Alas! how short-sighted is man? How quickly are his deep-laid schemes, his skillfully-concocted plans, suddenly overthrown by some unforseen circumstance which had never entered as a factor into his calculations? Man is frequently standing on the very verge of a volcano, and knows it not till the soil crumbles beneath his feet. FOOTNOTE: [1] A paleness rests on her face, leanness in the whole body, Never looks direct; her teeth are black with rust: Her breast green with gall; her tongue is dripping with venom. CHAPTER II. A GREAT CHANGE. It is sometimes the case that we have premonitions that vaguely forewarn us of approaching ill fortune. Not a cloud appears above the horizon of our life, and yet we instinctively shrink from an undefinable something that seems to reach far out in advance of the shadow of coming events. Probably there are powers in the human mind whose development has been prevented by the dread of superstition. The animal seeks shelter from the approaching storm before man has discovered the slightest indication of atmospheric disturbance, or whatever it may be that warns the unreasoning brute of impending danger. May there not be some similar delicate instinct in man that perceives the advancing peril while it is still below the horizon of reality? Who knows? Or discarding human philosophy as insufficient to furnish a solution, may we not regard this shadowy _mene tekel upharsin_ as an emanation from a supernatural source? Men are so skeptical and incredulous and so afraid of “superstition” that they will attribute incomprehensible events to any cause rather than divine interposition. Some assume that miracles never have been performed; and others, that the days of miracles have passed away, and in consequence of this assumption, they ascribe nothing to the hand of Omnipotence. Evolution, correlated forces, natural selection, origin of species, and such terms have left no place in the nomenclature of science for the recognition of the hand of Deity. Unholy skepticism declares that divine direction in the affairs of men is but the unfounded fancy of religious fanaticism. But we do know that in ancient times the Lord sent warnings through the medium of dreams and visions. By what authority do we assume that such means of communication have been abolished? At any rate, such a feeling, a feeling of vague uneasiness, mingled with the thoughts of Ernest Edgefield. He was engaged to be married, and had the utmost confidence in the fidelity and stability of his affianced; and yet he was disturbed by a dim, indistinct sense of unrest, which defied all efforts of analysis. It was like trying to follow an obscure mist by the uncertain light of the moon. He endeavored to reason himself out of his foolish apprehensions. What had he to fear? The course of his own true love seemed to be running smooth. In a few weeks the engagement would be consummated. Then, why this dread? Was it not, after all, produced by Mr. Hillston’s