freedom and Citizenship would be left to glean what they could from chanty schools. It was not that radical reformers were indifferent to the idea o f an informed citizenry; in fr a , they actively supported the notion as a requirement for liberty. But pardy because o f their preoccupation with the various disabilities the ruling establishment visited on Dissenters— who, like Catholics and Jew s, were not allowed to enroll in the universities or sit in Parliament— they were con­ vinced that anything touched by the hand o f the su te must be tainted. Thus, if there was to be an informed citizenry, it would have to be achieved by vol­ untary means, chiefly under the supervision o f parents, especially fathers. This oudook was deeply influenced by the writings o f John Locke, both at the general level o f political and psychological theory as well as in the par­ ticulars concerning education. But whereas Locke had emphasized the tuto­ rial instruction o f a young gendeman under his father’s roof, the reformers generally favored education in schools. The advantages o f cooperation and competition with fellow students could only be supplied by schools, and schools were more economical. By means o f schools, a much larger portion o f the properded class, whether merchants, lawyers, clergymen, or lesser gentry, could provide their sons with a gentlemans training. Tuidon, room, and board were, after all, much less cosdy than hiring and housing learned private tutors o f the sort Locke envisioned. Therefore, privately financed schools, which were open to that part o f the public capable o f paying for them, flourished in the eighteenth century— Anglican public schools and clergymens private schools as well as Dissenting academies. These parent-centered, private arrangements for education and the for­ mation o f an informed citizenry were never directed toward what DeLolm e called “the people,” the “democratical” part o f the nation. Jam es Burghs utopian essay published in 1764 did propose that schools be built at govern­ ment expense in every parish in order to provide for more inclusive educa­ tion, but attendance at these schools would be voluntary and in them children would be taught “religion, virtue, justice, goodness, temperance, moderation, self-government, modesty, due respect, [and] obedience to their superiors.”22 This education was not aimed at political empowerment o f citizens but at the creation o f what one scholar calls “a disciplined and reg­ imented Calvinist world o f publicly enforced industry and sobriety.”23 The objective o f Burghs ideal popular education, in which h alf the day was “spent learning useful trades and employments, the other h alf reading, writ­ ing and understanding accounts,” was to reinforce the existing social order by im proving it.24 Burghs own commitment to a free press was qualified in his utopia by a rule that “all immoral and obscene books, prints, pictures are

Freedom and Citizenship ordered to be burnt.”15 Burgh was not, certainly, the only educational re­ former addressing questions o f popular education; however, the fact that a leading Dissenting educator who was widely read in the colonies adopted a stance supporting the existing social order is revealing. The possibilities for any reform that fostered a widely informed and empowered citizenry were profoundly lim ited in a society where even Dissenters, who used the most scathing invective against those who threatened to violate their civil or reli­ gious liberties, sought only to perfect the existing system, not to challenge it fundamentally. Actually, the egalitarianism im plied by DeLolm e’s language was scarcely pan o f the discussion concerning an informed citizenry. The idea that the government should actively promote the education o f Britain’s inhabitants in order to create an informed citizenry was virtually unknown. Because there was no place for common men in public affairs, many believed that no useful purpose was served by educating them beyond the level o f the cate­ chism and elementary numeracy. Indeed, some o f Britain’s political and cul­ tural leaders believed that common people were overreaching their proper stations as it was. The press was disparaged for "prating to all qualities, ages, sexes, constitutions and parties” and for supplying general access to informa­ tion so that "in Politics, every man is an adept, and the lowest mechanic de­ livers his opinion, at his club, upon the deepest public measures.”16 From this perspective, it was just as inappropriate for a common man to be in­ formed or to speak on public matters as for a fishmonger to dress in silks. A t one level, these attitudes expressed the snobbery that characterized Britain’s stratified yet competitive social order. But sometimes criticisms o f the concept o f an inform ed citizenry cut deeper. In 1757 Soame Jenyns, an essayist and member o f Parliament, attacked the entire notion o f an in­ form ed public as misguided. Ignorance, he wrote, was properly "the ap­ pointed lot o f all born to poverty and the drudgeries o f life.” It was, he declared, "the only opiate capable o f infusing that sensibility, which can en­ able them to endure the miseries” o f their lot. "N ever,” Jenyns said, should they be "deprived” o f their God-given ignorance "b y an ill-judged and im ­ proper education,” which would ruin them for their assigned roles in life and upset what Daniel D efoe ironically called "the great law o f subordina­ tion.” 27 This was not mere snobbery but a carefully reasoned political vision that high churchmen and Tories frequently shared. Indeed, when reformers and their opponents debated the question o f whether all ranks o f Englishmen ought to be educated, nearly everyone agreed that the social hierarchy should be maintained. The principal conflict

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Freedom and Citizenship concerned whether or not a popular education regime would strengthen or subvert the status quo.28 Given the fact that Anglican churchmen led the way in implementing popular education by operating charity schools, the immediate threat to social stability was minimal. Am ong the champions o f charity schools, it was the friends o f hierarchy who prevailed. In an article published in the Spectator in 1712, Richard Steele called charity schools uthe greatest Instances o f public Spirit the Age has pro­ duced,” but not because they would lead to a politically informed citizenry. Rather, these schools would, as Locke’s treatise on education had urged, train poor children o f both sexes in “ Methods o f Industry.”29 Although Steele noted that charity schools would instruct the “honest Artificer” in Christian principles, he emphasized the degree to which they would solve the perennial servant problem. The charity school, he asserted, was “a most laudable institution” because it was “producing a Race o f good and useful Servants” who would be obedient, deferential, and loyal in addition to hav­ ing “a liberal, a religious Education.” In their masters’ homes, they would promote virtue rather than undermine it. As one clergyman explained in a sermon, access to charity schools made being poor a kind o f advantage be­ cause through these schools the poor could secure both their salvation and their livelihoods. Steele quoted the clergyman approvingly: “T heir Poverty is, in Reality, their Preferment. ”,c> The success o f this movement was greatest in and around London and other urban centers, where by 1719 over 1,400 charity schools were in opera­ tion.31 But opposition to popular education, brilliandy articulated by Bernard de M andeville in 1714, was substantial. Gendem en, opponents agreed, needed to be informed and some ordinary occupations required lit­ eracy, but for the great mass o f the people, any learning beyond that which could be imparted orally on Sundays was suspect and potentially dangerous. M andeville attacked on all fronts. D id charity schools promote industry? M andeville asserted that, on the contrary, they promoted “ Idleness” because they kept “the Poor from W orking.”32 D id charity schools reduce crime? M andeville answered that “ordinary Rogues and our common Felons” dis­ played “excessive Cunning and Subdety, and too much Knowledge in gen­ eral.”33 As to the claim that popular education encouraged piety, M andeville countered that “the most Knowing, are not the most Religious.” Am ong a hundred “ Poor M e n . . . brought up to hard Labour from their Infancy, such as never went to School at all, and always lived remote from Knowledge and great Towns,” M andeville declared, there is “more Union and Neighbourly Love, less Wickedness and Attachment to the W orld, more Innocence,

Freedom and Citizenship Sincerity, and other good Qualities that conduce to the Publick Peace” than could be found among “an equal number o f very good Scholars, that shall all have had University Education.”*4 W hen it came to hard work, honesty, true humility, and Christian piety, he claimed that the poor, ignorant working man and woman already excelled. The core o f the problem, as M andeville saw it, lay in the misguided social analysis o f the charity school reformers who failed to recognize the grim re­ alities o f economic existence and social discipline. M andeville pointed out that an “abundance o f hard and dirty Labour is to be done, and coarse Living is to be complied with: Where shall we find a better Nursery for these Necessities than the Children o f the Poor? None certainly are nearer to it or fitter for i t . . . . Hardships, neither seem nor are such to those who have been brought up to ’em, and know no better. There is not a more contented People among us, than those who work the hardest and are the least ac­ quainted with the Pomp and Delicacies o f the W orld.”35 Preserving the con­ tentment and low wages o f such a labor force was vital not only for domestic tranquillity but also to enable Britain to compete successfully in interna­ tional trade.*6 Charity schools were not merely harmless extravagances; they were subversive. “The Knowledge o f the W orking Poor,” M andeville argued, “should be confin’d within the Verge o f their Occupations, and never ex­ tended (as to things visible) beyond what relates to their C alling.” Mande­ ville acknowledged that “ Reading, W riting and Arithm etick, are very necessary to those, whose Business require such Q ualifications, but where People’s livelihood has no dependence on these A rts,” he declared, “they are very pernicious to the Poor, who are forc’d to get their D aily Bread by their D aily Labour.”*7 N o educated person, M andeville explained, would w illingly “do the dirty slavish Work” that Britain required.*8 “Those who spent a great part o f their Youth in learning to Read, W rite and Cypher,” M andeville noted, “expect and not unjusdy to be employ’d where those Qualifications may be o f use to them.” They looked down on labor “with the utmost Contem pt” and re­ fused to “serve a Farmer for a pitiful Reward.”*9 Considering these facts o f life, M andeville believed it was “madness” for gendemen to ruin their own labor forces and to create reservoirs o f discontent by using charity schools to educate “ People o f the meanest Rank.”40 M andeville defended this blunt, unsentimental analysis by appealing to the long-term public interests o f Britain. Charity schools had become a mat­ ter o f fashionable indulgence among the wealthy and their privileged clergy, without sufficient consideration for the schools’ deeper consequences.41

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Freedom and Citizenship M andeville knew he might be called “an Uncharitable, Hard-hearted and Inhuman, if not a W icked, Profine, and Atheistical Wretch” for pointing out the hard social truth, but he claimed the “ Publick Spirit” o f the nation was at stake.41 “Where deep Ignorance is entirely routed and expeU’d, and low Learning promiscuously scatter’d on all the People,” M andeville rea­ soned, “ Self-Love turns Knowledge into Cunning, and the more this last Qualification prevails. . . the more the People w ill fix all their Cares, Concern and Application on the Tim e present, without regard o f what is to come after them, o r . . . the next Generation.”43 In the short run, charity schools might promote feelings o f benevolence among their contributors and improve the lives o f a few poor people, but in the future, they would spawn a whirlwind o f popular discontent, turm oil, and villainy. Because he was convinced that education must be functional on eco­ nomic, social, and political planes, M andeville, like Locke, concentrated on the benefits o f liberal education for gendemen, the people whose public, po­ litical responsibilities required that they be informed. N ot charity schools but professorships and universities warranted philanthropic patronage, ac­ cording to M andeville, who also urged that taxes be raised so that every county would possess at least one large school o f six or more grades for Latin and Greek.44 Concern for an informed cidzenry was properly directed only toward the nadon’s riding class. A sim ilar emphasis on the education o f gendemen prevailed in the colonies, although in Connecticut and Massachusetts, seventeenth-century statutes continued to provide for tax-supported elementary and grammar schools. In 1749 when Benjam in Franklin published his Proposeäs Relating to the Education o f Youth in Pennsylvania, he did not call for a publicly sup­ ported school system to educate all inhabitants o f the colony; instead, he rec­ ommended “that some Persons o f Leisure and publick Spirit, apply for a Charter. . . with power to erect an Academy.” N ot taxes but donations and tuition would finance this academy, whose students would be groomed for leadership in Pennsylvania.45 The bulk o f Franklin’s proposal, which quoted from a range o f notable British and French writers on the education o f gen­ tlemen, concerned the specific curriculum that was best calculated to nur­ ture the kind o f liberally educated, virtuous gentlemen o f “G ood Breeding” whom theory taught should guide the colony.46 Two years later, Franklin would propose that an “ English School” be created as an adjunct to the clas­ sical academy to prepare boys for “any Business, C alling or Profession” in which no language other than English was required. Like the academy’s clas­ sical department, the English school would provide a foundation for “the

Freedom and Citizenship Happiness both o f private Families and o f Commonwealths” since graduates would be qualified to engage in private affairs as well as hold public office.47 Ultimately, this Philadelphia academy would develop into the University o f Pennsylvania. The preparation o f elite citizens for private careers and public service, not the education o f common people, was always its goal. O riginally Franklin and his associates were guided by the British ideology o f the preparation o f gendemen citizens. “W ise and good men are,” Franklin wrote, “the strength o f a state: much more so than riches or arm s." Even though only a few would truly fulfill this ideal, “the influence o f those few and the service in their power,” he was convinced, “m ay be very great.”48 But unlike Locke, M andeville, Burgh, and a broad range o f English educational theorists, from the very beginning Franklin planned for the academy to pro­ mote a degree o f social mobility. Franklin’s original proposal stated that when the endowment was sufficient, “poor Children shall be admitted and taught gratis, what shall be thought suitable to their Capacities and Circum stances.”49 M any o f these, no doubt, would become “qualified to act as Schoolmasters in the Country, to teach Children Reading, W riting, Arithmetick, and the Gram m ar o f their M other Tongue.”*0 As a result, the acad­ emy would foster a broadly informed citizenry by serving as a kind o f teachers college as well as a training ground for public officials. For a few ex­ ceptional poor boys, whom Franklin perhaps imagined were like himself, the academy could serve as a ladder for the most spectacular kind o f social as­ cent. Ironically, Franklin’s m obility model was Britain, where, he supposed, “whoever distinguishes himself. . . in either o f the three learned Professions, gains Fame, and often Wealth and Power: A poor Man’s Son has a Chance, if he studies hard, to rise, either in the Law or the Church, to gainful Offices o f Benefices; to an extraordinary Pitch o f Grandeur; to have a Voice in Parliament, a Seat among the Peers; as a Statesman or first M inister to gov­ ern Nations, and even to m ix his Blood with Princes.”*1 In this m obility fan­ tasy, Franklin never imagined that the poor generally would participate; but in contrast to M andeville and most British theorists, he did not confine the poor to permanent and complete disenfranchisement by closing the portals o f gentility to them. Franklin’s tribute to British social m obility may have been exaggerated, but it did underscore a reality that theorists did not often acknowledge: that, in fret, British society was accommodating social m obility and the ranks o f those who called themselves gendemen were growing. In the colonies, such m obility was even more widespread than in Britain, and although not every­ one could or would label themselves as genteel, property was so broadly dis-

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Freedom and Citizenship tributed among white men that scarcely any o f them regarded themselves as members o f that servile, disenfranchised class, the poor. As a result, the con­ notation o f an informed citizenry, which in Britain meant gendemen only, was much looser in the colonies. Another mid-century educational project, this one in the colony o f New York, revealed how justifications for establish­ ing academies and colleges to prepare colonial elites could supply the foun­ dation for a more inclusive ideology o f an informed citizenry. In this case, the arguments o f Dissenters and Radical W higs were called into play. Although these writers accepted social stratification and the privi­ leges o f wealth, they believed such inequalities should be based more on merit than preferment, and they were w illing to criticize the status quo. In their view, an informed citizenry ought to be more comprehensive and com­ prise more than just liberally educated gendemen. Using the writings o f John Locke and Robert Molesworth as points o f departure, they argued that free inquiry, a free press, and tolerance o f political criddsm were integrally connected to liberty. Reaching back to ideas that had been voiced in the Renaissance by authors such as Robert Crowley, who had defended the right “to speak against the faults o f all degrees without exception,” and John M ilton, who had called on governments to refrain from censorship, they as­ serted the necessity o f an informed citizenry. Just as critical inquiry was vital for establishing religious and sciendfic truths, from this perspective a politi­ cally informed citizenry, one that was equipped to evaluate public policy, was vital for the well-being o f the state and the liberty o f its people. By mid-century, this viewpoint, which valued a politically informed citi­ zenry over a realm populated by subjects indoctrinated in religious and po­ litical conformity, was part o f the Anglo-American discussion, even turning up occasionally in such respected British periodicals as Addison and Steele s often-reprinted Spectator and Bolingbroke’s Craftsm an?* In New York, W illiam Livingston and his associates produced a fully elaborated statement o f this position in 1753 in the Independent Reflector, a magazine inspired by the Spectator. Here, in an article entided “The Advantages o f Education, with the Necessity o f instituting Gram m ar schools for the Instruction o f Youth, preparatory to their admission into our intended College,” they went well beyond Franklins conventional justification for the Pennsylvania acad­ emy. Whereas Franklin had blandly sought to prepare liberally educated civic leaders, Livingston and his coauthors boldly asserted the civic necessity o f an informed citizenry: “ Knowledge among a People makes them free, en­ terprising and dauntless; but Ignorance enslaves, emasculates and depresses them.” Here, they declared, lay the only sure security for the preservation o f

Freedom and Citizenship British liberties: “W hen Men know their Rights, they w ill at all Hazards de­ fend them, as well against the insidious Designs o f domestic Politicians, as the undisguised Attacks o f a foreign enemy.” The natural ignorance that M andeville and Jenyns had praised as a necessary bastion o f social peace was here said to open the way to tyranny: “W hile the M ind remains involved in its native Obscurity, it becomes pliable, abject, dastardly, and tame: It swal­ lows the grossest Absurdities, submits to the vilest Impositions, and follows wherever it is led.” Anyone who dared to contemplate an opposing view was faced with the irrefutable evidence o f world history, all o f which confirmed the necessity o f an informed citizenry: “ He must be a Stranger to H istory and the W orld”— an ignorant provincial— “who has not observed, that the Prosperity, Happiness, Grandeur, and even the Strength o f a People, have al­ ways been the Consequences o f the Improvement and Cultivation o f their M inds.” In menacing, even apocalyptic tones, Livingston and his colleagues warned that wherever the improvement and cultivation o f a whole peoples minds were neglected, “triumphant Ignorance has opened its Sluices, and the C ountry has been overflowed with Tyranny, Barbarism, ecclesiastical Dom ination, Superstition, Enthusiasm, corrupt Manners, and an irresistible confederate Host o f Evils, to its utter Ruin and Destruction.”53 Given the N ew York colony’s paucity o f educational institutions and lade o f a college, it, like most o f the colonies, was imperiled. This full-blown polemic on behalf o f an informed citizenry was not a complete rebuttal o f conservative voices like Jenyns and M andeville since all agreed that gendemen should be politically informed. The Independent Reflector articles never actually specified that yeomen or journeymen, let alone laborers or women, should be informed. Livingston and his Radical W hig mentors were also not prepared to level all ranks and abolish deference to men o f property, learning, and leisure. But their views contrasted with those o f Tories, and conservatives generally, who emphasized the narrowly functional and religious objectives o f popular instruction, aim ing always to provide only as much education as was consistent with due subordination. T he two viewpoints were not yet w holly incompatible, but their tendency and thrust clearly diverged. In reality, the Livingston argument anticipated the innovative path along which the colonists were moving. Livingston and his associates were advo­ cating establishing a college, like Harvard, Yale, or the College o f W illiam and Mary, in order to produce generations o f genteel, cosmopolitan leaders; but at the same time, they expected that the new institution would “make a

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Freedom and Citizenship vast Alteration in our Affairs and Condition, civil and religious.” The fruits o f learning and o f cultivating enlightened, liberal values would not be confined within college or council chamber walls: knowledge “w ill, more or less, influence every Individual amongst us, and diffuse its Spirit thro’ all Ranks, Parties and Denom inations.”54 This suggestion o f an inclusive, even comprehensive, conception o f a citizenry com prising “all Ranks” was un­ usual in the 1750s, and it is all the more remarkable because it was expressed in one o f America’s most heterogeneous colonies. W hat was crucial in this viewpoint was not the belief that elite education supplied benefits to the whole society, a view that had been a commonplace since the Renaissance. W hat was new, and potentially radical, was the idea that the very same val­ ues, ideas, and information might penetrate and permeate the entire social order, if only in attenuated form , and that the minds as well as the manners o f the lower ranks mattered. The idea that the minds o f the lower ranks figured crucially in the politi­ cal balance was clearly unconventional and marked a boundary in democratic thought. A t the same time, however, it is im portant to note the im plicit assumption that women, blacks, and Native Americans were ex­ cluded from all political consideration. The idea o f an informed citizenry was not being extended by Radical W higs, or anyone else, to include mem­ bers o f these groups. Indeed, relatively litde was written about educating blacks or Native Americans, and those who wrote about women’s education at most saw it as a means to prepare pious, genteel, apolitical wives and mothers. Actually, the prescriptions for informed women, blacks, and Native Americans were predicated on the same kind o f subordination that characterized justifications for charity schools. For women, the possibilities for education included preparation for the short-term goal o f competing successfully in the marriage market or more substantial training for lifelong virtue and sound household management. Essays in the Spectator that criticized women’s education urged that they learn more than merely the ornaments o f needlework, dancing, and the French language— which focused on appearances— and read more books in order to acquire “common Sense.”55 M andeville, who admitted that “there is no Labour o f the Brain, which Women are not as capable o f perform ing, at least, as well as the Men” and that “there are many Examples o f Women that have excelled in Learning, even in War,” still argued that this was “no reason we should bring ’em all up to Latin and Greek, or else M ilitary Discipline, instead o f Needlework and Housewifery.”5* The purpose o f being educated

Freedom and Citizenship or inform ed was not so that one could realize one’s latent abilities to the fullest but so that one could perform one’s assigned social role. For women, that role was domestic. As Benjam in Franklin, a self-educated man who re­ jected his father’s place in society, put it in an essay on women’s education, a mother should educate her daughters so as “to make them like your self.”57 Except for female monarchs, before the late eighteenth century, no one pro­ posed that women should have a public, civic role. Those who proposed the systematic education o f African Americans used the contemporary charity school as the model. In Philadelphia, the evange­ list George W hitefields preaching awakened black and white interest in lit­ eracy and religious training, and in the late 1740s and the 1750s, Anglicans created black charity schools.58T he sponsors o f the schools believed that cat­ echizing blacks and teaching them to read would "make them more faithful and honest in their Masters Service.”59As in M andeville’s critique o f English charity schools, however, Franklin noted that some opposed the schools be­ cause o f their conviction "that Reading and Knowledge in a Slave are both useless and dangerous.”60 After Franklin visited a "N egro School,” he com­ mented that "their Apprehension seems as quick, their M em ory as strong, and their D ocility in every Respect equal to that o f white Children,” but he did not suggest that anything other than a servile role would ever be ex­ pected o f the pupils.61 Indeed, in view o f prevailing expectations about prop­ erty, independence, and citizenship, it would have been no more possible for Franklin to have imagined a public role for African Americans than it would have been for him to have imagined a public role for women. For Native Americans, the goal o f education was not, as for the poor and slaves, to mold them into good Christian servants, but neither was it in any sense to help them fulfill any public or civic role. Evangelism and a measure o f acculturation or "civilization” were the objectives pursued by the Anglican Society for the Propagation o f the Gospel (SPG) and various Dissenting missionaries.62 W hen the Reverend H enry Barclay ministered to Indians in the 1730s for the SP G , he taught reading and w riting in their own language as well as the catechism.63 A few years later, a New England missionary, the Reverend John Sergeant, proposed instructing Indians in uthe English Language. . . and thereby in stilling into their M inds and Hearts, w ith a more lasting Impression, the Principles o f Virtue and P iety” Sergeants plan, which promoted the education o f girls as well as boys and stressed manual labor along with book-learning, was aimed at supplanting Native American cul­ ture with English customs. Sergeant viewed Indians as "gready debased. . . a base ungrateful People, insensible o f Kindnesses done them,” which was all

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Freedom and Citizenship the mote reason “to promote Hum anity among them.” Because it was neces­ sary “to change their whole H abit o f thinking and acting,” there was no hope o f incorporating them into the body politic at any time in the near future or even o f converting very many o f them to Christianity. New England mis­ sionaries’ efforts were propelled as much by their desire to save their own Anglo-American souls as by their desire to rescue Indians from damnation.*4 W hat set the education o f Native Americans apart from that o f the poor, African Americans, and women was not that they were outsiders to the pub­ lic councils and therefore had no role as citizens, a condition shared by all o f these groups. Instead, it was the fact that promoters o f the education o f Native Americans actively encouraged them to attend college. W hether at Harvard or at the College o f W illiam and Mary, the aim in all cases was to produce Native American missionaries, but the effort was a resounding fail­ ure.*5As Benjam in Franklin explained regarding some abortive mid-century attempts to send Indians to college, the families o f the students found that they became “absolutely good for nothing!,] being neither acquainted with the true methods o f killing deer, catching Beaver or surprizing an enemy.”6* Being informed in the British sense did not help to fulfill the requirements o f Indian citizenship. Efforts to convert and educate Native Americans were part o f a broader attempt to assimilate subordinate and alien peoples in the prescribed cus­ toms and values o f Anglo-American society, even though they would not be included among the citizenry as political actors. The assimilation o f another prominent group o f aliens— the Germans o f Pennsylvania— however, had immediate public consequences because they owned property and could vote. Significandy, it was urgent that through education the language barrier be removed in order to make German men into informed citizens. Benjam in Franklin framed the problem in a 1753 letter to an English re­ former. The difficulty was not that these people were Germans but that “those [Germans] who come hither are generally o f the most ignorant Stupid Sort o f their own Nation, and as Ignorance is often attended with Credulity when Knavery would mislead it, and with Suspicion when Honesty would set it right; and as few o f the English understand the German Language, and so cannot address them either from the Press or Pulpit, ’tis almost impossible to remove any prejudices they once entertain.” Since most German Americans were Anabaptist sectarians, Franklin noted, even “their own Clergy have very litde influence over the people.” These Germans created a political problem not because they were unruly but because they voted “ in droves, and carry all before them.” Their ignorance had created the classic

Freedom and Citizenship problem o f citizenship in a representative government. Franklin was “not against the Admission o f Germans in general, for they have their Virtues,” but he feared that by becoming the tools o f political knaves, they would put Pennsylvania government at risk.67 Franklin proposed that English-language schools be established among the Germans as the prim ary means to solve this problem. To entice parents into enrolling their children, he insisted, the schools must be free.68 For the “vulgar,” the curriculum “should be calculated rather to make them good citizens than what is called good scholars.” A t the highest educational level, the senior Germ an clergyman in Philadelphia would be appointed as a “German Professor o f D ivinity” at a projected Pennsylvania college. His presence, it was hoped, would draw young Germ an clerics to study in Philadelphia, an experience that would “anglify” them. As in W illiam Livingstons New York college proposal, not only gendemen citizens but also vulgar citizens mattered. The core principles driving this Anglo-American scheme for German assimilation were political: “A free people can be gov­ erned only by reason, virtue, glory, honor, and the like, which are the results o f education, without which, therefore, they cannot be governed at all. W hen men are free to speak and act they must be instructed how to speak and act righdy, otherwise they w ill use their liberty against those from whom they received it.”69 In the colonies’ multicultural setting, where the broad distribution o f property provided a m ajor political voice for the vulgar citi­ zenry, schooling often appeared to be the best means to furnish suitable po­ litical education. The mainstream o f eighteenth-century British political thought held that the nation’s political well-being required the foundation o f an informed gendeman citizenry. The prevailing assumption was that, as in the cases o f the poor, Africans, and Native Americans, “ Poverty and W an t. . . debase the M inds o f M en,” so that “Ignorance and Barbarity” were linked naturally to “ Despotic Power.”70 For this reason, generally speaking, those who were not gendemen citizens should be kept subordinate at all times. M andeville had warned o f the corrosive economic and social effects o f raising people s expec­ tations above their stations. In a standard sermon commemorating the exe­ cution o f Charles I, the bishop o f Peterborough used that historical example to show that when the ignorant “common People. . . were taught Griev­ ances, and a Right to have them redress’d in their own Way,” the result had been “ Insurrections and Rebellion.”71 This was one o f the dangers that char­ ity schools were supposed to allay. Com m on people should be sufficiendy

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Freedom and Citizenship educated so as to value subordination and deference over the siren calls o f demagogues, but they should not be so well informed that they would dare to judge public affairs on their own. As one early eighteenth-century com­ mentator observed: “ The people are not competent judges o f the actions o f magistrates.” There existed, he asserted, “mysteries o f state, to the bottom o f which the people are not able to dive.”71 M any authors from all along the political spectrum doubted that the “meaner sort” could ever be so thoroughly indoctrinated as to resist corrup­ tion; however, it became conventional to differentiate “the people” from the poor instead o f conflating the two. “The people” came to mean those who possessed sufficient property to be independent o f patronage jobs, especially ministerial patronage.7* Em ploying this kind o f definition, authors could contemplate a greater degree o f “popular” political engagement. T h e voices that articulated this broader definition o f the citizenry came from several points on the political spectrum and never united in a single description o f who, precisely, ought to possess a political voice and must therefore become informed. Collectively, however, they revealed that by the middle decades o f the eighteenth century the movement away from the idea o f a citizenry com­ posed exclusively o f gendemen was firm ly established on both sides o f the Atlantic. In New England, where common farmers and tradesmen had long voted on public affairs in addition to m aking decisions about the hiring, firing, and salaries o f clergymen, the nature o f popular citizenship was a frequent topic o f election sermons. O ften the legitim acy o f the people s voice was ac­ knowledged by warnings against excess or error. In 1720, for example, a Massachusetts political hom ily noted that “the people, through ignorance and want o f judgement, may think that amiss in rulers which is not so.”74 Twenty years later, a sim ilar remark cautioned that “the common people are not always able to judge what is just and righteous in a public administra­ tion.” A t the same time, however, clergymen legitimated the popular voice . even if it was im perfectly informed, pointing out that “although the igno­ rance o f the people should make them very cautious” in judging their rulers, “everyone can feel when he is oppressed and injured, or done jusdy by.”7* The solution to popular ignorance and lack o f good judgm ent was not the disenfranchisement o f the people but access to better information. As early as 17 11, Joseph Addison had argued in the Spectator that newspa­ pers “would be o f great Use were they thus calculated to diffuse good Sense through the Bulk o f a People, to clear up their Understandings, [and] ani­ mate their M inds with V irtue.” For the good o f society, he argued, “ Knowl-

Freedom and Citizenship edge” should not be reserved for learned elites by being “ bound up in Books and kept in Libraries and Retirements” ; it should be positively “obtruded upon the P u b lick,. . . canvassed in every Assembly, and exposed upon every Table.”76 Later, Benjam in Franklin addressed the same problem from a different angle, asserting that books, despite being expensive, should be made more w idely available through the establishment o f public libraries. Franklin’s objective was not specifically political, but he did seek to promote an informed citizenry by encouraging the “more general Use and Esteem” o f “valuable Books,” which would “ have very good Effects on the M inds o f the People. . . and furnish them with the most useful kind o f Knowledge, that which renders Men benevolent and helpful to one another.”77 The flowering o f enlightened arguments such as those o f Addison and Franklin was an in­ dication that ideas about the solution to the problem o f an ignorant people were shifting away from keeping them ignorant and submissive and toward inform ing and enfranchising them. By the 1740s, for example, English newspapers carried essays advancing the view that even nonvoters, men o f the “meaner sort,” should have the right to hold opinions on public affairs and ought to be allowed to protest against governments and laws they deemed improper. The idea that every man who paid any kind o f tax had the right to hold political opinions, whether or not he owned a freehold, was gaining currency.78 According to the influential Viscount Bolingbroke, men “o f all degrees” belonged to the political nation, and Tory patriots agreed that anyone engaged in “honest labour and industry” should be included.79 In New York, Cadwallader Colden direcdy confronted the bullionist argument that “the Power & strength o f a Nation consists in its riches & Money.” Although Colden rec­ ognized that “money can do great things,” he believed that “the Power o f a Nation consists in the knowledge & Virtue o f its inhabitants.”80 This opti­ m istic Enlightenment outlook, which ran contrary to the caustic assump­ tions o f M andevillean and mercantilist political economy, seems to have enjoyed more general support in the colonies than in Britain, but it was gaining ground everywhere. In Massachusetts, a young Harvard-educated lawyer, John Adams, an avid reader o f English history and political theory— especially the Radical W hig writers— explained his own understanding o f the English idea o f an inform ed citizenry in a memorandum he entered in his personal diary in 176 1. H is was an extreme interpretation that contrasted an English Protes­ tant ideal with an anti-Catholic caricature. In Adams’s view, “ English Law” required “some Acquaintance with Letters,. . . that a M an may fill any sta-

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Freedom and Citizenship tion whatever.” Ignoring the fact that several o f the Enlightenm ents most influential writers on the education o f the laity, including the noted French­ man Charles Rollin, were Roman Catholics, Adams contrasted this manda­ tory British literacy with “the Countries o f slavery, and Rom ish superstition,” where, he claimed, “the Laity must not learn to read, least they should detect the gross Impostures o f the Priesthood, and shake o ff the Yoke o f Bondage.” Adams concluded that “ in Protestant Countries, and especially in England and its Colonies, Freedom o f Enquiry is allowed to be not only the Priviledge [rid but the D uty o f every Individual.” In the privacy o f his diary, Adams superimposed the ideals o f Puritan Massachusetts over those o f the mother country. “ The English Constitu­ tion,” he claimed with some originality, uis founded, tis bottomed And grounded on the Knowledge and good sense o f the People.” By “the People,” Adams seems to have meant not merely all property holders or even all tax­ payers but all free men. Describing a citizens responsibility, he declared: “ I must judge for myself, but how can I judge, how can any M an judge, unless his M ind has been opened and enlarged by Reading.” T his yeomans son, who practiced law out o f a room in his fathers farmhouse, described his own situation as if it were everymans. Although he was an aspiring college gradu­ ate and had been admitted to the Boston bar, he was still close to the ordi­ nary men o f his locale. It was his conviction, based on observation as well as ideology, that “a Man who can read, w ill find in his Bible, in the common sermon Books that common People have by them and even in the Almanack and News Papers, Rules and observations, that w ill enlarge his Range o f Thought, and enable him the better to judge who has and who has not that Integrity o f Heart, and that Compass o f Knowledge and Understanding, which form the Statesman.”81 Such a declaration, had it been made publicly, would have seemed naively optim istic to many leaders in Massachusetts and the other colonies and would have been condemned as absolutely radical in England. But for John Adams in 176 1, the people, indeed the common peo­ ple, were not an intellectual abstraction; they were bone o f his bone, flesh o f his flesh, and he believed he understood their minds as well. To the London-trained Boston jurist Benjam in Prat, the principles o f Bernard de M andeville made much better sense in 1760 than those o f Adams, which he would have viewed as dangerous foolishness. Echoing re­ marks made by Governor W illiam Berkeley o f Virginia a century earlier, Prat declared publicly that “ it is a very happy T hing to have People superstitious. They should believe exaedy as their M inister believes.. . . They should not so much as know what they believe. The People ought to be ignorant. And

Freedom and Citizenship our Free schools are the very bane o f society. They make the lowest o f the People infinitely conceited.”81 Like most Englishmen, Prat recognized that being informed was a key ingredient o f hegemony, just as ignorance sus­ tained the submissiveness o f ordinary people. Am ong those like Prat who supported the existing political hierarchy, Mandeville’s maxim, “ Should a Horse know as much as a M an, I should not desire to be his Rider,” ex­ plained the need for popular ignorance.83 But by the 1760s, views such as Prat’s were routinely challenged. Several years after Adams composed his private encomium to an informed citizenry o f common men, the Dissenting schoolmaster Jam es Burgh published views that were rooted in the same Radical W hig tradition and expressed sim ilar tendencies. Like Adams, Buigh argued that “ Protestant Religion” had tri­ umphed “over popish delusion” by means o f “the exercise o f the unalienable right o f private judgm ent, and liberty o f publication.” He, too, denied what he characterized as “the common cant o f our ministerial slaves, ‘That private persons are incompetent judges o f the conduct o f their governors.’” Burgh dismissed with scornful irony the notion that “the brain o f a statesman [was] made o f materials different from that o f a citizen” or that one must be a “mas­ ter o f the sublime geometry, or the Newtonian philosophy” in order “to judge o f political subjects.” Burgh did not go as far as Adams in praising the benefits o f reading for common men, but he did argue that “plain sense, ap­ plied to general, instead o f private concerns,” was mostly what was needed “to judge whether the interests o f ones country is [sic\ properly attended.” To govern well, a leader did not need rarefied learning or esoteric experience but the down-to-earth traits o f “common sense, common honesty, and a moder­ ate knowledge o f history.”84Although Burgh did not define precisely who he meant by the term “citizen,” he seemed to include not only merchants and manufacturers, whom he claimed had “as much occasion for extensive knowledge, and liberal sentiment, as the man o f estate,” but all English sub­ jects. He argued that “the subjects in a free country have a right to consider themselves as on the same foot with the stockholders in a trading company” ; therefore, when a subject had grievances, like a stockholder he possessed the right to make “England ring with his com plaints.”83 Burgh’s apparent readi­ ness to acknowledge a broadly inclusive citizenry converged with Adams’s support for the political enfranchisement o f common men in Massachusetts. Opponents o f these radical views regarded them as unconstitutional and stigmatized writers like Burgh as republican subverters o f monarchy. For their part, Radical W higs defended their version o f the monarchy and the rights o f Englishmen as the true constitutional legacy o f 1688. In fact, how-

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Freedom and Citizenship ever, they had reinterpreted the Glorious Revolution according to republi­ can assumptions that undermined Britain’s political status quo. W hen the London-based Society for Constitutional Inform ation published its Address to theP u hlicin 1780, it began with the premise that English liberty depended upon a politically informed citizenry that comprised all Englishmen. “T h e universal right o f suffrage,” it claimed, was one o f the ancient rights o f Englishmen. G oing h i beyond anything that John Adams had articulated twenty years earlier, the society declared that “as every Englishman has an equal inheritance in this Liberty; and in those Laws and that Constitution which have been provided for its defence; it is therefore necessary that every Englishman should know what the Constitution is; W hen it is sa fe ; and when e n d a n g e r e d .” The best way for the people to know their constitu­ tional rights was to exercise them constantly. But until they were folly re­ stored and in use, the Society for Constitutional Inform ation proposed to distribute its tracts gratis throughout Great Britain.86 To mainstream British political thinkers, organizations like the Society for Constitutional Inform ation represented a dangerous, radical fringe that, insofar as it was legally possible, ought to be harassed and suppressed for at­ tempting to subvert the political order. It would, in fact, be more than a cen­ tury before the doctrine o f universal male suffrage and equal rights achieved victory in Britain. In the American colonies, however, the ideology o f the Radical W higs followed a different trajectory. In the next generation, John Adams, the youthful country lawyer who privately celebrated a republican interpretation o f the English constitution, would move from the furthest pe­ riphery o f political power to its center as he joined a cadre o f American lead­ ers who subscribed to sim ilar beliefs. In the minds o f most public men in Britain and its colonies, the idea o f an informed citizenry was still clothed in a gendeman s suit; whether those garments would continue to serve the no­ tion had become the question.

C hapter^ ^

Bulwark o f

Revolutionary L ib erty^ The Recognition o f the Informed Citizen By the middle o f the eighteenth century, even before the imperial conflict between Britain and its American colonies began, Radical W higs and others had articulated the idea o f an informed citizenry in various ways. Moreover, such widely supported ideals as free speech and press and religious liberty, together with the general Enlightenment belief that increases in knowledge were progressive and beneficent, reinforced the notion o f an informed citi­ zenry. B elief in social hierarchy remained powerful, as did the sense that so­ ciety, like nature, must be stratified, but the MandeviUean argument that social peace required keeping the lower classes ignorant found few spokes­ men. Bringing the light o f learning, including the knowledge o f the gospel, to all Englishmen was a goal commanding general assent. From a political standpoint, however, the idea o f an informed citizenry remained inconsequential in the American colonies as well as in Britain. The central preoccupations o f Georgian politics lay elsewhere— in the tensions between Crown and Parliament, in debates over balanced government, and in the pronounced concern over corruption that was associated with Robert Walpole’s parliamentary regime. Moreover, the meanings o f the high princi­ ples that surrounded the informed citizen ideal— free speech and press, religious liberty, and the general expansion o f learning— were contested. Learning and popular literacy were defended by high churchmen as mea­ sures promoting moral improvement and piety, whereas secular voices sup­ ported learning as a means to erase superstition and mindless credulity among common folk. Understandings o f the concept o f religious liberty were even more vexed. To secular-minded Deists, it meant the total separation o f church and state and an end to centuries o f tax-supported religion. For the established Angli­ can clergy, religious liberty carried no such im plications; it merely meant that no one would be forced to worship contrary to the dictates o f con-

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Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty science and that Christian worship o f all varieties would be freely perm itted. Am ong Protestant sectarians, no single viewpoint ruled, and some w ere ready to endorse church taxes, provided they were distributed according to the taxpayer s religious preference. The meaning o f free speech and press, principles that were interwoven with the idea o f an informed citizenry, was sim ilarly controversial. A fter Britain’s licensing law for publications lapsed in the 1690s, freedom o f the press came to mean the absence o f European-style prior censorship. Publish­ ers could print anything they wished; however, afterward they m ight be sued for libel by individuals or punitively by officials o f the state and the church for the crimes o f seditious or blasphemous libel. By mid-century, in the New York colony at least, the Zenger case had advanced the proposition that pub­ lishing the truth was protected, even against prosecution for seditious libel. And although Radical W higs on both sides o f the Atlantic believed that some kinds o f false and malicious speech should be prohibited, they were moving toward a more extended view o f a free press than merely one unen­ cumbered by prior censorship. But there was no agreement as to the limits o f free speech and press. Like religious liberty, freedom o f speech and freedom o f the press were among the celebrated “rights o f Englishm en,” and they supplied a grounding for the idea o f an informed citizenry. But it was a rather uncertain foundation because the conceptions o f these principles were ambiguous, indefinite, and fluid. Still, by mid-century, sentiment that broadly favored some vague idea o f an informed citizenry was growing. Indeed, in Britain, scores if not hun­ dreds o f charitable endowments helped to support schools and colleges and assisted in the education o f well-connected and talented but needy boys. But the creation and maintenance o f an informed citizenry was not consid­ ered a public responsibility. The Church o f England was expected to pro­ mote “Christian knowledge”— priests were to catechize their flocks— but otherwise the education o f children and youth was purely the private re­ sponsibility o f families. As with other potentially marketable skills for which British parents purchased their childrens apprenticeships, instruction in reading, writing, arithmetic, and all other subjects was a private matter. Conditions in the American colonies generally reflected patterns in Britain, although from the perspective o f Enlightenment ideals, there were some discouraging differences. Charitable endowments were rare in America; in addition, there were hundreds o f thousands o f African slaves and Native Americans who could not be included in social calculations re­ garding free speech and press, religious liberty, or an informed citizenry.

Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty Indeed, to many masters o f slaves, the Mandevillean belief in the social ne­ cessity o f keeping the laboring class ignorant still made sense. Slavery, more­ over, was an established institution in every colony. O n the other side o f the balance, however, were the exceptional practices o f Puritan New England, that is, Massachusetts and Connecticut. In these colonies, in contrast to other political jurisdictions in the British Em pire, public authorities laid taxes to support free schools for all free boys. The ob­ jective o f these seventeenth-century policies had been essentially religious, based on the conviction that an ignorant people were sinful and uncon­ verted and would provoke G od’s wrath, but by the mid-eighteenth century secular and civic justifications were made as well. Moreover, the results o f these education policies, which were also related to New England’s broad diffusion o f property and its literate heritage, struck many observers. In 1765 the young Massachusetts attorney John Adams boasted “that all candid for­ eigners who have passed through this country, and conversed freely with all sorts o f people here, w ill allow, that they have never seen so much knowledge and civility among the common people in any part o f the w orld.”1 New England’s Puritan legacy, observers agreed, gave the region a more educated common standard than other colonies had, but the differences were matters o f degree rather than kind. In New York City, a gendeman complained in the 1750s Mhow common it is to see a Shoemaker, Taylor, or Barber, haranguing with a great deal o f Warmth on the public A ffairs.” Though armed only with “ Knowledge from the News-Papers,” a tradesman would “condemn a General, Governor, or Province with as much Assurance as if he were o f the Privy council.”1 To a British gendeman, the tradesmans effrontery was more striking than his access to inform ation, but these re­ marks suggest that common citizens in New York C ity were, at least in their own eyes, informed polidcally. The observations o f Anglican clergyman Jacob Duché o f Philadelphia supply further evidence that even in regions where there was no New England-5tyle school establishment, ordinary men valued being informed and often saw themselves as informed citizens. “The poorest laborer upon the shore o f the Delaware,” Duché reported, “thinks him self entided to de­ liver his sentiments in matters o f religion or polidcs with as much freedom as the gendeman or scholar.” Deferential manners, Duché said, were dim in­ ished since “cringing servility” was not the regional style. And although Duché believed “literary accomplishments here meet with deserved ap­ plause,” he pointed out that “such is the prevailing taste for books o f every kind, that almost every man is a reader; and by pronouncing sentence . . .

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Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty upon the various publications that come in his way, puts him self upon a level, in point o f knowledge, with their several authors.”* Farther south, learning was said to be less widespread among common white men. Yet a 1762 North Carolina statute held masters accountable for the literacy o f even their black apprentices, and in Virginia, justices o f the peace “consistently held parents and masters responsible for the education o f their children and servants.”4 As in Britain, schooling was generally “used as a vehicle for per­ sonal advancement.”5 Although John Adams was speaking o f white male New Englanders in 1765 when he asserted that “a native o f America who can­ not read and w rite . . . is as rare as a comet or an earthquake”6 and the liter­ acy levels o f colonial women lagged behind those o f men, scholars agree that American literacy rates surpassed those in England, attaining or exceeding levels in Presbyterian Scotland.7 T his cultural foundation, which combined widespread literacy and property holding with broadly expressed feelings o f empowerment among ordinary householders, gave special cogency to the idea o f an informed citizenry in colonial America. Still, the idea o f an informed citizenry was rarely advocated or even ex­ pressed in the mid-eighteenth-century colonies. The Americans, like the British, were preoccupied with other issues. Newspaper columns traced the course o f foreign warfare and the politics o f the court and Parliament, while colonial leaders expended their energy on contests over frontier land, com­ mercial advantages, patronage partisanship, and sectarian issues.8 W hether or not the citizenry should be informed, by whom, and in what ways seemed to have no immediate relevance. Americans were thoroughly prepared for the idea to take hold— intellectually, culturally, socially— but throughout the 1750s concern for an informed citizenry remained latent. Between 1763 and 1775, the idea o f an informed citizenry was activated. The catalyst was a series o f parliamentary acts and administrative policies the British initiated in their efforts to reform the imperial system. T he new British measures, which affected overseas trade, imported consumer goods, western lands, newspapers, and all legal transactions, aroused repeated protests from the elite political classes in the colonies. Planters and mer­ chants were joined by almost everyone with a college degree or a claim to gentry status as well as master tradesmen like shipbuilders, printers, and iron masters. W hen these self-styled gentlemen sought to mobilize opposition to the measures via legislative resolutions, public meetings, newspapers, and pamphlets, they discovered the importance o f the idea o f an informed citi­ zenry. They seized and elevated to prominence a concept that had hitherto

Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty lain inert in the background o f W hig thought. W hat had been merely a last resort o f liberty in Radical W hig doctrine was suddenly o f central practical as well as theoretical importance. The unself-conscious, only pardy deliberate way in which the idea emerged into prominence is evident in Boston’s Radical W hig politics. Alm ost without exception, the men who led Boston and Massachusetts into the Revolution did not see themselves as social or political innovators before 1775. As in the other colonies, they were mosdy men o f affairs who enjoyed the privileges o f gentility and backed the social order as it was. From their perspecdve, the British m inistry and Parliament, not themselves, were the sources o f innovadon. Indeed, when Boston’s leaders first began to protest British innovations in tax law and administration, they generally confined their discussion o f grievances to legislative chambers and the occasional newspaper essay or pamphlet. They intended to include within the bound­ aries o f legislative debate a lim ited audience o f gendemen only, not the pub­ lic at large. But a significant exception occurred at the public Boston town meeting o f M ay 1764, at which the assembled voters and other inhabi­ tants— a socially inclusive gathering o f free men— discussed and then ap­ proved a remonstrance against the Revenue Act o f 1764.9 Conscious that their protest would find more support in the town meeting than in the province legislature, the “gendemen’’ merchants who felt the grievance most keenly brought their case into this inclusive local forum. W hat was unusual here, though not unprecedented, was the fact that a town meeting, which was norm ally concerned with local administration and finances, had been employed to engage a broad array o f citizens in rendering a judgm ent on im­ perial policy. It is unlikely that any o f those who supported this tactical move in 1764— even Samuel Adams— was completely aware o f its full implications. By bringing the issue out o f the closed, exclusive, centralized forum o f the legis­ lature and into the open, inclusive local town meeting, Boston W higs did more than gain a m ajority vote. Indirecdy and apparendy without specific intention, they resorted to the model o f political action that would soon dominate the resistance movement— that is, an appeal extending beyond the time-honored circles o f political gendemen to include all men who held property and even many who did not. The Radical W hig gendemen who led Boston politics were discovering in 1764 what leaders in other colonies would soon recognize: that by engaging the citizenry-at-large in their protests, their opposition became formidable to the royal administrations in their colonies and perhaps even to the m inistry and Parliament.10 The recog-

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Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty nition o f this political reality, more than any other single factor, convinced revolutionary leaders, who had not previously devoted much attention to the subject, that an informed citizenry was a vital matter o f practical politics. The revolutionaries came to appreciate both the practical and theoretical importance o f an informed citizenry. M ost immediately, practical politics re­ quired that citizens be properly informed, that is, indoctrinated in the facts and interpretations that would reinforce support for resistance measures. M ore generally, they should be informed concerning W hig theory in the manner that W illiam Livingstons Independent Reflector had prescribed so that they would always know their rights and not fall prey to the machina­ tions o f tyrants. To achieve that goal, John Adams, the obscure young coun­ try lawyer who burned to distinguish him self by serving his country, published an unsigned, untided, four-part essay in the Boston Gazette in 1765. In it, Adams both elaborated and went beyond the themes that Livingston had proclaimed a decade earlier in New York. So powerful and evocative was Adams's rhetoric that Thom as H ollis, the English Radical W hig, tided the essay UA Dissertation on the Canon and Feudal Law” and had it republished late in 1765 in the London Chronicle and in 1768 as a sepa­ rate pamphlet.11 This "D issertation,” which was aimed direedy at the Stamp Act, examined fam iliar Radical W hig historical and political ideas, with an emphasis on the need for an informed, knowledgeable cidzenry. Adams began with a quotation from the widely read, liberal English di­ vine, Bishop John Tillotson, who had said that "Ignorance and Inconsidera­ tion are the two great Causes o f the Ruin o f M ankind.” For Adams, this maxim conveyed powerful political implications. In the "early Ages o f the W orld,” Adams explained, when absolute monarchy was "the universal form o f G overnm ent,. . . the People. . . were litde h igh er. . . in the scale o f in­ telligence than the Camells and Asses and Elephants.”12 In contrast, history demonstrated "that whenever, a general Knowledge and sensibility have pre­ vailed among the People, Arbitrary Governm ent and every kind o f oppres­ sion have lessened and disappeared in Proportion.”13 H istory proved that the connection between tyranny and ignorance was just as strong as that be­ tween liberty and learning. In the minds o f Radical W higs like Adams, the Protestant Reformation was the crucial dividing line in modern history. Before Luther and Calvin, an alliance between monarchies and the Roman Catholic Church main­ tained popular obedience through popular ignorance. The chains o f church and state kept "the M inds o f the People” in "a State o f Sordid Ignorance and staring T im id ity,. . . infusing into them a religious Horror o f Letters and

Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty Knowledge o f every K ind.” Bound by feudal tenure to follow their lords “wherever they commanded, and in a state o f total Ignorance,” the people for centuries saw no alternative to tyranny. “Ignorant as they were o f Arts and Letters,” they “could not frame and support a regular system o f opposi­ tion.” But the Reformation cracked the iron grip o f oppression so that “Knowledge gradually increased, and spread among the People,” until, by the time o f the Stuarts, tyranny was forced to retreat.14 The Puritans who founded New England represented the culmination o f this historic process. Adams noted that the king him self had recognized “that they were more intelligent, and better read than even the members o f the Church.” For this reason, Charles I and his officials persecuted Puritans “for no other crime than their knowledge, and their freedom o f enquiry and ex­ am ination.” 15 Adams celebrated the founders o f New England as heroes in the historic struggle for knowledge and liberty. “ Intelligent in general, and m any o f them learned,” they had left libraries to posterity “ in which the wis­ dom o f the most enlightned [sic\ ages and nations is deposited,” though written in languages that, sadly, “their great Grand sons can scarcely read.”16 The founders had been fully aware o f the difficulties o f perpetuating an informed citizenry, as Adams’s interjection about grandsons suggested, and had therefore made institutional provisions for its maintenance. They estab­ lished fee simple land tenure because it would create a yeomanry with “a very general contempt and detestation o f holdings by quit rents.”17 This New England yeomanry possessed “an hereditary ardor for liberty and thirst for knowledge”18 that was undergirded by the schools and colleges Puritan lead­ ers had established by law. “The education o f all ranks o f people was made the care and expence o f the public,”19 Adams explained. “To propagate and perpetuate knowledge,” Puritan setders not only set an example in their own time but created lasting foundations. Warming to the subject, Adams ex­ claimed “that they have left among their posterity, so universal an affection for those seminaries [Harvard, Yale], and for liberal education, that the meanest o f people contribute chearfully to the support and maintenance o f them .”20 According to “A Dissertation on the Canon and Feudal Law,” an informed citizenry, maintained from common school to college, was New England’s glorious heritage. But why, then, among such an enlightened people, was liberty in danger? Here Adams sketched a portrait o f Mandevillean malevolence that must have resonated with such English Radical W higs as Thom as H ollis. “There has been among us a party for some years,” Adams charged, “consisting chiefly not o f the descendants o f the first setders o f this country but o f high church-

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Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty men and high statesmen, imported since.” These worldly interlopers were tearing at the institutional fabric that preserved New England’s liberty. T h ey “affect to censure this provision for the education o f our youth as a needless expence, and imposition upon the rich in favour o f the poor.” T h e school system that defended New England liberties by educating its people was now being denounced “as an institution productive o f idleness and vain specula­ tion among the people, whose time and attention it is said ought to be de­ voted to labour, and not to public affairs or to examination into the conduct o f their superiours.” In short, liberty and its companion, an enlightened cit­ izenry, were in danger because this “p arty. . . and certain officers o f the crown, and certain other missionaries o f ignorance, foppery, servility and slavery” were actively defiling New England’s hard-won, sacred heritage.21 Here Adams presented the issue in stark political terms. It was important that the people possess general knowledge in order to understand natural philosophy and religious truth and maintain a decent level o f civility, but more immediately, it was absolutely critical that they acquire knowledge in order to participate in politics. “The people,” Adams proclaimed, “have a right, an indisputable, unalienable, indefeasible divine right to that most dreaded and envied kind o f knowledge, I mean o f the characters and con­ duct o f their rulers.”22 This was not an informed citizenry educated in the docile servitude o f high church catechisms; it was a politically informed citi­ zenry that knew its rights and jealously defended them. O n this point, Adams was adamant: “The preservation o f the means o f knowledge among the lowest ranks, is o f more importance to the public, than all the property o f all the rich men in the country.”1* The argument that the rich should not be taxed to pay for poor mens education was nonsense; since public liberty protected their property, the rich ought “to contribute in the same propor­ tion.”24 Liberty itself was at stake for the rich no less than for the poor. In “ Dissertation,” Adams’s panegyric to the Puritan settlers o f New England and the institutions they founded began with a firm grounding in historical fact: the public education laws and the creation o f Harvard College in the 1630s. But when he put the final part o f his institutional argument into place— an assertion o f the necessity o f free speech and press— he replaced the historical record o f orthodox authoritarianism that was actually New England’s official seventeenth-century policy with fictions o f enlightened liberality. “None o f the means o f information are more sacred, or have been cherished with more tenderness and care,” he announced, “than the Press.”25 It was true, o f course, that the Massachusetts Bay General C ourt had, with the publishing o f religious and government publications in mind, sponsored

Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty the establishment o f a press in the 1630s; but on this foundation, Adams erected a free press tradition. Ignoring the actual censorship practiced by this government-sponsored printing office, as well as the fact that Puritan magis­ trates sw iftly suppressed Bostons first newspaper in 1690, Adams asserted that “care has been taken that the art o f printing should be encouraged, and that it should be easy and cheap and safe for any person to communicate his thoughts to the public." Com pleting his transformation o f New England’s actual legacy to make it conform to Radical W hig principles, Adams admon­ ished his fellow countrymen not to be “intim idated. . . from publishing w ith the utmost freedom, whatever can be warranted by the laws o f your country, nor suffer yourselves to be wheedled out o f your liberty, by any pre­ tences o f politeness, delicacy or decency.”26 The British must never be per­ m itted to believe that Americans were, as their enemies had represented them, “an ignorant, a tim id and a stupid people.”27 The best course o f action was to cultivate, stimulate, and set in motion New England’s informed citizenry. Adams’s vision was comprehensive. “ Let us,” he exhorted, “tenderly and kindly cherish. . . the means o f knowledge.” His concern was not directed at any one class o f people but at all citizens, at least all free men: “ Let every order and degree among the people rouse their attention and animate their resolution. Let them all become attentive to the grounds and principles o f government, ecclesiastical and civil. Let us study the law o f nature; search into the spirit o f the British constitution; read the histories o f ancient ages; contemplate the great examples o f Greece and Rome; set before us the conduct o f our own British ancestors,. . . [and] our own more immediate fore fathers.”28 Since the liberties o f all were at stake, the responsibility for defending liberty belonged to everyone. A t the same time, however, those who dispensed knowledge at the bar, in colleges, and in the pulpit, “the proper patrons and supporters o f law, learning and religion,” bore a special obligation to disseminate an understanding o f law and liberty among the people at large. Ultimately, Adams’s vision o f the informed citi­ zenry in 1765 was hierarchical, with the learned few broadcasting knowledge to the many. W ith this goal in mind, he concluded by declaring that “every sluice o f knowledge be open’d and set a flowing.”29 For colonial opponents o f the Stamp Act, Adams’s arguments touched a sensitive nerve. Adams him self had declared that this act o f Parliament was deliberately “form’d to strip us in a great measure o f the means o f knowledge, by loading the Press, the Colleges, and even an Almanack and a News-Paper, with restraints and duties.”*0 Although economic distress, as noted in Adams’s locally influential Braintree Resolves o f O ctober 1765, together with

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Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty the larger principle o f uno taxation without representation” were the c h ie f arguments against the Stamp Act, Adams had elevated the issue o f an in­ formed citizenry to a prominent place in Radical W hig discourse. A t the the­ oretical as well as the practical level, Adams’s “ Dissertation” voiced a new recognition o f the need to engage the general citizenry in imperial politics. O f course, no avalanche o f rhetorical pronouncements or specific mea­ sures occurred in New England or elsewhere in 1765 and the ensuing years to mark this new consciousness. But a few significant milestones emerged. In November 1764, when members o fV irgin ias House o f Burgesses were voic­ ing opposition to the recent Revenue Act, they voted to erect a public gallery in their legislative chamber to permit newspaper reporters and the public to learn the substance o f their debates. Now, in the wake o f the Stamp A ct, Massachusetts followed. In M ay 1766 the Boston town meeting instructed its representatives to “make the debates in the house o f representatives as public as those in the House o f Com m ons in Great Britain,” and in June the legislature accommodated the request by adding a public gallery.31 “So Noble a School o f Political Learning,” John Adams believed, would encour­ age a “spirit o f virtue.”32 W hat Boston’s Radical W higs had begun in the town meeting o f M ay 1764— engaging the public in imperial politics— was developing into a new orthodoxy. Allowing the public to attend legislative debates and permitting newspa­ per accounts o f those debates to circulate among the people, as had long been the practice in Britain, were important affirmations o f the belief in an informed citizenry. But in themselves they did not extend the actual bound­ aries o f an informed citizenry to include common householders. The process o f inclusion was less a question o f making procedural gestures like opening legislative debates to public view than it was a matter o f m obilizing ordinary men. In such a mobilization, the interaction o f ideology, events, and rhetoric proved crucial. The Revenue and Stamp Acts energized the idea o f an in­ formed citizenry and began to broaden its scope, but the process was inter­ rupted and incomplete. The publication o f John Dickinson’s Lettersfrom a Farm er in Pennsylvania during the fall and winter o f 1767-68 propelled the idea forward. Like Adams’s “ Dissertation,” Dickinson’s Letters first appeared serially in a news­ paper, initially in Philadelphia and then in nineteen papers all along the east­ ern seaboard. By the time it was published as a pamphlet, Dickinson’s Letters was a sensation, having reached tens o f thousands o f readers, a more exten­ sive audience than any other political writer had ever reached with a single effort in the colonies.33

Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty The unexpected and unprecedented appeal o f D ickinsons Letters was based on three interrelated elements: its tim ing, its content as political argu­ ment, and its rhetorical approach. O f these, the argument and the rhetoric were most important since the writings o f many other contemporary colo­ nial newspaper spokesmen kindled no such flame. W hat made Dickinsons constitutional argument so attractive was his readiness to combine a seem­ ingly conciliatory doctrine o f loyalty to Britain— accepting parliamentary regulation o f external affairs including trade and foreign relations— with an unequivocal denial o f Parliam ents right to tax the unrepresented American colonies. Dickinsons reasoning promised the colonists exactly what they wanted— participation in the imperial commercial system as well as conti­ nuity with the pre-1763 status quo on taxation and provincial government.34 H ad British leaders been ready to accept D ickinsons position instead o f ridi­ culing it, the conflict could have been resolved to the satisfaction o f most po­ litically active colonists.35 Yet even though Dickinson’s argument possessed the essential ingredient for popularity, being a clever formulation o f existing but not yet fully articu­ lated beliefs, it was his rhetorical strategy that propelled Letters toward its exceptional popularity. Em ploying an epistolary style borrowed from innova­ tive and widely read novelists such as Samuel Richardson, Dickinson in­ vented for him self an ideal persona for appealing to prosperous American planters, merchants, farmers, and professional men.36 From the gracious in­ form ality o f his opening line, “M y Dear Countrym en, I am a Farm er seu\eA after a variety o f fortunes near the banks o f the river D elaware, in the province o f Pennsylvania,” to his closing affirm ation, “I am resolved to contend for the liberty delivered down to me by m y ancestors; but whether I shall do it effec­ tually or not, depends on you, my countrym en,” Dickinson’s voice was direct, familiar, and m orally engaged. D eftly m ixing the vocabularies o f feeling ("alarm ing,” “dreadful,” “fervent,” “miserable,” “love,” and “rage”) and o f constitutional rights (“authority,” “duty,” “freedom,” “ institutions,” “obedi­ ence,” “privilege,” “regulation,” and “violation”), the sober Pennsylvania farmer invited his readers to share his sense o f injustice.37 Central to the legitim acy and authority o f the farmer was his self-pro­ claimed stature as an independent, informed citizen, which he announced in the opening paragraph o f his first letter. “I received a liberal education and have been engaged in the busy scenes o f life,” he explained, “ but am now con­ vinced, that a man may be as happy without busde as with it.” The farmer was no rustic but an educated gendeman who had deliberately retired to a rural setting, where, he said, “m y farm is small, m y servants are few and good,

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Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty [and] I have a litde money at interest.” Disclaim ing all ambition— “ I wish fo r no more”— and dwelling for from the world o f patronage and privilege, Dickinson’s farmer embodied the political ideal o f personal independence. But the farmer was not only independent, he was informed. Building on his liberal education, and “being generally master o f m y time, I spend a good deal o f it in a library, which I think the most valuable part o f m y small es­ tate.” Through his reading and conversations with “two or three gendemen o f abilities and learning,” the humer conceded, he had achieved “a greater knowledge in history and the laws and constitution o f my country, than is generally attained by men o f my class, many o f them not being so fortunate as I have been in the opportunities o f getting inform ation.”’ 8 T his gendeman former did not mean to boast— he had merely been “fortunate” in his retirement— but his modesty did not conceal his self-assurance. The idealized construction o f Dickinsons informed cidzen, a gendeman with whom all sorts o f actual and aspiring colonial gendemen could identify, combined with his novelisdc diction to give Letters from a Farm er in Penn­ sylvania its extraordinary influence. In contrast to Adams’s “ Dissertation on the Canon and Feudal Law,” instead o f making the argument for an informed citizenry, Dickinson appealed to the idea by personifying it while capitalizing on its general prevalence among the politically active. Although Dickinson was more conservative than Adams in the sense that he paid no particular at­ tention to the common people as informed defenders o f liberty, his writing reached a broader segment o f literate Americans than any previous political tract and thus, both in substance and impact, marked an im portant stage in the enhancement o f the ideology o f the informed cidzen. By 1770, when Parliament placated the colonies by repealing most o f the Townshend duties, which the Pennsylvania former had opposed, the impor­ tance o f an informed cidzenry was widely appreciated. The structure o f the polidcal conflict had, to a significant degree, dictated that Radical W higs would use the idea to jusdfy their mobilization o f the general populace. Since royal officials saw no threat to liberty in imperial policy, promoting colonists’ access to political information was less important to them than strengthening British political ties, a strategy that was both practical and congruent with the ideology o f parliamentary and Crown supremacy over the colonies. Radical W higs in the colonies also tried lobbying in Britain, but they found it a discouraging experience and therefore looked more and more to mobilizing their own constituents. Although few contemporaries recognized fully the long-term implications o f this alteration in the structure o f politics, the active engagement o f common farmers and tradesmen pro-

Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty foundly changed the character o f public life. Increasingly, the beliefe o f com­ mon people were beginning to influence events, sometimes decisively. As Benjam in Franklin argued in 1773, "M uch o f the Strength o f Government depends on the O pinion o f the People.”39 T he idea o f an informed citizenry became inseparable in certain respects from the emerging conception o f public opinion, a force that came to be rec­ ognized as powerful and unruly. Because the inform ation that circulated publicly shaped public opinion, partisans on both sides o f the imperial conflict searched for ways to influence it. Controlling a newspaper was one time-honored approach; in Massachusetts, the royal lieutenant governor, Thom as Hutchinson, secredy sponsored a newspaper, the Censor, hoping to reinforce government support among the commercial and political elite without arousing still more o f the popular engagement in politics that the royal administration believed was both dangerous and illegitimate. But after less than a year (1769-70), Hutchinson and his associates gave up the pro­ ject.40 Thereafter, they would rely more on the levers o f authority and pa­ tronage and less on public opinion, except insofar as it could be influenced by appeals to deference com ing from the lips o f such learned and respected officials as the governor, judges, and justices o f the peace.41 O wing to a mix­ ture o f ideological considerations— the British administration did not be­ lieve in an active citizenry— and pragmatic calculations as to how best to enhance their power, royal officials sought to influence public opinion by shows o f authority and by the power o f their London connections, not by a broad program o f inform ing the public. In Massachusetts, the Radical W higs moved in precisely the opposite di­ rection. In M arch 177 1, the Boston town meeting voted to commemorate the Boston Massacre with an annual oration that would “ impress upon our minds the ruinous tendency o f standing Armies in Free Cities, and the ne­ cessity o f such noble exertions in all future times . . . whereby the designs o f the Conspirators against the public liberty may still be frustrated.”42 These orations, which continued through 1785, provided basic instruction in Radical W hig ideology to several thousand auditors annually. Every year, the speeches were subsequendy published as pamphlets, thus their political in­ struction circulated beyond Boston’s immediate environs.43 O ne town, Braintree, copied Bostons example by voting to set up its own "oration or lecture in some branch o f Governm ent,” to be given by a college graduate, in the first instance, John Adams.44 For the most “advanced” Radical W higs, the development o f an informed citizenry— informed according to correct principles— had become an urgent priority.

