mark twain, a biography, 1866-1875-第30部分

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smiled　during　the　hour　of　his　steady　reading。　　Clemens　recalled　what　he
had　heard　of　the　English　lack　of　humor。　　He　wondered　if　this　was　a　fair
example　of　it；　and　if　the　man　could　be　really　taking　seriously　every　word
he　was　reading。　　Clemens　could　not　look　at　the　scenery　any　more　for
watching　his　fellow…passenger；　waiting　with　a　fascinated　interest　for　the
paragraph　that　would　break　up　that　iron…clad　solemnity。　　It　did　not　come。
During　all　the　rest　of　the　trip　to　London　the　atmosphere　of　the
compartment　remained　heavy　with　gloom。

He　drove　to　the　Langham　Hotel；　always　popular　with　Americans；　established
himself；　and　went　to　look　up　his　publishers。　　He　found　the　Routledges
about　to　sit　down　to　luncheon　in　a　private　room；　up…stairs；　in　their
publishing　house。　　He　joined　them；　and　not　a　soul　stirred　from　that　table
again　until　evening。　　The　Routledges　had　never　heard　Mark　Twain　talk
before；　never　heard　any　one　talk　who　in　the　least　resembled　him。　　Various
refreshments　were　served　during　the　afternoon；　came　and　went；　while　this
marvelous　creature　talked　on　and　they　listened；　reveling；　and　wondering
if　America　had　any　more　of　that　sort　at　home。　　By　and　by　dinner　was
served；　then　after　a　long　time；　when　there　was　no　further　excuse　for
keeping　him　there；　they　took　him　to　the　Savage　Club；　where　there　were　yet
other　refreshments　and　a　gathering　of　the　clans　to　welcome　this　new
arrival　as　a　being　from　some　remote　and　unfamiliar　star。

Tom　Hood；　the　younger；　was　there；　and　Harry　Lee；　and　Stanley　the
explorer；　who　had　but　just　returned　from　finding　Livingstone；　and　Henry
Irving；　and　many　another　whose　name　remains；　though　the　owners　of　those
names　are　all　dead　now；　and　their　laughter　and　their　good…fellowship　are
only　a　part　of　that　intangible　fabric　which　we　call　the　past。'　＇Clemens
had　first　known　Stanley　as　a　newspaper　man。　　〃I　first　met　him　when　he
reported　a　lecture　of　mine　in　St。　Louis；〃　he　said　once　in　a　conversation
where　the　name　of　Stanley　was　mentioned。＇




LXXXVI

ENGLAND

》From　that　night　Mark　Twain's　stay　in　England　could　not　properly　be　called
a　gloomy　one。

Routledge；　Hood；　Lee；　and；　in　fact；　all　literary　London；　set　themselves
the　task　of　giving　him　a　good　time。　　Whatever　place　of　interest　they
could　think　of　he　was　taken　there；　whatever　there　was　to　see　he　saw　it。
Dinners；　receptions；　and　assemblies　were　not　complete　without　him。　　The
White　Friars'　Club　and　others　gave　banquets　in　his　honor。　　He　was　the
sensation　of　the　day。　　When　he　rose　to　speak　on　these　occasions　he　was
greeted　with　wild　cheers。　　Whatever　he　said　they　eagerly　applaudedtoo
eagerly　sometimes；　in　the　fear　that　they　might　be　regarded　as　insensible
to　American　humor。　　Other　speakers　delighted　in　chaffing　him　in　order　to
provoke　his　retorts。　　When　a　speaker　humorously　referred　to　his　American
habit　of　carrying　a　cotton　umbrella；　his　reply　that　he　followed　this
custom　because　a　cotton　umbrella　was　the　only　kind　of　an　umbrella　that　an
Englishman　wouldn't　steal；　was　all　over　England　next　day；　and　regarded　as
one　of　the　finest　examples　of　wit　since　the　days　of　Swift。

The　suddenness　and　completeness　of　his　acceptance　by　the　great　ones　of
London　rather　overwhelmed　and　frightened　him　made　him　timid。　　Joaquin
Miller　writes：

　　　　　He　was　shy　as　a　girl；　although　time　was　already　coyly　flirting　white
　　　　　flowers　at　his　temples；　and　could　hardly　be　coaxed　to　meet　the
　　　　　learned　and　great　who　wanted　to　take　him　by　the　hand。

