Again，andstillmoreearnestlythanbefore，Ernestexaminedthe
　　poet’sfeatures；thenturnedtowardstheGreatStoneFace；then
　　back，withanuncertainaspect，tohisguest。Buthiscountenance
　　fell；heshookhishead，andsighed。
　　“Whereforeareyousad？”inquiredthepoet。
　　“Because，repliedErnest，“allthroughlifeIhaveawaitedthe
　　fulfilmentofaprophecy；and，whenIreadthesepoems，Ihopedthat
　　itmightbefulfilledinyou。”
　　“Youhoped。”answeredthepoet，faintlysmiling，“tofindinmethe
　　likenessoftheGreatStoneFace。Andyouaredisappointed，as
　　formerlywithMr。Gathergold，andOldBlood-and-Thunder，andOldStony
　　Phiz。Yes，Ernest，itismydoom。Youmustaddmynametothe
　　illustriousthree，andrecordanotherfailureofyourhopes。For-in
　　shameandsadnessdoIspeakit，Ernest-Iamnotworthytobe
　　typifiedbyyonderbenignandmajesticimage。”
　　“Andwhy？”askedErnest。Hepointedtothevolume-“Arenotthose
　　thoughtsdivine？”
　　“TheyhaveastrainoftheDivinity。”repliedthepoet。“Youcan
　　hearinthemthefar-offechoofaheavenlysong。Butmylife，dear
　　Ernest，hasnotcorrespondedwithmythought。Ihavehadgranddreams，
　　buttheyhavebeenonlydreams，becauseIhavelived-andthat，too，
　　byownchoice-amongpoorandmeanrealities。Sometimeseven-shall
　　Idaretosayit？-Ilackfaithinthegrandeur，thebeauty，andthe
　　goodness，whichmyownworksaresaidtohavemademoreevidentin
　　natureandinhumanlife。Why，then，pureseekerofthegoodandtrue，
　　shouldstthouhopetofindme，inyonderimageofthedivine！”
　　Thepoetspokesadly，andhiseyesweredimwithtears。So，
　　likewise，werethoseofErnest。
　　Atthehourofsunset，ashadlongbeenhisfrequentcustom，Ernest
　　wastodiscoursetoanassemblageoftheneighboringinhabitants，in
　　theopenair。Heandthepoet，arminarm，stilltalkingtogetheras
　　theywentalong，proceededtothespot。Itwasasmallnookamong
　　thehills，withagrayprecipicebehind，thesternfrontofwhich
　　wasrelievedbythepleasantfoliageofmanycreepingplants，that
　　madeatapestryforthenakedrock，byhangingtheirfestoonsfromall
　　itsruggedangles。Atasmallelevationabovetheground，setina
　　richframe-workofverdure，thereappearedaniche，spaciousenoughto
　　admitahumanfigure，withfreedomforsuchgesturesas
　　spontaneouslyaccompanyearnestthoughtandgenuineemotion。Intothis
　　naturalpulpitErnestascended，andthrewalookoffamiliar
　　kindnessarounduponhisaudience。Theystood，orsat，orreclined
　　uponthegrass，asseemedgoodtoeach，withthedepartingsunshine
　　fallingobliquelyoverthem，andminglingitssubduedcheerfulness
　　withthesolemnityofagroveofancienttrees，beneathandamidthe
　　boughsofwhichthegoldenrayswereconstrainedtopass。Inanother
　　directionwasseentheGreatStoneFace，withthesamecheer，combined
　　withthesamesolemnity，initsbenignantaspect。
　　Ernestbegantospeak，givingtothepeopleofwhatwasinhis
　　heartandmind。Hiswordshadpower，becausetheyaccordedwithhis
　　thoughts；andhisthoughtshadrealityanddepth，becausethey
　　harmonizedwiththelifewhichhehadalwayslived。Itwasnotmere
　　breaththatthispreacheruttered；theywerethewordsoflife，
　　becausealifeofgooddeedsandholylovewasmeltedintothem。
　　Pearls，pureandrich，hadbeendissolvedintothisprecious
　　draught。Thepoet，ashelistened，feltthatthebeingandcharacter
　　ofErnestwereanoblerstrainofpoetrythanhehadeverwritten。His
　　eyesglisteningwithtears，hegazedreverentiallyatthevenerable
　　man，andsaidwithinhimselfthatneverwasthereanaspectso
　　worthyofaprophetandasageasthatmild，sweet，thoughtful
　　countenance，withthegloryofwhitehairdiffusedaboutit。Ata
　　distance，butdistinctlytobeseen，highupinthegoldenlightof
　　thesettingsun，appearedtheGreatStoneFace，withhoarymists
　　aroundit，likethewhitehairsaroundthebrowofErnest。Itslookof
　　grandbeneficenceseemedtoembracetheworld。
　　Atthatmoment，insympathywithathoughtwhichhewasaboutto