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Bulwark o f Revolutionary Liberty But for most o f Massachusetts, not to mention the rest o f the colonies, the issue o f an informed citizenry remained comparatively abstract and re­ mote. To counter this inattention, Samuel Adams conceived the idea o f th e Boston Com m ittee o f Correspondence in 1772. The impetus for the creation o f the committee was the royal administration’s decision to include th e salaries o f the judges o f the Massachusetts Superior C ourt o f Judicature o n the government’s civil list, which meant that they would be paid b y Parliament rather than the Massachusetts legislature. However, the larger purpose o f the committee was to create a general political awakening in Massachusetts. The pamphlet that the committee produced, which the Boston town meeting voted to print and distribute to the province’s 260 towns and districts, was a basic textbook o f Radical W hig political theory. This “ Boston Pamphlet,” as it came to be called, began with a Lockean statement o f natural rights. It went on to explain British constitutional rights generally, especially safeguards against tyranny, before concluding with a detailed list o f grievances against the royal government in Boston and the imperial government in London. Stricdy speaking, the “ Boston Pam­ phlet” brought little o f substance that was new to the ongoing controversy between the friends o f government and the Radical W higs. W hat was novel was the concept o f collectively instructing the broad mass o f “voters and in­ habitants” through the local town meetings they attended. The pamphlet was written in clear, accessible prose, free o f Latin phrases, and was intended both to circulate among local leaders and to be read aloud, which it often was, in town meetings.45 Boston’s invitation to every town to consider the pamphlet and to issue statements o f local political sentiments generated an unprecedented volume o f grassroots political expression. Scores o f town meetings took up the pro­ posal, appointing local committees to draft statements and then form ally voting on whether these statements expressed their communities’ views. The statements were then transmitted to Boston, where during the first h alf o f 1773 they were printed in the Boston Gazette week after week.46 Q uite delib­ erately, the activities o f the Boston Com m ittee o f Correspondence were cre­ ating the kind o f politically informed yeoman citizenry that John Adams’s “ Dissertation” had idealized. Whereas Dickinson’s learned farmer had in­ structed property holders in political principles and constitutional law, the Boston committee engaged local notables as well as common farmers and tradesmen in a colloquy so that a broad, popular political education would occur in town meetings. W hen a New York W hig complained to a member o f the Boston Com m ittee o f Correspondence about the obstacles to mobi-

Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty lizing opinion in that colony, the Bostonian responded sharply: “You com­ plain o f the ignorance o f the common people, you may as well complain o f the roughness o f a desart [í /V]! O ur people would have known as litde as yours had we taken as litde pains to instruct them.”47 T he strenuous efforts o f the Boston Com m ittee o f Correspondence, to­ gether with the resolutions o f nearly 150 towns, could not alter royal policy regarding the salaries o f the judges o f the superior court, but they did propel the idea o f an informed citizenry toward realization in Radical W hig terms am ong the wide range o f men who pardcipated in town meeting politics.4* Several years later, in the spring o f 1776, Samuel Adams would recall that when apathy and inattention to public affairs had seemed to prevail in Massachusetts, the Boston Com m ittee o f Correspondence had “raised the Spirits o f the People, drawn o ff their attention from picking up pins, and di­ rected their Views to great objects.”49 From the perspective o f Radical W higs, an informed citizenry was effectively one that was active in defense o f constitutional rights. By the summer o f 1773, one notion o f an informed citizenry had emerged from the vocal expressions o f the Massachusetts towns. But elsewhere in the colonies, the importance o f the principle o f an informed citizenry, and the actual presence o f such a citizenry, was less clearly established. Dickinsons Letters had been prompted by the Townshend Acts, and following their re­ peal, little attention had been paid to the subject o f an informed citizenry outside o f Massachusetts. O nly after colonial leaders learned the provisions o f the Tea Act in the autumn o f 1773 did they generally seek to mobilize op­ position. As in the earliest protests against the Revenue and Stamp Acts, the Tea Act resistance was initially concentrated in the commercial communities o f the m ajor ports and focused narrowly on nullifying the provisions o f the Tea Act, not the long-term question o f the value o f an informed citizenry. Indeed, even after the Boston Tea Party and the ensuing mobilization o f continental resistance to the Coercive Acts in 1774, self-conscious attention to an informed citizenry commanded litde direct concern. In pan, this was because British measures made it easy for Radical W higs to organize opposi­ tion in the legislative bodies they came to control and to shape public opin­ ion through newspapers, speeches, and resolutions. To the extent that they needed an informed citizenry, during 1774 and 1775 Radical W higs felt they had one. Moreover, as time went on, they faced dim inishing competition for local and colony-level control. The only political competition they encoun­ tered came from leaders whose conceptions o f political order were based on a common citizenry that was informed to be deferential and obedient rather

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Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty than querulous and challenging. T he broadest effort these loyalist leaders could imagine to inform the citizenry was to publish pamphlets, which they did. Such authors as Jonathan Boucher, Jam es Chalm ers, Joseph Gallow ay, Daniel Leonard, and Samuel Seabury tried to persuade the colonists o f the wisdom o f restraint. They sought in 1775 and 1776 to inform the citizenry from a more prudent and cautious perspective. But their writings circulated narrowly in the colonies because at the time they appeared, neither their m onitory tone nor their usually pragmatic arguments possessed wide appeal. None o f these writers who urged submission to Parliament spoke the lan­ guage o f reactionary or even conservative populism in arguing their cases. Rather, they delivered conservative messages from conservative postures. This is not surprising since most o f their Radical W hig opponents were sim ilarly conventional and also delivered their views in a genteel, educated voice. But the work o f one pamphleteer exploded like a comet when it struck the colonies in 1776— that o f Thom as Paine. Paine’s anonymous pamphlet, Common Sense, appeared first in Philadelphia in January 1776 and was then reprinted up and down the coast until by the end o f the year it had gone through nineteen American editions, with a total o f perhaps 150,000 copies printed.50 Both in form and in content, Common Sense was a new phenomenon. The innovations in Paine’s pamphlet presumed an audience o f politically interested common men, not an elevated citizenry o f gendemen and masters o f businesses. Placing him self on an equal footing with common citizens, the author chose a stance that would enable him to speak to his audience on a level plane without flourishes. In Common Sense, there was none o f John D ickinsons polite condescension or the “ Boston Pamphlet” s stem formal­ ity. Instead, Paine addressed his readers as one common man using everyday language and homely illustrations to speak to other common men. The lan­ guage and tone that some college-educated Radical W higs, like John Adams, rejected as vulgar in Common Sense were actually keys to its influence. Repetition o f the word “bloody” and references to W illiam the Conqueror as a “ French bastard” offended genteel taste, but it was just this kind o f bold, plain language that gave Common Sense its pungent magnetism. T he substance o f Common Sense was even more o f a departure because in­ stead o f attacking particular violations o f the vaunted British constitution, it laid an axe to the entire political system, root and branch, pronouncing it too rotten, too corrupt to ever be corrected. Paine’s solution, obviously, was total independence, not some kind o f patched-up accommodation. T he time to act was now, when American human and natural resources were sufficient

Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty and Britain, beset by decay and corruption, was in a weakened state. As Paine viewed it, the present was the optimum time to act in a struggle that could only end in American victory. Like the Pennsylvania humer a decade earlier, Paine told his audience what it wanted to hear at a time when no "responsi­ ble” W hig was ready to embrace warfare with such cheerful enthusiasm. The vigor o f Paine’s arguments, which displayed more ardor than logic, enhanced their appeal. The fact that Paine also vented moral outrage, re­ proaching Britain angrily as a selfish, tyrannical parent, also struck a respon­ sive chord.51 For a decade, Americans had been trying conscientiously to find a way to reconcile their rights and their interests with loyalty to Britain; but in 1775 the king had classed them as rebels subject to m ilitary conquest. Common Sense depicted a corrupt and haughty Britain making war on plain, well-meaning, honest Americans. British policy was outrageous. Paine’s pamphlet was oriented toward a literate but not well-educated, well-inform ed, or critically sophisticated audience. Yet it mobilized American men as never before. Its extensive circulation— into perhaps 100,000 house­ holds in 1776— is clear evidence that the idea o f common men being politi­ cally informed enjoyed general currency. N o longer, it seemed, would it be necessary to argue that the citizenry should be informed, as Radical W higs had done since 1765; the extraordinary popularity o f Common Sense proved that common men embraced this beliefwidely. But the success o f the idea and its apparent realization in 1776 raised some complicated questions. W hat, ex­ actly, should gentlemen and common men know, and how should they be in­ formed? There was no consensus on what being informed meant. D uring the surge o f patriotic ardor that sustained American public life from Lexington and Concord through the Declaration o f Independence, only a few revolutionary leaders recognized the concept o f an informed citi­ zenry as a pressing issue. But their thoughts prefigured debates that would lie ahead. John Adams saw dangers in Common Sense itself because, although he applauded Paine’s proindependence conclusion, the pamphlet attacked the notion o f balanced government that Adams regarded as essential for preserv­ ing liberty. Paine had misinformed his vast audience by misrepresenting the British constitution and by rejecting principles that would be vital to the fu­ ture o f the American republic. From John Adams’s perspective, Common Sense was a useful but dangerous pamphlet because it rejected time-tested principles o f constitutional liberty in favor o f naive democratic ideas like uni­ cameralism.52 Such ill-inform ed rhetoric, Adams believed, was pernicious. But in 1776, few revolutionary leaders shared Adams’s fastidious concerns. Instead, it was the m ajor themes relating to the conception o f an informed

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Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty citizenry, ideas that Adams had laid out in UA Dissertation on the Canon and Feudal Law,” that were widely expressed. Tyranny was bound up with luxury, corruption, and ignorance. M onarchy was said to require an ignorant popu­ lation, whereas republics could survive only if their citizens were inform ed. The revolutionary struggle pitted republican industry against m onarchical idleness, virtue against vice, and knowledge against ignorance. As the provin­ cial congress o f Massachusetts succincdy proclaimed in January 1776, using language composed by John Adams him self “As a government so popular can be supported only by universal knowledge and virtue, in the body o f the people, it is the duty o f all ranks to promote the means o f education for the rising generation, as well as true religion, purity o f manners, and integrity o f life among all orders and degrees.” The congress ordered that this resolution be read at every court opening and every annual town meeting and urged the clergy o f Massachusetts to read it to their congregations alter the next Sunday service.53 Later that year, Pennsylvania and North Carolina, acting from sim ilar motives, would each include a provision for the support o f pub­ lic schools and universities in their new constitutions.54 The necessity o f a virtuous and informed citizenry was officially recognized as a fundamental principle o f this republican revolution. It was easy enough to affirm and publicize the vital importance o f an in­ formed citizenry in revolutionary assemblies, where the idea was supported by general consensus. For many revolutionary leaders, this idea was only one dimension o f long-held Radical W hig, Protestant, and Enlightenm ent be­ liefs. The chief function o f legislative resolutions was to raise to prominence some o f the latent assumptions o f mid-eighteenth-century American politi­ cal culture. However, with this heightened recognition o f the need for an in­ formed citizenry came the realization that ways and means must be found to implement the idea in practical terms. Once the process o f form ing republi­ can governments was under way, it became evident that reliance on an in­ formed citizenry was so crucial that systematic steps must be taken to assure its existence among the broad base o f common property holders. Enunciating principles was a necessary first step, but it was not sufficient in itself. Measures must be taken to make an informed citizenry a permanent feature o f the new society. In states like Massachusetts and Connecticut, which already supported common and grammar schools in addition to their colleges, Harvard and Yale, new institutions were not required. W hat was needed was a fresh com­ mitment to the old ones. Indeed, everywhere exhortation was cheaper and

Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty easier than innovation. T he institutions that could nourish an informed citizenry— the family, the church, the press, and the post office, as well as schools— were promoted rhetorically. Samuel Adams laid out some o f the key arguments as early as November 1775 after he learned “that some o f our Towns have dismissd [sic[ their School masters, alleging that the extraordinary Expence o f defending the C ountry renders them unable to support them.” T his was wrongheaded, Adams declared, and he urged “the leading Gentle­ men [to] do eminent Service to the Publick, by impressing upon the M inds o f the People, the necessity and Importance o f encouraging that System o f Education, which . . . is so well calculated to diffuse among the Individuals o f the Com m unity, the Principles o f Morality, so essentially necessary for the Preservation o f publick Liberty.” Adams spoke with a sense o f urgency, both for the present and for perpetuity: uN o People w ill tamely surrender their Liberties, nor can they easily be subdued, when Knowledge is diffusd [sic\ and Virtue preserved.”55 A free press was no less im portant than schools. As early as O ctober 1774, the Continental Congress spelled out exaedy w hy it was so critical, explaining that “ besides the advancement o f truth, science, morality, and arts in general, in its diffusion o f liberal sentiments on the administration o f Governm ent, its ready communication o f thoughts between subjects, and its consequential promotion o f union among them,” the press “shamed or intimidated” public officials into behaving properly.5* Moreover, because, as Thom as Paine put it, the press’s influence “over our manners and morals” was so extensive, the issue o f its control was vital.57 W hen George Mason and Thom as Jefferson pre­ pared Virginias Declaration o f Rights in 1776, they emphasized that “freedom o f the Press is one o f the greatest bulwarks o f liberty” and that “printing presses shall be free.”58 Linking an informed citizenry to a free press, a Congregational clergyman declared that a flee press was an “eminent instrument o f promot­ ing knowledge, and great palladium [protection] o f public liberty. ^ T he institution o f the post office was another necessity for an informed citizenry. D uring the Revolutionary War, Thom as Jefferson complained that “so many falsehoods have been propagated that nothing is now believed” unless it came with a pedigree. As a result, “our people merely for want o f in­ telligence which they may rely on are becoming lethargick and insensible.” In light o f this wartime experience, leaders like Jefferson, Adams, and other congressmen came to recognize that “the speedy and frequent communica­ tion o f intelligence is really o f great consequence”*0 and that a post office, though usually financed by trade correspondence, was a political require­ ment even more than a commercial one.

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Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty Revolutionary leaders everywhere recognized that social and political in­ stitutions must play crucial roles in the formation o f an inform ed citizenry. A t the same time, however, nearly all institutions had problems that were more intractable and entirely different from the logistical obstacles that in­ terfered with the prompt, reliable operation o f the post office. Churches, for example, had long been viewed by leaders from all points o f the political compass— whether monarchist or republican— as fundamental agencies for promoting the m orality and enforcing the integrity that Radical W higs, now republicans, understood to be vital to the new political order. But whereas monarchists could rely on established churches to not only instruct the people in m orality in the parishes but also control the schools, colleges, and universities, republicans were moving to end religious establishm ents/1 Terminating the institutional arrangements connecting church and su te put moral education in jeopardy. Am ong some New England clergymen who were otherwise enthusiastic supporters o f the Revolution, fears mounted: “ Let the restraints o f religion once be broken down, as they infallibly would be by leaving the subject o f public worship to the humors o f the m ultitude,” a Massachusetts preacher warned the legislature, “and we might well defy all human wisdom and power to support and preserve order and government in the su te.”61 This was not groundless panic; all o f recorded history seemed to prove that order and m orality required the integmtion o f church, su te, and schooling. The unconverted, utionalistic John Adams, imbued as he was with New England traditions, believed that these links were necessary to maintain personal and social m orality/3 But the tendency o f the sutes, now heed from British control, was to deny any one church the sole or even prim ary responsibility for educating children and youth /4 Instead, the sutes turned first to the family, falling back on that most basic and tmditional agency o f order. Even in sutes like Pennsylvania and North Carolina, where revolutionary constitutions pre­ scribed the esublishm ent o f public schools, attendance was voluntary and parents were expected to pay their children’s tuition costs. The combination o f serious concern for education with the reality o f institutional disam y was illustuted by the difficulties that revolutionary leaders encountered as they tried to provide the best and most suiuble education for their own chil­ dren— m osdy boys but also girls— before and during the war. N ot only did these parents, principally fathers, have to devise curricula for their children, they also had to contrive the means o f their instruction. O utside o f New England, education was a highly individualized u th er than a communal un­ dertaking, and there were no well-worn paths to follow.

Bulwark ofRevolutionary Liberty In England, educational goals were synchronized with a system o f social stratification that did not quite match American expectations at any level, from great planters and transadantic merchants to tradesmen and yeoman farmers. The British mixture o f objectives o f learning— ornament, public ser­ vice, gentility, and practical utility— never seemed to fit satisfactorily. Jam es M aury, the Anglican priest and V irginia schoolmaster who prepared Thom as Jefferson for the College o f W illiam and M ary in his log cabin schoolhouse and who gave the question o f a planters education considerable thought, concluded that none o f the English models suited the needs ofV irginians. T he “English Gentlem an o f the upper Class” as well as the “Nobleman” were far above material pursuits and thus could properly become deeply engaged in classical studies, leaving their “studious Leisure and Philosophic Repose” only to answer their country’s “pressing Calls” to public service. But V irginias leaders were enmeshed in material pursuits and considered it a waste o f time to study Greek and Latin. M aury did not completely renounce the study o f classical languages; he pointed out that some students, like young Jefferson, thrived on it. But for the m ajority o f V irginia planters’, lawyers’, and mer­ chants’ sons, he prescribed such “useful and necessary Studies, as English Grammar, reading, w riting, arithmetic, History, Geography, Chronology, the more practical Parts o f the Mathematics, Rhetoric, Eloquence & other Species o f polite & useful Learning” such as English literature. Thus edu­ cated, Virginians could improve their property, serve their country, speak in public assemblies, and engage in conversation that rose above the subjects o f cards, dice, horses, and cockfighting. The particular social roles and standing ofV irginians had no true British equivalents. As M aury concluded: “ Because the Genius o f our People, their Way o f Life, their Circumstances in Point o f Fortune, the Customs & Manners & Humors o f the Country, difference us in so many im portant Respects from Europeans,. . . a Plan o f Education, how­ ever judiciously adapted to these last would no more fit us, than an Almanac, calculated for the Latitude o f London, would that o f W illiam sburg.”6* Even before the imperial conflict turned the colonists toward independence, a recognition o f American distinctiveness was emerging in the search for new models o f an educated citizen. M aury’s judgments about education in Virginia and England were based on secular considerations, not morality. But for American parents, morals were often a paramount concern, and vanity and extravagance, i f not out­ right debauchery, came to be seen as hallmarks o f English education. As Landon Carter, a leading planter, remarked in 1770, “every body begins to laugh at English education” because it had become “the learning o f the fop-

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Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty pishncss o f the fancy.”66 Such ridicule was com bined w ith a sense o f anxiety as parents contem plated the proper education o f their children. T h e experiences o f H enry Laurens, the South C arolina patriot leader, are especially revealing because, as a widower, he had to supervise his daughters’ education as well as that o f his sons and because South C arolina possessed only scant provisions for any kind o f education. Conscquendy, Laurens’s pur­ suit o f his children s education, which was not lim ited by expense, showed that for even the m ost privileged Am ericans, institutional deficiencies, as well as the absence o f dear m odels, obstructed the form ation o f an inform ed citi­ zenry. Laurens’s difficulties dated from at least as early as 1763, when he at­ tempted to hire a teacher for Charleston s “provincial Free School,” which had been created by the colony’s legislature in 1712 . T h e teacher was expected to instruct children in “w riting, arithm etic, merchants accounts, navigation, surveying,” decim al fractions, and “other practical parts o f the M athe­ m atics.”67 But even w ith a teacher o f “sound m oral principles,” the school remained weak. N o history, geography, or foreign or classical languages were being taught. Seven years later, at which tim e Laurens’s oldest son was tutoring his eleven-year-old daughter in French and English grammar, Laurens com plained that his own colony was “perhaps the worst o ff at present for Schools o f any province in Am erica.”68 Laurens, who believed deeply in an elite version o f an inform ed citizenry, was m ortified by his fellow Carolinians’ unwillingness to support the institutions that were necessary to give it a decent foundation. “ T h e inhabitants o f South C arolina,” he lam ented, “ have alm ost totally neglected the education o f their Youth upon a Public founda­ tion.” C ontent to em ploy tutors and send their children abroad for educa­ tion, they had “refused upon divers applications even to en large. . . our pre­ sent little Provincial School, scarcely w orthy o f the name o f a School.”69 A t bottom , Laurens’s com plaint centered on the m oral costs o f sending children away for their education. T h e reason he was w illing to struggle “w ith some o f m y C ountry M en and Neighbours, as w ell in our litde Senate as out o f D oors,” was because he believed that m uch m ore than gold and sil­ ver were lost by exporting their children. “ We are,” he com plained, “de­ prived o f the principal Happiness which we can enjoy in this U fe, that o f seeing the daily Progress o f our children in Knowledge and V irtue, and o f a Consciousness that N othing on our Part has been om itted to restrain, to dis­ suade them from vicious and dishonourable Practices.” A local college, which Laurens insisted m ust be strictly nonsectarian, was needed to educate youth above the elem entary level. But the creation o f the U niversity o f South C arolina was a generation away.70

Bulwark o f Revolutionary Liberty A s a result, Laurens was forced to tread the path so m any other w ealthy South Carolinians had follow ed by educating his sons in England, where he encountered precisely the same kinds o f problem s in finding a suitable cur­ riculum and m oral environm ent that Jam es M aury and Landon C arter had described. Britain’s two fam ous universities, he learned, were "universally censured” ; indeed, "O xford in particular is spoken o f as a School for Licen­ tiousness and D ebauchery.” T h e private academies Laurens visited were also discouraging. "N o t one in ten,” he exclaim ed, was "good for any T h in g.”71 Finally, when Laurens did locate an acceptable school run by the Reverend Richard C larke, his concerns centered on personal character developm ent m ore than academ ic accom plishm ents: "Above all, I entreat you to keep him [his son] in due Subordination, to impress the Fear o f G od upon his M ind, to shew him the great difference between G ood and E vil, Truth and Error, between a useful and a fine man in Society.”72 M oral and academic training were inseparable in Laurens’s view, and both were essential to the form ation o f the "useful” m an, the inform ed citizen. Before independence, the scarcity and weaknesses o f public institutions for creating an inform ed citizenry were particularly glaring in South C ar­ olina. But once the w ar began, disruptions to academies and colleges made the South C arolina case more typical o f conditions throughout the colonies for at least several years. Such revolutionary republicans as Robert M orris o f Philadelphia and Joh n Adam s o f M assachusetts, w ho w ould previously have relied on dom estic institutions, now looked abroad and, like Laurens earlier, struggled to find the proper com bination o f m oral and academ ic training. But whereas Laurens had chosen England for his sons’ education before the w ar for independence, M orris and Adam s turned to the Continent, basing their decision on considerations beyond the obvious political reason o f being at w ar w ith Britain. W hat preoccupied R oben M orris and John Adam s above all was the social context and noncurricular content o f the entire educational experience. "T h ese Young G endem en,” R oben M orris remarked in 178 1, “are expected to pass their D ays in Am erica, under republican Governm ents, w h ere,. . . they m ay probably be o f some Political Consequence.”73 Accordingly, it was vital that their sons com bine academ ic and m oral training in order to acquire values consistent w ith the republican character o f the U nited States. These considerations led M orris to "prefer Geneva, where as I am told, the M anners o f the People are favorable to the Practice o f V irtue, and being a republic, I should suppose the Stile o f living m ay partake o f that Plainess, and Sim plicity, best adapted to such Governm ents.”74 For Joh n Adam s, who, un-

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Bulwark o f Revolutionary Liberty like M orris, did not live in Am erica at the rime but at his diplom atic m ission on the C ontinent and who also held the highest academ ic aspirations for the brilliant and precocious Joh n Q uincy Adam s, the choice was Leyden, the leading republican university in the w orld. H ete his father directed the thir­ teen-year-old boy in training to be a statesman not only to extract every bit o f learning he could from the great professors but also to inform h im self folly on the university’s operation, “and especially to rem ark every T h in g in it, that m ay be im itated, in the Universities o f your own C ountry."75 T h e ultim ate objective o f this foreign training was the building o f Am erican institutions. W artim e conditions had created a need to send the nations future leading citizens abroad, even though revolutionary leaders shared the Reverend Jam es M aury’s sense that a European education was incom patible w ith Am erican society, l o his second son, Charles, who remained in M assachusetts, John Adam s’s counsel was to “study earnestly, go to C ollcdge [rid and be an O rnam ent to your C ountry.” Adam s, who knew institutions on both sides o f the A tlantic firsthand, concluded that “education is better at Cam bridge [M assachusetts], than in Europe. Besides every C h ild ought to be educated in his own C ountry." Regarding his first son, Joh n Q uincy Adam s, he told his w ife, A bigail, “ I regret extream ly that [h e ]

is not to have his Education at

hom e.”76 T h e m ost learned professors at the oldest universities could not cre­ ate the m oral environm ent or attract the peer group that was best suited to re­ publican education. Adams’s colleague in diplom acy, Joh n Jay, drew sim ilar conclusions, argu­ ing that dom estic education was preferable because parents’ “Advice, A uthority and Exam ple are fiequendy o f m ore w orth than the Lessons o f hireling Professors, particularly on the subjects o f Religion, M orality, Virtue and Prudence." T h e wartim e experience w ith European institutions, like the prewar experience w ith British schools and universities, convinced Am er­ icans who were m ost knowledgeable that Am erican institutions m ust be de­ veloped. Ja y did adm it that a few subjects, like languages, could be better learned in Europe. But in a letter written from Paris to Robert M orris, Jay frankly declared that education was better in the United States than in Europe: “ I do not hesitate to prefer an Am erican Education. I fear that the Ideas which m y Countrym en in general conceive o f Europe are in m any Respects rather too high.”77 T h e republican preferences for virtue over ele­ gance and socially useful education over ornam ental education cast a shadow over European brilliance. Before the war, H enry Laurens had exclaim ed after bringing his sons to England for their schooling: “ O h m y Friend! how much are we to blame in Carolina, we have reduced ourselves to a Necessity o f

Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty sending our Children 1,10 0 Leagues to learn A B C im p erfectly. . . at a vast Expence o f M oney, some times a total Loss o f M orals and Constitution, w hen such A B C m ight be better obtained at hom e.”78 B ut now that the m ost w ealthy and am bitious citizens o f the U nited States had learned Laurens’s les­ son, they resolved to w ork to form their children in their fam ilies and in Am erican schools and colleges. T h ey w ould seek to create an institutional environm ent in Am erica that would nurture republican citizens. T h e new emphasis on virtue and on the fam ily as the best agency for inculcating it prom oted a revaluation o f girls' as w ell as boys’ education. A lthough dom estic training remained the prim ary focus o f education for girls, some lathers began to look beyond it. H enry Laurens, who paid tuition for his daughter, Polly, to learn drawing, w riting, arithm etic, and French, was com m itted to fem ale dom esticity. To his brother, who was supervising Polly’s education, Laurens wrote: “Am idst all these finer Branches o f a C arolina Ladies Education, I hope she w ill learn to cut out and make up a Piece o f Linnen, and even a Piece o f white or blue W oolen for her Negroes, to ad­ m inister fam ily M edicine, and be able by and by, to direct her M aids w ith Judgem ent and understanding, in such and m any other essential D uties in D om estic Life, w hich She has now an O pportunity o f learning from her D ear A unt.” Besides prom oting these conventional skills, however, Laurens asked that Polly be directed “to peruse attentively and go twice over the H istory o f England”79 so as to give her a grounding for understanding poli­ tics, a subject that had generally been off-lim its to wom en. Laurens was not suggesting that girls should be educated to participate in public affairs, as were boys; he sim ply believed they should not be kept in ignorance. Such a view was more frilly articulated in a Boston Radical W hig magazine in which “ C lio ,” the goddess o f history, called on “ M an” to “ bestow his wisdom to im ­ prove” the “ Fem ale M in d,” which was “rich w ith native genius and noble sen­ tim ent.” O ne o f the benefits, C lio noted, w ould be “the advantage . . . to those who are under [women’s] care.”80 Even before Am erican indepen­ dence, the notion o f an educated, virtuous republican w ife and mother, as Jan Lew is and Linda K . Kerber have explained, was taking shape.81 Because o f the focus on the fam ily as the incubator o f the virtuous, in­ form ed republican citizen, wom en could not remain in total political igno­ rance, lacking any knowledge o f history. In contrast, leaders perceived no need to im prove the education o f A frican Am ericans and N ative Am ericans, who were seen as being outside the political community. A t the same tim e that the secular Jefferson was proposing grand reform s for the education o f white Virginians, his plan “for teaching Indian boys” was lim ited to m ain-

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Bulwark o f Revolutionary Liberty taining the charity school initially financed by the Englishm an R ob ert Boyle, at which the curriculum was confined to “reading, w riting, vu lgar arithm etic, the catechism and the principles o f the Christian religion.”82 T h e old charity school model o f piety and useful service continued to dom inate consideration o f N ative Am erican and A frican Am erican education. Since these dependent peoples lacked even the indirect access to political inclusion that the role o f w ife and m other offered wom en, leaders saw no reason fo r them to read Catharine M acaulays or anyone elses history o f England. T h eir duty was to com ply hum bly w ith the authorities, not to defend their few rights or to judge their betters. W hen it cam e to actually establishing an inform ed citizenry in Am erica after independence, revolutionary leaders had no generally accepted, clearly understood models to im itate. I f Am erican leaders were going to lay the in­ stitutional foundations for an inform ed citizenry, they w ould have to invent them . T h e rhetorical creation and valuation o f the republican w ife and m other was one new approach that enhanced the public significance o f fam­ ily life. T h e freeing o f religious sects by the state legislatures was an even m ore radical and problem atic innovation since it encouraged all Protestants to pursue salvation and virtue according to their own lights in order to pro­ m ote a net increase in public virtue. Both o f these innovations, together with the widening state adherence to the doctrine o f free speech as a means for as­ suring an inform ed citizenry, required no public expenditures; they sim ply freed Am ericans to follow republican ideals. Another innovation o f farreaching significance was potentially cosdy, how ever the statutory com m it­ ment to public education through schools and colleges. T h e fiscal im plications o f “public education” in the revolutionary era were am biguous. In Britain “public” schools and colleges were open to the public for adm ission, but they were financed w holly out o f student tuitions, fees, and private endowm ents, not tax revenues. In a strict sense, this was the m eaning o f “public education” in 1776. Indeed, when one considers the Pennsylvania and N orth C arolina constitutions o f that year, it appears that their provisions for public schools and universities m eant that they would be “public” in the British sense and that neither state intended to raise tax rev­ enues to supply free education for its inhabitants. Rather, each state encour­ aged the form ation o f an extensive, tuition-based educational system. T h e N ew England “public” school m odel, which differed from the British m odel, was also available for consideration. In C onnecticut and Massa­ chusetts, tax revenues and public lotteries as w ell as tuition charges and stu-

Bulwark o f Revolutionary Liberty dent fees all paid for the public education regim e. C olonial statutes required towns to lay taxes to support schools, and although all towns did not always com ply, in m ost com m unities the public taxed itself in order to supply “free” elem entary education for boys and, increasingly, for girls as well. T h e public defrayed the capital cost o f erecting the school building, norm ally a cheap wooden structure, and also paid the teacher s salary, but parents bore the re­ sponsibility o f m aintaining the schoolhouse, providing it w ith firewood, and supplying their childrens textbooks. A t the level o f the gram m ar school, where Latin was taught and where a boy m ight prepare for college, actual public provisions fell far short o f statutory requirements. Less than h alf o f the towns that were required to support gram m ar schools w ith tax revenues did so (65 out o f 144 in 1765), and m any boys prepared for college w ith local clergym en as private tutors, as Joh n Adam s did in the 1740s.87 A t the college level, both H arvard and Yale received some capital funds and operating ex­ penses from their colonial legislatures, but they also relied on m itions, fees, gifts, and endowments. W ith the exception o f a few charity scholars, the stu­ dents paid for the operating costs o f education. T h is N ew England m odel, in w hich "public” meant the use o f tax revenues in addition to the passage o f enabling legislation, w ould prove influential over tim e as states in other re­ gions adopted some o f its elements. Thom as Jefferson proposed the m ost dram atic revision o f the N ew England arrangem ent in V irginia in the 1779 B ill for the M ore General D iffusion o f Knowledge. T h is bill was p an o f a com prehensive revision o f state law and institutions designed to make V irginia a model republic. For Jefferson and Jam es M adison, its principal advocates, the perm anent estab­ lishm ent o f an inform ed citizenry was the central purpose o f the proposal. To his old mentor, the w idely respected attorney and judge George W ythe, Jefferson declared that this was “ by far the m ost im portant bill in our w hole code.” "Preach, m y dear Sir,” he entreated W ythe, "a crusade against igno­ rance; establish and im prove the law for educating the com m on people.”84 T h is law originated in Radical W hig fears concerning the seductive, deceitful paths that tyrants used to seize unlawful power, as well as in the Enlighten­ m ent faith in reason and knowledge as agents for hum an im provem ent. T h e bill stated that its first objective was to block the rise o f tyranny, and it asserted that an inform ed citizenry was ultim ately the only effective barrier against despotism . It proposed to "illu m in ate. . . the m inds o f the people at large, and m ore especially to give them knowledge o f those facts, which his­ tory exhibiteth, that, possessed thereby o f the experience o f other ages and countries, they m ay be enabled to know am bition under all its shapes.” Thus

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Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty inform ed, com m on people w ould be “prom pt to exert their natural powers” so as to repel tyranny. A further goal was to secure “publick happiness,” which required laws that were “w isely form ed and honesdy adm inistered.”85 Since com m on people could not make and im plem ent laws on their ow n, they needed the guidance o f men possessing natural “genius and virtu e,” whose “ liberal education” rendered them w orthy to rule. For that reason, the bill called for a tw o-tier school system leading to college, whereby the ablest and m ost virtuous youths m ight be brought forw ard “w ithout regard to wealth, birth or other accidental condition.” As in N ew England, the w hole system was to be supported financially by a com bination o f taxes and tu­ itions. A t the elem entary level, “all the free children, m ale and fem ale,” should have three years o f schooling at public expense. T h e subjects o f in­ struction were basic— reading, w riting, and arithm etic— but the textbooks w ould sim ultaneously “make them acquainted w ith G raedan, Rom an, English and Am erican history.”86 T h is secular education for girls as w ell as boys, w ithout either Bible or catechism , w ould establish the foundation for the republican com m onwealth o f V irginia. To supply republican leaders, the bill provided for higher levels o f train­ ing. Gram m ar schools located on ioo-acre lots spaced throughout V irginia w ould not be mere log cabins but instead physical emblems o f the perma­ nent com m itm ent to an inform ed citizenry. Each one w ould be constructed at su te expense out o f “ brick or stone” w ith “a room for the school, a hall to dine in, four rooms for a master and usher, and ten or twelve lodging rooms for the scholars.”87 T h e curriculum w ould include Latin and Greek, English grammar, geography, and the higher levels o f arithm etic such as dec­ im als and cube roots.88 M ost o f the students w ould pay their own way, but each year, one boy w ith at least two years o f training w ould be selected from each o f the local elem entary schools to attend his regions gram m ar school at su te expense i f his “parents are too poor” to pay tuition.89 Such gratis scholars w ould be progressively weeded out over a six-year period so that at the highest level each gram m ar school w ould have only one gratis “senior” student. O ne o f these gratis seniors, “o f the best learning and m ost hopeful genius and disposition,” w ould then be sent for three years to the C ollege o f W illiam and M ary to com plete his education at public expense.90 To assure that the college itself w ould be adequate to the new demands o f supplying leadership, Jefferson prepared a bill to revamp its constitution, finances, and curriculum , including provisions for secular professorships in ethics/fine arts, law, history, m athematics, anatom y/m edicine, natural philosophy and history, ancient languages, and modern languages.91 B y offering m odest but

Bulwark o f Revolutionary Liberty unm istakable encouragem ent for state-sponsored upward m obility, Jeffer­ son’s plan departed significantly from all earlier schemes, such as that o f Benjam in Franklin, w ith which it had other com m on elements. In the V irgin ia scheme, Radical W hig ideology and Enlightenm ent learning were com bined. A t the same tim e, Jefferson’s plan aim ed to unite mass popular education w ith the perpetuation o f elite, albeit enlightened, rule. “ T h e best geniuses w ill be raked from the rubbish annually,” Jefferson explained, thereby gain­ ing for the state “those talents w hich nature has sown as liberally am ong the poor as the rich, but which perish w ithout use, if not sought for and culti­ vated.” A s for those possessing m erely com m on abilities, the public school­ ing w ould develop their political understanding: “ It w ill avail them o f the experience o f other nations; it w ill qualify them as judges o f the actions and designs o f m en; it w ill enable them to know am bition under every guise it m ay assume; and know ing it, to defeat its view s.”92 O verall, the statutes w ould create a broad base o f discerning, w atchful citizens who w ould be qualified to choose w isely am ong their liberally educated leaders. In a state whose citizens had already selected such leaders as Thom as Jefferson, Richard H enry Lee, Jam es M adison, G eorge M ason, and George W ashing­ ton, the reform s did not point so m uch to any radical change in the charac­ ter o f politics as to a regular process to institutionalize the nascent republican order and guard against future despots and demagogues. In N ew England, where the means for inform ing and educating the in­ habitants were w ell developed, Radical W higs were confident that the in­ form ed citizenry had already proved itself in the crises o f 1775 and 1776. V irtu ally no one believed that m ajor reform , such as the reform s Jefferson proposed for V irginia, was necessary since the system had so recently dem onstrated that it was not broken. Yet new concerns went beyond Radical W hig attention to citizens as politically inform ed defenders o f liberty. T h e em powerm ent o f com m on men at the m om ent o f independence did not necessarily encourage respect for the best inform ed, m ost learned citizens or respect for men who believed in elite republican rule according to N ew England models or the principles o f the V irginia reform . In N ew Jersey, “a Prejudice against liberal Education” existed am ong the people, and John Adam s reckoned that “there is a Spice o f this every where.” E lite snobbery was partly to blam e, Adams thought, and he adm onished “ Gentlem en o f Education to lay aside Som e o f their A irs, o f Scorn, Vanity and Pride.” “G entlem en,” Adam s warned, “cannot expect the Confidence o f the com m on People i f they treat them ill, or refuse hautily [rid to com ply

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Bulwark o f Revolutionary Liberty w ith some o f their favorite N otions.”93 But this antagonism between m en w ith com m on education and those few possessed o f greater learning c u t deeper than issues o f style. There was “a Jealousy or an Envy taking Place am ong the M ultitude” that was aimed at “ M en o f Learning.” T h e sh o rt' term practical result o f this jealousy win various Parts o f these States,” in eluding N ew England, was M a W ish to exclude [men o f learning] from th e public C ouncils and from m ilitary C om m and.”94 From a long-term perspective, this tendency was even m ore om inous since it would lead to rule by parochial, self-interested demagogues. To revo­ lutionary leaders who believed that a republic, above all other form s o f gov­ ernm ent, needed the guidance o f disinterested men o f expanded learning and vision, the jealousy Adams identified was poisonous.95 D ay-to-day ne­ cessities in 1776 w ould push aside the worries o f the M assachusetts delegate to the Continental Congress, but his fear “that human Nature w ill be found to be the Sam e in Am erica as it has been in Europe, and that the true Principles o f Liberty w ill not be Sufficiently attended to,” w ould not only ac­ tivate V irginia reformers to propose a new foundation o f and for republican institutions but also m otivate N ew Englanders.96 In M assachusetts, Radical W hig and Enlightenm ent ideas were interwo­ ven w ith the Puritan legacy and clerical influence in the laying o f the foun­ dation o f republican society. As in V irginia, an inform ed citizenry was seen as crucial. According to the patriot clergym an who preached the 1778 elec­ tion serm on, “ Knowledge and learning w ill be considered as m ost essentially requisite for a free, righteous governm ent.. . . A certain degree o f knowl­ edge is absolutely to be diffused through a su te for the preservation o f its lib­ erties and the quiet o f gpvem m ent.”97 Here the Radical W hig defense o f liberty merged w ith the Puritan and clerical concern for order. But there were also larger, enlightened aspirations: “A republican governm ent and sci­ ence m utually prom ote and support each other.” U nderlying these calls to support learning were the fears Joh n Adams had expressed earlier. T h e elec­ tion hom ily o f 1778 asserted: “ Every kind o f useful knowledge w ill be care­ fu lly encouraged and prom oted by the rulers o f a free state, unless they should happen to be men o f ignorance themselves; in which case they and their com m unity w ill be in danger o f sharing the fate o f blind guides and their followers. T h e education o f youth, by instructors properly qualified, the establishm ent o f societies for useful arts and sciences, the encouragement o f persons o f superior abilities, w ill always com m and the attention o f wise rulers.”98 Were the M assachusetts legislators “wise rulers” or “men o f igno­ rance” ? W hen the preacher delivered these lines, he knew he must tread care-

Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty fu lly since m ost o f his audience had never attended college. Yet he drew on a com m on social vision that was rooted in colonial experience. Two years later, the new Massachusetts constitution, drafted by John Adam s, form alized the adm onitions o f this 1778 serm on. Recasting the mis­ sion o f governm ent in broad republican rather than Puritan term s, the con­ stitution o f 1780 proclaim ed a com prehensive public responsibility not m erely for education at all levels but also for creating an advanced, enlight­ ened, knowledgeable, and progressive society. Like the V irginia reform pro­ posals o f the previous year, the new Massachusetts constitution was designed to enable republican principles and institutions to endure; furtherm ore, it affirm ed that they could survive only in the custody o f a virtuous and in­ form ed citizenry. T h e constitution emphasized the fundam ental im portance o f the Radical W hig ideal and furnished institutional means for its support. In the opening section, the Declaration o f the Rights o f the Inhabitants called for “the public w orship o f G od” because public happiness and civil order required “ instruc­ tions in piety, religion and m orality.” Significandy, this religious establishment was justified in secular rather than sacred terms; the republican state was inter­ ested not in salvation but in order and ethical behavior. Religious instruction was said to supply social benefits, and for that reason, “the support and main­ tenance o f public protestant teachers o f piety, religion and m orality” were re­ quired in every locality w ithin the state. “Attendance upon the instructions o f the public teachers,” or churchgoing, was also enjoined unless it violated an in­ dividual s religious scru p les." T he ch ief purpose o f these institutional arrange­ ments was to m aintain a citizenry sufficiendy inform ed in Christian principles to embrace m orality and therefore civic virtue. Being m orally inform ed was an essential element o f the prescription for republican cidzenship. Political inform ation, however, was equally im portant, and as in V irginia, the M assachusetts D edaradon o f Rights also guaranteed the “liberty o f the press,” which it declared to be “essential to the security o f freedom in a state.” 100 In addition to a free press, all o f the other means that had been em­ ployed by patriots to inform the people from 1765 onward w ould be pro­ tected in perpetuity: “to assemble to consult upon the com m on good; give instructions to their representatives and to request o f the legislative body, by w ay o f addresses, petitions, or remonstrances, redress o f the wrongs done them , and o f the grievances they suffer.”101 These general guarantees o f free press and assem bly were w idely adopted by the states in their revolutionary consdtutions, which drew upon the Radical W hig repertoire o f require­ ments for the preservation o f a free state.

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Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty In Massachusetts, these passages in the D eclaration o f Rights recalled the English heritage o f the recent past, whereas the provision for a religious es­ tablishm ent— so contrary to the letter and spirit o f the V irginia reform s— blended elem ents o f the Puritan legacy w ith an Anglican conservatism that linked piety and order and referred to citizens as “subjects o f the com m on­ w ealth.” C om bining these d istin a , even conflicting, traditions— Radical W hig, Puritan, and Anglican— to prom ote a coherent political order w as problem atic and w ould later generate divisions. But in the short term , the com bination helped to sustain the revolutionary coalition. T h e fifth chapter o f the Massachusetts constitution, devoted to “T h e U niversity at Cam bridge, and Encouragem ent o f Literature & C ," was even more innovative. It expressed an entirely new enlightened vision o f an in­ form ed and cultivated citizenry that w ould be elaborated by leaders throughout the United States for two generations and w ould ultim ately have m ajor institutional consequences. Here John Adams went far beyond the themes sounded in his 1765 “ D issertation on the C anon and Feudal Law” and drew on cosm opolitan Enlightenm ent ideas in articulating a new mis­ sion for governm ent. T h e constitutional provisions concerning H arvard were in themselves or­ dinary. Chiefly, the constitution guaranteed H arvard’s property and its sys­ tem o f governance. In addition, however, the state extended the purpose o f the university far beyond its original Christian and civic m issions. “ T he en­ couragem ent o f arts and sciences, and all good literature,” the constitution proclaim ed, “tends to the honour o f G od, the advantage o f the Christian reli­ gion, and the great benefit o f this and the other United States o f Am erica.”102 Here Massachusetts was assigning a broad range o f secular objectives to the university, o b jeaives whose fulfillm ent w ould enrich the state and the nation. W hat was remarkable, however, was not the portion dealing w ith the uni­ versity; the ideal o f an inform ed elite, after all, reached back to the Renais­ sance. It was the next paragraph, entided “T h e Encouragem ent o f Literature,” on the education o f com m on people— presum ably com m on men— that was revolutionary. Here earlier Puritan and Radical W hig traditions were trans­ form ed into an Enlightenm ent ideal o f com prehensive education that would ensure a society that was not only Christian and free but also just, humane, and progressive. According to the com m onwealths constitution: W isdom , and knowledge, as well as virtue, diffused generally am ong the body o f the people, being necessary for the preservation o f their rights and liberties; and as these depend on spreading the opportunities and ad-

Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty vantages o f education in the various parts o f the country, and am ong the different orders o f the people, it shall be the duty o f legislatures and mag­ istrates , in all future periods o f this Com m onwealth, to cherish the inter­ ests o f literature and the sciences, and all seminaries o f them ; especially the university at Cam bridge, public schools, and gram m ar schools in the towns; to encourage private societies and public institutions, rewards and im m unities, for the prom otion o f agriculture, arts, sciences, com m erce, trades, m anufactures, and a natural history o f the country; to counte­ nance and inculcate the principles o f hum anity and general benevolence, public and private charity, industry and frugality, honesty and punctual­ ity in their dealing?; sincerity, good humor, and all social affections, and generous sentim ents am ong the people.103 Adam s’s tribute to universal education, em bracing all productive and illum i­ nating fields o f endeavor, carried Massachusetts w ell beyond Radical W hig notions o f an inform ed citizenry as a bulwark against tyranny. T h e objective was more than a defense o f liberty; it was the positive creation o f a progres­ sive, enlightened, and virtuous society. For Adam s and Jefferson— indeed, the entire generation o f revolutionary leaders— the success o f liberty and o f republican governm ent and society rested on the crucial equation o f virtue and knowledge. A s they saw it, Rousseau’s notion o f a virtuous (and ignorant) savage was absurd because a benighted, uninform ed people could not be virtuous, just as a virtuous peo­ ple could not be ignorant. W ithin this consensus, the principal differences am ong patriots concerned the place o f religion in a republican society. According to evangelical form ulations, people w ho came to know C hrist and embraced his message became unselfish, virtuous citizens.104 M ain­ stream Protestants, too, linked good citizenship to knowledge o f religious truth. According to Benjam in Rush, a Pennsylvania Presbyterian w ho signed the D eclaration o f Independence, “a Christian cannot fail o f being a repub­ lican.” In Rush’s m ind, the two were conflated inasmuch as “ Republicanism is a part o f the truth o f Christianity.” 105 To the latitudinarian president o f Yale College, Ezra Stiles, the idea that “all should be taught to read the scrip­ tures” was axiom atic. A t the same tim e, Rush, a scientist and college founder, concluded that “w ithout religion I believe learning does real m is­ ch ief to the morals and principles o f m ankind.”106 Knowledge, after all, was linked to sin in the Garden o f Eden, and the D evil him self was a knowledge­ able fidlen angel. To m any revolutionary leaders, the idea o f raising a w all o f separation between C hristianity and the new republican states seemed self-

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Bulwark o f Revolutionary Liberty contradictory and ill-advised i f the merger between knowledge and virtue was to flourish. Thom as Jefferson and his V irginia constituents, however, saw things differendy. In principle, Baptists argued, religion was a private, not a public, m atter; and besides, pragm atists pointed out, religious establishm ents led to sectarian wrangling and infringem ents on freedom o f worship. Both Adam s and Jefferson shared an essentially secular orientation, looking to C hris­ tianity chiefly for ethical standards, not personal theological truth, but they disagreed over the relationship between organized religion and the state. Adam s, whose oudook reflected that o f his Massachusetts constituency, saw the need for a religious establishm ent, whereas Jefferson cam e to the conclu­ sion that religion m ust be separate from the state and proudly cham pioned a law to that end, the V irginia Statute o f Religious Freedom. T h is statute echoed M ilton in its claim "that truth is great and w ill prevail i f left to her­ self, that she is the proper and sufficient antagonist to error.”107 O n both sides, however, revolutionary leaders agreed that republican states bore a central responsibility for guaranteeing their own survival by m aking provi­ sions to assure the existence o f an inform ed citizenry. Before the movement for independence began, the idea o f an inform ed citizenry was already an established part o f the W hig and Radical W hig ide­ ologies. It was the m obilization o f colonial opposition to im perial reform that made the idea relevant to everyday politics and led revolutionary leaders to invest it w ith more urgency than ever before. A s long as colonial political opposition was confined to legislative and council cham bers, the extent o f political inform ation am ong the population at large could be disregarded, as had long been the case in every colony. T h e plantation and village parochial­ ism o f farm ers, who seldom looked beyond their dungheaps, had long made popular engagement in provincial or im perial politics an occasional event rather than a routine staple o f colonial public life. But now the w idening cir­ cles o f opposition to British measures and the intensification o f protests gave new m eaning to the idea. Concern for the kind o f inform ation supplied to citizens, its mode o f presentation, and its political content stim ulated a new consciousness o f being either "inform ed” or ignorant. Indeed, as the need to be inform ed assumed heightened im portance am ong com m on men and wom en, pam phlets, newspapers, and form al public oratory gained laiger, more diverse audiences. A more socially com prehensive conception o f an in­ form ed citizenry emerged, together w ith the sense that com m on people pos­ sessed a more active, critical role. A fter Am ericans swept British government

Bulwark of Revolutionary Liberty aw ay between 1774 and 1776 , it became im m ediately apparent that old cus­ tom s and institutions were not h illy capable o f m eeting republican needs for an inform ed citizenry. N ow the need to be inform ed was constant, not episodic, and public engagem ent in the revolutionary cause was essential to its survival. T hus in 1776, and later, revolutionaries turned to the state as the principal agency for the form ation and perpetuation o f an inform ed citizenry. Two kinds o f approaches were adopted sim ultaneously. T h e first, drawing on Radical W hig prescriptions for a free state, focused on liberating the chan­ nels o f inform ation by assuring the right to free speech and press and freedom o f assem bly and petition. Connected to this movement was the lib­ eration o f religious sects— freedom o f religion— which meant that the state w ould no longer interfere w ith pathways to virtue. Indirecdy, freedom o f re­ ligion prom oted the form ation o f an inform ed citizenry by releasing reli­ gious energy in order to encourage virtue, just as free speech and press enhanced the circulation o f inform ation. T h e second approach, using the state in a positive w ay to support the institutions required by an inform ed citizenry— schools, colleges and uni­ versities, libraries, and learned societies— represented a substantially new de­ parture. In the case o f M assachusetts, secular public institutions were designed to com plem ent churches and clergym en in their long-standing role o f prom oting knowledge and virtue. In V irginia, reformers sought to bypass the old Anglican establishm ent and create new, secular educational institu­ tions. Everywhere there was confidence that the state could play a positive role in establishing the foundations o f an inform ed citizenry. Revolutionaries were optim istic, even visionary in the cases o f Thom as Jefferson and John Adam s, when they looked toward the fiiture, even though there were signs o f hostility to cosm opolitan learning and its sup­ porters from the outset. T h is incipient populist resistance to higher learning proved to be only one o f m any com plications prom pted by the idea o f ac­ tively creating an inform ed citizenry. A s the idea o f being inform ed was ex­ tended beyond the Radical W hig notion o f know ing ones rights and some political history and came to embrace a m ultitude o f useful and speculative Enlightenm ent and Christian topics, form ing a consensus as to the m eaning o f being "inform ed” became more elusive. T h e difficulties Christians en­ countered in agreeing on doctrine were a foretaste o f the problem o f concur­ ring on what being inform ed ought to mean. Revolutionary leaders, even those like Adam s, Jefferson, and Rush who were m ost farsighted, were further lim ited by their culture and historical

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Bulwark o f Revolutionary Liberty context in that they did not anticipate the dynam ic im pact o f the Revolution on the concept o f citizenry itself. T h ey could not seriously entertain the idea that the political m eaning o f “citizen0 as “freeholder0 m ight in a generation or two be challenged. T h e idea that propertyless men, w hite or black, m ight be candidates for equal political rights appeared truly radical in the 1770s, and the notion o f wom en, propertied or not, as political actors was alm ost unthinkable. For revolutionary leaders, an “ inform ed citizenry0 was more restricted and firm ly linked to virtue than it w ould later prove to be.

C h a p te r4 Ç Shaping an Informed Citizenry for a Republican Future In the decades preceding the independence m ovement, the issue o f an in­ form ed citizenry was peripheral to the m ajor political and cultural concerns o f Britons at hom e and in the colonies. Voices asserting M andevillean argu­ m ents in favor o f popular ignorance and illiteracy had faded away, and there was litde controversy over the purposes and value o f being inform ed. For or­ dinary people, the many, the prescribed objective o f being educated and in­ form ed was to perform one’s allotted private role in the social and econom ic order piously and dutifully. For those few w ho occupied professional and aristocratic stations, the prescribed social and cultural duties included guid­ ing and ruling the many. Because their rank entailed public responsibilities, inform ed citizenship for them required some cosm opolitan learning and a knowledge o f ecclesiastical and public affairs. But the Revolution underm ined the assumptions that had sustained this consensus.1 N ow the many, not just the few, were to play active public roles and thus m ust be inform ed in order to be able to fu lfill their public respon­ sibilities. Revolutionary leaders recognized this new reality even before inde­ pendence was w on, and in several states— Pennsylvania, N orth C arolina, G eorgia, and Massachusetts— constitutional provisions for the encourage­ m ent o f education attested to this consciousness. Som e revolutionary lead­ ers, am ong them John Adam s, Thom as Jefferson, Jam es M adison, and Benjam in Rush, were so w orried about the historic fragility o f republican regimes that they were convinced that tax-supported, state-sponsored schools and universities were vital necessities. O thers, however, felt the need to inform the citizenry less urgendy and were resistant to taxation in general. T h ey preferred a more m odest role for governm ent in which Congress or the states w ould m erely encourage private citizens and localities to prom ote an inform ed citizenry by enabling them to create schools, libraries, and other suitable agencies. Since it was generally agreed that, as in the colonial era, leading citizens needed to be more broadly inform ed than com m on people and no agreement could be reached concerning precisely w hat body o f in-

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Shaping an Informed Citizenry form ation all citizens ought to com m and, contests over public education were enduring. N either the form , the substance, nor the financing o f public education could com m and unanim ous agreement. T h e b elief that a free press was necessary in order to assure an inform ed citizenry was even more fundam ental to the Revolution and was enshrined in state constitutions and bills o f rights from the beginning. But alm ost everywhere politics were contested, there were controversies over the proper m eaning o f a free press. T h e legacies o f the colonial and revolutionary eras were am biguous and gave some com fort both to those who claim ed that press freedom m erely meant no prior censorship and to others w ho argued that the law o f private libels was the only useful lim it to press freedom . On this issue more than any other, it seemed that where one stood depended on where one sat. A t different tim es, John Adam s and Thom as Jefferson were am ong the m ost ardent defenders o f the press and its freedom in principle and am ong its m ost savage critics in practice. T h e press o f the early republic was sim ultaneously one o f the m ost sacrosanct as well as one o f the m ost ex­ coriated agencies o f an inform ed citizenry. A t the outset, two questions were param ount: W ho, precisely, should be inform ed and what, exacdy, should they know? Clearly, the old British charity school ideal o f prom oting sim ple literacy in order to m aintain a pi­ ous and docile w ork force was not a revolutionary goal. Being inform ed, it was understood, meant a knowledge o f public affairs, but whether it in­ volved only a knowledge o f one’s rights so that they could be defended or more comprehensive and positive inform ation so that the people could iden­ tify and pursue their interests generally w ould be a m atter o f contention for two generations. In the colonial era, the people "out-of-doors” engaging in political dem onstrations had included propertyless artisans, laborers, boys, A frican Am ericans, and even wom en; now that com m on people were being recognized and brought "indoors” as enfranchised members o f the body politic, expectations about the identity and responsibilities o f citizen­ ship needed to be adjusted.2 Controversies over w ho should be inform ed— according to property, gender, and race— w ould become heated and in­ tractable. These tensions were exposed in discussions o f free speech, education pol­ icy, and the notion o f public opinion. T h e British rhetorical heritage o f con­ stitutional and political liberty was glorious and elevated, but it was also so broad and various that it was often invoked indiscrim inately. In 1766, for ex­ am ple, a Connecticut newspaper had reprinted a passage from the London

Shapingan Informed Citizenry press chat declared that “every good Englishm an w ill at all times be an advo­ cate for liberty o f the Press” because “public knowledge and public Freedom depend alike on its preservation.” But who was to say exacdy w hat “public knowledge” meant? Ribaldry, falsehood, scurrility, and invective should not be protected. For such licentiousness “there can be no liberty, either in speaking, w riting, or printing.”3 A decade later in 1775, the newly arrived Englishm an Thom as Paine declared in the Pennsylvania M agazine that the press exerted the m ost general “ influence over the manners and morals o f a people.” From the press, he said, “as from a fountain, the streams o f vice or virtue are poured forth over a country.”4 Revolutionaries generally shared these views, grandly proclaim ing their b elief in free speech as long as it remained w ithin the boundaries o f decency and truth. As the V irginian George M ason put it in his su te s D eclaration o f R ights proclaim ed in 1776 , “ Freedom o f the Press is one o f the greatest bul­ w arks o f liberty, and can never be restrained but by despotick Governm ents.” W hen Jam es M adison presented the proposed B ill o f Rights to his fellow congressmen in 1789, he echoed M asons language, avowing that “the free­ dom o f the press, as one o f the great bulwarks o f liberty, shall be inviolable.” Later, when the First Am endm ent was adopted, Congress was prohibited from “abridging the freedom o f speech, or o f the press.”5 There were no objections. Yet determ ining the boundaries o f free speech and press was not as straightforward as declarations o f rights suggested. Because republican prin­ ciples elevated the role and im portance o f the people and “public opinion” in sustaining governm ent, the lim its o f free expression were often contested. It was easy enough to assert that “the

p e o p le

are the Basis on which all power

and authority rest” and that “the extent o f their knowledge and inform ation” determ ines public security, but it was harder to agree on the proper “extent o f their knowledge and inform ation” in p u ctical term s.6 Early in President W ashington’s adm inistration, his secretary o f su te, Thom as Jefferson, ad­ vised him that appropriate “ knowledge and inform ation” should include criticism o f the governm ent, even the present governm ent, because “no gov­ ernm ent ought to be w ithout censors: & where the press is free, no one ever w ill.”7 W ithin a few years, however, Jefferson qualified his support o f a free press w ith words that looked back to 1766 and forward to the Federalists’ Sedition A ct o f 1798. “ Printing presses shall be free,” Jefferson proclaim ed, “except as to false facts published m aliciously.”8T h e necessity o f distinguish­ in g liberty from license, and protecting the one w hile prohibiting the other, seemed inescapable.

