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Updated: May 16, 2025
"Prophet-like that lone one stood, With dauntless words and high, That shook the sere leaves from the wood As if a storm pass'd by." The Last Man. "So perish the old Gods! But out of the sea of time Rises a new land of song, Fairer than the old." The Seaside and the Fireside. Full of evil augury was the morning of this eventful day in Vazon Forest.
The sight of the left eye returned, and Marie awoke cured! The saint of Denver could not, of course, make use of methods adopted by doctors in the hospitals, but he had something much stronger and more effective in his mysterious origin, his prophet-like appearance, and his airs as of one illuminated by the spirit.
"Yet, prophet-like, that lone one stood, With dauntless words and high," and looked as if he deemed the rolling clouds his listeners. Burrell soon gained the sea-shore, though he was still a considerable distance from Gull's Nest Crag.
The soft lamp-light fell on his clean, bald, Michael-Angelo head, across which a few pure hairs glittered. His chin was sunk on his breast, so that his sparse but strong-haired white beard, in which every strand stood distinct, like spun glass lithe and elastic, curved now upwards and inwards, in a curious curve returning upon him. He seemed to be sunk in stern, prophet-like meditation.
His eyes were no longer the eyes of a father irritated by the insubordinate fret of a fledgling son begging permission to test his wings. His bearded face bore the seamed uncertainty of his deeply vexed spirit. Perhaps in that moment there came to him some sense of conversion to the prophet-like assurance of his son.
His knowledge of history amounted to a power of foretelling; and when he perceived the wild work that was doing in France, that great political physician, intelligent of symptoms, distinguished between the access of fever and the force of health; and what other men conceived to be the vigour of her constitution, he knew to be no more than the paroxysm of her madness; and then, prophet-like, he denounced the destinies of France, and in his prophetic fury, admonished nations."
I thought there was something prophet-like in the tones of his voice, as well as in his whole appearance, and there was a noble tranquillity about him that almost awed one, at first, into silence. As the day was cold and wet, he proposed we should sit down together in the only room in the house where there was a fire, and he led the way to what seemed a common sitting or dining room.
If his present prophet-like utterances be true " "Why should you doubt him?" I asked, with some impatience. "Can you believe in NOTHING?" The Prince, still holding my hand, looked at me in a sort of grave perplexity. "I think you have hit it," he observed quietly. "I doubt everything except the fact of my own existence, and there are times when I am not even sure of that.
There is a man in our own days whose words are not framed to tickle delicate ears; who, to my thinking, comes before the great ones of society much as the son of Imlah came before the throned kings of Judah and Israel; and who speaks truth as deep, with a power as prophet-like and as vital a mien as dauntless and as daring. Is the satirist of "Vanity Fair" admired in high places?
First the voice of the pure passion of manhood, which is naked and unashamed; a voice terrible in its sincerity, absolute in its abandonment to truth, prophet-like in its carelessness of personal consequences, its carelessness of all except the deliverance of a message and yet withal a courtly voice, and, if it please, ironical.
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