During the first days the habit of earthly hunger often held her, and he tried to appease it by giving her the softer substance which we know here. Gradually she became weaned altogether from the earth and the habits of the earth, only going back occasionally in a dream to her father and mother. Do not disregard your dreams about the dead. They always mean something. They do not always mean what the dream would seem to signify; for the door between the two worlds is very narrow, and thoughts are often shaken out of place in passing through. But dreams about the dead mean something. We can reach you in that way. I came to you in a dream the other night, standing behind and outside the gate of a walled garden in which you were enclosed. I smiled and beckoned you to come out to me; but I did not wish you to come out to stay. I only meant that you should come out in spirit; for if you come out occasionally it is easier for me to go into your world. Good night. LETTER XX THE MAN WHO FOUND GOD THERE seems to be no way in which I can better teach you about this life, so strange to you, than by telling my experiences and conversations with men and women here. I said one night not long ago that I had met more saints than philosophers, and I want to tell you now about a man who seems to be a genuine saint. Yes, there are little saints and great saints, as there are little and great sinners. One day I was walking on a mountain top. I say “walking,” for it seemed about the same, though it takes but little energy to walk here. On the mountain top I saw a man standing alone. He was looking out and far away, but I could not see what he was looking at. He was abstracted and communing with himself, or with some presence of which I was unaware. I waited for some time. At last, drawing a long breath--for we breathe here--he turned his eyes to me and said, with a kind smile: “Can I do anything for you, brother?” I was embarrassed for a moment, feeling that I might have intruded upon some sweet communion. “If I am not too bold in asking,” I said, “would you tell me what you were thinking as you stood there looking into space?” I was conscious of my presumption; but being so determined to learn what can be known, if sometimes I am too bold in making inquiries, I feel that my very earnestness may win for me the forgiveness of those I question. This man had a beautiful beardless face and young-looking eyes; but his garments were the ordinary garments of one who thinks little or nothing of his appearance. That very unconsciousness of the outer form may sometimes give it a peculiar majesty. He looked at me in silence for a moment; then he said: “I was trying to draw near to God.” “And what is God?” I asked; “and where is God?” He smiled. I never saw a smile like his, as he answered: “God is everywhere. God _is_.”