Expiring Embers 333 



to be in rivalry or envious of each other. There is 

 a faint little twinkler near my splendid emerald 

 star, which just keeps on shining as calmly as if it 

 were the only star in the skies. And then they are 

 quiet, and self-possessed, and kindly. Star society 

 would seem to be a very agreeable social circle in 

 which to live. 



As the sun descended this evening I was not sur- 

 prised, nor when it became dark, nor when my loved 

 ones retired to their rest, nor when the camp-fire 

 burned low; nor shall I be when, a little later, I 

 shall drowsily retire to my own repose. And yet it 

 is the common experience for people to be startled 

 and saddened by the first full conviction that they 

 are old. It comes like death, suddenly, however 

 ample and oft-repeated the warning. The habit of 

 regarding one's self as young becomes a fixed habit, 

 and it continues till rudely broken by some irresist- 

 ible evidence that it has outlasted its time. But 

 the conviction once admitted to its place, one be- 

 comes accustomed to the new situation, and begins 

 to enjoy the prerogatives of old age. There is usu- 

 ally, strange to say, greater confidence in the stabil- 

 ity and security of life than when young. This 

 comes of experience. The aging person has seen 

 so many around him die — his kindred passing away 

 one by one, his old acquaintances going or gone — 

 that he unconsciously loses the instinctive sense of 

 personal danger. He acquires a feeling of exemp- 



