"Conservation means the saving from destructive change the good we
already possess," which seems to be a perfectly worthy ambition for
any one to entertain.

For many people, changes have in them an element of wickedness and
danger. I once knew a little girl who wore a sunbonnet all summer and
a hood all winter, and cried one whole day each spring and fall when
she had to make the change; for changes to her were fearsome things.

This antagonism to change has delayed the progress of the world and
kept back many a needed reform, for people have grown to think that
whatever is must be right, and indeed have made a virtue of this
belief.

"It was good enough for my father and it is good enough for me," cries
many a good tory (small _t_, please), thinking that by this utterance
he convinces an admiring world that all his folks have been
exceedingly fine people for generations.

But changes are inevitable. What is true to-day may not be true
to-morrow. All our opinions should be marked, "Subject to change
without notice." We cannot all indulge ourselves in the complacency of
the maiden lady who gave her age year after year as twenty-seven,
because she said she was not one of these flighty things who say "one
thing to-day and something else to-morrow."

Life is change. Only dead things remain as they are. Every living
thing feels the winds of the world blowing over it, beating and
buffeting it, marking and bleaching it. Change is a characteristic of
life, and we must reckon on it! Progress is Life's first law! In order