continually　open；　and　thus　was　sure　to　catch　the　blessing　from　on
  high；　when　it　should　come。　So　now　again；　as　buoyantly　as　ever；　he　went
  forth　to　behold　the　likeness　of　the　Great　Stone　Face。
  The　cavalcade　came　prancing　along　the　road；　with　a　great　clattering
  of　hoofs　and　a　mighty　cloud　of　dust；　which　rose　up　so　dense　and　high
  that　the　visage　of　the　mountain…side　was　completely　hidden　from
  Ernest's　eyes。　All　the　great　men　of　the　neighborhood　were　there　on
  horseback：　militia　officers；　in　uniform；　the　member　of　Congress；　the
  sheriff　of　the　county；　the　editors　of　newspapers；　and　many　a　farmer；
  too；　had　mounted　his　patient　steed；　with　his　Sunday　coat　upon　his
  back。　It　really　was　a　very　brilliant　spectacle；　especially　as　there
  were　numerous　banners　flaunting　over　the　cavalcade；　on　some　of　which
  were　gorgeous　portraits　of　the　illustrious　statesman　and　the　Great
  Stone　Face；　smiling　familiarly　at　one　another；　like　two　brothers。　If
  the　pictures　were　to　be　trusted；　the　mutual　resemblance；　it　must　be
  confessed；　was　marvellous。　We　must　not　forget　to　mention　that　there
  was　a　band　of　music；　which　made　the　echoes　of　the　mountains　ring　and
  reverberate　with　the　loud　triumph　of　its　strains；　so　that　airy　and
  soul…thrilling　melodies　broke　out　among　all　the　heights　and　hollows　as
  if　every　nook　of　his　native　valley　had　found　a　voice　to　welcome　the
  distinguished　guest。　But　the　grandest　effect　was　when　the　far…off
  mountain…precipice　flung　back　the　music；　for　then　the　Great　Stone　Face
  itself　seemed　to　be　swelling　the　triumphant　chorus；　in
  acknowledgment　that；　at　length；　the　man　of　prophecy　was　come。
  All　this　while　the　people　were　throwing　up　their　hats　and　shouting；
  with　enthusiasm　so　contagious　that　the　heart　of　Ernest　kindled　up；　and
  he　likewise　threw　up　his　hat；　and　shouted；　as　loudly　as　the　loudest；
  〃Huzza　for　the　great　man！　Huzza　for　Old　Stony　Phiz！〃　But　as　yet　he　had
  not　seen　him。
  〃Here　he　is；　now！〃　cried　those　who　stood　near　Ernest。　〃There！
  There！　Look　at　Old　Stony　Phiz　and　then　at　the　Old　Man　of　the　Mountain；
  and　see　if　they　are　not　as　like　as　two　twin…brothers！〃
  In　the　midst　of　all　this　gallant　array；　came　an　open　barouche；
  drawn　by　four　white　horses；　and　in　the　barouche；　with　his　massive　head
  uncovered；　sat　the　illustrious　statesman；　Old　Stony　Phiz　himself。
  〃Confess　it；〃　said　one　of　Ernest's　neighbors　to　him；　〃the　Great
  Stone　Face　has　met　its　match　at　last！〃
  Now；　it　must　be　owned　that；　at　his　first　glimpse　of　the　countenance
  which　was　bowing　and　smiling　from　the　barouche；　Ernest　did　fancy
  that　there　was　a　resemblance　between　it　and　the　old　familiar　face　upon
  the　mountain…side。　The　brow；　with　its　massive　depth　and　loftiness；　and
  all　the　other　features；　indeed；　were　boldly　and　strongly　hewn；　as　if
  in　emulation　of　a　more　than　heroic；　of　a　Titanic　model。　But　the
  sublimity　and　stateliness；　the　grand　expression　of　a　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　therefore
  the　marvellously　gifted　statesman　had　always　a　weary　gloom　in　the　deep
  caverns　of　his　eyes；　as　of　a　child　that　has　outgrown　its　playthings；
  or　a　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；　Ernest's　neighbor　was　thrusting　his　elbow　into　his　side；　and
  pressing　him　for　an　answer。
  〃Confess！　confess！　Is　not　he　the　very　picture　of　your　Old　Man　of
  the　Mountain？〃
  〃No！〃　said　Ernest；　bluntly；　〃I　see　little　or　no　likeness。〃
  〃Then　so　much　the　worse　for　the　Great　Stone　Face！〃　answered　his
  neighbor；　and　again　he　set　up　a　shout　for　Old　Stony　Phiz。
