Chapter 4.
Areopagitica, or How Not to Kill a Book or an Idea
In his greatest prose work, Areopagitica, on the freedom of the press, Milton asserted that it is "as good almost [to] kill a man as kill a good book." Why is this? Because if someone "kills a man [he] kills a reasonable creature, God's image; but he who destroys a good book kills reason itself." (Hughes ed., Milton's Complete Poems and Major Prose 720). In the same context Milton said that
books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as the soul was whose progeny they are; nay, they do preserve as in a vial the purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred them.
Even the superficial reader is impressed with the analogy between a book and a living soul. Both share intellectual qualities. Both spring forth as the progeny of previous living beings. Both contain a "potency of life." Later Milton continues the analogy by suggesting that "a good book is the precious lifeblood of a master spirit, embalmed and treasured up … to a life beyond life." Good books, like great people, have a measure of immortality about them. He even uses the powerful words "homicide" and "martyrdom" in connection the violent act of censorship. We seldom see such vivid analogies in similar literature of the period. This is a measure of the seriousness with which Milton considers the freedom of the press. Implicit in this thought of a book as a living thing is the suggestion that the government would be guilty of committing murder by requiring all books to be licensed before printing and publication.
Milton's Borrowed Analogy from the Ancient Athenian Court on the Areopagus
The formal analogy that Milton used in writing the Areopagitica is very simple. In ancient Athens the Areopagus was the name of Mars' Hill. Here venerable men met in council to decide the fate of books and ideas regarding the life of Athens. On this hill overlooking the port and city was later built what became known as the Parthenon, still majestic and beautiful in its ruins. Before the Parthenon was built, however, the Hill of Mars (Ares), the god of war, was noted for the distinguished court that met here. This famous council was composed of almost 300 wise, well-educated and cultured men elected by all the freedmen of Athens. It was a very dignified, venerable, and powerful court. A great Greek orator and teacher of rhetoric, Isocrates (436-338 B.C.), wrote an oration that described the Council of Areopagus as the crowning achievement of Athenian democracy. This oration dealt with the freedom of the press and related issues. Of course, Milton had read it and was quite familiar with it, as he was with most of the Greek and Roman classics.
Milton used the form and some ideas of this Greek oration in his appeal to the "Lords and Commons of England," to whom he addressed his plea for the freedom of the press in 1644. Thus we have the title Areopagitica with the subtitle "A Speech for the Liberty of Unlicensed Printing, to the Parliament of England."
Milton's reason for writing his Areopagitica, as he explained in his Second Defense of the English People, was "to deliver the press from the restraints with which it was encumbered." He had in mind the legislation Parliament (now under control of the Presbyterian party) had just passed for the licensing of the press. This legislation, signed into law on June 14, 1643, was designed to enforce uniformity and to silence political opposition.
The effect of the previous (1637) law on licensing of printing gave Archbishop Laud, chancellor of Oxford University, power to prevent publication of any book in England. This law had fallen into disrepute by 1640 with the abolition of the Stuart court that made it. For three years (1637-1640) printing had been practically unregulated in England, a situation that Milton heartily endorsed. By 1644 the members of Parliament, urged on by the Presbyterians, were about to pass another, stricter bill called the Printing Order which was "ordained to regulate Printing: that no book, pamphlet, or paper shall be henceforth printed, unless the same be first approved and licensed by such, or at least one of such as shall be thereto appointed …" (Hughes ed., 719).
Milton pleads in his oration for the members of parliament not to do this. Milton and others had thought that licensing printing "had died when the prelates expired," that is, in 1640, when the political power of the Anglican church authorities was restrained. Now he feels compelled to address to the members of Parliament "a homily" to display the features of licensed printing (whether Anglican or Presbyterian) that they "will be loth to own." Next, he wishes to show "what is to be thought in general of the effect [of licensing] on reading and learning" (719-20).
William Kolbrener, a Columbia University professor, wisely says that the form of the Areopagitica, patterned after the five-part structure of the classical oration, is consistent with the explicit emphasis on freedom. For Kolbrener this "places the Areopagitica within the context of an emergent republicanism," rather than in unrestrained "individual liberty or of an authoritarian intolerance." Kolbrener suggests that these two Miltons (the liberal Milton and the authoritarian Milton) are "merely flip sides of one another." In his excellent 1993 ELH article "The Liberal Areopagitica" Kolbrener explains that "for the Milton of Areopagitica radical liberty and public authority are simultaneously asserted" (71).
