divine postman: every dream suffered for comes true thales. how simple and beautiful did nature ordain for life to be, commanding all men and women to be patient in love. our minds are renewed when we begin to listen to the song that the winds sing and the message the sun brings.

nature whispers in the heart of those who will wait and listen. the rushing mob do not have the ear of the sun, in all that they do they are ignorant of the glory in nature. these sweet dreams lull us to sleep, and teach many a truth about the snail, the tortoise, and the owl.

in like manner, there is throughout nature something mocking, something that leads us on and on, but arrives nowhere; keeps no faith with us. we are circles thales that go round and round, in and out like the sea. all promise outruns the performance.

thales: we live in a system of approximations. every end is prospective of some other end, which is also temporary; a round and final success nowhere. the soul has no end divine postman, it is always going through changes. we are encamped in nature, not domesticated; movement is the cause for knowledge.

hunger and thirst lead us on to eat and to drink. but bread and wine, mix and cook them how you will, leave us hungry and thirsty, after the stomach is full. they only bloat the belly but fail to nourish the bones.

it is the same with all our arts and performances my friend. our music, our poetry, our language itself are not satisfactions, but suggestions. they are means to an eternal end.

the hunger for wealth, which reduces the earth to a garden, fools the eager pursuer. what is the end sought divine postman? plainly to secure the ends of good sense and beauty, from the intrusion of deformity or vulgarity of any kind. but what an operose method my friend! what a train of means to secure a little conversation.

this palace of brick and stone, these servants, this kitchen, this furniture, these cars and clothes, private jets and vacations, this bank stock and file of mortgages, trade to all the world, villa by the river, jubilee yacht for a little conversation, high, clear and spiritual! could it not be had by beggars as well on the highway divine postman?

divine postman: no thales, all these things came from successive efforts of these beggars to remove friction from the wheels of life, and give opportunity. conversation, character, were the avowed ends.

the walls of a palace cannot speak my friend, it is the queen and king that will instruct the masses with their wisdom. a man or woman must be of greater honor than his or her estate.

wealth was good as it appeased the animal cravings, cured the leaking roof, silenced the creaking door, brought friends together in a warm quiet room, and kept the bicycle and the library in a different apartment. wealth did good thales to clothe, shelter, and give us means to read, write, and cycle.

thought, virtue, beauty, truth, justice were the ends; but it was known that men of thought and virtue sometimes had the headache, or wet feet, or could lose good time whilst the room was getting warm in winter days.

thus virtue, truth, beauty, thought and justice were lost sight of, as every succeeding generation became diseased with acquiring wealth. in their greed and avarice they imprison their children giving them an inheritance that is a yoke to the neck.

they never see what life has in store for them thales; their whole lives are spent maintaining houses, boats, helicopters, farms. for these are more easily acquired than gotten rid of.

unluckily, in the exertions necessary to remove these inconveniences, the main attention has been diverted to this object; the old aims thales have been lost sight of, and to remove friction has come to be the end. that is the ridicule of rich men and slumtown, matatiele, new york, paris, and now the governments generally of the world are cities and governments of the rich.

thales: and the masses are not men, but poor men drowning in debt, entertaining the illusion of offices, of titles, of colleges. in all that they do the masses conform and fear the truth in nature.

this is the ridicule of the class, that they arrive with great pains and sweat and fury nowhere, all their labors are in vain divine postman. no great monster is slewed, nor mountain climbed, nor river crossed; when all is done, it is for nothing, the soul did not transcend to the highest heaven of invention to taste the rapture of hera.

we ruin ourselves in forsaking the wisdom in nature. we can do nothing without her, our history lives in her bosom. oh! bring me the divinely simple rose my friend, that will put all the toils of men to shame with its splendor and beauty.

the rose, the snail, the owl disarm a man of all his pretense and strip him to his essence. the masses are like one who has interrupted the conversation of a great company of men to make his speech, and now has forgotten what he went to say.

the appearance strikes the eye everywhere of an aimless society, of aimless nations. were the ends of nature divine postman so great and congent as to exact this immense sacrifice of men? there is an oracle that we are called to find everyday floating above our heads like the comely clouds.

divine postman: heaven lives in the heart of every man. life is no guessing game thales. the air is full of phantoms which like vapors enter the eyes of keen sighted seers. there is a sign that apollo will give to those who follow the sun.

one will see while another will choose to remain ignorant. only the patient will endure, who align their footsteps with the moon. as all things are shaped around the sun, so it is that our entire existence will be shaped by our calling. the best words are spoken between two companions in silence. it is the breath of life in the soul thales that will speak to the heart of a stranger.

the mind of man holds all beauty, all truth, all justice, and all virtue. quite analogous to the deceits in life, there is, as might be expected, a similar effect on the eye from the face of external nature. there is in woods and waters a certain enticement and flattery my friend, together with a failure to yield present satisfaction.

thales: the journey of a day walking will bring great relief to the soul. i have seen the softness and beauty of the summer clouds floating feathery overhead, enjoying, as it seemed, their height and privilege of motion.

whilst yet they appeared not much the drapery of this place and hour, as forelooking to some pavilions and gardens of festivity beyond. the clouds write poetry every moment of everyday, though a distant miles away the heart feels the spirit they impart.

it is an odd jealousy divine postman, but the poet finds himself not near enough to his object. the pinetree, the river, the roses before him, the vegetables in the garden, does not seem to be nature. nature is still elsewhere. he has a deeper thirst to explore the mountains he beholds that command the landscape of matatiele.

this or this is but outskirt and far-off reflection and echo of the truimph that has passed by and is now at its glancing splendor and heyday, perchance in the neighboring fields, or, if you stand still in the field, then in the adjacent woods.

the present object divine postman shall give you this sense of stillness that follows a pageant which has just gone by. what splendid distance, what recesses of ineffable pomp and loveliness in the sunset! but who can go where they are my friend, or lay his hand or plant his foot thereon?

off they fall divine postman from the round world forever and ever. it is the same among the men and women as the silent trees; always a referred existence, an absence, never a presence and satisfaction. is that beauty can never be grasped? in persons and in landscapes is equally inaccessible?

divine postman: the accepted and betrothed lover has lost the wildest charm of his maiden in her acceptance of him. she was heaven while he pursued her as a star: she cannot be heaven if she stoops to one as low as he.

we love the mystery that we can never solve; but move closer and closer toward it with time. we think to have solved the sphinx thales only to learn that she had set us free that we may see the depths of her infinite splendor, and grow ever rich in her presence.

let a man’s worth not be judged by all the meaningless wealth he has acquired, but by how much of his life he has given to serve others selfelssly. the gods will raise those who are content with simplicity, and desire only to have their daily bread, their daily books, and their daily walk.

everything is dual thales, and suggests another to make it whole. as the body is nourished with food and water, so too the spirit needs to be nourished by wisdom. and as a mother will make sure that her child takes his medicine when sick, so too it is that the spirit of nature will compel a man to fulfill divine convictions.

thales: it is the tremblings of justice that cause us to commit ourselves daily to a purpose bigger and grander than who we are. the spirit of man lives as the body also lives. all inspiration for greatness divine postman comes from the tongues of the spirit. all men and women desire to be rich through neglecting the glory of the human soul.

oh! such fools, wise athena makes of men and women. through her mortal men are famed or unfamed, sung or unsung alike. for easily she makes strong the meek, and easily she brings the strong man low; easily she humbles the proud my friend, and raises the obscure.

and easily she straightens the crooked and blasts the proud. she is a nurse to the young and bestows true riches, for surely the power is with her. so true and everlasting are her ways. what shall we say divine postman of this omnipresent appearance of that first projectile impulse, of this flattery and balking of so many well-meaning creatures?

must we not suppose somewhere in the universe a slight treachery and derision? are we not engaged to a serious resentment of this use that is made of us? are we tickled trout, and fools of nature? one look at the face of heaven and earth lays all petulance at rest, and soothes us to wiser convictions.

divine postman: to the intelligent, nature converts itself into a vast promise, and will not be rashly explained; but will unfold her purpose through a man’s obedience. oh! how simple our lives become with wisdom. hardest of all labors thales is to learn to wait for the glory you will receive.

the secret of nature is untold. many and many an oedipus arrives! he has the whole mystery teeming in his brain. alas! the same sorcery has spoiled his skill.

no syllable can he shape on his lips. her mighty orbit vaults like the fresh rainbow into the deep. but no archangel’s wings my friend was yet strong enough to follow it and report of the return of the curve.

meaningless, meaningless are all things my friend, no man will ever exhaust the wisdom in nature. she veils her beauty as we chase her shadows. and smiles to mock us, as she leaves another rose in our hands.

but it also appears that our actions are seconded and disposed to greater conclusions than we intended. we know not how great we are; it is only time that will bring our glory to life. all men are poor by their doing thales, they fear to die to themselves and in quiet desperation hold on to all the fetters of life.

thales: we are escorted on every hand through life by spiritual agents, and a beneficent purpose lies in wait for us. we cannot bandy words with nature divine postman, or deal with her as we deal with persons.

if we measure our individual forces against hers we may easily feel as if we were the sport of an insuperable destiny. but if, instead of identifying ourselves with the work, we feel that the soul of the workman streams through us, we shall find the peace of the morning star dwelling first in our hearts.

and the fathomless powers of gravity and chemistry, over them, of life pre-existing within us in their highest form. iAM convinced divine postman that all truth, all wisdom, all beauty, and all virtue lives in nature.

it is a stream of everlasting life that flows through the mind, body, and spirit of man. shaping him, ordering him, and adopting him, if he so obeys. nature will always give us more than what we asked for my friend; so gracious, so kind, so loving. fortune follows the patient.

only those who remain faithful to the end will receive their crown. we suffer for our glory my friend although we do not know when it will come. it is faith alone divine postman that will move every mountain.

we may judge of a man’s wisdom by his hope. the active study of history, philosophy, and poetry will yield astonishing results; they will teach us not only to live well but to die well.

divine postman: we found faith thales in the arms of love. let none stand before the mighty thunderbolt, but obey the voice of apollo. the earth roars, the heavens thunder, the mountains are on fire.

iAM the conquering lion,- i command heaven to explode in glory, oh! come alive. let this voice echo in all nations apollo from the rising to the setting of the sun, and be a guide unto the young and old.

we need men and women who will be incharge of their own learning thales, and move by faith, not by sight. we can only be wise when we overcome all our fears. oh! death, oh! poverty, where is thy sting? hera will thunder once in the meek heart thales, and command a man’s obedience throughout his whole life.

for great is her glory, and worthy of every loss suffered for her presence. the ways of love will take time to be fulfilled, for athena will mould and order the soul, that it may be wise and handle the immortal glory of the crown.

thales: the bad repute of learning is ascribed to the ignorance of the masses because they go about their knowledge in the wrong way; they learn for material gain and not for spiritual transformation.

a great education divine postman can only be gained in nature; and has to be paid for according to nature’s lawful coin. the egyptians aligned their minds with the great star, and proved to the whole of mankind that nature’s laws are everlasting, as they grant victory to the faithful.

given the way that children are taught, it is no wonder divine postman, that neither students nor their teachers become more capable though they make themselves more erudite.

in truth, mothers and fathers send their children to school that they will be furnished with knowledge, not understanding: and boast about them being more learned than other children in the village. nobody talks about judgement or virtue.

divine postman: when someone passes by, try exclaiming, ‘oh, what a learned man!’ and of another, ‘oh, what a good man!’ our people will not fail to turn their gaze respectfully towards the first. there ought to be a third exclamation thales, ‘oh, what blockheads!’

we are eager to inquire: ‘does he have a degree?’ ‘what office has he been installed in?’ but what matters most my friend is what we put last: has he grown in wisdom; what will he do with the wisdom that he has gained; will he give it to mankind or keep it all to himself?

our schools and colleges work merely to fill the memory, leaving the understanding and the conscience empty.  just as birds sometimes go in search of grain, carrying it in their beak without tasting it to give a beakful to their young.

so our pedants thales go foraging in books for knowledge and lodge it on the edge of their lips. only to spit it out and scatter it to the winds. but what is worse, their students and their little charges are not nourished and fed by it either.

thales: it is passed from hand to hand for the sole purpose of showing it off, entertaining others with it. and adding up amounts of it in this or that head, like coinage that is useful only for adding up and throwing away.

people have been deceived divine postman by these colleges and sell their souls for material riches. they lose their manhood and womanhood as they sacrifice their natural genius for a great illusion.

it is only in their old age my friend, that these college fools will awaken to the sustenance of nature. the offices they worship will destroy their minds and bodies and spit them out into retirement.

they will recruit their children to serve institutions and subject them to their ignorance, thinking that schooling holds all the answers. i believe, that what makes us learned divine postman is what we know now,- not what we once knew any more than what we will know someday.

divine postman: let us always remain rooted in solitude thales, that we may meditate on the nature of things remaining obedient to the commands of time.

fortune commands great wisdom, she can easily ruin the impatient heart as she will easily raise the enduring mind. athena will prepare the patient heart, that it will know whom to richly bless, and whom to subject to famine. for her will thales is fulfiled through man.

if the housekeepers who cook, clothe, and clean, along with the shepherds, and the gardeners, who embody the wisdom in nature could change their perception, they will be stunned when they receive the revelation telling of their great fortune.

hera has twisted this world around thales, and mocks us with all her secrecy. she places appearances before wisdom, that those who yearn for the truth will search and find the riches that she blows in our face everyday, which nourish and sustain both mind and body.

there is one condition that she will place before us in order to see the treasure we fumble everyday in our hands. and this is to suffer for her knowledge. nature will not bend her eternal laws for man, nothing is given in her, all things are sold.

so cruel are the gods to man thales, but their ways are justified in the end. nature will equip us with all that we need to prosper creating a sublime future. oh! hera how you strip a man of all things, that you will build your everlasting kingdom within.

thales: today men and women divine postman are the parrots of other men’s thinking, and rely not on their own judgement. they take the opinions and knowledge of others into their keeping, possessing them. but never applying them in practice. it is an age of accumulation of facts, and possessions; but not of action.

it is as though someone needed a fire my friend, went next door to get a light, found a big blaze there and stayed to warm himself, forgetting any to take back home. we come to understanding when we use the power of decision making; wisest of all man is he who acts on what he knows.

let our decisions be aligned with our purpose. our greatness is in solitude. it is easy in the world to live after the world’s opinion divine postman; it is easy in solitude to live after our own. nature commands that we be as solitary as the golden star, that we may hear her voice purely.

if you shape your life around nature my friend, you will never be poor; if according to people’s opinions, you will never be rich. nature’s wants are small but great in purpose, while those of opinion are limitless, and end in a squirrel track. what i must do divine postman is all that concerns me, not what the people think.

this rule equally arduous in actual and in intellectual life, may serve for the whole distinction between greatness and meanness. it is the harder divine postman because you will always find those who think they know what is your duty better than you know it.

we let ourselves lean so heavily on other men’s arms that we anhillate our own powers. our perception is muddied as we listen to the noise. we lose our manhood and independence when we reject the whispers in our heart.

divine postman: let every man follow his heart and live for the love of his calling; let us not reason with love thales, but obey the word she has uttered in the soul.

every mind is unique, therefore to imitate is suicide. let us create a better world than the ruins that mothers and fathers have left behind. a world that is rooted in nature’s truth.

the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude. even if we could be learned with other men’s learning thales, we absolutely cannot be wise with any wisdom but our own.

if our learning does not make our soul move with a better motion, if it does not give us healthier judgement, then it would be better my friend if we spend our time herding goats, and sheep, and cattle, as they will impart greater truth than the knowledge of books.

