was God?, I noticed a peculiar stillness in the air. It seemed not a leaf stirred, not a flower nodded. As I stood and listened, a faint sound seemed to come from the far distance. The pipes of Pan? Or was it the winding of a hunting horn? Could it be Krishna's flute? The music grew and swelled. . .the air was now vibrating with heavenly chords. The only music on earth that faintly resembled it was that of Wagner in his most ecstatic moments . . . chords of celestial harmonies, an angelic orchestra, deep rolling notes of a cosmic organ, high wind instruments with tones of colour and beauty unsurpassed by anything on earth. As the music soared I stood caught up in a mystic vortex of harmonics which did not belong to this world, in a bliss entrancing and divine. So this was the answer to my question, What is God!

It was time to retrace my steps and go back to my hotel; as I did the music followed me, growing fainter and fainter till all that was left of it was the high fluting of the pipes. That night in the quiet of my bedroom I remembered the words, "This is not Reality." Something had happened outside the material world of forms. So this was the answer to my query—that God was Harmony!

According to esoteric literature and teachings, the entire world is a musical instrument and the purpose of the seven great spiritual Planes or Spheres which man has to ascend before he achieves Self-Knowledge and Union with God, is to feel the Divine Pattern or Rhythm of the universe, which again is dependent on the vibrational quality and power of the Cosmic Tone. This again depends on the mind of man. Meher Baba has said. "One who really hears the Music of God in his heart—this is the wonderful music, for it is the original music—loses his bodily consciousness and sees God." But I had only the merest glimpse.

Now I will speak of my dreams looking into the future. The year 1937 was an anxious one. The threat of another World War was in the air. One night I had the following dream regarding the import of our future. I and a relative were standing outside our home looking up into the sky above a London park. Away up in the blue heavens above we saw an enormous angry-looking storm cloud, massed in cumulative waves above us. Out of it pointed the long black muzzles of four great guns, two to the East, and two to the West. I thought, "This means war," and in great distress I began to cry, for had we not come through the First World War. So now it meant we were to have another war. Then a voice spoke, saying, “God