The autobiography of Sir Henry Morton Stanley, G.C.B.Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton)
History
The autobiography of Sir Henry Morton Stanley, G.C.B.
Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton)
Africa, Central -- Biography; Explorers -- Africa -- Biography; Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton), 1841-1904
An original method of instruction which he practised with me was to
present me different circumstances, and ask me what I would do. These
were generally difficult cases, wherein honesty, honour, and
right-doing, were involved. No sooner had I answered, than he would
press me with another view of it, wherein it appeared that his view was
just as fair as the one I had; and he would so perplex me that I would
feel quite foolish. For instance, a fellow-clerk of mine was secretly
dishonest, but was attached to me in friendship. He made free with his
employer’s till, and one day was discovered by me alone. What would I
do? I would dissuade him. But supposing, despite his promises to you, he
was still continuing to abstract small sums: what then? I would accuse
him of it, and say to him he was a thief. Supposing that, seeing you
could give no positive proof of his theft, he denied it? Then he would
be a liar, too, and there would be a quarrel. And what then? That is
all. What of the employer? In what way? Is he not in question? does he
not pay you for looking after his interests? But I do look after his
interests, in trying to prevent the theft. And yet, with all your care
of his interests, the pilfering goes on, and nobody knows it but you.
You think, then, that I ought to tell on him, and ruin him? Well, when
you engaged with your employer, did you not make something of a bargain
with him, that, for a certain wage, you would make his interests your
own, and keep him duly informed of all that was going on?
This is one example of the painstaking way in which he would stir up my
reasoning powers. When we walked through the streets, he would call my
attention to the faces of the passers-by, and would question me as to
what professions or trades they belonged to; and, when I replied that I
could not guess them, he would tell me that my eyes were the lamps to my
feet, and the guides to my understanding, and would show me that though
I might not guess accurately each time, in many instances I might arrive
at the truth, and that, whether wrong or right, the attempt to do so was
an exercise of the intellect, and would greatly tend, in time, to
sharpen my wits.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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