All crimes shall cease, and ancient frauds shall fail; Returning Justice lift aloft her scale; Peace o'er the world her olive wand extend, And white rob'd Innocence from Heaven descend.
The dumb shall sing—the lame his crutch forego, And leap exulting like the bounding roe. No sigh, no murmur, the wide world shall hear, From every face He wipes off every tear.
No more shall nation against nation rise, Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes, But useless lances into scythes shall bend, And the broad falchion in a ploughshare end.
The swain in barren deserts with surprise, Sees lilies spring and sudden verdure rise; And starts, amidst the thirsty wilds, to hear, New falls of water murmuring in his ear.
The steer and lion at one crib shall meet, And harmless serpents lick the pilgrim's feet. The smiling infant in his hand shall take, The crested basilisk and speckled snake.
Afternoon, went to see the slaves lately brought from Bornou. They were as much like merchandize as they could be, or human beings could be made to resemble it. They were entirely naked, with the exception of a strip of tanned skin tied round the loins. All were nearly alike, as so many goods packed up of the same quality. They were very thin, and almost skeletons, about the age of from ten to fifteen years, with the round Bornouse features strongly marked upon their countenances. These slaves are the property of a Tibboo. I invited the Tibboo home to my house, to glean some information from him. The Tibboo bought the slaves on speculation in Bornou; he could now sell them at from forty to fifty dollars each. He had only six; the Touaricks had thirty-four. He came from Bornou to Ghat, thence to Ghadames. He had also some elephants' teeth. The Tibboo pressed me to buy his slaves; he had not yet found purchasers, though he had been here some days. The merchants have no money, or none to buy slaves. The Tibboo drank some tea with me, which he observed was better than bouzah, fermented grain liquor. The Tibboo was a young black, tall and slender, and of mild and not disagreeable features. There was nothing in him to denote that he was a common trafficker in human flesh and blood. He was not so much stamped with the negro features as his slaves; he was, indeed, as much of a gentleman as a Presbyterian slave-holder of the United States, patronized by Doctors Cunningham and Candlish, and admitted to the fellowship of Free Kirk Saints. The Tibboo was excessively curious about me, the Christian. He handled and turned over everything I had. Seeing my naked (white) arm, he exclaimed, "Whiter than the moon!" Said did not approve of my new acquaintance, and declared all the Tibboos rascals; and thinks he recollects that he was made a slave by the Tibboos. Said was very angry with me for giving the Tibboo tea—wouldn't make any more for him—I might make it myself. The Tibboo showed his sense of my attention, by giving me some trona, which he says abounds in Bornou, and is called konwa. He champs it in its hard crystalline state, like children champing sugar-candy. He mixes it with his tobacco, and says it is pulverized and drank in solution for medicine at Bornou, like Epsom salts, producing the same effects.
Two people left to-day for Ghat, and two for Timbuctoo. The latter were the headmen of the large mercantile firm of Ettanee. It is the custom of Saharan merchants to send their headmen, and even slaves, to these distant countries, when circumstances prevent them going themselves.
My friend the Touatee, who unites in himself a blacksmith and a silversmith, was this evening employed in making ladies' ornaments for arms and legs. He was in the course of finishing a pair of anclets, weighing together about thirty-eight ounces. Each anclet would cost 20 dollars. They are for an Arab lady; but, of course, the husband invests his money in this way until he can find profitable employment for it, or becomes distressed. "Meanwhile," says the Touatee, "he has the kisses of his wife for the investment, and is happier than if he obtained a hundred per cent. for his outlay of silver." The old Touatee distinctly recollects Major Laing passing through Ghadames to Timbuctoo. The account he gives of him is:—"When in Ghadames the Rais (or Major) purchased something of every thing he could find in our city, as well as specimens of Soudan manufacture. He had with him thirty-six bottles of wine! which I counted. He was attacked by the Touaricks near Touat, and wounded in twenty places; but he cured his wounds, and then proceeded on and arrived safe at Timbuctoo, where he stopped some time. Afterwards he went to Sansandy, where he was murdered." The unfortunate Major had no money in his possession when murdered, which greatly surprised the assassins, who murdered him merely for his money. People add, he wrote every thing in Timbuctoo, but did not stop long there. He was enticed to go away with a stranger, against the advice of the parties who conducted him to Timbuctoo. The stranger was a Saharan Arab. One of them is still living, Haj Kader, and left lately for Touat, who has the reputation of being a quiet and upright man. I did not hear of him until he was gone, otherwise I should have had some conversation with him about the Major. The other party died at Timbuctoo; he was called the Marabout, and seems to have been another Mohammed (my marabout.) In a letter of the Major, read to me by Colonel Warrington, his father-in-law, the Major charges his Marabout with having stolen his double-barrelled gun, and sent it on to Timbuctoo for sale before they arrived there. For this theft, and other bad conduct, old Yousef Bashaw made a formal complaint against the people of Ghadames, and mulcted them several thousand mahboubs. Mr. Gagliuffi heard a strange story about the Major; according to which, he was murdered near Touat, on his return, by the same Touarick who stopped him, and wounded him in twenty-six places, on his way thither, the Touarick alleging, that the Major was not a man but a devil, so he (the Touarick) was obliged to kill him. No authentic account now will ever be collected of Major Laing's death. That he was stopped a couple of days beyond Aghobly, in the oases of Touat, and there wounded, is certain; we have the Major's own account for it. He seems also to have remained a month at Timbuctoo, and wrote a full account of that mysterious city. He then, not being able to ascend or trace the Niger viâ Jinnee, on account of the objections of the people, made a détour through The Desert, wishing to go to Senegambia, when, after four days' journey, he was stopped by a party of Arabs, and murdered. Some persist in saying, that Caillié found Major Laing's papers, and gave them as his own account of Timbuctoo. I should be sorry to attempt either to prove or contradict the charge. All the documents are in possession of the family of the late Colonel Warrington. We must suspend our opinion until they are published, which I trust will not be long.
Afterwards visited the Rais, who is, like myself, very fond of the Touatee. His Excellency had a bad headache, and his major-domo was hard at work rubbing his head with his hands. I laughed, but said nothing. The people are fond of manipulation, and shampooning (Temras). Whenever any one hurts himself by bruises or falls, the limb affected is rubbed and stretched, and stretched and rubbed, until the poor sufferer's limb is nearly severed from his body. Manipulation ought to have made the fourth mode of cure laid down by my marabout, after burning, blood-letting, and talismanic writing. However, I believe manipulation, aided by the bath, frequently effects important cures. Some Moors indeed, consider this the sovereign remedy for every hurt and disease. Found the Touatee again with the Rais. He amused us both by giving his opinion about the inexhaustible supply of slaves furnished by Nigritia. "All other countries," said he, "die and become depopulated. It is now ten thousand years we go to buy slaves in Soudan. The oftener we go there the more we find. In that country the men are all night long begetting children, and the women all the morning bringing them forth. This is the reason the supply of slaves never becomes exhausted."
7th.—Said has just come in and told me I must not eat many of the dates of this country, for they have killed some of the soldiers, and will kill me. Dates may, indeed, injure the poor soldiers, who have nothing else to eat. One died yesterday. I asked his comrades what he died of, who replied, "Hunger." It is a disgrace to the Government of Tripoli to keep these wretched Arabs without any thing to eat. Why not let them go to their native mountain homes; for there, though they may pine away and die in the caverns of the Atlas, they will nevertheless give up the ghost in the arms of friends and relations—joining misery to misery, where the miserable may comfort the miserable. But, here, amidst the rude buffs of strangers, it is cruel to let them die like dogs.