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conquerors. See, it was on that side the army of the enemy advanced. Thousands of lances glitter'd at a distance, with more than two hundred horsemen, cover'd with sumptuous armour. The plumes that shaded their helmets nodded as they march’d, and the earth resounded with their horses' hoofs. Our little troop was already broke. We were but three or four hundred men. The cries of the defeat were re-echo'd from every side, and the smoke of NEFELS, in flames, fill’d the valley, and spread with horror along the mountains. However, at the bottom of the hill where we now are, our chief had placed himself. He was there, where those two pines shoot up from the edge of that pointed rock. I think I see him now, surrounded by a small number of warriors, firm, immoveable, and calling round him the dispersed troops. I hear the rustling of the standard that he way'd in the air; it was like the sound of the wind that precedes an hurricane. From every side they ran towards him. Dost thou see those foods rush down from the mountains ? Stones, rocks, and trees o'erthrown, in vain oppose their course; they o'erleap, or bear down all before them, and meet together at the bottom, in that pool. So we ran to the cry of our general, cutting our way through the enemy. Rank'd around the hero, we made a vow, and God was our witness, to conquer or to die. The enemy advancing in order of battle, pour'd down impetuously upon us; we attacked them in our turn. Eleven times we return’d to the charge, but, always forced to retire to

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the shelter of these hills, we there closed our ranks,
and became unshaken as the rock by which we
were protected. At last, enforced by thirty swiss
warriors, we fell suddenly on the enemy, like the
fall of a mountain, or as some mighty rock descends,
rolls through the forest, and, with a horrid crush,
lays waste the trees that interrupt its course. On
every side, the enemy, both horse and foot, con-
founded in a most dreadful tumult, overthrew each
other to escape our rage. Grown furious by the
combat, we trod under foot the dead and dying, to
extend vengeance and death still further. I was in
the middle of the battle. A horseman of the enemy,
in his flight, rode over me, and crush'd my leg.
The soldier who fought nearest me, seeing my con-
dition, took me on his shoulders, and ran with me
out of the field of battle. A holy father was pro-
strate on a rock not far distant, and imploring
HEAVEN to aid us !—Take care, good father, of
this warrior, my deliverer cried; he has fought like
a son of LIBERTY! he said, and flew back to the
combat. The victory was ours--my son, it was
our's! But many of us were left extended on the
heaps of the enemy. Thus the weary mower re-
poses on the sheaves himself has made.
carefully attended; I was cured—but never cou'd
find out the man to whom I owe my life. I have
sought him in vain. I have made vows and pil-
grimages, that some saint of PARADISE, or some
angel, wou'd reveal him to me. But, alas ! all my
efforts have been fruitless. I shall never, in this

I was

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life, shew him my gratitude. The young shepherd, having heard the old warrior with tears in his eyes, , said—No, father : in this life you can never shew him your gratitude. The old man, surpris'd, cry'd,

Heavens! What dost thou say? Dost thou then know, my son, who my deliverer was?

YOUNG SHEPHERD. I am much deceived if it was not my father. Often he has told me the story of that battle, and often I have heard him say-I wonder if the man I carried from the field of battle be still alive?

OLD MAN. O GOD! O angels of heaven! Was that generous man thy father? YOUNG SHEPHERD.

He had a scar herepointing to his left cheek—he had been wounded with a lance ; perhaps it was before he carried

you from the field. OLD MAN.

His cheek was covered with blood when he bore me off. O my child ! My son ! YOUNG SHEPHERD.

He died two years ago, and as he was poor, I am forced, for subsistence, to keep these goats. The old man embraced him, and said—Heaven be prais'd! I can recompence thee for his generosity. Come ! my son--come with me, and let some other keep thy goats.

They descended the hill together, and walk'd toward the old man's dwelling. He was rich in land and flocks, and a lovely daughter was his only heir. My child, he said to her, he that sav'd my life was the father of this young shepherd. If thou can’st love him, I shall be happy to see you united - The

young man was of an amiable person ; health and pleasure shone in his countenance ; locks of yellow gold shaded his forehead, and the sparkling fire of his eyes was soften'd by a sweet modesty. The young maiden, with an ingenuous reserve, ask'd three days to resolve ; but the third appear'd to her a very long one.

She
gave

her hand to the young shepherd; and the old man, with tears of joy, said to them—My blessing rest upon you, my children! This day has made me the most happy of mortals.

LETTER

FROM

MONS. GESSNER TO MONS. FUSLIN,

AUTHOR OF

THE HISTORY OF THE SWISS PAINTERS,

ON

LANDSCAPE PAINTING.

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