MARK TWAIN.

The Lecture Last Evening.

Library Hall was crowded to repletion last evening to listen to Mark Twain’s lecture, “Roughing It.” The gentleman did not arrive in the city until a short time before the hour announced for his appearance, and the consequence was that the large audience was kept in waiting for some time before Mr. Twain made his appearance. He was preceded by Mr. Howard, of the Lecture Committee, who announced that the next lecture of the course would be delivered on Tuesday evening by Olive Logan, when she will discourse on “Nice Young Men.”

On making his appearance Mr. Twain introduced himself in a very humorous manner. He then gave some very interesting descriptions of life in Nevada, its mountains[,] lakes and rivers; the inhabitants, soil, birds, beasts, &c., which were most pleasantly interwoven with a series of telling jokes, humorous hits and, apparently, unconsciously delivered sallies of wit which convulsed the entire audience in the most uproarious laughter. To publish one of the lecturer’s humorous points would be but to debar a host of the readers of the Commercial in other cities in this vicinity, where Mr. Clements will appear, from enjoying them as they fall from the lecturer’s lips.

All present last evening appeared to thoroughly enjoy “Roughing it” and manifested their delight in the most effective manner. Mr. Clemens lectures in Kittanning to-night. (12 Jan 72, 4)

Mark Twain’s lecture was stenographed by a Pittsburg reporter and published. Mark took his little shot-gun and called on the reporter. The reporter said that he had been instructed to take it. “Yes,” said Mark, “and if my pocket book had been on the table you would have been instructed to take that too, I suppose.” (“Personal,” Buffalo Express, 26 Jan 72, 2)

Mark Twain will hardly ever again come to the city as a lecturer. We are duly sorry for the city. He thinks the newspaper reporters are little better than thieves, because they stole the good (?) points out of his recent lecture and published them. Mark is a much over-estimated clown. He has little originality and less genuine humor. He would hardly fill the bill for a police reporter on a first class journal, and yet he would aspire to the position of Horace Greeley, should that wise sage fall out of service. His lecture sounds well to those who never read the almanac literature of the day and we do not wonder that he is anxious that no word he speaks on the stage should be published, for “comparisons are odious.” We bid him a cordial good-bye, and hope some better stuff may be brought out during the season by our lecture giving committee to compensate for the gross fraud perpetrated on the intellectual community by introducing such a mountebank as Mark Twain, who now, so far as his literary reputation is concerned, like a swan is singing (at 75 dollars per song) before he dies. Let him rest. (“Brevities,” 15 Jan 72, 4)