The recognized critic J. C. A. Pocock agrees with Kolbrener that in the 17th century it was "impossible to assert even the most radical liberty without asserting some conception of authority at the same time." This is also the position taken in this book: that John Milton strongly believed in and advanced a theory of liberty based on individual liberty. Simultaneously, he entertained an idea of human government as exercising some proper authority under God over the lives of its freely consenting citizens.
Milton's Development of Thought in Areopagitica
The modern judicial controversy about the freedom of the press continues to use Milton's term "restraints" in the terminology "prior restraints." This refers to what Milton describes as censorship or restraints on printing of books before publication. The Supreme Court of the United States has often declared such restraints unconstitutional because of the First Amendment clause guaranteeing freedom of the press.
No Licensing Justified Prior to Publication
To Milton the licensing of printing, or the restricting the freedom of the press by the power of government, was extremely bad policy. It was an attack on the truth, the freedom of conscience, the freedom of the mind, of thought, and of all forms of learning. To him there are no honorable governmental motives that can possibly justify this, no matter how cleverly proposed. Milton was an ardent advocate of freedom of speech, freedom of conscience, religious freedom, academic freedom, and civil liberties long before such ideas were generally accepted in England or elsewhere. Milton's burning passion for the freedom of the press was widely publicized 140 years before the freedom of the press was incorporated in the Bill of Rights or the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution.
Milton does not view differences of opinion as a bad thing. On the contrary, "where there is much desire to learn, there of necessity will be much arguing, much writing, many opinions; for opinion in good men is but knowledge in the making" (743). Notice the powerful phrase "knowledge in the making," rather than the pathetic outcry of "faith in the destruction." His famous sentence, "Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above all liberties" (746) sounds like something that Thomas Jefferson, Patrick Henry, or James Madison could have said.
One noble motive a public figure can have, as Milton suggests, is to promote the country's liberty. Milton clearly asserts that this is his motivation in speaking out about the freedom of the press. He acknowledges that it is too much to expect that no grievances should ever arise in the Commonwealth. He will be satisfied if grievances, when they do arise, are "freely heard, deeply considered, and speedily reformed" (718). Surely this is not too much to expect in a free country.
Suppression of Printing is Ineffective
The method Milton uses in Areopagitica shows that the licensing order "avails nothing to the suppressing of scandalous, seditious, and libellous books, which were mainly intended to be suppressed" (720). He points out that the "primitive [Christian] councils were wont only to declare what books were not commendable, passing no further, but leaving it to each one's conscience … till after the year 1800" (723). By the time of Wycliffe and Huss the Roman Popes forbad the reading of books they deemed heretical and of Bible versions not authorized by them.
Milton cites history and scripture as supporting arguments for his position on freedom of the press. He thinks it would be disastrous for a British Parliament to pass such a restrictive law as the proposed printing license legislation. It would also be inconsistent with English history and current efforts to establish a national reputation in favor of liberty. Milton surveys the shameful history of printing licensing and shows that it has always been an ally of tyranny and never a supporter of freedom.
Moreover, to him the scripture in the Apostle Paul's first letter to the Thessalonians, 5:21, "Prove all things; hold fast to that which is good" applies to reading both good and bad books. He suggests that even "bad books to a discreet and judicious reader serve in many respects to discover, to confute, to forewarn, and to illustrate" (727). Every mature person must exercise his or her own capacity, responsibility, and reason, to decide the value of the books available for reading. This is in accordance with the scriptural principle that good and evil in this world grow up together, sometimes in "cunning resemblances" that are difficult "to be discerned." The devout believer is exposed to both, and each person must decide within his or her own conscience.
He that can apprehend and consider vice with all her baits and seeming pleasures, and yet abstain, and yet distinguish, and yet prefer that which is truly better, he is the true warfaring Christian. I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race where that immortal garland is to be run for, not without dust and heat (728).
With this frequently-quoted passage Milton comes down squarely on the side of freedom of the press and the freedom of the reader. Censorship is an effort toward the creation of a "fugitive and cloistered virtue" which Milton detests. He sees in free and open printing and reading a great value in recognizing and confuting error. Additionally, such freedom helps us to confirm truth by every reasonable means.
