The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1850-01-24

u,
| him, "the Great Stone Face has met its match at
last ~
Now. il must be owned that, at his first glimpse
of the countenance W hich was bowling and smiling
from the barouche, Ernest did fancy that there
was resemblance between it and the old familiar
face upon the mountain side The brow, with its
massive depth and holiness and all the other fea-
lures, indeed, were boldly and strongly hewn, as
if in emulation of q more than heroic, Of Ii
tanic model. But the sublimity and stateliness,
the grand expression of divine sympathy, that
illuminated the mountain visage, and etherealized
its ponderous granite substance into spirit, might
here be sought in vain. Something had been
originally left out, or had departed. And there
fore the maryellously gifted statesman had always
weary gloom in the deep caverns of his eyes,
as of child that has outgrown its playthings, or
man of mighty faculties and little aims, whose
life, with all its high performances was vague
and empty, because no high purpose had endowed
it with reality.
STILL Ernests neghbor was thrusing his elbow
into his side, and pressing him for an answer
Confess Confessl Is not he the very picture
of your Old Man of the MountainP
"Nom said Ernest, bluntly, 81 see little or no
likeness
Then so much the worse for the Great Stone
Facep answered his neighbor; and az in be set
up shout for Old Stony Phiz
But Ernest turned away, melancholy, and al
most respondent; for this was the saddest of his
dissppontments, to behold man who might have
fulfilled the prophecy, and had not willed to do
so. Meantime, the cavacade, the banners, the
music, and the barouches swept past him, with
the vociferous crowd in the rear leaving the dust
to settle down, and the Great Stone Face to be
revealed again, with the grandeur that it had
worn for untold centuries
| n here / an, Erpast ~ tho haniop 1ipe saeu,-
ed to say. 81 have waited longer than thou, and
am not yet weary. Fear not; the man will come"
The years hurried onward, treading in their
haste on one another's heels. And now they be-
gan to bring white hairs, and scatter them over
the head of Ernest they made reverend wrinkles
across his forehead, and burrows in bis bAelS He
was an aged man. But not in vain had he grown
old more than the white hairs on his head were
the sage thoughts in his mind his wrinkles and
burrows were inscriptions that Time had graved,
and in which be had written legends Of wisdom
that had been tested by the tenor of life. And
Ernest had ceased to be obscure. Unsought for,
undesired, had come the fame which so many seek,
and made him known in the great world, beyond
the limits of the valley in which he had dwelt 80
quietly. College professors, and even the active
men of cities, came from far to see and converse
with Ernest for the report had gone abroad that
this simple husbandman bad ideas unlike those of
other men, not gained from books, but Of higher
toDe-a tranquil and familiar majesty, as if he
had been talking with the angels as his daily
friends. Whether it were sage, statesman, or
phanthropist, Ernest received these visiters with
the gentle sincerity that had characterized him
from boyhood, and spoke freely with them of
whatever came uppermost, or lay deepest in his
heart or their owG While they talked together,
his face would kindle, unawares, and shine upon
| them, as with mild evening light. Pensive with
the funess Of such discourse his guests took leave
and went their wsy and. passing up the valley,
paused to look at the Great Stone Face, imagin.
ing that they had seen its likeness in human
countenance, but could not remember where
While Ernest had been growing up and grow
ing old, bountiful Providence had granted 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, pour
! ing out his sweet music amid the hustle 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
ode, which was grand enough to have been utter
cd by its own ma estic lips This man Of genius,
we may say, had come down from heaven with
wonderful endowments If he sang Of a noun
tain, the eyes of all mankind beheld q migthier
grandeur reposing on it's 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 CLEAN forever on its sur
face. IL il were the vast, old sea, even the deep
immensely of its dread bosom seemed to swell the
higher, as if moved by the emotions of the song.
| Thus the world assumed another and better az
pect 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 Gre
=. 4 ii. =.
pref, 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 glorfedi If he beheld
/ them in his mood of poetic faith. He showed the
golden links of the great chain that ntertwined
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 dig
nifty of the natural world existed only in the po-
cts fancy Let such men speak for themselves,
who undoubtedly appear to have been spawned
| forth by Nature with contemptuous bitterness ;
she having plsstered them up out Of her refuse
stuff, after all the swine were made. As respects
all things else, the poets ideal was the truest
truth
The songs Of this poet found their way to Err
nest He read them after his customary toll
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 stsnzas that caused the soul
TO thrill within him. he lifted his eyes to the vast
countenance beaming on him so benignantly
ooh, majestic friend he murmured address,
ing the Great Stone Face, is not this man wor-
thy to resemble thee?p
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 meditaed much upon. his character until he
deemed nothing 30 desirable as to meet this man.
whose untaught wisdom walked hand in hand
with the noble simplicity of his life One sum
mer morning, therefore, he took passage by the
railroad, and, In the decline of the afternoon,
alighted from the cara at no great distance from
Ernest's cottage. The great hotel, which had
formerly been the palace of MIR Gathergold, was
close at hand but the poet, with his carpe-bag on
his arm, inquired at once where Ernest dwelt and
was resolved to be accepted as his guest
| Approaching the door, ne there found the good
old man, holding volume in his hand, which al
ternatey he read, and then, with finger between
the leaves, looked lovingly at the Great Stone
Face.
Good evening" said the poet "Can you give
traveller nights lodging7n
"Willingly,n answered Ernest and then he
added, smiling " methinks never saw the Great
Stone Face look so Hospitality at stranger"
The poet sat down the bench beside him,
and he and Ernest talked together Often had
the poet held intercourse with the wttiest and
the wises, but never before with man like Err
nest, whose thoughts and feelings gushed up with
such natural freedom, and who made great
truths 80 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 an.
La nal Lau H. 10 L..