And in another part thereof, the following, viz: "I (meaning the said Crandall) am not unaware that my remarks may be regarded by many as dangerous and exceptionable; that I may be regarded as a fanatic for quoting the language of eternal truth; and denounced as an incendiary for maintaining in the spirit, as well as the letter, the doctrines of American Independence. But if such are the consequences of a simple performance of duty, I shall not regard them. If my feeble appeal but reaches the hearts of any who are now slumbering in iniquity; if it shall have power given it to shake down one stone from that foul temple where the blood of human victims is offered to the moloch of slavery; if, under Providence, it can break one fetter from off the image of God, and enable one suffering African ------------To feel The weight of human misery less, and glide Ungroaning to the tomb-- I shall not have written in vain; my conscience will be satisfied. Far be it from me to cast new bitters in the gall and wormwood waters of sectional prejudice. No, I desire peace--the peace of universal love--of catholic sympathy--the peace of common interest--a common feeling--a common humanity. But so long as slavery is tolerated, no such peace can exist. Liberty and slavery cannot dwell in harmony together. There will be a perpetual war in the members of the political _Mezentius_--between the living and the dead. God and man have placed between them an everlasting barrier--an eternal separation. No matter under what law or compact their union is attempted, the ordination of Providence has forbidden it--and it cannot stand. Peace! there can be no peace between justice and oppression--between robbery and righteousness--truth and falsehood--freedom and slavery. The slaveholding States are not free. The name of Liberty is there, but the spirit is wanting. They do not partake of its invaluable blessings. "Wherever slavery exists to any considerable extent, with the exception of some recently settled portions of the country, and which have not yet felt, in a great degree, the baneful and deteriorating influence of slave labor--we hear, at this moment, the cry of suffering. We are told of grass-grown streets--of crumbling mansions--of beggared planters, and barren plantations--of fear from without--of terror within. The once fertile fields are wasted and tenantless: for the curse of slavery--the improvidence of that laborer whose hire has been kept back by fraud--has been there, poisoning the very earth, beyond the reviving influence of the early and the latter rain. A moral mildew mingles with, and blasts the economy of nature. It is as if the finger of the everlasting God had written upon the soil of the slaveholder the language of his displeasure.