NOTEBOOK

must be substance beneath it. Cervantes would not be
remembered today if Don Quixote and Sancha Panza
underneath all the absurdities of their literary dress had
not been vital in their philosophy. If humor survive, it is
because it decorates something that is alive and will con-
tinue to live through the generations—in a word, truth.
The decoration alone will not endure.

Any attempt to discover a hidden, subtle psychology in
the writings of Mark Twain I think must be an effort far
afield. I think iso because of my knowledge of him and be-
cause of his knowledge of himself. Once when he came
upon something of the sort he said:

"I wish I could understand what in the nation that man
is driving at. He has a superstition that he means some-
thing, but it misses me altogether."

If there ever was a man who said what he meant, in
the fewest number of words, it was Mark Twain.

Many have sought to compare him with other laughing
philosophers, ancient and modern. He does not lend him-
self to that, either. Now and then, from the remoter dis-
tances there comes to this flitting island a mysterious
visitant, a superhuman soul. Such a stranger is not to be
classified, not to be compared. He may leave a class be-
hind him, but he does not enter one on arrival; and such
arrivals are too infrequent to admit of duplication.

One must wonder, at times, where Mark Twain will
rank in the long eons of the ages. When so many have
gone by that the student will have to think a little before
he can decide whether Mark Twain was a contemporary
of Aristophanes or of William Shakespeare. Little of the
mighty ruck of literature of this day—of any day—can
survive. One may believe that something of Mark Twain's
will be among that little.

For he was a giant in his day; he struck deeply into
the earth and digged up gold. We do not destroy gold,

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