diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:20:42 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:20:42 -0700 |
| commit | 08a05f64c86fa6d27b8f640d524070d014f2cdca (patch) | |
| tree | b4fe1b1748990b21b24e1a5a7341e246d2c84d39 /3188-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '3188-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 3188-h/3188-h.htm | 11836 |
1 files changed, 11836 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/3188-h/3188-h.htm b/3188-h/3188-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cddcbe7 --- /dev/null +++ b/3188-h/3188-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11836 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Mark Twain's Speeches, by Mark Twain + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +Project Gutenberg’s Mark Twain’s Speeches, by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Mark Twain’s Speeches + +Author: Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) + +Release Date: August 19, 2006 [EBook #3188] +Last Updated: May 25, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARK TWAIN’S SPEECHES *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1> + MARK TWAIN’S SPEECHES + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + by Mark Twain + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_INTR"> INTRODUCTION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> THE STORY OF A SPEECH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> PLYMOUTH ROCK AND THE PILGRIMS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> COMPLIMENTS AND DEGREES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> BOOKS, AUTHORS, AND HATS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> DEDICATION SPEECH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> DIE SCHRECKEN DER DEUTSCHEN SPRACHE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> GERMAN FOR THE HUNGARIANS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> A NEW GERMAN WORD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> UNCONSCIOUS PLAGIARISM </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> THE WEATHER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> THE BABIES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> OUR CHILDREN AND GREAT DISCOVERIES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> EDUCATING THEATRE-GOERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> THE EDUCATIONAL THEATRE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> POETS AS POLICEMEN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> PUDD’NHEAD WILSON DRAMATIZED </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> DALY THEATRE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> THE DRESS OF CIVILIZED WOMAN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> DRESS REFORM AND COPYRIGHT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> COLLEGE GIRLS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> GIRLS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> THE LADIES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> WOMAN’S PRESS CLUB </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> VOTES FOR WOMEN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> WOMAN-AN OPINION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> ADVICE TO GIRLS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> TAXES AND MORALS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> TAMMANY AND CROKER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> MUNICIPAL CORRUPTION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> MUNICIPAL GOVERNMENT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> CHINA AND THE PHILIPPINES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0034"> THEORETICAL MORALS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0035"> LAYMAN’S SERMON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0036"> UNIVERSITY SETTLEMENT SOCIETY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0037"> PUBLIC EDUCATION ASSOCIATION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0038"> EDUCATION AND CITIZENSHIP </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0039"> COURAGE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0040"> THE DINNER TO MR. CHOATE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0041"> ON STANLEY AND LIVINGSTONE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0042"> HENRY M. STANLEY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0043"> DINNER TO MR. JEROME </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0044"> HENRY IRVING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0045"> DINNER TO HAMILTON W. MABIE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0046"> INTRODUCING NYE AND RILEY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0047"> DINNER TO WHITELAW REID </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0048"> ROGERS AND RAILROADS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0049"> THE OLD-FASHIONED PRINTER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0050"> SOCIETY OF AMERICAN AUTHORS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0051"> READING-ROOM OPENING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0052"> LITERATURE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0053"> DISAPPEARANCE OF LITERATURE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0054"> THE NEW YORK PRESS CLUB DINNER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0055"> THE ALPHABET AND SIMPLIFIED SPELLING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0056"> SPELLING AND PICTURES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0057"> BOOKS AND BURGLARS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0058"> AUTHORS’ CLUB </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0059"> BOOKSELLERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0060"> “MARK TWAIN’S FIRST APPEARANCE” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0061"> MORALS AND MEMORY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0062"> QUEEN VICTORIA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0063"> JOAN OF ARC </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0064"> ACCIDENT INSURANCE—ETC. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0065"> OSTEOPATHY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0066"> WATER-SUPPLY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0067"> MISTAKEN IDENTITY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0068"> CATS AND CANDY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0069"> OBITUARY POETRY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0070"> CIGARS AND TOBACCO </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0071"> BILLIARDS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0072"> THE UNION RIGHT OR WRONG </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0073"> AN IDEAL FRENCH ADDRESS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0074"> STATISTICS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0075"> GALVESTON ORPHAN BAZAAR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0076"> SAN FRANCISCO EARTHQUAKE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0077"> CHARITY AND ACTORS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0078"> RUSSIAN REPUBLIC </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0079"> RUSSIAN SUFFERERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0080"> WATTERSON AND TWAIN AS REBELS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0081"> ROBERT FULTON FUND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0082"> FULTON DAY, JAMESTOWN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0083"> LOTOS CLUB DINNER IN HONOR OF MARK TWAIN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0084"> COPYRIGHT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0085"> IN AID OF THE BLIND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0086"> DR. MARK TWAIN, FARMEOPATH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0087"> MISSOURI UNIVERSITY SPEECH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0088"> BUSINESS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0089"> CARNEGIE THE BENEFACTOR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0090"> ON POETRY, VERACITY, AND SUICIDE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0091"> WELCOME HOME </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0092"> AN UNDELIVERED SPEECH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0093"> SIXTY-SEVENTH BIRTHDAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0094"> TO THE WHITEFRIARS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0095"> THE ASCOT GOLD CUP </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0096"> THE SAVAGE CLUB DINNER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0097"> GENERAL MILES AND THE DOG </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0098"> WHEN IN DOUBT, TELL THE TRUTH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0099"> THE DAY WE CELEBRATE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0100"> INDEPENDENCE DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0101"> AMERICANS AND THE ENGLISH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0102"> ABOUT LONDON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0103"> PRINCETON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0104"> THE ST. LOUIS HARBOR-BOAT “MARK TWAIN” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0105"> SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_INTR" id="link2H_INTR"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + INTRODUCTION + </h2> + <p> + These speeches will address themselves to the minds and hearts of those + who read them, but not with the effect they had with those who heard them; + Clemens himself would have said, not with half the effect. I have noted + elsewhere how he always held that the actor doubled the value of the + author’s words; and he was a great actor as well as a great author. He was + a most consummate actor, with this difference from other actors, that he + was the first to know the thoughts and invent the fancies to which his + voice and action gave the color of life. Representation is the art of + other actors; his art was creative as well as representative; it was + nothing at second hand. + </p> + <p> + I never heard Clemens speak when I thought he quite failed; some burst or + spurt redeemed him when he seemed flagging short of the goal, and, whoever + else was in the running, he came in ahead. His near-failures were the + error of a rare trust to the spontaneity in which other speakers confide, + or are believed to confide, when they are on their feet. He knew that from + the beginning of oratory the orator’s spontaneity was for the silence and + solitude of the closet where he mused his words to an imagined audience; + that this was the use of orators from Demosthenes and Cicero up and down. + He studied every word and syllable, and memorized them by a system of + mnemonics peculiar to himself, consisting of an arbitrary arrangement of + things on a table—knives, forks, salt-cellars; inkstands, pens, + boxes, or whatever was at hand—which stood for points and clauses + and climaxes, and were at once indelible diction and constant suggestion. + He studied every tone and every gesture, and he forecast the result with + the real audience from its result with that imagined audience. Therefore, + it was beautiful to see him and to hear him; he rejoiced in the pleasure + he gave and the blows of surprise which he dealt; and because he had his + end in mind, he knew when to stop. + </p> + <p> + I have been talking of his method and manner; the matter the reader has + here before him; and it is good matter, glad, honest, kind, just. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + W. D. HOWELLS. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PREFACE + </h2> + <h3> + FROM THE PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION OF “MARK TWAIN’S SKETCHES” + </h3> + <p> + If I were to sell the reader a barrel of molasses, and he, instead of + sweetening his substantial dinner with the same at judicious intervals, + should eat the entire barrel at one sitting, and then abuse me for making + him sick, I would say that he deserved to be made sick for not knowing any + better how to utilize the blessings this world affords. And if I sell to + the reader this volume of nonsense, and he, instead of seasoning his + graver reading with a chapter of it now and then, when his mind demands + such relaxation, unwisely overdoses himself with several chapters of it at + a single sitting, he will deserve to be nauseated, and he will have nobody + to blame but himself if he is. There is no more sin in publishing an + entire volume of nonsense than there is in keeping a candy-store with no + hardware in it. It lies wholly with the customer whether he will injure + himself by means of either, or will derive from them the benefits which + they will afford him if he uses their possibilities judiciously. + </p> + <p> + Respectfully submitted, + </p> + <p> + THE AUTHOR. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + MARK TWAIN’S SPEECHES +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE STORY OF A SPEECH + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + An address delivered in 1877, and a review of it twenty-nine + years later. The original speech was delivered at a dinner + given by the publishers of The Atlantic Monthly in honor of the + seventieth anniversary o f the birth of John Greenleaf + Whittier, at the Hotel Brunswick, Boston, December 17, 1877. +</pre> + <p> + This is an occasion peculiarly meet for the digging up of pleasant + reminiscences concerning literary folk; therefore I will drop lightly into + history myself. Standing here on the shore of the Atlantic and + contemplating certain of its largest literary billows, I am reminded of a + thing which happened to me thirteen years ago, when I had just succeeded + in stirring up a little Nevadian literary puddle myself, whose + spume-flakes were beginning to blow thinly Californiaward. I started an + inspection tramp through the southern mines of California. I was callow + and conceited, and I resolved to try the virtue of my ‘nom de guerre’. + </p> + <p> + I very soon had an opportunity. I knocked at a miner’s lonely log cabin in + the foot-hills of the Sierras just at nightfall. It was snowing at the + time. A jaded, melancholy man of fifty, barefooted, opened the door to me. + When he heard my ‘nom de guerre’ he looked more dejected than before. He + let me in—pretty reluctantly, I thought—and after the + customary bacon and beans, black coffee and hot whiskey, I took a pipe. + This sorrowful man had not said three words up to this time. Now he spoke + up and said, in the voice of one who is secretly suffering, “You’re the + fourth—I’m going to move.” “The fourth what?” said I. “The fourth + littery man that has been here in twenty-four hours—I’m going to + move.” “You don’t tell me!” said I; “who were the others?” “Mr. + Longfellow, Mr. Emerson, and Mr. Oliver Wendell Holmes—consound the + lot!” + </p> + <p> + You can easily believe I was interested. I supplicated—three hot + whiskeys did the rest—and finally the melancholy miner began. Said + he: + </p> + <p> + “They came here just at dark yesterday evening, and I let them in of + course. Said they were going to the Yosemite. They were a rough lot, but + that’s nothing; everybody looks rough that travels afoot. Mr. Emerson was + a seedy little bit of a chap, red-headed. Mr. Holmes was as fat as a + balloon; he weighed as much as three hundred, and had double chins all the + way down to his stomach. Mr. Longfellow was built like a prizefighter. His + head was cropped and bristly, like as if he had a wig made of + hair-brushes. His nose lay straight down his face, like a finger with the + end joint tilted up. They had been drinking, I could see that. And what + queer talk they used! Mr. Holmes inspected this cabin, then he took me by + the buttonhole, and says he: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘Through the deep caves of thought + I hear a voice that sings, + Build thee more stately mansions, + O my soul!’ +</pre> + <p> + “Says I, ‘I can’t afford it, Mr. Holmes, and moreover I don’t want to.’ + Blamed if I liked it pretty well, either, coming from a stranger, that + way. However, I started to get out my bacon and beans, when Mr. Emerson + came and looked on awhile, and then he takes me aside by the buttonhole + and says: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘Give me agates for my meat; + Give me cantharids to eat; + From air and ocean bring me foods, + From all zones and altitudes.’ +</pre> + <p> + “Says I, ‘Mr. Emerson, if you’ll excuse me, this ain’t no hotel.’ You see + it sort of riled me—I warn’t used to the ways of littery swells. But + I went on a-sweating over my work, and next comes Mr. Longfellow and + buttonholes me, and interrupts me. Says he: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘Honor be to Mudjekeewis! + You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis—’ +</pre> + <p> + “But I broke in, and says I, ‘Beg your pardon, Mr. Longfellow, if you’ll + be so kind as to hold your yawp for about five minutes and let me get this + grub ready, you’ll do me proud.’ Well, sir, after they’d filled up I set + out the jug. Mr. Holmes looks at it, and then he fires up all of a sudden + and yells: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Flash out a stream of blood-red wine! + For I would drink to other days.’ +</pre> + <p> + “By George, I was getting kind of worked up. I don’t deny it, I was + getting kind of worked up. I turns to Mr. Holmes, and says I, ‘Looky here, + my fat friend, I’m a-running this shanty, and if the court knows herself, + you’ll take whiskey straight or you’ll go dry.’ Them’s the very words I + said to him. Now I don’t want to sass such famous littery people, but you + see they kind of forced me. There ain’t nothing onreasonable ’bout me; I + don’t mind a passel of guests a-treadin’ on my tail three or four times, + but when it comes to standing on it it’s different, ‘and if the court + knows herself,’ I says, ’you’ll take whiskey straight or you’ll go dry.’ + Well, between drinks they’d swell around the cabin and strike attitudes + and spout; and pretty soon they got out a greasy old deck and went to + playing euchre at ten cents a corner—on trust. I began to notice + some pretty suspicious things. Mr. Emerson dealt, looked at his hand, + shook his head, says: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘I am the doubter and the doubt—’ +</pre> + <p> + and ca’mly bunched the hands and went to shuffling for a new layout. Says + he: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘They reckon ill who leave me out; + They know not well the subtle ways I keep. + I pass and deal again!’ +</pre> + <p> + Hang’d if he didn’t go ahead and do it, too! Oh, he was a cool one! Well, + in about a minute things were running pretty tight, but all of a sudden I + see by Mr. Emerson’s eye he judged he had ’em. He had already corralled + two tricks, and each of the others one. So now he kind of lifts a little + in his chair and says: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘I tire of globes and aces! + Too long the game is played!’ +</pre> +<p> +—and down he fetched a right bower. Mr. Longfellow smiles as sweet as +pie and says: +</p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, + For the lesson thou hast taught,’ +</pre> +<p> +—and blamed if he didn’t down with another right bower! Emerson claps +his hand on his bowie, Longfellow claps his on his revolver, and I went +under a bunk. There was going to be trouble; but that monstrous Holmes +rose up, wobbling his double chins, and says he, ‘Order, gentlemen; the +first man that draws, I’ll lay down on him and smother him!’ All quiet +on the Potomac, you bet! +</p> + <p> + “They were pretty how-come-you-so by now, and they begun to blow. Emerson + says, ‘The nobbiest thing I ever wrote was “Barbara Frietchie.”’ Says + Longfellow, ‘It don’t begin with my “Biglow Papers.”’ Says Holmes, ‘My + “Thanatopsis” lays over ’em both.’ They mighty near ended in a fight. Then + they wished they had some more company—and Mr. Emerson pointed to me + and says: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘Is yonder squalid peasant all + That this proud nursery could breed?’ +</pre> + <p> + He was a-whetting his bowie on his boot—so I let it pass. Well, sir, + next they took it into their heads that they would like some music; so + they made me stand up and sing “When Johnny Comes Marching Home” till I + dropped-at thirteen minutes past four this morning. That’s what I’ve been + through, my friend. When I woke at seven, they were leaving, thank + goodness, and Mr. Longfellow had my only boots on, and his’n under his + arm. Says I, ‘Hold on, there, Evangeline, what are you going to do with + them?’ He says, ‘Going to make tracks with ’em; because: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘Lives of great men all remind us + We can make our lives sublime; + And, departing, leave behind us + Footprints on the sands of time.’ +</pre> + <p> + “As I said, Mr. Twain, you are the fourth in twenty-four hours—and + I’m going to move; I ain’t suited to a littery atmosphere.” + </p> + <p> + I said to the miner, “Why, my dear sir, these were not the gracious + singers to whom we and the world pay loving reverence and homage; these + were impostors.” + </p> + <p> + The miner investigated me with a calm eye for a while; then said he, “Ah! + impostors, were they? Are you?” + </p> + <p> + I did not pursue the subject, and since then I have not travelled on my + ‘nom de guerre’ enough to hurt. Such was the reminiscence I was moved to + contribute, Mr. Chairman. In my enthusiasm I may have exaggerated the + details a little, but you will easily forgive me that fault, since I + believe it is the first time I have ever deflected from perpendicular fact + on an occasion like this. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ......................... +</pre> + <p> + From Mark Twain’s Autobiography. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + January 11, 1906. +</pre> + <p> + Answer to a letter received this morning: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + DEAR MRS. H.,—I am forever your debtor for reminding me of that + curious passage in my life. During the first year or, two after it + happened, I could not bear to think of it. My pain and shame were + so intense, and my sense of having been an imbecile so settled, + established and confirmed, that I drove the episode entirely from my + mind—and so all these twenty-eight or twenty-nine years I have + lived in the conviction that my performance of that time was coarse, + vulgar, and destitute of humor. But your suggestion that you and + your family found humor in it twenty-eight years ago moved me to + look into the matter. So I commissioned a Boston typewriter to + delve among the Boston papers of that bygone time and send me a copy + of it. + + It came this morning, and if there is any vulgarity about it I am + not able to discover it. If it isn’t innocently and ridiculously + funny, I am no judge. I will see to it that you get a copy. +</pre> + <p> + What I have said to Mrs. H. is true. I did suffer during a year or two + from the deep humiliations of that episode. But at last, in 1888, in + Venice, my wife and I came across Mr. and Mrs. A. P. C., of Concord, + Massachusetts, and a friendship began then of the sort which nothing but + death terminates. The C.’s were very bright people and in every way + charming and companionable. We were together a month or two in Venice and + several months in Rome, afterward, and one day that lamented break of mine + was mentioned. And when I was on the point of lathering those people for + bringing it to my mind when I had gotten the memory of it almost + squelched, I perceived with joy that the C.’s were indignant about the way + that my performance had been received in Boston. They poured out their + opinions most freely and frankly about the frosty attitude of the people + who were present at that performance, and about the Boston newspapers for + the position they had taken in regard to the matter. That position was + that I had been irreverent beyond belief, beyond imagination. Very well; I + had accepted that as a fact for a year or two, and had been thoroughly + miserable about it whenever I thought of it—which was not + frequently, if I could help it. Whenever I thought of it I wondered how I + ever could have been inspired to do so unholy a thing. Well, the C.’s + comforted me, but they did not persuade me to continue to think about the + unhappy episode. I resisted that. I tried to get it out of my mind, and + let it die, and I succeeded. Until Mrs. H.’s letter came, it had been a + good twenty-five years since I had thought of that matter; and when she + said that the thing was funny I wondered if possibly she might be right. + At any rate, my curiosity was aroused, and I wrote to Boston and got the + whole thing copied, as above set forth. + </p> + <p> + I vaguely remember some of the details of that gathering—dimly I can + see a hundred people—no, perhaps fifty—shadowy figures sitting + at tables feeding, ghosts now to me, and nameless forevermore. I don’t + know who they were, but I can very distinctly see, seated at the grand + table and facing the rest of us, Mr. Emerson, supernaturally grave, + unsmiling; Mr. Whittier, grave, lovely, his beautiful spirit shining out + of his face; Mr. Longfellow, with his silken white hair and his benignant + face; Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, flashing smiles and affection and all + good-fellowship everywhere like a rose-diamond whose facets are being + turned toward the light first one way and then another—a charming + man, and always fascinating, whether he was talking or whether he was + sitting still (what he would call still, but what would be more or less + motion to other people). I can see those figures with entire distinctness + across this abyss of time. + </p> + <p> + One other feature is clear—Willie Winter (for these past thousand + years dramatic editor of the New York Tribune, and still occupying that + high post in his old age) was there. He was much younger then than he is + now, and he showed it. It was always a pleasure to me to see Willie + Winter at a banquet. During a matter of twenty years I was seldom at a + banquet where Willie Winter was not also present, and where he did not + read a charming poem written for the occasion. He did it this time, and it + was up to standard: dainty, happy, choicely phrased, and as good to listen + to as music, and sounding exactly as if it was pouring unprepared out of + heart and brain. + </p> + <p> + Now at that point ends all that was pleasurable about that notable + celebration of Mr. Whittier’s seventieth birthday—because I got up + at that point and followed Winter, with what I have no doubt I supposed + would be the gem of the evening—the gay oration above quoted from + the Boston paper. I had written it all out the day before and had + perfectly memorized it, and I stood up there at my genial and happy and + self-satisfied ease, and began to deliver it. Those majestic guests; that + row of venerable and still active volcanoes, listened; as did everybody + else in the house, with attentive interest. Well, I delivered myself of—we’ll + say the first two hundred words of my speech. I was expecting no returns + from that part of the speech, but this was not the case as regarded the + rest of it. I arrived now at the dialogue: “The old miner said, ‘You are + the fourth, I’m going to move.’ ‘The fourth what?’ said I. He answered, + ‘The fourth littery man that has been here in twenty-four hours. I am + going to move.’ ‘Why, you don’t tell me;’ said I. ‘Who were the others?’ + ‘Mr. Longfellow, Mr. Emerson, Mr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, consound the lot—‘” + </p> + <p> + Now, then, the house’s attention continued, but the expression of interest + in the faces turned to a sort of black frost. I wondered what the trouble + was. I didn’t know. I went on, but with difficulty—I struggled + along, and entered upon that miner’s fearful description of the bogus + Emerson, the bogus Holmes, the bogus Longfellow, always hoping—but + with a gradually perishing hope that somebody—would laugh, or that + somebody would at least smile, but nobody did. I didn’t know enough to + give it up and sit down, I was too new to public speaking, and so I went + on with this awful performance, and carried it clear through to the end, + in front of a body of people who seemed turned to stone with horror. It + was the sort of expression their faces would have worn if I had been + making these remarks about the Deity and the rest of the Trinity; there is + no milder way, in which to describe the petrified condition and the + ghastly expression of those people. + </p> + <p> + When I sat down it was with a heart which had long ceased to beat. I shall + never be as dead again as I was then. I shall never be as miserable again + as I was then. I speak now as one who doesn’t know what the condition of + things may be in the next world, but in this one I shall never be as + wretched again as I was then. Howells, who was near me, tried to say a + comforting word, but couldn’t get beyond a gasp. There was no use—he + understood the whole size of the disaster. He had good intentions, but the + words froze before they could get out. It was an atmosphere that would + freeze anything. If Benvenuto Cellini’s salamander had been in that place + he would not have survived to be put into Cellini’s autobiography. There + was a frightful pause. There was an awful silence, a desolating silence. + Then the next man on the list had to get up—there was no help for + it. That was Bishop—Bishop had just burst handsomely upon the world + with a most acceptable novel, which had appeared in The Atlantic Monthly, + a place which would make any novel respectable and any author noteworthy. + In this case the novel itself was recognized as being, without extraneous + help, respectable. Bishop was away up in the public favor, and he was an + object of high interest, consequently there was a sort of national + expectancy in the air; we may say our American millions were standing, + from Maine to Texas and from Alaska to Florida, holding their breath, + their lips parted, their hands ready to applaud, when Bishop should get up + on that occasion, and for the first time in his life speak in public. It + was under these damaging conditions that he got up to “make good,” as the + vulgar say. I had spoken several times before, and that is the reason why + I was able to go on without dying in my tracks, as I ought to have done—but + Bishop had had no experience. He was up facing those awful deities—facing + those other people, those strangers—facing human beings for the + first time in his life, with a speech to utter. No doubt it was well + packed away in his memory, no doubt it was fresh and usable, until I had + been heard from. I suppose that after that, and under the smothering pall + of that dreary silence, it began to waste away and disappear out of his + head like the rags breaking from the edge of a fog, and presently there + wasn’t any fog left. He didn’t go on—he didn’t last long. It was not + many sentence’s after his first before he began to hesitate, and break, + and lose his grip, and totter, and wobble, and at last he slumped down in + a limp and mushy pile. + </p> + <p> + Well, the programme for the occasion was probably not more than one-third + finished, but it ended there. Nobody rose. The next man hadn’t strength + enough to get up, and everybody looked so dazed, so stupefied, paralyzed; + it was impossible for anybody to do anything, or even try. Nothing could + go on in that strange atmosphere. Howells mournfully, and without words, + hitched himself to Bishop and me and supported us out of the room. It was + very kind—he was most generous. He towed us tottering away into some + room in that building, and we sat down there. I don’t know what my remark + was now, but I know the nature of it. It was the kind of remark you make + when you know that nothing in the world can help your case. But Howells + was honest—he had to say the heart-breaking things he did say: that + there was no help for this calamity, this shipwreck, this cataclysm; that + this was the most disastrous thing that had ever happened in anybody’s + history—and then he added, “That is, for you—and consider what + you have done for Bishop. It is bad enough in your case, you deserve to + suffer. You have committed this crime, and you deserve to have all you are + going to get. But here is an innocent man. Bishop had never done you any + harm, and see what you have done to him. He can never hold his head up + again. The world can never look upon Bishop as being a live person. He is + a corpse.” + </p> + <p> + That is the history of that episode of twenty-eight years ago, which + pretty nearly killed me with shame during that first year or two whenever + it forced its way into my mind. + </p> + <p> + Now then, I take that speech up and examine it. As I said, it arrived this + morning, from Boston. I have read it twice, and unless I am an idiot, it + hasn’t a single defect in it from the first word to the last. It is just + as good as good can be. It is smart; it is saturated with humor. There + isn’t a suggestion of coarseness or vulgarity in it anywhere. What could + have been the matter with that house? It is amazing, it is incredible, + that they didn’t shout with laughter, and those deities the loudest of + them all. Could the fault have been with me? Did I lose courage when I saw + those great men up there whom I was going to describe in such a strange + fashion? If that happened, if I showed doubt, that can account for it, for + you can’t be successfully funny if you show that you are afraid of it. + Well, I can’t account for it, but if I had those beloved and revered old + literary immortals back here now on the platform at Carnegie Hall I would + take that same old speech, deliver it, word for word, and melt them till + they’d run all over that stage. Oh, the fault must have been with me, it + is not in the speech at all. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PLYMOUTH ROCK AND THE PILGRIMS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE FIRST ANNUAL DINNER, N. E. SOCIETY, + PHILADELPHIA, DECEMBER 22, 1881 + + On calling upon Mr. Clemens to make response, + President Rollins said: + + “This sentiment has been assigned to one who was never exactly + born in New England, nor, perhaps, were any of his ancestors. + He is not technically, therefore, of New England descent. + Under the painful circumstances in which he has found himself, + however, he has done the best he could—he has had all his + children born there, and has made of himself a New England + ancestor. He is a self-made man. More than this, and better + even, in cheerful, hopeful, helpful literature he is of New + England ascent. To ascend there in any thing that’s reasonable + is difficult; for—confidentially, with the door shut—we all + know that they are the brightest, ablest sons of that goodly + land who never leave it, and it is among and above them that + Mr. Twain has made his brilliant and permanent ascent—become + a man of mark.” + </pre> + <p> + I rise to protest. I have kept still for years; but really I think there + is no sufficient justification for this sort of thing. What do you want to + celebrate those people for?—those ancestors of yours of 1620—the + Mayflower tribe, I mean. What do you want to celebrate them for? Your + pardon: the gentleman at my left assures me that you are not celebrating + the Pilgrims themselves, but the landing of the Pilgrims at Plymouth rock + on the 22d of December. So you are celebrating their landing. Why, the + other pretext was thin enough, but this is thinner than ever; the other + was tissue, tinfoil, fish-bladder, but this is gold-leaf. Celebrating + their lauding! What was there remarkable about it, I would like to know? + What can you be thinking of? Why, those Pilgrims had been at sea three or + four months. It was the very middle of winter: it was as cold as death off + Cape Cod there. Why shouldn’t they come ashore? If they hadn’t landed + there would be some reason for celebrating the fact: It would have been a + case of monumental leatherheadedness which the world would not willingly + let die. If it had been you, gentlemen, you probably wouldn’t have landed, + but you have no shadow of right to be celebrating, in your ancestors, + gifts which they did not exercise, but only transmitted. Why, to be + celebrating the mere landing of the Pilgrims—to be trying to make + out that this most natural and simple and customary procedure was an + extraordinary circumstance—a circumstance to be amazed at, and + admired, aggrandized and glorified, at orgies like this for two hundred + and sixty years—hang it, a horse would have known enough to land; a + horse—Pardon again; the gentleman on my right assures me that it was + not merely the landing of the Pilgrims that we are celebrating, but the + Pilgrims themselves. So we have struck an inconsistency here—one + says it was the landing, the other says it was the Pilgrims. It is an + inconsistency characteristic of your intractable and disputatious tribe, + for you never agree about anything but Boston. Well, then, what do you + want to celebrate those Pilgrims for? They were a mighty hard lot—you + know it. I grant you, without the slightest unwillingness, that they were + a deal more gentle and merciful and just than were the people of Europe of + that day; I grant you that they are better than their predecessors. But + what of that?—that is nothing. People always progress. You are + better than your fathers and grandfathers were (this is the first time I + have ever aimed a measureless slander at the departed, for I consider such + things improper). Yes, those among you who have not been in the + penitentiary, if such there be, are better than your fathers and + grandfathers were; but is that any sufficient reason for getting up + annual dinners and celebrating you? No, by no means—by no means. + Well, I repeat, those Pilgrims were a hard lot. They took good care of + themselves, but they abolished everybody else’s ancestors. I am a + border-ruffian from the State of Missouri. I am a Connecticut Yankee by + adoption. In me, you have Missouri morals, Connecticut culture; this, + gentlemen, is the combination which makes the perfect man. But where are + my ancestors? Whom shall I celebrate? Where shall I find the raw material? + </p> + <p> + My first American ancestor, gentlemen, was an Indian—an early + Indian. Your ancestors skinned him alive, and I am an orphan. Not one drop + of my blood flows in that Indian’s veins today. I stand here, lone and + forlorn, without an ancestor. They skinned him! I do not object to that, + if they needed his fur; but alive, gentlemen—alive! They skinned him alive—and + before company! That is what rankles. Think how he must have felt; for he + was a sensitive person and easily embarrassed. If he had been a bird, it + would have been all right, and no violence done to his feelings, because + he would have been considered “dressed.” But he was not a bird, gentlemen, + he was a man, and probably one of the most undressed men that ever was. I + ask you to put yourselves in his place. I ask it as a favor; I ask it as a + tardy act of justice; I ask it in the interest of fidelity to the + traditions of your ancestors; I ask it that the world may contemplate, + with vision unobstructed by disguising swallow-tails and white cravats, + the spectacle which the true New England Society ought to present. Cease + to come to these annual orgies in this hollow modern mockery—the + surplusage of raiment. Come in character; come in the summer grace, come + in the unadorned simplicity, come in the free and joyous costume which + your sainted ancestors provided for mine. + </p> + <p> + Later ancestors of mine were the Quakers William Robinson, Marmaduke + Stevenson, et al. Your tribe chased them out of the country for their + religion’s sake; promised them death if they came back; for your ancestors + had forsaken the homes they loved, and braved the perils of the sea, the + implacable climate, and the savage wilderness, to acquire that highest and + most precious of boons, freedom for every man on this broad continent to + worship according to the dictates of his own conscience—and they + were not going to allow a lot of pestiferous Quakers to interfere with it. + Your ancestors broke forever the chains of political slavery, and gave the + vote to every man in this wide land, excluding none!—none except + those who did not belong to the orthodox church. Your ancestors—yes, + they were a hard lot; but, nevertheless, they gave us religious liberty to + worship as they required us to worship, and political liberty to vote as + the church required; and so I the bereft one, I the forlorn one, am here + to do my best to help you celebrate them right. + </p> + <p> + The Quaker woman Elizabeth Hooton was an ancestress of mine. Your people + were pretty severe with her you will confess that. But, poor thing! I + believe they changed her opinions before she died, and took her into their + fold; and so we have every reason to presume that when she died she went + to the same place which your ancestors went to. It is a great pity, for + she was a good woman. Roger Williams was an ancestor of mine. I don’t + really remember what your people did with him. But they banished him to + Rhode Island, anyway. And then, I believe, recognizing that this was + really carrying harshness to an unjustifiable extreme, they took pity on + him and burned him. They were a hard lot! All those Salem witches were + ancestors of mine! Your people made it tropical for them. Yes, they did; + by pressure and the gallows they made such a clean deal with them that + there hasn’t been a witch and hardly a halter in our family from that day + to this, and that is one hundred and eighty-nine years. The first slave + brought into New England out of Africa by your progenitors was an ancestor + of mine—for I am of a mixed breed, an infinitely shaded and + exquisite Mongrel. I’m not one of your sham meerschaums that you can color + in a week. No, my complexion is the patient art of eight generations. + Well, in my own time, I had acquired a lot of my kin—by purchase, + and swapping around, and one way and another—and was getting along + very well. Then, with the inborn perversity of your lineage, you got up a + war, and took them all away from me. And so, again am I bereft, again am I + forlorn; no drop of my blood flows in the veins of any living being who is + marketable. + </p> + <p> + O my friends, hear me and reform! I seek your good, not mine. You have + heard the speeches. Disband these New England societies—nurseries of + a system of steadily augmenting laudation and hosannaing, which; if + persisted in uncurbed, may some day in the remote future beguile you into + prevaricating and bragging. Oh, stop, stop, while you are still temperate + in your appreciation of your ancestors! Hear me, I beseech you; get up an + auction and sell Plymouth Rock! The Pilgrims were a simple and ignorant + race. They never had seen any good rocks before, or at least any that were + not watched, and so they were excusable for hopping ashore in frantic + delight and clapping an iron fence around this one. But you, gentlemen, + are educated; you are enlightened; you know that in the rich land of your + nativity, opulent New England, overflowing with rocks, this one isn’t + worth, at the outside, more than thirty-five cents. Therefore, sell it, + before it is injured by exposure, or at least throw it open to the + patent-medicine advertisements, and let it earn its taxes: + </p> + <p> + Yes, hear your true friend—your only true friend—list to his voice. + Disband these societies, hotbeds of vice, of moral decay—perpetuators + of ancestral superstition. Here on this board I see water, I see milk, I + see the wild and deadly lemonade. These are but steps upon the downward + path. Next we shall see tea, then chocolate, then coffee—hotel + coffee. A few more years—all too few, I fear—mark my words, we + shall have cider! Gentlemen, pause ere it be too late. You are on the + broad road which leads to dissipation, physical ruin, moral decay, gory + crime and the gallows! I beseech you, I implore you, in the name of your + anxious friends, in the name of your suffering families, in the name of + your impending widows and orphans, stop ere it be too late. Disband these + New England societies, renounce these soul-blistering saturnalia, cease + from varnishing the rusty reputations of your long-vanished ancestors—the + super-high-moral old iron-clads of Cape Cod, the pious buccaneers of + Plymouth Rock—go home, and try to learn to behave! + </p> + <p> + However, chaff and nonsense aside, I think I honor and appreciate your + Pilgrim stock as much as you do yourselves, perhaps; and I endorse and + adopt a sentiment uttered by a grandfather of mine once—a man of + sturdy opinions, of sincere make of mind, and not given to flattery. He + said: “People may talk as they like about that Pilgrim stock, but, after + all’s said and done, it would be pretty hard to improve on those people; + and, as for me, I don’t mind coming out flatfooted and saying there ain’t + any way to improve on them—except having them born in Missouri!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + COMPLIMENTS AND DEGREES + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + DELIVERED AT THE LOTOS CLUB, JANUARY 11, 1908 + + In introducing Mr. Clemens, Frank R. Lawrence, the President + of the Lotos Club, recalled the fact that the first club dinner + in the present club-house, some fourteen years ago, was in + honor of Mark Twain. +</pre> + <p> + I wish to begin this time at the beginning, lest I forget it altogether; + that is to say, I wish to thank you for this welcome that you are giving, + and the welcome which you gave me seven years ago, and which I forgot to + thank you for at that time. I also wish to thank you for the welcome you + gave me fourteen years ago, which I also forgot to thank you for at the + time. + </p> + <p> + I hope you will continue this custom to give me a dinner every seven years + before I join the hosts in the other world—I do not know which + world. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lawrence and Mr. Porter have paid me many compliments. It is very + difficult to take compliments. I do not care whether you deserve the + compliments or not, it is just as difficult to take them. The other night + I was at the Engineers’ Club, and enjoyed the sufferings of Mr. Carnegie. + They were complimenting him there; there it was all compliments, and none + of them deserved. They say that you cannot live by bread alone, but I can + live on compliments. + </p> + <p> + I do not make any pretence that I dislike compliments. The stronger the + better, and I can manage to digest them. I think I have lost so much by + not making a collection of compliments, to put them away and take them out + again once in a while. When in England I said that I would start to + collect compliments, and I began there and I have brought some of them + along. + </p> + <p> + The first one of these lies—I wrote them down and preserved them—I + think they are mighty good and extremely just. It is one of Hamilton + Mabie’s compliments. He said that La Salle was the first one to make a + voyage of the Mississippi, but Mark Twain was the first to chart, light, + and navigate it for the whole world. + </p> + <p> + If that had been published at the time that I issued that book [Life on + the Mississippi], it would have been money in my pocket. I tell you, it is + a talent by itself to pay compliments gracefully and have them ring true. + It’s an art by itself. + </p> + <p> + Here is another compliment by Albert Bigelow Paine, my biographer. He is + writing four octavo volumes about me, and he has been at my elbow two and + one-half years. + </p> + <p> + I just suppose that he does not know me, but says he knows me. He says + “Mark Twain is not merely a great writer, a great philosopher, a great + man; he is the supreme expression of the human being, with his strength + and his weakness.” What a talent for compression! It takes a genius in + compression to compact as many facts as that. + </p> + <p> + W. D. Howells spoke of me as first of Hartford, and ultimately of the + solar system, not to say of the universe: + </p> + <p> + You know how modest Howells is. If it can be proved that my fame reaches + to Neptune and Saturn; that will satisfy even me. You know how modest and + retiring Howells seems to be, but deep down he is as vain as I am. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Howells had been granted a degree at Oxford, whose gown was red. He + had been invited to an exercise at Columbia, and upon inquiry had been + told that it was usual to wear the black gown: Later he had found that + three other men wore bright gowns, and he had lamented that he had been + one of the black mass, and not a red torch. + </p> + <p> + Edison wrote: “The average American loves his family. If he has any love + left over for some other person, he generally selects Mark Twain.” + </p> + <p> + Now here’s the compliment of a little Montana girl which came to me + indirectly. She was in a room in which there was a large photograph of me. + After gazing at it steadily for a time, she said: + </p> + <p> + “We’ve got a John the Baptist like that.” She also said: “Only ours has + more trimmings.” + </p> + <p> + I suppose she meant the halo. Now here is a gold-miner’s compliment. It is + forty-two years old. It was my introduction to an audience to which I + lectured in a log school-house. There were no ladies there. I wasn’t + famous then. They didn’t know me. Only the miners were there, with their + breeches tucked into their boottops and with clay all over them. They + wanted some one to introduce me, and they selected a miner, who protested, + saying: + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know anything about this man. Anyhow, I only know two things + about him. One is, he has never been in jail, and the other is, I don’t + know why.” + </p> + <p> + There’s one thing I want to say about that English trip. I knew his + Majesty the King of England long years ago, and I didn’t meet him for the + first time then. One thing that I regret was that some newspapers said I + talked with the Queen of England with my hat on. I don’t do that with any + woman. I did not put it on until she asked me to. Then she told me to put + it on, and it’s a command there. I thought I had carried my American + democracy far enough. So I put it on. I have no use for a hat, and never + did have. + </p> + <p> + Who was it who said that the police of London knew me? Why, the police + know me everywhere. There never was a day over there when a policeman did + not salute me, and then put up his hand and stop the traffic of the world. + They treated me as though I were a duchess. + </p> + <p> + The happiest experience I had in England was at a dinner given in the + building of the Punch publication, a humorous paper which is appreciated + by all Englishmen. It was the greatest privilege ever allowed a foreigner. + I entered the dining-room of the building, where those men get together + who have been running the paper for over fifty years. We were about to + begin dinner when the toastmaster said: “Just a minute; there ought to be + a little ceremony.” Then there was that meditating silence for a while, + and out of a closet there came a beautiful little girl dressed in pink, + holding in her hand a copy of the previous week’s paper, which had in it + my cartoon. It broke me all up. I could not even say “Thank you.” That was + the prettiest incident of the dinner, the delight of all that wonderful + table. When she was about to go; I said, “My child, you are not going to + leave me; I have hardly got acquainted with you.” She replied, “You know + I’ve got to go; they never let me come in here before, and they never will + again.” That is one of the beautiful incidents that I cherish. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + [At the conclusion of his speech, and while the diners were still + cheering him, Colonel Porter brought forward the red-and-gray gown + of the Oxford “doctor,” and Mr. Clemens was made to don it. + The diners rose to their feet in their enthusiasm. With the + mortar-board on his head, and looking down admiringly at himself, + Mr. Twain said—] +</pre> + <p> + I like that gown. I always did like red. The redder it is the better I + like it. I was born for a savage. Now, whoever saw any red like this? + There is no red outside the arteries of an archangel that could compare + with this. I know you all envy me. I am going to have luncheon shortly + with ladies just ladies. I will be the only lady of my sex present, and I + shall put on this gown and make those ladies look dim. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOKS, AUTHORS, AND HATS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE PILGRIMS’ CLUB LUNCHEON, GIVEN IN HONOR OF Mr. + CLEMENS AT THE SAVOY HOTEL, LONDON, JUNE 25, 1907. + + Mr. Birrell, M.P., Chief-Secretary for Ireland, in introducing + Mr. Clemens said: “We all love Mark Twain, and we are here to + tell him so. One more point—all the world knows it, and that + is why it is dangerous to omit it—our guest is a distinguished + citizen of the Great Republic beyond the seas. In America his + ‘Huckleberry Finn’ and his ‘Tom Sawyer’ are what ‘Robinson + Crusoe’ and ‘Tom Brown’s School Days’ have been to us. They + are racy of the soil. They are books to which it is impossible + to place any period of termination. I will not speak of the + classics—reminiscences of much evil in our early lives. We do + not meet here to-day as critics with our appreciations and + depreciations, our twopenny little prefaces or our forewords. + I am not going to say what the world a thousand years hence + will think of Mark Twain. Posterity will take care of itself, + will read what it wants to read, will forget what it chooses to + forget, and will pay no attention whatsoever to our critical + mumblings and jumblings. Let us therefore be content to say to + our friend and guest that we are here speaking for ourselves + and for our children, to say what he has been to us. I + remember in Liverpool, in 1867, first buying the copy, which I + still preserve, of the celebrated ‘Jumping Frog.’ It had a few + words of preface which reminded me then that our guest in those + days was called ‘the wild humorist of the Pacific slope,’ and a + few lines later down, ‘the moralist of the Main.’ That was + some forty years ago. Here he is, still the humorist, still + the moralist. His humor enlivens and enlightens his morality, + and his morality is all the better for his humor. That is one + of the reasons why we love him. I am not here to mention any + book of his—that is a subject of dispute in my family circle, + which is the best and which is the next best—but I must put in + a word, lest I should not be true to myself—a terrible thing + —for his Joan of Arc, a book of chivalry, of nobility, and of + manly sincerity for which I take this opportunity of thanking + him. But you can all drink this toast, each one of you with + his own intention. You can get into it what meaning you like. + Mark Twain is a man whom English and Americans do well to + honor. He is the true consolidator of nations. His delightful + humor is of the kind which dissipates and destroys national + prejudices. His truth and his honor, his love of truth, and + his love of honor, overflow all boundaries. He has made the + world better by his presence. We rejoice to see him here. + Long may he live to reap the plentiful harvest of hearty, + honest human affection!” + </pre> + <p> + Pilgrims, I desire first to thank those undergraduates of Oxford. When a + man has grown so old as I am, when he has reached the verge of seventy-two + years, there is nothing that carries him back to the dreamland of his + life, to his boyhood, like recognition of those young hearts up yonder. + And so I thank them out of my heart. I desire to thank the Pilgrims of New + York also for their kind notice and message which they have cabled over + here. Mr. Birrell says he does not know how he got here. But he will be + able to get away all right—he has not drunk anything since he came + here. I am glad to know about those friends of his, Otway and Chatterton—fresh, + new names to me. I am glad of the disposition he has shown to rescue them + from the evils of poverty, and if they are still in London, I hope to have + a talk with them. For a while I thought he was going to tell us the effect + which my book had upon his growing manhood. I thought he was going to tell + us how much that effect amounted to, and whether it really made him what + he now is, but with the discretion born of Parliamentary experience he + dodged that, and we do not know now whether he read the book or not. He + did that very neatly. I could not do it any better myself. + </p> + <p> + My books have had effects, and very good ones, too, here and there, and + some others not so good. There is no doubt about that. But I remember one + monumental instance of it years and years ago. Professor Norton, of + Harvard, was over here, and when he came back to Boston I went out with + Howells to call on him. Norton was allied in some way by marriage with + Darwin. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Norton was very gentle in what he had to say, and almost delicate, and + he said: “Mr. Clemens, I have been spending some time with Mr. Darwin in + England, and I should like to tell you something connected with that + visit. You were the object of it, and I myself would have been very proud + of it, but you may not be proud of it. At any rate, I am going to tell you + what it was, and to leave to you to regard it as you please. Mr. Darwin + took me up to his bedroom and pointed out certain things + there-pitcher-plants, and so on, that he was measuring and watching from + day to day—and he said: ‘The chambermaid is permitted to do what she + pleases in this room, but she must never touch those plants and never + touch those books on that table by that candle. With those books I read + myself to sleep every night.’ Those were your own books.” I said: “There + is no question to my mind as to whether I should regard that as a + compliment or not. I do regard it as a very great compliment and a very + high honor that that great mind, laboring for the whole human race, should + rest itself on my books. I am proud that he should read himself to sleep + with them.” + </p> + <p> + Now, I could not keep that to myself—I was so proud of it. As soon + as I got home to Hartford I called up my oldest friend—and dearest + enemy on occasion—the Rev. Joseph Twichell, my pastor, and I told + him about that, and, of course, he was full of interest and venom. Those + people who get no compliments like that feel like that. He went off. He + did not issue any applause of any kind, and I did not hear of that subject + for some time. But when Mr. Darwin passed away from this life, and some + time after Darwin’s Life and Letters came out, the Rev. Mr. Twichell + procured an early copy of that work and found something in it which he + considered applied to me. He came over to my house—it was snowing, + raining, sleeting, but that did not make any difference to Twichell. He + produced the book, and turned over and over, until he came to a certain + place, when he said: “Here, look at this letter from Mr. Darwin to Sir + Joseph Hooker.” What Mr. Darwin said—I give you the idea and not the + very words—was this: I do not know whether I ought to have devoted + my whole life to these drudgeries in natural history and the other + sciences or not, for while I may have gained in one way I have lost in + another. Once I had a fine perception and appreciation of high literature, + but in me that quality is atrophied. “That was the reason,” said Mr. + Twichell, “he was reading your books.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Birrell has touched lightly—very lightly, but in not an + uncomplimentary way—on my position in this world as a moralist. I am + glad to have that recognition, too, because I have suffered since I have + been in this town; in the first place, right away, when I came here, from + a newsman going around with a great red, highly displayed placard in the + place of an apron. He was selling newspapers, and there were two sentences + on that placard which would have been all right if they had been + punctuated; but they ran those two sentences together without a comma or + anything, and that would naturally create a wrong impression, because it + said, “Mark Twain arrives Ascot Cup stolen.” No doubt many a person was + misled by those sentences joined together in that unkind way. I have no + doubt my character has suffered from it. I suppose I ought to defend my + character, but how can I defend it? I can say here and now—and + anybody can see by my face that I am sincere, that I speak the truth—that + I have never seen that Cup. I have not got the Cup—I did not have a + chance to get it. I have always had a good character in that way. I have + hardly ever stolen anything, and if I did steal anything I had discretion + enough to know about the value of it first. I do not steal things that are + likely to get myself into trouble. I do not think any of us do that. I + know we all take things—that is to be expected—but really, I + have never taken anything, certainly in England, that amounts to any great + thing. I do confess that when I was here seven years ago I stole a hat, + but that did not amount to anything. It was not a good hat, and was only a + clergyman’s hat, anyway. + </p> + <p> + I was at a luncheon party, and Archdeacon Wilberforce was there also. I + dare say he is Archdeacon now—he was a canon then—and he was + serving in the Westminster battery, if that is the proper term—I do + not know, as you mix military and ecclesiastical things together so much. + He left the luncheon table before I did. He began this. I did steal his + hat, but he began by taking mine. I make that interjection because I would + not accuse Archdeacon Wilberforce of stealing my hat—I should not + think of it. I confine that phrase to myself. He merely took my hat. And + with good judgment, too—it was a better hat than his. He came out + before the luncheon was over, and sorted the hats in the hall, and + selected one which suited. It happened to be mine. He went off with it. + When I came out by-and-by there was no hat there which would go on my head + except his, which was left behind. My head was not the customary size just + at that time. I had been receiving a good many very nice and complimentary + attentions, and my head was a couple of sizes larger than usual, and his + hat just suited me. The bumps and corners were all right intellectually. + There were results pleasing to me—possibly so to him. He found out + whose hat it was, and wrote me saying it was pleasant that all the way + home, whenever he met anybody his gravities, his solemnities, his deep + thoughts, his eloquent remarks were all snatched up by the people he met, + and mistaken for brilliant humorisms. + </p> + <p> + I had another experience. It was not unpleasing. I was received with a + deference which was entirely foreign to my experience by everybody whom I + met, so that before I got home I had a much higher opinion of myself than + I have ever had before or since. And there is in that very connection an + incident which I remember at that old date which is rather melancholy to + me, because it shows how a person can deteriorate in a mere seven years. + It is seven years ago. I have not that hat now. I was going down + Pall-Mall, or some other of your big streets, and I recognized that that + hat needed ironing. I went into a big shop and passed in my hat, and asked + that it might be ironed. They were courteous, very courteous, even + courtly. They brought that hat back to me presently very sleek and nice, + and I asked how much there was to pay. They replied that they did not + charge the clergy anything. I have cherished the delight of that moment + from that day to this. It was the first thing I did the other day to go + and hunt up that shop and hand in my hat to have it ironed. I said when it + came back, “How much to pay?” They said, “Ninepence.” In seven years I + have acquired all that worldliness, and I am sorry to be back where I was + seven years ago. + </p> + <p> + But now I am chaffing and chaffing and chaffing here, and I hope you will + forgive me for that; but when a man stands on the verge of seventy-two you + know perfectly well that he never reached that place without knowing what + this life is—heart breaking bereavement. And so our reverence is for our + dead. We do not forget them; but our duty is toward the living; and if we + can be cheerful, cheerful in spirit, cheerful in speech and in hope, that + is a benefit to those who are around us. + </p> + <p> + My own history includes an incident which will always connect me with + England in a pathetic way, for when I arrived here seven years ago with my + wife and my daughter—we had gone around the globe lecturing to raise + money to clear off a debt—my wife and one of my daughters started + across the ocean to bring to England our eldest daughter. She was twenty + four years of age and in the bloom of young womanhood, and we were + unsuspecting. When my wife and daughter—and my wife has passed from + this life since—when they had reached mid Atlantic, a cablegram—one + of those heartbreaking cablegrams which we all in our days have to + experience—was put into my hand. It stated that that daughter of + ours had gone to her long sleep. And so, as I say, I cannot always be + cheerful, and I cannot always be chaffing; I must sometimes lay the cap + and bells aside, and recognize that I am of the human race like the rest, + and must have my cares and griefs. And therefore I noticed what Mr. + Birrell said—I was so glad to hear him say it—something that + was in the nature of these verses here at the top of this: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “He lit our life with shafts of sun + And vanquished pain. + Thus two great nations stand as one + In honoring Twain.” + </pre> + <p> + I am very glad to have those verses. I am very glad and very grateful for + what Mr. Birrell said in that connection. I have received since I have + been here, in this one week, hundreds of letters from all conditions of + people in England—men, women, and children—and there is in + them compliment, praise, and, above all and better than all, there is in + them a note of affection. Praise is well, compliment is well, but + affection—that is the last and final and most precious reward that + any man can win, whether by character or achievement, and I am very + grateful to have that reward. All these letters make me feel that here in + England—as in America—when I stand under the English flag, I + am not a stranger. I am not an alien, but at home. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DEDICATION SPEECH + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + AT THE DEDICATION OF THE COLLEGE OF THE CITY OF NEW YORK, + MAY 14, 1908 + + Mr. Clemens wore his gown as Doctor of Laws, Oxford University. + Ambassador Bryce and Mr. Choate had made the formal addresses. +</pre> + <p> + How difficult, indeed, is the higher education. Mr. Choate needs a little + of it. He is not only short as a statistician of New York, but he is off, + far off, in his mathematics. The four thousand citizens of Greater New + York, indeed! + </p> + <p> + But I don’t think it was wise or judicious on the part of Mr. Choate to + show this higher education he has obtained. He sat in the lap of that + great education (I was there at the time), and see the result—the + lamentable result. Maybe if he had had a sandwich here to sustain him the + result would not have been so serious. + </p> + <p> + For seventy-two years I have been striving to acquire that higher + education which stands for modesty and diffidence, and it doesn’t work. + </p> + <p> + And then look at Ambassador Bryce, who referred to his alma mater, Oxford. + He might just as well have included me. Well, I am a later production. + </p> + <p> + If I am the latest graduate, I really and sincerely hope I am not the + final flower of its seven centuries; I hope it may go on for seven ages + longer. