Revolution, and was still held by it.

Our conversation was almost wholly with two of the fathers (they use the
prefix _Dom_), whose names I forget, and have mislaid my memorandum of
them. One of these had been in England, when driven out; and was there
protected by the Weld family in Dorsetshire, of whom he spoke in terms
of sincere gratitude and respect. The other told us that he was a native
of Chambery, and had done no more than cross the mountains to get home.
On asking him for Gray's Ode, he shook his head, saying, the Revolution
had robbed them of that, and every thing else; but repeated the first
line of it, so that there was no mistake as to the object of my inquiry.
From what occurred afterwards, it appears, however, to be questionable
whether he knew more than the first line; for I was informed that later
English travellers had been attempting, from a laudable desire of
diffusing information, to write out the whole in the present Album of
the Chartreuse, by contributing a line or stanza, as their recollection
served; but that, after all, this pic-nic composition was not exactly
what Gray wrote. Of course, had our friend the Dom known how to supply
the deficiencies, he would have done it.

There is a translation of the Ode by James Hay Beattie, son of the
professor and poet, printed amongst his poems, which is much less known
than its merits deserve. And I would beg to suggest to such of your
readers as may in the course of their travels visit this monastery, that
books (need I say _proper_ ones?) would be a most acceptable present to
the library; also, that there is a regular Album kept, in which those
who, in this age of "talent" and "intelligence," consider themselves
able to write better lines than Gray's, are at liberty to do so if they
please.

A very happy conjecture appeared in the _European Magazine_ some time
between 1804 and 1808, as to the conclusion of the stanzas to Mr.
Beattie. The corner of the paper on which they had been written as torn
off; and Mr. Mason supplies what is deficient in the following manner,
the words added by him being printed in Italics:--

"Enough for me, if to some feeling breast
My lines a secret sympathy _impart_;
And as their pleasing influence _flows confest_,
A sign of soft reflection _heave the heart_." {417}

This, it will be seen, is prosaic enough; but the correspondent of the
_E. Mag._ supposes the lines to have ended differently; and that the
po