ESTABLISHMENT OF THE ORDER.
"Would you know, oh world, these Warriors; Go where the poor, the old,
Ask for pardon and for heaven, and you offer food and gold;
With healing and with comfort, with words of peace and prayer,
Bearing His greatest gift to men--Christ's chosen priests are there."
It was not long before the little hut by the Riva Torto was full to
overflowing. The number of brethren had increased so, that there was
only just space for them to lie down at night, each under the beam
upon which his name had been chalked. It was a poor abode enough, but
poor though it was, they were not destined to have its shelter long.
One day when they were all engaged in prayer, a peasant noisily threw
open the door, and driving his ass right on top of the kneeling
occupants cried--
"Go in, go in, Bruno, we shall be better off here."
There was nothing to do but get out. The hut was not theirs, and
neither was there room for an extra man and a beast! They next betook
themselves to the Portiuncula, where they built themselves huts or
cells. The Portiuncula was the last church that Francis restored, and
one always especially dear to him. A little later it was given to the
friars for their own use.
From the Portiuncula the brothers travelled all round the
country-side, two by two, in true apostolic fashion. Some followed the
peasants into the fields, and as they shared their labors, sang and
talked of the love of Christ. For days, perhaps, they would live and
eat and sleep with the field hands, and then pass, always singing, on
their way, leaving hearts that had been touched, behind them. Others
sought the lazar-house, and spent their time in helping the brothers
tend the sick. They were always welcome here, and very often difficult
cases were reserved for their care. In the towns they met with a very
different reception. There they were considered "fair game" for
anybody who wished to tease or persecute or mock them. Some people
called them mad and lazy, others who believed in their good intent
said that if they wanted to be religious, there were plenty of Orders
they could join which would not be so austere. Even the Bishop of
Assisi, who always called Francis his son, said to him once,
"Your way of living, without owning anything, seems to me very harsh
and difficult."
[Sidenote: _On the Right Lines._]
Francis, sure that he was on the right lines, replied,
"If we possessed property we should have need of arms for its defence,
for it is the source of quarrels and lawsuits, and the love of God and
one's neighbor usually finds many obstacles therein! This is why we do
not desire temporal goods."
As the months went on, Francis and his doings attracted more and more
attention. They were the talk of the country. The families of those
brothers who had given away their possessions could not forgive them
for so doing, and attacks from these quarters were bitter and severe.
Disappointed heirs could find nothing too evil to say against the
foolishness and madness of their friar relatives. From this point of
view, many families found the brotherhood very alarming, and parents
trembled when their sons took any interest in it, lest they too should
join it. The clergy naturally felt somewhat distrustful of the doings
of these strange lay-workers. So, taking it altogether, whether he
liked it or not, Francis was the most talked of man in Assisi. The
more people flocked to him and got converted, the more his enemies
slandered him.
It was this state of things that led him to take his entire
force--numbering twelve--to Rome, and there beg the Pope to sanction
their mode of work. It was a bold undertaking, and when it was first
presented to the twelve they shrank back in horror at the presumption
of such a thing! But Francis had made up his mind and nothing could
move him.
How was he, Francis, young, without any interest, and a stranger to
all churchly usages, to get to see the Pope? the brethren asked him.
Francis didn't know. Probably he cared less. Anyway, God had told him
to go.
Then the brethren pleaded their simplicity. How they should
look--travel-stained, bare-footed, and coarse-robed, at the court of
Rome! This argument carried no weight whatever with their leader, and
his faith prevailing, they set out. Just as they were about to start,
Francis said "Let us choose one of us to be our Chief. We will go
whither he wills to go, we will sojourn where he wills us to sojourn."
The rest agreeing, Bernardo di Quintavelle was chosen as leader.
[Sidenote: _Bishop Guido._]
As soon as they arrived in Rome they discovered that unexpected help
was right at hand. Guido, the good Bishop of Assisi, was in the city,
and he met them accidentally just as they arrived. He was a little
discomposed at first--seeing the entire brotherhood he immediately
jumped to the conclusion that they were about to settle in Rome.
However, Francis soon told him the object of their journey, and he
promised to do the very best he could for them. Guido had a friend in
Rome, Cardinal John, of Sabina. This man was godly and devoted, one
who had never been carried away by the grandeur of his position, and
he was always a friend of anybody who tried to work for God. Guido had
already told him the story of Francis, and said that it was his belief
that God meant to do great things through that simple man and his
followers. Now that they had turned up so unexpectedly, he hastened to
introduce them to John and let him judge them for himself. The
Cardinal saw them, and talked to them, and was convinced in his own
mind that they were divinely led. Still, he thought he would like to
try Francis a little further. Taking him to one side, he asked him a
number of questions about his work and its difficulties.
"It is beyond your strength," he said, when he had heard him, and went
on to advise him to join some already existing Order, or else, if he
liked, lead the life of a hermit. Francis listened politely, but still
kept to his purpose.
"You are mistaken," persisted the Cardinal. "It is much better to
follow the beaten tracks."
Francis, equally persistent, kept to his point, and then the Cardinal,
who would have been sorry had his advice been taken, entered heartily
into his plans, and promised to support him with the Pope.
As these interviews occupied several days, Francis became impatient at
the delay. Nobody knows how he did it, but he succeeded unaided in
getting into the Palace, and presenting himself and his brethren
before the astonished eyes of the Pope! The Pope was walking in a
secluded gallery, meditating mournfully on the declension of the
Church of God, and trying to think what would remedy the growing
evils, when his meditations were abruptly cut short by what looked to
him like a troop of beggars. He was annoyed, and sent them off about
their business before they could explain what they wanted.
