the great stone face-第4章

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characterized　him　from　boyhood；　and　spoke　freely　with　them　of

whatever　came　uppermost；　or　lay　deepest　in　his　heart　or　their

own。　While　they　talked　together；　his　face　would　kindle；　unawares；

and　shine　upon　them；　as　with　a　mild　evening　light。　Pensive　with

the　fulness　of　such　discourse；　his　guests　took　leave　and　went

their　way；　and　passing　up　the　valley；　paused　to　look　at　the　Great

Stone　Face；　imagining　that　they　had　seen　its　likeness　in　a　human

countenance；　but　could　not　remember　where。



While　Ernest　had　been　growing　up　and　growing　old；　a　bountiful

Providence　had　granted　a　new　poet　to　this　earth。　He　likewise；　was

a　native　of　the　valley；　but　had　spent　the　greater　part　of　his

life　at　a　distance　from　that　romantic　region；　pouring　out　his

sweet　music　amid　the　bustle　and　din　of　cities。　Often；　however；

did　the　mountains　which　had　been　familiar　to　him　in　his　childhood

lift　their　snowy　peaks　into　the　clear　atmosphere　of　his　poetry。

Neither　was　the　Great　Stone　Face　forgotten；　for　the　poet　had

celebrated　it　in　an　ode；　which　was　grand　enough　to　have　been

uttered　by　its　own　majestic　lips。　This　man　of　genius；　we　may　say；

had　come　down　from　heaven　with　wonderful　endowments。　If　he　sang

of　a　mountain；　the　eyes　of　all　mankind　beheld　a　mightier　grandeur

reposing　on　its　breast；　or　soaring　to　its　summit；　than　had　before

been　seen　there。　If　his　theme　were　a　lovely　lake；　a　celestial

smile　had　now　been　thrown　over　it；　to　gleam　forever　on　its

surface。　If　it　were　the　vast　old　sea；　even　the　deep　immensity　of

its　dread　bosom　seemed　to　swell　the　higher；　as　if　moved　by　the

emotions　of　the　song。　Thus　the　world　assumed　another　and　a　better

aspect　from　the　hour　that　the　poet　blessed　it　with　his　happy

eyes。　The　Creator　had　bestowed　him；　as　the　last　best　touch　to　his

own　handiwork。　Creation　was　not　finished　till　the　poet　came　to

interpret；　and　so　complete　it。



The　effect　was　no　less　high　and　beautiful；　when　his　human

brethren　were　the　subject　of　his　verse。　The　man　or　woman；　sordid

with　the　common　dust　of　life；　who　crossed　his　daily　path；　and　the

little　child　who　played　in　it；　were　glorified　if　he　beheld　them

in　his　mood　of　poetic　faith。　He　showed　the　golden　links　of　the

great　chain　that　intertwined　them　with　an　angelic　kindred；　he

brought　out　the　hidden　traits　of　a　celestial　birth　that　made　them

worthy　of　such　kin。　Some；　indeed；　there　were；　who　thought　to　show

the　soundness　of　their　judgment　by　affirming　that　all　the　beauty

and　dignity　of　the　natural　world　existed　only　in　the　poet's

fancy。　Let　such　men　speak　for　themselves；　who　undoubtedly　appear

to　have　been　spawned　forth　by　Nature　with　a　contemptuous

bitterness；　she　having　plastered　them　up　out　of　her　refuse　stuff；

after　all　the　swine　were　made。　As　respects　all　things　else；　the

poet's　ideal　was　the　truest　truth。



The　songs　of　this　poet　found　their　way　to　Ernest。　He　read　them

after　his　customary　toil；　seated　on　the　bench　before　his

cottage…door；　where　for　such　a　length　of　time　he　had　filled　his

repose　with　thought；　by　gazing　at　the　Great　Stone　Face。　And　now

as　he　read　stanzas　that　caused　the　soul　to　thrill　within　him；　he

lifted　his　eyes　to　the　vast　countenance　beaming　on　him　so

benignantly。



〃O　majestic　friend；〃　he　murmured；　addressing　the　Great　Stone

Face；　〃is　not　this　man　worthy　to　resemble　thee？〃



The　Face　seemed　to　smile；　but　answered　not　a　word。



Now　it　happened　that　the　poet；　though　he　dwelt　so　far　away；　had

