In the same letter the friend told Neville a second dream, in which he felt the top of his head and found his skull split wide open, and woke with an unprecedented feeling of peace and a reversal of his sense of himself.

Neville retells, briefly, Bill Donovan's story of going off to Mexico, imagining the boat safely anchored, nearly drowning, and being rescued by three men in a boat that should not have been in the area — a story he says he told at this same venue the other day.

Neville says he has spoken over the past year of Eddie, a man he does not know personally but almost regards as a friend, who stumbled on the power and is afraid of using it lest he disturb Nature.

A gentleman wrote to Neville describing a vision of attending a concert at the Hollywood Bowl, where a woman beside him asked what was in the sky and, through binoculars, he saw a multicolored parrot-like bird that told him to get out, then came down and touched his face with its wings.

Neville shares a letter a dear friend sent him a few days ago recounting a dream of being at war in a dilapidated farmhouse, in which his squad turned into Neville, who led him to the back of the house to see a vast harvest of wheat and answered his three questions.

In the same letter, the friend described a vision in which Neville stood looking above his head at a perfectly straight tree, three or four years old, growing out of the top of his skull; Neville says he had told him about a week ago that he was born from above without remembering it.

Neville reports what the friend has told him in his letters: that at forty he cannot conceive of hurting anyone, and that he came to a conclusion about who he is.

A woman telephoned him this past week to say she had met Jacob in vision and that he was astonishingly small; Neville told her to read the seventh chapter of Amos.

A lady wrote to him this week describing a dream in which he was an instructor in her old school dormitory teaching everyone to solve puzzles, and asked her 'Do you know what twenty-seven is?'; he answers with the twenty-seven letters of the Hebrew alphabet and tells her to read the 27th Psalm, and answers a second part of her letter about struggling to open her eyes in a dream.

A friend told Neville just before he came on the platform tonight that after practising sincere inward congratulation he was able, this past week, to be genuinely thrilled rather than envious when a saleswoman in his company closed a $50,000 contract.

A friend handed him a letter last Tuesday night, which he read at home before retiring: the friend, having quit his job, lay awake at 5:30 in a drowsy state and heard a lovely voice say that God knew the depth of his soul and that from 100 days to a year he would receive the promise; he wrote it down half-asleep. The friend told Neville that night he had no desire to teach, and Neville said he would teach anyway, in his own way, as Blake did in poetry.

A grandmother's letter, given him last Tuesday night, tells of her three-year-old grandson — a boy Neville himself met last summer — who has two imaginary gray elephants named Mumbo and Jumbo and wept when the car door was shut on them, and who insisted on hearing Neville's record again and again, saying "Neville had a baby" and "Neville loves his baby" and hushing his grandmother because "Neville's talking".