Welcome to Making a Great America, where we explore the founding debates and decisions that shaped our nation. I'm your host, Charlie Jett, coming to you from our studio in beautiful downtown Chicago. Today we turn to one of the most reasoned and persuasive voices of the Anti-Federalist cause, the mysterious writer known as the Federal Farmer. In October of 1787, just weeks after the Constitutional Convention concluded, the Federal Farmer published a series of letters challenging the new Constitution. In his fourth letter, Federal Farmer No. 4, he laid out a calm but firm case for something many delegates in Philadelphia had left out, a Bill of Rights. This episode, Federal Farmer No. 4, The Call for a Bill of Rights, explores how this thoughtful essay helped move the young republic toward protecting personal liberty in writing, not by trust, but by law. The identity of the federal farmer was never confirmed, though most historians believe it was Richard Henry Lee of Virginia, a revolutionary leader, a signer of the Declaration of Independence, and a cousin of light horse Harry Lee. Whoever he was, the federal farmer wrote with the balance and restraint of a man who loved liberty but also loved reason. He was not an extremist. He did not denounce the Constitution outright. He sought to improve it, to preserve the spirit of 1776 in the structure of 1787. In his fourth letter, dated October 12, 1787, the federal farmer focuses on one central concern, the absence of a declaration of rights. He opens with a principle that echoes through the centuries, and I quote, in forming a government, the great objects that are the rights of individuals, the public liberty, and the public good be duly attended to. He reminds readers that every state constitution already began with a declaration, a clear compact between the people and their rulers. Why then should the new national constitution omit it? To the federal farmer, this was not a small oversight. It was a dangerous omission. Without a bill of rights, he warned, nothing stood between the citizens and the slow, steady encroachment of power. Power, he wrote, is of an encroaching nature, and it ought to be effectually restrained from passing the limits assigned to it. The federal farmer was not accusing the Constitution's framers of bad intentions. Quite the opposite. He acknowledged their intelligence and patriotism, but warned that good men may fall into error. Even wise leaders, he said, cannot be trusted forever with unlimited discretion. That is why he argued that certain fundamental liberties must be, and I quote, beyond the reach of all authority. He then listed the liberties most at risk freedom of the press, the watchdog of government, freedom of religion, the conscience of the people, trial by jury, the barrier between the citizen and the state, protection from general warrants and arbitrary searches, limits on standing armies during peacetime. He warned that if these rights were left to the mercy of Congress, experience and not foresight will teach us their value, and at a cost we may not wish to pay. To the federal farmer, a bill of rights was not a luxury. It was the foundation of any free government. He saw it as a covenant, a clear statement of mutual trust between the people and those who govern them. He wrote, and I quote, it is essential that the people declare what rights they mean to retain. Otherwise, the government will claim all. It was not enough, he said, to rely on the structure of checks and balances. History had shown that even the best designed governments can drift toward abuse if their boundaries are not written plainly. The federal farmer believed that the Constitution should be ratified only with the promise of amendment. He urged his readers to demand guarantees before giving their consent, not afterward. He warned that once power was centralized, recovering lost rights would be far harder than preventing their loss in the first place. We are not to expect, he wrote, that our citizens will always be wise and virtuous. The law must guard where virtue fails. That's a striking line, one that captures the anti federalist spirit perfectly. These writers did not distrust the people. They distrusted the inevitability of human error. While Madison and Hamilton argued that the Constitution's structure was protection enough, the federal farmer insisted that liberty needs words, binding words. He was persuasive because he was moderate. Unlike the fiery rhetoric of Patrick Henry, his tone was measured, careful, and civic minded. He appealed to reason, not fear, and in doing so he reached thoughtful readers who might have dismissed harsher critics. His letters circulated widely across the states, especially in New York, Pennsylvania, and Virginia. Even many Federalists admitted that his arguments deserved respect. In Virginia's ratification debates, George Mason and others echoed the same points almost verbatim. There must be written guarantees of freedom of speech, religion, and trial by jury. And two years later, James Madison, once skeptical of such guarantees, introduced a series of amendments, the Bill of Rights, that reflected the federal farmers' demands almost line for line. Freedom of religion protected. Freedom of the press protected. Trial by jury protected. Protections against unreasonable searches protected. Standing armies limited protected. The federal farmers' call for constitutional restraint became the very definition of American liberty. Now here are the key takeaways from this essay. First, measured but firm opposition. The federal farmer supported union and government, but insisted that power must be limited by written guarantees. Second, a demand for the Bill of Rights. He argued that freedom of religion, speech, and trial by jury must be explicitly protected, not implied. Third, the recognition of human fallibility. He warned that virtue alone is never enough. Laws must restrain ambition and protect liberty. Fourth, the influence on Madison's amendments. His logic and language directly shaped the first Ten Amendments ratified in 1791. And finally, a legacy of reasoned dissent. The Federal Farmer proved that principled critique, calmly and clearly argued, can change a nation's course. Well, in conclusion, the story of Federal Farmer No. 4 reminds us that reasoned dissent can be as patriotic as agreement. He was not a radical or demagogue. He was a citizen statesman who understood that liberty is safest when it's written down. His call for a Bill of Rights was not an attack on the Constitution. It was a gift to it. His insistence that government must define its limits gave future Americans a shield against arbitrary power. And though his name remains uncertain, his impact is unmistakable. When Madison stood in Congress in 1789 to propose the Bill of Rights, he was answering voices like the federal farmers, the voices that demanded liberty be made explicit. And in the end, as you know, those voices prevailed. The federal farmers' words, written in 1787, still speak today. Freedom must never depend on trust alone. It must live in writing. Well, thank you for joining me for this episode of Making a Great America. I'm Charlie Jett coming to you from our studio in beautiful downtown Chicago. The Federal Farmer reminds us that our Constitution was not born from blind faith, but from careful thought and honest argument. His legacy is proof that constructive criticism can strengthen a nation, and that liberty's best friend is vigilance. So please join me next time as we explore another pivotal debate that helped shape the Republic that we all cherish today.