not　only　heard　of　Ernest；　but　had　meditated　much　upon　his

character；　until　he　deemed　nothing　so　desirable　as　to　meet　this

man；　whose　untaught　wisdom　walked　hand　in　hand　with　the　noble

simplicity　of　his　life。　One　summer　morning；　therefore；　he　took

passage　by　the　railroad；　and；　in　the　decline　of　the　afternoon；

alighted　from　the　cars　at　no　great　distance　from　Ernest's

cottage。　The　great　hotel；　which　had　formerly　been　the　palace　of

Mr。　Gathergold；　was　close　at　hand；　but　the　poet；　with　his

carpet…bag　on　his　arm；　inquired　at　once　where　Ernest　dwelt；　and

was　resolved　to　be　accepted　as　his　guest。



Approaching　the　door；　he　there　found　the　good　old　man；　holding　a

volume　in　his　hand；　which　alternately　he　read；　and　then；　with　a

finger　between　the　leaves；　looked　lovingly　at　the　Great　Stone

Face。



〃Good　evening；〃　said　the　poet。　〃Can　you　give　a　traveller　a

night's　lodging？〃



〃Willingly；〃　answered　Ernest；　and　then　he　added；　smiling；

〃Methinks　I　never　saw　the　Great　Stone　Face　look　so　hospitably　at

a　stranger。〃



The　poet　sat　down　on　the　bench　beside　him；　and　he　and　Ernest

talked　together。　Often　had　the　poet　held　intercourse　with　the

wittiest　and　the　wisest；　but　never　before　with　a　man　like　Ernest；

whose　thoughts　and　feelings　gushed　up　with　such　a　natural

freedom；　and　who　made　great　truths　so　familiar　by　his　simple

utterance　of　them。　Angels；　as　had　been　so　often　said；　seemed　to

have　wrought　with　him　at　his　labor　in　the　fields；　angels　seemed

to　have　sat　with　him　by　the　fireside；　and；　dwelling　with　angels

as　friend　with　friends；　he　had　imbibed　the　sublimity　of　their

ideas；　and　imbued　it　with　the　sweet　and　lowly　charm　of　household

words。　So　thought　the　poet。　And　Ernest；　on　the　other　hand；　was

moved　and　agitated　by　the　living　images　which　the　poet　flung　out

of　his　mind；　and　which　peopled　all　the　air　about　the　cottage…door

with　shapes　of　beauty；　both　gay　and　pensive。　The　sympathies　of

these　two　men　instructed　them　with　a　profounder　sense　than　either

could　have　attained　alone。　Their　minds　accorded　into　one　strain；

and　made　delightful　music　which　neither　of　them　could　have

claimed　as　all　his　own；　nor　distinguished　his　own　share　from　the

other's。　They　led　one　another；　as　it　were；　into　a　high　pavilion

of　their　thoughts；　so　remote；　and　hitherto　so　dim；　that　they　had

never　entered　it　before；　and　so　beautiful　that　they　desired　to　be

there　always。



As　Ernest　listened　to　the　poet；　he　imagined　that　the　Great　Stone

Face　was　bending　forward　to　listen　too。　He　gazed　earnestly　into

the　poet's　glowing　eyes。



〃Who　are　you；　my　strangely　gifted　guest？〃　he　said。



The　poet　laid　his　finger　on　the　volume　that　Ernest　had　been

reading。



〃You　have　read　these　poems；〃　said　he。　〃You　know　me；　then；for　I

wrote　them。〃



Again；　and　still　more　earnestly　than　before；　Ernest　examined　the

poet's　features；　then　turned　towards　the　Great　Stone　Face；　then

back；　with　an　uncertain　aspect；　to　his　guest。　But　his　countenance

fell；　he　shook　his　head；　and　sighed。



〃Wherefore　are　you　sad？〃　inquired　the　poet。



〃Because；〃　replied　Ernest；　〃all　through　life　I　have　awaited　the

fulfilment　of　a　prophecy；　and；　when　I　read　these　poems；　I　hoped

that　it　might　be　fulfilled　in　you。〃



〃You　hoped；〃　answered　the　poet；　faintly　smiling；　〃to　find　in　me

the　likeness　of　the　Great　Stone　Face。　And　you　are　disappointed；

as　formerly　with　Mr。　Gathergold；　and　Old　Blood…and…Thunder；　and

Old　Stony　Phiz。　Yes；　Ernest；　it　is　my　doom。　You　must　add　my　name

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　res