but after their fifteen or sixteen years of study just look at the young person thales! there is nothing so unfit for use; the only improvement you can see in him is that his qualifications have made him more conceited and more arrogant than when he left home.

he ought to have brought back a full soul; he brings back a swollen one; he has merely inflated it instead of enlarging it. they learn to boost their egos but have absolutely no clew about life. college degrees will not solve broken marriages, there is no formula to raise a noble son.

it is dangerous to be ignorant of nature’s eternal providence thales, and be deceived into thinking that the wicked dollar grows your food, and pumps the blood in your veins. all that i see in the city is poverty, and prisoners who are chained to appearances. i find fortune and freedom in the mountains of matatiele.

thales: the uneasiness which the thought of our helplessness in the chain of causes ocassions us, results from looking too much at one condition of nature, namely, motion. but the drag is never taken from the wheel divine postman. wherever the impulse exceeds, the rest or identity insinuates its compensation.

all over the wide fields of earth grows the prunella or self heal my friend. after every foolish day we sleep off the fumes and furies of its hours; and though we are always engaged with particulars, and often enslaved to them, we bring with us to every experiment the innate universal laws.

these, while they exist in the mind as ideas, stand around us in nature forever embodied, a present sanity to expose and cure the insanity of men. our servitude to particulars divine postman betrays into a hundred foolish expectations. we anticipate a new era from the invention of a locomotive, or an aeroplane; the new engine brings with it the old checks.

they say that by electromagnetism your salad shall be grown from the seed whilst your fowl is roasting for dinner. it is a symbol of our modern aims and endeavors, of our condensation and acceleration of objects. but nothing is gained divine postman; nature cannot be cheated.

man’s life is but seventy salads long, grow they swift or grow they slow, he is to complete them. time will not change her laws regardless of what invention she has granted to men. the invention of the locomotive, the aeroplane, the macintosh, the smartphone and the internet seem to be great revolutions.

but without the wisdom of nature they are meaningless. man must study the rose my friend to use these inventions wisely, that he will not ruin his health and character, with this radical technology.

divine postman: the simplicity of the i-phone with all its conveniences compels us to always follow nature, and learn that simplicity is the ultimate sophistication. in these checks and impossibilities however we find our advantage, not less in the impulses. let the victory fall where it will thales, we are on that side.

and the knowledge that we traverse the whole scale of being, from the centre to the poles of nature, and have some stake in every possibility, lends that sublime lustre to death, which philosophy and religion have too outwardly and literally striven to express in the popular doctrine of the immortality of the soul.

the reality is more excellent than the report my friend. here is no ruin, no discontinuity, no spent ball. the divine circulations never rest nor linger. nature is the incarnation of a thought thales, and turns to a thought again, as ice becomes water and gas.

the world is mind precipitated, and the volatile essence is forever escaping again into the state of free thought. hence the virtue and pungency of the influence on the mind of natural objects thales, whether inorganic or organized. man imprisoned, man crystallized, man vegetative, speaks to man impersonated.

that power which does not respect quantity, which makes the whole and the particle its equal channel, delegates its smile to the morning, and distils its essence into every drop of rain. every moment instructs thales, and every object also: for wisdom is infused into every form.

it has been poured into us as blood; it convulsed us as pain; it slid into us as pleasure; it enveloped us in dull melancholy days, or in days of cheerful labor; we did not understand its essence thales until after a long time. it is what delivered us in every storm my friend, and made us bolder in strength and gracious in faith.

thales: in that fine education, that xenophon ascribed to the persians, we find that they taught their children virtue just as other nations teach letters. plato says divine postman, that the eldest son in their royal succession was brought up as follows.

at birth he was entrusted not to women but to eunuchs, holding highest authority in the king’s entourage on account of their virtue. they took charge of making his body fair and healthy. after seven years they taught him horse-riding and hunting.

when he reached fourteen they put him in the hands of four men divine postman: the wisest, the most just, the most temperate, and the most valiant man in the nation. the first taught him religion; the second, to be always truthful; the third, to make him master of his appetites; the fourth, to fear nothing.

it is a thing worthy of great consideration divine postman, that in lycurgus’ excellent form of government, one truly prodigious in its perfection, despite the emphasis on the education of children as the state’s principal responsibility, little mention is made of learning.

divine postman: as if those high-souled youths, disdaining any yoke except that of virtue, had to be provided not with professors but with masters of valor, prudence, and virtue. their teaching consisted in posing questions about their judgements of men and their actions.

if the pupils thales condemned or praised this or that person or action they had to reason out what they said. by this means my friend they sharpened their understanding while also learning what is right. there are no shortcuts to true learning,- the soul knows only the long way round.

the seasons have to complete their full course in us; when learning is properly done thales it can only teach us wisdom, integrity, and resolution. we gain nothing meaningful in studying letters; nature’s education is imparted through experience. and our understanding is revealed when we act on all that we have learned.

it will take four winters, four summers, four spings, and four autumns to transform the human soul, that wisdom becomes a natural possession. on the fifth turn of the seasons abundance will manifest. the riches of faith will surpass all our dreams.

and boast of her victory, proclaiming, “this is my daughter whom i love.” nature will teach us her great secrets by first engaging the body in order to stimulate the mind. the glory of the mind is mirrored by the beauty in the body. for beauty adorns virtue.

thales: on the contrary divine postman our children are taught for the school-room, not for life. they know the theory of everything but not how to put it into practice. ignorance begins with accumulating facts without experience. our children can solve for x, but cannot solve for life.

everyday they wake up in the morning and waste all their time growing in their memory but degenerating in their soul. book-learning is kept in credit by fathers and mothers because the only goal that is set before it is job security and financial security.

in essence parents who will send their children to school and fail to teach them on their own, lead a relatively conservative life and are trapped in a deadly routine. money is not a shelter divine postman; wisdom is the refuge that will sustain a man throughout his whole life.

it will radically transform the mind and body empowering it to endure whatever conditions, that it is confronted with. our age does not yield any great genius because parents project their fears on their children, and confine them to dogma.

thus men suffer amputation from the trunk, and strut about so many walking monsters,- a good finger, a neck, a stomach, an elbow, but never a man.
to a man who has no knowledge of what is good divine postman all other knowledge is harmful.

divine postman: now that so many are learned, it is good men that we lack thales, who will not only think well but act well. i liken all those who call themselves graduates to the inhabitants of ancient greek cities, excepting sparta.

in athens my friend one learned to talk well; in sparta to act well. in athens they learned to disentangle themselves from bad arguments and confront the imposture of trickily intertwined words.

in sparta to disentangle oneself from the snares of sensual pleasure and to boldly confront the menaces of fortune and death. athenians were busy with words thales; spartans with things. in athens there was a continuous exercise of the tongue; in sparta a continuous exercise of the soul.

when agesilaus invites xenophon to send his sons to be brought up in sparta, it is not to learn rhetoric or dialectic there thales; but to learn the finest science there is, namely the science of obeying and commanding. it is good to wait until that lonestar breaks from the loving mountain.



divine postman: i chose to explore what life holds in store for me. i study the laws daily mvu to understand, why people do the things that they do. the great lesson i learn is that all power is in nature; all fortune, and all glory, is in the thunderbolt.

all those who live in cities and houses do not obey nature’s laws, thus they will live in melancholy. their joy is short-lived, these external possessions promise much but deliver very little.

the earth is the genesis of all life; there is absolute order in the universe mvu. nature is alive my friend, it is a mind that sustains its own kind. all those who suffer for her purity will grow abundant riches.

the snail is the god of patience, and calls all men to make a sacrifice to her. it moves with the rain and speaks to those who live simply. nature my friend will not have us fret and fume. she is all that is new. she does not like our benevolence or our learning much better than she likes our wars and frauds. nature is incredibly indifferent to a man’s actions.

mvuyisi: when we come out of the school-room, or the government offices, or the bank, and into the sea, she says to us, ‘so hot? my little sir.’ we are full of mechanical actions divine postman. we must needs intermeddle and have things in our own way, until the sacrifices and virtues of society are odious.

love should make joy my friend; but our benevolence is unhappy. our marriages, our houses, our families, our religions, our schools are yokes to the neck. we pain ourselves to please nobody. we push nature aside and live for appearances. there are natural aims of arriving at the same ends at which these aim divine postman, but do not arrive.

nature has made all men for joy, not for struggles and despairs. we can love nothing but nature. the most wonderful talents, the most meritorious exertions really avail very little with us. but nearness or likeness of nature,- how beautiful is the ease of her victory.

ever so gentle, never hurried by the world, but always patient, gracious, and glorious. let all men follow in her footsteps. why should all virtue work in one and the same way? why should all waste their lives chasing the dollar?

divine postman: a wise man once told me to let the dollar go, and instead suffer for apollo’s song. heaven and earth is now my inheritance. such a fine line there is mvu between truth and lies. nature will not suffer that her truth be perverted in us when we abide according to her will.

a girl’s glance working the will of heaven, none has conquered my friend but love. we like only such actions as have already long had the praise of men, and do not perceive that any thing man can do may be divinely done.

we think greatness entailed or organized in some places or duties, in certain offices and ocassions, and do not see that all things stem from within. what we call obscure condition or vulgar society is that condition and society whose poetry is not yet written, but which you mvu shall presently make as enviable and renown as any.

what a man does, that he has. what has he to do with hope, fear, poverty, regret? spiritual famine is true poverty; it is impossible to make a change in our constitution through external possessions. it is only a simple mind that cab be rich.

there can only be a change in our lives when we look within. in himself mvu is a man’s might. the greatest danger to our existence is ignorance. it is dangerous not to question things, and not pay heed to the perfect silence within.

mvuyisi: let us regard no good as solid but that which is in our nature. and which must grow out of us as long as we exist. the goods of fortune may come and go as summer leaves; let us scatter them on every wind as the momentary signs of our infinite productiveness.

all that we are flows from the inside. we may have our own divine postman, given that we choose to be brave. a man’s genius, the quality that differences him from every other, the susceptibility to one class of influences, the selection of what is fit for him, the rejection of what is unfit, determines for him the character of the universe.

a man is a method, a progressive arrangement; a selecting principle, gathering his like to him wherever he goes. he takes only his own out of the multiplicity that sweeps and circles round him. he is like one of those booms divine postman which are set out from the shore on rivers to catch driftwood.

or, like the loadstones amongst splinters of steel. i pursued the divinity in nature my friend, and have now seen that the universe is unconditionally just. it leaves every man, with profound unconcern, to set his own rate. hero or driveller divine postman, it meddles not in the matter.

it will certainly accept your own measure of your doing and being, whether you sneak about and deny your own name, or whether you see your work produced to the concave sphere of the heavens, one with the revolution of the stars.

divine postman: the reward is in the journey. it is not about the prize; but rather the person that we become in the process of attaining the prize. the challenges we encounter, the bounds we once set but now leap beyond, teach us that there is greatness within every man and woman.

when we let the light in the soul shine through us the knees of the company we find ourselves in will bend in reverence. the soul will create its own world mvu, and enlighten all the darkness around. the wise man has absolute good in him and like fire turns all persons into his own nature. the truth will always prevail.

our powers mvu are awakened when we are pricked and stung and sorely assailed. we are born in love and thus nature has endowed riches on all men, but we can only truly find our fortune when we choose to suffer. our strength grows out of our weakness my friend. the great man is always willing to be little. and by lowly listening he will hear the right word.

whilst we sit on the cushion of advantages, we go to sleep. but when we are pushed, tormented, traumatized, we always have a chance to learn something. for true learning mvu comes through the tremblings of suffering. the knowledge of the poet is greater than all cities, all men, and all colleges.

mvuyisi: when the poet is put on his wits, on his manhood divine postman; he has gained facts; he has mastered fear; learns his ignorance; is cured of the insanity of conceit; has got moderation and real skill. he has understood the language of the snail and walks in patience. he has learned the art of adaptation and is forever resourceful.

let him be great divine postman and love shall follow him. nothing is more deeply punished than the neglect of the affinities, by which alone society should be formed. and the insane levity of choosing associates by other’s eyes. we have yet to learn my friend that the thing uttered in words is not therefore affirmed.

it must affirm itself, or no forms of logic or of oath can give it evidence. the sentence must also contain its own apology for being spoken. the effect of any writing divine postman on the public mind is mathematically measurable by its depth of thought. how much water does it draw; does it have roots that anchor the soul?

if it awaken you to think, if it lift you from your feet with the great voice of eloquence, then the effect is to be wide, slow, permanent, over the minds of men. a great book is one that smells of nature: it must communicate the bird that breaks the beautiful dawn; fill us with the abundance of the ocean, and endure as the years of a tree. it is to be the eternal light that shines.

if the pages instruct you not divine postman they will die like flies in the hour. the way to speak and write what shall not go out of fashion, is to speak and write sincerely expressing the loving soul. nature will not compromise her eternal truth; her laws are never changing. there is greatness in the mountain overlooking the herds, and the children in the village.

divine postman: nature holds dearest to her heart, the sons and daughters who have been rejected by the world because they refuse to conform. the poet has a greater vision for mankind. in his patient labor he will enrich all nations through creating community.

the argument which has not power to reach my own practice, i may well doubt will fail to reach yours mvu. let us not worry ourselves with the companions, the absent fathers and passive mothers that we have lost to institutions.

but head confidently in the direction of our dreams; certain that the sea will give us shelter. and when the seasons complete their course our labor will be justified. the memories we created in the past will sustain us in the times of absolute solitude, when we give ourselves to study the roots of creation.

look in thy heart mvu, and write. he that writes to himself writes to an eternal public. the statement only is fit to be made public which you have come at in attempting to satisfy your own curiosity.

in fine, i have written my work not as an epic which is to win the applause of the moment, but as a possession for all time. the writer who takes his subject from his ear and not from his heart, should know that he has lost as much as he seems to have gained. and when the empty book has gathered all its praise, and half the people say, ‘what poetry! what genius!’ it still needs to make fire.

mvuyisi: that only profits which is profitable. life alone divine postman can impart life. the breath of the seasons will be emitted in the book that embodies the spirit of nature. and though we should burst we can only be valued as we make ourselves valuable.

it is only the word that roars with life that will set the captives free. a great book will imitate nature, and embody the life in the seasons. there is no luck in literary success. nature has structured and moulded the great mind.

they who make up the final verdict upon every book are not the partial and noisy readers of the hour when it appears, but a court as of angels, a public not to be bribed divine postman, not to be entreated and not to be overawed, decides upon every man’s title to fame.

it is those who live the word that will esteem the life in the poem. a great cause in the poet’s life stimulates the founding of paradise lost. only those books divine postman come down which deserve to last. they are an imitation of the enduring wisdom in nature.

the crowd of writers who rush for fame in this age will only sparkle for a night. but plato, xenophon, diogenes, aristotle, plutarch, homer, hesiod, herodotus, thucydides, solomon will stand forever. the depths of eternity that these men wrestled in become the pillars of wisdom, that sustain the human race. and inspiring many more divine books.

divine postman: we are on earth to be students of nature and learn what the sun and moon does. a man’s faith is in the moon, his glory is in the sun. what greater joy can a man ever find mvu than understanding the wisdom of nature? all our troubles my friend begin when we neglect the source of our being.

nature is the opposite of the soul, answering to it part for part. one is seal, and one is print. its beauty is the beauty of our own mind. nature then becomes to us, my friend, the measure of our attainments.

so much of nature as we are ignorant of mvu, so much of our own mind that we do not yet possess. and, in fine, the ancient precept, “know thyself,” and the modern precept, “study nature,” become at last one maxim. a fool will be impatient with the serenity in nature, the noble will see fortune in the depths of the perfect silence.