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DIE SCHRECKEN DER DEUTSCHEN SPRACHE [THE HORRORS OF THE GERMAN LANGUAGE] + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS TO THE VIENNA PRESS CLUB, NOVEMBER 21, 1897, + DELIVERED IN GERMAN [Here in literal translation] +</pre> + <p> + It has me deeply touched, my gentlemen, here so hospitably received to be. + From colleagues out of my own profession, in this from my own home so far + distant land. My heart is full of gratitude, but my poverty of German + words forces me to greater economy of expression. Excuse you, my + gentlemen, that I read off, what I you say will. [But he didn’t read]. + </p> + <p> + The German language speak I not good, but have numerous connoisseurs me + assured that I her write like an angel. Maybe—maybe—I know + not. Have till now no acquaintance with the angels had. That comes later—when + it the dear God please—it has no hurry. + </p> + <p> + Since long, my gentlemen, have I the passionate longing nursed a speech on + German to hold, but one has me not permitted. Men, who no feeling for the + art had, laid me ever hindrance in the way and made naught my desire—sometimes + by excuses, often by force. Always said these men to me: “Keep you still, + your Highness! Silence! For God’s sake seek another way and means yourself + obnoxious to make.” + </p> + <p> + In the present case, as usual it is me difficult become, for me the + permission to obtain. The committee sorrowed deeply, but could me the + permission not grant on account of a law which from the Concordia demands + she shall the German language protect. Du liebe Zeit! How so had one to me + this say could—might—dared—should? I am indeed the + truest friend of the German language—and not only now, but from long + since—yes, before twenty years already. And never have I the desire + had the noble language to hurt; to the contrary, only wished she to + improve—I would her only reform. It is the dream of my life been. I + have already visits by the various German governments paid and for + contracts prayed. I am now to Austria in the same task come. I would only + some changes effect. I would only the language method—the luxurious, + elaborate construction compress, the eternal parenthesis suppress, do away + with, annihilate; the introduction of more than thirteen subjects in one + sentence forbid; the verb so far to the front pull that one it without a + telescope discover can. With one word, my gentlemen, I would your beloved + language simplify so that, my gentlemen, when you her for prayer need, One + her yonder-up understands. + </p> + <p> + I beseech you, from me yourself counsel to let, execute these mentioned + reforms. Then will you an elegant language possess, and afterward, when + you some thing say will, will you at least yourself understand what you + said had. But often nowadays, when you a mile-long sentence from you given + and you yourself somewhat have rested, then must you have a touching + inquisitiveness have yourself to determine what you actually spoken have. + Before several days has the correspondent of a local paper a sentence + constructed which hundred and twelve words contain, and therein were seven + parentheses smuggled in, and the subject seven times changed. Think you + only, my gentlemen, in the course of the voyage of a single sentence must + the poor, persecuted, fatigued subject seven times change position! + </p> + <p> + Now, when we the mentioned reforms execute, will it no longer so bad be. + Doch noch eins. I might gladly the separable verb also a little bit + reform. I might none do let what Schiller did: he has the whole history of + the Thirty Years’ War between the two members of a separable verb + in-pushed. That has even Germany itself aroused, and one has Schiller the + permission refused the History of the Hundred Years’ War to compose—God + be it thanked! After all these reforms established be will, will the + German language the noblest and the prettiest on the world be. + </p> + <p> + Since to you now, my gentlemen, the character of my mission known is, + beseech I you so friendly to be and to me your valuable help grant. Mr. + Potzl has the public believed make would that I to Vienna come am in order + the bridges to clog up and the traffic to hinder, while I observations + gather and note. Allow you yourselves but not from him deceived. My + frequent presence on the bridges has an entirely innocent ground. Yonder + gives it the necessary space, yonder can one a noble long German sentence + elaborate, the bridge-railing along, and his whole contents with one + glance overlook. On the one end of the railing pasted I the first member + of a separable verb and the final member cleave I to the other end—then + spread the body of the sentence between it out! Usually are for my + purposes the bridges of the city long enough; when I but Potzl’s writings + study will I ride out and use the glorious endless imperial bridge. But + this is a calumny; Potzl writes the prettiest German. Perhaps not so + pliable as the mine, but in many details much better. Excuse you these + flatteries. These are well deserved. + </p> + <p> + Now I my speech execute—no, I would say I bring her to the close. I + am a foreigner—but here, under you, have I it entirely forgotten. + And so again and yet again proffer I you my heartiest thanks. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + GERMAN FOR THE HUNGARIANS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE JUBILEE CELEBRATION OF THE EMANCIPATION OF THE + HUNGARIAN PRESS, MARCH 26, 1899 + + The Ministry and members of Parliament were present. The + subject was the “Ausgleich”—i. e., the arrangement for the + apportionment of the taxes between Hungary and Austria. + Paragraph 14 of the ausgleich fixes the proportion each country + must pay to the support of the army. It is the paragraph which + caused the trouble and prevented its renewal. +</pre> + <p> + Now that we are all here together, I think it will be a good idea to + arrange the ausgleich. If you will act for Hungary I shall be quite + willing to act for Austria, and this is the very time for it. There + couldn’t be a better, for we are all feeling friendly, fair-minded, and + hospitable now, and, full of admiration for each other, full of confidence + in each other, full of the spirit of welcome, full of the grace of + forgiveness, and the disposition to let bygones be bygones. + </p> + <p> + Let us not waste this golden, this beneficent, this providential + opportunity. I am willing to make any concession you want, just so we get + it settled. I am not only willing to let grain come in free, I am willing + to pay the freight on it, and you may send delegates to the Reichsrath if + you like. All I require is that they shall be quiet, peaceable people like + your own deputies, and not disturb our proceedings. + </p> + <p> + If you want the Gegenseitigengeldbeitragendenverhaltnismassigkeiten + rearranged and readjusted I am ready for that. I will let you off at + twenty-eight per cent.—twenty-seven—even twenty-five if you + insist, for there is nothing illiberal about me when I am out on a + diplomatic debauch. + </p> + <p> + Now, in return for these concessions, I am willing to take anything in + reason, and I think we may consider the business settled and the ausgleich + ausgegloschen at last for ten solid years, and we will sign the papers in + blank, and do it here and now. + </p> + <p> + Well, I am unspeakably glad to have that ausgleich off my hands. It has + kept me awake nights for anderthalbjahr. + </p> + <p> + But I never could settle it before, because always when I called at the + Foreign Office in Vienna to talk about it, there wasn’t anybody at home, + and that is not a place where you can go in and see for yourself whether + it is a mistake or not, because the person who takes care of the front + door there is of a size that discourages liberty of action and the free + spirit of investigation. To think the ausgleich is abgemacht at last! It + is a grand and beautiful consummation, and I am glad I came. + </p> + <p> + The way I feel now I do honestly believe I would rather be just my own + humble self at this moment than paragraph 14. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A NEW GERMAN WORD + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + To aid a local charity Mr. Clemens appeared before a + fashionable audience in Vienna, March 10, 1899, reading his + sketch “The Lucerne Girl,” and describing how he had been + interviewed and ridiculed. He said in part: +</pre> + <p> + I have not sufficiently mastered German, to allow my using it with + impunity. My collection of fourteen-syllable German words is still + incomplete. But I have just added to that collection a jewel—a + veritable jewel. I found it in a telegram from Linz, and it contains + ninety-five letters: + </p> + <p> + Personaleinkommensteuerschatzungskommissionsmitgliedsreisekostenrechnungs + erganzungsrevisionsfund + </p> + <p> + If I could get a similar word engraved upon my tombstone I should sleep + beneath it in peace. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + UNCONSCIOUS PLAGIARISM + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + DELIVERED AT THE DINNER GIVEN BY THE PUBLISHERS OF “THE + ATLANTIC MONTHLY” TO OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, IN HONOR OF HIS + SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY, AUGUST 29, 1879 +</pre> + <p> + I would have travelled a much greater distance than I have come to witness + the paying of honors to Doctor Holmes; for my feeling toward him has + always been one of peculiar warmth. When one receives a letter from a + great man for the first time in his life, it is a large event to him, as + all of you know by your own experience. You never can receive letters + enough from famous men afterward to obliterate that one, or dim the memory + of the pleasant surprise it was, and the gratification it gave you. Lapse + of time cannot make it commonplace or cheap. + </p> + <p> + Well, the first great man who ever wrote me a letter was our guest—Oliver + Wendell Holmes. He was also the first great literary man I ever stole + anything from—and that is how I came to write to him and he to me. + When my first book was new, a friend of mine said to me, “The dedication + is very neat.” Yes, I said, I thought it was. My friend said, “I always + admired it, even before I saw it in The Innocents Abroad.” I naturally + said: “What do you mean? Where did you ever see it before?” “Well, I saw + it first some years ago as Doctor Holmes’s dedication to his Songs in Many + Keys.” Of course, my first impulse was to prepare this man’s remains for + burial, but upon reflection I said I would reprieve him for a moment or + two and give him a chance to prove his assertion if he could: We stepped + into a book-store, and he did prove it. I had really stolen that + dedication, almost word for word. I could not imagine how this curious + thing had happened; for I knew one thing—that a certain amount of + pride always goes along with a teaspoonful of brains, and that this pride + protects a man from deliberately stealing other people’s ideas. That is + what a teaspoonful of brains will do for a man—and admirers had + often told me I had nearly a basketful—though they were rather + reserved as to the size of the basket. + </p> + <p> + However, I thought the thing out, and solved the mystery. Two years + before, I had been laid up a couple of weeks in the Sandwich Islands, and + had read and re-read Doctor Holmes’s poems till my mental reservoir was + filled up with them to the brim. The dedication lay on the top, and handy, + so, by-and-by, I unconsciously stole it. Perhaps I unconsciously stole the + rest of the volume, too, for many people have told me that my book was + pretty poetical, in one way or another. Well, of course, I wrote Doctor + Holmes and told him I hadn’t meant to steal, and he wrote back and said in + the kindest way that it was all right and no harm done; and added that he + believed we all unconsciously worked over ideas gathered in reading and + hearing, imagining they were original with ourselves. He stated a truth, + and did it in such a pleasant way, and salved over my sore spot so gently + and so healingly, that I was rather glad I had committed the crime for + the sake of the letter. I afterward called on him and told him to make + perfectly free with any ideas of mine that struck him as being good + protoplasm for poetry. He could see by that that there wasn’t anything + mean about me; so we got along right from the start. I have not met Doctor + Holmes many times since; and lately he said—However, I am wandering + wildly away from the one thing which I got on my feet to do; that is, to + make my compliments to you, my fellow-teachers of the great public, and + likewise to say that I am right glad to see that Doctor Holmes is still in + his prime and full of generous life; and as age is not determined by + years, but by trouble and infirmities of mind and body, I hope it may be a + very long time yet before any one can truthfully say, “He is growing old.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE WEATHER + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE NEW ENGLAND SOCIETY’S SEVENTY FIRST + ANNUAL DINNER, NEW YORK CITY +</pre> + <p> + The next toast was: “The Oldest Inhabitant-The Weather of New England.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Who can lose it and forget it? + Who can have it and regret it? + Be interposer ’twixt us Twain.” + —Merchant of Venice. +</pre> + <p> + I reverently believe that the Maker who made us all makes everything in + New England but the weather. I don’t know who makes that, but I think it + must be raw apprentices in the weather-clerk’s factory who experiment and + learn how, in New England, for board and clothes, and then are promoted to + make weather for countries that require a good article, and will take + their custom elsewhere if they don’t get it. There is a sumptuous variety + about the New England weather that compels the stranger’s admiration—and + regret. The weather is always doing something there; always attending + strictly to business; always getting up new designs and trying them on the + people to see how they will go. But it gets through more business in + spring than in any other season. In the spring I have counted one hundred + and thirty-six different kinds of weather inside of four-and-twenty hours. + It was I that made the fame and fortune of that man that had that + marvellous collection of weather on exhibition at the Centennial, that so + astounded the foreigners. He was going to travel all over the world and + get specimens from all the climes. I said, “Don’t you do it; you come to + New England on a favorable spring day.” I told him what we could do in the + way of style, variety, and quantity. Well, he came and he made his + collection in four days. As to variety, why, he confessed that he got + hundreds of kinds of weather that he had never heard of before. And as to + quantity well, after he had picked out and discarded all that was + blemished in any way, he not only had weather enough, but weather to + spare; weather to hire out; weather to sell; to deposit; weather to + invest; weather to give to the poor. The people of New England are by + nature patient and forbearing, but there are some things which they will + not stand. Every year they kill a lot of poets for writing about + “Beautiful Spring.” These are generally casual visitors, who bring their + notions of spring from somewhere else, and cannot, of course, know how the + natives feel about spring. And so the first thing they know the + opportunity to inquire how they feel has permanently gone by. Old + Probabilities has a mighty reputation for accurate prophecy, and + thoroughly well deserves it. You take up the paper and observe how crisply + and confidently he checks off what to-day’s weather is going to be on the + Pacific, down South, in the Middle States, in the Wisconsin region. See + him sail along in the joy and pride of his power till he gets to New + England, and then see his tail drop. He doesn’t know what the weather is + going to be in New England. Well, he mulls over it, and by and-by he gets + out something about like this: Probably northeast to southwest winds, + varying to the southward and westward and eastward, and points between, + high and low barometer swapping around from place to place; probable areas + of rain, snow, hail, and drought, succeeded or preceded by earthquakes, + with thunder and lightning. Then he jots down his postscript from his + wandering mind, to cover accidents. “But it is possible that the programme + may be wholly changed in the mean time.” Yes, one of the brightest gems in + the New England weather is the dazzling uncertainty of it. There is only + one thing certain about it: you are certain there is going to be plenty of + it—a perfect grand review; but you never can tell which end of the + procession is going to move first. You fix up for the drought; you leave + your umbrella in the house and sally out, and two to one you get drowned. + You make up your mind that the earthquake is due; you stand from under, + and take hold of something to steady yourself, and the first thing you + know you get struck by lightning. These are great disappointments; but + they can’t be helped. The lightning there is peculiar; it is so + convincing, that when it strikes a thing it doesn’t leave enough of that + thing behind for you to tell whether—Well, you’d think it was + something valuable, and a Congressman had been there. And the thunder. + When the thunder begins to merely tune up and scrape and saw, and key up + the instruments for the performance, strangers say, “Why, what awful + thunder you have here!” But when the baton is raised and the real concert + begins, you’ll find that stranger down in the cellar with his head in the + ash-barrel. Now as to the size of the weather in New England—lengthways, + I mean. It is utterly disproportioned to the size of that little country. + Half the time, when it is packed as full as it can stick, you will see + that New England weather sticking out beyond the edges and projecting + around hundreds and hundreds of miles over the neighboring States. She + can’t hold a tenth part of her weather. You can see cracks all about where + she has strained herself trying to do it. I could speak volumes about the + inhuman perversity of the New England weather, but I will give but a + single specimen. I like to hear rain on a tin roof. So I covered part of + my roof with tin, with an eye to that luxury. Well, sir, do you think it + ever rains on that tin? No, sir; skips it every time. Mind, in this speech + I have been trying merely to do honor to the New England weather—no + language could do it justice. But, after all, there is at least one or two + things about that weather (or, if you please, effects produced by it) + which we residents would not like to part with. If we hadn’t our + bewitching autumn foliage, we should still have to credit the weather with + one feature which compensates for all its bullying vagaries—the + ice-storm: when a leafless tree is clothed with ice from the bottom to the + top—ice that is as bright and clear as crystal; when every bough and + twig is strung with ice-beads, frozen dew-drops, and the whole tree + sparkles cold and white, like the Shah of Persia’s diamond plume. Then the + wind waves the branches and the sun comes out and turns all those myriads + of beads and drops to prisms that glow and burn and flash with all manner + of colored fires, which change and change again with inconceivable + rapidity from blue to red, from red to green, and green to gold—the + tree becomes a spraying fountain, a very explosion of dazzling jewels; and + it stands there the acme, the climax, the supremest possibility in art or + nature, of bewildering, intoxicating, intolerable magnificence. One cannot + make the words too strong. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE BABIES + </h2> + <h3> + THE BABIES + </h3> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + DELIVERED AT THE BANQUET, IN CHICAGO, GIVEN BY THE ARMY OF THE + TENNESSEE TO THEIR FIRST COMMANDER, GENERAL U. S. GRANT, + NOVEMBER, 1879 + + The fifteenth regular toast was “The Babies.—As they comfort + us in our sorrows, let us not forget them in our festivities.” + </pre> + <p> + I like that. We have not all had the good fortune to be ladies. We have + not all been generals, or poets, or statesmen; but when the toast works + down to the babies, we stand on common ground. It is a shame that for a + thousand years the world’s banquets have utterly ignored the baby, as if + he didn’t amount to anything. If you will stop and think a minute—if + you will go back fifty or one hundred years to your early married life and + recontemplate your first baby—you will remember that he amounted to + a good deal, and even something over. You soldiers all know that when that + little fellow arrived at family headquarters you had to hand in your + resignation. He took entire command. You became his lackey, his mere + body-servant, and you had to stand around too. He was not a commander who + made allowances for time, distance, weather, or anything else. You had to + execute his order whether it was possible or not. And there was only one + form of marching in his manual of tactics, and that was the double-quick. + He treated you with every sort of insolence and disrespect, and the + bravest of you didn’t dare to say a word. You could face the death-storm + at Donelson and Vicksburg, and give back blow for blow; but when he clawed + your whiskers, and pulled your hair, and twisted your nose, you had to + take it. When the thunders of war were sounding in your ears you set your + faces toward the batteries, and advanced with steady tread; but when he + turned on the terrors of his war whoop you advanced in the other + direction, and mighty glad of the chance, too. When he called for + soothing-syrup, did you venture to throw out any side-remarks about + certain services being unbecoming an officer and a gentleman? No. You got + up and got it. When he ordered his pap bottle and it was not warm, did you + talk back? Not you. You went to work and warmed it. You even descended so + far in your menial office as to take a suck at that warm, insipid stuff + yourself, to see if it was right—three parts water to one of milk, a + touch of sugar to modify the colic, and a drop of peppermint to kill those + immortal hiccoughs. I can taste that stuff yet. And how many things you + learned as you went along! Sentimental young folks still take stock in + that beautiful old saying that when the baby smiles in his sleep, it is + because the angels are whispering to him. Very pretty, but too thin—simply + wind on the stomach, my friends. If the baby proposed to take a walk at + his usual hour, two o’clock in the morning, didn’t you rise up promptly + and remark, with a mental addition which would not improve a Sunday-school + book much, that that was the very thing you were about to propose + yourself? Oh! you were under good discipline, and as you went fluttering + up and down the room in your undress uniform, you not only prattled + undignified baby-talk, but even tuned up your martial voices and tried to + sing!—Rock a-by Baby in the Tree-top, for instance. What a spectacle + for an Army of the Tennessee! And what an affliction for the neighbors, + too; for it is not everybody within a mile around that likes military + music at three in the morning. And, when you had been keeping this sort of + thing up two or three hours, and your little velvet head intimated that + nothing suited him like exercise and noise, what did you do? You simply + went on until you dropped in the last ditch. The idea that a baby doesn’t + amount to anything! Why, one baby is just a house and a front yard full by + itself. One baby can furnish more business than you and your whole + Interior Department can attend to. He is enterprising, irrepressible, + brimful of lawless activities. Do what you please, you can’t make him stay + on the reservation. Sufficient unto the day is one baby. As long as you + are in your right mind don’t you ever pray for twins. Twins amount to a + permanent riot. And there ain’t any real difference between triplets and + an insurrection. + </p> + <p> + Yes, it was high time for a toast-master to recognize the importance of + the babies. Think what is in store for the present crop! Fifty years from + now we shall all be dead, I trust, and then this flag, if it still survive + (and let us hope it may), will be floating over a Republic numbering + 200,000,000 souls, according to the settled laws of our increase. Our + present schooner of State will have grown into a political leviathan—a + Great Eastern. The cradled babies of to-day will be on deck. Let them be + well trained, for we are going to leave a big contract on their hands. + Among the three or four million cradles now rocking in the land are some + which this nation would preserve for ages as sacred things, if we could + know which ones they are. In one of these cradles the unconscious Farragut + of the future is at this moment teething—think of it! and putting in a + world of dead earnest, unarticulated, but perfectly justifiable profanity + over it, too. In another the future renowned astronomer is blinking at the + shining Milky Way with but a languid interest poor little chap!—and + wondering what has become of that other one they call the wet-nurse. In + another the future great historian is lying—and doubtless will + continue to lie until his earthly mission is ended. In another the future + President is busying himself with no profounder problem of state than what + the mischief has become of his hair so early; and in a mighty array of + other cradles there are now some 60,000 future office-seekers, getting + ready to furnish him occasion to grapple with that same old problem a + second time. And in still one more cradle, some where under the flag, the + future illustrious commander-in-chief of the American armies is so little + burdened with his approaching grandeurs and responsibilities as to be + giving his whole strategic mind at this moment to trying to find out some + way to get his big toe into his mouth—an achievement which, meaning + no disrespect, the illustrious guest of this evening turned his entire + attention to some fifty-six years ago; and if the child is but a prophecy + of the man, there are mighty few who will doubt that he succeeded. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + OUR CHILDREN AND GREAT DISCOVERIES + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + DELIVERED AT THE AUTHORS’ CLUB, NEW YORK +</pre> + <p> + Our children—yours—and—mine. They seem like little + things to talk about—our children, but little things often make up + the sum of human life—that’s a good sentence. I repeat it, little + things often produce great things. Now, to illustrate, take Sir Isaac + Newton—I presume some of you have heard of Mr. Newton. Well, once + when Sir Isaac Newton—a mere lad—got over into the man’s apple + orchard—I don’t know what he was doing there—I didn’t come all + the way from Hartford to q-u-e-s-t-i-o-n Mr. Newton’s honesty—but + when he was there—in the main orchard—he saw an apple fall and + he was a-t-t-racted toward it, and that led to the discovery—not of + Mr. Newton but of the great law of attraction and gravitation. + </p> + <p> + And there was once another great discoverer—I’ve forgotten his name, + and I don’t remember what he discovered, but I know it was something very + important, and I hope you will all tell your children about it when you + get home. Well, when the great discoverer was once loafn’ around down in + Virginia, and a-puttin’ in his time flirting with Pocahontas—oh! + Captain John Smith, that was the man’s name—and while he and Poca + were sitting in Mr. Powhatan’s garden, he accidentally put his arm around + her and picked something—a simple weed, which proved to be tobacco—and + now we find it in every Christian family, shedding its civilizing + influence broadcast throughout the whole religious community. + </p> + <p> + Now there was another great man, I can’t think of his name either, who + used to loaf around and watch the great chandelier in the cathedral at + Pisa., which set him to thinking about the great law of gunpowder, and + eventually led to the discovery of the cotton-gin. + </p> + <p> + Now, I don’t say this as an inducement for our young men to loaf around + like Mr. Newton and Mr. Galileo and Captain Smith, but they were once + little babies two days old, and they show what little things have + sometimes accomplished. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + EDUCATING THEATRE-GOERS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The children of the Educational Alliance gave a performance of + “The Prince and the Pauper” on the afternoon of April 14, 1907, + in the theatre of the Alliance Building in East Broadway. The + audience was composed of nearly one thousand children of the + neighborhood. Mr. Clemens, Mr. Howells, and Mr. Daniel Frohman + were among the invited guests. +</pre> + <p> + I have not enjoyed a play so much, so heartily, and so thoroughly since I + played Miles Hendon twenty-two years ago. I used to play in this piece + (“The Prince and the Pauper”) with my children, who, twenty-two years ago, + were little youngsters. One of my daughters was the Prince, and a + neighbor’s daughter was the Pauper, and the children of other neighbors + played other parts. But we never gave such a performance as we have seen + here to-day. It would have been beyond us. + </p> + <p> + My late wife was the dramatist and stage-manager. Our coachman was the + stage-manager, second in command. We used to play it in this simple way, + and the one who used to bring in the crown on a cushion—he was a + little fellow then—is now a clergyman way up high—six or seven + feet high—and growing higher all the time. We played it well, but + not as well as you see it here, for you see it done by practically trained + professionals. + </p> + <p> + I was especially interested in the scene which we have just had, for Miles + Hendon was my part. I did it as well as a person could who never + remembered his part. The children all knew their parts. They did not mind + if I did not know mine. I could thread a needle nearly as well as the + player did whom you saw to-day. The words of my part I could supply on the + spot. The words of the song that Miles Hendon sang here I did not catch. + But I was great in that song. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + [Then Mr. Clemens hummed a bit of doggerel that the reporter + made out as this: + + “There was a woman in her town, + She loved her husband well, + But another man just twice as well.” + + “How is that?” demanded Mr. Clemens. Then resuming] +</pre> + <p> + It was so fresh and enjoyable to make up a new set of words each time that + I played the part. + </p> + <p> + If I had a thousand citizens in front of me, I would like to give them + information, but you children already know all that I have found out about + the Educational Alliance. It’s like a man living within thirty miles of + Vesuvius and never knowing about a volcano. It’s like living for a + lifetime in Buffalo, eighteen miles from Niagara, and never going to see + the Falls. So I had lived in New York and knew nothing about the + Educational Alliance. + </p> + <p> + This theatre is a part of the work, and furnishes pure and clean plays. + This theatre is an influence. Everything in the world is accomplished by + influences which train and educate. When you get to be seventy-one and a + half, as I am, you may think that your education is over, but it isn’t. + </p> + <p> + If we had forty theatres of this kind in this city of four millions, how + they would educate and elevate! We should have a body of educated + theatre-goers. + </p> + <p> + It would make better citizens, honest citizens. One of the best gifts a + millionaire could make would be a theatre here and a theatre there. It + would make of you a real Republic, and bring about an educational level. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE EDUCATIONAL THEATRE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + On November 19, 1907, Mr. Clemens entertained a party of six or + seven hundred of his friends, inviting them to witness the + representation of “The Prince and the Pauper,” played by boys + and girls of the East Side at the Children’s Educational + Theatre, New York. +</pre> + <p> + Just a word or two to let you know how deeply I appreciate the honor which + the children who are the actors and frequenters of this cozy playhouse + have conferred upon me. They have asked me to be their ambassador to + invite the hearts and brains of New York to come down here and see the + work they are doing. I consider it a grand distinction to be chosen as + their intermediary. Between the children and myself there is an + indissoluble bond of friendship. + </p> + <p> + I am proud of this theatre and this performance—proud, because I am + naturally vain—vain of myself and proud of the children. + </p> + <p> + I wish we could reach more children at one time. I am glad to see that the + children of the East Side have turned their backs on the Bowery theatres + to come to see the pure entertainments presented here. + </p> + <p> + This Children’s Theatre is a great educational institution. I hope the + time will come when it will be part of every public school in the land. I + may be pardoned in being vain. I was born vain, I guess. [At this point + the stage-manager’s whistle interrupted Mr. Clemens.] That settles it; + there’s my cue to stop. I was to talk until the whistle blew, but it blew + before I got started. It takes me longer to get started than most people. + I guess I was born at slow speed. My time is up, and if you’ll keep quiet + for two minutes I’ll tell you something about Miss Herts, the woman who + conceived this splendid idea. She is the originator and the creator of + this theatre. Educationally, this institution coins the gold of young + hearts into external good. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + [On April 23, 1908, he spoke again at the same place] +</pre> + <p> + I will be strictly honest with you; I am only fit to be honorary + president. It is not to be expected that I should be useful as a real + president. But when it comes to things ornamental I, of course, have no + objection. There is, of course, no competition. I take it as a very real + compliment because there are thousands of children who have had a part in + this request. It is promotion in truth. + </p> + <p> + It is a thing worth doing that is done here. You have seen the children + play. You saw how little Sally reformed her burglar. She could reform any + burglar. She could reform me. This is the only school in which can be + taught the highest and most difficult lessons—morals. In other + schools the way of teaching morals is revolting. Here the children who + come in thousands live through each part. + </p> + <p> + They are terribly anxious for the villain to get his bullet, and that I + take to be a humane and proper sentiment. They spend freely the ten cents + that is not saved without a struggle. It comes out of the candy money, and + the money that goes for chewing-gum and other necessaries of life. They + make the sacrifice freely. This is the only school which they are sorry to + leave. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + POETS AS POLICEMEN + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Mr. Clemens was one of the speakers at the Lotos Club dinner to + Governor Odell, March 24, 1900. The police problem was + referred to at length. +</pre> + <p> + Let us abolish policemen who carry clubs and revolvers, and put in a squad + of poets armed to the teeth with poems on Spring and Love. I would be very + glad to serve as commissioner, not because I think I am especially + qualified, but because I am too tired to work and would like to take a + rest. + </p> + <p> + Howells would go well as my deputy. He is tired too, and needs a rest + badly. + </p> + <p> + I would start in at once to elevate, purify, and depopulate the red-light + district. I would assign the most soulful poets to that district, all + heavily armed with their poems. Take Chauncey Depew as a sample. I would + station them on the corners after they had rounded up all the depraved + people of the district so they could not escape, and then have them read + from their poems to the poor unfortunates. The plan would be very + effective in causing an emigration of the depraved element. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PUDD’NHEAD WILSON DRAMATIZED + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + When Mr. Clemens arrived from Europe in 1895 one of the first + things he did was to see the dramatization of Pudd’nhead + Wilson. The audience becoming aware of the fact that Mr. + Clemens was in the house called upon him for a speech. +</pre> + <p> + Never in my life have I been able to make a speech without preparation, + and I assure you that this position in which I find myself is one totally + unexpected. + </p> + <p> + I have been hemmed in all day by William Dean Howells and other frivolous + persons, and I have been talking about everything in the world except that + of which speeches are constructed. Then, too, seven days on the water is + not conducive to speech-making. I will only say that I congratulate Mr. + Mayhew; he has certainly made a delightful play out of my rubbish. His is + a charming gift. Confidentially I have always had an idea that I was well + equipped to write plays, but I have never encountered a manager who has + agreed with me. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DALY THEATRE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT A DINNER AFTER THE ONE HUNDREDTH PERFORMANCE OF + “THE TAMING OF THE SHREW.” + + Mr. Clemens made the following speech, which he incorporated + afterward in Following the Equator. +</pre> + <p> + I am glad to be here. This is the hardest theatre in New York to get into, + even at the front door. I never got in without hard work. I am glad we + have got so far in at last. Two or three years ago I had an appointment to + meet Mr. Daly on the stage of this theatre at eight o’clock in the + evening. Well, I got on a train at Hartford to come to New York and keep + the appointment. All I had to do was to come to the back door of the + theatre on Sixth Avenue. I did not believe that; I did not believe it + could be on Sixth Avenue, but that is what Daly’s note said—come to + that door, walk right in, and keep the appointment. It looked very easy. + It looked easy enough, but I had not much confidence in the Sixth Avenue + door. + </p> + <p> + Well, I was kind of bored on the train, and I bought some newspapers—New + Haven newspapers—and there was not much news in them, so I read the + advertisements. There was one advertisement of a bench-show. I had heard + of bench-shows, and I often wondered what there was about them to interest + people. I had seen bench-shows—lectured to bench-shows, in fact—but + I didn’t want to advertise them or to brag about them. Well, I read on a + little, and learned that a bench-show was not a bench-show—but dogs, + not benches at all—only dogs. I began to be interested, and as there + was nothing else to do I read every bit of the advertisement, and learned + that the biggest thing in this show was a St. Bernard dog that weighed one + hundred and forty-five pounds. Before I got to New York I was so + interested in the bench-shows that I made up my mind to go to one the + first chance I got. Down on Sixth Avenue, near where that back door might + be, I began to take things leisurely. I did not like to be in too much of + a hurry. There was not anything in sight that looked like a back door. The + nearest approach to it was a cigar store. So I went in and bought a cigar, + not too expensive, but it cost enough to pay for any information I might + get and leave the dealer a fair profit. Well, I did not like to be too + abrupt, to make the man think me crazy, by asking him if that was the way + to Daly’s Theatre, so I started gradually to lead up to the subject, + asking him first if that was the way to Castle Garden. When I got to the + real question, and he said he would show me the way, I was astonished. He + sent me through a long hallway, and I found myself in a back yard. Then I + went through a long passageway and into a little room, and there before my + eyes was a big St. Bernard dog lying on a bench. There was another door + beyond and I went there, and was met by a big, fierce man with a fur cap + on and coat off, who remarked, “Phwat do yez want?” I told him I wanted to + see Mr. Daly. “Yez can’t see Mr. Daly this time of night,” he responded. I + urged that I had an appointment with Mr. Daly, and gave him my card, which + did not seem to impress him much. “Yez can’t get in and yez can’t shmoke + here. Throw away that cigar. If yez want to see Mr. Daly, yez ’ll have to + be after going to the front door and buy a ticket, and then if yez have + luck and he’s around that way yez may see him.” I was getting discouraged, + but I had one resource left that had been of good service in similar + emergencies. Firmly but kindly I told him my name was Mark Twain, and I + awaited results. There was none. He was not fazed a bit. “Phwere’s your + order to see Mr. Daly?” he asked. I handed him the note, and he examined + it intently. “My friend,” I remarked, “you can read that better if you + hold it the other side up.” But he took no notice of the suggestion, and + finally asked: “Where’s Mr. Daly’s name?” “There it is,” I told him, “on + the top of the page.” “That’s all right,” he said, “that’s where he always + puts it; but I don’t see the ‘W’ in his name,” and he eyed me + distrustfully. Finally, he asked, “Phwat do yez want to see Mr. Daly for?” + “Business.” “Business?” “Yes.” It was my only hope. “Phwat kind—theatres?” + that was too much. “No.” “What kind of shows, then?” “Bench-shows.” It was + risky, but I was desperate. “Bench—shows, is it—where?” The + big man’s face changed, and he began to look interested. “New Haven.” “New + Haven, it is? Ah, that’s going to be a fine show. I’m glad to see you. Did + you see a big dog in the other room?” “Yes.” “How much do you think that + dog weighs?” “One hundred and forty-five pounds.” “Look at that, now! He’s + a good judge of dogs, and no mistake. He weighs all of one hundred and + thirty-eight. Sit down and shmoke—go on and shmoke your cigar, I’ll + tell Mr. Daly you are here.” In a few minutes I was on the stage shaking + hands with Mr. Daly, and the big man standing around glowing with + satisfaction. “Come around in front,” said Mr. Daly, “and see the + performance. I will put you into my own box.” And as I moved away I heard + my honest friend mutter, “Well, he desarves it.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE DRESS OF CIVILIZED WOMAN + </h2> + <p> + A large part of the daughter of civilization is her dress—as it + should be. Some civilized women would lose half their charm without dress, + and some would lose all of it. The daughter of modern civilization dressed + at her utmost best is a marvel of exquisite and beautiful art and expense. + All the lands, all the climes, and all the arts are laid under tribute to + furnish her forth. Her linen is from Belfast, her robe is from Paris, her + lace is from Venice, or Spain, or France, her feathers are from the remote + regions of Southern Africa, her furs from the remoter region of the + iceberg and the aurora, her fan from Japan, her diamonds from Brazil, her + bracelets from California, her pearls from Ceylon, her cameos from Rome. + She has gems and trinkets from buried Pompeii, and others that graced + comely Egyptian forms that have been dust and ashes now for forty + centuries. Her watch is from Geneva, her card case is from China, her hair + is from—from—I don’t know where her hair is from; I never + could find out; that is, her other hair—her public hair, her Sunday + hair; I don’t mean the hair she goes to bed with. + </p> + <p> + And that reminds me of a trifle. Any time you want to you can glance + around the carpet of a Pullman car, and go and pick up a hair-pin; but not + to save your life can you get any woman in that car to acknowledge that + hair-pin. Now, isn’t that strange? But it’s true. The woman who has never + swerved from cast-iron veracity and fidelity in her whole life will, when + confronted with this crucial test, deny her hair-pin. She will deny that + hair-pin before a hundred witnesses. I have stupidly got into more trouble + and more hot water trying to hunt up the owner of a hair-pin in a Pullman + than by any other indiscretion of my life. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DRESS REFORM AND COPYRIGHT + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + When the present copyright law was under discussion, Mr. + Clemens appeared before the committee. He had sent Speaker + Cannon the following letter: + + “DEAR UNCLE JOSEPH,—Please get me the thanks of Congress, not + next week but right away. It is very necessary. Do accomplish + this for your affectionate old friend right away—by + persuasion if you can, by violence if you must, for it is + imperatively necessary that I get on the floor of the House for + two or three hours and talk to the members, man by man, in + behalf of support, encouragement, and protection of one of the + nation’s most valuable assets and industries—its literature. + I have arguments with me—also a barrel with liquid in it. + + “Give me a chance. Get me the thanks of Congress. Don’t wait + for others—there isn’t time; furnish them to me yourself and + let Congress ratify later. I have stayed away and let Congress + alone for seventy-one years and am entitled to the thanks. + Congress knows this perfectly well, and I have long felt hurt + that this quite proper and earned expression of gratitude has + been merely felt by the House and never publicly uttered. + + “Send me an order on the sergeant-at-arms quick. When shall I + come? + “With love and a benediction, + “MARK TWAIN.” + </pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + While waiting to appear before the committee, Mr. Clemens + talked to the reporters: +</pre> + <p> + Why don’t you ask why I am wearing such apparently unseasonable clothes? + I’ll tell you. I have found that when a man reaches the advanced age of + seventy-one years, as I have, the continual sight of dark clothing is + likely to have a depressing effect upon him. Light-colored clothing is + more pleasing to the eye and enlivens the spirit. Now, of course, I cannot + compel every one to wear such clothing just for my especial benefit, so I + do the next best thing and wear it myself. + </p> + <p> + Of course, before a man reaches my years the fear of criticism might + prevent him from indulging his fancy. I am not afraid of that. I am + decidedly for pleasing color combinations in dress. I like to see the + women’s clothes, say, at the opera. What can be more depressing than the + sombre black which custom requires men to wear upon state occasions? A + group of men in evening clothes looks like a flock of crows, and is just + about as inspiring. + </p> + <p> + After all, what is the purpose of clothing? Are not clothes intended + primarily to preserve dignity and also to afford comfort to their wearer? + Now I know of nothing more uncomfortable than the present-day clothes of + men. The finest clothing made is a person’s own skin, but, of course, + society demands something more than this. + </p> + <p> + The best-dressed man I have ever seen, however, was a native of the + Sandwich Islands who attracted my attention thirty years ago. Now, when + that man wanted to don especial dress to honor a public occasion or a + holiday, why, he occasionally put on a pair of spectacles. Otherwise the + clothing with which God had provided him sufficed. + </p> + <p> + Of course, I have ideas of dress reform. For one thing, why not adopt some + of the women’s styles? Goodness knows, they adopt enough of ours. Take the + peek-a-boo waist, for instance. It has the obvious advantages of being + cool and comfortable, and in addition it is almost always made up in + pleasing colors which cheer and do not depress. + </p> + <p> + It is true that I dressed the Connecticut Yankee at King Arthur’s Court in + a plug-hat, but, let’s see, that was twenty-five years ago. Then no man + was considered fully dressed until he donned a plug-hat. Nowadays I think + that no man is dressed until he leaves it home. Why, when I left home + yesterday they trotted out a plug-hat for me to wear. + </p> + <p> + “You must wear it,” they told me; “why, just think of going to Washington + without a plug-hat!” But I said no; I would wear a derby or nothing. Why, + I believe I could walk along the streets of New York—I never do—but + still I think I could—and I should never see a well-dressed man + wearing a plug-hat. If I did I should suspect him of something. I don’t + know just what, but I would suspect him. + </p> + <p> + Why, when I got up on the second story of that Pennsylvania ferry-boat + coming down here yesterday I saw Howells coming along. He was the only man + on the boat with a plug-hat, and I tell you he felt ashamed of himself. He + said he had been persuaded to wear it against his better sense. But just + think of a man nearly seventy years old who has not a mind of his own on + such matters! + </p> + <p> + “Are you doing any work now?” the youngest and most serious reporter + asked. + </p> + <p> + Work? I retired from work on my seventieth birthday. Since then I have + been putting in merely twenty-six hours a day dictating my autobiography, + which, as John Phoenix said in regard to his autograph, may be relied upon + as authentic, as it is written exclusively by me. But it is not to be + published in full until I am thoroughly dead. I have made it as caustic, + fiendish, and devilish as possible. It will fill many volumes, and I shall + continue writing it until the time comes for me to join the angels. It is + going to be a terrible autobiography. It will make the hair of some folks + curl. But it cannot be published until I am dead, and the persons + mentioned in it and their children and grandchildren are dead. It is + something awful! + </p> + <p> + “Can you tell us the names of some of the notables that are here to see + you off?” + </p> + <p> + I don’t know. I am so shy. My shyness takes a peculiar phase. I never look + a person in the face. The reason is that I am afraid they may know me and + that I may not know them, which makes it very embarrassing for both of us. + I always wait for the other person to speak. I know lots of people, but I + don’t know who they are. It is all a matter of ability to observe things. + I never observe anything now. I gave up the habit years ago. You should + keep a habit up if you want to become proficient in it. For instance, I + was a pilot once, but I gave it up, and I do not believe the captain of + the Minneapolis would let me navigate his ship to London. Still, if I + think that he is not on the job I may go up on the bridge and offer him a + few suggestions. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + COLLEGE GIRLS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Five hundred undergraduates, under the auspices of the Woman’s + University Club, New York, welcomed Mr. Clemens as their guest, + April 3, 1906, and gave him the freedom of the club, which the + chairman explained was freedom to talk individually to any girl + present. +</pre> + <p> + I’ve worked for the public good thirty years, so for the rest of my life I + shall work for my personal contentment. I am glad Miss Neron has fed me, + for there is no telling what iniquity I might wander into on an empty + stomach—I mean, an empty mind. + </p> + <p> + I am going to tell you a practical story about how once upon a time I was + blind—a story I should have been using all these months, but I never + thought about telling it until the other night, and now it is too late, + for on the nineteenth of this month I hope to take formal leave of the + platform forever at Carnegie Hall—that is, take leave so far as + talking for money and for people who have paid money to hear me talk. I + shall continue to infest the platform on these conditions—that there + is nobody in the house who has paid to hear me, that I am not paid to be + heard, and that there will be none but young women students in the + audience. [Here Mr. Clemens told the story of how he took a girl to the + theatre while he was wearing tight boots, which appears elsewhere in this + volume, and ended by saying: “And now let this be a lesson to you—I + don’t know what kind of a lesson; I’ll let you think it out.”] + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + GIRLS + </h2> + <p> + In my capacity of publisher I recently received a manuscript from a + teacher which embodied a number of answers given by her pupils to + questions propounded. These answers show that the children had nothing but + the sound to go by—the sense was perfectly empty. Here are some of + their answers to words they were asked to define: Auriferous—pertaining + to an orifice; ammonia—the food of the gods; equestrian—one + who asks questions; parasite—a kind of umbrella; ipecaca—man + who likes a good dinner. And here is the definition of an ancient word + honored by a great party: Republican—a sinner mentioned in the + Bible. And here is an innocent deliverance of a zoological kind: “There + are a good many donkeys in the theological gardens.” Here also is a + definition which really isn’t very bad in its way: Demagogue—a + vessel containing beer and other liquids. Here, too, is a sample of a + boy’s composition on girls, which, I must say, I rather like: + </p> + <p> + “Girls are very stuckup and dignified in their manner and behaveyour. They + think more of dress than anything and like to play with dowls and rags. + They cry if they see a cow in a far distance and are afraid of guns. They + stay at home all the time and go to church every Sunday. They are al-ways + sick. They are al-ways furry and making fun of boys hands and they say how + dirty. They cant play marbles. I pity them poor things. They make fun of + boys and then turn round and love them. I don’t belave they ever kiled a + cat or anything. They look out every nite and say, ‘Oh, a’nt the moon + lovely!’—Thir is one thing I have not told and that is they al-ways + now their lessons bettern boys.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE LADIES + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + DELIVERED AT THE ANNIVERSARY FESTIVAL, 1872, OF THE SCOTTISH + CORPORATION OF LONDON + + Mr. Clemens replied to the toast “The Ladies.” + </pre> + <p> + I am proud, indeed, of the distinction of being chosen to respond to this + especial toast, to “The Ladies,” or to women if you please, for that is + the preferable term, perhaps; it is certainly the older, and therefore the + more entitled to reverence. I have noticed that the Bible, with that + plain, blunt honesty which is such a conspicuous characteristic of the + Scriptures, is always particular to never refer to even the illustrious + mother of all mankind as a “lady,” but speaks of her as a woman. It is + odd, but you will find it is so. I am peculiarly proud of this honor, + because I think that the toast to women is one which, by right and by + every rule of gallantry, should take precedence of all others—of the + army, of the navy, of even royalty itself—perhaps, though the latter + is not necessary in this day and in this land, for the reason that, + tacitly, you do drink a broad general health to all good women when you + drink the health of the Queen of England and the Princess of Wales. I have + in mind a poem just now which is familiar to you all, familiar to + everybody. And what an inspiration that was, and how instantly the present + toast recalls the verses to all our minds when the most noble, the most + gracious, the purest, and sweetest of all poets says: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Woman! O woman!—-er + Wom——” + </pre> + <p> + However, you remember the lines; and you remember how feelingly, how + daintily, how almost imperceptibly the verses raise up before you, feature + by feature, the ideal of a true and perfect woman; and how, as you + contemplate the finished marvel, your homage grows into worship of the + intellect that could create so fair a thing out of mere breath, mere + words. And you call to mind now, as I speak, how the poet, with stern + fidelity to the history of all humanity, delivers this beautiful child of + his heart and his brain over to the trials and sorrows that must come to + all, sooner or later, that abide in the earth, and how the pathetic story + culminates in that apostrophe—so wild, so regretful, so full of + mournful retrospection. The lines run thus: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Alas!—alas!—a—alas! + ——Alas!————alas!” + </pre> +<p> +—and so on. I do not remember the rest; but, taken together, it seems +to me that poem is the noblest tribute to woman that human genius has +ever brought forth—and I feel that if I were to talk hours I could not +do my great theme completer or more graceful justice than I have now +done in simply quoting that poet’s matchless words. The phases of the +womanly nature are infinite in their variety. Take any type of woman, +and you shall find in it something to respect, something to admire, +something to love. And you shall find the whole joining you heart and +hand. Who was more patriotic than Joan of Arc? Who was braver? Who +has given us a grander instance of self-sacrificing devotion? Ah! you +remember, you remember well, what a throb of pain, what a great tidal +wave of grief swept over us all when Joan of Arc fell at Waterloo. Who +does not sorrow for the loss of Sappho, the sweet singer of Israel? +Who among us does not miss the gentle ministrations, the softening +influences, the humble piety of Lucretia Borgia? Who can join in the +heartless libel that says woman is extravagant in dress when he can look +back and call to mind our simple and lowly mother Eve arrayed in her +modification of the Highland costume? Sir, women have been soldiers, +women have been painters, women have been poets. As long as language +lives the name of Cleopatra will live. And not because she conquered +George III.—but because she wrote those divine lines: +</p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Let dogs delight to bark and bite, + For God hath made them so.” + </pre> + <p> + The story of the world is adorned with the names of illustrious ones of + our own sex—some of them sons of St. Andrew, too—Scott, + Bruce, Burns, the warrior Wallace, Ben Nevis—the gifted Ben Lomond, + and the great new Scotchman, Ben Disraeli.—[Mr. Benjamin Disraeli, + at that time Prime Minister of England, had just been elected Lord Rector + of Glasgow University, and had made a speech which gave rise to a world of + discussion]—Out of the great plains of history tower whole mountain + ranges of sublime women: the Queen of Sheba, Josephine, Semiramis, Sairey + Gamp; the list is endless—but I will not call the mighty roll, the + names rise up in your own memories at the mere suggestion, luminous with + the glory of deeds that cannot die, hallowed by the loving worship of the + good and the true of all epochs and all climes. Suffice it for our pride + and our honor that we in our day have added to it such names as those of + Grace Darling and Florence Nightingale. Woman is all that she should + be—gentle, patient, longsuffering, trustful, unselfish, full of generous + impulses. It is her blessed mission to comfort the sorrowing, plead for + the erring, encourage the faint of purpose, succor the distressed, uplift + the fallen, befriend the friendless—in a word, afford the healing of + her sympathies and a home in her heart for all the bruised and persecuted + children that knock at its hospitable door. And when I say, God bless her, + there is none among us who has known the ennobling affection of a wife, or + the steadfast devotion of a mother but in his heart will say, Amen! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WOMAN’S PRESS CLUB + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + On October 27, 1900, the New York Woman’s Press Club gave a tea + in Carnegie Hall. Mr. Clemens was the guest of honor. +</pre> + <p> + If I were asked an opinion I would call this an ungrammatical nation. + There is no such thing as perfect grammar, and I don’t always speak good + grammar myself. But I have been foregathering for the past few days with + professors of American universities, and I’ve heard them all say things + like this: “He don’t like to do it.” [There was a stir.] Oh, you’ll hear + that to-night if you listen, or, “He would have liked to have done it.” + You’ll catch some educated Americans saying that. When these men take pen + in hand they write with as good grammar as any. But the moment they throw + the pen aside they throw grammatical morals aside with it. + </p> + <p> + To illustrate the desirability and possibility of concentration, I must + tell you a story of my little six-year-old daughter. The governess had + been teaching her about the reindeer, and, as the custom was, she related + it to the family. She reduced the history of that reindeer to two or three + sentences when the governess could not have put it into a page. She said: + “The reindeer is a very swift animal. A reindeer once drew a sled four + hundred miles in two hours.” She appended the comment: “This was regarded + as extraordinary.” And concluded: “When that reindeer was done drawing + that sled four hundred miles in two hours it died.” + </p> + <p> + As a final instance of the force of limitations in the development of + concentration, I must mention that beautiful creature, Helen Keller, whom + I have known for these many years. I am filled with the wonder of her + knowledge, acquired because shut out from all distraction. If I could have + been deaf, dumb, and blind I also might have arrived at something. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VOTES FOR WOMEN + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + AT THE ANNUAL MEETING OF THE HEBREW TECHNICAL SCHOOL FOR GIRLS, + HELD IN THE TEMPLE EMMANUEL, JANUARY 20, 1901 + + Mr. Clemens was introduced by President Meyer, who said: “In + one of Mr. Clemens’s works he expressed his opinion of men, + saying he had no choice between Hebrew and Gentile, black men + or white; to him all men were alike. But I never could find + that he expressed his opinion of women; perhaps that opinion + was so exalted that he could not express it. We shall now be + called to hear what he thinks of women.” + </pre> + <p> + LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,—It is a small help that I can afford, but it + is just such help that one can give as coming from the heart through the + mouth. The report of Mr. Meyer was admirable, and I was as interested in + it as you have been. Why, I’m twice as old as he, and I’ve had so much + experience that I would say to him, when he makes his appeal for help: + “Don’t make it for to-day or to-morrow, but collect the money on the + spot.” + </p> + <p> + We are all creatures of sudden impulse. We must be worked up by steam, as + it were. Get them to write their wills now, or it may be too late + by-and-by. Fifteen or twenty years ago I had an experience I shall never + forget. I got into a church which was crowded by a sweltering and panting + multitude. The city missionary of our town—Hartford—made a + telling appeal for help. He told of personal experiences among the poor in + cellars and top lofts requiring instances of devotion and help. The poor + are always good to the poor. When a person with his millions gives a + hundred thousand dollars it makes a great noise in the world, but he does + not miss it; it’s the widow’s mite that makes no noise but does the best + work. + </p> + <p> + I remember on that occasion in the Hartford church the collection was + being taken up. The appeal had so stirred me that I could hardly wait for + the hat or plate to come my way. I had four hundred dollars in my pocket, + and I was anxious to drop it in the plate and wanted to borrow more. But + the plate was so long in coming my way that the fever-heat of beneficence + was going down lower and lower—going down at the rate of a hundred + dollars a minute. The plate was passed too late. When it finally came to + me, my enthusiasm had gone down so much that I kept my four hundred + dollars—and stole a dime from the plate. So, you see, time sometimes + leads to crime. + </p> + <p> + Oh, many a time have I thought of that and regretted it, and I adjure you + all to give while the fever is on you. + </p> + <p> + Referring to woman’s sphere in life, I’ll say that woman is always right. + For twenty-five years I’ve been a woman’s rights man. I have always + believed, long before my mother died, that, with her gray hairs and + admirable intellect, perhaps she knew as much as I did. Perhaps she knew + as much about voting as I. + </p> + <p> + I should like to see the time come when women shall help to make the laws. + I should like to see that whip-lash, the ballot, in the hands of women. As + for this city’s government, I don’t want to say much, except that it is a + shame—a shame; but if I should live twenty-five years longer—and + there is no reason why I shouldn’t—I think I’ll see women handle the + ballot. If women had the ballot to-day, the state of things in this town + would not exist. + </p> + <p> + If all the women in this town had a vote to-day they would elect a mayor + at the next election, and they would rise in their might and change the + awful state of things now existing here. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WOMAN-AN OPINION + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT AN EARLY BANQUET OF THE WASHINGTON + CORRESPONDENTS’ CLUB + + The twelfth toast was as follows: “Woman—The pride of any + profession, and the jewel of ours.” + </pre> + <p> + MR. PRESIDENT,—I do not know why I should be singled out to receive + the greatest distinction of the evening—for so the office of + replying to the toast of woman has been regarded in every age. I do not + know why I have received this distinction, unless it be that I am a trifle + less homely than the other members of the club. But be this as it may, Mr. + President, I am proud of the position, and you could not have chosen any + one who would have accepted it more gladly, or labored with a heartier + good-will to do the subject justice than I—because, sir, I love the + sex. I love all the women, irrespective of age or color. + </p> + <p> + Human intellect cannot estimate what we owe to woman, sir. She sews on our + buttons; she mends our clothes; she ropes us in at the church fairs; she + confides in us; she tells us whatever she can find out about the little + private affairs of the neighbors; she gives us good advice, and plenty of + it; she soothes our aching brows; she bears our children—ours as a + general thing. In all relations of life, sir, it is but a just and + graceful tribute to woman to say of her that she is a brick. + </p> + <p> + Wheresoever you place woman, sir—in whatever position or estate—she + is an ornament to the place she occupies, and a treasure to the world. + [Here Mr. Clemens paused, looked inquiringly at his hearers, and remarked + that the applause should come in at this point. It came in. He resumed his + eulogy.] Look at Cleopatra! look at Desdemona!