　　utter，thefaceofErnestassumedagrandeurofexpression，so
　　imbuedwithbenevolence，thatthepoet，byanirresistibleimpulse，
　　threwhisarmsaloft，andshouted，“Behold！Behold！Ernestis
　　himselfthelikenessoftheGreatStoneFace！”
　　Thenallthepeoplelooked，andsawthatwhatthedeep-sightedpoet
　　saidwastrue。Theprophecywasfulfilled。ButErnest，havingfinished
　　whathehadtosay，tookthepoet’sarm，andwalkedslowlyhomeward，
　　stillhopingthatsomewiserandbettermanthanhimselfwouldby
　　andbyappear，bearingaresemblancetotheGREATSTONEFACE。
　　byNathanielHawthorne
　　INTHOSESTRANGEOLDTIMES，whenfantasticdreamsandmadmen’s
　　reverieswererealizedamongtheactualcircumstancesoflife，two
　　personsmettogetheratanappointedhourandplace。Onewasalady，
　　gracefulinformandfairoffeature，thoughpaleandtroubled，and
　　smittenwithanuntimelyblightinwhatshouldhavebeenthefullest
　　bloomofheryears；theotherwasanancientandmeanly-dressedwoman，
　　ofill-favoredaspect，andsowithered，shrunken，anddecrepit，that
　　eventhespacesinceshebegantodecaymusthaveexceededthe
　　ordinarytermofhumanexistence。Inthespotwherethey
　　encountered，nomortalcouldobservethem。Threelittlehillsstood
　　neareachother，anddowninthemidstofthemsunkahollowbasin，
　　almostmathematicallycircular，twoorthreehundredfeetin
　　breadth，andofsuchdepththatastatelycedarmightbutjustbe
　　visibleabovethesides。Dwarfpineswerenumerousuponthehills，and
　　partlyfringedtheoutervergeoftheintermediatehollow，within
　　whichtherewasnothingbutthebrowngrassofOctober，andhereand
　　thereatreetrunkthathadfallenlongago，andlaymoulderingwith
　　nogreensuccessorfromitsroots。Oneofthesemassesofdecaying
　　wood，formerlyamajesticoak，restedclosebesideapoolofgreenand
　　sluggishwateratthebottomofthebasin。Suchscenesasthisso
　　graytraditiontellswereoncetheresortofthePowerofEviland
　　hisplightedsubjects；andhere，atmidnightoronthedimvergeof
　　evening，theyweresaidtostandroundthemantlingpool，disturbing
　　itsputridwatersintheperformanceofanimpiousbaptismalrite。The
　　chillbeautyofanautumnalsunsetwasnowgildingthethree
　　hill-tops，whenceapalertintstoledowntheirsidesintothehollow。
　　“Hereisourpleasantmeetingcometopass。”saidtheagedcrone，
　　“accordingasthouhastdesired。Sayquicklywhatthouwouldsthaveof
　　me，forthereisbutashorthourthatwemaytarryhere。”
　　Astheoldwitheredwomanspoke，asmileglimmeredonher
　　countenance，likelamplightonthewallofasepulchre。Thelady
　　trembled，andcasthereyesupwardtothevergeofthebasin，asif
　　meditatingtoreturnwithherpurposeunaccomplished。Butitwasnot
　　soordained。
　　“Iamastrangerinthisland，asyouknow。”saidsheatlength。
　　“WhenceIcomeitmattersnot；butIhaveleftthosebehindmewith
　　whommyfatewasintimatelybound，andfromwhomIamcutoffforever。
　　ThereisaweightinmybosomthatIcannotawaywith，andIhavecome
　　hithertoinquireoftheirwelfare。”
　　“Andwhoistherebythisgreenpoolthatcanbringtheenews
　　fromtheendsoftheearth？”criedtheoldwoman，peeringintothe
　　lady’sface。“Notfrommylipsmaystthouhearthesetidings；yet，
　　bethoubold，andthedaylightshallnotpassawayfromyonder
　　hill-topbeforethywishbegranted。”
　　“IwilldoyourbiddingthoughIdie。”repliedthelady
　　desperately。
　　Theoldwomanseatedherselfonthetrunkofthefallentree，threw
　　asidethehoodthatshroudedhergraylocks，andbeckonedher
　　companiontodrawnear。
　　“Kneeldown。”shesaid，andlayyourforeheadonmyknees。”
　　Shehesitatedamoment，buttheanxietythathadlongbeenkindling
　　burnedfiercelyupwithinher。Asshekneltdown，theborderofher
　　garmentwasdippedintothepool；shelaidherforeheadontheold
　　woman’sknees，andthelatterdrewacloakaboutthelady’sface，so
　　thatshewasindarkness。Thensheheardthemutteredwordsofprayer，
