Part 35

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.

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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!

At length there came an answer Flaming the desolate year, A revelation of beauty, A more than mortal cheer;

For afar in the kindly heavens The blessed token I saw! And now my life is transfigured, And lost in a nameless awe.

In a nameless awe I wander, As one with a joy untold, Too great for his own defining, Too great for him to withhold.

But deep in my heart is the secret, And in yonder beckoning Star, And I must wait for the telling Until I can hasten afar,--

Until I can find in travel A heart akin to mine, That day and night is adoring And imploring beauty divine.

And so I will share the gladness Which God intends for the world; And so will I lift the banner, To remain forever unfurled."

Hardly had Gaspar ended The musing he loved so well, When he heard the dreamy tinkle Of a distant camel-bell.

He set his tent in order; He brought forth of his best, After the Arab custom, To welcome the coming guest.

Who is this eager stranger Dismounted so soon at the door? A king from another kingdom, Who has traveled the desert o'er,

In search of the same communion That Gaspar was longing for. And before of food he tasted, Thus spake King Melchior:

"O Gaspar, God hath sent me In the light of a peaceful Star, To tell thee, my royal brother, What my sweet communings are.

My life has been hid with Nature For many a quiet year, And in the hearts of my people, Whose love hath cast out fear.

And I have been a dweller With God, who is everywhere, On earth, in the stars, the Spirit Sublimest, calmest, most fair.

Among his mediators And messengers of rest, Which fill the earth and the heavens, The stars I reckoned the best.

To the stars I gave my study, I watched them rise and set, And heard the music of silence My soul can not forget;--

The music that seemed prophetic Of the reign of peace to come, When men shall live as lovers In the quiet of one dear home.