humorous story as an American invention, and one
that has remained at home. His public speeches were little mosaics in
the finesse of their art; and the intricacies of inflection,
insinuation, jovial innuendo which Mark Twain threw into his gestures,
his implicative pauses, his suggestive shrugs and deprecative nods--all
these are hopelessly volatilized and disappear entirely from the printed
copy of his speeches. He gave the most minute and elaborate study to
the preparation of his speeches--polishing them dexterously and
rehearsing every word, every gesture, with infinite care. Yet his
readiness and fertility of resource in taking advantage, and making
telling use, of things in the speeches of those immediately preceding
him, were striking evidences of the rapidity of his thought-processes.
In Boston, when asked what he thought about the existence of a heaven or
a hell, he looked grave for a moment, and then replied: "I don't want to
express an opinion. It's policy for me to keep silent. You see, I have
friends in both places." His speech introducing General Hawley of
Connecticut to a Republican meeting at Elmira, New York, is an admirable
example of his laconic art: "General Hawley is a member of my church at
Hartford, and the author of 'Beautiful Snow.' Maybe he will deny that.
But I am only here to give him a character from his last place. As a
pure citizen, I respect him; as a personal friend of years, I have the
warmest regard for him; as a neighbour, whose vegetable garden adjoins
mine, why--why, I watch him. As the author of 'Beautiful Snow,' he has
added a new pang to winter. He is a square, true man in honest
politics, and I must say he occupies a mighty lonesome position.
So broad, so bountiful is his character that he never turned a tramp
empty-handed from his door, but always gave him a letter of introduction
to me. Pure, honest, incorruptible, that is Joe Hawley. Such a man in
politics is like a bottle of perfumery in a glue factory--it may modify
the stench, but it doesn't destroy it. I haven't said any more of him
than I would say of myself. Ladies and gentlemen, this is General
Hawley."

Mr. Chesterton maintains that Mark Twain was a wit rather than a
humorist--perhaps something more than a humorist. "Wit," he explains,
"requires an intellectual athleticism, because it is akin to logic. A
wit must have something of the same running, working, and staying power
as a mathematician or a met