Many　came　to　call　on　him　at　his　hotel；　among　them　Charles　Reade　and　Canon
Kingsley。　　Kingsley　came　twice　without　finding　him；　then　wrote；　asking
for　an　appointment。　　Reade　invited　his　assistance　on　a　novel。　　Indeed；　it
was　in　England　that　Mark　Twain　was　first　made　to　feel　that　he　had　come
into　his　rightful　heritage。　　Whatever　may　have　been　the　doubts　concerning
him　in　America；　there　was　no　question　in　England。　　Howells　says：

　　　　　In　England　rank；　fashion；　and　culture　rejoiced　in　him。　　Lord　mayors；
　　　　　lord　chief　justices；　and　magnates　of　many　kinds　were　his　hosts；　he
　　　　　was　desired　in　country　houses；　and　his　bold　genius　captivated　the
　　　　　favor　of　periodicals　which　spurned　the　rest　of　our　nation。

After　that　first　visit　of　Mark　Twain's；　when　Americans　in　England；
referring　to　their　great　statesmen；　authors；　and　the　like；　naturally
mentioned　the　names　of　Seward；　Webster；　Lowell；　or　Holmes；　the　English
comment　was　likely　to　be：　〃Never　mind　those。　　We　can　turn　out　academic
Sewards　by　the　dozen；　and　cultured　humorists　like　Lowell　and　Holmes　by
the　score。　　Tell　us　of　Lincoln；　Artemus　Ward；　and　Mark　Twain。　　We　cannot
match　these；　they　interest　us。〃　　And　it　was　true。　　History　could　not
match　them；　for　they　were　unique。

Clemens　would　have　been　more　than　human　if　in　time　he　had　not　realized
the　fuller　meaning　of　this　triumph；　and　exulted　in　it　a　little　to　the
folks　at　home。　　There　never　lived　a　more　modest；　less　pretentious；　less
aggressive　man　than　Mark　Twain；　but　there　never　lived　a　man　who　took　a
more　childlike　delight　in　genuine　appreciation；　and；　being　childlike；　it
was　only　human　that　he　should　wish　those　nearest　to　him　to　share　his
happiness。　　After　one　memorable　affair　he　wrote：

　　　　　I　have　been　received　in　a　sort　of　tremendous　way　to…night　by　the
　　　　　brains　of　London；　assembled　at　the　annual　dinner　of　the　sheriffs　of
　　　　　London；　mine　being　（between　you　and　me）　a　name　which　was　received
　　　　　with　a　thundering　outburst　of　spontaneous　applause　when　the　long
　　　　　list　of　guests　was　called。

I　might　have　perished　on　the　spot　but　for　the　friendly　support　and
assistance　of　my　excellent　friend；　Sir　John　Bennett。

This　letter　does　not　tell　all　of　the　incident　or　the　real　reason　why　he
might　have　perished　on　the　spot。　　During　the　long　roll…call　of　guests　he
had　lost　interest　a　little；　and　was　conversing　in　whispers　with　his
〃excellent　friend；〃　Sir　John　Bennett；　stopping　to　applaud　now　and　then
when　the　applause　of　the　others　indicated　that　some　distinguished　name
had　been　pronounced。　　All　at　once　the　applause　broke　out　with　great
vehemence。　　This　must　be　some　very　distinguished　person　indeed。　　He
joined　in　it　with　great　enthusiasm。　　When　it　was　over　he　whispered　to　Sir
John：

〃Whose　name　was　that　we　were　just　applauding？〃

〃Mark　Twain's。〃

Whereupon　the　support　was　needed。

Poor　little　pirate　Hotten　did　not　have　a　happy　time　during　this　visit。
He　had　reveled　in　the　prospect　at　first；　for　he　anticipated　a　large
increase　to　be　derived　from　his　purloined　property；　but　suddenly；　one
morning；　he　was　aghast　to　find　in　the　Spectator　a　signed　letter　from　Mark
Twain；　in　which　he　was　repudiated；　referred　to　as　〃John　Camden
Hottentot；〃　an　unsavory　person　generally。　　Hotten　also　sent　a　letter　to
the　Spectator；　in　which　he　attempted　to　justify　himself；　but　it　was　a
feeble　performance。　　Clemens　prepared　two　other　communications；　each
worse　than　the　other　and　both　more　destructive　than　the　first　one。　　But
these　were　only　to　relieve　his　mind。　　He　did　not　print　them。　　In　one　of
them　he　pursued　the　fancy　of　John　Camden　Hottentot；　whom　he　offers　as　a
specimen　to　the　Zoological　Gardens。

It　is　not　a　bird。　　It　is　not　a　man。　　It　is　not　a　fish。　　It　does　not　seem
to　be　in　all　respects　a　reptile。　　It　has　the　body　and　features　of　a　man；
but　scarcely　any　of　the　instincts　that　belong　to　such　a　structure。。。。　　I
am　sure　that　this　singular　little　creature　is　the　missing　link　between
the　man　and　the　hyena。

Hotten　had　preyed　upon　explorer　Stanley　and　libeled　him　in　a　so…called。
biography　to　a　degree　that　had　really　aroused　some　feeling　against
Stanley　in　England。　　Only　for　the　momentthe　Queen　invited　Stanley　to
luncheon；　and　newspaper　criticism　ceased。　　Hotten　was　in　general
disrepute；　therefore；　so　it　was　not　worth　while　throwing　a　second　brick
at　him。

In　fact；　now　that　Clemens　had　expended　his　venom；　on　paper；　Hotten　seemed
to　him　rather　an　amusing　figure　than　otherwise。　　An　incident　grew　out　of
it　all；　however；　that　was　not　amusing。　　E。　P。　Hingston；　whom　the　reader
may　remember　as　having　been　with　Artemus　Ward　in　Virginia　City；　and　one
of　that　happy　group　that　wined　and　dined　the　year　away；　had　been　engaged
by　Hotten　to　write　the　introductory　to　his　edition　of　The　Innocents
Abroad。　　It　was　a　well…written；　highly　complimentary　appreciation。
Hingston　did　not　dream　that　he　was　committing　an　offense；　nor　did　Clemens
himself　regard　it　as　such　in　the　beginning。

But　Mark　Twain's　views　had　undergone　a　radical　change；　and　with
characteristic　dismissal　of　previous　conditions　he　had　forgotten　that　he
had　ever　had　any　other　views　than　those　he　now　held。　　Hingston　was　in
London；　and　one　evening；　at　a　gathering；　approached　Clemens　with
outstretched　hand。　　But　Clemens　failed　to　see　Hingston's　hand　or　to
recognize　him。　　In　after…years　his　conscience　hurt　him　terribly　for　this。
He　remembered　it　only　with　remorse　and　shame。　　Once；　in　his　old　age；　he
spoke　of　it　with　deep　sorrow。




LXXXVII

THE　BOOK　THAT　WAS　NEVER　WRITTEN

The　book　on　England；　which　he　had　prepared　for　so　carefully；　was　never
written。　　Hundreds　of　the　stylographic　pages　were　filled；　and　the
duplicates　sent　home　for　the　entertainment　of　Olivia　Clemens；　but　the
notes　were　not　completed；　and　the　actual　writing　was　never　begun。　　There
was　too　much　sociability　in　London　for　one　thing；　and　then　he　found　that
he　could　not　write　entertainingly　of　England　without　introducing　too　many
personalities；　and　running　the　risk　of　offending　those　who　had　taken　him
into　their　hearts　and　homes。　　In　a　word；　he　would　have　to　write　too
seriously　or　not　at　all。

He　began　his　memoranda　industriously　enough；　and　the　volume　might　have
been　as　charming　and　as　valuable　as　any　he　has　left　behind。　　The　reader
will　hardly　fail　to　find　a　few　of　the　entries　interesting。　　They　are
offered　here　as　examples　of　his　daily　observation　during　those　early
weeks　of　his　stay；　and　to　show　somewhat　of　his　purpose：

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　AN　EXPATRIATE

　　　　　There　was　once　an　American　thief　who　fled　his　country　and　took
　　　　　refuge　in　England。　　He　dressed　himself　after　the　fashion　of　the
　　　　　Londoners；　and　taught　his　tongue　the　peculiarities　of　the　London
　　　　　pronunciation　and　did　his　b