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. The next year he became Fellow of the
College of Physicians.

In June 1755 he read the Galstonian lectures in anatomy before the
College of Physicians, and in the next year the Croonian lectures
before the same institution. The subject of the latter course was
the "History of the Revival of Letters," which some of the learned
Thebans thought not germane to the matter; and, consequently, after
he had delivered three lectures, he desisted in disgust. This fact
seems somewhat to contradict Dr. Johnson's assertion, that "Akenside
appears not to have been wanting to his own success, and placed
himself in view by all the common methods." Had he been a thoroughly
self-seeking man, he never would have committed the blunder of
choosing literature as a subject of predilection to men who were
probably most of them materialists, or at least destitute of