We expected to be amused, but we were taken by surprise when he carried us on the wings of his redundant fancy, away to the ruins, the cathedrals, and the monuments of the old world. There are some passages of gorgeous word painting which haunt us like a remembered picture.

We congratulate Mr. Twain upon having taken the tide of public favor “at the flood” in the lecture field, and having conclusively proved that a man may be a humorist without being a clown. He has elevated the profession by his graceful delivery and by recognizing in his audience something higher than merely a desire to laugh. (Mary Mason Fairbanks 1868)

I came here once with a new lecture about the Innocents Abroad that I had prepared. I thought that I had mastered it; but alas, I found out otherwise. I had launched out and was sailing along beautifully when a gentleman and lady who perhaps had to take an early train got up to go out. The little occurrence threw me off the track. Suddenly I forgot where I was. I couldn’t for the life of me tell where I left off. I paused and tried to think, and the pause became very embarrassing—finally seemed to become amusing to the audience. I assure you it was not so to me. As the laughter increased I grew frantic and frankly admitted that I had lost my place, and said that I would be everlastingly obliged if some one in the audience would tell me where I left off. The effect of this was to make the audience laugh harder than before. They thought it was a joke, although I still insisted that it was not. Finally, when the suspense had become overpowering, an angel—with a bald head—arose and asked me if I was really in earnest in desiring to know which lie I was telling. I said I was, and the gentleman kindly told me. I shall never forget that good man. It was Mr. Solon Severance. (“When Mark Twain read...,” New York Evening Post, 22 Dec 84, clipping in CtY-BR)