The remarks of Elder Orson Pratt are founded upon Constitutional
principles. I have long been aware that he was a profound
mathematician, but I was not aware that he was so thoroughly read in
Constitutional law, as his remarks this forenoon so fully evidence.
I went to Washington with Elder John Taylor in 1856; we were the
bearers of the Constitution of Deseret, adopted by the unanimous vote
of the whole people, and a memorial to the great men of the nation for
the admission of Deseret into the union of States upon an equal
footing with the original States.
When we arrived at the capitol we found the gates closed against our
admission by the acts of a national convention, pledging the great
and rising party of the country to united opposition to our
admission in consequence of an item of our religious faith being
objectionable. Notwithstanding this flat refusal before we had asked,
we conferred with many of the principal men of the nation—of all
parties by whom it was generally conceded we had a constitutional
right to admission, and that we had manifested that energy,
perseverance and intelligence in exploring, settling, and subduing
this country, which clearly proved that we were capable of
self-government, and able to sustain ourselves as a State. We had
organized a civilized community, framed a Constitution, republican in
form, and unexceptionable in principle and called into order an
efficient government. But, said Congressmen, there is an objection,
and although we ought not to name it, the religious views of your
people are objectionable to the great body of the American
people—Constitutionally this is no objection, but politically it is an
impassable barrier. For any member to vote for the admission of
Deseret, or advocate it would entail upon himself, what we all dread,
a political grave. "You must know, yourselves, you cannot help but
know," said Senator Douglas, "that there is an awful prejudice against
you—ahem! ahem! an insurmountable objection. We have no right to talk
of religious tests or institutions—ahem! ahem! but I know of but one
objection; your peculiar religion, your domestic institutions!"
Well might Congressmen use interjections while trembling between the
influence of priestcraft, and a solemn oath to support the
Constitution of the United States, and faithfully perform those duties
required by it.
The Constitution declares, "Congress shall make no law respecting an
establishment of religion, or prevent the free exercise thereof." "No
religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office
of public trust under the United States."
General Hall, of Missouri, who was at that time somewhat distinguished
for his prowess in knocking down the doorkeeper of the Democratic
National Convention, at Cincinnati, for refusing admittance to the
delegation of the Benton Wing of the Missouri Democracy, raised a new
and somewhat novel objection to our admission while canvassing the
subject with a company of gentlemen at the National Hotel in
Washington, he declared it would never do to admit Deseret, for it
would recognize polygamy, and that would ruin all the houses of
ill fame in the country, in a short time. Why, said he, no woman would
ever consent to become a prostitute if she could have a husband, who
would honor and protect her, and maintain and educate her children;
and under this new arrangement every woman could obtain such a husband
and protector, and every house of assignation would be closed, and the
gentlemen of the country undone.
I went on my Mission to Washington in full faith to ask for the
admission of Deseret, never asking myself the question whether I would
accomplish it or not, striving to believe with all the power and faith
I could command, that we would accomplish our Mission.
I sometimes sat in the gallery of the House of Representatives and
heard the members wrangle, and asked myself if it was possible that
the Lord wished us to join hands with such unhallowed confusion and
political chicanery. After my return home, some of the brethren asked
me how much faith I had that we should be admitted. I concluded my
faith had been like that of a certain pious lady, whose minister
called upon her and inquired concerning her religious welfare. She
replied that she was well satisfied with her spiritual progression, but in her temporal welfare she was not equally prosperous.
She was destitute of bread and had nothing to sustain life. The
minister kindly told her to exercise faith and she could make stones
into bread. She thanked him for his timely advice, she had never
thought of that, and accordingly went and procured some stones of
suitable size for loaves of bread, washed them, put them in pans,
heated her oven in which she placed them, closed the door, exclaimed,
"I have firm faith, that when these stones come out of the oven they
will be good bread." After patiently waiting the proper time, she
opened the oven door and looked anxiously in; "There!" she declared,
they are stones yet, and I knew they would be all the time.
- George A. Smith