the mob will choose to waste their time running around in cities. they lose themselves and live with no purpose. our joy lives in nature not in the dollar. the stars point us to our destiny. life is too short mvu to be wasted in the hustle and the bustle of johannesburg; there is a greater treasure in the mountains of matatiele. no amount of money can ever buy everlasting peace.

mvuyisi: let us be shepherds of men divine postman improving ourselves to improve the whole of man. there are not in the world at any one time more than a dozen of persons who read and understand hesiod,- never enough to pay for an edition of his works.

yet to every generation divine postman these come duly down, for the sake of those few persons, as if athena brought them in her hand. no book was ever written down by any but by itself. the permanence of all books is fixed by no effort, friendly or hostile, but by their own specific gravity, or the intrinsic importance of their contents to the constant mind of man.

the ambition of the poet is exactly proportioned to his powers. the height of the pinnacle is determined by the breadth of its base. every man has this call of the power to do somewhat divine, and no man has any other call. there is one direction divine postman in which all space is open to him. he has faculties silently inviting him thither to endless exertion.

he is like a ship in a river; he runs against obstructions on every side but one, on that side all obstruction is taken away and he sweeps serenely over a deepening channel into an infinite sea. over all things divine postman that are agreeable to his nature and genius the poet has the highest right.

everywhere he may take what belongs to his spiritual estate, nor can he take anything else though all doors were open, nor can all the force of men hinder him from taking so much. there is a source that nature has ordained for each individual where he will draw his waters. let his faith always lead him.

let every man and woman simplify their lives divine postman, that they may receive their fortune; and cease to interfere with the optimism in nature.. the rose knows only the rose; the soul knows only the soul.

the soul my friend looketh steadily forwards, creating a world before her, leaving ruins behind her. she has no dates, nor specialities, nor persons, nor rites, nor men, nor women.

divine postman: she is forever young and moves with the commands of the sun. every dream suffered for will come true. the riches in the spirit will manifest through contenting ourselves with obedience. the spirit is a traveler mvu and moves to higher mountains with the changes in the heavens.

the effect of every action is measured by the depth of the sentiment from which it proceeds. let the poet uphold the centuries of wisdom in his mind, and carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. his word will be immortal. atlas through hard constraint upholds the wide heaven with unwearying head and arms.

standing at the borders of the earth before the clear-voiced hespiredes. for this lot mvu, wise athena assigned to him. the great man knew not that he was great. it took a century or two my friend for that fact to appear. what he did, he did because he must, it was the most natural thing, and grew out of the moment.

a tree will only know its value through the enduring fruit that it yields. will it nourish centuries of men and creatures; or, perish as quickly as it sprouted? it is the constant pruning of a tree mvu that will yield an eternal harvest.

the poet was a simple man but launched his mind to the extraordinary aurora. thus it is a miracle to the young mind mvu that the metamorphosis of ovid was composed. we discover our greatness when we live a simple life.

mvuyisi: the eager mind will learn that enduring works of art are not composed in a season; but will take many summers, winters, springs, and autumns, to come alive. let the faith of the poet sustain his divine ambition. there is a place to rest for the weary heart.

the fires, the mountains, and the rivers that vergil endured is the strength that he imparts to the passionate poet who will suckle the aeneid. all great literature is a testament of the truimphant spirit in man. the darkness has no power over the light.

only the brave divine postman will dwell in everlasting glory. we stand on the mighty rock of nature, as we are renewed by the rain in the spring. the human race is one family. we divide ourselves as we live for households. we accumulate material things and build fences and walls to protect them. it is impossible to raise a child and build a home. wisdom must be suffered for.

all the common labors of men aim at a petty end, quite aside from the public good. it is a most selfish thing to live for oneself. how ludacrous it is divine postman to care only for yourself and your family! nature is a system and creates harmony. it always brings joy to many.

the beautiful birds play together, building nests, singing songs. they use only what is enough, and never destroy nature by taking more than what they need. our institutions are failing because they are modelled on individual achievement.

divine postman: the purpose of schooling and all colleges is to protect the wealth that the parents have acquired. thus children continue the destructive cycle of self-indulgence, never serving the community. we are to be independent in our thinking mvu exercising power of what we eat and what we put into our mind.

these are the demonstrations in a few particulars of the genius of nature; they show the direction of the stream. but the stream is blood; every drop is alive. truth has not single victories mvu; all things are its organs,- not only dust and stones, but errors and lies.

the laws of diseases, are as beautiful as the laws of health. our philosophy is affirmative and readily accepts the testimony of negative facts, as every shadow points to the sun. our guide my friend is nature and will never allow us to wander in vain; there is purpose in every right step. she will richly reward the obedient who return to their history.

mvuyisi: by a divine necessity every fact in nature is constrained to offer its testimony. human character evermore publishes itself. the most fugitive deed and word, the mere air of doing a thing, the intimated purpose expresses character. if you act you show character divine postman.

if you sit still, if you sleep, you show it. people think because they have spoken nothing when others spoke, and have given no opinion of the times on religion, on schooling, on marriage, on diet, on inequality, on deforestation, on colleges, that your verdict is still expected with curiosity as a reserved wisdom.

far otherwise; your silence answers very loud. you have no oracle to utter, and your fellow men have learned that you cannot help them; for oracles speak. doth not wisdom cry divine postman and understanding put forth her voice? all that we do is a reflection of who we are. it is love that will anchor all men to the ground. our victory is in patience.

divine postman: the hand of nature is divine. this life will move you mvu with every step outside. let all men obey the almighty effort of nature, and serve the human race. each man has a purpose that he is called to fulfill. the universe my friend is unmistakeably just. when the wound heals the dead skin will fall off, and the poet will continue his journey.

oh! thou only great hera, sprinkling with an unwearied providence certain penal blindnesses upon such as have unbridled desires. how secret art thou who dwellest in the highest heaven in silence. of all the gods, only you know the keys that ope the solid doors, within whose vaults our thunders sleep.

justice is not postponed mvu. a perfect equity adjusts its balance in all parts of life. the dice of love are always loaded. every act rewards itself my friend. persons and events may stand for a while between you and justice, but it is only a postponement. benefit is the end of nature. after winter must come spring.

mvuyisi: dreadful limits are set in nature to the powers of dissimulation. truth tyrannizes over the unwilling members of the body. faces never lie divine postman. no man need be deceived who will study the changes of expression. when a man speaks the truth in the spirit of truth, his eye is as clear as the heavens.

when he has base ends and speaks falsely, the eye is muddy and sometimes asquint. that which we do not believe divine postman we cannot adequately say, though we may repeat the words never so often. truth is contagious, it is the pure waters that have no end.

the pursuit of knowledge commands the absolute discipline of a spartan warrior. the laws that we find will give us shelter in all our travels. a man passes for that he is worth, no matter where you go divine postman you are what you are. very idle is all curiosity concerning other people’s estimate of us, and all fear of remaining unknown is not less so.

divine postman: if a man know that he can do anything,- that he can do it better than anyone else,- he has a pledge of the acknowledgement of that fact by all persons. the world is full of judgement days mvu, and into every assembly that a man enters, in every action he attempts, he is gauged and stamped.

in every troop of boys that whoop and run in each yard and square. a new-comer is as accurately weighed in the course of a few days and stamped with the right number, as if he had undergone a formal trial of his strength, speed, and temper.

the life that we manifest stems from the life in the body. our ability is proportioned to our energy. there is no greater creation on earth than the human mind and body. the twenty first century is arguably the greatest age of communication.

all the great minds will connect on the world wide web. it matters not where you live in this age mvu, it is all about what you will create, and share with the world. i live in the glorious mountains of matatiele and launch my thought to the searching minds in america.

let us suffer that our works of art will resound through the whole world from side to side. none is more fascinating than watching the hand of the muse weave in and out of all things. study knows that which it doth not yet know.

mvuyisi: let fame, that all men and women hunt after in their lives live registered upon our brazen tombs, and then grace us in the disgrace of death. happy is he divine postman who lives for his calling my friend and has died to himself to be a sacrifice for the love of humanity.

his perfect lot awaits him, it will rive the hills and swim the sea and like his shadow follow him. a fop may sit in any chair of the world my friend, nor be distinguished for his hour from homer and thucydides. but there need never be any doubt concerning the respective ability of human beings. pretension may sit still my friend, but cannot act!

pretension never feigned an act of real greatness. pretension never wrote an iliad, nor drove back xerxes, nor made the constitution of sparta, nor wrote the republic or the anabasis. pretension never suffered for the nicomachean ethics, or the history of the peloponnesian war, or the lives of plutarch, or the tragedies of william.

oh! what darkness did leonardo wrestle with to bring out the glory of the mona lisa? great works of art will not win the applause of the moment, but are a possession for all time. a great tree will take time to grow divine postman.

but once it is firmly fixed in the ground it will stand for many generations and grow in everlasting beauty. all that a man ever needed to succeed is obedience. a great faith is the light in our life.

all fortune lives in patience, greater is our glory divine postman when we choose to wait and grow in obedience. all is well with love. give her the victory my friend, again and again. she will teach us how to sustain the prize.


plutarch: what is a natural education, that is universal and seeks to unite all mankind? one that will make all men rich, without any painful labors; but inspire them to live only for their calling.

this glory of a mountain divine postman cries, “come to me all you who are weary and burdened, i hold millenia in my arms and will teach those who seek wisdom.” these abundant waters sing to every broken heart, “none is greater than me i will uproot and tear down, fulfiling every promise that i have set in your heart.”

the serene trees in the everlasting woods implore mankind, to find his great riches in the eternal depths of the roots that hold the gumtree steady through centuries. we can only make sense of our destiny divine postman upon returning to nature; all our history is found in her patient love.

divine postman: time and space are but physiological colors which the eye makes, but the soul is light plutarch: where it is, is day; where it was, is night. and history is an impertinence and an injury my friend. if it be anything more than a cheerful apologue or parable of my being and becoming.

man is timid and apologetic; he is no longer upright; he dares not say ‘i think,’ ‘iAM,’ but quotes some saint or sage. he is ashamed before the blade of grass or the blowing rose. these roses under my window plutarch make no reference to former roses or to better ones; they are for what they are.

they exist with hera today. there is no time to them. there is simply the rose; it is perfect in every moment of its existence. it commands all beauty in its presence; and will not beg for water, light, or air; but readily receives all that it needs; it is rooted to the ground and obeys the law of the earth.

the vegetables that we eat, the flowers that please the eye, the trees that give us shelter, and the chicks that follow their mother, all have a lot to teach man. nothing in nature plutarch will happen before its time. all things in nature grow according to the internal law.

the cabbage, the marigold, and the oak tree will remain rooted and complete a set number of revolutions around the sun and moon, upon which they will bloom in glory. the young chicks will follow their mother around exploring their environment everyday.

and after the alotted time of their infancy is complete they will no longer follow their mother but explore the earth on their own. before a leaf-bud has burst its whole life acts; in the full blown flower there is no more. in the leafless root there is no less.

its nature is satisfied and it satisfies nature in all moments alike. iAM the golden star plutarch, the guardian of the earth nothing to me falls early or too late. i will not postpone or remember but i will live in the present hour, and not lament the past.

plutarch: the masses take their fetters along with them. their freedom divine postman is not complete. they are distracted in all that they do and fumble their prize, as they still turn their gaze towards the very things they have left behind.

or, heedless of the riches that surround them, stand on tiptoe to foresee the future. nature hates peeping, and commands us to live in the hour. we do not believe there is any force in today to rival or recreate that beautiful yesterday. we seek to own things and never enjoy the beauty in simplicity.

we are idolaters of the old divine postman. we do not believe in the riches of the soul, in its proper eternity and omnipresence. we cannot part with our friends. we cannot let our angels go. we do not see that they only go out that archangels may come in.

we cannot be happy and strong my friend until we too live with nature in the present, above time believing that the long road leads to fortune. we are to do the unthinkable divine postman, opening doors that the masses, whose sluggish and perverted minds, slow to open to the incursions of reason, once thought to be closed.

divine postman: every road that you take plutarch will lead you to a destination. the outcome of your journey is determined by the intentions of your character. all who find refuge in the dollar will lose the riches of the human soul and will not have time to learn the glory of love.

our home is in the earth plutarch and all those who seek belonging in her will manifest eternal beauty. there is a shelter for all mankind my friend, where love forever abounds. poverty does not exist in nature, the stores of the great sea are always fully loaded. what i must do is all that concerns me, not what the people think.

my genuine action will explain itself and all my other genuine actions. my conformity explains nothing. when i act singly, all that i have already done singly justifies me now. greatness appeals to the future plutarch.

if i can be firm enough today to do right and scorn eyes, i must have done so much right before as to defend me now. be it how it will plutarch, do right now. always scorn appearances, and you always may. the force of character is cumulative. all the forgone days of virtue work their health into this.

plutarch: this should be plain enough, yet see how many a soul have been chained to institutions. we only have one life to live, it is too precious to be wasted conforming to the customs and rituals of society. we are like children who repeat by rote divine postman the sentences of grandames and tutors.

and, as they grow older, of the men of talents and character they chance to see,- painfully recollecting the exact words they spoke; afterwards, when they come into the point of view which those had who uttered these sayings, they understand them and are willing to let the words go.

for at any time they can use words as good when occasion comes. if we live truly, we shall see truly. let us not concern ourselves with the ignorant but continue searching for the truth that we believe in. persistence is a gift that is given to every mind, and patience is the grace that all men are given.

it is as easy for the strong man to be strong my friend, as it is for the weak to be weak. there is strength in the blindness that you fear divine postman, depth over distance everytime. when we have new perception, we shall gladly disburden the memory of its hoarded treasures as old rubbish.

when a man lives with love, his voice shall be as sweet as the murmur of the brook, and the rustle of the corn. and now at last the highest truth on this subject remains to be said; probably cannot be said; for all that we say divine postman is the far-off remembering of the intuition.

that thought by what i can now nearest approach to say it, is this. when good is near you divine postman, when you have life in yourself, it is not by any known or accustomed way. you shall not discern the footprints of any other; you shall not see the face of man; you shall not hear any name.

the way, the thought, the good shall be wholly strange and new. it shall exclude example and experience. you take the way from man divine postman, not to man. all persons that ever existed my friend are its forgotten ministers. fear and hope are alike beneath it. there is somewhat low even in hope.

divine postman: we must be prepared to receive all that is good in the human soul and pay for it in nature’s lawful coin. our life plutarch is a struggle between ignorance and illumination. through illumination we become conscious and aware; and we only become conscious and aware when we choose to rebel.

the laws of nature are the same whether poet or businessman. every endeavor we give ourselves to my friend begins with a seed. our obedience to the commands of time, will determine how soon the clutter in our lives is removed. let every man complete his suffering, that he may see his tree grow.

and pay the debt imposed by time on his talent in full. the prize will be granted to those who remain faithful to the end. nature can only fill the simple heart with abundance. humility comes before honor; the greater the simplicity, the greater the glory. in the hour of vision plutarch there is nothing that can be called gratitude, nor properly joy.

the soul raised over passion beholds identity and eternal causation, perceives the self-existence of truth and right. and calms itself with knowing that all things go well. there is no fear in the presence of love,- all that she knows is victory.

plutarch: vast spaces of nature, the atlantic ocean, the antarctic, the magnetic north, the south sea; long intervals of time, years, centuries, are of no account to a soul redeemed in love.

this which i think and feel divine postman underlay every former state of life and circumstances, as it does underlie my present, and what is called life, and what is called death. life only avails, not the having lived.

power ceases in the instant of repose; it resides in the moment of transition from a past to a new state, in the shooting of a star, in the flashing thunder bolt, in the darting to an aim. this one fact the world hates divine postman; that the soul becomes,- it is a progress, not a station; an optimism never a pessimism.

