IT

seems to be generally expected that, at no very distant period, the Mormons will apply to Congress, to be admitted as an integral part into our Union-as a State of this Federacy of ours. We form the only Confederation that has ever existed with a coherent territory, a country, and that makes at the same time the admission of new members a part of its fundamental policy. The Hanseatic League was a league of scattered communities, whose union, if we may say so, was only on the seas, and in the foreign factories. We are, moreover, the only instance of a confederacy which leaves self-government to its components, and which, nevertheless, has a general government that goes far beyond a common league.* The relation which a State thus bears to the whole, is peculiar and complicated—a relation which must not be lightly treated. It produces problems that cannot be solved by a political formula of a few words, offered by the demagogue or the pettifogging politician, as panaceas are advertised, fit to cure all ills from scrofala and consumption, to melancholy and a fretful temper.

The Mormons will knock at our gate, as it is frequently and not inaptly called in the newspapers. Will they find written over it: Positively no Admittance, or will they meet with their peculiar advocates, and, after some wrangling in

Congress, which invariably grows more partisan-like the longer it lasts, become one of our sister States?

That knocking at the door of the Union, might suggest a scene somewhat of this sort:

SCENE: The Gate of the Capitol, at Washington-Inside and Outside of the Gate.

The Mormons at the Gate.-Bang, bang, bang!

Speaker of the House, from within.Who is there? Who makes this noise? Mormons. We are Latter-Day Saints, sir-Mormons, if you please.

Speaker, as before. And what of that? Why such a noise?

Mormons. We wish to be admitted; indeed, we want to be; we insist upon it; indeed, the Lord demands it.

Speaker, always through the key-hole. -And what sort of people are you? What is your religion, since you speak of the Lord?

Several voices from within.-No religion, no religion here! We have nothing to do with religion here.

Leader of the Mormon Delegation.Sir, you have no right whatever to care a straw for religion. Religion is all on our side. All we do and say, is religion, but you have nothing to do with it. Obey the Lord, and let us in. But as it

VOL. V.--15

is our mission always and every where to preach Joe Smith and Truth, we are willing to satisfy you. We do not only believe, like you, in a God who is good, but, more than that, we believe in a God that becomes better and better-not only in a perfect God, but one that becomes perfecter and perfecter, as he grows older-not only in a God that is a spirit, but one that has besides, limbs and local habitation. Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Believe ye outsiders inside, and open the door. We are a wondrous people. We do not only believe all things, but a great deal more. We do not only believe all things, but we know all things, and, we know, not only that we shall be redeemed, but that we ourselves shall become gods, with power and glory, at least so far as the pantaloonery is concerned. The womankind-darling creatures-will follow us.

A voice through the key-hole, from within.-Can you not be a little in a hurry, and become gods before the next Presidential election? You might help us, and it would make you very popular, gentlemen. You know, you say the whole world will be at an end pretty soon, anyhow. Now, why won't you be quick about it?

Speaker.-Order!

And how about your republicanism? You know, that old parchment says that none but republics shall be admitted as members of the confederacy.

Mormons.-We beg your pardon, sir; no such thing. The Constitution-which was inspired: everything is inspired-says that the United States shall guarantee to each State a republican government; but if a State has no republican government, they can't guarantee it. That is clear. Besides, sir, we are a republic, and we are not. The Lord rules his saints through Brigham, and Brigham has been appointed by the Lord, so we are not; and you need not trouble yourself about that guaranteeing business. And we are a republic, because every year, Brigham, appointed by the Lord, asks the Mormons whether that appointment suits them. Have you ever heard the like of such republicanism? Did we not tell you that all of us are going to be gods? Equality for ever! We are a "theo-democracy," sir. Only

think! Brigham is inspired every day and every hour, what to say and what to write, and what to do, and our newspaper contains the revelations as clearly as those shoulder-blades gave the inspirations of Mahomet. Numa, and all that sort of men, were inspired but once, and then their inspiration was at a dead halt. That was monarchical; but we have inspiration as long as a railway; running on at full speed, sometimes backing a little, to be sure; but what of that? Do you want more?