—look at Florence + Nightingale!—look at Joan of Arc!—look at Lucretia Borgia! + [Disapprobation expressed.] Well [said Mr. Clemens, scratching his head, + doubtfully], suppose we let Lucretia slide. Look at Joyce Heth!—look + at Mother Eve! You need not look at her unless you want to, but [said Mr. + Clemens, reflectively, after a pause] Eve was ornamental, sir—particularly + before the fashions changed. I repeat, sir, look at the illustrious names + of history. Look at the Widow Machree!—look at Lucy Stone!—look + at Elizabeth Cady Stanton!—look at George Francis Train! And, sir, I + say it with bowed head and deepest veneration—look at the mother of + Washington! She raised a boy that could not tell a lie—could not + tell a lie! But he never had any chance. It might have been different if + he had belonged to the Washington Newspaper Correspondents’ Club. + </p> + <p> + I repeat, sir, that in whatever position you place a woman she is an + ornament to society and a treasure to the world. As a sweetheart, she has + few equals and no superiors; as a cousin, she is convenient; as a wealthy + grandmother with an incurable distemper, she is precious; as a wetnurse, + she has no equal among men. + </p> + <p> + What, sir, would the people of the earth be without woman? They would be + scarce, sir, almighty scarce. Then let us cherish her; let us protect her; + let us give her our support, our encouragement, our sympathy, ourselves—if + we get a chance. + </p> + <p> + But, jesting aside, Mr. President, woman is lovable, gracious, kind of + heart, beautiful—worthy of all respect, of all esteem, of all + deference. Not any here will refuse to drink her health right cordially in + this bumper of wine, for each and every one has personally known, and + loved, and honored the very best one of them all—his own mother. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ADVICE TO GIRLS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + In 1907 a young girl whom Mr. Clemens met on the steamer + Minnehaha called him “grandpa,” and he called her his + granddaughter. She was attending St. Timothy’s School, at + Catonsville, Maryland, and Mr. Clemens promised her to see her + graduate. He accordingly made the journey from New York on + June 10, 1909, and delivered a short address. +</pre> + <p> + I don’t know what to tell you girls to do. Mr. Martin has told you + everything you ought to do, and now I must give you some don’ts. + </p> + <p> + There are three things which come to my mind which I consider excellent + advice: + </p> + <p> + First, girls, don’t smoke—that is, don’t smoke to excess. I am + seventy-three and a half years old, and have been smoking seventy-three of + them. But I never smoke to excess—that is, I smoke in moderation, + only one cigar at a time. + </p> + <p> + Second, don’t drink—that is, don’t drink to excess. + </p> + <p> + Third, don’t marry—I mean, to excess. + </p> + <p> + Honesty is the best policy. That is an old proverb; but you don’t want + ever to forget it in your journey through life. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + TAXES AND MORALS + </h2> + <h3> + ADDRESS DELIVERED IN NEW YORK, JANUARY 22, 1906 + </h3> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + At the twenty-fifth anniversary of the founding of Tuskeegee + Institute by Booker Washington, Mr. Choate presided, and in + introducing Mr. Clemens made fun of him because he made play + his work, and that when he worked hardest he did so lying in + bed. +</pre> + <p> + I came here in the responsible capacity of policeman to watch Mr. Choate. + This is an occasion of grave and serious importance, and it seems + necessary for me to be present, so that if he tried to work off any + statement that required correction, reduction, refutation, or exposure, + there would be a tried friend of the public to protect the house. He has + not made one statement whose veracity fails to tally exactly with my own + standard. I have never seen a person improve so. This makes me thankful + and proud of a country that can produce such men—two such men. And + all in the same country. We can’t be with you always; we are passing away, + and then—well, everything will have to stop, I reckon. It is a sad + thought. But in spirit I shall still be with you. Choate, too—if he + can. + </p> + <p> + Every born American among the eighty millions, let his creed or + destitution of creed be what it may, is indisputably a Christian—to + this degree that his moral constitution is Christian. + </p> + <p> + There are two kinds of Christian morals, one private and the other public. + These two are so distinct, so unrelated, that they are no more akin to + each other than are archangels and politicians. During three hundred and + sixty-three days in the year the American citizen is true to his Christian + private morals, and keeps undefiled the nation’s character at its best and + highest; then in the other two days of the year he leaves his Christian + private morals at home and carries his Christian public morals to the tax + office and the polls, and does the best he can to damage and undo his + whole year’s faithful and righteous work. Without a blush he will vote for + an unclean boss if that boss is his party’s Moses, without compunction he + will vote against the best man in the whole land if he is on the other + ticket. Every year in a number of cities and States he helps put corrupt + men in office, whereas if he would but throw away his Christian public + morals, and carry his Christian private morals to the polls, he could + promptly purify the public service and make the possession of office a + high and honorable distinction. + </p> + <p> + Once a year he lays aside his Christian private morals and hires a + ferry-boat and piles up his bonds in a warehouse in New Jersey for three + days, and gets out his Christian public morals and goes to the tax office + and holds up his hands and swears he wishes he may never—never if + he’s got a cent in the world, so help him. The next day the list appears + in the papers—a column and a quarter of names, in fine print, and + every man in the list a billionaire and member of a couple of churches. I + know all those people. I have friendly, social, and criminal relations + with the whole lot of them. They never miss a sermon when they are so’s to + be around, and they never miss swearing-off day, whether they are so’s to + be around or not. + </p> + <p> + I used to be an honest man. I am crumbling. No—I have crumbled. When + they assessed me at $75,000 a fortnight ago I went out and tried to borrow + the money, and couldn’t; then when I found they were letting a whole crop + of millionaires live in New York at a third of the price they were + charging me I was hurt, I was indignant, and said: “This is the last + feather. I am not going to run this town all by myself.” In that moment—in + that memorable moment—I began to crumble. In fifteen minutes the + disintegration was complete. In fifteen minutes I had become just a mere + moral sand-pile; and I lifted up my hand along with those seasoned and + experienced deacons and swore off every rag of personal property I’ve got + in the world, clear down to cork leg, glass eye, and what is left of my + wig. + </p> + <p> + Those tax officers were moved; they were profoundly moved. They had long + been accustomed to seeing hardened old grafters act like that, and they + could endure the spectacle; but they were expecting better things of me, a + chartered, professional moralist, and they were saddened. + </p> + <p> + I fell visibly in their respect and esteem, and I should have fallen in my + own, except that I had already struck bottom, and there wasn’t any place + to fall to. + </p> + <p> + At Tuskeegee they will jump to misleading conclusions from insufficient + evidence, along with Doctor Parkhurst, and they will deceive the student + with the superstition that no gentleman ever swears. + </p> + <p> + Look at those good millionaires; aren’t they gentlemen? Well, they swear. + Only once in a year, maybe, but there’s enough bulk to it to make up for + the lost time. And do they lose anything by it? No, they don’t; they save + enough in three minutes to support the family seven years. When they + swear, do we shudder? No—unless they say “damn!” Then we do. It + shrivels us all up. Yet we ought not to feel so about it, because we all + swear—everybody. Including the ladies. Including Doctor Parkhurst, + that strong and brave and excellent citizen, but superficially educated. + </p> + <p> + For it is not the word that is the sin, it is the spirit back of the word. + When an irritated lady says “oh!” the spirit back of it is “damn!” and + that is the way it is going to be recorded against her. It always makes me + so sorry when I hear a lady swear like that. But if she says “damn,” and + says it in an amiable, nice way, it isn’t going to be recorded at all. + </p> + <p> + The idea that no gentleman ever swears is all wrong; he can swear and + still be a gentleman if he does it in a nice and, benevolent and + affectionate way. The historian, John Fiske, whom I knew well and loved, + was a spotless and most noble and upright Christian gentleman, and yet he + swore once. Not exactly that, maybe; still, he—but I will tell you + about it. + </p> + <p> + One day, when he was deeply immersed in his work, his wife came in, much + moved and profoundly distressed, and said: “I am sorry to disturb you, + John, but I must, for this is a serious matter, and needs to be attended + to at once.” + </p> + <p> + Then, lamenting, she brought a grave accusation against their little son. + She said: “He has been saying his Aunt Mary is a fool and his Aunt Martha + is a damned fool.” Mr. Fiske reflected upon the matter a minute, then + said: “Oh, well, it’s about the distinction I should make between them + myself.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Washington, I beg you to convey these teachings to your great and + prosperous and most beneficent educational institution, and add them to + the prodigal mental and moral riches wherewith you equip your fortunate + proteges for the struggle of life. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + TAMMANY AND CROKER + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Mr. Clemens made his debut as a campaign orator on October 7, + 1901, advocating the election of Seth Low for Mayor, not as a + Republican, but as a member of the “Acorns,” which he described + as a “third party having no political affiliation, but was + concerned only in the selection of the best candidates and the + best member.” + </pre> + <p> + Great Britain had a Tammany and a Croker a good while ago. This Tammany + was in India, and it began its career with the spread of the English + dominion after the Battle of Plassey. Its first boss was Clive, a + sufficiently crooked person sometimes, but straight as a yard stick when + compared with the corkscrew crookedness of the second boss, Warren + Hastings. + </p> + <p> + That old-time Tammany was the East India Company’s government, and had its + headquarters at Calcutta. Ostensibly it consisted of a Great Council of + four persons, of whom one was the Governor-General, Warren Hastings; + really it consisted of one person—Warren Hastings; for by usurpation + he concentrated all authority in himself and governed the country like an + autocrat. + </p> + <p> + Ostensibly the Court of Directors, sitting in London and representing the + vast interests of the stockholders, was supreme in authority over the + Calcutta Great Council, whose membership it appointed and removed at + pleasure, whose policies it dictated, and to whom it conveyed its will in + the form of sovereign commands; but whenever it suited Hastings, he + ignored even that august body’s authority and conducted the mighty affairs + of the British Empire in India to suit his own notions. + </p> + <p> + At his mercy was the daily bread of every official, every trader, every + clerk, every civil servant, big and little, in the whole huge India + Company’s machine, and the man who hazarded his bread by any failure of + subserviency to the boss lost it. + </p> + <p> + Now then, let the supreme masters of British India, the giant corporation + of the India Company of London, stand for the voters of the city of New + York; let the Great Council of Calcutta stand for Tammany; let the corrupt + and money-grubbing great hive of serfs which served under the Indian + Tammany’s rod stand for New York Tammany’s serfs; let Warren Hastings + stand for Richard Croker, and it seems to me that the parallel is exact + and complete. And so let us be properly grateful and thank God and our + good luck that we didn’t invent Tammany. + </p> + <p> + Edmund Burke, regarded by many as the greatest orator of all times, + conducted the case against Warren Hastings in that renowned trial which + lasted years, and which promises to keep its renown for centuries to come. + I wish to quote some of the things he said. I wish to imagine him + arraigning Mr. Croker and Tammany before the voters of New York City and + pleading with them for the overthrow of that combined iniquity of the 5th + of November, and will substitute for “My Lords,” read “Fellow-Citizens”; + for “Kingdom,” read “City”; for “Parliamentary Process,” read “Political + Campaign”; for “Two Houses,” read “Two Parties,” and so it reads: + </p> + <p> + “Fellow—citizens, I must look upon it as an auspicious circumstance + to this cause, in which the honor of the city is involved, that from the + first commencement of our political campaign to this the hour of solemn + trial not the smallest difference of opinion has arisen, between the two + parties. + </p> + <p> + “You will see, in the progress of this cause, that there is not only a + long, connected, systematic series of misdemeanors, but an equally + connected system of maxims and principles invented to justify them. Upon + both of these you must judge. + </p> + <p> + “It is not only the interest of the city of New York, now the most + considerable part of the city of the Americans, which is concerned, but + the credit and honor of the nation itself will be decided by this + decision.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + At a later meeting of the Acorn Club, Mr. Clemens said: +</pre> + <p> + Tammany is dead, and there’s no use in blackguarding a corpse. + </p> + <p> + The election makes me think of a story of a man who was dying. He had only + two minutes to live, so he sent for a clergyman and asked him, “Where is + the best place to go to?” He was undecided about it. So the minister told + him that each place had its advantages—heaven for climate, and hell + for society. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MUNICIPAL CORRUPTION + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE CITY CLUB DINNER, JANUARY 4,1901 + + Bishop Potter told how an alleged representative of Tammany + Hall asked him in effect if he would cease his warfare upon the + Police Department if a certain captain and inspector were + dismissed. He replied that he would never be satisfied until + the “man at the top” and the “system” which permitted evils in + the Police Department were crushed. +</pre> + <p> + The Bishop has just spoken of a condition of things which none of us can + deny, and which ought not to exist; that is, the lust of gain—a lust + which does not stop short of the penitentiary or the jail to accomplish + its ends. But we may be sure of one thing, and that is that this sort of + thing is not universal. If it were, this country would not be. You may put + this down as a fact: that out of every fifty men, forty-nine are clean. + Then why is it, you may ask, that the forty-nine don’t have things the way + they want them? I’ll tell you why it is. A good deal has been said here + to-night about what is to be accomplished by organization. That’s just the + thing. It’s because the fiftieth fellow and his pals are organized and the + other forty-nine are not that the dirty one rubs it into the clean fellows + every time. + </p> + <p> + You may say organize, organize, organize; but there may be so much + organization that it will interfere with the work to be done. The Bishop + here had an experience of that sort, and told all about it down-town the + other night. He was painting a barn—it was his own barn—and + yet he was informed that his work must stop; he was a non-union painter, + and couldn’t continue at that sort of job. + </p> + <p> + Now, all these conditions of which you complain should be remedied, and I + am here to tell you just how to do it. I’ve been a statesman without + salary for many years, and I have accomplished great and widespread good. + I don’t know that it has benefited anybody very much, even if it was good; + but I do know that it hasn’t harmed me very much, and is hasn’t made me + any richer. + </p> + <p> + We hold the balance of power. Put up your best men for office, and we + shall support the better one. With the election of the best man for Mayor + would follow the selection of the best man for Police Commissioner and + Chief of Police. + </p> + <p> + My first lesson in the craft of statesmanship was taken at an early age. + Fifty-one years ago I was fourteen years old, and we had a society in the + town I lived in, patterned after the Freemasons, or the Ancient Order of + United Farmers, or some such thing—just what it was patterned after + doesn’t matter. It had an inside guard and an outside guard, and a + past-grand warden, and a lot of such things, so as to give dignity to the + organization and offices to the members. + </p> + <p> + Generally speaking it was a pretty good sort of organization, and some of + the very best boys in the village, including—but I mustn’t get + personal on an occasion like this—and the society would have got + along pretty well had it not been for the fact that there were a certain + number of the members who could be bought. They got to be an infernal + nuisance. Every time we had an election the candidates had to go around + and see the purchasable members. The price per vote was paid in doughnuts, + and it depended somewhat on the appetites of the individuals as to the + price of the votes. + </p> + <p> + This thing ran along until some of us, the really very best boys in the + organization, decided that these corrupt practices must stop, and for the + purpose of stopping them we organized a third party. We had a name, but we + were never known by that name. Those who didn’t like us called us the + Anti-Doughnut party, but we didn’t mind that. + </p> + <p> + We said: “Call us what you please; the name doesn’t matter. We are + organized for a principle.” By-and-by the election came around, and we + made a big mistake. We were triumphantly beaten. That taught us a lesson. + Then and there we decided never again to nominate anybody for anything. We + decided simply to force the other two parties in the society to nominate + their very best men. Although we were organized for a principle, we didn’t + care much about that. Principles aren’t of much account anyway, except at + election-time. After that you hang them up to let them season. + </p> + <p> + The next time we had an election we told both the other parties that we’d + beat any candidates put up by any one of them of whom we didn’t approve. + In that election we did business. We got the man we wanted. I suppose they + called us the Anti-Doughnut party because they couldn’t buy us with their + doughnuts. They didn’t have enough of them. Most reformers arrive at their + price sooner or later, and I suppose we would have had our price; but our + opponents weren’t offering anything but doughnuts, and those we spurned. + </p> + <p> + Now it seems to me that an Anti-Doughnut party is just what is wanted in + the present emergency. I would have the Anti-Doughnuts felt in every city + and hamlet and school district in this State and in the United States. I + was an Anti-Doughnut in my boyhood, and I’m an Anti-Doughnut still. The + modern designation is Mugwump. There used to be quite a number of us + Mugwumps, but I think I’m the only one left. I had a vote this fall, and I + began to make some inquiries as to what I had better do with it. + </p> + <p> + I don’t know anything about finance, and I never did, but I know some + pretty shrewd financiers, and they told me that Mr. Bryan wasn’t safe on + any financial question. I said to myself, then, that it wouldn’t do for me + to vote for Bryan, and I rather thought—I know now—that + McKinley wasn’t just right on this Philippine question, and so I just + didn’t vote for anybody. I’ve got that vote yet, and I’ve kept it clean, + ready to deposit at some other election. It wasn’t cast for any wildcat + financial theories, and it wasn’t cast to support the man who sends our + boys as volunteers out into the Philippines to get shot down under a + polluted flag. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MUNICIPAL GOVERNMENT + </h2> + <p> + ADDRESS AT THE ANNUAL DINNER OF THE ST. NICHOLAS SOCIETY, NEW YORK, + DECEMBER 6, 1900. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Doctor Mackay, in his response to the toast “St. Nicholas,” + referred to Mr. Clemens, saying:—“Mark Twain is as true a + preacher of true righteousness as any bishop, priest, or + minister of any church to-day, because he moves men to forget + their faults by cheerful well-doing instead of making them sour + and morbid by everlastingly bending their attention to the + seamy and sober side of life.” + </pre> + <p> + MR. CHAIRMAN AND GENTLEMEN OF THE ST. NICHOLAS SOCIETY,—These are, + indeed, prosperous days for me. Night before last, in a speech, the Bishop + of the Diocese of New York complimented me for my contribution to + theology, and to-night the Reverend Doctor Mackay has elected me to the + ministry. I thanked Bishop Potter then for his compliment, and I thank + Doctor Mackay now for that promotion. I think that both have discerned in + me what I long ago discerned, but what I was afraid the world would never + learn to recognize. + </p> + <p> + In this absence of nine years I find a great improvement in the city of + New York. I am glad to speak on that as a toast—“The City of New + York.” Some say it has improved because I have been away. Others, and I + agree with them, say it has improved because I have come back. We must + judge of a city, as of a man, by its external appearances and by its + inward character. In externals the foreigner coming to these shores is + more impressed at first by our sky-scrapers. They are new to him. He has + not done anything of the sort since he built the tower of Babel. The + foreigner is shocked by them. + </p> + <p> + In the daylight they are ugly. They are—well, too chimneyfied and + too snaggy—like a mouth that needs attention from a dentist; like a + cemetery that is all monuments and no gravestones. But at night, seen from + the river where they are columns towering against the sky, all sparkling + with light, they are fairylike; they are beauty more satisfactory to the + soul and more enchanting than anything that man has dreamed of since the + Arabian nights. We can’t always have the beautiful aspect of things. Let + us make the most of our sights that are beautiful and let the others go. + When your foreigner makes disagreeable comments on New York by daylight, + float him down the river at night. + </p> + <p> + What has made these sky-scrapers possible is the elevator. The cigar-box + which the European calls a “lift” needs but to be compared with our + elevators to be appreciated. The lift stops to reflect between floors. + That is all right in a hearse, but not in elevators. The American elevator + acts like the man’s patent purge—it worked. As the inventor said, + “This purge doesn’t waste any time fooling around; it attends strictly to + business.” + </p> + <p> + That New-Yorkers have the cleanest, quickest, and most admirable system of + street railways in the world has been forced upon you by the abnormal + appreciation you have of your hackman. We ought always to be grateful to + him for that service. Nobody else would have brought such a system into + existence for us. We ought to build him a monument. We owe him one as much + as we owe one to anybody. Let it be a tall one. Nothing permanent, of + course; build it of plaster, say. Then gaze at it and realize how grateful + we are—for the time being—and then pull it down and throw it + on the ash-heap. That’s the way to honor your public heroes. + </p> + <p> + As to our streets, I find them cleaner than they used to be. I miss those + dear old landmarks, the symmetrical mountain ranges of dust and dirt that + used to be piled up along the streets for the wind and rain to tear down + at their pleasure. Yes, New York is cleaner than Bombay. I realize that I + have been in Bombay, that I now am in New York; that it is not my duty to + flatter Bombay, but rather to flatter New York. + </p> + <p> + Compared with the wretched attempts of London to light that city, New York + may fairly be said to be a well-lighted city. Why, London’s attempt at + good lighting is almost as bad as London’s attempt at rapid transit. There + is just one good system of rapid transit in London—the “Tube,” and + that, of course, had been put in by Americans. Perhaps, after a while, + those Americans will come back and give New York also a good underground + system. Perhaps they have already begun. I have been so busy since I came + back that I haven’t had time as yet to go down cellar. + </p> + <p> + But it is by the laws of the city, it is by the manners of the city, it is + by the ideals of the city, it is by the customs of the city and by the + municipal government which all these elements correct, support, and + foster, by which the foreigner judges the city. It is by these that he + realizes that New York may, indeed, hold her head high among the cities of + the world. It is by these standards that he knows whether to class the + city higher or lower than the other municipalities of the world. + </p> + <p> + Gentlemen, you have the best municipal government in the world—the + purest and the most fragrant. The very angels envy you, and wish they + could establish a government like it in heaven. You got it by a noble + fidelity to civic duty. You got it by stern and ever-watchful exertion of + the great powers with which you are charged by the rights which were + handed down to you by your forefathers, by your manly refusal to let base + men invade the high places of your government, and by instant retaliation + when any public officer has insulted you in the city’s name by swerving in + the slightest from the upright and full performance of his duty. It is you + who have made this city the envy of the cities of the world. God will + bless you for it—God will bless you for it. Why, when you approach + the final resting-place the angels of heaven will gather at the gates and + cry out: + </p> + <p> + “Here they come! Show them to the archangel’s box, and turn the lime-light + on them!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHINA AND THE PHILIPPINES + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + AT A DINNER GIVEN IN THE WALDORF-ASTORIA HOTEL, DECEMBER, 1900 + + Winston Spencer Churchill was introduced by Mr. Clemens. +</pre> + <p> + For years I’ve been a self-appointed missionary to bring about the union + of America and the motherland. They ought to be united. Behold America, + the refuge of the oppressed from everywhere (who can pay fifty dollars’ + admission)—any one except a Chinaman—standing up for human + rights everywhere, even helping China let people in free when she wants to + collect fifty dollars upon them. And how unselfishly England has wrought + for the open door for all! And how piously America has wrought for that + open door in all cases where it was not her own! + </p> + <p> + Yes, as a missionary I’ve sung my songs of praise. And yet I think that + England sinned when she got herself into a war in South Africa which she + could have avoided, just as we sinned in getting into a similar war in the + Philippines. Mr. Churchill, by his father, is an Englishman; by his mother + he is an American—no doubt a blend that makes the perfect man. + England and America; yes, we are kin. And now that we are also kin in sin, + there is nothing more to be desired. The harmony is complete, the blend is + perfect. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0034" id="link2H_4_0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THEORETICAL MORALS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The New Vagabonds Club of London, made up of the leading + younger literary men of the day, gave a dinner in honor of Mr. + and Mrs. Clemens, July 8, 1899. +</pre> + <p> + It has always been difficult—leave that word difficult—not + exceedingly difficult, but just difficult, nothing more than that, not the + slightest shade to add to that—just difficult—to respond + properly, in the right phraseology, when compliments are paid to me; but + it is more than difficult when the compliments are paid to a better than I—my + wife. + </p> + <p> + And while I am not here to testify against myself—I can’t be + expected to do so, a prisoner in your own country is not admitted to do so—as + to which member of the family wrote my books, I could say in general that + really I wrote the books myself. My wife puts the facts in, and they make + it respectable. My modesty won’t suffer while compliments are being paid + to literature, and through literature to my family. I can’t get enough of + them. + </p> + <p> + I am curiously situated to-night. It so rarely happens that I am + introduced by a humorist; I am generally introduced by a person of grave + walk and carriage. That makes the proper background of gravity for + brightness. I am going to alter to suit, and haply I may say some humorous + things. + </p> + <p> + When you start with a blaze of sunshine and upburst of humor, when you + begin with that, the proper office of humor is to reflect, to put you into + that pensive mood of deep thought, to make you think of your sins, if you + wish half an hour to fly. Humor makes me reflect now to-night, it sets the + thinking machinery in motion. Always, when I am thinking, there come + suggestions of what I am, and what we all are, and what we are coming to. + A sermon comes from my lips always when I listen to a humorous speech. + </p> + <p> + I seize the opportunity to throw away frivolities, to say something to + plant the seed, and make all better than when I came. In Mr. Grossmith’s + remarks there was a subtle something suggesting my favorite theory of the + difference between theoretical morals and practical morals. I try to + instil practical morals in the place of theatrical—I mean + theoretical; but as an addendum—an annex—something added to + theoretical morals. + </p> + <p> + When your chairman said it was the first time he had ever taken the chair, + he did not mean that he had not taken lots of other things; he attended my + first lecture and took notes. This indicated the man’s disposition. There + was nothing else flying round, so he took notes; he would have taken + anything he could get. + </p> + <p> + I can bring a moral to bear here which shows the difference between + theoretical morals and practical morals. Theoretical morals are the sort + you get on your mother’s knee, in good books, and from the pulpit. You + gather them in your head, and not in your heart; they are theory without + practice. Without the assistance of practice to perfect them, it is + difficult to teach a child to “be honest, don’t steal.” + </p> + <p> + I will teach you how it should be done, lead you into temptation, teach + you how to steal, so that you may recognize when you have stolen and feel + the proper pangs. It is no good going round and bragging you have never + taken the chair. + </p> + <p> + As by the fires of experience, so by commission of crime, you learn real + morals. Commit all the crimes, familiarize yourself with all sins, take + them in rotation (there are only two or three thousand of them), stick to + it, commit two or three every day, and by-and-by you will be proof against + them. When you are through you will be proof against all sins and morally + perfect. You will be vaccinated against every possible commission of them. + This is the only way. + </p> + <p> + I will read you a written statement upon the subject that I wrote three + years ago to read to the Sabbath-schools. [Here the lecturer turned his + pockets out, but without success.] No! I have left it at home. Still, it + was a mere statement of fact, illustrating the value of practical morals + produced by the commission of crime. + </p> + <p> + It was in my boyhood just a statement of fact, reading is only more + formal, merely facts, merely pathetic facts, which I can state so as to be + understood. It relates to the first time I ever stole a watermelon; that + is, I think it was the first time; anyway, it was right along there + somewhere. + </p> + <p> + I stole it out of a farmer’s wagon while he was waiting on another + customer. “Stole” is a harsh term. I withdrew—I retired that + watermelon. I carried it to a secluded corner of a lumber-yard. I broke it + open. It was green—the greenest watermelon raised in the valley that + year. + </p> + <p> + The minute I saw it was green I was sorry, and began to reflect—reflection + is the beginning of reform. If you don’t reflect when you commit a crime + then that crime is of no use; it might just as well have been committed by + some one else: You must reflect or the value is lost; you are not + vaccinated against committing it again. + </p> + <p> + I began to reflect. I said to myself: “What ought a boy to do who has + stolen a green watermelon? What would George Washington do, the father of + his country, the only American who could not tell a lie? What would he do? + There is only one right, high, noble thing for any boy to do who has + stolen a watermelon of that class: he must make restitution; he must + restore that stolen property to its rightful owner.” I said I would do it + when I made that good resolution. I felt it to be a noble, uplifting + obligation. I rose up spiritually stronger and refreshed. I carried that + watermelon back—what was left of it—and restored it to the + farmer, and made him give me a ripe one in its place. + </p> + <p> + Now you see that this constant impact of crime upon crime protects you + against further commission of crime. It builds you up. A man can’t become + morally perfect by stealing one or a thousand green watermelons, but every + little helps. + </p> + <p> + I was at a great school yesterday (St. Paul’s), where for four hundred + years they have been busy with brains, and building up England by + producing Pepys, Miltons, and Marlboroughs. Six hundred boys left to + nothing in the world but theoretical morality. I wanted to become the + professor of practical morality, but the high master was away, so I + suppose I shall have to go on making my living the same old way—by + adding practical to theoretical morality. + </p> + <p> + What are the glory that was Greece, the grandeur that was Rome, compared + to the glory and grandeur and majesty of a perfected morality such as you + see before you? + </p> + <p> + The New Vagabonds are old vagabonds (undergoing the old sort of reform). + You drank my health; I hope I have not been unuseful. Take this system of + morality to your hearts. Take it home to your neighbors and your graves, + and I hope that it will be a long time before you arrive there. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0035" id="link2H_4_0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LAYMAN’S SERMON + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The Young Men’s Christian Association asked Mr. Clemens to + deliver a lay sermon at the Majestic Theatre, New York, March + 4, 1906. More than five thousand young men tried to get into + the theatre, and in a short time traffic was practically + stopped in the adjacent streets. The police reserves had to be + called out to thin the crowd. Doctor Fagnani had said + something before about the police episode, and Mr. Clemens took + it up. +</pre> + <p> + I have been listening to what was said here, and there is in it a lesson + of citizenship. You created the police, and you are responsible for them. + One must pause, therefore, before criticising them too harshly. They are + citizens, just as we are. A little of citizenship ought to be taught at + the mother’s knee and in the nursery. Citizenship is what makes a + republic; monarchies can get along without it. What keeps a republic on + its legs is good citizenship. + </p> + <p> + Organization is necessary in all things. It is even necessary in reform. I + was an organization myself once—for twelve hours. I was in Chicago a + few years ago about to depart for New York. There were with me Mr. Osgood, + a publisher, and a stenographer. I picked out a state-room on a train, the + principal feature of which was that it contained the privilege of smoking. + The train had started but a short time when the conductor came in and said + that there had been a mistake made, and asked that we vacate the + apartment. I refused, but when I went out on the platform Osgood and the + stenographer agreed to accept a section. They were too modest. + </p> + <p> + Now, I am not modest. I was born modest, but it didn’t last. I asserted + myself; insisted upon my rights, and finally the Pullman Conductor and the + train conductor capitulated, and I was left in possession. + </p> + <p> + I went into the dining-car the next morning for breakfast. + Ordinarily I only care for coffee and rolls, but this particular morning I + espied an important-looking man on the other side of the car eating + broiled chicken. I asked for broiled chicken, and I was told by the waiter + and later by the dining-car conductor that there was no broiled chicken. + There must have been an argument, for the Pullman conductor came in and + remarked: “If he wants broiled chicken, give it to him. If you haven’t got + it on the train, stop somewhere. It will be better for all concerned!” I + got the chicken. + </p> + <p> + It is from experiences such as these that you get your education of life, + and you string them into jewels or into tinware, as you may choose. I have + received recently several letters asking my counsel or advice. The + principal request is for some incident that may prove helpful to the + young. There were a lot of incidents in my career to help me along—sometimes + they helped me along faster than I wanted to go. + </p> + <p> + Here is such a request. It is a telegram from Joplin, Missouri, and it + reads: “In what one of your works can we find the definition of a + gentleman?” + </p> + <p> + I have not answered that telegram, either; I couldn’t. It seems to me that + if any man has just merciful and kindly instincts he would be a gentleman, + for he would need nothing else in the world. + </p> + <p> + I received the other day a letter from my old friend, William Dean Howells—Howells, + the head of American literature. No one is able to stand with him. He is + an old, old friend of mine, and he writes me, “To-morrow I shall be + sixty-nine years old.” Why, I am surprised at Howells writing that! I have + known him longer than that. I’m sorry to see a man trying to appear so + young. Let’s see. Howells says now, “I see you have been burying Patrick. + I suppose he was old, too.” + </p> + <p> + No, he was never old—Patrick. He came to us thirty-six years ago. He + was my coachman on the morning that I drove my young bride to our new + home. He was a young Irishman, slender, tall, lithe, honest, truthful, and + he never changed in all his life. He really was with us but twenty-five + years, for he did not go with us to Europe, but he never regarded that as + separation. As the children grew up he was their guide. He was all honor, + honesty, and affection. He was with us in New Hampshire, with us last + summer, and his hair was just as black, his eyes were just as blue, his + form just as straight, and his heart just as good as on the day we first + met. In all the long years Patrick never made a mistake. He never needed + an order, he never received a command. He knew. I have been asked for my + idea of an ideal gentleman, and I give it to you Patrick McAleer. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0036" id="link2H_4_0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + UNIVERSITY SETTLEMENT SOCIETY + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + After the serious addresses were made, Seth Low introduced Mr. + Clemens at the Settlement House, February 2, 1901. +</pre> + <p> + The older we grow the greater becomes our wonder at how much ignorance one + can contain without bursting one’s clothes. Ten days ago I did not know + anything about the University Settlement except what I’d read in the + pamphlets sent me. Now, after being here and hearing Mrs. Hewitt and Mrs. + Thomas, it seems to me I know of nothing like it at all. It’s a charity + that carries no humiliation with it. Marvellous it is, to think of schools + where you don’t have to drive the children in but drive them out. It was + not so in my day. + </p> + <p> + Down-stairs just now I saw a dancing lesson going on. You must pay a cent + for a lesson. You can’t get it for nothing. That’s the reason I never + learned to dance. + </p> + <p> + But it was the pawnbroker’s shop you have here that interested me + mightily. I’ve known something about pawnbrokers’ shops in my time, but + here you have a wonderful plan. The ordinary pawnbroker charges thirty-six + per cent. a year for a loan, and I’ve paid more myself, but here a man or + woman in distress can obtain a loan for one per cent. a month! It’s + wonderful! + </p> + <p> + I’ve been interested in all I’ve heard to-day, especially in the romances + recounted by Mrs. Thomas, which reminds me that I have a romance of my own + in my autobiography, which I am building for the instruction of the world. + </p> + <p> + In San Francisco, many years ago, when I was a newspaper reporter (perhaps + I should say I had been and was willing to be), a pawnbroker was taking + care of what property I had. There was a friend of mine, a poet, out of a + job, and he was having a hard time of it, too. There was passage in it, + but I guess I’ve got to keep that for the autobiography. + </p> + <p> + Well, my friend the poet thought his life was a failure, and I told him I + thought it was, and then he said he thought he ought to commit suicide, + and I said “all right,” which was disinterested advice to a friend in + trouble; but, like all such advice, there was just a little bit of + self-interest back of it, for if I could get a “scoop” on the other + newspapers I could get a job. + </p> + <p> + The poet could be spared, and so, largely for his own good and partly for + mine, I kept the thing in his mind, which was necessary, as would-be + suicides are very changeable and hard to hold to their purpose. He had a + preference for a pistol, which was an extravagance, for we hadn’t enough + between us to hire a pistol. A fork would have been easier. + </p> + <p> + And so he concluded to drown himself, and I said it was an excellent idea—the + only trouble being that he was so good a swimmer. So we went down to the + beach. I went along to see that the thing was done right. Then something + most romantic happened. There came in on the sea something that had been + on its way for three years. It rolled in across the broad Pacific with a + message that was full of meaning to that poor poet and cast itself at his + feet. It was a life-preserver! This was a complication. And then I had an + idea—he never had any, especially when he was going to write poetry; + I suggested that we pawn the life-preserver and get a revolver. + </p> + <p> + The pawnbroker gave us an old derringer with a bullet as big as a hickory + nut. When he heard that it was only a poet that was going to kill himself + he did not quibble. Well, we succeeded in sending a bullet right through + his head. It was a terrible moment when he placed that pistol against his + forehead and stood for an instant. I said, “Oh, pull the trigger!” and he + did, and cleaned out all the gray matter in his brains. It carried the + poetic faculty away, and now he’s a useful member of society. + </p> + <p> + Now, therefore, I realize that there’s no more beneficent institution than + this penny fund of yours, and I want all the poets to know this. I did + think about writing you a check, but now I think I’ll send you a few + copies of what one of your little members called ‘Strawberry Finn’. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0037" id="link2H_4_0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PUBLIC EDUCATION ASSOCIATION + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT A MEETING OF THE BERKELEY LYCEUM, NEW YORK, + NOVEMBER 23, 1900 +</pre> + <p> + I don’t suppose that I am called here as an expert on education, for that + would show a lack of foresight on your part and a deliberate intention to + remind me of my shortcomings. + </p> + <p> + As I sat here looking around for an idea it struck me that I was called + for two reasons. One was to do good to me, a poor unfortunate traveller on + the world’s wide ocean, by giving me a knowledge of the nature and scope + of your society and letting me know that others beside myself have been of + some use in the world. The other reason that I can see is that you have + called me to show by way of contrast what education can accomplish if + administered in the right sort of doses. + </p> + <p> + Your worthy president said that the school pictures, which have received + the admiration of the world at the Paris Exposition, have been sent to + Russia, and this was a compliment from that Government—which is very + surprising to me. Why, it is only an hour since I read a cablegram in the + newspapers beginning “Russia Proposes to Retrench.” I was not expecting + such a thunderbolt, and I thought what a happy thing it will be for + Russians when the retrenchment will bring home the thirty thousand Russian + troops now in Manchuria, to live in peaceful pursuits. I thought this was + what Germany should do also without delay, and that France and all the + other nations in China should follow suit. + </p> + <p> + Why should not China be free from the foreigners, who are only making + trouble on her soil? If they would only all go home, what a pleasant place + China would be for the Chinese! We do not allow Chinamen to come here, and + I say in all seriousness that it would be a graceful thing to let China + decide who shall go there. + </p> + <p> + China never wanted foreigners any more than foreigners wanted Chinamen, + and on this question I am with the Boxers every time. The Boxer is a + patriot. He loves his country better than he does the countries of other + people. I wish him success. The Boxer believes in driving us out of his + country. I am a Boxer too, for I believe in driving him out of our + country. + </p> + <p> + When I read the Russian despatch further my dream of world peace vanished. + It said that the vast expense of maintaining the army had made it + necessary to retrench, and so the Government had decided that to support + the army it would be necessary to withdraw the appropriation from the + public schools. This is a monstrous idea to us. + </p> + <p> + We believe that out of the public school grows the greatness of a nation. + </p> + <p> + It is curious to reflect how history repeats itself the world over. Why, I + remember the same thing was done when I was a boy on the Mississippi + River. There was a proposition in a township there to discontinue public + schools because they were too expensive. An old farmer spoke up and said + if they stopped the schools they would not save anything, because every + time a school was closed a jail had to be built. + </p> + <p> + It’s like feeding a dog on his own tail. He’ll never get fat. I believe it + is better to support schools than jails. + </p> + <p> + The work of your association is better and shows more wisdom than the Czar + of Russia and all his people. This is not much of a compliment, but it’s + the best I’ve got in stock. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0038" id="link2H_4_0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + EDUCATION AND CITIZENSHIP + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + On the evening of May 14, 1908, the alumni of the College of + the City of New York celebrated the opening of the new college + buildings at a banquet in the Waldorf Astoria. Mr. Clemens + followed Mayor McClellan. +</pre> + <p> + I agreed when the Mayor said that there was not a man within hearing who + did not agree that citizenship should be placed above everything else, + even learning. + </p> + <p> + Have you ever thought about this? Is there a college in the whole country + where there is a chair of good citizenship? There is a kind of bad + citizenship which is taught in the schools, but no real good citizenship + taught. There are some which teach insane citizenship, bastard + citizenship, but that is all. Patriotism! Yes; but patriotism is usually + the refuge of the scoundrel. He is the man who talks the loudest. + </p> + <p> + You can begin that chair of citizenship in the College of the City of New + York. You can place it above mathematics and literature, and that is where + it belongs. + </p> + <p> + We used to trust in God. I think it was in 1863 that some genius suggested + that it be put upon the gold and silver coins which circulated among the + rich. They didn’t put it on the nickels and coppers because they didn’t + think the poor folks had any trust in God. + </p> + <p> + Good citizenship would teach accuracy of thinking and accuracy of + statement. Now, that motto on the coin is an overstatement. Those + Congressmen had no right to commit this whole country to a theological + doctrine. But since they did, Congress ought to state what our creed + should be. + </p> + <p> + There was never a nation in the world that put its whole trust in God. It + is a statement made on insufficient evidence. Leaving out the gamblers, + the burglars, and the plumbers, perhaps we do put our trust in God after a + fashion. But, after all, it is an overstatement. + </p> + <p> + If the cholera or black plague should come to these shores, perhaps the + bulk of the nation would pray to be delivered from it, but the rest would + put their trust in the Health Board of the City of New York. + </p> + <p> + I read in the papers within the last day or two of a poor young girl who + they said was a leper. Did the people in that populous section of the + country where she was—did they put their trust in God? The girl was + afflicted with the leprosy, a disease which cannot be communicated from + one person to another. + </p> + <p> + Yet, instead of putting their trust in God, they harried that poor + creature, shelterless and friendless, from place to place, exactly as they + did in the Middle Ages, when they made lepers wear bells, so that people + could be warned of their approach and avoid them. Perhaps those people in + the Middle Ages thought they were putting their trust in God. + </p> + <p> + The President ordered the removal of that motto from the coin, and I + thought that it was well. I thought that overstatement should not stay + there. But I think it would better read, “Within certain judicious + limitations we trust in God,” and if there isn’t enough room on the coin + for this, why, enlarge the coin. + </p> + <p> + Now I want to tell a story about jumping at conclusions. It was told to me + by Bram Stoker, and it concerns a christening. There was a little + clergyman who was prone to jump at conclusions sometimes. One day he was + invited to officiate at a christening. He went. There sat the relatives—intelligent-looking + relatives they were. The little clergyman’s instinct came to him to make a + great speech. He was given to flights of oratory that way—a very + dangerous thing, for often the wings which take one into clouds of + oratorical enthusiasm are wax and melt up there, and down you come. + </p> + <p> + But the little clergyman couldn’t resist. He took the child in his arms, + and, holding it, looked at it a moment. It wasn’t much of a child. It was + little, like a sweet-potato. Then the little clergyman waited + impressively, and then: “I see in your countenances,” he said, + “disappointment of him. I see you are disappointed with this baby. Why? + Because he is so little. My friends, if you had but the power of looking + into the future you might see that great things may come of little things. + There is the great ocean, holding the navies of the world, which comes + from little drops of water no larger than a woman’s tears. There are the + great constellations in the sky, made up of little bits of stars. Oh, if + you could consider his future you might see that he might become the + greatest poet of the universe, the greatest warrior the world has ever + known, greater than Caesar, than Hannibal, than—er—er” + (turning to the father)—“what’s his name?” + </p> + <p> + The father hesitated, then whispered back: “His name? Well, his name is + Mary Ann.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0039" id="link2H_4_0039"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + COURAGE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + At a beefsteak dinner, given by artists, caricaturists, and + humorists of New York City, April 18, 1908, Mr. Clemens, Mr. H. + H. Rogers, and Mr. Patrick McCarren were the guests of honor. + Each wore a white apron, and each made a short speech. +</pre> + <p> + In the matter of courage we all have our limits. + </p> + <p> + There never was a hero who did not have his bounds. I suppose it may be + said of Nelson and all the others whose courage has been advertised that + there came times in their lives when their bravery knew it had come to its + limit. + </p> + <p> + I have found mine a good many times. Sometimes this was expected—often + it was unexpected. I know a man who is not afraid to sleep with a + rattlesnake, but you could not get him to sleep with a safety-razor. + </p> + <p> + I never had the courage to talk across a long, narrow room. I should be at + the end of the room facing all the audience. If I attempt to talk across a + room I find myself turning this way and that, and thus at alternate + periods I have part of the audience behind me. You ought never to have any + part of the audience behind you; you never can tell what they are going to + do. + </p> + <p> + I’ll sit down. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0040" id="link2H_4_0040"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE DINNER TO MR. CHOATE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + AT A DINNER GIVEN IN HONOR OF AMBASSADOR JOSEPH H. CHOATE AT + THE LOTOS CLUB, NOVEMBER 24, 1902 + + The speakers, among others, were: Senator Depew, William Henry + White, Speaker Thomas Reed, and Mr. Choate. Mr. Clemens spoke, + in part, as follows: +</pre> + <p> + The greatness of this country rests on two anecdotes. The first one is + that of Washington and his hatchet, representing the foundation of true + speaking, which is the characteristic of our people. The second one is an + old one, and I’ve been waiting to hear it to-night; but as nobody has told + it yet, I will tell it. + </p> + <p> + You’ve heard it before, and you’ll hear it many, many times more. It is an + anecdote of our guest, of the time when he was engaged as a young man with + a gentle Hebrew, in the process of skinning the client. The main part in + that business is the collection of the bill for services in skinning the + man. “Services” is the term used in that craft for the operation of that + kind-diplomatic in its nature. + </p> + <p> + Choate’s—co-respondent—made out a bill for $500 for his + services, so called. But Choate told him he had better leave the matter to + him, and the next day he collected the bill for the services and handed + the Hebrew $5000, saying, “That’s your half of the loot,” and inducing + that memorable response: “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.” + </p> + <p> + The deep-thinkers didn’t merely laugh when that happened. They stopped to + think, and said “There’s a rising man. He must be rescued from the law and + consecrated to diplomacy. The commercial advantages of a great nation lie + there in that man’s keeping. We no longer require a man to take care of + our moral character before the world. Washington and his anecdote have + done that. We require a man to take care of our commercial prosperity.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Choate has carried that trait with him, and, as Mr. Carnegie has said, + he has worked like a mole underground. + </p> + <p> + We see the result when American railroad iron is sold so cheap in England + that the poorest family can have it. He has so beguiled that Cabinet of + England. + </p> + <p> + He has been spreading the commerce of this nation, and has depressed + English commerce in the same ratio. This was the principle underlying that + anecdote, and the wise men saw it; the principle of give and take—give + one and take ten—the principle of diplomacy. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0041" id="link2H_4_0041"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ON STANLEY AND LIVINGSTONE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Mr. Clemens was entertained at dinner by the Whitefriars’ Club, + London, at the Mitre Tavern, on the evening of August 6, 1872. + In reply to the toast in his honor he said: +</pre> + <p> + GENTLEMEN,—I thank you very heartily indeed for this expression of + kindness toward me. What I have done for England and civilization in the + arduous affairs which I have engaged in (that is good: that is so smooth + that I will say it again and again)—what I have done for England and + civilization in the arduous part I have performed I have done with a + single-hearted devotion and with no hope of reward. I am proud, I am very + proud, that it was reserved for me to find Doctor Livingstone and for Mr. + Stanley to get all the credit. I hunted for that man in Africa all over + seventy-five or one hundred parishes, thousands and thousands of miles in + the wilds and deserts all over the place, sometimes riding negroes and + sometimes travelling by rail. I didn’t mind the rail or anything else, so + that I didn’t come in for the tar and feathers. I found that man at Ujiji—a + place you may remember if you have ever been there—and it was a very + great satisfaction that I found him just in the nick of time. I found that + poor old man deserted by his niggers and by his geographers, deserted by + all of his kind except the gorillas—dejected, miserable, famishing, + absolutely famishing—but he was eloquent. Just as I found him he had + eaten his last elephant, and he said to me: “God knows where I shall get + another.” He had nothing to wear except his venerable and honorable naval + suit, and nothing to eat but his diary. + </p> + <p> + But I said to him: “It is all right; I have discovered you, and Stanley + will be here by the four-o’clock train and will discover you officially, + and then we will turn to and have a reg’lar good time.” I said: “Cheer up, + for Stanley has got corn, ammunition, glass beads, hymn-books, whiskey, + and everything which the human heart can desire; he has got all kinds of + valuables, including telegraph-poles and a few cart-loads of money. By + this time communication has been made with the land of Bibles and + civilization, and property will advance.” And then we surveyed all that + country, from Ujiji, through Unanogo and other places, to Unyanyembe. I + mention these names simply for your edification, nothing more—do not + expect it—particularly as intelligence to the Royal Geographical + Society. And then, having filled up the old man, we were all too full for + utterance and departed. We have since then feasted on honors. + </p> + <p> + Stanley has received a snuff-box and I have received considerable snuff; + he has got to write a book and gather in the rest of the credit, and I am + going to levy on the copyright and to collect the money. Nothing comes + amiss to me—cash or credit; but, seriously, I do feel that Stanley + is the chief man and an illustrious one, and I do applaud him with all my + heart. Whether he is an American or a Welshman by birth, or one, or both, + matters not to me. So far as I am personally concerned, I am simply here + to stay a few months, and to see English people and to learn English + manners and customs, and to enjoy myself; so the simplest thing I can do + is to thank you for the toast you have honored me with and for the remarks + you have made, and to wish health and prosperity to the Whitefriars’ Club, + and to sink down to my accustomed level. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0042" id="link2H_4_0042"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + HENRY M. STANLEY + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS DELIVERED IN BOSTON, NOVEMBER, 1886 + + Mr. Clemens introduced Mr. Stanley. +</pre> + <p> + LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, if any should ask, Why is it that you are here as + introducer of the lecturer? I should answer that I happened to be around + and was asked to perform this function. I was quite willing to do so, and, + as there was no sort of need of an introduction, anyway, it could be + necessary only that some person come forward for a moment and do an + unnecessary thing, and this is quite in my line. Now, to introduce so + illustrious a name as Henry M. Stanley by any detail of what the man has + done is clear aside from my purpose; that would be stretching the + unnecessary to an unconscionable degree. When I contrast what I have + achieved in my measurably brief life with what he has achieved in his + possibly briefer one, the effect is to sweep utterly away the ten-story + edifice of my own self-appreciation and leave nothing behind but the + cellar. When you compare these achievements of his with the achievements + of really great men who exist in history, the comparison, I believe, is in + his favor. I am not here to disparage Columbus. + </p> + <p> + No, I won’t do that; but when you come to regard the achievements of these + two men, Columbus and Stanley, from the standpoint of the difficulties + they encountered, the advantage is with Stanley and against Columbus. Now, + Columbus started out to discover America. Well, he didn’t need to do + anything at all but sit in the cabin of his ship and hold his grip and + sail straight on, and America would discover itself. Here it was, barring + his passage the whole length and breadth of the South American continent, + and he couldn’t get by it. He’d got to discover it. But Stanley started + out to find Doctor Livingstone, who was scattered abroad, as you may say, + over the length and breadth of a vast slab of Africa as big as the United + States. + </p> + <p> + It was a blind kind of search. He was the worst scattered of men. But I + will throw the weight of this introduction upon one very peculiar feature + of Mr. Stanley’s character, and that is his indestructible Americanism—an + Americanism which he is proud of. And in this day and time, when it is the + custom to ape and imitate English methods and fashion, it is like a breath + of fresh air to stand in the presence of this untainted American citizen + who has been caressed and complimented by half of the crowned heads of + Europe who could clothe his body from his head to his heels with the + orders and decorations lavished upon him. And yet, when the untitled + myriads of his own country put out their hands in welcome to him and greet + him, “Well done,” through the Congress of the United States, that is the + crown that is worth all the rest to him. He is a product of institutions + which exist in no other country on earth-institutions that bring out all + that is best and most heroic in a man. I introduce Henry M. Stanley. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0043" id="link2H_4_0043"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DINNER TO MR. JEROME + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + A dinner to express their confidence in the integrity and good + judgment of District-Attorney Jerome was given at Delmonico’s + by over three hundred of his admirers on the evening of May 7, + 1909. +</pre> + <p> + Indeed, that is very sudden. I was not informed that the verdict was going + to depend upon my judgment, but that makes not the least difference in the + world when you already know all about it. It is not any matter when you + are called upon to express it; you can get up and do it, and my verdict + has already been recorded in my heart and in my head as regards Mr. Jerome + and his administration of the criminal affairs of this county. + </p> + <p> + I agree with everything Mr. Choate has said in his letter regarding Mr. + Jerome; I agree with everything Mr. Shepard has said; and I agree with + everything Mr. Jerome has said in his own commendation. And I thought Mr. + Jerome was modest in that. If he had been talking about another officer of + this county, he could have painted the joys and sorrows of office and his + victories in even stronger language than he did. + </p> + <p> + I voted for Mr. Jerome in those old days, and I should like to vote for + him again if he runs for any office. I moved out of New York, and that is + the reason, I suppose, I cannot vote for him again. There may be some way, + but I have not found it out. But now I am a farmer—a farmer up in + Connecticut, and winning laurels. Those people already speak with such + high favor, admiration, of my farming, and they say that I am the only man + that has ever come to that region who could make two blades of grass grow + where only three grew before. + </p> + <p> + Well, I cannot vote for him. You see that. As it stands now, I cannot. I + am crippled in that way and to that extent, for I would ever so much like + to do it. I am not a Congress, and I cannot distribute pensions, and I + don’t know any other legitimate way to buy a vote. But if I should think + of any legitimate way, I shall make use of it, and then I shall vote for + Mr. Jerome. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0044" id="link2H_4_0044"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + HENRY IRVING + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The Dramatic and Literary Society of London gave a welcome-home + dinner to Sir Henry Irving at the Savoy Hotel, London, June 9, + 1900. In proposing the toast of “The Drama” Mr. Clemens said: +</pre> + <p> + I find my task a very easy one. I have been a dramatist for thirty years. + I have had an ambition in all that time to overdo the work of the Spaniard + who said he left behind him four hundred dramas when he died. I leave + behind me four hundred and fifteen, and am not yet dead. + </p> + <p> + The greatest of all the arts is to write a drama. It is a most difficult + thing. It requires the highest talent possible and the rarest gifts. No, + there is another talent that ranks with it—for anybody can write a + drama—I had four hundred of them—but to get one accepted + requires real ability. And I have never had that felicity yet. + </p> + <p> + But human nature is so constructed, we are so persistent, that when we + know that we are born to a thing we do not care what the world thinks + about it. We go on exploiting that talent year after year, as I have done. + I shall go on writing dramas, and some day the impossible may happen, but + I am not looking for it. + </p> + <p> + In writing plays the chief thing is novelty. The world grows tired of + solid forms in all the arts. I struck a new idea myself years ago. I was + not surprised at it. I was always expecting it would happen. A person who + has suffered disappointment for many years loses confidence, and I thought + I had better make inquiries before I exploited my new idea of doing a + drama in the form of a dream, so I wrote to a great authority on knowledge + of all kinds, and asked him whether it was new. + </p> + <p> + I could depend upon him. He lived in my dear home in America—that + dear home, dearer to me through taxes. He sent me a list of plays in which + that old device had been used, and he said that there was also a modern + lot. He travelled back to China and to a play dated two thousand six + hundred years before the Christian era. He said he would follow it up with + a list of the previous plays of the kind, and in his innocence would have + carried them back to the Flood. + </p> + <p> + That is the most discouraging thing that has ever happened to me in my + dramatic career. I have done a world of good in a silent and private way, + and have furnished Sir Henry Irving with plays and plays and plays. What + has he achieved through that influence? See where he stands now—on + the summit of his art in two worlds and it was I who put him there—that + partly put him there. + </p> + <p> + I need not enlarge upon the influence the drama has exerted upon + civilization. It has made good morals entertaining. I am to be followed by + Mr. Pinero. I conceive that we stand at the head of the profession. He has + not written as many plays as I have, but he has lead that God-given + talent, which I lack, of working them off on the manager. I couple his name + with this toast, and add the hope that his influence will be supported in + exercising his masterly handicraft in that great gift, and that he will + long live to continue his fine work. