Blaire had a country-house at St. Gratien, and Mathas, his old
acquaintance, sometimes went to see him there. He made him read Emilius
before it was published. When he returned it to him, M. de Blaire
expressed himself in the following terms, which were repeated to me the
same day: "M. Mathas, this is a very fine work, but it will in a short
time be spoken of more than, for the author might be wished." I laughed
at the prediction, and saw in it nothing more than the importance of a
man of the robe, who treats everything with an air of mystery. All the
alarming observations repeated to me made no impression upon my mind,
and, far from foreseeing the catastrophe so near at hand, certain of the
utility and excellence of my work, and that I had in every respect
conformed to established rules; convinced, as I thought I was that I
should be supported by all the credit of M. de Luxembourg and the favor
of the ministry, I was satisfied with myself for the resolution I had
taken to retire in the midst of my triumphs, and at my return to crush
those by whom I was envied.

One thing in the publication of the work alarmed me, less on account of
my safety than for the unburdening of my mind. At the Hermitage and at
Montmorency I had seen with indignation the vexations which the jealous
care of the pleasures of princes causes to be exercised on wretched
peasants, forced to suffer the havoc made by game in their fields,
without daring to take any other measure to prevent this devastation than
that of making a noise, passing the night amongst the beans and peas,
with drums, kettles and bells, to keep off the wild boars. As I had been
a witness to the barbarous cruelty with which the Comte de Charolois
treated these poor people, I had toward the end of Emilius exclaimed
against it. This was another infraction of my maxims, which has not
remained unpunished. I was informed that the people of the Prince of
Conti were but little less severe upon his, estates; I trembled less that