VTK&tet' <7 THE LIFE SUIT FKAICIS OF ASSIST; SKETCH OF THE FRANCISCAN ORDER, BY A RELIGIOUS OF THE ORDER OF POOR CLARES. WITH EMENDATIONS AND ADDITIONS, BY VERY KEY. PAMFILO DA MAGLIANO, O.S.F. PUBLISHED WITH THE APPEOBATION OP llefrmnb |o(jn SUCloskeg, g . NEW YORK: P. O'SHEA, 27 BARCLAY STREET. 1867. 13*4700 ~kL6"* Xs Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by P. O'SHEA, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern District of New York. Bancroft Litany THIS AMERICAN EDITION OF ST. FRANCIS AND THE FRANCISCANS, IS DEVOUTLY DEDICATED TO THE LATELY CANONIZED FRANCISCAN SAINTS : NICHOLAS PICKIUS, JEROME WERDTEN, JULIAN DAMOS, NICASIUS STESIUS, THEODORIC EINDEM, ANTHONY VEER- TEN, GODFREY VERUELLANUS, FRANCIS BRUXEL- LENSIAN, ANTHONY ORNANIENSIAN, (Priests ;) and PETER ASCANIUS, (Lay-Brother;) with CORNELIUS BATAUADUR, (Tertiary,) Martyrs of Gorcum; LEONARD DA PORTO-MAURIZIO, Apos- tolic Missionary ; and MARY FRANCES OF THE FIVE WOUNDS, Virgin of the Third Order. , 1867, % famttmnm of St. $cter HH& St. PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. THE author of ST. FRANCIS AND THE FRANCISCANS declares, in the beginning of the second part, that the work was intended principally for the English public, in England and Ireland ; and therefore the account of the Order given there, relates, in a great measure, to these two countries. In this American Edition we have thought it proper to make some improvements in what relates to the Franciscan Order in America. We have, however, revised and supplied whatever else we deemed more important. The authorities which we have consulted for this purpose are, Torquemada, Monarquia Indiana; P. Da Civezza, Storia delle Missioni Francescane, and Cronaca delle Missioni Francescane; P. Sigismondo da Venezia, Biografia Serajica; P. D'Osimo, Co- lombo e P. Giovanni Perez, and Storia de* Martiri Giapponesi ; Darras, History of the Church; Da Latera, Manuale de* Frati Minori; Henrion, History of the Missions; Annales Minorum; Andres, /Storia di ogni Letteratura; Hennepin, Shea, De Courcey, and others. ADVEKTISEMENT TO LONDON EDITION. To avoid interrupting the text with frequent foot- notes, it is thought better to give in one place the names of the authorities used in preparing this volume. The same opportunity is taken to thank several clergymen, whose kindness in lending books of reference will be ever gratefully remembered. For the Life of St. Francis, the Histoire de St. Fran9ois d'Assise, by M. Chevin cle Malin; the Chronicles of the Order in French and English, the latter a translation from the Spanish of John Parent ; the Fioretti; and the Antwerp edition (1613) of the Historia Seraphica, by F. Henrico Sedulio, have been principally used. For the History of the Order, Heylot's History of Eeligious Orders ; the Certamen Seraphicum, by F. Angeli a S. Francisco ; the Collectanea Anglo-Minoritica, by A. P. (Father Antony Parkinson) ; the Ecclesiastical History of Ireland, by Kev. M. J. Brennan, O. S. F ; "Ware's Works, by Harris; the Monasticon Hibernicum; Archdall ; Challoner's Missionary Priests ; Shea's Catholic Missions ; with some other works of less note, and private manuscripts, belonging to reli- gious houses of the Order. NEWET, Feast of the Stigmata of St. Francis, 1861. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. The birth and early days of the Saint. His gaiety of disposition. Joins an expedition against Perugia. Is taken prisoner. ... 17 CHAPTER n. Francis returns to Assisi. Enlists against the Emperor. An interior voice calls him. He has a vision of Jesus crucified. Receives a divine command. Sells goods from his father's stores. Becomes an object of contempt in Assisi. Endures persecution from his father. Is cited before the magistrates, then before the Bishop. Renounces ah 1 worldly possessions. . 22 CHAPTER m. Francis devotes himself to lepers. Service to lepers a devotion of the middle ages. He effects many miraculous cures. Re- pairs three churches, as symbolical of his three Orders. Practices poverty. His reply to his brother Angelo 31 CHAPTER IV. Francis espouses Poverty. Renounces money, and goes bare- foot. Giotto, Dante, Bossuet. Disciples come to Francis With two others, he goes to reside at Rivo Torto. Some no- tice of the twelve first members of the Order . . > 42 CHAPTER Y. At the prayer of the Saint, his disciples return to their mission. The Novitiate at Rivotorto. Trials and fervor of the Nov- ices. Francis proposes a mile for them. Solicits the approba- tion of the Holy See. Innocent the Third. The Cardinal Paoli. Cardinal Ugolini. The Pope's dream. The Parable of Francis. He obtains ah 1 he desires. Promises obedience to the Sovereign Pontiff Receives the vows of his children. They return home. A miracle occurs by the way. New disciples crowd around him. He obtains the chapel of St. Mary of the Angels. The Benedictines the first patrons of the Order 53 CHAPTER VI. Francis invites postulants to join his Order. A short account of several of his early disciples. Brother Leo, his friend and confessor. Brother Rtifinus. Masseo di Marignano. Bro- ther Juniper. Brother Simeon. Brother Christopher. He desires his disciple, who is familiar with his guardian angel, to ascertain his state before God. Brother William, the Eng- lishman. Brother Peregrinus of Falcron. Brother Philip the Long, first confessor to the Poor Clares. Brother Giles, or Egidius " 63 VU1 CONTENTS. CHAPTER VIE. Francis founds the Second Order. The vocation of St. Clare. Her holy childhood. She attends the preaching of Francis during the Lent of 1212. Palm Sunday at Assisi. Clare leaves her father's house forever. Is followed by her younger sister Agnes. The auger of the Count de Scefi. Miracles confirm her vocation. Her character as Abbess 83 CHAPTER Yin. Death of the Count de Scefi. Agnes founds a convent at Flo- rence. The poverty of the Poor Clares. Then: holy rule is drawn up by the Cardinal Protector and St. Francis. Bread and oil miraculously multiplied by the prayers of St. Clare. She works many miracles by the Sign of the Cross. Blesses bread by order of the Pope. Delivers her monastery and the town of Assisi, twice from the armies of the impious Fred- eric. She receives a spiritual favor on the Feast of the Na- tivity and on Maunday-Thursday. Her death. Agnes' visit. Poor Clares who lived in the same century 92 CHAPTER IX. Francis consults St. Clare and Brother Sylvester regarding his vocation. Both receive the same answer from God. He goes forth to preach. Restores sight to a blind girl at Bevag- na. Goes to Rome to ask permission to evangelize the East. Obliged to return to St. Mary of the Angels. A miracle occurs on his homeward voyage. The vocation of Brother Pacificus, the "prince of Poets." The illness of the Saint. His public penance. A rich postulant. How Francis tries the vocation of his novices. Brother Rufinus sees the throne prepared for him amid the highest Seraphim. He tests his holy father's humility. His vision confirmed by a revelation made to the Bless*d M. M. Alacoque 110 CHAPTER X. His sickness returns. His letters to the faithful. His canticle of the Sun. It causes a reconciliation between the Bishop of Assisi and the governor. Paraphrase on the Lord's Prayer. His letter to the Priests of his Order. Thanksgiving on the confirmation of his Rule. The Gloria Patri 118 CHAPTER XI. The Saint again seeks a martyr's crown. The Bishop of Terni. Miracles. Mount Alverma. Imola. A miraculous escape. Organo. Hospitality to the friars rewarded. The consent of Compostella. Cotolai 127 CHAPTER XTI. Francis is desired to return to Italy. Perpignan. St. Mary of the Angels. He objects to a new building, as being too large and commodious. Sets out for Alyernia. Assaulted by de- mons on the way. Receives with joy the advice of a poor man.' O&uttons his friars not to depend too much on the cha- ity of the rich. Addresses them in the evening on Mount Alverma 134 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XTII. His prediction at Fabriano. A new monastery under the pa- tronage of our Lady. The Curate of La Citta Thirty new postulants. Francis at the Lateran Council. His Rule ia publicly confirmed, and its former approbation declared. Re- turns to Assisi. First genera! chapter at St Mary of the An- gels. The Provincial Ministers empowered to receive postu- lants. Dispersion of the Brethren. Meeting of Dominic and Francis. Letter addressed to both Orders by B. Humbert and St. Bonaventura 139 CHAPTER XIV. The Saint at Florence. Cardinal Ugolini. A mysterious dream. He preaches before the Pope. Seeks a Protector for his Order. Cardinal Ugoliui confirmed in this office. His attach- ment to the Saint and to the Order 146 CHAPTER XV. The Second general chapter. A Mass ordered to be celebrated every Saturday in honor of Mary Immaculate. Letter of Honoring i the Third. The devils also hold a chapter. Francis wishes his children not to receive episcopal dignities 149 CHAPTER XVI. Dispersion of the brethren. Benedict is sent to Greece, John Parent to Spain, Angelo of Pisa to England. St. Francis sets out on his mission to the East. Elia.s made Superior in his absence. Brother Fly. Asks a child to choose who shall go with him to Morocco. The Crusaders. Francis warns them of defeat. Enters the Moorish Camp. Offers to prove his mission by entering a burning pile. The Order estab- lished in Palestine. Letter of de Vitry. The Benedictines of the Black Mountains 156 CHAPTER XVH. Francis at Bologna. Crowds flock round him. A testimonial of his sanctity and eloquence still on record. Bernard da Quintavalle founder of this mission. Nicolas of Pepulis. State of the Church at this period. The necessity for au- thorized preachers. How it was that the friars effected so much by their missions 164 CHAPTER XVHI. John de Strachia. His disobedience and unhappy end. Brother Elias. His worldliness. He appears more strict than Francis. He censures the Saint. His concealed efforts to relax the Order. An Angel's visit 16 CHAPTER XIX. The first martyrs of the Order. Brother Berrardi and his companions. Death of Brother Vital. Queen Uracca. The Princess Sanchia. Seville. -^Morocco. Don Pedro. The Friars are sent out of Morocco, but contrive to return again. X CONTEXTS. Given into the care of a Christian Prince. They save his army from perishing of drought.- -Imprisoned again, and left for twenty days without food. Their cruel martyrdom. They appear to the Spanish Princess. The joy of Francis that he now has five true Friars. Other Martyrs of tho Order 174 CHAPTER XX. St. Antony of Padua. His mother's tomh. Enters amongst the Regular Canons of St. Austin. Receives a vocation to the Franciscan Order. Attends a general chapter. His resi- dence at Bologna. Is given an obedience to preach. His talents are discovered. Miracles. His love of peace. Be- holds the Infant Jesus. His devotion to our Lady. His death. St. Bonaventura's opinion of his sanctity 184 CHAPTER XXI. Foundation of the Third Order. The Merchant Luchesio, the first Tertiary. His wife, Bona Donna, is converted by a mira- cle. The Tertiaries increase rapidly. Letter from Pierre de Veneis to the Emperor Frederic. The influence of the Ter- tiaries felt in the German court 201 CHAPTER XXII. The celebrated Indulgence of the Porziuncola Given by our Divine Lord Himself. Confirmed by Honorius the Third. Miracles attest its authenticity. St. Frances of Rome. St. Bridget. The crowds who assembled to obtain it 206 CHAPTER XXIII. Francis is warned by a vision to re-write his Rule. He retires for this purpose to Mount Columba. He returns to St. Mary's. Confides the Rule to Elias. It is lost or destroyed by him. The Saint again writes it. Opposition silenced by a mira- cle. The Rule confirmed by Honorius the Third. Poverty strictly enjoined. Also fraternal charity. The Saint declares he was inspired to write it. Confirmation of his statement by Pope Nicholas the Third and St. Bridget 215 CHAPTER XXIV. How the Saint kept Christmas at Grecip. He obtains leave from the Holy See to have a representation of the Nativity. The first Crib. St. Francis has a vision of the Infant Jesus at Mass. He reproves his friars for a departure from their strict poverty on festivals 222 CHAPTER XXV. The power which the Saint possessed over animals. He is followed by a lamb at Rome, and at St. Mary of the Angels. His sermon to the birds. Receives doves from a young man who afterwards enters the Order. When preaching at Alviano he desires some swallows to be silent. Makes a treaty with a wolf at Gubbio. Converts a robber on Mount Alvernia 225 CONTENTS. XI CHAPTER XXVL PA d. Meanwhile, Peter Bernardone, who had been on a journey, found on his return that his son had quitted the paternal mansion, and, what was worse, had con- verted some of his precious merchandise into money. Bernardone was probably not more avaricious than his neighbors. He was simply what the world calls a sensible man, and objected to making investments where there was no prospect of a speedy return. In the excitement of passion on discovering his loss, he 30 THE LIFE OF never considered liis son's right to a share of the goods as partner in his business. Stormy scenes followed. The indignation of Bernardone knew no bounds, and accompanied by a party of friends, he proceeded to St. Damian's, vowing condign vengeance on his son, but above all eager to recover the value of his merchandise. Francis, unused to such conflicts, deemed it most pru- dent to avoid an interview with his father; and when the angry party approached the house he hid himself in the priest's room. Here he would have been dis- covered, but for a miraculous interposition of Provi- dence, which is related by Wadding as well authenti- cated. When his father entered in search of him, he hid behind the door, he would soon have been seen there, had not an opening been made miraculously in the wall, in which he was concealed until Bernardone left the house. Immediately after this occurrence Francis fled to a cave, known only to a servant, who supplied him with the necessaries of life. Here he passed his time in fervent prayer, preparing himself thus for the severe conflicts which he foresaw he must soon encounter, and receiving an abundance of heavenly lights and supernatural graces, by which he was consoled and fortified. Having passed a month in this place, he began to consider that, however great his internal weakness, he should place his confidence in God, and go on his way with courage. He therefore returned once more to Assisi. Beproaches, revilings, insults and mockery were his portion. Indeed, his wan coun- tenance and disordered garb might have justified the general supposition that the once gay and gallant Flower of Assisi had lost his mind. Francis rejoiced exceedingly at the treatment he received. To be called a fool, nay, more, to be thought SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSIST. 31 such, was now his highest ambition. There was a brighter sunshine in his breast than ever before, even in those bright days when he ruled the joyous convivial bands in his native town. Meanwhile, Bernardone was informed of his son's return, of the current opinion regarding him, and of his newly adopted mode of life. Indignation, which sought to relieve itself by acts of violence, fired his breast. Forgetting even the respect due to himself, he fell on his son, beat him severely, and with unmeasured reproaches, dragged him to his house, and locked him up safely in a dark hole under the staircase. Poverty and humiliation were as little fashionable in the thirteenth century as in our own, and we can scarcely be surprised at the indignation of a father who considered his family thus disgraced. In vain did Bernardone endeavor to move his son; angry threats and gentle words were alike unheeded, and Francis remained a prisoner till his father's absence on a journey enabled the gentle Pica to release her child. And now the generous confessor was called to endure a harder struggle, to gain a more glorious victory. The music of a mother's voice, the softening tenderness of a mother's fondest caress, the winning smile, the meek heart-broken entreaty, were not spared, and the affectionate heart of Francis needed all the grace he had received to bear up against the strong influence of maternal love. When Bernardone returned he found his son had been released, and had taken shelter once more at St. Damian's. Venting his indignation on his wife in no measured terms, he again sought out Francis, who this time presented himself boldly before his father. He cared not, he said, for stripes or imprisonment; suffer- ings were now his joy for the love of Jesus Christ. Finding the case hopeless, Bernardone consoled 32 THE LITE OF himself by recovering the money of which he considered he had been defrauded, and which he found in the window where Francis had thrown it. Still, his avarice was not satisfied; he imagined there must be more in reserve, and cited his son before the magistrates. When Francis received the summons, he exclaimed, " Thanks be to God, I have entered into the full liberty of His servants; I have nothing to do with magistrates." They seem to have admired the courage and resolution of the young man, and referred the matter to the eccle- siastical authorities, saying to Bernardone, " Since he has entered the service of God, he is no longer under our authority." Vido Secundi was at this time bishop of Assisi; he was a prelate of holy life and great wisdom, and Fran- cis was well pleased that the matter should be left to his decision. Whether the Saint had previously had any spiritual communication with him is doubtful; at all events, the bishop was one who could appreciate an heroic zeal for the divine service. He sent for Francis, who exclaimed, " I will go willingly to the Lord Bishop, who is the father and master of souls." The holy prelate received him kindly, and said to him, " Your father is greatly incensed against you. If you desire to serve God, return him the money which you have; perhaps it has been unjustly obtained. God does not