Olive Leaves; Or, Sketches of Character

by L. H. Sigourney

Edward had completed his collegiate course, and was studying at a distant seminary, to prepare himself for the ministry. He had sustained a high character as a scholar, and had early chosen his place among the followers of the Redeemer. As often as was in his power, he visited his beloved parent, during her long sickness, and his letters full of fond regard, and pious confidence, continually cheered her.

Frank resided at home. He had chosen to pursue the business of agriculture, and superintended their small family estate. He had an affectionate heart, and his attentions to his declining mother, were unceasing. In her last moments he stood by her side. His spirit was deeply smitten, as he supported his weeping sister, at the bed of the dying. Pain had departed, and the meek Christian patiently awaited the coming of her Lord. She had given much council to her children, and sent tender messages to the absent one. She seemed to have done speaking. But while they were uncertain whether she yet breathed, she raised her eyes once more to her first-born, and said faintly, "My son, follow peace with all men."

These were her last words. They listened attentively, but her voice was heard no more.

Edward Ludlow was summoned to the funeral of his beloved mother. After she was committed to the dust, he remained a few days to mingle his sympathies with his brother and sister. He knew how to comfort them, out of the Scriptures, for therein was his hope, in all time of his tribulation.

Frank listened to all his admonitions, with a serious countenance, and a sorrowful heart. He loved his brother with great ardour, and to the mother for whom they mourned, he had always been dutiful. Yet she had felt painfully anxious for him to the last, because he had not made choice of religion for his guide, and secretly coveted the glory of the warrior.

After he became the head of the household, he continued to take the kindest care of his sister, who prudently managed all his affairs, until his marriage. The companion whom he chose was a most amiable young woman, whose society and friendship greatly cheered the heart of Eliza. There seemed to be not a shadow over the happiness of that small and loving family.

But in little more than a year after Frank's marriage, the second war between this country and Great Britain commenced. Eliza trembled as she saw him possessing himself of all its details, and neglecting his business to gather and relate every rumour of war. Still she relied on his affection for his wife, to retain him at home. She could not understand the depth and force of the passion that prompted him to be a soldier.

At length he rashly enlisted. It was a sad night for that affectionate family, when he informed them that he must leave them and join the army. His young wife felt it the more deeply, because she had but recently buried a new-born babe. He comforted her as well as he could. He assured her that his regiment would not probably be stationed at any great distance, that he would come home as often as possible, and that she should constantly receive letters from him. He told her that she could not imagine how restless and miserable he had been in his mind, ever since war was declared. He could not bear to have his country insulted, and take no part in her defence. Now, he said, he should again feel a quiet conscience, because he had done his duty, that the war would undoubtedly soon be terminated, and then he should return home, and they would all be happy together. He hinted at the promotion which courage might win, but such ambition had no part in his wife's gentler nature. He begged her not to distress him by her lamentations, but to let him go away with a strong heart, like a hero.

When his wife and sister found that there was no alternative, they endeavoured to comply with his request, and to part with him as calmly as possible. So Frank Ludlow went to be a soldier. He was twenty-five years old, a tall, handsome, and healthful young man. At the regimental trainings in his native town, he had often been told how well he looked in a military dress. This had flattered his vanity. He loved martial music, and thought he should never be tired of serving his country.

But a life in camps has many evils, of which those who dwell at home are entirely ignorant. Frank Ludlow scorned to complain of hardships, and bore fatigue and privation, as well as the best. He was undoubtedly a brave man, and never seemed in higher spirits, than when preparing for battle.