for that forever degrades the past, turns all riches into poverty, all reputation to a shame, confounds the saint with the rogue. when we reach the eternal roots of the soul my friend, all things that we once esteemed fall away; truth, beauty, justice become the glory that we walk in.

how beautiful and eternal are these human hands divine postman, steadily commanding the fate of a man. why then do we prate of self-reliance? inasmuch as the soul is present there will be power not confident but agent.

divine postman: to talk of reliance is a poor external way of speaking. speak rather of that which relies because it works and is. who has more obedience than i masters me plutarch, though he should not raise his finger; and whether he is younger than me it matters not,- his obedience transcends him into a god.

round him plutarch, i must revolve by the gravitation of spirits. we fancy it rhetoric my friend when we speak of eminent virtue. we do not yet see that virtue is height. and that a man or a company of men, plastic and permeable to principles, by the law of nature must overpower and ride all cities, nations, kings, rich men, poets, who are not.

plutarch: the purpose of all our journeys is to grow in understanding. the wise will ask,’why?’ richest of all men my friend is the curious traveler. at any rate, the poets declare that the wisest heroes were those who visited many places and roamed over the world.

for the poets regard it as a great achievement to have seen the cities, the villages, the townships, and known the minds of many men. the best knowledge divine postman is gained through experience. patience will justify the wise, for time will bring all things to light.

the poet will give birth to a word that roars with life, and thunders in the heart of man. as the waters of the sea travel to rejuvenate the feet of the weary traveler, so will the poet quench the thirst of those who yearn for truth with all his wisdom.

oh! what a joy it is to be a student of life. whoever does not imitate nature divine postman will suffer unnecessary torments that have no end. to study the living mountains, the astounding still rocks, the species of animals and plants.

the grass that grows ever-so-steady, the eternal depths of the sea, and the glory of the heavenly bodies is the ultimate pleasure. whoever seeks knowledge will find it. this is the ultimate fact divine postman, the resolution of all into the ever blessed one. simplify, simplify, simplify!

divine postman: self-existence is the attribute of the supreme cause. and it constitutes the measure of good by the degree in which it enters into all lower forms. all things real plutarch are so by so much virtue as they contain.

the mind of man is the power to create; the magnificence of his creations will be embodied by the glory of his body. the revelation of his soul is the great guide.
the limits that we set on the body will be the confines that will live in the mind. how far the body travels plutarch, is how high the mind will soar.

these homes, these families, and all these occupations that people engage in have become a snare to mankind. we have fallen in love with the things that destroy us. we have not faith in the glory of heaven and earth, but trust in institutions and machines.

there is a law in nature for conservation and growth, that asserts eternal providence justifying the ways of apollo to men. our life might be much easier and simpler plutarch than we make it; that the world might be a happier place than it is.

that there is no need of struggles, convulsions, and despairs, of the wringing of the hands and the gnashing of the teeth; that we miscreate our own evils. we interfere with the optimism of nature my friend.

for whenever we get this vantage ground of the past, or of a wiser mind in the present, we are able to discern that we are begirt with natural laws which execute themselves. power is, in nature, the essential measure of right. nature suffers nothing to remain in her kingdoms plutarch which cannot help itself.

plutarch: the genesis and maturation of a great mind, its poise and orbit, the bended tree recovering itself from the strong wind, the vital resources of every animal and vegetable, are demonstrations of the self-sufficing and therefore self-relying soul. there is absolutely no need for us to worry, all we need is great obedience.

oh! how great is the might of styx,- eldest daughter of back-flowing ocean. let us draw a lesson from nature divine postman, which always works by short ways. when the fruit is ripe, it falls.

when the fruit is despatched, the leaf falls. the circuit of the waves is mere falling, the unfolding of the rose is mere falling. the walking of man and all animals is a falling forward.

all our chosen endeavors my friend are sustained by dint of continual falling. the rain, the winds, the fire, the waters, the earth, moon, comet, sun, star, winter spring, autmun, and summer fall forever and ever. man is to settle the value of the inexplicable continuity of this web of hera.

divine postman: there is beauty for those who search. there is a place to spend our quiet nights plutarch, where we can have time to rewind far away from the wolves with red tongues and hands, that seeked to destroy our tender heart.

our suffering has ended my friend and our obedience has set us free from all burdens, all troubles, all misery. we live in everlasting peace with infinite riches that comfort us in our sleep. the seasons transform us everyday, as we shed away the old and put on the new. the nature of the soul is incessant growth.

i have seen fortunes in my lifetime plutarch and i gave them all to pallas athena instead. i believed in the great mysteries of love and i found a sustained faith in all my journeys. now i know my friend, that athena is all right when everyone is wrong.

she is all right gives me strength for another word. darkness has no power over the light. the spirit sports with time,- can crowd eternity into a year, or stretch a year into eternity.

faith will sustain every noble dream. it is a believing-love that holds heaven and earth. the glory of the sun and moon will never be denied, all things not natural are a waste.

plutarch: our primary responsibility on this earth is to take good care of nature. we cut down the almighty trees that nourish us and use the animals for meet, leather, and entertainment. we destroy the hand that feeds, clothes, and shelters us. all commerce divine postman is the cause of man’s domestication of nature.

what spectacle and wonders of nature will the future generations experience? the streams are dry, the woods are cut down, the rhinos and mountain goats are hunted down. we fail to understand, that the children of tomorrow will inherit the mess of this age. there will be no grass to kick the soccer ball; the earth will be covered in concrete.

we can never be at peace divine postman when nature is not at peace. the breath of an animal is no different to the breath of a man. we hate all that is good. we disregard the purity of the waters and stain them with all our consumption habits. oh! what a burden man has become to the sun and moon. we deny the sustaining power of nature and craze ourselves with the dollar.

the more we make babies, the more energy and water we will subsequently use. when we seek to preserve nature a vast load of care will be relieved from us. all men and women are called to account by the sun and moon for all the resources that they use. rich is he divine postman who chooses to give his seed to the earth.

divine postman: on the other hand plutarch the law holds with equal sureness for all right action. love, and you shall be loved. give, and it shall be given unto you. all love and all giving is mathematically just, as much as the two sides of an algebraic expression.

the good man has absolute good, which like fire turns everything to its own nature, so that you cannot do him any harm. but as the royal armies of assyria sent against cyrus, when he approached cast down their colors and from enemies became friends.

so disasters of all kinds plutarch, as sickness, offence, poverty, cruel disappointments, death, prove benefactors as the scrolls of fate unroll. winds blow and waters roll, strength to the brave, and power and deity, yet in themselves my friend are nothing.

the good are befriended even by weakness and defect. as no man had ever a point of pride that was not injurious to him, so no man had ever a defect that was not useful to him. the stag in the fable plutarch admired his horns and blamed his feet, but when the hunter came, his feet saved him.

plutarch: and afterwards, caught in the thicket, his horns destroyed him. every man in his lifetime divine postman needs to thank his faults. as no man thoroughly understands a truth until he has contended against it.

so no man has a thorough acquaintance with the hindrances or talents of man until he has suffered from the one. and seen the truimph of the other over his own want of the same. patience will justify the poet’s enduring labor.

nature will teach each man according to the purpose in which they have been called to fulfill. at the centre there is simplicity of cause and at the surface infinite variety of things.

our strength grows out of our weakness. the indignation which arms itself with secret forces divine postman, does not awaken until we are pricked and stung and sorely assailed. a great man is always willing to be little, by lowly listening he shall hear the right word.

divine postman: while we sit on the cushion of advantages we go to sleep. when we are pushed, tormented, defeated, we have a chance to learn something. for we have been put on our wits plutarch, on our manhood.

we gain facts my friend and learn our ignorance. as we are cured of the insanity of conceit, we have got moderation and real skill. we learn to master the art of adaptation and skate well on the appearances that we find in all our journeys; yet always maintaining our authenticity.

the resources in our good earth are finite. a tree will take centuries to grow once it has been cut down. there is absolutely no need for man to eat flesh plutarch, all our burdens begin with the wrong food that we put into our mouth. the body reacts on the food that we eat.

the production of meat, fish, and dairy comes at a significant cost. the bolts and bars used to confine animals will metamorphoses into the houses that men and women are confined in; they will become concentration camps unto many generations, and will burden sons and daughters with hard meaningless toil.

plutarch: because of man’s disobedience to nature, the gods have hidden from men the means of life. else they would easily do enough work in a day to supply them for a full year even without working.

let us be guided always by wisdom divine postman listening to the language of the snail. it is the god of patience, and commands us to make a sacrifice to her. the spirit accelerates in space, when the body moves with patience in time.

the wise man throws himself on the side of his assailants. it is more his interest than it is theirs to find his weak point. the wound cicatrizes and falls off from him like a dead skin and when they would truimph, lo! he has passed on invulnerable.

blame is safer than praise my friend. i hate to be defended by people. as long as all that is said is against me, i feel a certain assurance of success, that iAM living for something great. but as soon as honeyed words of praise are spoken for me divine postman, i feel as one that lies unprotected before his enemies.

in general every evil which we do not succumb my friend is a benefactor. as the sandwhich islander believes that the strength and valor of the enemy he kills passes into himself, so do we gain strength of the temptation we resist.

divine postman: the same guards plutarch which protect us from disaster, defect, and enmity, defend us, if we will, from selfishness and fraud. bolts and bars my friend are not the best of our institutions, nor is shrewdness in trade a mark of wisdom.

men suffer all their life long under the foolish superstition that they can be cheated. but it is as impossible for a man to be cheated by anyone but himself, as for a thing to be and not to be at the same time. all men will receive exact compensation for their labors plutarch; no more no less.

human labor, through all its forms, from the founding of an empire, to the writing of an epic is one immense illustration of the perfect compensation of the universe. i have become what i deserve plutarch, iAM not afraid to be the voice.

the absolute balance of give and take, the doctrine that everything has its price,- and if that price is not paid in full, not that thing but something else is obtained, and that it is impossible to get anything without its price,- is evidence of the almighty laws of apollo, that no man can ever leap beyond.

plutarch: there is a third silent party my friend to all our bargainings. the nature and soul of things takes on itself the guaranty of the fulfilment of every promise that styx makes. so that honest service divine postman cannot come to loss.

the unique mission that the poet is called to fulfill will come true with the completion of the seasons. he masters all men and women with his obedience. if you serve an ungrateful master divine postman, serve him the more. put hera in your debt. every stroke shall be repaid.

the longer the payment is withholden, the better for you. for compound interest on compound interest is the rate and usage of this exchequer. the patient labor in the depths of eternity will be redeemed in immortal glory.

animals, plants, and flowers obey the same principles that humans do, we share the same heaven and earth. we are all birthed, nurtured and sustained by nature. it gives us no right divine postman to crucify them. they are children of the sun and moon, as we are also descendants of the star.

divine postman: blessed is he plutarch who willingly chooses to not have a home, a family and possessions; so radical will his glory be that all men and all women will follow him. he will plant the earth with roses, marigolds, tomatoes, oak trees and wash his feet in fresh spring waters.

with the sacrifice that he makes he will give to the fruitful earth, allowing it to heal. he will find his fortune in the faithful seasons. his word is life and will give birth to many sons and daughters. he is the rightful traveler; with wisdom and faith, heaven and earth will be his dominion.

let him not fear rejection, and persecution, for nature’s law will prevail, victory will be as sweet as the rising sun pleases his heart. the history of persecution plutarch is a history of endeavors to cheat nature, to make water run uphill, to kick a rock without getting bruised, to twist a rope of sand.

it makes no difference my friend whether the actors be many or one, a tyrant or a mob. a mob is a society of bodies voluntarily bereaving themselves of reason and traversing its work. the mob is man voluntarily descending to the nature of the beast. its fit hour of activity plutarch is night. its actions are insane my friend like its whole constitution.

plutarch: it persecutes a principle; it would whip a right; it would tar and feather justice, by inflicting fire and outrage upon the persons who have these. it resembles the prank of boys divine postman, who run with fire engines to put out the ruddy aurora streaming to the stars.

the inviolate spirit turns their spite against the wrongdoers. the martyr cannot be dishonored my friend. nature will wash away every blood and tear making us new. every lash inflicted divine postman is a tongue of fame; every prison, a more illustrious abode. every burned book or bicycle enlightens the world.

every expunged or suppressed opinion reverberates through the earth from side to side. hours of sanity and consideration are always arriving to communities, as to individuals, when the truth is seen and the martyrs are justified. it will be too late to apologize divine postman for those that shook their fists at the truth of patience.

they cannot recall the done deed, they cannot wipe the blood from their hands, they are held accountable by nature for their spoken word. our whole lives will be spent preparing for the great moment of death, when all that we have done and said will stand before the hand of time.

the greatest satisfaction a man will derive at the end of his life is when the courageous attitudes that he has adopted justify him before apollo. happy is he divine postman who has led a life of righteousness dieing to himself to receive his crown. as a well spent day brings happy sleep, so a life well lived my friend brings happy death.

whoever possesses his life divine postman will lose it; but he who would let go of all the fetters in life, will receive glory. i thought i was learning to live my friend, but i was learning to die. the beauty of the rose has justified all my labors around the sun.

a thing of beauty is a joy forever, its loveliness increases it will never pass into nothingness. oh! the might of love divine postman; how true, how just, how pure art thou; none will ever know your ways, you are the water whose beginning and whose end will never be known. you are the light that lives in the soul.


divine postman: love is in the spirit. the spirit loves in colours that the understanding can never conceive. love thunders in the heart where there is a home within. the soul trembles lee when our spirits travel through our bodies to transfuse in the room.

at that very moment body, soul, mind, heart, and spirit are one. we transcend to taste the glory of heaven. for the universe has three children lee, born at one time, which reappear, under different names, in every system of thought, whether they be called cause, operation, and effect.

or, more poetically, hera, apollo, athena. but which we will call here, the knower, the doer, and the sayer. these stand respectively for the love of truth, for the love of good, and for the love of beauty. we can only exceed our expectations lee when we know not where we are going; moving blindly by faith.

lee: our action is overmastered and characterized above our will by the law of nature. we aim at a petty end divine postman quite aside from the public good, but our act arranges itself by irresistible magnetism in a line with the poles of the universe.

each man is that which he is essentially, so that he cannot be surmounted or analyzed. each man my friend holds the power to radically change their life. he knows not what he can achieve until he has explored the depth of his mind and body. we judge of a man’s wisdom by his hope.

the poet is the sayer, the namer, and represents beauty. he is a sovereign, and stands at the centre of the universe. his spirit will infuse its strong enchantment into the world, that all men who accept his advice will prosper.

for the world is not painted, or adorned, but is from the beginning beautiful. and hera has not made some beautiful things my friend, but beauty is the creator of the universe. the beauty of the spring flowers is the flowing robe in which the poet is clothed.

divine postman: we have to be shepherds of men and women guiding the meek. life is a journey of patience. the greatest test in every man’s life is his ability to wait for what he will receive.

we must believe in the future lee, as we enjoyed great times in the past, so will we create abundant memories in the future. this world must be better than the condition in which fathers and mothers have left it in. let us not fall prey to the ignorance of the previous generation, but plant lush trees in a desert.

for hope is the tree growing on the mountain where the land is barren. therefore the poet is not any permissive potentate, but is emperor in his own right. criticism is infested with a cant of materialism lee, which assumes that manual skill and activity is the first merit of all men.

and disparages such as say and do not, overlooking the fact, that some men, namely, poets, are natural sayers, sent into the world to the end of expression, and confounds them with those whose province is action, but who quit it to imitate the sayers.