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Shaping an Informed Citizenry A t the m ost fundam ental, abstract level, Am erican leaders agreed w ith Jefferson concerning the necessity o f a free press and an inform ed citizenry. But when it came to actual cases, their perspectives differed. O ften the differences were partisan and depended on whether their own policies were being attacked. T h e inconsistent twists and turns in Jefferson’s own attitudes toward the press— saluting press freedom and condem ning its excesses— re­ veal the depth o f the challenge posed by a free press in a republican context. In 1799, when the Sedition A ct was in force, V ice President Jefferson de­ clared that he was Mfor freedom . . . o f the press” in the broadest terms. It made no difference whether “the com plaints or criticism s” against govern­ ment officials were “just or unjust.” It was, he said, a violation o f the Consti­ tution “to silence [critics] by force and not by reason.” Jefferson maintained this position, at least rhetorically, as he entered the presidency, but by 1803 he was com plaining to a French correspondent that “the abuses o f the freedom o f the press here have been carried to a length never before known or borne by any civilized nation.” Still, the president believed “ it better to trust the public judgm ent, rather than the magistrate, w ith the discrim ination between truth and falsehood.” T h is was the same view that Jefferson proclaim ed in 1805 at his second inaugural. Although he applauded “the salutary coercions o f the la w . . . against false and defam atory publications” and deplored the “demor­ alizing licentiousness o f the press,” he urged the nation to rely not on prose­ cutions and courts but on “the censorship o f public opinion.”9 Two years later, however, Jefferson had difficulty extolling the press as “ im portant to freedom and science.” H e was so disillusioned that in private he now claim ed that “truth itself becomes suspicious by being put into that polluted vehicle.” Because newspapers regularly published “fables” under pretense o f fact, Jefferson argued, “the man who never looks into a newspa­ per is better inform ed than he who reads th e m .. . . H e who reads nothing w ill still learn the great facts,” whereas the details reported by the press “are all false.” T h is was not the expression o f a passing m ood, the tem porary petulance o f a proud official under attack. Even after leaving office, when he enjoyed the serenity o f M onticello, Jefferson wrote privately o f “the lying and licentious character o f our papers.” Five years into his retirem ent, Jeffer­ son was deploring “the putrid state into which our newspapers have passed.” It was so bad that the m ajor political purpose o f free speech itself had been underm ined since “as vehicles o f inform ation, and a curb on our functionar­ ies, they have rendered themselves useless, by forfeiting all tide to belief.”10 In truth, Jefferson, like m any others o f his generation, was am bivalent about newspapers and the consequences o f a free press. Thom as Paine, who

Shaping an Informed, Citizenry m ade his career under the protections o f a free press, agreed w ith Jefferson th a tuerror o f opinion m ight be tolerated, when reason was left to com bat it ” but he emphasized that “there is a difference between error and licentiousness.”11 Jefferson, though he grew to be alienated from the press as it was, continued to proclaim that “where the press is free, and every man able to read, all is safe.” Even at the age o f eighty, he w ould assert that “freedom o f the press” was not only a “form idable censor” o f public officials but “also the best in­ strum ent for enlightening the m ind o f m an, and im proving him as a ratio­ nal, m oral, and social being.” But because Jefferson ultim ately gave up on newspapers, these fine pronouncements had a hollow, ritualized quality. H e continued to read books, but as for newspapers, “ I rarely think them worth reading,” he wrote to President Jam es M onroe. “ I have ceased to re a d . . . the newspapers . . . in a great degree,” he remarked to his form er secretary o f state, A lbert G allatin. B y 1820, he adm itted to another old colleague, “ I read but one newspaper and that o f m y own State, and more for its advertise­ m ents than its news.”12 Com m itted republicans o f Jefferson’s generation could not help but feel equivocal about press freedom because o f the funda­ m ental paradox that lay at the core o f its rationale: that to advance the true and the good, the false and the bad m ust also be perm itted. Even more fondam ental beliefs were also at stake. A s a 1790 debate between V ice President John Adams and his cousin Sam uel Adam s, the M assachusetts lieutenant governor, revealed, conflicts could also be based on different assessments o f hum an nature and institutions. Both Adamses be­ lieved “that knowledge and benevolence ought to be prom oted” ; John de­ clared, however, that these qualities w ould never be “sufficiendy general for the security o f the society.” T h e problem was that “hum an appetites, pas­ sions, prejudices, and self-love” were so powerful that they could “never be conquered by benevolence and knowledge alone.”13 To this, Sam uel Adam s rejoined w ith historical exam ple: “W isdom , Knowledge, and V irtue have been generally diffused am ong the body o f the people” in M assachusetts, en­ abling them to preserve “their rights and liberties.” A nd i f knowledge and virtue could be so effective in Massachusetts, they could w ork elsewhere as w ell. “T h e present age is more enlightened than form er ones,” he rem inded the vice president, and he reeled o ff a litany o f advances: “ Freedom o f en­ quiry is certainly more encouraged: T h e feelings o f hum anity have softned [sic] the heart. T h e true principles o f civil, and religious liberty are better un­ derstood: Tyranny in all its shapes, is more detested, and b ig o try . . . is de­ spised.” Now, w ith the victory o f Am erican liberty and the promise o f a republican revolution in C atholic France, Sam uel Adam s clinched his point

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Shapingan Informed Citizenry by declaring what most Am erican leaders, including John Adam s, believed — that “future Ages w ill probably be more enlightned [rid than this.” 14 W hereas John Adams emphasized human “appetites, passions, preju­ dices,” his cousin declared that “the Love o f Liberty is interwoven in the Soul o f M an.” 15 T h is debate had its ironies, such as the fact that Sam uel was an or­ thodox C alvinist and John was a rational D eist. Yet their views were alike on m any political issues, and they agreed as well on the fundam ental human potential for good and evil and on the necessity o f prom oting the form er and discouraging the latter through human institutions like governments, churches, and schools. But even am ong leaders whose origins, beliefe, and constituencies were so sim ilar, policies concerning free speech and an in­ form ed citizenry could provoke debate. M uch o f the sensitivity surrounding the subject o f freedom o f the press grew out o f a newfound appreciation o f the im portance o f w hat Jam es M adison called “public opinion.” In a brief, unsigned newspaper commen­ tary o f Decem ber 179 1, M adison declared that rules and constitutions notwithstanding, “public opinion sets bounds to every governm ent, and is the real sovereign in every free one.”16 A t the tim e, M adisons words did not evoke much discussion, but President W ashington w ould declare in his Farewell Address that “ it is essential that public opinion should be enlight­ ened,” and by the end o f the 1790s, the control o f public opinion became a leading theme o f partisan politics.17 T h e First Am endm ent to the Constitution prohibiting Congress from “abridging the freedom o f speech, or o f the press,” which was drafted by M adison, was challenged by the Sedition A ct, which President Joh n Adam s signed into law on Ju ly 14 ,179 8 . T h is law and its denunciation by Jeffersonian partisans as a violation o f the First Am endm ent illustrated just how hard it was to reach a consensus on the boundary between liberty and license where public opinion was concerned. T h e Sedition Act forbade “w riting, uttering or publishing any false, scan­ dalous and m alicious w riting” w ith the intent to “defeme” or excite “con­ tem pt” or “hatred” toward the governm ent o f the United States, the president, or Congress or to stir up opposition to laws. C ontrary to English jurisprudence, the law follow ed the libertarian principles o f N ew Yorks 1735 Zenger case: that defendants w ould present “the truth o f the matter” as evi­ dence, and juries w ould “determ ine the law,” that is, whether the statement was or was not libelous.18 Therefore, the authors o f the Sedition A ct could claim w ith some justification that their law preserved free speech by estab­ lishing its lim its, as did Jefferson, at the “false, scandalous and m alicious”

Shapingan Informed Citizenry boundary. Such restraints, it was said, were necessary to preserve “the purity o f public opinion.” 19 Public opinion m ust not only be inform ed; it m ust be righdy, truthfully inform ed. A n inform ed citizenry must not be left to chance. To realize this objective on a national scale, Congress early established the U .S . Post O ffice.20 B y setting low rates for the distribution o f newspapers and providing for their free exchange am ong publishers, the national gov­ ernm ent prom oted the circulation o f inform ation throughout the republic. A s M adison had explained in 179 1, “a general intercourse o f sentim ents. . . is equivalent to a contraction o f territorial lim its. . . where these m ay be too extensive.” 21 For the United States, Congress recognized, it was especially im portant that "territorial lim its” be reduced by the spread o f inform ation; indeed, some believed that in the state o f Massachusetts poor com m unica­ tion had been pardy responsible for the eruption o f political disorders. In the "two western Counties, w h ere. . . Boston papers never circulate gener­ ally . . . the good people have no direct means o f speedy inform ation____In consequence,” it was said, "they have been liable to m isinform ation.”22 D uring the clim ax o f Shays’s Rebellion, Jefferson claim ed that the people w ould not engage in such irregular activities i f they could receive "fu ll infor­ m ation o f their affairs thro’ the channel o f the public papers.” Several m onths later, the Connecticut leader Roger Sherm an noted that "the peo­ ple . . . w ant inform ation and are constandy liable to be m isled.”23 These im m ediate, palpable dangers made the creation o f a national postal system crucial. M adison argued that postage on newspapers must be low since anything "above h a lf a cent, am ounted to a prohibition . . . o f the dis­ tribution o f knowledge and inform adon” throughout the country. Referring to this policy, a N orth C arolina congressman told his constituents that " if the people hereafter remain uninform ’d it must be their own fault.” 24 Blam ing the people, o f course, w ould be sm all com fort i f the republic col­ lapsed due to dem agoguery and civil strife. W hat was essential was that both public and private means be em ployed in order to assure that citizens o f N orth C arolina and everywhere else were not "uninform ’d” or, as M adison com plained o f V irginians, in a "state o f darkness.”25 In M assachusetts, where the Puritan desire to m aintain a literate popula­ tion was linked to the Radical W hig ideal o f a politically inform ed citizenry, the state consdtution o f 1780, drafted by John Adam s, emphasized the fun­ dam ental im portance o f the W hig ideal and supplied the institutional means for its support. B y providing a religious establishm ent, as w ell as a statesponsored educational system and protections for freedom o f expression, the

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Shapingan Informed Citizenry Massachusetts constitution bound several traditions together— Pu ritan , en­ lightened, and Radical W hig. T h is union was convenient, even creative, but it w ould prove unstable when the diversity am ong Massachusetts's in h ab i­ tants generated conflicts over religious freedom and equality. In V irginia, revolutionary reformers viewed the religious establishm ent not as an agency to prom ote an inform ed citizenry but as one o f its ch ief im ­ pedim ents and thus made a sharp break with the colonial past. In place o f an established church, in 1786 the legislature enacted a bill, drafted by Jefferson, “for establishing Religious Freedom .” According to this law, established churches tainted the form ation o f public opinion and spoiled the climate o f free inquiry by giving official sanction to a particular dogm a and by m aking religious belief a criterion for citizenship. “O ur civil rights,” the legislators declared, “ have no dependence on our religious opinions, any m ore than our opinions in physics or geom etry.” In words that echoed M ilton in Areopagitica, the V irginia statute proclaim ed “that the truth is great and w ill pre­ vail if left to herself, that she is the proper and sufficient antagonist to error, and has nothing to fear from the conflict, unless by human interposition dis­ armed o f her natural weapons, free argum ent and debate.”26 Freedom o f re­ ligion, no less than free speech, was essential to the form ation o f an informed citizenry according to this Enlightenm ent form ulation. Paradoxically, the same legislature that enacted Jefferson’s bill granting re­ ligious freedom rejected his plan for establishing a secular education system. Because o f its expense, the difficulty o f its im plem entation in sparsely settled counties, and western com plaints about inequalities in the sizes o f dis­ tricts— all com plaints w ith a parochial flavor— the m uch adm ired Bill for the M ore General D iffusion o f Knowledge became a victim o f the very po­ litical ills it aim ed to remedy.27 Existing county officials were unw illing to share power w ith new boards o f alderm en, and the w ealthy resisted financ­ ing schools for their neighbors’ children. Anglicans disliked the generally secular character o f the system at a tim e when state support for religion was being w ithdrawn; Presbyterians disliked giving support to the Anglican College o f W illiam and M ary; and Baptists and M ethodists resented all taxsupported establishments. Consequendy, the goal o f achieving an informed citizenry would have to be prim arily a private endeavor.28 T h e fate o f Jefferson’s plan, which Jam es M adison had cham pioned in the V irginia legislature, though disappointing to cosm opolitan republicans, was actually characteristic o f state policies in the United States generally. Now that every free man was a citizen, the idea that every free man should be in­ form ed concerning public affairs was w idely accepted. But, as in Virginia,

Shapingan Informed Citizenry there was no consensus as to who bore the responsibility for achieving such a goal. Except in C onnecticut and M assachusetts, where an attenuated version o f a religious establishm ent survived, legislatures had term inated the state’s role in supporting religious instruction. Except in these two states, access to secular inform ation and education had always been achieved chiefly through private and voluntary means. Parents paid for as much schooling for their children as they were w illing or able to provide. Adults sought opportunities to enlarge their understanding o f public affairs to the extent determ ined by their occupation, social standing, resources, and temperament. T h e English heritage concerning public policy focused on a free press and flee public assem bly: that is, it prom oted restraints against governm ent interference rather than a positive gpvernm ent role. W ith only a few significant excep­ tions, this negative conception o f the state w ould prevail for generations in the United Su tes. Schools and libraries, debating clubs and lyceum s, politi­ cal parties and religious sects, as w ell as the newspapers and periodicals that flourished in every region— all these expansive, innovative agencies o f public instruction were private and voluntary. It is ironic, then, that the leaders o f the early republic who were m ost con­ cerned w ith assuring that the United Su tes w ould have an inform ed citi­ zenry directed m ost o f their attention to governm ent policy mther than private initiatives. In the United Su tes land ordinance o f 1785, Congress set aside a one-square-m ile lot in every new thirty-six-square-m ile western township in order to endow "the m aintenance o f public schools w ithin the said township.” Two years later, Congress reinforced its intentions by enact­ in g the northwest land ordinance, declaring that “religion, m orality, and knowledge, being necessary to good governm ent and the happiness o f man­ kind, schools and the means o f education shall forever be encouraged.”29 Evidently, national leaders viewed the defeat o f Jefferson’s bill in V irginia as o n ly a tem porary setback since they used his plan as a point o f departure in their carefully designed program s to erect m ultitiered public school systems. T h e Am erican Philosophical Society, whose members included m any o f the nation’s leading thinkers, even sponsored a contest in 1795 aim ed at deter­ m ining the best “plan for instituting and conducting public schools in this country.”50 Both Republicans such as Benjam in Rush and Federalists such as N oah W ebster were deeply engaged in the attem pt to design u tio n al mechanisms that w ould create a perpetual supply o f virtuous citizens to m aintain the re­ public and raise it to ever-higher levels o f production and civilization. Being inform ed was considered so critical to the proper exercise o f the duties o f cit-

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Shaping an Informed Citizenry izenship that in Rush’s 1786 plan for public schools in Pennsylvania, literacy was declared a voting requirem ent. Sim ultaneously, Rush asserted his b elief in the public necessity o f private virtue by requiring voters to prove their lit­ eracy by reading biblical passages. Twenty-four years later, the aging signer o f the D eclaration o f Independence would argue that uin a republic no m an should be a voter or a juror” w ithout knowledge o f “reading, w riting, and arithm etic.” 31 Thom as Jefferson sounded a sim ilar note in 1816, when, in the m idst o f the nationwide movement to end property restrictions on suffrage, he praised the wisdom o f “a principle entirely new to me” that was then be­ ing considered in Spain— “that no person, born after that day, should ever acquire the rights o f citizenship until he could read and w rite.”32 From the perspective o f the necessity o f an inform ed citizenry, this scheme made per­ fect sense. But John Adams pointed out its antirevolutionary im plications when he rem inded Rush in 1811 that this doctrine, if applied to the republic o f France, w ould im m ediately disenfranchise the m ajority and put their “ lives, fortunes, character. . . at the absolute disposal o f” a minority. In Adam s’s view, it was wiser and more just to prom ote “free schools, and all schools, colleges, academies and seminaries o f learning” than to restrict suffrage or citizenship by im posing literacy tests.33 T h e prevailing orientation o f such learned, cosm opolitan republicans in the 1780s, however, is suggested by the fact that one o f the American Philosophical Society’s prizewinning plans affirm ed that “ it is proper to re­ m ind parents that their children belong to the state” and that it was the duty o f the nation “to superintend and even coerce the education o f children,” w hile the other prizewinner advocated a “uniform system o f national educa­ tion.”34 Rom antic individualism , like Rousseau’s assertion o f the innate virtue and natural wisdom o f noble savages, was m isguided and w ould un­ derm ine the republican su te. Rush argued that “our com m on people be com pelled by law to give their children (what is com m only called) a good English education” rather than elite classical instruction. Eager to subordi­ nate private to public interests, in his “Address to the people o f the United Su tes,” Rush adm onished his fellow citizens that “every man in a republic is public property.”33 So steeped were these learned men in classical models that they expressed a m ost un-British, indeed, positively Rom an, confidence in the state, m odeling their notions o f citizenship on their readings o f Cicero and the history o f the Rom an republic.3* T h ey departed from tradition, British and Rom an, however, in the atten­ tion they gave to women’s education. To be sure, women w ould not be am ong those citizens w ho direedy possessed political responsibilities. But

Shaping an Informed Citizenry the Rom an m atron, w ho raised her sons as virtuous citizens and managed a civilized and productive household, was indirecdy vital to the w ell-being o f the state. T h is was one o f the reasons that the V irginia B ill for a M ore G eneral D iffusion o f Knowledge had provided for public education for girls, and it was w hy Benjam in Rush argued that in addition to their “usual train­ in g,” wom en should be taught “the principles o f liberty and governm ent, and the obligations o f patriotism .” N o less an authority than D avid Hum e had recommended “the study o f history for girls and women” because, he said, it “amuses the fancy, as it im proves the understanding, and as it strengthens virtue.” 37 W omen w ould not serve in the Senate or lay down their lives on the batdefield, but as m others and wives, they influenced men from the cradle to the grave. A s one legal educator noted, wom en shaped not on ly the m orality o f their offspring but also their sons* character as public speakers. M others and wives were critical in the form ation o f “great and good m en.” John Adam s went further, declaring that “ it is by the female w orld, that the greatest and best characters am ong men are form ed.”38 M oreover, Rush asserted, women’s approval was often “the principal reward o f the hero’s dangers and the patriot’s toils.” Consequendy, he m aintained, wom en’s education, like men’s, m ust not be left to private discretion; it was a public responsibility. A t the head o f the inform ed citizenry, a properly educated national elite should guide the U nited States, according to these leaders, and to assure the availability o f such an elite, they proposed the creation o f a national univer­ sity. George W ashington was one o f its earliest advocates, prom ising his own financial support for such a university even before the drafting o f the C onstitution.39 W artim e experience had convinced W ashington that m ixing together “young men from different parts o f the United States” caused them to shed “those jealousies and prejudices which one part o f the U nion had im ­ bibed against another part.” D uring the war, he had seen this process w ork dram atically, and he was sure nothing would be as effective in form ing a na­ tional leadership class as the creation o f an institution that fostered “the inti­ m ate intercourse o f characters in early life, w ho, in all probability, w ill be at the head o f the councils o f this country in a m ore advanced stage.”40 In Benjam in Rush’s view, Congress should create a “federal university. . . where the youth o f all states m ay be m elted (as it were) together into one mass o f cit­ izens.” Trained together in “the law o f nature and nations” as well as com par­ ative governm ent and history, agriculture, manufactures, commerce, applied sciences, and modern languages, this republican elite w ould “render the Am erican Revolution a blessing to m ankind.” Rush wanted to m aintain an

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Shaping an Informed Citizenry inform ed national leadership and to guard against “quacks in government” by legally requiring that thirty years after the national university was created, each person “chosen or appointed into power or office” m ust hold “a degree in the federal university.”41 Advocates o f an inform ed citizenry who were them­ selves leading men often favored some form o f elite nationalism . But the national university scheme, like Jefferson’s plan for public educa­ tion in V irginia, could never quite m uster the necessary political support. From the president’s first annual message to Congress in January 179 0 to his last w ill and testament, George W ashington remained an advocate o f a na­ tional university.41 D uring the early 1790s, both Joh n Adam s and Thom as Jefferson seriously considered bringing the entire faculty o f the U niversity o f G eneva to the United States as the foundation for such an institution, but by the tim e Adam s and Jefferson succeeded to the presidency, they no longer viewed the creation o f a national university as an urgent matter.43 N o t until Jam es M adison became president was the idea pressed forward again. Three tim es, in 1810 ,18 15, and 1816, M adison used his annual address to call upon Congress to establish “a national sem inary.” H is 1815 speech reworked the themes that W ashington had articulated a generation earlier: Such an institution claim s the patronage o f Congress as a m onum ent o f their solicitude for the advancement o f knowledge, w ithout which the blessings o f liberty can not be fu lly enjoyed or long preserved; as a model instructive in the form ation o f other sem inaries; as a nursery o f enlight­ ened preceptors, and as a central resort o f youth and genius from every part o f the country, diffusing on their return examples o f those national feelings, those liberal sentim ents, and those congenial manners which contribute cement to our U nion and strength to the great political fabric o f which that is the foundation.44 Although no one in Congress disputed President M adison’s ideas, like earlier proposals, they were blocked by congressmen protective o f states’ rights, w ary o f elitism , and averse to expanding the role o f the national government. D rawn from a w ide array o f backgrounds, and representing various edu­ cational institutions in their hom e districts, delegates refused to create a university. B y M adison’s era— indeed, from its beginnings in the W ashington ad­ m inistration— the national university proposal had m ajor sectional implica­ tions. W ashington him self had wanted to place the university in the District o f Colum bia not only because it was to be the permanent seat o f government and enjoyed a central location but also because, as he explained to Jefferson,

Shapingan Informed Citizenry "one h a lf (or near it) o f the d istria o f Colum bia, is w ithin the Com m on­ w ealth o f V irginia; and the whole o f the State is not inam venient thereto.”45 T h u s V irginians’ access to and influence on the national university w ould m agnify their role in shaping the culture o f the nation’s elite. But a generation later, because the old, established northern universities had emerged as quasinational centers for the education o f leaders, political considerations led Virginians to seek their own university rather than sup­ port a rival national institution. Thom as Jefferson, for exam ple, w ho had ear­ lier supported W ashingtons efforts, made no attem pt to advance M adisons proposal. H is goal was to create a first-class V irginia university that could com pete as a regional and national training ground for Am erican leaders. A s Jefferson explained to a fellow V irginia Republican: "W e are now trusting to those who are against us in position and principle, to fashion to their own form the m inds and affections o f our youth____We must have there [at northern seminaries] five hundred o f our own sons, im bibing opinions and principles in discord w ith their own country.” T h e seaion al conflict over M issouri statehood was, according to Jefferson, "the speck in our horizon w hich is to burst over us as a tornado sooner or later.” Consequendy, north­ ern colleges were "no longer proper for Southern or W estern students. T h e signs o f the times adm onish us to call them hom e. I f knowledge is power, we should look to its advancement at hom e.” A "real University” at hom e, one that could com pete w ith H arvard, Princeton, Colum bia, and the U niversity o f Pennsylvania, w ould become "the rallying centre o f the South and the W est.”46 Jefferson was so anxious to create a politically correct university that a few years later he went on to declare that although faculty members should oth­ erwise be free to select textbooks for their students, an exception should be m ade for political subjects. Politics was, uniquely, "a field in which heresies m ay be taught, o f so interesting a character to our own S u te and the United Su tes, as to make it a duty in us [the trustees] to lay down the principles which are to be u u g h t.”47 In the context o f religion, Jefferson w ould have condem ned such a d o arin e as a popish restriction on free inquiry. Alm ost forty years earlier, he had written in the Statute o f Religious Freedom that "to suffer the civil m agistute to intrude his powers into the field o f opinion, and to restrain the profession or propagation o f principles on supposition o f their ill tendency, is a dangerous fidlacy, which at once destroys all religious lib­ erty.”48 But Jefferson’s political anxieties were so acute in 1825, and his sense o f the particular m ission o f the U niversity o f V irginia so strong, that he was ready to make his university a center for his own political orthodoxy.

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Shaping an Informed Citizenry T h is shift from the plane o f high principle to that o f power politics was unusual in the discussion o f an inform ed citizenry am ong spokesm en o f sec­ ular enlightenm ent. But it resembled the hardheaded reasoning that had long been expressed by N ew England C alvinists seeking to m aintain their church establishm ent and their control over religion and education. Rejecting liberal pluralism as “that blind Catholicism, which is at present, w ith m any so popular,” one Massachusetts cleric preached a serm on entitled The D ifu sió n o f Correct Knowledge o f the True God, A Leading O bject ofthe Christian M inistry*9 “ Let us,” said another clergym an in a secular Indepen­ dence D ay oration in 1802, “revere the Christian Religion, as being above every thing else adapted to the preservation o f our freedom and systems o f policy.” 50 These men were worlds apart from Jefferson in their beliefs about religion and its proper role in public life, but like him , they were convinced that it was urgent that governm ent should take a positive role in assuring that the Am erican citizenry was truthfully inform ed. D eeply com m itted to their beliefs, no one could persuade Jefferson or the Yankee clergym en that their truth was not the truth. M oreover, the b elief in extensive governm ent-supported public education, whether at the national or state level and whether articulated by members o f the Am erican Philosophical Society and other elite cosm opolitans up and down the A dantic seaboard or by the C alvinist clergy o f N ew England, was rarely challenged in public manifestos. In fact, judging by public discussion, one could alm ost suppose that these cosm opolitan republicans and New England clergym en were m erely expressing a broad, nonpartisan consensus. But the history o f education bills in the su te legislatures indicates that even though the idea o f public education com m anded support and w on som e vic­ tories— sometimes at the prim ary level and sometimes at higher levels— that support was always lim ited and qualified so that the overall results were in­ consistent and piecemeal. Su tes readily accepted the congressional subsidies that were financed through western land sales to set up “ literary funds” used to support elem entary and/or higher education. Taxation, however, was a different matter and geneuted opposition rooted in both expediency and ide­ ology. Enthusiasm for a national education system was narrowly confined to a fraction o f the m ost cosm opolitan leaders, and no legislature adopted the idea that children belonged to the su te u th er than their parents.51 T h e precise character o f resistance to a m ultitiered national system varied from one su te to another, but the overall pattem o f responses displayed com m on themes and opeuted at all levels o f governm ent from New England to the South. Jealousies am ong the propertied classes and between

Shaping an Informed Citizenry them and the poor influenced every discussion o f public measures, especially w hen taxation or public spending was at stake. Voluntary, private alterna­ tives for prom oting an inform ed citizenry operated as barriers to whole­ hearted support o f public program s. In spite o f their unanim ous rhetorical com m itm ent to the principle o f an inform ed citizenry, in practice Am er­ icans did not agree on precisely what the principle m eant or w hat sacrifices should be made, and by whom , to achieve such a goal. A s had been true in England, one o f the first concerns was the education o f the poor. O perating on the assum ption that “affluent and independent” citizens could send their own children to private “colleges and academ ies,” the plan that Benjam in Rush proposed in 1787 for Philadelphia was aim ed at “the hum ble and indigent classes o f the people.” It proposed that “ f r e e sc h o o l s ”

be subsidized by public funds. A nticipating resistance to taxation

from “the affluent and independent,” Rush pointed out that “the children o f poor people” were powerful social actors both in the present and over the long run. Echoing arguments that had been expressed three generations ear­ lier on behalf o f London charity schools, Rush asserted that “their ignorance and vice when neglected are not confined to themselves; they associate w ith and contam inate the children o f persons in the higher ranks.”52 In the United States, however, Rush claim ed, the situation was m ore ur­ gent than it had ever been in London. In Am erica, when these poor children grew up, they w ould help select “rulers w ho govern the whole com m unity.” T h e outcom e could be disastrous. “ I f the com m on people are ignorant and vicious,” Rush warned, “a republican nation can never be long free.” C linching the argum ent w ith an explicit appeal to self-interest and patrio­ tism , he concluded that “as we love our offspring and v a lu e . . . our coun­ try,” we m ust “provide for the education o f the poor children.”55 Rushs poor childrens curriculum , however, did not so much prepare them for active political roles as assure that they w ould grow into productive, orderly, virtuous adults. “Above all,” he advised, “ let both sexes be carefully instructed in . . . the Christian religion.” T h is training w ould make them “good husbands, good w ives, honest mechanics, industrious burners, peace­ able sailors, a n d . . . good citizens.” For this reason, Rush urged that indi­ vidual churches be given public funds to set up free schools under clerical supervision.54 T h is plan addressed several com m on political obstacles. In the first place, the drain on public revenues w ould be com paratively m odest since taxes w ould pay for only the poor. In addition, although no one church w ould be given preference, every Christian denom ination in Philadelphia w ould have

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Shaping an Informed Citizenry the opportunity to train its own poor w ith the support o f public subsidies. B y joining secular and religious self-interest w ith com m unity spirit, Rushs plan drew on deep, broadly shared values. Yet the proposal for tax-supported free schools could also be seen as a kind o f com pulsory charity that violated the voluntary principle. W hereas taxation to support m ilitary defense and the adm inistration o f law and justice had always been m andatory, support for education had long been optional. O nly in N ew England had a different tradition reigned, but popular rep­ resentative governm ent did nothing to strengthen this tradition. In 1775 Sam uel Adam s bemoaned the fact that “some o f our towns have dismissed their School masters, alledging that the extraordinary Expence o f defending the C ountry renders them unable to support them .” Adam s utged that “the leading Gendem en” counteract this m ovem ent “ by im pressing upon the M inds o f the People, the Necessity and Im portance o f encouraging that System o f Education.” ** As the war dragged on, the problem that Adam s had identified at the outset became so acute that in the 1782 M assachusetts elec­ tion serm on, his cousin the Reverend Zabdiel Adam s warned the state s lead­ ers that “the prom otion o f learning demands the attention o f the civil authority.” C ertainly no one “expected that all should be philosophers,” the clergym an explained, but everyone “ought to be taught the rudim ents o f sci­ ence.” Reverend Adams applauded the form ation o f new private academies and the continuing support for H arvard, but that was not enough. “T h e in­ finite necessity o f diffusing intelligence am ong the body o f the people,” Adam s declared, required that “schools should be m aintained at the public expense, for this purpose.” 56 T h is appeal for public schools at a tim e when N ew England clergym en were suffering cruelly from wartim e inflation and im portuning their towns for paym ent o f arrears in their salaries was espe­ cially telling. T h e Revolution was eroding tax support for education even in the region where it seemed m ost secure. W hen John Adam s reflected on the problem o f an inform ed citizenry dur­ ing the m id-i78os from the vantage point o f his diplom atic post in London, he, too, was convinced that tax-based public education was absolutely essen­ tial, notwithstanding the fundam ental political obstacles blocking its realiza­ tion. “T h e whole people must take upon themselves the education o f the whole people,” he believed, “and must be w illing to bear the expenses o f it” as a m atter o f principle. Adam s believed that charitable endowm ents had a place but that in a republic they were not the proper w ay to support educa­ tion. “There should not be a district o f one m ile square, w ithout a school in it,” he declared, “not founded by a charitable individual, but m aintained at

Shaping an Infinmed Citizenry the expense o f the people themselves.” 57 T h e curriculum should supply in­ struction not only for the people’s "m oral duties” but also for "their political and civil duties.” T h is education was not just for "the rich and noble,” or just fo r the poor, but for "every rank and class o f people, down to the lowest and the poorest.” To end tyranny, Adam s believed, nations m ust com m it them­ selves to the policy that "no hum an being shall grow up in ignorance.”58 But John Adam s, like his cousins Sam uel and Zabdiel, knew that such a policy was easier to proclaim than to im plem ent. A s one who had been inti­ m ately acquainted w ith local politics in the decades before independence, as a selectm an and the son o f a selectman in Braintree, M assachusetts, and as a Boston delegate to the legislature, Adam s knew all about education and tax resistance. In contradiction to enlightened political wisdom , "such is the m iserable blindness o f m ankind,” he adm itted, that "it is very doubtful w hether the pitiful m otive o f saving the expense w ould not w holly extin­ guish public education.” Reflecting upon his own reading in political history and his personal experience w ith dem ocracy in the town and in the legisla­ ture, Joh n Adam s believed that i f "the people in one assem bly ruled all,” w ithout the leadership o f an enlightened upper house, it was unlikely that an y people anywhere w ould be "so generous and intelligent, as to m aintain schools and universities at the public expense.” Adam s feared that "the stinginess, the envy, and the m alignity o f the base and ignorant, w ould be flattered by the artful and designing, and the education o f every fam ily left to its own expense, that the rich only m ight have their children educated.” 59 Experience had taught Adam s that "too large a portion o f the People and their Representatives, had rather starve their Souls than draw upon their purses to pay for nourishm ent o f them .”60 A s caustic as his analysis was, w ith respect to public expenditures, it was rem arkably prophetic. N ot surpris­ ingly, those w ho had the m ost real-life experience w ith popular governm ent anticipated its lim itations. In V irginia, where the tradition o f a tax-supported church was repudiated in the 1780s, the m ovem ent toward a tax-supported education system was halting at best. T h e general situation that Adam s had predicted, that "the ed­ ucation o f every fam ily [would be] left to its own expense,” prevailed in a state where suspicion toward governm ent and b elief in the voluntary princi­ ple was stronger than in N ew England. In 1786 Jefferson preached "a crusade against ignorance” through his "law for educating the com m on people,” proclaim ing that "the tax which w ill be paid for this purpose is not more than the thousandth part o f what w ill be paid to [the] kings, priests and no­ bles w ho w ill rise up am ong us if we leave the people in ignorance.” But nei-

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Shaping an Informed Citizenry ther a m ajority in the House o f Burgesses nor a m ajority o f their constituents hastened to act. Years later, when he was president o f the U nited States, Jefferson m ore accurately expressed V irginians’ thinking when he stated that although "education i s . . . am ong the articles o f public care,” he would not "take its ordinary branches out o f the hands o f private enterprise, which manages so much better all the concerns to which it is equal.” 61 W ith such am bivalent support from their m ost prom inent advocate, tax-supported public schools did not move forward. A t this tim e, however, Jefferson reported the m ultiplication o f "petty academies,” which to his scorn were "springing up in every neighborhood.” As late as 1813, Jefferson claim ed he was still hopeful that the public school plan in his B ill for the M ore General D iffusion o f Knowledge— now thirtyfive years old— w ould be enacted as "the key-stone o f the arch o f our gov­ ernm ent.”61 But this never happened. A s Jefferson explained in his 1821 "Autobiography,” his bill was revised in the legislature so that his plan would fail. Each county was empowered to decide for itself whether to implement the plan and, i f so, to finance it w ith local taxes. T h is made public education a m atter o f local option and thus "w ould throw on wealth the education of the poor.” Since the men who ran the counties "were generally o f the more w ealthy class, [they] were unw illing to incur that burden.” Regretfully, Jefferson reponed that "it was not suffered to com m ence in a single county.” W hat another V irginian called "a m ost deplorable destitution o f public spirit” was evident in a society where few were w illing to look "beyond the confines o f their own private affairs.”65 Jam es M adison, who had originally shepherded Jefferson’s plan in the House o f Burgesses, believed these actions resulted from "a hasty and su­ perficial view o f the subject.” T he “people at large” believed they had no in­ terest in higher education since their sons w ould not enjoy the benefits direcdy, w hile the rich regarded the education o f the poor and m iddling as no concern o f theirs. T h is analysis o f the politics o f education echoed, in some respects, that o f John Adam s. But M adison offered an argum ent that he hoped w ould encourage men o f all classes to recognize that by their mea­ sures they were providing "not m erely for the existing generation, but for succeeding ones as w ell.” In V irginia and throughout the U nited States, there was "a constant rotation o f property.” A nticipating the common m axim that in Am erica social and econom ic m obility moved men "from shirtsleeves to shirtsleeves in three generations,” M adison argued that "the rich man, when contributing to a permanent plan for the education o f the poor, ought to reflect that he is providing for that o f his own descendants;

Shapingan Infitrmed Citizenry and the poor man who concurs in a provision for those w ho are not poor that at no distant day it m ay be enjoyed by descendants from him self.” M adison, who was him self in his early seventies, observed that "it does not require a long life to witness these vicissitudes o f fortune.”64 M adisons defense o f public expenditures for education, whether justified b y the prom ise o f broad advantages— political, m oral, econom ic— in the here and now or across the generations, appealed chiefly to those w ho were already sym pathetic. Throughout m uch o f the nation, as in the South, tax re­ sistance, sectarian jealousies over w ho w ould control the system and for whose benefit, as w ell as a m ultitude o f regional and jurisdictional differences all com bined to make education m osdy a local and voluntary affair operating w ithin flexible state guidelines.65 Indeed, some believed that this was the best solution. T h ey opposed public school establishments just as they resisted church establishm ents. Both, it was asserted, were founded on the unduly gloom y b elief that com m on people were naturally vicious and thus required com pulsory indoctrination. Ju st as N ew Lights believed that men and wom en could find religious truth freely, so it was said that hum anity’s nat­ ural, inquisitive spirit w ould lead Am ericans to inform themselves through voluntary means.66 A s it turned out, during the two generations from 1776 through 1826, the idea o f a nationally defined and generated program for the form ation o f an inform ed citizenry never flourished in the United States. True, elements o f positive governm ent support existed nationally. T h e 1785 United States land ordinance required that land be set aside for schools in every new township, and later Congresses furnished subsidies to the states to further their educa­ tional efforts.67 T h e U .S. governm ent also sponsored the creation o f an ex­ tensive postal system to enable newspapers to circulate nationally and subsidized their distribution to make them w idely available. State govern­ m ents, too, made provisions for public education. But at the national level, the ruling principle was usually a policy o f empowerm ent o f states and local­ ities rather than direct governm ent support. Although early national leaders were sometimes reluctant to accept it, releasing the energies o f groups and individuals and encouraging their initiatives to engage in all sorts o f politi­ cal, econom ic, and cultural activities were more popular politically than any national, centralized, tax-supported program .68 In N ew York, the anti-Federalist governor, George C linton, urged the 179 2 legislature to prom ote "sem inaries o f learning” because "the diffusion o f knowledge is essential to the prom otion o f virtue and the preservation o f lib-

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Shapingan Informed Citizenry erty.” Ten years later, he sought “encouragem ent o f com m on schools” inas­ much as “the advantages to m orals, religion, liberty and good governm ent arising from the general diffusion o f knowledge” were “universally adm it­ ted.”69 W hat was not universally accepted, C linton had learned, was any particular scheme to supply the state with com m on schools. O nly in 1812, af­ ter another decades w orth o f political m aneuvering, did the N ew York legis­ lature adopt a durable arrangement. Significandy, this plan drew on program s that had been set up in the 1790s, whereby the su te supplied up to one-half o f local school costs. N ew York required all local com m unities to take the initiative in 1812 and thereafter. T h e com m unity w ould supply a school building w ithin which a sute-reim bursed teacher w ould instruct children in “reading, w riting, arithm etic, and the principles o f morality,” preferably including the reading o f chapters from the Bible at the opening and closing o f the school day.7° Except for Bible-reading, the public consensus regarding the curriculum was confined narrowly to a focus on skills rather than substance. A s the leg­ islative repon o f 1812 explained: Reading, w riting, arithm etic, and the principles o f m orality, are essential to every person, however hum ble his situation in life. W ithout the first, it is im possible to receive those lessons o f m orality, which are inculcated in the w ritings o f the learned and pious; nor is it possible to become ac­ quainted w ith our political constitutions and laws; nor to decide those great political questions, which ultim ately are referred to the intelligence o f the people. W riting and arithm etic are indispensable in the manage­ m ent o f ones private affairs, and to facilitate ones com m erce w ith the w orld. M orality and religion are the foundation o f all that is truly great and good, and are consequendy o f prim ary im portance. A person pro­ vided w ith these acquisitions, is enabled to pass through the w orld re­ spectably and successfully.71 In the N orth, at least, providing the basic means for citizens to educate themselves was politically appealing because it was relatively inexpensive and did not dem and that a divided, heterogeneous electorate reach agreement as to the specific inform ation the public ought to com m and. W ithin states such as N ew York and V irginia, as in the nation as a whole, representative politics precluded the adoption o f uniform , centralized, European-style sys­ tems to inform or indoctrinate the citizenry w ith some particular body o f knowledge. Even w ithin com m unities as sm all and hom ogeneous as a Connecticut school district (o f which there were often eight to twelve in a

Shapingan Informed Citizenry single township), each fam ily selected the textbooks its own children w ould read; nothing o f substance was centrally prescribed. Broadly speaking, re­ sponsibility for shaping the specific characteristics o f Am erica’s inform ed cit­ izenry was left to fam ilies, individuals, and the cultural m arketplace. T h is is w hy the m ost dram atic, far-reaching developm ents in the elabora­ tion o f ideas concerning an inform ed citizenry occurred in the private sector. H ere decentralized, private, voluntary movements sprang up and m ultiplied on an unprecedented scale. T h e great statesmen, such as Joh n Adam s, Thom as Jefferson, and Jam es M adison, who advocated the idea o f an in­ form ed citizenry prim arily for defensive reasons— to safeguard liberty from tyrants and demagogues— never saw all o f their favorite public inform ation schemes enacted into law. Still, they witnessed the emergence o f a great vol­ untary m ovement to make it possible for citizens to acquire inform ation in order to become empowered socially, culturally, and politically— to become inform ed in order to enrich and im prove their lives. T h e foundation o f this m ovem ent— which was carried forw ard in the press, in public speaking, and in a wide array o f voluntary associations— was the ideal that these statesmen had articulated and prom oted so assiduously. It was true that people were reluctant to em ploy state power to require peo­ ple to be inform ed; but it was also true, as the response to Common SenseYa suggested in 1776 , that m any Am ericans believed that being inform ed was a necessary part o f their citizenship. A s long as being inform ed did not require deference and as long as it was voluntary, they exhibited a huge appetite for inform ation. M oreover, because Am ericans were a diverse people w ithout centralized institutions, w ith no one prescribed orthodoxy in religion or pol­ itics, their hunger for inform ation prom oted a self-intensifying com petition am ong messages and m edia for public attention.72 N o clearly defined consensus as to the body o f knowledge citizens should possess, no canon for an inform ed citizenry, ever emerged. Even am ong such enlightened reformers as Joh n Adam s, Thom as Jefferson, Jam es M adison, Benjam in Rush, and N oah Webster, men who broadly concurred in their b elief in an inform ed citizenry, m ajor differences existed in their views on the aim s and the content o f the citizens ideal curriculum . Som e favored in­ form ation that w ould assist direcdy in the defense o f political liberty. O thers believed that C hristianity m ust have priority. Advocates o f practical educa­ tion argued that the public good was best served by prom oting individual m aterial prosperity and happiness. T h e self-sacrificing classical republican com m itm ent to the public over the private good that was prom inent in 1780s rhetoric waned w ith each passing decade.

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Shaping an Informed Citizenry A s early as 1776 , John Adam s was arguing that the study o f geography was "absolutely necessary” not only for "every Person o f public character” but also for "M erchants.”73 Alm ost fifty years later, Jam es M adison argued that be­ yond "Reading, W riting, & Arithm etic,” the usual curriculum for "the poor,” geography was essential, including the study o f "the Solar System ,” which w ould "expand the m ind and gratify curiosity.” Inform ation o f this sort, M adison said, was a substitute for travel and w ould "weaken local prejudices and enlarge the sphere o f benevolent feelings.” It also fostered "a general taste for History, an inexhaustible fund o f entertainm ent & instruction.”74 Political knowledge could be gained from newspapers after the frame­ w ork for interpreting its significance had been established through acquiring knowledge o f geography and history. In addition, Noah Webster, the educa­ tor and lexicographer, recommended that in the United Su tes "every class o f people should know and love the laws . . . by means o f schools and newspa­ pers.”75 From this perspective, the ch ief reason to foster an inform ed citi­ zenry was political. To others, however, the m ost critical objective o f public education was re­ ligious knowledge. For m any Evangelicals, no other type o f knowledge was nearly as im portant, but they believed that the best role for the su te in this process was to get out o f the way. In contrast, orthodox Anglicans and Congregationalists w ho supported religious esublishm ents and Presbyteri­ ans like Benjam in Rush believed public education should be synonymous w ith Christian education. Nondenom inational Protestant instruction, they argued, was essential to social morality. Indeed, Rush asserted that "without religion,” by which he meant Protestantism , "learning does real m ischief to the morals and principles o f m ankind.”76 Joh n Adam s, w ho had w ritten pro­ visions for a religious esublishm ent into the Massachusetts constitution, also believed that "no other Institution for Education, no kind o f political D iscipline, could diffuse this kind o f necessary [moral] Inform ation, so uni­ versally am ong all Ranks and D escriptions o f C itizen s. . . [as] the Christian R eligion.”77 Rush even went so far as to claim that Satan "never invented a m ore effectual means o f extirpating C hristianity from the w orld than by per­ suading m ankind that it was im proper to read the Bible at schools.”78 Rush exaggeuted. In the United Su tes, at least, Bible reading was one o f the few elements irt the elem entary curriculum — other than basic liteu cy and num eracy— that enjoyed general support. So ordinary, indeed, was the p u ctice that the orthodox Congregationalist Noah W ebster claim ed that the Bible was "as com m on as a newspaper and in schools is read w ith nearly the same degree o f respect.” As W ebster saw it, religious instruction belonged in

Shapingan Informed Citizenry the hom e and fam ily, not in the school. Biblical passages dealing w ith his­ to ry and m orality could make valuable school texts, but using the Scriptures profanely for literacy training, W ebster argued, dim inished the power o f the sacred text.79 N oah W ebster certainly shared the view that religion inculcated necessary private virtues like honesty, orderliness, and industry, but in advocating an inform ed citizenry, his am bitions were much broader and included practical as w ell as political objectives. “W hen I speak o f a diffusion o f know ledge. . . necessary for the yeom anry in a republican state,” W ebster declared, “ I do not mean m erely a knowledge o f spelling books and the N ew Testam ent.” T h is, after all, was no m ore than what a charity school in O ld England m ight provide. In contrast, W ebster advocated a school curriculum that would fur­ nish “an acquaintance w ith ethics and w ith the general principles o f law, com m erce, money, and governm ent.” Textbooks and newspapers, he be­ lieved, could be vehicles for supplying these kinds o f inform ation.80 A nother approach to practical education was more explicidy utilitarian. According to the English-born Delaware journalist Robert Coram , the pur­ pose o f universal, state-supplied education should be to enable inhabitants Mto provide for subsistence in civil society,” in other words, to earn a living. T h is meant instruction “ in arts as well as sciences,” including arithm etic, bookkeeping, natural history, m echanics, and husbandry. Believing that “a becom ing [economic] independency” for all should be the objective in a re­ public, he insisted that instruction in religion, manners, and foreign or dead languages should be specifically excluded.81 Subjects like these were essen­ tially private matters o f parental discretion, not public responsibilities. A ntipathy to training in languages was partly based on the conviction that foreign and classical languages were m erely ornam ental elements o f an aristo­ cratic education and hence im practical. Benjam in Franklin, who favored ed­ ucation in modern languages, believed that tim e spent on ancient languages was inefficient. But there were also those who opposed the m oral im purities they believed French novels and classical literature could convey. Benjam in Rush consistendy opposed reading the classics because, he told Joh n Adam s, “hum an intellects are brutalized by being stuffed in early life w ith such offal learning.” As for as the Philadelphia physician was concerned, “were every G reek and Latin book (the N ew Testament excepted) consum ed in a bonfire, the w orld w ould be the wiser and the better for it.” Rush classed such books “w ith N egro slavery and spirituous liq uo rs,. . . as, though in a less degree, unfriendly to the progress o f m orals, knowledge, and religion in the United States.” Joh n Adam s, Rushs fellow signer o f the Declaration o f Independence

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Shaping an Informed Citizenry and fellow advocate o f a citizenry inform ed by Christian principles, dismissed Rushs position as nonsense. “ I should as soon think o f closing all m y window shutters, to enable me to see, as o f banishing the Classicks, to improve Republican ideas,” he replied to Rush.8* Clearly, when those w ho advocated public measures to assure an inform ed citizenry could not agree on whether a subject as fundam ental as classical learning should be included in the educa­ tional diet o f republican citizens, no single canon could be said to prevail. T h e m eaning o f "practical education” could also be quite broad. Whereas, on the one hand, Benjam in Rush’s interpretation could be narrowly utilitar­ ian— the public must be inform ed o f the dangerous effects o f “drinking cold water” in summer when they "were heated by labor”— the Jeffersonian jour­ nalist Sam uel H arrison Sm ith pursued a com prehensive vision. In one o f the Am erican Philosophical Society’s prize-winning essays, Sm ith argued that natural philosophy— the sciences— should be taught in order to promote individual happiness as well as national wealth. Farmers and mechanics, Sm ith explained, w ould be more productive if they were introduced to basic chem istry and physics. Instruction in history, moreover, w ould not only in­ form all classes o f citizens about power, politics, and war but also teach ethics by providing exam ples, both good and bad. T hus trained, citizens would be virtuous republicans and possess an individual "happiness” that, Sm ith as­ serted, "w ill gready depend upon the general diffusion o f knowledge and a capacity to think and speak correcdy.”*3 T h is sort o f practical educadon reached beyond mere productivity to a secular kind o f personal and private fulfillm ent, an objective that w ould enjoy great popularity in the middle decades o f the nineteenth century. T h e contention over what, exactly, "practical” knowledge m eant, or what subjects and topics should be taught, was part o f a larger struggle to identify and establish a cultural orthodoxy for the new republic. A m ong the difficul­ ties in resolving this conflict, however, was the fact that a m ajor, universally accepted principle o f republican ideology was that truth should be estab­ lished in the context o f free and open inquiry and debate. Consequently, no one was required to defer to the cultural judgm ents o f others. Truth should vanquish error by persuasion, and thus contention was widespread. Com petition even w ithin particular types o f printed materials in addition to com petition between such inform ation mediums as print, oratory, and voluntary organizations was widespread.84 Alm anacs, for exam ple, had been fairly standard in the eighteenth century. D esigned to sell w ithin a particular regional market as defined by latitude and com m ercial networks, they varied m ostly because o f the personal tastes or idiosyncrasies o f their publishers.

Shaping an Informed Citizenry B u t in the early republic, and especially after 1800, they lost their generic identity. Alm anacs carrying the neutral name o f their printers were w idely supplanted by almanacs identified as Christian, temperance, farm ers, me­ chanics, or antislavery, am ong others. Inform ation as seem ingly innocuous as that contained in an alm anac was packaged according to the cultural pref­ erences o f a segmented market.85 T h e same kind o f developm ent was characteristic o f periodicals, which were increasingly tailored to specific audiences. B y 1830, every movement and every denom ination, and alm ost every trade and occupation, seemed to have its own m onthly journal. Technical and scientific inform ation, some­ tim es called "useful knowledge,” was also conveyed to various audiences in specialized magazines. A process o f specialization was under w ay that sim ul­ taneously served the needs o f efficiency and personal identity. In fact, the contents o f m any publications w ith specialized labels, such as the Christian H erald an d Seam ans M agazine, which was published in N ew York C ity from 1816 to 1824, overlapped w ith more general publications. A t the same tim e, however, they possessed a distinct character and appeal.86 Am erican culture exhibited some unexpected paradoxes. M any o f the sam e citizens w ho adam antly rejected com pulsory deference voluntarily em­ braced a kind o f cultural deference. Although they felt that no Adam s, Jeffer­ son, or M adison should prescribe their behavior, m any com m on men aspir­ ing to higher ranks hastened to emulate the cultural preferences o f the upper classes. T h is "dem ocratization o f gentility” affected a wide range o f tastes in personal fashion, furniture, architecture, and manners.87 It also influenced notions about learning and the idea o f being politically inform ed. Books, newspapers, reading, and education generally became fashionable. Tax sup­ port for public secondary schools was rare, but private academies and social li­ braries flourished. Th e inform ed citizen was in vogue in republican Am erica. T h e public goal o f universal education was extensively and variously pur­ sued as a private, voluntary enterprise. In 1789, for exam ple, a N ew Jersey printer founded the Christians, Scholars, an d Farm ers M agazine, which he hoped w ould sell w idely by providing instruction in the liberal arts to traders and shopkeepers as well as farm ers and mechanics. Believing that all kinds o f citizens "should possess considerable degrees o f Literature,” the publisher aim ed to provide his subscribers w ith college training at hom e, w ithout de­ m anding that they know Latin.88 To judge by the polite magazines o f the early republic, all sorts o f inform ation, from the culture o f turnips and the m anagem ent o f bees to the meanings o f Hebrew and Anglo-Saxon words, should be mastered.89

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Shaping an Informed Citizenry Newspapers, too, became repositories for inform ation about the natural w orld, history, politics, and culture. T h e Reverend W illiam Bentley, a cele­ brated Massachusetts polym ath, spent much o f his career preparing news di­ gests that provided the public with a comprehensive stream o f inform ation on public affairs, natural and ecclesiastical history', and scientific advances. Enlightenm ent-bred optim ism led Bentley’, like other Jeffersonian intellec­ tuals, to hope that the challenge o f creating the inform ed citizenry the re­ public needed could be fulfilled by m aking knowledge broadly available. I f people were given access to the refreshing streams o f inform ation, they would drink.90 Although this optim ism was not universal, in the h alf century following the War for Independence, the expansion o f Am erican printing and publish­ ing, the rise o f Am erican learned societies, and the spread o f voluntary asso­ ciations rendered it plausible. It w'as, after all. a m atter o f established fact that private initiatives for prom oting an inform ed citizenry were flourishing as never before and on a com prehensive scale that overshadowed govern­ ment-sponsored schooling. O ne emblem o f the realization o f this vision was the lyccum movement that began in the late 1820s. Initiated in Boston by the im m igrant m echanic Tim othy C laxton, who joined w ith the Yale-educated Yankee Josiah H olbrook, the lyceum movement had roots in the British cam paign to spread useful technical inform ation via m echanics' institutes. A t first, the lyccum s emphasized popular scientific subjects, including physics, chem istry, and geology. But after H olbrook redirected the orienta­ tion o f the lyceum movement toward fam ilies in the 1830s, their content be­ came more eclectic. General adult education, including geography, history, and literature in addition to science, broadened the m ovem ent to include clerks and farmers as well as women and youth o f both sexes. In the 1830s and 1840s, as lyccum s sought and achieved ever greater popularity across the nation, the uncertain balance between useful and entertaining knowledge shifted toward the latter. Judgm ents about which topics were useful and which were m erely entertaining, such as the hugely popular subject o f phrenology, were bound to be subjective.91 T h e concept o f “useful knowledge,” which from the tim e o f Francis Bacon had joined the m aterial and practical to the speculative and cultural, came to be all-encom passing. C are o f the body as well as the soul could be served by advances in inform ation, as could care o f the farm , the shop, and the store. Attention to the practical advantages to be gained from the circu­ lation o f inform ation was not new— Benjam in Franklin had published a “ Proposal for Prom oting Useful Knowledge am ong the British Plantations

Shapingan Informed Citizenry in Am erica” in 1743— but now, in contrast to 1743, Am ericans responded through their reading preferences and their associational activity.92 T h e en­ lightenm ent o f practical im provem ents that Franklin cham pioned, as well as the cultural enrichm ent and social elevation his own career em bodied, pos­ sessed a broad appeal in a society where both the means o f production and the am bition to advance were w idely distributed. T h e predom inant concerns o f the cosm opolitan leaders who m ost assidu­ ously prom oted an inform ed citizenry— Adam s, Jefferson, M adison, and Franklin— were secular. Such republican leaders recognized the im portance o f religious inform ation only to the degree that it secured social and political benefits in this w orld, as the Massachusetts constitution stated. But there were other voices in the early republic for whom an inform ed citizenry m eant being inform ed regarding the vital facts o f dam nation and salvation. Largely separated from the Radical W hig preoccupation w ith political lib­ erty or from any social aspiration toward republican gentility, tens o f thou­ sands o f people who viewed republican civic culture w ith a skeptical eye expressed a powerful demand for inform ation focused on the next w orld.93 A s the Second G reat Awakening unfolded, those w ho were engaged in this m ovem ent seldom contributed direcdy to public discussions o f the idea o f an inform ed citizen, but their interest in freely developing evangelical infor­ m ation and production and distribution networks worked to buttress the entire private and voluntary inform ation m arketplace politically as well as econom ically. A nd like their secular counterparts, Evangelicals were ready to innovate and to em ploy the whole panoply o f publications and associational activities. Consequently, the Am erican Tract Society, organized by Evangeli­ cals in the 1820s, became the great pioneer in the use o f stereotype printing plates for mass printing in the U nited States in addition to form ing the first nationwide distribution network.94 T h e same enabling legislation and pref­ erential postal rates that fostered the spread o f secular inform ation applied equally to the efforts o f religious groups. These several kinds o f com m itm ent to an inform ed citizenry— political, social, practical, and religious— supplied the im petus that led Am ericans to m ake print, which had long been a scarce com m odity, into one o f the ubiq­ uitous necessities o f life.95T h ey led Am ericans to merge their drive for infor­ m ation w ith their sociability, a characteristic Alexis de Tocqueville called the "natural social principle,” by form ing and patronizing thousands o f volun­ tary associations in the decades between 1780 and 1830.96 To be sure, re­ gional variations existed. In the N orth, where a more densely setded, egalitarian social system operated and where econom ic developm ent and

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Shapingan informed Citizenry transportation networks stim ulated each other, the m ovem ent for an in­ form ed citizenry was more pronounced and reached a greater portion o f the free population than in the South. But in the South, too, the same interest in reading and the same penchant for voluntary associations were growing.97 O ne evocative m anifestation o f the several cultural tendencies that were converging was a resolution published in 1833 by the Petersburg, V irginia, chapter o f the Am erican Bible Society. Q uoting an injunction in the book o f Isaiah that “the earth shall be frill o f the knowledge o f the Lord,” the Virginians resolved “that the w orld shall be supplied w ith the H oly Scriptures in twenty years.” Recognizing a “responsibility resting upon Christians for the universal diffusion o f the sacred Scriptures,” the national organization form ulated a plan to furnish Bibles “to all the inhabitants o f the earth accessi­ ble to Bible agents, and who m ay be w illing to receive, and able to read, that sacred book.” 98 Such a resolution could never have passed a state legislature or won tax support; also, originating in a region where one-third o f the inhabi­ tants were slaves who were w idely forbidden literacy by statute, it expressed a peculiar irony. Still, the gpals stated in the Am erican Bible Society resolution illustrate one o f the m any variant form s that the ideal o f an inform ed citizeniy took in the early republic. Enlightened and rom antic at the same tim e, and blending the Christian idealism o f encom passing all the peoples o f the world w ith the practical recognition that Bibles were only useful to those w ho could read, the project indicates the kinds o f m otives that were operating freely in the com petitive environm ent o f early republican political culture. Education prom oted both secular and religious objectives. Good Christians w ould be good citizens. As a Massachusetts Unitarian clergyman explained in an 1806 Independence D ay oration, “ T h e elem entary plan of education, which is extended to the rich and the poor, which embraces the whole mass o f our citizens,” w ould prom ote “the ability to understand our religion, in its evidence, its spirit and design; by which men are guarded again st. . . su perstition,. . . the delusions o f enthusiasm , and are enabled to direct their religious observances to real attainm ents in m oral life.”99 Chris­ tianity itself was “above everything else adapted to the preservation o f our freedom .” 100 N ow its advocates proclaim ed that the idea o f an inform ed cit­ izenry, which had first been shaped by the political needs o f Renaissance gen­ tlem en, should be extended to include virtually every living soul on earth and need have nothing whatever to do w ith the state. W hereas the primary objective for Adam s, Jefferson, Rush, and their generation o f political leaders had been to secure the Am erican republic by means o f creating an informed citizenry, other voices were shifting the emphasis to an inform ed humanity.

