INTRODUCTION

THE title story of this collection, "The Mysterious Stranger," was written at Vienna, during the early part of 1898. The idea of a wonderworking visitant from some remote realm was one which always appealed to Mark Twain's fancy, and he began a number of stories with this as the central idea. A friendly interest in the character of Satan, the angel fallen from his high estate, prompted him to select a member of that lineage for his hero, a beautiful youth, not wicked, but only indifferent to good and evil and suffering, having no personal knowledge of these things. The author made three extended attempts at this story, and one of them -- the first, and by far the best -- he brought very nearly to conclusion. Then he put these various beginnings away and did not examine them again for many years.

It was one day at Stormfield that he said to the writer of these pages:

"I always had a good deal of fancy for that story of mine, 'The Mysterious Stranger." I could finish it, I suppose, any time, and I should like it some day to be published."

Somewhat later I came upon a few notes he had made for the tale's conclusion, but it was not until a considerable time after his death -- after the publication of my biography of him, in fact, that I found among a confusion of papers that tremendous final chapter, which must have been written about the time of our conversation. It may even have been written prior to that time, laid aside, and forgotten, for his memory was very treacherous during those later days. The penmanship, however, closely identifies it with that period.

Happily, it was the ending of the story in its first form. The others, though not without fine writing, were lacking in interest, being mainly wanderings in those fantastic fields into which Mark Twain was prone to be tempted.

"The Mysterious Stranger" in its completed form was regarded as one of Mark Twain's important productions, and upon its appearance in Harper's Magazine was so recognized by the reading public. That chapters of it should disturb the sensibilities of orthodox readers was to be expected, and especially that final chapter, added in old age. An amazing piece of writing is that conclusion, high-water mark of its kind. Whether we agree with it or not, whether we understand it or not -- and very few of us are likely to do either -- we must turn to it again and again, to read it with a sort of terror and with an ever-increasing awe.

. . . . . .

There is neither space nor need to enter here into a discussion of Mark Twain's religious beliefs, but it is easy to understand that the early Christian idea of heaven with its pearly gates and golden streets and harps and white wings amused rather than impressed him. As far back as 1868, when he was on the voyage to California, an old seafaring friend, Captain Ed Wakeman, told him a curious dream of a visit to the next world, which dream Mark Twain promptly and gorgeously elaborated into a tale which he then called "Captain Ed Wakeman's Visit to Heaven." Mark Twain was rather fond of shocking his readers, and the publication of the Wakeman story at that time would very likely have jarred upon the nerves of a great many worthy persons. He brought it back from California with him, but he did not publish it. Olivia Langdon, who later became his wife, was already his literary censor, and Wakeman's dream became one of her early prohibitions. She was far from narrow, but she felt, properly enough, the unwisdom of publishing the story then. So it was banished to an ever-growing colony of manuscripts, where it lay lost to the world for a period of nearly forty years. Now and then, when some appreciative visitor like William Dean Howells came, Clemens would get out the Wakeman manuscript and read it aloud, and they would delight in its humor and wish the time for publication would arrive. Howells once went so far as to advise its publication in England, with an introduction -- or at least an indorsement -- by Dean Stanley; but this was probably only semi-serious counsel. At some time during the long period of waiting Clemens changed Wakeman's name to Stormfield, doubtless as being more suitable to his fictitious character.

The civilized world saw many important changes in forty years; so many new inventions and philosophies would hardly leave old religions unchanged. New beliefs were promulgated, old beliefs were modified. The newspapers and ministers, between them, banished hell, and even began to suggest that the white wings and golden harps, and the jeweled architecture of the early Christian fancy were to be regarded as symbols of hope rather than as potential rewards. The time for "Captain Stormfield" had come. Mark Twain re-read his extravaganza, gave it a modernizing touch or two, and handed it to his publishers, who must have agreed that it was no longer dangerous, for it was promptly accepted, and appeared in two numbers of Harper's Magazine. If there were any readers who still found it blasphemous, or even irreverent, they did not say so. The letters that came -- and they were a good many -- expressed enjoyment and approval; also, some of them, satisfaction that Mark Twain had returned to his earlier literary form.

"Stormfield" is an amusing tale, and Mark Twain often thought of continuing the fancy -- in fact, made some effort to do so. But perhaps the spirit of his first conception was gone, and the fragmentary chapters which he began now and then during his later days did not unite with the original idea. . . .

One day in the summer of 1905, at Dublin, New Hampshire, Mark Twain received a letter from Mrs. Minnie Maddern Fiske, in which she wrote:

Mark Twain replied that he would undertake the experiment, but that he could not tell when it would be finished. He began writing at once and, becoming interested, completed "A Horse's Tale" with very little delay. During the course of the writing he realized that the heroine he had in mind was his own dead daughter, Susy, and, in forwarding the manuscript, sent with it a picture of Susy, asking that the illustrations be made as like her as possible. When it was published, a year later, Mrs. Fiske sent her grateful acknowledgments, and asked permission to have it printed for pamphlet circulation in Spain. Perhaps it is not one of the greatest of Mark Twain's short stories, but its pathos brings tears, and stirs the reader's indignation toward the custom which it was intended to oppose.

ALBERT BIGELOW PAINE.