“What is He?” I persisted; and again he repeated, but with a different emphasis: “_God_ is.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “God _is_, _God_ is,” he said. I do not know how his meaning was conveyed to me, perhaps by sympathy; but it suddenly flashed into my mind that when he said, “God _is_,” he expressed the completest realisation of God which is possible to the spirit; and when he said, “_God_ is,” he meant me to understand that there was no being, nothing that is, except God. There must have been in my face a reflection of what I felt, for the saint then said to me: “Do you not also know that He _is_, and that all that is, is He?” “I am beginning to feel what you mean,” I answered, “though I doubtless feel but a little of it.” He smiled, and made no reply; but my mind was full of questions. “When you were on earth,” I said, “did you think much about God?” “Always. I thought of little else. I sought Him everywhere, but seemed only at times to get flashes of consciousness as to what He really was. Sometimes when praying, for I prayed much, there would come to me suddenly the question, ‘To what are you praying?’ And I would answer aloud, ‘To God, to God!’ But though I prayed to Him every day for years, only occasionally did I get a flash of that true consciousness of God. Finally, one day when I was alone in the woods, there came the great revelation. It came not in any form of words, but rather in a wordless and formless wonder, too vast for the limitation of thought. I fell upon the ground and must have lost consciousness, for after a while--how long a time I do not know--I awoke, and got up and looked about me. Then gradually I remembered the experience which had been too big for me while I was feeling it. “I could put into the form of words the realisation which had been too much for my mortality to bear, and the words I used to myself were, ‘All that is, is God.’ It seemed very simple, yet it was far from simple. ‘All that is, is God.’ That must include me and all my fellow beings, human and animal; even the trees and the birds and the rivers must be a part of God, if God were all that is. “From that moment life assumed a new meaning for me. I could not see a human face without remembering the revelation--that that human being I saw was a part of God. When my dog looked at me, I said to him aloud, ‘You are a part of God.’ When I stood beside a river and listened to the sound of its waters, I said to myself, ‘I am listening to the voice of God.’ When a fellow being was angry with me, I asked myself, ‘In what way have I offended God?’ When one spoke lovingly to me, I said, ‘God is loving me now,’ and the realisation nearly took my breath away. Life became unbelievably beautiful.