There is one thing certain, which contains a poor comfort, but a strong one—­a poor one, because it reduces us all to the same level—­it is this:  we may be sure that not one of us is without disappointment.  The footman is as badly off as his master, and the master as the footman.  The courtier is disappointed of his place, and the minister of his ambition.  Cardinal Wolsey lectures his secretary Cromwell, and tells him of his disappointed ambition; but Cromwell had his troubles as well.  Henry the Eighth, the king who broke them both, might have put up the same prayer; and the pope, who was a thorn in Harry’s side, no doubt had a peck of disappointments of his own.  Nature not only abhors a vacuum, but she utterly repudiates an entirely successful man.  There probably never lived one yet to whom the morning did not bring some disaster, the evening some repulse.  John Hunter, the greatest, most successful surgeon, the genius, the wonder, the admired of all, upon whose words they whose lives had been spent in science hung, said, as he went to his last lecture, “If I quarrel with any one to-night, it will kill me.”  An obstinate surgeon of the old school denied one of his assertions, and called him a liar.  It was enough.  Hunter was carried into the next room, and died.  He had for years suffered from a diseased heart, and was quite conscious of his fate.  That was his disappointment.  Happy are they who, in this world of trial, meet their disappointments in their youth, not in their old age; then let them come and welcome, not too thick to render us morose, but like Spring mornings, frosty but kindly, the cold of which will kill the vermin, but will let the plant live; and let us rely upon it, that the best men (and women, too) are those who have been early disappointed.

* * * * *

XXV.

THE THREE KINGS.

AN OLD STORY IN A NEW LIGHT.

    Gaspar, a king and shepherd,
     Alone at the door of his tent,
    Thus mused, his eyes uplifted
     And fixed on the firmament: 

    “Is it a dream, this vision
     That haunts me day and night,
    This beautiful manifestation
     Of some eternal delight?

    God set me to watching and waiting
     Long years and years ago,
    Waiting and watching for something
     My heart could not forego.

    I caught the hope of the nations,
     The desire of the common heart,
    Which grew to an expectation
     That would not from me depart.

    My soul was filled with hunger
     Deeper than I can tell,
    The while I watched for the shining
     Of the Star in Israel.

    O Star, to arise in Jacob! 
     I cried as my heart grew bold;
    O Star, to arise in Jacob,
     By prophecy seen of old!

    For the sight of Thee I am dying,
     For the joy of Thy Beautiful Face! 
    Of Thy coming give me a token,
     Grant me this favor and grace!