in the agony of suspense. A day came for his wife to visit with an old school mate. He welcomed her departure with fiendish delight. Like every jealous husband, when left at home alone, he went in for turning the house upside down. He lost no time in ransacking it from top to bottom. Not a closet, trunk or drawer escaped his notice. The skeleton was there, and he was bound to find it, before he stopped, and before his wife returned. At last he discovered a little drawer in a stand in his wife's toilet room, locked. It holds the secret. He remembered seeing his wife lock it before she left and put the key in her pocket. He was so impatient he could hardly wait to find some means of opening the drawer. He found a key that fitted the lock, and quickly the contents were before him. A bundle nicely tied up caught his attention. Hastily he broke it open. It contained a score or more of letters in a gentleman's hand writing; genuine love letters addressed to "my heart's idol." The writer was deeply in love and poured out his expressions of devotion in glowing language. He offers his hand to his adored, and is accepted. He is extremely anxious to have the happy day named early, when they should be one. Each letter closed with " yours till we meet again." A simple initial letter was all there was for signature. The husband read them over hastily and learned that a consummation of their plans was soon to be realized. A casket containing costly jewels with the engagement ring was also found bearing the same initial letter, and that initial letter was first in his wife's name. The solution of the whole mystery flashed upon his excited brain. The talking of his wife in her sleep, was now fully explained. It was simply rehearsing the plans that had been laid to destroy his peace and darken his home, and to ruin it. The apparent affection and devotion of his wife for him was all assumed to blind him, and conceal her false-heartedness. She was keeping up the deception until all was ready for an elopement, or perhaps to put him out of the way. He was now mad, and his madness knew no bounds. The thought that he had lavished his wealth, his all, on a wife who was a base deceiver, a hypocrite, goaded him to a wild frenzy, to desperation. He paced the floor back and forth, in a transport of rage. He dreaded to have his wife return. If she would never darken his door again he would be satisfied. She might go and enjoy her new found alliance. He could endure being

alone a hundred times better than to live in suspense with a wife who was false-hearted, and who was carrying on an intrigue, the result of which he knew nothing, or even what his own fate might be. At evening time his wife returned, and came skipping along up the walk like a school girl who had secured 100 per cent. on examination day, and had won the prize, and was impatient to tell of it, happy as she could be. The husband had cooled down somewhat from the high state of excitement he had been in most of the day, and put on the appearance of being glad to see his wife at home once more. The wife embraced him most lovingly, and giving him a hearty kiss, as usual, said she had enjoyed her visit exceedingly well. She took pleasure in telling how she had lived over her school days at Vassar, and enjoyed the pleasure of hearing how her friend had spent the time since they had graduated, and of her marriage and her happy home, and of her children, all so nice. The wife added, “No home so happy as ours, is there darling?" So the evening passed. They retired as usual. The wife imparted the good-night kiss, and was soon fast asleep. The husband couldn't sleep. As the strongest love becomes the bitterest hate when reversed, so now the husband hated his wife with all the intensity of his being. The wife never awoke from her peaceful slumbers. The news of her sudden demise sent a pang of grief to the hearts of her friends and neighbors.

How mysterious are the ways of Providence! Why death should have entered the happiest home in the city and carried away a young wife in the flush of health, the idol of a doting husband, the sunlight of his home, was past comprehension. An inexplicable mystery-a mystery of mysteries. She was too good for earth and the angels came for her. The golden gates were ajar and she passed through. What a blessing to die as she died, falling asleep on earth to awake in paradise. Great sympathy was expressed for the husband. "He is overcome." "He is all broken down." "His grief is too deep for expression."

A day or two after the funeral a young lady, in deep mourning, called on the husband. She had been a classmate of his wife at Vassar, and they had kept up correspondence ever since they graduated. In fact, she had spent two weeks with her during his absence. She was as dear to her as an own sister. She could sympathize