Milton points out that "evil manners are as perfectly learned without books a thousand other ways which cannot be stopped" (730). Moreover, "If we think to regulate printing, thereby to rectify manners, we must regulate all recreations and pastimes, all that is delightful to man" … including "music and songs" (732). In other words, if the purpose of licensing printing and censoring books is to stop evil manners, then every other source of evil manners, not merely book publishing, must be addressed and restricted. In such a repressive society, teachers and others who influence social and moral manners must all be strictly controlled and, if necessary, oppressed and punished. This is, of course, impossible and wrong.
Additionally, the legislators will recognize that frequently it is society's learned men who are the first propagators of "vice and error" out of books. The distinguished members of parliament must then ask "how shall the licensers themselves be confided in, unless we can confer upon them … the grace of infallibility and uncorruptedness?" (730). The proposed licensing law cannot, for many reasons, be effective in accomplishing its intended purpose.
If this proposed order of licensing the press "does nothing to the end for which it was framed," of what value is it? Milton shows that "no nation, or well-instituted state, if they valued books at all, did ever use this way of licensing." Consistency would require that all scandalous books already circulated in England would have to be listed and condemned. Then no more foreign books would be allowed into the country until they are read and approved. This would require an enormous number of qualified overseers and licensers. Another question would be, "What about the books that are partly useful and valuable but partly "culpable and pernicious?" (734). Will the censors deface such books with expurgated passages before allowing them on the English market? Yet another question is, "What about managing, listing, and prosecuting all the booksellers who violate the licensing laws?" This, too, would require a huge police force and criminal justice system that parliament would doubtless be unwilling to fund. Thus, the entire order would be fruitless and defective.
The Number and Quality of Licensers Required
Milton elaborates on the quality of the licensers whose judgments and skills would be required if the Printing Order were to meet the end it seeks:
It cannot be denied but that he who is made judge to sit upon the birth or death of books, whether they may be wafted into this world or not, had need to be a man above the common measure, both studious, learned, and judicious. There may be else no mean mistakes in the censure of what is passable or not, which is also no mean injury. If he be of such worth as behooves him, there cannot be a more tedious and unpleasing [work] …, a greater loss of time levied upon his head, than to be made the perpetual reader of unchosen books and pamphlets, ofttimes huge volumes (734).
There could hardly be found in his day a more qualified person to speak on this subject than John Milton. It is likely that he had read more books than anyone else in his country in his generation. He knew how tedious it was. This is very likely how he lost his eyesight. He was particularly distrustful of unqualified licensers who were often young and inferior in knowledge, learning, and judgment, "perhaps one who never knew the labor of book-writing" (735).
The personal experiences of Milton, based on his travels and contacts abroad, fortify his position against a controlled press. He writes
what I have seen and heard in other countries where this kind of inquisition tyrannizes; when I have sat among their learned men, for that honor I had, and been counted happy to be born in such a place of philosophic freedom as they supposed England was, while themselves did nothing but bemoan the servile condition into which learning amongst them was brought.… Though I knew that England then was groaning loudest under the prelatical yoke, nevertheless I took it as a pledge of future happiness that other nations were so persuaded of her liberty. (737-38).
Of course, the real motivation for the Printing Order came from two sources. First, the monarchy had a paramount interest in restricting political opposition that often came from Roman Catholic, sectarian, and radical political writers. The smaller non-Anglican churches, or, later, non-Presbyterian churches, were outspoken in criticism of the established church and government. Second, both the Anglicans and Presbyterians, when they were in power, supported the licensing of printers to reduce their competition in the marketplace of religious ideas. Both the Anglicans and the Presbyterians complained of "schisms and sects" and howled about the calamity of any dissent from the established church's doctrinal positions.
Milton enjoyed his position as the burr under the saddle of the establishment dignitaries. He delighted in pointing out that it was their own pride and ignorance that caused the perceived disturbance in the unity of the church. They, not the independents and separatists, were the problem, because they would not "hear with meekness" the complaints. Neither could they convince their opponents by sound reason and scripture. As a result, a policy of suppression of diverse opinions followed. Milton wisely observed that such a policy of "forced and outward union of cold and neutral and inwardly divided minds" would never succeed in creating harmony in the church. It is impossible to make people virtuous, moral, or doctrinally or politically correct by using external restraints or coercion.