Shapingan Informed Citizenry T h e universalism o f the Am erican Bible Society scheme to place the H oly Scriptures in every hand represents the alm ost boundless reach o f the idea o f an inform ed citizenry in the early republic. In practice, however, the idea’s reach was far m ore restricted. T h e slave system , for exam ple, barred the real­ ization o f a universal ideal because slave preaching was carefully m onitored and literacy was often forbidden to slaves by state statutes and inform al pro­ hibitions am ong masters that were extended and strengthened in the 1830s and 1840s. T h e core tradition, after all, had never been universal; it was na­ tional, secular, and political, and it focused on enfranchised citizens. Liberty and just governm ent com bined w ith enlightened inquiry and progress were the ideals that were emphasized as connected to an inform ed citizenry in thousands o f Independence D ay orations, political speeches, and newspaper com m entaries as w ell as in the charters o f schools, colleges, libraries, debat­ in g societies, and lyceum s. T h e political benefits o f a broad diffusion o f knowledge am ong citizens, regarded as critical for repelling the greedy m arch o f am bition and tyranny, remained central to Am erican beliefe. Nevertheless, the ideal o f an inform ed citizenry shifted significandy dur­ in g the early decades o f the nineteenth century. T h e acute anxiety that the Revolutionary W ar generation o f leaders had expressed over tyranny and the survival o f the United States led Adam s and Jefferson to advocate a m ajor role for the state in education. To them , it appeared that the republican state m ust require its citizens to be inform ed in order to assure its own perma­ nency. In the wake o f the French Revolution and the election o f Thom as Jefferson, Federalists, especially, were w orried about the direction education w ould take. "B y education the tender youth m ay be fitted for treason, strat­ agem , and death,” a Federalist orator warned in 1802, "or they m ay be trained up for order, peace, and happiness. M uch depends on the systems o f education.” Such dangers were not m erely hypothetical since "the disorga­ n ize» o f the present day” were indeed "infusing into the minds o f the young the principles o f disorder, and training them up for anarchists.” Early in the century, such frenzied reactions— including anathemas against atheism , skepticism , and "sending abroad the fairer part o f creation in the attire o f a fem ale Greek”— were voiced even by advocates o f public education.101 Jo h n Adam s, who expressed the m ost profound and durable com m itm ent to public education, was not hysterical but m erely skeptical due to his b elief that the problem s o f creating an inform ed citizenry involved more than par­ tisanship. Som e were structural. Although he believed ultim ately in the judgm ents o f public opinion, in every society, m onarchical or republican, that opinion "is not always right, until it is too late,” since "public inform a-

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Shaping an Informed Citizenry tion cannot keep pace w ith h uts.” M oreover, as eager as Adam s w as for in­ form ation to be "spread . . . even to the lowest dregs o f the people,” even am ong slaves, and to let "every human being,— m an, wom an, and child,— be as well inform ed as possible,” he recognized that dangers w ould persist. T h e essential problem was not the canon o f inform ation or how it was taught, though these matters were im portant. Rather, it was that there was no "good w ithout an evil, in this m ingled w orld,” which m eant that "know l­ edge is applied to bad purposes as well as good ones.”102 In reality, there was “no necessary connection between knowledge and virtue.” O ne had only to “read the history o f all the universities, academies, monasteries o f the world, and see whether learning extinguishes human passions or corrects human vices. You w ill find in them as m any parties and factions, as m uch jealousy and envy, hatred and m alice, revenge and intrigue, as you w ill in any legisla­ tive assem bly or executive council, [or] the m ost ignorant city or village.”103 Hum an beings and human societies, regardless o f form s, displayed certain characteristics that led Adam s and m any others w ho believed in the Am erican republic to be concerned over its future. B y the 1820s, these anxieties were being eclipsed by the optim ism o f the rising generation. Elite Am erican leaders had witnessed several decades of dram atic im provem ents in the dissem ination o f inform ation, wherein pri­ vate, com m ercial, and voluntary efforts were param ount and the state had played only an enabling role. M oreover, in contrast to Adam s and Jefferson’s generation, the leaders o f the 1820s had been touched by romanticism. Although they paid an alm ost obsequious hom age to the Revolutionary War generation, they confidendy extended the ideal o f the inform ed citizen to encompass a com prehensive vision o f knowledge broadly diffused and ever expanding. A m ong aging Federalists and W higs especially, the old worries persisted and acted as a continuing spur to action. But publicly, at least, the glass was decidedly h a lf full, not h a lf empty, and the new generation o f lead­ ers confronted the dire fears o f the Revoludonary W ar leaders optim istically in the celebratory eulogies o f 1825 and 1826. D aniel W ebster’s nationally celebrated speech at Bunker H ill on the fifti­ eth anniversary o f the battle was so w idely reprinted in the next generation that it became, quite literally, a textbook example o f Am erican oratory.104 In it, W ebster sang the praises o f the heroism o f the revoludonary soldiers and the glories o f Am erican liberty. It is significant, therefore, that his patriotic exhortation included a panegyric to the expansion and diffusion o f knowl­ edge that reached toward infinity. W ebster did, o f course, affirm the basic

Shaping an Informed Citizenry political point that wthe popular form o f governm ent is practicable, and that, w ith wisdom and knowledge, men m ay govern themselves.”105 But he elabo­ rated it on a truly transcendental scale w ith the declaration that “ knowledge, in truth, is the great sun in the firm am ent,” giving life and power to m en.106 A s a dem onstration o f this assertion, W ebster proclaim ed that “ knowledge has, in our tim e, trium phed, and is trium phing, over distance, over differ­ ences o f languages, over diversity o f habits, over prejudice, and over bigotry.” W hat was em erging around the globe was a “vast commerce o f ideas” that m ade “ innum erable m inds, variously gifted by nature, com petent to be com petitors, or fellow-workers, on the theatre o f intellectual operation.”107 From this historic developm ent, he was sure, political and m aterial progress w ould flow, giving to m ankind a genuine hope o f peace and prosperity. T h e concern for the purity o f public opinion that had anim ated W ebster’s Federalist forebears was supplanted by confidence in commerce and the com petition o f a free marketplace o f ideas. A s W ebster painted the scene, ig­ norance, not purity, was the issue. To rem ain ignorant deliberately in such an era was worse than unpatriotic, it was atavistic. To be inform ed, he im plied, was not just a duty o f citizens, it was the duty o f everyone who was not forcibly restrained by tyranny or bondage. According to U .S. Suprem e C ourt Justice Joseph Story, the foundation fo r such bold declarations lay in the growing realization that, notwithstand­ ing the shortcom ings o f popular politics and the inadequacies o f public edu­ cation policies, the United States was enjoying a “general diffusion o f knowledge” am ong all social classes, including “the peasant and the artisan.” In another classic oration o f the period, Story, the one-tim e Federalist turned republican whom Jefferson had appointed to the high court, under­ lined W ebster’s argum ents and elaborated on them. O w ing to the freedom o f the press and its “cheapness,” the “universal love and power o f reading” had com e to fruition in the present era, which Story called “the age o f read­ in g.” A s Story viewed it, the republic was secure because “wherever knowl­ edge circulates unrestrained, it is no longer safe to oppress; wherever public opinion is enlightened, it nourishes an independent, m asculine and health­ fu l spirit.” 108 Story’s confident tone, like W ebster’s, was new. T h e connections between ignorance and dependence, knowledge and independence, were embedded in the revolutionary tradition. Usually, however, these ideas had been ex­ pressed as warnings, adm onitions against a chronic peril. “ Ignorance and slavery, knowledge and freedom are inseparably connected,” a clergym an had proclaim ed at the Massachusetts ratifying convention nearly forty years

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Shapingan Informed Citizenry before W ebster’s and Storys orations, and twenty years earlier, a Verm ont Jeffersonian had tersely explained that “ knowledge is the standing arm y o f Republics.”109 But now the tone was celebratory. A literate public w ith ac­ cess to a free m arket o f ideas and inform ation was secure; the public good w ould be realized through the private pursuit o f individual aspirations in a free, com petitive society. Clearly, the ideal o f an inform ed citizenry had at­ tained fulfillm ent. T h e richness and scope o f this fulfillm ent were m uch broader and more com prehensive than leaders o f the revolutionary generation had anticipated. T h eir own ideas had been drawn from secular British and Enlightenm ent traditions that linked free speech and a vigilant, politically inform ed citi­ zenry w ith free scientific inquiry and the conquest o f tyranny and supersti­ tion. Now, however, Jefferson’s form er protégé, Story, in the same speech in w hich he extolled knowledge as the bulwark o f liberty, went on to declare that it was “the peculiar pride o f our age, [that] the Bible m ay now circulate its consolations and instructions am ong the poor and forlorn o f every land in their native dialect.” 110 Although this Christian universalism overlooked Am erican slavery, it gave the idea o f an inform ed citizenry an alm ost unlim ­ ited appeal. T h e Am erican Philosophical Society and the Am erican Bible Society, like political, religious, and reform movements o f all stripes, were invited to take shelter under the capacious tent o f the inform ed citizenry. T h e trium phant spirit o f orators in the 1820s and later was based largely on their perceptions o f actual im provem ent. Statistics on the spread o f post offices, newspapers, books, schools, lyceum s, and the like revealed that pub­ lic inform ation, once scarce, was now circulating extensively and that insti­ tutions to prom ote learning in all o f its branches were m ore and m ore part o f the cultural landscape. Orators’ own experience and their hopeful intuition encouraged the b elief that w ith the demise o f practical im pedim ents to the circulation o f inform ation, in tim e enlightened knowledge w ould vanquish superstition. Paradoxically, Am ericans had adopted a policy that relied pri­ m arily on private, voluntary means to achieve the public goal o f creating an inform ed citizenry. O w ing to their diversity and their widespread resistance to tax-supported public institutions, Am ericans embraced a system that was driven by com ­ peting, voluntary efforts to inform the public. W hat was overlooked, how­ ever, was the sheer m ultiplicity o f popular concerns and interests, am ong which civic consciousness was not necessarily a high priority. Every w hite man m ight be a citizen, but partly because that status no longer conferred prestigp, citizenship did not determ ine the prim ary conscious identity o f

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Shapingan Informed Citizenry m any men. Identifying themselves in terms o f fam ily, occupation, s e a , and com m unity, they often displayed only haphazard or superficial interest in ac­ quiring inform ation connected to citizenship. It was im portant, o f course, that public inform ation be available, but being inform ed required tim e, en­ ergy, and, m ost im portant, m otivation. D uring the Jacksonian era, recogni­ tion o f the im portance o f m otivation w ould drive politics. D uring that time, a principal o b jeaive o f everyone concerned w ith prom oting an informed citizenry became persuading men that attending partisan rallies and parades was not enough; they should take the tim e and trouble to be correctly in­ form ed.

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C h a p ter 5 v Th e Idea o f an Informed Citizenry and the Mobilization o f Institutions, 18 20 -18 50 T h e celebrations that marked the fiftieth anniversary o f Am erican indepen­ dence represented a zenith for the nation’s canonical ideal o f an inform ed cit­ izenry. As expressed by political and cultural leaders like D aniel W ebster and Joseph Story, the republican standard o f a politically inform ed electorate w ithin a generally educated, m oral citizenry had become a national mandate. A ll that rem ained, it seemed, was to im plem ent the idea fu lly through the mechanisms o f printing and public speech, newspapers and periodicals, the book trade, libraries, lyceum s, and above all, schools, especially public com ­ m on schools and Sunday schools. Although, as W ebster and Story pro­ claim ed, much had already been achieved, the tasks that lay ahead in a dram atically expanding, changing United States were form idable. Rhetori­ cally, the opposition to the doctrine o f an inform ed citizenry was puny; in­ deed, alternative viewpoints seldom found their w ay into print or onto the platform s o f public discussion. But as a m atter o f practical politics, the idea faced m ajor, persistent, and com plex im pedim ents. O ld ways o f thinking and acting and entrenched inertia com bined w ith tax resistance and dem ocratic individualism — the b elief in personal autonom y and responsi­ bility rather than public or com m unal control— to make actual im plem enta­ tion o f the lofty vision o f an inform ed citizenry a difficult challenge. These kinds o f practical and theoretical obstacles were com pounded by the fact that alm ost from the m om ent the republican ideal o f an inform ed citizenry achieved hegem ony in public discourse, it was subject to revision and outright criticism . Ironically, the success o f the idea o f an inform ed citi­ zenry was so com plete and overwhelm ing that virtually all groups claim ed it as their own, investing the concept w ith meanings that suited their own ob­ jectives and values but were not always m utually consistent. Like representa­ tive governm ent itself, the idea o f an inform ed citizenry enjoyed nearly universal support, but various constituencies understood the idea differently.

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The Idea o fan Informed Citizenry For exam ple, the purpose o f being inform ed m ight be public and politi­ cal— the original revolutionary form ulation— or it could be Christian and evangelical. Increasingly, being inform ed was said to be desirable in order to achieve personal fulfillm ent, to rise econom ically and socially, or to enhance the productivity, m orality, and good order o f society. A t the sam e tim e, the substantive m eaning o f being inform ed varied just as w idely and m ight in­ clude knowledge o f the English language, arithm etic, history, and geogra­ phy— the com m on school curriculum — or an array o f other subjects, em bracing such topics as practical science, the Bible, and Am erican laws and constitutions. Lacking any official agency authorized to prescribe the ortho­ dox subject m atter o f a properly inform ed citizenry, Am ericans engaged in a cultural free-for-all. M ost controversial o f all was the m eaning o f citizenship. Individual states set their own standards o f inclusion, and U .S. citizenship was som ething en­ tirely different. W hether nonproperaed, fem ale, and im m igrant whites or blacks, m ulattoes, N ative Am ericans, and Asians could be citizens varied at different times and in different jurisdictions. N or was there any consensus re­ garding the rights and privileges inherent in citizenship status. Citizenship m ight include public rights, such as the right to petition and to vote as well as to serve on juries and to hold public office. Citizenship m ight also convey private rights regarding property holding and equal treatment before the law. In addition to racial and ethnic considerations, questions o f gender, wealth, and age all figured prom inendy in these considerations. Although it may have been easy to talk and w rite about the Am erican citizenry in the decades after 1820, defining that citizenry w ith precision was another matter.1 A s a result, the trium ph o f the idea o f an inform ed citizenry, which orators such as D aniel Webster, Joseph Story, and Edward Everett proclaim ed in the 1820s, did not mean that the m eaning o f citizenship became fixed, but it did place the creation o f an inform ed citizenry at the head o f the nation’s cultural agenda. For decades, even generations, this idea w ould serve as the focus for debates that reflected contests over the definition o f Am erican identity— whether Am erica was essentially a white or a m ultiracial society and whether it was patriarchal or egalitarian regarding wom en and men. T h e shape o f these debates and their direction reached far beyond the initial visions that Thom as Jefferson, Jam es M adison, or even John Adam s had propounded. T h is chap­ ter w ill explore the efforts o f officeholders and public figures to m obilize in­ stitutions in order to develop a politically inform ed electorate w ithin a society o f educated, m oral citizens. T h e next chapter w ill take up the challenges pre­ sented by various "outsiders”— workingm en, A frican Am ericans, Native

The Idea o fan Informed Citizenry Am ericans, and wom en— w ho were officially excluded from the electoral arena by the old republican understanding o f the boundaries o f citizenship, the political com m unity, and the m eaning o f being inform ed. D uring the first h a lf o f the nineteenth century, the m ovement to educate and elevate com m on people, especially com m on m en, embraced not only republican Am erica but also the British and C ontinental m onarchies. Because their cultural and religious connections to the United Kingdom were reinforced by trade, investm ent, and im m igration, Am ericans were es­ p ecia lly conscious o f British approaches to the subject. W hen, for exam ple, N ew England Evangelicals created the Am erican Tract Society in 1814, they follow ed English tract society models, distributing m illions o f copies o f short, accessible essays that taught lessons o f piety and m orality to com m on people scattered across Am ericas urban and agricultural landscape.2 T he characteristically Am erican movement to found lyceums was also connected originally to earlier English mechanics' institutes.3 Sim ilarly, when a nonpar­ tisan assortm ent o f prom inent national leaders drawn from twenty-six states and territories joined together in 1836 to form the Am erican Society for the D iffusion o f Useful Knowledge, they were follow ing the lead o f a sim ilarly styled 1827 British society. T h e British organization sought “to im part useful inform ation to all classes o f the com m unity, particularly to such as were unable to avail themselves o f experienced teachers, or w ho m ight prefer learning by them selves."4 T h e Am erican society took a passage from W ashington’s Farewell Address as its m otto, declaring that it w ould “pro­ m ote, as objects o f prim ary im portance, institutions for the general diffusion o f KNOWLEDGE.”5

W hen these Am erican leaders form ed the society in 1836, they were actu­ ally trailing behind public dem and. Already a num ber o f books first spon­ sored by the British society, as w ell as other sim ilar works, had been published com m ercially in the United States. In Boston and twenty-one other cities from Pordand, M aine, to M obile, Alabam a, a little book called The Pursuit o f Knowledge U nder D ifficulties; Illustrated by Anecdotes had ap­ peared in 1831 as the eighth volum e in the Library o f Entertaining Knowledge— a series launched by the British society.6 T h is collection o f bi­ ographies sifted from European and classical history told inspiring stories o f both noble and poor men w ho, like the inventor Richard Arkw right, were placed in difficult personal and financial situations but achieved knowledge chiefly through their own efforts. Teaching by exam ple, such a w ork encour­ aged aspirations to upward social and cultural m obility through self-help.

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The Idea ofan Informed Citizenry In N ew York, Philadelphia, and Springfield, M assachusetts, a Scotsm an, Thom as D ick, brought out a popular w ork two years later that carried a ratio­ nal and utilitarian message, On the Im provem ent o f Society by the D iffusion o f Knowledge: . . . The advantages w hich w ould resultfrom a moregeneraldifu sión o f rational an d scientific inform ation among a ll ranks.7 D ick aim ed to use “ Knowledge in D issipating Superstitious N otions and Vain Fears” as well as to demonstrate the “Absurdity o f astrology.” He went on to offer practical ar­ guments for “the U tility o f Knowledge in Preventing Diseases and Fatal Accidents” as well as the advantages o f knowledge for the progress o f science and general com fort. D ick also advocated rational Christianity, asserting that ignorance sustained “grovelling conceptions o f the D eity both in heathen and Christian countries.” In contrast, he pointed to the “ Beneficial Effects o f Knowledge on M oral Principle and C onduct” and its “ U tility . . . in Relation to a Future W orld” and “the Study o f D ivine Revelation.” To summarize what he called the “ Ignorance o f the dark ages,” D ick pointed to “the scarcity and high price o f books” in that era, a circum stance very different from his own enlightened age. In part, D icks message was a thinly veiled attack on the British establishm ent, whose “ bigotry” he contrasted w ith the “ Liberality o f Religious Sectaries in Am erica.”8 M ore broadly, it was an argum ent for im proving society by inform ing and elevating the people. Since literacy was widespread and printing was cheap, there should be no im pedim ents to real­ izing this goal. In these British-influenced publications, the m otives that sustained the idea o f an inform ed population had little to do w ith republican ideology T h e linking o f the terms “useful” and “entertaining,” which w ent back at least as far as 17 11 in the Spectator essays o f Joseph Addison, did not point to the defense o f liberty.9 The subjects these works presented— natural science, mechanics, poetry, and belles lettres— included political content only indi­ rectly through articles on ancient and modern history and biographies o f such fam ous Am ericans as Benjam in Franklin and George W ashington. The m otto o f the pocket-sized M onthly Repository an d Library o f Entertaining Knowledge, “ Knowledge is power— is wealth— is honor,” spoke less to read­ ers’ political empowerm ent than to their ability to advance upward in society by accum ulating property and social respect. T h e republican standard o f public virtue, in which an alert citizenry was ever watchful against abuses o f power, was being overshadowed by attention to private virtue and personal advancement. Just as liberal political economy was founded on the idea that collective prosperity derived from the individual pursuit o f wealth, so the advocates o f popular inform ation— who dwelled in

The Idea ofan Informed Citizenry an environm ent where m any o f the assum ptions o f evangelical C hristianity prevailed— declared that the m orality o f society was the sum o f individuals’ m orality. Consequendy, instead o f prom oting public consciousness, these w ritings explained that the acquisition o f knowledge fostered virtuous per­ sonal conduct. Adm ittedly, one m ight find scholars who were “bad men” on occasion, but in general the “ intellectual enjoym ents” and “the habit o f assid­ uous study” o f the devotee o f learning were inconsistent w ith “a life o f vicious pleasure.”10 A s a M oral Reform Society speaker in Philadelphia explained: “A m an having within him self an opulent fund o f intellectual enjoym ent, w ill not be so much inclined as others to seek happiness in the gratification o f his appetites and passions. T h e attractions o f the gam bling table and the ale house are not, in his view, to be com pared w ith those found in his own dom i­ cilie]— in the rich volum es o f a well selected lib rary.. . . Instead o f this seek­ ing happiness in the lowest depths o f ignom iny and disgrace, you w ill find him in the hall o f science, the m oral lyceum , or in some useful institution . . . increasing his own intellectual enjoym ents.”11 Being inform ed, it was said, brought m oral “ happiness, as well as power and virtue.”12 M ost im portant o f all, acquiring knowledge was “the cheapest o f all amusements, and consequendy the m ost universally accessible,” available to “all, in all circum stances,” male and fem ale, young and old, in city or in country, and it could be pursued during short snatches o f tim e or extended periods o f solitude.13 In contrast to form er ages, when access to knowledge w as a privilege denied to the poor, now it could be said that “a book is em­ phatically the poor man’s luxury; for it is o f all luxuries that which can be ob­ tained at the least cost,” whether by purchase or through cheap rental libraries. Through reading, “alm ost every individual” could obtain “an inex­ haustible store o f intellectual amusement and instruction.” U ntil recendy, it was true, “these advantages have been chiefly in the possession o f the m iddle classes, to which they have been a source . . . o f enjoym ent. . . o f intelli­ gence and influence.” 14 But now in both Britain and the United States, ordi­ nary people o f sm all means were said to enjoy sim ilar opportunities. Advocates o f popular education based their appeals to com m on people on the grounds o f personal enjoym ent, fulfillm ent, and individual advance­ m ent— a package o f enlightened self-interest. To judge from the rising com ­ m ercial popularity o f publications reflecting these values, they struck a responsive chord. A t the same tim e, however, the Am ericans who form ed the organizations prom oting an inform ed citizenry and w ho articulated its goals— for the sake o f both individual advancement and a republican de­ fense o f liberty— had other social and political agendas, am ong which social

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The Idea ofan Informed Citizenry control and the form ation o f an orderly, progressive, m orally respectable republic were prom inent. A m ong Am erican Calvinists, the necessity for social control w as seen as a fact o f life. A s Frederick A . Packard, the secretary o f the Philadelphia-based Am erican Sunday School Union, put it in 1836, "Ever since the w orld began, the depraved passions o f men have required some kind o f restraint.’* In a free republic, “ if education and religion do not provide [such restraint],” then the violent coercion o f “bayonets and halters must take their place.” M aking his argum ent by means o f a qualified M iltonic statement concerning fice speech, Packard asserted that if “error m ay be safely tolerated where reason is left free to com bat it,” then that reason “must be enlightened and sanctified reason,” not the reason o f slavish or heathen peoples. Sounding a them e that echoed seventeenth-century Puritan thought, the Am erican Sunday School U nion leader expressed concern that “our liberty [could be] used as a cloak for licentiousness.” 15 T h is anxiety, though articulated in its m ost stark, ex­ plicit terms by C alvinist clergym en like Packard, was actually widespread am ong leaders o f various orientations, both secular and religious; it also found a political hom e in the national W hig Party.16 In a nation where social tensions were fueled by internal m igration, the growth o f cities and factories, the arrival o f im m igrants, and fluctuations in the business cycle— in addi­ tion to such explosive public issues as the abolition o f slavery— the opti­ m istic self-assurance o f previous decades seemed naive. T h e social analysis presented by the Am erican Society for the D iffusion o f Useful Knowledge, though not quite hysterical, was anything but com pla­ cent. A t the society’s founding m eeting, held in August 1836 in the resort town o f Saratoga Springs, N ew York, Professor Joh n Proudfit o f N ew York U niversity pointed to “the m oving, heaving surface o f our Am erican popula­ tion.” H e portrayed “the elements o f Society” in the United States as being “ in a state o f perpetual excitement. T h ey need,” he said, “ but a touch to kin­ dle them into a flam e.” As a result, the duty o f the society was “to control and direct into right channels, the mighty, irrepressible, ungovernable activ­ ity o f such a mass o f m ind.”17 By using the printing press to distribute useful, inform ative, m oral reading matter, the society could reach people o f all de­ nom inations and viewpoints. Ultim ately, o f course, it was im perative to reach “the rising generation.” A s a M oral Reform Society orator explained, the education o f youth was critical for a com prehensive array o f cultural reasons. “G ood education” w ould fill the nation w ith “useful citizens and enlightened Christians” whose refinem ent w ould spread “happiness” throughout society. T h is w ould “ban-

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10. L it e r a t u r e and E ducation . Comprising a collection of standard works, in English Classics, with which every family should be acquainted. Works on education, giving its history, its progress and prospects, the philosophy of its principles, in a way calculated to extend and deepen the interest in universal education. It will be the object of the Society to embrace in the range of the pub­ lications all subjects of general interest and utility, and their greatest care that the whole be pervaded and characterized by such a spirit of Christian morality as shall fit it to refine and elevate the moral character of our nation. * The volumes are designed to be of about 250 pp. 12mo. ; to be bound in a uniform and very thorough manner, and boxed in sets, so as to be bought, sold and transported with the convenience and safety of bales of merchandise ; and the box to be so constructed as to answer the purposes o f a case, when it reaches its final resting place in the school room.

It is, as will be perceived, a flat box, two feet long, one foot wide, and six inches deep, divided by partitions which become shelves when the box is placed upright, into four compartments. The cover is to be attached by hinges so as to become a door when the box is opened.

This illustration was published by the American Society for the Diffusion o f Usefol Knowledge o fNew York City in its 1837 Prospectus for the American Library to help market its American Library ” to families and schools. Shipped in wooden crates that could later serve as bookcases, this set o fbooks made knowledge a commodity that could be manufactured efficiently and shipped anywhere. Courtesy American Antiquarian Society.

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The Idea o fan Informed Citizenry ish from their religion that superstition, and (rom their devotional exercises that w ild, ranting fanaticism , which are the legitim ate fruits o f ignorance.” 18 As a result, a moral and respectable order would prevail. T h e idea o f infor­ m ation as a mechanism o f social control was made explicit by the Am erican Society for the D iffusion o f Useful Knowledge when it asserted that “an en­ tertaining book is one o f the strongest keepers a child can have. Its chain is invisible, and it neither chafes nor annoys the wearer. But it is m ore effectual than alm ost any other restraint.” Reading could end idleness, dissipation, brawls, and “wicked conversation.”19 Although the objectives o f this view­ point were benevolent since books w ould restrain vice and liberate virtue, the idea that books could actually operate as invisible chains represented a departure from the revolutionary republican notion that books and the knowledge they supplied broke the chains o f ignorance. But even as early as 1820, D aniel Webster, speaking in the Massachusetts constitutional conven­ tion, had lauded popular education as a “wise and liberal system o f police.”20 Even w ithin the republican tradition, tension between restraint and libera­ tion recalled the C alvinist distinction between liberty and license. O ne o f the m ost com m on ways o f addressing this concern was to advocate the dissem ination o f “useful knowledge,” which by definition could not be frivolous and, unlike “entertaining knowledge,” never encouraged misbehav­ ior. Noah Webster, whose spellers, readers, and dictionaries were w idely used, had brought out a m ultivolum e textbook series between 1806 and 1812 called Elem ents o f Useful Knowledge, in which he prom ised to com bine “the attrac­ tions o f delight, w ith the labor o f study, to allure the minds o f youth along the difficult road to Know ledge.”21 T h e book’s contents, political and natural his­ tory and geography, were more useful than entertaining. W ebster’s competi­ tion, works such as W illiam M avor’s Catechism o f U niversal H istory and Catechism o f G eneral Knowledge, were also intended for fam ily use as well as for schools and shared his emphasis on usefulness rather than amusement.22 Since the question o f whether inform ation was useful or entertaining was often subjective— and it could certainly be both— the w ay inform ation was presented reflected the values approved by the intended audience or market. M useum s, which gained widespread popularity as educational and commer­ cial ventures during the first h a lf o f the century, stood precisely at the inter­ section o f the useful and the entertaining. Initially, under the guidance o f such gendem en as Charles W ilson Peale, the museum was a collection o f natural history objects that provided scientific instruction through direct observation and lectures. W hen Peale sought a subsidy from the city o f Philadelphia in 1816, he called his museum “a school o f useful knowledge”

The Idea o fan Informed Citizenry that w ould “amuse and in the same m om ent instruct the adult, as well as the youth ,” o f both sexes in addition to reinforcing the deferential social order b y leading “all classes o f so ciety. . . [to] feel the charms o f gratitude to their pastors, to their parents, to their com patriots.” Peale even went so far as to appeal to the city’s com m ercial interests, asserting that his em porium o f knowledge w ould boost the city’s retail businesses since his visitors “m ust spend m oney at places o f entertainm ent” and “could scarcely pass our shops and stores w ithout stopping to purchase som ething.” 2* In this context, the usefulness o f knowledge extended from the improvem ent o f the individual and society to the enrichm ent o f local businessmen. O ver tim e, the museum balance shifted away from useful and im prov­ ing knowledge to entertainm ent. Starting in 1828, a C incinnati prom oter opened a museum that invited the public to visit H ell, made lifelike w ith transparencies, sound effects, and autom ated wax figures. A t this tim e, all o f the N ew York C ity museums com peted for the public’s attention by featur­ ing musical bands, dog acts, ventriloquists, and freaks o f nature. B y 1843, when P. T. Barnum purchased Peales once-scientific museum, the manage­ m ent had already turned to sideshow spectacles to bring in custom ers.24 Useful knowledge, though it offered “the attractions o f delight” as N oah W ebster had put it, could not com pete com m ercially in the m arketplace as popular entertainm ent. To succeed financially, the movement for the diffusion o f knowledge needed to be connected to the popular am bition for self-im provem ent, and even then it w ould generally require subsidies from private and public sources. A s a result, Am erica’s learned elite began to create a new kind o f scientific collection aim ed— like Philadelphia’s Academ y o f N atural Sciences— pri­ m arily at the increase and advancement o f knowledge rather than its diffusion am ong the masses. Even so, however, starting in the 1840s, the nonprofit Philadelphia academ y invited the public to view its collections gratis twice a week. And when Congress acted in 1846 to fulfill the bequest o f Jam es Sm ithson, the Englishm an who in 1829 had w illed his fortune to the U nited States for “the increase and diffusion o f knowledge am ong m en,” the legislation emphasized the diffusion o f existing knowledge more than its in­ crease and called for a museum, a library, an art gallery, and a lecture room— all open to the public.2* B y this tim e, the lyceum and public lecture movements were flourishing all across the N orth and West and in a num ber o f southern cities. These com ­ m unal instructional events made the diffusion o f inform ation from the speaker’s platform a kind o f perform ance art.26 In the am ateur-operated

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The Idea ofan Informed Citizenry lyccum s, debating and library societies, and mechanics’ institutes o f the 1830s and 1840s, self-education flourished as members delivered lectures to each other on subjects they had studied in books. In addition, they used the debate form at to discuss controversial issues o f the day as well as to im prove participants’ skills in reasoning, argum ent, and social self-assurance. T his kind o f active self-developm ent, which was especially com m on am ong the arm ies o f young men who were pursuing nonfàrm occupations as clerks and apprentices in law, com m erce, m edicine, and the manual trades, em bodied a fulfillm ent o f the idea o f the inform ed citizen. T h e fact that w om en, too, par­ ticipated in this movement, sometimes in separate societies, som etim es with men, illustrates how pervasive— and ultim ately inclusive— the idea could be. T h e public lecture m ovement, which built on the interests and audiences that the am ateur associations cultivated, was even more inclusive. Relying on fam ous speakers like Ralph W aldo Em erson, Louis Agassiz, and Wendell Phillips, who were known for their oratorical skills and their publications and who attracted large paying audiences, these lectures encouraged people o f different ages, sexes, occupations, and religions to share a com m on culture by becom ing inform ed together on the same subjects. G eneral cultural knowledge— philosophy, science, history— was presented, never the divisive or partisan sectarian and public issues that m ight endanger the broad-based patronage such a lecture series required.27 For controversial subjects, Am ericans went to hear touring reformers and evangelists or attended the political rallies o f electoral candidates. B y participating in this w ide range of inform ative activities, Am ericans displayed their com m itm ent to their ideas o f an inform ed, knowledgeable citizenry. Indeed, so often repeated were the appeals for an inform ed citizenry and so pervasive was the movement for the diffusion o f useful knowledge, that there was a discernible public reaction against it. T h e secretary o f the Massachusetts state board o f education, Horace M ann, com m ented in 1848 that "the necessity o f general intelligence under a republican form o f govern­ ment . . . is so trite . . . as to have lost much o f its force by its fam iliarity.”18 Ten years earlier in M assachusetts, an anonym ous satire was printed pur­ porting to present the annual proceedings at the “Asineum ” o f the "Society for the D iffusion o f Useless Knowledge and the General Confusion o f the Hum an Understanding.” Filled w ith pretentious, m ultisyllabic pronounce­ ments and beginning w ith an "introductory discourse on the usefulness o f useless knowledge,” the satire concluded that "useless knowledge was never more highly prized.”29 In the minds o f some, at least, the earnest labors o f inform ation promoters needed to be deflated.

The Idea o fan Informed Citizenry Several years later, a hum orous critique o f "Popular Lectures” called atten­ tion to their changing character. Although originally "considered the luxu­ ries, they are now the necessaries o f life” ; they had become the cultural and in­ tellectual counterparts o f factory-m ade consum er goods.30 Indeed, lectures w ere described as "a perfect system o f patent instruction for adults, on every subject.” A t first, the lecture system had been seen as a secular counterpan to churchgoing in which adults and children could be instructed sim ultane­ ously on topics that were "scientific” and "useful.” A s w ith church atten­ dance, wom en were said to have been especially supportive, and in addition, "fathers o f fam ilies deemed it incum bent on them to lay in tick ets. . . for general and constant use.”31 T h e style o f lectures, too, had follow ed the traditional m ethod o f the or­ thodox pulpit. First, the "fam ous man” placed "his m anuscript before him ,” and then, in a "voice as thin as sm all beer,” he proceeded to explain his sub­ ject— typically, to "strew the path which leads to com parative anatomy, w ith m ore flowers than bones.” Earnest, at least, i f not especially intellectual, the lecturer emphasized inform ation and instruction; he neither pretended to be extem poraneous in his delivery nor em bellished it w ith “fanciful gestures.” T h e lecturer did not electrify his crowd anym ore than did the com m on parish parson. But for an entire week follow ing a lecture, it was said that "nothing is heard of, but ‘m ental power;’ ‘dignity o f m an;’ ‘cultivation o f the m ind,’” and other themes from the lecture.32 A s ridiculous as it seemed to the hum orist who made these observations, the process he described repre­ sented one o f the ways that a "culturally inform ed” citizenry, such as it was, developed. In the 1840s, the critic noted, the lecture system was changing so as to em­ phasize "fashionable” perform ance. N ow the lecturer presented a memorized text and roam ed the platform w ith a display o f "posturing” and “gym nastics” before an audience that was less likely to include fam ilies than it was to in­ clude unattached young people o f both sexes, courting couples, and m iddleaged and elderly men and wom en. Lectures had become a respectable form o f educational theater, in which certain clichés functioned as predictable ap­ plause lines, such as "extension o f com m erce,” "convenience o f rail-roads,” and the “utility o f steamships” ; “the fine arts,” “the worth o f w om an,” and "the m agnificence o f the firm am ent” ; "the power o f the press,” "the intelli­ gence o f the people,” and "dem ocracy.”33 W hen audiences departed the lec­ ture hall, they were said to be slightly m ore knowledgeable than when they entered. M ore im portant, however, as w ith museums a few years earlier, the m ixture o f "useful and entertaining knowledge” enabled audiences to feel as-

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This 1844 image o f a lecture shows a well-dressed audience o f respectable men and women attracted to such improving entertainment. The speaker’s dramatic gestures and extemporaneous delivery set him offfrom ordinary clergymen. The organ visible in the background suggests that the auditorium is a church. From Pills for the People (Boston, 1844). Courtesy American Antiquarian Society.

The Idea ofan Informed Citizenry sured o f their own inclusion in the society o f the inform ed. T h e original idea o f the politically inform ed citizen who jealously defended his rights and public liberty had not been lost, but it had been overlaid by the im m ediate, personal desire to achieve and m aintain social standing in a land where rank was often said to depend on personal qualities m ore than accidents o f birth and wealth.34 T h is com bination o f im pulses was evident in the history o f libraries. W hereas before the Revolution m ost substantial libraries had been the per­ sonal possessions o f learned gendem en and professionals, now the emphasis had turned to collective libraries o f m any kinds, catering to particular, selfdefined com m unities o f men and wom en. T h e library, by prom oting effi­ cient, inexpensive access to a m ultitude o f publications, gave participants the heady feeling that they not only com m anded a w ide array o f choices but also possessed a measure o f control in a publishing m arketplace o f books, period­ icals, and newspapers that was growing exponentially. Because m any li­ braries were originally voluntary associations form ed by like-m inded people, they also fostered the sense o f inclusion characteristic o f membership orga­ nizations. Significandy, the public library m ovem ent that emerged in the 1840s and 1850s grew upon a base o f local and private social libraries that, w ith antecedents stretching back to the 1730s, had been form ed m osdy in the decades after 179 0.35 These social libraries, which in northern and especially N ew England vil­ lages and towns drew together the m ost prosperous farm ers w ith m erchants, lawyers, doctors, and clergym en, were com plem ented by the libraries, usu­ ally linked to a church, that their wives and daughters form ed in order to share books and periodicals, which they purchased w ith their membership fees. B y the 1820s and 1830s, such libraries often held debate and discussion activities attended by both sexes. In addition, local lyceum s, which in the 1830s and 1840s also included men, wom en, and youths, form ed libraries. B y this tim e, privately financed libraries for merchants, mechanics and appren­ tices, and clerks and workingm en generally were operating in cities, some­ tim es as quasipublic institutions.36 A ll o f these libraries emphasized m orally correct, im proving and useful knowledge, not entertainm ent. H orace M ann, who once said, “ H ad I the power, I w ould scatter libraries over the whole land, as the sower sows his w heat-field,” was adamant on this point.37 It m ight be appropriate to m ix some am usement w ith instruction, he believed, but fictional romances sup­ plied m iseducation. In M anns 1839 report to the Massachusetts legislature, he called attention to the fact that the “ ignom inious life” o f the confidence

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The Idea o fan Informal Citizenry m an, “the notorious Stephen B urroughs. . . com m enced when he was read­ ing a pernicious book.” Burroughs him self had reported this “fact” deliber­ ately in order to elicit just such a response from authorities like M ann, who railed against “that contam inating and pestilential class o f w orks which is now hawked around the country, creating m oral diseases.”38 Clergym en, m any o f whom headed academies and colleges, were especially outspoken in denouncing the rise “o f fiction and other light and ephemeral trash” that is­ sued from a “ licentious press.”39 W hereas good books could help to mold a virtuous, inform ed public, bad books contributed to the creation o f a vi­ cious, m isinform ed citizenry. I f all libraries had been controlled by “responsible” com m unity leaders who were concerned, like M ann, w ith m orality, M ann w ould have been more hopeful. But ever since Am erican independence, circulating libraries, from which borrowers could rent reading m atter by the day, had been grow­ ing in com m ercial centers. These libraries often included w ell-stocked read­ ing rooms supplied w ith newspapers and magazines and offered a wide range o f titles, but it was the rise in the popularity o f novels that spurred their growth, especially in the decades after 1800. B y the tim e M ann registered his com plaint against the “contam inating and pestilential class o f works” that threatened to supplant “useful knowledge,” circulating libraries were com­ m on in all regions. Run by various types o f people, male and fem ale, and out o f venues ranging from riverboats and taverns to m illiners’ shops, they oper­ ated beyond the reach o f the m onitors o f social control. Ultim ately, however, the influence o f circulating libraries was restricted, both by the emergence o f paperbound books sold so cheaply they were considered disposable and by the com petition o f subsidized libraries— public and sem ipublic and in schools.40 T he recognized stature that the principle o f free access to inform ation had gained is m anifest in an appeal to “the Authors, Editors and Publishers o f the United States” issued in 1850 on behalf o f the fledgling library o f the Utah territory. T h e U .S. Congress had appropriated $5,000 to start the library, and now Utah setders solicited the generosity o f the inform ation industry on the grounds that “a l ib r a r y . . . is vital to our existence.” M ore than just the settlers’ ability to fulfill their duties as republican citizens was at stake. The press was the “ Fountain” o f light in the darkness, for “w ithout it neither the Christian nor the Philosopher could hope to transm it his faith in G o d , or his discoveries in science, or to im prove the condition o f those who are living in the depths o f superstition and bodily degradation.”41 In short, libraries stood between Christian civilization and pagan savagery.

The Idea o fan Informed Citizenry Although libraries cam e to be regarded as essential to the m oral and polit­ ical stam ina o f Am erican society and lyceum s, lectures, and museums were considered im portant as w ell, nearly everyone agreed that, apart from churches, the single m ost influential agency for developing a virtuous and in­ form ed citizenry was the school. T h e Revolution had elevated schools to a priority status that was expressly articulated in the constitutions o f m any states and in a host o f statutes. Yet in the early decades o f the nineteenth cen­ tury, after the republican ardor o f newly won independence faded, actual com m itm ents to education were fitful and sufficient to realize only a fraction o f states* constitutional and statutory objectives. Even in V irginia and M assachusetts, where Thom as Jefferson and Joh n Adam s had taken the lead, established custom s and tax resistance com bined w ith new appeals to dem ocratic individualism to obstruct the expansion o f schooling. Parents, opponents o f public education often claim ed, not the state, bore responsibil­ ity for their childrens training. O r if the public did have an obligation to ed­ ucate children, then local autonom y in the actual control and direction o f schools should be preserved. A s a result, even in Connecticut and M assachusetts, which were often held up as models for the nation, the oper­ ation o f publicly financed schools required incessant justification. O ver the years, these justifications changed, and w ith them , the idea o f an inform ed citizenry changed as well. B y 1847, a decade after Horace M ann had begun his crusade to elevate the schools o f Massachusetts to a uniform ly respectable standard, he was m erging narrow appeals to self-interest w ith the lo fty though fam iliar republican and Christian arguments for an inform ed citizenry. I f M assachusetts w ould only adopt his school reform proposals, M ann claim ed, “the great body o f vices and crim es which now sadden and torm ent the com m unity m ay be dislodged and driven out.” To taxpaying voters whose tight fists remained clenched in opposition, M ann warned that ttan ignorant people not only is, but m ust be, a poor people.”42 An educated citizenry, M ann seemed to prom ise, w ould be prosperous as w ell as m oral and law-abiding. T h e appearance in the 1840s o f this kind o f practical appeal to voters* im m ediate self-interest resulted from a two-generations-long struggle to achieve a broadly based, inclusive school system that could fulfill at least the m inim um conditions that reformers like Jefferson and Rush had advocated several decades earlier. D uring these years, as Am erican politics evolved in a dem ocratic direction, the early republican concept o f an inform ed citizenry was m odified, often in ways that members o f the federal era ruling elite had feared. In a polity where new state constitutions were being w ritten in every

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The Idea o fan Informed Citizenry decade and reflected changes in politics and the principles that informed them , the idea o f an inform ed citizenry was inherendy unstable. A fter com­ mon people themselves came to use politics and the inform ation market­ place to express their preferences regarding the purposes o f inform ation and education, lofty abstractions about the long-term vitality and virtue o f the republic yielded precedence to “useful knowledge” and low -cost education designed to enhance com m on citizens’ material prosperity and accelerate their own social and political empowerm ent. Exam ining the w ay in which this process unfolded is instructive for understanding the m ultiple meanings that were being assigned to the idea o f an inform ed citizenry as those mean­ ings were shaped in the decades before i860. As had been evident from the tim e o f the Revolution, concern for the cre­ ation o f an inform ed citizenry originated at the top o f society, am ong elite public figures and clergym en who were worried that their revolution, their Christian republic, w ould be underm ined even before it could be securely es­ tablished. Filled w ith a sense o f urgency, they rallied to the proposition that education should be pressed forward and expanded by every available means. In 179 5-9 7, when the Am erican Philosophical Society was running its com­ petition “for the best system o f liberal education and literary instruction, adapted to the genius o f the governm ent o f the United States; comprehending also a plan for instituting and conducting public schools in this country, on principles o f the m ost extensive utility,” its members understood that the pur­ pose o f such a plan would be to serve as a model for reformers to em ploy in ar­ guing the case for education in the several states and perhaps in Congress.43 N o single blueprint would be applicable or acceptable everywhere. T h e priority o f parents’ responsibility to educate their own children was a starting assum ption, but reformers also believed that since the public and its agent, the state, had an interest in form ing good citizens, governm ent, too« had a duty to prom ote education. Parents should, as in the past, pay for their children’s schooling, but governm ent should assist and encourage education by subsidizing the capital and operating expenses o f schools. Few people saw any need for a com prehensive, com pulsory school system or believed one could be sustained. T h e im m ediate advantages connected to this noncoercive, voluntary ap­ proach were substantial. G enerally speaking, existing institutions could be accom m odated. T h e laws were drawn loosely enough to allow for adapta­ tions that suited the wishes o f various com m unities and constituencies. And the approach was easy on taxpayers, whose tolerance for educational reform was always sensitive to taxation. A t the beginning o f the nineteenth century,

The Idea o fan Informed Citizenry there was a general understanding that these m odest constitutional and leg­ islative efforts w ould not yield a fo lly inform ed citizenry, but the expectation o f progressive im provem ent helped to offset fears that Am ericans w ould be­ com e a degenerate citizenry. But in urban areas like N ew York C ity and Philadelphia, the growing num bers o f poor children— native and im m igrant— caused city fathers alarm . Church schools had room for only a few pupils who could not pay tu­ ition ; as a result, some o f the poor were receiving no training at all in letters o r numbers. Traditionally, no public provision was made for the education o f children w ho worked, children from one-parent fam ilies o f laborers or laundresses, or unattached orphans. O ne response, recalling the eighteenthcentury British charity school m ovem ent, was to create new institutions dedicated to serving this population. In 1805, for exam ple, N ew Yorkers form ed a society to operate “a free school for the education o f poor children w ho do not belong to, or are not provided for by any religious society.”44 T h is privately financed school supplied only a basic education, not a cur­ riculum aim ed at inform ed citizenship or upward m obility. It was no wonder, then, that when Joseph Lancaster s London system for cheaply educating massive numbers o f poor children was introduced around 1798, urban elites were interested. Lancasters approach offered the peda­ gogic analogue o f the factory system. In his schools, one adult instructor su­ pervised the teaching o f as m any as 500 children sim ultaneously by means o f a graded system consisting o f sm all groups, each taught by a trained "m oni­ tor.” "Youths o f fourteen or fifteen years o f age,” Lancaster proclaim ed in 18 10 , were "conducting w ith alm ost the regularity o f a m achine, schools con­ taining several hundreds o f children, and im parting to them , w ith unexam­ pled rapidity, the elements o f education.”45 Those elements included reading, w riting, arithm etic, and "habits o f Cleanliness, Subordination, and O rder.” Expressly nondenom inational, the schools offered lim ited religious instruction in "the Ten Com m andm ents and the Lord s P rayer,. . . Lessons selected from the Scriptures, o r . . . the Reading o f the Scriptures them ­ selves.” Parents, Lancaster advised, should bring their children to church on Sundays, and he directed that pupils report the sermon’s text to the school­ m aster on M ondays.4* A lthough parents generally paid the sm all tuition Lancaster charged, the schools’ objectives were far from republican; indeed, their aims were virtu­ ally identical to the Anglican charity schools o f a century earlier. A nd, as w ith the charity schools, when Lancaster addressed British audiences, he offered assurances against M andevillean objections that had revived in the

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4

“ On a miserable bedstead, without any covering but a heap of rags, lay the almost dying parent.” page 21#

“The Tawny Girl,

"the 18 2}true story o f Margaret Russel, the London-born daughter o

West Indian father and an Irish servant mother, appealed to the compassion o f Christians on both sides o f the Atlantic. As a poor, illegitimate mulatto girl, Russel epitomized social degra-

TheId ea o f an Inform ed C itizen ry

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THE TAWNY GIRL ; OB TH E

HISTORY OE

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NEW-YORK : PU BLISH ED BY NO.

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dation, but her innate spirit nurtured by the kindness o f Christians made her an exemplar o f the effects o f benevolence. Arthur Anderson’s woodcut supplied sentimental appealfor the move­ ment to maintainfree schools in port cities. Courtesy American Antiquarian Society,

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“ It is my Wish that every poor CHILD should be taught to read the B IB L E .”

This

318 broadside was used topromote Lancasterian schools in Britain. It expresses the

traditional approach to the education o f the poor dating from the eighteenth-century charity schools onward. King Georges condescension is complemented by the submissive posture o fthe child who receives the royalgift o flearning. Courtesy American Antiquar­ ian Society era o f working-class protest following the French Revolution. "T h e general diffusion o f knowledge will by no means be found unfavorable to industry,” he asserted. Instead, education would “soften and civilize. . . the lower or­ ders o f Society. . . [and] inure them to habits o f subordination and controul.” The record in Scodand, where the “peasantry and other labouring classes” were recognized as the “best informed and the most industrious and sober in Europe,” should convince skeptics that “the diffusion o f knowl­ edge” would not lead common people to shirk labor or to challenge the ex­ isting social order. I f a handful o f poor individuals did climb up a rung or two on the social ladder as a result o f their education, Lancaster, him self the son o f a common redcoat who had fought for the king in the Revolution, saw no reason “w hy [they should] not.”47 Lancaster’s nonrepublican justification for informing common people in­ cluded a blunt appeal to the self-interests o f “the superior and middling classes” in an era when working-class radicalism was beginning to mount po­ litical challenges. Lancaster reminded propertied people that “the poor are our inmates, and our guardians. They surround our tables, they surround

The Idea o fan Informed Citizenry our beds, they inhabit our nurseries. O ur lives, our properties; the m inds, and the health o f our children, a r e . . . dependent upon their good or evil.” Responding direcdy to M andevillean fears o f disorder in a postrevolutionary era, he claim ed that if "our subordinate brethren” were educated, they w ould also be "m ore trust-worthy,” whether "as dom estics, as artisans, as m anufac­ turers, as persons entrusted w i t h . . . our property in a thousand w ays.”48 D eW itt C linton and his N ew York associates m ay not have endorsed pre­ cisely these antirepublican elements in Lancaster’s overall appeal, but they did regard Lancasters pedagogical scheme as heaven-sent. T h e order, the scope, the efficiency o f the Lancasterian school was, in C linton’s eyes, mag­ nificent. Rhapsodically, the future governor and canal builder exclaim ed: "W hen I perceive one great assem bly o f a thousand children, under the eye o f a single teacher, m arch in g,. . . w ith perfect discipline to the goal o f kn ow ledge,. . . I recognize in Lancaster the benefactor o f the human race.” M ore concretely, C linton and the other leaders o f early nineteenth-century education reform in N ew York adm ired the "econom y, facility, and expedi­ tion” o f Lancaster’s m onitorial approach, which provided them w ith noth­ in g less than "a system . . . in education, what the neat finished machines for abridging labor and expense are in the m echanic arts.”49 T h is econom ical m ethod o f mass education for poor children was, for a tim e, a republican panacea for realizing the ideal o f an inform ed citizenry in Baltim ore, Philadelphia, N ew York C ity, and a handful o f other Am erican towns. Although Am erican political leaders liked the emphasis on order and dis­ cipline in Lancasters system, its m ost appealing characteristic was its econ­ om y. M any o f the states, starting w ith Pennsylvania and N orth C arolina in 177 6 , Georgia and Verm ont in 177 7, and Massachusetts in 1780, had made som e broad provision for public education in their constitutions; however, the idea o f general tax support for schools, rather than parent-paid tuition, enjoyed little support anywhere.$° Significantly, the m ost w idely used source o f public funding was not taxation but revenue from the sale o f public lands as in the United States land ordinance o f 1786. Nevertheless, the great advantage o f Lancasterian schools— low cost— was not enough to make them thrive in Am erica much beyond 1820. Although they could teach basic literacy and num eracy to poor children, they were quickly recognized as unsuitable for the education o f republican citizens and poorly adapted to the yeom an farm ing population that was spreading over the Am erican interior. Indiana’s 1816 constitution, for exam­ ple, in provisions later copied by Arkansas, recognized "knowledge and learning generally diffused through a com m unity” as not only "essential to

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Plate 4.

Monitor's Seat and Desk. These illustrations arefrom the Manual o f the Lancasterian System, published in 1820 by the Free School Society ofNew-York. Plate no. 1 shows a classroomfloorplan providingfor 22$ pupils in 8 grades, 25 moni­ tors, 2 assistant teachers, and 1 teacher. The beginning students sit in front, the advanced in the rear. The half-circles at theperimeter designate areas to be used by smallgroups of pupilsfor recitations and arithmetic. The teacher and his assistants are to be seatedon the raisedplatform at thefront o f the room. Plate no. 4 shows a young monitor and his charges, each holding a slate on which letters and numbers w ill be formed. Each classroom was to contain twenty-five such benches. Courtesy American Antiquarian Society.

The Idea ofan Informed Citizenry th e preservation o f a free governm ent” but also vital for "spreading the op­ portunities and advantages o f education.” T h e objective was prim arily indi­ vid u al and social advancem ent, not social control. B y calling for "a general system o f education, ascending in a regular gradation from township schools to a State university, wherein tuition shall be gratis, and equally open to all,” and by including provisions for public libraries in every county, Indiana’s constitution expressed dem ocratic, egalitarian values that were alien to Lancasterianism .51 B y the 1830s, the idea o f a separate and inferior system o f education for the poor and com m on people was entirely outm oded. N or could Lancaster’s schem e for the efficient training o f the poor be rem odeled to suit the tem peram ent o f Am erican society. A s a N ew England critic explained, the Lancaster plan was useful for Britain, perhaps, insofar as some education was better than none, but "to throw our children into a sort o f intellectual hop­ per, where they m ust be ground in a m ill. . . and the whole body taught to m arch on like a platoon o f soldiers, as i f they were moved by one spring and were parts o f a single m achine,” was w holly unsuitable. "F or republicans, for freem en, for self-controlling, and elevated masters o f their own destiny” som ething better was required. Significantly, the elite advocates o f Lancasterian schools like D eW itt C linton never enrolled their own children in those schools, whereas, as an 1837 article in the Common School Advocate o f C incinnati noted, the son o f a sawyer was enrolled in a Boston public school in the same class as the son o f John Q uincy Adam s and outstripped his highborn classmate by w inning a prize. "T h e narrow notion, that there is to be an education for the poor as such” had been played out and repudiated b y 184o.52 In N orth C arolina, the com plex process o f actually establishing com m on schools reveals variations in the ways that the idea o f an inform ed citizenry was articulated and justified in the dynam ic cultural and political environ­ m ent o f the first h a lf o f the nineteenth century. In 1776 , when N orth Carolina’s first constitution was w ritten, enlightened republican ideology had led to the adoption o f article 4 1, which provided "that a school or schools shall be established by the legislature, for the convenient instruction o f youth, w ith such salaries to the masters, paid by the public, as m ay enable them to instruct at low prices; and, all usefull learning shall be duly encour­ aged and prom oted in one or more universities.”53 T h e assum ption, clearly, was that parents and the public shared responsibility for educating children. T h e concern for "usefull” learning at the university level signaled public m is-

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The Idea ofan Informed Citizenry trust o f the w orld o f higher learning, w hich, from the N orth C arolina gen­ try’s view point, m ight be m erely speculative, m etaphysical, ornam ental, and frivolous. Here, m anifest in the constitution itself, were some o f the endur­ ing tensions connected to public policy aim ed at the realization o f an in­ form ed citizenry in a su te where as late as 1831 the lower house voted against the purchase o f a clock, the emblem o f rational tim e management, for the w all o f its cham ber.54 In this one particular, perhaps, N orth C arolina was unusual, but the route it followed toward the creation o f a com m on school system reflected general Am erican patterns, especially in heavily rural sutes. In the revolu­ tionary era, the passionate concern for liberty and the people s ability to de­ fend their rights had led to the constitutional mandate for schools. But a generation or two later, the m ajority o f white citizens no longer view ed the governm ent as a threat to their freedom— after all, they controlled the gov­ ernm ent. Instead, they worried about special privileges for the few and about taxation in general. In this context, advocates for an inform ed citizenry sup­ plem ented the old republican defonse-of-liberty arguments w ith assertions o f econom ic and cultural advantages. Ultim ately, they invoked the central values o f the Second G reat Awakening— m orality and Christianity. D uring the first three decades o f the nineteenth century, elite cosm opoli­ tan leadership, usually represented by the governor, articulated the argu­ ments for an inform ed N orth C arolina citizenry. “W here the people are everything,” G overnor N athaniel Alexander adm onished in 1806, “ it be­ comes infinitely im portant that they be sufficiendy enlightened to realize their interests.” O therwise, Alexander predicted, “their enemies w ill seduce them from the pursuit o f their true interests, or their own prejudices [will] lead them into fo u l dangers.”55 For poor white N orth Carolinians, “a por­ tion o f instruction” was said to be especially im portant to “enable them sat­ isfactorily to discharge the m ost im portant duties o f society.”56 Insofar as the need to be inform ed was concerned, the N orth C arolina elite saw a real dis­ tinction between the prosperous and the poor. “A certain degree o f educa­ tion should be placed w ithin the reach o f every child in the state,” Governor Benjam in Sm ith argued in 18 11. H e was sure it could be done cheaply, so that “the poor o f every neighborhood. . . m ight be brought up in the true prin­ ciples o f the Christian R eligion.” Basic education w ould have the added benefit o f preventing “the m ultiplicity o f crim e.”57 T h e fact that at this time less than h a lf the free men and even fewer free wom en in some North C arolina counties could w rite their names led to a decade-long interest in Lancasterian schools.58 From 1814 to 1823, m onitorial schools were set up in

The Idea ofan Informed Citizenry several counties, but the same dem ocratic objections that closed them else­ where in the United States also doom ed them in N orth Carolina. A n educa­ tional system that operated to solidify privilege and hierarchy held litde appeal, even though it prom oted obedience and m orality at low cost. In contrast, state leaders advocated an inform ed citizenry in order to fos­ ter the upward social and political m obility characteristic o f meritocracy, an im portant elem ent o f Jefferson’s plan for V irginia. In 1817 the state senate Com m ittee on Education, which was headed by Archibald D eBow M urphey, a Presbyterian reform er and 1799 graduate o f the U niversity o f N orth C arolina, issued a report proposing a system atic plan to im plem ent the edu­ cational provisions o f the 1776 constitution. In the report, M urphey’s com ­ m ittee particularly emphasized the view point that bright children o f the poor should be set on the path “to wealth and honors.” Because "Providence has generally bestowed upon [the poor] the blessing o f intelligent children,” the com m ittee declared that the state should act to nurture and harvest this valuable resource. Far from being a handicap, the self-m ade M urphey as­ serted, "poverty is the school o f g en iu s__ in which the active powers o f m an are developed and disciplined.” Turning the M andevillean analysis on its head, the N orth Carolinians declared that poverty was not the nursery o f rude passions and m enial service but a school for "m oral courage.” T h e hum ble dwellings o f the poor, not the m ansions o f the gentry, the report stated, produced "those men who act the principal parts upon the theatre o f life.” C alling upon a classical Rom an m odel just as another Presbyterian, Benjam in Rush, had done a generation earlier, M urphey closed the report w ith the declaration: "Poor children are the peculiar property o f the State, and by proper cultivation they w ill constitute a fund o f intellectual and m oral w orth which w ill gready subserve the public interest.” T h e N orth C arolina Senate Com m ittee on Education com pleted its inversion o f Lancasterian doctrine by asserting that instead o f form ing a class o f good ser­ vants, educating the poor w ould prepare a class o f good rulers. W hen this re­ port was presented by the com m ittee to the lower house, it concurred unanimously.*9 M urphey’s bill proposed an integrated, three-tiered public education sys­ tem m odeled on systems in V irginia and several N ew England states and the French national scheme. It subsidized the education o f tuition-paying stu­ dents as w ell as providing need-based support to those w ho could not afford tuition. Like Jefferson’s B ill for the M ore General D iffusion o f Knowledge, it aim ed to include all free children. In principle, it seems, the legislature ap­ proved o f the plan since the proposal passed both houses on its first reading.