  But　Ernest　turned　away。　melancholy；　and　almost　despondent；　for　this
  was　the　saddest　of　his　disappointments；　to　behold　a　man　who　might　have
  fulfilled　the　prophecy；　and　had　not　willed　to　do　so。　Meantime；　the
  cavalcade；　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。
  〃Lo；　here　I　am；　Ernest！〃　the　benign　lips　seemed　to　say。　〃I　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　began　to　bring　white　hairs；　and
  scatter　them　over　the　head　of　Ernest；　they　made　reverend　wrinkles
  across　his　forehead；　and　furrows　in　his　cheeks。　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　furrows　were
  inscriptions　that　Time　had　graved；　and　in　which　he　had　written　legends
  of　wisdom　that　had　been　tested　by　the　tenor　of　a　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　so　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　had　ideas　unlike　those　of　other　men；　not　gained　from
  books；　but　of　a　higher　tone…　a　tranquil　and　familiar　majesty；　as　if　he
  had　been　talking　with　the　angels　as　his　daily　friends。　Whether　it　were
  sage；　statesman；　or　philanthropist；　Ernest　received　these　visitors
  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　own。　While　they　talked　together；　his　face　would
  kindle；　unawares；　and　shine　upon　them；　as　with　a　mild　evening　light。
  Pensive　with　the　fulness　of　such　discourse；　his　guests　took　leave
  and　went　their　way；　and；　passing　up　the　valley；　paused　to　look　at
  the　Great　Stone　Face；　imagining　that　they　had　seen　its　likeness　in　a
  human　countenance；　but　could　not　remember　where。
  While　Ernest　had　been　growing　up　and　growing　old；　a　bountiful
  Providence　had　granted　a　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；　pouring　out　his　sweet　music　amid
  the　bustle　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　an　ode；　which　was
  grand　enough　to　have　been　uttered　by　its　own　majestic　lips。　This　man
  of　genius；　we　may　say；　had　come　down　from　heaven　with　wonderful
  endowments。　If　he　sang　of　a　mountain；　the　eyes　of　all　mankind　beheld　a
  mightier　grandeur　reposing　on　its　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　gleam　forever　on　its
  surface。　If　it　were　the　vast　old　sea；　even　the　deep　immensity　of　its
  dread　bosom　seemed　to　swell　the　higher；　as　if　moved　by　the　emotions　of
  the　song。　Thus　the　world　assumed　another　and　a　better　aspect　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。　Creation
  was　not　finished　till　the　poet　came　to　interpret；　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　glorified　if　he　beheld　them　in　his
  mood　of　poetic　faith。　He　showed　the　golden　links　of　the　great　chain
  that　intertwined　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　dignity　of　the
  natural　world　existed　only　in　the　poet's　fancy。　Let　such　men　speak　for
  themselves；　who　undoubtedly　appear　to　have　been　spawned　forth　by
  Nature　with　a　contemptuous　bitterness；　she　having　plastered　them　up
  out　of　her　refuse　stuff；　after　all　the　swine　were　made。　As　respects
  all　things　else；　the　poet's　ideal　was　the　truest　truth。
  The　songs　of　this　poet　found　their　way　to　Ernest。　He　read　them；
  after　his　customary　toil；　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　stanzas
  that　caused　the　soul　to　thrill　within　him；　he　lifted　his　eyes　to　the
  vast　countenance　beaming　on　him　so　benignantly。
  〃O；　majestic　friend；〃　he　murmured；　addressing　the　Great　Stone　Face；
  〃is　not　this　man　worthy　to　resemble　thee？〃
  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　meditated　much　upon　his　character；　until
  he　deemed　nothin