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0045" id="link2H_4_0045"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DINNER TO HAMILTON W. MABIE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS DELIVERED APRIL 29, 1901 + + In introducing Mr. Clemens, Doctor Van Dyke said: + + “The longer the speaking goes on to-night the more I wonder how + I got this job, and the only explanation I can give for it is + that it is the same kind of compensation for the number of + articles I have sent to The Outlook, to be rejected by Hamilton + W. Mabie. There is one man here to-night that has a job cut + out for him that none of you would have had—a man whose humor + has put a girdle of light around the globe, and whose sense of + humor has been an example for all five continents. He is going + to speak to you. Gentlemen, you know him best as Mark Twain.” + </pre> + <p> + MR. CHAIRMAN AND GENTLEMEN,—This man knows now how it feels to be + the chief guest, and if he has enjoyed it he is the first man I have ever + seen in that position that did enjoy it. And I know, by side-remarks which + he made to me before his ordeal came upon him, that he was feeling as some + of the rest of us have felt under the same circumstances. He was afraid + that he would not do himself justice; but he did—to my surprise. It + is a most serious thing to be a chief guest on an occasion like this, and + it is admirable, it is fine. It is a great compliment to a man that he + shall come out of it so gloriously as Mr. Mabie came out of it tonight—to + my surprise. He did it well. + </p> + <p> + He appears to be editor of The Outlook, and notwithstanding that, I have + every admiration, because when everything is said concerning The Outlook, + after all one must admit that it is frank in its delinquencies, that it is + outspoken in its departures from fact, that it is vigorous in its mistaken + criticisms of men like me. I have lived in this world a long, long time, + and I know you must not judge a man by the editorials that he puts in his + paper. A man is always better than his printed opinions. A man always + reserves to himself on the inside a purity and an honesty and a justice + that are a credit to him, whereas the things that he prints are just the + reverse. + </p> + <p> + Oh yes, you must not judge a man by what he writes in his paper. Even in + an ordinary secular paper a man must observe some care about it; he must + be better than the principles which he puts in print. And that is the case + with Mr. Mabie. Why, to see what he writes about me and the missionaries + you would think he did not have any principles. But that is Mr. Mabie in + his public capacity. Mr. Mabie in his private capacity is just as clean a + man as I am. + </p> + <p> + In this very room, a month or two ago, some people admired that portrait; + some admired this, but the great majority fastened on that, and said, + “There is a portrait that is a beautiful piece of art.” When that portrait + is a hundred years old it will suggest what were the manners and customs + in our time. Just as they talk about Mr. Mabie to-night, in that + enthusiastic way, pointing out the various virtues of the man and the + grace of his spirit, and all that, so was that portrait talked about. They + were enthusiastic, just as we men have been over the character and the + work of Mr. Mabie. And when they were through they said that portrait, + fine as it is, that work, beautiful as it is, that piece of humanity on + that canvas, gracious and fine as it is, does not rise to those + perfections that exist in the man himself. Come up, Mr. Alexander. [The + reference was to James W. Alexander, who happened to be sitting—beneath + the portrait of himself on the wall.] Now, I should come up and show + myself. But he cannot do it, he cannot do it. He was born that way, he was + reared in that way. Let his modesty be an example, and I wish some of you + had it, too. But that is just what I have been saying—that portrait, + fine as it is, is not as fine as the man it represents, and all the things + that have been said about Mr. Mabie, and certainly they have been very + nobly worded and beautiful, still fall short of the real Mabie. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0046" id="link2H_4_0046"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + INTRODUCING NYE AND RILEY + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + James Whitcomb Riley and Edgar Wilson Nye (Bill Nye) were to + give readings in Tremont Temple, Boston, November, 1888. Mr. + Clemens was induced to introduce Messrs. Riley and Nye. His + appearance on the platform was a surprise to the audience, and + when they recognized him there was a tremendous demonstration. +</pre> + <p> + I am very glad indeed to introduce these young people to you, and at the + same time get acquainted with them myself. I have seen them more than once + for a moment, but have not had the privilege of knowing them personally as + intimately as I wanted to. I saw them first, a great many years ago, when + Mr. Barnum had them, and they were just fresh from Siam. The ligature was + their best hold then, the literature became their best hold later, when + one of them committed an indiscretion, and they had to cut the old bond to + accommodate the sheriff. + </p> + <p> + In that old former time this one was Chang, that one was Eng. The sympathy + existing between the two was most extraordinary; it was so fine, so + strong, so subtle, that what the one ate the other digested; when one + slept, the other snored; if one sold a thing, the other scooped the + usufruct. This independent and yet dependent action was observable in all + the details of their daily life—I mean this quaint and arbitrary + distribution of originating cause and resulting effect between the two—between, + I may say, this dynamo and the other always motor, or, in other words, + that the one was always the creating force, the other always the utilizing + force; no, no, for while it is true that within certain well-defined zones + of activity the one was always dynamo and the other always motor, within + certain other well-defined zones these positions became exactly reversed. + </p> + <p> + For instance, in moral matters Mr. Chang Riley was always dynamo, Mr. Eng + Nye was always motor; for while Mr. Chang Riley had a high—in fact, + an abnormally high and fine moral sense, he had no machinery to work it + with; whereas, Mr. Eng Nye, who hadn’t any moral sense at all, and hasn’t + yet, was equipped with all the necessary plant for putting a noble deed + through, if he could only get the inspiration on reasonable terms outside. + </p> + <p> + In intellectual matters, on the other hand, Mr. Eng Nye was always dynamo, + Mr. Chang Riley was always motor; Mr. Eng Nye had a stately intellect, but + couldn’t make it go; Mr. Chang Riley hadn’t, but could. That is to say, + that while Mr. Chang Riley couldn’t think things himself, he had a + marvellous natural grace in setting them down and weaving them together + when his pal furnished the raw material. + </p> + <p> + Thus, working together, they made a strong team; laboring together, they + could do miracles; but break the circuit, and both were impotent. It has + remained so to this day: they must travel together, hoe, and plant, and + plough, and reap, and sell their public together, or there’s no result. + </p> + <p> + I have made this explanation, this analysis, this vivisection, so to + speak, in order that you may enjoy these delightful adventurers + understandingly. When Mr. Eng Nye’s deep and broad and limpid philosophies + flow by in front of you, refreshing all the regions round about with their + gracious floods, you will remember that it isn’t his water; it’s the other + man’s, and he is only working the pump. And when Mr. Chang Riley enchants + your ear, and soothes your spirit, and touches your heart with the sweet + and genuine music of his poetry—as sweet and as genuine as any that + his friends, the birds and the bees, make about his other friends, the + woods and the flowers—you will remember, while placing justice where + justice is due, that it isn’t his music, but the other man’s—he is + only turning the crank. + </p> + <p> + I beseech for these visitors a fair field, a singleminded, one-eyed + umpire, and a score bulletin barren of goose-eggs if they earn it—and + I judge they will and hope they will. Mr. James Whitcomb Chang Riley will + now go to the bat. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0047" id="link2H_4_0047"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DINNER TO WHITELAW REID + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE DINNER IN HONOR OF AMBASSADOR REID, GIVEN BY THE + PILGRIMS’ CLUB OF NEW YORK ON FEBRUARY 19, 1908 +</pre> + <p> + I am very proud to respond to this toast, as it recalls the proudest day + of my life. The delightful hospitality shown me at the time of my visit to + Oxford I shall cherish until I die. In that long and distinguished career + of mine I value that degree above all other honors. When the ship landed + even the stevedores gathered on the shore and gave an English cheer. + Nothing could surpass in my life the pleasure of those four weeks. No one + could pass by me without taking my hand, even the policemen. I’ve been in + all the principal capitals of Christendom in my life, and have always been + an object of interest to policemen. Sometimes there was suspicion in their + eyes, but not always. With their puissant hand they would hold up the + commerce of the world to let me pass. + </p> + <p> + I noticed in the papers this afternoon a despatch from Washington, saying + that Congress would immediately pass a bill restoring to our gold coinage + the motto “In God We Trust.” I’m glad of that; I’m glad of that. I was + troubled when that motto was removed. Sure enough, the prosperities of the + whole nation went down in a heap when we ceased to trust in God in that + conspicuously advertised way. I knew there would be trouble. And if + Pierpont Morgan hadn’t stepped in—Bishop Lawrence may now add to his + message to the old country that we are now trusting in God again. So we + can discharge Mr. Morgan from his office with honor. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Reid said an hour or so ago something about my ruining my activities + last summer. They are not ruined, they are renewed. I am stronger now—much + stronger. I suppose that the spiritual uplift I received increased my + physical power more than anything I ever had before. I was dancing last + night at 2.30 o’clock. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Choate has mentioned Mr. Reid’s predecessors. Mr. Choate’s head is + full of history, and some of it is true, too. I enjoyed hearing him tell + about the list of the men who had the place before he did. He mentioned a + long list of those predecessors, people I never heard of before, and + elected five of them to the Presidency by his own vote. I’m glad and proud + to find Mr. Reid in that high position, because he didn’t look it when I + knew him forty years ago. I was talking to Reid the other day, and he + showed me my autograph on an old paper twenty years old. I didn’t know I + had an autograph twenty years ago. Nobody ever asked me for it. + </p> + <p> + I remember a dinner I had long ago with Whitelaw Reid and John Hay at + Reid’s expense. I had another last summer when I was in London at the + embassy that Choate blackguards so. I’d like to live there. + </p> + <p> + Some people say they couldn’t live on the salary, but I could live on the + salary and the nation together. Some of us don’t appreciate what this + country can do. There’s John Hay, Reid, Choate, and me. This is the only + country in the world where youth, talent, and energy can reach such + heights. It shows what we could do without means, and what people can do + with talent and energy when they find it in people like us. + </p> + <p> + When I first came to New York they were all struggling young men, and I am + glad to see that they have got on in the world. I knew John Hay when I had + no white hairs in my head and more hair than Reid has now. Those were days + of joy and hope. Reid and Hay were on the staff of the Tribune. I went + there once in that old building, and I looked all around and I finally + found a door ajar and looked in. It wasn’t Reid or Hay there, but it was + Horace Greeley. Those were in the days when Horace Greeley was a king. + That was the first time I ever saw him and the last. + </p> + <p> + I was admiring him when he stopped and seemed to realize that there was a + fine presence there somewhere. He tried to smile, but he was out of + smiles. He looked at me a moment, and said: + </p> + <p> + “What in H—-do you want?” + </p> + <p> + He began with that word “H.” That’s a long word and a profane word. I + don’t remember what the word was now, but I recognized the power of it. I + had never used that language myself, but at that moment I was converted. + It has been a great refuge for me in time of trouble. If a man doesn’t + know that language he can’t express himself on strenuous occasions. When + you have that word at your command let trouble come. + </p> + <p> + But later Hay rose, and you know what summit Whitelaw Reid has reached, + and you see me. Those two men have regulated troubles of nations and + conferred peace upon mankind. And in my humble way, of which I am quite + vain, I was the principal moral force in all those great international + movements. These great men illustrated what I say. Look at us great people—we + all come from the dregs of society. That’s what can be done in this + country. That’s what this country does for you. + </p> + <p> + Choate here—he hasn’t got anything to say, but he says it just the + same, and he can do it so felicitously, too. I said long ago he was the + handsomest man America ever produced. May the progress of civilization + always rest on such distinguished men as it has in the past! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0048" id="link2H_4_0048"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ROGERS AND RAILROADS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + AT A BANQUET GIVEN MR. H. H. ROGERS BY THE BUSINESS MEN OF + NORFOLK, VA., CELEBRATING THE OPENING OF THE VIRGINIAN RAILWAY, + APRIL, 3, 1909 + + Toastmaster: + + “I have often thought that when the time comes, which must come + to all of us, when we reach that Great Way in the Great Beyond, + and the question is propounded, ‘What have you done to gain + admission into this great realm?’ if the answer could be + sincerely made, ‘I have made men laugh,’ it would be the surest + passport to a welcome entrance. We have here to-night one who + has made millions laugh—not the loud laughter that bespeaks + the vacant mind, but the laugh of intelligent mirth that helps + the human heart and the human mind. I refer, of course, to + Doctor Clemens. I was going to say Mark Twain, his literary + title, which is a household phrase in more homes than that of + any other man, and you know him best by that dear old title.” + </pre> + <p> + I thank you, Mr. Toastmaster, for the compliment which you have paid me, + and I am sure I would rather have made people laugh than cry, yet in my + time I have made some of them cry; and before I stop entirely I hope to + make some more of them cry. I like compliments. I deal in them myself. I + have listened with the greatest pleasure to the compliments which the + chairman has paid to Mr. Rogers and that road of his to-night, and I hope + some of them are deserved. + </p> + <p> + It is no small distinction to a man like that to sit here before an + intelligent crowd like this and to be classed with Napoleon and Caesar. + Why didn’t he say that this was the proudest day of his life? Napoleon and + Caesar are dead, and they can’t be here to defend themselves. But I’m + here! + </p> + <p> + The chairman said, and very truly, that the most lasting thing in the + hands of man are the roads which Caesar built, and it is true that he + built a lot of them; and they are there yet. + </p> + <p> + Yes, Caesar built a lot of roads in England, and you can find them. But + Rogers has only built one road, and he hasn’t finished that yet. I like to + hear my old friend complimented, but I don’t like to hear it overdone. + </p> + <p> + I didn’t go around to-day with the others to see what he is doing. I will + do that in a quiet time, when there is not anything going on, and when I + shall not be called upon to deliver intemperate compliments on a railroad + in which I own no stock. + </p> + <p> + They proposed that I go along with the committee and help inspect that + dump down yonder. I didn’t go. I saw that dump. I saw that thing when I + was coming in on the steamer, and I didn’t go because I was diffident, + sentimentally diffident, about going and looking at that thing again—that + great, long, bony thing; it looked just like Mr. Rogers’s foot. + </p> + <p> + The chairman says Mr. Rogers is full of practical wisdom, and he is. It is + intimated here that he is a very ingenious man, and he is a very + competent financier. Maybe he is now, but it was not always so. I know + lots of private things in his life which people don’t know, and I know how + he started; and it was not a very good start. I could have done better + myself. The first time he crossed the Atlantic he had just made the first + little strike in oil, and he was so young he did not like to ask + questions. He did not like to appear ignorant. To this day he don’t like + to appear ignorant, but he can look as ignorant as anybody. On board the + ship they were betting on the run of the ship, betting a couple of + shillings, or half a crown, and they proposed that this youth from the oil + regions should bet on the run of the ship. He did not like to ask what a + half-crown was, and he didn’t know; but rather than be ashamed of himself + he did bet half a crown on the run of the ship, and in bed he could not + sleep. He wondered if he could afford that outlay in case he lost. He kept + wondering over it, and said to himself: “A king’s crown must be worth + $20,000, so half a crown would cost $10,000.” He could not afford to bet + away $10,000 on the run of the ship, so he went up to the stakeholder and + gave him $150 to let him off. + </p> + <p> + I like to hear Mr. Rogers complimented. I am not stingy in compliments to + him myself. Why, I did it to-day when I sent his wife a telegram to + comfort her. That is the kind of person I am. I knew she would be uneasy + about him. I knew she would be solicitous about what he might do down + here, so I did it to quiet her and to comfort her. I said he was doing + well for a person out of practice. There is nothing like it. He is like I + used to be. There were times when I was careless—careless in my + dress when I got older. You know how uncomfortable your wife can get when + you are going away without her superintendence. Once when my wife could + not go with me (she always went with me when she could—I always did + meet that kind of luck), I was going to Washington once, a long time ago, + in Mr. Cleveland’s first administration, and she could not go; but, in her + anxiety that I should not desecrate the house, she made preparation. She + knew that there was to be a reception of those authors at the White House + at seven o’clock in the evening. She said, “If I should tell you now what + I want to ask of you, you would forget it before you get to Washington, + and, therefore, I have written it on a card, and you will find it in your + dress-vest pocket when you are dressing at the Arlington—when + you are dressing to see the President.” I never thought of it again until + I was dressing, and I felt in that pocket and took it out, and it said, in + a kind of imploring way, “Don’t wear your arctics in the White House.” + </p> + <p> + You complimented Mr. Rogers on his energy, his foresightedness, + complimented him in various ways, and he has deserved those compliments, + although I say it myself; and I enjoy them all. There is one side of Mr. + Rogers that has not been mentioned. If you will leave that to me I will + touch upon that. There was a note in an editorial in one of the Norfolk + papers this morning that touched upon that very thing, that hidden side of + Mr. Rogers, where it spoke of Helen Keller and her affection for Mr. + Rogers, to whom she dedicated her life book. And she has a right to feel + that way, because, without the public knowing anything about it, he + rescued, if I may use that term, that marvellous girl, that wonderful + Southern girl, that girl who was stone deaf, blind, and dumb from + scarlet-fever when she was a baby eighteen months old; and who now is as + well and thoroughly educated as any woman on this planet at twenty-nine + years of age. She is the most marvellous person of her sex that has + existed on this earth since Joan of Arc. + </p> + <p> + That is not all Mr. Rogers has done; but you never see that side of his + character, because it is never protruding; but he lends a helping hand + daily out of that generous heart of his. You never hear of it. He is + supposed to be a moon which has one side dark and the other bright. But + the other side, though you don’t see it, is not dark; it is bright, and + its rays penetrate, and others do see it who are not God. + </p> + <p> + I would take this opportunity to tell something that I have never been + allowed to tell by Mr. Rogers, either by my mouth or in print, and if I + don’t look at him I can tell it now. + </p> + <p> + In 1893, when the publishing company of Charles L. Webster, of which I was + financial agent, failed, it left me heavily in debt. If you will remember + what commerce was at that time you will recall that you could not sell + anything, and could not buy anything, and I was on my back; my books were + not worth anything at all, and I could not give away my copyrights. Mr. + Rogers had long enough vision ahead to say, “Your books have supported you + before, and after the panic is over they will support you again,” and that + was a correct proposition. He saved my copyrights, and saved me from + financial ruin. He it was who arranged with my creditors to allow me to + roam the face of the earth for four years and persecute the nations + thereof with lectures, promising that at the end of four years I would pay + dollar for dollar. That arrangement was made; otherwise I would now be + living out-of-doors under an umbrella, and a borrowed one at that. + </p> + <p> + You see his white mustache and his head trying to get white (he is always + trying to look like me—I don’t blame him for that). These are only + emblematic of his character, and that is all. I say, without exception, + hair and all, he is the whitest man I have ever known. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0049" id="link2H_4_0049"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE OLD-FASHIONED PRINTER + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE TYPOTHETAE DINNER GIVEN AT DELMONICO’S, + JANUARY 18, 1886, COMMEMORATING THE BIRTHDAY OF + BENJAMIN FRANKLIN + + Mr. Clemens responded to the toast “The Compositor.” + </pre> + <p> + The chairman’s historical reminiscences of Gutenberg have caused me to + fall into reminiscences, for I myself am something of an antiquity. All + things change in the procession of years, and it may be that I am among + strangers. It may be that the printer of to-day is not the printer of + thirty-five years ago. I was no stranger to him. I knew him well. I built + his fire for him in the winter mornings; I brought his water from the + village pump; I swept out his office; I picked up his type from under his + stand; and, if he were there to see, I put the good type in his case and + the broken ones among the “hell matter”; and if he wasn’t there to see, I + dumped it all with the “pi” on the imposing-stone—for that was the + furtive fashion of the cub, and I was a cub. I wetted down the paper + Saturdays, I turned it Sundays—for this was a country weekly; I + rolled, I washed the rollers, I washed the forms, I folded the papers, I + carried them around at dawn Thursday mornings. The carrier was then an + object of interest to all the dogs in town. If I had saved up all the + bites I ever received, I could keep M. Pasteur busy for a year. I + enveloped the papers that were for the mail—we had a hundred town + subscribers and three hundred and fifty country ones; the town subscribers + paid in groceries and the country ones in cabbages and cord-wood—when + they paid at all, which was merely sometimes, and then we always stated + the fact in the paper, and gave them a puff; and if we forgot it they + stopped the paper. Every man on the town list helped edit the thing—that + is, he gave orders as to how it was to be edited; dictated its opinions, + marked out its course for it, and every time the boss failed to connect he + stopped his paper. We were just infested with critics, and we tried to + satisfy them all over. We had one subscriber who paid cash, and he was + more trouble than all the rest. He bought us once a year, body and soul, + for two dollars. He used to modify our politics every which way, and he + made us change our religion four times in five years. If we ever tried to + reason with him, he would threaten to stop his paper, and, of course, that + meant bankruptcy and destruction. That man used to write articles a column + and a half long, leaded long primer, and sign them “Junius,” or “Veritas,” + or “Vox Populi,” or some other high-sounding rot; and then, after it was + set up, he would come in and say he had changed his mind-which was a + gilded figure of speech, because he hadn’t any—and order it to be + left out. We couldn’t afford “bogus” in that office, so we always took the + leads out, altered the signature, credited the article to the rival paper + in the next village, and put it in. Well, we did have one or two kinds of + “bogus.” Whenever there was a barbecue, or a circus, or a baptizing, we + knocked off for half a day, and then to make up for short matter we would + “turn over ads”—turn over the whole page and duplicate it. The other + “bogus” was deep philosophical stuff, which we judged nobody ever read; so + we kept a galley of it standing, and kept on slapping the same old batches + of it in, every now and then, till it got dangerous. Also, in the early + days of the telegraph we used to economize on the news. We picked out the + items that were pointless and barren of information and stood them on a + galley, and changed the dates and localities, and used them over and over + again till the public interest in them was worn to the bone. We marked the + ads, but we seldom paid any attention to the marks afterward; so the life + of a “td” ad and a “tf” ad was equally eternal. I have seen a “td” notice + of a sheriff’s sale still booming serenely along two years after the sale + was over, the sheriff dead, and the whole circumstance become ancient + history. Most of the yearly ads were patent-medicine stereotypes, and we + used to fence with them. + </p> + <p> + I can see that printing-office of prehistoric times yet, with its horse + bills on the walls, its “d” boxes clogged with tallow, because we always + stood the candle in the “k” box nights, its towel, which was not + considered soiled until it could stand alone, and other signs and symbols + that marked the establishment of that kind in the Mississippi Valley; and + I can see, also, the tramping “jour,” who flitted by in the summer and + tarried a day, with his wallet stuffed with one shirt and a hatful of + handbills; for if he couldn’t get any type to set he would do a temperance + lecture. His way of life was simple, his needs not complex; all he wanted + was plate and bed and money enough to get drunk on, and he was satisfied. + But it may be, as I have said, that I am among strangers, and sing the + glories of a forgotten age to unfamiliar ears, so I will “make even” and + stop. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0050" id="link2H_4_0050"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SOCIETY OF AMERICAN AUTHORS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + On November 15, 1900, the society gave a reception to Mr. + Clemens, who came with his wife and daughter. So many members + surrounded the guests that Mr. Clemens asked: “Is this genuine + popularity or is it all a part of a prearranged programme?” + </pre> + <p> + MR. CHAIRMAN, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,—It seems a most difficult thing + for any man to say anything about me that is not complimentary. I don’t + know what the charm is about me which makes it impossible for a person to + say a harsh thing about me and say it heartily, as if he was glad to say + it. + </p> + <p> + If this thing keeps on it will make me believe that I am what these kind + chairmen say of me. In introducing me, Judge Ransom spoke of my modesty as + if he was envious of me. I would like to have one man come out flat-footed + and say something harsh and disparaging of me, even if it were true. I + thought at one time, as the learned judge was speaking, that I had found + that man; but he wound up, like all the others, by saying complimentary + things. + </p> + <p> + I am constructed like everybody else, and enjoy a compliment as well as + any other fool, but I do like to have the other side presented. And there + is another side. I have a wicked side. Estimable friends who know all + about it would tell you and take a certain delight in telling you things + that I have done, and things further that I have not repented. + </p> + <p> + The real life that I live, and the real life that I suppose all of you + live, is a life of interior sin. That is what makes life valuable and + pleasant. To lead a life of undiscovered sin! That is true joy. + </p> + <p> + Judge Ransom seems to have all the virtues that he ascribes to me. But, oh + my! if you could throw an X-ray through him. We are a pair. I have made a + life-study of trying to appear to be what he seems to think I am. + Everybody believes that I am a monument of all the virtues, but it is + nothing of the sort. I am living two lives, and it keeps me pretty busy. + </p> + <p> + Some day there will be a chairman who will forget some of these merits of + mine, and then he will make a speech. + </p> + <p> + I have more personal vanity than modesty, and twice as much veracity as + the two put together. + </p> + <p> + When that fearless and forgetful chairman is found there will be another + story told. At the Press Club recently I thought that I had found him. He + started in in the way that I knew I should be painted with all sincerity, + and was leading to things that would not be to my credit; but when he said + that he never read a book of mine I knew at once that he was a liar, + because he never could have had all the wit and intelligence with which he + was blessed unless he had read my works as a basis. + </p> + <p> + I like compliments. I like to go home and tell them all over again to the + members of my family. They don’t believe them, but I like to tell them in + the home circle, all the same. I like to dream of them if I can. + </p> + <p> + I thank everybody for their compliments, but I don’t think that I am + praised any more than I am entitled to be. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0051" id="link2H_4_0051"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + READING-ROOM OPENING + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + On October 13, 1900, Mr. Clemens made his last address + preceding his departure for America at Kensal Rise, London. +</pre> + <p> + I formally declare this reading-room open, and I think that the + legislature should not compel a community to provide itself with + intelligent food, but give it the privilege of providing it if the + community so desires. + </p> + <p> + If the community is anxious to have a reading-room it would put its hand + in its pocket and bring out the penny tax. I think it a proof of the + healthy, moral, financial, and mental condition of the community if it + taxes itself for its mental food. + </p> + <p> + A reading-room is the proper introduction to a library, leading up through + the newspapers and magazines to other literature. What would we do without + newspapers? + </p> + <p> + Look at the rapid manner in which the news of the Galveston disaster was + made known to the entire world. This reminds me of an episode which + occurred fifteen years ago when I was at church in Hartford, Connecticut. + </p> + <p> + The clergyman decided to make a collection for the survivors, if any. He + did not include me among the leading citizens who took the plates around + for collection. I complained to the governor of his lack of financial + trust in me, and he replied: “I would trust you myself—if you had a + bell-punch.” + </p> + <p> + You have paid me many compliments, and I like to listen to compliments. I + indorse all your chairman has said to you about the union of England and + America. He also alluded to my name, of which I am rather fond. + </p> + <p> + A little girl wrote me from New Zealand in a letter I received yesterday, + stating that her father said my proper name was not Mark Twain but Samuel + Clemens, but that she knew better, because Clemens was the name of the man + who sold the patent medicine, and his name was not Mark. She was sure it + was Mark Twain, because Mark is in the Bible and Twain is in the Bible. + </p> + <p> + I was very glad to get that expression of confidence in my origin, and as + I now know my name to be a scriptural one, I am not without hopes of + making it worthy. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0052" id="link2H_4_0052"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LITERATURE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE ROYAL LITERARY FUND BANQUET, LONDON, MAY 4, 1900 + + Anthony Hope introduced Mr. Clemens to make the response to the + toast “Literature.” + </pre> + <p> + MR. HOPE has been able to deal adequately with this toast without + assistance from me. Still, I was born generous. If he had advanced any + theories that needed refutation or correction I would have attended to + them, and if he had made any statements stronger than those which he is in + the habit of making I would have dealt with them. + </p> + <p> + In fact, I was surprised at the mildness of his statements. I could not + have made such statements if I had preferred to, because to exaggerate is + the only way I can approximate to the truth. You cannot have a theory + without principles. Principles is another name for prejudices. I have no + prejudices in politics, religion, literature, or anything else. + </p> + <p> + I am now on my way to my own country to run for the presidency because + there are not yet enough candidates in the field, and those who have + entered are too much hampered by their own principles, which are + prejudices. + </p> + <p> + I propose to go there to purify the political atmosphere. I am in favor of + everything everybody is in favor of. What you should do is to satisfy the + whole nation, not half of it, for then you would only be half a President. + </p> + <p> + There could not be a broader platform than mine. I am in favor of anything + and everything—of temperance and intemperance, morality and + qualified immorality, gold standard and free silver. + </p> + <p> + I have tried all sorts of things, and that is why I want to try the great + position of ruler of a country. I have been in turn reporter, editor, + publisher, author, lawyer, burglar. I have worked my way up, and wish to + continue to do so. + </p> + <p> + I read to-day in a magazine article that Christendom issued last year + fifty-five thousand new books. Consider what that means! Fifty-five + thousand new books meant fifty-four thousand new authors. We are going to + have them all on our hands to take care of sooner or later. Therefore, + double your subscriptions to the literary fund! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0053" id="link2H_4_0053"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DISAPPEARANCE OF LITERATURE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE DINNER OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY CLUB, AT + SHERRY’S, NEW YORK, NOVEMBER 20, 1900 + + Mr. Clemens spoke to the toast “The Disappearance of + Literature.” Doctor Gould presided, and in introducing + Mr. Clemens said that he (the speaker), when in Germany, had to + do a lot of apologizing for a certain literary man who was + taking what the Germans thought undue liberties with their + language. +</pre> + <p> + It wasn’t necessary for your chairman to apologize for me in Germany. It + wasn’t necessary at all. Instead of that he ought to have impressed upon + those poor benighted Teutons the service I rendered them. Their language + had needed untangling for a good many years. Nobody else seemed to want to + take the job, and so I took it, and I flatter myself that I made a pretty + good job of it. The Germans have an inhuman way of cutting up their verbs. + Now a verb has a hard time enough of it in this world when it’s all + together. It’s downright inhuman to split it up. But that’s just what + those Germans do. They take part of a verb and put it down here, like a + stake, and they take the other part of it and put it away over yonder like + another stake, and between these two limits they just shovel in German. I + maintain that there is no necessity for apologizing for a man who helped + in a small way to stop such mutilation. + </p> + <p> + We have heard a discussion to-night on the disappearance of literature. + That’s no new thing. That’s what certain kinds of literature have been + doing for several years. The fact is, my friends, that the fashion in + literature changes, and the literary tailors have to change their cuts or + go out of business. Professor Winchester here, if I remember fairly + correctly what he said, remarked that few, if any, of the novels produced + to-day would live as long as the novels of Walter Scott. That may be his + notion. Maybe he is right; but so far as I am concerned, I don’t care if + they don’t. + </p> + <p> + Professor Winchester also said something about there being no modern epics + like Paradise Lost. I guess he’s right. He talked as if he was pretty + familiar with that piece of literary work, and nobody would suppose that + he never had read it. I don’t believe any of you have ever read Paradise + Lost, and you don’t want to. That’s something that you just want to take + on trust. It’s a classic, just as Professor Winchester says, and it meets + his definition of a classic—something that everybody wants to have + read and nobody wants to read. + </p> + <p> + Professor Trent also had a good deal to say about the disappearance of + literature. He said that Scott would outlive all his critics. I guess + that’s true. The fact of the business is, you’ve got to be one of two ages + to appreciate Scott. When you’re eighteen you can read Ivanhoe, and you + want to wait until you are ninety to read some of the rest. It takes a + pretty well-regulated, abstemious critic to live ninety years. + </p> + <p> + But as much as these two gentlemen have talked about the disappearance of + literature, they didn’t say anything about my books. Maybe they think + they’ve disappeared. If they do, that just shows their ignorance on the + general subject of literature. I am not as young as I was several years + ago, and maybe I’m not so fashionable, but I’d be willing to take my + chances with Mr. Scott to-morrow morning in selling a piece of literature + to the Century Publishing Company. And I haven’t got much of a pull here, + either. I often think that the highest compliment ever paid to my poor + efforts was paid by Darwin through President Eliot, of Harvard College. At + least, Eliot said it was a compliment, and I always take the opinion of + great men like college presidents on all such subjects as that. + </p> + <p> + I went out to Cambridge one day a few years ago and called on President + Eliot. In the course of the conversation he said that he had just returned + from England, and that he was very much touched by what he considered the + high compliment Darwin was paying to my books, and he went on to tell me + something like this: + </p> + <p> + “Do you know that there is one room in Darwin’s house, his bedroom, where + the housemaid is never allowed to touch two things? One is a plant he is + growing and studying while it grows” (it was one of those insect-devouring + plants which consumed bugs and beetles and things for the particular + delectation of Mr. Darwin) “and the other some books that lie on the night + table at the head of his bed. They are your books, Mr. Clemens, and Mr. + Darwin reads them every night to lull him to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + My friends, I thoroughly appreciated that compliment, and considered it + the highest one that was ever paid to me. To be the means of soothing to + sleep a brain teeming with bugs and squirming things like Darwin’s was + something that I had never hoped for, and now that he is dead I never hope + to be able to do it again. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0054" id="link2H_4_0054"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE NEW YORK PRESS CLUB DINNER + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + AT THE ANNUAL DINNER, NOVEMBER 13, 1900 + + Col. William L. Brown, the former editor of the Daily News, as + president of the club, introduced Mr. Clemens as the principal + ornament of American literature. +</pre> + <p> + I must say that I have already begun to regret that I left my gun at home. + I’ve said so many times when a chairman has distressed me with just such + compliments that the next time such a thing occurs I will certainly use a + gun on that chairman. It is my privilege to compliment him in return. You + behold before you a very, very old man. A cursory glance at him would + deceive the most penetrating. His features seem to reveal a person dead to + all honorable instincts—they seem to bear the traces of all the + known crimes, instead of the marks of a life spent for the most part, and + now altogether, in the Sunday-school of a life that may well stand as an + example to all generations that have risen or will riz—I mean to + say, will rise. His private character is altogether suggestive of virtues + which to all appearances he has not. If you examine his past history you + will find it as deceptive as his features, because it is marked all over + with waywardness and misdemeanor—mere effects of a great spirit upon + a weak body—mere accidents of a great career. In his heart he + cherishes every virtue on the list of virtues, and he practises them all—secretly—always + secretly. You all know him so well that there is no need for him to be + introduced here. Gentlemen, Colonel Brown. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0055" id="link2H_4_0055"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE ALPHABET AND SIMPLIFIED SPELLING + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE DINNER GIVEN TO MR. CARNEGIE AT THE DEDICATION + OF THE NEW YORK ENGINEERS’ CLUB, DECEMBER 9, 1907 + + Mr. Clemens was introduced by the president of the club, who, + quoting from the Mark Twain autobiography, recalled the day + when the distinguished writer came to New York with $3 in small + change in his pockets and a $10 bill sewed in his clothes. +</pre> + <p> + It seems to me that I was around here in the neighborhood of the Public + Library about fifty or sixty years ago. I don’t deny the circumstance, + although I don’t see how you got it out of my autobiography, which was not + to be printed until I am dead, unless I’m dead now. I had that $3 in + change, and I remember well the $10 which was sewed in my coat. I have + prospered since. Now I have plenty of money and a disposition to squander + it, but I can’t. One of those trust companies is taking care of it. + </p> + <p> + Now, as this is probably the last time that I shall be out after nightfall + this winter, I must say that I have come here with a mission, and I would + make my errand of value. + </p> + <p> + Many compliments have been paid to Mr. Carnegie to-night. I was expecting + them. They are very gratifying to me. + </p> + <p> + I have been a guest of honor myself, and I know what Mr. Carnegie is + experiencing now. It is embarrassing to get compliments and compliments + and only compliments, particularly when he knows as well as the rest of us + that on the other side of him there are all sorts of things worthy of our + condemnation. + </p> + <p> + Just look at Mr. Carnegie’s face. It is fairly scintillating with + fictitious innocence. You would think, looking at him, that he had never + committed a crime in his life. But no—look at his pestiferious + simplified spelling. You can’t any of you imagine what a crime that has + been. Torquemada was nothing to Mr. Carnegie. That old fellow shed some + blood in the Inquisition, but Mr. Carnegie has brought destruction to the + entire race. I know he didn’t mean it to be a crime, but it was, just the + same. He’s got us all so we can’t spell anything. + </p> + <p> + The trouble with him is that he attacked orthography at the wrong end. He + meant well, but he attacked the symptoms and not the cause of the + disease. He ought to have gone to work on the alphabet. There’s not a + vowel in it with a definite value, and not a consonant that you can hitch + anything to. Look at the “h’s” distributed all around. There’s “gherkin.” + What are you going to do with the “h” in that? What the devil’s the use of + “h” in gherkin, I’d like to know. It’s one thing I admire the English for: + they just don’t mind anything about them at all. + </p> + <p> + But look at the “pneumatics” and the “pneumonias” and the rest of them. A + real reform would settle them once and for all, and wind up by giving us + an alphabet that we wouldn’t have to spell with at all, instead of this + present silly alphabet, which I fancy was invented by a drunken thief. + Why, there isn’t a man who doesn’t have to throw out about fifteen hundred + words a day when he writes his letters because he can’t spell them! It’s + like trying to do a St. Vitus’s dance with wooden legs. + </p> + <p> + Now I’ll bet there isn’t a man here who can spell “pterodactyl,” not even + the prisoner at the bar. I’d like to hear him try once—but not in + public, for it’s too near Sunday, when all extravagant histrionic + entertainments are barred. I’d like to hear him try in private, and when + he got through trying to spell “pterodactyl” you wouldn’t know whether it + was a fish or a beast or a bird, and whether it flew on its legs or walked + with its wings. The chances are that he would give it tusks and make it + lay eggs. + </p> + <p> + Let’s get Mr. Carnegie to reform the alphabet, and we’ll pray for him—if + he’ll take the risk. If we had adequate, competent vowels, with a system + of accents, giving to each vowel its own soul and value, so every shade of + that vowel would be shown in its accent, there is not a word in any tongue + that we could not spell accurately. That would be competent, adequate, + simplified spelling, in contrast to the clipping, the hair punching, the + carbuncles, and the cancers which go by the name of simplified spelling. + If I ask you what b-o-w spells you can’t tell me unless you know which + b-o-w I mean, and it is the same with r-o-w, b-o-r-e, and the whole family + of words which were born out of lawful wedlock and don’t know their own + origin. + </p> + <p> + Now, if we had an alphabet that was adequate and competent, instead of + inadequate and incompetent, things would be different. Spelling reform has + only made it bald-headed and unsightly. There is the whole tribe of them, + “row” and “read” and “lead”—a whole family who don’t know who they + are. I ask you to pronounce s-o-w, and you ask me what kind of a one. + </p> + <p> + If we had a sane, determinate alphabet, instead of a hospital of + comminuted eunuchs, you would know whether one referred to the act of a + man casting the seed over the ploughed land or whether one wished to + recall the lady hog and the future ham. + </p> + <p> + It’s a rotten alphabet. I appoint Mr. Carnegie to get after it, and leave + simplified spelling alone. + </p> + <p> + Simplified spelling brought about sun-spots, the San Francisco earthquake, + and the recent business depression, which we would never have had if + spelling had been left all alone. + </p> + <p> + Now, I hope I have soothed Mr. Carnegie and made him more comfortable than + he would have been had he received only compliment after compliment, and I + wish to say to him that simplified spelling is all right, but, like + chastity, you can carry it too far. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0056" id="link2H_4_0056"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SPELLING AND PICTURES + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE ANNUAL DINNER OF THE ASSOCIATED PRESS, AT THE + WALDORF-ASTORIA, SEPTEMBER 18, 1906 +</pre> + <p> + I am here to make an appeal to the nations in behalf of the simplified + spelling. I have come here because they cannot all be reached except + through you. There are only two forces that can carry light to all the + corners of the globe—only two—the sun in the heavens and the + Associated Press down here. I may seem to be flattering the sun, but I do + not mean it so; I am meaning only to be just and fair all around. You + speak with a million voices; no one can reach so many races, so many + hearts and intellects, as you—except Rudyard Kipling, and he cannot + do it without your help. If the Associated Press will adopt and use our + simplified forms, and thus spread them to the ends of the earth, covering + the whole spacious planet with them as with a garden of flowers, our + difficulties are at an end. + </p> + <p> + Every day of the three hundred and sixty-five the only pages of the + world’s countless newspapers that are read by all the human beings and + angels and devils that can read, are these pages that are built out of + Associated Press despatches. And so I beg you, I beseech you—oh, I + implore you to spell them in our simplified forms. Do this daily, + constantly, persistently, for three months—only three months—it + is all I ask. The infallible result?—victory, victory all down the + line. For by that time all eyes here and above and below will have become + adjusted to the change and in love with it, and the present clumsy and + ragged forms will be grotesque to the eye and revolting to the soul. And + we shall be rid of phthisis and phthisic and pneumonia and pneumatics, and + diphtheria and pterodactyl, and all those other insane words which no man + addicted to the simple Christian life can try to spell and not lose some + of the bloom of his piety in the demoralizing attempt. Do not doubt it. We + are chameleons, and our partialities and prejudices change places with an + easy and blessed facility, and we are soon wonted to the change and happy + in it. We do not regret our old, yellow fangs and snags and tushes after + we have worn nice, fresh, uniform store teeth a while. + </p> + <p> + Do I seem to be seeking the good of the world? That is the idea. It is my + public attitude; privately I am merely seeking my own profit. We all do + it, but it is sound and it is virtuous, for no public interest is anything + other or nobler than a massed accumulation of private interests. In 1883, + when the simplified-spelling movement first tried to make a noise, I was + indifferent to it; more—I even irreverently scoffed at it. What I + needed was an object-lesson, you see. It is the only way to teach some + people. Very well, I got it. At that time I was scrambling along, earning + the family’s bread on magazine work at seven cents a word, compound words + at single rates, just as it is in the dark present. I was the property of + a magazine, a seven-cent slave under a boiler-iron contract. One day there + came a note from the editor requiring me to write ten pages—on this + revolting text: “Considerations concerning the alleged subterranean + holophotal extemporaneousness of the conchyliaceous superimbrication of + the Ornithorhyncus, as foreshadowed by the unintelligibility of its + plesiosaurian anisodactylous aspects.” + </p> + <p> + Ten pages of that. Each and every word a seventeen-jointed vestibuled + railroad train. Seven cents a word. I saw starvation staring the family in + the face. I went to the editor, and I took a stenographer along so as to + have the interview down in black and white, for no magazine editor can + ever remember any part of a business talk except the part that’s got graft + in it for him and the magazine. I said, “Read that text, Jackson, and let + it go on the record; read it out loud.” He read it: “Considerations + concerning the alleged subterranean holophotal extemporaneousness of the + conchyliaceous superimbrication of the Ornithorhyncus, as foreshadowed by + the unintelligibility of its plesiosaurian anisodactylous aspects.” + </p> + <p> + I said, “You want ten pages of those rumbling, great, long, summer + thunderpeals, and you expect to get them at seven cents a peal?” + </p> + <p> + He said, “A word’s a word, and seven cents is the contract; what are you + going to do about it?” + </p> + <p> + I said, “Jackson, this is cold-blooded oppression. What’s an average + English word?” + </p> + <p> + He said, “Six letters.” + </p> + <p> + I said, “Nothing of the kind; that’s French, and includes the spaces + between the words; an average English word is four letters and a half. By + hard, honest labor I’ve dug all the large words out of my vocabulary and + shaved it down till the average is three letters and a half. I can put one + thousand and two hundred words on your page, and there’s not another man + alive that can come within two hundred of it. My page is worth eighty-four + dollars to me. It takes exactly as long to fill your magazine page with + long words as it does with short ones-four hours. Now, then, look at the + criminal injustice of this requirement of yours. I am careful, I am + economical of my time and labor. For the family’s sake I’ve got to be so. + So I never write ‘metropolis’ for seven cents, because I can get the same + money for ‘city.’ I never write ‘policeman,’ because I can get the same + price for ‘cop.’ And so on and so on. I never write ‘valetudinarian’ at + all, for not even hunger and wretchedness can humble me to the point where + I will do a word like that for seven cents; I wouldn’t do it for fifteen. + Examine your obscene text, please; count the words.” + </p> + <p> + He counted and said it was twenty-four. I asked him to count the letters. + He made it two hundred and three. + </p> + <p> + I said, “Now, I hope you see the whole size of your crime. With my + vocabulary I would make sixty words out of those two hundred and five + letters, and get four dollars and twenty cents for it; whereas for your + inhuman twenty-four I would get only one dollar and sixty-eight cents. Ten + pages of these sky-scrapers of yours would pay me only about three hundred + dollars; in my simplified vocabulary the same space and the same labor + would pay me eight hundred and forty dollars. I do not wish to work upon + this scandalous job by the piece. I want to be hired by the year.” He + coldly refused. I said: + </p> + <p> + “Then for the sake of the family, if you have no feeling for me, you ought + at least to allow me overtime on that word extemporaneousness.” Again he + coldly refused. I seldom say a harsh word to any one, but I was not master + of myself then, and I spoke right out and called him an anisodactylous + plesiosaurian conchyliaceous Ornithorhyncus, and rotten to the heart with + holoaophotal subterranean extemporaneousness. God forgive me for that + wanton crime; he lived only two hours. + </p> + <p> + From that day to this I have been a devoted and hard-working member of the + heaven-born institution, the International Association for the Prevention + of Cruelty to Authors, and now I am laboring with Carnegie’s Simplified + Committee, and with my heart in the work.... + </p> + <p> + Now then, let us look at this mighty question reasonably, rationally, + sanely—yes, and calmly, not excitedly. What is the real function, + the essential function, the supreme function, of language? Isn’t it merely + to convey ideas and emotions? Certainly. Then if we can do it with words + of fonetic brevity and compactness, why keep the present cumbersome forms? + But can we? Yes. I hold in my hand the proof of it. Here is a letter + written by a woman, right out of her heart of hearts. I think she never + saw a spelling-book in her life. The spelling is her own. There isn’t a + waste letter in it anywhere. It reduces the fonetics to the last gasp—it + squeezes the surplusage out of every word—there’s no spelling that + can begin with it on this planet outside of the White House. And as for + the punctuation, there isn’t any. It is all one sentence, eagerly and + breathlessly uttered, without break or pause in it anywhere. The letter is + absolutely genuine—I have the proofs of that in my possession. I + can’t stop to spell the words for you, but you can take the letter + presently and comfort your eyes with it. I will read the letter: + </p> + <p> + “Miss dear freind I took some Close into the armerry and give them to you + to Send too the suffrers out to California and i Hate to treble you but i + got to have one of them Back it was a black oll wolle Shevyott With a + jacket to Mach trimed Kind of Fancy no 38 Burst measure and palsy menterry + acrost the front And the color i woodent Trubble you but it belonged to my + brothers wife and she is Mad about it i thoght she was willin but she want + she says she want done with it and she was going to Wear it a Spell longer + she ant so free harted as what i am and she Has got more to do with Than i + have having a Husband to Work and slave For her i gels you remember Me I + am shot and stout and light complected i torked with you quite a spell + about the suffrars and said it was orful about that erth quake I shoodent + wondar if they had another one rite off seeine general Condision of the + country is Kind of Explossive i hate to take that Black dress away from + the suffrars but i will hunt round And see if i can get another One if i + can i will call to the armerry for it if you will jest lay it asside so no + more at present from your True freind + </p> + <p> + “i liked your appearance very Much” + </p> + <p> + Now you see what simplified spelling can do. + </p> + <p> + It can convey any fact you need to convey; and it can pour out emotions + like a sewer. I beg you, I beseech you, to adopt our spelling, and print + all your despatches in it. + </p> + <p> + Now I wish to say just one entirely serious word: + </p> + <p> + I have reached a time of life, seventy years and a half, where none of the + concerns of this world have much interest for me personally. I think I can + speak dispassionately upon this matter, because in the little while that I + have got to remain here I can get along very well with these old-fashioned + forms, and I don’t propose to make any trouble about it at all. I shall + soon be where they won’t care how I spell so long as I keep the Sabbath. + </p> + <p> + There are eighty-two millions of us people that use this orthography, and + it ought to be simplified in our behalf, but it is kept in its present + condition to satisfy one million people who like to have their literature + in the old form. That looks to me to be rather selfish, and we keep the + forms as they are while we have got one million people coming in here from + foreign countries every year and they have got to struggle with this + orthography of ours, and it keeps them back and damages their citizenship + for years until they learn to spell the language, if they ever do learn. + This is merely sentimental argument. + </p> + <p> + People say it is the spelling of Chaucer and Spencer and Shakespeare and a + lot of other people who do not know how to spell anyway, and it has been + transmitted to us and we preserved it and wish to preserve it because of + its ancient and hallowed associations. + </p> + <p> + Now, I don’t see that there is any real argument about that. If that + argument is good, then it would be a good argument not to banish the flies + and the cockroaches from hospitals because they have been there so long + that the patients have got used to them and they feel a tenderness for + them on account of the associations. Why, it is like preserving a cancer + in a family because it is a family cancer, and we are bound to it by the + test of affection and reverence and old, mouldy antiquity. + </p> + <p> + I think that this declaration to improve this orthography of ours is our + family cancer, and I wish we could reconcile ourselves to have it cut out + and let the family cancer go. + </p> + <p> + Now, you see before you the wreck and ruin of what was once a young person + like yourselves. I am exhausted by the heat of the day. I must take what + is left of this wreck and run out of your presence and carry it away to my + home and spread it out there and sleep the sleep of the righteous. There + is nothing much left of me but my age and my righteousness, but I leave + with you my love and my blessing, and may you always keep your youth. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0057" id="link2H_4_0057"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOKS AND BURGLARS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS TO THE REDDING (CONN.) LIBRARY ASSOCIATION, + OCTOBER 28, 1908 +</pre> + <p> + Suppose this library had been in operation a few weeks ago, and the + burglars who happened along and broke into my house—taking a lot of + things they didn’t need, and for that matter which I didn’t need—had + first made entry into this institution. + </p> + <p> + Picture them seated here on the floor, poring by the light of their + dark-lanterns over some of the books they found, and thus absorbing moral + truths and getting a moral uplift. The whole course of their lives would + have been changed. As it was, they kept straight on in their immoral way + and were sent to jail. + </p> + <p> + For all we know, they may next be sent to Congress. + </p> + <p> + And, speaking of burglars, let us not speak of them too harshly. Now, I + have known so many burglars—not exactly known, but so many of them + have come near me in my various dwelling-places, that I am disposed to + allow them credit for whatever good qualities they possess. + </p> + <p> + Chief among these, and, indeed, the only one I just now think of, is their + great care while doing business to avoid disturbing people’s sleep. + </p> + <p> + Noiseless as they may be while at work, however, the effect of their + visitation is to murder sleep later on. + </p> + <p> + Now we are prepared for these visitors. All sorts of alarm devices have + been put in the house, and the ground for half a mile around it has been + electrified. The burglar who steps within this danger zone will set loose + a bedlam of sounds, and spring into readiness for action our elaborate + system of defences. As for the fate of the trespasser, do not seek to know + that. He will never be heard of more. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0058" id="link2H_4_0058"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + AUTHORS’ CLUB + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE DINNER GIVEN IN HONOR OF MR. CLEMENS, LONDON, + JUNE, 1899 + + Mr. Clemens was introduced by Sir Walter Besant. +</pre> + <p> + It does not embarrass me to hear my books praised so much. It only pleases + and delights me. I have not gone beyond the age when embarrassment is + possible, but I have reached the age when I know how to conceal it. It is + such a satisfaction to me to hear Sir Walter Besant, who is much more + capable than I to judge of my work, deliver a judgment which is such a + contentment to my spirit. + </p> + <p> + Well, I have thought well of the books myself, but I think more of them + now. It charms me also to hear Sir Spencer Walpole deliver a similar + judgment, and I shall treasure his remarks also. I shall not discount the + praises in any possible way. When I report them to my family they shall + lose nothing. There are, however, certain heredities which come down to us + which our writings of the present day may be traced to. I, for instance, + read the Walpole Letters when I was a boy. I absorbed them, gathered in + their grace, wit, and humor, and put them away to be used by-and-by. One + does that so unconsciously with things one really likes. I am reminded now + of what use those letters have been to me. + </p> + <p> + They must not claim credit in America for what was really written in + another form so long ago. They must only claim that I trimmed this, that, + and the other, and so changed their appearance as to make them seem to be + original. You now see what modesty I have in stock. But it has taken long + practice to get it there. + </p> + <p> + But I must not stand here talking. I merely meant to get up and give my + thanks for the pleasant things that preceding speakers have said of me. I + wish also to extend my thanks to the Authors’ Club for constituting me a + member, at a reasonable price per year, and for giving me the benefit of + your legal adviser. + </p> + <p> + I believe you keep a lawyer. I have always kept a lawyer, too, though I + have never made anything out of him. It is service to an author to have a + lawyer. There is something so disagreeable in having a personal contact + with a publisher. So it is better to work through a lawyer—and lose + your case. I understand that the publishers have been meeting together + also like us. I don’t know what for, but possibly they are devising new + and mysterious ways for remunerating authors. I only wish now to thank you + for electing me a member of this club—I believe I have paid my dues—and + to thank you again for the pleasant things you have said of me. + </p> + <p> + Last February, when Rudyard Kipling was ill in America, the sympathy which + was poured out to him was genuine and sincere, and I believe that which + cost Kipling so much will bring England and America closer together. I + have been proud and pleased to see this growing affection and respect + between the two countries. I hope it will continue to grow, and, please + God, it will continue to grow. I trust we authors will leave to posterity, + if we have nothing else to leave, a friendship between England and America + that will count for much. I will now confess that I have been engaged for + the past eight days in compiling a publication. I have brought it here to + lay at your feet. I do not ask your indulgence in presenting it, but for + your applause. + </p> + <p> + Here it is: “Since England and America may be joined together in Kipling, + may they not be severed in ‘Twain.’” