We are natives of this country; we ask only to be treated _as well_ as foreigners. Not a few of our fathers suffered and bled to purchase its independence; we ask only to be treated _as well_ as those who fought against it. We have toiled to cultivate it, and to raise it to its present prosperous condition; we ask only to share _equal_ privileges with those who come from distant lands to enjoy the fruits of our labor.--REV. PETER WILLIAMS, _colored Rector of St. Philip's Church, New York_, 1835. THE SLAVE POET. Mr. James Horton, of Chatham County, North Carolina, had a slave named George, who early manifested remarkable intelligence. He labored with a few other slaves on his master's farm, and was always honest, faithful, and industrious. He contrived to learn to read, and every moment that was allowed him for his own he devoted to reading. He was especially fond of poetry, which he read and learned by heart, wherever he could find it. After a time, he began to compose verses of his own. He did not know how to write; so when he had arranged his thoughts in rhyme, he spoke them aloud to others, who wrote them down for him. He was not contented in Slavery, as you will see by the following verses which he wrote:-- "Alas! and am I born for this, To wear this slavish chain? Deprived of all created bliss, Through hardship, toil, and pain? "How long have I in bondage lain, And languished to be free! Alas! and must I still complain, Deprived of liberty? "O Heaven! and is there no relief This side the silent grave, To soothe the pain, to quell the grief And anguish of a slave? "Come, Liberty! thou cheerful sound, Roll through my ravished ears; Come, let my grief in joys be drowned, And drive away my fears. "Say unto foul oppression, Cease! Ye tyrants, rage no more; And let the joyful trump of peace Now bid the vassal soar. "O Liberty! thou golden prize, So often sought by blood, We crave thy sacred sun to rise, The gift of Nature's God. "Bid Slavery hide her haggard face, And barbarism fly; I scorn to see the sad disgrace, In which enslaved I lie. "Dear Liberty! upon thy breast I languish to respire; And, like the swan unto her nest, I'd to thy smiles retire."