Mark Twain probably exaggerated his sentiments a good deal when in the Carlyle letter he claimed to be the most rabid of Sansculottes.  It is unlikely that he was ever very bare-kneed and crimson in his anarchy.  He believed always that cruelty should be swiftly punished, whether in king or commoner, and that tyrants should be destroyed.  He was for the people as against kings, and for the union of labor as opposed to the union of capital, though he wrote of such matters judicially—­not radically.  The Knights of Labor organization, then very powerful, seemed to Clemens the salvation of oppressed humanity.  He wrote a vehement and convincing paper on the subject, which he sent to Howells, to whom it appealed very strongly, for Howells was socialistic, in a sense, and Clemens made his appeal in the best and largest sense, dramatizing his conception in a picture that was to include, in one grand league, labor of whatever form, and, in the end, all mankind in a final millennium.  Howells wrote that he had read the essay “with thrills amounting to yells of satisfaction,” and declared it to be the best thing yet said on the subject.  The essay closed: 

He [the unionized workman] is here and he will remain.  He is the greatest birth of the greatest age the nations of the world have known.  You cannot sneer at him—­that time has gone by.  He has before him the most righteous work that was ever given into the hand of man to do; and he will do it.  Yes, he is here; and the question is not—­as it has been heretofore during a thousand ages—­What shall we do with him?  For the first time in history we are relieved of the necessity of managing his affairs for him.  He is not a broken dam this time—­he is the Flood!

It must have been about this time that Clemens developed an intense, even if a less permanent, interest in another matter which was to benefit the species.  He was one day walking up Fifth Avenue when he noticed the sign

Professor Loisette
school of memory
The Instantaneous Art of Never Forgetting

Clemens went inside.  When he came out he had all of Professor Loisette’s literature on “predicating correlation,” and for the next several days was steeping himself in an infusion of meaningless words and figures and sentences and forms, which he must learn backward and forward and diagonally, so that he could repeat them awake and asleep in order to predicate his correlation to a point where remembering the ordinary facts of life, such as names, addresses, and telephone numbers, would be a mere diversion.

It was another case of learning the multitudinous details of the Mississippi River in order to do the apparently simple thing of steering a boat from New Orleans to St. Louis, and it is fair to say that, for the time he gave it, he achieved a like success.  He was so enthusiastic over this new remedy for human distress that within a very brief time he was sending out a printed letter recommending Loisette to the public at large.  Here is an extract: