203. What _are_ we good for? Are even our machines of destruction useful to us? Do they give us real power? Once, indeed, not like halcyons, but like sea-eagles, we had our homes upon the sea; fearless alike of storm or enemy, winged like the wave petrel; and as Arabs of an indeed pathless desert, we dwelt in the presence of all our brethren. Our pride is fallen; no reed shaken with the wind, near the little singing halcyon's nest, is more tremulous than we are now; though we have built iron nests on the sea, with walls impregnable. We have lost our pride--but have we gained peace? Do we even care to seek it, how much less strive to make it? 204. Have you ever thought seriously of the meaning of that blessing given to the peace-makers? People are always expecting to get peace in heaven; but you know whatever peace they get there will be ready made. Whatever making of peace _they_ can be blest for, must be on the earth here: not the taking of arms against, but the building of nests amidst, its "sea of troubles." Difficult enough, you think? Perhaps so, but I do not see that any of us try. We complain of the want of many things--we want votes, we want liberty, we want amusement, we want money. Which of us feels, or knows, that he wants peace? 205. There are two ways of getting it, if you do want it. The first is wholly in your own power; to make yourselves nests of pleasant thoughts. Those are nests on the sea indeed, but safe beyond all others; only they need much art in the building. None of us yet know, for none of us have yet been taught in early youth, what fairy palaces we may build of beautiful thought--proof against all adversity. Bright fancies, satisfied memories, noble histories, faithful sayings, treasure-houses of precious and restful thoughts, which care cannot disturb, nor pain make gloomy, nor poverty take away from us--houses built without hands, for our souls to live in.