Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.
As you like it.
The Duke of Tyrconnel and his family, and particularly the lovely Adelaide, were delighted with the tranquillity of Brussels, and often, accompanied by Sir David Bruce, they gladly sojourned at the ancient chateau of Tervuren, about three leagues distant from Brussels, and situated in the forest of Soignies, where a cold collation was frequently prepared for them, and which they not only seemed to relish, but were happier in its enjoyment than although it had been served to them on golden plate in palaces of kings.
Upon one of these pleasant excursions the duke, who was riding next Sir Patricius Placebo, while passing through the forest his Grace said: "I never, Sir Patricius, felt so happy—so far, at least, as regards my own personal feelings—as now I do, and always feel upon these our little expeditions, if I could forget—if indeed I ever could forget that my royal master is an exile from his dominions! Save this consideration, I repine not for myself, nor would I exchange social leisure and rural retirement for all the pomp of camps and courts, and power political."
"I fully concur," rejoined Sir Patricius, "in your Grace's sentiments, and in the words of a true Amicus I may thus reply:—
"I would not change it: happy is your Grace
That can translate the stubbornness of fortune
Into so quiet and so sweet a style."
The duke now rode up to the side of the carriage to make some observations to the duchess, when Sir David said:—
"I think, nevertheless, good Sir Patricius, with old truth-telling Persius,