[Sidenote: _A Dream._]
That night the Pope dreamed a strange dream. He thought he saw a tiny
palm tree spring up at his feet, which immediately grew and grew till
it became a splendid tree. When he awoke, the conviction was strong in
his mind that the poor man he had turned away the day before was none
other than this little tree. And as he was thinking over his dream,
Cardinal John came in, and said--
"I have found a man whom I look upon as very perfect. He is resolved
to follow literally the teachings of Christ, and I have no doubt that
God intends to make use of him to reanimate faith on the earth."
The Pope was struck with what he said, for he was convinced in his own
mind that this was none other than the man he had driven away. He
concealed his feelings from the Cardinal, and merely said he should
like to see him. The Cardinal sent for Francis and his twelve, who
speedily appeared, and the Pope saw at once they were the beggars of
yesterday. He welcomed Francis warmly, and went into the rule he had
drawn up for his life, and that of his brotherhood. This rule has not
come down to us, but from various sources we learn that it was merely
a string of Bible verses, Christ's directions to His apostles,
including those that had been Francis' own commission. The Pope
listened to all that Francis had to say, then he said--
[Sidenote: _Hesitation._]
"My children, the life to which you aspire seems hard and difficult.
Doubtless your fervor is great, and we have no anxiety on your
account, but it is our duty to consider those who will come after you.
We must not impose upon them a burden they cannot bear. All this
requires serious reflection." Then he dismissed them, saying he would
lay the matter before the Cardinals.
Well, the question was put to the Cardinals, and they talked and
talked and talked. One said one thing, another said another, and most
of them had some objection to raise. They said he went beyond due
limits, that human nature could not long endure such a life, and
altogether they showed by their conversation, how very, very far they,
the leaders of a Church who claimed to follow the steps of the lowly
Nazarene, had departed from the initial simplicity of the Gospel.
Probably some idea of this sort was in Cardinal John's mind when he
rose to address the Assembly. He did not say very much, but what he
said went straight to the point.
"If we refuse the petition of this poor man on the plea that his rule
is difficult, let us beware lest we reject the Gospel itself, for the
rule which he desires us to approve of is in conformity with the
teachings of the Gospel. For us to say that Gospel perfection contains
anything unreasonable or impossible is to rise up against the author
of the Gospel and blaspheme Jesus Christ."
The force of his words went home, more especially as the rule was
entirely composed of Scripture verses!
Still the Pope hesitated. He could not come to any immediate decision.
"Go my son," he said to Francis, "and pray to God that He may let you
know that what you ask is from Him, and if it is we will grant your
desire."
For several days Francis gave himself up to prayer, and his next
interview with the Pope convinced him that these poor beggars had a
mission from God. He withheld his approval no longer. Embracing
Francis, he said to the little band--
"Go with God's blessing and preach repentance to all, in the way that
He is pleased to inspire you with."
A few days later the little party were on their way home again,
overflowing with joy. For a fortnight they lingered in a little town
called Orte. Some historians say they rested awhile from their
labours, others that they were attacked with fever in crossing the
Campagna. Be that as it may, it was here that Francis endured one of
the severest temptations of his life. The beauty of the scenery, the
delicious quiet, after the anxious time he had just gone through in
Rome, all conspired to make him think that after all perhaps a life
hidden from the world and devoted to prayer and meditation would be
just as acceptable to God as the more laborious one of preaching and
teaching. But he did not remain long under this spell, and in a little
time they were all back in Assisi.
[Sidenote: _The Order Established._]
It was at this point that Francis began first to shine as an orator.
Of course the news of his visit to Rome spread all around, and more
than ever he was an object of interest. The priests of St. George, who
had educated him, asked him to preach in their church. This service
must have been a success, because when the Bishop Guido returned to
Assisi, he asked Francis to preach in the cathedral. Here Francis
surpassed anything he had ever done before, and the large cathedral
was too small to hold the crowds that flocked to hear the young man.
Men and women came in from all the country-side, monks came down from
their mountain monasteries, and learned and simple all agreed that
"never man spake like this man!"
Yet, as we have said before, his words were of the simplest. He
preached repentance, not merely a lip repentance, but kind that worked
itself out in daily life. "If you have defrauded any man," he said,
"restore unto him that which is his." This sort of plain, practical
teaching was rapidly dying out. It came fresh to the people, and they
were stirred mightily."
[Sidenote: _Less than the Least._]
After their return from Rome, they began to be known as the Friars
Minor. This was the way in which they got their name. One day a
brother was reading aloud the Rule of the Order, and when he came to
this passage, "and let the brothers be less than all others," it
struck Francis very forcibly. He stopped the reader, and said--
"My brothers, I wish from henceforth that this fraternity should be
called the Order of Minors." Minor being the word in the original that
expresses the idea of "less than the least." And this was the name
they bore for many a year. It was an expressive and suitable one. Less
than the least of all the brethren--that was what they desired to be.
They were essentially of the people, they wore the garb of the
poorest, and shared their life with its toils and privations.
There was also another reason for this name, some historians say. Just
before Francis formed his Order, there was an Order of Friars
established in Italy, who spent their time in working among the poor.
"Little Brothers of the Poor," they called themselves, and it was in
contradistinction to them that Francis called himself "Minor," or less
than the "Little Brothers."