"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;--and had a momentary joy! And, alas, this
was not the right dog; this, we say, was Travenol a Fiddler at the
Opera, who, except the street-noises, knew nothing of Voltaire;
much less had the least pique at him; but had taken to hawking
certain Pasquils (Jingler Roi's COLLECTION, it appears), to turn a
desirable penny by them.

"And mistakes were made in the Affair Travenol,--old FATHER
Travenol haled to prison, instead of Son,--by the Lieutenant of
Police and his people. And Voltaire took the high-hand method
(being well at Court):--and thereupon hungry Advocates took up Dog
Travenol and his pincered ears: 'Serene Judges of the Chatelet,
Most Christian Populace of Paris, did you ever see a Dog so
pincered by an Academical Gentleman before, merely for being
hungry?' And Voltaire, getting madder and madder, appealed to the
Academy (which would not interfere); filed Criminal Informations;
appealed to the Chatelet, to the Courts above and to the Courts
below; and, for almost a year, there went on the 'PROCES-TRAVENOL:'