desire that you should use in His service what might serve to calm your father's anger. My son, have confidence in God; act openly, and fear nothing. He . will be your protector, and will supply you with all that is needed for the good of His Church." Francis immediately arose, and, burning with a heavenly in- spiration, he exclaimed, " My lord, I will give him all that is his, even my very clothes." Then casting off his garments, and retaining only his hair shirt, he laid SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSIST. 33 them at his father's feet, crying out, " Peter Bernar- done, until now I have called you my father; hence- forth I can truly say, Our Father who art in heaven ! for He is my wealth, and in Him do I place all my hope." The spectators and the venerable bishop were moved to tears. Covering him with his own mantle, the saintly prelate pressed him to his heart, and assured him of his continual love and protection. An old gar- ment, which had been worn by a laborer in the bishop's service, was brought, and Francis clothed himself in it with joy, first making a large cross on it with some mortar that was at hand. It was in the year 1206, and in the twenty-fifth year of his age, that he thus pro- claimed himself the lover, and commenced as the apos- tle, of poverty. O brave, O noble Francis ! Hast thou courage to despise all, to be stripped of all ? Wilt thou no longer have friends or country, kindred or estate ? Hast thou forgotten all earthly love, and wilt thou sever all earthly ties? "Where are the tears of Pica and her gentle words ? where the yearnings of thine own loving heart, and thy bright dreams of worldly honor and military renown ? Are all forsaken, all despised ? Art thou willing to become the scorn of all, to be despoiled of all the world esteems ? Well may it count thee for a fool, and esteem thy life madness ! Thou carest not; the Crucified has turned on thee one burning glance of love; thou hast seen Him forsaken by all, and dying naked on Calvary; and thou wilt follow Him, brave Francis ! Truly thy reward is sure, though not the hope of reward, but the ardent fire of love, stimulates thee on. Noble Saint, noble because of thy poverty, noble because of thine ignominies ! Alvemia and the stigmata await thee, and thy heart's deep longing shall 2* 34 THE LITE OF be satisfied; for as thou hast been like to Jesus in His birth, so shalt thou be like to Jesus in His life and in His sufferings. CHAPTER IH Francis devotes himself to lepers. Service to lepers a devotion of the middle ages. He effects many miraculous cures. Repairs three churches, as symbolical of his three orders. Practises poverty. His reply to his brother Angelo. Having freed himself from all earthly ties, Francis was now able to follow, without reserve, those divine impulses which were leading him gently, but surely, to the attainment of the most exalted sanctity. He was now, in the words of Bourdaloue, " an evangelical poor one, and a disinterested poor one;" it yet only re- mained for him to attain the perfect consummation of all his desires, and become " a crucified poor one." With a joyous heart, he hastened into the woods and other solitary places near Assisi, that he might en- joy more intimate and undisturbed converse with his Beloved. One day, while engaged in singing the praises of God in French, he was met by a band of robbers, who inquired who he was. " I am the herald of the great King," he replied. They beat him severely, and then, casting him into a ditch filled with snow, said in bitter mockery: " Rest there, then, great herald of God." When they had passed on, Francis arose, in no way disconcerted, and, overjoyed to have suffered something for Christ, went on his way singing louder than before. Passing a monastery, he begged an alms from the monks, and spent some days there, discharg- ing the meanest offices in the kitchen. From thence he went to Gubbio, where he was recognized by a former friend, who bestowed on him some alms and a SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. 35 hermit's habit, a short tunic, leathern girdle, shoes and a staff. But true love is never satisfied without action; it must work as well as suffer. Francis, therefore, amid the interior joy of his heart, looked around him for some tangible representation of his Beloved, that his love might satisfy itself by active employment for Him. Service to those afflicted with leprosy was one of the peculiar devotions of the middle ages. To this he now devoted himself, notwithstanding the extreme natural repugnance which he felt to the very sight of such poor sufferers. His Divine Master had indeed specially called him to his service, saying to him, " Francis, if thou wouldst know My will, thou must learn to hate all which thou hast hitherto loved and desired according to the flesh. Be not terrified, how- ever, -at the new path which lies before thee; for the things which have pleased thee hitherto shall become bitter, and the things which have displeased thee, shall henceforth become sweet to thee." This holy employment he may be said to have inau- gurated, at least in the heroic degree to which he car- ried it. Many other servants of God have become eminent on the same difficult path to perfection. St. Elizabeth of Hungary, St. Louis of France, the Blessed Mary of Oignies, St. Catherine of Sienna, and St. Edward the Confessor, will be remembered as bright examples amongst the saintly souls attracted to the service of the leper. The Church, that tender mother, ever watchful over the feeble and afflicted, had taken these poor stricken ones under her special protection. They were not unlovingly separated from their fellows, even when placed by stern necessity where others would be secure from infection. Husband and wife were never parted; the holy tie of marriage remained 00 THE LITE OF inviolate. Nor was this all; the dire infliction was softened by all which the tenderness of supernatural charity could devise. The leper, it is true, was re- quired to live apart; yet this very separation was sanc- tified by holy rites and a special religious ceremony. Each portion of the dress he wore, everything he had in use, received a blessing; then, with tender word of exhortation and comfort, he was led to his lonely dwelling by God's priest. Even here he was not for- gotten or untended, for there were self-devoted souls who gave themselves exclusively to this work of mercy; whose joy it was to dress his wounds and wash his sores, pouring, as best they might, the balm of peace upon his troubled heart. Foremost amongst these ministers of love were after- wards the children of our Saint, the members of the great Franciscan order. Hence, in ancient litanies, wo find these invocations: ** SancteFrancisce, leprosorum mnndator, Sancte Francisce, iiifirmorum consolator, Ora pro nobis." (St. Francis, cleanser of lepers, St. Francis, consoler of the sick, Pray for us. ) St. Bonaventure dwells with peculiar pleasure on this devotion of the Saint, and relates a most touching in- cident regarding it. Riding one day through an open plain near Assisi, Francis perceived a leper in the dis- tance. He felt more strongly than ever his natural repugnance to approach him; but mastering it by a violent effort, he dismounted, and bestowed on him an alms, at the same time tenderly kissing his hands. That instant the leper had disappeared, and Francis could not see any object resembling a human being in the vast expanse of plain. Filled with joy, he re- mounted his horse and continued his journey, not SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. 37 doubting the miraculous nature of the apparition, knowing that He who had not disdained to be counted as a leper upon earth, might still be pleased to assume that form for the instruction or encouragement of His servants. From this time his natural repugnance en- tirely vanished; and it was his joy and constant occu- pation to perform the most painful and revolting offices for these poor outcasts. Once, when on foot upon the road near Assisi, a leper approached him, whose face was almost eaten away by this terrific disease. The poor creature attempted to kiss the feet of the saint; but Francis raised him from the ground and tenderly embraced him, and his kiss instantly healed the loathsome sores. Well might St. Bonaventure exclaim, " I know not which most to ad- mire, a kiss of such humility and love, or a miracle of such stupendous power." In the early days of the Order, postulants were usu- ally sent to the lazar houses for a first trial of their vocation. If, overcoming themselves, they entered with devotion on this labor of love, Francis would embrace them tenderly, exclaiming, " O my brethren, let us love and cherish the leper; he is indeed our Christian brother;" but if the postulant showed any repugnance, he was dismissed. Indeed, it was the intention of the Saint that such as had no talent for study or preaching should employ themselves thus, or in the service of their brethren. Brother James the Simple was distin- guished among all his brethren for his zeal in this ser- vice. He was called the procurator and physician of the leper. Francis had charged him specially with the care of one of these poor sufferers. It was a painful task, and one peculiarly revolting to human nature, as the leper was diseased even more loathsomely than the rest. The good brother, however, was nothing dis- d THE LIFE OF couraged, and his care almost restored the leper. Think- ing that a little exercise would do him good, brother James brought him to St. Mary's of the Angels. Francis was there when they arrived, and reproved his disciple severely for his indiscreet charity. " You ought not," said he, " to bring the Christian brothers here, it is neither well for them nor for you. I wish you to serve them well in the hospital, but I do not wish you to bring them abroad; there are many persons who can- not bear even to see them." The poor leper was much distressed to hear his kind benefactor reproved thus. Francis instantly perceived that he had given him pain, and, throwing himself at his feet, asked his par- don. Then, as a self-imposed penance for his fault, he took his refection outside the convent door, eafcng out of the same dish wifh the leper; after their meal he embraced the poor man tenderly, and sent him home consoled and satisfied. There is another instance among the many that could be cited, which is too touching to omit. In one of these hospitals was a poor man whose disease appeared to have extended itself even to his very soul. The friars who served him received only blows and angry words, and were compelled to listen to his ceaseless blasphe- mies against God and His blessed Mother. They strove in vain to console him, but were at last obliged to leave him to his unhappy fate. Francis heard of his suffer- ings and his sin, and hastened to him. " May God give you His peace, my brother," said he; "have pa- tience; sickness is sent from God for the cure of the soul, and when we suffer with resignation, it is a great grace." " What can I expect from God ?" exclaimed the leper; " He has deprived me of happiness and of every blessing ! How can I bear such constant suffer- ing with patience? God has forgotten me, and the SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSIST. 39 friars take no pains to please me." Seeing that words were useless, the Saint retired to pray. On his return he found the sick man calmer, and asked what he could do for him. " I should like you to wash me all over," replied the leper; " I cannot myself bear this infectious taint." Francis at once prepared warm water and sweet herbs, and began his task. Wherever he placed his hand the leprosy vanished; and soon the poor crea- ture was perfectly restored. The cure extended itself even to his soul. No longer a murmurer against the hand of providence, he shed tears of joy and of the deepest contrition. After a short time passed in rigor- ous penance, he died; and, appearing to Francis, who was praying in the woods, he cried out in sweet and joyous accents, " Do you know me ? Behold the leper whom our Saviour cured through your merits. I am going now to eternal glory to return thanks to God on your behalf, for many souls will be saved through you." Then he ascended to heaven, leaving the Saint full of consolation. Had it not been for the voice from the crucifix, which still rung in the ears of Francis, he would have been well content to spend his life in the lazar houses of Gubbio. But, holy as his employment was, a more im- portant duty awaited him; he was to rebuild the house of God. He commenced by obeying the injunction simply in its material sense, his humility leading him to suppose that this was all God required of him. Kegardless, therefore, of paternal anger and his own sensitive feelings, he returned to Assisi, and traversing the streets, asked alms for the repair of its churches, crying aloud, " He who gives me one stone shall have a reward; he who gives me two shall have two; he who gives me three shall have three." Many thought him mad, and passed him by with contempt or silent pity; 4:0 THE LITE OF others were moved to tears by his fervor and relf-re- nunciation. And so the work went on. It was towards the close of the year 1206, that Fran- cis completed the repairs of the Church of St. Damian ; he worked daily at it himself, carrying the materials on his shoulders like a common laborer. At first, he ac- cepted the hospitality of the good priest, who used to have a comfortable meal prepared for him after his day's toil, but this was not the poverty he had chosen. " Wilt thou find a priest everywhere to show thee all this kindness?" he said to himself, "this is not the poor life which thou hast chosen; rather thou must go from door to door with a dish, and take whatever may be bestowed on thee in charity. Thus must thou live for the love of Him who was born poor, who lived in poverty, who was nailed to the cross, without covering, and, after His death, was laid in the tomb of another." The next day, accordingly, he began his quest, and seated himself in the street to take his meal. At first he shrank at the very sight of the coarse and revolting mess before him. But one strong effort of his resolute will, and the same divine grace which had enabled him to conquer his abhorrence of the leper, enabled him now to carry out this practice of absolute poverty. He returned to the priest, saying cheerfully, "You need take no further trouble about my food, father, for I have found a good housekeeper and a very skilful cook, who will prepare excellent dishes for me in future." Our Saint at this time foretold the foundation of tho order of Poor Clares. " Help me," he said to the work- men who were assisting him in repairing St. Damian's, " for one day there will be a convent of poor nuns in this place of a most holy life, who throughout the whole Church shall glorify our Father in heaven." Peter Bernardone, as may be imagined, was not too SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. 41 well pleased with the conduct of his son. Finding, however, that blows and reproaches had no power to turn him from his purpose, he gave vent to his indig- nation by cursing him whenever he crossed his path. The affectionate heart of Francis felt this keenly. At length he sought out a poor old beggar, and said to him, "Thou shalt be my father. Come with me; we will share our alms between us. Then, when my father Bernardone curses me, I will say to thee, Bless me, father ! and thou shalt bless me." The next time he met his father he said to him joyfully, " See, God has given me another father, who blesses me as often as you curse me." His brother Angelo also reviled him. One bitterly cold day during the same winter, Francis was praying in the church, the keen, frosty air pierced through his poor hermit's coat, and, unused as yet to such hardship, he shivered again and again. Angelo entered with a party of his gay companions, all well defended against the cold. Turning to one of them, he said, " Go and ask yonder fellow to sell you some of his sweat." The Saint replied, " I do not sell my sweat to men, for I can sell it at a higher price to God." In the spring of the following year, Francis began tho repair of an old church dedicated to St. Peter, situated a little way without the city. He next turned his at- tention to the small chapel of the Porziuncola,* called St. Mary's of the Angels, of which we shall hereafter have much to relate. These three churches have been taken to symbolize his three Orders, St. Peter's repre- senting the body of apostolic men who were to evan- gelize nations and edify the Church by their lives and sufferings; our Lady of the Angels, those holy women who should triumph over the weakness of their sex in * So named because built near a small plot of ground belonging to the Benedictines of Subiaco, 42 THE LIFE OF the austere rale left them by their sainted patriarch; while St. Damian's may represent the third Order, open to both sexes and all classes among Catholic Christians, from the prince of the Church and the crowned head,* to the poor mendicant, the penniless widow and the toiling artizan. CHAPTER IV. Francis espouses Poverty. Renounces money, and goes barefoot . Giotto, Dante, Bossuet. Disciples come to Francis. With two others, he goes to reside at Bivo Torto. Some notice of the twelve first members of the Order. THE Order of Friars Minor was founded in the year 1208. Francis was one day hearing mass in his beloved chapel of our Lady of the Angels, when he heard these words read in the gospel of the day: "Do not possess gold, nor silver, nor money in your purse, nor scrip for your journey, nor two coats, nor shoes, nor a staff." Immediately he cast away his purse, though probably it contained neither gold nor silver; his shoes and staff were also discarded, as contrary to the evangelical poverty he was about to espouse. He substituted for his hermit's habit one of coarse gray serge, which he bound round his waist with a cord, and