Voices from within.-Let them in! Let them in! I don't exactly

Speaker.-Order!

want more. Indeed, Messrs. Saints, it seems a little too much already. And pray, how is it with some elements of civilization, such as property and marriage? Some people tell rather ugly stories about you.

Mormon. Have at you again, sir. You call marriage an element of civilization, do you? Why, sir, we swim in this element. You call the family the basis of all political society? We make families as plenty as chicken-coops. Didn't Mr. Ferris tell you that the saints build family houses like barracks-box to box -a new wife, a new coop? We do not only acknowledge the family and marriage as you do, who stop with such a heathen as Theseus, that was deified by his godless people for having established wedlock between one man and one woman; but we are a progressive and expansive people. Bless the Anabaptists! We make the family as wide as a lawyer's conscience. It is a lovely state, for it is full of love. Yes, sir, we do not only give wives to all men and gods, but as many as they choose, and why should we not? Shall the liars, the Mahometans, have all the good things to themselves? Your Mr. Noyes, of Oneida county, says: Though a man love apples, may he not relish a peach too? We take peaches, apples, and all. And then, as to property, why, sir, we are-indeed-we-why, you know, sir, we are a holy mixture of socialism, and hierarchy, and individualism, and theocracy, and democracy, and all manner of things. Mixed governments, you know, are the best; we have, in fact, the government of the angels, we know

Suppose then, the people of Utah district, that is the Mormons, having increased to that number which of late has usually been considered sufficient to form a State, come before Congress, with a Constitution of their own peculiar polity, and ask to be admitted into the Union, ought they to be admitted? We say, with a Constitution of their own peculiar polity, embodying the chief features of their present politico-religious organization, as we know it and as the Mormons proclaim it, and consider it necessary and divine. If they give up their organization, and everything that binds them together as a Mormon society, and do it thoroughly and sincerely, no discussion whether they ought to be admitted is necessary in this place.

We naturally turn, first of all, to our Constitution, to see what it permits or enjoins, regarding the admission of new States.

The first paragraph of section 3, article iv., runs thus:

"New States may be admitted by the Congress into the Union; but no new State shall be formed or erected within the jurisdiction of any other State; nor any other State be formed by the junction of two or more States, or parts of States, without the consent of the legislatures of the States concerned, as well as of the Congress."

This passage is absolutely all and everything positive that the great instrument contains regarding the subject of admission-a subject on which our confederacy so materially differs from the federal States that have existed or are still in existence.

The passage consists of two parts: the one, containing the first eleven words, gives to Congress the right of admitting States; the other limiting this right in some essential points. We have to do with the first part only.

A simpler, plainer sentence never was written. It confers a right, and in doing so it uses the subjunctive. Congress may admit new States. It imposes no duty, except, as a matter of course, those implied duties, which every right and privilege imposes upon us, namely, to use and exercise it fairly, judiciously, and as upright men, impartially and candidly weighing the interests and claims of all parties concerned. It imposes the duty upon Congress. Congress is an assemblage of legislators in a high sphere, and the very right that is granted imposes the solemn duty of handling it in a statesmanlike manner, considering the welfare of ourselves, of the applicants, and of our country at large, having an honest eye to the spirit in which the same right may have been exercised on former occasions, and to the claims which may have fairly sprung up accordingly, seeking at the same time to obtain ampler information from the Constitution itself, and from the state of things which existed when the Constitution was adopted, or, which amounts nearly to the same thing, endeavoring to find the meaning of its provisions from the sense which the framers must be supposed to have attached to the words they used.

We repeat once more, the Constitution says that Congress may admit States. The framers were not unacquainted with the word shall. They have used it many times in the pact which they drew up for the country. They were not unskilled in prescribing limitations. The Constitution has throughout a strongly limitary character, and, in one respect, it may be said to possess a peculiarly` limitary character, inasmuch as it prescribes that Congress shall have no powers except those which are expressly granted in the instrument itself. In the case which occupies us, however, the Constitution is simply of a permissive character. It says: For fear that you may think we grant no power of admitting new States, if we do not mention it, we here declare that you may do so. And here it stops.

