at city, the
old papa Roguin had the candor to inform me with grief, as he said,
that in he papers of his relation, proofs had been found of his
having been concerned in the conspiracy to expel me from Yverdon and
the state of Berne. This clearly proved the conspiracy not to be,
as some people pretended to believe, an affair of hypocrisy since
the banneret, far from being a devotee, carried materialism and
incredulity to intolerance and fanaticism. Besides, nobody at
Yverdon had shown me more constant attention, nor had so prodigally
bestowed upon me praises and flattery as this banneret. He
faithfully followed the favorite plan of my persecutors.]

This Peter Boy was such a brute; so stupid, and behaved so uncouthly,
that, to prevent my mind from being disturbed, I took the liberty to
ridicule him; and after the manner of the 'Petit Prophete', I wrote a
pamphlet of a few pages, entitled, 'la Vision de Pierre de la Montagne
dit le Voyant,--[The vision of Peter of the Mountain called the
Seer.]--in which I found means to be diverting enough on the miracles
which then served as the great pretext for my persecution. Du Peyrou
had this scrap printed at Geneva, but its success in the country was but
moderate; the Neuchatelois with all their wit, taste but weakly attic
salt or pleasantry when these are a little refined.

In the midst of decrees and persecutions, the Genevese had distinguished
themselves by setting up a hue and cry with all their might; and my
friend Vernes amongst others, with an heroical generosity, chose that
moment precisely to publish against me letters in which he pretended to
prove I was not a Christian. These letters, written with an air of
self-sufficiency were not the better for it, although it was positively
said the celebrated Bonnet had given them some correction: for this man,
although a materialist, has an intolerant orthodoxy the moment I am in
question. There certainly was nothing in this work which could tempt me
to answer it; but having an opportunity of saying a few words upon it in
my 'Letters from the Mountain', I inserted in them a short note
sufficiently expressive of disdain to render Vernes furious. He filled
Geneva with his furious exclamations, and D'Ivernois wrote me word he had
quite lost his senses. Sometime afterwards appeared an anonymous sheet,
which instead of ink seemed to be written with water of Phelethon. In
this