Milton was very proud of the reputation for learning, scholarship, and reformation that England enjoyed among the other nations of Europe. John Wycliffe of Oxford had been one of the first scholars to "sound forth the first tidings of reformation to all Europe." Had the "obstinate and perverse" prelates not suppressed Wycliffe as "a schismatic innovator," then England, rather than Germany or Geneva, could have been the source of reformation in the church. Even so, Milton still looked on London as "the mansion house of liberty." He felt that "God is decreeing to begin some new and great period in his Church, even to the reforming of reformation itself' (743). A law restricting the freedom of the press in any way would discourage intellectual activity and hinder the cause of truth.
Arguing over various positions is not a bad sign. To the contrary, it should be considered great that "where there is much desire to learn, there of necessity will be much arguing, much writing, many opinions; for opinion in good men is but knowledge in the making." Such "earnest and zealous thirst after knowledge and understanding," according to Milton, is probably something stirred up by God himself. It is not to be feared as a terrible sign of "sect and schism." Such "knowledge in the making" is a hopeful omen of real freedom in any country (743-44).
Diversity of Opinions to be Welcomed
Milton and his fellow Independents viewed it as a good thing that religion was again becoming more of a personal matter. It was also good that men were beginning to take the care of their religion into their own hands, rather than leaving it up to the professional clergy. Milton saw reasons to be encouraged and "to hope better of all these supposed sects and schisms" which the ecclesiastical prelates so feared.
"When the people … are wholly taken up with the study of highest and most important matters to be reformed …, [when they are] disputing, reasoning, reading, inventing, discoursing …," then this "argues first a singular goodwill, contentedness and confidence in … prudent foresight and safe government." When freedom is enjoyed by the people, Milton says, "Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks." It should be obvious that "the immediate cause of all this free writing and free speaking" is a "mild and free and humane government." Milton reminds the Lords and Commons that "It is the liberty … which your own valorous and happy counsels have purchased us, liberty which is the nurse of all great wits" (745).
Milton concludes this final part of the main body of his oration with the famous sentence, "Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above all liberties" (746). In this context he includes the moving tribute to Lord Brook, a prominent former member of parliament, and an outspoken advocate of freedom and toleration. Lord Brook in his Discourse of the Nature of Episcopacy (1641) pleaded for patience and humility toward those with different religious beliefs. He emphasized that they wanted merely "to live purely, in such a use of God's ordinances as the best guidance of their conscience gives them." The majority should practice toleration for such minorities, he wrote, even if it means "some disconformity to ourselves" (746).
In Milton's view Truth and Falsehood, as personified figures, should be free to grapple and contend with each other. He asks, "Who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter?" To Milton, "Truth is strong, next to the Almighty. She needs no policies, nor stratagems, nor licensings to make her victorious.… Give her but room, and do not bind her when she sleeps" (747).
We should not accept all divisions in the Body of Christ, however, as good things. Milton said that where at all possible "charitable and compassionate means" should "be used to win and regain the weak and the misled." However, absolutely no coercion should be used. If, after a sincere and reasonable effort is made to communicate with each other, dissenters who are in good conscience still feel disposed to separate and go their own way, they must be allowed to do so. Separate organization and differences in nonessential doctrines need not interrupt "the unity of spirit" and "the bond of peace" between different churches and denominations.
Sometimes intermediate steps must be taken before longer and greater steps can be made in the future. Milton understood this practical concept and expressed it toward the end of his Areopagitica. This is what he said:
For when God shakes a kingdom with strong and healthful commotions to a general reforming, it is not untrue that many sectaries and false teachers are then busiest in seducing; but yet more true it is that God then raises to his own work men of rare abilities and more than common industry, not only to look back and revise what hath been taught heretofore, but to gain further and go on some new enlightened steps in the discovery of truth (748).
Milton clinches his argument for freedom of expression by a reference on the pamphlet's last page to the scripture in which Jesus rebukes the Apostle John, who, Milton says, "was so ready to prohibit those whom he thought unlicensed." This, Milton suggests, shows "how unacceptable to God their testy mood of prohibiting is." The passage is in Luke 9:49-50, where John reports seeing a man who was not an apostle casting out devils in Jesus' name:
John said, "Master, we saw a man using your name to force demons out of people. But we told him to stop, because he isn't one of us."
"Don't stop him," Jesus said. "Anyone who isn't against you is for you." (American Bible Society, Contemporary English Version, 1995, hereafter referred to as CEV).
