Accosted one of my merchant acquaintances, playing with some iron manacles and fetters for the legs. It did not strike me at first what they were: at last, he says to me, "These are for slaves, each has a pair of them, to prevent them from escaping when travelling through The Desert." A painful shuddering came over me to see a man playing with these dreadful instruments of the slavery and torture of his fellow men. Yet he played with them as his rosary of beads, or some simple toy! . . . . . Another merchant came up to him, and observed, "The irons for the neck are better, as these may break." After a pause, I asked my acquaintance where these irons for the legs were made? He replied, "In Soudan; the people there have iron mountains, and they make these irons for slaves in that country." I asked him then how much they cost, and whether he would sell them. They were not for sale. So Africa enslaves herself! forges the very chains of her own slavery. Cruel, heartless Europe! Thou that knowest better, encouragest the wretched African to create his own misery; to dig from his dark purple mountains the very iron fetters of his own slavery! Take care that slavery does not surprise thee in an hour when thou thinkest not, though thou art never so wise, never so free! Another Corsican tyrant may come and bind thee down anew in the chains of slavery. . . . . . . Making inquiries of the Moors about these fetters, they said, (wishing to smooth down the matter, seeing it was disagreeable to me), "Only those who seek to escape are chained." This, indeed, afterwards I found was the case. "Some," they added, "have irons on their necks, and others irons on their legs." Alas! poor people, what have they done to be thus ironed? or what right have others to iron them? Has God said "_Thou shalt iron thy brother and make him a slave_?" "Yes!" say the free republicans of America, who, for being taxed for half an ounce of tea, proclaimed their _freedom_ and independence of the _tyranny_ of the parent country, in words which, continuing as they are, slave-holders, must condemn them to everlasting infamy[47]. But, as God lives, he will have a day of reckoning; he will avenge the wrongs of Africa! . . . . . Be sure, beware America! . . . . . Whilst walking through the streets to-day, in a bad humour on this subject, there were three Bornou youths, nearly naked, offered for sale, I think they belonged to the Tibboo. Some Arabs sitting near, asked me to buy. I replied, indignantly, "If I buy, my Sultan will hang me up, and you too." They stared at one another, and muttered something like a curse upon me.