ernal work,
and its abominable author, terrified the company, and the undertaking was
at an end.
I would compare the effect of this last production to that of the Letter
on French Music, had not that letter, while it brought upon me hatred,
and exposed me to danger, acquired me respect and esteem. But after the
appearance of the last work, it was a matter of astonishment at Geneva
and Versailles that such a monster as the author of it should be suffered
to exist. The little council, excited by Resident de France, and
directed by the attorney-general, made a declaration against my work,
by which, in the most severe terms, it was declared to be unworthy of
being burned by the hands of the hangman, adding, with an address which
bordered upon the burlesque, there was no possibility of speaking of or
answering it without dishonor. I would here transcribe the curious.
piece of composition, but unfortunately I have it not by me. I ardently
wish some of my readers, animated by the zeal of truth and equity, would
read over the Letters from the Mountain: they will, I dare hope, feel the
stoical moderation which reigns throughout the whole, after all the cruel
outrages with which the author was loaded. But unable to answer the
abuse, because no part of it could be called by that name nor to the
reasons because these were unanswerable, my enemies pretended to appear
too much enraged to reply: and it is true, if they took the invincible
arguments it contains, for abuse, they must have felt themselves roughly
treated.
The remonstrating party, far from complaining of the odious declaration,
acted according to the spirit of it, and instead of making a trophy of
the Letters from the Mountain, which they veiled to make them serve as a
shield, were pusillanimous enough not to do justice or honor to that
work, written to defend them, and at their own solicitation. They did
not either quote or mention the letters, although they tacitly drew from
them all their arguments, and by exactly following the advice with which
they conclude, made them the sole cause of their safety and triumph.
They had imposed on me this duty: I had fulfilled it, and unto the end
had served their cause and the country. I begged of them to abandon me,
and in their quarrels to think of nobody but themselves. They took me at
my word, and I concerned myself no more about their affairs, further than
constantly to exhort them to peace, not doubting, should they
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