which, acrimonious and unjust as it is, is full of spirit, and shows
Beattie in the character of a "good hater."

In 1763, he had visited London, where almost his only acquaintance was
Andrew Millar, the bookseller, and where nothing remarkable occurred
except a visit to Pope's Villa at Twickenham. In 1765, he had been
invited by the Earl of Strathmore to meet with Gray, then on a visit at
Glammis Castle. Lovelier spot, or more appropriate for the meeting of
two poets, does not exist in broad Scotland than the Castle of Glammis,
with its tall, vast, antique structure, towering over its ancient park,
and shadowed by large ancestral trees--with its interior full of the
quiet memories, quaint paintings, and collected curiosities of a
thousand years--with its chapel situated in the very groin of the
edifice, and in whose dim religious light you see walls surrounded, by
some female hand of a past age, with curious pictures--and with its
leaden roof, commanding a wide view over forest and lawn, village and
stream, mountain, meadow, and all the glories which replenish the long,
fair valley of Strathmore. Here the poets met, and spent two delightful
days. Beattie was amazed at the taste, the judgment, and the extensive
learning of Gray; and Gray, an older and a more fastidious man, was
nevertheless delighted with Beattie's enthusiasm, bonhommie, and heart.

In 1767, he married Mary, the daughter of Dr Dunn, rector of the Grammar
School, Aberdeen. She was an amiable and lovely woman. Dr Johnson, when
he saw her in London, along with her husband, seemed to think more
highly of her than of him. He was not aware, however, of a fact which
became afterwards distressingly apparent--that from her mother she
inherited a tendency to insanity, which broke out in capricious
waywardness, some time before it culminated in madness. We know not but
this may explain Dr Johnson's saying to Boswell--"Beattie," he said,