lee: but homer’s words are as costly and admirable to homer, as agamemnon’s victories are to agamemnon. the poet divine postman does not wait for the hero or the sage, but, as they act and think primarily, so does he write primarily what will and must be spoken. he is the wave that all men will follow.

reckoning the others, though primaries also, yet, in respect to him, secondaries and servants, as sitters or models in the studio of a painter, or as assistants who bring building materials to a sculptor. the poet is the true master who has no rival and no contemporaries.

he converses with men of an age before his own and those that have yet to be born. he walks upright embodying their spirit and always meditates on the authentic utterances of great men of old.

he is not of a time but lives through all time, telling of things that are and that shall be and that were aforetime with consenting voice. oh! how he will teach all men that all beauty, all good, and all truth obey the divine mind.

divine postman: for poetry was all written before time was lee, and whenever we are so finely organized that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, we hear those primal warblings my friend, and attempt to write them down.

but we lose ever and anon a word, or a verse, and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem. the men of more delicate ear write down these cadences more faithfully. and these transcripts though imperfect, become the songs of generations. for it is through the muses lee and far shooting apollo that there are poets on the earth.

for though a man have grief and sorrow in his newly troubled soul and live in dread because his heart is distressed, yet lee, when a poet, the servant of the muses, chants the glorious deeds of men of old and the blessed gods who inhabit olympus, at once he forgets his heaviness.

and remembers not his sorrows at all. but the gifts of the goddesses soon bring healing to his soul. all things under the sun obey the seasons, the fruitful earth is the nourisher of all men, all creatures, and all plants. for nature is as truly beautiful my friend as it is good, or as it is reasonable.

lee: and must as much appear, as it must be done, or known. words and deeds divine postman are quite indifferent modes of the divine energy. words are also actions my friend, and actions are a kind of words.

sweeter is the prize when we wait for it as it matures, and ripens to bloom in heavenly glory. iAM learning divine postman that it is much easier and pleasanter to follow than to lead.

it is no small thing to rule others my friend, since there are so many difficulties in ruling ourselves. the beginning of wisdom is the mastering of yourself. the doors of fortune will be flung wide open when a soul is rooted in the presence of love.

oh! how extreme and jealous is hera of her own souls. she demands that they be absolutely solitary my friend, contenting themselves with obedience, that she may make them divine.

divine postman: and the joy that we are given is in proportion to those whom we share it with. keeping wisdom to oneself lee is as good as not having it. the sign and credentials of the poet are, that he announces that which no man foretold.

he makes known the end before the beginning my friend, sustaining many a generation with his wisdom. for he was present and privy to the appearance which he describes. he is the true and only doctor; he knows and tells and heals the soul with his word.

he is the only teller of truth; the master of the art of conversation; athena pours sweet dew upon his tongue and from his lips flow gracious words. he is a beholder of ideas, and an utterer of the necessary and causal. he answers his calling through obedience to the divine motives that apollo has writ in his heart.

for we do not speak now of men of poetical talents lee. or, of industry and skill in metre, but of true poets,- cast by the sea on the rocks, suckled by the she-wolf’s teat, wintered with the eagle and ox, power and speed his hands and feet. he is the miracle of nature, the eternal man, the child of the music.

his thought is ordered with the mind of the seasons, so passionate and alive, that, like the spirit of a plant or an animal, it has an architecture of its own, and adorns nature with a new thing.

lee: the thought and the form are equal in the order of time, but in the order of genesis the thought is prior to the form. the poet has a new thought my friend: he has a whole new experience to unfold. he is the key which opens the door to the riches of eternity, that many will find joy in. without his wisdom nothing moves.

he will tell us divine postman how it was with him, and all men will be the richer in his fortune. for, the experience of each new age requires a new confession, and the world seems always waiting for its poet: the universal man, who is always the giver of good things. he is the tree to yield immortal fruit.

for streams of gold, evergreen hills, eternal roses live within him. the word of love he finds in the roots of the earth. the poet will give birth to many children, not in the flesh but in the spirit, and they will endure beyond time. most beloved of nature, the poet is the lover of patience.

he is the perfect man; the saviour of an age, in him beauty multiplies. athena has entrusted the immortal fire in the palm of the poet’s hand. but the poet is burdened by sorrow divine postman, he lives with men and women who subject themselves to spiritual famine for the sake of material gain.

thus he is misunderstood, society rejects the divinity in him. he is deemed crazy, foolish, and a rebel. he refuses to conform to the fleeting trends of the times, and persists in maintaining his truth. he will leave behind all the ignorant and lay in the mountains.

all those who have fallen victim to the deception of institutions will cry out to him, ‘come out unto us.’ but he will dismiss their folly and live with the wide heaven and gracious earth, in the utmost limits of his mind. the voice of the muse will utter oracle after oracle in his sleep.

divine postman: although he is ostracized, the poet holds heaven and earth in his soul. the best things we have as a human race my friend come from madness. the works of art that renovate society lee were conceived by those who were rejected and criticized. the impossible is made possible only when we believe.

the prophetess of delphi and the priestess at dodona were out of their minds when they performed that fine work of theirs for all of greece, either for an individual person or for a whole city. their prophetic trances were inspired by the gods. but they accomplish little or nothing lee when they are in control of themselves.

we can only be kings and queens when we master our wandering heart. the kingdom we build will manifest from the truth that lives within. quiet obedience is far better than wanting to rule in offices and households. be your own best woman lee and all eyes will follow you.

there is a guide that will lead you to your divine waters; there is a home in the sea. how great my friend when in an eye thou art alive with fate. the difficult circumstances that life has placed us in are purposed to raise us lee, that we may find heaven and share it with the whole of mankind.

in like manner all public facts are to be individualized, all private facts are to be generalized. then at once history becomes fluid and true, and biography deep and sublime. we lie in the lap of immense intelligence my friend, which makes us receivers of its truth and organs of its activity.

death in my opinion, is neither good nor ill but the end of life not alike to all, for as stronger or weaker from their birth, their years are unequal; sometimes death is hastened by good or evil causes, neither is it fitting to grieve so much lee for death, knowing that birth is the beginning of man’s pilgrimage, death the end.

let us not weep for those whom we have lost but accept and make peace with their departure. for they have been set free of the suffering that life deals to each man. to die well lee is the part of a willing and wise soul. happy is he my friend who chooses not the longest life but the most virtuous.

when private men shall act with original views the lustre will be transferred from the actions of kings to those of gentlemen. the mind and body of every man and woman is royalty; it calls for daily cultivation according to nature’s commands.

lee: as the persian imitated in his slender shafts and capitals of his architecture the stem and flower of the lotus and palm, so the persian court in its magnificent era divine postman never gave over the nomadism of its barbarious tribes.

but travelled from ecbatana, where the spring was spent, to susa in summer and to babylon for the winter. in the early history of asia and africa divine postman, nomadism and agriculture are the two antagonist facts. the geography of africa and of asia necessitated a nomadic life.

but the nomads were the terror of all those whom the soil or the advantages of a market had induced to build towns. it is evident divine postman that in ancient times the country called greece had no settled population.

on the contrary migrations in hellas were of frequent occurence, the several tribes readily abandoning their homes. they had no need for the acquisition of wealth but moved with the seasons. the necessities of daily sustenance could be supplied at one place as well as at another.

the ancient nomads were incredibly resourceful divine postman cultivating no more of their territory than the exigencies of life required. agriculture therefore was a religous injunction my friend, because of the perils of state from nomadism.

divine postman: and in these late and civil countries of england, america, and south africa these propensities still fight out the old battle, in the nation and in the individual. the youth hates to be confined in one space lee; but loves to move; he is mad for people.

the father expects him to settle down and live for security and comfort. thus the young man with an insatiable desire to see the world and be of greater service to the history of mankind, rebels. he takes many risks, and lays down his life for his great cause, dieing to himself to nourish the world with his divine fruit.

he learns to read, to write and to cycle; he puts to the page the wisdom that he has found in all his travels. upon the seasons completing their course and regenerating his whole soul, the stars give him the sign that he has been patiently waiting for. he takes a leap of faith lee, for the love of mankind and the hope of immortal fame, leaving the stagnant and ignorant behind.

the nomads of africa were constrained to wander by the attacks of the gad-fly lee, which drives the cattle mad, and so compels the tribe to emigrate in the rainy season, and to drive off the cattle to the higher sandy regions.

lee: the nomads of asia divine postman follow the pasturage from month to month. in america and europe the nomadism is of trade and curiosity; a progress, certainly, from the gad-fly of astaboras to the anglo and italomania of boston bay.

life is incredibly simple at its core. “what shall you have,” quoth apollo; “pay for it and take it.” nothing explored, nothing gained. thou shalt receive compensation exactly for what thou hast pursued divine postman, no more, no less.

a mother’s duty is to raise a wise and noble youth and not to teach him to live for the acquisition of wealth. they who provide much wealth for their children divine postman but neglect to improve them by virtue, destroy their character.

they do like those that feed their horses high, and never train them to the manage; by this means their horses are the better in case, but useless for service. whereas the commendations of a horse divine postman consist not in his being fat but serviceable in war, where glory and victory are gained.

in the same kind err they who purchase lands for their children, but neglect their persons; their possessions will be of great value themselves of none, whereas the owner my friend ought to be more honourable than his estate.

divine postman: therefore whosoever breeds his son well, though he leaves him little gives him much: it is the mind lee that will make the youth great or small. whatsoever they have, to the good seems sufficient, to the rude too little.

you leave your children no more than necessity requires my friend, which they, being wise, will esteem plentiful. the ignorant, though free from present trouble, have nothing the less fear for the future.

a child must be taught what is fortitude, justice, and other virtues, that he may be prepared to serve mankind. and live a life free of anxiety or worry. it is reason and wisdom lee that take away cares. no one can lead a happy life, or even one that is bearable without the pursuit of wisdom.

the perfection of wisdom is what makes the happy life, although even the beginnings of wisdom make life bearable. all that is pursued for the sake of personal gain my friend is fleeting. the earth is a glorious system; the city streets, a competition.

nature will give in abundance to those who follow the seasons. the city dweller who believes his will is greater than that of hecate will receive pieces. clearly there is a law in the ground.

lee: poverty is a choice. our fortune lives in our faith. a believing love will relieve us of a vast load of care divine postman. riches my friend are to be measured by their use. it is not large possessions that determine a man’s wealth but so much only as is necessary.

sacred cities, to which a periodical religious pilgrimage was enjoined, or stringent laws and customs, tending to invigorate the national bond, were the check on the old rovers; and the cumulative values of long residence divine postman are the restraints on the itineracy of the present day.

the antagonism of the two tendencies is not less active in the individual, as the love of adventure or the love of repose happens to predominate. we discover our trueselves divine postman through exploration,- the mind can only leap beyond pre-conceived bounds, when it is stretched through a variety of experiences.

the wise will learn the art of adaptation. in all our travels my friend we will search for the oracle that life hides under every rock; and with every rock we uncover we will form a universal truth. a man of rude health and flowing spirits has the faculty of rapid domestication, lives in his wagon and roams through all latitudes as easily as a calmanac.

divine postman: at sea, or in the forest, or in the snow, he sleeps as warm, dines with as good appetite, and associates as happily as beside his own chimneys. the celebrated books of old lee are testament of their ability to renovate the soul of a man. it is the representative man that i find in plato’s republic.

socrates was always discoursing to his friends of something excellent. nor did he only teach wisdom but he practiced it daily. thus xenophon says that the man was not mortal but somewhat of a god because of the imperishable spirit he walked in.

this practice needs to be strengthened and given deeper roots through daily reflection making noble resolutions is not as important lee as keeping the resolutions you have already made. it is important to persevere and fortify your pertinacity my friend until the will to good becomes a disposition to good.

carry out a searching analysis and close scrutiny lee of yourself in all sorts of different lights. consider above all else whether you’ve advanced in wisdom or just in actual years. philosophy is not an occupation of a popular nature my friend, nor is it pursued for the sake of receiving applause.

its concern is not with letters but with truth. the great philosophers lee are great in learning and even greater in every kind of action. thus they gain understanding through knowledge and always exercise their judgement.

lee: bastard and vulgar souls are not worthy of philosophy divine postman, who will not be of service to humanity with the knowledge that they have gained, but use it for their own personal gain. thus they grow in conceit; they boast of a full memory but leave their hearts empty.

knowledge is a dangerous sword my friend that gets in its master’s way and wounds him if it is in a weak hand that does not know how to wield it. it is the universal nature which gives worth to particular men and things.

let all men confidently and heartily live up to their great thought believing that regardless of our birthplace divine postman we are one race. it is not bodily love that binds us but the spirit of love that lives in the gold autumn’s whole kingdom of corn. the flesh is limited my friend, but the spirit of nature has no bounds.

divine postman: it conforms all those who dwell in its presence to its own light. without whose sovereign grace and kindly duty nothing on earth seems fair to fleshly sight. the mind must be empowered to handle the glory that is its due. the promise of styx will be fulfilled. oh! the mountains that faith will move lee.

our facility is deeper seated, in the increased range of our faculties of observation, which yield us points of interest wherever fresh objects meet our eyes. the pastoral nations lee were needy and hungry to desperation.

and this intellectual nomadism, in its excess, bankrupts the mind through the dissipation of power on a miscellany of objects. the home-keeping wit, on the other hand my friend, is that continence or content which finds all the elements of life in its own soul. and which has its own perils of monotony and deterioration, if not stimulated by foreign infusions.

lee: let us never cease to build a kingdom within divine postman. if you shape your life according to nature, you will never be poor; if according to people’s opinions, you will never be rich. nature’s wants are small and simple, but great in purpose and meaning. while those of opinion are limitless.

all the possessions that men and women acquire only serve to induce a craving for even bigger things. natural desires divine postman are limited; those which spring from false opinions have nowhere to stop, for falsity has no point of termination.

when a person is following a track in the woods, there is an eventual end to it somewhere, but with wandering at large there is no end. so give up pointless, empty journeys my friend.

and whenever you want to know whether the desire aroused in you by something you are pursuing is natural or quite unseeing, ask yourself divine postman whether it is capable of coming to rest at any point; if after going a long way there is always something remaining farther away, be sure it is not something natural.

success will come knocking on your door divine postman. and all that nature made thy own, floating in air or pent in stone, will rive the hills and swim the sea and, like thy shadow, follow thee. amor vincit omnia.

the world is moved when the soul of a man trembles before the divine form of hera, and the glory of heaven descends into his soul. there is a beauty, over us divine postman. every mortal knows that it exceeds it in power.

what she is, is not easy to find, nor lawful to inquire. it is our duty divine postman to kneel before the wisdom of the trees. there is no force more potent than obedience to pure motives.


divine postman: happiness is a strange thing. it favors the simple and noble character. men deceive themselves sinethemba chasing riches that do not last and pursue permance through ownership. the value of what you have is determined by the level of enjoyment.

a man may have dozens of books stacked in his library but never have the time to read a single book because he did not pay the price for knowledge. in the book that i read sinethemba, the good thought returns to me, as every truth will, the image of the whole soul.

to the bad thought which i find in it, the same soul becomes a discerning, separating sword, and lops it away. we are wiser than we know. it is eternity in time that reveals the glory of the soul to the understanding mind.

if we will not interfere with our thought, but will act entirely, or see how the thing stands in love, we know the particular thing, and everything, and every man. for great nature, who conceives and completes all creatures, all flowers, and all trees stands behind us and casts her dread omniscience through us over things.

but beyond this recognition of its own in particular passages of the individual’s experience, it also reveals truth. there is none greater than the divine mind. socrates, plato, xenophon, seneca, sophocles, were they not divine sinethemba?

