Page:History of Hardy, the soldier.pdf/2



ELIGION makes me happy every where,” said the old soldier, Hardy, as he rested his weary limbs on a mossy bankside the road, and stooped down to quench his thirst from a purling stream which flowed at his feet. “Many a time,” added he, talking to himself, “have I drunk from this brook in years which are passed, while I was watching my sheep, or as I came home thirsty from harvest. Sweet is the memory of joys that are fled, especially the recollection of youthful delights after scenes of such toil and distress as I have witnessed. Over burning sands and icy plains, trackless wastes and tempestuous seas have I passed. Many a time have I attacked e daring foe, stormed his fortified entrenchments, braved the cannon's spar, and marched to victory over the dead bodies of my comrades. Often have I been wounded, and yet what a mercy that I am still alive, and that I am permitted once more to approach my native village in health! What shall I render unto the Lord for all his goodness?” Saying this, the veteran warrior, kneelling, poured out his prayer to God, and his tears of gratitude and joy, flowing down the furrows which time had ploughed in his cheeks, were lost in the streams of the bubbling rivulet.

Edward and Amelia, the two beloved children of Mr. Benson, had been sitting and reading in a little bower which they had built, just behind the bank on which the aged soldier was seated. When they first saw him approaching, they laid aside their books, to indulge that inquisitive curiosity which is so natural to the young, by noticing the conduct of this hoary, traveller. After the old soldier had concluded his devotions, leaning on his staff, he arose, and pursued his journey with trembling steps. Edward and his sister, on seeing this, immediately ran down the lawn, and opening the garden-gate, went out into the road and met Hardy, who pulled off his hat and bowed; as the young gentleman and lady approached him.

Edward went up to the old soldiers, while his sister waited a little behind, and looking him in the face, with affectionate sympathy he said, “Poor old man! you seem to be very feeble and aged.” “Few and evil have the days of my pilgrimage been,” replied Hardy; “but I hope at last to end them in the place which gave me birth, for I can now see the little cottage in which I was born, upon the hill yonder,

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