Poultney Masters delivered himself of a historical profundity. “The man who first had the notion of teaching the mass of people to read will have something to answer for.”
“Destructive, isn’t it?” said Banneker, looking up quickly.
“Now, you want to go farther. You want to teach ’em to think.”
“Exactly. Why not?”
“Why not? Why, because, you young idiot, they’ll think wrong.”
“Very likely. At first. We all had to spell wrong before we spelled right. What if people do think wrong? It’s the thinking that’s important. Eventually they’ll think right.”
“With the newspapers to guide them?” There was a world of scorn in the magnate’s voice.
“Some will guide wrong. Some will guide right. The most I hope to do is to teach ’em a little to use their minds. Education and a fair field. To find out and to make clear what is found; that’s the business of a newspaper as I see it.”
“Tittle-tattle. Tale-mongering,” was Masters’s contemptuous qualification.
“A royal mission,” laughed Banneker. “I call the Sage to witness. ‘But the glory of kings is to search out a matter.’”