dozen. The journeyman did the other twelve; were regularly paid; regularly
turned off when the job was out of hand; and never once had to 'strike for
wages.' How much beer was allowed, I cannot say. This is the truth of the
matter. So no more fibbing, Schlosser, if you please.

But there remains behind all these labors of Pope, the 'Dunciad,' which is
by far his greatest. I shall not, within the narrow bounds assigned to me,
enter upon a theme so exacting; for, in this instance, I should have to
fight not against Schlosser only, but against Dr. Johnson, who has
thoroughly misrepresented the nature of the 'Dunciad,' and, consequently,
could not measure its merits. Neither he, nor Schlosser, in fact, ever
read more than a few passages of this admirable poem. But the villany is
too great for a brief exposure. One thing only I will notice of
Schlosser's misrepresentations. He asserts (not when directly speaking of
Pope, but afterwards, under the head of Voltaire) that the French author's
trivial and random _Temple de Gout_ 'shows the superiority in this
species of poetry to have been greatly on the side of the Frenchman.'
Let's hear a reason, though but a Schlosser reason, for this opinion:
know, then, all men whom it concerns, that 'the Englishman's satire only
hit such people as would never have been known without his mention of
them, whilst Voltaire selected those who were still called great, and
their respective schools.' Pope's men, it seems, never _had_ been
famous--Voltaire's might cease to be so, but as yet they had _not_
ceased; as yet they commanded interest. Now mark how I will put three
bullets into that plank, riddle it so that the leak shall not be stopped
by all the old hats in Heidelberg, and Schlosser will have to swim for his
life. First, he is forgetting that, by his own previous confession,
Voltaire, not less than Pope, had 'immortalized a great many
_insignificant_ persons;' consequently, had it been any fault to do
so, each alike was caught in that fault; and insignificant as the people