Graviseth's anonymously published Heutelia, only superficially mentioned in manuals of Swiss literature (except Ermatinger's), deserves a short analytic study both on account of its interest as a state-satire preceding the Age of Enlightenment and on account of the rarity of its editions, which are not accessible to scholars in America.

The book, published in 1658, does not greatly point to the past, although its satirical trends, its realistic and grobianistic elements, and its dislike of monks and women do indeed remind us of the esprit gaulois of Rabelais and the mentality of Fischart and the pamphleteers of the Reformation. More important is the political aspect of this diary of a critical journey through Switzerland; and the whole tenor of Heutelia, the penetrating analyses of men and their institutions, the sharp attacks against the vices of the ancien régime and the bigoted intolerance of the church, make the book an early forerunner of Montesquieu's Lettres persanes. Its style is still baroque and its vocabulary full of foreign words; but in its keen political criticism this book inaugurates an era of greater liberalism. Graviseth, a German aristocrat from the Palatinate who had become citizen of Bern, may well be likened to Albrecht von Haller, because both of them, though aristocrats to the core, tried equally discreetly to work for greater social justice for all. Haller's state-novels attempt it in the realm of pure thought, in carefully worded philosophical and political dialogues; while Graviseth, much more realistic and earthy, mingles jokes and coarseness in his paragraphs, ridiculing the masses for their materialistic viciousness.