Third Drop--"Bosh and nonsense. There is no ocean. It is all
superstition. Before we were born here, from the mist, what were
we? When we evaporate in a few minutes what becomes of us? You
two drops make me feel sorry for you. I know that when I cease
reflecting that white cloud up there, that ends ME. I have no
delusions about oceans or going back to anything." ----

You know what happened. The cloud formed into rain and our three
drops were washed into a tiny trickling stream. The thin stream
of rain ran into a brook, the brook into a river. Soon the three
drops were back in the ocean--possibly without knowing it.

Shall we some day go rolling back to the ocean of cosmic wisdom
whence we came?

Is it possible that man is indeed made in the image of God, as
drops are made in the ocean's image--the individual men, like the
individual drops, being sent forth to do necessary cosmic work
through the universe, going back to the ocean after each errand
is done, and so going back and forth, forever and ever?

That would not be such a mean destiny, we should say. It would
certainly be a very democratic form of cosmic government. ----

Inferior men, inferior women, unworthy of comparison with
perfect, cosmic wisdom?

Not at all. Not inferior men and women, but inferior mediums,
inferior brains, bodies and planets through which to work.