sinethemba: and here we should seek to reinforce ourselves by its very presence divine postman, and to speak with a worthier, loftier strain of that advent. for the soul’s communication of truth, is the highest event in nature.

since it then does not give somewhat of itself, but it gives itself, or passes into and becomes that man it enlightens. or, in proportion to that truth he receives, it takes him to itself. it is only when the human soul has been moved to the core that it will rise and live forever in water creating kingdoms in a desert land.

we distinguish the announcements of the soul, its manifestations of its own nature, by the term revelation. these are always attended divine postman, by the emotion of the sublime. for this communication is an influx of the divine mind into our mind.

it is an ebb of the individual rivulet before the flowing surges of the sea of life. every distinct apprehension my friend of this central commandment agitates men with awe and delight. all that we have is as good as our ability to use it. the level of knowledge that we have about an object is what determines its true value.

the brain and body, when it is in the hands of a person who can think well and act well, is an advantage; but when the mind and body is in the possession of a person who neglects it and chooses not to use it wisely, is no better to him than an abundant field consumed by weeds. it will deteriorate in its capacity to move mountains and will eventually die barren.

divine postman: building a house will confine many generations to great torments. as a city requires daily maintenance by its inhabitants, so will a house require incessant labor to hold it intact.

our labors are fruitless sinethemba, we are fools who store up treasures which time will eventually destroy. too much time is wasted indoors. we live in dread of strangers who will take the meaningless possessions that we spend our whole lives acquiring.

and as we fill our homes with clutter we lose the riches of the soul. wealth can never be material my friend, it is only the soul that is eternally rich. these houses are a reflection of our stagnant thinking sinethemba.

our education system is a means to prepare children for the service of the state, and the accumulative reward for all their labor throughout their lifetime will be a house. we become the property of those whom we serve.

we have not time for living my friend, for we are busy worshipping a household. we bow down before institutions, offices, and titles because of what they promise.

the laws of a state will always contradict with the divine laws of nature. one will win and one will lose. the soul belongs to nature, it is exiled in city streets.

sinethemba: all our actions divine postman are informed by fear and greed, we function as machines. the simplicity of the universe is very different from the simplicity of a machine.

let us not die in walls but live for the outdoors. the simplicity of nature is that which may not be easily read divine postman, but is inexhaustible. it calls for us to hold our gaze at all times, that we may witness the change in the stars.

the birds know the season for mating and will graciously build their nest. they will nurture their young and once their wings are strong they will take a leap and find their own way down,- learning through exploring.

a thrill passes through all men at the reception of new truth, or at the performance of a great action, which comes out of the heart of nature. a man is the word cast into flesh divine postman.

he is complete when he becomes water, that he may quench the thirst of the many he will meet. divine knowledge can only be stored in a divine vessel. solitude is the true lover of the poet.

divine postman: the communications of the soul reveal to us that the power to do is not separated from the will to do, but the insight proceeds from obedience, and the obedience proceeds from a joyful perception.

every moment when the individual feels himself invaded by it, is memorable. by the necessity of our constitution sinethemba a certain enthusiasm attends the individual’s consciousness of that divine presence.

we know the truth my friend when the soul reveals it to us. be it in our sleep or in broad daylight, it is as clear and perfect as the waters. the character and duration of this enthusiasm varies with the state of the individual.

it will penetrate his soul according to his faith, from an ecstasy and trance and prophetic inspiration,- which is its rarer appearance. to the faintest glow of virtuous emotion, in which form it warms, like our household fires, all the families and associations of men, and makes society possible. the soul is awakened through suffering.

sinethemba: a certain tendency of insanity divine postman has always attended the advent of the divine sense in men, as if they had been blasted with the excess of light. they are anchored to the truth by the explosion of light within.

the trances of socrates, the union of plato, the visions of leonardo, the illumination of emerson, the aurora of strabo, the convulsions of montaigne, are of this kind. what was in the case of these divine persons a ravishment, has, in innumerable instances in common life, been exhibited in less striking manner. let every man reason with his soul.

everywhere the history of divinity in men betrays a tendency to enthusiasm. the rapture of greek philosophy, art, poetry, sculpture, architecture, and history, are varying forms of that shudder of delight and awe divine postman, with which the individual soul always mingles with the universal soul.

the great books, poems, plays, and paintings that have been passed down in our history are a manifestation of the living soul. the poets, the painters, the sculptors that we hold dear in our memory expressed the glory of the human soul, and its harmony with the universal soul.

divine postman: all the dangers that we leap above sinethemba, all the fires that we walk through, all the rejection and cruel disappointments, will serve to entrench us to the roots of our being; all sorrow is the fire in our splendid creations.

our melancholy is not in vain, it is the muse humbling us and teaching us that the greatest accomplishment in all of life is to live wholly from within, obeying the great commands of the soul. all things are meaningless without wisdom my friend. the nature of the revelations of the soul is the same; they are perceptions of the absolute law.

they are solutions of the soul’s own questions. they do not answer the questions the understanding asks. the soul answers never by words sinethemba, but by the thing itself that is inquired after. the human soul is the seat of all justice, all virtue, and all beauty.

we can only receive these riches when we pay the price according to nature’s lawful coin. we suffer for our glory sinethemba but we do not know when it will come. faith will move every mountain. revelation is the disclosure of the soul. the popular notion of a revelation my friend is that it is a telling of fortunes.

sinethemba: the mob does not lean on love but creates an illusion in their minds that they can own things. do they not know that time is sovereign over all things, and as she gives to man so will she take?

we are born naked divine postman, and naked we shall depart. the sovereign laws of nature will strip all men to the human soul, and the body will return to the earth. as long as skies are blue, and fields are green, evening must usher night, night the morrow. month follow month with woe, and year wake year with sorrow.

death is what justifies our freedom, the world wide web calls all those who desire to be free. it is only when we die to ourselves divine postman that we create for eternity. objections and criticisms we have had our fill of my friend; a tree will first anchor its roots before it will yield abundant fruit. let the blogger take a leap of faith.

in past oracles of the soul the understanding seeks to find answers to sensual questions, and undertakes to tell from love how long men shall exist, what their hands shall do and who shall be their company. adding names and dates and places.

but we must pick no locks my friend. we must check this low curiosity. an answer in words is delusive divine postman; it is really no answer to the questions you ask. the language of the soul can only be understood through patience.

sinethemba: do not require a description of the countries towards which you sail. the description does not describe them to you divine postman, and tomorrow you arrive there and know them by inhabiting them. we can only know something once we have experienced it. the traveller will tell the best stories.

the soul is true to itself, and the man in whom it is shed abroad cannot wander from the present, which is infinite, to a future, which would be finite. truth, justice, love the attributes of the soul, sustain the young mind through times of sorrow. in times of darkness we see these attributes shining brightest.

i would not be hurried by any love of system divine postman, by any exaggeration of instincts, to underrate the book. we all know my friend, that, as the human body can be nourished on any food, though it were boiled grass and the broth of shoes, so the human mind can be fed on any knowledge.

divine postman: the word is life when we live it. great and heroic men have existed sinethemba, who had almost no other information but by the printed page. i only would say, that it needs a strong head to bear that diet.

how fleeting is this life my friend, great and mean meet massed in death, who lends what life must borrow. the function of men is the exercise of his soul, on one side in obedience to reason, and on the other side with reason.

we are to use this great mind, this sublime simple body, and be a voice for what we believe in. our lives are cluttered sinethemba, we have been chained to appearances, we live for the noise. there are no roots in our endeavors.

we base our happiness on what is external and never spend time with ourselves. to live your calling sinethemba is to exercise virtue, wisdom, and love beautifully with various kinds of reason.

we lose love with every material object we acquire. our purpose lives in what we give birth to. what the seasons yield in us is the cause that our lives will be dissolved to.

iAM convinced sinethemba, that each man and each woman is on this earth to know who they are through studying nature. it is the seasons that bring meaning to our lives, and point us to our history.

sinethemba: one must be an inventor to read well. as the proverb says my friend, “he that would bring home the wealth of the indies, must carry out the wealth of the indies.”

there is then creative reading, as well as creative writing. when the mind is braced by labor and invention divine postman, the page of whatever book we read becomes luminous with manifold allusion.

every sentence is doubly significant, and our sense of the author is as broad as the universe. we then see my friend, what is always true, that, as the seer’s hour of vision is short and rare among heavy days and months, so is its record, perchance, the least part of his volume.

the discerning young mind, will read in his aristotle or seneca, only that least part,- only the authentic utterances of the oracle; all the rest he rejects, were it never so many times aristotle’s and seneca’s. of course divine postman, there is a portion of reading quite indispensible to the blogger.

history, and philosophy, and poetry he must learn by laborious reading. colleges, in like manner, have their indispensible libraries. and they can only highly serve the inquisitive mind, who will abandon lecture halls for the serene library. the young genius is to live inside the library as though he were content in the woods.

he will scoff the meaningless lectures that rush learning and will pursue true knowledge divine postman that begins with the trees. let us first live before we read and write, that we may be independent in our thinking and languidly turn the pages of every great genius we grow to love.

divine postman: thought and knowledge, are natures in which apparatus and pretension avail nothing. gowns, and percuniary foundations, though of towns of gold, can never countervail the least sentence or syllable of wit.

knowledge is the foundation upon which every city, every college, and every character is built. we are sustained by the habits of the hands and feet. movement is the cause of knowledge.

the life that we live is a reflection of the knowledge that we have gained. material objects are meaningless sinethemba; the soul is eternal. no man can ever break in and steal, virtue, beauty, and honor.

there goes in the world a notion, that the blogger should be a recluse, a valetudinarian,- as unfit for any handiwork or labor, as a penknife for an axe. the so-called ‘practical men’ sneer at speculative men sinethemba, as if, they speculate or see, they could do nothing.

they are ignorant and flawed in their opinion. the wise blogger weighs heaven and earth in his mind, eternity is his daily concern, he is wrestling with the cause of all things. his mind is weighed down by centuries. he is to give the present age and those yet to be born an account of what is beyond the sun.

action is with the blogger subordinate, but it is essential. without it sinethemba, the blogger is not yet man and woman. without it, thought can never ripen into truth. success is in our hands, iAM the maker of my destiny.

justice even if slow, is certain. wait till the time when the golden star rises, the bringer of dawn sherpherding the lonesome night. then thou delicate youth haste thee away to the shores of the sea. wisdom you will find in thee; a voice to many you will be testifying to all nations that love overcomes all things.

the truest occupation is concerned with the love for people my friend; the best gift that one can ever give is wisdom. whilst the world hangs before the eye as a cloud of beauty sinethemba, we cannot even see its beauty. inaction is cowardice, but there can be no blogger my friend without the heroic mind.

sinethemba: we can only live when we die to all things. glory favors the brave. the preamble of thought, the transition through which it passes from the unconscious to the conscious, is action. only so much do i know, as i have lived divine postman.

instantly we know whose words are loaded with life and whose not. society has lost the ability to reason, we choose to do what is easy and never align our mind with the harmony in nature. we reject the grace of patience.

we think we have friends, family, and spouses that are a distant miles away,- we call them without end and let the glory in the present moment pass us by. society acquires new technologies divine postman but loses old instincts.

we can only communicate the essence of our being through art. the world,- this shadow of the soul, or other me, lies wide around. its attractions are the keys which unlock my thoughts and make me acquainted with myself.

i run eagerly divine postman into this resounding tumult. i grasp the hands of those next to me, and take my place in the ring to suffer and to create. taught by an instinct, that so shall the dumb abyss be vocal with speech.

i pierce its order; i dissipate its fear; i disspose of it within the circuit of my expanding life. so much only of life divine postman, as i know by experience, so much of the wilderness have i vanquished and planted, or so far have i extended my being, my dominion.

divine postman: in all my journeys that hera has given me, i have come to learn sinethemba that man can achieve anything he sets his heart to. man is his own star; and the soul that can render an honest and a perfect man, commands all light, all influence, all fate, nothing to him my friend falls early or too late.

i do not see how any man can afford, for the sake of his nerves and his nap, to spare any action in which he can partake. it is pearls and rubies to his discourse sinethemba. drudgery, calamity, exasperation, want, are instructors in eloquence and wisdom.

the true blogger grudges every opportunity of action pass by, as a loss of power. we are all searching for truth, justice, and love in our short lives. all fears, all convulsions, and all worry disappear into the atmosphere when we find this vast flowing vigor.

it is the raw material sinethemba out of which the intellect moulds her splendid products. the poet goes forward at all hours, creating a world that is new to mankind. he is the voice of the gods,- the complete man who apprises us not of his wealth, but of the commonwealth. let the world be one in love.


divine postman: success is no mystery. there is a cause for success which will move things and bring them together. all i do is stay focused diogenes looking straightforward at the heavens and beyond.

time was when all things grew up at once. first of all things was chaos made until mind came and set them in order. every act hath some falsehood of exaggeration in it.

and when now and then comes along some melancholy, sharp-eyed genius, who sees how paltry a game is played, and refuses to play, but blabs the secret;- how then? is the bird flown diogenes?

diogenes: oh no, my friend, the wary nature sends a new troop of fairer forms, of lordlier youths, with a little more excess of direction to hold them fast to their several aim.

makes them a little wrongheaded in that direction in which they are rightest, and on goes the game again divine postman with new whirl, for a generation or two more. it takes four years to change a life. we travel within my friend to reach our destiny. we reach our ordained place when we are in unison with our history.

the child with his sweet pranks, the fool of his senses, commanded by every sight and sound, without any power to compare and rank his sensations, abandoned to a whistle or a painted chip, to a lead dragoon or a gingerbread dog, individualizing everything, generalizing nothing, delighted with every new thing.

lies down at night overpowered by the fatigue which this day of continual pretty madness has conceived. oh! how charming is this life my friend to those who do not covet wealth, nor even pleasure, but excellence and fame. let our ambition keep our spirit focused and lofty in advance of our years.

divine postman: once upon a time diogenes, the preceding generation managed to achieve some petty success; now they expect the young genius to covet their idols. nothing on earth is worth beholding but the human soul. it is where everlasting riches are found.

the father will pin the son down and discourage him from inventing a new era. i will not imitate the poverty of their thinking diogenes. i will reject comfort, security, luxury, frivolity, and give myself to struggles, wars, and ambition. let our achievements diogenes be a mark of history, and resound with the song of apollo.

but nature has answered her purpose with the curly, dimpled lunatic. she has tasked every faculty my friend, and has secured the symmetrical growth of the bodily frame by all these attitudes and exertions.

an end of the first importance, which could not be trusted to any care less perfect than her own. all men who live with a burning desire to succeed diogenes will receive their prize, according to nature’s divine design.

diogenes: our life is a fluid membrane like the earth and takes the shape of whatever decisions we make. the soul can never be stagnant divine postman, it is either growing or dieing. it is not only order and beauty that are the cause of mind but also disorder and the ugly.

however, divine postman our natural state is order and beauty. for success is a celestial harmony of likely minds composed of stars concent, which join together in sweet sympathy, to work each other’s joy and true content.

this glitter my friend, this opaline lustre plays round the top of every toy of the ambitous eye to insure his fidelity, and he is deceived to his good. we are made alive and kept alive my friend by the same arts. true knowledge divine postman can only be obtained through suffering. there is one muse who penetrates the willing soul with water.

let the stoics say what they please, we do not eat for the good of living, but because the meat is savoury and the appetite keen, however everything is good in moderation my friend. the vegetable life does not content itself divine postman with casting from the flower or the tree a single seed.

divine postman: but it fills the air and the earth with a prodigality of seeds diogenes, that, if thousands perish, thousands may plant themselves. that hundreds may rise up, that tens may ripen to maturity; that at least one may replace the original!