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0059" id="link2H_4_0059"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOKSELLERS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Address at banquet on Wednesday evening, May 20, 1908, of the + American Booksellers’ Association, which included most of the + leading booksellers of America, held at the rooms of the Aldine + Association, New York. +</pre> + <p> + This annual gathering of booksellers from all over America comes together + ostensibly to eat and drink, but really to discuss business; therefore I + am required to talk shop. I am required to furnish a statement of the + indebtedness under which I lie to you gentlemen for your help in enabling + me to earn my living. For something over forty years I have acquired my + bread by print, beginning with The Innocents Abroad, followed at intervals + of a year or so by Roughing It, Tom Sawyer, Gilded Age, and so on. For + thirty-six years my books were sold by subscription. You are not + interested in those years, but only in the four which have since followed. + The books passed into the hands of my present publishers at the beginning + of 1900, and you then became the providers of my diet. I think I may say, + without flattering you, that you have done exceedingly well by me. + Exceedingly well is not too strong a phrase, since the official statistics + show that in four years you have sold twice as many volumes of my + venerable books as my contract with my publishers bound you and them to + sell in five years. To your sorrow you are aware that frequently, much too + frequently, when a book gets to be five or ten years old its annual sale + shrinks to two or three hundred copies, and after an added ten or twenty + years ceases to sell. But you sell thousands of my moss-backed old books + every year—the youngest of them being books that range from fifteen + to twenty-seven years old, and the oldest reaching back to thirty-five and + forty. + </p> + <p> + By the terms of my contract my publishers had to account to me for 50,000 + volumes per year for five years, and pay me for them whether they sold + them or not. It is at this point that you gentlemen come in, for it was + your business to unload 250,000 volumes upon the public in five years if + you possibly could. Have you succeeded? Yes, you have—and more. For + in four years, with a year still to spare, you have sold the 250,000 + volumes, and 240,000 besides. + </p> + <p> + Your sales have increased each year. In the first year you sold 90,328; in + the second year, 104,851; in the third, 133,975; in the fourth year—which + was last year—you sold 160,000. The aggregate for the four years is + 500,000 volumes, lacking 11,000. + </p> + <p> + Of the oldest book, The Innocents Abroad,—now forty years old—you + sold upward of 46,000 copies in the four years; of Roughing It—now + thirty-eight years old, I think—you sold 40,334; of Tom Sawyer, + 41,000. And so on. + </p> + <p> + And there is one thing that is peculiarly gratifying to me: the Personal + Recollections of Joan of Arc is a serious book; I wrote it for love, and + never expected it to sell, but you have pleasantly disappointed me in that + matter. In your hands its sale has increased each year. In 1904 you sold + 1726 copies; in 1905, 2445; in 1906, 5381; and last year, 6574. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0060" id="link2H_4_0060"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + “MARK TWAIN’S FIRST APPEARANCE” + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + On October 5, 1906, Mr. Clemens, following a musical recital by + his daughter in Norfolk, Conn., addressed her audience on the + subject of stage-fright. He thanked the people for making + things as easy as possible for his daughter’s American debut as + a contralto, and then told of his first experience before the + public. +</pre> + <p> + My heart goes out in sympathy to any one who is making his first + appearance before an audience of human beings. By a direct process of + memory I go back forty years, less one month—for I’m older than I + look. + </p> + <p> + I recall the occasion of my first appearance. San Francisco knew me then + only as a reporter, and I was to make my bow to San Francisco as a + lecturer. I knew that nothing short of compulsion would get me to the + theatre. So I bound myself by a hard-and-fast contract so that I could not + escape. I got to the theatre forty-five minutes before the hour set for + the lecture. My knees were shaking so that I didn’t know whether I could + stand up. If there is an awful, horrible malady in the world, it is + stage-fright-and seasickness. They are a pair. I had stage-fright then for + the first and last time. I was only seasick once, too. It was on a little + ship on which there were two hundred other passengers. I—was—sick. + I was so sick that there wasn’t any left for those other two hundred + passengers. + </p> + <p> + It was dark and lonely behind the scenes in that theatre, and I peeked + through the little peekholes they have in theatre curtains and looked into + the big auditorium. That was dark and empty, too. By-and-by it lighted up, + and the audience began to arrive. + </p> + <p> + I had got a number of friends of mine, stalwart men, to sprinkle + themselves through the audience armed with big clubs. Every time I said + anything they could possibly guess I intended to be funny they were to + pound those clubs on the floor. Then there was a kind lady in a box up + there, also a good friend of mine, the wife of the Governor. She was to + watch me intently, and whenever I glanced toward her she was going to + deliver a gubernatorial laugh that would lead the whole audience into + applause. + </p> + <p> + At last I began. I had the manuscript tucked under a United States flag in + front of me where I could get at it in case of need. But I managed to get + started without it. I walked up and down—I was young in those days + and needed the exercise—and talked and talked. + </p> + <p> + Right in the middle of the speech I had placed a gem. I had put in a + moving, pathetic part which was to get at the hearts and souls of my + hearers. When I delivered it they did just what I hoped and expected. They + sat silent and awed. I had touched them. Then I happened to glance up at + the box where the Governor’s wife was—you know what happened. + </p> + <p> + Well, after the first agonizing five minutes, my stage-fright left me, + never to return. I know if I was going to be hanged I could get up and + make a good showing, and I intend to. But I shall never forget my feelings + before the agony left me, and I got up here to thank you for her for + helping my daughter, by your kindness, to live through her first + appearance. And I want to thank you for your appreciation of her singing, + which is, by-the-way, hereditary. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0061" id="link2H_4_0061"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MORALS AND MEMORY + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Mr. Clemens was the guest of honor at a reception held at + Barnard College (Columbia University), March 7, 1906, by the + Barnard Union. One of the young ladies presented Mr. Clemens, + and thanked him for his amiability in coming to make them an + address. She closed with the expression of the great joy it + gave her fellow-collegians, “because we all love you.” + </pre> + <p> + If any one here loves me, she has my sincere thanks. Nay, if any one here + is so good as to love me—why, I’ll be a brother to her. She shall + have my sincere, warm, unsullied affection. When I was coming up in the + car with the very kind young lady who was delegated to show me the way, + she asked me what I was going to talk about. And I said I wasn’t sure. I + said I had some illustrations, and I was going to bring them in. I said I + was certain to give those illustrations, but that I hadn’t the faintest + notion what they were going to illustrate. + </p> + <p> + Now, I’ve been thinking it over in this forest glade [indicating the woods + of Arcady on the scene setting], and I’ve decided to work them in with + something about morals and the caprices of memory. That seems to me to be + a pretty good subject. You see, everybody has a memory and it’s pretty + sure to have caprices. And, of course, everybody has morals. + </p> + <p> + It’s my opinion that every one I know has morals, though I wouldn’t like + to ask. I know I have. But I’d rather teach them than practice them any + day. “Give them to others”—that’s my motto. Then you never have any + use for them when you’re left without. Now, speaking of the caprices of + memory in general, and of mine in particular, it’s strange to think of all + the tricks this little mental process plays on us. Here we’re endowed with + a faculty of mind that ought to be more supremely serviceable to us than + them all. And what happens? This memory of ours stores up a perfect record + of the most useless facts and anecdotes and experiences. And all the + things that we ought to know—that we need to know—that we’d + profit by knowing—it casts aside with the careless indifference of a + girl refusing her true lover. It’s terrible to think of this phenomenon. I + tremble in all my members when I consider all the really valuable things + that I’ve forgotten in seventy years—when I meditate upon the + caprices of my memory. + </p> + <p> + There’s a bird out in California that is one perfect symbol of the human + memory. I’ve forgotten the bird’s name (just because it would be valuable + for me to know it—to recall it to your own minds, perhaps). + </p> + <p> + But this fool of a creature goes around collecting the most ridiculous + things you can imagine and storing them up. He never selects a thing that + could ever prove of the slightest help to him; but he goes about gathering + iron forks, and spoons, and tin cans, and broken mouse-traps—all + sorts of rubbish that is difficult for him to carry and yet be any use + when he gets it. Why, that bird will go by a gold watch to bring back one + of those patent cake-pans. + </p> + <p> + Now, my mind is just like that, and my mind isn’t very different from + yours—and so our minds are just like that bird. We pass by what + would be of inestimable value to us, and pack our memories with the most + trivial odds and ends that never by any chance, under any circumstances + whatsoever, could be of the slightest use to any one. + </p> + <p> + Now, things that I have remembered are constantly popping into my head. + And I am repeatedly startled by the vividness with which they recur to me + after the lapse of years and their utter uselessness in being remembered + at all. + </p> + <p> + I was thinking over some on my way up here. They were the illustrations I + spoke about to the young lady on the way up. And I’ve come to the + conclusion, curious though it is, that I can use every one of these freaks + of memory to teach you all a lesson. I’m convinced that each one has its + moral. And I think it’s my duty to hand the moral on to you. + </p> + <p> + Now, I recall that when I was a boy I was a good boy—I was a very + good boy. Why, I was the best boy in my school. I was the best boy in that + little Mississippi town where I lived. The population was only about + twenty million. You may not believe it, but I was the best boy in that + State—and in the United States, for that matter. + </p> + <p> + But I don’t know why I never heard any one say that but myself. I always + recognized it. But even those nearest and dearest to me couldn’t seem to + see it. My mother, especially, seemed to think there was something wrong + with that estimate. And she never got over that prejudice. + </p> + <p> + Now, when my mother got to be eighty-five years old her memory failed her. + She forgot little threads that hold life’s patches of meaning together. + She was living out West then, and I went on to visit her. + </p> + <p> + I hadn’t seen my mother in a year or so. And when I got there she knew my + face; knew I was married; knew I had a family, and that I was living with + them. But she couldn’t, for the life of her, tell my name or who I was. So + I told her I was her boy. + </p> + <p> + “But you don’t live with me,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said I, “I’m living in Rochester.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing there?” + </p> + <p> + “Going to school.” + </p> + <p> + “Large school?” + </p> + <p> + “Very large.” + </p> + <p> + “All boys?” + </p> + <p> + “All boys.” + </p> + <p> + “And how do you stand?” said my mother. + </p> + <p> + “I’m the best boy in that school,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said my mother, with a return of her old fire, “I’d like to know + what the other boys are like.” + </p> + <p> + Now, one point in this story is the fact that my mother’s mind went back + to my school days, and remembered my little youthful self-prejudice when + she’d forgotten everything else about me. + </p> + <p> + The other point is the moral. There’s one there that you will find if you + search for it. + </p> + <p> + Now, here’s something else I remember. It’s about the first time I ever + stole a watermelon. “Stole” is a strong word. Stole? Stole? No, I don’t + mean that. It was the first time I ever withdrew a watermelon. It was the + first time I ever extracted a watermelon. That is exactly the word I want—“extracted.” + It is definite. It is precise. It perfectly conveys my idea. Its use in + dentistry connotes the delicate shade of meaning I am looking for. You + know we never extract our own teeth. + </p> + <p> + And it was not my watermelon that I extracted. I extracted that watermelon + from a farmer’s wagon while he was inside negotiating with another + customer. I carried that watermelon to one of the secluded recesses of the + lumber-yard, and there I broke it open. + </p> + <p> + It was a green watermelon. + </p> + <p> + Well, do you know when I saw that I began to feel sorry—sorry—sorry. + It seemed to me that I had done wrong. I reflected deeply. I reflected + that I was young—I think I was just eleven. But I knew that though + immature I did not lack moral advancement. I knew what a boy ought to do + who had extracted a watermelon—like that. + </p> + <p> + I considered George Washington, and what action he would have taken under + similar circumstances. Then I knew there was just one thing to make me + feel right inside, and that was—Restitution. + </p> + <p> + So I said to myself: “I will do that. I will take that green watermelon + back where I got it from.” And the minute I had said it I felt that great + moral uplift that comes to you when you’ve made a noble resolution. + </p> + <p> + So I gathered up the biggest fragments, and I carried them back to the + farmer’s wagon, and I restored the watermelon—what was left of it. + And I made him give me a good one in place of it, too. + </p> + <p> + And I told him he ought to be ashamed of himself going around working off + his worthless, old, green watermelons on trusting purchasers who had to + rely on him. How could they tell from the outside whether the melons were + good or not? That was his business. And if he didn’t reform, I told him + I’d see that he didn’t get any more of my trade—nor anybody else’s + I knew, if I could help it. + </p> + <p> + You know that man was as contrite as a revivalist’s last convert. He said + he was all broken up to think I’d gotten a green watermelon. He promised + that he would never carry another green watermelon if he starved for it. + And he drove off—a better man. + </p> + <p> + Now, do you see what I did for that man? He was on a downward path, and I + rescued him. But all I got out of it was a watermelon. + </p> + <p> + Yet I’d rather have that memory—just that memory of the good I did + for that depraved farmer—than all the material gain you can think + of. Look at the lesson he got! I never got anything like that from it. But + I ought to be satisfied: I was only eleven years old, but I secured + everlasting benefit to other people. + </p> + <p> + The moral in this is perfectly clear, and I think there’s one in the next + memory I’m going to tell you about. + </p> + <p> + To go back to my childhood, there’s another little incident that comes to + me from which you can draw even another moral. It’s about one of the times + I went fishing. You see, in our house there was a sort of family prejudice + against going fishing if you hadn’t permission. But it would frequently be + bad judgment to ask. So I went fishing secretly, as it were—way up + the Mississippi. It was an exquisitely happy trip, I recall, with a very + pleasant sensation. + </p> + <p> + Well, while I was away there was a tragedy in our town. A stranger, + stopping over on his way East from California; was stabbed to death in an + unseemly brawl. + </p> + <p> + Now, my father was justice of the peace, and because he was justice of the + peace he was coroner; and since he was coroner he was also constable; and + being constable he was sheriff; and out of consideration for his holding + the office of sheriff he was likewise county clerk and a dozen other + officials I don’t think of just this minute. + </p> + <p> + I thought he had power of life or death, only he didn’t use it over other + boys. He was sort of an austere man. Somehow I didn’t like being round him + when I’d done anything he disapproved of. So that’s the reason I wasn’t + often around. + </p> + <p> + Well, when this gentleman got knifed they communicated with the proper + authority, the coroner, and they laid the corpse out in the coroner’s + office—our front sitting-room—in preparation for the inquest + the next morning. + </p> + <p> + About 9 or 10 o’clock I got back from fishing. It was a little too late + for me to be received by my folks, so I took my shoes off and slipped + noiselessly up the back way to the sitting-room. I was very tired, and I + didn’t wish to disturb my people. So I groped my way to the sofa and lay + down. + </p> + <p> + Now, I didn’t know anything of what had happened during my absence. But I + was sort of nervous on my own account-afraid of being caught, and rather + dubious about the morning affair. And I had been lying there a few moments + when my eyes gradually got used to the darkness, and I became aware of + something on the other side of the room. + </p> + <p> + It was something foreign to the apartment. It had an uncanny appearance. + And I sat up looking very hard, and wondering what in heaven this long, + formless, vicious-looking thing might be. + </p> + <p> + First I thought I’d go and see. Then I thought, “Never mind that.” + </p> + <p> + Mind you, I had no cowardly sensations whatever, but it didn’t seem + exactly prudent to investigate. But I somehow couldn’t keep my eyes off + the thing. And the more I looked at it the more disagreeably it grew on + me. But I was resolved to play the man. So I decided to turn over and + count a hundred, and let the patch of moonlight creep up and show me what + the dickens it was. + </p> + <p> + I turned over and tried to count, but I couldn’t keep my mind on it. I + kept thinking of that grewsome mass. I was losing count all the time, and + going back and beginning over again. Oh no; I wasn’t frightened—just + annoyed. But by the time I’d gotten to the century mark I turned + cautiously over and opened my eyes with great fortitude. + </p> + <p> + The moonlight revealed to me a marble-white human hand. Well, maybe I + wasn’t embarrassed! But then that changed to a creepy feeling again, and I + thought I’d try the counting again. I don’t know how many hours or weeks + it was that I lay there counting hard. But the moonlight crept up that + white arm, and it showed me a lead face and a terrible wound over the + heart. + </p> + <p> + I could scarcely say that I was terror-stricken or anything like that. But + somehow his eyes interested me so that I went right out of the window. I + didn’t need the sash. But it seemed easier to take it than leave it + behind. + </p> + <p> + Now, let that teach you a lesson—I don’t know just what it is. But + at seventy years old I find that memory of peculiar value to me. I have + been unconsciously guided by it all these years. Things that seemed + pigeon-holed and remote are a perpetual influence. Yes, you’re taught in + so many ways. And you’re so felicitously taught when you don’t know it. + </p> + <p> + Here’s something else that taught me a good deal. + </p> + <p> + When I was seventeen I was very bashful, and a sixteen-year-old girl came + to stay a week with us. She was a peach, and I was seized with a happiness + not of this world. + </p> + <p> + One evening my mother suggested that, to entertain her, I take her to the + theatre. I didn’t really like to, because I was seventeen and sensitive + about appearing in the streets with a girl. I couldn’t see my way to + enjoying my delight in public. But we went. + </p> + <p> + I didn’t feel very happy. I couldn’t seem to keep my mind on the play. I + became conscious, after a while, that that was due less to my lovely + company than my boots. They were sweet to look upon, as smooth as skin, + but fitted ten time as close. I got oblivious to the play and the girl and + the other people and everything but my boots until—I hitched one + partly off. The sensation was sensuously perfect: I couldn’t help it. I + had to get the other off, partly. Then I was obliged to get them off + altogether, except that I kept my feet in the legs so they couldn’t get + away. + </p> + <p> + From that time I enjoyed the play. But the first thing I knew the curtain + came down, like that, without my notice, and—I hadn’t any boots on. + What’s more, they wouldn’t go on. I tugged strenuously. And the people in + our row got up and fussed and said things until the peach and I simply had + to move on. + </p> + <p> + We moved—the girl on one arm and the boots under the other. + </p> + <p> + We walked home that way, sixteen blocks, with a retinue a mile long: Every + time we passed a lamp-post, death gripped me at the throat. But we got + home—and I had on white socks. + </p> + <p> + If I live to be nine hundred and ninety-nine years old I don’t suppose I + could ever forget that walk. I remember, it about as keenly as the + chagrin I suffered on another occasion. + </p> + <p> + At one time in our domestic history we had a colored butler who had a + failing. He could never remember to ask people who came to the door to + state their business. So I used to suffer a good many calls unnecessarily. + </p> + <p> + One morning when I was especially busy he brought me a card engraved with + a name I did not know. So I said, “What does he wish to see me for?” and + Sylvester said, “Ah couldn’t ask him, sah; he, wuz a genlinun.” “Return + instantly,” I thundered, “and inquire his mission. Ask him what’s his + game.” Well, Sylvester returned with the announcement that he had + lightning-rods to sell. “Indeed,” said I, “things are coming to a fine + pass when lightning-rod agents send up engraved cards.” “He has pictures,” + added Sylvester. “Pictures, indeed! He maybe peddling etchings. Has he a + Russia leather case?” But Sylvester was too frightened to remember. I + said; “I am going down to make it hot for that upstart!” + </p> + <p> + I went down the stairs, working up my temper all the way. When I got to + the parlor I was in a fine frenzy concealed beneath a veneer of frigid + courtesy. And when I looked in the door, sure enough he had a Russia + leather case in his hand. But I didn’t happen to notice that it was our + Russia leather case. + </p> + <p> + And if you’d believe me, that man was sitting with a whole gallery of + etchings spread out before him. But I didn’t happen to notice that they + were our etchings, spread out by some member of my family for some + unguessed purpose. + </p> + <p> + Very curtly I asked the gentleman his business. With a surprised, timid + manner he faltered that he had met my wife and daughter at Onteora, and + they had asked him to call. Fine lie, I thought, and I froze him. + </p> + <p> + He seemed to be kind of non-plussed, and sat there fingering the etchings + in the case until I told him he needn’t bother, because we had those. That + pleased him so much that he leaned over, in an embarrassed way, to pick up + another from the floor. But I stopped him. I said, “We’ve got that, too.” + He seemed pitifully amazed, but I was congratulating myself on my great + success. + </p> + <p> + Finally the gentleman asked where Mr. Winton lived; he’d met him in the + mountains, too. So I said I’d show him gladly. And I did on the spot. And + when he was gone I felt queer, because there were all his etchings spread + out on the floor. + </p> + <p> + Well, my wife came in and asked me who had been in. I showed her the card, + and told her all exultantly. To my dismay she nearly fainted. She told me + he had been a most kind friend to them in the country, and had forgotten + to tell me that he was expected our way. And she pushed me out of the + door, and commanded me to get over to the Wintons in a hurry and get him + back. + </p> + <p> + I came into the drawing-room, where Mrs. Winton was sitting up very stiff + in a chair, beating me at my own game. Well, I began to put another light + on things. Before many seconds Mrs. Winton saw it was time to change her + temperature. In five minutes I had asked the man to luncheon, and she to + dinner, and so on. + </p> + <p> + We made that fellow change his trip and stay a week, and we gave him the + time of his life. Why, I don’t believe we let him get sober the whole + time. + </p> + <p> + I trust that you will carry away some good thought from these lessons I + have given you, and that the memory of them will inspire you to higher + things, and elevate you to plans far above the old—and—and— + </p> + <p> + And I tell you one thing, young ladies: I’ve had a better time with you + to-day than with that peach fifty-three years ago. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0062" id="link2H_4_0062"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + QUEEN VICTORIA + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS TO THE BRITISH SCHOOLS AND UNIVERSITIES CLUB, AT + DELMONICO’S, MONDAY, MAY 25, 1908, IN HONOR OF QUEEN VICTORIA’S + BIRTHDAY + + Mr. Clemens told the story of his duel with a rival editor: how + he practised firing at a barn door and failed to hit it, but a + friend of his took off the head of a little bird at thirty-five + yards and attributed the shot to Mark twain. The duel did not + take place. Mr. Clemens continued as follows: +</pre> + <p> + It also happened that I was the means of stopping duelling in Nevada, for + a law was passed sending all duellists to jail for two years, and the + Governor, hearing of my marksmanship, said that if he got me I should go + to prison for the full term. That’s why I left Nevada, and I have not been + there since. + </p> + <p> + You do me a high honor, indeed, in selecting me to speak of my country in + this commemoration of the birthday of that noble lady whose life was + consecrated to the virtues and the humanities and to the promotion of + lofty ideals, and was a model upon which many a humbler life was formed + and made beautiful while she lived, and upon which many such lives will + still be formed in the generations that are to come—a life which + finds its just image in the star which falls out of its place in the sky + and out of existence, but whose light still streams with unfaded lustre + across the abysses of space long after its fires have been extinguished at + their source. + </p> + <p> + As a woman the Queen was all that the most exacting standards could + require. As a far-reaching and effective beneficent moral force she had no + peer in her time among either, monarchs or commoners. As a monarch she was + without reproach in her great office. We may not venture, perhaps, to say + so sweeping a thing as this in cold blood about any monarch that preceded + her upon either her own throne or upon any other. It is a colossal eulogy, + but it is justified. + </p> + <p> + In those qualities of the heart which beget affection in all sorts and + conditions of men she was rich, surprisingly rich, and for this she will + still be remembered and revered in the far-off ages when the political + glories of her reign shall have faded from vital history and fallen to a + place in that scrap-heap of unverifiable odds and ends which we call + tradition. Which is to say, in briefer phrase, that her name will live + always. And with it her character—a fame rare in the history of + thrones, dominions, principalities, and powers, since it will not rest + upon harvested selfish and sordid ambitions, but upon love, earned and + freely vouchsafed. She mended broken hearts where she could, but she broke + none. + </p> + <p> + What she did for us in America in our time of storm and stress we shall + not forget, and whenever we call it to mind we shall always remember the + wise and righteous mind that guided her in it and sustained and supported + her—Prince Albert’s. We need not talk any idle talk here to-night + about either possible or impossible war between the two countries; there + will be no war while we remain sane and the son of Victoria and Albert + sits upon the throne. In conclusion, I believe I may justly claim to utter + the voice of my country in saying that we hold him in deep honor, and also + in cordially wishing him a long life and a happy reign. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0063" id="link2H_4_0063"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + JOAN OF ARC + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE DINNER OF THE SOCIETY OF ILLUSTRATORS, GIVEN AT + THE ALDINE ASSOCIATION CLUB, DECEMBER 22, 1905 + + Just before Mr. Clemens made his speech, a young woman attired + as Joan of Arc, with a page bearing her flag of battle, + courtesied reverently and tendered Mr. Clemens a laurel wreath + on a satin pillow. He tried to speak, but his voice failed + from excess of emotion. “I thank you!” he finally exclaimed, + and, pulling himself together, he began his speech. +</pre> + <p> + Now there is an illustration [pointing to the retreating Joan of Arc]. + That is exactly what I wanted—precisely what I wanted—when I + was describing to myself Joan of Arc, after studying her history and her + character for twelve years diligently. + </p> + <p> + That was the product—not the conventional Joan of Arc. Wherever you + find the conventional Joan of Arc in history she is an offence to anybody + who knows the story of that wonderful girl. + </p> + <p> + Why, she was—she was almost supreme in several details. She had a + marvellous intellect; she had a great heart, had a noble spirit, was + absolutely pure in her character, her feeling, her language, her words, + her everything—she was only eighteen years old. + </p> + <p> + Now put that heart into such a breast—eighteen years old—and + give it that masterly intellect which showed in the face, and furnish it + with that almost god-like spirit, and what are you going to have? The + conventional Joan of Arc? Not by any means. That is impossible. I cannot + comprehend any such thing as that. + </p> + <p> + You must have a creature like that young and fair and beautiful girl we + just saw. And her spirit must look out of the eyes. The figure should be—the + figure should be in harmony with all that, but, oh, what we get in the + conventional picture, and it is always the conventional picture! + </p> + <p> + I hope you will allow me to say that your guild, when you take the + conventional, you have got it at second-hand. Certainly, if you had + studied and studied, then you might have something else as a result, but + when you have the common convention you stick to that. + </p> + <p> + You cannot prevail upon the artist to do it; he always gives you a Joan of + Arc—that lovely creature that started a great career at thirteen, + but whose greatness arrived when she was eighteen; and merely because she + was a girl he can not see the divinity in her, and so he paints a peasant, + a coarse and lubberly figure—the figure of a cotton-bale, and he + clothes that in the coarsest raiment of the peasant region just like a + fish woman, her hair cropped short like a Russian peasant, and that face + of hers, which should be beautiful and which should radiate all the + glories which are in the spirit and in her heart that expression in that + face is always just the fixed expression of a ham. + </p> + <p> + But now Mr. Beard has intimated a moment ago, and so has Sir Purdon-Clarke + also, that the artist, the illustrator, does not often get the idea of the + man whose book he is illustrating. Here is a very remarkable instance of + the other thing in Mr. Beard, who illustrated a book of mine. You may + never have heard of it. I will tell you about it now—A Yankee in + King Arthur’s Court. + </p> + <p> + Now, Beard got everything that I put into that book and a little more + besides. Those pictures of Beard’s in that book—oh, from the first + page to the last is one vast sardonic laugh at the trivialities, the + servilities of our poor human race, and also at the professions and the + insolence of priest-craft and king-craft—those creatures that make + slaves of themselves and have not the manliness to shake it off. Beard put + it all in that book. I meant it to be there. I put a lot of it there and + Beard put the rest. + </p> + <p> + That publisher of mine in Hartford had an eye for the pennies, and he + saved them. He did not waste any on the illustrations. He had a very good + artist—Williams—who had never taken a lesson in drawing. + Everything he did was original. The publisher hired the cheapest + wood-engraver he could find, and in my early books you can see a trace of + that. You can see that if Williams had had a chance he would have made + some very good pictures. He had a good heart and good intentions. + </p> + <p> + I had a character in the first book he illustrated—The Innocents + Abroad. That was a boy seventeen or eighteen years old—Jack Van + Nostrand—a New York boy, who, to my mind, was a very remarkable + creature. He and I tried to get Williams to understand that boy, and make + a picture of Jack that would be worthy of Jack. + </p> + <p> + Jack was a most singular combination. He was born and reared in New York + here. He was as delicate in his feelings, as clean and pure and refined in + his feelings as any lovely girl that ever was, but whenever he expressed a + feeling he did it in Bowery slang, and it was a most curious combination—that + delicacy of his and that apparent coarseness. There was no coarseness + inside of Jack at all, and Jack, in the course of seventeen or eighteen + years, had acquired a capital of ignorance that was marvellous—ignorance + of various things, not of all things. For instance, he did not know + anything about the Bible. He had never been in Sunday-school. Jack got + more out of the Holy Land than anybody else, because the others knew what + they were expecting, but it was a land of surprises to him. + </p> + <p> + I said in the book that we found him watching a turtle on a log, stoning + that turtle, and he was stoning that turtle because he had read that “The + song of the turtle was heard in the land,” and this turtle wouldn’t sing. + It sounded absurd, but it was charged on Jack as a fact, and as he went + along through that country he had a proper foil in an old rebel colonel, + who was superintendent and head engineer in a large Sunday-school in + Wheeling, West Virginia. That man was full of enthusiasm wherever he went, + and would stand and deliver himself of speeches, and Jack would listen to + those speeches of the colonel and wonder. + </p> + <p> + Jack had made a trip as a child almost across this continent in the first + overland stage-coach. That man’s name who ran that line of stages—well, + I declare that name is gone. Well, names will go. + </p> + <p> + Halliday—ah, that’s the name—Ben Halliday, your uncle [turning + to Mr. Carnegie]. That was the fellow—Ben Halliday—and Jack + was full of admiration at the prodigious speed that that line of stages + made—and it was good speed—one hundred and twenty-five miles a + day, going day and night, and it was the event of Jack’s life, and there + at the Fords of the Jordan the colonel was inspired to a speech (he was + always making a speech), so he called us up to him. He called up five + sinners and three saints. It has been only lately that Mr. Carnegie + beatified me. And he said: “Here are the Fords of the Jordan—a + monumental place. At this very point, when Moses brought the children of + Israel through—he brought the children of Israel from Egypt through + the desert you see there—he guarded them through that desert + patiently, patiently during forty years, and brought them to this spot + safe and sound. There you see—there is the scene of what Moses did.” + </p> + <p> + And Jack said: “Moses who?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” he says, “Jack, you ought not to ask that! Moses, the great + law-giver! Moses, the great patriot! Moses, the great warrior! Moses, the + great guide, who, as I tell you, brought these people through these three + hundred miles of sand in forty years, and landed them safe and sound.” + </p> + <p> + Jack said: “There’s nothin’ in that three hundred miles in forty years. + Ben Halliday would have snaked ’em through in thirty—six hours.” + </p> + <p> + Well, I was speaking of Jack’s innocence, and it was beautiful. Jack was + not ignorant on all subjects. That boy was a deep student in the history + of Anglo-Saxon liberty, and he was a patriot all the way through to the + marrow. There was a subject that interested him all the time. Other + subjects were of no concern to Jack, but that quaint, inscrutable + innocence of his I could not get Williams to put into the picture. + </p> + <p> + Yes, Williams wanted to do it. He said: “I will make him as innocent as a + virgin.” He thought a moment, and then said, “I will make him as innocent + as an unborn virgin;” which covered the ground. + </p> + <p> + I was reminded of Jack because I came across a letter to-day which is over + thirty years old that Jack wrote. Jack was doomed to consumption. He was + very long and slim, poor creature; and in a year or two after he got back + from that excursion, to the Holy Land he went on a ride on horseback + through Colorado, and he did not last but a year or two. + </p> + <p> + He wrote this letter, not to me, but to a friend of mine; and he said: “I + have ridden horseback”—this was three years after—“I have + ridden horseback four hundred miles through a desert country where you + never see anything but cattle now and then, and now and then a cattle + station—ten miles apart, twenty miles apart. Now you tell Clemens + that in all that stretch of four hundred miles I have seen only two books—the + Bible and ‘Innocents Abroad’. Tell Clemens the Bible was in a very good + condition.” + </p> + <p> + I say that he had studied, and he had, the real Saxon liberty, the + acquirement of our liberty, and Jack used to repeat some verses—I + don’t know where they came from, but I thought of them to-day when I saw + that letter—that that boy could have been talking of himself in + those quoted lines from that unknown poet: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “For he had sat at Sidney’s feet + And walked with him in plain apart, + And through the centuries heard the beat + Of Freedom’s march through Cromwell’s heart.” + </pre> + <p> + And he was that kind of a boy. He should have lived, and yet he should not + have lived, because he died at that early age—he couldn’t have been + more than twenty—he had seen all there was to see in the world that + was worth the trouble of living in it; he had seen all of this world that + is valuable; he had seen all of this world that was illusion, and + illusion, is the only valuable thing in it. He had arrived at that point + where presently the illusions would cease and he would have entered upon + the realities of life, and God help the man that has arrived at that + point. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0064" id="link2H_4_0064"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACCIDENT INSURANCE—ETC. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + DELIVERED IN HARTFORD, AT A DINNER TO CORNELIUS WALFORD, + OF LONDON +</pre> + <p> + GENTLEMEN,—I am glad, indeed, to assist in welcoming the + distinguished guest of this occasion to a city whose fame as an insurance + centre has extended to all lands, and given us the name of being a + quadruple band of brothers working sweetly hand in hand—the Colt’s + arms company making the destruction of our race easy and convenient, our + life-insurance citizens paying for the victims when they pass away, Mr. + Batterson perpetuating their memory with his stately monuments, and our + fire-insurance comrades taking care of their hereafter. I am glad to + assist in welcoming our guest—first, because he is an Englishman, + and I owe a heavy debt of hospitality to certain of his fellow-countrymen; + and secondly, because he is in sympathy with insurance, and has been the + means of making many other men cast their sympathies in the same + direction. + </p> + <p> + Certainly there is no nobler field for human effort than the insurance + line of business—especially accident insurance. Ever since I have + been a director in an accident-insurance company I have felt that I am a + better man. Life has seemed more precious. Accidents have assumed a + kindlier aspect. Distressing special providences have lost half their + horror. I look upon a cripple now with affectionate interest—as an + advertisement. I do not seem to care for poetry any more. I do not care + for politics—even agriculture does not excite me. But to me now + there is a charm about a railway collision that is unspeakable. + </p> + <p> + There is nothing more beneficent than accident insurance. I have seen an + entire family lifted out of poverty and into affluence by the simple boon + of a broken leg. I have had people come to me on crutches, with tears in + their eyes, to bless this beneficent institution. In all my experience of + life, I have seen nothing so seraphic as the look that comes into a + freshly mutilated man’s face when he feels in his vest pocket with his + remaining hand and finds his accident ticket all right. And I have seen + nothing so sad as the look that came into another splintered customer’s + face when he found he couldn’t collect on a wooden leg. + </p> + <p> + I will remark here, by way of advertisement, that that noble charity which + we have named the HARTFORD ACCIDENT INSURANCE COMPANY is an institution, + which is peculiarly to be depended upon. A man is bound to prosper who + gives it his custom. No man can take out a policy in it and not get + crippled before the year is out. Now there was one indigent man who had + been disappointed so often with other companies that he had grown + disheartened, his appetite left him, he ceased to smile—said life + was but a weariness. Three weeks ago I got him to insure with us, and now + he is the brightest, happiest spirit in this land—has a good steady + income and a stylish suit of new bandages every day, and travels around on + a shutter. + </p> + <p> + I will say in conclusion, that my share of the welcome to our guest is + none the less hearty because I talk so much nonsense, and I know that I + can say the same far the rest of the speakers. + </p> +<p> +(The speaker was a director of the company named.) +</p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0065" id="link2H_4_0065"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + OSTEOPATHY + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + On February 27, 1901, Mr. Clemens appeared before the Assembly + Committee in Albany, New York, in favor of the Seymour bill + legalizing the practice of osteopathy. +</pre> + <p> + MR. CHAIRMAN AND GENTLEMEN,—Dr. Van Fleet is the gentleman who gave + me the character. I have heard my character discussed a thousand times + before you were born, sir, and shown the iniquities in it, and you did not + get more than half of them. + </p> + <p> + I was touched and distressed when they brought that part of a child in + here, and proved that you cannot take a child to pieces in that way. What + remarkable names those diseases have! It makes me envious of the man that + has them all. I have had many diseases, and am thankful for all I have + had. + </p> + <p> + One of the gentlemen spoke of the knowledge of something else found in + Sweden, a treatment which I took. It is, I suppose, a kindred thing. There + is apparently no great difference between them. I was a year and a half in + London and Sweden, in the hands of that grand old man, Mr. Kildren. + </p> + <p> + I cannot call him a doctor, for he has not the authority to give a + certificate if a patient should die, but fortunately they don’t. + </p> + <p> + The State stands as a mighty Gibraltar clothed with power. It stands + between me and my body, and tells me what kind of a doctor I must employ. + When my soul is sick unlimited spiritual liberty is given me by the State. + Now then, it doesn’t seem logical that the State shall depart from this + great policy, the health of the soul, and change about and take the other + position in the matter of smaller consequence—the health of the + body. + </p> + <p> + The Bell bill limitations would drive the osteopaths out of the State. Oh, + dear me! when you drive somebody out of the State you create the same + condition as prevailed in the Garden of Eden. + </p> + <p> + You want the thing that you can’t have. I didn’t care much about the + osteopaths, but as soon as I found they were going to drive them out I got + in a state of uneasiness, and I can’t sleep nights now. + </p> + <p> + I know how Adam felt in the Garden of Eden about the prohibited apple. + Adam didn’t want the apple till he found out he couldn’t have it, just as + he would have wanted osteopathy if he couldn’t have it. + </p> + <p> + Whose property is my body? Probably mine. I so regard it. If I experiment + with it, who must be answerable? I, not the State. If I choose + injudiciously, does the State die? Oh no. + </p> + <p> + I was the subject of my mother’s experiment. She was wise. She made + experiments cautiously. She didn’t pick out just any child in the flock. + No, she chose judiciously. She chose one she could spare, and she couldn’t + spare the others. I was the choice child of the flock; so I had to take + all of the experiments. + </p> + <p> + In 1844 Kneipp filled the world with the wonder of the water cure. Mother + wanted to try it, but on sober second thought she put me through. A bucket + of ice-water was poured over to see the effect. Then I was rubbed down + with flannels, sheet was dipped in the water, and I was put to bed. I + perspired so much that mother put a life-preserver to bed with me. + </p> + <p> + But this had nothing but a spiritual effect on me, and I didn’t care for + that. When they took off the sheet it was yellow from the output of my + conscience, the exudation of sin. It purified me spiritually, and it + remains until this day. + </p> + <p> + I have experimented with osteopathy and allopathy. I took a chance at the + latter for old times’ sake, for, three times, when a boy, mother’s new + methods got me so near death’s door she had to call in the family + physician to pull me out. + </p> + <p> + The physicians think they are moved by regard for the best interests of + the public. Isn’t there a little touch of self-interest back of it all? It + seems to me there is, and I don’t claim to have all the virtues—only + nine or ten of them. + </p> + <p> + I was born in the “Banner State,” and by “Banner State” I mean Missouri. + Osteopathy was born in the same State, and both of us are getting along + reasonably well. At a time during my younger days my attention was + attracted to a picture of a house which bore the inscription, “Christ + Disputing with the Doctors.” + </p> + <p> + I could attach no other meaning to it than that Christ was actually + quarreling with the doctors. So I asked an old slave, who was a sort of a + herb doctor in a small way—unlicensed, of course—what the + meaning of the picture was. “What had he done?” I asked. And the colored + man replied “Humph, he ain’t got no license.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0066" id="link2H_4_0066"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WATER-SUPPLY + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Mr. Clemens visited Albany on February 27 and 28, 1901. The + privileges of the floor were granted to him and he was asked to make a + short address to the Senate. +</pre> + <p> + MR. PRESIDENT AND GENTLEMEN,—I do not know how to thank you + sufficiently for this high honor which you are conferring upon me. I have + for the second time now enjoyed this kind of prodigal hospitality—in + the other House yesterday, to-day in this one. I am a modest man, and + diffident about appearing before legislative bodies, and yet utterly and + entirely appreciative of a courtesy like this when it is extended to me, + and I thank you very much for it. + </p> + <p> + If I had the privilege, which unfortunately I have not got, of suggesting + things to the legislators in my individual capacity, I would so enjoy the + opportunity that I would not charge anything for it at all. I would do + that without a salary. I would give them the benefit of my wisdom and + experience in legislative bodies, and if I could have had the privilege + for a few minutes of giving advice to the other House I should have liked + to, but of course I could not undertake it, as they did not ask me to do + it—but if they had only asked me! + </p> + <p> + Now that the House is considering a measure which is to furnish a + water-supply to the city of New York, why, permit me to say I live in New + York myself. I know all about its ways, its desires, and its residents, + and—if I had the privilege—I should have urged them not to + weary themselves over a measure like that to furnish water to the city of + New York, for we never drink it. + </p> + <p> + But I will not venture to advise this body, as I only venture to advise + bodies who are, not present. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0067" id="link2H_4_0067"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MISTAKEN IDENTITY + </h2> + <h3> + ADDRESS AT THE ANNUAL “LADIES’ DAY,” PAPYRUS CLUB, BOSTON + </h3> + <p> + LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,—I am perfectly astonished—a-s-t-o-n-i-s-h-e-d—ladies + and gentlemen—astonished at the way history repeats itself. I find + myself situated at this moment exactly and precisely as I was once before, + years ago, to a jot, to a tittle—to a very hair. There isn’t a shade + of difference. It is the most astonishing coincidence that ever—but + wait. I will tell you the former instance, and then you will see it for + yourself. Years ago I arrived one day at Salamanca, New York, eastward + bound; must change cars there and take the sleeper train. There were + crowds of people there, and they were swarming into the long sleeper train + and packing it full, and it was a perfect purgatory of dust and confusion + and gritting of teeth and soft, sweet, and low profanity. I asked the + young man in the ticket-office if I could have a sleeping-section, and he + answered “No,” with a snarl that shrivelled me up like burned leather. I + went off, smarting under this insult to my dignity, and asked another + local official, supplicatingly, if I couldn’t have some poor little corner + somewhere in a sleeping-car; but he cut me short with a venomous “No, you + can’t; every corner is full. Now, don’t bother me any more”; and he turned + his back and walked off. My dignity was in a state now which cannot be + described. I was so ruffled that—“well,” I said to my companion, “If + these people knew who I am they—” But my companion cut me short + there—“Don’t talk such folly,” he said; “if they did know who you + are, do you suppose it would help your high-mightiness to a vacancy in a + train which has no vacancies in it?” + </p> + <p> + This did not improve my condition any to speak of, but just then I + observed that the colored porter of a sleeping-car had his eye on me. I + saw his dark countenance light up. He whispered to the uniformed + conductor, punctuating with nods and jerks toward me, and straightway this + conductor came forward, oozing politeness from every pore. + </p> + <p> + “Can I be of any service to you?” he asked. “Will you have a place in the + sleeper?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I said, “and much oblige me, too. Give me anything—anything + will answer.” + </p> + <p> + “We have nothing left but the big family state-room,” he continued, “with + two berths and a couple of arm-chairs in it, but it is entirely at your + disposal. Here, Tom, take these satchels aboard!” + </p> + <p> + Then he touched his hat and we and the colored Tom moved along. I was + bursting to drop just one little remark to my companion, but I held in and + waited. Tom made us comfortable in that sumptuous great apartment, and + then said, with many bows and a perfect affluence of smiles: + </p> + <p> + “Now, is dey anything you want, sah? Case you kin have jes’ anything you + wants. It don’t make no difference what it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Can I have some hot water and a tumbler at nine to-night-blazing hot?” I + asked. “You know about the right temperature for a hot Scotch punch?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sah, dat you kin; you kin pen on it; I’ll get it myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! Now, that lamp is hung too high. Can I have a big coach candle + fixed up just at the head of my bed, so that I can read comfortably?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sah, you kin; I’ll fix her up myself, an’ I’ll fix her so she’ll + burn all night. Yes, sah; an’ you can jes’ call for anything you want, and + dish yer whole railroad’ll be turned wrong end up an’ inside out for to + get it for you. Dat’s so.” And he disappeared. + </p> + <p> + Well, I tilted my head back, hooked my thumbs in my armholes, smiled a + smile on my companion, and said, gently: + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you say now?” + </p> + <p> + My companion was not in the humor to respond, and didn’t. The next moment + that smiling black face was thrust in at the crack of the door, and this + speech followed: + </p> + <p> + “Laws bless you, sah, I knowed you in a minute. I told de conductah so. + Laws! I knowed you de minute I sot eyes on you.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that so, my boy?” (Handing him a quadruple fee.) “Who am I?” + </p> + <p> + “Jenuel McClellan,” and he disappeared again. + </p> + <p> + My companion said, vinegarishly, “Well, well! what do you say now?” Right + there comes in the marvellous coincidence I mentioned a while ago—viz., + I was speechless, and that is my condition now. Perceive it? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0068" id="link2H_4_0068"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CATS AND CANDY + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The following address was delivered at a social meeting of + literary men in New York in 1874: +</pre> + <p> + When I was fourteen I was living with my parents, who were very poor—and + correspondently honest. We had a youth living with us by the name of Jim + Wolfe. He was an excellent fellow, seventeen years old, and very + diffident. He and I slept together—virtuously; and one bitter + winter’s night a cousin Mary—she’s married now and gone—gave + what they call a candy-pulling in those days in the West, and they took + the saucers of hot candy outside of the house into the snow, under a sort + of old bower that came from the eaves—it was a sort of an ell then, + all covered with vines—to cool this hot candy in the snow, and they + were all sitting there. In the mean time we were gone to bed. We were not + invited to attend this party; we were too young. + </p> + <p> + The young ladies and gentlemen were assembled there, and Jim and I were in + bed. There was about four inches of snow on the roof of this ell, and our + windows looked out on it; and it was frozen hard. A couple of tom-cats—it + is possible one might have been of the opposite sex—were assembled + on the chimney in the middle of this ell, and they were growling at a + fearful rate, and switching their tails about and going on, and we + couldn’t sleep at all. + </p> + <p> + Finally Jim said, “For two cents I’d go out and snake them cats off that + chimney.” So I said, “Of course you would.” He said, “Well, I would; I + have a mighty good notion to do it.” Says I, “Of course you have; + certainly you have, you have a great notion to do it.” I hoped he might + try it, but I was afraid he wouldn’t. + </p> + <p> + Finally I did get his ambition up, and he raised the window and climbed + out on the icy roof, with nothing on but his socks and a very short shirt. + He went climbing along on all fours on the roof toward the chimney where + the cats were. In the mean time these young ladies and gentlemen were + enjoying themselves down under the eaves, and when Jim got almost to that + chimney he made a pass at the cats, and his heels flew up and he shot down + and crashed through those vines, and lit in the midst of the ladies and + gentlemen, and sat down in those hot saucers of candy. + </p> + <p> + There was a stampede, of course, and he came up-stairs dropping pieces of + chinaware and candy all the way up, and when he got up there—now + anybody in the world would have gone into profanity or something + calculated to relieve the mind, but he didn’t; he scraped the candy off + his legs, nursed his blisters a little, and said, “I could have ketched + them cats if I had had on a good ready.” + </p> + <p> + [Does any reader know what a “ready” was in 1840? D.W.] + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0069" id="link2H_4_0069"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + OBITUARY POETRY + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE ACTORS’ FUND FAIR, PHILADELPHIA, in 1895 +</pre> + <p> + LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,—The—er this—er—welcome + occasion gives me an—er—opportunity to make an—er—explanation + that I have long desired to deliver myself of. I rise to the highest + honors before a Philadelphia audience. In the course of my checkered + career I have, on divers occasions, been charged—er—maliciously + with a more or less serious offence. It is in reply to one of the more—er—important + of these that I wish to speak. More than once I have been accused of + writing obituary poetry in the Philadelphia Ledger. + </p> + <p> + I wish right here to deny that dreadful assertion. I will admit that once, + when a compositor in the Ledger establishment, I did set up some of that + poetry, but for a worse offence than that no indictment can be found + against me. I did not write that poetry—at least, not all of it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0070" id="link2H_4_0070"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CIGARS AND TOBACCO + </h2> + <p> + My friends for some years now have remarked that I am an inveterate + consumer of tobacco. That is true, but my habits with regard to tobacco + have changed. I have no doubt that you will say, when I have explained to + you what my present purpose is, that my taste has deteriorated, but I do + not so regard it. + </p> + <p> + Whenever I held a smoking-party at my house, I found that my guests had + always just taken the pledge. + </p> + <p> + Let me tell you briefly the history of my personal relation to tobacco. It + began, I think, when I was a lad, and took the form of a quid, which I + became expert in tucking under my tongue. Afterward I learned the delights + of the pipe, and I suppose there was no other youngster of my age who + could more deftly cut plug tobacco so as to make it available for + pipe-smoking. + </p> + <p> + Well, time ran on, and there came a time when I was able to gratify one of + my youthful ambitions—I could buy the choicest Havana cigars without + seriously interfering with my income. I smoked a good many, changing off + from the Havana cigars to the pipe in the course of a day’s smoking. + </p> + <p> + At last it occurred to me that something was lacking in the Havana cigar. + It did not quite fulfil my youthful anticipations. I experimented. I + bought what was called a seed-leaf cigar with a Connecticut wrapper. After + a while I became satiated of these, and I searched for something else, The + Pittsburg stogy was recommended to me. It certainly had the merit of + cheapness, if that be a merit in tobacco, and I experimented with the + stogy. + </p> + <p> + Then, once more, I changed off, so that I might acquire the subtler flavor + of the Wheeling toby. Now that palled, and I looked around New York in the + hope of finding cigars which would seem to most people vile, but which, I + am sure, would be ambrosial to me. I couldn’t find any. They put into my + hands some of those little things that cost ten cents a box, but they are + a delusion. + </p> + <p> + I said to a friend, “I want to know if you can direct me to an honest + tobacco merchant who will tell me what is the worst cigar in the New York + market, excepting those made for Chinese consumption—I want real + tobacco. If you will do this and I find the man is as good as his word, I + will guarantee him a regular market for a fair amount of his cigars.” + </p> + <p> + We found a tobacco dealer who would tell the truth—who, if a cigar + was bad, would boldly say so. He produced what he called the very worst + cigars he had ever had in his shop. He let me experiment with one then and + there. The test was satisfactory. + </p> + <p> + This was, after all, the real thing. I negotiated for a box of them and + took them away with me, so that I might be sure of having them handy when + I want them. + </p> + <p> + I discovered that the “worst cigars,” so called, are the best for me, + after all. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0071" id="link2H_4_0071"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BILLIARDS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Mr. Clemens attended a billiard tourney on the evening of April + 24, 1906, and was called on to tell a story. +</pre> + <p> + The game of billiards has destroyed my naturally sweet disposition. Once, + when I was an underpaid reporter in Virginia City, whenever I wished to + play billiards I went out to look for an easy mark. One day a stranger + came to town and opened a billiard parlor. I looked him over casually. + When he proposed a game, I answered, “All right.” + </p> + <p> + “Just knock the balls around a little so that I can get your gait,” he + said; and when I had done so, he remarked: “I will be perfectly fair with + you. I’ll play you left-handed.” I felt hurt, for he was cross-eyed, + freckled, and had red hair, and I determined to teach him a lesson. He won + first shot, ran out, took my half-dollar, and all I got was the + opportunity to chalk my cue. + </p> + <p> + “If you can play like that with your left hand,” I said, “I’d like to see + you play with your right.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t,” he said. “I’m left-handed.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0072" id="link2H_4_0072"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE UNION RIGHT OR WRONG + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + REMINISCENCES OF NEVADA +</pre> + <p> + I can assure you, ladies and gentlemen, that Nevada had lively newspapers + in those days. + </p> + <p> + My great competitor among the reporters was Boggs, of the Union, an + excellent reporter. + </p> + <p> + Once in three or four months he would get a little intoxicated; but, as a + general thing, he was a wary and cautious drinker, although always ready + to damp himself a little with the enemy. + </p> + <p> + He had the advantage of me in one thing: he could get the monthly + public-school report and I could not, because the principal hated my sheet—the + ‘Enterprise’. + </p> + <p> + One snowy night, when the report was due, I started out, sadly wondering + how I was to get it. + </p> + <p> + Presently, a few steps up the almost deserted street, I stumbled on Boggs, + and asked him where he was going. + </p> + <p> + “After the school report.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll go along with you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Sir. I’ll excuse you.” + </p> + <p> + “Have it your own way.” + </p> + <p> + A saloon-keeper’s boy passed by with a steaming pitcher of hot punch, and + Boggs snuffed the fragrance gratefully. + </p> + <p> + He gazed fondly after the boy, and saw him start up the Enterprise stairs. + </p> + <p> + I said: + </p> + <p> + “I wish you could help me get that school business, but since you can’t, I + must run up to the Union office and see if I can get a proof of it after + it’s set up, though I don’t begin to suppose I can. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on a minute. I don’t mind getting the report and sitting around with + the boys a little while you copy it, if you’re willing to drop down to the + principal’s with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Now you talk like a human being. Come along.” + </p> + <p> + We ploughed a couple of blocks through the snow, got the report—a + short document—and soon copied it in our office. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, Boggs helped himself to the punch. + </p> + <p> + I gave the manuscript back to him, and we started back to get an inquest. + </p> + <p> + At four o’clock in the morning, when we had gone to press and were having + a relaxing concert as usual (for some of the printers were good singers + and others good performers on the guitar and on that atrocity the + accordion), the proprietor of the Union strode in and asked if anybody had + heard anything of Boggs or the school report. + </p> + <p> + We stated the case, and all turned out to help hunt for the delinquent. + </p> + <p> + We found him standing on a table in a saloon, with an old tin lantern in + one hand and the school report in the other, haranguing a gang of “corned” + miners on the iniquity of squandering the public money on education “when + hundreds and hundreds of honest, hard-working men were literally starving + for whiskey.” + </p> + <p> + He had been assisting in a regal spree with those parties for hours. + </p> + <p> + We dragged him away, and put him into bed. + </p> + <p> + Of course there was no school report in the Union, and Boggs held me + accountable, though I was innocent of any intention or desire to compass + its absence from that paper, and was as sorry as any one that the + misfortune had occurred. But we were perfectly friendly. + </p> + <p> + The day the next school report was due the proprietor of the Tennessee + Mine furnished us a buggy, and asked us to go down and write something + about the property—a very common request, and one always gladly + acceded to when people furnished buggies, for we were as fond of pleasure + excursions as other people. + </p> + <p> + The “mine” was a hole in the ground ninety feet deep, and no way of + getting down into it but by holding on to a rope and being lowered with a + windlass. + </p> + <p> + The workmen had just gone off somewhere to dinner. + </p> + <p> + I was not strong enough to lower Boggs’s bulk, so I took an unlighted + candle in my teeth, made a loop for my foot in the end of the rope, + implored Boggs not to go to sleep or let the windlass get the start of + him, and then swung out over the shaft. + </p> + <p> + I reached the bottom muddy and bruised about the elbows, but safe. + </p> + <p> + I lit the candle, made an examination of the rock, selected some + specimens, and shouted to Boggs to hoist away. + </p> + <p> + No answer. + </p> + <p> + Presently a head appeared in the circle of daylight away aloft, and a + voice came down: + </p> + <p> + “Are you all set?” + </p> + <p> + “All set-hoist away!” + </p> + <p> + “Are you comfortable?