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The Idea ofan Informed Citizenry But thereafter the plan died, never reaching the floor o f either house for the necessary second vote. T h e scheme was too novel in 1817, too expensive— perhaps even too radical— for legislators to go beyond sym bolic approval to actual im plem entation. T h e follow ing year, when Governor Jo h n Branch pressed the legislature to create an education system , im ploring members to fulfill article 41 o f the 1776 constitution, a much more m odest plan was pro­ posed that would have provided flee tuition and textbooks at schools for the poor. Its fate, however, was much the same as M urpheys bill; after passing two readings in the senate and one in the house, it sank into oblivion.*0 Com prehensive schemes for creating an inform ed citizenry were dis­ tinctly associated w ith cosm opolitan culture and concentrations o f poor people; thus, in a state as thoroughly rural as N orth Carolina— no town had as m any as 2,000 white inhabitants in 1820— the tendency toward localism sustained a w holly voluntaristic approach to creating an inform ed citi­ zenry.61 T h e gentry and yeom an farmers founded dozens o f tuition-based schools and academies around the state in the first h a lf o f the nineteenth century— not in every county, to be sure, but in m ost. T h ey even created m ore than two dozen schools for girls from 1800 through the 1830s. T h e ma­ jo r educational ideas, from Lancaster and Johann Pestalozzi to m ilitary acad­ emies and Philipp Fellenberg’s manual labor approach, all found favor am ong some prom inent N orth Carolinians.62 But support for a uniform, tax-supported public system languished. A s one leader noted at the end o f 1817, the spread o f private academies was extinguishing country schools by depleting them o f students whose parents could pay and leaving the rem­ nant, whose parents could not support a teachers salary, on their own. The problem was further com pounded by the chronic shortage o f able teachers.63 W hen the next substantial reform effort was m ounted in the 1820s, sena­ tors acknowledged that “already has the S u te afforded to the affluent and w ealthy the happy opportunity o f educating their sons” at the university. But nothing had been done for poor youths, who were largely “doom ed” to a “wretched su te o f ignorance.” T h e resulting waste o f talent am ong “per­ sons o f low esute and obscure birth” continued to trouble senate leaders.64 But persuading the legislature to lay taxes to pay for the education o f poor children remained an obstacle even when, as G overnor G abriel Holmes pointed out in 1824, the treasury was “ flourishing.” In that year, a bill was offered to create a fund to educate “destitute” children w ith taxes raised from luxuries including billiard u b les, the gates erected at the entrances o f the driveways o f the gentry, and their natural and artificial curiosities as well as duties on peddlers and slave tuders. But even these slight, narrowly based

The Idea ofan Informed Citizenry taxes were deemed onerous when their objective was educating other peo­ p les children. To Governor Holm es’s dismay, the bill failed. T h e cause o f an inform ed citizenry in N orth Carolina, he said, was “alm ost hopeless” when he saw “our sister states boasting o f m illions appropriated” for education, whereas “not one cent” had been approved by his own state legislature.65 T h e repeated defeats that governors and education com m ittees suffered revealed a significant conflict between the state’s m ost elite, cosm opolitan leaders and the m ajority o f rural backbenchers, w ho could not be convinced that the voluntary, localistic arrangements already in place were so inade­ quate that new taxes were justified. M ajorities rejected argum ents support­ in g free elem entary schools that taught reading, w riting, arithm etic, and other useful knowledge based on the N ew England m odel. Assertions that even the wealthy had a real interest in the education o f poor and m iddling farm ers because some o f their own children and grandchildren w ould prob­ ably be am ong them— the same arguments that Jam es M adison was m aking to Kentucky leaders in the 1820s— were brushed aside.66 Finally, in 1826 the N orth C arolina General Assem bly acted to fulfill, at least in part, the fifty-year-old education provision o f its constitution. T h e law enacted that year creating a state “ literary fund” represented a true com ­ prom ise. To satisfy localists as w ell as the advocates o f state support for the creation o f an inform ed citizenry, the state would apportion m oney to coun­ ties according to their white population for the purpose o f subsidizing schools in whatever m anner county leaders saw fit. Resistance to new taxes to finance the state literary fund was addressed by using a statewide lottery instead o f taxation. A s a result, in those counties where voters were w illing to create public schools supported by local taxes and tuitions, the state literary fund w ould help to lighten the burden.67 But in counties where w ealthy planters provided private schooling for their children and the rem aining in­ habitants were so poor and so scattered that local support for education was absent, the state subsidy— which was designed to help those who were help­ ing themselves— w ould change nothing. O ne critic com plained in 1827 that in som e places “the people are left to rust in prim eval ignorance” ; another ar­ gued that N orth Carolina’s weakness in national councils could never be rem edied “until the people are redeemed by education from the state o f ig­ norance to which they have been doom ed by our penny-saving Legis­ lators.” 68 T h e literary fund law was sim ply inadequate to address the fundam ental problem — “w ant o f general knowledge.” Later in 1827, when “penny-saving” legislators tried to abolish the literary fund even before it was fu lly im plem ented, the House Com m ittee on

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The Idea ofan Informed Citizenry Education defended it on cultural and political grounds, contrasting “the sullen discontent o f an ignorant people, brooding over evils which do not ex­ ist, and wrongs never sustained, w ith the happy condition o f a well-inform ed people, whose sound judgm ents discrim inate between the declam atory froth o f a dem agogue, and the sound doctrines o f political philosophy.”69 The N orth C arolina Literary Board vowed that "the establishm ent o f schools” was "a m oral duty im posed upon all governm ent.” T h is duty was especially vital in a dem ocratic republic in order to ensure that "the citizen m ay read and think for him self.” Above all, such education was essential to teach men their Christian duty now and for the hereafter.70 In N orth C arolina, as every­ where else across the United States, republicanism and awakened Chris­ tianity com plem ented each other.71 For opponents o f state action, tax resistance was their m ost effective com­ mon denom inator, but it w ould be a m istake to view their resistance to cos­ m opolitan efforts to establish the institutions o f an inform ed citizenry as m erely “penny-saving.” T h eir opposition carried cultural messages that only occasionally appeared in print. A crusty letter to the RaUigh Register va. 1829, for exam ple, merged opposition to schools, roads, canals, and the university. Existing transportation networks had made “our fathers . . . rich” and would serve the needs o f the present generation as well. "Innovations and alter­ ations” were sim ply unnecessary, no m atter how they m ight be described as “ im provem ents.” Sim ilarly, this critic found “our good old-field schools are . . . sufficient” to provide whatever literacy was needed. But his criticism went beyond such particulars to express a broad, down-to-earth, practical conservatism that was indifferent i f not actually skeptical about the idea o f an inform ed citizenry. Since m oney was scarce, the w riter claim ed, and existing schools had va­ cancies, there was no sense in starting more o f them . Rhetorically, this skep­ tic asked: "W ould it not redound as much to the advantage o f young persons, and to the honour o f the State, if they should pass their days in the cotton patch, or at the plow, or in the cornfield, instead o f being m ewed up in a school house, where they are earning nothing?” It was w rong, he as­ serted, to think “that everybody should be able to read, w rite and cipher.” Such skills m ight be needed " i f one is to keep a store or a school, o r . . . be a lawyer or physician . . . ; but if he is to be a plain former, or a m echanic, they are o f no m anner o f use, but rather a detrim ent.”72 W orking hard and keep­ ing taxes low were the route to general prosperity, according to the Raleigh Registers hom espun, latter-day M andeville. Furtherm ore, the university was an expensive institution that did more

The Idea ofan Informed Citizenry harm than good. "C ollege learned persons,” he wrote, "give themselves great airs, are proud, and the fewer o f them we have am ongst us the better.” U niversities were intrinsically "aristocratical” and "opposed to the plain, sim ple, honest m atter-of-fact republicanism .” A s for university studies, they w ere m ostly "arrogant and useless.” "W ho,” he asked, "wants Latin and G reek and abstruse m athematics . . . in a country like this?” According to this populist conservative republican, taxpayers m ight just as w ell "patronize alchym y [sic], astrology, heraldry and the black art.” To cosm opolitans who com plained that N orth Carolina’s educational system was weak com pared to those o f other states, he delivered an insular rejoinder: i f those states wished to follow other paths, that was their business; N orth Carolinians w ould pay low er taxes and be “perfecdy independent.”73 M oreover, the cham pions o f sim ilar views were not necessarily backw oods populists. Joh n Randolph, the V irginia patrician, told his colleagues at V irginia’s 1829 constitutional convention that i f the governm ent paid to educate children in com m on schools, then parents could spend their earn­ ings on liquor and the hardworking, deserving poor w ould end up paying fo r the lazy. H onest farmers’ sons w ould have to stay out o f school and labor all summ er in order to pay for the education o f the children o f drunkards. A ccording to Randolph, "T h e education o f their children is the first and m ost obvious, as it is the m ost interesting duty o f every parent; and one w hich the m ost worthless alone are ever known to neglect.”74 These were precisely the views o f Thom as Cooper, the president o f the U niversity o f South C arolina, who argued that if the state paid children’s tu­ itions, the bonds o f reciprocal obligation between parents and children w ould be destroyed. "T here is no man so poor,” C ooper claim ed, "that he cannot afford h a lf a day’s wages per week for the education o f his child.” Such m en, C ooper insisted, "w ould rather pay a sm all sum to a good school, frequented also by the children o f more opulent parents, than to send their children to a charity school.” B y paying tuition, fathers w ould see education as a "right” and w ould "take an interest in the management and the success o f the school.”73 According to Cooper, "only the children o f deserving pau­ pers should have their w ay paid before being bound out to some industrious calling” at twelve or fourteen years o f age. T h e college president favored a basic education for all free boys but nothing more. Too m uch education am ong com m on men w ould lead them to "roam abroad, and endeavour, like the pretenders w ho swarm as schoolmasters throughout our country, to live by head-work; because they have been rendered too idle by the very superfi­ cial knowledge they possess, to live by the labour o f their hands.”76 Although

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The Idea o fan Informed Citizenry it is im possible to determ ine just how widespread such views were, the long struggle to establish com prehensive systems o f state-supported schools in large, populous sa te s like V irginia and Pennsylvania, not ju st N orth C arolina and G eorgia, suggests that this kind o f conservative populism , of­ ten represented in the D em ocratic Party, enjoyed a follow ing in parts o f both the N orth and the South.77 Yet a decade later, in 1839, during a period when the W hig Party con­ trolled the sa te capital, N orth C arolina enacted a public school law. Notw ithstanding their southern sectional allegiance, school advocates claim ed that “ in the N orth, the system o f Public Schools has been adopted, and their people are now prospering.” In addition, the old republican and m eritocracy appeals for an inform ed citizenry— “popular intelligence is the m ighty lever o f a free governm ent,” the antidote to “dem agogues,” and “m erit constitutes the passport to honor and office; the road to prom otion is open to all”— provided justifications for the law.78 T h e establishm ent o f fully tax-supported free schools was still optional in each county, but whereas V irginias school law required a two-thirds vote to create common public schools, N orth C arolina now called for only a sim ple majority.79 View ed from the perspective o f earlier decades, this law represented a land­ m ark in sa te sponsorship o f an inform ed citizenry. Both rhetorically and as a m atter o f actual policy, the connection between public schools and an inform ed citizenry was securely established by the 1840s. But as com m on school reformers continued to insist, only a begin­ ning had been achieved. In the South, some legislatures still refused to fund com m on schools. Even in “m odel” states like Connecticut and Massa­ chusetts, the quality and extent o f public education foil for short o f any uni­ form standard o f m erit. T h e voluntary principle em bodied in lectures, lyceum s, libraries, political parties, and the use o f oratory and print re­ m ained fundam ental and applied to schools as w ell. N o sa te com pelled school attendance any more than it com pelled citizens to go to lectures, li­ braries, political rallies, or the polls. Although there was a broad consensus sustaining the idea that institutions should prom ote an inform ed citizenry and enable individuals to advance in knowledge, ultim ately the w hole struc­ ture rested on voluntary choice. For this reason, exh oration remained as fundam ental to the idea o f an in­ form ed citizenry as institutions. Because, like Christian conversion, being inform ed could be neither com pelled nor inherited, every segm ent o f each generation had to be persuaded o f its im portance. “Am erica is a great

The Idea o fan Informed Citizenry lyceum ,” one reform er exclaim ed, “a grand debating society, a mass conven­ tio n sitting permanently, and courting the utm ost freedom o f expression.”80 A s a result, public life generated a profusion o f rhetoric to support every m easure that prom oted an inform ed citizenry and oppose all obstacles that stood in its way. T h e argum ents o f the Sunday school leader, Frederick A . Packard, reveal the ways in which m any mainstream Christians were prepared to go beyond the old republican ideal w ithout rejecting it. Com m on schools were “em­ phatically a fa ilu re ” Packard claim ed, since fewer than 5 percent o f pupils w ere educated in the m anner that “the public good” and “p u b lic safety as w ell as their personal w ell-being required. Because pupils left school not fu lly literate, they could not “think, read, nor observe, profitably,” and they were so narrowly inform ed that they were subject to “violent prejudices” and liable to become “the dupes o f the w icked.” As o f 1840, Packard surm ised, m ore than a quarter o f the free inhabitants o f the U nited States over the age o f ten years could not read w ell enough to fu lfill their public and private re­ sponsibilities. Education, he declared, should teach Am ericans what “our country [is] bound to do for us, and what are we bound to do for her.” H e was alarm ed by the increase in the num ber o f ignorant adults since “an igno­ rant man is incapable o f bringing up his fam ily.”81 Like m any people w ho addressed the question o f an inform ed citizenry, the Presbyterian Packard adam antly supported m oral training because he believed that “education, w ithout religious instruction, could not control the strong passions o f the hum an race.” T h e poor were better left “ in igno­ rance” than to be educated in a purely secular way. D eclaring him self a foe o f “ bigotry, sectarianism , and fanaticism ,” he nevertheless argued that all teachers should instruct children “ in the fear o f G od” through Bible-based lessons. T h e specifics o f salvation should be left to others, but schools should counteract the “destructive influence o f a heartless, intolerant infidelity.” Because so m any parents seemed unable or unw illing to fulfill their respon­ sibilities, Packard believed no dependence should be placed on “the volun­ tary action o f the people.” School attendance should be com pulsory. T he wise and the good should unite to support state initiatives.82 A few years later, the W hig congressman H enry A . W ise delivered a farewell address to his V irginia constituents in which he pointed to the fail­ ures o f his own district and state. U nlike Packard, whose concerns were pri­ m arily m oral, W ise was troubled by the same issues o f inequality that M urphey had addressed in N orth C arolina nearly thirty years before. W ise lam ented the accuracy o f his opponents’ contem ptuous charge that m any o f

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This Arthur Anderson woodcut o f a sabbath school in which a male instructor teaches boys and girls suggests a traditional classroom that was more refined and orderly than most common schools. From Publications o f the American Tract Society, voL

(New

York, [1825-27]). Courtesy American Antiquarian Society. his voters “cannot read or write.” By his own calculations, more than a quar­ ter o f his constituents were illiterate, and voters in his district supported less than half the necessary number o f schools. As a result, statistics showed that the majority o f poor and near-poor children were growing up in ignorance. Virginias policy o f requiring everyone but the poor to pay tuition promoted feelings o f inequality that were counterproductive: “The child o f charity is humbled by the comparison o f itself with those who pay.” In addition, the policy discouraged the enrollment o f most poor children since “the pride of the parents so often revolts at the dependence and inequality in the school, that they often refuse to allow their children to enter.” Current policy de­ terred the very families who most needed schools from using them. Wise declared that the answer was to raise taxes in order to fund free schools for all white children, regardless o f wealth; all should “ be regarded as the sons and daughters o f the commonwealth.” Poor men, after all, were citizens who paid taxes, served on juries, and took up arms to defend the state. Therefore, it was only right that a poor man should be guaranteed the “ordinary privi­ leges o f citizenship” such as voting and, W ise asserted, “should have his chil­ dren educated as o f right free o f charge.” O nly then could Virginia achieve

The Idea o fan Informed Citizenry an inform ed citizenry. W ise, w ho w ould serve as the state’s governor during the C ivil War, told his constituents in 1844 that he wished to be remembered b y the next generation as the man "who told our parents that the state was bound to teach us a ll as its own children, a n d persuaded them to bear taxes fo r our education.”** Ironically, this ideal, which reached back to Thom as Jeffer­ son, could not w in support as public policy until Confederate V irginia was defeated and a Reconstruction governm ent took power. W ise’s vision o f the school as an agency o f equality in a republican m eri­ tocracy expressed a national ideal. Five years after W ise adm onished his V irgin ia constituents, the Boston Unitarian m inister Theodore Parker de­ clared in a lecture in Syracuse, N ew York, that “to educate the people is one o f the functions o f the S tate.. . . T h e com m unity owes each child born into it a chance for education, intellectual, m oral, and religious . . . not as a char­ ity, but as a right.”84 In the N orth, such views were easier to translate into policy than in the South, but tax resistance reinforced by dem ocratic indi­ vidualism was an obstacle everywhere. Even in the largely urban, industrial, progressive state o f Massachusetts, the secretary o f education, Horace M ann, faced opposition sim ilar to that in the rural South. Patriarchy endured in N ew England and farm ers relied on their children for labor, so M ann had to give up any thought o f com pulsory attendance at rural schools.85 T h e conduct o f industrial workers, even in the B ay State, where public schools charged no tuition, was often distressingly sim ilar to that o f rural people. In 1839 M ann railed at the "m any parents, not only o f our im m igrant, but o f our native population, so lost to the sacred na­ ture o f the relation they sustain to the[ir] children . . . , that they go from town to town, seeking to consign them to unbroken, bodily toil, although it involves the deprivation o f all the means o f intellectual and m oral growth.”8* A decade later, M ann w ould press unsuccessfully to require such children’s schooling. B y this tim e, M ann was warning o f a polarization between rich and poor in which the latter were degraded and exploited, much like the polarization that troubled W ise in V irginia. W ise had argued that in any su te where "one man is to be cultivated in his m ind, whilst the other is permitted to grow up in igno­ rance . . . the rich [become] richer, and the poor poorer— the strong stronger, and the weak weaker.”87 M ann’s language was different, but his perception was the same— "nothing but universal education,” he said, "can counter-work this tendency to the dom ination o f capital and the servility o f labor.*88 M idcentury reformers like M ann, Parker, and W ise justified the movement for an in­ form ed citizenry by cautioning against a contem porary variant o f the

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The Idea o fan Informed Citizenry European-style crisis o f corruption envisioned by early republican reformers. Already, W ise believed he could see “the foundation o f despotism .’*9 By m idcentury, the movement to create an inform ed citizenry, w hich had once im plied a kind o f elite republican social control through the indoctrina­ tion o f the com m on people, was being com plicated by the voluntary principle and a dem ocratic individualism that underm ined the authority o f all political and cultural prescriptions. In the revolutionary and early national eras, advo­ cates o f an inform ed citizenry had assumed that heads o f fam ilies w ould hold an enlightened view o f their self-interest and therefore act rationally w hen pro­ vided w ith opportunities to pursue it. Education w ould be em braced eagerly because it empowered adults politically and helped to assure the preservation o f citizens’ liberties. Th e cultivation o f personal virtues and abilities that edu­ cation prom oted also enhanced one’s social and career opportunities. To re­ form ers, it was unthinkable that some parents w ould deliberately reject such advantages when supplied freely by the state. But by 1850, advocates o f an in­ form ed citizenry had learned otherwise, and their response was to attem pt to im plem ent more public paternalism . Although children were not said to “ be­ long to the state” in the neoclassical terms that Rush had proclaim ed in the 1790s, reformers believed that “good men in society” could use the powers o f governm ent to “send redeeming influences to those children w ho suffer under the calam ity o f vicious parentage.”90 T h e problem for such reform ers in the political arena was that not everyone agreed on who “the good men in society” were. Reform ers like M ann, W ise, Parker, Packard, and the founders o f the Am erican Society for the D iffusion ofU sefu l Knowledge, am ong hundreds o f others, were prepared to identify themselves as “good m en,” but no parents came forward to disqualify themselves as “vicious” and resign w illingly their parental authority to the state. T h e idea o f forcing citizens and their children to become inform ed had a self-contradictory flavor, and it violated widely shared cultural and political assumptions. Exhortation and policies to encour­ age the institutions that enabled citizens to become inform ed, rather than co­ ercion, best suited Am erican political and cultural traditions and expectations. Exhortation, however, produced some unexpected outcom es. A s elite ad­ vocates o f an inform ed citizenry strove to bring learning into the households o f every white former and m ilitiam an, their messages also reached into the ranks o f workingm en, A frican Am ericans, and wom en. Ironically, their ar­ gum ents helped to mobilize disenfranchised groups to assert their claim s for inclusion in the nation’s inform ed citizenry. A nd for such disenfranchised groups, becom ing inform ed had the further attraction o f lending legitim acy to their assertions o f citizenship, whereas for those men who already pos-

The Idea ofan Informed Citizenry sessed the rights and privileges o f citizenship, becom ing inform ed was purely a m atter o f personal preference. T h e pursuit o f an inform ed citizenry com bined the impulses o f elites to achieve some measure o f social and cultural control w ith a much broader, m ore popular appetite for social and cultural opportunity in a com plex, dy­ nam ic political and cultural marketplace. Reform spokesmen were chroni­ cally frustrated because their reach always exceeded their grasp, and com m ercial purveyors o f inform ation were challenged by an ever-changing com petition w ith each other and w ith the private and public agencies that generated various form s o f subsidized inform ation. In this environm ent, the idea o f an inform ed citizenry itself continued to evolve in an open-ended process o f m utation in which the core idea o f responsible citizenship was overlaid w ith concerns for occupation, personal fulfillm ent, and privilege and status that were as various as the Am erican people themselves.

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M eaning o f an Informed Citizenry, 18 20 -18 70 In the 1840s and 1850s, when reformers like Congressm an H enry W ise and the educator Horace M ann asserted that access to schooling and becoming inform ed were the birthright o f every citizen, not a m atter o f private privi­ lege, they were carrying the argum ent for an inform ed citizenry toward its logical lim its. T h eir unspoken assum ption, o f course, was that this birthright applied only to free boys— in the Virginian W ise’s case, to free w hite boys— since they w ould grow up to exercise political power as voters. B ut others who stood outside the political mainstream held no such exclusive assump­ tions. A frican Am erican reformers and wom ens rights advocates believed that African Am ericans and women shared this birthright o f citizens. Labor reformers noted w ith outrage that the terms o f factory em ploym ent often precluded schooling and participation in civic culture so that the capacity o f workers to function as inform ed citizens was being endangered by the spread o f European-style ignorance. Ironically, the rhetorical trium ph o f the in­ form ed citizenry ideal and its expanding institutional foundations in public culture were accom panied by a polyphony o f criticism directed at the rem­ nants o f the “freeholder” concept o f citizenship, which continued to exclude substantial numbers— indeed, a m ajority o f Am erican-born adults— from the civil rights that were routinely proclaim ed as quintessentially American. D uring the h alf century from 1820 to 1870, the notion that voting was a privilege stricdy connected to freeholder status collapsed under a barrage o f criticism s. Landowning requirements yielded early— in 1776 in Pennsylvania — and were erased under pressure from com m on revolutionary soldiers and their sons. By the 1820s, these restrictions, as well as religious tests, had nearly all been elim inated by state constitutional conventions, but barriers based on race and sex remained secure, justified by the surviving im age o f the selfgoverning (if not actually landowning) citizen as w ell as prevailing prejudices and ideologies o f racial and gender hierarchy.1 For N ative Am ericans, who were generally viewed as foreign peoples— outsiders to the American 154

polity— additional com plexities blocked inclusion.

Testing theMeaning U ltim ately, the successful drive for the abolition o f slavery, which culm i­ nated in the ratification o f the Thirteenth Am endm ent in 1865, underm ined the occlusion o f A frican Am ericans from full citizenship rights, and in 1870 black men were granted the franchise via the Fifteenth Am endm ent. W om en, w hite and black, were sim ultaneously excluded from this constitu­ tional provision by om ission and by subsequent Suprem e C ourt rulings. M oreover, although revision o f the laws o f coverture extended the rights o f wom en to hold property independently in the 1840s and 1850s in a dozen states, the lim ited, second-class character o f their citizenship was form alized by the U .S. Suprem e C ou rt in 1875. B y this tim e, however, the idea that wom en could not and should not be voters did not mean that keeping them ignorant and uninform ed was ac­ ceptable. There were echoes o f Lancasterian and older charity school ideas about appropriate lim its on the education o f wom en and A frican Am ericans, lim its that w ould suit them for subordinate social roles, but no M andeville spoke up to defend a prescription o f pure ignorance. B y now, the justifica­ tion for an inform ed citizenry had moved so far beyond its original argu­ m ent— that it was necessary to ensure the defense o f liberty by voters in the political arena— that the doctrines o f universal education and universal suffrage could be separated. T h e purposes o f an inform ed citizenry, once es­ sentially political, had shifted to encompass such personal goals as individual fulfillm ent and career advancem ent as well as social objectives like honesty and industriousness or, in the case o f wom en, dom estic productivity and ex­ em plary w ifehood and m otherhood. T h e core principles o f political liberty, including freedom o f speech and o f religion and the whole array o f rights that had been so prom inent in seventeenth- and eighteenth-century strug­ gles, no longer supplied the param ount rationale for an inform ed citizenry. Instead, these principles were buttressed by a legion o f other justifications. I f the m eaning o f being inform ed varied and became especially fluid dur­ ing the decades after 1820, so too did the criteria for Am erican citizenship. W hen the Am erican lexicographer N oah W ebster com posed the entry for “citizen” in his Am erican D ictionary o f the English Language in 1828, he pre­ sented five distinct definitions, several o f which were in current use.1 N either com m on understanding nor contem porary law was dear and unequivocal, and where am biguity reigned, controversy flourished. Since the m eaning o f citizenship was freighted w ith profound political consequences, reformers and defenders o f the status quo understood that control o f the concept, both in law and in rhetoric, was crucial.

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Testingthe Meaning Free African Am ericans and their white abolitionist associates were espe­ cially eager to establish a definition o f citizenship that w ould provide civil equality for free persons o f color. But in a test case in the Connecticut Suprem e C ourt in 1833, they ran headlong into C h ie f Justice D avid Daggett. T h is aging Federalist anticipated the spirit o f Jacksonian Roger B . Taney’s ruling a generation later in the D red Scott case by asserting definite racial criteria for citizenship. C oncerning N ative Am ericans and A frican Amer­ icans, free or slave, he claim ed that according to the U .S. C onstitution, as well as every state constitution, "they are not citizens.”3 Rejecting Noah W ebster’s fourth definition o f a citizen as "a native or permanent resident o f a city or a country,” he quoted from Webster's more restricted and political fifth definition. T h is version defined a citizen in the United Su tes as a man who possessed “the privilege o f exercising the elective franchise, or the qual­ ifications which enabled him to vote for rulers, and to purchase and hold real esu te.”4 Although this definition clearly lim ited citizenship to m en, it was Daggett who interpreted W ebster’s words to mean w hite men. T h e Connec­ ticut jurist chose to ignore the fact that, in reality, some A frican Am ericans could and did actually vote as well as “purchase and hold real esute” in such powerful and prom inent states as N ew York, Pennsylvania, and V irginia— as well as in his own su re o f Connecticut. Indeed, there was some irony in the fact that as late as the 1830s a Yankee judge w ould enunciate a view o f citizenship more in keeping w ith southern than northern doctrines. T h e com m on source was an increasingly anachro­ nistic neoclassical republicanism that defined citizens as an aristocratic elite. In an 1835 address to the South C arolina Society for the Advancem ent o f Learning, a local jurist and politician, W illiam Harper, expounded this vi­ sion o f citizenship, w hich, he was quick to adm it, contradicted the Declara­ tion o f Independence’s egalitarian precepts. “ Natural equality and universal freedom ,” H arper asserted, “never did and never can exist.” T h e lesson o f history was unm istakable: “A ll the great and successful republics o f the world have been aristocucies.” 5 H arper explained that the policies o f sutes “ in which universal suffrage ex­ ists and domestic slavery is excluded” could only lead to public disaster. Ineviubly, despite “schemes o f universal education at public expense,” control o f government w ould “pass into the hands o f men w ithout property, without the means o f education, and consequently w ith defective intelligence and m orality.” Sounding a M andevillean note, he exulted that in South Carolina “the m enial and laborious offices o f society— are occupied by those who have no political power.” B y contrast, “every citizen is raised to the rank o f patri-

TestingtheMeaning cían,” and am ong citizens, H arper boasted, “we shall certainly have a larger proportion than any people ever had, o f education, intelligence and charac­ ter.” Blending arguments in favor o f plutocracy and natural aristocracy, H arper declared that the man who gained wealth “by his own exertions. . . has given presum ptive evidence o f intelligence, industry, and orderly habits,” and the man w ho “inherited i t . . . has had an opportunity o f acquiring liberal ideas and a cultivated intellect.”6 T h is vision o f an inform ed citizenry revived the m odel o f enlightened, Augustan England and the freeholder republic Such exclusive proclam ations o f citizenship would have been unnecessary, w hether in Connecticut or South C arolina, i f other voices had not been call­ ing for the realization o f the D eclaration o f Independence’s natural rights philosophy. Even though there was a broad consensus that every white per­ son, regardless o f age, sex, or national origin, was a citizen in the sense o f being a “perm anent resident,” W ebster’s fourth definition, there was dis­ agreement as to whether m erely being a white person justified having a polit­ ical voice. A nd i f a person had no right to vote, then being inform ed was not necessarily a m atter o f public interest. A frican Am ericans and their allies challenged these restrictions on citizen­ ship w ith argum ents based on natural rights doctrine. T h ey noted that A frican Am ericans had enlisted in the fight for Am erican independence and that in the first years o f the new republic none o f the states had applied a color test for voting. W hen racial restrictions were added to the voting laws o f South C arolina in 1778 and Delaware in 1787, m ost states did not choose to follow suit. Free blacks, they said, were generally allowed to vote in the 1780s and much later— in V irginia as late as 1850. U .S. naturalization law in 179 0 did proscribe foreign blacks as w ell as N ative Am ericans and Asians from becom ing citizens, but except for Am erican Indians, these restrictions had no bearing on persons born in the United States. T h e U .S. Constitution itself made no racial distinctions as such.7 Advocates o f wom en s rights could not lay claim to the franchise based on wom en’s m ilitary service in the Revolution— although a few wom en did par­ ticipate in the war— but they could argue that the U .S. C onstitution made no distinctions based on sex. O f course, no one claim ed that white wom en were not citizens, but i f m arried, as m ost o f them were, wom en were gener­ ally barred from exercising the key rights o f citizens, such as the right to hold and alienate property freely; to make w ills independently; to serve on juries and be tried by a ju ry o f peers; and, except briefly in N ew Jersey, to vote in local, state, and national elections.8 A s the reform er Ernestine L. Rose ar­ gued at a N ew York C ity women’s rights convention in 1853, the law perm it-

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Testingthe Meaning ted "all persons, except idiots, persons o f unsound m ind, m arried wom en, and infants” from m aking w ills, even though wom en were recognized as m entally com petent to manage property, whether m arried or not, and were allowed to make marriage contracts even before the age o f twenty-one.9 N o one even hinted that m arried wom en, Am ericas m others, were not citizens, yet like African Am ericans and N ative Am ericans, in a political sense they were classed with children and people who were m entally handicapped. Even white men did not always enjoy citizenship to its fullest extent. In a literal sense, the freeholder concept o f citizenship had lost its grip by 1830— except in Rhode Island, where an uprising in the 1840s led to its demise— but its biases persisted. Thom as Cooper, the president o f the U niversity o f South C arolina and the author o f an im portant textbook in political science, was ready to drop landowning requirements for voters, but he still sharply criticized " u n iv e r s a l

su f f r a g e

. . . the root o f the evil.” Reacting against

the w ritings o f English and Am erican reformers o f the 1820s, he focused his objections on the "unm arried operative, whose whole property is upon his back or in his bundle; who has no local permanent attachm ents, who is a mere sojourner am ong us, a passenger, here to-day and gone to-m orrow.” Such men, C ooper argued, had "no stake in the com m unity,” whereas, he in­ sisted, "the right o f v o tin g ,. . . is a right to be earned” and thus ought to be "restricted to householders who have p a id taxesfo r a yea r?10 It was im perative that such voters be qualified as inform ed by their literacy, and each voter should "be bound to declare. . . that the ticket by him delivered in, is in his own handw riting.” 11 Such men were responsible for educating their children at their own expense. In contrast to Europe, C ooper m aintained, in the United States "there is no man so p o o r. . . that he cannot afford h a lf a days wages per week for the education o f his child.” 12 C oopers recipe for full citizenship rights expressed a somewhat old-fash­ ioned flavor to northern tastes. H e was, after all, like Harper, a spokesman for the m ost frankly elitist o f the Am erican states. Yet the contem porary protests o f factory workers w ho dwelled in the very N ew England su tes that were held up nationally as m odel republics o f inform ed citizens indicate that the issues C ooper was addressing were national. T h e actual experiences o f some Yankees w ho worked in textile m ills, however, flatly contradicted Cooper s assertions about their ability to inform themselves and educate their children. T h e factory workers’ movement to am eliorate their own circum stances and those o f their children by reducing the w orkday to ten hours appealed to the mainstream ideology o f an inform ed citizenry o f freem en, white men who could join in what one scholar calls "H errenvolk egalitarianism .”13

TestingtheMeaning T h e m ost plaintive o f the workingm en s appeals to the ideology o f an in­ form ed citizenry were not truly radical but backward looking, even nostal­ gic. In 1832 an open letter addressed to all N ew England factory owners expressly declared that the existing system afoster[ed] ignorance” and w ould ultim ately so degrade a large mass o f the people that they w ould either "be­ com e fit instrum ents to establish dom estic slavery” or else become so de­ m oralized that they w ould "tam ely surrender it [the country] to a foreign despot.” Iw o-th irds o f the men who worked in factories put in 78 to 96 hours weekly and thus could not begin to "store their m inds w ith useful in­ form ation, to become acquainted w ith the principles o f our governm ent. . . and be prepared as good citizens.”14 Such men could not help but be igno­ rant, the potential tools o f despots and demagogues. T h e 80,000 wom en and children w ho worked in cotton factories, who w ould later become "m others o f fam ilies” or "fathers and citizens,” were also "deprived o f the means o f that mental culture, necessary to prepare them to fill w ith honor, those stations designed for th e m . . . by the Am erican Constitution.*5 Striking an elegiac note, this adm onition to factory owners concluded w ith the w arning that "the last remains o f a more favored generation now sur­ round you____But the period is rapidly approaching, when those remains shall have passed away.” Then the United States w ould face a republican apocalypse "in all its horrors,” w ith its citizenry reduced to "a race o f igno­ rant, unenlightened beings,” and all w ould "hear the expiring groans o f Am erican Freedom!” Before it was too late, factory owners should recognize the evil tendencies o f their policies and embrace both the ten-hour workday and provisions allow ing factory children to attend com m on schools.16 In one sense, Yankee workers’ struggles to m aintain their self-respecting "freem an” citizenship set them apart from A frican Am ericans and others w ho were w idely excluded from voting. But the connections across racial lines were drawn explicidy in an 1833 workingm ens appeal arguing that it was prim arily the condition o f being inform ed that separated these two classes o f inhabitants. "T h e inferiority o f our colored population,” the argu­ m ent stated, "arises chiefly from their ignorance; and were the whites de­ prived o f their present opportunities o f knowledge, they w ould soon relapse into the degradation and barbarism o f the enslaved A frican and the savage Indian.” 17 From this perspective, being inform ed was not only vital to re­ publican liberty but also crucial in establishing identity itself. T h is issue o f identity, as suggested in the preceding chapter, was bound up tighdy w ith education and knowledge, or the sense o f being inform ed. T his is revealed in the w orkingm ens press, which treated subjects associated w ith

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Testingthe Meaning selfhood extensively. Because the boundaries as well as the definitions o f so­ cial class were fluid, the entire subject o f class was contested, and the fact that m any workers began their lives in yeom an or artisanal fam ilies gave the ques­ tion o f identity a special immediacy. A s the above suggestion that whites m ight suffer the degradation o f blacks and N ative Am ericans demonstrates, white workingm en felt beleaguered in the new w orld o f com petitive capital­ ism because it challenged their ability to m aintain a respectable station. W orkingmen’s ideas about an inform ed citizenry were affected in several ways by the increasingly com petitive society. T h ey sought public, egalitarian schools and advocated m anual labor schools because these institutions prom ised to enable the children o f workingm en to achieve respectable sta­ tions in life. Conversely, anything that smacked o f exploitation or class priv­ ilege, including excessive child labor for the poor and the higher education o f men o f means, created a g u lf o f ignorance that w ould debase and hum iliate workingm en and their children. Like others, workingm en valued self-educa­ tion and self-culture highly, not only as a means o f econom ic advancem ent and political empowerm ent but also as sources o f self-esteem. Generally, workingm en's specific views were close to those o f the m ainstream spokes­ men who lectured publicly throughout the country, but sometimes working­ men expressed opinions that were at variance w ith prevailing conventions. T h e sentim ents o f Edward Everett, one o f Am ericas great popular orators from the 1820s through the 1860s, supply a revealing counterpoint to work­ ingmen’s views. Everett repeatedly celebrated the im portance and freedom o f “each individual.” Am erican institutions, he said, provided the level playing field on which "our system o f free schools has opened a straight w ay from the threshold o f every abode, however h u m b le. . . to the high places o f useful­ ness, influence, and honor.” In this free, com petitive environm ent, every­ thing rested on personal responsibility: "It is left for each, by the cultivation o f every talent; by w atching. . . for every chance o f im provem ent, by bounding fo rw ard . . . at the m ost distant glim pse o f honorable opportu­ nity; . . . by redeeming tim e, defying tem ptation, and scorning sensual plea­ sure; to make him self useful, honored, and happy.”18 Ignoring the advantages that wealth and class provided, the H arvard man Everett declared that there was “no im portant difference in the situation o f individuals, but that which they themselves cause or perm it to exist.” To him , inequalities o f wealth were m erely “another excitem ent to that industry, by w h ic h . . . wealth is acquired.”19 W orkingm en shared Everetts belief in individual exer­ tion, but their view o f reality was not as rosy. For one thing, a com m ittee o f the N ew England Association o f Farmers,

Testingthe Meaning M echanics, and O ther W orkingm en declared in 1832, m ost factory owners only perm itted children “to obtain an education. . . on the Sabbath, and af­ ter h a lf past eight o’clock, o f the evening o f other days.” 10 Such obstacles barred any “straight w a y . . . to the high places o f usefulness, influence, and honor.” M oreover, it was not just children w ho worked in factories who were at a disadvantage. In 1833 a w riter com plained in a Boston w orkingm ens newspaper that “the aristocracy. . . seem determ ined violendy to oppose a system o f education free for all, at the expense o f all— a system which w ill place side by side the children o f the rich and the poor.”11 According to the w orkingm an John B . Eldredge, there was sim ply no legitim ate reason “w hy knowledge should not be equal am ong the poor as well as the rich.” W ithout a suitable republican education for all, “the bonds o f m ental slavery” w ould subvert the principles o f 1776 . Edw ard Everett was describing a m ythological w orld, Eldredge declared, whereas in reality for over fifty years “m any free born citizens o f this Republic have been com pelled by poverty to grovel in the darkness o f ignorance.” T h e fact that Am erica was not, as Thom as C ooper had said, as bad as Europe did not mean that all was w ell since for years parents had been forced to anticipate “their childrens future hardships and degradation— o f seeing their offspring bandied about as the sculions [sic\ o f every man that w ill afford them a shelter.”11 According to the analyses o f writers in the workingm ens press, the United States had a class problem created by the disparities between the rich and the poor. T h e wealthy were trained to see themselves as thinkers and rulers, whereas the poor were raised to see themselves as laborers and followers. Taxsupported public schools could change these perceptions by educating all children together, both to think and to do m anual labor. A fter their m inds had been shaped in this republican setting, they could go their various w ays.13 Joh n Eldredge argued further that “a dem ocratic form o f govern­ m ent . . . is incom plete and insufficient” w ithout a state-run education sys­ tem “which shall afford to every citizen the scientific and political knowledge necessary to qualify him as an independent voter and equal m em ber o f a popular governm ent.”14 But public schools were only part o f the solution to the problem s o f class inequalities and a republican citizenry. Self-education provided a sure foun­ dation for the developm ent o f self-respect am ong people o f all ages and con­ ditions, according to Edward Everett as w ell as workingm ens writers. It was true, o f course, that “there is a litde tim e, and a very little it is, in which me­ chanics m ay im prove their m inds.” But “ O thm an” argued that they could still “obtain much useful knowledge.” H e recom m ended that “when we re-

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Testingthe Meaning tire from our w ork in the evening, an hour or tw o, devoted to reading, or discussing some question, is worth double that tim e thrown aw ay in a dram shop or a tavern.” W orkingm en possessed the ability uto becom e useful” in a larger sense, for am ong them were “young men who w ould not disgrace the legislature o f any su te” if they engaged in proper self-education. It w as time, “ O thm an” said, “we aroused ourselves in pursuit o f knowledge.” T h e task of bosses was to shorten hours and increase pay in order to encourage working­ m ens education.25 Because argum ents for the inform ed workingm an were connected to the movement for a ten-hour workday, one m ight be tem pted to discount them as mere political propaganda. A fter all, in the political batde to lim it the power o f bosses to d icu te w orking conditions, argum ents that focused on the creation o f inform ed citizens were linked to mainstream D em ocratic and W hig republicanism and made the bosses look like M andevillean tories who were w illing to sacrifice the republic’s future on the altar o f greed. Yet be­ cause the argum ents were chiefly presented to an audience o f workingm en in their own press and did not circulate w idely in mainstream com m ercial pa­ pers, there is reason to believe that they truly expressed some workingm ens views. A t a U tica, N ew York, “ M echanics and Laboring M ens” m eeting, for exam ple, one com plaint the participants registered was that toiling twelve to fifteen hours daily “shuts out all opportunity for the im provem ent o f the m ind.” T h e members went on to pledge that if they could secure a ten-hour workday, they w ould use their tim e as much “as m ay be p u cticab le for the purposes o f acquiring useful and p u ctical intelligence, and o f disseminating the same to those around us.” M oreover, they w ould create their own read­ ing room and stock it w ith books, newspapers, and periodicals so that they could become inform ed on current events.26 Another telling example was a satire o f an Edward Everett-style address to mechanics extolling “the great engine o f knowledge, the Press, [which] is free, unshackled— shedding upon all the brightest beams o f literature, sci­ ence and arts.” In the satire the orator, using Everett-like platitudes, advises mechanics that “ by books we can draw around us the vast fields o f knowl­ edge which have been sown and cultivated by the great and learned o f all ages and nations, and there we can gather a plentiful harvest o f knowledge.” But the m echanic replies that he knows o f the im portance o f reading; the problem is that mechanics “see ‘the streams o f inform ation flow’ by them w hile they are not perm itted to drink. Because. . . tim e w ill not perm it.” Em ployers, he says, were either indifferent to their workers’ cultural needs or actively hostile; for laborers “to leave their task is sure to m erit a snarl, and

Testingthe Meaning often tim es a dism issal.” W hat mechanics needed from their "avaricious em ployers” was "tim e to read.” 27 O ne cannot say how m any workingm en shared this view, but the laborer’s voice expressed in this satire was not the rhetoric o f mainstream propaganda, and its central com plaint— that litde tim e was available for self-education— was com m onplace in workingm ens publications o f the 1830s. A s the editor o f the N ew England A rtisan an d Laboring M ens Repository put it, no m atter how much C onnecticut m ight boast o f its universal literacy, the ability to read was useless " i f a person be de­ barred the privilege o f reading study, and reflection.” 28 From the perspective o f employees, it was clear that the factory system was squeezing their tim e fo r the cultural activities essential to inform ed citizens. Although workingm en saw long hours and greedy bosses as m ajor barriers to elevating their social standing and becom ing empowered through being in­ form ed, they also recognized— as the U tica resolutions attest— that using their tim e constructively was their own problem . According to labor reform ­ ers, the two tem ptations that m ost often diverted workingm en horn the cul­ ture o f self-im provem ent were frequent tavern-going and the unrelieved pur­ suit o f the last dollar by w orking as much as possible. V isiting taverns som etim es led to excessive drinking and always involved what was criticized as idle sociability, in which hours slipped by in gossip and storytelling. O verw ork was said to be founded on a single-m inded, practical m aterialism and the be­ lie f that books and lectures consisted o f airy speculations and im aginings, w hich were o f litde use in the m uch-to-be-preferred concrete w orld o f the here and now.29 Both o f these behaviors presented obstacles to developing the so­ cial self-respect and self-assertion that political empowerment demanded. T h e problem o f gaining self-respect operated on two levels. First, and m ost obvious, was the fact that workingm en lacked book-learning and pub­ lic-speaking skills. A s a N ew Bedford, M assachusetts, spokesman put it: "W e are at present deficient o f those m ental acquirem ents which to a society are indispensably necessary.”30 But underlying this lim itation was a deeper def­ erential attitude that held workingm en back— "their unfounded self-dis­ trust.” T h e workingm an "m ust disabuse him self o f his fear and trem bling at the power and bluster o f men, no wiser nor better than him self.” Instead o f accepting the top-down leadership criteria that had long been em ployed in politics, religion, and education, workers should elect men who were qual­ ified for office because o f their "honest poverty and hum ility, sim plicity o f m anners, frugality in living, and patient industry.” Calloused hands, apron, and sm ock should no longer be regarded as "unfitting” for a man aspiring to public service.31

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Testingthe Meaning C alls like these resonated am ong workingm en and helped to promote their participation in self-im provem ent culture. But regardless o f how acces­ sible print became in the 1830s and 1840s, self-im provem ent required more than closeting oneself w ith books. Som e considered the lyceum movement a panacea because it was cheap, entertaining, social, and inform ative. In 1832 the N ew England Association o f Farmers, M echanics, and O ther W orking­ men resolved that “whereas Ignorance is believed to be the principal cause of the evils connected w ith the condition o f the w orking classes. . . the forma­ tion o f Lyceums and other Associations for m utual im provem ent, are among the best measures . . . to im prove the minds o f the w orking classes; and to increase their power, augm ent their wealth, and extend their influence in the R epublic.”32 Accordingly, these workingm en recommended that their “ brethren throughout the country” form lyceum s and “extend the benefits of them to both sexes and all ages o f their fam ilies, friends, and neighbors.”33 These workingm ens lyceums w ould pursue subjects in the liberal arts and natural sciences and, by including exercises in declam ation, w ould “ increase the confidence o f speakers in debate.”34 Im proving their skills at public speaking was especially im portant to workingm en because such skills were central to their political enfranchise­ m ent. A s long as they could be out-talked by gentlem en and professional men, their autonom y as citizens— inform ed or not— was compromised. Since self-culture, including public speaking, was crucial for their political advancem ent, the lyceum appeared to be a prom ising institution. Yet within m onths o f the prolyceum resolutions o f the Farmers, M echanics, and Other W orkingm ens Association, a caustic critique o f lyceum s was printed in the workingm ens press arguing that, especially in cities and large towns, lyceum s were not only failing to diffuse inform ation am ong all classes but actually reinforcing class boundaries. “ T h ey too frequendy kill the sparks o f am bition . . . o f the young laborer or m echanic,” the cride observed, “while they kindle and invigorate that, which spurs on the son o f the lordling.” The problem lay in the social dynam ics o f such gatherings, which put down workingm en: Let him whose hard hand is the insignia o f his calling, rise in one o f our m odern Lyceums to express his honest views on a question under debate, and how is he received by a fashionable audience. I f not frowned down by any im pudent young pettifogger— the sarcastic sm iles o f the pedlars o f ribbons, or indirect m anifestadon o f displeasure from gendem en o f leisure, palsies his confidence, cherishes his credulity, and renders him in

TestingtheMeaning their hands, like clay in the hands o f the potter.. . . [Lyceums] therefore, benefit the affluent, the learned— and them alone— instead o f dem olish­ ing the partition walls which divide class from class, lay them broader and m ore form idable than b efore.. . . Lyceums conducted on the present plan— we believe them to be aristocratic establishm ents, gotten up by the rich and the influential to perpetuate their power and consequence. . . where the people are required to meet at set times to hear a flippant lawyer or some other candidate for popular favor display his college learn­ ing in the use o f hard words and unm eaning phrases, which are o f no sort o f consequence to those w ho get their bread by the sweat o f their brow.35 Lyceum s based on this m odel w ould not inform as m uch as they w ould in­ doctrinate workingm en, disem powering them by convincing them to accept the hegem ony o f the ruling classes. But lyceum s open to all— which quickly became agents o f elite dom i­ nance— though widespread in the N orth, were not the only lyceum s avail­ able. T h e N ew Bedford, M assachusetts, W orkingmens Press praised “Asso­ ciations for M utual Im provem ent” that lim ited membership to “com m on people” as “an efficient m ethod o f diffusing rational knowledge am ong the young m en, and especially am ong young m echanics.”36 In Boston, too, the “M echanics’ Lyceum” worked effectively, and it was reported that “the mem­ bers acquire a habit o f doing their own studying and speaking,. . . calling into exercise the faculties o f their own m inds, and . . . im proving their own m anner o f delivery.”37 In theory, the ideal o f m ixing all ages and classes in one com m unity o f self-im provem ent m ight be appealing, but it could never w ork properly because “the few” w ould always pursue “their diabolical purposes.” Since the producing classes had less tim e for study, it was said, they were less learned and therefore unable to com pete successfully w ith the “non-produc­ ers,” w ho used “satire to destroy their confidence and kill their am bition.” I f workingm en were to pursue the self-culture necessary to become inform ed citizens, a kind o f self-im posed class segregation was necessary.38 O ne additional lim itation on workingm en’s efforts to acquire learning was a current o f anti-intellectualism that ran through their rhetoric. W riters, scholars, and professors were all “non-producers,” and the fact that higher education was seen as an agency that supplied “non-producers” w ith the tools to keep “producers” down tainted the entire concept o f advanced and theoretical learning. W hen Seth Luther, the Yankee labor reform er who was im prisoned during Rhode Island’s D orr Rebellion, considered higher learn­ ing, he emphasized class issues: “ We have been paying taxes, to build col-

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Testingthe Meaning leges, to educate rich mens sons to be doctors, and lawyers, & c . & c ., to en­ able them to grind our own (aces on the grindstone o f m onopolies and m onied corporations.”39 Taxes, Luther argued, should be used to "establish M anual Labor Sch oo ls. . . for the benefit o f all, at the expense o f all.” W orkingm en were not opposed to learning per se, but they were w ary o f any institution or policy that strengthened their adversaries. Ultim ately, Luther and his reform brethren argued, "we m ust make labor respectable.”40 T h e ultim ate irony o f Am erican policy from the w orkingm ans perspec­ tive was that it was easier to become an inform ed subject o f the "despotic” Prussian m onarchy than it was to become an inform ed citizen o f “free Am erica” because the Prussian state supplied a com prehensive, truly public education system .41 According to the Unitarian reform er Theodore Parker, Prussia’s king “ has yet done more for the education o f all classes o f his peo­ ple, than all the politicians o f the twenty-six States have done w ith the wealth o f the public lands and the surplus revenue before them and the ban­ ner o f freedom over their heads.”42 T h e problem had m any origins, including individualism , greed, sectarian and partisan concerns, and suspicion o f governm ent, am ong others. What Parker chose to emphasize, however, was a pragm atic anti-intellectualism that cut across all class and regional boundaries and encompassed the cul­ tural mainstream. Parker argued that when Am ericans sought learning and inform ation, they wanted “a result which they can see and handle; and since wisdom and m anly excellence are not visible com m odities, they say they have no tim e for mental culture.” Consequendy, workers became "hands, and hands o n ly . . . who can eat, drink, and vote.” Too m any workers, Parker com plained, "were content to do nothing but work” and left serious reading and thinking to others.43 Reform ers like Parker and Luther and the various workingm ens associations believed that even though workingmen possessed all the rights and privileges o f citizenship, from property owner­ ship to ju ry duty to the franchise, they were poorly inform ed and m ight even slide back into old-fashioned, European-style ignorance and depravity. No M andevilles came forward to argue that laboring men should not be in­ form ed, but in Rhode Island, the nations m ost fully industrialized state, not even the D orr Rebellion o f the early 1840s could com pletely erase taxpaying and property requirements for voting. Rhode Island W higs preferred to lim it suffrage for Catholics, foreigners, and factory workers rather than pay to educate them .44 M oreover, although the people o f C onnecticut and Massachusetts prided themselves on their states’ high literacy rates as Am erica’s "capitals” o f inform ed citizenry, it was only after a decade or so o f

Testingthe Meaning reform ers’ protests that their legislatures enacted child labor restrictions and com m on school provisions to assure that children who worked in factories w ould have access to public schools. W hereas the case o f propertyless workingm en required some adjustm ent o f com m on understandings o f citizenship and suffrage, the circumstances o f N ative Am ericans were truly anom alous. T h ey were, o f course, free native residents o f the United States and often o f particular states as w ell and thus were nom inally qualified for full citizenship. Yet as long as they lived in “tribes,” rather than as assim ilated individuals, they were historically under­ stood to be members o f foreign nations. T h ey and their lands were exem pt from taxation, they entered into treaties w ith the U .S. governm ent, and their adm inistration was supervised as a branch o f foreign relations by the secre­ tary o f state until the 1840s. T h e C onstitution, which referred explicitly to N ative Am ericans twice, excluded them from congressional apportionm ent calculations and empowered Congress to regulate trade w ith “ Indian tribes” ju st as it regulated trade w ith foreign nations.4* Because N ative Am ericans retained their group identity rather than as­ sim ilating as individuals am ong other citizens, they were not recognized legally as citizens or as participants in the Am erican polity. Therefore, w ithin the ffam ew ork o f Am erican political ideology, the question o f whether or not they were inform ed was irrelevant. But because missionaries persisted in trying to bring N ative Am ericans to C hristianity and to assim ilate them into yeom an culture, the issue o f whether or not they were inform ed was always im portant to some Am ericans. Indeed, what was m ost significant for the de­ velopm ent o f the idea o f an inform ed citizenry was the w ay in which experi­ ences w ith the N ative Am ericans perpetuated the English charity school idea o f education for piety, not politics. T h is conception o f schooling was dis­ carded in w hite society when the Lancasterian idea collapsed in the 1830s, but its persistence am ong missionaries to N ative Am ericans and African Am ericans, both slave and free, had powerful consequences. For A frican Am ericans, especially, it com plicated the movement for the recognition o f full citizenship because the charity school idea separated education from po­ litical empowerment. N ative Am ericans’ own ideas at that tim e about the nature o f citizenship are not known except for those o f the Cherokees, whose adoption o f European customs in the 1820s included the form ation o f a constitutional governm ent, a legislature, a w ritten language, and a newspaper. Cherokee law, at least from the 1820s to the 1870s, made citizenship a m atter o f descent

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Testing theMeaning and included property and political rights for men. N on-Cherokees might be adm itted to citizenship by the governing council but only on a case-by­ case basis. As with m any contem porary su te governm ents, C herokee law excluded “all free negroes” from "com ing into the Cherokee nation” and pro­ hibited both N ative Am ericans and whites from m arrying “ N egro slaves.”46 T h e form o f the Cherokee governm ent, which was aim ed at securing con­ gressional recognition and protection, was broadly republican, and its prin­ ciples included the declaration that "R eligion !,] m orality and knowledge being necessary to good Governm ent, the preservation o f liberty, and the happiness o f m ankind, Schools and the means o f education shall forever be encouraged in this N ation.”47 However, nine o f the twenty-one delegates who approved this constitutional provision could not sign their nam es, and the degree o f actual com m itm ent to schools was even more tenuous than in the southern states whose constitutions made sim ilar proclam ations. Judging from an id es, editorials, and letters in the Cherokee press, the idea o f an inform ed citizenry was developed alm ost entirely by m issionaries and then only to a lim ited extent. T h e m ost am bitious plan for creating an inform ed N ative Am erican citi­ zenry was an abonive project launched by the Am erican So d ety for Prom oting the C ivilization and General Im provem ent o f the Indian Tribes in the United States, whose corresponding secretary and principal agent was the evangelical C alvinist and geographer Jedidiah M orse. O rganized in 1822 in W ashington, D .C ., and sponsored by secular and religious leaders from throughout the nation, this society aim ed "to secure for these tribes instruc­ tion in all branches o f knowledge, suited to their capacities and condition; and for this purpose to ascertain the character and strength o f their moral and intellectual powers.” Ultim ately, the society hoped to raise Native Am ericans "from a su te o f ignorance, heathenism and wretchedness” to "C ivilization and Christianity” as yeom an farm ers.48 O ne o f the society’s m ost optim istic members, the Reverend W illiam Jenks, had w orked among N ative Am ericans in M aine, and his goal was to link education w ith citizen­ ship. In a letter to M orse that was published in the first (and only) annual re­ port o f the society, Jenks declared his belief that Am erican Indians could "be educated. . . for the duties o f freemen and citizens” and that "the United Su tes could not be dishonored by citizenship awarded to such.”49 T he idea that N ative Am ericans could become inform ed citizens through the Christian model and thereby be integrated into civic culture was echoed periodically in the late 1820s and early 1830s, at the same tim e that Cherokee removal beyond the M ississippi River was becom ing fixed as U .S. policy. In

Testing the M eaning

innUa Skadan, m , Id 8, l»,Vi R u t h C h a p te r I. 1. W ic a i ta wolccau oytte wicayiihapi ion, be ehan, Ju d a makocc km en wie«* it irán. U nkan wicaxta v a n , tawicu, ni* îintku nonpa hena om , Betnlehein otonwre

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' Orpah kunku i itp u u k a ; tuka R ath c en yuaa. W iraxta owasin hecen cante m - ^nio, q% Johowa wanna adotkiya c e ," era « p i qex, waxte k ti tuka. llen a hecitu Hecen Aberam cibintku kihduxkc ra ki áskamicicivi. 15. Unkan R uth hehan bcciya, th an . | unkan onhanketa Jehowa hecin , nace : kte xni kin on woxongya pida. I nka» "Aberam cihintku I*«k he lymankidake, taindoka, wan. he km etanhan oten ikonieun wanna ire taorate, q t Uku wak&o 1 î ta iva ekta hda ce, lie iyaboa hda ye, eya- caix m ire iyotanmakida, he tuktc ireeetu rag uajin Aberam wanyake echan, h* hecin batí, ito ntauin k ti ce," ecin nace, erakn, qa cihintku wahduxna kte çiqon 10. Unkan Ruth heya, Erpeciye kta, ' qa ciyahna nuie kte xni ketnakiyt* in i ye ; nakax te m a rin laku econxi. He chan t imdoka M wayuxna q t wop.da Jehowi ! kecira. Unkan w ankantaunhan Wabo * i____

!

liorinktn ■ nirnlinind* r»I

The idea that missionaries could lead Indians into Christian civilization persisted long afier Cherokee removal This 1852 St. Paul, Minnesota, periodicalpresents, among other texts, a translationfrom the Bible in the Dakota language. The masthead shows a mis­ sionary distributing books and theperiodical to Indian men, a child, and a woman. A t the left in the background is the mission, a gabledframe house surrounded by tepees. Courtesy American Antiquarian Society.

1828, during its first year o f publication , the w eekly Cherokee

referred

to “the diffusion o f political know ledge” as one o f its purposes, together w ith prom oting “a taste fo r literature and know ledge in general.” 50 T h e next year, an academ y w as organized at the C herokee capital o f N ew Echota, ju stified in part because "it becom es every citizen . . . , particu larly every ruler, as a guardian o f the nations w elfare, to do his utm ost to forw ard education” as the c h ie f bulw ark against "the com m on burial place o f Indians— o b livion .”51 Five years later, a clergym an review ed T hom as D ick s O n the Im provem ent o f Society by the D ifu sió n o f K now ledge favorably in the Cherokee P hoenix a n d In dian s’A dvocate, u nderlining D ick’s argum ents against "superstition” and in favor o f "the diffusion o f know ledge am ong the people.” ** Indeed, the m ost pow erful, consistent stream o f rhetoric cam e from m is­ sionaries w ho believed that education fo r piety, m orality, and salvation need not include civic o r political inform ation. A fter his arrival in the U nited

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Taring the Meaning Su tes, Joseph Lancaster recommended “m anual, agricultural and m echani­ cal arts” training for Native Am erican boys and “every dom estic art” for girls; in fact, a Lancasterian school operated briefly in Kentucky in 1828, serving Choctaw, C ieek, Chickasaw, and other Native Am erican children.53 Train­ ing for useful, productive piety on the charity school m odel, not political o r civic education, usually represented the m ost generous, progressive thinking o f the era. In contrast, secular policym akers had no such agenda. P. B . Poner, the secretary o f war in John Q uincy Adam s’s adm inistration, argued against any kind o f education for N ative Am ericans because it tended to create a permanent m issionary infrastructure that m ight actively oppose rem oval o f N ative Am ericans to the West. In Poner’s view — one that was w idely held outside o f m issionary circles— education did Indians more harm than good and, in the end, ruined them by underm ining their culture, m aking them good-for-nothing.54 W ith voices like Porter’s influencing national policy, ar­ gum ents for fu lly inform ed and enfranchised N ative Am ericans were not heeded. T h e strongest supporters o f N ative Am erican education in the United States were missionaries, and their prim ary goals were C hristian con­ version and salvation, not political empowerment. In some im portant ways, the discussion o f an inform ed N ative Am erican citizenry overlapped consideration o f an inform ed A frican Am erican citi­ zenry. In both cases, citizenship was w idely denied, regardless o f birthplace, at least partly on racial grounds. A nd in both cases, education was frequently prom oted for apolitical evangelical reasons. But for A frican Am ericans, the issues were more vexed and controversial both because there were many more A frican Am ericans and because their populations— divided between the m illions held in slavery and the hundreds o f thousands w ho were free and living in northern and southern states— did not live apart from white Am erica but were thoroughly enmeshed in Am erican society. U nlike the N ative Am ericans, no one thought o f A frican Am ericans as separate nations only m arginally involved in Am erican life. From the m om ent David D aggett pronounced his 1833 courtroom assertion o f black noncitizenship, it was doubtful and disputed. B y the 1840s, it was deemed patendy w rong in a num ber o f states and vigorously challenged in others. Like workingm en, and in contrast to Native Am ericans, m any A frican Am ericans actively pursued the fullest enfranchisem ent under the banner o f the principles o f 1776. T h e com plications o f citizenship for A frican Am ericans were starkly illus­ trated by debates over their voting rights in N ew York, Connecticut, and Pennsylvania in the generation follow ing the War o f 1812. In all o f these

Testing theMeaning states, as in N ew Jersey, V irginia, and a few others, no racial restrictions on voting had been specified in their Revolution era laws. Therefore, i f blacks fulfilled the general suffrage requirements o f property, residence, and citi­ zenship, they were allowed to vote, and they did so in sm all numbers. But w hen the numbers o f free blacks grew in the early decades o f the nineteenth century as a result o f northern states’ abolition o f slavery and the enactm ent o f liberal manum ission laws in the upper South, white sentim ent to keep blacks subordinate by excluding them from civic culture also grew. First in Connecticut and N ew York, then in other eastern states w ith significant black populations, efforts were made to rewrite state suffrage laws to end black voting. T h e im plications o f this restrictive movement to lim it the boundaries o f Am erican citizenship affected the idea o f an inform ed citi­ zenry directly and suggested that perhaps the real issue for the United States had become whether it w ould possess an inform ed w hite citizenry. In N ew York these issues were addressed at the 1821 state constitutional convention. A t this gathering, a concerted attem pt was launched to end the states fieeholders-only voting requirement. To do so, however, w ould instandy enfranchise a few thousand black men, m any o f whom dwelled in N ew York C ity. Therefore, the convention com m ittee that recommended liftin g the property restriction on voting substituted a new barrier o f race. N ative Am ericans were also affected by the substitution o f the race restric­ tion for the property restriction, but since scarcely any o f them had ever m et the old property restriction, their voting status changed 'litde.55 A frican Am ericans were the m ain target, as was evident from the intensely racist sen­ tim ents explicit in public discussion. T h e com m ittee chairm an, John Z . Ross o f Genesee C ounty in the west­ ern part o f the state, explained that, notwithstanding the principles o f the D eclaration o f Independence, in civil society it was necessary to abridge nat­ ural equality for the sake o f the general good. Em ploying an argum ent that w ould be used for generations to justify depriving blacks and wom en o f equal rights, Ross asserted that the public good required their exclusion from voting. Since blacks were usually barred from m ilitia service, Ross claim ed that their disfranchisem ent was fair because, although they paid taxes like everyone else, they were seldom required to share the com m on burden o f de­ fense. In the end, however, these arguments were m erely rationalizations for the racist judgm ent that A frican Am ericans were “a p ecu lia r people, inca­ pable . . . o f exercising that [voting] privilege w ith any sort o f discretion, prudence, or independence____It is not thought adviseable to perm it aliens to vote; neither w ould it be safe to extend it to blacks.” Ross concluded by

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Testing the Meaning asserting erroneously chat in alm ost every western and southern su te an d even Connecticut they were excluded from voting.56 Later on in the debate, the racist core o f the disfranchisem ent movement was displayed when one o f its advocates atucked the notion that the possession o f voting rights cou ld elevate blacks anym ore than “ it w ould elevate a monkey, or a baboon, to a l­ low them to vote!” 57 Som e representatives, however, voiced powerful counterargum ents based on precedent and principle for m aintaining full black citizenship. R obert C larke o f Delaware C ounty pointed out that the U .S. C onstitution appor­ tioned representation and taxes according to the num ber o f “bee persons” w ithout distinction o f color and that the argum ent o f m ilitia exclusion was absurd because, not counting black Revolutionary W ar veterans, as recently as 1814 the N ew York legislature had accepted the services o f “a corps o f 2000 free people o f color.” Clarke adm itted that m any blacks m ay be "incapable o f exercising that right o f suffrage judiciously,” but he and several others noted that the same was true o f m any w hites.58 Abraham Van Vechten o f A lbany stated that the convention could not possibly "prescribe the moral and intellectual qualifications” o f voters and pointed out that "colored peo­ ple” had been citizens for forty years, which was w hy it was necessary for restrictionists to use the expression "w hite citizens.” 59 Correcting committee chairm an John Ross, Van Vechten noted that although Connecticut did in­ troduce racial restrictions in its 1818 constitution, it had refused to withdraw suffrage from the colored citizens w ho already possessed the right to vote.60 O pposition to the racial restriction on voting also came from conserva­ tives such as jurist Jonas Platt, who confessed that i f N ew York had many newly freed blacks, he, too, would w ant to exclude them from voting, but not by this "unjust and odious distinction o f color.” Instead, he w ould estab­ lish restrictions that "w ould not only exclude the great body o f fiee men o f color, but also a large portion o f ignorant and depraved w hite m en, who are as unfit to exercise the power o f voting as the men o f color.”61 T h e point, however, was academic since, as Peter Ja y (the son o f Federalist leader John Jay) pointed out, proportionately the N ew York black population— which was less than 3 percent— was decreasing, and even in N ew York C ity, blacks constituted fewer than 10 percent o f the residents.62 Chancellor Jam es Kent, the states m ost distinguished jurist, added the further argum ent that w ith so m any races represented in and entering the United States, restricting suffrage to "white” persons w ould lead to a hopeless tangle o f controversies over who was and was not "w hite.”63 Ultim ately, it was another judge, Jesse Buel, who asserted the mainstream republican argum ent that universal suffrage was

Tating theMeaning sound policy in N ew York because “the establishm ent o f com m on schools, w ill in a few years extend the benefit o f education to all our citizens.” Republicanism w ould be safe because "the universal diffusion o f inform a­ tion w ill forever distinguish our population from that o f Europe.”64 N otw ithstanding all o f these argum ents, the vote on inserting a racial qualification was alm ost evenly divided— 59 voted in favor and 63 voted against.65 Later on, the convention settled for a provision that removed property restrictions on whites but retained property restrictions on blacks. M artin Van Buren, who voted w ith the m ajority on both measures, justified this com prom ise by pointing out that it linked taxation and representation. Blacks w ould only be taxed when they possessed enough property to qualify to vote.66 Presumably, A frican Am ericans were citizens in any case, regard­ less o f the extent o f their property. T h e struggle over voting— which had been a privilege in the days o f free­ holder qualifications but became a right in the era o f universal m anhood suffrage— led to explicit assertions o f citizenship by African Am ericans in every state where they were free to organize. In N ew York, from the 1820s on­ w ard, blacks attacked the legitim acy o f the new racial restriction in their states constitution, as they did in Pennsylvania, N ew Jersey, Connecticut, and other su tes where legal disabilities were im posed. A s the Reverend Sam uel T. C ornish, editor o f the C o bred A m erican, su ted in an editorial protesting a N ew Jersey law that required every “free negro or m ulatto” to possess freedom papers and carry them w hile tu velin g, such laws were all "unconstitutional.” To his fellow African Am ericans, Cornish declared: "You are citizens o f the Su te, in the strictest sense o f the w ord, and just as much right has your S u te Legislature, to pass an act, requiring every red haired cit­ izen, to carry his freepapers. . . as they have to require your com pliance.”67 T h is kind o f * com plexional standard? the black convention o f Pennsylvania proclaim ed in 1848, was analogous to the religious discrim ination that had been practiced w rongfully in the past against Protestants, Catholics, Q uakers, and Jew s.68 Prejudice was leading m ajorities to circum scribe and even deny A frican Am erican citizenship in m any su tes, but blacks chal­ lenged these policies, repeatedly asserting that their rights were founded in the D ed au tio n o f Independence and that the Constitution "guarantees in letter and spirit to every freeman born in this country, all the rights and im ­ m unities o f citizenship.”69 Blacks should be allowed to vote on the same terms as whites, and whether they were presendy barred from the ballot box or not, A frican Am erican spokesmen argued that as citizens they should be inform ed.

