PS 3507 
 .Y4 V5 
 1915a 
 Copy 1 
 
 I 
 
 tTbe 
 
 leion 
 
 of Bnton 
 
**1KIlbcre tbete ie no Vision, tbe people 
 perisb'' 
 
li 
 
 XLhc 
 
 6ion 
 
 of Hnton 
 
 maalter H, B^ec 
 
 Hbe lb. THa. TICl(l0on Company 
 Tttablte plains, "W. ». 
 
 June, 1915 
 
TS 3507 
 
 •Keptintefe from "Ube IRtcber Xife" witb tbc 
 courteous permfgston of tbe autbor an^ tbc pubs 
 Uebers. (rop«rfgbtc^, 1914 b? 'Z,hc pllarim Drcaa. 
 
 fseueb in tbis form vpitb acfinovoledaments 
 to tbe £Mtor0 of Ubc Craftsman, to Doublcba^, 
 paae an^ Company, and to tbe JSrotbcrs of tbe 
 Soob. 
 
 Publisher 
 
of Hnton 
 
 ©NCE upon a time there lived a 
 near-sighted and obscure clock- 
 maker in an ancient town in 
 Flanders. It was in fourteen hundred 
 and something, at about the time when 
 new continents were being discovered, 
 and old continents were being ran- 
 sacked for whatever might serve to 
 enrich the life of Europe. We call it 
 the period of the Renaissance, and this 
 is the story of the Renaissance of 
 Anton, the Flemish clock-maker. 
 
HNTON was apprentice to an old 
 craftsman who made clocks to 
 help very rich people to know the time, 
 of day. No one but the rich could 
 afford to buy clocks in those days, so 
 the old clock-maker needed but one 
 assistant. They were crude clocks 
 with but one hand, but they served the 
 purpose. Anton, however, had a soul 
 in his body, and he became very tired 
 of bending eternally over his work 
 bench, making one-handed clocks for 
 people he didn't know. His was a 
 restless sort of soul, but a starved one, 
 and it didn't know how to show Anton 
 the way to better things. 
 
 So Anton decided to find out for 
 himself. As he went about the streets 
 of a Sunday he heard of the good gray 
 monks that lived beyond the hill. He 
 was told that they were wise and kind, 
 and that they made sure their entrance 
 into Heaven by many prayers and 
 
much fasting. They were so good that 
 they had time enough left from their 
 prayers to engage in scholarly pur- 
 suits. In short, they lived an ideal kind 
 of existence and one that Anton thought 
 would satisfy the cravings of his soul. 
 So one day Anton left the old clock- 
 maker and journeyed over the hill to 
 the monastery of the good gray monks. 
 They took him in as a lay brother and 
 set him to weeding the garden; but 
 soon they learned that he was skilled 
 with tools, and they gave him the task 
 of building the new altar in the chapel. 
 When the altar was nearly finished 
 the abbot of the monastery came to 
 Anton and said : "My son, I perceive 
 that thou hast much cunning. Canst 
 thou carve a legend for the front of the 
 altar?" 
 
 "I can, Father," said Anton. 
 So the abbot sought for a legend 
 that would fit the space on the front of 
 
the altar, and after much searching he 
 brought to Anton this : 
 
 "Where there is no Vision, the peo- 
 ple perish." 
 
 Anton accordingly selected a piece of 
 hard, close-grained oak, and began to 
 carve the legend. Now Anton possessed 
 enough of the craftsman's soul to make 
 him strive to carve the legend well, and 
 he spent many days and took infinite 
 pains. And as he worked he said the 
 words over and over to himself: 
 
 "Where there is no Vision, the peo- 
 ple perish." 
 
 He found himself wondering what 
 these words meant, and as he carved 
 his perplexity grew upon him. At last 
 he could contain himself no longer, and 
 he went to the abbot. "Holy Father," 
 said he, "I am much troubled to know 
 the meaning of the words thou hast 
 given me to carve." 
 
 Now the abbot had selected the 
 
legend without great thought. It 
 sounded well, and it was the right 
 length. So he made answer lightly. 
 **Those, my son, are the words of a 
 Wise Man of old. They refer to that 
 divine guidance which saves men's 
 souls, and which comes only through 
 prayer and fasting." 
 
 But Anton had prayed and fasted, 
 and no Vision had come to him. 
 
 He asked his brother monks to ex- 
 plain the words to him, but they could 
 not satisfy him, and Anton nearly went 
 mad in the endeavour to understand. 
 
 When the carving was complete and 
 the altar finished, Anton found no more 
 work that interested him. He looked 
 about him, and saw the monks feast- 
 ing and fasting, praying and working, 
 but he could not discover to what 
 purpose. 
 
 '•If it be true that without a Vision 
 the people perish," he said to himself, 
 
"shall we not all perish? Not even the 
 good gray monks have a Vision. They 
 know not what a Vision is." 
 