with him. She, too, had been smitten with a greater sorrow, if that were possible. She had been engaged to a young man of fine accomplishments and of very prepossessing appearance. She expected to have been married. The time had been set for the wedding. "No one ever looked forward with brighter hopes or fonder anticipations than I did. My cup of happiness was full and running over. I was busy one day in arranging the sitting-room, singing as usual, and happy as a lark. A newspaper lay on the floor. I took it up, and as I did so my eye caught "Wedding Bells." The name of my intended was the principal, the bridegroom. The paper fell from my hands and I sank to the floor. I was uncon scious until the next day, and when I returned to consciousness I found, as you can see, that one-half of my hair had turned white during the night. The shock to my system was too much for me. My friends have done all they could for me. I couldn't find rest at home and have traveled much of the time since. Some have advised me to sue for a breach of promise, but I have no desire to do that. The thought of going into court, and to live over again all I have passed through, is utterly abhorrent. There is not money enough in the world to heal a broken heart or bring back happiness. When I was visiting here with your wife, in your absence, I confided to her care a package of letters and a casket of jewels containing the engagement ring. I asked your wife to read the letters at her leisure, and then write me if I was mistaken as to the writer's having accepted me as his intended wife. Your wife wrote me several letters since your return, and she expressed herself very freely that I was certainly justified in considering that we were engaged. She felt great sympathy for me, and said that night after night, for weeks, she was reading over those letters in her sleep. She became so much excited over them that she would not have been surprised if her husband had told her that she "talked" in her sleep. I left the letters with her to do what she pleased with them after she had read them. She may have burned them If she did, I shall be glad. If she did not, possibly you may discover them, now that you are breaking up housekeeping. I would like to know that they are destroyed."

A thunder-clap from a clear sky at mid-day could not have startled him more. The secret flashed upon him instantly why his wife

had "talked " in her sleep. Ten thousand needles could not have pierced his heart as conscience was now piercing his soul through and through. He is now a fugitive from justice, fleeing and none pursuing. He cannot rest. He knows the stamp of Cain is upon his forehead, and that he cannot escape from that lynx-eyed fiend—a victim of that demon, JEALOUSY.

"Jealousy often draws after it a fatal train of consequences."Addison.

PURPOSE.

THE MATERIAL WORLD SHOWS IT.

Everything was created for a purpose. The Creator has made nothing in vain. No mistakes mar his plans and purposes. Which ever way we look, whether earthward or heavenward, we see our selves surrounded on every hand by the grand display of His creative power. The psalmist says, "For I am fearfully and wonderfully made." The earth is but an atom in the vast universe of worlds and systems of worlds that are hung up in the heavens. Each system and its worlds are linked to some other systems. The flaming orbs, the fiery chariots sweeping around in their orbits with a velocity and precision that surpasses the comprehension of finite minds, display the infinite power of Him who spake and it was done. A world leaped forth from chaos and went on its mission, and it moves in harmony with every other world in its own system, showing a design, a plan, a purpose, in the mind of the Divine Architect. What order and regularity marks the revolution of every planet. With perfect time each keeps and performs its revolutions, so that the astronomer can determine to the fraction of a minute, centuries in advance, the eclipses that will occur. The grand planetary combination moves slowly, steadily, silently and surely, accomplishing a sublime purpose. The hand on Time's dial moves forward a point, which marks an epoch, and may register the work of centuries, perhaps a million of years. Our

earth is in itself a marvel-a mystery; yet it is but an atom in the vast universe of which it is a part. The earth is made up of atoms, every one stamped for a purpose by the hand of the Creator. Every drop of water, every grain of sand, sparkles with a divine inspiration and for a purpose. Each are fulfilling a mission with unerring certainty. Nothing in Nature is idle. Nothing is in absolute rest. Nature with all her forces is ever active. The changes and transformations, the great upheavals of islands and continents, the rising and falling of vast bodies of water, changing the earth's surface from fertile fields to seas, and vice versa, are but the results of the constant and continued activity that is ever manifest in Nature's vast workshop.

The coal we use for fuel is but the storing away of the sunshine of centuries, perhaps millions of years ago. The vivifying rays of the sun fell upon the moist ground, causing a rank growth of grasses and other prolific vegetation, weighted down with the immense pressure of mountains piled upon mountains and baked over subterranean fires, and the coal fields are the product. The oil with which we illuminate our homes is from nature's vast distillery hid away in earth's secret chambers.

PURPOSES INCOMPREHENSIBLE TO FINITE MINDS.

We are lost in amazement and our minds become bewildered when we attempt to solve the mysteries of the earth upon which we dwell. The vast treasures of mineral wealth hidden away in the mountains were not the work of accident, or blind chance, but were placed there for a purpose. That purpose was for the development of the human race to a broader and higher type of manhood, of civilization, and science has made them available and valuable for the accomplishment of the grandest results and the highest purposes of life. However well one may be able to read the book of nature, there are mysteries in creation which baffle the most gigantic intellects. The microscope reveals mysteries past all human comprehension. We can take up a million particles of dust between our thumb and finger, soft as silk, and valuable for its superior adaptability for polishing gold and silver, yet one atom of this dust is a single shell, once the dwelling place of an insect, perfectly organized life, perfect in its class and order as an elephant