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Testing the Meaning T h e nongovernm ental approaches that free blacks em ployed to achieve an inform ed African Am erican citizenry were much the same as those used by whites— voluntary associations and schools. T h eir efforts to become in­ form ed, which they pursued w ithout m uch help from whites and sometimes in the face o f furious opposition, testify pow erfully to their com m itm ent to the ideology o f inform ed citizenship and their b elief that self-improvement could advance personal and collective goals. Lacking the financial resources and leisure tim e that whites possessed, excluded from public office as a scorned m inority, and so scattered physically that the critical masses neces­ sary for concerted action were scarce am ong the free black population, they nevertheless developed a state convention movement to advocate their polit­ ical agendas. In addition, they form ed secular and church-related cultural im provem ent societies. Although the D avid Daggetts and Roger Taneys o f the legal and political w orld denied their citizenship, free blacks acted like citizens and worked to convince the political system to accept them . State conventions, called interm ittendy by the “colored people” and “peo­ ple o f color” o f nearly all the free states as w ell as the slave state o f Maryland, created public forum s for African Am ericans to express their view s, exchange ideas, and achieve a public hearing. These meetings brought scores o f self-se­ lected delegates together to elect officers, hear addresses, debate policy, ex­ am ine com m ittee reports, and vote on resolutions. Covered extensively in the black press and given attention in some w hite newspapers, they almost always called for the recognition o f free blacks’ rights and for specific state legislative or constitutional measures. T h ey m ight also include statements in support o f abolition as w ell as self-im provem ent and education projects.70 O ne such project, launched by the 1831 Pennsylvania C onvendon o f the People o f Colour, which m et in Philadelphia, called for the creation o f a m anual labor “ College for Colored Youth,” much like those educadon re­ form ers were recom m ending for whites. Proposed for the college town o f N ew H aven, Connecticut, where there was already a concentration o f schol­ ars as well as a “respectable” free black community, the scheme was backed financially by an incentive pledge from A rthur Tappan, the N ew York m erchant and later abolitionist. As planned, the college was intended to prom ote the advancement and integration— econom ic and cultural— o f A frican Am ericans in northern society. But to the surprise o f the colleges ad­ vocates, w ho were led by Jam es Forten, the wealthy patriarch o f Philadelphia’s free black com m unity, the citizens o f N ew H aven found a hundred reasons to oppose the establishm ent o f such a college in their town and passed a set o f resolutions to block the plan. O ne N ew H aven man who

TestingtheMeaning supported the college published an account describing the sentim ents he heard expressed around town: aW eve got niggers enough in this place al­ ready. You get a gang o f negroes here, and you w ould soon find the value o f real estate w ould fall in this place at least twenty-five percent.” Even worse, opponents o f the college claim ed that i f blacks were educated, they w ould "cu t the throats o f our Southern brethren; or if [the black man] should stay am ong us, he w ill soon get to feel him self alm ost equal to whites____D o yo u w ant to have your daughters m arry black husbandsl. . . Right or wrong, I w ant none o f your N igger Colleges about me. Tell about the blacks being born here— this being their native country— o f having the same rights as w hites, and all such contem ptible nonsense! I w ant to hear none o f it. Send them o ff to A frica, their native country, where they belong.”71 Although only a sm all m inority (6 percent) o f N ew Haven’s residents were black, the breadth and nearly hysterical intensity o f the prejudice they encountered in this "enlightened” northern com m unity illustrate the forces arrayed against them . T h ey w ould continue to speak publicly to defend their rights, but m ost o f their organized activities were highly circum spect and directed in­ w ard toward self-im provem ent. A frican Am erican voluntary associations resembled those o f whites. In N ew York C ity, the black Philom athean Society m aintained a library o f over 500 volum es and ran lecture series in the 1830s, including talks on the nat­ ural sciences, history, geography, oratory, logic, and Christianity. W hen the phrenology craze swept the United Su tes in the late 1830s and 1840s, assert­ in g a scientific basis for A frican Am erican inferiority, the black guduate o f the U niversity o f Heidelberg, Jam es M cCune Sm ith, delivered lectures ex­ posing the fallacies o f the phrenological analysis o f skulls and mental attrib? utes. In Philadelphia, A frican Am ericans established a sim ilar organization and an even larger Library for Colored People in the 1830s. In sm aller cities such as Pittsburgh, Buffalo, and Troy, N ew York, black residents form ed "M ental and M oral Im provem ent” societies, which com bined secular and religious reading, discussion, and debate. Even in sm aller com m unities, blacks form ed organizations, usually connected to their churches, to pro­ m ote m oral reform . W omen sometimes participated w ith men in these groups or founded their own "Fem ale” chapters.72 T h e im m ediate personal objectives o f those who participated in these activities varied, but according to A frican Am erican leaders, the larger purpose o f these groups was to de­ velop inform ed, virtuous citizens who were clearly w orthy o f the rights they claim ed. T h is program also carried an abolition message since, by their ac­ tions, free blacks w ould demonstrate the soundness o f em ancipation. T h ey

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Patrick Reason, said to be thefirst African American engraver, made thisfrontispiecefin The Liberty Bell (Boston, 1839), an abolitionist annualgift book. The image conflates American political liberty and the Christian message, “Truth shall make you free. ” At the right, a white girl instructs black children in the alphabet. Courtesy American Antiquarian Society.

w ou ld prove that fu ll citizenship w as the proper alternative to slavery, not colonization in A frica. T h is view poin t w as often part o f the larger p olitical m essage o f the move­ m ent fo r the education o f free blacks, although som e w hite clergym en, phil­ anthropists, educators, and p u b lic o fficials retained the old ch arity school vision o f blacks as a pious and literate race o f servants, laborers, and crafts­ m en. T h e concern that blacks w ere “overreaching” had been one o f the ju stification s fo r opposition to the m anual labor college in N ew H aven as w ell as to Prudence C ran d alls fem ale academ y fo r black girls in another part o f C on n ecticut. M an y feared that educating A frican A m ericans above their station w ou ld have dangerous logical consequences, nam ely, that they would

TestingtheMeaning assert and perhaps achieve equality. Nevertheless, white-supported elemen­ tary education for black children, first under private auspices and later in northeastern public schools, was supplying the sort o f literacy and num eracy that Thom as Jefferson had regarded as essential for citizens. From a white perspective, the subject o f A frican Am erican education was encum bered w ith com plexities. In the first decades o f the nineteenth cen­ tury, charity schools for urban blacks, both conventional and Lancasterian, were seen as desirable for the same reasons they were useful for poor whites: they w ould reduce crim e and pauperism am ong blacks and increase their productivity. But in order to supply teachers, as well as to provide free blacks w ith their own clergym en, more than elem entary education was required. T h e elite white quandary over higher education for blacks was epitom ized b y an 1816 program o f the Presbyterian Synod o f N ew York and N ew Jersey and by the A frican Education Society, a national, colonization-oriented group organized in 1829 in W ashington, D .C . T h e Presbyterians’ A frican School proposal was aim ed at "educating young men o f colour, to be teachers and preachers to people o f colour w ithin these States and elsewhere,” so that “the great negro-world” w ould enjoy "teachers o f their own race.” Furtherm ore, the Presbyterians believed that as Am ericans they bore a special responsibility to aid blacks since "no portion o f the w orld is so deeply indebted to Africa” and "this land o f freedom is the only enlightened land o f slaves.” B y educating black m issionaries, the synod w ould begin to pay back the “ large arrears” the United States owed A frica, and in tim e, A fricans w ould attain "a rank am ong the polished nations o f Europe and A m erica.” T h is overseas m ission, paradoxically, differed entirely from the school’s dom estic mission in the United States. H ere, "only the m ost faithful and discreet” young blacks w ould be assigned to teach their fellow African Am ericans "subordination according to the apostolic exam ple.”73 Although these northern Presbyterians believed that A frican Am ericans were capable o f great achievements and deserved com pensation for the historic wrongs they had endured, those achievements would have to occur on another continent. In the United States, the mission was to prom ote subjection. T h e A frican Education Society, also inspired by "the wrongs and suffer­ ings o f A frica, inflicted by the hands o f Am ericans,” aim ed as well to provide a kind o f recompense "to those whom they have injured.” But this group, w hich was an a d ju n a o f the Am erican Colonization Society and included slaveholders like the M arylander Francis Scott Key o f "Star-Spangled Banner” fam e and the Episcopal bishop o f V irginia in addition to future abolitionists G errit Sm ith and A rthur Tappan, evaded the contradictions o f

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Testingthe Meaning the Presbyterian Synod by concentrating exclusively on preparing "persons o f colour for usefulness in A frica.” T h e projected A frican Education Society boarding school w ould provide training in "Letters, A griculture, and the M echanic A rts,” not religion, so as to "qualify [graduates] for usefulness and influence in A frica.”74 These teachers "destined to Africa” w ould be recruited chiefly b y slave masters who wished to enroll particular slaves in this A frican project "on condition, after their education and liberation, o f their em igrating to A frica.” To assure that these newly educated, newly fice blacks w ould actu­ ally leave the United Su tes, they w ould all be required to make a formal pledge prior to their education and em ancipation “that they w ill go to Africa when their education shall be com pleted.”75 Paradoxically, the objective of this novel scheme was to use A frican Am ericans to create an inform ed citi­ zenry in A frica w hile sim ultaneously blocking the developm ent o f an in­ form ed African Am erican citizenry in the United Su tes. T h is fantastic proposal never reached fruition, com ing as it did on the eve o f N at Turners slave rebellion and the publication o f W illiam Lloyd G arrisons im m ediate abolition newspaper, The Liberator. But the fact that such a project could have won the serious support o f leading w hite men o f goodw ill is an indication o f the confusion that confounded Am ericans when they attem pted to reconcile their system o f racial slavery w ith enlightened notions o f an educated, progressive citizenry. As became evident in the gen­ eration culm inating in the Suprem e C ourt’s 1857 D red Scott decision, the operators o f the slave system sim ply could not tolerate the idea that African Am ericans— form er slaves and their descendants— could be fo lly enfran­ chised, engaged citizens. T h is kind o f African Am erican empowerment threatened slavery explicitly by m aking it possible for black reform ers to agiu te for abolition, w hile underm ining it theoretically by giving black re­ form ers the opportunity to dem onstrate in their persons the faulty precepts on which the slave system rested. In the 1840s and 1850s, when African Am ericans gained access to tax-sup­ ported public schools in states from Massachusetts to M ichigan— partly as a result o f demands by their su te conventions— they proclaim ed that they w ould be included in Am ericas inform ed citizenry.7* "L et us,” the M ichigan convention resolved in late 1843, "lay the corner stone w ith a m utual desire for the general diffusion o f knowledge, based on the principles o f Human Liberty and Equal Rights.” W edding the cause o f equality to that o f being inform ed, the convention proclaim ed that “we w ill increase our individual happiness and prosperity, by im proving the minds o f our people, and elevat-

Testing the Meaning in g the standard o f Liberty, raise ourselves up and take our stand w ith the w ell inform ed.” M ichigan A frican Am ericans w ould make themselves “the true Liberty and the Free-Knowledge-Dispensing Party.”77 T h is impas­ sioned embrace o f mainstream republican ideology made it difficult for northern whites to dism iss free black citizenship. But the idea o f slave citizenship, inform ed or not, was easy for whites to reject. It seemed self-contradictory on the surface, an oxym oron because his­ torically being a free man was a defining characteristic o f being a citizen. M oreover, for generations, historians have emphasized the proscriptions that southern states enacted to forbid slave literacy. T h eir research demonstrates that a policy based on law and custom linked denial o f citizenship w ith de­ nial o f literacy in all o f the slave states. But this reality, w hile dom inant, was not as com plete or as m onolithic as some have supposed. N o less a public figure than John Q uincy Adam s, one o f the nation’s m ost learned advocates, declared in the U .S. Congress that slaves possessed the right to petition: “N o despot, o f any age or clim e, has ever denied this hum ble privilege to the poorest or meanest o f hum an creatures.. . . It is a right that cannot be de­ nied to the hum blest, to the m ost wretched.” True, the House o f Represen­ tatives rejected Adams’s view by voting to deny slaves the right to petition, but this was the same legislative body whose “gag rule” also denied this right to all other Am ericans, even though the First Am endm ent to the Constitu­ tion explicidy enjoined Congress from abridging “the right o f the p eo p le. . . to petition the governm ent.”78 If, as Adam s believed, slaves possessed the right to petition in com m on w ith citizens, and if, like citizens, they were also born in the United States, then arguably they had some claim , however frail, to Am erican citizenship. C ertain ly no one contended that they were aliens, like im m igrants and N arive Am ericans. T h ey were, it is true, always subject to the w ill o f their masters and to corporal punishm ent at their hands, but so were cirizens who were m inors or wives. There was no need to address the issue o f slave citi­ zenship frilly, given the ruling consensus prior to 1865, which relied on the le­ gal fiction that slaves were chattels. But in a society where principles o f natural equality m ingled w ith the Christian b elief in the equality o f all peo­ ple before G od, and in a legal system where fathers norm ally passed along their citizenship to their offspring, the total exclusion o f slaves from citizen­ ship possessed some disquieting elements. Yet because the security o f their social and econom ic order rested on the slave system , southerners generally refused to acknowledge the contradic­ tions it posed. Like W illiam Harper, they preferred to think o f their system

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Testingthe Meaning as a superior form o f classical republicanism . Still, in the m inds o f devout masters, the actual practices o f some o f their peers were w orrisom e. The problem was that sacrilegious, greedy masters, sometimes fearful o f slave re­ bellion, were failing in their duty to provide their slaves w ith C hristian in­ struction. To masters like the Reverend Charles C olcock Jones o f Liberty County, G eorgia, this om ission constituted a grave southern problem .79 C ertainly those masters who shared Jones’s views did not w ant slaves to be­ come inform ed citizens, but privately and publicly they com m itted them­ selves to m aking enslaved African Am ericans inform ed Christians. For Protestants, especially Presbyterians, who relied heavily on sermons and Bible study, it was hard to reconcile the needs o f dom estic security with the desire to prom ote Christian education. A fter D avid W alker published his 1829 appeal “to the coloured citizens o f the w o rld ,. . . in particular, and very expressly, to those o f the United States o f Am erica,” which called for a revolution against slavery and was soon follow ed in 1831 by a rebellion led by the lay preacher N at Turner, security concerns were param ount. In North C arolina, where a num ber o f earlier attempts to prohibit slave literacy had failed, one as recendy as 1827, the 1830 legislature reacted to W alker’s appeal by passing a literacy ban perm itting only “the use o f figures.” T h eir reason­ ing was clear: “Teaching slaves to read and w rite; thereby affording them fa­ cilities o f intelligence and com m unication, [is] inconsistent w ith their condition, destructive o f their contentm ent and happiness, and dangerous to the com m unity.”80 In this legislation, the need for Christian education was brushed aside because the m ajority decided, even before the Turner up­ rising, that “the teaching o f slaves to read and w rite has a tendency to excite dissatisfaction in their minds and to produce insurrection and rebellion.”81 T h e fact that after the repression o f the Turner rebels some N orth Carolina slaves continued to challenge the system by “exercising the privilege o f freemen” made the legislation im perative.82 But even under the threat o f potential rebellion, some N orth Carolina delegates, about a third o f the members o f each house, saw the duties o f Christian masters as sacred. Before the passage o f the 1830 law, they worked to lim it the ban to w riting so that it w ould still be legal to teach slaves to read the Bible, and for several years afterward, some delegates m ounted repeal efforts. T he law stood in N orth Carolina, however, and the pattern was much the same elsewhere. Yet even in South Carolina, where fears o f insur­ rection led to the passage o f the m ost com prehensive antiliteracy legislation anywhere, substantial evidence exists that the laws were openly evaded by masters who believed that good Christians made good slaves.83

Testing the M eaning

The legitimacy andpracticality o fAfrican American literacy are suggested in this Arthur Anderson woodcut. Here a white clergyman or master hears a black child read lessons. From Publications o f the American Tract Society, vol. i, ser.

(New York, [1827—}}]).

Courtesy American Antiquarian Society.

In 1842 a group o f A bbeville, South C arolin a, Presbyterians w ent so far as to petition fo r the repeal o f the antiliteracy laws on the grounds that they in ­ h ibited proper religious instruction and thereby violated South C arolina’s provision s fo r religious freedom . “ H ow ,” they dem anded to know , “can an ign oran t m an, such as our servants are, be prepared fo r the Eternal state b y hearing a serm on or a lecture once a w eek, m uch o f w hich they do not un­ derstand?” Because oral instruction w as inadequate, they claim ed, the ser­ vants should be taught “to read w ith so m uch fluency and correctness, that th ey w ill be able to peruse the w ord o f G o d and other religious books w ith pleasure and p rofit to their souls.” F u lfillin g this sacred du ty to people “fo r w hom C h rist died” w as a m atter o f conscience. “ O ne o f the ch ie f privileges and enjoym ents o f our religious profession and w orship,” they testified, w as “to search the scriptures fo r ourselves” ; consequently, “that law w hich robs our servants o f this enjoym ent” w as in open “violation o f the C on stitu ­ tio n .” 84 A ccord ing to this singular but fu tile argum ent, the constitutional

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Testingthe Meaning rights o f a citizen extended to his slave, so that an infringem ent on a slaves religious liberty was also an encroachment on that o f the master. Such a di­ re a religious challenge to the antiliteracy laws was exceptional, but the ten­ sion between such laws and religious instruction could never be w holly eased and inevitably led to lapses in their enforcem ent.85 T h e ongoing com m itm ent to prom oting inform ed C hristian slaves was m anifest in the proceedings o f a m ultidenom inational m eeting held in Charleston in 1845 on uthe Religious Instruction o f the N egroes.” T h e pur­ pose o f the gathering was to exchange inform ation on methods o f instruc­ tion and to publicize the “g ratifyin g . . . effects o f the religious instruction o f negroes, upon labour, and upon d iscip lin e.” *6 Moreover, the m eeting made clear that m ost religious training was being carried out entirely w ithin the boundaries o f the antiliteracy laws through oral instruction and memoriza­ tion. But am ong the sixty-three letters from South Carolina, G eorgia, and eight other slave states that were presented to the public, a num ber spoke fa­ vorably o f slaves who could read. Several South C arolina masters seemed proud to announce that they used literate slaves to teach slave children the catechism, and one master reported that a slave read uthe appointed service o f our church” on Sundays during the summer.87 A Presbyterian, Joh n Blair o f York, South C arolina, reported that in his d istria , some slaves had “re­ ceived in stru aio n in reading and religious training from their masters and mistresses” and were “so w ell qualified as to keep up fam ily w orship.” These slaves, Blair wrote, displayed “su rp risin g. . . fervency and intelligence.”88 T h is subversive theme o f black intellectual capacity emerged in a num ber o f reports. A Georgetown, South Carolina, master com m ented that “the degree o f intelligence w hich, as a class, they are acquiring, is w orthy o f deep consid­ eration.”89 Conceivably, they m ight become w orthy o f citizenship in time. M ost remarkable o f all was inform ation on a black Alabam a Presbyterian w ho could read Greek and Latin and was attem pting to learn Hebrew. The synods o f Alabam a and M ississippi, it was reported, were proposing to pur­ chase this man from his owner in order to send him to A frica as a missionary, a plan that recalled the stillborn scheme o f the A frican Education Society.90 In all o f these discussions, however, legislators and masters argued over means, not ends; they all agreed that slave subjection m ust be maintained. Therefore, whatever education slaves or free blacks who lived in slave states m ight be allowed, as in the old English charity schools, its fu n a io n was to prom ote obedience. Being a good Christian was all very w ell, but political empowerm ent o f any description was unthinkable. N o m atter w hat logical arguments Yankee fanatics m ight invent, slaves m ust not under any circum-

Testingthe Meaning stances be citizens. Nevertheless, the steel barrier to their recognition as citi­ zens showed tiny cracks. Already some northern states had created the prece­ dent o f em ancipating slaves w ithout com pensation to owners, later adm itting them to full enfranchisem ent as inform ed citizens. Generally, free blacks in the N orth were claim ing citizenship based on principles em bodied in the D eclaration o f Independence and the C onstitution, w hile in the South, free blacks enjoyed some protections and some slave masters were ac­ tually em powering thousands o f their slaves through literacy.91 These A frican Am ericans were alm ost all bom in the United States and thus, by recognized international standards as well as the nations own law, enjoyed som e claim to citizenship. T h e barrier against A frican Am erican citizenship held firm in the 1850s, but the foundation for post-1865 citizenship and en­ franchisem ent had been laid over preceding decades. T h e role o f wom en in the fulfillm ent o f the idea o f an inform ed citizenry contrasted starkly w ith that o f A frican Am ericans in im portant respects, but there were also notable sim ilarities. Although the inclusion o f wom en in the m ainstream notion o f an inform ed citizenry was generally acknowledged and possessed a genealogy stretching back at least as far as Jefferson's B ill for a M ore General D iffusion o f Knowledge, as w ith blacks, inclusion was prob­ lem atic. Like A frican Am erican men, wom en were seldom freeholders. W hen freehold barriers fell, wom en were more uniform ly excluded from electoral politics than black men. D espite the fact that white wom en were generally m ore educated than black m en, they were w idely adm onished to confine their knowledge prim arily to dom estic matters and to shun engage­ m ent in public affairs entirely. Consequendy, even though no one ques­ tioned the reality o f white w om ens citizenship, according to mainstream prescriptions, they should be inform ed only to prom ote m orality, dom estic econom y, and their own and their fam ilies’ personal fulfillm ent— not in or­ der to preserve liberty or to ensure sound public policy directly. Like African Am ericans, however, wom en challenged the restrictions that custom , law, and social prescription placed on their citizenship. Beginning w ith the politics o f the temperance and abolition movements, and m oving on to agitation for the recognition o f m arried women’s rights and the right o f wom en to vote, wom en and some male allies subverted the concept o f sepa­ rate spheres in order to redefine women’s place in the idea o f an inform ed cit­ izenry. T h e fita that some o f the opponents o f the full realization o f women’s citizenship professed to be women’s truest friends, claim ing that wom en were m eant for higher, purer responsibilities than public affairs, gave the

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This image depicts an antislavery meeting held on the Boston Common in April 1851 to protest the capture o f escaped stave Thomas Sims. The main speaker, Wendell Phillips, addresses an audience o f both black and white men and women, notablefor its inclusive representation o f citizenship. From Gleasons Pictorial Drawing Room Companion, May i, 1851. Courtesy American Antiquarian Society

controversy a peculiar caste. U nable to rely on crass racism o r old-fashioned elitism to ju stify their view s— as was com m on am ong the enem ies o f A frican A m erican citizenship— opponents o f h ill citizenship rights fo r wom en tended to em ploy contorted, even fan cifu l argum ents based on cultural pre­ conceptions about sex and gender. T h e conventional starting p oin t fo r the consideration o f w om en s citizen­ ship w as the legal and political position that w om en w ere, like children , de­ pendent citizens w ho d id not control property or possess independent voices. To the degree that they should be inform ed citizens, and the reform ers o f the early republic had proclaim ed that goal, it w as so that they cou ld influence positively their sons and husbands— the

citizens. T h e idealized repub­

lican w ife and m other w ou ld train m en in virtu e and civic consciousness w hile rem aining a lo o f from the p u b lic realm .92 T h e bizarre con tradiction im­ p licit in the idea that dependent w om en w ou ld teach m en to be independent was overlaid w ith m antras to fem ale virtue and self-sacrifice.

Testing the M eaning

SCENE AT TOE UEVERK 1I0 USE.

This illustration o f a receptionfor Daniel Websterportrays the dominant view o f citizen­ ship andpolitical engagement. White men surround Webster, while white women look on from the windows above. Among the crowd o f ground-level spectators, only three are women, and they areplaced at theperiphery From Gleason s Pictorial Drawing Room Com panion, May 17,1851. Courtesy American Antiquarian Society Ju stification s fo r con fin in g w om en to the status o f subordinate citizen­ sh ip rested on a doctrine o f separate spheres that paralleled the old M andevillean idea that it w as necessary to keep the laborin g classes ignorant. Because G o d and nature intended w om en fo r m aternal and dom estic duties, according to this view , the “fair sex” m ust not be ruined, ju st as laborers shou ld not be spoiled, by an education that w ou ld m ake them discontented w ith their lo t or encourage them to seek other roles in life. U nlike M an d evilles laborers, however, w om ens sphere was described in lo fty rather than base term s. N o praise, no flattery, seem ed too extravagant. MD id Jesus C h rist ever desire to be civil governor o f Ju d ea, or seek fo r any form o f p olit­ ical preferm ent,” the Yankee reform er H orace M ann asked. To w om en, he said, belonged “the em pire o f H om e, that m ost im portant o f em pires, and the parent o f all em pires and em perors.”93 I f they fu lfilled their proper roles,

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Testingthe Meaning M ann im plied, women could be at once like Jesus and Alexander the Great. O n the other hand, “the idea o f our wives and sisters m ingling promiscu­ ously w ith men in the varied affairs o f life, industrial, social and political,” was nothing short o f revolting, and proposals advocating their suffrage, officeholding, and ju ry duty were “grotesque and unwom anly.”94 Women were extolled as “divinely-adapted” for “regenerating the w orld,” but they m ust do it as wives, m others, and schoolteachers. “ Those w ho hold conven­ tions, and shout from public rostrum s, under the banner o f ‘Womans Rights,’” M ann announced, “ have unsexed themselves.”95 Beliefs like these, which presumed a kind o f cultural and political specialized division o f labor, were prevalent in all regions o f the nation. Inform ing women in religious and dom estic affairs, which were contrasted w ith the vanities o f fashion, par­ ties, and novel reading, was desirable, but no value was assigned to womens training in political econom y and history, the fields that w ould have in­ form ed wom en as citizens. T h e friends o f wom ens full enfranchisem ent justified their position with three closely related arguments based on notions o f self-realization, natural rights, and established principles o f Am erican law. A s the national W omens Rights Convention o f 1853 resolved: “ Every hum an being, w ithout distinc­ tion o f sex, has an inviolable right to the full developm ent and free exercise o f all energies.”96 Like men, Frederick Douglass later asserted, wom en had their “own individuality, not only in form and features, but in thought and feeling.” W omen m ust have their own political voices, he said, so that their “citizenship w ould be full and com plete.”97 A lso, “ if a m inister can preach politics because he is a citizen” w ithout risking his reputation for virtue and piety, W endell Phillips pointed out, a wom an “can m eddle in politics and vote, because she is a citizen too.”98 W hatever rights and principles applied to men’s citizenship m ust apply to women’s citizenship as w ell. Insofar as being virtuous and inform ed were criteria for enfranchisement, as republican theory had once demanded, some reformers argued that wom en were more qualified than masses o f men. A t Seneca Falls in 1848, Elizabeth C ady Stanton com plained that “to have drunkards, idiots, horseracing, rum selling rowdies, ignorant foreigners and silly boys fu lly recog­ nized, w hile we ourselves are thrust out from all the rights that belong to citizens, it is too grossly insulting to the dignity o f w om an.”99 Five years later, at the Women’s Rights Convention held in Cleveland, W illiam Lloyd G arrison presented a resolution that echoed Stanton’s pronouncem ent: “So long as the m ost ignorant, degraded and worthless men are freely admitted to the b allot-b ox,. . . it is preposterous to pretend that wom en are not qual-

listing the Meaning ified to use the elective franchise.”100 W hereas social snobbery worked against African Am ericans, lending legitim acy to the denial o f their rights, it w orked to advance women’s cause. Snobbery helped to underm ine the legit­ im acy o f male privilege. N othing "can be more galling to an intelligent and highly educated Am erican lady,” a school reform journal noted, "than the fret that no qualification o f birth, age, wealth or education can entide her to the privilege, which her servant, w ithout any o f these claim s, m ay freely en­ joy.”101 Even i f a wom an was w ell inform ed and virtuous and owned exten­ sive property that w ould have warranted a stake in representation, she was shut out. W hat leaders in the women’s movement sought to articulate was their recognition that egalitarian dem ocracy had long since overwhelm ed republi­ can notions o f a virtuous and inform ed citizenry. Like the em peror in the fa­ ble, the Am erican citizen was not clothed in garments o f virtue and inform adon ; he was naked after all. Educadon reformers continued to fight to give substance to the m yth o f an inform ed, virtuous citizenry, but in reality, the old standards o f enfranchisem ent were obsolete. Consequendy, the exclusion ofw om en was based even more purely on notions o f male suprem acy than the exclusion o f blacks was based on white supremacy. B y the 1850s and 1860s, the barrier to male A frican Am erican suffrage had been breached in m ore than h a lf a dozen northern states, but the exclusion o f wom en was com plete. T he events o f the decade follow ing the end o f the C ivil War would further under­ m ine the legitim acy o f racial discrim ination, w hile public policy w ould leave intact, perhaps even fortify, gender-based discrim ination. * D uring the third quarter o f the nineteenth century, the idea o f an in­ form ed citizenry, already a fixture in public rhetoric, shifted further away from its revolutionary era legacy. N ow the b elief that people should be in­ form ed for the sake o f personal fulfillm ent and their own econom ic oppor­ tunity took precedence over the public’s interest in an inform ed citizenry. Although advocates o f public education continued to assert a com bination o f private and public benefits, the old idea that citizens m ust be virtuous and inform ed because they were voters had been underm ined. Since politics had extended voting rights to nearly every w hite male citizen whether he was ed­ ucated or not, it was only too evident that m any voters, perhaps m ost, were neither virtuous nor inform ed. T h is realization led some to oppose universal suffrage entirely in the p o st-C ivil W ar era, for men as w ell as wom en. T h e idea o f literacy tests, w hich was linked to the inform ed citizenry idea, acquired legitim acy, to-

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Testing the Meaning gether w ith other voting restrictions that could be used to exclude the poor and uneducated o f both races.101 According to the Yankee evangelist Horace Bushnell, “our lathers o f the Am erican Revolution” themselves had erred in attaching their movement to what the jurist Rufus Choate disdainfully called "the glittering generalities” o f "life, liberty, and the pursuit o f happi­ ness.” T h e founding fathers had been led astray by none other than John Locke, who, although possessing a "really great m ind,” had him self been taken in by the "infection” o f free thinking "w ithout being duly aware o f the sophistry and dangerous falsity covered up under these pretentious guises.” Bushnell rejected the D eclaration o f Independences general m axim that "governm ents . . . derive their just powers from the consent o f the gov­ erned,” just as he contested the doctrine that men and wom en possessed a natural right to the franchise. I f this were true, Bushnell reasoned, then be­ fore 1776 no governm ent in world history had ever been legitim ate. This Connecticut clergym an was "shocked by the nonsense o f our assum ption” o f the superior legitim acy o f dem ocratic governm ent. T h e true tests for whether one should possess the full rights o f citizenship were "considerations o f benefit” and especially "the public good.” 103 Although men like Bushnell had no real hope that they could roll back the tide o f universal manhood suffrage in the United States, they did hope to arrest its progress at the boundary o f sex. It was, they believed, bad enough that ignorant and irre­ sponsible men voted; if they were joined by wom en, then all was lost in both the public and private dom ains. T h eir boundary held in the 1860s and beyond. T h e m ajority o f voters in states where the issue o f wom ens suffrage was presented, Congress, and the Suprem e C ourt defeated the m ovement toward wom ens enfranchisement. In the course o f this struggle over wom ens and A frican Am ericans’ voting rights, the idea o f an inform ed citizenry was pushed out o f the mainstream o f electoral politics into the arena o f cultural politics. T h e inform ed citizen as voter, an ideal that Congressm an H enry W ise had sought to realize in the 1840s, now appeared to be not much m ore than a rhetorical ideal. Jacksonian Dem ocrats had long since winked at the principle in building their m ajori­ ties, and even earlier the old Federalist Abraham Van Vechten had recog­ nized that it was im possible to "prescribe the m oral and intellectual qualifications” o f voters.104 In the 1860s, the Republicans, hoping to estab­ lish their longevity as a national party by gaining black voters, follow ed suit. Frederick Douglass expressed his perceptions o f the new reality in an 1863 speech in Brooklyn, N ew York:

Testing theMeaning I, m yself, once had some high notions about this body politic and its high requirem ents, and o f the kind o f men fit to enter it and share its privi­ leges. But a days experience at the polls convinced me that the “ body politic” . . . is a very m ixed affair. I saw ignorance enter, unable to read the vote it cast. I saw the convicted swindler enter and deposit his vote. I saw the gambler, the horse jockey, the pugilist, the miserable drunkard just lifted from the gutter, covered w ith filth, enter and deposit his vote. I saw Pat, fresh from the Em erald Isle, requiring two sober men to keep him on his legs, enter and deposit his vote for the D em ocratic candidate am id the loud hurrahs o f his fellow-citizens. T h e sight o f these things w ent fiu to moderate m y ideas about the exalted character o f what is called the body politic, and convinced me that it could not suffer in its com position even if it should adm it a few sober, industrious and intelli­ gent colored voters.105 D ouglass stated explicidy that the standard o f inform ed citizenship no longer applied to voting. W ho was included and who was kept out was a m atter o f politics m ore than principle. A s the struggle to enfranchise blacks and wom en came to a clim ax, the ir­ relevance o f being inform ed was m anifested repeatedly in the arguments o f reform ers and the actions o f a wide range o f organizations and officials. In N ew York in 1837, Judge Thom as H erttell had pointed to the state’s constitu­ tional guarantee that Mno member o f this state shall be disfranchised or de­ prived o f any o f the rights and privileges secured to any citizen thereof, unless by the law o f the land, or the judgem ent o f his peers.”106 Surely wom en were "m em bers o f this state,” as were free, New-York-born A frican Am erican tax­ payers, yet they were arbitrarily denied the full "rights and privileges” o f citi­ zens. In 1838 John Q uincy Adam s, speaking in Congress, suggested that as citizens, wom en possessed not only the right to petition— a right shared by slaves— but also the right to vote.107 T h e irrelevance o f being inform ed was m ade explicit by the Connecticut senate in 1839 when it sim ultaneously re­ jected both an English literacy requirem ent for voters and the extension o f suffrage to "colored m en.”108 Ultim ately, the requirements for representation were not residence or place o f birth, not property or paying taxes, and not be­ ing virtuous or being inform ed; the fundam ental requisite was to be w hite and m ale. Som e reformers still du n g to the old frith , such as the antislavery convention that resolved in i860 "that the great w ant o f our co u n try. . . is a N ational Political Education Society, whose object shall be to educate the people, the rulers o f the country, in a thorough knowledge o f the fondam en-

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Testing the Meaning tal principles o f dem ocratic governm ent.”109 But by the era o f the C ivil War, such appeals had a quaint, even unworldly ring. T h e advances toward h ill citizenship that African Am ericans m ade rested on partisan, if principled, political decisions. In 1861, for exam ple, the new Republican secretary o f state, W illiam Seward, issued a passport to the re­ form er H enry H ighland G arnet, thereby ruling that “a black m an, o f un­ adulterated negro blood, is declared before the civilized w orld to be entided to the protection o f the Governm ent, as a citizen.”110 A year later, Lincoln’s attorney general w ould carry the process o f erasing the D red Scott decision a step further w ith his decree that every free person bom in the U nited States was, regardless o f race, “at the moment o f birth prim a fa c ie a citizen.” A t the same tim e, however, in a decision that affected blacks and wom en equally, the attorney general ruled that the possession o f citizenship was not neces­ sarily connected to “the legal capacity to hold office and the right o f suffrage.” 111 In the next several years, however, the paths to black and female enfranchisem ent— theoretically so sim ilar and cham pioned for years by m any o f the same reformers— w ould diverge. N ot principle but politics, Republican electoral politics, supplied the explanation.112 A s the Confederacy collapsed and the realization o f em ancipation became apparent in 1865, abolitionists calculated that i f black suffrage could be achieved at all, it w ould only succeed through Republican support. Al­ though many, such as Frederick Douglass, A bby Kelley Foster, Wendell Phillips, and Lucy Stone, w ould have liked to w in full rights for wom en im­ mediately, they agreed w ith Lincoln that one war at a tim e was enough. As Phillips put it when faced w ith the choice between fighting for both causes sim ultaneously or concentrating on A frican Am ericans, “this hour belongs to the negro.”" 3 T hus, although an Am erican Equal Rights Association was form ed in 1866 to advocate both black and w om ens suffrage, as events un­ folded in the crucial year o f 1867, it was clear that the two causes were weaker politically when joined than when they stood alone. Both causes were viewed as radical, but whereas granting blacks the right to vote touched only the public sphere and had been tested for decades in some states, to contem­ poraries the extension o f the same rights to wom en suggested a revolution in gender relations that would reach into every fam ily, every region, every class, and every occupation. T h e differences between the two causes and their partisan im plications were evident in the measures o f the Radical Republican Congress, which voted in 1867 to enfranchise black men in the D istrict o f C olum bia and the U .S. territories and to require the form er Confederate states to include black

TestingtheMeaning suffrage in their Reconstruction constitutions. In this case, the Republican Congress, which overrode a presidential veto in order to create black voters in the old Confederacy, was m uch more reform ist than the nation at large.“ 4 In the same year, Kansas voters turned down black suffrage in a referendum b y an overwhelm ing m ajority, and in O hio and Pennsylvania, the reform w as also defeated. A frican Am ericans realized advances only in Iowa, where Republican voters led in ending discrim ination at the polls in 1868, and in N ew York, where the Republican-dom inated state constitutional conven­ tion voted (125 to 19) to abolish the discrim inatory property requirement its predecessors had created in i8 2 i.II$ T h e cause o f wom en s suffrage was even more controversial, and with only tepid support from some Republicans, the reform failed. W hen female en­ franchisem ent was placed on the ballot alongside black m ens suffrage in Kansas, it was defeated by an even w ider m argin than black voting.“ 6 In the N ew York constitutional convention, the wom ens “suffragist” and Republi­ can reform er Horace Greeley had urged equal voting rights fe r blacks but re­ fused to “recommend an extension o f the elective franchise to w om en.” A lthough Greeley said he favored wom ens right to vote “in theory, we are satisfied that public sentim ent does not demand and w ould not sustain an innovation so revolutionary and sweeping, so openly at w ar w ith a distribu­ tion o f duties and functions between the sexes . . . and involving transfor­ m ations so radical in social and dom estic life.”“ 7 Greeley’s assessment o f public opinion in 1867 was sustained the follow ing year by the D em ocratic Party, whose national convention, notwithstanding its egalitarian rhetoric, rejected the wom an suffrage m ovement, as did the N ational Labor Congress, a union o f skilled white w orkingm en.“ 8 T h e cam paign for women’s voting rights, now led prim arily by Elizabeth C ady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony, w as somewhat isolated politically and thus was being pushed toward the m argin o f public life. T h e fe a that after the break w ith their old abolitionist collaborators Stanton and A nthony allied themselves w ith George E Train, a flam boyant racist demagogue, cast a retrograde shadow over the movem ent.“ 9 Indeed, b y 1869 Stanton and A nthony were opposing passage o f the Fifteenth Am endm ent because, though it w ould forbid racial discrim ination in vot­ ing, it w ould leave sex-based discrim ination in ta a . Stanton was reported to have said that “she did not believe in allowing ignorant negroes and ignorant and debased Chinam en to make laws for her to obey.” 120 T h is racist, xeno­ phobic invocation o f the idea o f a virtuous and inform ed citizenry, however, lacked legislative m uscle. W hen the Fifteenth Am endm ent was adopted in

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Testing the M eaning

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Testing the M eaning

193

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African American voter at the left and voters who appear to be Irish and German (ac­ cording to contemporary stereotypes) in the center. Courtesy American Antiquarian Society. 18 7 0 , declaring that “the right o f citizens . . . to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the U nited States or by any State on account o f race, color, or previous con dition o f servitu de,” it seem ed to com plete the m ovem ent fo r universal suffrage— fo r m en.121 A few years later, w hen, in separate cases, Susan B . A n th on y and V irgin ia M in o r both challenged the doctrine o f fem ale exclusion w ith the argum ent that vo tin g w as a right o f citizenship and thus was protected con stitu tionally fo r w om en as w ell as m en, they w ere defeated in court judgm ents. V irgin ia M in o rs case w ent all the w ay to the Suprem e C o u rt, w hich ruled narrow ly in 1875 “that the C on stitu tion o f the U nited States does not confer the right o f suffrage upon an y one” ; rather, it specifically prohibited racial barriers only. B y this judgm ent, the court left the w ay open fo r the use o f other bar­ riers— such as sex and class, as w ell as the surrogates fo r race used by postR econstruction southern states like literacy tests, grandfather clauses, p oll

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li This illustration o f African Americans voting in the South under the U.S. Reconstruction laws countered the numerous hostile and satirical imagespublished by opponents o f black enfranchisement. Appearing in Harper s Weekly on November 16,1867, it represents the Republican argumentfor the Fifteenth Amendment as expressed by the editors: “ good sense and discretion, and above all the modesty, whichfteedmen have displayed have been most noticeable. ” Courtesy American Antiquarian Society

TestingtheMeaning taxes, and white prim aries.122 As the years went on, it became evident that the abolitionists had been tactically correct to separate the two causes since neither one could com m and m ajority support am ong an alm ost exclusively w hite male electorate. T h e defeat o f women’s suffrage in the 1870s made it clear that citizenship, w hich belonged to wom en, and suffrage, which did not, w ould rem ain sep­ arate and distinct— as the Suprem e C ourt had ruled. T h e connection be­ tween being inform ed and being empowered, which workingm en, African Am ericans, and wom en had all invoked, was severed. Consequendy, the old R adical W hig and republican idea o f the inform ed citizen had become a po­ litical anomaly. T h e belief that voters should be expected to recognize the ad­ vancing steps o f tyrants and demagogues and use their ballots to defend liberty seemed archaic. O rators and reformers continued to em ploy the rhetoric o f an inform ed citizenry, but what they meant was an educated pop­ ulation— skilled, disciplined, productive, and culdvated. Universal educa­ tion, which was good for individuals and for society as a whole, need not m ean universal suffrage. In tim e, o f course, the idea that wom en should be totally excluded from the political sphere collapsed. W hen they were included in higher education, in the professions o f law and m edicine, and in a variety o f workplaces, the doctrine o f separate spheres faded. First, individual states extended full property rights to wom en, and then, as w ith A frican Am ericans earlier, par­ ticular states acted to enfranchise them .123 As a result, by 1920, when the N ineteenth Am endm ent, which follow ed the language o f the Fifteenth Am endm ent, declared that “the right o f citizen s. . . to vote shall not be de­ nied or ab ridged. . . on account o f sex,” it rested on a broad base o f national political support as w ell as widespread institutional practice.124 Voting, after all, was not only am ong the great emblems o f public standing, it was also, as one scholar explains, a sym bolic “affirm ation o f belonging.” 125 Hence­ forw ard, unlike the Fifteenth Am endm ent, no powerful constituencies w ould seek ways to circum vent wom en s suffrage at the state level. T he ques­ tion o f whether wom en were inform ed w ould be pursued by such organiza­ tions as the League o f W omen Voters, but as far as public policy was concerned, as w ith other citizens, whether they were inform ed or not was their own private business.

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YLpilogue \

Looking Backward v T h e

Idea o f an Informed Citizenry at the End o f the Twentieth Century I f history has lessons to teach us today, what can we learn from studying the idea o f an inform ed citizenry in the past? For an academ ic historian accus­ tom ed to drawing conclusions about the past from its docum ents, rather than reflecting upon contem porary society, this is a challenging question. To answer it demands a measure o f speculation that is norm ally off-lim its. The expression o f opinion, after all, is not what historians regard as scholarship. But since the idea o f an inform ed citizenry is a theme o f considerable ur­ gency in contem porary political, educational, and cultural debates, some historically inform ed com m entary is appropriate. Journalists, critics, and re­ form ers who assess today s schools and colleges w ithin a m atrix o f cultural politics m ight even find a historians perspective helpful. A t the least, they w ill find precedents for their arguments in the historical record. Few com m entators in our own tim e express an optim istic view regarding the Am erican citizenry’s present level o f inform ation. Headlines cry out pe­ riodically that tens o f m illions o f adults are functionally illiterate and cannot solve basic arithm etic problem s.1 I f anything, youth are seen in an even more negative light, and schools are faulted for turning out a generation so igno­ rant as to make the United States “A N ation at R isk.” 2 W hen m any voters cannot name their U .S. senators and congressmen, let alone their state and local representatives, and cannot locate sites o f international conflict and cri­ sis on a map, it is hard to summ on optim ism .3 O ne despairing N ew York Tim es com m entator tided his colum n “A N ation o f N itw its.”4 Paradoxically, in spite o f the vast array o f educational institutions, public and private, that reach from preschool to postgraduate training, and notw ithstanding the m yriad inform ation possibilities o f electronic and printed m edia, today no voices are raised to proclaim the present era as the golden age o f an inform ed citizenry in Am erica. Indeed, w hile some observers anticipate a future golden age o f inform adon, a tim e when com puter networks w ill link everyone and everything, 196

others look back to the 1950s or even to the nineteenth century as periods

Epilogue when Am ericans were com paratively w ell inform ed because they read news­ papers and books and paid closer attention to political contests than they do today. A t colleges and universities, it is said, grade inflation and the loss o f the core curriculum in the history and culture o f the Western w orld has led to dangerously low levels o f knowledge o f fundam ental principles. In high schools, where aptitude and achievem ent scores have been declining in read­ in g, geography, and history, the threat o f "cultural illiteracy” am ong ignorant masses o f Am erican citizens seems especially critical.5 M any public schools, particularly, have been assigned failing grades. M ost observers seeking a rem edy for this apparent crisis o f an inform ed citizenry agree that im proved, publicly supported schooling is essential. But they disagree on how this schooling is to be im proved. M any in the educa­ tion establishm ent recommend that more teaching specialists and support­ in g personnel as well as more buildings and equipm ent be supplied. Taxpayer groups reject this approach and argue that private management and com pe­ tition w ould make schools more efficient w hile enabling parents and chil­ dren to weed out the weakest schools. Tuition vouchers, some argue, should be used to put public, private, and parochial schools into direct com petition. Significant conflict also exists over the diagnosis o f the problem s o f pub­ lic education and the ways that faulty schools w ill incapacitate the (unin­ form ed) citizenry o f the future. Alm ost everyone advocates better education, but they cannot agree on what that should be. Som e believe that the most urgent crisis is the preservation o f dem ocratic political culture. I f Am ericans, divided as they are by ethnicity, religion, and race, lack a com m on fond o f values and experiences, their ability to live and w ork together to solve prob­ lem s w ill be in jeopardy.* O thers, however, see prim arily a vocational and econom ic crisis, in which the expanding econom y and rising standard o f liv­ ing that have sustained Am erican dem ocracy are threatened. According to this view, the w orld has entered an unprecedented era o f com petition in w hich "high perform ance w ork organizations” w ill dom inate.7 O nly the best-trained societies, whether in Europe, Asia, A frica, or the Am ericas, w ill thrive. To a third group, who view the ch ief goals o f education and citizen­ ship as the foil realization o f personal developm ent and individual aspira­ tion, this vocational emphasis seems m isguided. T he only point on which all com m entators agree is that Am erican schools are foiling short, causing the Am erican citizenry to become at best inadequately inform ed and at worst dysfonctionally ignorant. Broadly speaking, the polem ical structure o f debates on these issues has falsely im posed the appearance o f a bipolar set o f choices. Either more

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Epilogue m oney should be invested exclusively in the public schools, or the public sys­ tem should be broken up to encourage com peting alternatives. Youth should be taught to live together in a com m on culture, or m ulticultural self-realiza­ tion should be encouraged. T h e purpose o f schools is to educate people for a life o f personal fulfillm ent, or children should be trained to com pete in the global economy. Fram ing the issues in this dichotom ous m anner has the ad­ vantage o f drawing out key questions, but it is also m isleading. Reform ers and critics o f all persuasions recognize that the developm ent o f an inform ed citizenry is more com plicated and m ultidim ensional than either/or prescrip­ tions allow. Reality, they know, is not bipolar; it never has been. T h e "lessons o f history,” moreover, give some com fort to all sides in our current debates, for the problem s that are currently being addressed not only have long histories but also have never been resolved definitively. T h e ques­ tion o f inclusiveness, for exam ple, which is today represented by the term "m ulticulturalism ,” has a long history in which social class, ethnicity, religion, and race have all figured. In eighteenth-century Pennsylvania, Benjam in Franklin and then Benjam in Rush led in attem pts to use public education schemes to assim ilate reluctant Germ an setders into British cul­ ture. A m ong those o f British origin everywhere, the m ost vexed question o f inclusion concerned property and whether the full rights o f citizens should be confined to Christian gendem en freeholders. Gradually, o f course, this question was resolved in the generations follow ing independence, so that all white men, whether propertied or im poverished, o f any religion or none at all, came to be included in the privileged category. But no sooner was this new, more inclusive boundary established than it, too, came under challenge from A frican Am ericans and wom en, who, being born in the U nited States, laid claim to the full rights o f citizens that were so readily granted to immi­ grant white men. A frican Am ericans’, Asians’, and women’s struggles for full-fledged inclusion in the citizenry have taken longer, but the pattern set in the revolutionary era meant that neither race nor sex could stand perma­ nently as an acceptable boundary for exclusion. Today, only children are de­ nied the full rights and privileges o f citizenship, but Am ericans have lowered the age o f m ajority to eighteen years and invest substantially in preparing youth for the tim e they w ill reach it. Debates over suitable curricula also stretch back across generations. In the early national era, reformers proposed the same basic public schooling in reading, w riting, and arithm etic for all free inhabitants. Beyond that, chil­ dren’s training was the fam ily’s responsibility and should be appropriate to expectations o f occupation and social rank. T h e instruction o f citizens in a

Epilogue com m on culture was less the responsibility o f schools than o f fam ilies and society in general. Som e citizenship training was im plicit in textbooks for h istory and geography, but the largest share o f such instruction was im ­ parted by the vernacular institutions o f com m unity life. In N ew England, Jo h n Adam s identified these com m unal sources o f instruction as the church, the town m eeting, and the m ilitia, along w ith the local school. Todays contests over how to transm it the culture o f an inform ed citizenry across generations also have antecedents in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. W hether this task was a public responsibility to be carried out by legislative policy and financed publicly or whether it was chiefly the duty o f parents was the m ajor struggle o f the two generations preceding the C ivil War. Those w ho believed the function o f education was prim arily to prepare citizens generally favored public schools, whereas those who saw the train­ in g o f youth as essentially vocational followed the old British tradition o f requiring fam ilies, not the public, to pay for their childrens start in life. Ultim ately, the doctrine o f public responsibility predom inated, though not fo r m any form s o f vocational education and contrary views continued to be expressed. Parents w ho preferred a more elite education and could pay for it and those who insisted on a sectarian curriculum created and m aintained private schools. T h e pathways to inform ed citizenship have never been uni­ tary or uniform . Judging from the constant division over program s and substance and contests over public policy, the history o f the whole project o f an inform ed citizenry m ay seem to be only one o f conflict. But as persistent as conflict has been in this process— indeed, endem ic to it— Am ericans have nevertheless shared a consensus on central elements o f the means for ensuring an in­ form ed citizenry. Free speech and press have always been controversial in practice but have been honored as fundam ental guiding principles for the Am erican republic. A concom itant b elief in the superiority and wisdom o f com petition am ong ideas and policies has, w ith a very few exceptions, ruled Am erican public life in preference to the notion o f m onolithic, prescriptive m onopoly. In the broadest terms, Am ericans and their institutions seem com m itted to the M iltonic notion, later restated by Joh n Stuart M ill, that over the long run, truth, not falsehood, w ill prevail. M oreover, sufficient critics o f “the truth” o f any m om ent have always existed to assure that a m onolithic policy cannot be put in place across the entire nation. It is also a fact that the perception o f a gap between expectations and real­ ity has been chronic. As reformers today measure the achievements o f Am erican students against the perform ance o f their Japanese and European

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Epilogue counterparts, so too did Jefferson and M adison judge their V irgin ia compa­ triots in com parison to w hat they took to be the highly inform ed and edu­ cated citizenry o f N ew England. In the 1830s, a N ew England-born reformer com plained that Am erican public schools were “a fa ilu re ; and that not one in tw enty o f the boys and girls who attend upon it, is educated as the public gpod— nay, as the p u b lic safety and his own individual usefulness and happi­ ness— require.” Turning from the public and personal objectives o f school­ ing to its vocational purposes, the same reform er announced that a master m echanic had com plained to him that few apprentices were fu lly literate and that even am ong journeym en, it was rare “to f i n d . . . such a com m on prac­ tical education as w ould enable him to take charge o f any im portant branch o f his business.”8 O bservations sim ilar to those made over 150 years ago echo in contem po­ rary reform rhetoric. In W inning tbe B rain Race, a high-tech executive and an educator declare that “we can’t have a world-class econom y w ithout a world-class w orkforce____A nd we cannot have a world-class workforce w ithout world-class schools.”9 Expressing broader concerns, such leading education critics as D iane Ravitch and Chester E . Finn warn o f “a genera­ tion at risk,” noting that “neither our culture, our politics, our civic life, nor our principles o f equal opportunity can satisfactorily be m aintained i f large numbers o f youngsters enter adulthood w ith little knowledge.”10 Now, as in past generations, this gap between expectations and reality serves as an anti­ dote to com placency and a spur to im provem ents. Regrettably, however, accom panying the gap between expectations and reality is the chronic problem o f “cham pagne tastes” and “ beer budgets” that doom ed Jefferson’s program in V irginia. There has always been a much greater w illingness to support the institutions that would create an inform ed citizenry w ith rhetoric than w ith cash. Yet the history o f early Am erica teaches us that spending m oney is not, in itself, a panacea. M uch o f the activity that prom oted an inform ed citizenry in the nineteenth century was inexpensive, do-it-yourself, and voluntary. T h is was the case because a large part o f the population was convinced o f the im portance o f being inform ed and believed that achieving this goal was largely an individual, fam ily, and private-sector responsibility. Judging from the growth o f the publishing industry alone, it is evident that Am ericans were w illing to spend vast sums on becom ing inform ed, but they did so ac­ cording to their own preferences and as a m atter o f private volition rather than state coercion. Those who did not seek to become inform ed were seen as disem powering themselves politically, culturally, spiritually, and econom -

Epilogue ically. Because they and their children were prim arily the ones w ho suffered the consequences, public policies were indifferent, at least w ith respect to tax-supported program s. Although Christians spent heavily on spreading the G ospel at hom e and abroad, m ost inform ed citizens were not w illing to tax themselves to coerce the ignorant to mend their ways. Since the United States was providing more opportunities for m ore people to become in­ form ed in the nineteenth century than any governm ent in recent memory, such support did not seem necessary. Today, both our perceptions and our calculations o f social cost have changed. C om pulsory education laws and truancy regulations indicate the b elief that uninform ed citizens are dangerous and expensive, and therefore, m oral considerations aside, it is prudent to raise the general level o f educa­ tion. In an econom y that needs fewer and fewer unskilled workers and supplies basic support to m illions who are not at w ork, ignorance and incom ­ petence put burdens on the public purse. In the words o f a teachers’ union bum per sticker, MI f you think education is expensive, try ignorance.” W hen associated costs o f drug and alcohol addiction, m edical care, and crim e are factored in, few w ould regard the expenses o f ignorance as acceptable. D oes the United States, then, face a crisis o f an inform ed citizenry? Are the dire predictions o f the revolutionary era imminent? These questions m ust be addressed regarding the interconnected spheres o f politics, the economy, and social and cultural life. A t one level, at least, history is reassur­ ing. Even though the past zoo-plus years have witnessed a generous allot­ m ent o f demagoguery, which shows no signs o f abating, the kinds and proportions o f dem agoguery that Am ericans have witnessed have not led to a generalized tyranny. Indeed, the tyranny o f race under which the nation began has been am eliorated. N o one could say that the danger o f tyranny by a m ajority, an oligarchy, or a single dictator has vanished, but the historical record is encouraging. Using the institutions that the revolutionary genera­ tion launched— free speech and press; freedom o f association; religious lib­ erty; the division o f governm ental powers between the legislative, executive, and judicial branches; and the division o f authority between the local, state, and national levels— the increasingly inclusive citizenry has been sufficiently inform ed to escape the characteristic tyrannies o f the nineteenth and twenti­ eth centuries. T h e historical lesson is also heartening for the U .S. economy. Although the econom y m ay not be all we wish it to be, no other national econom y o f com parable size or w ith an equally diverse population supplies such an ex­ tensive measure o f well-being. Even the harshest critics o f the training o f

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Epilogue Am erican citizens as producers recognize that Am erican workers are in the w orld s upper echelon for productivity. As w ith the threat o f tyranny against freedom , the nation cannot be assured o f future econom ic success, but it ap­ proaches the future w ith m ore advantages and assets— m aterial, social, and cultural— than m ost countries. C ertainly public policy should be tailored to enhance the productivity o f Am ericans in a global environm ent, but to say that in this respect the nations current situation is perilous is to express fear­ ful foreboding, not the current reality. W hen one considers the social and cultural realities o f the U nited States, it is im possible to offer an objective assessment o f whether the Am erican cit­ izenry is adequately inform ed. M ost people recognize that Am erican society has profound fissures and flaws— o f race, violence, injustice, fam ily life, and the spirit. Som e Am ericans seem com placent, whereas others are suffering, anxious, or angry. C ertainly Am ericans and their institutions are not suffi­ ciently well inform ed to cope w ith the vast array o f personal and social prob­ lems they encounter, but even the suggestion that they could is absurdly utopian. Com parisons across tim e and am ong cultures are so subjective and im pressionistic that they cannot be instructive. Reform ers m ay be able to am eliorate but they cannot repeal the ills o f the hum an condition. Still, where there is sm oke, there m ay well be fire, and the concern over the continuation o f a unified public culture and discourse that has been ex­ pressed so w idely in the past decade or two is undeniably real. T h e idea that such worries are m erely an established elites com plaints over its loss o f hegem ony misses some deeper realities. D iversity and m ulticulturalism may enrich the substance o f Am ericas cultural consensus and enlarge its bound­ aries, but in a late twentieth-century environm ent that also encourages indi­ vidualism , they m ay also prom ote ethnocultural sectarianism .11 To those who reflect on the fragility o f national unity, especially in m ultiethnic and m ultiracial states around the w orld, the political and cultural wholeness o f the physically vast and ethnically diverse United States seems like a remark­ able historical achievem ent, not an inevitable natural condition. Because Am erican political and educational systems have been am ong the principal agencies for achieving national wholeness, it is no wonder that alarm s sound when irreconcilable conflicts seem to m ultiply in politics and education. T h e inclusion and empowerm ent o f more voices in politics has m ade issues o f individual conscience and identity— such as abortion, school prayer, bilingual instruction, ethnic history and culture, gender and sexual orienta­ tion, affirm ative action— disrupt unity and destabilize national consensus. Since divisions o f conscience and identity led Am ericans into civil w arfare in

Epilogue the nineteenth century, and considering that the twentieth century has not been m ore benign than earlier centuries, the concerns that critics raise must not be dismissed. T h is is especially true because the agency that m ay be em erging as the m ost powerful educator and m older o f an inform ed citizenry on a national scale is not the church or the state as in past centuries but the com m ercial sector. Two centuries ago, when N ew England clergym en warned against the vicious influence o f novels on the m inds and morals o f youth, fam ilies and churches m olded schools and com m unities and both lim ited and shaped the influence o f com m ercial print culture. Now, however, the balance am ong these agencies o f instruction has shifted dram atically toward the com m ercial sector. Com m anding electronic and print technologies o f extraordinary reach and power, the com m ercial sector not only fashions the products Am ericans consum e but shapes their vocabulary and culture from infancy through old age.12 Spokesm en for the com m ercial m edia and the producers o f the goods and services o f the private m arketplace claim that their activities m erely reflect ex­ isting m otives and preferences. T h ey insist they are sim ply holding up a m ir­ ror to the social and cultural realities o f the day, and they refuse to accept the role o f scapegoat for all manner o f social ills and cultural blemishes. A fter all, i f people don’t like what the com m ercial sector has to offer, they can reject it. Advertisers and producers, they argue, continually adapt to consum er tastes. T h is is a clever argum ent, but it is one that so oversim plifies the nature o f hum an behavior that it is m isleading. T h e com m ercial sector does respond to existing needs and desires and cannot sim ply m anufacture them. A t the same tim e, however, it encourages some tendencies and values w hile dis­ couraging others. Broadly speaking, the values o f the com m ercial sector are m aterial, secular, and selfish— oriented to personal pleasures, com forts, re­ wards, and advantages. Com m ercial advantage drives the process, so that com m on public goals, whether secular or spiritual, m ust be slighted. T he growth o f private luxury in the m idst o f public squalor is the logical conse­ quence o f the lessons that the com m ercial sector teaches.13 T h e com m ercial sector does not, o f course, have the entire field to itself, but it has been approaching dom inance in those parts o f Am erican culture that are com m on and general.14 True, the private worlds o f fam ily and reli­ gion, as w ell as the com m unities and associations that like-m inded people enter to satisfy personal or public goals and to defend against the relendess pressures o f the com m ercial sector, are also powerful. Fam ilies, religions, and voluntary associations do provide a measure o f countercultural force that

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Epilogue sets lim its on the hegem ony o f the com m ercial sector. But none o f these countervoices speaks to all and for all. O nly the com m ercial sector, w ith its grasp o f com m unications m edia, inform s the com m on culture o f the Am erican citizenry all day, every day, providing a lifelong curriculum o f per­ sonal rewards that competes w ith, even as it influences, the curricula o f fam­ ilies, churches, schools, and politics. T h is is one reason w hy concerns about school and college curricula are so urgently felt as well as w hy the introduc­ tion o f com m ercial television into public schools meets opposition. Som e Am ericans are also worried about the state o f the inform ed citi­ zenry because the tabloid media and political talk radio seem to have prolif­ erated to the point that they dom inate public consciousness. As a result, they fear, the menu o f public issues and the shape o f public policy are unduly influenced by partially or w holly m isinform ed citizens.15 W ith im proved ac­ cess to airwaves and audiences, a crude dem agoguery seems to have ex­ panded and intensified in recent years. T h is concern is heightened because, in contrast to the era when the United States was form ed as a popular re­ public, the tendency o f television journalism and talk radio is to encourage a quasi-plebiscitary dem ocracy based on public opinion polls wherein a sam­ ple o f uninform ed people answer sim ple, m ultiple-choice questions on com­ plex public policy issues. T h e fear is that public policy is being fram ed by elected officials who are too responsive to these influences. W hether or not this is true, any movement approaching direct democracy at the state or national level— where citizens themselves m ake policy, whether by polls o f their opinions based on the Progressive Era reform s o f petition, referendum, and recall or by a futuristic national internet— re­ quires a level o f inform ation and engagement quite different from that envi­ sioned between the Revolution and the era o f the C ivil War. T hen citizens were expected to be sufficiendy inform ed to be able to identify the approach o f tyranny and take action to block it. T h e preservation o f liberty was thought to be safest in the hands o f the people because they w ould not tyr­ annize themselves. Local affairs, too, since they lay w ithin citizens’ im m edi­ ate purview and touched them direedy, could be setded by cidzens acting in local meetings. But general public issues o f w ar and diplom acy, public finance and commerce, education, religion, justice, and law were to be con­ sidered only by deliberative, representative assemblies operating at the state and national levels. T h at private citizens w ould be sufficiendy inform ed to make policy in all o f these areas was never contem plated and w ould have seemed absurd. As one dem ocratically oriented delegate rem arked in the constitutional convention, “T h e p eo p le. . . should have as litde to do as

Epilogue m ay be about the [national] Governm ent. T h ey w ant [i.e., lack] inform ation and are constantly liable to be m isled.”16 Today, no public official or candidate for office w ould make such an unflattering, undem ocratic statement. T h e first rule o f political rhetoric is, after conducting appropriate public opinion research, to articulate voters’ concerns and grievances w hile praising their judgm ent and com m on sense. Elected officials never advise their constituents that policies are too com plex and voters too ignorant to make decisions anym ore than they confess that they themselves cannot master the issues. Although no one believes it, in po­ litical rhetoric Am ericans pretend that they and their officials are sufficiendy inform ed to be om nicom petent. Since the Jacksonian era, this has been one o f the agreed-upon fictions o f democracy. But like m any hypocrisies, this fiction encourages unrealistic expectations and disillusionm ent. Because Am ericans are so much less w ell inform ed about public affairs than their political rhetoric pretends, and because dem ocratic culture encourages the vigorous expression o f opinions w ith or w ithout the benefit o f knowledge, conscientious people are often distressed if not frightened by the ignorance on display. T h e dynam ic and malleable ideal o f a well-inform ed citizenry supplies a perennial text for Am erican social crit­ icism because it possesses a m ythic power in the Am erican im agination. But the actual lesson o f the historical record is that no precise m eaning for an inform ed citizenry has ever been established. In the revolutionary era, be­ ing inform ed meant that citizens— particularly w hite freeholders— should acquire sufficient knowledge o f history, law, and politics to be able to recog­ nize and confront the approach o f tyranny. Later, in the early republic o f G eorge W ashington, John Adam s, Thom as Jefferson, and Jam es M adison, that m eaning was augmented by the idea that voting citizens should be suffi­ ciently inform ed and critically m inded to be able to choose public officials wisely. Education and experience should enable them to see through the se­ ductive rhetoric o f demagogues and rise above parochial self-interest. O nly then, it was agreed, w ould the people elect wise men o f good character to carry out public policy. It was the task o f rulers, men w ith some education and leisure, to inform themselves o f the merits o f political measures and to deliberate carefully before acting. O fficials were set o ff from their con­ stituents as rulers who should do what was best for the public good, not what was m ost popular. T h e ballot box w ould assure that rulers did not abuse their trust w ith im punity; elections w ould not serve as referenda. But the com petitive realities o f electoral politics doom ed this ideal o f def­ erence. B y the 1830s, it was evident that flattering the voters was essential for

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Epilogue the success o f office seekers. A t the same tim e, the w ay was opened for pop­ ular reform politics— the m ost successful o f which were anti-M asonry, tem­ perance, and abolition— activated by the dem ocratic idea that citizens inform ed on the merits o f a particular issue should organize to elect officials to do their bidding, not to serve as guides and guardians. T h is movement com bined w ith the emergence o f a cultural m arketplace in which being in­ form ed came to include boundless occupational, cultural, and recreational possibilities to push the older ideas o f an inform ed citizenry aside. Elements o f revolutionary and early republican ideals were still pressed into rhetorical service but only as they were needed to help justify the agenda o f the mo­ ment— nativist, suffragist, progressive, or conservative. Today, the m ost powerful movements invoking the ideal o f an informed citizenry point in several directions. Som e business and education leaden as­ sert that being inform ed is vital for econom ic com petitiveness. But those w ho favor the d iven ity agenda for Am erican institutions believe that the in­ form ed citizen is acquainted w ith and respectful o f the cultures o f the many peoples o f the United Su tes and thus is able to flourish in a m ulticultural so­ ciety. Yet another movement promotes the vision o f a grassroots plebiscitary dem ocracy wherein citizens are adequately inform ed to make policy choices through techniques like the initiative and referendum and even an electronic national direct democracy. To this observer, the m ost valuable elements o f the idea o f an inform ed citizenry— that people must be sufficiendy inform ed in public affairs to safe­ guard liberty and act responsibly— need to be recognized w ithin a frame­ w ork that acknowledges that deference in public affairs can be legitim ate. T h e wisest citizens responding to public opinion surveys m ay be the 10 per­ cent w ho answer “don’t know,” not the 90 percent w ho are w illing to voice a judgm ent. A s members o f a society in which we readily defer to experts every day in a m ultitude o f occupations and professions— whether pilots, physi­ cians, accountants, or electricians— we should also recognize that the com­ plicated political judgm ents required to opeu te the m achinery o f Am erican society w ith some efficiency, justice, and im provem ent also dem and experi­ ence, learning, judgm ent, and character. T h e voice o f the people, though it is only slighdy inform ed, must be heard in the political process, but it must not be the only voice. Ultim ately, people who are w ell inform ed should make policy, taking public opinion into account. T h is is, adm ittedly, a utopian idea w ith elitist possibilities. T he fact that politicians, like used car salesmen, are often ranked at the bottom o f the public’s hierarchy o f trust and respect— even the w ord “politician” seems

Epilogue soiled— suggests that the restoration o f any degree o f deference m ay be fan­ ciful. A fter all, public officials are lightning rods and scapegoats for our fears and difficulties, and in an environm ent o f free speech, we attack them pub­ licly without fear o f retribution. O rdinarily we grant deference to those who seem to know more than we do about how to solve a particular problem , but w hen politicians take such a stance, we label them as arrogant and term inate their public careers. M oreover, whereas a physician or electrician can often solve a problem single-handedly by using knowledge and technology, politi­ cal problem s can rarely be solved single-handedly and often require so much com prom ise along the w ay that the outcom e is tainted. T h e m ost effective officials are those who anticipate problem s and resolve them before they ex­ plode, achievements that, however brilliant, go unrecognized because no ex­ plosion occurred. We all know o f public officials who— inform ed or not— are so menda­ cious or hateful in other ways that we would not dream o f deferring to them, nor should we. But what the history o f the idea o f an inform ed citizenry sug­ gests is that responsible citizens should exercise their judgm ent about w orthy and unworthy public officials from a more detached perspective than is cur­ rently in vogue. We should evaluate the general com petence and integrity o f officials, not their specific position on a single issue. We should consider whether an official takes the tim e to be inform ed before m aking decisions and whether he or she encourages private citizens to be inform ed as w ell. Such a prescription w ill not restore confidence in public officials quickly— w e have seen too much opportunism , fakery, and incom petence for that. But i f this lim ited sort o f deference is taught in schools and prom oted by the m edia, then change is possible. T h e present citizenship model— which takes its cue from glib, superficially inform ed radio and television journalists and talk show hosts whose routine stance toward politicians is often cynical dis­ respect— generally presumes bad frith and doubtful honesty am ong all pub­ lic officials.17 T h is, I subm it, is a self-fulfilling expectation that makes learning, judgm ent, and integrity handicaps more than assets in electoral politics. I f Am ericans truly believe in these sterling qualities, they should look for them in candidates for public office and elevate these values above their own special interests or sensational issues when they cast their votes.

