Daily evening star. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1852-1854, 1854-06-17
DAILY EVENING STAR.
MY MOTHERS HAIR Is GRAY.

MY MOTHERS HAIR Is GRAY.
.sOne Iamp-uhy mothers lovc--amid the stars
Shall lit lis pure flame chancsiess, aud before
he throne OF God burn through eternity
HOly-as ii was lii and lent thre here"
pardon me, Miss Edwards, cannot
agree with you. To me gray hair is beau
tiiul. My mothers hair is gray "
A deep silence followed these words
The low, earnest, reverential tone 10
which they were spoken had impressed
the gayest of that gay young group.
The speaker had numbered more than
forty years. He was above the medium
height, his frame indicating vigor and
manly strength, rather than grace OF
beauty. The face, though far from hand
some, at once inspired both confidence
and respect. Its ordinary expression
was grave, smiles rarely visited it, but
when they came the effect was like a
bright beam of sunshine on a shady
place. Around the broad, high brow
clustered graceful curls of dark brown
kalr. The contour of the head was sim
gulariy beautiful and more than redeem
ed the plainness of the face. He was q
man of great moral and mental power, to
whom his acqualntances looked up with
admiration that was little short Of rever-
ence. By the magic Of his eloquence he
could sway a listening multitude as the
leaf burned branches Of the forest trees
are swaycd by the winds Of heaven. He
had an envidble reputation as man @,
learning, and he was one Of the blessed
few
-"Who gain the book to kno,g,
Nor buy the knowledge with the heart"
His influence was felt in the political
world. Offices of honor and emoiument
were pressed upon him, and he had but
to listen to the prompting of ambition to
scale the dizziest heights of public favor.
lie was the poor man IS friend. The widow
and the orphan never claimed sympathy
in vain. Kind words cost the giver no
thing, and kinder deeds, which are the
true measures Of benevolcnce,
''Tc!l from him noiseless as the snow,"
and made glad the hearts of the needy.
lie knew the t'names of Husband and
Of Father The brightest ornaments of
the modest cottage, where he had set up
his household gods, where his beautiful
sweet-voiced wife, and group of fair
haired children, who clustered like olive
plants around his table. His absence
from home was like the withdrawal oG
light from the loving household of which
he was head; his presence, when he re-
turaed, seemed to them,
ito brighten light,
And give back sunshine with an added glow.'
He was Christian-not by profession
but in deed and truth. His religion was
not dead letter; a matter of mere for
NAL belief, and mere formal practice, but
Of living active principle which regulated
all his actions. lie did not wear it like
a Sunday coat, to be laid upon the shelf
at the going down of the sun, but he
wore it through the week, in the hurry
of business, and in the pursuit of plea
sure, in the house and by the way.
That which more perhaps than any.
thing else gave grace and beauty to his
character, was the love he bore his
mother, the watchful care with which he
smoothed the path of her declining years,
his UNIV carried devotion to her comfort,
and the reverence with which he always
spoke Of her.
ITO me gray hair is beautiful. My
mothers hair is gray" lie could re-
member when that same gray hair was
dark and glossy as ravens plume
when the calm brow it shaded was free
from wrinkles-when the now coIorlesS
cheek was flushed with the rosy tint Of
health and happiness. He remembered
how carefully she guarded his helpless
infancy, cneerfully bearing prlvatlon,
weariness, and suffering for his sake
the gentle force with which she restrained
him during the seasons of headstrong im-
petuous youth-the proud affection with
which she marked the noble develop
ment of his manhood-and the deep,
strong, deathless love with which, all hls
life long, she had covered him as with a
garment. And to him now, in the pride
and vigor of his manhood, even her gray
hairs were beautiful. Not hers alone
but every head which age had silvered
over was reverenced and respected for
aer sake.
In this busy, bustling age of the world
when the accumulation of wealth and
passion for public honors engross so
large share of men S time and thoughts,
reverence for the old Is in danger of be-
ing accounted az old-fashioned duty. to
be laid aside with hoops and furbelows,
powdered wigs, and silver knee buckles.
The command" Honor thy father and
thy mother" which, to many minds,
savors too strongly of things beyond the
flood to claim present obedience, is as
binding now as at the day God uttered
it on Sinai. Even in the absence of a
direct command, every high and noble
sentiment in mans nature prompts him
to yield to his mother the homage of love,
if not as deep and tender. at least as pure
and changeless as her own.
"To me gray hair is beautiful. My
mothers hair is gray" The words were
few and simple enough, but they reveal
ed much. | thought how it would have
quickened the mothers languid pulses,
and how the weary heart, now almost
home, would have leared with joy, had
they fallen on her ears. Involuntarily,