exclaiming, " This is what I seek for, this is what I desire with all my heart," he went forth, everywhere preaching pen- ance to his fellow men. This mystical espousal with holy poverty has been a theme for the eloquence of the orator, the pen of the poet, and the pencil of the artist. As you enter the * St. Louis, King of France, and Saint Charles Borromeo, were ter- tiaries of the Order of St. Francis. The great Ximenes was a Fran- ciscan of the strict observance, as also his successor, the present apostolic Archbishop of Toledo. SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISL 43 lower church of the Friars Minor at Assisi, a magnifi- cent fresco is the first object which attracts your atten- tion. The connoisseur in art will quickly recognize the exquisite freshness which characterizes the coloring of Giotto. There you behold the first great lover of poverty, the incarnate God, who, though rich with all the riches of the celestial mansions, for our sakes be- came poor. His face and form are radiant with the immortal beauty of His risen humanity. He presents the hand of a young maiden to Francis, who places on her finger the mystical ring, the pledge of an eternal alliance. Beautiful indeed is this fair bride, and glow- ing with the freshness of an immortal youth. A calm smile is on her slightly parted lips, and the light of an unearthly beauty in her gentle eye. She is crowned with flowers, but her garments are coarse and torn. Her naked feet bleed, for she is treading a hard and thorny path. Angry words are uttered by the crowd around her; but she goes on her way calm and un- moved amid their insults, while the angelic choirs offer her their joyous congratulations. Here angels are seen chasing away greedy misers, who are hugging their bags of gold, while in another compartment they pre- sent to the Eternal Father the "houses and lands" forsaken for love of Him, by those who have taken holy poverty for their spouse. Nor is the sublime word-painting of Dante less ex- pressive. Singing, in his own lofty strains, the beauties of the spouse of Francis, her sorrows and her wrongs, he says: "A dame to whom none openeth pleasure's gate More than to death, was 'gainst his father's will, His stripling choice, and he did make her his, Before the spiritual court, by nuptial bonds, And in his father's sight, from day to day, Then loved her more devoutly. She, bereav'd Of her first husband, slighted and obscure, 44 THE LIFE OF Thousand and hundred years and more, reniain'd Without a single suitor till he came, Nor aught availed that with Amyclas,* she Was found unmoved at murmur of his voice, Who shook the world, nor aught her constant boldness, Whereby with Christ she mounted on the croes." PABADISO, Canto xi. CAKY'S Translation. Bossuet too pours forth, with all the eloquence of his gifted intellect his panegyric of Francis and of poverty. " A thousand times blessed art thou, O poor Francis, the most ardent, the most enthusiastic, and if I may so say, the most infatuated lover of poverty that has ever appeared in the Church." And again, " Now has pov- erty become noble, because she has wedded royalty ; she whom the king's son has espoused becomes enno- bled by her espousals, however mean her former con- dition. Let men complain, let them murmur as they will, the poor are become the friends of God; for He has said, ' Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven.' " We have said that the Order of Friars Minor was founded in the year 1208. Bernard da Quintavalle, a rich and respectable citizen of Assisi, was the first follower of our Saint. The history of his conversion is remarkable. He was probably a friend of Bernardone's, and held much the same position in his native town; but he had a less avaricious disposition, and a more thoughtful mind. He heard of the strange doings of Francis. Who indeed had not ? They were the town and table talk of Assisi, the nine days' wonder of its respectable inhabitants. And while the general opinion was that the young man had shown symptoms of insani- ty, while some laughed, and others grieved over his dis- grace, Bernard formed his own opinion, and was anxi- ous to put it to the test. After all, he thought, this * An allusion to Lucan's Pharsalia, lib. v. 531. SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSIST. 45 T strange conduct might have some mystery in it worth unravelling. But three or four years had passed since this young man had been the pride of his native town, admired and applauded by all, with wealth enough and power of enjoyment to gladden his life. Why had he forsaken all this ? why thrown it all from him ? His thoughtful mind saw a method in this madness that told of some deep motive power, and he could not rest until he had fathomed it. The mystery was soon made clear. He invited Francis to his house, and that night they occupied the same apartment. Bernard feigned sleep, and the Saint, thinking himself unobserved, arose, as was his wont, to pray. The chained eagle was unloosed, the caged dove was freed, the pent up torrent had burst its bonds, the soul that pined for its Beloved could cast itself into His embraces. With one bound the spirit of Francis sprang up to Him in whose bosom was his rest, his joy, his all; and, while burning tears streamed from his eyes, and yet more burning sighs issued from his heart, he kept repeating the words which were but the faint expression of his desires; for what earthly words can express heavenly love ? " Deus meus et omnia" (my God and my all). Bernard now understood why Francis had left father and mother, had despised houses and lands; it was because that which he had forsaken was nothing, and that which he had found was All. So the night passed, and morning found the Saint still absorbed in prayer. Bernard had prayed also, and had received the wonderful grace of vocation to a life of poverty, and it may be his courage in correspond- ing with it has hardly had its due meed of praise. He was called to follow one who as yet had no home, no religious rule, no order, no subjects, certainly no repu- tation but that of one beside himself. Francis was but 46 THE LIFE OF the poor despised beggar of Assisi, and the courage of those who first resolved to follow Him was, therefore, not unlike theirs who followed Jesus of Nazareth in His life of humiliation and contempt. A few days afterwards, Bernard came to Francis and addressed him thus: "If a servant has received a treasure from his master of which he has no need, what should he do with it ?" " He should restore it to his master," replied the Saint. " Well then," said Bernard, " I will return to the Lord the earthly goods which he has bestowed on me." " What you propose/' said Francis, "is a serious matter; we must consult God about it. Let us go to the church and hear holy Mass, and after we have prayed, the Divine Spirit will teach us what we ought to do." Before they went, another disciple presented himself ; this was Peter of Catania, canon of the church of St. Kufinus, the cath- edral of Assisi. Francis, with the calm and holy wisdom of true sanctity, was unwilling either to repress the ardor of his two disciples, or to lead them on to a vocation in which they might be unable to persevere. He therefore went with them to the church of St. Nicolas, where they heard Mass, and remained in prayer until the hour of terce. He then, according to a custom not unusual in those times, requested the priest to open the holy Gospels thrice, and to read the words upon which he should first cast his eyes. It was done in simple faith, and simple faith ever obtains what it desires. On the first opening of the book, they read, " If thou wilt be perfect, go, sell what thou hast, and give to the poor." The second time they read, " Take nothing for the way." The third time, " If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his Cross, and follow Me." " This," exclaimed SAINT FEANCIS OF ASSIST. 47 Francis, "is the rule which we must follow; this is the counsel of God; let us go and put it in practice." Bernard had large possessions; but, unlike the rich young man in the Gospel, he immediately sold them, and assembling the poor of Assisi in the square of St. George, distributed to the widow and orphan all his worldly goods. These events took place on the morning of the 16th of April, 1208. The same day, Francis and his disci- ples took up their abode in a poor hut at a place called llivo Torto. It was near Assisi, and so named from a small rivulet which wound its devious course through the plain. But the little stream may become a mighty river, bearing in its bosom a thousand sources of fer- tility for many lands. Thus was it with the streamlet of grace springing up in the souls of these voluntary poor ones, from whose heroic yet simple act came re- sults so great and so splendid. In this little hut, three poor men who had forsaken the world, and were de- spised by it in turn, laid the foundation of an Order that was to extend far and wide, hold sway over the counsels of kings, influence the destiny of nations, make its voice heard and reverenced alike in the camp and the senate, in the cottage and on the throne; and number in its blessed ranks canonized saints, holy con- fessors, teachers and evangelizers, pontiffs guiding, and martyrs suffering for the mystical Body of Christ.* * There is now at Rivotorto a convent, with a church belonging to the fathers conventual of Assisi. St. Francis lived about three years in this hut with his twelve companions. The site remained as he left it until the year 1586, when the foundations of a large church were laid, which enclosed the place where he had dwelt ; this was not fin- ished, however, until 1640. In the month of May, 1646', F. M. Michael Angelo Catalonia laid the foundation of a spacious convent, which was soon completed, and remains to the present day. Here is preserved a very ancient Piela, or picture of our Blessed Lady, with the body of her Divine Son in her arms, as taken down from the Cross, to which St. Francis had a special devotion. 48 THE LIFE OF After seven days, another disciple came to ask a share in the poverty of Francis. Brother Egidius was also a native of Assisi, and a man of wealth and posi- tion; but divine love had touched his heart, and he, too, desired the lowly life of a poor mendicant friar. On the feast of St. George he went to hear Mass at the church dedicated to that saint, and then set out in search of Francis and his companions. Not knowing which road to take, he prayed that he might be led to choose the one which would bring him to the hut, say- ing: " O Lord and heavenly Father, I beseech Thee by Thy mercy, if I am to persevere in this holy vocation, to guide my steps to the dwelling of Thy servants." Instinctively he followed one of the three roads which lay before him, and soon met Francis coming out of a neighboring wood, where he had been engaged in prayer. Throwing himself at his feet, he begged most earnestly to be permitted to join his holy company. Francis replied: "My dear brother, you ask God to take you for his servant and His knight. This is not a small grace; it is as if the Emperor should come to Assisi in search of a favorite. Each one would say in his heart, God grant that he may choose me ! See, then, how God hath chosen thee." Then raising him from the ground, he led him to Bernard and Peter, saying: " Here is a good brother whom God has sent us." With joyous hearts these simple ones sat down to their morning repast, while the angels hovered over them uttering canticles of praise that one more saintly soul was called from earth and earthly things to conse- crate his whole being to Him who loves man with such unutterable but unrequited love. When their poor meal was ended, Francis took his new disciple to As- sisi, that he might get materials for his habit. On their way they met a poor woman, who asked an alms. SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. 49 The Saint, turning to Egidius, said: " My brother, let us give the cloak you wear to this poor woman for the love of God." The gift was willingly bestowed, and immediately it was caught up to heaven. But these devoted men could not remain long inac- tive; zeal for the salvation of souls was to be a charac- teristic of their Order, and it was early manifested. Bernard and Peter went out to preach in the Komagna; Francis and Egidius into the Marches of Ancona. After a time they returned to Bivotorto, and a new disciple named Sabbatin presented himself. But little is known of him, save that his life was saintly, his end blessed; his mortal remains await the morning of the resurrection in the Church of Ara Coali in Borne. The fifth disciple of our Saint was Morique, a religious of the Order of Crociferi, so called from the cross they wore on their habit. His vocation was remarkable. Being seriously ill at the hospital of St. Saviour's in Assisi, he sent to Francis to beg his prayers. He had heard of the Saint from many, and although the phy- sicians had pronounced his case hopeless, he doubted not that the holy friar could obtain his recovery. Mixing a little bread with the oil of the lamp that burned before the altar of OUT Lady of the Angels, Francis sent it to him by two of his companions, say- ing: "Carry this to our dear brother Morique. The power of Jesus Christ shall not only restore him to perfect health, but shall also dispose him to be His servant in our company." Morique took the remedy, and was cured instantaneously; for, as the old Chron- icles quaintly remark, " it was not confected by any worldly apothecary, but of the unction of the Holy Ghost." He lived for many years after in remarkable vigor and health, although he practiced the greatest austerities, neither eating bread nor drinking wine, 3 50 THE LIFE OF but contenting himself with herbs and pulse. As for his habit, it was rather that of a beggar than of a Friar Minor. We must now turn to a sad history. John of Capella (who is not to be confounded with the simple-hearted and saintly brother John, who followed Francis from the plough) began well but ended miserably. In spite of repeated warnings from his holy master, he allowed attachment to temporal things and a spirit of relaxa- tion to overpower him. At length he was stricken with a dreadful leprosy, but not having patience to endure the affliction, he ended his life, Judas-like, by suicide. His place was afterwards filled by brother William, an Englishman, of most holy life, at whose tomb so many miracles were wrought that the con- course of suppliants at the gate interfered with the recollected spirit of the convent. Brother Elias was therefore obliged to visit his sepulchre, and command' him by holy obedience to work.no more. Philip the Long was the seventh disciple. He was the first confessor and visitor of the religious of St. Clare. Of him it is said that an angel purged his lips, touch- ing them with a burning coal, as did the seraph to the prophet Isaias; "which" says the chronicler, "was not a little necessary to him that was to administer the word of God unto religious women." Of John of St. Constantine, Barbaras, and Bernard of Viridant, we have no specific account ; but concerning the priest Silvester, the eleventh in order of vocation, some inter- esting details are given. Francis had purchased from him some of the materials with which he rebuilt the Church of St. Damian, and had paid him what he con- sidered a sufficient sum. The priest seemed satisfied at the time ; but shortly after, seeing Bernard distri- buting his worldly goods in the public square, he SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. 51 accosted Francis, and claimed an additional payment. The saint took a handful of money from the bag, say- ing, "Sir priest, have your full payment now?" "I have all I require," replied Sylvester, who retired over- joyed at his success. But ere a few days had elapsed, his conscience smote him, and he said to himself, " Is it not a miserable thing that I, an old man, should so eagerly seek after earthly things, while this young man. despises them for the love of God?" That night he had a wonderful dream. He beheld an enormous dragon, which encircled in its coils not only the town of Assisi, but the whole surrounding country. Then Francis appeared, and out of his mouth proceeded a fair and large cross of gold, the top whereof touched the heavens, while the arms stretched even to the ends of the earth, and at sight of it the dragon fled. At first the priest was not inclined to pay much attention to his dream. But as it was repeated for three suc- cessive nights, he went to Francis and related it to him, begging at the same time to be admitted into his society. His request was granted, and the remainder of his life was spent in a scarcely interrupted prayer. The twelfth disciple of our Saint was an officer in the army called Angelo Tancredi. His vocation did not occur for some time later ; but we will anticipate it, that the account of the twelve first disciples may not be disconnected. Francis and his companions were journeying to Home, and as they passed through Rieti he beheld a young knight hitherto unknown to him. Addressing him by his name, Francis thus accosted him: "Angelo, you have worn your military equipments long enough, it is time you should have a cowl instead of a belt, the Cross of Christ instead of a sword, and mud and dust instead of spurs. Follow me therefore, and I will make 52 THE LIFE OF you a soldier of Jesus Christ." The young officer instantly obeyed, and left all to follow Francis, in whom he beheld the likeness of his Lord. Thus tho number of twelve disciples was completed; another striking coincidence between the life of the servant and that of the Master. Such were the "living stones" of that magnificent building, which was to rise even to heaven, and to support the Church of God in its time of greatest need. Prayer, manual labor, and begging alms for necessary food, formed the employment of these first diciples of the Saint. Hard words, and even rough blows, were often their only gain after a day's questing in the city where once they had been respected and esteemed, for poverty was little loved or courted in the native city of its great apostle. Meanwhile Francis was not without prophetic inti- mations of the future greatness of his order. One day, after he had been long absorbed in prayer, he called his children to him, to send them forth to preach. They were then few in number, for he had but just received his seventh disciple, Philip the Long. " Take courage, my brethren," he cried, " rejoice in the Lord; let not our small number dishearten you, nor my simplicity and yours alarm you, for God has shown me clearly that by His blessing He will spread through the entire world this family of which He is the Father. I would fain keep silence on what I have seen, but charity compels me to make it known to you. I have seen a great multitude coming to us, to receive the same habit, and to lead the same life. I have seen the roads thronged with men, who address us. The French come, the Spaniards hasten, the English and the Germans run towards us; all nations are moved, and my ears are filled with the sounds of footsteps hurrying hither and SAINT FKANCIS OF ASSIST. 