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. Approaching Ernest's door, he there found the good old man, holding a volume in his hand, which 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 conversed 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. So thought the poet. And Ernest, on the other hand, was moved 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. 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 toward the Great Stone Face; then back 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 Bloodand-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. For - in shame and sadness do I speak it, Ernest—I am not worthy." "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 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 Í dare to say it? — I lack faith in the grandeur, the beauty, and the goodness which my own works 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. VI 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 went along, proceeded to the spot. 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. 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 over them. 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. 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 reverently 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 full of 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 deepsighted 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. -Adapted. CLASS ACTIVITIES 1. To test the thoroughness of your reading, see if you can write correct answers to these questions: a. What is the story about? b. What does Hawthorne want you to learn about life? c. What was the prophecy? d. Why did each of the men except Ernest fail? e. What was the fulfilment of the prophecy? 2. For careful reading. Divide the class into groups numbered I to VI. Let each group examine the list of questions given below corresponding to their group number, and to the section of the story similarly numbered. Keep your questions before you, and read your section slowly and thoughtfully. In so doing you will be studying as contrasted with your first silent reading. (Discuss with your teacher the difference between study and reading.) I THE PROPHECY; ERNEST'S CHILDHOOD 1. What was the Great Stone Face? 2. Who was looking upon it? 3. What was the prophecy? 5. What effect did the Great Stone Face have upon the boy? II MR. GATHERGOLD; ERNEST'S BOYHOOD 1. Who was Gathergold? 2. Tell about Gathergold's palace; its outside appearance, its furnishings. 3. How had Ernest himself changed since his childhood? 4. Why did Gathergold fail to fulfil the prophecy? 5. What helped to offset Ernest's disappointment? III BLOOD-AND-THUNDER; ERNEST'S YOUNG MANHOOD 1. What traits of character began to develop in Ernest? 2. Why did the memory of Gathergold fade away? 3. Who was Blood-and-Thunder? 4. How did Hawthorne make fun of the pompous general? 5. In what ways did Blood-and-Thunder fail to resemble the Great Stone Face? IV STONY PHIZ; ERNEST'S MIDDLE AGE 1. Select five characteristics which increasingly developed in Ernest's life? 2. Who was Stony Phiz? Describe him. 3. Tell about the reception he received. 4. What likeness to the Great Stone Face did Ernest first see in Stony Phiz? 5. What was the vital unlikeness between Stony Phiz and the Great Stone Face? V THE POET; ERNEST'S OLD AGE 1. How did Ernest change in appearance? 2. How did he grow in strong traits of character? 3. How did the coming of the poet contrast with the arrival of the other men? 4. What was the poet's opinion of Ernest? 5. Why did the poet fail to fulfil the prophecy? VI THE PROPHECY FULFILLED 1. Describe the scene of the meeting at which Ernest spoke. 3. Did Ernest act as you would expect him to act in response to the applause? ADDITIONAL READINGS. 1. "Getting Ready for an Effective Life," C. W. Eliot, Training for an Effective Life, chap. 4. 2. "How Joyce Kilmer Died," in Literary Digest, September 7, 1918. 3. First Corinthians, chap. XIII. 4. "Life of Clara Barton," in Heroines of Service, 59-95. 5. "Old Pipes and the Dryad," F. R. Stockson, in Children's Literature, 234-245. 6. "For Those Who Fail," J. Miller, ibid., 415. 4. FOR A' THAT AND A' THAT ROBERT BURNS Burns is said to have written this poem in the kitchen of a certain rich man. The latter, who had invited the poet to meet some of his friends, made Burns wait in the kitchen until the guests arrived. Is there, for honest poverty, That hangs his head, and a' that? |