the great stone face-第6章
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to the illustrious three； and record another failure of your
hopes。 Forin shame and sadness do I speak it； ErnestI am not
worthy to be typified by yonder benign and majestic image。〃
〃And why？〃 asked Ernest。 He pointed to the volume。 〃Are not those
thoughts divine？〃
〃They have a strain of the Divinity；〃 replied the poet。 〃You can
hear in them the far…off echo of a heavenly song。 But my life；
dear Ernest； has not corresponded with my thought。 I have had
grand dreams； but they have been only dreams； because I have
livedand that； too； by my own choiceamong poor and mean
realities。 Sometimes evenshall I dare to say it？I lack faith
in the grandeur； the beauty； and the goodness； which my own words
are said to have made more evident in nature and in human life。
Why； then； pure seeker of the good and true； shouldst thou hope
to find me； in yonder image of the divine？〃
The poet spoke sadly； and his eyes were dim with tears。 So；
likewise； were those of Ernest。
At the hour of sunset； as had long been his frequent custom；
Ernest was to discourse to an assemblage of the neighboring
inhabitants in the open air。 He and the poet； arm in arm； still
talking together as they went along； proceeded to the spot。 It
was a small nook among the hills； with a gray precipice behind；
the stern front of which was relieved by the pleasant foliage of
many creeping plants that made a tapestry for the naked rock； by
hanging their festoons from all its rugged angles。 At a small
elevation above the ground； set in a rich framework of verdure；
there appeared a niche； spacious enough to admit a human figure；
with freedom for such gestures as spontaneously accompany earnest
thought and genuine emotion。 Into this natural pulpit Ernest
ascended； and threw a look of familiar kindness around upon his
audience。 They stood； or sat； or reclined upon the grass； as
seemed good to each； with the departing sunshine falling
obliquely over them； and mingling its subdued cheerfulness with
the solemnity of a grove of ancient trees； beneath and amid the
boughs of which the golden rays were constrained to pass。 In
another direction was seen the Great Stone Face； with the same
cheer； combined with the same solemnity； in its benignant aspect。
Ernest began to speak； giving to the people of what was in his
heart and mind。 His words had power； because they accorded with
his thoughts； and his thoughts had reality and depth； because
they harmonized with the life which he had always lived。 It was
not mere breath that this preacher uttered； they were the words
of life； because a life of good deeds and holy love was melted
into them。 Pearls； pure and rich； had been dissolved into this
precious draught。 The poet； as he listened； felt that the being
and character of Ernest were a nobler strain of poetry than he
had ever written。 His eyes glistening with tears； he gazed
reverentially at the venerable man； and said within himself that
never was there an aspect so worthy of a prophet and a sage as
that mild； sweet； thoughtful countenance； with the glory of white
hair diffused about it。 At a distance； but distinctly to be seen；
high up in the golden light of the setting sun； appeared the
Great Stone Face； with hoary mists around it； like the white
hairs around the brow of Ernest。 Its look of grand beneficence
seemed to embrace the world。
At that moment； in sympathy with a thought which he was about to
utter； the face of Ernest assumed a grandeur of expression； so
imbued with benevolence； that the poet； by an irresistible
impulse； threw his arms aloft and shouted；〃Behold！ Behold！ Ernest
is himself the likeness of the Great Stone Face！〃
Then all the people looked； and saw that what the deep…sighted
poet said was true。 The prophecy was fulfilled。 But Ernest；
having finished what he had to say； took the poet's arm； and
walked slowly homeward； still hoping that some wiser and better
man than himself would by and by appear； bearing a resemblance to
the GREAT STONE FACE。
