e basis of all good results were laid. Once permanent,
you do not quarrel with the first difficulty on your path, and quit it
in weak disgust; you reflect that it cannot be quitted, that it must
be conquered, a wise arrangement fallen on with regard to it. Ye
foolish Wedded Two, who have quarrelled, between whom the Evil Spirit
has stirred-up transient strife and bitterness, so that
'incompatibility' seems almost nigh, ye are nevertheless the Two who,
by long habit, were it by nothing more, do best of all others suit
each other: it is expedient for your own two foolish selves, to say
nothing of the infants, pedigrees and public in general, that ye agree
again; that ye put away the Evil Spirit, and wisely on both hands
struggle for the guidance of a Good Spirit!

The very horse that is permanent, how much kindlier do his rider and
he work, than the temporary one, hired on any hack principle yet
known! I am for permanence in all things, at the earliest possible
moment, and to the latest possible. Blessed is he that continueth
where he is. Here let us rest, and lay-out seedfields; here let us
learn to dwell. Here, even here, the orchards that we plant will yield
us fruit; the acorns will be wood and pleasant umbrage, if we wait.
How much grows everywhere, if we do but wait! Through the swamps we
will shape causeways, force purifying drains; we will learn to thread
the rocky inaccessibilities; and beaten tracks, worn smooth by mere
travelling of human feet, will form themselves. Not a difficulty but
can transfigure itself into a triumph; not even a deformity but, if
our own soul have imprinted worth on it, will grow dear to us. The
sunny plains and deep indigo transparent skies of Italy are all
indifferent to the great sick heart of a Sir Walter Scott: on the back
of the Apennines, in wild spring weather, the sight of bleak Scotch
firs, and snow-spotted heath and desolation, brings tears into his
eyes.[30]

O unwise mortals that forever change and shift, and say, Yonder, not
Here! Wealth richer than both the Indies lies everywhere for man, if
he will endure. Not his oaks only and his fruit-trees, his very heart
roots itself wherever he will abide;--roots itself, draws nourishment
from the deep fountains of Universal Being! Vagrant Sam-Slicks, who
rove over the Earth doing 'strokes of trade,' what wealth have they?
Horseloads, shiploads of white or yellow metal: in very sooth, what
_are_ these? Slick rests nowhere, he is h