Escaped from the heat and noise of the city, I went, a few years ago, some fifty miles into the country, to spend a short time with a friend, who lived in a pleasant village, the quiet air of which had never been disturbed by rushing steamboat or rumbling car. There was to me a Sabbath stillness about the place that made the brief time I sojourned in Heathdale a period of rest to my spirit. The scenery around the village was rather picturesque than bold. There were high hills, but no mountains; deep valleys, but no abrupt precipices. Far away along the distant horizon lay heavy blue masses, like clouds; but, though their shapes looked fantastic, they never changed. My friend was a physician, and his practice lay for miles around the village of Heathdale. In order to have the pleasure of his society, as well as to enjoy the beautiful scenery, I usually went with him in all his country visits. One morning he said to me, “I shall have rather a longer ride than usual to-day; but as it will be through some of the finest scenery we have, you must be my companion.” I did not hesitate. Recreation of mind and body was my object in visiting the country, and in no better way could I find both. So, when the doctor’s light carriage drove up, I was ready to step into it. In talking of the past, the present, and the future, as well as in remarking upon the various objects of interest around us, we spent an hour, by which time we were riding along an old, grass-covered road, winding in many a graceful sweep, and lined by tall poplars that had seen their palmiest days. “Wealth and taste have left their marks here,” I said, as a fine old mansion, situated upon a gentle eminence, came in sight. “Yes,” replied the doctor, “both have been here.” “But are hardly present now, I should think.” “No. They disappeared long since. Ten years ago a lovelier spot than this could hardly have been found; nor one in which were happier hearts. But now the hearth is desolate. ‘The bright fire quenched and gone.’ I never like to come here. Of the many who lived and loved in this sweet spot one only remains shivering by the darkened fireside.”