5

name to the illustrious three, and record another failure of your hopes. For-in shame and sadness do I speak it, Ernest — I 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?"

"You can hear in them the far-off echo of a heavenly song," replied the poet. "But my life, dear Ernest, has not corresponded with my thought. I have had 10 grand dreams, but they have been only dreams, because I have lived and that, too, by my own choice among poor and mean realities. Sometimes even shall I dare to say it? I lack faith in the grandeur, the beauty, and the goodness, which my own works are 15 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 20 tears. So, likewise, were those of Ernest.

At the hour of sunset, as had long been his frequent custom, Ernest was to speak to an assemblage of the neighboring inhabitants in the open air. He and the poet, arm in arm, still talking together as they 25 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 5 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 slantingly over them, and mingling its subdued cheerfulness 10 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.

15

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 20 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 25 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 10 grandeur of expression so filled 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!"

15 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 him20 self would by and by appear, bearing a resemblance to the GREAT STONE FACE.

QUESTIONS AND SUGGESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

1. Why did Ernest "shake his

head and sigh" when he
looked at the poet?

2. How did the poet explain his
own shortcomings? Why
did he fail to become
the true image? Read

3.

this part aloud in class again.

Wherein was the poet greater

than any of the other men who were thought to resemble the Great Stone Face? "For as a man

thinketh in his heart, so is | 7. Now why did Hawthorne

he."

4. What did the poet and Ernest 8.
do as the sun was setting?
Describe the scene. Tell
how Ernest spoke from the
natural pulpit. What did
the poet discover while
Ernest was speaking?
What did he say?
5. Was Ernest proud of himself
when his likeness to the
Great Stone Face was dis-
covered? Why could he
not be? What did he
still hope as he walked
home?

6. Try to tell how he had
gradually become like the
Great Stone Face.

call his hero "Ernest "? Ernest in the story was undoubtedly Ralph Waldo Emerson, the great American philosopher. He lived near Boston in the famous little town of Concord, where his home may still be seen. Ernest in this story is a true picture of him. Hawthorne knew him intimately, just as he did Franklin Pierce and Longfellow. Hawthorne said of Emerson," It is impossible to dwell in his vicinity without inhaling more or less the mountain atmosphere of his lofty thought."

ABOUT OURSELVES

This story will be of little value to us, unless it makes us think about ourselves in relation to the Great Stone Face, just as Hawthorne meant that it should. He meant to awaken in each one of us this thought: "Is what I desire selfish or unselfish? Am I keeping my eyes always on good things? What is my Great Stone Face"?

In the little poem called "The Bluebell," the poet says,

"The patient child whose watchful eye

Strives after all things pure and high,
Shall take their image by and by."

THE SONG OF THE CHATTAHOOCHEE

SIDNEY LANIER

Poets have found great life lessons in Nature. In this very remarkable poem, Sidney Lanier, one of America's greatest poets, gives us an example of Duty, an example of duty done at all cost whatsoever.

The Chattahoochee River rises just outside the county line of Habersham County, Georgia, runs out of "the Hills of Habersham," down through "the Valleys of Hall" (County), and then on and down toward the Gulf of Mexico.

In its southern portion, the Chattahoochee flows through a fine, fertile plain, where its waters moisten the soil and help to make the fine crops grow that are produced on this plain.

In the poem, the river is speaking. Let us see what it says. It tells us how it flows

"Out of the hills of Habersham,

Down the valleys of Hall,

Accept my bed, or narrow or wide,
And flee from folly on every side."

Why is it hurrying? It has a duty to perform. Far, far down on the plain, the fields are suffering for water, and the river must hurry on to quench their thirst.

All human beings know that, when they have before them a great duty, temptations on all sides lure them to pleasures and away from the duty. It was just so with the Chattahoochee.