53 thither to fulfil the commands of holy obedience. Con- sider, my brethren, what is our vocation. It is not merely for our own salvation, that the mercy of God has called us, but for the salvation of many other souls. It is that we may go forth and exhort all men, rather by our example than our words, to do penance and keep the divine commands. We seem, indeed, mad and contemptible ; but fear not, take courage, and be as- sured that our Saviour, who has conquered the world, will speak efficaciously through you. Let us beware lest, after having renounced all, we lose the kingdom of heaven through some slight imperfection. If we meet with some who revile and despise us, we shall also find simple and holy souls who will hear us with joy. Let us, then, have courage; be patient in tribulation, fervent in prayer, laborious in work, and the kingdom of heaven, which is eternal, shall be our reward." After this holy exhortation St. Francis gave his ben- ediction severally to his little band, saying to each: " Cast your burdens upon the Lord, and He will sustain you." Then forming a cross, which pointed to the four quarters of the globe, he took one side for himself with a companion, and sent the other six in like manner on their apostolic mission. CHAPTER V. At the prayer of the Saint, his disciples return to their mission. The Novitiate at Bivotorto. Trials and fervor of the Novices. Francis proposes a rule for them. Solicits the approbation of the Holy See. Innocent the Third. The Cardinal Paoli. Cardinal Ugolini. The Pope's dream. The Parable of Francis. He obtains all he desires. Promises obedience to the Sovereign Pontiff Receives the vows of his children. They return home. A miracle occurs by the way. New disciples crowd around him. He obtains the hapel of S*t. Mary of the Angels. The Benedictines the first patrons of the Order. THIS dispersion of the brethren was not of long con- tinuance; it was but a first essay of that life of poverty, 54 THE LIFE OF contempt and suffering, to which they desired solemnly to consecrate themselves. The prayers of the Saint brought his children together once more, and each gave an account of his mission, its trials, and its suc- cess. "When asked from whence they came, their re- ply always was, " We are poor penitents from Assisi." They never passed by a church without entering it ; prostrate on the ground they said the prayer which Francis had taught them, and which is still used by the religious of his Order, " We adore Thee, O Lord Jesus Christ, here, and in all Thy churches which are in all the earth; and we bless Thee, because by Thy holy cross Thou hast redeemed the world." The greater number of the twelve first disciples of Francis were men of rank and wealth; unaccustomed to the slightest privations or sufferings, and leaving a position in society where they knew only how to com- mand. It must have required no common grace to enable them to turn at once from their wonted ease to the bare floor and rude hut of Rivotorto. No quiet noviciate was theirs, in which to be inured gradually to such hardness of life; where thoughtful, loving care would lead them on, step by step, and mould them daily to something of heroic perfection. But their courage, or rather their measure of grace, was equal to the trial; none, except the one unhappy apostate, even faltered. He who had come, " not to be ministered unto, but to minister," nerved them by His example and strength- ened them by His Spirit. They were true children of their saintly father, who had already exclaimed, " There is nothing, O my God, that I am not ready, with my whole heart to give up for Thee; nothing too hard or painful for me to endure with joy ; nothing which ac- cording to my powers of body or soul, I am not ready to undertake for the glory of my Lord Jesus; and I SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. 55 desire as far as I possibly can, to urge and lead on others to love God with all their hearts and above all things." As the number of the Saint's disciples increased, it became necessary that he should give them some defi- nite rule of life; he therefore prepared constitutions for their government, in twenty-three chapters. The fourth Council of Lateran had not yet issued its decree, requiring all religious orders to solicit the ap- probation of the Holy See, but saints do not wait for injunctions where there is a question of doing what is most perfect. Francis assembled his disciples and said, " I see, my brethren, that it is the Lord's good pleasure to extend our association. Let us go then to our mo- ther, the holy Roman Church, and make known to the Sovereign Pontiff what God has been pleased to design by our ministry, in order that w r e may carry on our labors according to his will and under his direction." Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux, in an address to his cler- gy, speaks thus: "Paul, after he had been rapt to the third heaven, came to Peter, to teach all future ages, that no man, be he ever so holy or so learned, should live without seeing Peter." This has ever been the guiding principle of all the true sons of holy Church; and in times like our own we may do well to ponder over the deep reverence and tender affection shown by the Saints to the successor of St. Peter and represen- tative of their God. In proportion to the sublimity of their revelations and the greatness of their sanctity, has been the depth of their child-like submission to all spir- itual superiors, from those immediately over them to the supreme head of the Church on earth. The first sin was a disobedience of the human will, too proud to submit even to a direct command, and the same spirit still manifests itself, from lesser resistances to lawful authority to the open rebellion of heresy or schism. 53 THE LIFE OF Pride, that caused the fall of angels, has often since then hurled down to the same dark abyss souls who, but for its rebellious sway, might have filled their vacant thrones. " Who is like God ?" was the war-cry of the archangel, and what is opposition to authority but the answer of Lucifer, Similis ero Altissimo, "I will be like the Most High !" It is not then wonderful that the Saints were obedient in proportion to their other tokens of sanctity, and that they dared not believe a vision, however apparently clear, or act on a revelation, how- ever sublime, until assured by their superiors that it was from God. In the higher paths of supernatural gifts there may be delusions and snares; in simple obe- dience there can be none, for the voice of Eternal truth has said, "He that heareth you, heareth Me; and he that despiseth you, despiseth Me; and he that despiseth Me, despiseth Him that sent Me." Bernard da Quintavalle, the eldest born of the spiri- tual family of St. Francis, was appointed their leader and guide on their journey; the humility of the Saint making him decline the direction of the little band. On their way they passed through Rieta; and here Angelo de Tancredi received his vocation, as was related before. Poor, friendless and unknown, as they were, no won- der they should have had fears and misgivings by the way. But the faith of the holy Patriarch was not easily shaken; and a vision with which he was favored, and which he related to his disciples, revived their faith and courage. Their happiness was not a little increased when, on their arrival at Rome, they found there the venerable bishop of Assisi, the first friend and patron of the Seraphic Order. This good prelate was much disconcerted at their arrival; he feared they intended to leave his diocese, where they had already done so much by their exhortations and good example; but as SAIXT FRANCIS OF ASSIST. 57 soon as the real object of their visit was made known to him, he assisted them by every means in his power. The Cardinal, John of St. Paul, bishop of Sabina, was then in Borne; he was specially devoted to the service of the poor, and w T as one who could understand and appreciate the fervor of the Saint. As a personal friend, the Bishop of Assisi requested him to use his influence in favor of Francis, and he willingly complied. Innocent the Third was at this time engaged in affairs of great moment. One day, as he paced to and fro on a terrace of the Lateran Palace, he was accosted by a poor man, of whom he knew nothing, who asked per- mission to establish a new religious order. We can scarcely wonder that the apparent visionary was re- pulsed, and that the carew r orn Pontiff forgot, amid his many and pressing anxieties, the momentary interrup- tion. That night, however, he beheld in a dream a palm which sprang up at his feet; at first it seemed but a little shoot; presently it grew up into a stately tree. In the morning he was given to understand that this tree symbolized the poor man whom he had dismissed the day before. He sent immediately for Francis, and received him surrounded by his cardinals. The Saint fully explained his intentions and desires; and Inno- cent thanked God that there was now a son of holy Church who, manifesting by his example wherein true poverty consisted, would thus expose the errors of the false " poor men" of Lyons, at that time drawing souls into peril of heresy by their professed contempt for worldly things. The cardinals, however, were not all of this mind. Some feared, not unreasonably, that the poverty proposed was excessive; and that few, if any, could be found who would persevere long in such a life. Again, the very important question arose, How 3* 58 THE LIFE OF were these men to live ? Every other religious order was more or less self-supporting, had its own funds, or means of maintenance ; whereas it was a special re- quirement, nay, the essential rule and foundation, of this new institute, that its members should . possess nothing, but should depend for their daily bread on the alms of the faithful. There was one, however, of the consistory, well pre- pared to defend this absolute poverty, the holy cardi- nal, John of St. Paul. He arose, answered the objec- tions, point by point, and concluded with these words: " If we refuse the petition of this poor man, on the pretext that his rule is hard and too difficult, let us beware lest we reject the Gospel itself; for the rule which he desires to have approved is in conformity with it; and to say that evangelical perfection contains anything unreasonable or impossible, is to blaspheme against Jesus Christ, the author of the Gospel." Inno- cent was struck with this reasoning, and said to Fran- cis: "My son, pray that Jesus Christ may make his will known to us, that we may further your pious de- sires." The Saint retired to pray, but soon returned, and thus addressed the Pontiff : " Holy Father, a poor but very beautiful maiden once dwelt in a desert. A great king saw her, and was so charmed with her beauty that he espoused her. He remained with her some years, and they had several children, who had the features of their father and the beauty of their mother. Then he returned to his court. The mother brought up her children with great care. One day she said to them: 'My children, you are born of a great king; go to him, and he will provide you with all that you need.' The children came to the king, and when he beheld their beauty, he said, ' Whose children are you ?' and they answered, ' We are the children of that SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSIST. 5tf poor maiden who dwelt in the desert.' Then the king embraced them with great joy, and said: Tear nothing, you are my children. If strangers are fed every day at my table, shall I not much rather take care of my own offspring?' This king, most holy father, is our Lord Jesus Christ. This beautiful young maiden is Poverty, who, being rejected and despised by all, lives in this world as in a desert. The King of kings loved her so much that when He came down from heaven to earth, He espoused her in the manger. And she bore Him many children in the desert of this world; apostles, anchorets, cenobites, and many more who have embraced voluntary poverty. That good mother sent them to the King of heaven, their Father, bearing the stamp of His royal poverty, as well as of His humility and obedience. The great King received them with kindness, and promised to provide for them, saying, ' I make my sun to rise upon the just and the unjust; I provide what is necessary for every creature; shall I not much rather take care of My own children ?' If the King of heaven has promised that those who follow Him shall reign eternally with Him, how much more certain may we be that He will provide them with those things which He pours forth so liberally on the good and on the evil ?" " Of a truth," exclaimed Inno- cent, " this is the man w r ho, by his works and by his doctrine, shall sustain the Church of Jesus Christ." Then he declared how, on the preceding night, he had beheld him in a dream upholding the falling Basilica of the Lateran. There were now no further difficulties in obtaining the sanction of his Rule. Innocent gave it a verbal approbation which was all the Saint asked at the time. Francis made him a promise of obedience, and his children made the same to himself. The holy Pontiff 60 THE LIFE OF assured him of liis protection, conferred on him tho order of deacon, admitted his companions to minor orders, and constituted the Saint superior-general of all the religious of the order of Friars Minor present and to come. It was at this time also that Francis made the acquaintance of Cardinal Ugolmi, afterwards so powerful a protector of the Order. Thus encouraged and fortified, the little band set out on their homeward journey. Once, after a long and fatiguing day's march, they rested a little by the way- side, famished with hunger. They had no food, and there was no habitation within sight where they might beg for their necessities. Presently a man appeared, who presented them with some bread, and immediately vanished. Thus were the words of Francis verified; and the great King who feeds the raven, proved Him- self not unmindful of His own children. In the Dominican annals we read that, under a like trial of faith, angelic youths of wonderful grace and beauty entered the refectory, and served the friars with reli- gious ceremony, retiring as they came. In the Fran- ciscan Order, when such miraculous supplies have been vouchsafed, it is by the toilsome way-side or in the desert waste. With such discerning love and adapta- tion do the miracles of God's providence towards each institute harmonize with their design and character. The Order of poverty and love is fed by a poor man on the way-side; the Order of light and wisdom re- ceives its refection within the calm silence of its clois- tered walls. The Friars remained for a time at Orta, but this place was soon abandoned; the people were too kind to them to make it a desirable abode for those who sought poverty and contempt; while the singular beauty and convenience of the locality made Francis fear lest his SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. 