Two odes, addressed by the latter to the
former, immortalise this incomplete and abortive amity.
The years 1750 and 1751 were only signalised in Akenside's history
by one or two dull odes from his pen. But if not witty at that time
himself, he gave occasion to wit in others. Smollett, provoked, it
is said, by some aspersions Akenside had in conversation cast on
Scotland, and at all times prone to bitter and sarcastic views of
men and manners, fell foul of him in "Peregrine Pickle." If our
readers care for wading through that filthy novel--the most
disagreeable, although not the dullest of Smollett's fictions--they
will find a caricature of our poet in the character of the "Doctor,"
who talks nonsense about liberty, quotes and praises his own poetry,
and invites his friends to an entertainment in the manner of the
ancients--a feast hideously accurate in its imitation of antique
cookery, and forming, if not an "entertainment" to the guests, a very
rich one to the readers of the tale. How Akenside bore this we are
not particularly informed. Probably he writhed in secret, but was
too proud to acknowledge his feelings. In 1753 he was consoled by
receiving a doctor's degree from Cambridge, and by being elected
Fellow of the Royal Society.
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