question to the people, but then, referring the matter to every individual voter, it declared that the Republican party as such had no opinion to express, no advice to give on the subject. Look at this; the question of reënfranchisement was the only one agitating the public mind, the only one prominently in issue before the people of Missouri. And that the great ruling party of the State should in its platform declare its neutrality, as a party, as to the only great question in controversy, a question so greatly affecting the future welfare of the State, was in the very nature of things so utterly absurd and ridiculous that you would search the history of parties in vain for a parallel. It amounted, in fact, to a confession either of imbecility or of cowardice: of imbecility, if the party had no opinion to express upon the subject; or of cowardice, if it had an opinion and did not dare to say so.
But that was not the worst feature of it. It was a fraud on its very face. In reiterating the promise that disfranchisement should be removed when compatible with the safety of the State, it virtually denied that it was already compatible with the safety of the State. If not then, under the circumstances prevailing, when would it be? The repetition of an indefinite promise was, therefore, the repudiation of a promise already due; the redemption of a pledge by another pledge, accompanied by the demonstration that the binding force of the pledge was not acknowledged. The honesty of the party stood in a worse light than Micawber's, when, after giving his due-bill for a debt long due, he exclaimed, “Thank God, that debt is paid, and I can once more raise my head as an honest man.”
But even that was not the worst feature of it. It was a declaration of neutrality and an indefinite promise only in appearance. It was the device of the enemies of the constitutional amendment to defeat that measure. The
