I
One afternoon when the sun was going down, a mother and her little boy
sat at the door of their cottage, talking about the Great Stone Face.
They had but to lift their eyes, and there it was plainly to be seen,
though miles away, with the sunshine brightening all its features.
And what was the Great Stone Face? The Great Stone Face was a work of
Nature in her mood of majestic playfulness, formed on the perpendicular
side of a mountain by some immense rocks, which had been thrown together
in such a position as, when viewed at a proper distance, precisely to
resemble the features of the human countenance. It seemed as if an
enormous giant, or a [v]Titan, had sculptured his own likeness on the
precipice. There was the broad arch of the forehead, a hundred feet in
height; the nose, with its long bridge; and the vast lips, which, if
they could have spoken, would have rolled their thunder accents from one
end of the valley to the other.
It was a happy lot for children to grow up to manhood or womanhood with
the Great Stone Face before their eyes, for all the features were noble,
and the expression was at once grand and sweet, as if it were the glow
of a vast, warm heart that embraced all mankind in its affections, and
had room for more.
As we began with saying, a mother and her little boy sat at their
cottage door, gazing at the Great Stone Face, and talking about it. The
child's name was Ernest. "Mother," said he, while the Titanic visage
smiled on him, "I wish that it could speak, for it looks so very kindly
that its voice must be pleasant. If I were to see a man with such a
face, I should love him dearly."
"If an old prophecy should come to pass," answered his mother, "we may
see a man, some time or other, with exactly such a face as that."
"What prophecy do you mean, dear mother?" eagerly inquired Ernest. "Pray
tell me all about it!"
So his mother told him a story that her own mother had told to her, when
she herself was younger than little Ernest; a story, not of things that
were past, but of what was yet to come; a story, nevertheless, so very
old that even the Indians, who formerly inhabited this valley, had heard
it from their forefathers, to whom, they believed, it had been murmured
by the mountain streams, and whispered by the wind among the tree tops.
The story said that at some future day a child should be born hereabouts
who was destined to become the greatest and noblest man of his time, and
whose countenance, in manhood, should bear an exact resemblance to the
Great Stone Face.
"O mother, dear mother!" cried Ernest, clapping his hands above his
head, "I do hope that I shall live to see him!" His mother was an
affectionate and thoughtful woman, and felt that it was wisest not to
discourage the hopes of her little boy. She only said to him, "Perhaps
you may," little thinking that the prophecy would one day come true.
And Ernest never forgot the story that his mother told him. It was
always in his mind whenever he looked upon the Great Stone Face. He
spent his childhood in the log cottage where he was born, and was
dutiful to his mother, and helpful to her in many things, assisting her
much with his little hands, and more with his loving heart. In this
manner, from a happy yet thoughtful child, he grew to be a mild, quiet,
modest boy, sun-browned with labor in the fields, but with more
intelligence in his face than is seen in many lads who have been taught
at famous schools. Yet Ernest had had no teacher, save only that the
Great Stone Face became one to him. When the toil of the day was over,
he would gaze at it for hours, until he began to imagine that those vast
features recognized him, and gave him a smile of kindness and
encouragement in response to his own look of [v]veneration. We must not
take upon us to affirm that this was a mistake, although the Face may
have looked no more kindly at Ernest than at all the world besides. For
the secret was that the boy's tender simplicity [v]discerned what other
people could not see; and thus the love, which was meant for all, became
his alone.