Hath thwarted our intents,”
well laid and discreetly devised as they seemed to be.
And as with the seemingly laudable plans of the prudent, so with the arrogant designs of the self-confident. The enemy said, “I will pursue, I will overtake, I will divide the spoil; my lust shall be satisfied upon them; I will draw my sword; my hand shall destroy them.” Thus said the enemy, even Pharaoh’s host, on the shores of the Red Sea. But then sang Moses and the children of Israel this song unto the Lord: “Thou didst blow with Thy wind, the sea covered them; they sank as lead in the mighty waters.” It is but an emphasised reading of the standard text, that the Lord bringeth the counsel of the heathen to nought, and maketh the devices of the people of none effect, and casteth out the counsel of princes. Whereas, turning from man proposing to God disposing, “The counsel of the Lord shall endure for ever, and the thoughts of His heart from generation to generation.” The same is He of whom it is written that He turneth wise men backwards, and maketh their knowledge foolish.
Wordsworth, ever a moralist, moralised his song when, at a critical juncture in the legend of the “White Doe of Rylstone,” he interposed this reflection:—
“But quick the turns of chance and change,
And knowledge has a narrow range;
Whence idle fears, and needless pain,
And wishes blind, and efforts vain.”
For a closing variation on the present theme, a worse might be found than this from the play within the play of “Hamlet:”—
“But, orderly to end where I begun,—