61 young soldiers should be enervated by its attractions. Once more we find them in their poor little hut at Rivotorto. Here there could be no danger of the temptations from which they had just retreated. The place was surrounded by an unwholesome marsh; and the dwelling itself so contracted that each brother had to write his name on the wall, to mark the spot he was to occupy at prayer. Often their only sustenance was herbs and roots, which they moistened with tears of love and penance. The Saint now devoted himself to train and instruct his disciples. Their book was a large wooden cross, fixed in the centre of their poor hut, round which they knelt in prayer. Sometimes they went to preach in the surrounding villages. On one occasion, Francis went on a Saturday evening to Assisi, where he was to preach next morn- ing in the cathedral. He passed the night in a small shed, in a garden belonging to one of the canons. About midnight, the brethren who slept or watched at Rivotorto were startled by a light of unearthly bril- liancy, which filled the hut, and at the same time, they beheld a fiery chariot supporting a golden globe, which passed three times round the room. "When the Saint returned on the following day, they conversed together on the miraculous event, which seemed to them to symbolize the spiritual greatness of their holy father. Francis then told them many things regarding their own interior, as also relating to the future extension and greatness of the Order. All this tended to confirm their trust and confidence in. him, and they resolved more earnestly than ever to yield themselves implicitly to his guidance. New disciples now began to crowd around the Saint, and the little hut of Rivotorto could no longer shelter the increasing family of Franciscans. They were too 62 THE LIFE OF poor to build a convent, and so their only resource was to beg; it was no little joy to them thus to found their first conventual establishment. The good bishop and canons of Assisi were both appealed to, but neither had it in their power to bestow sufficient alms, or to give a church suitable for them. Francis then applied to the Benedictine fathers of Subiaco, and they immediately and generously bestowed on him and his children the little chapel of St. Mary of the Angels,* with the house adjoining it. This was, on all accounts, a most welcome gift. It will be remembered that this church was one of the three which the Saint had repaired soon after his conversion, and it was one which he especially loved. A good priest, named Peter Mazancoli, had taken charge of it since that time; Francis now has- tened to inform him who were its new proprietors, and to invite him to join the little band. Mazancoli warmly embraced and congratulated him, saying, " This place is surely beloved by the Blessed Virgin, for choirs of angels are often heard singing in it." That night, as Francis prayed long and fervently before the altar, recommending his little family to the care of our Blessed Lady, our Divine Lord appeared to him, accom- panied by His Mother and a host of angels. The Saint * It is said that the Chapel of Porzmncola was built by four hermits who came from Palestine in 352, during the pontificate of Pope Libe- rius. They were sent by him to the valley of Spoleto, where they set- tled, and built a rude oratory of stones and mud, dedicating it to the Mother of God. In process of time, it came into the possession of the Benedictine fathers, who had a large monastery near Assisi. It was almost in ruins when they obtained it, but they rebuilt it, making it like the church which their venerable father, St Benedict, had erected on Mount Subiaco, in honor of the Queen of Angels, and giving it the name of Porziuncola. It remained just as St. Francis had repaired it, until the pontificate of St. Pius the Fifth. On the Feast of the An- nunciation, 1560, the first stone was laid of a new church, which is one of the largest and most magnificent in Italy. It was materially in- jured by an earthquake in 1832, but the nave and choir have been rebuilt. Happily the cupola, under which is the original chapt 1, escaped injury, as also a magnificent fresco, representing the vision ( f St Francis, which had only been completed by Overbeck a few yt ara previously, and which is very justly considered his masterpiece. ' SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. Od exclaimed in ecstatic joy, " most holy Lord, King of heaven, Redeemer of the world, sweet love; and Thou, O Queen of Angels, by what excess of goodness do you come down from heaven into this poor chapel ?" Im- mediately he heard this reply, " I am come with My Mother to settle you and yours in this place, which is dear to Me." Well might Francis exclaim, " This is a holy place, fit rather for the habitation of angels than of men; it will be an eternal monument to us of the goodness of God." Next morning he assembled his religious there, and told them what had passed. He said, moreover, that the Benedictine fathers had given them their new habitation on condition that it was from henceforth to be considered the principal house of the Order, however much it might afterwards extend. In token of gratitude to his benefactors, and also to show that he received their gift only as an alms, Francis sent each year to the Benedictine Abbot a basket of small fish which abound in the Chiasco, a river which ilows by the place. CHAPTER VL Francis invites postulants to join his Order. A short account of sev- eral of his early disciples. Brother Leo, Ms friend and confessor. Brother Rufinus. Masseo di Mariguano. Brother Juniper. Brother Simeon. Brother Christopher. He desires his disciple, who is familiar with his guardian angel, to ascertain his state before God. Brother William, the Englishman. Brother Peregrinus of Falcron. Brother Philip the Long, first confessor to the Poor Clares. Brother Giles, or Egidius. THE Franciscan Order may now be considered as fairly established; it was approved by the holy See, its disciples were increasing, and, poor as it was, they had a house where they could receive postulants. Full of joy, Francis went through the surrounding country, crying out, "O ye who desire the precious pearl of 64 THE LIFE OF the Gospel, come join us in our trafficking for heaven; sell your goods, give them to the poor; come, and be free with me from all earthly cares; come, we will do penance together; come, we will serve and praise our God in poverty and simplicity." His invitation was accepted, crowds flocked around him to listen to his earnest burning words, and amid those crowds many blessed ones heard and answered the interior call. Many " forgot their own people and their father's house," and soon the Friars Minor had no need to seek for postulants. Most touching details are recorded of some of these saintly souls; and as a life of St. Francis would be very imperfect without an account of his children, we must notice a few of them here. First of all comes Brother Leo, " The Little Sheep of God," (La Pecorella di Dio,) as Francis used play- fully to call him. He was the confessor and most in- timate friend of the Saint, who confided to him his greatest secrets, and even those divine favors which he so sedulously concealed from all beside. What is re- lated of their intercourse is full of that exquisite sim- plicity which has always characterized the most saintly souls of the Order. One bitterly cold winter's day, as Francis and his companion walked along the road from Perugia to Saint Mary of the Angels, the Saint exclaimed, " God grant, Brother Leo, that the Friars Minor may give an example of great sanctity to all the world ! Neverthe- less, mark well that therein is not perfect joy." Then going on a little further, he added, " O Brother Leo, though the Friars Minor should give sight to the blind should cast out devils should restore hearing to the deaf, and speech to the dumb, or even bring back to life those who had been four days buried, this SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSIST. 65 is not perfect joy." A third time he cried: " O Brother Leo, if the Friar Minor knew all tongues and all knowledge if he had the gift of prophecy and of dis- cerning spirits this is not perfect joy." Then, going a little further: " O Brother Leo, dear little sheep of God, if the Friar Minor should speak with the tongues of Angels should know the courses of the stars, the virtue of plants, the secrets of earth, and understand the nature of birds, of fishes, of men, and all animals, of trees, of stones, and of the waters even here is not perfect joy." Then once more he cried, " O Brother Leo, though the Friar Minor should by his preaching convert all infidels to the faith of Christ, even here is not perfect joy." Thus he spoke as they journeyed on, mile after mile, the external cold chilling their weary limbs, and the internal fire consuming their loving hearts. At last Brother Leo cried out, " Dear Father, where then in the name of God, is perfect joy ?" and the Saint answered thus, "When we come to Saint Mary of the Angels, pinched with cold, famished with hunger, and covered with dirt ; and, when we knock at the door, if the porter shall say, ' Who are you?' and we answer, 'We are two of your brethren;' and he re- plies, 'You lie; you are two idle vagabonds who roam about, getting the alms of those who really need it;' and if he leaves us all night at the door in the frost and snow, and if we suffer this treatment with patience, without murmuring or vexation, and even think chari- tably and kindly of the porter, and that he has just taken us for what we are, and that it is by the permis- sion of God that he uses us in this manner ; then, be- lieve me, we have found perfect joy ! And if, when we continue knocking at the gate, the porter comes out and beats us, saying, ' Away with you, villains, go to the hospital; we have nothing for you to eat here;' if 66 THE LIFE OF we endure all this with patience, and forgive him with all OUT hearts, then, believe me, we have found perfect joy! If at last, in this extremity, hunger, cold, and darkness compel us to entreat once more with tears that we may be let into the convent, the porter should be enraged against us, and coming out with a great knotted stick, should take us by the hood, throw us down in the snow, and beat us until we are all over wounds and bruises, and if we should bear all this with joy, thinking that thus we share in the sufferings of our blessed Lord Jesus Christ, then believe indeed, O Leo! that we have found ecstatic joy; for of all the gifts of the Holy Spirit which Jesus Christ has given, or will yet give to His servants, the greatest of all is to overcome themselves and to suffer for the love of God. In other gifts we cannot glory, for they are not our own ; but with the Apostle we may glory in the cross of Jesus Christ." Another conversation of these simple ones is also on record, and it might make an angel smile. When they were travelling together on one occasion, the hour of matins arrived, but they had no breviary! Francis said, " Dear brother, we have no books, but nevertheless we must sing the praises of God. I will say, ' O Brother Francis, thou hast committed so much sin on earth, that thou deservest to be cast into hell;' and thou, Brother Leo, shalt answer thus, * It is true indeed, that thou dost deserve to be cast into the very depth of hell !' " With the simplicity of a dove, brother Leo answered, "Willingly, father; let us begin." Then the Saint exclaimed, " O Brother Francis, thou hast com- mitted so many sins, and done such evil on earth that thou deservest to be cast into hell." Leo answered, "God will do so much good by thee that thou shalt be received into Paradise." Then Francis answered, " Say SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. 67 not thus, Brother Leo; but when I say, ( O Brother Francis, thou hast committed so much evil against God that thou deservest to be accursed of Him,' thou shalt reply, ' It is true ; thou art worthy of a place among the accursed.' " And again the simple-hearted friar re- plied, "Willingly, father;" but again his answer was not according to the desire of his master, for when Francis had uttered his self-accusing versicle, Leo replied, " O Brother Francis, God will show thee such favor, thou shalt be blessed even amongst the blessed." Then the Saint with gentle anger exclaimed, " Why answer est thou not as I have taught thee ? I command thee by holy obedience to repeat the words I say." Once more he began his new matins: "O Brother Francis," he cried, with many tears, " O miserable Brother Francis, after so many crimes committed against the Father of mercies and the God of all consolation, thinkest thou that He will show thee inercy ?" Brother Leo was de- sired to say, " It is too true, thou art unworthy of mercy;" but instead of these words he cried out, "God will show thee mercy and overwhelm thee with His favors." Francis could bear these praises no longer. "Why," he exclaimed, "have you acted thus against obedience, and refused to answer as I have taught you?" "My very dear father," replied Leo, "God knows I have always intended to say the words you desired me." "This time, at least, answer as I tell you," replied Francis; and again he repeated his self- accusing words. But Leo broke forth again in his master's praise, and cried out, "Thou shalt receive from God the richest mercy; thou shalt receive from God the richest mercy; thou shalt be eternally exalted and glorified by Him; for he who humbleth himself shall be exalted. I cannot say otherwise, for it is God who speaks through my mouth." 63 THE LIFE OP Those who loved each other so tenderly in life were not separated in death; the Pecorella di Dio lies at the feet of his saintly and canonized master, close to the altar where the Immaculate Lamb, whom he so much resembled in the innocence of his life, is daily offered for the faithful. Brother Bufinus next claims our attention. Of his eminent sanctity we cannot doubt, since Francis him- self declared during his life-time that he was one of the three holiest souls then on earth: "I may safely call him Saint even now, since it hath been revealed to me that he is already canonized in heaven." The old chroniclers tell us that " he was as a shining rainebow, with a beautiful variety of faire colours, and as a ver- million rose for his fervent charity, and as a white lily for his purity, yielding a most pleasing savour to the Churche of God." Kufinus was a native of Assisi, of a noble family, and nearly related to St. Clare; he was converted by the preaching of St. Francis. Soon after his entrance into the order the Saint desired him to go and preach at Assisi. His disciple was unwilling to comply with this injunction, for he was so constantly rapt in prayer that even necessary speaking had become painful to him. But with all his tenderness, Francis knew how to enforce obedience. He therefore repeated his com- mand, and as a penance for the reluctance which Rufi- nus had shown, desired him to go without his hood. The humble brother at once fell on his knees, craved the pardon and blessing of his master, and went cheer- fully to do his bidding. When he appeared in the pulpit, the good people of Assisi were not a little amazed at his appearing hoodless, and he met with more scorn than attention. They decided at once that the austerities of the friars had affected their reason. SAINT FRANCIS OF A83ISI. 69 Meanwhile the tender heart of Francis was giving him a heavier penance than he had inflicted on his disciple. " What are you doing, miserable son of Peter Bernar- clone?" he mentally ejaculated; "how can you treat a gentleman and a knight in this manner?" Then throwing off his own hood, he hastened to the church where Rufinus was preaching. At firs'; the people were inclined to treat him as they had done the friar; but when he had uttered a few burning words on the Passion of Christ, their laughter was changed to tears and they were now as ready to kneel at the feet of the brethren, and call them Saints, as they had been a short time previously to account them insane. "When Brother Rufinus was dying, Leo (or as we can scarcely choose but call him, the Pecorella) was also, it was supposed, about to receive the eternal recom- pense of his saintly life. Both at the same moment had a vision, in which they beheld the soul of Brother Bernard ascending to heaven in exceeding glory. They saw a light of wonderful brightness streaming from his eyes; this, they were told, was a recompense for his charity in judging others. If he saw a poor man in rags, he would say to himself, " This poor man observes poverty far better than I who have vowed to do so." If he saw a rich man sumptuously apparelled, he would exclaim, " This good man tries to conceal his penitential spirit; no doubt, under his costly garments he wears hair cloth, and mortifies himself far more than I do." Thus he judged well of all, and went about thanking God for the wonderful sanctity which he supposed was the possession of every one but him- self. And so Brother Bernard went to heaven. But the angels were looking for some one to accompany him. The "Little Sheep of God" thought that it might be for him they were seeking, and that he should 70 THE LITE OF then go to the eternal pastures. But Rufinus cried out, " Good Brother, it is for me the angels are wait- ing, and even now our holy Father Francis calls me." In a short time his words were verified; five days after he had seen this vision he also went to his celestial country. This holy Brother, with the assistance of Leo and Brother Angelus of Rieti, wrote the first ac- count of the life and miracles of Saint Francis. Masseo de Marignano was also of noble birth, and in addition to the high gift of contemplation with which he was favored, he was singularly attractive in his discourse and manner; so that Francis often called him to the guest-room for the edification and enter- tainment of strangers. Masseo did not over much relish this employment, but he was too perfect a religious to show the least sign of repugnance. One day Fran- cis called him and said, " Brother Masseo, your com- panions have received the gift of contemplation; you have that of fluent discourse. It is therefore right that they should give themselves to prayer without in- terruption, and that you should be employed in those active offices which suit you better. I give you, there- fore, the charge of the gate and the kitchen, and any time you have to spare after these duties are fulfilled you can employ in asking alms. Above all, take care that secular persons do not interrupt the quiet of the religious, satisfy them with some pious discourse, that no one else may be obliged to appear. Go and do all this, and you will have the merit of holy obedience." Masseo simply bowed his head, and immediately occu- pied himself in the manner prescribed. But the brethren, who tenderly loved each other, could not bear to see him thus overwhelmed with such distract- ing duties, and entirely withdrawn from the retire- ment he so much loved; they therefore came to Fran- SAINT m.VNCIS OF ASSIST. 71 cis and asked him to divide these labors amongst them. The Saint called Masseo once more, and told him their request. The holy brother, more than con- tent with whatever obedience ordained, answered sim- ply, "My father, I considered all your commands as the will of God for me." Then Francis, who could no longer contain his joy at beholding so much virtoie in liis children, broke forth into a heavenly discourse on the merit of obedience and the grace of charity, and with his blessing distributed the offices of the convent in equal measure to each. Hearing one day a discourse on humility, which was made by Brother Leo, Masseo could no longer contain Iris desire to possess this virtue in its utmost perfec- tion; so with tears and prayers, with fasts and discip- line, he strove to obtain it of God. At length he heard the voice of his Beloved addressing him thus, " Masseo, what wilt thou give Me, if I give thee this grace which thou so earnestly askest ?" " Lord," he answered, "I will give Thee all I have; I will give Thee my very eyes." Then the voice spoke once more, and said, " I will give thee without price all that thou hast asked."