had he been able to have written another such satire against Hume and
his followers, as Swift's "Battle of the Books," Butler's "Elephant in
the Moon," or Voltaire's "Micromegas." Had he had sufficient wit and
sufficient knowledge, the inconsistencies, absurdities, and endless
quarrels of metaphysicians might have furnished an admirable field! But
wit was hardly one of his qualities, and his knowledge of these subjects
was superficial. In fact, the gentle "minstrel" warring against
philosophy, reminds us of a plain English scholar attacking the Talmud,
or of one who had never crossed the 'Pons Asinorum' slandering the
Fluxions of Newton.

The essay appeared in 1770, and became instantly popular, passed through
five large editions in four years, and was translated into foreign
tongues. Hume smiled at it in his sleeve, but attempted no answer.
Burke, Johnson, and Warburton, who must have seen through its sounding
shallowness, pardoned and praised it for its good intentions, and
because its author, though a champion rather showy than strong, was on
the right side. Flushed by its success, Beattie, in 1771, revisited
London, and obtained admission to the best literary circles--sate under
the "peacock-hangings" of Mrs Montague--visited Hagley Park, and became
intimate with Lord Lyttelton--chatted cheerily with Boswell and
Garrick--listened with wonder to the deep bow-wows of Johnson's
talk--and as he watched the rich alluvial, yet romantic mountain stream
of thought, knowledge, and imagery that flowed perpetually from the
inspired lips of Burke, perhaps forgot Gray and Glammis Castle, and felt
"a greater is here." These men, in their turn, seem all to have liked
Beattie, although the full 'quid pro quo' of praise came only from
Lord Lyttelton, who vowed that in him Thomson had come back from the
shades, much purified and refined by his Elysian sojourn! Beattie, we
fear, was a little spoiled by the flatteries he received from Lyttelton