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The Sixth Lesson: Within the Mind of the One.799
Mental Conception and Retention in the Infinite Mind. In It they have their
birth, rise, growth, decline and death.
Then what is Real about me, you may ask—surely I have a vivid
consciousness of Reality—is this merely an illusion, or shadow? No, not so!
that sense of Reality which you possess and which every creature or thing
possesses—that sense of “I Am”—is the perception by the Mental Image of
the Reality of its Essence—and that Essence is the Spirit. And that Spirit is the
substance of the Absolute embodied in Its conception, the Mental Image.
It is the perception by the Finite, of its Infinite Essence. Or, the perception
by the Relative of its Absolute Essence. Or, the perception by You, or I, or
any other man or woman, of the Real Self, which underlies all the sham self
or Personality. It is the reflection of the Sun, in the dew-drop, and thousands
of dew-drops—seemingly thousands of Suns, and yet but One. And yet,
that reflection of the Sun in the dewdrop is more than a “reflection,” for it
is the substance of the Sun itself—and yet the Sun shines on high, one and
undivided, yet manifesting in millions of dew-drops. It is only by figures of
speech that we can speak of the Unspeakable Reality.
To make it perhaps plainer to some of you, let us remind you that even
in your finite Mental Images there is evident many forms of life. You may
think of a moving army of thousands of men. And yet the only “I” in these
men is your own “I.” These characters in your mind move and live and have
their being, and yet there is nothing in them except “You!” The characters
of Shakespeare, Dickens, Thackeray, Balzac, and the rest, were such strong
Mental Images that not only their creators were carried away by their power,
and apparent ability, but even you who read of them, many years after,
perhaps, feel the apparent reality, and weep, or smile, or grow angry over
their actions. And, yet there was no Hamlet, outside of Shakespeare’s mind;
no Micawber outside of Dickens; no Pere Goriot outside of Balzac.
These illustrations are but finite examples of the Infinite, but still they will
give you an idea of the truth that we are trying to unfold in your mind. But
you must not imagine that You and I, and all others, and things, are but mere