The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1881-09-08
The Great Stone Face.

Blk miles of continual ascent have
brovght us to profile lake, writes Samuel
Adams Drake. Although n pretty
enough piece of water, it is not for itself
this lake is resortcd to by the thousands.
or for the trout which you take from the
| reflection of birds on its Furnished sur
face, but for the mountain rising high
| above it, whose wooded slopes it so fniti-
fully mirrors. Now lift the eyes to the
bare summit. 1t is difficult to believe
tho evidence OF the senses. Upon the
high cliffs of this mountain is the remark
able and celebrated natural rock-sculr-
turc Of human head, which, from
height Of 1900 feet above the lake, has
for uncounted ages looked with the Same
stare down tho pass upon the windings
OF the river through its incompatible
valley. The profile itself measures about
forty feet from the tip of the chin to the
iiatted crown, which imparts to it such
peculiarly antique appearance. 1t is
perfect except that the forehead is con-
cealcd by something like the visor of u
helmet. And all this Illusion is lro-
duced by several projecting crngs. 1t
might be said to have been begottcn by
a thunder bolt.
Taking n seat with n rustic urlor on
the high shore OF tho lake, one is at lib
erty to pursue at leisure what, L dare
say. is the most extraordinary sight of n
| lifetime. A slight change of position
varies more or less the character of the
expression, which is, after all, the mark
cd popularity Of this monstrous altorc-
licvo: for, let the spectator turn his gaze
vacantly upon tho more familiar objects
at hand, rs he inevitably will, to assure
himself that he is not the victim of some
strange hallucination, fascination born
| neither of admiration nor n horror, but
strongly partaiing Of both emotions,
draws him irrcsistibly back to the Dan
tesquo head struck like felons on the
highest battlcments of tho pass. The
| more you may have seen. the moro your
feelings are disciplined, the greater the
confusion Of ideas. The moment is como to
acknowledge yourself vanquishcd. This
IS not merely face, it is portrait.
That IS not the work Of some chiscl, but
cast from living head. You feel and
will always maintain that those features
have had living and breathing coun.
terpart. Nothing more, nothing less.
But where and what was the original
prototype? Not man; since ages before
he was created the chiscl of the Almighty
wrought this sculpture upon the rock
above us. No, not man; tho face is too
majestic, too nobly grand, for anything
of mortal mold. One of tho antique gods
may, perhaps, have set for this archie
typo Of tho coming man. And yet not
man, we think, for tho head will surely
hold the same strange converse with fu-
turity when man shall have vanished
from the face of the earth. Had Byron
visited this place of awe md mystcry,
his "Manfrcd," tho sccno of which is
| laid among the mountains of the Bcrncse
| Alps, would doubtless havo had Il deeper
perhaps n more sinister, impulse, but
evon among those eternal realms of ice
tho poet nevcr behcld IN object that
could so arouse tho gloomy exaltatiof9
he has breathod in that tragedy.
This gigantic silhouette, which hhs
been christoncd The Old Man of the
Mountain: is unquestionably the great
est curiosity OF this or any other noun
tain region. But it is not merely curl
! Gus; nor is it moro marvellous for the
| wonderful accuracy Of outline than for
| the almost superhuman expression of
frozen terror it ctcrnally fixes on tho
vague and shadowy distancc-a far-away
look, MI intense and spccchlcss amaze
mont, such rs sometimes settles upon
tho face of the dying, untranslatnbe
into words, but seeming to declare tho
presence of some unuttcrablc vision too
bright and dazzling for mortal eyes to
behold. The face puts the whole world
| behind it.