I do not mind saying that my Teacher approves of my trying to tell the world something about the life which follows the change that is called death. If he disapproved, I should bow to his superior wisdom. No, it does not matter what his name is. I have referred to him simply as my Teacher, and have told you many things which he has said and done. Many other things I have not told you, for I can only come occasionally now. After a time I shall probably cease to come altogether. Not that I shall have lost interest in you; but it seems to be the plan that I shall get farther away from the world, to learn things which necessitate for their comprehension a certain loosening of the earthly tie. Later I may return again, for the second time; but I make no promises. I will come if I can, and if it seems wise to come, and if you are in a mood to let me. I do not believe that I shall come through anybody else--at least, not to write letters like this. I should probably have to put such another person through the same training process that I put you through, and few--even of those who were my friends and associates--would trust me to that extent. So, even after I am gone, do not shut the door too tight, in case I should want to come again, for I might have something immensely important to say. But on the other hand, please refrain from calling me; because if you should call me you might draw me away from important work or study somewhere else. I do not say for certain that you could, but it is possible; and when I leave the neighbourhood of the earth of my own accord, I do not wish to be drawn back until I am ready to return. A person still upon the earth may call so intensely to a friend who has passed far away from the earth’s atmosphere, that that soul will come back too soon in response to the eager cry. Do not forget the dead, unless they are strong enough to be happy without your remembrance; but do not lean too heavily upon them. The Masters, of whom I spoke a little while ago, can remain near or far away, as they will; they can respond or not respond: but the ordinary soul is very sensitive to the call of those it loved on earth. I have seen a mother respond eagerly to the tearful prayer of a child, and yet unable to make the lonely one realise her presence. Sometimes the mothers are very sad because they cannot make their presence felt. One time I saw my Teacher by his power help a mother to make herself seen and heard by a daughter who was in great trouble. The heart of my Teacher is very soft to the sufferings of the world; and though he says that he is not one of the Christs, yet he often seems to work as Christ works. At other times he is all mind. He illustrates the saying about the thrice-greatest Hermes Trismegistus--great in body, great in mind, great in heart. I wish I could tell you more about my Teacher, but he does not wish to be too well known on earth. He works for the work’s sake, and not for reward or praise.