The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1854-06-15
For tho National Era.
THE sTcRY OF CONSERVATIVE.
BY LYDIA A. CALDWELL.


blue of the sky aud the deeper blue Of the hills
meet and touch each other. Where it was,
cannot exactly tell; but at all events, it was
very far from here. "Bnt," you ask, "what
was his name?" As for me, cannot tell A
wind in the woods, the other day, said that his
name was Conservative. Ii may be we will
call him 30. He was of q very largs family ;
he had many brothers and sisters. He was of
very high family, toe, and boasted much Of
the arc blood of his veins, though it is whis-
pered this, alsc, is upon the authority of the
traced back to an old gardener, who once lost
his place for some petty peccsdillo.
| 1t was beautiful country where Conserva-
/ tism dwelt. In the spring time, the hills and
woods and meadow lands were green ns green
| could DO; and among the deep, sweet grass
were sprinkled violets and golden hearted dali
sizes 80 thick that your lightest step must needs
scent the air sweet with their delicate odor.
! The foe, tangled roots, deep down in the
earth's brown BOSOM felt warm thrill when
the sunlight of April lay among the grass above,
and shot up small buds that unfoided delicate
blue and pink blooms, which grew to new
and dearer beauty every day.
There were great many winds, various and
sweet-t0ned that told tales all the day long
| esch one of which was new and more wonder
| ful than any that they had ever told before.
| And there wcro thousands Of birds-birds that
built their nests in ell the trees, and that had
new songs every morning, and sang from dawn
till dusk and there were somo that even sang
deep into the night And what was said in
these songs no man gould ever guess, only that
they were the OVERLOOKING of q never ending
and ever-increasing delight.
There were streams that vatered this ccun-
try; brooks, sweet voiced and garrulous, that
were always babbling their happiness and
wonder, as they flowed through the greenness
of this delicious region, to river which wGs
far away; and this river caught them up in
its widespread arms and bore them on with
deep aad solemn sound, TO great sea, deeper
than any man could guess, much less measure.
But Conservative was not happy in this
beautiful land, for he was half blind, and with
ALL somewhat deaf The mingled voices of
birds and brooks and winds, and added to
these the sound of that far-of, mysterious sea,
which seemed gathering every thing to itself-ail
these troubled and confused him. All day
long, the clouds, purple, and gold, and blue,
brilliant and swift-hke, wondrous and strange
dyed birds, fitted across tho upper deep; and
they oppressed him with sense of change
and mutability.
The tree sprouted its pale foliage, and wrap
ped it about it like a veil of delicate green.
Anon it deepcned to richer hue, and spread
the full perfection Of it's leaf, AID, putting or,
fold after fold, Its greenness, hid among its
branches small, delicate buds. Later, these
burst into fl overs, and the tree grow " bite with
bloom and later STILL the blossom ripened to
the fruit. Then there came change The
clusters large and sweet fell, es also fell the
leaves, pale and sick, into the lsp of the amor
Gus earth, until the tree stood naked and for
lOrn It's unclad branches beating each the other
with mournful sound
Conservative grew sad 10 see it. "Whcrefore
o tree do you thus chapgc?" he said
Wherefore Why would you not wear your
spring garments forever - A wind among
the branches made answer TO him, but he only
half heard it; it only seemed to him as q sor-
rowful sound, lone Of many which made life
bitter and terrible
And as Conservative thought of it, mourn
fully, he noticed flower, which, having bloom
ed its time end perfected its seed was with
or;ng
"And you, too, flower! !" he said, "why
wcro you not content to be bud, that you
should unfold yoar heart to the sun, that he
might wither yoa !"
Then tire flower replied, very softly, Il
Were it we'll to be always O. bud, think
you1 Is it not the beautiful order of Nature,
that zach individual life ehould strive to creep
up into higher?"
There is no beauty so fair, bat there is one
divincr; there is no hope 20 high, but there is
one above it. Through all the world do we
not go from the Here unto the fairer Beyond
From my dust viii be moulded q higher tyre
Of beauty, and from my breath DO distilled a
moro exquisite odor. am not lost" b.
Bat Conservative heard none Of this; the
flower spoke too softly. But while the flower
was yet speaking, brook came to his feet, and
es it came it leaped up and laughed. 1t was
silvery, sweet, musical laugh, and SO liquid
that it would have flowed through any other
heart than Conservatives, and watercd it with
its gladness, as it had watered ths fields and
meadows, leaving green membranes all
along its way.
But it made Conservative angry. "Why are
yan hero 2" said he "Why are you career
ing through tie world in this tiTsy manner
Why are you swimming away from home Is
it well that you should go away, to be drunk
up by that great hungry sea, which never wea-
RIGS or is atisfied, and on whose yastpess the
wrecks and the dead DRIFT and blacken, years
and wears, aud are never seen nor heard of
morei
Goa" nc groaned ~ am weary OF this con-
tinual change and unrest. Will the weird
never be at peace, but forever upheavo thus, -
if its frmes: base were this. same deceitful
sea J" i
He said this in anger yet his passion was
so strange and sad, that the brook took a more
serious tone rs it answered him. But still the
waters smiled, and, as they went flowed into
rhyme, so sweet that no human tongue could
mimic them but az near as one might guess
their meaning, it was this awe, we are the
waters end il is our nature that We 90 about
forever, searching for some beautiful end. We
90 around the earth, and compass it; and We
laugh as our shining arms embrace its bare,
brown bosom and through its countless arte-
ries we throb g warm and loving life. Bot,
wherever We 60 we are seeking this beautiful
end whether we go down into the earth's deep
bosom, or whether, climbing slently the invis.
ihle, aerial stairs, We go no on high and span
the heavens in che msny-dyed a-ch. We never
rest; 20, nor ever will until VIC find it; yet VIC
are nos weary. We delye the earth AMI Climb
the sky, yet we do not tire; for, whether We
float in the clouds or water the coral beds still
We are approaching this same far end" Then,
as the waters Of the brook widened into the
BROADER stream, they took deeper tone as
they said Yet we, the waters, are a type Of
man. His life is enc long search for diyiner
Good. 1t calls hirn from afar, from mountain