troversy that had divided Mormon and Gentile in
Utah. He replied with an emphatic assurance of his purpose to keep those
pledges, and dismissed the subject with a finality that left no doubt in
my mind.

I know that he might have desired the Senatorship as a public
vindication, since, in the old days of quarrel, he had been legislated
out of his place in the House of Representatives; and, for the first
and only time in my life, I undertook to philosophize some comfort for
him--out of the fact that to the position of authority which he held in
Utah a Senatorship was a descent. He replied dryly: "I understand, my
son--perfectly." The fact was that he needed no comfort from me or any
other human being. He seemed all--sufficient to himself, because of the
abiding sense he had of the constant presence of God and his habit of
communing with that Spirit, instead of seeking human intercourse or
earthly counsel. He did not need my affection. He did not need, much
less seek, the approbation of any man. In the events to which this
conversation was a prelude, he acted without explaining himself to me or
to anyone else, and apparently without caring in the slightest what my
opinion or any other man's might be of his course or of the motives that
prompted it.

Some months later, in the office of the Presidency (at a business
meeting with him, Colonel Clayton and Joseph F. Smith), I excused myself
from attending any further sittings of the committee for that day,
because I had to go to Provo to receive the Republican nomination for
Congress.

My father said: "I am sorry to hear it. I thought Judge Zane--or someone
else would be nominated. I wished you to be free to help with these
business matters. Why have you not consulted us?"

I reminded him that I had told him, some weeks before, that I expected
to be nominated for Congress this year--and that I was practically
certain, if elected, of going to the Senate when we were granted
statehood. "I talked with you, then, as my father," I said. "But I'm
sure you'll remember that I have not consulted you as a leader of the
Church, or any of your colleagues as leaders of the Church, on the
subject of partisan politics since the People's Party was dissolved."

He accepted this mild declaration of political independence without
protest, and I went to Provo, happily, a free man. The Republicans
nominated me by acclamation, and the chairman of the committee that came
to offer me the nominat