all things my friend betray the same calculated profusion. the excess of fear with which the animal frame is hedged round, shrinking from cold, starting at sight of a snake, or at a sudden noise, protects us, through a multitude of groundless alarms, from some one real danger at last.

the lover seeks in matrimony of spirits his private felicity and perfection, with no prospective end; and nature diogenes hides in his happiness her own end, namely, progeny, or the pepertuity of the race. we are called by nature to create.

we send children to schools to protect the wealth we have acquired and not to let them explore their imagination. the culture of schooling diogenes is miles apart with the culture of learning.

nature withholds her divine knowledge, for we have chosen to cut down the wise trees and pollute her pure waters. let us cease to possess our children and let them lose themselves to find themselves.

a child will learn more from riding a bicycle, and tilling the garden then he will in the confines of lecture halls. should he not understand the language of the seasons he will live in misery, suffering unnecessary burdens.

life flows as a river before us, only the brave diogenes will see the treasure of time. the internet has made learning accessible to all men. it is a revolution that needs to be anchored in nature.

diogenes: but the craft with which the world is made, runs also into the mind and character of men. no man is quite sane divine postman; each has a vain of folly in his composition, a slight determination of blood to the head my friend.

to make sure of holding him hard to some one point which nature had taken to heart. great causes are never tried on their merits; but the cause is reduced to particulars to suit the size of the partisans, and the contention is ever hottest on minor matters.

not less remarkable divine postman is the overfaith of each man in the importance of what he has to say or do. the best evidence we have of success my friend is nature; for the parts in all of creation balance in astonishing harmony and do not overwhelm the whole. whoever desires to succeed must imitate nature, and study the art of patience.

divine postman: success my friend is mirrored by nature, so easy and simple are her laws, that she seems to content herself with relieving a man with all the burdens of life. when he seeks to wound her creatures, his hands will be glued to his sides or beat against his own breast. we only prosper with nature, all our joy lives in her.

all that she asks from us is to obey her laws and follow her divine footsteps. she will teach her immortal truth through the process of starting a fire. first the thought of making a fire is conceived in the mind. the body will manifest the thought through movement; thus we descend into the serene woods.

we stumble upon solitude, and know not any companion as we cast off all worldly relations. the evening star will relieve us of our labor and we set fire to the logs we found. we learn that the fire diogenes served as a means to teach us, that the reward is in the journey.

and in the end when we gather around the hearth we are one with earth, wind, moon, and man; absorbing both the past and future into the present moment. the elements of nature communicate seemlessly, constantly weaving in and out of each other. our lives are nothing but an extended metaphor of the invisible hand in nature.

diogenes: the poet, the philosopher, has a higher value for what he utters than any hearer, and therefore it gets spoken. the strong self-complacent plato declares with an emphasis not to be mistaken, “that pallas athena cannot do without wise men.”

but souls that of her own good life partake, she loves as her own self divine postman; dear as her eye they are to her: she will never forsake them. when they shall die, then pallas athena herself shall die; they live, they live in blest eternity.

each poet and philosopher comes presently to identify himself with his thought divine postman, and to esteem his hat and shoes sacred. however this may discredit such persons with the judicious, it helps them with the people, as it gives heat, pungency, and publicity to their words.

a similar experience is not infrequent in private life. each young and ardent person my friend writes a journal, in which, when the hours of solitude and penitence arrive, she inscribes her soul. the pages thus written are to her burning and fragrant; she reads them on her knees by midnight and by the morning star.

she wets them with her tears divine postman; they are sacred my friend; too good for the world, as demades was too good for athens, and hardly yet to be shown to the nearest friend.

divine postman: the greatest things are those that we do in silence. the poet will go about his labor in silence, scoffing the criticism of the ignorant. success is a cumulative effect, all the foregone days of virtue work their health into this. the honest labor of four winters will bear fruit for eternal summers.

the man-child diogenes that is born to the soul, still circulates in the babe. the umbilical cord has not yet been cut.
after some time has elapsed, she begins to wish to admit her friend to this hallowed experience, and with hesitation, yet with firmness, exposes the pages to his eye.

she learns to be vulnerable through sharing all that she has found in the depths of her being and her words burn the eyes of her friend. the friend coldly turns them over diogenes, and passes from the writing to conversation, with easy transition, which strikes the other party with astonishment and vexation.

he cannot suspect the writing itself. days and nights of fervid life, of communion with angels of darkness and of light have engraved their shadowy characters on that tear-stained book. he suspects the intelligence or the heart of his friend.

is there then no friend diogenes? he cannot yet credit that one may have impressive experience and yet may not know how to put his private fact into literature.

and perhaps the discovery that wisdom has other tongues and ministers than we, that though we should hold our peace the truth diogenes would not less be spoken, might check injuriously the flame of our zeal.

diogenes: a man can only speak so long as he does not feel his speech to be partial and inadequate. it is partial my friend, but he does not see it to be so whilst he utters it. as soon as he is released from the instinctive and particular and sees its partiality, he shuts his mouth in disgust.

can we not give our whole life to exploring the riches of the human soul divine postman, and seek to understand this sphinx of life? no age in history has ever exhausted the wealth of the imagination.

for no man can write anything who does not think that what he writes is for the time, the history of the world; or do anything well, who does not esteem his work to be of importance.

love is what will move us forward. my work may be of none, but i must not think it of none my friend, or i shall not do it with impunity. history will honor the brave divine postman, who took the road less travelled by when the whole cry of voices is on the other side. the wide road is insanity.

the mass of humanity never question things. people do what they see others doing divine postman. they live and die in spiritual famine as they spend their whole lives trying to make water run uphill, expecting a change without suffering. there is joy in simple living, our true nature lives within.

success can only be the mastering of simplicity. nature is a repetition and an endless combination of a very few laws divine postman, she hums the old well-known air through innumerable variations. the mind is shaped by the habits of the hands and feet.

of the soul the body doth form take, for soul is form and doth the body make. a simple and pure soul will radiate beauty. so many things are unsettled divine postman which it is of the first importance to settle; and, pending their settlement, we will do as we do.

divine postman: law of copyright and international copyright is to be discussed and in the interim we will sell our words for the most we can.

expediency of literature, reason of literature, lawfulness of writing down a thought, is questioned; much is to say on both sides diogenes, and, while the fight waxes hot, thou, dearest blogger, stick to thy foolish task.

add a line every hour, and between whiles add a line. nature will reward your slow unhonored task, that will not only resound in this age but will be the oak tree that grows beside your grave, yielding eternal fruit to all nations.

life itself is a bubble and a skepticism, and a sleep within a sleep. but thou nature’s darling! heed thy private dream diogenes; stay there in thy closet, and toil until the seasons complete their course. all things are possible through patience.

we receive our glory when the hand is in harmony with the heavens. the changes above dictate the changes below. thy sickness, they say, and thy puny habit require that thou do this or avoid that.

but know diogenes that thy life is a flitting state, a tent for a night, and do thou, sick or well, finish that stint. thou art sick, but shalt not be worse, and the universe, which holds thee dear, shall be the better. for thou answerest thy calling and become a creator.

diogenes: virtue lives in beauty. all great minds in history divine postman had the same fellow beings as us. the sun and moon; earth, water, wind, and fire met their heart’s desire precisely as they meet ours.

as we simplify our lives to dance to nature’s song, we will learn to love ourselves. and, in fine, the ancient precept, “know thyself,” and the modern precept, “study nature,” become at last one maxim. the life of every man is shaped by what he thinks.

simplicity can only be conceived through faith. everyday the poet is to hold his gaze, and with time his habit will yield abundance. nature will fulfill her purpose through us divine postman with patience. we are the instruments that apollo will use to sing his great song.

divine postman: human life is made up of the two elements, power and form, and the proportion must be invariably kept my friend if we would have it sweet and sound. each of these elements in excess makes a mischief as hurtful as its defect.

everything runs to excess diogenes; every good quality is noxious if unmixed, and, to carry the danger to the edge of ruin, nature causes each man’s peculiriality to superabound. here, among the fields, we adduce the bloggers as examples of this treachery. they are nature’s victim of expression.

they who see the artist, the orator, the blogger, the dancer, the skateboarder, the cyclist, the surfer, and find their life no more excellent than that of mechanics or plumbers or farmers or teachers.

and themselves victims of partiality, very hollow and haggard, and pronounce them failures and fools, not heroes, but quacks,- conclude very reasonably that these arts are not for man, but are disease.

yet nature will not bear the critics out diogenes. irresistable nature made men such my friend. and makes legions more of such everyday, imparting upon them wisdom before the dollar. we love the boy reading in a book, gazing at a drawing or a cast; yet what are these millions who read and behold diogenes but incipient writers and sculptors?

add a little more of that quality which now sees and reads, and they will seize the pen and chisel. and if one remembers diogenes how innocently he became a blogger or photographer.

he perceives that nature joined with his enemy. a man is a golden impossibility my friend, the line he must walk is a hair’s breadth. the wise through excess of wisdom is made a fool.

diogenes: how easily, if fate would suffer it divine postman, we might keep forever these beautiful limits, and adjust ourselves once for all, to the perfect calculation of the kingdom of known cause and effect. for there is an invisible cause that moves in perfection, aligning all things to meet beauty.

in the street and in the newspaper, life appears so plain a business that manly resolution and adherence to the multiplication-table through all weathers will insure success.

but ah! presently comes a day, or is it only a half-hour my friend, with its angel whispering,- which discomfits the conclusions of nations and of years! tomorrow again everything looks real and angular.

the habitual standards are reinstated, common sense divine postman is as rare as genius,- and experience is hands and feet to every enterprise. and yet, he who should do his business on this understanding would be quickly bankrupt.

there is no wisdom in our marriages, our homes lack character, we die in meaningless relationships, with a heap of regrets lingering. power divine postman keeps quite another road than the turnpikes of choice and will; namely the subterranean and invisible tunnels and channels of life.

be yourself and all that is good will follow you. the devil himself will not be too far away but patience will remove him from your memory, and love will envelop you.

divine postman: the devil is all that is fear diogenes and breeds poverty in our thinking. love does not live in fear but treads with her tender feet always in victory. it is ridiculous, that we are diplomatists, and doctors, and considerate people: there are no dupes like these.

life is a series of surprises, and would not be worth taking or keeping if it were not. it is when we are cast in the wilderness diogenes that we learn how to get up, and in time we will teach others to be their own conqueror. hera delights to isolate us everyday, and hide from us the past and the future.

we would look about us, but with grand politeness she draws down before us an impenetrable screen of purest sky, and another behind us of purest sky. teaching us that what sustains is not what we see, but what we believe.

‘you will not remember diogenes,’ hera seems to say, ‘and neither will you expect the riches of your faith.’ patience is the grace that all men are given. all good conversation my friend, manners, and action, come from a spontaneity which forgets usages and makes the moment great.

divine postman: a slow fire is an enduring fire. nature is slow but perfect. she will take all time, all space to fulfill her purpose. richest of all men is he who learns to wait. the millions, that are around us diogenes rush into life, and are thus fed on the sere remains of foreign harvests.

success is the art of patience. no matter what you are going through diogenes it will pass. summer will bring great delight to heal the barren winter. when a man is one with nature he will never beg. he will wait until heaven opens her storehouses and showers him with the favors that he earned through his faith. hecate will surprise the wise.

nature hates calculators; her methods are sultatory and impulsive. man lives by pulses diogenes; our organic movements are such; and the chemical and ethereal agents are undulatory and alternate; and the mind goes antagonizing on, and never prospers but by fits.

we thrive by casualties. our chief experiences have been casual. the most attractive class of people diogenes are those who are powerful obliquely and not by the direct stroke; men of genius, but not yet accredited; one gets the cheer of their light without paying too dear a tax.

diogenes: theirs is the beauty of the bird and the morning light, and not of art. in the thought of genius divine postman there is always surprise, there is always wonder, and astonishment at the revelations of the soul.

no man alive divine postman has ever witnessed struggles that i survived. picture me my friend inside the misery of poverty, without a hand to hold in the darkest times. love takes us through peaks and valleys.

when we go through changes within everything before our eyes does not make much sense. oh! but we hold on my friend to hope and wait until that lonesun breaks from the arms of the sea. we will watch the heavens for a sign from apollo and listen to the thunder as an omen of our greatest moment.

the voice of athena divine postman lives inside the heart, whispering truth that calms the passionate mind. for none has conquered but love. mortal man in his one day’s dusk will tremble before the presence of hera. no power in wealth or war or tough-sea blackened ships can prevail against untiring destiny!

divine postman: the moral sentiment is well called “the newness,” for it is never other; as new to the oldest intelligence as to the young child. the kingdom that cometh without observation. in like manner diogenes, for practical success, there must not be too much design.

silence is the perfect hand that weaves the thundering success, which in our wildest dreams we could never conceive. a man will not be observed in doing that which he can do best. there is a certain magic my friend about our properest action which stupifies, so that though it is done before you, you wist not of it.

the art of life has a pudency, and will not be exposed. every man and woman diogenes is an impossibility until they are born; everything impossible until we see a resounding success. simplicoty is the foundation for greatness.

hence it is a miracle that a baby will persist to leave the womb leaving what is warm and secure for what is hard and uncertain; but with time will become divine.

the ardors of piety agree at last diogenes with the coldest skepticism,- that nothing is of us my friend, that all is of love. nature will not spare us the smallest leaf of laurel. all writing comes by grace, and all doing and all having is given to man by earth, wind, fire, and water.

diogenes: i would gladly be moral and keep due metes and bounds, which i dearly love, and allow the most to the will of man. but i have set my heart on honesty in this chapter divine postman, and i can see nothing at last, in success or failure, than more or less of vital force supplied from the eternal.

the results of life divine postman are unculculated and unculculable. the years teach much which the days never know. the years are wise, and the days are childlike. the persons who compose our company, converse, and come, and go, and design and execute many things.

and somewhat comes of it all, but an unlooked for result. all that is of nature is divine. the individual is always mistaken. he designed many things divine postman, and drew in other persons as co-adjutors, quarrelled with some or all, blundered much, and something is done.

all are a little advanced but the individual divine postman is always mistaken. it turns out somewhat new, and very unlike he promised himself. it is only in retrospect my friend that we will understand the meaning of all our suffering.

the future is not ours let us be faithful to the commands of time. all is perfect in love. oh! this i know my friend, that love will compensate every loss. the sure years will never fail to complete the good work that hera, started in a man. every answer that we need is given to us within. the god of the silver bow will move upon our faith.


divine postman: through one person we touch millions of people. we grow in faith when we are rooted in patience. humility is achieved through obedience to pure motives. our culture delays death for too long simamkele. we do not accept that death’s years have already passed us.

experienced men of the world know very well that it is best to pay scot and lot as they go along, and that a man often pays dear simamkele for a small frugality. the borrower runs in his own debt. has a man gained anything who has received a thousand favors and rendered none?

has he gained simamkele by borrowing, through indolence or cunning, his wife’s money and son’s labor? there arises on the deed the instant acknowledgement of benefit on the one part and of debt on the other; that is, of inferiority and superiority.

simamkele: the transaction remains in the memory of himself and his neighbor; and every new transaction alters according to its nature their relation to each other. he may soon come to see divine postman that he had better have broken his own bones than to have ridden in his wife’s and son’s coach.

and that the highest price he can pay for a thing is to ask for it. we die daily divine postman; and as a day well spent brings happy sleep, so a life well lived brings happy death. such innocence there was in our childhood divine postman!

youth steals the sweetness of childhood in a manner that is incredibly fast. manhood escapes with the bloom of youth; and old age cripples the strength of a man. a wise man will extend this lesson to all parts of life, and know that it is the part of prudence my friend to face every claimant.