* From this moment to his dying hour, the life of Masseo was one unceasing prayer. At times he was so overwhelmed with Divine love that he could utter no word; but the brethren heard him moaning * In the annals of the Poor Clares, we read of a case not nnlike that of Brother Massoo. Sister Elizabeth Van den Broncke, who had the same blessed desire for the grace of humility, made it the object of her prayers, the intention of all her mortification for nine years, during which time she was employed in the meanest and mont "laborious oc- cupations of her community, and in harassing and distracting duties in the care of the kitchen and domestic arrangements. Her petition was heard, and she was frequently seen, even while engaged in her work, rapt in ecstacy, or so absorbed in God as to be -unconscious of all around. Her guardian angel and other blessed spirits were her familiar companions and constant helpers; so that afterwards, when any Sister was overwhelmed with work, her Sisters would eay, " May Elizabeth's companions come and assist you." 72 THE LIFE OF out his love in accents like the plaining of a dove.* At midnight he would arise and pray till the day had dawned, and the religions, who often watched him un- perceived, could hear that he asked only for the for- giveness of his sins, and that he might ever fulfil per- fectly the holy will of God. Then, when mass was over , he would return again to prayer, and ask for love, burning love, and then would come those plain- ing tones, for words failed him to express his desire. It is doubtful w T hether his body lies in the great church of Assisi, or in the Marches of Ancona. His soul at least drinks to its fill of those torrents of love whose droppings caused him, even here, such unutterable joy. "What shall we say of Brother Juniper; of a simpli- city so unparalleled, that no wonder if many esteemed it more akin to folly? Such a history as his is rarely met with for attainments in sanctity. Well might St. Francis exclaim: "Would to God I had a forest of such Junipers !" And well might St. Clare, whose sweet, simple spirit could appreciate his innocence, ask to have him near her as she lay dying, and call him " the pastime of Jesus." His one desire seemed to be, to meet with occasions of contempt and humiliation; and if he could not find, he took care to make them. Perhaps it was this desire, so incompre- hensible to the world, that brought on him its greatest scorn, and made him so often to be esteemed a fool. Some, indeed, knew and revered his sanctity; but they were few in number. Once he was sent to a house of the Order in Home, whither his character had already preceded him. Curiosity, or a better motive, led crowds to await his coming, but it was an unwelcome honor, * " Qtiand' egli orava faceva un giubilo, conforme a quello d'una columba." Fioretti, cap. xxxi. SAINT FEANCIS OF ASSISI. 73 and Juniper bethought him how to avoid it. Two boys were engaged in a merry game of see-saw on a low wall hard by. One of those he speedily dislodged; and, taking his place, kept up the amusement with his companion till the impatient crowd dispersed, sub- scribing to the general opinion that brother Juniper was more fool than Saint. But it was not only in the world that he met with contempt. Even among his brethren his simplicity was often a subject of ridicule, and his superiors were obliged to reprehend him severely for the mischances it occasioned, though they would afterwards declare in private their admiration of his humility and charity. One Christmas day, the sacristan, wearied with his arduous duties, left his post for a time, and confided the altar to the care of Brother Juniper. It was decked in its richest ornaments, for Francis would have no poverty exercised there. Juniper was su- premely happy at receiving such a charge, and was soon absorbed in prayer. Presently an old woman came in, and begged an alms for the love of God. The good friar had nothing to give, but he could not bear to refuse anything to the poor; they were Christs to him, and he believed, in its simplest and most literal sense, that what was asked by them or given to them, was asked by or given to his beloved Lord. Some rich fringe adorned the hangings of the altar; Juniper speedily cut it off, and satisfied the mendicant. Mean- while the sacristan returned. He had doubts as to the perfect safety of his charge, and an anxious glance around soon convinced him they were well founded. He carried his complaint to the superior, but got only the unsatisfactory reply that he might have had more discretion than to trust brother Juniper with such charge. However, the poor friar was ordered to do 74 THE LIFE OF public penance for his fault; and, saith the Chronicle, " the General (Brother John Parent) did so chapter and check him publicklie in the refectory, and with such vehemence that he got the rheume and pose withal !" This was the hardest penance of all to the tender-hearted friar, who could not bear to see his superior suffer; so he at once set out on the quest, and brought home some medicine, which he hoped would cure him. His mission of charity was not accomplished until late at night. The Father Guardian had retired to his cell, but Juniper ceased not to importune him to take what he had procured. Although he was again severely reproved, his request was at length complied with, and the Father was immediately cured. One more anecdote of his most interesting life, ere we turn to others of the saintly band. He was once in a monastery where all the brethren were required to go out for the day on an important and fatiguing mission, and they left Juniper at home in charge of the house. This was now no act of indiscretion. He had been put under strict obedience neither to give away the habit he wore, nor the common property of the religious, nor even to allow his garments to be taken from him, as he had once desired a poor man to do when perplexed between the obedience to give nothing and his extraordinary charity. Presently he remem- bered that his brothers would require some refection on their return home. Cogitating next on the length of time it took to prepare food every day for so large a community, he determined to obviate that inconve- nience, at least for a fortnight, and then, he said, we shall have so much more time for prayer. Accordingly he sallied forth with a large sack on his shoulders, and succeeded so well in his quest, that in a few hours he retured home with a load which only his good will SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. 75 could have enabled him to carry. A large fire was soon made, and an immense cauldron procured, into which he poured the contents of his wallet. Fowls with their feathers on, eggs in their shells, cheese with its rind, vegetables with their tops all were employed in the preparation of this marvellous dinner. When the friars returned Brother Juniper was at his task, and as he had found the heat almost intolerable, he had hung a large piece of board from his neck by a string to serve him as a screen. Alas, for his anticipa- tions of the pleasure he should give his superiors and brethren! Again he was publicly penanced for his fault, and for the great waste of food occasioned by his extraordinary method of cookery. But he so humbly acknowledged himself in the wrong, and so heartily accused himself *of being the greatest sinner and most useless person in his Order, that his superior could only exclaim to his companions, " "Would to God there were as much waste of food every day, if we received as much edification thereby!" Can we wonder that Brother Juniper had singular power over evil spirits, or that his prayer seemed rather an ecstasy than a petition? The Church of Ara Coeli at Rome possesses the mortal remains of this great servant of God. Brother Simeon next claims our attention. He had received no instruction in human science, scarcely the elements of the most ordinary education, yet he spoke of divine things and of the love of God so sublimely, that his words seemed rather angelical than human. He received such extraordinary consolations in prayer, that he would hide himself when he felt the first ap- proach of these celestial favors, lest his exterior should betray the joy with which his soul overflowed. Some- times he would be found so rapt in prayer, as to be unconscious of all that passed around him. Even what 76 THE LIFE OF would naturally cause pain, such as the application of burning coals to his bare feet, failed to recall him to the world of sense. He is buried in the convent of Spoleto, and many miracles wrought through his in- tercession have attested how pleasing to God had been his life. Brother Christopher was born in Bomagna, and had been some time a priest when he received his vocation to a life of poverty. He was especially devoted to the service of lepers, and showed a remarkable tenderness towards all who were in any affliction. Towards him- self he exercised an austerity almost boundless; his fasts were continual, and yet, notwithstanding all, he reached the age of one hundred years. His appear- ance and manner were peculiarly attractive, and, like many of his Order, he was remarkabfe for his cheer- fulness. He was greatly favored by visions, and a most familiar intercourse with the world of spirits. Still, neither this, nor his possession of the gift of contem- plation and tears, satisfied his delicate conscience, and he wept unceasingly, lest his sins, which he imagined so great, should be still unpardoned. One of his spir- itual children, called Brother Peter, a religious who had forsaken much that the world values, and who was re- markable for his simplicity, was especially favored by apparitions of his guardian angel. Christopher begged him to inquire of this blessed spirit how he stood in the sight of God, and soon he obtained the joyful as- surance that his sins were indeed forgiven. The night before his death he called the religious to him, and made them a long discourse on heavenly things. At six o'clock, on the vigil of All-Saints, he went to reign with them eternally. His happy departure was made known miraculously to many, particularly to two reli- gious women of the Order, who beheld him ascend to SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. 77 heaven in exceeding glory. He died at Gators, in the year of grace, 1272. Even a brief relation of the miracles said to have been worked through his inter- cession would require no small space. Of Brother Wilham, the Englishman, who took the place of the unhappy apostate, John of Capella, and whose miracles were so inconvenient to the religious, from the crowds who thronged to his tomb, we have already spoken. Besides Brother Peregrinus of Falcron, who was indeed a pilgrim on earth, and sighed unceasingly for his celestial home, there was Brother Philip the Long, first visitor and confessor of the poor Clares, -of whose life we have also recorded a miraculous circumstance. Many others were there, whose histories would fill a volume, and whose lives were as saintly as their end was blessed. With a few words of Brother Egidius, or Giles, one of the first disciples of Francis, we must turn from this part of our subject, not without regret, so beauti- ful are the old Chronicles in which their lives are nar- rated. Like many of his saintly companions, Brother Giles lived in continual prayer, and he was favored more than many in his communications with heaven. Still, his life was by no means as unemployed as those who are not familiar with such histories might suppose. Though he never preached publicly in a church, yet he would go hither and thither, as obedience prescribed, on missions of mercy, and many would gather round him to hear his exhortations. On these occasions he always refused to eat any food which had not been given either in alms, or (what he much preferred) as a payment for some laborious occupation. Once, when a cardinal had prevailed on him to be his guest, he 78 THE LIFE OF complained not a little that Egidius adhered so reso- lutely to this determination, but the holy friar simply answered, "Labores manuum tuarum quia manducabts, beatus es, et bene tibi erit" Indeed, he was in this, as in all else, a perfect model of religious poverty. His ex- ample proves that no gifts, however sublime, no inca- pacity of mind or body, however great, should exempt a religious from that spirit of labor which, under one form or other, ranks among their characteristic virtues. Once, when he could in no other way obtain an alms, he went to the kitchen of his host, and after employing himself for some time as an assistant to the cook, re- ceived payment in some broken victuals, which he car- ried to the cardinal's table, at which he was obliged to dine. Nor was his obedience less admirable. "While walking one day with a companion, he received an order from his General to go to Assisi. At once, he turned in the direction prescribed, nor could his com- panion, who urged him to return first to the convent which had been his temporary home, obtain from him any other answer than this: "Brother, I am com- manded to go to Assisi, not to the convent." And when a religious complained to him that he was sent from prayer to teg alms, and was thus obliged to leave the greater good for the lesser, Giles replied, "Brother, believe me, you know not yet what prayer is, for the most true and the most perfect is to do the will of your Superior. Like his holy father St. Francis, and many religious of the Order, he was especially devoted to the Feast of the Nativity of our Divine Lord. Once, after he had kept the Lent of St. Martin in great austerity, and had been favored with many apparitions, and even with the spiritual presence of Francis (who had at this time been dead several years,) our Divine Lord him- SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSIST. 79 self appeared to His faithful servant on Christmas Eve, and for many hours he was lost in ecstacy, and this continued with little intermission until the Epi- phany. Obedience obliged him to declare that during this time he had been caught like the Apostle Paul to Paradise, and had seen and heard what he dared not utter. After this vision, he was so frequently absorbed in God that he scarcely ever left his cell. The brethren who came to converse with him, either for their conso- lation or instruction, were obliged carefully to avoid speaking of the blessedness of heaven, or uttering the word Paradise in his hearing. If they did so he would at once lose all consciousness of exterior things. When he went abroad, which was now indeed but seldom, the people, who knew of this wonderful grace, through devotion or curiosity, would flock around him, and when some little child could be persuaded to approach him and whisper softly, " Paradise, Brother Giles ! Paradise!" they would obtain all they desired. He would at once become insensible to all around, and his body would seem as though it would fly up whither his pure and burning heart had already gone. Gregory the Ninth was at this time at Perugia. He was naturally anxious to see the friar of whom every one spoke and to witness his wonderful raptures. Brother Giles was therefore desired to appear before his Holiness. But as he entered the palace, he felt that interior sweetness and excess of spiritual joy which usually preceded his ecstacies, so he at once re- tired. His companion, however, went to the audience, and informed the Holy Eather why the humble friar had sought to defer the interview. Gregory, who greatly desired to see him in one of these raptures, sent a message to him to come without delay. Giles obeyed; but he had no sooner with great humility 80 THE LIFE OF kissed the foot of the Sovereign Pontiff, than he fell into a rapture, and remained immovable, his eyes raised towards heaven. " Verily," exclaimed the Pope, " if thou die before me, I will seek no other miracle to canonize thee."* Once, when Gregory came to his cell, he could not enjoy the converse he desired; the poor friar was unconscious even of his presence. At another time, when the Pope had asked him to dine at his palace, Giles fell into so long an ecstacy, that sup- per time had come, and he had not yet returned to himself. The cardinals, who much desired to hear him speak on spiritual things, advised the Pontiff to put him under obedience to return to them in spirit as well as in body. No sooner did the command issue from his lips, than Giles, who before had appeared like a corpse, and had proved insensible alike to fire, cold, and pain, returned at once to his usual state, and fall- ing at the feet of the Pope, asked pardon for his faults. The joyous manner and extreme affectionateness of this saintly friar, made persons eagerly seek to be in his company; but he loved solitude, for there he could give free vent to the love that consumed him. Some- times he was seen embracing the trees and kissing the flowers ; for so greatly did he love God, that even in- animate things, as being the work of His hands, were inexpressibly dear to him. He was often seen raised from the ground while assisting at Holy Mass, partic- ularly on the Feast of the Nativity. If any one spoke to him of the Church, he could scarcely contain the fervor of his love and devotion, and would exclaim, " O holy Mother, O Roman Church ! ignorant and miserable as we are, we do not know thee; nor can we understand or value as we ought, the zeal and charity * This baa been made the subject of a striking picture by Murillo. t SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. 