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Notes INTRODUCTION

i A more problematic view o f the connections between education and citizenship is expressed in Robert H. Wiebe, Self-R ule: A C ultural H istory o f Am erican Democracy (Chicago, 1995), 6 -7 ,157,178.

C H A P T E R ONE

i Edmund S. Morgan, Inventing the People: The Rise o f Popular Sovereignty in England and Am erica (New York, 1988). z Steven Ozment, When Fathers Ruled: Fam ily L ife in Reformation Europe (Cambridge, Mass., 1983). 3 Aristode, Politics, bk. 7, chap. 9, cited in Isaac Kramnick, Republicanism and Bourgeois Radicalism : P olitical Ideology in Late Eighteenth-Century England and Am erica (Ithaca, N.Y., 1990), 1. 4 Keith Thomas, “The Meaning o f Literacy in Early Modem England,” in The W ritten Word: literacy in Transition, ed. Gerd Baumann (Oxford, 1986), 121-22; Arthur B. Ferguson, The A rticulate Citizen and the English Renaissance (Durham, N .C ., 1965). 5 Ferguson, The A rticulate Citizen, 139. 6 Clyde A. Duniway, The Development o f Freedom o f the Press in Massachusetts (Cambridge, Mass., 1906), 6n. 7 Quoted in Ferguson, The A rticulate C itizen, 156 ,157. 8 Ibid., 141. 9 Ibid., 146. 10 Ibid., 157. ii Ibid., 142-43. 12 Ibid., 158-59,406. 13 Jan. 17, 1604, Robert Ashton, ed., Jam es I by H is Contemporaries (London, 1969), 184. At the French court, James I was said to be “the wisest fool in Christendom,” a remark attributed both to Henry IV (of Navarre) and to his minister Sully. John Bardett, Fam iliar Quotations, ed. Emily Morison Beck, 15th ed., rev. and enl. (Boston, 1980), 175. 14 This doctrine was employed in the Treaty o f Westphalia, which concluded the Thirty Years’ War in 1648.

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Notes to Pages $-12 15 Jan. 17,1604, Ashton, Jam es I by H is Contemporaries, 184. 16 Ibid., 183. 17 Duniway, Development o fFreedom o fthe Press in Massachusetts, 11-13; Frederick S. Sieben, Freedom o f the Press in England, 1476-1776: The Rise and Decline of Government Controls (Urbana, 111., 1952). 18 John Milton, Areopagitica, ed. Richard C . Jebb (1918; reprint, New York, 1971). 19 Ibid., 50. 20 Ibid., 13-14. 21 Ibid., $1. 22 Ibid., 37. 23 Ibid., 47. 24 Ibid., 6. 25 Ibid., 26. 26 Ibid., 27. In Massachusetts Bay, the Puritan magistrates anempted for a time to supervise every tavern in every village, to regulate dress, and even to oversee conversation in family and social gatherings. 27 Ibid., ii, 31. 28 Ibid., 14,40. 29 Ibid., 21. 30 Ibid., 43. 31 Ibid., $0. 32 Ibid., 59,58. 33 Ibid., 52. 34 Ibid., 34. 35 Ibid., 38. 36 Ibid., xxix. 37 David Johnston, The Rhetoric o fLeviathan: Thomas Hobbes and the Politics o f Cultural Transformation (Princeton, N .J., 1986), 109. 38 Quoted in Arnold A. Rogow, Thomas Hobbes: Radical in the Service o fReaction (New York, 1986), 79. 39 Johnston, Rhetoric o fLeviathan, 113. 40 Ibid., 125,127-28. 41 Rogow, Thomas Hobbes, 42-43,139. 42 J. G . A. Pocock, introduction to The P olitical Works o fJam es H arrington, ed. J. G . A. Pocock (Cambridge, 1977), 1-152, esp. 54,59,63,68-69,9943 Lois G . Schwoerer, “Liberty o f the Press and Public Opinion, 1660-1695,” in Liberty Secured,?: Britain before and after 1688, ed. J. R. Jones (Stanford, Calif., 1992), 202-3. 44 Ibid., 202-4. 45 Ibid., 206-7; George Kitchin, S ir Roger VEstrange (London, 1913). 46 James Sutherland, The Restoration Newspaper and Its Development (Cambridge, 1986), 6-7.

Notes to Pages 12-21 47 L’Estrange, quoted in John Nichols, Literary Anecdotes o fthe Eighteenth Century; com prizing BiographicalMemoirs ofW illiam Bowyer, Printer, E S A ., and many o f his learned frien ds. . . w ith a very copious index, 6 vols. (London, 1812—16), 4:56. Richard Atkyns, “Episde to the Reader,” in The O rigin and Growth o fPrinting: Collected Out o fHistory, and the Records o fth is Kingdome (London, 1664), Biv, cited in Schwoerer, “Liberty o f the Press” (unpublished version), 15. 48 Schwoerer, “Liberty o f the Press,” 204. 49 Ibid., 211. 50 Ibid., 214. 51 Ibid., 214-15. 52 Ibid., 2 10 -11,215-16. 53 Jeremy Black, The English Press in the Eighteenth CmfMry (Philadelphia, 1987), 5. 54 Ibid., 6. 55 Schwoerer, “Liberty o f the Press,” 215-18. 56 Ibid., 218; Schwoerer, “Liberty o f the Press” (unpublished version), 37. 57 Schwoerer, “Liberty o f the Press,” 219-20. 58 Ibid., 221,229. 59 Ibid., 222-23. 60 Ibid., 228-29. 61 Ibid., 214,230. 62 Ibid., 229. 63 Gordon J. Schochet, “From Persecution to ‘Toleration,’” in Jones, Liberty Se­ cured?, 122-57. 64 Graham C. Gibbs, “Press and Public Opinion: Prospective,” in Jones, Liberty Secured,?, 235-37. 65 Ibid., 236-37; Black, English Press, 8. 66 Gibbs, “Press and Public Opinion,” 238. 67 [Robert Molesworth, Viscount Molesworth], An Account o fDenmark as it was in 1692 (1693; 4th ed., London, 1738), x-xi. 68 Ibid., xi. 69 Ibid., xii. 70 Ibid., xiii. 71 [Jodocus Crull], Denmark Vindicated: being an answer to a late treatise called An Account o fDenmark, as it was in theyear 1692 (London, 1694), 90. 72 John Locke, Some Thoughts Concerning Education (1693; 5th ed., London, 1705), in The Educational W ritings o fJohn Locke: A C ritical Edition w ith Introduction and Notes, ed. James L. Axtell (Cambridge, 1968), 112. 73 Ibid. 74 Ibid. 75 Ibid., 112-13. 76 Ibid., H2n. 77 Ibid., 189,190.

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Notes to Pages 21-29 78 79 80 81

Ibid., 196. Ibid., 192. Ibid., 198. Ibid., 289-314; Some Thoughts Concerning Education byJohn Locke, ed. John W. Yolton and Jean S. Yolton (Oxford, 1989), 2530. 82 Locke, Some Thoughts Concerning Education, in Axtell, Educational W riting of John Locke, 323. 83 G . A. Cranfield, The Development o fthe Provincial Newspapers (Oxford, 1962).

C H A P T ER TWO

1 Bernard Bailyn, The Ideological O rigins o fthe Am erican Revolution (Cambridge, Mass., 1967), chaps. 2, 3; John Clive and Bernard Bailyn, “Englands Cultural Provinces: Scotland and America,” W illiam and M ary Quarterly, 3d ser., 11 (1954): 200-213. 2 Clyde A. Duniway, The Development o f Freedom o f the Press in Massachusetts (Cambridge, Mass., 1906), 32,54 ,6 8 -6 9 ,79n3 Quoted in William Waller Hening, ed., The Statutes at Large. . . o f Virginia, 13 vols. (New York, 1810-32), 2:511,517. 4 Duniway, Development o fFreedom ofthe Press, 64. 5 Graham C. Gibbs, “Press and Public Opinion: Prospective,” in Liberty Secured?: Britain before and after 1688, ed. J. R. Jones (Stanford, Calif., 1992), 239. 6 Ibid., 240-41. 7 Ibid., 250. 8 Ibid., 250-54; John Brewer, “The Politics o f Information: Public Knowledge and Private Interest,” chap. 8 o f The Sinews o fPower: War, Money, and the Eng­ lish Sute, 1688-178') (New York, 1989), 221-49, esp* 230. 9 Daniel Defoe, An essay on the regulation o f the press (1704), 10 -12, quoted in Gibbs, “Press and Public Opinion” (unpublished version prepared for the Center for the History o f Freedom, Washington University, St. Louis), 16. 10 Benjamin Franklin, “Silence Dogood,” New England Courant, July 9, 1722, Papers o f Benjam in Franklin, ed. Leonard W. Labaree (New Haven, Conn., 1959- ), 1:27. 11 The Letters and Papers o f CadwaUader Colden, vol. 68 o f New-York Historical Society, Collections (New York, 1937), 267-68. 12 William Livingston et al., The Independent Reflector; or, Weekly Essays on Sundry Im portant Subjects, M ore Particularly Adapted to the Province o fNew York, ed. Milton M. Klein (Cambridge, Mass., 1963), 340. Authorship o f this piece has not been established with certainty. Milton M . Klein explains that articles signed by “A ,” as this one was, were by William Smith. However, pieces by “A” were also examined by John Morin Scott and William Livingston. Klein notes

Notes to Pages29-34

13 14 15

16 17

18

19

20 21

22

23 24 25 26 27 28

that much o f the language o f this essay is similar to language found in articles written by Livingston and that Livingston approved all o f the material pub­ lished in the Independent Reflector. Accordingly, he believes the essay on liberty o f the press expresses "the sentiments o f William Smith and William Livingston.” Ibid., 343 (n. 3), 344 (n. 5); Klein, letter to author, Knoxville, Jan. 31,1995. Leonard Levy attributes this essay to Livingston in his Emergence o fa Free Press (New York, 1985) and in his edited Freedom o fthe Pressfrom Zenger to Jefferson (Indianapolis, 1966). Livingston et al., Independent Reflector, 340. Papers o fBenjam in Franklin, 1:84-85. Jean Louis DeLolme, The Constitution o fEngland; or, an account o fdie English governm ent; in which it is compared both w ith the republican form o fgovernment, and the other monarchies in Europe (1775; rev. cd., London, 1800), 410,297-98. Ibid., 297,4140. Robert £ . Brown, M iddle-Class Democracy and the Revolution in Massachusetts, 1691—1780 (Ithaca, N.Y., 1955); Robert £ . Brown and B. Katherine Brown, V irginia, 1703—1786: Democracy or Aristocracy? (East Lansing, Mich., 1964). Robert E. Brown, M iddle-Class Democracy;John J. Waters, "Patrimony, Succes­ sion, and Social Stability: Guilford, Connecticut, in the Eighteenth Century,” Perspectives in Am erican H istory 10 (1976): 131-60. David D. Hall, "The Uses o f Literacy in New England, 1600-1850,” in Printing and Society in Early Am erica, ed. William L. Joyce et al. (Worcester, Mass., 1983), 26. [James Burgh], Crito, or Essays on Various Subjects (London, 1766), 79,80. Isaac Kramnick, Republicanism and Bourgeois Radicalism : P olitical Ideology in Late Eighteenth-Century England and Am erica (Ithaca, N.Y., 1990), 87: Caroline Robbins, The Eighteenth-Century Commonwealthman: Studies in the Transmis­ sion, Development, and Circumstance o f English Liberal Thought from the Restoration o f Charles I I u n til the War w ith die Thirteen Colonies (1959; reprint, New York, 1968), 349. James Burgh, An Account o fthe First Settlem ent, Laws, Forms o fGovernment and Police o fthe Cessares, A People o fSouth Am erica (1764), 73, quoted in Kramnick, Republicanism and Bourgeois Radicalism , 226. Kramnick, Republicanism and Bourgeois Radicalism , 224. Burgh, An Account o f the First Settlem ent, 73, quoted in Kramnick, Republicanism and Bourgeois Radicalism , 226. Ibid. Quoted in Jeremy Black, The English Press in the Eighteenth Century (Phila­ delphia, 1987), 298,303. Quoted in Richard D. Altick, The English Common Reader: A Social History o f the Mass Reading Public, 1800-1900 (Chicago, 1957), 31-32. Robbins, Eighteenth-Century Commonwealthman, 14.

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Notes to Pages34-41 29 No. 294 (Feb. 6 ,1712), in The Spectator, ed. Donald F. Bond, 5 vols. (Oxford, 1965), 3:48; Kramnick, Republicanism and Bourgeois Radicalism , 193. 30 No. 294 (Feb. 6 ,1712), in Bond, Spectator, 3:49, $0. 31 Bernard de Mandcville, The Fable o fthe Bees: or, Private Vices, Public Benefits, ed. F. B. Kaye, 2 vols. (Oxford, 1924), 1:2690. 32 Ibid., 271. 33 Ibid., 275. 34 Ibid., 308. 3$ Ibid., 311. 36 Ibid., 312-14. 37 Ibid., 287-88. 38 Ibid., 302. 39 Ibid., 289. 40 Ibid., 302. 41 Ibid., 276,284. 42 Ibid., 269,320. 43 Ibid., 320. 44 Ibid., 293-95,337-38. 45 Benjamin Franklin, Proposals Relating to the Education o fYouth in Pennsylvania (1749), in Papers o fBenjam in Franklin, 3:399-400,427. 46 In ibid., 3:397-421, Franklin quoted from John Milton; John Locke; David Fordyce, Dialogues Concerning Education (1745-48); Obadiah Walker, O fEdu­ cation, Especially o f Young Gentlemen (1687); Charles Rollin; and George Turnbull, Observations upon Liberal Education, In a ll its Branches (1742). The "Good Breeding” quotation is in Papers o fBenjam in Franklin, 3:419. 47 Papers o fBenjam in D anklin, 3:349,4:108. 48 Benjamin Franklin to Samuel Johnson, Philadelphia, Aug. 23,1750, ibid., 41. 49 Ibid., 3:427. 50 “Paper on the Academy,” July 31,1750, ibid., 4:36. 51 Ibid., 3:4000. 52 Robbins, Eighteenth-Century Commonwealthman, 249-52; Bailyn, Ideological O rigins, 39 ,4on, 42n, 50, 53, 57m 53 Livingston et al., Independent Reflector, 419-20. See also Richard Buel, Jr., “Free­ dom o f the Press in Revolutionary America: The Evolution o f Libertarianism, 1760-1820,” in The Press and the Am erican Revolution, ed. Bernard Bailyn and John Hench (Worcester, Mass., 1980), 59-97. 54 Livingston et al., Independent Reflector, 420-21. 55 No. 66 (May 16 ,17 11), No. 314 (Feb. 29,1712), and No. 534 (Nov. 12,1712), in Bond, Spectator, 1:281-83,3:139-40,4:405-6. 56 Mandeville, Fable o ftire Bees, 2:172,1:311. 57 “A Sea Captains Letter,” [1732], Papers o fBenjam in Franklin, 1:254. 58 Gary B. Nash, Forging Freedom: The Formation o fPhiladelphia's Black Commun-

Notes to Pages 41-44

59 60 61 62

63

64

65

66 67 68 69 70 71

72

ity, 1/20 -18 4 0 (Cambridge, Mass., 1988), 18-19, 22-23. John Waring to Benjamin Franklin, London, Jan. 24,1757, Papers o fBenjam in Franklin, 7:100. Benjamin Franklin to John Waring, London, Jan. 3,1758, ibid., 356. Benjamin Franklin to John Waring, Philadelphia, Dec. 17, 1763, ibid., 10:395-96. Jean F ita Hankins, “Bringing the Good News: Protestant Missionaries to the Indians o f New England and New York, 1700-1775” (Ph.D. diss., University o f Connecticut, 1993). Henry Barclay to Cadwallader Colden, Dec. 7 ,17 4 1, The Letters and Papers o f Cadwallader Colden, vol. 67 o f New-York Historical Society, Collections (New York, 1937), 284-85. John Sergeant, A Letterfrom the Revd M r. Sargent o fStockbridge, to Dr. Colman o f Boston; Containing M r. Sergeant’s Proposed o fa more effectual M ethodfo r the Education o fIndian C hildren; to raise ’em i f possible into a c iv il and industrious People; by introducing the English Language among them, and thereby instilling into their M inds and Hearts, w ith a more lasting Impression, the Principles o f Virtue and Piety (Boston, 1743), 3, 4, 5, 7; Joseph Sewall, Christ Victorious over the Powers o fDarkness, by the Light o fhis preached G ospel.. . Boston, December 12 ,17 3 3 (Boston, 1733). Samson Occom (1723-92) was a Mohegan who was trained by the Reverend Eleazar Wheelock in 1743-47, was later ordained by the Long Island Presbytery, and accompanied the Reverend Nathaniel Whitaker to England on a fund-rais­ ing tour in 1765-68 to finance Wheelock’s Native American college (later Dartmouth). In the 1770s, Occom fell into poverty and alcoholism. Later he formed the Native American community o f Brothertown in western New York, where he lived after 1789. For a time, Occom was the Anglo-American mission­ aries’ greatest success story. D ictionary o fAmerican Biography, 20 vols. (New York, 1928-36), 13:614-15. Benjamin Franklin to Peter Collinson, [Philadelphia], May 9, 1753, Papers o f Benjam in Franklin, 4:483. Ibid., 483-85. Ibid., 5:158. William Smith to Richard Peters and Benjamin Franklin, Feb. 1754, ibid., 212, 216,217. Joseph Addison, No. 187 (Jan. 29,1712), in Bond, Spectator, 3:22. White Kennen, Lord Bishop o f Peterborough, A Sermon Preached before the Lords Spiritual and Temporal, in die Abbey-Church at Westminster, the 30th o f January 171p (London, 1720), 25. Joseph Easterbrooke, 1705, quoted in Stephen Dworetz, The Unvarnished D octrine: Locke, liberalism , and the American Revolution (Durham, N .C .,

1990), 179-

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Notes to Pages 44-si 73 Kathleen Wilson, “A Dissident Legacy. Eighteenth-Century Popular Politics and the Glorious Revolution,” in Jones, Liberty Securest?, 319. 74 Nathaniel Stone, 1720, quoted in Dworetz, The Unvarnished D octrine, 179. 75 Nathaniel Appleton, 1742, quoted in ibid., 180. 76 No. 124 (July 23,1711), in Bond, Spectator, 1:507. 77 Benjamin Franklin, “Address to Proprietors,” July 1742, Papers o f Benjamin Franklin, 2:348. 78 Wilson, “A Dissident Legacy: Eighteenth Century Popular Politics and the Glorious Revolution” (unpublished version prepared for the Center for the History o f Freedom, Washington University, St. Louis), 37, cites The Liverym an: or. Plain Thoughts on PubUck A ffairs (1740), 13, to the effect that all men who “drink Beer, wear Shoes, or now and then smoak a Pipe o f Tobacco” pay taxes and thus have the right to criticize the government. 79 Viscount Bolingbroke, quoted in Wilson, “A Dissident Legacy,” 319; The Cntfisman, May 23 and July 25,1741, cited in Wilson, “A Dissident Legacy” (un­ published version), 37. 80 Cadwallader Colden to Benjamin Franklin, Coldenham, [N.Y.], Nov. 1749, The Letters and Papers o f Cadwallader Colden, vol. 53 o f New-York Historical Society, Collections (New York, 1921), 158. 81 D iary and Autobiography o fJohn Adams, ed. L. H. Butterfield et al., 4 vols. (Cambridge, Mass., 1961), 1:219-20. 82 Aug. 19,1760, quoted in ibid., 152-53. 83 Mandeville, Fable o fthe Bees, 1:290. 84 [Burgh], Crito, viii, 1-2 . Kramnick, Republicanism and Bourgeois Radicalism, 228, interprets these passages slighdy differendy. Kramnick notes that the simi­ larity between Adams’s and Burgh’s comments suggests either that Burgh had published substantially the same thoughts in an earlier essay that was accessible to Adams at the time he wrote his diary entry or, more likely, that both Adams and Burgh were drawing on a particular Radical Whig essay or the common fond o f such writings available on both sides o f the Adantic. 85 [Burgh], Crito, 158,2. 86 Society for Constitutional Information, An Address to the Publicfrom the Society fo r ConstitutionalInform ation (London, 1780), 1-5, Report o fthe Sub-Committee ofW estminster, Appointed A p ril 12 ,17 8 0 . . . relative to the Election o fMembers o f Parliam ent [London, 1780], 1-4 , and A Second Address to the Public from the Societyfo r Public Inform ation (London, 1780), 16.

C H A P T ER T H R E E

i John Adams, “A Dissertation on the Canon and Feudal Law,” Boston Gazette, Sept. 30,1765, Papers o fJohn Adams, ed. Robert J. Taylor et al. (Cambridge, Mass., 1977- ), 1:120.

Notes to Pagessi—55 217

2 New York Post-Boy Nov. 8,1756, quoted in Jeffrey A. Smith, Printers and Press Freedom : The Ideology o fEarly American Journalism (New York, 1988), 130. 3 Jacob Duché, quoted in Lawrence A. Cremin, American Education: The C olonialExperience, 1607—178) (New York, 1970), 517. 4 Ibid., 531. 5 Ibid., 544-45. 6 Adams, “A Dissertation on the Canon and Feudal Law,” Papers o fJohn Adams, 1:120. 7 Measurement o f literacy levels in the eighteenth century has necessarily been imprecise. The burden o f scholarship, however, places New England at the top in colonial America and colonial America and Scotland above the rest o f Britain and Europe. See Harvey J. Graff, The Legacía o f Literacy: C ontinuitia and Contradictions in Western Culture and Society (Bloomington, 1987), chap. 6, esp. 246-57; R. A. Houston, Scottish Literacy and Scottish Identity: Illiteracy and Society in Scotland and Northern England, 1600-1800 (Cambridge, 1985), esp. 162-92; and Carl F. Kaestle et al., Literacy in the U nited Stata: Readers and Reading since 1880 (New Haven, Conn., 1991), 3-32. 8 For newspapers, see Charles E. Clark, The Public Prints: The Newspaper in Anglo-Am erican Culture, 1665—1740 (New York, 1994), esp. chaps. 10 ,11. 9 Boston town meeting, May 24, 1764, Boston Registry Department, Records Relating to the Early H istory o fBoston, vol. 16, Boston Town Records, 1758 to 1769 (Boston, 1886), 121-22. 10 The political mobilization o f the people has been treated extensively in the scholarly literature, most recendy in Gordon S. Wood, The Radicalism o f the American Revolution (New York, 1992), part 3. See also Richard D. Brown, Revolutionary PoUtia in Massachusetts: The Boston Committee o f Correspondence and the Towns, 1772—1774 (Cambridge, Mass., 1970); Ronald R Formisano, The Transformation o f P olitical Culture: Massachusetts Parties, 1790S-1840S (New York, 1983); Edmund S. Morgan, Inventing the People: The Rise o f Popular Sovereignty in England and Am erica (New York, 1988); J. R. Pole, The G ift o f Government: P olitical Responsibility from the English Restoration to Am erican Independence (Athens, Ga., 1983), and P oliticalRepresentation in England and the O rigins o fthe American Republic (New York, 1966); Richard Alan Ryerson, The Revolution Is Now Begun: The Radical Committees o f Philadelphia, 1765—17 7 6 (Philadelphia, 1978); and Chilton Williamson, Am erican Suffrage: From Property to Democracy, 176 0 -18 6 0 (Princeton, N .J., i960). 11 The publishing history o f the work is described in Papers o fJohn Adams, 1:103-5. 12 Ibid., 108. 13 Ibid. 14 Ibid., 108-10. 15 Ibid., 114.

2i8

Notes to Pages$$-6i 16 Ibid.; D iary and Autobiography o fJohn Adams, ed. L. H. Butterfield et al., 4 vols. (Cambridge, Mass., 1961), 1:257. 17 Papers o fJohn Adams, 1:118. 18 Ibid. 19 Ibid., 120. 20 Ibid. 21 Ibid. 22 Ibid., 120-21. 23 Ibid., 121. 24 Ibid. 25 Ibid. 26 Ibid. 27 Ibid., 122. 28 Ibid., 126. 29 Ibid., 127. 30 Ibid., 128. 31 Pole, G ift o f Government, 130, 17m ; Boston town meeting, May 26, 1766, Boston Registry Department, Boston Town Records, iy j8 to 176 9,183. 32 Quoted in Richard D. Brown, Revolutionary Politics, 43. 33 Carl F. Kaestle, “The Public Reaction to John Dickinsons Farm ers Letters," Proceedings o f the American Antiquarian Society 78, part 2 (1968): 325-26. Dickinsons Letters went through seven American pamphlet editions. 34 John Dickinson, Lettersfrom a Farm er in Pennsylvania to the Inhabitants o fthe British Colonies (1767-68), in Em pire and N ation: Letters from a Farm er in Pennsylvania, John DickinsonJLettersfrom a Federal Farmer, Richard Henry Lee, ed. Forrest McDonald (Englewood Cliffs, N .J., 1962), 3-85; Kaesde, “Public Reaction,” 329-38. 35 [William Knox], The Controversy Between Great B ritain and H er Colonies Reviewed (London, 1769). 36 Kaesde, “Public Reaction,” 335-36; Lennaid J. Davis, Factual Fictions: The O rigins ofthe English N ovel(New York, 1983). 37 Dickinson, Lettersfrom a Farmer, in McDonald, Em pire and N ation, esp. 3,84. 38 Ibid., 3. 39 Benjamin Franklin, “Rules by Which a Great Empire May be Reduced to a Small One,” Sept. 11, 1773, The Papers o f Benjam in Franklin, ed. William B. Willcox (New Haven, Conn., 1959- ), 20:392-93. 40 Bernard Bailyn, The O rdeal o f Thomas Hutchinson (Cambridge, Mass., 1974), 199-201. 41 Richard D. Brown, Revolutionary Politics, 84-85. 42 Boston town meeting, Mar. 19, 1771, Boston Registry Department, Records Relating to the Early H istory o fBoston, vol. 18, Boston Town Records, 1770 through 1777 (Boston, 1887), 48.

Notes to Pages 61-67 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50

51 52 $3 54

55

56

57

58

59 60

Richard D. Brown, Revolutionary Politics, 44. Quoted in ibid. Ibid., chap. 4. Ibid., 91. Thomas Young to Hugh Hughes, Boston, Dec. 21,1772, Miscellaneous Bound Manuscripts, Massachusetts Historical Society, Boston, Mass. Richard D. Brown, Revolutionary Politics, 9$, 167. Quoted in ibid., 247. Thomas R. Adams, The American Controversy: A Bibliographical Study o f the British Pamphlets about the Am erican D ispute, 1764—178}, 2 vols. (Providence, 1980), 1:422-24; Thomas Paine, Common Sense, ed. Isaac Kramnick (Harmondsworth, Eng., 1976), 8-9. Eleven other editions were printed that year, mostly in Britain. Bernard Bailyn, “Common Sense,” in Fundam ental Testaments o fthe Am erican Revolution (Washington, D .C ., 1973), 7-22. Bernard Bailyn, The Ideological O rigins o fthe American Revolution (Cambridge, Mass., 1967), 288-91. The Works o f John Adams, ed. Charles Francis Adams, 10 vols. (Boston, 1850-56), 1:192,195. J. Paul Selsam, The Pennsylvania Constitution o f1776: A Study in Revolutionary Democracy (Philadelphia, 1936), 202-3; John L. Cheney, Jr., ed., North Carolina Government, 1585—1777: A N arrative and StatisticalH istory (Raleigh, N .C ., 1981), 815. Samuel Adams to James Warren, Philadelphia, Nov. 4, 1775, Warren-Adams Letters: Being chiefly a correspondence among John Adams, Sam uel Adams, and Jam es Warren, vol. 72 o f Massachusetts Historical Society, Collections (Boston, 1917), 17 1-7 1. “Appeal to the Inhabitants o f Quebec,” Oct. 26, 1774, in Am erican P olitical W riting during the Founding Era, 1760-1805, ed. Charles S. Hyneman and Donald S. Lutz (Indianapolis, 1983), 233-34; Richard Buel, Jr., “Freedom o f the Press in Revolutionary America: The Evolution o f Libertarianism, 1760-1820,” in The Press and the American Revolution, ed. Bernard Bailyn and John B. Hench (Worcester, Mass., 1980), 59-97. Thomas Paine, “The Magazine in America,” Pennsylvania M agazine, Jan. 2, 1775, Complete W ritings o fThomas Paine, ed. Philip S. Foner, 2 vols. (New York, 1945), 2:1112. The Papers o f George Mason, 1725-1772, ed. Roben A. Rutland, 3 vols. (Chapel Hill, N .C ., 1970), 1:288; The Papers o f ThomasJefferson, ed. Julian P. Boyd et al. (Princeton, N .J., 1950- ), 1:344-45,353,363,6:288,304. Phillips Payson, Massachusetts election sermon, 1778, in Hyneman and Lutz, American P olitical W riting 1:530. Thomas Jefferson to John Adams, n.p., May 16,1777, Papers ofThomasJefferson,

219

220

Notes to Pages 68-7)

61

62 63 64 65

66

2:19. During the war an armed insurrection by citizens o f backcountry Virginia was afterward explained by some o f the insurgents and their opponents as hav­ ing been caused by the insurgents’ lack o f adequate information regarding state government policies. See David J. Kiracofe, “Treason and the Development o f National Identity in Revolutionary America, 1775-1815” (Ph.D. diss., Univer­ sity o f Connecticut, 1995), esp. 119,123. John S. Whitehead, The Separation o fCollege and State: Colum bia, Dartmouth, H arvard, and Yale, 1776-1876 (New Haven, Conn., 1973); Howard Miller, The Revolutionary College: American Presbyterian H igher Education, 1707-18 )7 (New York, 1976), 155-56. Payson, Massachusetts election sermon, in Hyneman and Lutz, American P olitical W riting 1:530. John Adams to Abbé de Mably, Paris, Oct. 1782, Works o fJohn Adams, 5:494-96. Miller, Revolutionary College, 155-56. “A Dissertation on Education in die Form o f a Letter from James Maury to Robert Jackson, July 17, 1762,” ed. Helen Duprey Bullock, Papers o f the Albem arle County H istorical Society 2 (1942): 4 0 ,4 1,4 3,4 6,4 7,49 ,58. D iary o fLondon Carter, ed. Jack P. Greene, 2 vols. (Charlottesville, Va., 1965),

i: 37i - 73. 67 Henry Laurens to William Fisher, Charles Town, S.C., Mar. 28,1763, Papers o f Henry Laurens, ed. Philip M. Hamer et al. (Columbia, S.C., 1968- ), 3:383. 68 Henry Laurens to James Grant, Charleston, S.C., Nov. 24, 1770, ibid., ed. George C . Rogers, Jr., et al., 7:407. 69 Henry Laurens to James Habersham, Charleston, S.C ., Jan. 11,177 0 , ibid., 212. 70 Henry Laurens to Benjamin Elliott, New York, Sept. 9 ,1771, ibid., 586-87. 71 Henry Laurens to Benjamin Elliott, Chelsea, Eng., Nov. 4, 1771, ibid., ed. George C. Rogers, Jr., et al., 8:31; Henry Laurens to Thomas Savage, West­ minster, Eng., D ec 5,1771, ibid., 75. 72 Henry Laurens to Richard Clarke, Charles Town, S.C., Apr. 6, 1771, ibid., 7:481. Laurens was writing about his second son, Henry. 73 Robert Morris to Matthew Ridley, Philadelphia, Oct. 14 ,178 1, The Papers o f Robert M orris, ed. E. James Ferguson et al. (Pittsburgh, 1975- ), 3:56-57. 74 Ibid., 57; Robert Morris to Benjamin Franklin, Philadelphia, Oct. 14,1781, ibid.,

5375 John Adams to John Quincy Adams, Amsterdam, Dec. 23,1780, Adams Fam ify Correspondence, ed. L. H. Butterfield and Marc Friedlaender (Cambridge, Mass., 1963->,4:49. 76 John Adams to Abigail Adams, The Hague, June 16,1782, ibid., 325. 77 John Jay to Robert Morris, Paris, Oct. 13,1782, Papers o fRobertM orris, ed. John Catanzariti et al., 6:577. 78 Henry Laurens to Thomas Savage, Westminster, Eng., Dec. 5,17 71, Papers o f Henry Laurens, 8:75.

Notes to Pages73-76 79 Henry Laurens to James Laurens, Westminster, Eng., Dec. 12,177 1, ibid., 91. 80 Royal American M agazine (Boston), Jan. 1774, Isaiah Thomas, publisher, 10, quoted in part in Linda K. Kerber, Women o fthe Republic: Intellect and Ideology in Revolutionary Am erica (Chapel Hill, N .C ., 1980), 191. 81 Kerber, Women o f the Republic, chap. 7; Jan Lewis, “The Republican Wife: Virtue and Seduction in the Early Republic,” W illiam and M ary Quarterly, 3d ser., 44 (1987): 689-721. 82 Thomas Jefferson, “A Bill for Amending the Constitution o f the College o f William and Mary, and Substituting More Certain Revenues for Its Support,” as reported by the Committee o f Revisions, June 18,1779 , Papers o f Thomas Jefferson, 2:538. See also Lawrence A. Cremin, Am erican Education: The Colonial Experience, 1607—1783 (New York, 1970), 347-5 6. 83 Jon Teaford, “The Transformation o f Massachusetts Education, 1670-1780,” H istory o f Education Q uarterly 10 (1970): 287-307, esp. 295; Robert Middlekauff, Ancients and Axiom s: Secondary Education in Eighteenth-Century New England (New Haven, Conn., 1963), 40. 84 Quoted in Merrill D. Peterson, ThomasJefferson and the New N ation (New York, 1970), 151. 85 Thomas Jefferson, “A Bill for the More General Diffusion o f Knowledge,” as re­ ported by the Committee o f Revisions, Jan. 6 ,1779, Papers o fThomasJefferson, 2:526-27. 86 Ibid. 87 Ibid., 530-31. 88 Ibid., 531. It is ironic that in some particulars Jefferson’s plan echoed one pre­ sented by Mandeville in his “Essay on Charity and Charity Schools” o f 1714. Referring to gentlemen, Mandeville had argued that “all the Liberal Arts and every Branch o f Literature should be encouraged throughout the Kingdom. — In every County there should be one or more large Schools erected at the Publick Charge for Latin and Greek." These schools were to have six or more grades. Bernard de Mandeville, The Fable o fthe Bees; or, Private Vices, Public Benefits, ed. E B. Kaye, 2 vols. (Oxford, 1924), 1:295. James Burgh advocated government construction o f schools in all parishes wherein “one half o f the day [was to be] spent learning useful trades and employments, the other half reading, writing and understanding accounts” (An Account o fthe First Settlem ent, Laws, Forms o f Governmentand Police o fthe Cessâtes, A People o fSouth Am erica [1764], quoted in Isaac Kramnick, Republicanism and Bourgeois Radicalism : P olitical Ideology in Late Eighteenth-Century England and Am erica (Ithaca, N.Y., 1990), 226). 89 Jefferson, “Bill for the More General Diffusion o f Knowledge,” Papers o f ThomasJefferson, 2:532. 90 Ibid., 533. 91 Jefferson, “Bill for Amending the Constitution o f the College o f William and Mary,” ibid., 540-42.

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222 Notes to Pages 77-86 92 Thomas Jefferson, Notes on the State o/V irginia, The W ritings ofThomasJefferson, ed. Paul Leicester Ford, 12 vols. (New York, 1904-5), 4:61,64. 93 John Adams to Jonathan Dickinson Sergeant, Philadelphia, July 21,1776 , Papers o fJohn Adams, 4:397. 94 John Adams to Joseph Hawley, Philadelphia, Aug. 25,1776, ibid., 495-97. 95 Gordon S. Wood, The Creation o f the Am erican Republic, 1776-1787 (Chapel Hill, N .C ., 1969), chap. 12. 96 John Adams to Joseph Hawley, Philadelphia, Aug. 25, 1776, Papers o fJohn Adams, 4:495-97. 97 Payson, Massachusetts election sermon, in Hyneman and Lutz, American P olitical W riting 1:526-27. 98 Ibid., 527. 99 Massachusetts constitution o f 1780, in The Popular Sources o fP oliticalAuthority. Documents on the Massachusetts Constitution o f 1780, ed. Oscar Handlin and Mary F. Handlin (Cambridge, Mass., 1966), 442-43. 100 Ibid., 446. 101 Ibid. 102 Ibid., 465. 103 Ibid., 467. 104 Nathan O . Hatch, The Sacred Cause o f Liberty: Republican Thought and the M illennium in Revolutionary New England (N ew Haven, Conn., 1977), chap. 4. 105 Quoted in Miller, Revolutionary College, 119 ,118 . 106 Ezra Stiles, The U nited States Elevated to Glory and Honor (New Haven, Conn., 1783), 34; Benjamin Rush to John Armstrong, Philadelphia, Mar. 19,1783, Letters o fBenjam in Rush, ed. L H. Butterfield, 2 vols. (Princeton, N .J., 1951), 1:294. 107 Samuel Eliot Morison, ed., Sources and Documents Illustrating the American Revolution, 1764-1788, and the Formation o f the Federal Constitution, 2d ed. (New York, 1972), 207.

C HA P T E R FOUR

1 Gordon S. Wood, The Radicalism o fthe Am erican Revolution (New York, 1992). 2 Joan R. Gundersen, “Independence, Citizenship, and the American Revolution,” Signs 13 (1987): 59-77; Linda K. Kerber, “The Revolutionary Generation: Ideology, Politics, and Culture in the Early Republic,” in The New American History, ed. Eric Foner (Philadelphia, 1990); Paul Kleppner, “ Defining Citizenship: Immigration and the Struggle for Voting Rights in America,” in Votingand the Sp irit o fDemocracy: Essays on the H istory o/Voting and Voting Rights in Am erica, ed. Donald W. Rogers (Urbana, 111., 1992), 43-52; Barbara Clark Smith, “Food Rioters and the American Revolution,” W illiam and Mary Quarterly, 3d ser., 51 (1994): 3-38.

Notes to Pages 87-90 3 London Public Ledger, quoted in Connecticut Courant (Hartford), Jan. 20,1766, i. 4 Thomas Paine, “The Magazine in America,” Pennsylvania M agazine, Jan. 2, Í775, Complete W ritings o fThomas Paine, ed. Philip S. Foner, 2 vols. (New York, 1945), 2:1110. 5 “Draft o f Virginia Declaration o f Rights,” May 1776, The Papers o f George Mason, 1729-1792, ed. Robert A. Rutland, 3 vols. (Chapel Hill, N .C ., 1970), 1:288; June 8,1789, The Papers o fJames M adison, ed. Charles F. Hobson and Robert A. Rutland, 17 vols. (Chicago, 1962-91), 12:201; Henry Steele Commager and Milton Cantor, eds., Documents o fAmerican History, vol. 1 , 10th ed. (Englewood Cliffs, N .J., 1988), 146. 6 GeneralAdvertiser, and Political, Commercial, A gricultural and Literary Journal, 1790, edited by Benjamin Franklin Bache, quoted in Jeffrey A. Smith, Printers and Press Freedom : The Ideology o fEarly Am erican Journalism (New York, 1988), 158. Bache was raised under the supervision o f his grandfather, Benjamin Franklin. 7 Thomas Jefferson to George Washington, Sept. 9, 1792, quoted in Jeffrey A. Smith, Printers and Press Freedom, 40. 8 Thomas Jefferson, “Notes for a Constitution,” [1794], quoted in ibid., 89. 9 Thomas Jefferson to Elbridge Gerry, Philadelphia, Jan. 26,1799, The W ritings o f Thomas Jefferson, ed. Andrew A. Lipscomb and Albert Ellery Bergh, 20 vols. (Washington, D .C ., 1903-4), 10:78; Thomas Jefferson to Mr. Pictet, Washing­ ton, D .C ., Feb. 5, 1803, ibid., 357; Thomas Jefferson, “Second Inaugural Address,” Mar. 5,1805, ibid., 3:381. 10 Jefferson, “Second Inaugural Address,” ibid., 3:380; Thomas Jefferson to John Norvell, Washington, D .C ., June 11,1807, ibid., 11:224-25; Thomas Jefferson to President James Madison, Monticello, Mar. 17, 1809, ibid., 12:267; Thomas Jefferson to Walter Jones, Monticello, Jan. 2,1814, ibid., 14:46. n Thomas Paine, “Liberty o f the Press,” American Citizen, Oct. 20, 1806, Complete W ritings o fThomas Paine, 2:1010. 12 Thomas Jefferson to Col. Charles Yancey, Monticello, Jan. 6,1816, W ritings o f Thomas Jefferson, 14:384; Thomas Jefferson to Monsieur A. Coray, Monticello, Oct. 31,1823, ibid., 15:489; Thomas Jefferson to James Monroe, Monticello, Feb. 4,1816, ibid., 14:430; Thomas Jefferson to Albert Gallatin, Monticello, Feb. 15, 1818, ibid., 19:258; Thomas Jefferson to Charles Pinckney, Monticello, Sept. 30, 1820, ibid., 15:279. 13 John Adams to Samuel Adams, New York, Oct. 18,179 0, The Works o fJohn Adams, ed. Charles Francis Adams, 10 vols. (Boston, 1850-56), 6:414-16. 14 Samuel Adams to John Adams, Boston, Nov. 25,1790, The W ritings o fSam uel Adams, ed. Harry A. Cushing, 4 vols. (1904-8; reprint, New York, 1968), 4:347, 349-

15 Ibid., 349.

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Notes to Pages90-94 16 Papers o fJam es M adison, ed. Robert A. Rutland et al., 17 vols. (Charlottesville, Va., 1962-91), 14:170. 17 George Washington, Farewell Address, Sept. 19,179 6, The W ritings o f George Washington, ed. John C . Fitzpatrick, 39 vols. (Washington, D .C ., 1931-44), 35:230. 18 The law is reprinted in James Morton Smith, Freedoms Fetters: The A lien and Sedition Lam and American C iv il Liberties (Ithaca, N.Y., 1966), 442. 19 Zephaniah S. Moore, An Oration on the Anniversary o fthe Independence o fthe U nited States o fAm erica. . . Ju ly 5, 1802 (Worcester, Mass., 1802), 16. 20 Richard R. John, Spreading the Word: The Am erican Postal System from Fmnklin to Morse (Cambridge, Mass., 1995), chap. 2; Richard B. Kielbowicz, News in the M ail: The Press, Post O ffice, and Public Inform ation, 1700-1860S (New York, 1989). 21 N ational Gazette, [Dec. 19, 1791], Papers o f Jam es M adison, ed. Roben A Rutland and Thomas A. Mason, 14:170. 22 John Russell petition, Boston, Feb. 3,1786, in John B. Hench, “Massachusetts Printers and the Commonwealth’s Newspaper Advertisement Tax o f 1786,” Proceedings o fthe Am erican Antiquarian Society Sy, pan 1 (Apr. 1977): 203. 23 Thomas Jefferson to Edward Carrington, Paris, Jan. 16, 1787, The Papers o f ThomasJefferson, ed. Julian P. Boyd et al. (Princeton, N .J., 1950- ), 11:49: Roger Sherman, quoted by James Madison, Philadelphia, May 31,1787, in The Records o fthe Federal Convention o f1787, rev. ed., ed. Max Farrand, 4 vols. (New Haven, Conn., 1937), 1:48. 24 Jan. 9 ,1792, in Congress, Papers o fJames M adison, ed. Rutland and Mason, 14:186; John Steele to constituents, Jan. 15, 1792, in C ircular Letters o f Congressmen to Their Constituents, 1789-1829, ed. Noble E. Cunningham, Jr., 3 vols. (Chapel Hill, N .C ., 1978), 1:9 . 25 James Madison to Edmund Randolph, [Philadelphia], Jan. 28,1783, Papers o f Jam es M adison, ed. William T. Hutchinson and William M. E. Rachal, 6:156. 26 Commager and Cantor, Documents o fAm erican H istory 1:125-26. 27 James Madison to Thomas Jefferson, New York, Feb. 15,1787, Papers o fThomas Jefferson, 11:152. Ibid., 2:5350, includes editor Julian P. Boyd’s discussion o f the education bill. 28 Rhys Isaac, The Transformation o f V irginia, 1740-1790 (Chapel Hill, N.C., 1982), 294-95; Merrill D. Peterson, ThomasJefferson and the New N ation (New York, 1970), 150. 29 Commager and Cantor, Documents o fAm erican H istory 1:12 4 ,13I30 Quoted in Frederick Rudolph, ed., Essays on Education in the Early Republic (Cambridge, Mass., 1965), xv. 31 Benjamin Rush, A Plan fo r the Establishm ent o fPublic Schools and the Diffusion o fKnowledge in Pennsylvania; to Which Are Added, Thoughts upon the Mode o f

Notes to Pages94-95 225

32

33 34

35

36

37 38

39

Education, Proper in a Republic, Addressed to the Legislature and Citizens o fthe State (Philadelphia, 1786), in ibid., 13; Benjamin Rush to James Hamilton, Philadelphia, June 17 ,18 10 , Letters o fBenjam in Rush, ed. L. H. Butterfield, 2 vols. (Princeton, N .J., 1951), 2:1053. Thomas Jefferson to Dupont de Nemours, Poplar Forest, Apr. 24,1816, W ritings o f Thomas Jefferson, 14:491. A year and a half later, Jefferson suggested that a sanction against families in which parents did not educate their sons be enacted whereby the uneducated would be disfranchised. A law was proposed to deny citizenship to future inhabitants who could not "read readily in some tongue, native or acquired.” Thomas Jefferson to Joseph C. Cabell, Poplar Forest, Sept. 9,1817, ibid., 17:4230,424. John Adams to Benjamin Rush, Quincy, Aug. 28,18 11, Works o fJohn Adams, 9:639. Ibid., xv; Samuel Harrison Smith, Remarks on Education (1798), in Essays on Education in the Early Republic, ed. Frederick Rudolph (Cambridge, Mass., 1965), i9on, 210; Samuel Knox, An Essay on the Best System o fLiberal Education (1799), in ibid., 311. Benjamin Rush to Richard Price, Philadelphia, May 25, 1786, Letters o f Benjam in Rush, 1:388; Benjamin Rush, “Address to the people o f the United Sutes,” Am erican Museum, or Repository 1 (Jan. 1787): 11. For a discussion o f the use o f the Spartan educational model in conjunction with contradictory practi­ cal and commercial goals, see Lorraine Smith Pangle and Thomas L. Pangle, The Learning o f Liberty: The Educational Ideas o f the American Founders (Lawrence, Kans., 1993), chap. 2. James McLachlan, “Classical Names, American Identities: Some Notes on College Students and the Classical Tradition in the 1770s,” in Classical Traditions in Early Am erica, ed. John W. Eadie (Ann Arbor, 1976), 81-98; Stephen Botein, “Cicero as a Role Model for Early American Lawyers: A Case Study in Classical Influence,” ClassicalJournal 73 (1977-78): 313-21; James M. Farrell, “Pro M ilitibus O ratio: John Adams’s Imiution o f Cicero in the Boston Massacre Trial,” R hetorical (Summer 1991): 233-49. David Hume, “O f the Study o f History” (1741), in Essays: M oral, Political, and Literary ed. Eugene F. Miller, rev. ed. (Indianapolis, 1987), 565. James Wilson, “O f the Study o f the Law o f the United Sutes” (1790-91), Works o fJam es Wilson, ed. Robert Green McCloskey, 2 vols. (Cambridge, Mass., 1967), 1:88-89; John Adams to Abigail Adams II, Paris, Aug. 13,1783, TheBook o fA bigail and John: Selected Letters o fthe Adams Fam ily 1762—1784, ed. L. H. Butterfield, Marc Friedlaender, and Mary-Jo Kline (Cambridge, Mass., 1975), 360. May 1785, The D iaries o f George Washington, ed. Donald Jackson and Dorothy Iwohig, 6 vols. (Charlottesville, Va., 1976-79), 4:1400. Washington also pro­ posed the esublishment o f national military academies in a letter to Alexander

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Notes to Pages 95-100 Hamilton, Newburgh, N.Y., May 2,1783, W ritings o fGeorge Washington, 26:375, 396- 97 40 George Washington to Alexander Hamilton, Philadelphia, Sept. 1, 1796, W ritings o fGeorge Washington, 35:199. 41 Benjamin Rush to Richard Price, Philadelphia, May 25, 1786, Letters o f Benjam in Rush, 1:388; Benjamin Rush, “To Friends o f the Federal Government: A Plan for a Federal University,” Federal Gazette, Oct. 29,1788, ibid., 492-94. 42 W ritings o fGeorge Washington, 30:494, 31:279-80; David Madsen, The National U niversity: Enduring Dream o fthe USA (Detroit, 1966), 24-37. 43 George Washington to Vice President John Adams, Nov. 15,1794, W ritings o f George Washington, 34:23; George Washington to Thomas Jefferson, Mar. 15, 1795, ibid., 148. 44 James Madison, “Seventh Annual Message,” Dec. 5,1815, The W ritings o fJames M adison, ed. Gaillard Hunt, 9 vols. (New York, 1900-1910), 8:343. 45 George Washington to Thomas Jefferson, Philadelphia, Mar. 15,1795, Writings o fGeorge Washington, 34:147. 46 Thomas Jefferson to Gen. James Breckinridge, Monticello, Feb. 15, 1821, W ritings o f Thomas Jefferson, 15:315; Thomas Jefferson to John Taylor, Monti­ cello, Feb. 14,1821, ibid., 18:313; Thomas Jefferson to Gen. James Breckinridge, Monticello, Apr. 9, 1822, ibid., 15:364-65; Thomas Jefferson to Joseph C. Cabell, Monticello, Jan. 31,1821, ibid., 311. 47 Thomas Jefferson to [?], Monticello, Feb. 3,1825, ibid., 16:104. 48 Commager and Cantor, Documents o fAmerican History, 1:126. 49 Samuel Austin, The D iffusion o f Correct Knowledge o fthe True God, A Leading Object o fthe Christian M inistry: A Sermon delivered at the Tabernacle in Salem, A p ril 20,1805 (Salem, Mass., 1803), 22. 50 Zephaniah S. Moore, Oration on the Anniversary o f the Independence o f the United States, 24. 51 Carl F. Kaestle, P illars o f the Republic: Common Schools and Am erican Society, 1780—1860 (New York, 1983), chaps. 1-3. 52 Benjamin Rush, “To the Citizens o f Philadelphia: A Plan for Free Schools,” Independent Gazetteer (Philadelphia), Mar. 28,1787, Letters o fBenjam in Rush, 1:413. 53 Ibid. 54 Ibid., 414-15. 55 Samuel Adams to James Warren, Philadelphia, Nov. 4, 1775, Warren-Adams Letters: Being chiefly a correspondence among John Adams, Sam uel Adams, and Jam es Warren, vol. 72 o f Massachusetts Historical Society, Collections (Boston, 1917), 171-73. 56 In Am erican P olitical W riting during the Founding Era, 1760-1805, ed. Charles S. Hyneman and Donald S. Lutz, 2 vols. (Indianapolis, 1983), 1:555.

Notes to Pages ioi—ó 57 John Adams to John Jebb, London, Sept. 10,1785, Works o fJohn Adams, 9:540. 58 John Adams, A Defense o fthe Constitutions o fGovernment ofthe U nited States o f Am erica (1788), ibid., 6:168. 59 Ibid., 198-99. 60 John Adams to Benjamin Waterhouse, Quincy, Aug. 7, 1805, Statesman and Friend: Correspondence o fJohn Adams w ith Benjam in Waterhouse, 1784—1822, ed. Worthington Chauncey Ford (Boston, 1927), 25. 61 Thomas Jefferson to George Wythe, Paris, Aug. 13,1786, Papers ofThomasJeffer­ son, 10:245; Thomas Jefferson, "Sixth Annual Message,” Dec* 2,1806, W ritings ofThom asJefferson, 3:423. 62 Thomas Jefferson to John Adams, Monticello, July 5,1814, W ritings ofThom as Jefferson, 14:150-51; Thomas Jefferson to John Adams, Monticello, Oct. 28,1813, The Adam s-Jefferson Letters: The Complete Correspondence between ThomasJeffer­ son and A bigail and John Adams, ed. Lester J. Cappon, 2 vols. (Chapel Hill, N .C ., 1959), 2:290. 63 Thomas Jefferson, “Autobiography,” Jan. 6 ,18 21, W ritings ofThom as Jefferson, 1:71-72; William Wirt, Letters o fa British Spy, 10th ed. (1803; reprint, New York, 1832), in Papers ofThom asJefferson, 2:534-350. 64 James Madison to W[illiam] T. Barry, Aug. 4,1822, W ritings o fJam es M adison, 9:104-7. 65 Kaestle, P illars o fthe Republic, chaps. 1-3. 66 Peter Onuf, “State Politics and Republican Virtue: Religion, Education, and Morality in Early American Federalism,” in Toward a Usable Past: An Exam ina­ tion o f dre O rigins and D uplications o f State Protections o f lib erty, ed. Paul Finkelman and Stephen E. Gottlieb (Athens, Ga., 1991), 91-116. 67 Lawrence A. Cremin, Am erican Education: The N ational Experience, 1783-1878 (New York, 1982), 9 -10 ,40 1. 68 See James Willard Hurst, “The Release o f Energy,” in Law and the Conditions o f Freedom (Madison, Wis., 1956), 3-32. 69 Quoted in Sherman Williams, “Jedidiah Peck: The Father o f the Public School System o f the State o f New York,” Quarterly Journal o f the New York State H istoricalAssociation 1 (1920): 221,222. 70 Ibid., 226,236-39. 71 Ibid., 236. 72 Richard D. Brown, Knowledge Is Power. The D iffusion o fInform ation in Early Am erica, 1700-1863 (New York, 1989), 286-96. 73 John Adams to Abigail Adams, Philadelphia, Aug. 13, 1776, Adams Fam ily Correspondence, ed. L. H. Butterfield and Marc Friedlaender (Cambridge, Mass., 1963- ), 2:90. 74 James Madison to W[illiam] T. Barry, Aug. 4,1822, W ritings o fJam es M adison, 9:108-9.

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Notes to Pages 106—9 75 Printen’ petition, Feb. 2,1785, in Hench, “Massachusetts Printen,” 208; Noah Webster, On the Education o f Youth in Am erica (1790), in Rudolph, Essays on Education, 65. 76 Benjamin Rush to John Armstrong, Philadelphia, Mar. 19, 1783, Letters o f Benjam in Rush, 1:294. 77 D iary and Autobiography o fJohn Adams, ed. L. H. Butterfield et al., 4 vols. (Cambridge, Mass., 1961), 3:240-41. 78 Benjamin Rush to Jeremy Belknap, Philadelphia, June 13, 1789, Letters o f Benjam in Rush, 1:521; Pangle and Pangle, The Learning o fLiberty 30-31. 79 Webster, On the Education ofYouth, in Rudolph, Essays on Education, 50-51. 80 Ibid., 66. 81 Robert Coram, P olitical Inquiries: to Which is Added, a Plan fo r the General Establishm ent o fSchools throughout the U nited States (1791), in Rudolph, Essays on Education, 113,138 ,14 1. 82 Benjamin Rush to John Adams, Philadelphia, Feb. 4 ,18 11, Oct. 2,18 10 , July 2, 1789, Letters o fBenjam in Rush, 2:1080-81,1067,1:518; John Adams to Benjamin Rush, June 19, 1789, ibid., i:5i8n. Rush even urged that the training of Presbyterian clergy be restricted to the study o f religious texts and the history and culture o f the biblical era. He sought to preserve “a pious ignorance. . . of the crimes o f heathen gods” and mythology. Benjamin Rush to [Ashbel Green], Philadelphia, May 22,1807, ibid., 2:946-48. 83 Samuel Harrison Smith, Remarks on Education: Illustrating the Close Connection Between Virtue and Wisdom, To Which Is Annexed a System o fLiberal Education, Which, Hasting Received the Premium Awarded by the Am erican Philosophical Society December 13th, 1797, Is Now Published by Their O rder(1798), in Rudolph, Essays on Education, 188,189,195,196. 84 Richard D. Brown, Knowledge Is Power, 282, 286. 85 Marian Barber Stowell, Early American Alm anacs: The Colonial Weekday Bible (New York, 1977); James A. Bear, Jr., and Mary Caperton Bear, A Checklist o f V irginia Almanacs, 1732-1890 (Charlottesville, Va., 1962). See also George L. Kittredge, The O ld Farm er and H is Alm anac (Boston, 1904). 86 James D. Watkinson, “Useful Knowledge?: Concepts, Values, and Access in American Education, 1776-1840,” H istory o f Edttcation Q uarterly 30 (1990): 351-70. Information on the Christian H erald and Seaman's M agazine-m s pro­ vided by Professor Paul A. Gilje. 87 Gordon S. Wood, “The Democratization o f Mind in the American Revolution,” in Leadership in the Am erican Revolution (Washington, D.C., 1974), and The Radicalism o f the Am erican Revolution (New York, 1992); Neil McKendrick, “Commercialization and the Economy,” in Neil McKendrick, John Brewer, and J. H. Plumb, The Birth o f a Consumer Society: The Com m ercialization o f Eighteenth-Century England (Bloomington, Ind., 1982),

Notes to Pages 109-12 9-194; Richard L. Bushman, The Refinem ent o fAm erica: Persons, Houses, Cities (New York, 1992), part 2. 88 Watkinson, “Useful Knowledge?,” 355. 89 Ibid., 352. 90 Richard D. Brown, Knowledge Is Power, chap. 8; Louise Chipley, “William Bendey, Journalist o f the Early Republic,” Essex Institute H istorical Collections 91 92

93

94

95

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97

123 (1987): 331-47. Watkinson, “Useful Knowledge?,” 359-62,366,370. Papers o fBenjam in Franklin, ed. Leonard W Labaree et al. (New Haven, Conn., 1959- ), 2:380-83. This proposal would soon lead to the formation o f the American Philosophical Society. Nathan O. Hatch, “Elias Smith and the Rise o f Religious Journalism in the Early Republic,” in Printing and Society in Early Am erica, ed. William L. Joyce et al. (Worcester, Mass., 1983), 250-77, and The Democratization o fAmerican Christianity (New Haven, Conn., 1989), chaps. 2 ,3 ,5 ,6 . David Paul Nord, “The Evangelical Origins o f Mass Media in America, 1815-1835,” Journalism Monographs, no. 88 (May 1984); R. Laurence Moore, “Religion, Secularizadon, and the Shaping o f the Culture Industry in Antebellum America,” American Quarterly 41 (June 1989): 216-42; Karl Eric Valois, “To Revolutionize the World: The American Tract Society and the Regeneration o f the Republic, 1825-1877” (Ph.D. diss., University o f Connecticut, 1994). William J. Gilmore, Reading Becomes a Necessity o fL ift: M aterial and Cultural L ife in Rural New England, 1780-1839 (Knoxville, 1989); Richard D. Brown, Knowledge Is Power, 12 -15 ,29°* Richard D. Brown, “The Emergence o f Urban Society in Rural Massachusetts, 1760-1820,” Journalo fAm erican H istory 61 (1974): 29-51; Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in Am erica, ed. Phillips Bradley, 2 vols. (New York, 1945). Bacons general influence, and his impact on Thomas Jefferson and the idea o f “useful knowledge,” is discussed in Joseph E Kett, “Education,” in ThomasJefferson: A Reference Biography, ed. Merrill D. Peterson (New York, 1986), 244. Joseph E Kett and Patricia A. McClung, “Book Culture in Post-Revolutionary Virginia,” Proceedings o f the Am erican A ntiquarian Society 94, part 1 (1984):

97- 14798 American Bible Society, Resolutions o fthe Am erican B ible Society and an Address to the Christian Public, on the subject ofsupplying the Whole World w ith the Sacred Scripture: w ithin a D efinite Period (New York, 1833), 1, 5; Peter J. Wosh, Spreading the Word: The B ible Business in Nineteenth-Century Am erica (Ithaca,

N.Y.,1994). 99 Aaron Bancroft, The Importance o f Education, Illustrated in an Oration, D elivered before the Trustees, Preceptors, and Students o fLeicester Academy, on the 4th o fJu ly 1806 (Worcester, Mass., 1806), it.

