vernment must recognize the principle of universal
suffrage, because it proceeds upon, and, in its ripest form, must come
to that; but, as it is an operation or analytic before it is an ordered
form or synthetic in its character, it will, while forming or growing,
both restrict the rights of suffrage, and permit its subjects to a part
in government when they are not fully qualified therefor. Our freedmen,
then, are neither to be subjected contrary to the demands of their own
highest good, nor are they to become an element in government in
detriment to the public good. Hence they must not be controlled in _any
form_ of servitude to interested and selfish superiors, nor must they,
by partaking of the elective franchise, become, at present, active
participants in the government.

Our current national history must be regarded as singularly marked by
beneficent Providential design. At the same time that a people hitherto
despised and oppressed are emancipated from a dreadful thraldom, the
conditions attending such emancipation are forcing upon the nation a
system of industrial organization which we trust will not only prove
effective in all that pertains to their future welfare, but will, at the
same time, become the example of an organization that shall emancipate
and enthrone labor everywhere and in all conditions. Seeing thus the
light of day streaming in with unmarred radiance, dispelling every trace
of darkness and gloom, we cannot but thank God for His wise
dispensations, and with renewed hope and energy press onward toward the
glowing east to greet the rising sun.

OUT OF PRISON.

From crowds that scorn the mounting wings,
The happy heights of souls serene,
I wander where the blackbird sings,
And over bubbling, shadowy springs,
The beech-leaves cluster, young and green.

I know the forest's changeful tongue
That talketh all the day with me:
I trill in every bobolink's song,
And every brooklet bears along
My greeting to the chainless sea!

The loud wind laughs, the low wind broods;
There is no sorrow in the strain!
Of all the voices of the woods,
That haunt these houseless solitudes,
Not one has any tone of pain.

In merry round my days run free,
With slender thought for worldly things:
A little toil sufficeth me;
I live the life of bird and bee,
Nor fret for what the morrow brings.

Nor care, nor age, nor grief have I,
Only a measureless conten