of this he deliberately sits down and writes
the following rubbish for an American magazine, with one eye on God
above and the other on a handsome cheque below:

"Constrained at the darkest hour humbly to confess that without God's
help I was helpless, I vowed a vow in the forest solitudes that I would
confess his aid before men. Silence, as of death, was round about me; it
was midnight; I was weakened by illness, prostrated by fatigue, and
wan with anxiety for my white and black companions, whose fate was a
mystery. In this physical and mental distress I besought God to give me
back my people. Nine hours later we were exulting with a rapturous joy.
In full view of all was the crimson flag with the crescent, and beneath
its waving folds was the long-lost rear column."

Danger and grief are apt to make us selfish, and no one would be hard
on Stanley for showing weakness in such circumstances. But he rather
glories in it. The danger is gone, and alas! the egotism remains. Others
perished miserably, but he escaped. Omnipotence took care of him and
let them go to the Devil. No doubt they prayed in their extremity as
heartily as he did, but their prayers were unheard or neglected. Stanley
was the lion of the party. Yes, and in parading his egotistic piety in
this way, he is in danger of becoming a _lion comique_.

There is something absolutely farcical in Stanley's logic. While he
was praying to God, millions of other persons were engaged in the same
occupation. Agonised mothers were beseeching God to spare their dear
children; wives were imploring him to restore the bread-winner of the
family to health; entombed miners were praying in the dark depths of
coalpits, and slowly perishing of starvation; shipwrecked sailors were
asking for the help that never came. Providence could not, apparently,
take on too much business at once, and while Stanley's fate trembled in
the balance the rest of mankind might shift for themselves.

But the farce does not end here. Stanley's attitude was much like
Jacob's. That smooth-skinned and smooth-tongued patriarch said that if
God would guarantee him a safe journey, feed him, clothe him, find him
pocket money, and bring him safe back again--well, then the Lord should
be his God. Stanley was not so exacting, but his attitude was similar.
He asked God to give him back his people (a few short, killed or
starved, did not matter), and promised in return to "confess his aid
before men." Give me