 So gradually he became dissatisfied 
 with the monotonous life of the good 
 gray monks, and their tiresome pray- 
 ers and fastings to save their souls, 
 until at last he could stand it no longer, 
 and, never having taken the vows, he 
 left the monastery. It was then that 
 he bethought himself of the old clock- 
 maker for whom he had worked in the 
 town. He remembered how wise he 
 was, and he sought the familiar shop. 
 The old clock-maker was glad of the 
 return of so good a workman, and 
 received him joyfully. Then Anton told 
 his story — how he had longed for some- 
 thing to satisfy his soul, how he had 
 failed to find it even among the good 
 gray monks, and how the words of the 
 legend had perplexed him. 
 
 Then spake the wise old clock-maker. 
 
**A Vision," quoth he, "is something 
 good and lofty and desirable which the 
 soul may see, and having not, may 
 reach forth to obtain. Without a 
 Vision the body may live, but the soul 
 is starved. It is death in life. Men may 
 eat, and drink, and sleep, and laugh, 
 and work, and quarrel, and beget chil- 
 dren, and die, but all to no purpose. 
 They might as well die in the first 
 place, and so the Wise Man saith, 
 'Without a Vision, the people perish.' " 
 
 "And what may I do to get a Vision, 
 that I may live?" asked Anton. "He 
 that seeketh, findeth," replied the 
 clock-maker. 
 
 "Where shall I seek?" asked Anton. 
 "At thine own work bench," was the 
 answer. "Thou hast been to the mon- 
 astery of the good gray monks and 
 found no Vision there. Thou may'st 
 travel the world over, and no Vision 
 will reward thy search. Look within 
 
thy heart, Anton, even into its hidden 
 corners. Whatsoever thou findest that 
 is good and worthy, examine it. Thus 
 wilt thou find thy Vision. Do thy 
 daily work, Anton, and let thy Vision 
 find thee working. Then shalt thou be 
 ready to receive it, and the meaning of 
 thy life and work will be made clear 
 to thee." 
 
 Anton marvelled at the words of the 
 wise old man, and pondered them in 
 his heart as he went back to work at 
 his bench. And every day he talked 
 with the old clock-maker, and strove 
 to learn, until at last the light broke 
 in upon him, and he understood. For 
 the meaning of the legend appears 
 only through much thought and self- 
 examination. 
 
 A day came when the old clock- 
 maker arose no more from his bed, and 
 Anton took his place as master of the 
 shop. "Now," he said, "I will see if I 
 
can find a way to work with a Vision, 
 for I know it is better than to work 
 without one." 
 
 Every Sunday he went through the 
 market place and talked with his 
 fellow-townsmen. He found that there 
 were many things good and lofty and 
 desirable that were lacking in their 
 lives, but he could discover no way to 
 supply them. His soul was reaching 
 forth, but it had not yet laid hold on a 
 Vision. 
 
 One day in his shop, however, a 
 Vision came to him. It was a little 
 Vision, to be sure, but it was a begin- 
 ning. 
 
 "I cannot give bread to all the poor, 
 or bring happiness to the miserable," 
 he said. "I know only how to make 
 clocks. So I will make a clock for the 
 people, that they may have what only 
 the rich may buy." 
 
 So he set to work and built a huge 
 
clock, with two hands, like one he had 
 seen that came from the South. Its 
 face was two cubits across, and it was 
 fashioned to run in all weathers. Be- 
 neath the face he carved and painted a 
 legend : 
 
 "Where there is no Vision, the peo- 
 ple perish." 
 
 In twelve months the clock was 
 done, and he received permission to 
 place it on the tower in the market 
 place, where all men might see it and 
 read the time of day. Many came and 
 saw, and learned to tell the time from 
 the figures on the dial, and the clock 
 became famous throughout Flanders. 
 
 But there were many in the country- 
 side who seldom came to the town, and 
 so never were benefited by the clock, 
 and it occurred to Anton one day that 
 the reason for this was that the roads 
 were so poor. He was now a man of 
 substance and influence in the town, so 
 
he went to the burgomaster and told 
 him that he would like to build better 
 roads for the country people to use in 
 coming to town. It took him a long 
 time to make the fat burgomaster see 
 this Vision, but at last he succeeded, 
 and the upshot of the matter was that 
 in a few years there were fine, smooth 
 roads running in all directions. 
 
 Anton's fame spread throughout 
 Flanders, and to make a long story 
 short, the king at last sent for him and 
 made him a counsellor at the royal 
 palace. This gave him a chance to 
 broaden his Vision. He saw a greater 
 and a happier Flanders, with the people 
 prosperous in trade and industry and 
 art, and when he died, full of years and 
 honour, he left Flanders a better place 
 because of his Vision. 
 
LIBRPRY OF CONGRESS 
 
 ■ 
 
 015 906 747 6 t