a man should
devote all the power of his brain to making the divine oracle clear,
and that the apostle Paul had spoken of a great diversity of gifts
which could be used faithfully in the service of Christ. Still, he
reflected that the truest glimpse into the unknown that he had ever
received--for he doubted no longer of the truth of the vision--had
come to him from one that was, he thought, outside the mercies of God,
an unhallowed soul, shut off by his own will and by his wickedness
from the fold; and this was a sore burden to him.

At last the book was done; and he went with it to a friend he had at
Oxford, a mighty scholar, to talk over some difficult passages. The
opinion of the scholar had been cordial and encouraging; he had said
that the book was a very great and sound work, useful for doctrine and
exhortation, and that many men had given their whole lives to work
without achieving such a result. Gilbert had some of the happiness
which comes to one who has completed a lengthy task; and though the
time drew nigh at which he might expect a further fulfilment of the
vision, he was so filled with gratitude at the thought of the great
work he had done, that there was little fear or expectation in his
mind.

He returned one summer afternoon to Cambridge, and the porter told
him that the Master and several of the Fellows were in the garden, and
would fain see him on his arrival. So Gilbert, carrying a little
bundle which contained his precious book, went out there at once. The
Master had caused to be made a new sundial, which he had affixed in
such a way to the wall that those whose chambers gave on the garden
could read the time of day without waiting to hear the bells.

When Gilbert came out he saw the little group of Fellows standing by
the wall, while the Master with a staff pointed out the legend on the
dial, which said that the only hours it told were the hours of
sunshine. It came upon Gilbert in a moment that this was the second
vision, and though two or three of the group saw him and turned to him
with pleasant greetings, he stood for a moment lost in the strangeness
of the thing. One of them said, "He stands amazed at the novelty of
the design;" and as he said the words, an old gray cat that belonged
to the College, and lodged somewhere in the roofs, sprang from a bush
and ran past him. One of the Fellows said, "Aha, cats do not love
change!" and then Gilbert came forward, and greeted his friends; but
ther