A friend told Neville this week how, after his father died when he was eight and he spent his life feeling an outsider to the point of suicide, a thunderous voice told him three times over three months 'I took away your father that you might find out who the Father is', the third time changing the pronoun to 'I took away my father'.

Neville recounts the letter an eight-year-old girl, Maylo McAssey, wrote him about dreaming he flew her to France to see the King, who turned out to be Neville himself and who then faded; and the sequel her mother wrote him, in which the grandmother reported that Neville had told the dream from the platform, the mother woke Maylo, and the child said he had appeared to her three times - as a man, as the King, and now as Jesus Christ the Lord, the Son of God - after which the mother trembled for an hour.

Six weeks ago in La Jolla Neville visited a dying dentist friend, explained from his visions that he would not really die but be restored to life and inserted into a suitable time sequence; the man died at fifty-three, and today a friend telephoned and read Neville the widow's letter saying her husband talked of nothing else until he died and was completely unafraid.

A woman telephoned Neville the previous morning to thank him for an imaginal act he had performed on her behalf after she asked him, on the morning of 29 December, to release her from a problem; he had simply imagined that she had called him with the good news.

In San Francisco a woman told Neville her brother had been sentenced to six months hard labor in the Army; on Neville's instruction she imagined hearing the doorbell and finding him free at her door, and a week later he was discharged and arrived exactly so.

Neville retells the story of a fifty-six-year-old woman he wrote about in The Law and The Promise, who, too anxious to concentrate, condensed everything into the mood of a lavish income and slept in it, and afterwards received $2,500, money for a new Plymouth, and a lifelong anonymous deposit arranged through a law office in the city; she told him this in a letter.

A friend of his in Los Angeles, fifty-four and a regular at his meetings for years, felt a wind blowing through him for hours about five months ago, feared a stroke, drove down to Sunset and walked, and on returning home and starting up the steps found the child caught on his head; he cried out 'My God!', would not turn round because he knew the sea of water was behind him, and carried the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes into the room. Four and a half months later the experience returned and David stood before him and called him by his own name — the same thing, Neville says, that has happened to him.

Neville reports his friend's letter comparing his love for the waitress to Neville's love for his daughter Vicki, and speaks of the particular way he loves his own daughter.

Neville speaks of his friend who teaches his audience in the city through the year and takes time off while Neville is there so they are together daily, and retells that friend's story from The Law and the Promise: having imagined and heard himself getting the record he wanted, he was told at the shop 'we do not have it', replied mentally 'That's not what I heard you say', and on his way out the man found the exact album on the shelf.

A friend sent Neville's book Your Faith Is Your Fortune to a professor of physics in Australia, who wrote back at once refusing to read it, offended by the title and by the chapter treating the disciples as psychological states rather than persons.