But, with a slight change of title and text, the same theme is pursued, in the section next ensuing, through another fugue-course of variations. _MAN DEVISING, GOD DIRECTING._ PROVERBS xvi. 9. “A man’s heart deviseth his way; but the Lord directeth his steps.” Man devises, God directs; man proposes, God disposes. There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, and practicable, plausible, easy of accomplishment, and sure of success. But the counsel of the Lord puts a veto on the scheme; and the counsel of the Lord, that shall stand. Luther charges it against princes and potentates in his day, that when they take in hand an enterprise, they do not pray before they begin, but set to work calculating: three times three make nine, twice seven are fourteen—so-and-so will do so-and-so—in this manner will the business come to a prosperous issue: “but our Lord God says unto them, For whom then do ye hold me? for a cypher? Do I sit here above in vain, and to no purpose? Ye shall know, that I will twist your accounts about finely, and make them all false reckonings.” Says old Alice, in “Mary Barton,” “I sometimes think the Lord is against planning. Whene’er I plan over much, He is sure to send and mar all my plans, as if He would ha’ me put the future into His hands. Afore Christmas-time I was as full as full could be of going home for good and all; yo has heard how I’ve wished it this terrible long time.... Many a winter’s night did I lie awake and think that, please God, come summer, I’d go home at last. Little did I think how God Almighty would baulk me for not leaving my days in His hands, who had led me through the wilderness hitherto.” It is very like Rousseau to say, in reference to a fully determined project of his, for the fulfilment of which nothing was wanting but “ce qui ne dépend pas des hommes dans les projets les mieux concertés,”—that “on dirait qu’il n’y a que les noirs complots des méchants qui réussissent; les projets innocents des bons n’ont presque jamais d’accomplissement.” But who can hope for anything like contentment, as Mr. Helps somewhere asks, so long as he continues to attach that ridiculous degree of importance to the events of this life which so many people are inclined to do? Observe, he bids us, the effect which it has upon them: they are most uncomfortable if their little projects do not turn out according to their fancy—nothing is to be angular to them—they regard external things as the only realities; and as they have fixed their abode here, they must have it arranged to their mind. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu assures one of her correspondents that never had she been so little mistress of her own time and actions as since she lived alone; and going on to account for this, she observes, “Mankind is placed in a state of dependency, not only on one another (which all are in some degree), but so many inevitable accidents thwart our designs and limit our best-laid projects.” The poor efforts of our