　　inthemidstofwhichshestarted，andwouldhavearisen。
　　“Letmeflee-letmefleeandhidemyself，thattheymaynotlook
　　uponme！”shecried。But，withreturningrecollection，shehushed
　　herself，andwasstillasdeath。
　　Foritseemedasifothervoices-familiarininfancy，and
　　unforgottenthroughmanywanderings，andinallthevicissitudesof
　　herheartandfortune-wereminglingwiththeaccentsoftheprayer。
　　Atfirstthewordswerefaintandindistinct，notrenderedsoby
　　distance，butratherresemblingthedimpagesofabookwhichwe
　　strivetoreadbyanimperfectandgraduallybrighteninglight。In
　　suchamanner，astheprayerproceeded，didthosevoicesstrengthen
　　upontheear；tillatlengththepetitionended，andthe
　　conversationofanagedman，andofawomanbrokenanddecayedlike
　　himself，becamedistinctlyaudibletotheladyassheknelt。Butthose
　　strangersappearednottostandinthehollowdepthbetweenthe
　　threehills。Theirvoiceswereencompassedandreechoedbythewalls
　　ofachamber，thewindowsofwhichwererattlinginthebreeze；the
　　regularvibrationofaclock，thecracklingofafire，andthe
　　tinklingoftheembersastheyfellamongtheashes，renderedthe
　　scenealmostasvividasifpaintedtotheeye。Byamelancholyhearth
　　satthesetwooldpeople，themancalmlydespondent，thewoman
　　querulousandtearfullandtheirwordswereallofsorrow。They
　　spokeofadaughter，awanderertheyknewnotwhere，bearing
　　dishonoralongwithher，andleavingshameandafflictiontobring
　　theirgrayheadstothegrave。Theyalludedalsotootherandmore
　　recentwo，butinthemidstoftheirtalktheirvoicesseemedto
　　meltintothesoundofthewindsweepingmournfullyamongtheautumn
　　leaves；andwhentheladyliftedhereyes，therewasshekneelingin
　　thehollowbetweenthreehills。
　　“Awearyandlonesometimeyonderoldcouplehaveofit。”remarked
　　theoldwoman，smilinginthelady’sface。
　　“Anddidyoualsohearthem？”exclaimedshe，asenseofintolerable
　　humiliationtriumphingoverheragonyandfear。
　　“Yea；andwehaveyetmoretohear。”repliedtheoldwoman。
　　“Wherefore，coverthyfacequickly。”
　　Againthewitheredhagpouredforththemonotonouswordsofa
　　prayerthatwasnotmeanttobeacceptableinheaven；andsoon，inthe
　　pausesofherbreath，strangemurmuringsbegantothicken，gradually
　　increasingsoastodrownandoverpowerthecharmbywhichthey
　　grew。Shriekspiercedthroughtheobscurityofsound，andwere
　　succeededbythesingingofsweetfemalevoices，which，intheirturn，
　　gavewaytoawildroaroflaughter，brokensuddenlybygroanings
　　andsobs，formingaltogetheraghastlyconfusionofterrorand
　　mourningandmirth。Chainswererattling，fierceandsternvoices
　　utteredthreats，andthescourgeresoundedattheircommand。Allthese
　　noisesdeepenedandbecamesubstantialtothelistener’sear，tillshe
　　coulddistinguisheverysoftanddreamyaccentofthelovesongs
　　thatdiedcauselesslyintofuneralhymns。Sheshudderedatthe
　　unprovokedwrathwhichblazeduplikethespontaneouskindlingof
　　flame，andshegrewfaintatthefearfulmerrimentragingmiserably
　　aroundher。Inthemidstofthiswildscene，whereunboundpassions
　　jostledeachotherinadrunkencareer，therewasonesolemnvoice
　　ofaman，andamanlyandmelodiousvoiceitmightoncehavebeen。
　　Hewenttoandfrocontinually，andhisfeetsoundeduponthefloor。
　　Ineachmemberofthatfrenziedcompany，whoseownburningthoughts
　　hadbecometheirexclusiveworld，hesoughtanauditorforthestory
　　ofhisindividualwrong，andinterpretedtheirlaughterandtearsas
　　hisrewardofscornorpity。Hespokeofwoman’sperfidy，ofawife
　　whohadbrokenherholiestvows，ofahomeandheartmadedesolate。
　　Evenashewenton，theshout，thelaugh，theshriek，thesob，roseup
　　inunison，tilltheychangedintothehollow，fitful，andunevensound
　　ofthewind，asitfoughtamongthepine-treesonthosethreelonely
　　hills。Theladylookedup，andtherewasthewitheredwomansmilingin
　　herface。