It does not add: If such or such number of people, apply under certain and fixed circumstances, you must do it. The Constitution prevents the United States from being a closed confederacy; it infuses the principle of expansiveness; it prevents the United States, in this respect, from being considered like the other federal republics that existed at

the time of their birth, and in which the existing number of States or provinces was fundamental and final. Our Constitution is an abstemious document.

If Congress must decide whether a State is to be admitted or not, it must be decided by votes; and what considerations ought to guide each member of that body, in deciding with manly directness of purpose and principle, waiving invidious secondary motives, what vote he ought to cast on so grave a question? The Constitution appeals to him for his vote, but he is not allowed arbitrarily, whimsically or selfishly, to decide the case "in his conscience;" as little as the juryman is, though his conscience also is appealed to. Man has never the right to act arbitrarily, whimsically or selfishly, and certainly not when he acts for his country.

We are well aware that there are persons, who entertain strange notions regarding the right of their voting whichever way they please, so soon as a vote by ballot is required. The ballot, they say, appeals by its very character to their conscience, and by conscience they mean, in fact, perfect arbitrariness. We have heard of a case which, if it were as it was reported, would serve as an illustration of what we mean. We suppose that it was erroneously given to us, and we prefer, therefore, to use it for our purpose as a mere supposition. Suppose, then, there is a college, chartered and rechartered several times, and in each of its charters it is distinctly stated that no religious test whatsoever shall be applied in the appointment of professors or the admission of students. A chair of one of the natural sciences is to be filled. Among the candidates for this chair is an individual, readily allowed on all hands to be of unblemished character and pre-eminently qualified by his acquirements and reputation, as well as by his skill in teaching, to fill it with honor, yet the majority of trustees vote against him, according to their conscience, as they say, because he happens to be a Unitarian. In this supposed case we say the trustees did not vote conscientiously, because, although appealed to for their ballot, into which no person had any right to inquire, the express command of the charter demanded that they should use no religious test, and they were not, in good faith and strict duty, permitted to do that by secret ballot, which they could not openly avow, or justify.

It is equally plain that, on the other hand, a man has no right to determine his vote by any motive he chooses, provided it be not in so many words prohibited. Woe to the man who has no better support or excuse for his actions than the mere absence of direct prohibition-in politics, in morals, in religion. Such a man is exemplified by the bibbing parson in Peregrine Pickle, who prefers drinking strong whisky to wine, because the Bible nowhere prohibits the drinking of punch; or, if a historical instance be preferred, by the Danish baron von Viereck, with whom a friend expostulated on the outrage that he had allowed his daughter actually to marry the king, the undivorced queen still living; whereupon the baron answered that he could find no passage in the Bible that prohibits a Danish king from having two lawful wives.

A member of Congress, required to vote on the admission of a new State into the Union, ought to ask himself these three questions:

Have the United States, by uniform action, and the course of their history, entered into an implied compact, required by good faith fairly to be carried out, that in due time a certain number of settlers, with a certain territory, be admitted?

Does the Constitution directly, or interpreted as all sound interpretation must be by common sense and good faith, demand or prohibit anything regarding admissions into the Union?

Are there any considerations which demand of me to withhold ny vote for admission, on the ground that by the admission, a foreign and disturbing element would be infused into that great and large State-system for which I, upon oath, am here to legislate?

The question of admission is one that relates to the Constitution, to good faith, to statesmanship and-like all acts of man-to sound morality in general.

The first of these questions can be easily answered. Ever since the passing of the famous ordinance of Congress, of the 13th of July, 1787-a law passed by the very founders of this government, and which, in its fifth clause, stipulates that whenever any of the said States (States contemplated to arise out of the territory to which this ordinance applies), shall contain 60,000 free inhabitants, such a State shall (and may before) be admitted on an equal footing with the original States in all respects whatever,