On the South Dakota memorial his fame now rests and probably will continue to rest until the end of time. He might possibly have felt bitter about that. The sculpture into which he poured his greatest enthusiasm was undoubtedly the Confederate memorial. It had movement instead of stasis. It told a story in a language that no man could fail to understand. The piece of his carving that he himself loved best may have been the seated Lincoln at Newark, New Jersey. None of his other works--nor any sculpture in the world--is as big as the work on Rushmore. But not at this time will any expert in sculpture come to select one of the carvings of Mount Rushmore as Borglum’s masterpiece. That is not to say that the Four Faces are not well done. They are. Lincoln’s has the same pathos that marks Borglum’s head of him in the Capitol at Washington. Jefferson and Washington come to us out of the unphotographed past of more than a century ago as real men. Theodore Roosevelt many of us knew when he was alive, and he is himself. But all four of them are overpowering because of their size. They are the product of an art that few men ever attempted before and none accomplished. It is a striking thing about Borglum that nobody knew very much about him, even his friends. More people know of him now than ever did when he was living, and to most of them he is a man whose sole work was the carving of Mount Rushmore. Few of them know of the tragedy of Stone Mountain. Virtually none has ever heard of his Wars of America Memorial in Newark--forty-two human figures and two horses cast in bronze. Some of his pieces that few people know about--his horses, his figures of Lincoln, whom he devoutly loved, his statue to James McConnell on the University of Virginia campus at Charlottesville, his simple tribute to Edward L. Trudeau--show his genius as a sculptor. His other pursuits are in dozens of record books, already dusty and forgotten.