The gospel of Jesus Christ thus is on the side of toleration and freedom, as should be the laws of England, according to Milton.
Milton's final appeal after this scripture is to the conscience and reasonableness of the members of parliament. His final four words are "greatest and wisest men." The Lords and Commons, the members of parliament, should see to it that the "liberty of printing" (or what we today know as the freedom of the press) must not "be reduced into the power of a few." Moreover, they, as the "greatest and wisest men" of their generation in their country should also "redress willingly and speedily what hath been erred" (749) in the past by previous laws dealing with this matter. They are the modern successors of the great and wise men of the Athenian Court that met for similar purposes in ancient times on the famous Areopagus hill.
It should now be obvious to any reader that this book presents a positive evaluation of Milton's thought about freedom as expressed in his Areopagitica. To be fair, however, we should not let this opinion, well founded as we think it is, obscure the fact that Milton has his contemporary critics who disagree with this evaluation. For example, Catherine Belsey, in her 1988 book on John Milton, finds fault with his "acknowledgement of pluralism."
By modern standards, and even by the norms of Robert Williams and some others of his own generation, Milton did not go far enough in advocating toleration and freedom. He omitted some smaller Protestant groups and Roman Catholics, Jews, Moslems, atheists, and women from the benefits of complete freedom.
Even Arthur Barker, who is generally supportive of Milton's thought, shows his dissatisfaction with Milton's failure to stand consistently for a truly liberal philosophy (244). Similarly, Christopher Hill finds Milton wanting in several respects. Hill apparently would have been happier if Milton had been more like some radical revolutionaries of the 17th century. He says that Milton "could never cross the chasm that separated him from a man like Winstanley." Others believe it is to Milton's credit that he was not more like Winstanley and other radical revolutionaries of his generation. Hill complains that Milton advocates only a "partial liberalism," not a true or complete liberalism. Although Hill may be generally accurate in this assessment, he is unjustified in his condemnation of Milton for not being more radical in his generation or more like us in the twentieth century.
Other literary critics who have similarly criticized Milton for not being sufficiently liberal include John Illo, C. B. Macpherson, and Christopher Kendrick. Their criticism is worth reading, but I find either their premises unsound, their selection of Miltonic citations incomplete, or their philosophic reasoning lacking in coherence. Several other literary critics among their professional peers remain unconvinced by their arguments and lack confidence in their conclusions. However, it is not within the purview of this book to analyze and answer each of these critical viewpoints. This has already been done by other highly qualified critics and writers such as William Kolbrener and J. G. A. Pocock.
Other Allied Freedoms Milton Associates with Freedom of the Press
As noted above, Milton in Areopagitica associates many ideas on various aspects of freedom with the primary theme of freedom of the press. This suggests that Areopagitica is a more comprehensive document than merely an oration on the licensing of printing. In this his greatest prose work Milton presents much of his best thought on freedom of conscience, freedom of speech in its wider dimensions, toleration of minorities, and separation of church and state. This should not surprise thoughtful students of liberty, for the same combinations exist in "package deals" in many Bills of Rights in many countries across many generations. For example, we have several fundamental freedoms—religious freedom, freedom of the press, freedom of assembly, and freedom of speech—grouped together in the very short First Amendment to the United States Constitution. It seems that history has taught us that none of these freedoms can survive without the protection of all the others.
In 17th century England and the American colonies, people were beginning to learn that freedom required an appreciation of individualism and humanist idealism inherent in the emerging idea of the Rights of Man. Blind patriotism was not enough. David Daiches wrote that in some ways Milton's thought on freedom was "more familiar to nineteenth-century liberal thought than to his own time" (Milton 116). Milton's religious toleration, except for his limited toleration of Roman Catholicism, was closer to late 18th- or 19th-century thought than it was to the prevailing 17th century attitudes.
When Catholics, Anglicans, Presbyterians, or Reformed Churches were in power, they all oppressed other "dissenting churches" in the 16th, 17th, and most of the 18th centuries. Regarding this issue Milton made it clear that he did not share their fear of many multiplying small sects of churches. He suggested that any man who "writes to the world" should summon up all his best reason and deliberation to help him. Next, he should "consult and confer with his judicious friends." Then, he is obligated to become as well informed as possible. Finally, he must let the force of his argument speak for itself, without depending on governmental legislation to give him the sole platform from which to speak to a silenced opponent. Free speech for all, without special favors to any, should be sufficient to influence open minds in an unhindered search for truth in an imperfect world.
