THIS is an attempt to prove to you who read that what you think is yourself is an illusion, and has no actual existence except as a concept and belief in your mind.

As you know, it would be an easy matter to gather together a considerable number of tiny seeds, each of a different kind, that would look so nearly alike that it would be difficult to tell one from another—not to speak of telling what kind was each individual seed. Yet you know that if each seed was planted in the proper soil, kept cultivated and watered and given plenty of sunshine, it would grow up into that which was its destiny to be—a particular kind of grass, shrub, weed, flower, bush or tree.

For in each one of these seeds in some mysterious way is confined both the idea—the “image and likeness”—of what is to be the destiny of that seed, and the life essence that will grow, direct, shape and perfect its destiny. Likewise,