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + “Could you wait a little?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, certainly-no particular hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “Well-good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “After the school report!” + </p> + <p> + And he did. + </p> + <p> + I stayed down there an hour, and surprised the workmen when they hauled up + and found a man on the rope instead of a bucket of rock. + </p> + <p> + I walked home, too—five miles-up-hill. + </p> + <p> + We had no school report next morning—but the Union had. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0073" id="link2H_4_0073"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + AN IDEAL FRENCH ADDRESS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + EXTRACT FROM “PARIS NOTES,” IN “TOM SAWYER ABROAD,” ETC. +</pre> + <p> + I am told that a French sermon is like a French speech—it never + names an historical event, but only the date of it; if you are not up in + dates, you get left. A French speech is something like this: + </p> + <p> + “Comrades, citizens, brothers, noble parts of the only sublime and perfect + nation, let us not forget that the 21st January cast off our chains; that + the 10th August relieved us of the shameful presence of foreign spies; + that the 5th September was its own justification before Heaven and + humanity; that the 18th Brumaire contained the seeds of its own + punishment; that the 14th July was the mighty voice of liberty proclaiming + the resurrection, the new day, and inviting the oppressed peoples of the + earth to look upon the divine face of France and live; and let us here + record our everlasting curse against the man of the 2d December, and + declare in thunder tones, the native tones of France, that but for him + there had been no 17th March in history, no 12th October, nor 9th January, + no 22d April, no 16th November, no 30th September, no 2d July, no 14th + February, no 29th June, no 15th August, no 31st May—that but for + him, France, the pure, the grand, the peerless, had had a serene and + vacant almanac to-day.” + </p> + <p> + I have heard of one French sermon which closed in this odd yet eloquent + way: + </p> + <p> + “My hearers, we have sad cause to remember the man of the 13th January. + The results of the vast crime of the 13th January have been in just + proportion to the magnitude of the act itself. But for it there had been + no 30th November—sorrowful spectacle! The grisly deed of the 16th + June had not been done but for it, nor had the man of the 16th June known + existence; to it alone the 3d September was due, also the fatal 12th + October. Shall we, then, be grateful for the 13th January, with its + freight of death for you and me and all that breathe? Yes, my friends, for + it gave us also that which had never come but for it, and it alone—the + blessed 25th December.” + </p> + <p> + It may be well enough to explain. The man of the 13th January is Adam; the + crime of that date was the eating of the apple; the sorrowful spectacle of + the 30th November was the expulsion from Eden; the grisly deed of the 16th + June was the murder of Abel; the act of the 3d September was the beginning + of the journey to the land of Nod; the 12th day of October, the last + mountaintops disappeared under the flood. When you go to church in France, + you want to take your almanac with you—annotated. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0074" id="link2H_4_0074"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + STATISTICS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + EXTRACT FROM “THE HISTORY OF THE SAVAGE CLUB” + + During that period of gloom when domestic bereavement had + forced Mr. Clemens and his dear ones to secure the privacy they + craved until their wounds should heal, his address was known to + only a very few of his closest friends. One old friend in New + York, after vain efforts to get his address, wrote him a letter + addressed as follows + + MARK TWAIN, + God Knows Where, + Try London. + + The letter found him, and Mr. Clemens replied to the letter + expressing himself surprised and complimented that the person + who was credited with knowing his whereabouts should take so + much interest in him, adding: “Had the letter been addressed to + the care of the ‘other party,’ I would naturally have expected + to receive it without delay.” + + His correspondent tried again, and addressed the second letter: + + MARK TWAIN, + The Devil Knows Where, + Try London. + + This found him also no less promptly. + + On June 9, 1899, he consented to visit the Savage Club, London, + on condition that there was to be no publicity and no speech + was to be expected from him. The toastmaster, in proposing the + health of their guest, said that as a Scotchman, and therefore + as a born expert, he thought Mark Twain had little or no claim + to the title of humorist. Mr. Clemens had tried to be funny + but had failed, and his true role in life was statistics; that + he was a master of statistics, and loved them for their own + sake, and it would be the easiest task he ever undertook if he + would try to count all the real jokes he had ever made. While + the toastmaster was speaking, the members saw Mr. Clemens’s + eyes begin to sparkle and his cheeks to flush. He jumped up, + and made a characteristic speech. +</pre> + <p> + Perhaps I am not a humorist, but I am a first-class fool—a + simpleton; for up to this moment I have believed Chairman MacAlister to be + a decent person whom I could allow to mix up with my friends and + relatives. The exhibition he has just made of himself reveals him to be a + scoundrel and a knave of the deepest dye. I have been cruelly deceived, + and it serves me right for trusting a Scotchman. Yes, I do understand + figures, and I can count. I have counted the words in MacAlister’s drivel + (I certainly cannot call it a speech), and there were exactly three + thousand four hundred and thirty-nine. I also carefully counted the lies—there + were exactly three thousand four hundred and thirty-nine. Therefore, I + leave MacAlister to his fate. + </p> + <p> + I was sorry to have my name mentioned as one of the great authors, because + they have a sad habit of dying off. Chaucer is dead, Spencer is dead, so + is Milton, so is Shakespeare, and I am not feeling very well myself. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0075" id="link2H_4_0075"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + GALVESTON ORPHAN BAZAAR + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT A FAIR HELD AT THE WALDORF-ASTORIA, NEW YORK, IN + OCTOBER, 1900, IN AID OF THE ORPHANS AT GALVESTON +</pre> + <p> + I expected that the Governor of Texas would occupy this place first and + would speak to you, and in the course of his remarks would drop a text for + me to talk from; but with the proverbial obstinacy that is proverbial with + governors, they go back on their duties, and he has not come here, and has + not furnished me with a text, and I am here without a text. I have no text + except what you furnish me with your handsome faces, and—but I won’t + continue that, for I could go on forever about attractive faces, beautiful + dresses, and other things. But, after all, compliments should be in order + in a place like this. + </p> + <p> + I have been in New York two or three days, and have been in a condition of + strict diligence night and day, the object of this diligence being to + regulate the moral and political situation on this planet—put it on + a sound basis—and when you are regulating the conditions of a planet + it requires a great deal of talk in a great many kinds of ways, and when + you have talked a lot the emptier you get, and get also in a position of + corking. When I am situated like that, with nothing to say, I feel as + though I were a sort of fraud; I seem to be playing a part, and please + consider I am playing a part for want of something better, and this is + not unfamiliar to me; I have often done this before. + </p> + <p> + When I was here about eight years ago I was coming up in a car of the + elevated road. Very few people were in that car, and on one end of it + there was no one, except on the opposite seat, where sat a man about fifty + years old, with a most winning face and an elegant eye—a beautiful + eye; and I took him from his dress to be a master mechanic, a man who had + a vocation. He had with him a very fine little child of about four or five + years. I was watching the affection which existed between those two. I + judged he was the grandfather, perhaps. It was really a pretty child, and + I was admiring her, and as soon as he saw I was admiring her he began to + notice me. + </p> + <p> + I could see his admiration of me in his eye, and I did what everybody else + would do—admired the child four times as much, knowing I would get + four times as much of his admiration. Things went on very pleasantly. I + was making my way into his heart. + </p> + <p> + By-and-by, when he almost reached the station where he was to get off, he + got up, crossed over, and he said: “Now I am going to say something to you + which I hope you will regard as a compliment.” And then he went on to say: + “I have never seen Mark Twain, but I have seen a portrait of him, and any + friend of mine will tell you that when I have once seen a portrait of a + man I place it in my eye and store it away in my memory, and I can tell + you now that you look enough like Mark Twain to be his brother. Now,” he + said, “I hope you take this as a compliment. Yes, you are a very good + imitation; but when I come to look closer, you are probably not that man.” + </p> + <p> + I said: “I will be frank with you. In my desire to look like that + excellent character I have dressed for the character; I have been playing + a part.” + </p> + <p> + He said: “That is all right, that is all right; you look very well on the + outside, but when it comes to the inside you are not in it with the + original.” + </p> + <p> + So when I come to a place like this with nothing valuable to say I always + play a part. But I will say before I sit down that when it comes to saying + anything here I will express myself in this way: I am heartily in sympathy + with you in your efforts to help those who were sufferers in this + calamity, and in your desire to help those who were rendered homeless, and + in saying this I wish to impress on you the fact that I am not playing a + part. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0076" id="link2H_4_0076"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SAN FRANCISCO EARTHQUAKE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + After the address at the Robert Fulton Fund meeting, June 19, + 1906, Mr. Clemens talked to the assembled reporters about the + San Francisco earthquake. +</pre> + <p> + I haven’t been there since 1868, and that great city of San Francisco has + grown up since my day. When I was there she had one hundred and eighteen + thousand people, and of this number eighteen thousand were Chinese. I was + a reporter on the Virginia City Enterprise in Nevada in 1862, and stayed + there, I think, about two years, when I went to San Francisco and got a + job as a reporter on The Call. I was there three or four years. + </p> + <p> + I remember one day I was walking down Third Street in San Francisco. It + was a sleepy, dull Sunday afternoon, and no one was stirring. Suddenly as + I looked up the street about three hundred yards the whole side of a house + fell out. The street was full of bricks and mortar. At the same time I was + knocked against the side of a house, and stood there stunned for a moment. + </p> + <p> + I thought it was an earthquake. Nobody else had heard anything about it + and no one said earthquake to me afterward, but I saw it and I wrote it. + Nobody else wrote it, and the house I saw go into the street was the only + house in the city that felt it. I’ve always wondered if it wasn’t a little + performance gotten up for my especial entertainment by the nether regions. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0077" id="link2H_4_0077"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHARITY AND ACTORS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE ACTORS’ FUND FAIR IN THE METROPOLITAN + OPERA HOUSE, NEW YORK, MAY 6, 1907 + + Mr. Clemens, in his white suit, formally declared the fair + open. Mr. Daniel Frohman, in introducing Mr. Clemens, said: + + “We intend to make this a banner week in the history of the + Fund, which takes an interest in every one on the stage, be he + actor, singer, dancer, or workman. We have spent more than + $40,000 during the past year. Charity covers a multitude of + sins, but it also reveals a multitude of virtues. At the + opening of the former fair we had the assistance of Edwin Booth + and Joseph Jefferson. In their place we have to-day that + American institution and apostle of wide humanity—Mark Twain.” + </pre> + <p> + As Mr. Frohman has said, charity reveals a multitude of virtues. This is + true, and it is to be proved here before the week is over. Mr. Frohman has + told you something of the object and something of the character of the + work. He told me he would do this—and he has kept his word! I had + expected to hear of it through the newspapers. I wouldn’t trust anything + between Frohman and the newspapers—except when it’s a case of + charity! + </p> + <p> + You should all remember that the actor has been your benefactor many and + many a year. When you have been weary and downcast he has lifted your + heart out of gloom and given you a fresh impulse. You are all under + obligation to him. This is your opportunity to be his benefactor—to + help provide for him in his old age and when he suffers from infirmities. + </p> + <p> + At this fair no one is to be persecuted to buy. If you offer a + twenty-dollar bill in payment for a purchase of $1 you will receive $19 in + change. There is to be no robbery here. There is to be no creed here—no + religion except charity. We want to raise $250,000—and that is a + great task to attempt. + </p> + <p> + The President has set the fair in motion by pressing the button in + Washington. Now your good wishes are to be transmuted into cash. + </p> + <p> + By virtue of the authority in me vested I declare the fair open. I call + the ball game. Let the transmuting begin! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0078" id="link2H_4_0078"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + RUSSIAN REPUBLIC + </h2> + <pre xml:space="preserve"> + The American auxiliary movement to aid the cause of freedom in Russia was + launched on the evening of April 11, 1906, at the Club A house, 3 Fifth + Avenue, with Mr. Clemens and Maxim Gorky as the principal spokesmen. Mr. + Clemens made an introductory address, presenting Mr. Gorky. + </pre> + <p> + If we can build a Russian republic to give to the persecuted people of the + Tsar’s domain the same measure of freedom that we enjoy, let us go ahead + and do it. We need not discuss the methods by which that purpose is to be + attained. Let us hope that fighting will be postponed or averted for a + while, but if it must come— + </p> + <p> + I am most emphatically in sympathy with the movement, now on foot in + Russia, to make that country free. I am certain that it will be + successful, as it deserves to be. Any such movement should have and + deserves our earnest and unanimous co-operation, and such a petition for + funds as has been explained by Mr. Hunter, with its just and powerful + meaning, should have the utmost support of each and every one of us. + Anybody whose ancestors were in this country when we were trying to free + ourselves from oppression, must sympathize with those who now are trying + to do the same thing in Russia. + </p> + <p> + The parallel I have just drawn only goes to show that it makes no + difference whether the oppression is bitter or not; men with red, warm + blood in their veins will not endure it, but will seek to cast it off. If + we keep our hearts in this matter Russia will be free. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0079" id="link2H_4_0079"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + RUSSIAN SUFFERERS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + On December 18, 1905, an entertainment was given at the Casino + for the benefit of the Russian sufferers. After the + performance Mr. Clemens spoke. +</pre> + <p> + LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,—It seems a sort of cruelty to inflict upon an + audience like this our rude English tongue, after we have heard that + divine speech flowing in that lucid Gallic tongue. + </p> + <p> + It has always been a marvel to me—that French language; it has + always been a puzzle to me. How beautiful that language is. How expressive + it seems to be. How full of grace it is. + </p> + <p> + And when it comes from lips like those, how eloquent and how liquid it is. + And, oh, I am always deceived—I always think I am going to + understand it. + </p> + <p> + Oh, it is such a delight to me, such a delight to me, to meet Madame + Bernhardt, and laugh hand to hand and heart to heart with her. + </p> + <p> + I have seen her play, as we all have, and oh, that is divine; but I have + always wanted to know Madame Bernhardt herself—her fiery self. I + have wanted to know that beautiful character. + </p> + <p> + Why, she is the youngest person I ever saw, except myself—for I + always feel young when I come in the presence of young people. + </p> + <p> + I have a pleasant recollection of an incident so many years ago—when + Madame Bernhardt came to Hartford, where I lived, and she was going to + play and the tickets were three dollars, and there were two lovely women—a + widow and her daughter—neighbors of ours, highly cultivated ladies + they were; their tastes were fine and elevated, but they were very poor, + and they said “Well, we must not spend six dollars on a pleasure of the + mind, a pleasure of the intellect; we must spend it, if it must go at all, + to furnish to somebody bread to eat.” + </p> + <p> + And so they sorrowed over the fact that they had to give up that great + pleasure of seeing Madame Bernhardt, but there were two neighbors equally + highly cultivated and who could not afford bread, and those good-hearted + Joneses sent that six dollars—deprived themselves of it—and + sent it to those poor Smiths to buy bread with. And those Smiths took it + and bought tickets with it to see Madame Bernhardt. + </p> + <p> + Oh yes, some people have tastes and intelligence also. + </p> + <p> + Now, I was going to make a speech—I supposed I was, but I am not. It + is late, late; and so I am going to tell a story; and there is this + advantage about a story, anyway, that whatever moral or valuable thing you + put into a speech, why, it gets diffused among those involuted sentences + and possibly your audience goes away without finding out what that + valuable thing was that you were trying to confer upon it; but, dear me, + you put the same jewel into a story and it becomes the keystone of that + story, and you are bound to get it—it flashes, it flames, it is the + jewel in the toad’s head—you don’t overlook that. + </p> + <p> + Now, if I am going to talk on such a subject as, for instance, the lost + opportunity—oh, the lost opportunity. Anybody in this house who has + reached the turn of life—sixty, or seventy, or even fifty, or along + there—when he goes back along his history, there he finds it + mile-stoned all the way with the lost opportunity, and you know how + pathetic that is. + </p> + <p> + You younger ones cannot know the full pathos that lies in those words—the + lost opportunity; but anybody who is old, who has really lived and felt + this life, he knows the pathos of the lost opportunity. + </p> + <p> + Now, I will tell you a story whose moral is that, whose lesson is that, + whose lament is that. + </p> + <p> + I was in a village which is a suburb of New Bedford several years ago—well, + New Bedford is a suburb of Fair Haven, or perhaps it is the other way; in + any case, it took both of those towns to make a great centre of the great + whaling industry of the first half of the nineteenth century, and I was up + there at Fair Haven some years ago with a friend of mine. + </p> + <p> + There was a dedication of a great town-hall, a public building, and we + were there in the afternoon. This great building was filled, like this + great theatre, with rejoicing villagers, and my friend and I started down + the centre aisle. He saw a man standing in that aisle, and he said “Now, + look at that bronzed veteran—at that mahogany-faced man. Now, tell + me, do you see anything about that man’s face that is emotional? Do you + see anything about it that suggests that inside that man anywhere there + are fires that can be started? Would you ever imagine that that is a human + volcano?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no,” I said, “I would not. He looks like a wooden Indian in front of + a cigar store.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said my friend, “I will show you that there is emotion even + in that unpromising place. I will just go to that man and I will just + mention in the most casual way an incident in his life. That man is + getting along toward ninety years old. He is past eighty. I will mention + an incident of fifty or sixty years ago. Now, just watch the effect, and + it will be so casual that if you don’t watch you won’t know when I do say + that thing—but you just watch the effect.” + </p> + <p> + He went on down there and accosted this antiquity, and made a remark or + two. I could not catch up. They were so casual I could not recognize which + one it was that touched that bottom, for in an instant that old man was + literally in eruption and was filling the whole place with profanity of + the most exquisite kind. You never heard such accomplished profanity. I + never heard it also delivered with such eloquence. + </p> + <p> + I never enjoyed profanity as I enjoyed it then—more than if I had + been uttering it myself. There is nothing like listening to an artist—all + his passions passing away in lava, smoke, thunder, lightning, and + earthquake. + </p> + <p> + Then this friend said to me: “Now, I will tell you about that. About sixty + years ago that man was a young fellow of twenty-three, and had just come + home from a three years’ whaling voyage. He came into that village of his, + happy and proud because now, instead of being chief mate, he was going to + be master of a whaleship, and he was proud and happy about it. + </p> + <p> + “Then he found that there had been a kind of a cold frost come upon that + town and the whole region roundabout; for while he had been away the + Father Mathew temperance excitement had come upon the whole region. + Therefore, everybody had taken the pledge; there wasn’t anybody for miles + and miles around that had not taken the pledge. + </p> + <p> + “So you can see what a solitude it was to this young man, who was fond of + his grog. And he was just an outcast, because when they found he would not + join Father Mathew’s Society they ostracized him, and he went about that + town three weeks, day and night, in utter loneliness—the only human + being in the whole place who ever took grog, and he had to take it + privately. + </p> + <p> + “If you don’t know what it is to be ostracized, to be shunned by your + fellow-man, may you never know it. Then he recognized that there was + something more valuable in this life than grog, and that is the fellowship + of your fellow-man. And at last he gave it up, and at nine o’clock one + night he went down to the Father Mathew Temperance Society, and with a + broken heart he said: ‘Put my name down for membership in this society.’ + </p> + <p> + “And then he went away crying, and at earliest dawn the next morning they + came for him and routed him out, and they said that new ship of his was + ready to sail on a three years’ voyage. In a minute he was on board that + ship and gone. + </p> + <p> + “And he said—well, he was not out of sight of that town till he + began to repent, but he had made up his mind that he would not take a + drink, and so that whole voyage of three years was a three years’ agony to + that man because he saw all the time the mistake he had made. + </p> + <p> + “He felt it all through; he had constant reminders of it, because the crew + would pass him with their grog, come out on the deck and take it, and + there was the torturous Smell of it. + </p> + <p> + “He went through the whole, three years of suffering, and at last coming + into port it was snowy, it was cold, he was stamping through the snow two + feet deep on the deck and longing to get home, and there was his crew + torturing him to the last minute with hot grog, but at last he had his + reward. He really did get to shore at last, and jumped and ran and bought + a jug and rushed to the society’s office, and said to the secretary: + </p> + <p> + “‘Take my name off your membership books, and do it right away! I have got + a three years’ thirst on.’ + </p> + <p> + “And the secretary said: ‘It is not necessary. You were blackballed!’” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0080" id="link2H_4_0080"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WATTERSON AND TWAIN AS REBELS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE CELEBRATION OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN’S 92ND BIRTHDAY + ANNIVERSARY, CARNEGIE HALL, FEBRUARY 11, 1901, TO RAISE FUNDS + FOR THE LINCOLN MEMORIAL UNIVERSITY AT CUMBERLAND GAP, TENN. +</pre> + <p> + LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,—The remainder of my duties as presiding + chairman here this evening are but two—only two. One of them is + easy, and the other difficult. That is to say, I must introduce the + orator, and then keep still and give him a chance. The name of Henry + Watterson carries with it its own explanation. It is like an electric + light on top of Madison Square Garden; you touch the button and the light + flashes up out of the darkness. You mention the name of Henry Watterson, + and your minds are at once illuminated with the splendid radiance of his + fame and achievements. A journalist, a soldier, an orator, a statesman, a + rebel. Yes, he was a rebel; and, better still, now he is a reconstructed + rebel. + </p> + <p> + It is a curious circumstance, a circumstance brought about without any + collusion or prearrangement, that he and I, both of whom were rebels + related by blood to each other, should be brought here together this + evening bearing a tribute in our hands and bowing our heads in reverence + to that noble soul who for three years we tried to destroy. I don’t know + as the fact has ever been mentioned before, but it is a fact, + nevertheless. Colonel Watterson and I were both rebels, and we are blood + relations. I was a second lieutenant in a Confederate company for a while—oh, + I could have stayed on if I had wanted to. I made myself felt, I left + tracks all around the country. I could have stayed on, but it was such + weather. I never saw such weather to be out-of-doors in, in all my life. + </p> + <p> + The Colonel commanded a regiment, and did his part, I suppose, to destroy + the Union. He did not succeed, yet if he had obeyed me he would have done + so. I had a plan, and I fully intended to drive General Grant into the + Pacific Ocean—if I could get transportation. I told Colonel + Watterson about it. I told him what he had to do. What I wanted him to do + was to surround the Eastern army and wait until I came up. But he was + insubordinate; he stuck on some quibble of military etiquette about a + second lieutenant giving orders to a colonel or something like that. And + what was the consequence? The Union was preserved. This is the first time + I believe that that secret has ever been revealed. + </p> + <p> + No one outside of the family circle, I think, knew it before; but there + the facts are. Watterson saved the Union; yes, he saved the Union. And yet + there he sits, and not a step has been taken or a movement made toward + granting him a pension. That is the way things are done. It is a case + where some blushing ought to be done. You ought to blush, and I ought to + blush, and he—well, he’s a little out of practice now. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0081" id="link2H_4_0081"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ROBERT FULTON FUND + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS MADE ON THE EVENING OF APRIL 19, 1906 + + Mr. Clemens had been asked to address the association by Gen. + Frederick D. Grant, president. He was offered a fee of $1,000, + but refused it, saying: + + “I shall be glad to do it, but I must stipulate that you keep + the $1,000, and add it to the Memorial Fund as my contribution + to erect a monument in New York to the memory of the man who + applied steam to navigation.” + + At this meeting Mr. Clemens made this formal announcement from + the platform: + + “This is my last appearance on the paid platform. I shall not + retire from the gratis platform until I am buried, and courtesy + will compel me to keep still and not disturb the others. Now, + since I must, I shall say good-bye. I see many faces in this + audience well known to me. They are all my friends, and I feel + that those I don’t know are my friends, too. I wish to + consider that you represent the nation, and that in saying + good-bye to you I am saying good-bye to the nation. In the + great name of humanity, let me say this final word: I offer an + appeal in behalf of that vast, pathetic multitude of fathers, + mothers, and helpless little children. They were sheltered and + happy two days ago. Now they are wandering, forlorn, hopeless, + and homeless, the victims of a great disaster. So I beg of + you, I beg of you, to open your hearts and open your purses and + remember San Francisco, the smitten city.” + </pre> + <p> + I wish to deliver a historical address. I’ve been studying the history of—-er—a—let + me see—a [then he stopped in confusion, and walked over to Gen. Fred + D. Grant, who sat at the head of the platform. He leaned over in a + whisper, and then returned to the front of the stage and continued]. Oh + yes! I’ve been studying Robert Fulton. I’ve been studying a biographical + sketch of Robert Fulton, the inventor of—er—a—let’s see—ah + yes, the inventor of the electric telegraph and the Morse sewing—machine. + Also, I understand he invented the air—diria—pshaw! I have it + at last—the dirigible balloon. Yes, the dirigible—but it is a + difficult word, and I don’t see why anybody should marry a couple of words + like that when they don’t want to be married at all and are likely to + quarrel with each other all the time. I should put that couple of words + under the ban of the United States Supreme Court, under its decision of a + few days ago, and take ’em out and drown ’em. + </p> + <p> + I used to know Fulton. It used to do me good to see him dashing through + the town on a wild broncho. + </p> + <p> + And Fulton was born in—-er—a—Well, it doesn’t make much + difference where he was born, does it? I remember a man who came to + interview me once, to get a sketch of my life. I consulted with a friend—a + practical man—before he came, to know how I should treat him. + </p> + <p> + “Whenever you give the interviewer a fact,” he said, “give him another + fact that will contradict it. Then he’ll go away with a jumble that he + can’t use at all. Be gentle, be sweet, smile like an idiot—just be + natural.” That’s what my friend told me to do, and I did it. + </p> + <p> + “Where were you born?” asked the interviewer. + </p> + <p> + “Well-er-a,” I began, “I was born in Alabama, or Alaska, or the Sandwich + Islands; I don’t know where, but right around there somewhere. And you had + better put it down before you forget it.” + </p> + <p> + “But you weren’t born in all those places,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’ve offered you three places. Take your choice. They’re all at the + same price.” + </p> + <p> + “How old are you?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be nineteen in June,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Why, there’s such a discrepancy between your age and your looks,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that’s nothing,” I said, “I was born discrepantly.” + </p> + <p> + Then we got to talking about my brother Samuel, and he told me my + explanations were confusing. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose he is dead,” I said. “Some said that he was dead and some said + that he wasn’t.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you bury him without knowing whether he was dead or not?” asked the + reporter. + </p> + <p> + “There was a mystery,” said I. “We were twins, and one day when we were + two weeks old—that is, he was one week old, and I was one week old—we + got mixed up in the bath-tub, and one of us drowned. We never could tell + which. One of us had a strawberry birthmark on the back of his hand. There + it is on my hand. This is the one that was drowned. There’s no doubt about + it. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s the mystery?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Why, don’t you see how stupid it was to bury the wrong twin?” I answered. + I didn’t explain it any more because he said the explanation confused him. + To me it is perfectly plain. + </p> + <p> + But, to get back to Fulton. I’m going along like an old man I used to know + who used to start to tell a story about his grandfather. He had an awfully + retentive memory, and he never finished the story, because he switched off + into something else. He used to tell about how his grandfather one day + went into a pasture, where there was a ram. The old man dropped a silver + dime in the grass, and stooped over to pick it up. The ram was observing + him, and took the old man’s action as an invitation. + </p> + <p> + Just as he was going to finish about the ram this friend of mine would + recall that his grandfather had a niece who had a glass eye. She used to + loan that glass eye to another lady friend, who used it when she received + company. The eye didn’t fit the friend’s face, and it was loose. And + whenever she winked it would turn over. + </p> + <p> + Then he got on the subject of accidents, and he would tell a story about + how he believed accidents never happened. + </p> + <p> + “There was an Irishman coming down a ladder with a hod of bricks,” he + said, “and a Dutchman was standing on the ground below. The Irishman fell + on the Dutchman and killed him. Accident? Never! If the Dutchman hadn’t + been there the Irishman would have been killed. Why didn’t the Irishman + fall on a dog which was next to the Dutchman? Because the dog would have + seen him coming.” + </p> + <p> + Then he’d get off from the Dutchman to an uncle named Reginald Wilson. + Reginald went into a carpet factory one day, and got twisted into the + machinery’s belt. He went excursioning around the factory until he was + properly distributed and was woven into sixty-nine yards of the best + three-ply carpet. His wife bought the carpet, and then she erected a + monument to his memory. It read: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Sacred to the memory + of + sixty-nine yards of the best three-ply carpet + containing the mortal remainders of + + REGINALD WILSON + + Go thou and do likewise +</pre> + <p> + And so on he would ramble about telling the story of his grandfather until + we never were told whether he found the ten-cent piece or whether + something else happened. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0082" id="link2H_4_0082"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + FULTON DAY, JAMESTOWN + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS DELIVERED SEPTEMBER 23, 1907 + + Lieutenant-Governor Ellyson, of Virginia, in introducing Mr. + Clemens, said: + + “The people have come here to bring a tribute of affectionate + recollection for the man who has contributed so much to the + progress of the world and the happiness of mankind.” As Mr. + Clemens came down to the platform the applause became louder + and louder, until Mr. Clemens held out his hand for silence. + It was a great triumph, and it was almost a minute after the + applause ceased before Mr. Clemens could speak. He attempted + it once, and when the audience noticed his emotion, it cheered + again loudly. +</pre> + <p> + LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,—I am but human, and when you, give me a + reception like that I am obliged to wait a little while I get my voice. + When you appeal to my head, I don’t feel it; but when you appeal to my + heart, I do feel it. + </p> + <p> + We are here to celebrate one of the greatest events of American history, + and not only in American history, but in the world’s history. + </p> + <p> + Indeed it was—the application of steam by Robert Fulton. + </p> + <p> + It was a world event—there are not many of them. It is peculiarly an + American event, that is true, but the influence was very broad in effect. + We should regard this day as a very great American holiday. We have not + many that are exclusively American holidays. We have the Fourth of July, + which we regard as an American holiday, but it is nothing of the kind. I + am waiting for a dissenting voice. All great efforts that led up to the + Fourth of July were made, not by Americans, but by English residents of + America, subjects of the King of England. + </p> + <p> + They fought all the fighting that was done, they shed and spilt all the + blood that was spilt, in securing to us the invaluable liberties which are + incorporated in the Declaration of Independence; but they were not + Americans. They signed the Declaration of Independence; no American’s name + is signed to that document at all. There never was an American such as you + and I are until after the Revolution, when it had all been fought out and + liberty secured, after the adoption of the Constitution, and the + recognition of the Independence of America by all powers. + </p> + <p> + While we revere the Fourth of July—and let us always revere it, and + the liberties it conferred upon us—yet it was not an American event, + a great American day. + </p> + <p> + It was an American who applied that steam successfully. There are not a + great many world events, and we have our full share. The telegraph, + telephone, and the application of steam to navigation—these are + great American events. + </p> + <p> + To-day I have been requested, or I have requested myself, not to confine + myself to furnishing you with information, but to remind you of things, + and to introduce one of the nation’s celebrants. + </p> + <p> + Admiral Harrington here is going to tell you all that I have left untold. + I am going to tell you all that I know, and then he will follow up with + such rags and remnants as he can find, and tell you what he knows. + </p> + <p> + No doubt you have heard a great deal about Robert Fulton and the + influences that have grown from his invention, but the little steamboat is + suffering neglect. + </p> + <p> + You probably do not know a great deal about that boat. It was the most + important steamboat in the world. I was there and saw it. Admiral + Harrington was there at the time. It need not surprise you, for he is not + as old as he looks. That little boat was interesting in every way. The + size of it. The boat was one [consults Admiral], he said ten feet long. + The breadth of that boat [consults Admiral], two hundred feet. You see, + the first and most important detail is the length, then the breadth, and + then the depth; the depth of that boat was [consults again]—the + Admiral says it was a flat boat. Then her tonnage—you know nothing + about a boat until you know two more things: her speed and her tonnage. We + know the speed she made. She made four miles—-and sometimes five + miles. It was on her initial trip, on, August 11, 1807, that she made her + initial trip, when she went from [consults Admiral] Jersey City—to + Chicago. That’s right. She went by way of Albany. Now comes the tonnage of + that boat. Tonnage of a boat means the amount of displacement; + displacement means the amount of water a vessel can shove in a day. The + tonnage of man is estimated by the amount of whiskey he can displace in a + day. + </p> + <p> + Robert Fulton named the ‘Clermont’ in honor of his bride, that is, + Clermont was the name of the county-seat. + </p> + <p> + I feel that it surprises you that I know so much. In my remarks of welcome + of Admiral Harrington I am not going to give him compliments. Compliments + always embarrass a man. You do not know anything to say. It does not + inspire you with words. There is nothing you can say in answer to a + compliment. I have been complimented myself a great many times, and they + always embarrass me—I always feel that they have not said enough. + </p> + <p> + The Admiral and myself have held public office, and were associated + together a great deal in a friendly way in the time of Pocahontas. That + incident where Pocahontas saves the life of Smith from her father, + Powhatan’s club, was gotten up by the Admiral and myself to advertise + Jamestown. + </p> + <p> + At that time the Admiral and myself did not have the facilities of + advertising that you have. + </p> + <p> + I have known Admiral Harrington in all kinds of situations—in public + service, on the platform, and in the chain-gang now and then—but it + was a mistake. A case of mistaken identity. I do not think it is at all a + necessity to tell you Admiral Harrington’s public history. You know that + it is in the histories. I am not here to tell you anything about his + public life, but to expose his private life. + </p> + <p> + I am something of a poet. When the great poet laureate, Tennyson, died, + and I found that the place was open, I tried to get it—but I did not + get it. Anybody can write the first line of a poem, but it is a very + difficult task to make the second line rhyme with the first. When I was + down in Australia there were two towns named Johnswood and Par-am. I made + this rhyme: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The people of Johnswood are pious and good; + The people of Par-am they don’t care a——.” + </pre> + <p> + I do not want to compliment Admiral Harrington, but as long as such men as + he devote their lives to the public service the credit of the country will + never cease. I will say that the same high qualities, the same moral and + intellectual attainments, the same graciousness of manner, of conduct, of + observation, and expression have caused Admiral Harrington to be mistaken + for me—and I have been mistaken for him. + </p> + <p> + A mutual compliment can go no further, and I now have the honor and + privilege of introducing to you Admiral Harrington. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0083" id="link2H_4_0083"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LOTOS CLUB DINNER IN HONOR OF MARK TWAIN + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE FIRST FORMAL DINNER IN THE NEW CLUB-HOUSE, + NOVEMBER 11, 1893 + + In introducing the guest of the evening, Mr. Lawrence said: + + “To-night the old faces appear once more amid new surroundings. + The place where last we met about the table has vanished, and + to-night we have our first Lotos dinner in a home that is all + our own. It is peculiarly fitting that the board should now be + spread in honor of one who has been a member of the club for + full a score of years, and it is a happy augury for the future + that our fellow-member whom we assemble to greet should be the + bearer of a most distinguished name in the world of letters; + for the Lotos Club is ever at its best when paying homage to + genius in literature or in art. Is there a civilized being who + has not heard the name of Mark Twain? We knew him long years + ago, before he came out of the boundless West, brimful of wit + and eloquence, with no reverence for anything, and went abroad + to educate the untutored European in the subtleties of the + American joke. The world has looked on and applauded while he + has broken many images. He has led us in imagination all over + the globe. With him as our guide we have traversed alike the + Mississippi and the Sea of Galilee. At his bidding we have + laughed at a thousand absurdities. By a laborious process of + reasoning he has convinced us that the Egyptian mummies are + actually dead. He has held us spellbound upon the plain at the + foot of the great Sphinx, and we have joined him in weeping + bitter tears at the tomb of Adam. To-night we greet him in the + flesh. What name is there in literature that can be likened to + his? Perhaps some of the distinguished gentlemen about this + table can tell us, but I know of none. Himself his only + parallel!” + </pre> + <p> + MR. PRESIDENT, GENTLEMEN, AND FELLOW-MEMBERS OF THE LOTOS CLUB,—I + have seldom in my lifetime listened to compliments so felicitously phrased + or so well deserved. I return thanks for them from a full heart and an + appreciative spirit, and I will say this in self-defence: While I am + charged with having no reverence for anything, I wish to say that I have + reverence for the man who can utter such truths, and I also have a deep + reverence and a sincere one for a club that can do such justice to me. To + be the chief guest of such a club is something to be envied, and if I read + your countenances rightly I am envied. I am glad to see this club in such + palatial quarters. I remember it twenty years ago when it was housed in a + stable. + </p> + <p> + Now when I was studying for the ministry there were two or three things + that struck my attention particularly. At the first banquet mentioned in + history that other prodigal son who came back from his travels was invited + to stand up and have his say. They were all there, his brethren, David and + Goliath, and—er, and if he had had such experience as I have had he + would have waited until those other people got through talking. He got up + and testified to all his failings. Now if he had waited before telling all + about his riotous living until the others had spoken he might not have + given himself away as he did, and I think that I would give myself away if + I should go on. I think I’d better wait until the others hand in their + testimony; then if it is necessary for me to make an explanation, I will + get up and explain, and if I cannot do that, I’ll deny it happened. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Later in the evening Mr. Clemens made another speech, replying + to a fire of short speeches by Charles Dudley Warner, Charles + A. Dana, Seth Low, General Porter, and many others, each + welcoming the guest of honor. +</pre> + <p> + I don’t see that I have a great deal to explain. I got off very well, + considering the opportunities that these other fellows had. I don’t see + that Mr. Low said anything against me, and neither did Mr. Dana. However, + I will say that I never heard so many lies told in one evening as were + told by Mr. McKelway—and I consider myself very capable; but even in + his case, when he got through, I was gratified by finding how much he + hadn’t found out. By accident he missed the very things that I didn’t want + to have said, and now, gentlemen, about Americanism. + </p> + <p> + I have been on the continent of Europe for two and a half years. I have + met many Americans there, some sojourning for a short time only, others + making protracted stays, and it has been very gratifying to me to find + that nearly all preserved their Americanism. I have found they all like to + see the Flag fly, and that their hearts rise when they see the Stars and + Stripes. I met only one lady who had forgotten the land of her birth and + glorified monarchical institutions. + </p> + <p> + I think it is a great thing to say that in two and a half years I met only + one person who had fallen a victim to the shams—I think we may call + them shams—of nobilities and of heredities. She was entirely lost in + them. After I had listened to her for a long time, I said to her: “At + least you must admit that we have one merit. We are not like the Chinese, + who refuse to allow their citizens who are tired of the country to leave + it. Thank God, we don’t!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0084" id="link2H_4_0084"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + COPYRIGHT + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + With Mr. Howells, Edward Everett Hale, Thomas Nelson Page, and + a number of other authors, Mr. Clemens appeared before the + committee December 6, 1906. The new Copyright Bill + contemplated an author’s copyright for the term of his life and + for fifty years thereafter, applying also for the benefit of + artists, musicians, and others, but the authors did most of the + talking. F. D. Millet made a speech for the artists, and John + Philip Sousa for the musicians. + + Mr. Clemens was the last speaker of the day, and its chief + feature. He made a speech, the serious parts of which created + a strong impression, and the humorous parts set the Senators + and Representatives in roars of laughter. +</pre> + <p> + I have read this bill. At least I have read such portions as I could + understand. Nobody but a practised legislator can read the bill and + thoroughly understand it, and I am not a practised legislator. + </p> + <p> + I am interested particularly and especially in the part of the bill which + concerns my trade. I like that extension of copyright life to the author’s + life and fifty years afterward. I think that would satisfy any reasonable + author, because it would take care of his children. Let the grandchildren + take care of themselves. That would take care of my daughters, and after + that I am not particular. I shall then have long been out of this + struggle, independent of it, indifferent to it. + </p> + <p> + It isn’t objectionable to me that all the trades and professions in the + United States are protected by the bill. I like that. They are all + important and worthy, and if we can take care of them under the Copyright + law I should like to see it done. I should like to see oyster culture + added, and anything else. + </p> + <p> + I am aware that copyright must have a limit, because that is required by + the Constitution of the United States, which sets aside the earlier + Constitution, which we call the decalogue. The decalogue says you shall + not take away from any man his profit. I don’t like to be obliged to use + the harsh term. What the decalogue really says is, “Thou shalt not steal,” + but I am trying to use more polite language. + </p> + <p> + The laws of England and America do take it away, do select but one class, + the people who create the literature of the land. They always talk + handsomely about the literature of the land, always what a fine, great, + monumental thing a great literature is, and in the midst of their + enthusiasm they turn around and do what they can to discourage it. + </p> + <p> + I know we must have a limit, but forty-two years is too much of a limit. I + am quite unable to guess why there should be a limit at all to the + possession of the product of a man’s labor. There is no limit to real + estate. + </p> + <p> + Doctor Hale has suggested that a man might just as well, after discovering + a coal-mine and working it forty-two years, have the Government step in + and take it away. + </p> + <p> + What is the excuse? It is that the author who produced that book has had + the profit of it long enough, and therefore the Government takes a profit + which does not belong to it and generously gives it to the 88,000,000 of + people. But it doesn’t do anything of the kind. It merely takes the + author’s property, takes his children’s bread, and gives the publisher + double profit. He goes on publishing the book and as many of his + confederates as choose to go into the conspiracy do so, and they rear + families in affluence. + </p> + <p> + And they continue the enjoyment of those ill-gotten gains generation after + generation forever, for they never die. In a few weeks or months or years + I shall be out of it, I hope under a monument. I hope I shall not be + entirely forgotten, and I shall subscribe to the monument myself. But I + shall not be caring what happens if there are fifty years left of my + copyright. My copyright produces annually a good deal more than I can use, + but my children can use it. I can get along; I know a lot of trades. But + that goes to my daughters, who can’t get along as well as I can because I + have carefully raised them as young ladies, who don’t know anything and + can’t do anything. I hope Congress will extend to them the charity which + they have failed to get from me. + </p> + <p> + Why, if a man who is not even mad, but only strenuous—strenuous + about race-suicide—should come to me and try to get me to use my + large political and ecclesiastical influence to get a bill passed by this + Congress limiting families to twenty-two children by one mother, I should + try to calm him down. I should reason with him. I should say to him, + “Leave it alone. Leave it alone and it will take care of itself. Only one + couple a year in the United States can reach that limit. If they have + reached that limit let them go right on. Let them have all the liberty + they want. In restricting that family to twenty-two children you are + merely conferring discomfort and unhappiness on one family per year in a + nation of 88,000,000, which is not worth while.” + </p> + <p> + It is the very same with copyright. One author per year produces a book + which can outlive the forty-two-year limit; that’s all. This nation can’t + produce two authors a year that can do it; the thing is demonstrably + impossible. All that the limited copyright can do is to take the bread out + of the mouths of the children of that one author per year. + </p> + <p> + I made an estimate some years ago, when I appeared before a committee of + the House of Lords, that we had published in this country since the + Declaration of Independence 220,000 books. They have all gone. They had + all perished before they were ten years old. It is only one book in 1000 + that can outlive the forty-two year limit. Therefore why put a limit at + all? You might as well limit the family to twenty-two children. + </p> + <p> + If you recall the Americans in the nineteenth century who wrote books that + lived forty-two years you will have to begin with Cooper; you can follow + with Washington Irving, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Edgar Allan Poe, and there + you have to wait a long time. You come to Emerson, and you have to stand + still and look further. You find Howells and T. B. Aldrich, and then your + numbers begin to run pretty thin, and you question if you can name twenty + persons in the United States who—in a whole century have written + books that would live forty-two years. Why, you could take them all and + put them on one bench there [pointing]. Add the wives and children and you + could put the result on, two or three more benches. + </p> + <p> + One hundred persons—that is the little, insignificant crowd whose + bread-and-butter is to be taken away for what purpose, for what profit to + anybody? You turn these few books into the hands of the pirate and of the + legitimate publisher, too, and they get the profit that should have gone + to the wife and children. + </p> + <p> + When I appeared before that committee of the House of Lords the chairman + asked me what limit I would propose. I said, “Perpetuity.” I could see + some resentment in his manner, and he said the idea was illogical, for the + reason that it has long ago been decided that there can be no such thing + as property in ideas. I said there was property in ideas before Queen + Anne’s time; they had perpetual copyright. He said, “What is a book? A + book is just built from base to roof on ideas, and there can be no + property in it.” + </p> + <p> + I said I wished he could mention any kind of property on this planet that + had a pecuniary value which was not derived from an idea or ideas. + </p> + <p> + He said real estate. I put a supposititious case, a dozen Englishmen who + travel through South Africa and camp out, and eleven of them see nothing + at all; they are mentally blind. But there is one in the party who knows + what this harbor means and what the lay of the land means. To him it means + that some day a railway will go through here, and there on that harbor a + great city will spring up. That is his idea. And he has another idea, + which is to go and trade his last bottle of Scotch whiskey and his last + horse-blanket to the principal chief of that region and buy a piece of + land the size of Pennsylvania. + </p> + <p> + That was the value of an idea that the day would come when the Cape to + Cairo Railway would be built. + </p> + <p> + Every improvement that is put upon the real estate is the result of an + idea in somebody’s head. The skyscraper is another idea; the railroad is + another; the telephone and all those things are merely symbols which + represent ideas. An andiron, a wash-tub, is the result of an idea that did + not exist before. + </p> + <p> + So if, as that gentleman said, a book does consist solely of ideas, that + is the best argument in the world that it is property, and should not be + under any limitation at all. We don’t ask for that. Fifty years from now + we shall ask for it. + </p> + <p> + I hope the bill will pass without any deleterious amendments. I do seem to + be extraordinarily interested in a whole lot of arts and things that I + have got nothing to do with. It is a part of my generous, liberal nature; + I can’t help it. I feel the same sort of charity to everybody that was + manifested by a gentleman who arrived at home at two o’clock in the + morning from the club and was feeling so perfectly satisfied with life, so + happy, and so comfortable, and there was his house weaving, weaving, + weaving around. He watched his chance, and by and by when the steps got in + his neighborhood he made a jump and climbed up and got on the portico. + </p> + <p> + And the house went on weaving and weaving and weaving, but he watched the + door, and when it came around his way he plunged through it. He got to the + stairs, and when he went up on all fours the house was so unsteady that he + could hardly make his way, but at last he got to the top and raised his + foot and put it on the top step. But only the toe hitched on the step, and + he rolled down and fetched up on the bottom step, with his arm around the + newel-post, and he said: + </p> + <p> + “God pity the poor sailors out at sea on a night like this.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0085" id="link2H_4_0085"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IN AID OF THE BLIND + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT A PUBLIC MEETING OF THE NEW YORK ASSOCIATION FOR + PROMOTING THE INTERESTS OF THE BLIND AT THE WALDORF ASTORIA, + MARCH 29, 1906 +</pre> + <p> + If you detect any awkwardness in my movements and infelicities in my + conduct I will offer the explanation that I never presided at a meeting of + any kind before in my life, and that I do find it out of my line. I + supposed I could do anything anybody else could, but I recognize that + experience helps, and I do feel the lack of that experience. I don’t feel + as graceful and easy as I ought to be in order to impress an audience. I + shall not pretend that I know how to umpire a meeting like this, and I + shall just take the humble place of the Essex band. + </p> + <p> + There was a great gathering in a small New England town, about twenty-five + years ago. I remember that circumstance because there was something that + happened at that time. It was a great occasion. They gathered in the + militia and orators and everybody from all the towns around. It was an + extraordinary occasion. + </p> + <p> + The little local paper threw itself into ecstasies of admiration and tried + to do itself proud from beginning to end. It praised the orators, the + militia, and all the bands that came from everywhere, and all this in + honest country newspaper detail, but the writer ran out of adjectives + toward the end. Having exhausted his whole magazine of praise and + glorification, he found he still had one band left over. He had to say + something about it, and he said: “The Essex band done the best it could.” + </p> + <p> + I am an Essex band on this occasion, and I am going to get through as well + as inexperience and good intentions will enable me. I have got all the + documents here necessary to instruct you in the objects and intentions of + this meeting and also of the association which has called the meeting. But + they are too voluminous. I could not pack those statistics into my head, + and I had to give it up. I shall have to just reduce all that mass of + statistics to a few salient facts. There are too many statistics and + figures for me. I never could do anything with figures, never had any + talent for mathematics, never accomplished anything in my efforts at that + rugged study, and to-day the only mathematics I know is multiplication, + and the minute I get away up in that, as soon as I reach nine times seven— + </p> + <p> + [Mr. Clemens lapsed into deep thought for a moment. He was trying to + figure out nine times seven, but it was a hopeless task, and he turned to + St. Clair McKelway, who sat near him. Mr. McKelway whispered the answer, + and the speaker resumed:] + </p> + <p> + I’ve got it now. It’s eighty-four. Well, I can get that far all right with + a little hesitation. After that I am uncertain, and I can’t manage a + statistic. + </p> + <p> + “This association for the—” + </p> + <p> + [Mr. Clemens was in another dilemma. Again he was obliged to turn to Mr. + McKelway.] + </p> + <p> + Oh yes, for promoting the interests of the blind. It’s a long name. If I + could I would write it out for you and let you take it home and study it, + but I don’t know how to spell it. And Mr. Carnegie is down in Virginia + somewhere. Well, anyway, the object of that association which has been + recently organized, five months ago, in fact, is in the hands of very, + very energetic, intelligent, and capable people, and they will push it to + success very surely, and all the more surely if you will give them a + little of your assistance out of your pockets. + </p> + <p> + The intention, the purpose, is to search out all the blind and find work + for them to do so that they may earn, their own bread. Now it is dismal + enough to be blind—it is dreary, dreary life at best, but it can be + largely ameliorated by finding something for these poor blind people to do + with their hands. The time passes so heavily that it is never day or night + with them, it is always night, and when they have to sit with folded hands + and with nothing to do to amuse or entertain or employ their minds, it is + drearier and drearier. + </p> + <p> + And then the knowledge they have that they must subsist on charity, and so + often reluctant charity, it would renew their lives if they could have + something to do with their hands and pass their time and at the same time + earn their bread, and know the sweetness of the bread which is the result + of the labor of one’s own hands. They need that cheer and pleasure. It is + the only way you can turn their night into day, to give them happy hearts, + the only thing you can put in the place of the blessed sun. That you can + do in the way I speak of. + </p> + <p> + Blind people generally who have seen the light know what it is to miss the + light. Those who have gone blind since they were twenty years old—their + lives are unendingly dreary. But they can be taught to use their hands and + to employ themselves at a great many industries. That association from + which this draws its birth in Cambridge, Massachusetts, has taught its + blind to make many things. They make them better than most people, and + more honest than people who have the use of their eyes. The goods they + make are readily salable. People like them. And so they are supporting + themselves, and it is a matter of cheer, cheer. They pass their time now + not too irksomely as they formerly did. + </p> + <p> + What this association needs and wants is $15,000. The figures are set + down, and what the money is for, and there is no graft in it or I would + not be here. And they hope to beguile that out of your pockets, and you + will find affixed to the programme an opportunity, that little blank which + you will fill out and promise so much money now or to-morrow or some time. + Then, there is another opportunity which is still better, and that is that + you shall subscribe an annual sum. + </p> + <p> + I have invented a good many useful things in my time, but never anything + better than that of getting money out of people who don’t want to part + with it. It is always for good objects, of course. This is the plan: When + you call upon a person to contribute to a great and good object, and you + think he should furnish about $1,000, he disappoints you as like as not. + Much the best way to work him to supply that thousand dollars is to split + it into parts and contribute, say a hundred dollars a year, or fifty, or + whatever the sum maybe. Let him contribute ten or twenty a year. He + doesn’t feel that, but he does feel it when you call upon him to + contribute a large amount. When you get used to it you would rather + contribute than borrow money. + </p> + <p> + I tried it in Helen Keller’s case. Mr. Hutton wrote me in 1896 or 1897 + when I was in London and said: “The gentleman who has been so liberal in + taking care of Helen Keller has died without making provision for her in + his will, and now they don’t know what to do.” They were proposing to + raise a fund, and he thought $50,000 enough to furnish an income of $2400 + or $2500 a year for the support of that wonderful girl and her wonderful + teacher, Miss Sullivan, now Mrs. Macy. I wrote to Mr. Hutton and said: “Go + on, get up your fund. It will be slow, but if you want quick work, I + propose this system,” the system I speak of, of asking people to + contribute such and such a sum from year to year and drop out whenever + they please, and he would find there wouldn’t be any difficulty, people + wouldn’t feel the burden of it. And he wrote back saying he had raised the + $2400 a year indefinitely by that system in a single afternoon. We would + like to do something just like that to-night. We will take as many checks + as you care to give. You can leave your donations in the big room outside. + </p> + <p> + I knew once what it was to be blind. I shall never forget that experience. + I have been as blind as anybody ever was for three or four hours, and the + sufferings that I endured and the mishaps and the accidents that are + burning in my memory make my sympathy rise when I feel for the blind and + always shall feel. I once went to Heidelberg on an excursion. I took a + clergyman along with me, the Rev. Joseph Twichell, of Hartford, who is + still among the living despite that fact. I always travel with clergymen + when I can. It is better for them, it is better for me. And any preacher + who goes out with me in stormy weather and without a lightning rod is a + good one. The Reverend Twichell is one of those people filled with + patience and endurance, two good ingredients for a man travelling with me, + so we got along very well together. In that old town they have not altered + a house nor built one in 1500 years. We went to the inn and they placed + Twichell and me in a most colossal bedroom, the largest I ever saw or + heard of. It was as big as this room. + </p> + <p> + I didn’t take much notice of the place. I didn’t really get my bearings. I + noticed Twichell got a German bed about two feet wide, the kind in which + you’ve got to lie on your edge, because there isn’t room to lie on your + back, and he was way down south in that big room, and I was way up north + at the other end of it, with a regular Sahara in between. + </p> + <p> + We went to bed. Twichell went to sleep, but then he had his conscience + loaded and it was easy for him to get to sleep. I couldn’t get to sleep. + It was one of those torturing kinds of lovely summer nights when you hear + various kinds of noises now and then. A mouse away off in the southwest. + You throw things at the mouse. That encourages the mouse. But I couldn’t + stand it, and about two o’clock I got up and thought I would give it up + and go out in the square where there was one of those tinkling fountains, + and sit on its brink and dream, full of romance. + </p> + <p> + I got out of bed, and I ought to have lit a candle, but I didn’t think of + it until it was too late. It was the darkest place that ever was. There + has never been darkness any thicker than that. It just lay in cakes. + </p> + <p> + I thought that before dressing I would accumulate my clothes. I pawed + around in the dark and found everything packed together on the floor + except one sock. I couldn’t get on the track of that sock. It might have + occurred to me that maybe it was in the wash. But I didn’t think of that. + I went excursioning on my hands and knees. Presently I thought, “I am + never going to find it; I’ll go back to bed again.” That is what I tried + to do during the next three hours. I had lost the bearings of that bed. I + was going in the wrong direction all the time. By-and-by I came in + collision with a chair and that encouraged me. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to me, as far as I could recollect, there was only a chair here + and there and yonder, five or six of them scattered over this territory, + and I thought maybe after I found that chair I might find the next one. + Well, I did. And I found another and another and another. I kept going + around on my hands and knees, having those sudden collisions, and finally + when I banged into another chair I almost lost my temper. And I raised up, + garbed as I was, not for public exhibition, right in front of a mirror + fifteen or sixteen feet high. + </p> + <p> + I hadn’t noticed the mirror; didn’t know it was there. And when I saw + myself in the mirror I was frightened out of my wits. I don’t allow any + ghosts to bite me, and I took up a chair and smashed at it. A million + pieces. Then I reflected. That’s the way I always do, and it’s + unprofitable unless a man has had much experience that way and has clear + judgment. And I had judgment, and I would have had to pay for that mirror + if I hadn’t recollected to say it was Twichell who broke it. + </p> + <p> + Then I got down, on my hands and knees and went on another exploring + expedition. + </p> + <p> + As far as I could remember there were six chairs in that Oklahoma, and one + table, a great big heavy table, not a good table to hit with your head + when rushing madly along. In the course of time I collided with + thirty-five chairs and tables enough to stock that dining-room out there. + It was a hospital for decayed furniture, and it was in a worse condition + when I got through with it. I went on and on, and at last got to a place + where I could feel my way up, and there was a shelf. I knew that wasn’t in + the middle of the room. Up to that time I was afraid I had gotten out of + the city. + </p> + <p> + I was very careful and pawed along that shelf, and there was a pitcher of + water about a foot high, and it was at the head of Twichell’s bed, but I + didn’t know it. I felt that pitcher going and I grabbed at it, but it + didn’t help any and came right down in Twichell’s face and nearly drowned + him. But it woke him up. I was grateful to have company on any terms. He + lit a match, and there I was, way down south when I ought to have been + back up yonder. My bed was out of sight it was so far away. You needed a + telescope to find it. Twichell comforted me and I scrubbed him off and we + got sociable. + </p> + <p> + But that night wasn’t wasted. I had my pedometer on my leg. Twichell and I + were in a pedometer match. Twichell had longer legs than I. The only way I + could keep up was to wear my pedometer to bed. I always walk in my sleep, + and on this occasion I gained sixteen miles on him. After all, I never + found that sock. I never have seen it from that day to this. But that + adventure taught me what it is to be blind. That was one of the most + serious occasions of my whole life, yet I never can speak of it without + somebody thinking it isn’t serious. You try it and see how serious it is + to be as the blind are and I was that night. + </p> + <p> + [Mr. Clemens read several letters of regret. He then introduced Joseph H. + Choate, saying:] + </p> + <p> + It is now my privilege to present to you Mr. Choate. I don’t have to + really introduce him. I don’t have to praise him, or to flatter him. I + could say truly that in the forty-seven years I have been familiarly + acquainted with him he has always been the handsomest man America has ever + produced. And I hope and believe he will hold the belt forty-five years + more. He has served his country ably, faithfully, and brilliantly. He + stands at the summit, at the very top in the esteem and regard of his + countrymen, and if I could say one word which would lift him any higher in + his countrymen’s esteem and affection, I would say that word whether it + was true or not. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0086" id="link2H_4_0086"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DR. MARK TWAIN, FARMEOPATH + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE ANNUAL DINNER OF THE NEW YORK POST-GRADUATE + MEDICAL SCHOOL AND HOSPITAL, JANUARY 21, 1909 + + The president, Dr. George N. Miller, in introducing Mr. + Clemens, referred to his late experience with burglars. +</pre> + <p> + GENTLEMEN AND DOCTORS,—I am glad to be among my own kind to-night. I + was once a sharpshooter, but now I practise a much higher and equally as + deadly a profession. It wasn’t so very long ago that I became a member of + your cult, and for the time I’ve been in the business my record is one + that can’t be scoffed at. + </p> + <p> + As to the burglars, I am perfectly familiar with these people. I have + always had a good deal to do with burglars—not officially, but + through their attentions to me. I never suffered anything at the hands of + a burglar. They have invaded my house time and time again. They never got + anything. Then those people who burglarized our house in September—we + got back the plated ware they took off, we jailed them, and I have been + sorry ever since. They did us a great service they scared off all the + servants in the place. + </p> + <p> + I consider the Children’s Theatre, of which I am president, and the + Post-Graduate Medical School as the two greatest institutions in the + country. This school, in bringing its twenty thousand physicians from all + parts of the country, bringing them up to date, and sending them back with + renewed confidence, has surely saved hundreds of thousands of lives which + otherwise would have been lost. + </p> + <p> + I have been practising now for seven months. When I settled on my farm in + Connecticut in June I found the Community very thinly settled—and + since I have been engaged in practice it has become more thinly settled + still. This gratifies me, as indicating that I am making an impression on + my community. I suppose it is the same with all of you. + </p> + <p> + I have always felt that I ought to do something for you, and so I + organized a Redding (Connecticut) branch of the Post-Graduate School. I am + only a country farmer up there, but I am doing the best I can. + </p> + <p> + Of course, the practice of medicine and surgery in a remote country + district has its disadvantages, but in my case I am happy in a division of + responsibility. I practise in conjunction with a horse-doctor, a sexton, + and an undertaker. The combination is air-tight, and once a man is + stricken in our district escape is impossible for him. + </p> + <p> + These four of us—three in the regular profession and the fourth an + undertaker—are all good men. There is Bill Ferguson, the Redding + undertaker. Bill is there in every respect. He is a little lukewarm on + general practice, and writes his name with a rubber stamp. Like my old + Southern, friend, he is one of the finest planters anywhere. + </p> + <p> + Then there is Jim Ruggles, the horse-doctor. Ruggles is one of the best + men I have got. He also is not much on general medicine, but he is a fine + horse-doctor. Ferguson doesn’t make any money off him. + </p> + <p> + You see, the combination started this way. When I got up to Redding and + had become a doctor, I looked around to see what my chances were for + aiding in the great work. The first thing I did was to determine what + manner of doctor I was to be. Being a Connecticut farmer, I naturally + consulted my farmacopia, and at once decided to become a farmeopath. + </p> + <p> + Then I got circulating about, and got in touch with Ferguson and Ruggles. + Ferguson joined readily in my ideas, but Ruggles kept saying that, while + it was all right for an undertaker to get aboard, he couldn’t see where it + helped horses. + </p> + <p> + Well, we started to find out what was the trouble with the community, and + it didn’t take long to find out that there was just one disease, and that + was race-suicide. And driving about the country-side I was told by my + fellow-farmers that it was the only rational human and valuable disease. + But it is cutting into our profits so that we’ll either have to stop it or + we’ll have to move. + </p> + <p> + We’ve had some funny experiences up there in Redding. Not long ago a + fellow came along with a rolling gait and a distressed face. We asked him + what was the matter. We always hold consultations on every case, as there + isn’t business enough for four. He said he didn’t know, but that he was a + sailor, and perhaps that might help us to give a diagnosis. We treated him + for that, and I never saw a man die more peacefully. + </p> + <p> + That same afternoon my dog Tige treed an African gentleman. We chained up + the dog, and then the gentleman came down and said he had appendicitis. We + asked him if he wanted to be cut open, and he said yes, that he’d like to + know if there was anything in it. So we cut him open and found nothing in + him but darkness. So we diagnosed his case as infidelity, because he was + dark inside. Tige is a very clever dog, and aids us greatly. + </p> + <p> + The other day a patient came to me and inquired if I was old Doctor + Clemens— + </p> + <p> + As a practitioner I have given a great deal of my attention to Bright’s + disease. I have made some rules for treating it that may be valuable. + Listen: + </p> + <p> + Rule 1. When approaching the bedside of one whom an all-wise President—I + mean an all-wise Providence—well, anyway, it’s the same thing—has + seen fit to afflict with disease—well, the rule is simple, even if + it is old-fashioned. + </p> + <p> + Rule 2. I’ve forgotten just what it is, but— + </p> + <p> + Rule 3. This is always indispensable: Bleed your patient. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0087" id="link2H_4_0087"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MISSOURI UNIVERSITY SPEECH + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS DELIVERED JUNE 4, 1902, AT COLUMBIA, MO. + + When the name of Samuel L. Clemens was called the humorist + stepped forward, put his hand to his hair, and apparently + hesitated. There was a dead silence for a moment. Suddenly + the entire audience rose and stood in silence. Some one began + to spell out the word Missouri with an interval between the + letters. All joined in. Then the house again became silent. + Mr. Clemens broke the spell: +</pre> + <p> + As you are all standing [he drawled in his characteristic voice], I guess, + I suppose I had better stand too. + </p> + <p> + [Then came a laugh and loud cries for a speech. As the great humorist + spoke of his recent visit to Hannibal, his old home, his voice trembled.] + </p> + <p> + You cannot know what a strain it was on my emotions [he said]. In fact, + when I found myself shaking hands with persons I had not seen for fifty + years and looking into wrinkled faces that were so young and joyous when I + last saw them, I experienced emotions that I had never expected, and did + not know were in me. I was profoundly moved and saddened to think that + this was the last time, perhaps, that I would ever behold those kind old + faces and dear old scenes of childhood. + </p> + <p> + [The humorist then changed to a lighter mood, and for a time the audience + was in a continual roar of laughter. He was particularly amused at the + eulogy on himself read by Gardiner Lathrop in conferring the degree.] He + has a fine opportunity to distinguish himself [said Mr. Clemens] by + telling the truth about me. + </p> + <p> + I have seen it stated in print that as a boy I had been guilty of stealing + peaches, apples, and watermelons. I read a story to this effect very + closely not long ago, and I was convinced of one thing, which was that the + man who wrote it was of the opinion that it was wrong to steal, and that I + had not acted right in doing so. I wish now, however, to make an honest + statement, which is that I do not believe, in all my checkered career, I + stole a ton of peaches. + </p> + <p> + One night I stole—I mean I removed—a watermelon from a wagon + while the owner was attending to another customer. I crawled off to a + secluded spot, where I found that it was green. It was the greenest melon + in the Mississippi Valley. Then I began to reflect. I began to be sorry. I + wondered what George Washington would have done had he been in my place. I + thought a long time, and then suddenly felt that strange feeling which + comes to a man with a good resolution, and I took up that watermelon and + took it back to its owner. I handed him the watermelon and told him to + reform. He took my lecture much to heart, and, when he gave me a good one + in place of the green melon, I forgave him. + </p> + <p> + I told him that I would still be a customer of his, and that I cherished + no ill-feeling because of the incident—that would remain green in my + memory. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0088" id="link2H_4_0088"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BUSINESS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The alumni of Eastman College gave their annual banquet, + March 30, 1901, at the Y. M. C. A. Building. Mr. James G. + Cannon, of the Fourth National Bank, made the first speech of + the evening, after which Mr. Clemens was introduced by Mr. + Bailey as the personal friend of Tom Sawyer, who was one of the + types of successful business men. +</pre> + <p> + MR. CANNON has furnished me with texts enough to last as slow a speaker as + myself all the rest of the night. I took exception to the introducing of + Mr. Cannon as a great financier, as if he were the only great financier + present. I am a financier. But my methods are not the same as Mr. + Cannon’s. + </p> + <p> + I cannot say that I have turned out the great business man that I thought + I was when I began life. But I am comparatively young yet, and may learn. + I am rather inclined to believe that what troubled me was that I got the + big-head early in the game. I want to explain to you a few points of + difference between the principles of business as I see them and those that + Mr. Cannon believes in. + </p> + <p> + He says that the primary rule of business success is loyalty to your + employer. That’s all right—as a theory. What is the matter with + loyalty to yourself? As nearly as I can understand Mr. Cannon’s methods, + there is one great drawback to them. He wants you to work a great deal. + Diligence is a good thing, but taking things easy is much more-restful. My + idea is that the employer should be the busy man, and the employee the + idle one. The employer should be the worried man, and the employee the + happy one. And why not? He gets the salary. My plan is to get another man + to do the work for me. In that there’s more repose. What I want is repose + first, last, and all the time. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Cannon says that there are three cardinal rules of business success; + they are diligence, honesty, and truthfulness. Well, diligence is all + right. Let it go as a theory. Honesty is the best policy—when there + is money in it. But truthfulness is one of the most dangerous—why, + this man is misleading you. + </p> + <p> + I had an experience to-day with my wife which illustrates this. I was + acknowledging a belated invitation to another dinner for this evening, + which seemed to have been sent about ten days ago. It only reached me this + morning. I was mortified at the discourtesy into which I had been brought + by this delay, and wondered what was being thought of me by my hosts. As I + had accepted your invitation, of course I had to send regrets to my other + friends. + </p> + <p> + When I started to write this note my wife came up and stood looking over + my shoulder. Women always want to know what is going on. Said she “Should + not that read in the third person?” I conceded that it should, put aside + what I was writing, and commenced over again. That seemed to satisfy her, + and so she sat down and let me proceed. I then—finished my first + note—and so sent what I intended. I never could have done this if I + had let my wife know the truth about it. Here is what I wrote: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + TO THE OHIO SOCIETY,—I have at this moment received a most kind + invitation (eleven days old) from Mr. Southard, president; and a + like one (ten days old) from Mr. Bryant, president of the Press + Club. I thank the society cordially for the compliment of these + invitations, although I am booked elsewhere and cannot come. + + But, oh, I should like to know the name of the Lightning Express by + which they were forwarded; for I owe a friend a dozen chickens, and + I believe it will be cheaper to send eggs instead, and let them + develop on the road. + Sincerely yours, + Mark TWAIN. +</pre> + <p> + I want to tell you of some of my experiences in business, and then I will + be in a position to lay down one general rule for the guidance of those + who want to succeed in business. My first effort was about twenty-five + years ago. I took hold of an invention—I don’t know now what it was + all about, but some one came to me and told me it was a good thing, and + that there was lots of money in it. He persuaded me to invest $15,000, and + I lived up to my beliefs by engaging a man to develop it. To make a long + story short, I sunk $40,000 in it. + </p> + <p> + Then I took up the publication of a book. I called in a publisher and said + to him: “I want you to publish this book along lines which I shall lay + down. I am the employer, and you are the employee. I am going to show them + some new kinks in the publishing business. And I want you to draw on me + for money as you go along,” which he did. He drew on me for $56,000. Then + I asked him to take the book and call it off. But he refused to do that. + </p> + <p> + My next venture was with a machine for doing something or other. I knew + less about that than I did about the invention. But I sunk $170,000 in the + business, and I can’t for the life of me recollect what it was the machine + was to do. + </p> + <p> + I was still undismayed. You see, one of the strong points about my + business life was that I never gave up. I undertook to publish General + Grant’s book, and made $140,000 in six months. My axiom is, to succeed in + business: avoid my example. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0089" id="link2H_4_0089"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CARNEGIE THE BENEFACTOR + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + At the dinner given in honor of Andrew Carnegie by the Lotos + Club, March 17, 1909, Mr. Clemens appeared in a white suit from + head to feet. He wore a white double-breasted coat, white + trousers, and white shoes. The only relief was a big black + cigar, which he confidentially informed the company was not + from his usual stack bought at $3 per barrel. +</pre> + <p> + The State of Missouri has for its coat of arms a barrel-head with two + Missourians, one on each side of it, and mark the motto—“United We + Stand, Divided We Fall.” Mr. Carnegie, this evening, has suffered from + compliments. It is interesting to hear what people will say about a man. + Why, at the banquet given by this club in my honor, Mr. Carnegie had the + inspiration for which the club is now honoring him. If Dunfermline + contributed so much to the United States in contributing Mr. Carnegie, + what would have happened if all Scotland had turned out? These Dunfermline + folk have acquired advantages in coming to America. + </p> + <p> + Doctor McKelway paid the top compliment, the cumulation, when he said of + Mr. Carnegie: + </p> + <p> + “There is a man who wants to pay more taxes than he is charged.” Richard + Watson Gilder did very well for a poet. He advertised his magazine. He + spoke of hiring Mr. Carnegie—the next thing he will be trying to + hire me. + </p> + <p> + If I undertook to pay compliments I would do it stronger than any + others have done it, for what Mr. Carnegie wants are strong compliments. + Now, the other side of seventy, I have preserved, as my chiefest virtue, + modesty. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0090" id="link2H_4_0090"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ON POETRY, VERACITY, AND SUICIDE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT A DINNER OF THE MANHATTAN DICKENS FELLOWSHIP, + NEW YORK CITY, FEBRUARY 7, 1906 + + This dinner was in commemoration of the ninety-fourth + anniversary of the birth of Charles Dickens. On an other + occasion Mr. Clemens told the same story with variations and a + different conclusion to the University Settlement Society. +</pre> + <p> + I always had taken an interest in young people who wanted to become poets. + I remember I was particularly interested in one budding poet when I was a + reporter. His name was Butter. + </p> + <p> + One day he came to me and said, disconsolately, that he was going to + commit suicide—he was tired of life, not being able to express his + thoughts in poetic form. Butter asked me what I thought of the idea. + </p> + <p> + I said I would; that it was a good idea. “You can do me a friendly turn. + You go off in a private place and do it there, and I’ll get it all. You do + it, and I’ll do as much for you some time.” + </p> + <p> + At first he determined to drown himself. Drowning is so nice and clean, + and writes up so well in a newspaper. + </p> + <p> + But things ne’er do go smoothly in weddings, suicides, or courtships. Only + there at the edge of the water, where Butter was to end himself, lay a + life-preserver—a big round canvas one, which would float after the + scrap-iron was soaked out of it. + </p> + <p> + Butter wouldn’t kill himself with the life-preserver in sight, and so I + had an idea. I took it to a pawnshop, and [soaked] it for a revolver: The + pawnbroker didn’t think much of the exchange, but when I explained the + situation he acquiesced. We went up on top of a high building, and this is + what happened to the poet: + </p> + <p> + He put the revolver to his forehead and blew a tunnel straight through his + head. The tunnel was about the size of your finger. You could look right + through it. The job was complete; there was nothing in it. + </p> + <p> + Well, after that that man never could write prose, but he could write + poetry. He could write it after he had blown his brains out. There is lots + of that talent all over the country, but the trouble is they don’t develop + it. + </p> + <p> + I am suffering now from the fact that I, who have told the truth a good + many times in my life, have lately received more letters than anybody else + urging me to lead a righteous life. I have more friends who want to see me + develop on a high level than anybody else. + </p> + <p> + Young John D. Rockefeller, two weeks ago, taught his Bible class all about + veracity, and why it was better that everybody should always keep a + plentiful supply on hand. Some of the letters I have received suggest that + I ought to attend his class and learn, too. Why, I know Mr. Rockefeller, + and he is a good fellow. He is competent in many ways to teach a Bible + class, but when it comes to veracity he is only thirty-five years old. I’m + seventy years old. I have been familiar with veracity twice as long as he. + </p> + <p> + And the story about George Washington and his little hatchet has also been + suggested to me in these letters—in a fugitive way, as if I needed + some of George Washington and his hatchet in my constitution. Why, dear + me, they overlook the real point in that story. The point is not the one + that is usually suggested, and you can readily see that. + </p> + <p> + The point is not that George said to his father, “Yes, father, I cut down + the cheery-tree; I can’t tell a lie,” but that the little boy—only + seven years old—should have his sagacity developed under such + circumstances. He was a boy wise beyond his years. His conduct then was a + prophecy of later years. Yes, I think he was the most remarkable man the + country ever produced-up to my time, anyway. + </p> + <p> + Now then, little George realized that circumstantial evidence was against + him. He knew that his father would know from the size of the chips that no + full-grown hatchet cut that tree down, and that no man would have haggled + it so. He knew that his father would send around the plantation and + inquire for a small boy with a hatchet, and he had the wisdom to come out + and confess it. Now, the idea that his father was overjoyed when he told + little George that he would rather have him cut down, a thousand + cheery-trees than tell a lie is all nonsense. What did he really mean? + Why, that he was absolutely astonished that he had a son who had the + chance to tell a lie and didn’t. + </p> + <p> + I admire old George—if that was his name—for his discernment. + He knew when he said that his son couldn’t tell a lie that he was + stretching it a good deal. He wouldn’t have to go to John D. Rockefeller’s + Bible class to find that out. The way the old George Washington story goes + down it doesn’t do anybody any good. It only discourages people who can + tell a lie. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0091" id="link2H_4_0091"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WELCOME HOME + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE DINNER IN HIS HONOR AT THE LOTOS CLUB, + NOVEMBER 10, 1900 + + In August, 1895, just before sailing for Australia, Mr. Clemens + issued the following statement: + </pre> + <p> + “It has been reported that I sacrificed, for the benefit of the creditors, + the property of the publishing firm whose financial backer I was, and that + I am now lecturing for my own benefit. + </p> + <p> + “This is an error. I intend the lectures, as well as the property, for the + creditors. The law recognizes no mortgage on a man’s brains, and a + merchant who has given up all he has may take advantage of the laws of + insolvency and may start free again for himself. But I am not a business + man, and honor is a harder master than the law. It cannot compromise for + less than one hundred cents on a dollar, and its debts are never outlawed. + </p> + <p> + “I had a two-thirds interest in the publishing firm whose capital I + furnished. If the firm had prospered I would have expected to collect + two-thirds of the profits. As it is, I expect to pay all the debts. My + partner has no resources, and I do not look for assistance to my wife, + whose contributions in cash from her own means have nearly equalled the + claims of all the creditors combined. She has taken nothing; on the + contrary, she has helped and intends to help me to satisfy the obligations + due to the rest of the creditors. + </p> + <p> + “It is my intention to ask my creditors to accept that as a legal + discharge, and trust to my honor to pay the other fifty per cent. as fast + as I can earn it. From my reception thus far on my lecturing tour, I am + confident that if I live I can pay off the last debt within four years. + </p> + <p> + “After which, at the age of sixty-four, I can make a fresh and + unincumbered start in life. I am going to Australia, India, and South + Africa, and next year I hope to make a tour of the great cities of the + United States.” + </p> + <p> + I thank you all out of my heart for this fraternal welcome, and it seems + almost too fine, almost too magnificent, for a humble Missourian such as I + am, far from his native haunts on the banks of the Mississippi; yet my + modesty is in a degree fortified by observing that I am not the only + Missourian who has been honored here to-night, for I see at this very + table-here is a Missourian [indicating Mr. McKelway], and there is a + Missourian [indicating Mr. Depew], and there is another Missourian—and + Hendrix and Clemens; and last but not least, the greatest Missourian of + them all—here he sits—Tom Reed, who has always concealed his + birth till now. And since I have been away I know what has been happening + in his case: he has deserted politics, and now is leading a creditable + life. He has reformed, and God prosper him; and I judge, by a remark which + he made up-stairs awhile ago, that he had found a new business that is + utterly suited to his make and constitution, and all he is doing now is + that he is around raising the average of personal beauty. + </p> + <p> + But I am grateful to the president for the kind words which he has said of + me, and it is not for me to say whether these praises were deserved or + not. I prefer to accept them just as they stand, without concerning myself + with the statistics upon which they have been built, but only with that + large matter, that essential matter, the good-fellowship, the kindliness, + the magnanimity, and generosity that prompted their utterance. Well, many + things have happened since I sat here before, and now that I think of it, + the president’s reference to the debts which were left by the bankrupt + firm of Charles L. Webster & Co. gives me an opportunity to say a word + which I very much wish to say, not for myself, but for ninety-five men and + women whom I shall always hold in high esteem and in pleasant remembrance—the + creditors of that firm. They treated me well; they treated me handsomely. + There were ninety-six of them, and by not a finger’s weight did + ninety-five of them add to the burden of that time for me. Ninety-five out + of the ninety-six—they didn’t indicate by any word or sign that they + were anxious about their money. They treated me well, and I shall not + forget it; I could not forget it if I wanted to. Many of them said, “Don’t + you worry, don’t you hurry”; that’s what they said. Why, if I could have + that kind of creditors always, and that experience, I would recognize it + as a personal loss to be out of debt. I owe those ninety-five creditors a + debt of homage, and I pay it now in such measure as one may pay so fine a + debt in mere words. Yes, they said that very thing. I was not personally + acquainted with ten of them, and yet they said, “Don’t you worry, and + don’t you hurry.” I know that phrase by heart, and if all the other music + should perish out of the world it would still sing to me. I appreciate + that; I am glad to say this word; people say so much about me, and they + forget those creditors. They were handsomer than I was—or Tom Reed. + </p> + <p> + Oh, you have been doing many things in this time that I have been absent; + you have done lots of things, some that are well worth remembering, too. + Now, we have fought a righteous war since I have gone, and that is rare in + history—a righteous war is so rare that it is almost unknown in + history; but by the grace of that war we set Cuba free, and we joined her + to those three or four nations that exist on this earth; and we started + out to set those poor Filipinos free, too, and why, why, why that most + righteous purpose of ours has apparently miscarried I suppose I never + shall know. + </p> + <p> + But we have made a most creditable record in China in these days—our + sound and level-headed administration has made a most creditable record + over there, and there are some of the Powers that cannot say that by any + means. The Yellow Terror is threatening this world to-day. It is looming + vast and ominous on that distant horizon. I do not know what is going to + be the result of that Yellow Terror, but our government has had no hand in + evoking it, and let’s be happy in that and proud of it. + </p> + <p> + We have nursed free silver, we watched by its cradle; we have done the + best we could to raise that child, but those pestiferous Republicans have—well, + they keep giving it the measles every chance they get, and we never shall + raise that child. Well, that’s no matter—there’s plenty of other + things to do, and we must think of something else. Well, we have tried a + President four years, criticised him and found fault with him the whole + time, and turned around a day or two ago with votes enough to spare to + elect another. O consistency! consistency! thy name—I don’t know + what thy name is—Thompson will do—any name will do—but + you see there is the fact, there is the consistency. Then we have tried + for governor an illustrious Rough Rider, and we liked him so much in that + great office that now we have made him Vice-President—not in order + that that office shall give him distinction, but that he may confer + distinction upon that office. And it’s needed, too—it’s needed. And + now, for a while anyway, we shall not be stammering and embarrassed when a + stranger asks us, “What is the name of the Vice-President?” This one is + known; this one is pretty well known, pretty widely known, and in some + quarters favorably. I am not accustomed to dealing in these fulsome + compliments, and I am probably overdoing it a little; but—well, my + old affectionate admiration for Governor Roosevelt has probably betrayed + me into the complimentary excess; but I know him, and you know him; and if + you give him rope enough—I mean if—oh yes, he will justify + that compliment; leave it just as it is. And now we have put in his place + Mr. Odell, another Rough Rider, I suppose; all the fat things go to that + profession now. Why, I could have been a Rough Rider myself if I had known + that this political Klondike was going to open up, and I would have been a + Rough Rider if I could have gone to war on an automobile but not on a + horse! No, I know the horse too well; I have known the horse in war and in + peace, and there is no place where a horse is comfortable. The horse has + too many caprices, and he is too much given to initiative. He invents too + many new ideas. No, I don’t want anything to do with a horse. + </p> + <p> + And then we have taken Chauncey Depew out of a useful and active life and + made him a Senator—embalmed him, corked him up. And I am not + grieving. That man has said many a true thing about me in his time, and I + always said something would happen to him. Look at that [pointing to Mr. + Depew] gilded mummy! He has made my life a sorrow to me at many a banquet + on both sides of the ocean, and now he has got it. Perish the hand that + pulls that cork! + </p> + <p> + All these things have happened, all these things have come to pass, while + I have been away, and it just shows how little a Mugwump can be missed in + a cold, unfeeling world, even when he is the last one that is left—a + GRAND OLD PARTY all by himself. And there is another thing that has + happened, perhaps the most imposing event of them all: the institution + called the Daughters of the—Crown—the Daughters of the Royal + Crown—has established itself and gone into business. Now, there’s an + American idea for you; there’s an idea born of God knows what kind of + specialized insanity, but not softening of the brain—you cannot + soften a thing that doesn’t exist—the Daughters of the Royal Crown! + Nobody eligible but American descendants of Charles II. Dear me, how the + fancy product of that old harem still holds out! + </p> + <p> + Well, I am truly glad to foregather with you again, and partake of the + bread and salt of this hospitable house once more. Seven years ago, when I + was your guest here, when I was old and despondent, you gave me the grip + and the word that lift a man up and make him glad to be alive; and now I + come back from my exile young again, fresh and alive, and ready to begin + life once more, and your welcome puts the finishing touch upon my restored + youth and makes it real to me, and not a gracious dream that must vanish + with the morning. I thank you. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0092" id="link2H_4_0092"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + AN UNDELIVERED SPEECH + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The steamship St. Paul was to have been launched from Cramp’s + shipyard in Philadelphia on March 25, 1895. After the + launching a luncheon was to have been given, at which Mr. + Clemens was to make a speech. Just before the final word was + given a reporter asked Mr. Clemens for a copy of his speech to + be delivered at the luncheon. To facilitate the work of the + reporter he loaned him a typewritten copy of the speech. It + happened, however, that when the blocks were knocked away the + big ship refused to budge, and no amount of labor could move + her an inch. She had stuck fast upon the ways. As a result, + the launching was postponed for a week or two; but in the mean + time Mr. Clemens had gone to Europe. Years after a reporter + called on Mr. Clemens and submitted the manuscript of the + speech, which was as follows: +</pre> + <p> + Day after to-morrow I sail for England in a ship of this line, the Paris. + It will be my fourteenth crossing in three years and a half. Therefore, my + presence here, as you see, is quite natural, quite commercial. I am + interested in ships. They interest me more now than hotels do. When a new + ship is launched I feel a desire to go and see if she will be good + quarters for me to live in, particularly if she belongs to this line, for + it is by this line that I have done most of my ferrying. + </p> + <p> + People wonder why I go so much. Well, I go partly for my health, partly to + familiarize myself with the road. I have gone over the same road so many + times now that I know all the whales that belong along the route, and + latterly it is an embarrassment to me to meet them, for they do not look + glad to see me, but annoyed, and they seem to say: “Here is this old + derelict again.” + </p> + <p> + Earlier in life this would have pained me and made me ashamed, but I am + older now, and when I am behaving myself, and doing right, I do not care + for a whale’s opinion about me. When we are young we generally estimate an + opinion by the size of the person that holds it, but later we find that + that is an uncertain rule, for we realize that there are times when a + hornet’s opinion disturbs us more than an emperor’s. + </p> + <p> + I do not mean that I care nothing at all for a whale’s opinion, for that + would be going to too great a length. Of course, it is better to have the + good opinion of a whale than his disapproval; but my position is that if + you cannot have a whale’s good opinion, except at some sacrifice of + principle or personal dignity, it is better to try to live without it. + That is my idea about whales. + </p> + <p> + Yes, I have gone over that same route so often that I know my way without + a compass, just by the waves. I know all the large waves and a good many + of the small ones. Also the sunsets. I know every sunset and where it + belongs just by its color. Necessarily, then, I do not make the passage + now for scenery. That is all gone by. + </p> + <p> + What I prize most is safety, and in the second place swift transit and + handiness. These are best furnished, by the American line, whose + watertight compartments have no passage through them; no doors to be left + open, and consequently no way for water to get from one of them to another + in time of collision. If you nullify the peril which collisions threaten + you with, you nullify the only very serious peril which attends voyages in + the great liners of our day, and makes voyaging safer than staying at + home. + </p> + <p> + When the Paris was half-torn to pieces some years ago, enough of the + Atlantic ebbed and flowed through one end of her, during her long agony, + to sink the fleets of the world if distributed among them; but she floated + in perfect safety, and no life was lost. In time of collision the rock of + Gibraltar is not safer than the Paris and other great ships of this line. + This seems to be the only great line in the world that takes a passenger + from metropolis to metropolis without the intervention of tugs and barges + or bridges—takes him through without breaking bulk, so to speak. + </p> + <p> + On the English side he lands at a dock; on the dock a special train is + waiting; in an hour and three-quarters he is in London. Nothing could be + handier. If your journey were from a sand-pit on our side to a lighthouse + on the other, you could make it quicker by other lines, but that is not + the case. The journey is from the city of New York to the city of London, + and no line can do that journey quicker than this one, nor anywhere near + as conveniently and handily. And when the passenger lands on our side he + lands on the American side of the river, not in the provinces. As a very + learned man said on the last voyage (he is head quartermaster of the New + York land garboard streak of the middle watch), + </p> + <p> + “When we land a passenger on the American side there’s nothing betwix him + and his hotel but hell and the hackman.” + </p> + <p> + I am glad, with you and the nation, to welcome the new ship. She is + another pride, another consolation, for a great country whose mighty + fleets have all vanished, and which has almost forgotten what it is to + fly its flag to sea. I am not sure as to which St. Paul she is named for. + Some think it is the one that is on the upper Mississippi, but the head + quartermaster told me it was the one that killed Goliath. But it is not + important. No matter which it is, let us give her hearty welcome and + godspeed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0093" id="link2H_4_0093"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SIXTY-SEVENTH BIRTHDAY + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + AT THE METROPOLITAN CLUB, NEW YORK, NOVEMBER 28, 1902 + + Address at a dinner given in honor of Mr. Clemens by Colonel + Harvey, President of Harper & Brothers. +</pre> + <p> + I think I ought to be allowed to talk as long as I want to, for the reason + that I have cancelled all my winter’s engagements of every kind, for good + and sufficient reasons, and am making no new engagements for this winter, + and, therefore, this is the only chance I shall have to disembowel my + skull for a year—close the mouth in that portrait for a year. I want + to offer thanks and homage to the chairman for this innovation which he + has introduced here, which is an improvement, as I consider it, on the + old-fashioned style of conducting occasions like this. That was bad that + was a bad, bad, bad arrangement. Under that old custom the chairman got up + and made a speech, he introduced the prisoner at the bar, and covered him + all over with compliments, nothing but compliments, not a thing but + compliments, never a slur, and sat down and left that man to get up and + talk without a text. You cannot talk on compliments; that is not a text. + No modest person, and I was born one, can talk on compliments. A man gets + up and is filled to the eyes with happy emotions, but his tongue is tied; + he has nothing to say; he is in the condition of Doctor Rice’s friend who + came home drunk and explained it to his wife, and his wife said to him, + “John, when you have drunk all the whiskey you want, you ought to ask for + sarsaparilla.” He said, “Yes, but when I have drunk all the whiskey I want + I can’t say sarsaparilla.” And so I think it is much better to leave a man + unmolested until the testimony and pleadings are all in. Otherwise he is + dumb—he is at the sarsaparilla stage. + </p> + <p> + Before I get to the higgledy-piggledy point, as Mr. Howells suggested I + do, I want to thank you, gentlemen, for this very high honor you are doing + me, and I am quite competent to estimate it at its value. I see around me + captains of all the illustrious industries, most distinguished men; there + are more than fifty here, and I believe I know thirty-nine of them well. I + could probably borrow money from—from the others, anyway. It is a + proud thing to me, indeed, to see such a distinguished company gather here + on such an occasion as this, when there is no foreign prince to be feted—when + you have come here not to do honor to hereditary privilege and ancient + lineage, but to do reverence to mere moral excellence and elemental + veracity-and, dear me, how old it seems to make me! I look around me and I + see three or four persons I have known so many, many years. I have known + Mr. Secretary Hay—John Hay, as the nation and the rest of his + friends love to call him—I have known John Hay and Tom Reed and the + Reverend Twichell close upon thirty-six years. Close upon thirty-six years + I have known those venerable men. I have known Mr. Howells nearly + thirty-four years, and I knew Chauncey Depew before he could walk + straight, and before he learned to tell the truth. Twenty-seven years ago, + I heard him make the most noble and eloquent and beautiful speech that has + ever fallen from even his capable lips. Tom Reed said that my principal + defect was inaccuracy of statement. Well, suppose that that is true. + What’s the use of telling the truth all the time? I never tell the truth + about Tom Reed—but that is his defect, truth; he speaks the truth + always. Tom Reed has a good heart, and he has a good intellect, but he + hasn’t any judgment. Why, when Tom Reed was invited to lecture to the + Ladies’ Society for the Procreation or Procrastination, or something, of + morals, I don’t know what it was—advancement, I suppose, of pure + morals—he had the immortal indiscretion to begin by saying that some + of us can’t be optimists, but by judiciously utilizing the opportunities + that Providence puts in our way we can all be bigamists. You perceive his + limitations. Anything he has in his mind he states, if he thinks it is + true. Well, that was true, but that was no place to say it—so they + fired him out. + </p> + <p> + A lot of accounts have been settled here tonight for me; I have held + grudges against some of these people, but they have all been wiped out by + the very handsome compliments that have been paid me. Even Wayne MacVeagh—I + have had a grudge against him many years. The first time I saw Wayne + MacVeagh was at a private dinner-party at Charles A. Dana’s, and when I + got there he was clattering along, and I tried to get a word in here and + there; but you know what Wayne MacVeagh is when he is started, and I could + not get in five words to his one—or one word to his five. I + struggled along and struggled along, and—well, I wanted to tell and + I was trying to tell a dream I had had the night before, and it was a + remarkable dream, a dream worth people’s while to listen to, a dream + recounting Sam Jones the revivalist’s reception in heaven. I was on a + train, and was approaching the celestial way-station—I had a through + ticket—and I noticed a man sitting alongside of me asleep, and he + had his ticket in his hat. He was the remains of the Archbishop of + Canterbury; I recognized him by his photograph. I had nothing against him, + so I took his ticket and let him have mine. He didn’t object—he + wasn’t in a condition to object—and presently when the train stopped + at the heavenly station—well, I got off, and he went on by request—but + there they all were, the angels, you know, millions of them, every one + with a torch; they had arranged for a torch-light procession; they were + expecting the Archbishop, and when I got off they started to raise a + shout, but it didn’t materialize. I don’t know whether they were + disappointed. I suppose they had a lot of superstitious ideas about the + Archbishop and what he should look like, and I didn’t fill the bill, and I + was trying to explain to Saint Peter, and was doing it in the German + tongue, because I didn’t want to be too explicit. Well, I found it was no + use, I couldn’t get along, for Wayne MacVeagh was occupying the whole + place, and I said to Mr. Dana, “What is the matter with that man? Who is + that man with the long tongue? What’s the trouble with him, that long, + lank cadaver, old oil-derrick out of a job—who is that?” “Well, + now,” Mr. Dana said, “you don’t want to meddle with him; you had better + keep quiet; just keep quiet, because that’s a bad man. Talk! He was born + to talk. Don’t let him get out with you; he’ll skin you.” I said, “I have + been skinned, skinned, and skinned for years, there is nothing left.” He + said, “Oh, you’ll find there is; that man is the very seed and inspiration + of that proverb which says, ‘No matter how close you skin an onion, a + clever man can always peel it again.’” Well, I reflected and I quieted + down. That would never occur to Tom Reed. He’s got no discretion. Well, + MacVeagh is just the same man; he hasn’t changed a bit in all those years; + he has been peeling Mr. Mitchell lately. That’s the kind of man he is. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Howells—that poem of his is admirable; that’s the way to treat a + person. Howells has a peculiar gift for seeing the merits of people, and + he has always exhibited them in my favor. Howells has never written + anything about me that I couldn’t read six or seven times a day; he is + always just and always fair; he has written more appreciatively of me than + any one in this world, and published it in the North American Review. He + did me the justice to say that my intentions—he italicized that—that + my intentions were always good, that I wounded people’s conventions rather + than their convictions. Now, I wouldn’t want anything handsomer than that + said of me. I would rather wait, with anything harsh I might have to say, + till the convictions become conventions. Bangs has traced me all the way + down. He can’t find that honest man, but I will look for him in the + looking-glass when I get home. It was intimated by the Colonel that it is + New England that makes New York and builds up this country and makes it + great, overlooking the fact that there’s a lot of people here who came + from elsewhere, like John Hay from away out West, and Howells from Ohio, + and St. Clair McKelway and me from Missouri, and we are doing what we can + to build up New York a little-elevate it. Why, when I was living in that + village of Hannibal, Missouri, on the banks of the Mississippi, and Hay up + in the town of Warsaw, also on the banks of the Mississippi River it is an + emotional bit of the Mississippi, and when it is low water you have to + climb up to it on a ladder, and when it floods you have to hunt for it; + with a deep-sea lead—but it is a great and beautiful country. In + that old time it was a paradise for simplicity—it was a simple, + simple life, cheap but comfortable, and full of sweetness, and there was + nothing of this rage of modern civilization there at all. It was a + delectable land. I went out there last June, and I met in that town of + Hannibal a schoolmate of mine, John Briggs, whom I had not seen for more + than fifty years. I tell you, that was a meeting! That pal whom I had + known as a little boy long ago, and knew now as a stately man three or + four inches over six feet and browned by exposure to many climes, he was + back there to see that old place again. We spent a whole afternoon going + about here and there and yonder, and hunting up the scenes and talking of + the crimes which we had committed so long ago. It was a heartbreaking + delight, full of pathos, laughter, and tears, all mixed together; and we + called the roll of the boys and girls that we picnicked and sweethearted + with so many years ago, and there were hardly half a dozen of them left; + the rest were in their graves; and we went up there on the summit of that + hill, a treasured place in my memory, the summit of Holiday’s Hill, and + looked out again over that magnificent panorama of the Mississippi River, + sweeping along league after league, a level green paradise on one side, + and retreating capes and promontories as far as you could see on the + other, fading away in the soft, rich lights of the remote distance. I + recognized then that I was seeing now the most enchanting river view the + planet could furnish. I never knew it when I was a boy; it took an + educated eye that had travelled over the globe to know and appreciate it; + and John said, “Can you point out the place where Bear Creek used to be + before the railroad came?” I said, “Yes, it ran along yonder.” “And can + you point out the swimming-hole?” “Yes, out there.” And he said, “Can you + point out the place where we stole the skiff?” Well, I didn’t know which + one he meant. Such a wilderness of events had intervened since that day, + more than fifty years ago, it took me more than five minutes to call back + that little incident, and then I did call it back; it was a white skiff, + and we painted it red to allay suspicion. And the saddest, saddest man + came along—a stranger he was—and he looked that red skiff over + so pathetically, and he said: “Well, if it weren’t for the complexion I’d + know whose skiff that was.” He said it in that pleading way, you know, + that appeals for sympathy and suggestion; we were full of sympathy for + him, but we weren’t in any condition to offer suggestions. I can see him + yet as he turned away with that same sad look on his face and vanished out + of history forever. I wonder what became of that man. I know what became + of the skiff. Well, it was a beautiful life, a lovely life. There was no + crime. Merely little things like pillaging orchards and watermelon-patches + and breaking the Sabbath—we didn’t break the Sabbath often enough to + signify—once a week perhaps. But we were good boys, good + Presbyterian boys, all Presbyterian boys, and loyal and all that; anyway, + we were good Presbyterian boys when the weather was doubtful; when it was + fair, we did wander a little from the fold. + </p> + <p> + Look at John Hay and me. There we were in obscurity, and look where we are + now. Consider the ladder which he has climbed, the illustrious vocations + he has served—and vocations is the right word; he has in all those + vocations acquitted himself with high credit and honor to his country and + to the mother that bore him. Scholar, soldier, diplomat, poet, historian—now, + see where we are. He is Secretary of State and I am a gentleman. It could + not happen in any other country. Our institutions give men the positions + that of right belong to them through merit; all you men have won your + places, not by heredities, and not by family influence or extraneous help, + but only by the natural gifts God gave you at your birth, made effective + by your own energies; this is the country to live in. + </p> + <p> + Now, there is one invisible guest here. A part of me is present; the + larger part, the better part, is yonder at her home; that is my wife, and + she has a good many personal friends here, and I think it won’t distress + any one of them to know that, although she is going to be confined to that + bed for many months to come from that nervous prostration, there is not + any danger and she is coming along very well—and I think it quite + appropriate that I should speak of her. I knew her for the first time just + in the same year that I first knew John Hay and Tom Reed and Mr. Twichell—thirty-six + years ago—and she has been the best friend I have ever had, and that + is saying a good deal; she has reared me—she and Twichell together—and + what I am I owe to them. Twichell—why, it is such a pleasure to look upon + Twichell’s face! For five-and-twenty years I was under the Rev. Mr. + Twichell’s tuition, I was in his pastorate, occupying a pew in his church, + and held him in due reverence. That man is full of all the graces that go + to make a person companionable and beloved; and wherever Twichell goes to + start a church the people flock there to buy the land; they find real + estate goes up all around the spot, and the envious and the thoughtful + always try to get Twichell to move to their neighborhood and start a + church; and wherever you see him go you can go and buy land there with + confidence, feeling sure that there will be a double price for you before + very long. I am not saying this to flatter Mr. Twichell; it is the fact. + Many and many a time I have attended the annual sale in his church, and + bought up all the pews on a margin—and it would have been better for + me spiritually and financially if I had stayed under his wing. + </p> + <p> + I have tried to do good in this world, and it is marvellous in how many + different ways I have done good, and it is comfortable to reflect—now, + there’s Mr. Rogers—just out of the affection I bear that man many a + time I have given him points in finance that he had never thought of—and + if he could lay aside envy, prejudice, and superstition, and utilize those + ideas in his business, it would make a difference in his bank account. + </p> + <p> + Well, I like the poetry. I like all the speeches and the poetry, too. I + liked Doctor Van Dyke’s poem. I wish I could return thanks in proper + measure to you, gentlemen, who have spoken and violated your feelings to + pay me compliments; some were merited and some you overlooked, it is true; + and Colonel Harvey did slander every one of you, and put things into my + mouth that I never said, never thought of at all. + </p> + <p> + And now, my wife and I, out of our single heart, return you our deepest + and most grateful thanks, and—yesterday was her birthday. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0094" id="link2H_4_0094"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + TO THE WHITEFRIARS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE DINNER GIVEN BY THE WHITEFRIARS CLUB IN HONOR OF + MR. CLEMENS, LONDON, JUNE 20, 1899 + + The Whitefriars Club was founded by Dr. Samuel Johnson, and Mr. + Clemens was made an honorary member in 1874. The members are + representative of literary and journalistic London. The toast + of “Our Guest” was proposed by Louis F. Austin, of the + Illustrated London News, and in the course of some humorous + remarks he referred to the vow and to the imaginary woes of the + “Friars,” as the members of the club style themselves. +</pre> + <p> + MR. CHAIRMAN AND BRETHREN OF THE VOW—in whatever the vow is; for + although I have been a member of this club for five-and twenty years, I + don’t know any more about what that vow is than Mr. Austin seems to. But + what ever the vow is, I don’t care what it is. I have made a thousand + vows. + </p> + <p> + There is no pleasure comparable to making a vow in the presence of one who + appreciates that vow, in the presence of men who honor and appreciate you + for making the vow, and men who admire you for making the vow. + </p> + <p> + There is only one pleasure higher than that, and that is to get outside + and break the vow. A vow is always a pledge of some kind or other for the + protection of your own morals and principles or somebody else’s, and + generally, by the irony of fate, it is for the protection of your own + morals. + </p> + <p> + Hence we have pledges that make us eschew tobacco or wine, and while you + are taking the pledge there is a holy influence about that makes you feel + you are reformed, and that you can never be so happy again in this world + until—you get outside and take a drink. + </p> + <p> + I had forgotten that I was a member of this club—it is so long ago. + But now I remember that I was here five-and-twenty years ago, and that I + was then at a dinner of the Whitefriars Club, and it was in those old days + when you had just made two great finds. All London was talking about + nothing else than that they had found Livingstone, and that the lost Sir + Roger Tichborne had been found—and they were trying him for it. + </p> + <p> + And at the dinner, Chairman (I do not know who he was)—failed to + come to time. The gentleman who had been appointed to pay me the customary + compliments and to introduce me forgot the compliments, and did not know + what they were. + </p> + <p> + And George Augustus Sala came in at the last moment, just when I was about + to go without compliments altogether. And that man was a gifted man. They + just called on him instantaneously, while he was going to sit down, to + introduce the stranger, and Sala, made one of those marvellous speeches + which he was capable of making. I think no man talked so fast as Sala did. + One did not need wine while he was making a speech. The rapidity of his + utterance made a man drunk in a minute. An incomparable speech was that, + an impromptu speech, and—an impromptu speech is a seldom thing, and + he did it so well. + </p> + <p> + He went into the whole history of the United States, and made it entirely + new to me. He filled it with episodes and incidents that Washington never + heard of, and he did it so convincingly that although I knew none of it + had happened, from that day to this I do not know any history but Sala’s. + </p> + <p> + I do not know anything so sad as a dinner where you are going to get up + and say something by-and-by, and you do not know what it is. You sit and + wonder and wonder what the gentleman is going to say who is going to + introduce you. You know that if he says something severe, that if he will + deride you, or traduce you, or do anything of that kind, he will furnish + you with a text, because anybody can get up and talk against that. + </p> + <p> + Anybody can get up and straighten out his character. But when a gentleman + gets up and merely tells the truth about you, what can you do? + </p> + <p> + Mr. Austin has done well. He has supplied so many texts that I will have + to drop out a lot of them, and that is about as difficult as when you do + not have any text at all. Now, he made a beautiful and smooth speech + without any difficulty at all, and I could have done that if I had gone on + with the schooling with which I began. I see here a gentleman on my left + who was my master in the art of oratory more than twenty-five years ago. + </p> + <p> + When I look upon the inspiring face of Mr. Depew, it carries me a long way + back. An old and valued friend of mine is he, and I saw his career as it + came along, and it has reached pretty well up to now, when he, by another + miscarriage of justice, is a United States Senator. But those were + delightful days when I was taking lessons in oratory. + </p> + <p> + My other master the Ambassador-is not here yet. Under those two gentlemen + I learned to make after-dinner speeches, and it was charming. + </p> + <p> + You know the New England dinner is the great occasion on the other side of + the water. It is held every year to celebrate the landing of the Pilgrims. + Those Pilgrims were a lot of people who were not needed in England, and + you know they had great rivalry, and they were persuaded to go elsewhere, + and they chartered a ship called Mayflower and set sail, and I have heard + it said that they pumped the Atlantic Ocean through that ship sixteen + times. + </p> + <p> + They fell in over there with the Dutch from Rotterdam, Amsterdam, and a + lot of other places with profane names, and it is from that gang that Mr. + Depew is descended. + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, Mr. Choate is descended from those Puritans who landed + on a bitter night in December. Every year those people used to meet at a + great banquet in New York, and those masters of mind in oratory had to + make speeches. It was Doctor Depew’s business to get up there and + apologise for the Dutch, and Mr. Choate had to get up later and explain + the crimes of the Puritans, and grand, beautiful times we used to have. + </p> + <p> + It is curious that after that long lapse of time I meet the Whitefriars + again, some looking as young and fresh as in the old days, others showing + a certain amount of wear and tear, and here, after all this time, I find + one of the masters of oratory and the others named in the list. + </p> + <p> + And here we three meet again as exiles on one pretext or another, and you + will notice that while we are absent there is a pleasing tranquillity in + America—a building up of public confidence. We are doing the best we + can for our country. I think we have spent our lives in serving our + country, and we never serve it to greater advantage than when we get out + of it. + </p> + <p> + But impromptu speaking—that is what I was trying to learn. That is a + difficult thing. I used to do it in this way. I used to begin about a week + ahead, and write out my impromptu speech and get it by heart. Then I + brought it to the New England dinner printed on a piece of paper in my + pocket, so that I could pass it to the reporters all cut and dried, and in + order to do an impromptu speech as it should be done you have to indicate + the places for pauses and hesitations. I put them all in it. And then you + want the applause in the right places. + </p> + <p> + When I got to the place where it should come in, if it did not come in I + did not care, but I had it marked in the paper. And these masters of mind + used to wonder why it was my speech came out in the morning in the first + person, while theirs went through the butchery of synopsis. + </p> + <p> + I do that kind of speech (I mean an offhand speech), and do it well, and + make no mistake in such a way to deceive the audience completely and make + that audience believe it is an impromptu speech—that is art. + </p> + <p> + I was frightened out of it at last by an experience of Doctor Hayes. He + was a sort of Nansen of that day. He had been to the North Pole, and it + made him celebrated. He had even seen the polar bear climb the pole. + </p> + <p> + He had made one of those magnificent voyages such as Nansen made, and in + those days when a man did anything which greatly distinguished him for the + moment he had to come on to the lecture platform and tell all about it. + </p> + <p> + Doctor Hayes was a great, magnificent creature like Nansen, superbly + built. He was to appear in Boston. He wrote his lecture out, and it was + his purpose to read it from manuscript; but in an evil hour he concluded + that it would be a good thing to preface it with something rather + handsome, poetical, and beautiful that he could get off by heart and + deliver as if it were the thought of the moment. + </p> + <p> + He had not had my experience, and could not do that. He came on the + platform, held his manuscript down, and began with a beautiful piece of + oratory. He spoke something like this: + </p> + <p> + “When a lonely human being, a pigmy in the midst of the architecture of + nature, stands solitary on those icy waters and looks abroad to the + horizon and sees mighty castles and temples of eternal ice raising up + their pinnacles tipped by the pencil of the departing sun—” + </p> + <p> + Here a man came across the platform and touched him on the shoulder, and + said: “One minute.” And then to the audience: + </p> + <p> + “Is Mrs. John Smith in the house? Her husband has slipped on the ice and + broken his leg.” + </p> + <p> + And you could see the Mrs. John Smiths get up everywhere and drift out of + the house, and it made great gaps everywhere. Then Doctor Hayes began + again: “When a lonely man, a pigmy in the architecture—” The janitor + came in again and shouted: “It is not Mrs. John Smith! It is Mrs. John + Jones!” + </p> + <p> + Then all the Mrs. Jones got up and left. Once more the speaker started, + and was in the midst of the sentence when he was interrupted again, and + the result was that the lecture was not delivered. But the lecturer + interviewed the janitor afterward in a private room, and of the fragments + of the janitor they took “twelve basketsful.” + </p> + <p> + Now, I don’t want to sit down just in this way. I have been talking with + so much levity that I have said no serious thing, and you are really no + better or wiser, although Robert Buchanan has suggested that I am a person + who deals in wisdom. I have said nothing which would make you better than + when you came here. + </p> + <p> + I should be sorry to sit down without having said one serious word which + you can carry home and relate to your children and the old people who are + not able to get away. + </p> + <p> + And this is just a little maxim which has saved me from many a difficulty + and many a disaster, and in times of tribulation and uncertainty has come + to my rescue, as it shall to yours if you observe it as I do day and + night. + </p> + <p> + I always use it in an emergency, and you can take it home as a legacy from + me, and it is “When in doubt, tell the truth.