81 whereby thou laborest to save us. Thou teachest us the way of salvation, thou dost direct us in the right and secure path, wherein he that walketh cannot stray; and he that seeketh and followeth another shall only find therein eternal damnation." St. Bonaventura especially loved this holy friar. Once, as they conversed together, Brother Egidius said, " Father, God has bestowed many graces on you who are learned, but what shall we do to save our- selves, who are but poor ignorant creatures?" "If," replied St. Bonaventura, " God had bestowed on us nothing but the gift of divine love, it would suffice, because love is more pleasing to Him than anything else we can offer." "Tell me, then," continued Giles, "if an ignorant person .can love God as well as a learned man." " A simple poor old woman may love God as much, or more, than a doctor of theology," was the reply. No sooner was it uttered than the friar ran into the garden, and standing at the gate, cried aloud, "Poor ignorant people, love God and Jesus Christ, and you shall be greater than Brother Bonaventura." A friar of another Order, who had some hesitation of mind regarding the inost pure virginity of the Mother of God, went to consult him on the subject. Egidius knew his difficulty before he had time to explain it, and greeted him with these words, " Brother preacher, she is a virgin before childbirth, a virgin in childbirth, and a virgin after childbirth." Even as he spoke, he struck the ground three times with his staff, and three pure lilies sprang up at his feet to attest the truth of his assertion. As the saintly king Louis of France was on his pil- grimage to the shrine of St. Francis, he stopped at Perugia, desiring to see this wonderful brother. They 4* 02l THE LIFE OF met, and spent some time on their knees, embracing each other with the tenderest affection. Then the king rose and pursued his journey, but no word had been spoken by either. The companions of Brother Egidius reproached him with want of courtesy to his distinguished guest. But he told them to have no such apprehension; since God had revealed to each what passed in the heart of the other, and they had thus communicated far more intimately than if their thoughts had been expressed. Brother Giles died at Perugia. "When it was known that his end was near, the inhabitants, who greatly feared to lose the mortal remains of so great a Saint, set a guard round the convent, as they knew he wished to be buried at St. Mary of the Angels. When the dying brother heard it he exclaimed, " Tell the Peru- gians that the bells shall never ring for my canoniza- tion, nor for any miracle of mine ; and I give them the sign of the prophet Jonas." His words were verified to the letter. When they sought where and how to entomb him, they found a marble sarcophagus, on which was sculptured the history of Jonas,* and in this they laid his body. He went home on the eve of the Festival of St. George, 1260. There was no death struggle, no agony; but lying back on his straw pallet, he simply closed his eyes to the light of earth, to open them, we may not doubt, in the radiance of His face who is the light of the Jerusalem above. Fifty-two years before, and on the same day, he had received the holy habit of his Order from its saintly founder. * A very frequent subject of representation on the tombs of the early Christians, and often repeated in the Eoman Catacombs, as typical of death and resurrection, in the sense referred to by our Lord, St. Matt., xii. 39, 40. SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSIST. 83 CHAPTER Francis founds the Second Order. The vocation of St. Clare. Her holy childhood. She attends the preaching of Francis during the Lent of 1212. Palm Sunday at Assisi. Clare leaves her father's house forever. Is followed by her younger sister Agnes. The auger of the Count de Scefi. Miracles coniimi her vocation. Her character as Abbess. A KELIGIOUS order of men without its counterpart among the weaker sex, could scarcely (if at least we speak of the more ancient establishments) be con- sidered as a thing complete. The work of creation was perfected when male and female were endowed with existence to the image and likeness of God; and if the first Eve brought ruin on him whose helpmate and solace she would have been, the second Eve has more than compensated for that transgression, and once more raised her sex to the dignity which it had all but forfeited. The Friars Minor were now an established Order, with their special" mission and character. It only re- mained that their form of life should be embraced by some courageous and heroic woman, to inaugurate among her sex a share in their sufferings and their merits. The noble lady, Clara de Scefi, was the instru- ment chosen by Divine Providence for this blessed work. In the neighborhood of Assisi may still be seen the ruins of the old castle of Sasso Rosso. Here dwelt the chevalier Favorino de Scefi, the father of St. Clare. Her mother's name was Ortolana. She too was of noble birth, her father being a scion of the illustrious house of the Fiumi. The lady Ortolana was long childless; but, after a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, where she poured out her tears and prayers at the 84 THE LITE OF Crib and the Sepulchre of our Lord, her desire of be- coming a happy mother was granted. Soon after her return, the little Clare was born, and so named in con- sequence of a supernatural voice which the mother had heard while engaged in prayer: "Fear not, for thou shalt bring forth a light, which shall illuminate the whole world." It is said that the little one was born with a smile on her infant lips a presage of that singular sweet- ness of character which was one of her most attractive virtues. We know but little of her childhood, but that little was full of promise of her future sanctity. Her spirit of mortification manifested itself at a very early age. She denied herself even the innocent pleasures of amusements of childhood; if this can be called a self- denial, when her pleasures and recreations were of another kind. For the poor, whom she tenderly loved, she would deprive herself even of necessaries, while all dainty meats and delicacies were concealed to be bestowed on them. She soon learned to mortify her- self by disciplines, and by hair-cloth worn under the rich attire in which her parents required her to appear. Her prayer was continual; and as the use of beads was then unknown, she counted her Paters and Aves on little stones. At the age of fifteen her parents urged upon her the thought of marriage. As she was singularly beautiful, and the heiress of their ancient house, many nobles came forward to ask her hand. But Clare had already dedicated her heart to a celes- tial Spouse, and only waited for some clear indication of the will of Heaven that she might give herself irrevoca- bly to these blessed nuptials, while her parents, think- ing it was affection for them which made her unwilling to leave her home, ceased to urge the matter further. SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. 85 Francis preached the Lent of 1212 in the church of St. George of Assisi, and Clare, with her kinswoman Bona Guelfuccio, attended constantly at his instruc- tions. It was now revealed to her that he was the guide for whom she had so long sought the one who should lead her in the much-desired path of perfection. It was also made known to the holy patriarch that Clare should be his coadjutor in the glorious work that lay before him. Their first interview is thus touchingly described in an old English translation of the Chroni- cles of the Order: " Then was she inflamed with divine love and moved by his holy actions, which she admired, as seeming unto her more than human. And therefore she began very exquisitely to dispose herselfe to the effecting of the words of the holy servante of God; who having very lovingly entertained her began to preach unto her the contempt of the world, and that all the beauty of thinges present is but vanity, filled with false and deceitful hopes. Then he persuaded unto her pure ears the honourable and amiable espousel of Jesus Christ, and counsayled her to conserve that most pre- cious peaiie of virginal purity for that most glorious Spouse, who out of love He bore to. the world, being God, became Man, and would be borne of a virgin." Clare had but one object in view, to give herself wholly to her Beloved; therefore, when Francis pro- posed that there should be no delay, the pure and in- nocent victim of Divine love neither hesitated nor doubted in her obedience. The Feast of Palms was kept in the old city of Assisi that year on the 18th of March. Clare, accompanied by her mother and her sister Agnes, attended its solemn and heart-stirring ceremonies. All had gone up to receive the palms from the hands of their venerable bishop. But the Lady Clare remained in her place, unconscious and absorbed 86 THE LIFE OF in prayer. The prelate, either from respect to her de- votion, or urged by a divine inspiration, left his place at the altar, and proceeding towards her, presented her with the symbol of victory. For the last time she took her place in the mournful triumphs of the day, ming- ling with the procession of dames and knights, all ar- rayed like herself in their richest costumes and bright- est jewels. But there was a joy in her sorrow, even like the joy which the exiled feel when they think of the day when they may hope once more to see their father- land. The hour of release from earthly ties and earthly fears was near; soon, very soon, she would be a maiden "dedicate to Christ;" one of those thrice blessed souls whose nightly dream and daily thought is still " Of Him who is the sun to that pale flower, The virgin's heart." Her friend and kinswoman Bona was again her con- fidante. Francis had advised her on the following night to leave her home forever, and, lest her design should be frustrated, to conceal her intention. When all had retired to rest that night, the Saint and her companion fled in noiseless haste. Nor was a miracle wanting to confirm their faith and courage. Unable to open the great gate of the castle, they sought egress by a small postern door, usually left open. To their dismay, this was barricaded with large stones ; but Divine Providence gave them a supernatural strength, and they were able to remove these impediments to their flight, though they scarcely knew how the labor was accomplished. The little chapel of St. Mary of the Angels was their destination. There they were wel- comed by Francis and his brethren, who came out to meet them with songs of thanksgiving. After a mov- ing exhortation to the young bride of Jesus Crucified, he clothed her with the poor habit and cord of his Or- SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. 87 der, and, cutting off her long hair, placed the conse- crated veil upon her head. The magnificent dress and ornaments which she wore at the ceremony were given to the poor. At the altar of Mary Immaculate, and in the hands of her saintly father in Christ, she pronounced the three solemn vows of religion. And, says the old Chronicle, "it was, indeed, convenient that this new order of flourishing virginity should begin in the an- gelicall pallace of that most emminent Lady, who had bin alone a mother and a virgin, and consequently more worthy than all others. In the very same place had the noble chevalrie of the poore of Jesus Christ, the Frere Minors, had their beginning under the valourous captaine St. Francis; to the end it might evidently ap- peare that the mother of God in this her habitation did engender both of these religious, and equally cover with her mantle her first and second Order of Franciscans." When morning came, a cry of grief and indignation resounded through the old castle of Sasso Rosso. Its brightest ornament, its fairest flower, the heiress of its wealth and hopes had fled and whither ? To follow the steps of a wandering friar, who had already re- ceived little else than scorn as the meed of his heroic sanctity. In our day, an independent line of action is rather a matter of commendation than of reproach, and women appear in positions which, in a former age, would have been considered quite incompatible with the retirement that should characterize their sex. Hence it is difficult to estimate the courage and self- devotedness which enabled one so young, so delicately nurtured, to brave the world's opinion and contempt, and to enter on a path untried and most painful to na- ture. But a father's anger and a mother's tears were alike foreseen and accepted as a part of that chahce of 88 THE LIFE OP suffering which the spouse must share with her celes- tial Bridegroom. As soon as Clare had made her solemn profession and received the holy habit of her Order, Francis led her to the convent of the Benedictine Dames of St. Paul, and again this grand old Order sheltered and protected the poor ones of Jesus Christ. Her retreat was soon discovered, and the Count de Scefi, with all the characteristic passionateness of an Italian noble, sought and demanded his child. But Clare calmly uncovered her head, shorn of its natural ornament, and declared her intention never to re-assume her former position in her father's house. Her quiet determina- tion of manner was not without its effect, and for a time she was left unmolested. In a few days Francis removed his young disciple to another Benedictine monastery, that of St. Angelo, which was nearer to Assisi. But the vocations in the family of Scefi were not yet complete. Agnes, the younger sister of our Saint, her companion, her friend, her treasure, was also fain to be the disciple of Francis and of poverty; and scarcely had Clare been a fortnight absent from the paternal mansion, when the little Agnes followed, and asked if she might not also be the spouse of the Immaculate Lamb. Clare received her sister with open arms. Since their short separation she had not ceased to pray that the favor granted to herself might be extended to the companion of her childhood. "Sweet sister!" she exclaimed, " I will give eternal praise to God, who has heard and answered my most earnest desire." This joyous meeting was soon followed by a storm. Scarcely had Agnes arrived ere her indignant father demanded that his child should be restored to him; SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. OU and truly it seemed hard that this mendicant brother, whom some called Saint and some fanatic, could find no other subjects than the children of a wealthy noble, to embrace his strange rule of poverty and humiliation. Beautiful indeed it was, and heart-thrilling, to hear him preach in the Lenten time of the contempt of riches and worldly vanities, and of the poverty and sufferings of the God-man. It was grand and soul- siirring to behold the devotedness of his companions, and the prompt gladness with which they forsook home and earthly joys. All this was well. But it was quite another matter to see the nearest and dearest fly from the domestic hearth, and leave a vacant place there, never again to be filled. Count Favorino de Scefi rea- soned as most parents reason under like circumstances; and felt as most parents feel when a similar case occurs in their domestic circle. His piety, and that of his noble lady, suffered indeed a severe trial, and one which few can bear with calmness. The gentle Ortolana wept heart-broken for her beloved child, little imagining that in a few short years she would herself receive the same vocation, and correspond to it as faithfully. As is usual in such cases, the friends of the Count de Scefi were jiot slow in urging him to take an active part in recovering his daughters. They determined that Agnes at least should return home; and so, ac- companied by a party of his nearest kinsmen, Favorino set out for the Monastery of St. Angelo. At first they used persuasions and entreaties; but finding that Agnes was as resolute as her sister, they determined on measures more effective. Clare was but eighteen, Agnes four years younger ; still they calmly and courageously bore up through these stormy scenes. At length these valiant knights seized the little Agnes, and was determined that nothing but main forco 90 THE LIFE OF should be the means of her leaving the monastery, they dragged her from it. Heedless of her cries and suffer- ings, they succeeded in bringing her some distance. But here a difficulty occurred which they had not an- ticipated. The body of the holy maiden suddenly be- came so ponderous that their united efforts were un- able to raise it from the ground; and so these twelve strong-armed men were foiled in their attack on a poor weak child. The prayers of her sister Clare had obtained this grace. It was followed by another mir- acle. The indignation of her uncle, the Count Mon- aldo, was only increased by the difficulty that had occurred. He raised his hand to strike a blow on the head of Agnes, which must have proved fatal; sud- denly his arm was struck by an invisible power, and fell nerveless by his side. Nor was its use restored until some days after, when he obtained this favor through the intercession of her whom it had been raised to harm. Meanwhile Clare, who had followed at a distance, drew near, and begged they would at least leave her the body of her sister; for the rough treatment she had received had left her apparently lifeless. The knights withdrew, baffled and disap- pointed, and Clare with her young charge returned to the monastery. Francis now gave the holy habit to this young disciple of poverty, and desired her to re- tain her sweet name of Agues, in memory of the Im- maculate Lamb for whose love she had already suf- ferred so much. Francis then placed the sisters at St. Damian's. It will be remembered that he had already predicted the establishment of a society of holy women in that place. Many were now found desirous to imitate the heroic example of those first female disciples of poverty, and before the close of the year Clare found herself abbess SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSIST. 91 of a considerable community. In this office, which