The civilization of the East, its culture and
refinement, tempered the genius of Mark Twain in conformity with the
indispensable criteria of classic art. Under the broadening influence
of its persistent nationalism, he became more deeply, more profoundly,
imbued with the comprehensive ideals of American democracy. He never
lost the first fine virginal spontaneity of his native style, never
weakened in the vigour of his thought or in the primitiveness of his
expression. His contact with the East compassed the liberation of that
vast fund of stored--up early experiences, acquired through grappling
with life in many a rude encounter.
Out of its own life, the East never contributed to Mark Twain's works,
in any appreciably momentous way, either volume or immensity of fertile,
suggestive human experience. If we eliminate from the list of Mark
Twain's works those books which have their roots deep set in the soil of
South and West, we eliminate the most priceless assets of his art.
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