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Notes to Pages 112-21 100 Zephaniah S. Moore, Oration on the Anniversary o f the Independence o f the U nited States, 24. 101 Ibid., 14 ,16 -17 . 102 John Adams to John Taylor o f Caroline, Va., (1814], Works o fJohn Adams, 6:518, ÍI 9 103 Ibid., 521. 104 Daniel Webster, in American Oratory or Selectionsfrom the Speeches o fEm inent Americans, compiled by a Member o f the Philadelphia Bar (Philadelphia, 1836). See also Harlow Sheidley, “Sectional Nationalism: The Culture and Politics of the Massachusetts Conservative Elite, 1815-1836” (Ph.D. diss., University of Connecticut, 1990). 105 Webster, in Am erican Oratory, 449. 106 Ibid., 447. 107 Ibid., 444-45. 108 Joseph Story, A Discourse, Pronounced at Cam bridge, before the P hi Beta Kappa Society. . . on the thirty-first day o fAugust, 1826, in ibid., 507-8. 109 The Reverend Samuel Stillman, Feb. 6,1788, quoted in Connecticut Courant (Hartford), Mar. 31, 1788, 2; 0 [rsamus] Cfook] Merrill, The Happiness o f Am erica: An Oration D elivered at Shaftesbury Vermont(Bennington, V t., 1804), 13. The latter reference was provided by Professor Peter Onuf. no Story, A Discourse, Pronounced at Cam bridge, in Am erican Oratory 509.

C HA P T E R FIVE

1 Donald W. Rogers, ed., Voting and the Sp irit o fAm erican Democracy: Essays on the H istory ofVoting and Voting Rights in Am erica (Urbana, 111., 1992); Judith N. Shklar, Am erican Citizenship: The Questfo r Inclusion (Cambridge, Mass., 1991). 2 On the American Tract Society, see David Paul Nord, “The Evangelical Origins o f Mass Media in America, 1815-1835,” Journalism Monographs, no. 88 (May 1984), “Systematic Benevolence: Religious Publishing and the Marketplace in Early Nineteenth-Century America,” in Communications and Change in American Religious H istory ed. Leonard I. Sweet (Grand Rapids, Mich., 1994), and “Religious Reading and Readers in Antebellum America,” paper presented at the meeting o f the Society for Historians o f the Early American Republic, Chapel Hill, N .C ., July 1993; Lawrence Thompson, “The Printing and Publishing Activities o f the American Tract Society from 1825 to 1850,” Papers o f dse Bibliographical Society o fAm erica 35 (1941): 81-114; and Karl Eric Valois, “To Revolutionize the World: The American Tract Society and the Regeneration o f the Republic, 1825-1877” (Ph.D. diss., University o f Connecticut, 1994).

Notes to Pages 121-27 3 James D. Watkinson, “Useful Knowledge?: Concepts, Values, and Access in American Education, 1776-1840,” H istory o f Education Quarterly 30 (1990): 351-70. 4 American Society for the Diffusion o f Useful Knowledge, Prospectus o f the Am erican Libraryfo r Schools and Fam ilies (New York, 1837), 27. The society was established on October 17,1836, and incorporated on May 16,1837. 5 Ibid., tide page. 6 The Pursuit o fKnowledge Under D ifficulties; Illustrated by Anecdotes, vol. 8 o f the Library o f Entertaining Knowledge (Boston, 1831), tide page; American Society for the Diffusion o f Useful Knowledge, Prospectus, 22. 7 Thomas Dick, On the Improvement o fSociety by the D ifusión o fKnowledge:. . . The advantages which would resultfrom a more general diffusion o frational and scientific inform ation among a ll ranks (Glasgow, 1833). This work was reprinted eighteen times in New York, Philadelphia, and Hartford between 1834 and 1854. 8 Ibid., v-x. 9 No. 93 (June 16 ,17 11), in The Spectator, ed. Donald F. Bond, 5 vols. (Oxford, 10 11

12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

1965), i: 397. Pursuit o fK now ledge,!. William Watkins, An Address D elivered Before the M oral Reform Society in Philadelphia, August 6, 1836 (Philadelphia, 1836), 13. Watkins was an African American. See Dorothy Porter, ed., Early Negro W riting 1760-1837 (Boston, 1971), 155-66. Pursuit o fK now ledge,!. Ibid. Ibid., 2-3. [Frederick A. Packard], Thoughts on the Condition and Prospects o f Popular Education in the U nited States (Philadelphia, 1836), 2. Daniel Walker Howe, The P olitical Culture o f the American W hig (Chicago, 1979), 21,23-42,150-80. American Society for the Diffusion o f Useful Knowledge, Prospectus, appendix, 12-13. Watkins, Address D elivered Before the M oral Reform Society, 14. American Society for the Diffusion o f Useful Knowledge, Prospectus, 6 (actually

p. 3). 20 Quoted in Rush Welter, The M ind o fAm erica, 1820-1860 (New York, 1974), 284. 21 Noah Webster, Elements o f UstfidKnowledge, vol. 1 (Hartford, Conn., 1806), iii. 22 William Mavor, Catechism o f Universal History (Boston, 1814), and Catechism o f GeneralKnowledge (Boston, 1815), tide pages. 23 Address, delivered by Charles W Peale, to the Corporation and Citizens o f Philadelphia, on the 18th day o fJu ly, in Academy H all, Fourth Street (Phila­ delphia, 1816), 9 -11,14 .

231

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Notes to Pages i27-)2 24 Joel J. Orosz, Curators and Culture: The Museum Movement in America, 1740-1870 (Tuscaloosa, Ala., 1990), 130 ,132,119 ,175. 25 Ibid., 155,157; David Madsen, The N ational U niversity: Enduring Dream o fthe USA (Detroit, 1966), $8-63. Madsen explains that Congress accepted the Smithson bequest precisely because it promoted a broad diffusion o f informa­ tion instead o f a centralized, elite national university. 26 Donald M. Scott, “ Print and the Public Lecture System, 1840-1860,” in Printing and Society in Early Am erica, ed. William L. Joyce, David D. Hall, Richard D. Brown, and John B. Hench (Worcester, Mass., 1983), 278-99. See also Christopher Yong-Min Chi, “Diffusing Useful Knowledge in Worcester and Concord: The Early Lyceum Movement in Two Massachusetts Towns,” honors thesis, Harvard University, 1993; Katherine M . Grant, “The Lyceum Movement in America, 1826-1860” (Ph.D. diss. in progress, Yale University). 27 Scott, “Print and the Public Lecture System.” Mary Kupiec Cayton notes that these were the kinds o f audiences Emerson particularly sought (Emersons Emergence: S e lfand Society in the Transformation o f New England, 1800-184 j [Chapel Hill, N .C ., 1989], 150-51). 28 Horace Mann, 1848 report, L ife and Works o fHorace M ann, ed. Mary Mann, vol. 3, Annual Reports on Education (Boston, 1868), 687. 29 [Samuel Kettell], “Proceedings o f the Society for the Diffusion o f Useless Knowledge,” in Timothy Titterwell, Yankee Notions: A M edley (Boston, 1838), 183,186. 30 “Popular Lectures,” in P ills fo r the People (Boston, 1844), 34. Professor Ronald J. Zboray generously called my attention to this work. 31 Ibid., 28, 29,32. 32 Ibid., 30-32. 33 “Popular Lectures,” 32,35,36,38,39. 34 See Stuart M. Blumin, The Emergence o fthe M iddle Class: Social Experience in the Am erican C ity 1760-1900 (Cambridge, 1989); Gordon S. Wood, The Radicalism o fthe American Revolution (New York, 1992); and Ronald J. Zboray, A Fictive People: American Economic Development and the Am erican Reading Public (New York, 1993). 35 Robert A. Gross, “Much Instruction from Litde Reading: Books and Libraries in Thoreaus Concord,” Proceedings ofthe Am erican Antiquarian Society 97, part i (1987): 129-88; Jesse H. Shera, Foundations ofthe Public Library: The O rigins o f the Public Library Movement in New England, 16 2 9 -18 (Chicago, 1949). 36 David Kaser, A Book fo r a Sixpence: The Circulating Library in Am erica (Pittsburgh, 1980), 44-45; Shera, Foundations ofthe Public Library y j Quoted in Mary [Peabody] Mann, Lifo o fHorace M ann, 2d ed. (Boston, 1865), 1338 Works o fHorace M ann, 3:44,45. 39 American Society for the Diffusion o f Useful Knowledge, Prospectus, 11.

Notes to Paga 132—42 40 Kaser, A Bookfo r a Sixpence, 64-81,92-102; Zboray, A Fictive People, 74. 41 John M. Bernhisel, broadside circular letter to “Authors, Editors and Publishers o f the United States,” Nov. 12, 1850, Broadside Collection, American Antiquarian Society, Worcester, Mass. As early as 1816, die constitution o f the sute o f Indiana included provision for public county libraries. 42 Works o fHorace M ann, 3:568-69,562. 43 Quoted in Frederick Rudolph, ed., Essays on Education in the Early Republic (Cambridge, Mass., 1965), xv. 44 DeWitt Clinton, “Address,” 1809, in Joseph Lancaster and the M onitorial School Movement, ed. Carl F. Kaesde (New York, 1973), 156-57. 45 Address o f the Committee fo r Promoting the Royal Lancasterian System fo r the Education o fthe Poor (n.p., [1810]), 2, box 15, folder 10, Joseph Lancaster Papers, American Antiquarian Society, Worcester, Mass. 46 Education on the Plan o fM r. Lancaster (Nottingham, 1810), broadside, box 15, folder 10, ibid. 47 Proposalfor the Establishm ent o fSchools in die City o fGlasgow on die Plan o fM r. Joseph Lancaster (Glasgow, 1810), broadside, box 15, folder 10, ibid. As late as 1826, Sir John Sinclair wrote that in Scotland even though popular moral and religious education was proper, liteucy could be subversive because “the great mass o f people may thus be infected with principles destructive to the church and sute.” Quoted in R. A. Houston, Scottish Literacy and Scottish Identity: Illiteracy and Society in Scotland and Northern England, 1600-1800 (Cambridge, 1985), 231. 48 Address o fthe Committeefo r Promoting the RoyalLancasterian System, 1. 49 Clinton, “Address,” in Kaestle, Joseph Lancaster, 157-59. 50 “Constitutional Provisions Respecting Education,” Am erican Journal o f Education 17 (Sept. 1867): 81-124, supplies a compilation o f constitutional pro­ visions involving education in all o f the sutes through 1866. It was produced under the supervision o f U.S. Commissioner o f Education Henry Barnard. 51 Ibid., 105. 52 Anonymous letter reported in Common School Advocate 1, no. 7 (July 1837); “Common Education Should be the Best Education,” Connecticut Common SchoolJournalz, no. 10 (Mar. 1,1840): 152. 53 John L. Cheney, Jr., ed., North Carolina Government, ifä -ip 7 p :A N arrative and Statistical H istory (Raleigh, N .C ., 1981), 815. 54 Charles L. Coon, The Beginnings o f Public Education in North Carolina: A Documentary History, 1770 -18 4 0 ,2 vols. (Raleigh, N .C ., 1908), i:xxxix. 55 In ibid., 54. 56 Gov. David Stone, annual message, 1810, in ibid., 63. 57 Gov. Benjamin Smith, annual message, 1811, in ibid., 80. 58 Jeremiah Battle, “Education in Edgecombe County,” [1812], North Carolina University M agazine, A pt. 1861, in ibid., 70.

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234 Notes to Pages 14}-49 59 A. D. Murphey et al., repon on “Public Instruction,” Dec. 19,18 16 , in ibid., 60 61 62 63 64 6$ 66 67 68

69 70 71

72 73 74 75 76 77

10 8 ,143- 45Ibid., 171-72,175. Ibid., 188-89. Charles L. Coon, North Carolina Schools and Academies, 1790-1840: A Documentary History (Raleigh, N .C ., 1915), xl-xlv, xlvii—lii. John M. Walker, repon on education, D ec 8, 1817, in Coon, Beginning o f Public Education, 1:131-52. N .C. Senate Comminee Repon on Education, Dec. 1824, in ibid., 227-28. Gov. Gabriel Holmes, message to the legislature, 1824, in ibid., 217; action of N .C. House o f Commons, in ibid., 223. Edgecombe County appeal for free schools, Raleigh Register, Dec. 3, 1824, in ibid., 244-4$. N .C. House o f Commons, repon on a system o f general education, Nov. 23, 1825, and actions o f the state pursuant thereto, in ibid., 268-82. Roben Poner, regarding proposed “Political College o f North Carolina,” Jan. 22,1827, in ibid., 313; “Upton,” Fayetteville Observer, n.d., and Raleigh Register, Oct. 26,1827, in ibid., 357-59. N .C. House o f Commons, Comminee on Education, repon on bill to abolish the literary fund, Dec. 31,1827, in ibid., 377. North Carolina Literary Board Repon, Feb. 1,1827, in ibid., 348-49. Nathan O. Hatch, The Democratization o fAmerican Christianity (New Haven, Conn., 1989), 45-46, and The Sacred Cause o fLiberty: Republican Thought and the M illennium in Revolutionary New England (New Haven, Conn., 1977), 146-56. Lener in Raleigh Register, Nov. 9,1829, in Coon, Beginning o fPublic Education, 1:432. Ibid., 432-33. Quoted in [Thomas Cooper], “Agrarian and Education Systems,” Southern Review (Charleston, S.C.) 6, no. 11 (Aug. 1830): 11. Thomas Cooper, Lectures on the Elements o fPolitical Economy (Columbia, S.C ., 1826), 267-68. [Cooper], “Agrarian and Education Systems,” 16 ,17 . On Georgia, see Keith Whitescarver, “Creating Citizens for the Republic: Education in Georgia, 1776-1810,” Journal o f the Early Republic 13 (Winter

1993): 455- 79 78 Anides in Raleigh Register, Jan. 14 and Apr. 6, 1839, in Coon, Beginning o f Public Education, 2:897-99. 79 Carl F. Kaestle, P illars o f the Republic: Common Schools and Am erican Society, 1780-1860 (New York, 1983), 210 -n . 80 Henry B. Stanton, Ultraists— Conservatives—Reformers:An Address delivered be-

Notes to Pages149-57 fin e the Adelphic Union Society o f W illiams College, August 20,1850 (New York, 1850), 33- 3481 [Packard], Thoughts on the Condition and Prospects o fPopular Education, 5, 6, 10 ,14 . 82 Ibid., 23,24,26-29. 83 Wise address, Mar. 9, 1844, in N iles N ational Register, containing Political, H istorical, Geographical, Scientifical, Statistical, Econom ical, and Biographical Documents, Essays and Facts: together w ith Notices o fthe Arts and M anufactures, Record o fthe Events o fthe Times 16 (Mar.-Sept. 1844): 25-26. 84 Theodore Parker, “The Public Education o f the People,” address delivered to the Onandoga Teachers’ Institute, Syracuse, N.Y., Oct. 4, 1849, in Speeches, Addresses, and OccasionalSermons, 3 vols. (New York, 1864), 2:139. 85 Horace Mann, 1847 report, Works o fHorace M ann, 3:626-27. 86 Horace Mann, 1839 report, ibid., 6. 87 N iles N ationalRegister, 26 (Mar.-Sept. 1844): 25. 88 Horace Mann, 1848 report, Works o fHorace M ann, 3:668. 89 N iles N ationalRegister, 26 (Mar.-Sept. 1844): 25. 90 Horace Mann, 1839 report, Works o fHorace M ann, 3:10.

C H A P T E R SIX

1 Chilton Williamson, Am erican Storage: From Property to D em ocracy, 1760-1860 (Princeton, N .J., i960). Marc Kruman shows that although landowning re­ quirements were dropped, twelve states preserved requirements for some form o f property ownership or the payment o f some form o f taxes prior to i860 (“The Second American Party System and the Transformation o f Revolutionary Republicanism,” Journal o fthe Early Republic 12 [Winter 1992]: 517-18). 2 Noah Webster’s First Edition o fAn American D ictionary ofthe English Language, 2 vols. (New York, 1828; reprint, San Francisco, 1967), 1:38. 3 Quoted in Susan Strane, A W hole-Souled Woman: Prudence Crandall and the Education o fBlack Women (New York, 1990), no. 4 Ibid.; Websters First Edition o fAn American D ictionary, 1:38. 5 William Harper, Anniversary O ration: D elivered. . . in the Representative H all, on the 9th o fDecember, (Washington, D .C ., 1836), 9 ,10 . 6 Ibid., ii, 12. Harper claimed that classical Greek and Roman experience demon­ strated that slavery fostered energy and character within the master class. Ibid., pp. 14-15. 7 William Goodell, Our N ational Charters: For the M illions (New York, 1857), 15m According to the naturalization law o f March 26,1790, any “(tee white person” could qualify for citizenship. Annals o f the Congress o f the U nited States: The

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2)6

Notes to Pages 137-61 D ebata and Proceeding in the Congress o fthe U nited States; w ith an Appendix, containing Im portant State Papen and Public Documents, and a ll the Laws o fa Public N ature; w ith a Copious Index, comp. Joseph Gales, 42 vols. (Washington, D .C ., 1834-56), 2:2205-6. 8 Judith Apter Klinghoffer and Lois Elkis, “‘The Petticoat Electors’: Women’s Suffrage in New Jersey, 1776-1807,” Journal o f the Early Republic 12 (Summer 9

10

11 12 13

14 15 16 17

1992): 159-93. Proceeding o fthe Womans Rights Convention, held at the Broadway Tabernacle, in the City o fNew York, on Tuesday and Wednesday, Sept. 6th and 7th, 18% (New York, 1853), 64: Judge [Thomas] Hcrttell, Remarks com prising in substanceJudge HertteU’s Argument in the House o fAssembly o fthe State o fNeto-York, in the session o f18)7, in support ofthe b ill to restore to m arried women mThe Right o fProperty ” as guarantied by the constitution o fthis state (New York, 1839), 52-53. Dumas Malone, The Public L ift o f Thomas Cooper, 1783-1839 (New Haven, Conn., 1926); [Thomas Cooper], “Agrarian and Education Systems,” Southern Review (Charleston, S.C.) 6, no. 11 (Aug. 1830): 21,29. Thomas Cooper, Lectures on the Elements ofPóU tiad Economy (Columbia, S.C ., 1826), 267. Ibid., 268. George Fredrickson, quoted in Rogers M . Smith, “‘One United People’: Second-Class Female Citizenship and the American Quest for Community,” YaleJournal o fLaw and the Hum anities 1 (1989): 250-51. New England Artisan and Laboring M an’s Repository (Pawtucket, R.I.), Mar. 15, 1832,2-3. Ibid. Ibid., 3. To the Citizens and Legislators o fthe U nited States of'A m erica (n.p., Feb. 22,1833),

3- 4 . 18 Edward Everett, “The Advantage o f Useful Knowledge to Workingmen,” intro­ ductory lecture in the Franklin lecture series, Boston, Nov. 14, 1831, in Importance o f Practical Education and Useful Knowledge (New York, 1859), 160-61. 19 Edward Everett, “On the Importance o f Scientific Knowledge, to Practical Men, and on the Encouragements to its Pursuit,” first delivered to a mechanics’ institute in 1827, in ibid., 99. 20 Proceedings o f meeting o f the New England Association o f Farmers, Mechanics, and Other Workingmen, Boston, Feb. 16,1832, in New England Artisan and Laboring M ens Repository (Pawtucket, R.I.), Feb. 23,1832, 2. 21 New England Artisan and LaboringM an's Repository (Boston), Jan. 3,18 33,1. 22 John B. Eldredge, address to the convention o f the New England Association o f Fanners, Mechanics, and Other Workingmen, Boston, Sept. 6,1832, in New EnglandArtisan and Workingmens Repository (Providence, R.I.), Oct. 18,1832,2.

Notes to Pages 161-66 23 “Essays on Public Education,” nos. 5 and 6, in New EngfandArtisan and Laboring M ans Repository (Boston), May 30,1833,1. [William Heighton], An Address to the Members o f the Trade Societies, and to the Working Classes G enerally:. . . By a Fellow-Labourer (Philadelphia, 1827), argued that positive change could only be achieved by “th e developement of intellect and th e diffusion of knowl­ edge ” (42-43) (reference courtesy o f Professor Bruce M. Laurie). 24 In New EngfandArtisan and Workingmen’s Repository (Providence, R.I.), Oct. 18, 1832, 2. Eldredge’s arguments and rhetoric anticipate Seth Luther’s Address on the O rigin and Progress o fAvarice, and its deleterious effects on human happiness, w ith a proposed rem edyfor the coundess evils resultingfrom an inordinate desirefor wealth (Boston, 1834). 25 New England Artisan and Laboring M en’s Repository (Pawtucket, R.I.), Feb. 2, 1832.2. 16 New England Artisan and Laboring M an’s Repository (Boston), Apr. 4 , 1833Í 2. Certainly this had been William Heightons message in Philadelphia a few years earlier. 27 “Education,” Workingmen’s Press (New Bedford, Mass.), reprinted in New EngfandArtisan and Workingmens Repository (Providence, R.I.), Sept. 6,1832,4. 28 Jacob Frieze, editorial, New England Artisan and Laboring M en’s Repository (Pawtucket, R.I.), Mar. 22,1832,3. 29 For example, see Theodore Parker, “The Education o f the Laboring Classes,” address to American Institute for Instruction, Aug. 1841, reprinted in 1843, in Social Classes in a Republic, ed. Samuel A. Eliot (Boston, [1911]), 101. 30 New EngfandArtisan and Laboring M ens Repository (Pawtucket, R.I.), Apr. 19, 1832.2. 31 Letter, New EngfandArtisan and Laboring M aris Repository (Boston), Dec. 20, 1832.2. 32 Resolutions o f New England Association o f Farmers, Mechanics, and Other Workingmen, Boston, Sept. 7, 1832, New England Artisan and Workingmen’s Repository (Providence, R.I.), Oct. 11,18 32,3. 33 34 3$ 36 37 38 39

Ibid. New England Artisan and Laboring M aris Repository (Boston), Nov. 8,1832, 2. Ibid., Apr. 4,1833,2. Quoted in ibid., Nov. 15,1832,4. George W. Light account, in ibid., Nov. 8,1832,2. Ibid., Nov. 15,1832,4. Luther, Address on die O rigin and Progress o f Avarice, 13; New England Association o f Farmers, Mechanics, and Other Workingmen, Proceeding o fthe W orking-Men’s Convention, Oct. 2,1833 (n.p., n.d.), 2. The same kind o f views were expressed in New EngfandArtisan and Laboring M aris Repository (Boston), Apr. 4,1833,2. 40 Luther, Address on the O rigin and Progress o fAvarice, 35.

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238 Notes to Pages 166-73 41 42 43 44

45 46 47 48 ' 49 50 51 52 53

54 55

56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68

Ibid., 35-36. Parker, “Education o f the Laboring Classes,” 91. Ibid., 94. Williamson, Am erican Suffrage, 257, 268; Marvin E. Gettleman, The Dorr Rebellion: A Study in Am erican Radicalism , 1833-1849 (New York, 1973), chaps. 6, 7; David Montgomery, Citizen W orker The Experience o f Workers in the U nited States with Democracy and the Free M arket during the Nineteenth Century (Cambridge, 1993), chap. 1, esp. 14-25. U.S. Constitution, art. 1, sec. 2,8. Cherokee Phoenix (New Echota), Apr. 17,18 28 ,1. Cherokee constitution, an. 6, no. 10, in ibid., Mar. 6 ,18 28 ,1. Am erican Societyfo r Promoting the C ivilization and General Improvement o fthe Indian Tribes in the U nited States, First A nnual Report (New Haven, Conn., 1824), 3 ,4 ,5 ,10 ,16 . William Jenks to Jedidiah Morse, Boston, Nov. 17,1823, in ibid., 39. Cherokee Phoenix (New Echota), July 23,1828,1. Ibid., Feb. 18,1829,2. Ibid., Feb. 8,1834, i. Joseph Lancaster, Letters on N ational Subjects, auxiliary to U niversal Education, and Scientific Knowledge (Washington, D .C ., 1820), 39; Cherokee Phoenix (New Echota), Aug. 13,1828,3. Cherokee Phoenix (New Echota), Jan. 7,18 29 ,2. Peter A. Jay expressed the view that as aliens, “Indian tribes” were “no more en­ titled to vote in our elections, than Englishmen, Frenchmen, or other foreign­ ers.” In William Yates, Rights o fColored M en to Suffrage, Citizenship and T rial by Ju ry: beinga book o ffacts, arguments and authorities, historical notices and sketches o fdebates—w ith notes (Philadelphia, 1838), 21. Ibid., 10. Mr. Briggs, quoted in ibid., 32. Ibid., 13 ,14 ,16 . Ibid., 17,18 . Ibid., 20. Ibid., 25-26. Ibid., 12. Ibid., 17. Ibid., 34. See also Harry J. Carman, ed., Jesse Buel, A gricultural Reform er (New York, 1951). Yates, Rights ofC olored M en to Storage, 23. Ibid., 29. Colored American (New York), Apr. 1,18 37,2 . Philip S. Foner and George E. Walker, eds., Proceedings o f the Black State Conventions, 1840-1863,2 vols. (Philadelphia, 1979); 1:130.

Notes to Pages 173-81 69 M inutes and Proceedings o f the First A nnual Convention o f the People o f C olour,. . . i n . . . Philadelphia, Ju n e6 -11, /#?/(Philadelphia, 1831),4-5. 70 See Foner and Walker, introduction to Proceedings o fthe Black State Conventions. 71 An Account o fthe Netv-Haven City M eeting and Resolution, with Recommenda­ tions ofthe College, and Strictures upon the Doings o fNew Haven (n.p., 1831), 23. The author o f this work may have been Simeon S. Jocelyn, a white clergyman who ministered to a local black congregation. 72 Colored Am erican (New York), May 27,1837,4, July 8,1837,4, Mar. 29,1838,4, Sept. 16 ,1837,3, Dec. 2,18 37,3, Sept. 2 ,18 37 ,1, Feb. 3,1838,2, Oct. 14 ,1837,3, Aug. 12,1837,4, June 3,1837,4. The activities o f African American voluntary as­ sociations were reported routinely in the ColoredAm erican. 73 An Address to the Public on the subject o fthe A frican School, lately established un­ der the care o f the Synod o f New-York and New-Jersey, By the Directors o f the Institution (New York, 1816), 3,4 ,6 -8 . Ironically, it was this synod that ordained the Reverend Samuel T. Cornish, who became a pioneer in African American journalism and a leader in the movement for equal rights. 74 Report o f the Proceeding o f the Formation o f the A frican Education Society, Washington, Dec. 28,1829 (Washington, D..C., 1830), 12,3. 75 Ibid., 3,12. 76 Foner and Walker, Proceedings o f the Black State Conventions, 1:190, 281, 2:65. After the Fugitive Slave Act o f 1850 put free blacks at risk, their interest in emi­ gration to Haiti and Canada increased. 77 Ibid., 1:190. 78 John Quincy Adams, quoted in Leonard L. Richards, The U fe and Times o f Congressman John Quincy Adams (New York, 1986), 130; U.S. Constitution, amend. 1. 79 Mitchell Snay, Gospel o f D isunion: Religjon and Separatism in the Antebellum South (Cambridge, 1993), chap. 3, esp. 88-96. See also Roben Manson Myers, ed., The Children o f P ride: A True Story o f Georgia and the C iv il War (New Haven, Conn., 1972), n -17 . Charles Colcock Jones was the author o f two ma­ jor works aimed at slave instruction: A Catechism o f Scripture D octrine and Practice, fo r Fam ilies and Sabbath Schools designed also fo r the oral instruction o f Colored Persons (Savannah, Ga., [1837]) and The Religious Instruction o f the Negroes in the U nited States (Savannah, Ga., 1842). 80 Charles L. Coon, The Beginnings o fPublic Education in North Carolina:A Docu­ mentary History, 1790—18 4 0 ,2 vols. (Raleigh, N .C ., 1908), 1:17$, 287,344,479. 81 Ibid., 484. 82 Repon from the Comminee on Slaves, etc., in Senate, Dec. 24,1831, in ibid., 505. 83 Janet Duitsman Cornelius, When I Can Read M y Title C lear Literacy, Slavery, and Religion in the Antebellum South (Columbia, S.C ., 1991), 37,54—55. 84 Quoted in ibid., $6.

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Notes to Pages 182-89 85 Ibid., 56-6}. 86 Proceeding o fthe M eeting in Charleston, S .C ., M ay 13 -13 , 1843, on the Religious Instruction o fthe Negroes (Charleston, S.C ., 1845), 9. 87 Ibid., 35-36,49. 88 Ibid., 13-24. 89 Ibid., 35. 90 Ibid., 65. 91 Cornelius, When I Can Read, 9, estimates that slave literacy reached 10 percent o f the slave population, although she does not define “literacy” precisely. Reading was probably much more widespread than writing. 92 Jan Lewis, “The Republican Wife: Virtue and Seduction in the Early Republic,” W illiam and M ary Q uarterly 3d ser., 44 (1987): 689-721: Linda K. Kerber, Women o f the Republic: Intellect and Ideology in Revolutionary America (Chapel Hill, N .C ., 1980), chap. 7. 93 Horace Mann, A few Thoughts on the Powers and D uties ofW omen: Two Lectures (Syracuse, N.Y., 1853), 131,125. 94 Ibid., 105-6, iv, 91. 95 Ibid., 51. 96 Proceeding o fthe Womans Rights Convention, 6. 97 Douglass speech, May 24, 1886, The Frederick Douglass Papers, ed. John W. Blassingame and John R. McKivigan, ser. 1 (New Haven, Conn., 1979- ), 5:255, 262. 98 Proceeding o fthe Seventh N ational Womans Rights Convention, held in New York C ity at the Broadway Tabernacle, on Tuesday and Wednesday Nov. 29th and 26th, 1836(New York, 1856), 25. 99 Address o f M rs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, delivered at Seneca Falls & Rochester, N .Y .,Ju ly 19th & August 2d, 1848 (New York, 1870), 10 -11. 100 Proceeding o fthe N ational Womens Rights Convention, held at Cleveland, Ohio, o n . . . October9th, 6th, and7th, 1893(Cleveland, 1854), 56. 101 “Immigration and Education,” Common SchoolJournal 14, no. 17 (Sept. 1852): 267. Ralph Waldo Emerson expressed similar views in “Woman,” in M iscellanies (Boston, 1884), 353. 102 Susan B. Anthony anticipated that this might happen. See Ellen Carol DuBois, “Outgrowing the Compact o f the Fathers: Equal Rights, Woman Suffrage, and the United Sutes Constitution, 1820-1878,'HJou rnalo fAm erican H istory 74, no. 3 (Dec. 1987): 860. 103 Horace Bushnell, Womens Stffrage; The Reform Against Nature (New York, 1869; 2d ed., New York, 1870), 34,35,38 ,42,44,70. 104 Quoted in Yates, Rights o fColored Men to Storage, 16. 105 “Present & Future o f the Colored Race in America,” May 15,1863, Frederick Douglass Papers, ser. 1,3:578-79. r 106 Herttell, Remarks comprising in substanceJudge H erttells Argument, 9 ,16 ,20 ,23.

Notes to Pages189-96 107 Speech o fJohn Quincy Adams, o fMassachusetts, Upon the Right o fthe People, M en and Women, to Petition; on the Freedom o fSpeech and o fD ebate. . . relatingto the Annexation o f Texas to this Union (Washington, D .C ., 1838), June 16-Juty 7, 1838,76-77. 108 Douglass’ M onthly (Rochester, N.Y.) 2 (July 1859): 112. 109 Ibid. 3 (Nov. i860): 361. n o Ibid. 4 (Nov. 1861): 557. h i Frederick Douglass Papers, ser. 1,3:5500. 112 Joan Hoff, Law, Gender, and Injustice: A Legal H istory o f U .S. Women (New York, 1991), 149-50. 113 Quoted in Ellen Carol DuBois, Feminism and Suffrage: The Emergence o f an Independent Women’s Movement in Am erica, 1848-1869 (Ithaca, N.Y., 1978), 59. Much o f the following discussion relies on DuBois’s study. 114 Ibid., 67. 115 Ibid., 88, 96; Robert R. Dykstra, Bright Radical Star: Black Freedom and White Supremacy on the Hawkeye Frontier (Cambridge, Mass., 1993), 216-37. 116 Ibid., 96. 117 Ibid., 87-88. 118 Ibid., no, in , 124. 119 Ibid., 97 . 98 120 Frederick Douglass, quoting or paraphrasing Elizabeth Catty Stanton, in “We Welcome the Fifteenth Amendment,” address delivered to American Equal Rights Association meeting, presided over by Stanton and Susan B. Anthony, New York City, May 27,1869, Frederick Douglass Papers, ser. 1,4:219. 121 U.S. Constitution, amend. 15. 122 DuBois, “Outgrowing the Compact o f the Fathers,” 860; Norma Basch, “Reconstructing Female Citizenship: Minor v. Happersett,” in The Constitu­ tion, Law, and American L ife: C riticalAspects o fthe Nineteenth-Century Experi­ ence, ed. Donald G . Nieman (Athens, Ga., 1992), 52-66. 123 Basch, “Reconstructing Female Citizenship,” 57, notes that by 1870 women were already allowed to vote in the Wyoming and Utah territories, and DuBois, Feminism and Suffrage, 84, points out that beginning in 1859, women were al­ lowed to vote in Kansas school district elections. 124 U.S. Constitution, amend. 19. 125 Kim Ezra Schienbaum, quoted in Judith N . Shklar, American Citizenship: The Questfo r Inclusion (Cambridge, Mass., 1991), 26.

E P I L O GU E

i For example, see William Celis III, “Study Says H alf in U.S. Can’t Read or Handle Arithmetic,” New York Times, Sept. 9 ,19 9 3,1.

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Notes to Page 196 2 National Commission on Excellence in Education, A Nation at Risk: The Im perative fo r Educational Reform, report to the secretary o f education (Washington, D .C ., 1983). 3 Among the works that support these observations are R. C . Anderson et al., Becoming a Nation o f Readers: The Report o f the Commission on Reading (Washington, D .C ., 1985); James Atlas, Battle o f die Books (New York, 1990), and The Book Wars (Knoxville, 1990); Benjamin R. Barber, An Aristocracy o f Everyone: The P o litia o fEducation and the Future o fAm erica (New York, 1992); Paul Berman, D ebating P. C .: The Controversy over P olitical Correctness on College Campusa (New York, 1992); Allan Bloom, The Closing o f the Am erican M ind (New York, 1987); J. S. Chali, C . Snow, et al., Fam ilia and Literacy, report to the National Institute o f Education (Washington, D .C ., 1982); Changa in Political Knowledge and A ttituda, 1969-1976: Selected Results from die Second N ational Assessments o f Citizenship and Social Studia (Denver, 1978); Dinesh d’Souza, Illib era l Education: The P o litia o f Race and Sex on Campus (New York, 1991); Jean Bethke Elshtain, Democracy on Trial (New York, 1995); Paul Gagnon and the Bradley Commission on History in the Schools, eds., H istorical Literacy: The Casefo r H istory in American Education (Boston, 1989); Darryl J. Giess and Barbara Herrnstein, eds., The P o litia o f Liberal Education (Durham, N.C., 1992); Gerald Graff, Beyond the Culture Wars: How Teaching the Conflicts Can Revitalize American Education (New York, 1992); E. D. Hirsch, Jr., Cultural Literacy: What Every American Needs to Know (Boston, 1987); Christopher Jencks et al., Inequality: A Reassessment o fdie Effects o fFam ily and Schooling in Am erica (New York, 1972); Michael B. Katz, Reconstructing Am erican Education (Cambridge, Mass., 1987); David T. Kearns and Denis P. Doyle, W inning the Brain Race: A Bold Plan to M ake Our Schools Com petitive (San Francisco, 1988); Jonathan Kozol, Illiterate Am erica (New York, 1985); National Center on Education and the Economy, Am ericas Choice: H igh Skills or Low Wages, report o f the Commission on the Skills o f the American Workforce (Rochester, N.Y., 1990); National Education Goals Panel, N ational Education Goals Report: Building a Nation o f Learners (Washington, D .C ., 1993); Francis Oakley, Community o f Learning: The Am erican College and the Liberal Arts Tradition (New York, 1992); Diane Ravitch, The Schools We Deserve: Reflections on the Educational Crises o fOur Times (New York, 198$); Diane Ravitch and Chester E. Finn, Jr., What Do Our Seventeen-Year-Olds Know?: A Report o f die First N ational Assessment o f H istory and Literature (New York, 1987); Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr., The D isuniting o fAm erica: Reflections on a M ulticultural Society (New York, 1992); Page Smith, K illin g die Sp irit: H igher Education in America (New York, 1990); Thomas Sowell, Inside Education: The D ecline, the Deception, and the Dogmas (New York, 1993); and Joel Spring, Educating die WorkerC itizen: The Social Economic, and P oliticalFoundations o fEducation (New York, 1980).

Notes to Pages 196-207 4 Bob Herbert, “A Nation o f Nitwits,” New York Times, Mar. 1,1995, A19. 5 Ravitch and Finn, What Do Our Seventeen-Year-Olds Know?; Hirsch, Cultural Literacy. 6 Barber, An Aristocracy o f Everyone; Schlesinger, D isuniting o f Am erica. John Dewey’s Democracy and Education (1916) was a seminal work whose influence is traced in Robert B. Westbrook, John Dewey and Am erican Democracy (Ithaca, N.Y., 1991). 7 National Center on Education and the Economy, Am erica’s Choice; Kearns and Doyle, W inning the Brain Race. 8 [Frederick A. Packard], Thoughts on the Condition and Prospects o f Popular Education in the U nited States (Philadelphia, 1836), 5,10. 9 Kearns and Doyle, W inning the Brain Race, 4. 10 Ravitch and Finn, What Do Our Seventeen-Year-Olds Know?, 200,252. 11 Jean Bethke Elshtain discusses the civic consequences o f one form o f multicul­ tural education in Democracy on Trial, chap. 3, esp. 77-84. 12 A generation ago, Vance Packard called attention to these issues in widely read popular works. See Daniel Horowitz, Vance Packard and Am erican Social Criticism (Chapel Hill, N .C ., 1994). 13 Both Vance Packard and John Kenneth Galbraith {The A ffluent Society [1958]) spoke o f private opulence and public poverty. Horowitz, Vance Packard, 124, 128. Here Bernard de Mandeville’s eighteenth-century observation that private vice promoted public virtue seems to be inverted. 14 In The Waste M akers (i960), Packard said that commercialization was “becom­ ing so all pervasive that at times it seems to be getting into the air.” Horowitz, Vance Packard, 126. Insofar as the commercial sector fills the airwaves with elec­ tronic signals, Packard’s observation is literally true. 15 For example, see “Boom Vox,” New Yorker, Feb. 22,1993, 6-8. See also Daniel Yankelovich, Coming to Public Judgm ent: M aking Democracy Work in a Complex W orld (Syracuse, N.Y., 1991). 16 Roger Sherman, quoted by James Madison, Philadelphia, May 31,1787, in The Records o fthe Federal Convention o f1787, rev. ed., ed. Max Farrand, 4 vols. (New Haven, Conn., 1937), 1:48. 17 The journalist-as-citizen role model was suggested by Professor Kenneth Moynihan o f Assumption College, Worcester, Massachusetts, at the American Antiquarian Society, 1992-93.

243

In d ex Abbeville, S.C ., 181 Academy o f Natural Sciences (Phila­ delphia), 127 Adams, John, 45-48, 51, 52, 54-58,61, 6 4 -6 6 ,7 5 ,77 -8 2 ,8 9 ,9 0 ,10 5 -8 , 114,199; on popular citizenship, 46, 47, 66,216 (n. 84); “A Dissertation on the Canon and Feudal Law,” 54-58; on education, 55, 56 ,7 1,7 2, 78,80, 8 1,8 5 ,9 6 ,10 0 ,10 1,113; on bee speech, 56, 57,86; on religious establishment, 6 8 ,79,8 2,106 ; and Massachusetts constitution, 79 Adams, John Quincy, 72,179 ,18 9 Adams, Samuel, 62, 6 3,6 7,8 9 ,9 0 ,10 0 Adams, Reverend Zabdiel, 100 Addison, Joseph, 44-45 African Americans, xv, 41,155-57,159, 16 7 ,170 -8 3,19 0 ,19 8 , 239 (n. 79); African American reformers, 154, 173-75; voting rights, 170-73. 188-90,194; sute conventions, 173, 174; African American women, 175; voluntary associations, 175. See also Citizenship; Education African Education Society, 177,178 African slaves, 50 Alabama, 182 Alexander, Governor Nathaniel, 142 Almanacs, 108,109 American Bible Society, 112 ,1x 3,117 American Colonization Society, 177 American Equal Rights Association, 190 American Philosophical Society, 93, 9 4 ,117 , 1 34

American Society for Promoting the Civilization and General Improve­ ment o f the Indian Tribes in the United Sutes, 168 American Society for the Diffusion o f Useful Knowledge, 121,124 -26 American Sunday School Union, 124 American Tract Society, h i , 121 Anglican Church. See Church o f England Anthony, Susan B., 191,193 Anti-intellectualism, 77-78,166 Aristode, 2 ,4 Arkansas, 139,141 Arkwright, Richard, 121 Asians, 157,198 Baltimore, 139 Baptists, 5,17 , 27, 82,92. See also Dissenters; Religion Barclay, Reverend Henry, 41 Barnum, Phineas T , 127 Bentley, Reverend William, no Berkeley, Governor William, 27 Bible, 6,46; reading of, 3 ,6 ,10 4 ,10 6 , 112,135,14 9 ,16 9 ,18 0 -8 2 . See also Education; Religion Bill o f Rights (British), 16, 28 Bill o f Rights, U .S., 87,90. See also Constitution, U.S.: First Amendment Blair, John, 182 Blasphemy, 13 ,17 Blount, Charles, 13,18 Bolingbroke, Henry St. John, Vis­ count, 45

M5

246

Index Book-burning, 14,15, 27. See also Censorship Book o fCommon Prayer, 6 Boston, 53; Whigs, 53,58,63; politics, 53,62-63 Boston Committee o f Correspon­ dence, 62,63 Boston Gazette, 62 Boston Massacre oration, 61 "Boston Pamphlet,” 62 Boston Tea Party, 63 Boucher, Jonathan, 64 Boyle, Roben, 74 Braintree, Mass., 61 Braintree Resolves, 57 Branch, Governor John, 144 British constitution, 64 Brown, Josiah Henry, 1,17 , 70 Brown, Nicholas Alvyn, 5, 7 ,7 1 Buel, Jesse, 172 Burgh, James, 31-33,47, 216 (n. 84), 221 (n. 88) Burroughs, Stephen, 132 Bushnell, Reverend Horace, 188 Calvinists, 98,124 Career, Landon, 69 Carolinas, 27. See also North Carolina; South Carolina Castiglione, Baldassare: Book o fthe Courtier, 3 Catholics, 15 ,17 , 32 Censor, 61 Censorship, 7 -14 ,16 ,17 , 27, 28 Chalmers, James, 64 Charity schools, 32,34, 35,40,41. See also Education Charles I, 6, 55 Charles II, 11,13 ,14 Charleston, S.C ., 182 Cheke, John: The H urt o fSedition, 4

Cherokee Phoenix and Indians’ Advo­ cate, 169 Cherokees, 167,168. See also Native Americans Chickasaw, 170. See also Native Americans Choate, Rufus, 188 Choctaw, 170. See also Native Americans Christian H erald and Seamans Maga­ zine, 109 Christianity. See Bible; Religion; and names o fspecific denominations Christians, Scholars, and Farm ers M agazine, 109 Churches, 68. See also Religion Church o f England, 5 ,11,15 , 26,49, 50,106 Cicero, 94 Citizenship, xv, 53, 54, 56-58, 209 (n. 1), 235 (n. 1); meanings of, 2, 9 - 11,12 0 ,154-57» 179» 183-86; pop­ ular, 44,46-48, 53-67 passim, 77, 8 6 ,9 2,10 8 ,116 ,119 ,14 8 ,14 9 ,15 4 , 159,204; race and, 120,155-57. 170 -72,179 , 235 (n. 7); African American, 170 ,173,19 0 ; womens, 183-86. See also African Americans; Naturalization Act; Women Clarke, Robert, 172 Classical languages, 3 6 ,4 0 ,7 6 ,10 7 , 182, 221 (n. 88). See also Education Gaxton, Timothy, no Ginton, George, 103,104 Coercive Acts (1774), 63 Colden, Cadwallader, 29,45 Colored Am erican, 173 Common SchoolAdvocate, 141 Congregationalists, 106. See also Calvinists; Dissenters; Presbyteri­ ans; Puritans; Religion

Index Congress, U.S., 9 1,9 3,9 6 ,10 3,12 7, 13 1,16 7 ,17 9 ,19 0 ,19 1 Connecticut, xv, $1,9 3,10 4 ,133,156 , 16 6 ,17 0 ,17 1,17 2 ,17 4 ,17 6 ,18 9 ; Supreme Court, 156 Constitution, U.S., 8 8 ,116 ,156 ,137, 172,173,19 3; Fifteenth Amend­ ment, xv, 19 1,19 4 ,19 $; First Amendment, 87,90; Thirteenth Amendment, 1$$; Native Americans and, 167; Nineteenth Amendment, 195. See also Bill o f Rights, U.S. Continental Congress, 67 Cooper, Thomas, 147,158 Coram, Robert, 107 Cornish, Reverend Samuel T , 173 Craftsman, 38 Crandall, Prudence, 176 Creeks, 170. See also Native Americans Crowley, Robert: An Inform ation and Petition against the Oppressors o fthe Poor Commons o fthis Realm, 4,38 Curtis, Langley, 14 Daggett, David, i$6 Dakota language, 169 Declaration o f Independence, 156,157, 171,173,18 8 . See also Natural rights Defoe, Daniel, 28,33 Deists, 49. See also Religion Delaware, 137 DeLolme, Jean Louis, 30,32, 33 Democratic Party, 148,188,189,191, 193 Dick, Thomas: On the Improvement o fSociety by the D iffusion o fKnowl­ edge, 122,169 Dickinson, John: Lettersfrom a Farm er in Pennsylvania, 38-60 Discourse o fthe Commonweal o fthis Realm o fEngland, 4

Dissenters, 31, 32, 38. See also Religion District o f Columbia, 97,190 Dorr Rebellion, 166 Douglass, Frederick, 186,188-89 Dred Scott decision, 190 Duché, Reverend Jacob, 31 Education, xiv-xvi, 30 ,31,6 9 -8 2 passim, 8 3,9 1,9 2 ,9 9 -112 passim, 123,133-6 1 passim, 16 7,173,176 , 180 -82,19 6-202,209 (n. 1); pub­ lic, xiv, xv, 30, 31, 74-77» 79-81, 91, 94» 95» 9 8 ,10 0 ,10 3,10 6 ,113,133, 14 8 ,14 9 ,17 8 ,197-99» schools, xvi, 31, 7 0 ,10 4 ,133,135,138 ,14 4 ,14 8 , 14 9 ,16 0 ,16 1,16 7 ,17 8 ,19 7 ; uni­ versities, 3 1,7 1,7 2 ,14 1,14 6 ,14 7 ; English, 69; at Oxford, 71; at Geneva, 71,9 6 ; in Europe, 71-72; at Leyden, 72; African American, 7 3 ,7 4 ,17 4 -7 6 ,17 7 ,17 8 ,18 0 -8 2 , 239 (n. 79), 240 (n. 91); Native American, 73,74, 213 (n. 63); o f girls and women, 7 3,73,76 ,9 4 ,9 5, 193; charity schools, 74,133,16 7, 182; in Scodand, 138, 233 (n. 47). See also Harvard College; Virginia Bill for the More General Diffusion o f Knowledge; Yale College Edward VI, 4 Eldredge, John B., 161 Elizabeth 1, 4 Elshtain, Jean Bethke, 243 (n. 11) Entertaining knowledge, 126 Evangelicals, 106, h i . See also Religion Everett, Edward, 16 0 ,16 1 Factory owners, 159 Family, 73 Fellenberg, Philipp, 144

247

248

Index Fifteenth Amendment, xv, 191,194,

195 Finn, Chester E., 200 First Amendment, 87,90 Forten, James, 174 Franklin, Benjamin, 28,29 ,36 ,37, 38,41-43» 6 1,107» ho, h i , 198,214 (n. 46); Poor Richard’s Almanack, 29; Proposais Relating to the Educa­ tion ofYottth in Pennsylvania, 36,37; on women’s education, 41 Freedom o f religion. See Religious freedom Free press, xiv, 7 ,16 ,2 4 , 27,30,32, 30, 56, 57,6 7,79 , 83,86,88,199. See also Censorship; Free speech Free speech, 7 ,12 ,1$ , 16 ,17 ,18 ,2 8 , 29, 50, $6,83,199. See also Free press “Gag rule,” 179 Galileo, 8 Galloway, Joseph, 64 Garnet, Henry Highland, 190 Garrison, William Lloyd, 186 Geneva, University of, 71,9 6 Gendeman status, 2 1-2 3 ,24» 30» 36, 39,60,69 George III, 138 Georgetown, S.C ., 182 Georgia, 8$, 148,182 German setders, 27,42,43; in Penn­ sylvania, 42 Glorious Revolution, 27 Gordon, Thomas, 29 Greek. See Classical languages Greeley, Horace, 191 Harper, William, 156,137 Harrington, James, 10, u , 22 Harvard College, 72,73, 80 Henry IV (of Navarre), 209 (n. 13)

Henry V III, 3 Hereditary principle, 1, 2 Herttell, Judge Thomas, 189 Hierarchy principle, 2 Hobbes, Thomas, 10 ,16 Holbrook, Josiah, no Hollis, Thomas, 34, 33 Holmes, Governor Gabriel, 144,143 House o f Commons, 9 ,14 ,17 ,18 ; Votes o fthe House o fCommons, 14. See also Parliament House o f Lords, 9 ,17 ,18 . See also Parliament Hume, David, 93 Hutchinson, Thomas, 61 Independent Reflector, 38, 39,40 Indiana, 139,141, 233 (n. 41) Indians. See Native Americans Iowa, 191 James I, 3 ,6,209 (n. 13) James II, 13 Jay, John, 72 Jay, Peter A ., 172, 238 (n. 35) Jefferson, Thomas, 6 7 ,6 9 ,8 3 ,9 4 ,10 1, 103, h i ; on free speech, 67, 8 6 -9 1; on educadon, 75-77,9 2,9 6 , 97, 10 1,10 2,113, 225 (n. 32); on reli­ gious freedom, 82,92 Jenks, Reverend William, 168 Jenyns, Soame, 33 Jews, 32 Jones, Reverend Charles Colcock, 180,

*39 (n. 79) Ju st Vindication o fLearning and the Liberty o fthe Press, 13,18 Kansas, 191, 241 (n. 123) Kent, Chancellor James, 172 Kentucky, 145,170

Index Kerber, Linda K., 73 Klein, Milton M ., 212-13 (n. 12) Kramnick, Isaac, 216 (n. 84) Kruman, Marc, 235 (n. 1) Labor, 154-65 passim; workingmen, xv, 16 0 ,16 1,16 3; reformers, 154,159; factory workers, 158; and ten-hour day, 158,159,162; workingmen’s press, 159,161,162,16 5; and public speaking, 163,164; National Labor Congress, 191 Lancaster, Joseph, 135,138,139,141, 144,170; Lancasterian schools, 140, 142,167 Land grant college act (Morrill Act, 1862), xiii Latin. Ser Classical languages Laud, William, 6 Laurens, Henry, 70-73 Lawrence, Williams, 13 League o f Women Voters, 195 Leonard, Daniel, 64 L’Estrange, Roger, 12 ,14 ,15 Lewis, Jan, 73 Libraries, 4 5 ,12 8 ,131,132,14 1,16 2 , 175« 233 (n. 41). See also Voluntary associations Licensing laws, 6 -8 , u , 13,15-18 ,28 . See also Censorship Lincoln, Abraham, xiii Literacy, xvi, 2 ,14 ,3 1,5 2 ,112 ,14 9 -5 0 , 180 -8 2,18 7,18 9 ,19 3,19 6 ,217 (n. 7), 225 (n. 32), 240 (n. 91). See also Citizenship; Education Livingston, William, 39,40,212-13 (n. 12) Locke, John, 12 ,13 ,16 ,17 ,19 -2 2 , 32, 34, 38,188,214 (n. 46); Some Thoughts Concerning Education, 19-22,34

London,7 London Chronicle, 54 London Gazette, 12 London Journal, 28 Luther, Seth, 165,166,237 (n. 24) Lyceums, no, 121,12 7 ,12 8 ,131,16 4 , 165 Madison, James, 9 1,10 5,10 6 , in ; on public education, 85,92,96,102, 103,106,145; on free speech, 87,90; on public opinion, 90; on national university, 96 Mandeville, Bernard de, 34-36,40,

43,46» 47. 221 (n. 88) Mann, Horace, 128 ,131-33,151,154, 185-86 Mary 1, 5 Mason, George, 67,87 Massachusetts, xv, 27,31,4 6 ,4 7, 51, 56 ,6 2,6 3,6 6 ,78 -8 1,8 5,9 1,9 3, 10 6 ,133,16 6 ,210 (n. 26); General Court, 56; Declaration o f Rights, 79; constitution, 79 -8 1,9 1,10 6 . See also New England; Puritans Maury, Reverend James, 69,72 Mavor, William: Catechism o fGeneral Knowledge, 126; Catechism o f Uni­ versal History, 126 Methodists, 92. See also Religion Michigan, 178,179 Mill, John Stuart, 199 Milton, John, 7 -10 ,12 ,18 , 38, 214 (n. 46); Areopagitica, 7 ,10 ,13 Minor, Virginia, 193 Missionaries, 4 1,4 2 ,16 8 ,16 9 ,17 0 ,17 7 , 215 (n. 65). See also African Ameri­ cans; Education; Native Americans; Religion Mississippi, 182 Molesworth, Robert, 18-20,38;

249

250

Index Account o fDenmark as it tuas in 1692,18 Monarchy, divine right, 1, 5. See also names o fspecific monarchs M onthly Repository and Library o f Entertaining Knowledge, 122 Morris, Robert, 7 1,7 2 Morse, Jedidiah, 168 Moynihan, Kenneth, 243 (n. 17) Multiculturalism, 198,202,206, 243 (n. it) Murphey, Archibald DeBow, 143 Museums, 126 ,127 National Labor Congress, 191 National university, 95,96,97 Native Americans, 41,42, 50,154,156, 167-70, 215 (n. 65), 238 (n. 55). See also Education Naturalization Act (1790), 157, 235 (n.7) Natural rights, 171,17 3,17 8 ,179 ,18 8 . See also Declaration o f Indepen­ dence New England, 51,74 ,75,20 0 . See also Connecticut; Massachusetts; Rhode Island New England Artisan and Laboring M ens Repository; 163 New England Association o f Farmers, Mechanics, and Other Working­ men, 16 0 -6 1,16 4 New Haven, Conn., 174-75 New Jersey, 7 7 ,15 7 ,17 1 Newsletters. See Newspapers Newspapers, 12 ,14 ,16 , 28,30,44-46, 51, 6 1,8 8 ,9 1,10 3, no New York, 27, 39, 50 ,10 3,104,156, 17 0 -7 3,19 1; constitutional conven­ tion, 171-73» 191 New York City, 51,135,139 ,175

North, the, 151,183 North Carolina, 52, 6 6 ,6 8 ,74 ,8 5,14 1, 142,148,180; constitution, 141; edu­ cation in, 141-46,180; university, 146,147 North Carolina Literary Board, 146 Observator, 15 Occom, Samson, 215 (n. 65) Ohio, 191 “Othman,” 161-62 Packard, Frederick A., 124,149-50 Paine, Thomas, 64,65,6 7,87-89 ; Common Sense, 64,65 Parker, Theodore, 151,166 Parliament, 2 -5 ,14 ,16 -18 , 28, 60. See also House o f Commons; House o f Lords Peale, Charles Wilson, 126 ,127 Pennsylvania, 27, 66, 68,74,85, 87, 14 8 ,15 6 ,17 0 ,17 3 ,17 4 ,19 1 Pestalozzi, Johann, 144 Peterborough, bishop of, 43-44 Petersburg, Va., 112 Philadelphia, 139,175 Phillips, Wendell, 184,186,190 Philomathean Society, 175 Plato, 4 Platt, Jonas, 172 Plebiscitary democracy, 204, 206 Porter, General R B., 170 Post office, U.S., xv, 67,103 Prat, Benjamin, 46,47 Presbyterians, 5 ,17 ,2 7 ,10 6 ,18 0 -8 2 , 228 (n. 82). See also Religion Presbyterian Synod o f New York and New Jersey, 177 Press, xv, 7. See also Free press; News­ papers; Printing Priesdey, Joseph, 31

Index Printing, 4, 6, 11,12 , 27,124 Privy Council, 4 ,14 Proudfk, John, 124 Prussian monarchy, 166 Public lectures, 127,128 ,129 ,130 Public opinion, 2 0 ,6 1,9 0 ,9 1,113 , 203 Puritans, $, 6 , 8,31, 55, 210 (h. 26) The Pursuit o fKnowledge Under D iffi­ culties; Illustrated by Anecdotes, 121 Pynchon, William, 27 Quakers, 5,17, 27. See also Religion Radical Whigs, 38,45, 50 Raleigh Register, 146 Randolph, John, 147 Ravitch, Diane, 200 Reason, Patrick, 176 Religion, 7 9 ,8 1,8 3,9 9 ,10 6 ,124 ,14 2, 14 9 ,177,180; religious establish­ ment, 79, 82, 91-93,106; Virginia Statute o f Religious Freedom, 82. See also Religious freedom; Reli­ gious toleration; and names o fspe­ cific denominations Religious freedom, 15,16 , 26 ,27,49, 82,83 Religious toleration, 4 ,16 , 23, 24, 26, *7 Remedyfo r Sedition, 3 Republican Party, 190,19 1,19 3 Republican wife and mother, 73,74 Restoration, 11 Revenue Act (1764), 53, 58 Rhode Island, 27,158,166 Rose, Ernestine L., 157 Ross, John Z ., 17 1,17 2 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 94 Rush, Benjamin, 8$, 105,198; on reli­ gion and education, 8 1,9 9 ,10 5-7,

228 (n. 82); on public education, 85,

93- 95.99 Schools. Ser Education Scott, John Morin, 212-13 (n .I2) Seabury, Samuel, 64 Sedition Act (1798), 87,88,90 Seditious libel, 13 ,14 ,17 . See also Free speech; Sedition Act Seneca Falls, N.Y., 186 Sergeant, Reverend John, 41,42 Seward, William Henry, 190 Shays’s Rebellion, 91 Sherman, Roger, 91 Sims, Thomas, 184 Sinclair, Sir John, 233 (n. 47) Smith, Governor Benjamin, 142 Smith, James McCune, 175 Smith, Samuel Harrison, 108 Smith, William, 29,212-13 (n* 12) Smithson, James, 127 Society for Constitutional Informa­ tion, 48; Address to the Public, 48 Society for the Propagation o f the Gospel, 41. See also Church o f England South, the, 148,151 South Carolina, 70 ,156 ,157,18 0 -8 2 South Carolina Society for the Advancement o f Learning, 156 Spectator, 29,34,38,40,44 Stamp Act (1765), 54, 57, 58 Stamp duty, 28 Stanton, Elizabeth Cady, 186,191 Star Chamber, Court of, 6 Stationers’ Company, 6 ,11,12 ,13 ,16 , 17 Steele, Richard, 34 Stiles, Reverend Ezra, 81 Story, Joseph, 115 ,117 ,119

251

252

Index Stuart dynasty, 5,7 Sully, duc de, 209 (n. 13) Supreme Court o f the United Sutes. See U.S. Supreme Court Taney, Roger B., 156 Tappan, Arthur, 174 Tea Act (1773), 63 Thomas i Kempis: The Im itation o f Christ, 27 Tillotson, Bishop John, 54 Tindall, Matthew: A Discoursefo r the Liberty o fthe Press, 18 Tocqueville, Alexis de, in Tolention Act (1688), 16 Townshend duties, 60 Train, George E , 191 Tienchard, John, 29 Turner, Nat, 180 United Sutes land ordinance o f 1786,

*39 Useful knowledge, 126 U.S. Supreme Court, xv, 93 Utah territory, 132, 241 (n. 123) Utica, N.Y., 162,163 Van Buren, Martin, 173 Van Vechten, Abraham, 172,188 Virginia, 27, 5 2 ,8 2 ,8 3,8 7 ,9 2 ,9 7 ,101, 10 2,133,14 7-57 passim, 171, 200, 220 (n. 60); university, xiii, 97: House o f Burgesses, 58; Declaration o f Rights, 67,87; constitutional convention, 147. See also Wise, Henry A. Virginia Bill for the More General Diffusion o f Knowledge, 75-77, 92, 95» *02

Virginia Statute o f Religious Freedom, 82,92,97 Voluntary associations, 81,83, 85,93, 10 5 ,10 8 ,112 ,12 1,12 8 ,14 4 ,16 4 ,16 5 , 168 ,174,175,203; voluntary princi­ ple, 148,152 Walker, David, 180 Washington, George, 90,95,96: Fare­ well Address, 9 0,121 Webster, Daniel, 114 ,115 ,119 ,12 6 ,18 5 Webster, Noah, 9 3,10 5 ,10 6 ,12 6 ,15 5 , 156; American D ictionary o fthe English Language, 155 Weekly Paquet, 14 Westphalia, Treaty of, 209 (n. 14) Whig Party, 124,148,166 Whitefield, Reverend George, 41 William and Mary, College of, 76, 92 William o f Orange, 15-16: D eclaration o fH is Highness W illiam H enry, Prince o fOrange, 16 Wise, Henry A ., 149-52,154 Women, xv, 4 0 ,4 1,9 4 ,9 5 ,15 5 ,15 7 ,17 5 , 183-89,193,198 (n. 123): reformers, 15 4 ,157,18 6 -8 7,19 1; women’s rights conventions, 157-58 ,186 ; suf­ frage, 188-93, *95» »4* (*»• *2-3)- See also Citizenship: Education Woodhull, Victoria, 193 Workingmen. See Labor Workingmens Press, 165 Wyckliffe, John, 7 Wyoming territory, 241 (n. 123) W^the, George, 75 Yale College, 75 Zenger case, 50,90