and pay every just demand on your time, your talents, your heart. always pay my friend; for first or last you must pay your entire debt, that you may live a contented life. there is more to life than family, houses, titles, and wealth.

persons and events may stand for a time between you and justice divine postman, but it is only a postponement. time is wisest of all my friend and will bring all things to light.

divine postman: we need to have faith in the revelations of the soul. every man and woman must pay at last their own debt; and honor the song that sings in the soul.

oh! cease to worry my friend, the birds find shelter in the wisdom of the tree. complete your suffering simamkele, that your prize will be full and not partial. hope needs a humble hand.

if you are wise you will dread a prosperity which only loads you with more. benefit is the end of nature. but for every benefit which you receive simamkele, a tax is levied. he is great who confers the most benefits. he is base,- and that is the one base thing in the universe,- to receive favors and render none.

all things in nature are in proportion, the photographer has to make a trade-off between what to use and what to discard. there is only so much that he can fit into his frame. there is a set amount of songs that the poet will write with the time that he is given.

simamkele: as i reminisce on my childhood divine postman, the simplicity of those times seem to have sped past as the wind that hurries the clouds before a storm. all that remains of those innocent times are these lingering memories. when all that i needed was the sun.

we frolicked in the waters of the winding stream and dried our bodies, as we layed here on this rock. the sun looked like the afterlife, as we made our way home my friend. we washed our feet and set ourselves for the evening meal. the sun was lost in the moon and we started a fire to listen to the tales of our grandmother.

in the order of nature we cannot render benefits to those from whom we receive them, or only seldom. but the benefit we receive divine postman must be rendered again, line for line, deed for deed, cent for cent, to somebody.

beware of too much good staying in your hand. it will fast corrupt and worm worms my friend. pay it away quickly in some sort. it is good to always be prepared. it is in times of security, that the spirit should be preparing itself to deal with difficult times.

conversely, it is in difficult times that we should be reaching for our roots preparing for the rush of our glory. descending at speed downhill requires as much wisdom simamkele, as ascending up a steep hill. nature awaits to impart great gifts to man, his duty is to learn the discipline of a tree, that he may sustain the victory.

divine postman: we never stop preparing simamkele, the soul is a progress not a station; while fortune is bestowing favors on us or has withdrawn her favors from us, then is the time to be strengthened against her rebuffs, or the rush of the abundance that she will yield. love comes to see us without bell.

labor is watched over by the same pitiless laws. cheapest, say the prudent is the dearest labor. what we buy in a broom, a shovel, a brush is some application of good sense to a common want. it is best to pay in your land simamkele a skilful gardener, or to buy good sense applied to gardening.

in your sailor, good sense applied to navigation. in your house, good sense applied to cooking, cleaning, serving, and sewing. in your agent, good sense applied to accounts and affairs. so do you multiply your presence my friend, and spread yourself throughout your estate.

simamkele: these houses, these families, these offices, these titles, and these cars have severed us from the happy realms of that celestial light. we increase in numbers divine postman but diminish in strength.

human nature was originally one and we were a whole and the desire and pursuit of the whole is called love. there was a time divine postman, when we were one. do you remember when we were young?

we always played together running free beneath the sun; as the scrolls of fate unrolled, anguish gnawed at our hearts, fear ruled our lives, everlasting peace was lost. we settled for dull pieces, as we confined ourselves in marriage, lonely households, and drowsy institutions.

divine postman: we exchanged that celestial light simamkele where rest, peace, joy and freedom dwell for this mournful gloom of early mornings, late nights and permanent dwellings. everyday there is torture for the house owners without end.

hope never comes for pride rules their heart. ingratitude seduced them to that foul revolt and moved all our grandparents from the simplicity of nature to the folly of bricks and mortar.

the dual constitution of things in labor as in life, implies that there can be no cheating. the thief steals from himself simamkele. the swindler swindles himself. for the real price of labor my friend is knowledge and virtue, whereof wealth and credit are signs.

these signs, like paper money, may be counterfeited or stolen. but that which they represent simamkele, namely knowledge and virtue cannot be counterfeited or stolen. these ends of labor cannot be answered but by real exertions of both body and mind, and in obedience to pure motives.

knowledge without action is worthless. the cheat, the gambler, the defaulter, cannot extort the knowledge of material and moral nature which his honest care and pains yield to the operative.

the law of nature simamkele, is do the thing, and you shall have the power; but they who do not the thing have not the power. the housekeeper, the gardener, the plumber, the carpenter, and the electrician hold greater riches than the house owner.

they are wise and noble, independent with their hands and feet. all that they need is to engage the mind in reading and exercise the body regularly and they will manifest the wealth in the spirit. those who lean on nature will reap a bountiful harvest

simamkele: human labor divine postman, through all its forms, from the tilling of the soil to the founding of a kingdom or an epic, is one immense illustration of the perfect compensation of the universe. let every man and woman have faith in the promise of the gods, and labor in love.

the absolute balance of give and take, the doctrine that everything has its price,- and if that price is not paid in full, not that thing but something else is obtained, and that it is impossible to get anything without its price,- is not less sublime, in the laws of light and darkness, in all the action and reaction of nature.

once upon a time we were lords divine postman in matrimony with nature’s everlasting laws, with an unsatiable desire to explore the whole earth. we saw the greatness of our thought in the glory of the mountain and the abundance of our riches in the roaring sea.

we have rejected the purity of nature and we no longer enjoy the glory of heaven and earth; we are motivated by outward appearances divine postman and forsake the infinite riches within. we choose not sustenance my friend but what is easy. i will take the long way round divine postman.

i will uncover every rock that i find. my life is given to me that i may live and learn what life is. i will not be trapped by dogma my friend, which is living by the results of other people’s thinking. they tell me that iAM a fool for moving by faith and not by sight. i will obey the perfect silence within and never boast of my victory.

divine postman: i do not know if i will see tomorrow my friend; but i will not stumble, i will not fumble my prize. the league between virtue and nature engages all things to assume a hostile front to vice. the beautiful laws and substances of the world persecute and whip the fool.

he finds that things are arranged for truth and benefit. there is no den in the wide world simamkele to hide a selfish heart. when you gather too much and swell your estate, fear will dog your heart. enough with these families simamkele!

can we not adopt the whole of humanity, how many orphans are there? we destroy ourselves as we limit ourselves by worshipping a household. oh! how grand and sublime is the splendor of the human soul.

it seems as if a coat of snow fell on the ground to the mothers and fathers that care only for their kids, such as reveals in the woods the track of every partridge and fox and squirrel and mole.

simamkele: they cannot recall the self-indulgent deeds, they cannot wipe out their greed, so as to leave no inlet or clue. some damning circumstance always transpires divine postman, that will expose the greed of mothers and fathers.

the laws and substances of nature become penalties to them,- holding them accountable. i have travelled a great deal divine postman in my young life, and the great truth i learn is, that life can only change when i change.

nothing can work me damage except myself; the harm that i sustain i carry about with me, and am never a real sufferer but by my own doing. only i can stop the rain divine postman.

none but ourselves divine postman can free our minds. we read what we write. what can we see or acquire but what we are? i have observed a skilful man reading ovid. that author my friend is a thousand books to a thousand persons. take the book into your two hands and read your eyes out, you will never find what i find.

it is the muse in the word that will whisper divine secrets to the devoted poet. if any ingenious reader would have a monopoly of the wisdom or delight he gets, he is as secure now the book is englished, as if it were imprisoned in the greek tongue. reading is a skill that one will learn through consistency.

it is with a good book as it is with good company. introduce a base person to a company of the wise divine postman, it is all to no purpose; he is not their fellow. every society protects itself, as the cult of a family cares only for its own kind. the friendly stranger, is not one of them, though his body is in the room.

divine postman: there is redemption for those that choose to confront death and are willing to lose their life to find it. the mother of gods and men, hera, will smile down on those who chose virtue over materialism simamkele, with a glance that clears the skies and calms the tempest.

they will find joy in her presence all their days delighting in their true inheritance. what avails it to fight with the eternal laws of mind simamkele, which adjust the relation of all persons to each other by the mathematical measure of their havings and beings?

all things in nature simamkele are sustained by mind. the habits of the body translate to the condition that anchors the mind. we can love nothing but nature my friend.

the most wonderful talents, the most meritorious exertions really avail very little with us; but nearness or likeness of nature,- how beautiful is the ease of its victory!

persons approach us, famous for their beauty, their accomplishments, worthy of all wonder for their charms and gifts; they dedicate their whole skill to the hour and the company,- with very imperfect result. when we know the best simamkele, we can never settle for what is ordinary.

simamkele: nature is perfect, there is no chance in her presence. there is absolute order in the universe divine postman. apollo orders all things according to a man’s desire. benefit is the end of nature. our magnificence is in proportion to our obedience to nature’s law.

we foolishly think in our days that we have to court friends and siblings by compliance to the customs of society, to its dress, its breeding, and its estimates.
but only that soul divine postman can be my companion which i encounter on the line of my own march.

that soul which i do not decline and which does not decline to me, but, native of the same celestial latitude, repeats in its own all my experience. the blogger forgets himself and apes the costumes and customs of the man of the world to deserve the smile of beauty, and follows some giddy girl.

not yet taught by nature’s passion to know the divine woman with all that is serene, oracular and beautiful in her soul. let him be great divine postman and love shall follow him. nature will command that he be simple. when he makes room for love, she will mould his mind through obedience to his calling.

nothing is more deeply punished my friend than the neglect of the affinities by which alone society should be formed, and the insane levity of choosing associates by other’s eyes. let us follow the wave of the seasons my friend, obeying the invisible hand of time; in her our glory is found.

in the presence of the sun we will set our own rate. it is a maxim worthy divine postman of all acceptation that a man may have that allowance he takes.

divine postman: we will live according to faith simamkele, not by sight. and believe in the promise of the kingdom that awaits our rule. iAM here to explore the power of my imagination. humility comes before honor simamkele, let us grow in patience and learn to love. and be the wise guide.

all is well that ends well, my friend. we reason from the seen to the unseen. take the place and attitude which belong to you, and all men acquiesce. the world must be just simamkele.

it leaves every man, with profound unconcern, to set his own rate. the true master my friend will create with patience. grace grants all men joy with the work of their hands.

hero or driveller, athena meddles not in the matter. she will certainly accept your own measure of your doing and being. whether you sneak about and deny your own name, or whether you see your work produced to the concave sphere of the heavens, one with the revolution of the stars. she will give you what you put in.

the same reality pervades all teaching simamkele. the man may teach by doing, and not otherwise. if he can communicate himself he can teach, but not by words. he teaches who gives my friend, and he learns who receives. the goal of true learning is to create.

there is no teaching until the pupil is brought into the same state or principle in which you are; a transfusion takes place simamkele; he is you and you are he; then is a teaching, and by no unfriendly chance or bad company can he ever quite lose the benefit. but your propositions run out of one ear as they ran out the other.

in teaching my little brother, he does not listen to what i say when he does not see any meaningful deed that i do. his subconscious simamkele will register the word through the reflection of my noble deed.

simamkele: we see fathers driving in cars divine postman, and telling their children to go to school, that one day they can have the worthless home and all its possessions.

we know that he does not communicate his own character and experience but some old mouldered way of thinking that he adopted through fear of poverty.

runaway from poverty divine postman and it will follow you to your deathbed. pursue pure knowledge and you will always be rich. fathers and mothers have become a gag, an embarassment. they are not upright; but are weak and lose their will in comfort.

there is nothing more potent in the universe than love. it is what moves every mountain. she is the fairest and best. she is forever young divine postman fleeing out of the way of old age. youth and love live and move together, as the proverb says like for like.

love will rule with peace and sweetness, her word is life. she is always tender,- gentle as the waters of the sea. her feet are gracious, for she sets her steps not on what is hard, but on the heads of men. she only treads on what is soft and not upon the skulls of men.

she is most fragile divine postman, as the feet of a newly born chick. she lives in the hearts of both gods and men, which are of all things the softest,- speaking only in secret. she dwells in the heart and soul that receives her with love building a home in the softest of soft places. she nestles always with her tender feet, where there is hardness she departs.

lack of grace and love are always at war with one another. grace is the flexibility and symmetry of love. love enfolds all things divine postman and weaves her way in and out of every soul undiscovered. the fairness of her complexion my friend is revealed by her habitation among the flowers.

love dwells not amid bloomless and fading beauties divine postman, whether of body or soul or aught else, but in the place of flowers and scents, there she sits and abides. love does not act by force my friend, all men, all creatures, all trees, all winds, and all waters serve her of their own free will.

and where there is voluntary agreement, there, as the laws which are the lord’s of the earth say, is justice. no pleasure ever masters love divine postman, she is not only just but exceedingly temperate.

divine postman: she is the master of all pleasures and desires simamkele, and they are her servants. she is the conquering lionness. as to courage even the god of war, mars, is no match for her. love is the queen and mars the captive. the love of venus masters mars. the master is stronger than the servant my friend, none is braver than love.

she is the source of all poetry, and is herself the greatest poet. for she embodies all that is wise and beautiful. and whomever she places her hand upon becomes a poet, even though he had no music in him before. she is the master of all the arts that soothe the sorrow of a broken heart.

she will teach every poet whom she has called with patience, delivering him from all that is base and imparting the divine. love will make gods out of men simamkele. the lovely colors of the peacock is her doing, she creates the seasons and brings the beautiful dawn.

the abundant trees, the never-ending sea, the young goat that leaps for joy is all her doing. she sustains the moon with her wisdom my friend. and as to the artists simamkele, only he whom love inspires has the light of fame. he who is touched by love does not walk in darkness, all things bow down before him.

the arts of medicine and archery and divination were discovered by apollo my friend, under the guidance of love and desire; so that he too is a disciple of love. also the mellody of the muses, the metallurgy of haphaestus, the weaving of athena, the beauty of hera and her empire over gods and men, are all the gifts of love, who conceived them all.

simamkele: love set in order the empire of hera, and the love of beauty. she has no concern for all that is vulgar and selfish divine postman; but will increase the kingdom of all those who desire to give, and create a wonderful world. imagine divine postman all the people living for today, and always believing in the greatness of the human soul.

all that is good in heaven and earth stems from love. she gives peace on earth and calms the raging sea, she stills the winds and bids the sufferer sleep. how far a man has fallen, she will redeem and raise to the heavens above.

love divine postman is all that is pure and natural; forever present to transform the habits of those who yearn for her, and bestowing all that is good to them. she is the cause of all that is fair and empties men of alienation filling them with the desire for intimacy.

love unites all mankind through music, poetry, dance, painting, sculpture, feasts, and conversation. she nods behind the grazing cattle and lives in the laughter of the infant. she gives all men life and takes it as she wills. she is the kiss on the lovers cheek, the hand to always hold giving kindness and courtesy and never unkindness and discourtesy.

she will teach the poet to master his craft moulding his mind through the enduring seasons. love is what gives hope to the broken heart, and anchors the young orphan in wisdom. the friend of the good, the wonder of the wise. the marvel of the gods.

mother of delicacy, simplicity, desire, fondness, softness, grace, fortune; regardful of the good, regardless of the evil, forever present in the footsteps of the poet; in every word, work, dream, fear, she is the saviour.

she is the word that instructs a generation; she is the pilot, comrade, helper; glory of gods and men, the bloom of youth divine postman, leader best and brightest, in whose footspteps let every man follow.

sweetly singing in her honor and joining in that sweet strain divine postman, with which love charms the souls of gods and men. oh! the beauty of the world divine postman, never will it be contained. we found love in the nick of time.