Both greatness and limitations characterized Milton's expressed thought on these freedoms in Areopagitica. Besides his prejudice against Roman Catholics, one notes also the bias against what Milton called "open superstition." Exactly what he meant by "open superstition" we cannot be sure. We can only say that Milton had such a profound respect for knowledge and learning that it should surprise no one that he had an equal contempt for deliberate ignorance or superstition.
Another limitation to Milton's thought development is illustrated in his failure perhaps to go far enough in his plea for complete separation of church and state. More about this later. For now let it be noted in passing that Milton insisted on granting full toleration only to those who were willing to grant full religious and civil or political toleration for others. If they sought to silence or suppress their religious and political enemies, they, in Milton's viewpoint, forfeited toleration and liberty for themselves. They formed a clear and present danger to the entire nation and all its institutions and values.
Current Interest in Freedom of the Press as noted in Milton's Areopagitica.
We noted earlier the danger of trying to take Milton's thought and writings out of their 17th century context and apply them directly to 20th-century situations. This may be helpful, but usually not without making some explanations, qualifications, and reservations. Modern nations have found that further legislation and court decisions may be necessary to expand on Milton's thoughts and define more precisely
- what is meant by "speech"
- the difference (if any) between "religious establishment" and "complete separation of church and state"
- what is meant by official "coercion"
- the difference between "beliefs" and "behavior" or "actions," and
- what constitutes a "compelling interest" (if any) of the state in abridging certain freedoms.
Careful and thoughtful readers may have already said, "More needs to be said about some of these things." Many of these issues will be discussed in the last chapter of this book. Let it suffice for now to wave a little "red flag" to alert the reader and suspend our curiosity.
Going Beyond Religious Liberty
As we lay some of these issues aside for later consideration, let's notice the tone of Milton's plea for full freedom of the press and complete freedom of discourse. His strident plea for freedom of conscience and freedom of religion, in the face of forced forms and rituals of worship by an established state church, was sufficiently alarming to generate widespread support from a large part of the public in his generation. Milton was not content to stop with this. He went beyond calling for religious liberty and demanded also a secular freedom that affected political and economic institutions and customs. This was too much for many influential leaders to accept without protest. When Milton called for freedom of the press, he meant full freedom for practically anyone to publish almost anything on any subject. Milton was not content to fight this battle solely for freedom to print and publish different religious views.
The Modern Concern About Censorship
The current "hot button" issue of censorship focuses on prohibition of the availability of published documents rather than on censorship prior to publication. Some people complain that Milton did not address this issue of censorship of the availability of all books after they are published. Churches have for centuries had their lists of forbidden books, and book burnings have been too frequent and shameful. In 1215 the Fourth Lateran Council of the Roman Catholic Church banned the works of Aristotle. In 1564 the Council of Trent established the Index of Forbidden Books, which continued in force for centuries.
It may be true that Milton did not speak in Areopagitica specifically and extensively on every aspect of censorship, but he did condemn book burnings. He should not be criticized by an argument from silence. No one knows what he might have written on this subject of banning books after publication, had he addressed this issue in our modern context. In our times library committees and movie and television censors exercise their arbitrary authority for reasons of their own. Had Milton lived in these times, he might have come down hard on the side of opposing modern censorship, just as he vigorously opposed 17th century censorship before printing.
He would probably have anticipated all of the modern objections to the near total freedom of the press. He would have answered them as clearly and convincingly as he handled the 17th-century situation in Areopagitica. His humanistic arguments would support free speech and a free press in every free and democratic country. Milton's great prose masterpiece implies "the settlement of burning issues by peaceful and democratic means, by the victory of reason's persuasion rather than the imposition of force" (Wolfe 137).
It was not Milton's choice to have a Civil War to settle such problems. He preferred negotiation, reason, and goodwill on all sides. Where this was not possible, and war was the only alternative to tyranny, then John Milton was prepared to join with the forces of liberty, as were the American patriots during the American Revolution. By any objective standards, judged by what he wrote and his general philosophy of freedom, John Milton deserves enormous credit for his outstanding contribution to the literature of liberty. This applies to both his own generation and to ours.