While his friends were doing their best to make him president,Old Stony Phiz, as he was called, set out on a visit to the valleywhere he was born. Of course, he had no other object than to shakehands with his fellow-citizens, and neither thought nor cared aboutany effect which his progress through the country might have uponthe election. Magnificent preparations were made to receive theillustrious statesman; a cavalcade of horsemen set forth to meet himat the boundary line of the state, and all the people left theirbusiness and gathered along the wayside to see him pass. Among thesewas Ernest. Though more than once disappointed, as we have seen, hehad such a hopeful and confiding nature, that he was always ready tobelieve in whatever seemed beautiful and good. He kept his heartcontinually open, and thus was sure to catch the blessing from onhigh, when it should come. So now again, as buoyantly as ever, he wentforth to behold the likeness of the Great Stone Face.
The cavalcade came prancing along the road, with a great clatteringof hoofs and a mighty cloud of dust, which rose up so dense and highthat the visage of the mountain-side was completely hidden fromErnest's eyes. All the great men of the neighborhood were there onhorseback: militia officers, in uniform; the member of Congress; thesheriff of the county; the editors of newspapers; and many a farmer,too, had mounted his patient steed, with his Sunday coat upon hisback. It really was a very brilliant spectacle, especially as therewere numerous banners flaunting over the cavalcade, on some of whichwere gorgeous portraits of the illustrious statesman and the GreatStone Face, smiling familiarly at one another, like two brothers. Ifthe pictures were to be trusted, the mutual resemblance, it must beconfessed, was marvellous. We must not forget to mention that therewas a band of music, which made the echoes of the mountains ring andreverberate with the loud triumph of its strains; so that airy andsoul-thrilling melodies broke out among all the heights and hollows asif every nook of his native valley had found a voice to welcome thedistinguished guest. But the grandest effect was when the far-offmountain-precipice flung back the music; for then the Great Stone Faceitself seemed to be swelling the triumphant chorus, inacknowledgment 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, andhe 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 hadnot 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 headuncovered, sat the illustrious statesman, Old Stony Phiz himself.
"Confess it," said one of Ernest's neighbors to him, "the GreatStone Face has met its match at last!"Now, it must be owned that, at his first glimpse of the countenancewhich was bowing and smiling from the barouche, Ernest did fancythat there was a resemblance between it and the old familiar face uponthe mountain-side. The brow, with its massive depth and loftiness, andall the other features, indeed, were boldly and strongly hewn, as ifin emulation of a more than heroic, of a Titanic model. But thesublimity and stateliness, the grand expression of a divinesympathy, that illuminated the mountain-visage, and etherealized itsponderous granite substance into spirit, might here be sought in vain.
Something had been originally left out, or had departed. And thereforethe marvellously gifted statesman had always a weary gloom in the deepcaverns 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 itshigh performances, was vague and empty, because no high purpose hadendowed it with reality.
Still, Ernest's neighbor was thrusting his elbow into his side, andpressing him for an answer.
"Confess! confess! Is not he the very picture of your Old Man ofthe Mountain?""No!" said Ernest, bluntly, "I see little or no likeness.""Then so much the worse for the Great Stone Face!" answered hisneighbor; and again he set up a shout for Old Stony Phiz.
But Ernest turned away. melancholy, and almost despondent; for thiswas the saddest of his disappointments, to behold a man who might havefulfilled the prophecy, and had not willed to do so. Meantime, thecavalcade, the banners, the music, and the barouches, swept pasthim, with the vociferous crowd in the rear, leaving the dust to settledown, and the Great Stone Face to be revealed again, with the grandeurthat it had worn for untold centuries.
"Lo, here I am, Ernest!" the benign lips seemed to say. "I havewaited longer than thou, and am not yet weary. Fear not; the manwill come."The years hurried onward, treading in their haste on oneanother's heels. And now they began to bring white hairs, andscatter them over the head of Ernest; they made reverend wrinklesacross his forehead, and furrows in his cheeks. He was an aged man.