she accepted with the greatest reluctance, and only in. obedience to the command of Francis, her character shone forth with singular beauty. Perhaps few supe- riors have ever governed with such wise and gentle love, and such deep humility. She made her office a pretext for humiliations. No employment was too lowly for this young maiden, who had been reared in all the luxury and refinement of a noble family. Once, when washing the feet of a lay-Sister who had just re- turned from a weary day's questing, the foot which she held in her hand was accidentally withdrawn, and as accidentally she received in this way a violent blow in the face. Neither disconcerted nor displeased, Clare calmly and tenderly pressed her lips to the foot which had been unwittingly the cause of her pain, and con- tinued her pious occupation. Her austerities have seldom been equalled, and they were as frequent as they were painful to flesh and blood. She always wore hair cloth of the roughest kind. Her cilice is still preserved, a most precious relic, by the Poor Clares at Assisi. It is so rough and so full of sharp-pointed bristles, that it cannot be handled without pain; yet this was worn for years, not only without complaint but with joy, by a female deli- cately nurtured and constantly suffering in health. During Lent and from the Feast of All-Saints till Christmas, she fasted on bread and water, and even this she denied herself on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays of Lent. Her prayer was ceaseless, and her vigils many and protracted. Scarcely could her chil- dren bear to recall her to the world of sense, so joyous and beautiful was the light that shone on her angelic countenance as she conversed with God. But with all her austerity towards herself, Clare was 92 THE LIFE OF full of tenderness towards her spiritual children, espe- cially those whose souls or bodies needed her maternal care. In the cold winter nights she would glide softly from cell to cell, to see that they had all the protection from the severity of the season which their austere rule allowed, and if any, not yet inured to its hardness, were suffering from hunger or cold, she would not rest till they were comforted and refreshed. She had, more- over, a special power of soothing the tempted and sor- rowful. With a winning, gentle love, peculiarly her own, she would draw from them an avowal of their griefs; then, if all else failed, she would even fall at their feet and implore them to weep no more, and thus "put away the force of their grief with her motherly cherishings." Nor were her Sisters unthankful for such love. Few superiors were so tenderly cherished, so deeply loved by their children as the young abbess of St. Damian's. The same sweet spirit still lingers, dove- like, in the cloistered homes of the Poor Clares, and there are successors of that dear Saint who preside with as heavenly a grace, and as thoughtful a charity, over the children of Francis and Clare. CHAPTER Yin. Death of the Count de Scefi. Agnes founds a convent at Florence. The poverty of the Poor Clares. Their holy rule is drawn up by the Cardinal Protector and St. Francis. Bread and oil miraculously multiplied by the prayers of St. Clare. She works many miracles by the Sign of the Cross. Blesses bread by order of the Pope. Deliv- ers her monastery and the town of Assisi, twice from the armies of the impious Frederic. She receives a spiritual favor on the Feast of the Nativity and on Maunday-Thursday. Her death. Agnes' visit. Poor Clares who lived in the same century. THE Count de Seen lived ten years after his daugh- ter's consecration to God. Before his death his proud spirit had been subdued, and he no longer murmured SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. 93 at her choice or grieved that he had no heir to his vast possessions. The prayers of Francis had obtained his conversion. Ortolana was now free from earthly ties : she had long been a penitent of the third Order of St. Francis, but in her widowhood she sought and obtained a higher grace. Having distributed her goods to the poor, she joined her saintly child at St. Damian's, leav- ing the little Beatrice, her only remaining daughter, to the care of her uncle Monaldo. At eighteen, Beatrice also followed her mother and sisters. The sanctity of Ortolana was so great that Francis frequently sent sick persons to her for healing. Beatrice, a few years after her profession, was the foundress of several communi- ties. Both went to their eternal reward some time be- fore the death of St. Clare. The gentle, affectionate Agnes, was soon separated from the sister whom she so tenderly loved. It must have been a severe trial to both ; but perhaps the sepa- ration was as necessary for their own perfection as for the extension of the Order, since there is danger even in the most sanctified human affection. Three years after the foundation of the Order at Assisi, Francis sent Agnes to Florence. There she founded the Convent of Monticelli, and thence, thirty years later, she was summoned to attend the death-bed of her sister. A letter is still extant, touchingly beautiful in its simpli- city and child-like affection, written by Agnes to Claro after their separation. It will tell us how necessary this parting was, and how much the holy sufferings which it caused must have glorified God. " AGNES, THE POOR SERVANT OF JESUS, TO THE MOST BELOVED CLARE, HER VENERABLE MOTHER AND MISTRESS IN CHRIST JESUS, AND HER COMMUNITY : " It is the condition of created things never to remain in ono estate, thus it often happens that at the moment of our greatest happiness we are suddenly plunged into a sea of misery. Know, 94 THE LITE OF then, my mother, that my heart is full of grief and deep sadness. What do I not suffer by being separated from you you with whom I had hoped to have lived and died ? I see the beginning of my sorrow, but I do not see its termination. It is one of those troubles which ever increases, and to which one can see no end ; it is a dark shadow ever darkening, a weary oppression which cannot be cast away. I had thought that those who were united in heaven by the same faith and the same conver- sation, would have on earth the same manner of life, and the same death that the same tomb would enclose those of the same blood and the same nature ; but I was deceived. I am forsaken, and my soul is overwhelmed with sorrow. " my sweet Sisters, pity me, weep with me, and pray God that you may never suffer so terrible a trial. Believe me, that there is no sorrow like this sorrow ; a sorrow which wrings my heart, a languor which wearies me continually, a fire which con- sumes me without ceasing. Afflictions pressed me on every side. Oh ! of your charity help me by your holy prayers, that God may give me strength to support them. my Mother, what shall I do ? What shall I say, I who never hope to see you or my Sisters again ? Oh, that I could express to you ull that I feel ! Oh, that I could open my long grief to you in this letter! My heart is continually consumed with the fire of affliction. I sigh and weep, and seek for a consolation which I can never find. I am burthened with sorrow upon sorrow, and I sink under the sad thought that I shall never see you more. No one here can understand my grief. " But I have one consolation, and you will rejoice in it with me ; it is in the perfect harmony which reigns in our commu- nity. I was received with great joy and satisfaction, and all have promised me obedience with the utmost respect and de- votion. All recommend themselves to God and to you. Think of us often, and regard them, as well as myself, as daughters and sisters who will be always ready to follow your advice and obey your commands. Our Holy Father the Pope has been pleased to acquiesce in my desire concerning the matter you know of. Beg Brother Elias, from me, to visit and console us oftener. Farewell." SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. S)5 The matter alluded to regarded her practice of pov- erty, in which Agnes was as earnest and fervent as her saintly sister could desire. So deeply were both at- tached to this virtue, that it was hard to content their wishes. The Cardinal Ugolini drew up the first rule for the Poor Clares; but this did not satisfy their abbess, and on the return of Francis from his mission to the East, she complained to him of its mitigations. The holy patriarch represented her wishes to the Car- dinal, who was his friend and the protector of his Order. The prelate was moved even to tears, that a poverty which seemed to the Papal wisdom almost too great for men, should be thus earnestly desired by weak and helpless women. The result of their conference was a fresh Rule, which gave Clare all she desired. It was thus it de- clared what the poverty of her children must be : 'Let the religious appropriate nothing to themselves; let them serve God in this world as pilgrims and strangers in all poverty and humility, asking alms with confidence. Nor shall they be ashamed to do this, for our Lord Jesus Christ made Himself poor for us in this world. It is the sublimity of this most exalted poverty, my sweet Sisters, which makes us heirs of the celestial kingdom." In the early days of the Order, the Poor Clares sub- sisted entirely on alms; but as the fervor of the faith- ful or their interest in the new institute cooled, it was found necessary that some of its houses should be no longer quite dependent on charity the vow of enclo- sure, which was taken later, and their withdrawal from the government of the friars, making it desirable that they should have a provision for their absolute necessi- ties, which they could no longer beg or obtain through the questing brothers. But though the poverty of the Poor Clares, in some 96 THE LIFE OF houses of the Order, differs in its literal exactions from that so ardently desired by their sainted foundress, its spirit is still the same, and is preserved and practiced in proportion to the fervor of the superiors and reli- gious of its several convents. The essence and true spirit of poverty consists not so much in having nothing (for even the poorest must possess some trifle of their own) as in holding what we have dependently on the will of another, so that we can no longer call it ours. A vow of poverty may be made, and sacredly kept, by those whose fare is neither poor nor common; but the child of St. Clare, who would carry out the spirit of her Order in its essential characteristic, must have no other than the poorest and commonest food, the plainest and coarsest clothing a trial by no means light to those whose previous station has made luxu- ries almost necessary. When this spirit of poverty is carried into the minutest details of conventual life when the merest trifle possessed by the religious may at any moment be given to another; when the time, the occupations, the whole exterior life, is in a spirit of poverty, no longer considered or used as their own; when the permission of a superior is necessary to re- ceive or give in the smallest matter, and this permis- sion not granted, as in other Orders, in a general way, but required in each instance then surely the Poor Clare who is faithful to her observances, who treasures her poverty in memory of the homeless cradle and tomb of Jesus Christ, can scarcely be far from that perfection of utter self-renunciation which is the special end of her sublime vocation. Nor was this practice of poverty without its trials, even in the lifetime of the saintly Clare. Once, when a severe famine raged in the Italian States, the procuratrix came to inform the abbess of St. Damian's SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. 97 that only one loaf remained for the use of the religious. She was desired to divide it into two portions; to send half to the friars, who dwelt in the extern house, and with the remainder to give the religious their next meal in the refectory. "But, mother," exclaimed the Sister, " this would require a miracle, since we need sufficient for fifty portions." Clare, who with all her gentleness knew well the merit of obedience, and how to enforce it when necessary, calmly replied, " My child, do simply what I command you." Sister Cecilia obeyed, and this morsel of bread was miraculously multiplied into an abundant supply for the whole community. At another time, when their little store of oil was ex- hausted, the Saint, having washed the vessel in which it had been kept, desired it to be placed in the turn, so that the friar who quested for them might beg a little for their use. But great was his astonishment, when he came, to find it filled with the purest oil, and as he exclaimed at the carelessness of the nuns in giv- ing him this unnecessary trouble, the miracle was thus manifested. The paternal heart of Gregory the Ninth, and the peculiar tenderness he bore towards the Franciscan Order, had made "him unwilling to grant all that Clare desired regarding her practice of poverty. Once he visited her, and endeavored to dissuade her from her great strictness on this point, adding that if she feared an infringement of her vow he would absolve her from it. With the sweetness of manner and inflexible firm- ness of character which always marked the conduct of this Saint, she replied, " Holy Father, I shall be very joyful if your Holiness will please to absolve me from my sins, but I dare take no absolution from performing the counsels of God." The sanctity of Clare, and the gift of wisdom and 5 98 THE LIFE OF clear judgment with which she was singularly endowed, led many to visit her and seek her counsel. Francis himself, as we shall see later, was desirous to be guided by her in important matters, and Popes and Cardinals did not disdain to ask the advice of this gentle maiden. A miracle of special interest is related as having oc- curred during one of these visits. The Holy Father, (whether Innocent or his predecessor, Gregory, is doubtful,*) visited the convent of the Poor Clares. After a spiritual conference, our Saint desired that some refreshment should be brought to him. Kneeling humbly, she begged that he would bless the bread which she placed before him. The Pope, either to try her humility or her obedience, desired that she would herself give the benediction. But the Saint exclaimed : " Holy Father, pardon; for I should deserve reprehen- sion were I to give a benediction in your presence." Then the Pope replied, " In order that no presumption may be imputed to you, and that you may merit there- by, I command you in holy obedience to bless this bread, making thereon the sign of the Cross." The Saint obeyed in all simplicity, and her obedience 'and humility were rewarded by a miracle, for the sign of the Cross remained clearly impressed on each portion of the bread, part of which was eaten with devotion, and part preserved as a precious relic. Nor was this the only instance in which Clare ef- fected miracles by the holy sign. Many are the favors related as having been vouchsafed to her spiritual chil- dren, and even to strangers, who nocked from all parts of the country for the cure of their diseases. The gentle touch of her saintly hand, and the sign of the Cross made by it, never failed of effect. But all was done silently, and with as little observation as possible. * See " St. Glare, St. Colette, and the Poor Clares," p. 2. SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI. 99 While much of her marvellous graces became known during her lifetime, far more remained to be told by her children, and others whom she had assisted, when the process for her canonization demanded a rigorous and searching inquiry into the truth of these marvels. Her life was a hidden one, as the life of a cloistered nun must ever be. The world obtains glimpses now and then of the deep things, the rich graces, the supernatural gifts, bestowed so abundantly on those privileged souls; but glimpses they are at best. The day of manifestation yet tarries ; then their hidden mortifications, their heroic sanctity, will shine forth, and all flesh shall glorify their Father who is in heaven. Twice only does Clare appear before her age in a way likely to attract its observation, or to impress it mani- festly with her sanctity. Of these two events we must now speak briefly. The impious Frederic had already made Europe ring with the report of his cruel deeds, and insolent resis- tance to the Holy See. Not satisfied with the ravages committed by his own troops, he called the Moors to his assistance ; and himself, nominally a Christian, dyed his soul yet deeper in crime by urging their barbarism to wreak itself especially on the Papal States. His most sacred oaths to Honorius, his coronation by the hands of the Pope in Home, were alike forgotten; and when Gregory the Ninth reluctantly placed him under the Church's censure, his proud spirit sought to revenge itself by unheard-of outrages. The valley of Spoleto was already filled with these savage troops, and the Moors, thirsting for Christian blood, were encamped beneath the walls of Assisi. The terrified nuns ran trembling to the cell of their Mother, on whom years of ceaseless austerity and the heavy cares of her office had now done their work: she had long lain on a bed 100 THE LIFE OF of painful sickness. But her holy zeal for the Divine honor thus insulted, and her maternal love, aroused the courage of her heart. In spite of the remon- strances of her children, who trembled for her precious life, she caused herself to be carried to the church, and there, prostrate before the Blessed Sacrament, she poured forth her prayer. In a few moments she arose, and with a supernatural strength proceeded to the battlements of the convent but not alone. In her hand she held the Eemonstrance, and bore in it the Sacramental Presence of her God. When the savage army beheld the light and glory which streamed forth from it, they ceased their wild shouts and yells of ex- ecration, and fell back trembling and dismayed. It is related in the Chronicles of the Order, that while St Clare lay prostrate befor