290 
A CRUSADE IN THE EAST. 
because I would whip a muleteer for insolence or disorderly 
conduct, that I would, if placed in command of a ship, or at 
the head of a regiment, whip any of my officers for the same, 
or even a much greater offense. 5 ’ 
General (somewhat pacified).—■“ Of course not, Yusef ; 
certainly not. I never knew any commander, holding, a 
position of high authority, either in America or England, to 
contend for such an indiscriminate exercise of power as that. 
It gratifies me to observe, that ignorant and debased as you 
are, there are yet some enlightened principles of civilization 
not altogether unfamiliar to you.” 
Yusef (warmly).—“ Bless your generous heart, 0 General; 
I knew you’d do me justice ! I knew it by instinct! What, 
sir, flog an officer for getting drunk or insulting me ? No, sir. 
I’d take him aside and reprimand him ; I’d talk to him, like 
a brother, with tears in my eyes, or challenge him to mortal 
combat.” 
General. —“ Such is the practice in all enlightened com¬ 
munities ; and I must say, that with such principles, Yusef, 
you would be an ornament to any community, however 
skilled in the noble science of human destruction.” 
Yusef (enthusiastica]ly).—“ A noble—a glorious—a won¬ 
derful science ! 0 great and effulgent Chieftain ! brightest 
ornament of the City of Magnificent Distances ! not a night 
passes over the head of Yusef Badra that he doesn’t wallow 
in rivers of blood ! His bed is a bed of human skulls ! his 
pillow is the cold and clammy corpse of a fellow man ! the 
sweetest breath he inhales is the putrid effluvia of the dead ! 
the grinning and fleshless jaws of his enemies are smiling 
flowers to his heart; the ribs and joints that lie scattered 
around him are pleasant verdure to his eyes, refreshing them 
after the scorching heat of battle ; the wailing of the wid¬ 
owed for the dead, the moaning of the bereaved for lost 
friends and kindred, are dulcet sounds that thrill sweetly 
upon his ears ; all—all the visions that can give hope and 
inspiration to the warlike soul, diffuse themselves through the 
soul of Yusef Badra. Yet he wakes to find himself without 
a foe ; his very soul thirsting for blood, he finds but a das- 
