sort. As Voltaire had rather the habit of such sad melancholy
Lawsuits, we will pause on this of Travenol for a moment:--

3. SUMMARY OF TRAVENOL LAWSUIT. "Monday, 9th May, 1746, was the Day
or reception at the Academy; reception and fruition, thrice-savory to
Voltaire. But what an explosion of the Doggeries, before, during and
after that event! Voltaire had tried to be prudent, too. He had been
corresponding with Popes, with Cardinals; and, in a fine frank-looking
way, capturing their suffrages:--not by lying, which in general he
wishes to avoid, but by speaking half the truth; in short, by advancing,
in a dexterous, diplomatic way, the uncloven foot, in those Vatican
precincts. And had got the Holy Father's own suffrage for MAHOMET (think
of that, you Ass of Mirepoix!), among other cases that might rise. When
this seat among the Forty fell vacant, his very first measure--mark it,
Orthodox reader--was a Letter to the Chief Jesuit, Father Latour, Head
of one's old College of Louis le Grand. A Letter of fine filial
tenor: 'My excellent old Schoolmasters, to whom I owe everything; the
representatives of learning, of decorum, of frugality and modest human
virtue:--in what contrast to the obscure Doggeries poaching about in
the street-gutters, and flying at the peaceable passenger!'
[In--Voltairiana, ou Eloges Amphigouriques,--&c. (Paris, 1748), i.
150-160, the LETTER itself, "Paris, 7th February, 1746;" omitted
(without need or real cause on any side) in the common Collections
of--OEuvres de Voltaire.--] Which captivated Father Latour; and made
matters smooth on that side; so that even the ANCIEN DE MIREPOIX said
nothing, this time: What could he say? No cloven foot visible, and the
Authorities strong.

"Voltaire had started as Candidate with these judicious preliminaries.
Voltaire was elected, as we saw; fine Discourse, 9th May; and on the
Official side all things comfortable. But, in the mean while, the
Doggeries, as natural, seeing the thing now likely, had risen to
a never-imagined pitch; and had filled Paris, and, to Voltaire's
excruciated sense, the Universe, with their howlings and their
hyena-laughter, with their pasquils, satires, old and new. So that
Voltaire could not stand it; and, in evil hour, rushed downstairs
upon them; seized one poor dog, Travenol, unknown to him as Fiddler or
otherwise; pinioned Dog Travenol, with pincers, by the ears, him for
one;--proper Police-pincers, for we are now well at Court;--