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0095" id="link2H_4_0095"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE ASCOT GOLD CUP + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The news of Mr. Clemens’s arrival in England in June, 1907, was + announced in the papers with big headlines. Immediately + following the announcement was the news—also with big + headlines—that the Ascot Gold Cup had been stolen the same + day. The combination, MARK TWAIN ARRIVES-ASCOT CUP STOLEN, + amused the public. The Lord Mayor of London gave a banquet at + the Mansion House in honor of Mr. Clemens. +</pre> + <p> + I do assure you that I am not so dishonest as I look. I have been so busy + trying to rehabilitate my honor about that Ascot Cup that I have had no + time to prepare a speech. + </p> + <p> + I was not so honest in former days as I am now, but I have always been + reasonably honest. Well, you know how a man is influenced by his + surroundings. Once upon a time I went to a public meeting where the + oratory of a charitable worker so worked on my feelings that, in common + with others, I would have dropped something substantial in the hat—if + it had come round at that moment. + </p> + <p> + The speaker had the power of putting those vivid pictures before one. We + were all affected. That was the moment for the hat. I would have put two + hundred dollars in. Before he had finished I could have put in four + hundred dollars. I felt I could have filled up a blank check—with + somebody else’s name—and dropped it in. + </p> + <p> + Well, now, another speaker got up, and in fifteen minutes damped my + spirit; and during the speech of the third speaker all my enthusiasm went + away. When at last the hat came round I dropped in ten cents—and + took out twenty-five. + </p> + <p> + I came over here to get the honorary degree from Oxford, and I would have + encompassed the seven seas for an honor like that—the greatest honor + that has ever fallen to my share. I am grateful to Oxford for conferring + that honor upon me, and I am sure my country appreciates it, because first + and foremost it is an honor to my country. + </p> + <p> + And now I am going home again across the sea. I am in spirit young but in + the flesh old, so that it is unlikely that when I go away I shall ever see + England again. But I shall go with the recollection of the generous and + kindly welcome I have had. + </p> + <p> + I suppose I must say “Good-bye.” I say it not with my lips only, but from + the heart. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0096" id="link2H_4_0096"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SAVAGE CLUB DINNER + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + A portrait of Mr. Clemens, signed by all the members of the + club attending the dinner, was presented to him, July 6, 1907, + and in submitting the toast “The Health of Mark Twain” Mr. J. + Scott Stokes recalled the fact that he had read parts of Doctor + Clemens’s works to Harold Frederic during Frederic’s last + illness. +</pre> + <p> + MR. CHAIRMAN AND FELLOW-SAVAGES,—I am very glad indeed to have that + portrait. I think it is the best one that I have ever had, and there have + been opportunities before to get a good photograph. I have sat to + photographers twenty-two times to-day. Those sittings added to those that + have preceded them since I have been in Europe—if we average at that + rate—must have numbered one hundred to two hundred sittings. Out of + all those there ought to be some good photographs. This is the best I have + had, and I am glad to have your honored names on it. I did not know Harold + Frederic personally, but I have heard a great deal about him, and nothing + that was not pleasant and nothing except such things as lead a man to + honor another man and to love him. I consider that it is a misfortune of + mine that I have never had the luck to meet him, and if any book of mine + read to him in his last hours made those hours easier for him and more + comfortable, I am very glad and proud of that. I call to mind such a case + many years ago of an English authoress, well known in her day, who wrote + such beautiful child tales, touching and lovely in every possible way. In + a little biographical sketch of her I found that her last hours were spent + partly in reading a book of mine, until she was no longer able to read. + That has always remained in my mind, and I have always cherished it as one + of the good things of my life. I had read what she had written, and had + loved her for what she had done. + </p> + <p> + Stanley apparently carried a book of mine feloniously away to Africa, and + I have not a doubt that it had a noble and uplifting influence there in + the wilds of Africa—because on his previous journeys he never + carried anything to read except Shakespeare and the Bible. I did not know + of that circumstance. I did not know that he had carried a book of mine. I + only noticed that when he came back he was a reformed man. I knew Stanley + very well in those old days. Stanley was the first man who ever reported a + lecture of mine, and that was in St. Louis. When I was down there the next + time to give the same lecture I was told to give them something fresh, as + they had read that in the papers. I met Stanley here when he came back + from that first expedition of his which closed with the finding of + Livingstone. You remember how he would break out at the meetings of the + British Association, and find fault with what people said, because Stanley + had notions of his own, and could not contain them. They had to come out + or break him up—and so he would go round and address geographical + societies. He was always on the warpath in those days, and people always + had to have Stanley contradicting their geography for them and improving + it. But he always came back and sat drinking beer with me in the hotel up + to two in the morning, and he was then one of the most civilized human + beings that ever was. + </p> + <p> + I saw in a newspaper this evening a reference to an interview which + appeared in one of the papers the other day, in which the interviewer said + that I characterized Mr. Birrell’s speech the other day at the Pilgrims’ + Club as “bully.” Now, if you will excuse me, I never use slang to an + interviewer or anybody else. That distresses me. Whatever I said about Mr. + Birrell’s speech was said in English, as good English as anybody uses. If + I could not describe Mr. Birrell’s delightful speech without using slang I + would not describe it at all. I would close my mouth and keep it closed, + much as it would discomfort me. + </p> + <p> + Now that comes of interviewing a man in the first person, which is an + altogether wrong way to interview him. It is entirely wrong because none + of you, I, or anybody else, could interview a man—could listen to a + man talking any length of time and then go off and reproduce that talk in + the first person. It can’t be done. What results is merely that the + interviewer gives the substance of what is said and puts it in his own + language and puts it in your mouth. It will always be either better + language than you use or worse, and in my case it is always worse. I have + a great respect for the English language. I am one of its supporters, its + promoters, its elevators. I don’t degrade it. A slip of the tongue would + be the most that you would get from me. I have always tried hard and + faithfully to improve my English and never to degrade it. I always try to + use the best English to describe what I think and what I feel, or what I + don’t feel and what I don’t think. + </p> + <p> + I am not one of those who in expressing opinions confine themselves to + facts. I don’t know anything that mars good literature so completely as + too much truth. Facts contain a deal of poetry, but you can’t use too many + of them without damaging your literature. I love all literature, and as + long as I am a doctor of literature—I have suggested to you for + twenty years I have been diligently trying to improve my own literature, + and now, by virtue of the University of Oxford, I mean to doctor everybody + else’s. + </p> + <p> + Now I think I ought to apologize for my clothes. At home I venture things + that I am not permitted by my family to venture in foreign parts. I was + instructed before I left home and ordered to refrain from white clothes in + England. I meant to keep that command fair and clean, and I would have + done it if I had been in the habit of obeying instructions, but I can’t + invent a new process in life right away. I have not had white clothes on + since I crossed the ocean until now. + </p> + <p> + In these three or four weeks I have grown so tired of gray and black that + you have earned my gratitude in permitting me to come as I have. I wear + white clothes in the depth of winter in my home, but I don’t go out in the + streets in them. I don’t go out to attract too much attention. I like to + attract some, and always I would like to be dressed so that I may be more + conspicuous than anybody else. + </p> + <p> + If I had been an ancient Briton, I would not have contented myself with + blue paint, but I would have bankrupted the rainbow. I so enjoy gay + clothes in which women clothe themselves that it always grieves me when I + go to the opera to see that, while women look like a flower-bed, the men + are a few gray stumps among them in their black evening dress. These are + two or three reasons why I wish to wear white clothes: When I find myself + in assemblies like this, with everybody in black clothes, I know I possess + something that is superior to everybody else’s. Clothes are never clean. + You don’t know whether they are clean or not, because you can’t see. + </p> + <p> + Here or anywhere you must scour your head every two or three days or it is + full of grit. Your clothes must collect just as much dirt as your hair. If + you wear white clothes you are clean, and your cleaning bill gets so heavy + that you have to take care. I am proud to say that I can wear a white suit + of clothes without a blemish for three days. If you need any further + instruction in the matter of clothes I shall be glad to give it to you. I + hope I have convinced some of you that it is just as well to wear white + clothes as any other kind. I do not want to boast. I only want to make you + understand that you are not clean. + </p> + <p> + As to age, the fact that I am nearly seventy-two years old does not + clearly indicate how old I am, because part of every day—it is with + me as with you, you try to describe your age, and you cannot do it. + Sometimes you are only fifteen; sometimes you are twenty-five. It is very + seldom in a day that I am seventy-two years old. I am older now sometimes + than I was when I used to rob orchards; a thing which I would not do + to-day—if the orchards were watched. I am so glad to be here + to-night. I am so glad to renew with the Savages that now ancient time + when I first sat with a company of this club in London in 1872. That is a + long time ago. But I did stay with the Savages a night in London long ago, + and as I had come into a very strange land, and was with friends, as I + could see, that has always remained in my mind as a peculiarly blessed + evening, since it brought me into contact with men of my own kind and my + own feelings. + </p> + <p> + I am glad to be here, and to see you all again, because it is very likely + that I shall not see you again. It is easier than I thought to come across + the Atlantic. I have been received, as you know, in the most delightfully + generous way in England ever since I came here. It keeps me choked up all + the time. Everybody is so generous, and they do seem to give you such a + hearty welcome. Nobody in the world can appreciate it higher than I do. It + did not wait till I got to London, but when I came ashore at Tilbury the + stevedores on the dock raised the first welcome—a good and hearty + welcome from the men who do the heavy labor in the world, and save you and + me having to do it. They are the men who with their hands build empires + and make them prosper. It is because of them that the others are wealthy + and can live in luxury. They received me with a “Hurrah!” that went to my + heart. They are the men that build civilization, and without them no + civilization can be built. So I came first to the authors and creators of + civilization, and I blessedly end this happy meeting with the Savages who + destroy it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0097" id="link2H_4_0097"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + GENERAL MILES AND THE DOG + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Mr. Clemens was the guest of honor at a dinner given by the + Pleiades Club at the Hotel Brevoort, December 22, 1907. The + toastmaster introduced the guest of the evening with a high + tribute to his place in American literature, saying that he was + dear to the hearts of all Americans. +</pre> + <p> + It is hard work to make a speech when you have listened to compliments + from the powers in authority. A compliment is a hard text to preach to. + When the chairman introduces me as a person of merit, and when he says + pleasant things about me, I always feel like answering simply that what he + says is true; that it is all right; that, as far as I am concerned, the + things he said can stand as they are. But you always have to say + something, and that is what frightens me. + </p> + <p> + I remember out in Sydney once having to respond to some complimentary + toast, and my one desire was to turn in my tracks like any other worm—and + run, for it. I was remembering that occasion at a later date when I had to + introduce a speaker. Hoping, then, to spur his speech by putting him, in + joke, on the defensive, I accused him in my introduction of everything I + thought it impossible for him to have committed. When I finished there was + an awful calm. I had been telling his life history by mistake. + </p> + <p> + One must keep up one’s character. Earn a character first if you can, and + if you can’t, then assume one. From the code of morals I have been + following and revising and revising for seventy-two years I remember one + detail. All my life I have been honest—comparatively honest. I could + never use money I had not made honestly—I could only lend it. + </p> + <p> + Last spring I met General Miles again, and he commented on the fact that + we had known each other thirty years. He said it was strange that we had + not met years before, when we had both been in Washington. At that point I + changed the subject, and I changed it with art. But the facts are these: + </p> + <p> + I was then under contract for my Innocents Abroad, but did not have a cent + to live on while I wrote it. So I went to Washington to do a little + journalism. There I met an equally poor friend, William Davidson, who had + not a single vice, unless you call it a vice in a Scot to love Scotch. + Together we devised the first and original newspaper syndicate, selling + two letters a week to twelve newspapers and getting $1 a letter. That $24 + a week would have been enough for us—if we had not had to support + the jug. + </p> + <p> + But there was a day when we felt that we must have $3 right away—$3 + at once. That was how I met the General. It doesn’t matter now what we + wanted so much money at one time for, but that Scot and I did occasionally + want it. The Scot sent me out one day to get it. He had a great belief in + Providence, that Scottish friend of mine. He said: “The Lord will + provide.” + </p> + <p> + I had given up trying to find the money lying about, and was in a hotel + lobby in despair, when I saw a beautiful unfriended dog. The dog saw me, + too, and at once we became acquainted. Then General Miles came in, admired + the dog, and asked me to price it. I priced it at $3. He offered me an + opportunity to reconsider the value of the beautiful animal, but I refused + to take more than Providence knew I needed. The General carried the dog to + his room. + </p> + <p> + Then came in a sweet little middle-aged man, who at once began looking + around the lobby. + </p> + <p> + “Did you lose a dog?” I asked. He said he had. + </p> + <p> + “I think I could find it,” I volunteered, “for a small sum.” + </p> + <p> + “‘How much?’” he asked. And I told him $3. + </p> + <p> + He urged me to accept more, but I did not wish to outdo Providence. Then I + went to the General’s room and asked for the dog back. He was very angry, + and wanted to know why I had sold him a dog that did not belong to me. + </p> + <p> + “That’s a singular question to ask me, sir,” I replied. “Didn’t you ask me + to sell him? You started it.” And he let me have him. I gave him back his + $3 and returned the dog, collect, to its owner. That second $3 I carried + home to the Scot, and we enjoyed it, but the first $3, the money I got + from the General, I would have had to lend. + </p> + <p> + The General seemed not to remember my part in that adventure, and I never + had the heart to tell him about it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0098" id="link2H_4_0098"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WHEN IN DOUBT, TELL THE TRUTH + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Mark Twain’s speech at the dinner of the “Freundschaft + Society,” March 9, 1906, had as a basis the words of + introduction used by Toastmaster Frank, who, referring to + Pudd’nhead Wilson, used the phrase, “When in doubt, tell the + truth.” + </pre> + <p> + MR. CHAIRMAN, Mr. PUTZEL, AND GENTLEMEN OF THE FREUNDSCHAFT,—That + maxim I did invent, but never expected it to be applied to me. I did say, + “When you are in doubt,” but when I am in doubt myself I use more + sagacity. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Grout suggested that if I have anything to say against Mr. Putzel, or + any criticism of his career or his character, I am the last person to come + out on account of that maxim and tell the truth. That is altogether a + mistake. + </p> + <p> + I do think it is right for other people to be virtuous so that they can be + happy hereafter, but if I knew every impropriety that even Mr. Putzel has + committed in his life, I would not mention one of them. My judgment has + been maturing for seventy years, and I have got to that point where I know + better than that. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Putzel stands related to me in a very tender way (through the tax + office), and it does not behoove me to say anything which could by any + possibility militate against that condition of things. + </p> + <p> + Now, that word—taxes, taxes, taxes! I have heard it to-night. I have + heard it all night. I wish somebody would change that subject; that is a + very sore subject to me. + </p> + <p> + I was so relieved when judge Leventritt did find something that was not + taxable—when he said that the commissioner could not tax your + patience. And that comforted me. We’ve got so much taxation. I don’t know + of a single foreign product that enters this country untaxed except the + answer to prayer. + </p> + <p> + On an occasion like this the proprieties require that you merely pay + compliments to the guest of the occasion, and I am merely here to pay + compliments to the guest of the occasion, not to criticise him in any way, + and I can say only complimentary things to him. + </p> + <p> + When I went down to the tax office some time ago, for the first time in + New York, I saw Mr. Putzel sitting in the “Seat of Perjury.” I recognized + him right away. I warmed to him on the spot. I didn’t know that I had ever + seen him before, but just as soon as I saw him I recognized him. I had met + him twenty-five years before, and at that time had achieved a knowledge of + his abilities and something more than that. + </p> + <p> + I thought: “Now, this is the man whom I saw twenty-five years ago.” On + that occasion I not only went free at his hands, but carried off something + more than that. I hoped it would happen again. + </p> + <p> + It was twenty-five years ago when I saw a young clerk in Putnam’s + bookstore. I went in there and asked for George Haven Putnam, and handed + him my card, and then the young man said Mr. Putnam was busy and I + couldn’t see him. Well, I had merely called in a social way, and so it + didn’t matter. + </p> + <p> + I was going out when I saw a great big, fat, interesting-looking book + lying there, and I took it up. It was an account of the invasion of + England in the fourteenth century by the Preaching Friar, and it + interested me. + </p> + <p> + I asked him the price of it, and he said four dollars. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” I said, “what discount do you allow to publishers?” + </p> + <p> + He said: “Forty percent. off.” + </p> + <p> + I said: “All right, I am a publisher.” + </p> + <p> + He put down the figure, forty per cent. off, on a card. + </p> + <p> + Then I said: “What discount do you allow to authors?” + </p> + <p> + He said: “Forty per cent. off.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” I said, “set me down as an author.” + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said I, “what discount do you allow to the clergy?” + </p> + <p> + He said: “Forty per cent. off.” + </p> + <p> + I said to him that I was only on the road, and that I was studying for the + ministry. I asked him wouldn’t he knock off twenty per cent. for that. He + set down the figure, and he never smiled once. + </p> + <p> + I was working off these humorous brilliancies on him and getting no return—not + a scintillation in his eye, not a spark of recognition of what I was doing + there. I was almost in despair. + </p> + <p> + I thought I might try him once more, so I said “Now, I am also a member of + the human race. Will you let me have the ten per cent. off for that?” He + set it down, and never smiled. + </p> + <p> + Well, I gave it up. I said: “There is my card with my address on it, but I + have not any money with me. Will you please send the bill to Hartford?” I + took up the book and was going away. + </p> + <p> + He said: “Wait a minute. There is forty cents coming to you.” + </p> + <p> + When I met him in the tax office I thought maybe I could make something + again, but I could not. But I had not any idea I could when I came, and as + it turned out I did get off entirely free. + </p> + <p> + I put up my hand and made a statement. It gave me a good deal of pain to + do that. I was not used to it. I was born and reared in the higher circles + of Missouri, and there we don’t do such things—didn’t in my time, + but we have got that little matter settled—got a sort of tax levied + on me. + </p> + <p> + Then he touched me. Yes, he touched me this time, because he cried—cried! + He was moved to tears to see that I, a virtuous person only a year before, + after immersion for one year—during one year in the New York morals—had + no more conscience than a millionaire. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0099" id="link2H_4_0099"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE DAY WE CELEBRATE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT THE FOURTH-OF-JULY DINNER OF THE AMERICAN SOCIETY, + LONDON, 1899. +</pre> + <p> + I noticed in Ambassador Choate’s speech that he said: “You may be + Americans or Englishmen, but you cannot be both at the same time.” You + responded by applause. + </p> + <p> + Consider the effect of a short residence here. I find the Ambassador rises + first to speak to a toast, followed by a Senator, and I come third. What a + subtle tribute that to monarchial influence of the country when you place + rank above respectability! + </p> + <p> + I was born modest, and if I had not been things like this would force it + upon me. I understand it quite well. I am here to see that between them + they do justice to the day we celebrate, and in case they do not I must do + it myself. But I notice they have considered this day merely from one side—its + sentimental, patriotic, poetic side. But it has another side. It has a + commercial, a business side that needs reforming. It has a historical + side. + </p> + <p> + I do not say “an” historical side, because I am speaking the American + language. I do not see why our cousins should continue to say “an” + hospital, “an” historical fact, “an” horse. It seems to me the Congress of + Women, now in session, should look to it. I think “an” is having a little + too much to do with it. It comes of habit, which accounts for many things. + </p> + <p> + Yesterday, for example, I was at a luncheon party. At the end of the party + a great dignitary of the English Established Church went away half an hour + before anybody else and carried off my hat. Now, that was an innocent act + on his part. He went out first, and of course had the choice of hats. As a + rule I try to get out first myself. But I hold that it was an innocent, + unconscious act, due, perhaps, to heredity. He was thinking about + ecclesiastical matters, and when a man is in that condition of mind he + will take anybody’s hat. The result was that the whole afternoon I was + under the influence of his clerical hat and could not tell a lie. Of + course, he was hard at it. + </p> + <p> + It is a compliment to both of us. His hat fitted me exactly; my hat fitted + him exactly. So I judge I was born to rise to high dignity in the Church + some how or other, but I do not know what he was born for. That is an + illustration of the influence of habit, and it is perceptible here when + they say “an” hospital, “an” European, “an” historical. + </p> + <p> + The business aspects of the Fourth of July is not perfect as it stands. + See what it costs us every year with loss of life, the crippling of + thousands with its fireworks, and the burning down of property. It is not + only sacred to patriotism and universal freedom, but to the surgeon, the + undertaker, the insurance offices—and they are working it for all + it is worth. + </p> + <p> + I am pleased to see that we have a cessation of war for the time. This + coming from me, a soldier, you will appreciate. I was a soldier in the + Southern war for two weeks, and when gentlemen get up to speak of the + great deeds our army and navy have recently done, why, it goes all through + me and fires up the old war spirit. I had in my first engagement three + horses shot under me. The next ones went over my head, the next hit me in + the back. Then I retired to meet an engagement. + </p> + <p> + I thank you, gentlemen, for making even a slight reference to the war + profession, in which I distinguished myself, short as my career was. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0100" id="link2H_4_0100"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + INDEPENDENCE DAY + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The American Society in London gave a banquet, July 4, 1907, at + the Hotel Cecil. Ambassador Choate called on Mr. Clemens to + respond to the toast “The Day We Celebrate.” + </pre> + <p> + MR. CHAIRMAN, MY LORD, AND GENTLEMEN,—Once more it happens, as it + has happened so often since I arrived in England a week or two ago, that + instead of celebrating the Fourth of July properly as has been indicated, + I have to first take care of my personal character. Sir Mortimer Durand + still remains unconvinced. Well, I tried to convince these people from the + beginning that I did not take the Ascot Cup; and as I have failed to + convince anybody that I did not take the cup, I might as well confess I + did take it and be done with it. I don’t see why this uncharitable feeling + should follow me everywhere, and why I should have that crime thrown up to + me on all occasions. The tears that I have wept over it ought to have + created a different feeling than this—and, besides, I don’t think it + is very right or fair that, considering England has been trying to take a + cup of ours for forty years—I don’t see why they should take so much + trouble when I tried to go into the business myself. + </p> + <p> + Sir Mortimer Durand, too, has had trouble from going to a dinner here, and + he has told you what he suffered in consequence. But what did he suffer? + He only missed his train, and one night of discomfort, and he remembers it + to this day. Oh! if you could only think what I have suffered from a + similar circumstance. Two or three years ago, in New York, with that + Society there which is made up of people from all British Colonies, and + from Great Britain generally, who were educated in British colleges and + British schools, I was there to respond to a toast of some kind or other, + and I did then what I have been in the habit of doing, from a selfish + motive, for a long time, and that is, I got myself placed No, 3 in the + list of speakers—then you get home early. + </p> + <p> + I had to go five miles up-river, and had to catch a particular train or + not get there. But see the magnanimity which is born in me, which I have + cultivated all my life. A very famous and very great British clergyman + came to me presently, and he said: “I am away down in the list; I have got + to catch a certain train this Saturday night; if I don’t catch that train + I shall be carried beyond midnight and break the Sabbath. Won’t you change + places with me?” I said: “Certainly I will.” I did it at once. Now, see + what happened. + </p> + <p> + Talk about Sir Mortimer Durand’s sufferings for a single night! I have + suffered ever since because I saved that gentleman from breaking the + Sabbath-yes, saved him. I took his place, but I lost my train, and it was + I who broke the Sabbath. Up to that time I never had broken the Sabbath in + my life, and from that day to this I never have kept it. + </p> + <p> + Oh! I am learning much here to-night. I find I didn’t know anything about + the American Society—that is, I didn’t know its chief virtue. I + didn’t know its chief virtue until his Excellency our Ambassador revealed + it—I may say, exposed it. I was intending to go home on the 13th of + this month, but I look upon that in a different light now. I am going to + stay here until the American Society pays my passage. + </p> + <p> + Our Ambassador has spoken of our Fourth of July and the noise it makes. We + have got a double Fourth of July—a daylight Fourth and a midnight + Fourth. During the day in America, as our Ambassador has indicated, we + keep the Fourth of July properly in a reverent spirit. We devote it to + teaching our children patriotic things—reverence for the Declaration + of Independence. We honor the day all through the daylight hours, and when + night comes we dishonor it. Presently—before long—they are + getting nearly ready to begin now—on the Atlantic coast, when night + shuts down, that pandemonium will begin, and there will be noise, and + noise, and noise—all night long—and there will be more than + noise there will be people crippled, there will be people killed, there + will be people who will lose their eyes, and all through that permission + which we give to irresponsible boys to play with firearms and + fire-crackers, and all sorts of dangerous things: We turn that Fourth of + July, alas! over to rowdies to drink and get drunk and make the night + hideous, and we cripple and kill more people than you would imagine. + </p> + <p> + We probably began to celebrate our Fourth-of-July night in that way one + hundred and twenty-five years ago, and on every Fourth-of-July night since + these horrors have grown and grown, until now, in our five thousand towns + of America, somebody gets killed or crippled on every Fourth-of-July + night, besides those cases of sick persons whom we never hear of, who die + as the result of the noise or the shock. They cripple and kill more people + on the Fourth of July in America than they kill and cripple in our wars + nowadays, and there are no pensions for these folk. And, too, we burn + houses. Really we destroy more property on every Fourth-of-July night than + the whole of the United States was worth one hundred and twenty-five years + ago. Really our Fourth of July is our day of mourning, our day of sorrow. + Fifty thousand people who have lost friends, or who have had friends + crippled, receive that Fourth of July, when it comes, as a day of mourning + for the losses they have sustained in their families. + </p> + <p> + I have suffered in that way myself. I have had relatives killed in that + way. One was in Chicago years ago—an uncle of mine, just as good an + uncle as I have ever had, and I had lots of them—yes, uncles to + burn, uncles to spare. This poor uncle, full of patriotism, opened his + mouth to hurrah, and a rocket went down his throat. Before that man could + ask for a drink of water to quench that thing, it blew up and scattered + him all over the forty-five States, and—really, now, this is true—I + know about it myself—twenty-four hours after that it was raining + buttons, recognizable as his, on the Atlantic seaboard. A person cannot + have a disaster like that and be entirely cheerful the rest of his life. I + had another uncle, on an entirely different Fourth of July, who was blown + up that way, and really it trimmed him as it would a tree. He had hardly a + limb left on him anywhere. All we have left now is an expurgated edition + of that uncle. But never mind about these things; they are merely passing + matters. Don’t let me make you sad. + </p> + <p> + Sir Mortimer Durand said that you, the English people, gave up your + colonies over there—got tired of them—and did it with + reluctance. Now I wish you just to consider that he was right about that, + and that he had his reasons for saying that England did not look upon our + Revolution as a foreign war, but as a civil war fought by Englishmen. + </p> + <p> + Our Fourth of July which we honor so much, and which we love so much, and + which we take so much pride in, is an English institution, not an American + one, and it comes of a great ancestry. The first Fourth of July in that + noble genealogy dates back seven centuries lacking eight years. That is + the day of the Great Charter—the Magna Charta—which was born + at Runnymede in the next to the last year of King John, and portions of + the liberties secured thus by those hardy Barons from that reluctant King + John are a part of our Declaration of Independence, of our Fourth of July, + of our American liberties. And the second of those Fourths of July was not + born until four centuries later, in, Charles the First’s time, in the + Bill of Rights, and that is ours, that is part of our liberties. The next + one was still English, in New England, where they established that + principle which remains with us to this day, and will continue to remain + with us—no taxation without representation. That is always going to + stand, and that the English Colonies in New England gave us. + </p> + <p> + The Fourth of July, and the one which you are celebrating now, born, in + Philadelphia on the 4th of July, 1776—that is English, too. It is + not American. Those were English colonists, subjects of King George III., + Englishmen at heart, who protested against the oppressions of the Home + Government. Though they proposed to cure those oppressions and remove + them, still remaining under the Crown, they were not intending a + revolution. The revolution was brought about by circumstances which they + could not control. The Declaration of Independence was written by a + British subject, every name signed to it was the name of a British + subject. There was not the name of a single American attached to the + Declaration of Independence—in fact, there was not an American in + the country in that day except the Indians out on the plains. They were + Englishmen, all Englishmen—Americans did not begin until seven + years later, when that Fourth of July had become seven years old, and + then, the American Republic was established. Since then, there have been + Americans. So you see what we owe to England in the matter of liberties. + </p> + <p> + We have, however, one Fourth of July which is absolutely our own, and that + is that great proclamation issued forty years ago by that great American + to whom Sir Mortimer Durand paid that just and beautiful tribute—Abraham + Lincoln. Lincoln’s proclamation, which not only set the black slaves free, + but set the white man free also. The owner was set free from the burden + and offence, that sad condition of things where he was in so many + instances a master and owner of slaves when he did not want to be. That + proclamation set them all free. But even in this matter England suggested + it, for England had set her slaves free thirty years before, and we + followed her example. We always followed her example, whether it was good + or bad. + </p> + <p> + And it was an English judge that issued that other great proclamation, and + established that great principle that, when a slave, let him belong to + whom he may, and let him come whence he may, sets his foot upon English + soil, his fetters by that act fall away and he is a free man before the + world. We followed the example of 1833, and we freed our slaves as I have + said. + </p> + <p> + It is true, then, that all our Fourths of July, and we have five of them, + England gave to us, except that one that I have mentioned—the + Emancipation Proclamation, and, lest we forget, let us all remember that + we owe these things to England. Let us be able to say to Old England, this + great-hearted, venerable old mother of the race, you gave us our Fourths + of July that we love and that we honor and revere, you gave us the + Declaration of Independence, which is the Charter of our rights, you, the + venerable Mother of Liberties, the Protector of Anglo-Saxon Freedom—you + gave us these things, and we do most honestly thank you for them. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0101" id="link2H_4_0101"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + AMERICANS AND THE ENGLISH + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT A GATHERING OF AMERICANS IN LONDON, JULY 4, 1872 +</pre> + <p> + MR. CHAIRMAN AND LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,—I thank you for the + compliment which has just been tendered me, and to show my appreciation of + it I will not afflict you with many words. It is pleasant to celebrate in + this peaceful way, upon this old mother soil, the anniversary of an + experiment which was born of war with this same land so long ago, and + wrought out to a successful issue by the devotion of our ancestors. It has + taken nearly a hundred years to bring the English and Americans into + kindly and mutually appreciative relations, but I believe it has been + accomplished at last. It was a great step when the two last + misunderstandings were settled by arbitration instead of cannon. It is + another great step when England adopts our sewing-machines without + claiming the invention—as usual. It was another when they imported + one of our sleeping-cars the other day. And it warmed my heart more than + I can tell, yesterday, when I witnessed the spectacle of an Englishman + ordering an American sherry cobbler of his own free will and accord—and + not only that but with a great brain and a level head reminding the + barkeeper not to forget the strawberries. With a common origin, a common + language, a common literature, a common religion, and—common drinks, + what is longer needful to the cementing of the two nations together in a + permanent bond of brotherhood? + </p> + <p> + This is an age of progress, and ours is a progressive land. A great and + glorious land, too—a land which has developed a Washington, a + Franklin, a Wm. M. Tweed, a Longfellow, a Motley, a Jay Gould, a Samuel C. + Pomeroy, a recent Congress which has never had its equal (in some + respects), and a United States Army which conquered sixty Indians in eight + months by tiring them out which is much better than uncivilized slaughter, + God knows. We have a criminal jury system which is superior to any in the + world; and its efficiency is only marred by the difficulty of finding + twelve men every day who don’t know anything and can’t read. And I may + observe that we have an insanity plea that would have saved Cain. I think + I can say, and say with pride, that we have some legislatures that bring + higher prices than any in the world. + </p> + <p> + I refer with effusion to our railway system, which consents to let us + live, though it might do the opposite, being our owners. It only destroyed + three thousand and seventy lives last year by collisions, and twenty-seven + thousand two hundred and sixty by running over heedless and unnecessary + people at crossings. The companies seriously regretted the killing of + these thirty thousand people, and went so far as to pay for some of them—voluntarily, + of course, for the meanest of us would not claim that we possess a court + treacherous enough to enforce a law against a railway company. But, thank + Heaven, the railway companies are generally disposed to do the right and + kindly thing without compulsion. I know of an instance which greatly + touched me at the time. After an accident the company sent home the + remains of a dear distant old relative of mine in a basket, with the + remark, “Please state what figure you hold him at—and return the + basket.” Now there couldn’t be anything friendlier than that. + </p> + <p> + But I must not stand here and brag all night. However, you won’t mind a + body bragging a little about his country on the Fourth of July. It is a + fair and legitimate time to fly the eagle. I will say only one more word + of brag—and a hopeful one. It is this. We have a form of government + which gives each man a fair chance and no favor. With us no individual is + born with a right to look down upon his neighbor and hold him in contempt. + Let such of us as are not dukes find our consolation in that. And we may + find hope for the future in the fact that as unhappy as is the condition + of our political morality to-day, England has risen up out of a far fouler + since the days when Charles I. ennobled courtesans and all political place + was a matter of bargain and sale. There is hope for us yet.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *At least the above is the speech which I was going to make, + but our minister, General Schenck, presided, and after the + blessing, got up and made a great, long, inconceivably dull + harangue, and wound up by saying that inasmuch as speech-making + did not seem to exhilarate the guests much, all further oratory + would be dispensed with during the evening, and we could just + sit and talk privately to our elbow-neighbors and have a good, + sociable time. It is known that in consequence of that remark + forty-four perfected speeches died in the womb. The + depression, the gloom, the solemnity that reigned over the + banquet from that time forth will be a lasting memory with many + that were there. By that one thoughtless remark General + Schenck lost forty-four of the best friends he had in England. + More than one said that night: “And this is the sort of person + that is sent to represent us in a great sister empire!” + </pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0102" id="link2H_4_0102"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ABOUT LONDON + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT A DINNER GIVEN BY THE SAVAGE CLUB, + LONDON, SEPTEMBER 28, 1872. + + Reported by Moncure D. Conway in the Cincinnati Commercial. +</pre> + <p> + It affords me sincere pleasure to meet this distinguished club, a club + which has extended its hospitalities and its cordial welcome to so many of + my countrymen. I hope [and here the speaker’s voice became low and + fluttering] you will excuse these clothes. I am going to the theatre; that + will explain these clothes. I have other clothes than these. Judging human + nature by what I have seen of it, I suppose that the customary thing for a + stranger to do when he stands here is to make a pun on the name of this + club, under the impression, of course, that he is the first man that that + idea has occurred to. It is a credit to our human nature, not a blemish + upon it; for it shows that underlying all our depravity (and God knows and + you know we are depraved enough) and all our sophistication, and + untarnished by them, there is a sweet germ of innocence and simplicity + still. When a stranger says to me, with a glow of inspiration in his eye, + some gentle, innocuous little thing about “Twain and one flesh,” and all + that sort of thing, I don’t try to crush that man into the earth—no. + I feel like saying: “Let me take you by the hand, sir; let me embrace you; + I have not heard that pun for weeks.” We will deal in palpable puns. We + will call parties named King “Your Majesty,” and we will say to the Smiths + that we think we have heard that name before somewhere. Such is human + nature. We cannot alter this. It is God that made us so for some good and + wise purpose. Let us not repine. But though I may seem strange, may seem + eccentric, I mean to refrain from punning upon the name of this club, + though I could make a very good one if I had time to think about it—a + week. + </p> + <p> + I cannot express to you what entire enjoyment I find in this first visit + to this prodigious metropolis of yours. Its wonders seem to me to be + limitless. I go about as in a dream—as in a realm of enchantment—where + many things are rare and beautiful, and all things are strange and + marvellous. Hour after hour I stand—I stand spellbound, as it were—and + gaze upon the statuary in Leicester Square. [Leicester Square being a + horrible chaos, with the relic of an equestrian statue in the centre, the + king being headless and limbless, and the horse in little better + condition.] I visit the mortuary effigies of noble old Henry VIII., and + Judge Jeffreys, and the preserved gorilla, and try to make up my mind + which of my ancestors I admire the most. I go to that matchless Hyde Park + and drive all around it, and then I start to enter it at the Marble Arch—-and—am + induced to “change my mind.” [Cabs are not permitted in Hyde Park—nothing + less aristocratic than a private carriage.] It is a great benefaction—is + Hyde Park. There, in his hansom cab, the invalid can go—the poor, + sad child of misfortune—and insert his nose between the railings, + and breathe the pure, health-giving air of the country and of + heaven. And if he is a swell invalid, who isn’t obliged to depend upon + parks for his country air, he can drive inside—if he owns his + vehicle. I drive round and round Hyde Park, and the more I see of the + edges of it the more grateful I am that the margin is extensive. + </p> + <p> + And I have been to the Zoological Gardens. What a wonderful place that is! + I never have seen such a curious and interesting variety of wild animals + in any garden before—except “Mabilie.” I never believed before there + were so many different kinds of animals in the world as you can find there—and + I don’t believe it yet. I have been to the British Museum. I would advise + you to drop in there some time when you have nothing to do for—five + minutes—if you have never been there: It seems to me the noblest + monument that this nation has yet erected to her greatness. I say to her, + our greatness—as a nation. True, she has built other monuments, and + stately ones, as well; but these she has uplifted in honor of two or three + colossal demigods who have stalked across the world’s stage, destroying + tyrants and delivering nations, and whose prodigies will still live in the + memories of men ages after their monuments shall have crumbled to dust—I + refer to the Wellington and Nelson monuments, and—the Albert + memorial. [Sarcasm. The Albert memorial is the finest monument in the + world, and celebrates the existence of as commonplace a person as good + luck ever lifted out of obscurity.] + </p> + <p> + The library at the British Museum I find particularly astounding. I have + read there hours together, and hardly made an impression on it. I revere + that library. It is the author’s friend. I don’t care how mean a book is, + it always takes one copy. [A copy of every book printed in Great Britain + must by law be sent to the British Museum, a law much complained of by + publishers.] And then every day that author goes there to gaze at that + book, and is encouraged to go on in the good work. And what a touching + sight it is of a Saturday afternoon to see the poor, careworn clergymen + gathered together in that vast reading-room cabbaging sermons for + Sunday. You will pardon my referring to these things. + </p> + <p> + Everything in this monster city interests me, and I cannot keep from + talking, even at the risk of being instructive. People here seem always to + express distances by parables. To a stranger it is just a little confusing + to be so parabolic—so to speak. I collar a citizen, and I think I am + going to get some valuable information out of him. I ask him how far it is + to Birmingham, and he says it is twenty-one shillings and sixpence. Now we + know that doesn’t help a man who is trying to learn. I find myself + down-town somewhere, and I want to get some sort of idea where I am—being + usually lost when alone—and I stop a citizen and say: “How far is it + to Charing Cross?” “Shilling fare in a cab,” and off he goes. I suppose if + I were to ask a Londoner how far it is from the sublime to the + ridiculous, he would try to express it in coin. But I am trespassing upon + your time with these geological statistics and historical reflections. I + will not longer keep you from your orgies. ’Tis a real pleasure for me to + be here, and I thank you for it. The name of the Savage Club is associated + in my mind with the kindly interest and the friendly offices which you + lavished upon an old friend of mine who came among you a stranger, and you + opened your English hearts to him and gave him welcome and a home—Artemus + Ward. Asking that you will join me, I give you his memory. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0103" id="link2H_4_0103"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PRINCETON + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Mr. Clemens spent several days in May, 1901, in Princeton, New + Jersey, as the guest of Lawrence Hutton. He gave a reading one + evening before a large audience composed of university students + and professors. Before the reading Mr. Clemens said: +</pre> + <p> + I feel exceedingly surreptitious in coming down here without an + announcement of any kind. I do not want to see any advertisements around, + for the reason that I’m not a lecturer any longer. I reformed long ago, + and I break over and commit this sin only just one time this year: and + that is moderate, I think, for a person of my disposition. It is not my + purpose to lecture any more as long as I live. I never intend to stand up + on a platform any more—unless by the request of a sheriff or + something like that. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0104" id="link2H_4_0104"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE ST. LOUIS HARBOR-BOAT “MARK TWAIN” + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The Countess de Rochambeau christened the St. Louis harbor-boat + ‘Mark Twain’ in honor of Mr. Clemens, June 6, 1902. Just + before the luncheon he acted as pilot. + + “Lower away lead!” boomed out the voice of the pilot. + + “Mark twain, quarter five and one-half-six feet!” replied the + leadsman below. + + “You are all dead safe as long as I have the wheel—but this is + my last time at the wheel.” + + At the luncheon Mr. Clemens made a short address. +</pre> + <p> + First of all, no—second of all—I wish to offer my thanks for + the honor done me by naming this last rose of summer of the Mississippi + Valley for me, this boat which represents a perished interest, which I + fortified long ago, but did not save its life. And, in the first place, I + wish to thank the Countess de Rochambeau for the honor she has done me in + presiding at this christening. + </p> + <p> + I believe that it is peculiarly appropriate that I should be allowed the + privilege of joining my voice with the general voice of St. Louis and + Missouri in welcoming to the Mississippi Valley and this part of the + continent these illustrious visitors from France. + </p> + <p> + When La Salle came down this river a century and a quarter ago there was + nothing on its banks but savages. He opened up this great river, and by + his simple act was gathered in this great Louisiana territory. I would + have done it myself for half the money. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0105" id="link2H_4_0105"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ADDRESS AT A DINNER GIVEN BY COLONEL GEORGE HARVEY AT + DELMONICO’S, DECEMBER 5, 1905, TO CELEBRATE THE SEVENTIETH + ANNIVERSARY OF MR. CLEMENS’ BIRTH + + Mr. Howells introduced Mr. Clemens: + + “Now, ladies and gentlemen, and Colonel Harvey, I will try not + to be greedy on your behalf in wishing the health of our + honored and, in view of his great age, our revered guest. I + will not say, ‘Oh King, live forever!’ but ‘Oh King, live as + long as you like!’” [Amid great applause and waving of napkins + all rise and drink to Mark Twain.] +</pre> + <p> + Well, if I made that joke, it is the best one I ever made, and it is in + the prettiest language, too.—I never can get quite to that height. + But I appreciate that joke, and I shall remember it—and I shall use + it when occasion requires. + </p> + <p> + I have had a great many birthdays in my time. I remember the first one + very well, and I always think of it with indignation; everything was so + crude, unaesthetic, primeval. Nothing like this at all. No proper + appreciative preparation made; nothing really ready. Now, for a person + born with high and delicate instincts—why, even the cradle wasn’t + whitewashed—nothing ready at all. I hadn’t any hair, I hadn’t any + teeth, I hadn’t any clothes, I had to go to my first banquet just like + that. Well, everybody came swarming in. It was the merest little bit of a + village—hardly that, just a little hamlet, in the backwoods of + Missouri, where nothing ever happened, and the people were all interested, + and they all came; they looked me over to see if there was anything fresh + in my line. Why, nothing ever happened in that village—I—why, + I was the only thing that had really happened there for months and months + and months; and although I say it myself that shouldn’t, I came the + nearest to being a real event that had happened in that village in more + than two years. Well, those people came, they came with that curiosity + which is so provincial, with that frankness which also is so provincial, + and they examined me all around and gave their opinion. Nobody asked them, + and I shouldn’t have minded if anybody had paid me a compliment, but + nobody did. Their opinions were all just green with prejudice, and I feel + those opinions to this day. Well, I stood that as long as—well, you + know I was born courteous, and I stood it to the limit. I stood it an + hour, and then the worm turned. I was the worm; it was my turn to turn, + and I turned. I knew very well the strength of my position; I knew that I + was the only spotlessly pure and innocent person in that whole town, and I + came out and said so: And they could not say a word. It was so true: They + blushed; they were embarrassed. Well, that was the first after-dinner + speech I ever made: I think it was after dinner. + </p> + <p> + It’s a long stretch between that first birthday speech and this one. That + was my cradle-song; and this is my swan-song, I suppose. I am used to + swan-songs; I have sung them several times. + </p> + <p> + This is my seventieth birthday, and I wonder if you all rise to the size + of that proposition, realizing all the significance of that phrase, + seventieth birthday. + </p> + <p> + The seventieth birthday! It is the time of life when you arrive at a new + and awful dignity; when you may throw aside the decent reserves which have + oppressed you for a generation and stand unafraid and unabashed upon your + seven-terraced summit and look down and teach—unrebuked. You can + tell the world how you got there. It is what they all do. You shall never + get tired of telling by what delicate arts and deep moralities you climbed + up to that great place. You will explain the process and dwell on the + particulars with senile rapture. I have been anxious to explain my own + system this long time, and now at last I have the right. + </p> + <p> + I have achieved my seventy years in the usual way: by sticking strictly to + a scheme of life which would kill anybody else. It sounds like an + exaggeration, but that is really the common rule for attaining to old age. + When we examine the programme of any of these garrulous old people we + always find that the habits which have preserved them would have decayed + us; that the way of life which enabled them to live upon the property of + their heirs so long, as Mr. Choate says, would have put us out of + commission ahead of time. I will offer here, as a sound maxim, this: That + we can’t reach old age by another man’s road. + </p> + <p> + I will now teach, offering my way of life to whomsoever desires to commit + suicide by the scheme which has enabled me to beat the doctor and the + hangman for seventy years. Some of the details may sound untrue, but they + are not. I am not here to deceive; I am here to teach. + </p> + <p> + We have no permanent habits until we are forty. Then they begin to harden, + presently they petrify, then business begins. Since forty I have been + regular about going to bed and getting up—and that is one of the + main things. I have made it a rule to go to bed when there wasn’t anybody + left to sit up with; and I have made it a rule to get up when I had to. + This has resulted in an unswerving regularity of irregularity. It has + saved me sound, but it would injure another person. + </p> + <p> + In the matter of diet—which is another main thing—I have been + persistently strict in sticking to the things which didn’t agree with me + until one or the other of us got the best of it. Until lately I got the + best of it myself. But last spring I stopped frolicking with mince-pie + after midnight; up to then I had always believed it wasn’t loaded. For + thirty years I have taken coffee and bread at eight in the morning, and no + bite nor sup until seven-thirty in the evening. Eleven hours. That is all + right for me, and is wholesome, because I have never had a headache in my + life, but headachy people would not reach seventy comfortably by that + road, and they would be foolish to try it. And I wish to urge upon you + this—which I think is wisdom—that if you find you can’t make + seventy by any but an uncomfortable road, don’t you go. When they take off + the Pullman and retire you to the rancid smoker, put on your things, count + your checks, and get out at the first way station where there’s a + cemetery. + </p> + <p> + I have made it a rule never to smoke more than one cigar at a time. I have + no other restriction as regards smoking. I do not know just when I began + to smoke, I only know that it was in my father’s lifetime, and that I was + discreet. He passed from this life early in 1847, when I was a shade past + eleven; ever since then I have smoked publicly. As an example to others, + and—not that I care for moderation myself, it has always been my + rule never to smoke when asleep, and never to refrain when awake. It is a + good rule. I mean, for me; but some of you know quite well that it + wouldn’t answer for everybody that’s trying to get to be seventy. + </p> + <p> + I smoke in bed until I have to go to sleep; I wake up in the night, + sometimes once, sometimes twice; sometimes three times, and I never waste + any of these opportunities to smoke. This habit is so old and dear and + precious to me that I would feel as you, sir, would feel if you should + lose the only moral you’ve got—meaning the chairman—if you’ve + got one: I am making no charges: I will grant, here, that I have stopped + smoking now and then, for a few months at a time, but it was not on + principle, it was only to show off; it was to pulverize those critics who + said I was a slave to my habits and couldn’t break my bonds. + </p> + <p> + To-day it is all of sixty years since I began to smoke the limit. I have + never bought cigars with life-belts around them. I early found that those + were too expensive for me: I have always bought cheap cigars—reasonably + cheap, at any rate. Sixty years ago they cost me four dollars a barrel, + but my taste has improved, latterly, and I pay seven, now. Six or seven. + Seven, I think. Yes; it’s seven. But that includes the barrel. I often + have smoking-parties at my house; but the people that come have always + just taken the pledge. I wonder why that is? + </p> + <p> + As for drinking, I have no rule about that. When the others drink I like + to help; otherwise I remain dry, by habit and preference. This dryness + does not hurt me, but it could easily hurt you, because you are different. + You let it alone. + </p> + <p> + Since I was seven years old I have seldom taken a dose of medicine, and + have still seldomer needed one. But up to seven I lived exclusively on + allopathic medicines. Not that I needed them, for I don’t think I did; it + was for economy; my father took a drug-store for a debt, and it made + cod-liver oil cheaper than the other breakfast foods. We had nine barrels + of it, and it lasted me seven years. Then I was weaned. The rest of the + family had to get along with rhubarb and ipecac and such things, because I + was the pet. I was the first Standard Oil Trust. I had it all. By the time + the drugstore was exhausted my health was established, and there has never + been much the matter with me since. But you know very well it would be + foolish for the average child to start for seventy on that basis. It + happened to be just the thing for me, but that was merely an accident; it + couldn’t happen again in a century. + </p> + <p> + I have never taken any exercise, except sleeping and resting, and I never + intend to take any. Exercise is loathsome. And it cannot be any benefit + when you are tired; and I was always tired. But let another person try my + way, and see where he will come out. I desire now to repeat and emphasise + that maxim: We can’t reach old age by another man’s road. My habits + protect my life, but they would assassinate you. + </p> + <p> + I have lived a severely moral life. But it would be a mistake for other + people to try that, or for me to recommend it. Very few would succeed: you + have to have a perfectly colossal stock of morals; and you can’t get them + on a margin; you have to have the whole thing, and put them in your box. + Morals are an acquirement—like music, like a foreign language, like + piety, poker, paralysis—no man is born with them. I wasn’t myself, I + started poor. I hadn’t a single moral. There is hardly a man in this house + that is poorer than I was then. Yes, I started like that—the world + before me, not a moral in the slot. Not even an insurance moral. I can + remember the first one I ever got. I can remember the landscape, the + weather, the—I can remember how everything looked. It was an old + moral, an old second-hand moral, all out of repair, and didn’t fit, + anyway. But if you are careful with a thing like that, and keep it in a + dry place, and save it for processions, and Chautauquas, and World’s + Fairs, and so on, and disinfect it now and then, and give it a fresh coat + of whitewash once in a while, you will be surprised to see how well she + will last and how long she will keep sweet, or at least inoffensive. When + I got that mouldy old moral, she had stopped growing, because she hadn’t + any exercise; but I worked her hard, I worked her Sundays and all. Under + this cultivation she waxed in might and stature beyond belief, and served + me well and was my pride and joy for sixty-three years; then she got to + associating with insurance presidents, and lost flesh and character, and + was a sorrow to look at and no longer competent for business. She was a + great loss to me. Yet not all loss. I sold her—ah, pathetic + skeleton, as she was—I sold her to Leopold, the pirate King of + Belgium; he sold her to our Metropolitan Museum, and it was very glad to + get her, for without a rag on, she stands 57 feet long and 16 feet high, + and they think she’s a brontosaur. Well, she looks it. They believe it + will take nineteen geological periods to breed her match. + </p> + <p> + Morals are of inestimable value, for every man is born crammed with sin + microbes, and the only thing that can extirpate these sin microbes is + morals. Now you take a sterilized Christian—I mean, you take the + sterilized Christian, for there’s only one. Dear sir, I wish you wouldn’t + look at me like that. + </p> + <p> + Threescore years and ten! + </p> + <p> + It is the Scriptural statute of limitations. After that, you owe no active + duties; for you the strenuous life is over. You are a time-expired man, to + use Kipling’s military phrase: You have served your term, well or less + well, and you are mustered out. You are become an honorary member of the + republic, you are emancipated, compulsions are not for you, nor any + bugle-call but “lights out.” You pay the time-worn duty bills if you + choose, or decline if you prefer—and without prejudice—for + they are not legally collectable. + </p> + <p> + The previous-engagement plea, which in forty years has cost you so many + twinges, you can lay aside forever; on this side of the grave you will + never need it again. If you shrink at thought of night, and winter, and + the late home-coming from the banquet and the lights and the laughter + through the deserted streets—a desolation which would not remind you + now, as for a generation it did, that your friends are sleeping, and you + must creep in a-tiptoe and not disturb them, but would only remind you + that you need not tiptoe, you can never disturb them more—if you + shrink at thought of these things, you need only reply, “Your invitation + honors me, and pleases me because you still keep me in your remembrance, + but I am seventy; seventy, and would nestle in the chimney-corner, and + smoke my pipe, and read my book, and take my rest, wishing you well in all + affection; and that when you in your return shall arrive at pier No. 70 + you may step aboard your waiting ship with a reconciled spirit, and lay + your course toward the sinking sun with a contented heart.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mark Twain’s Speeches +by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARK TWAIN’S SPEECHES *** + +***** This file should be named 3188-h.htm or 3188-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/8/3188/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” + or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’ WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. + +The Foundation’s principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation’s web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + </body> +</html> |