SOME OF FRANCIS' CONVERTS.
"Ah, the people needed helping--
Needed love--(for love and Heaven
Are the only gifts not bartered,
They alone are freely given)."
It is rather a pity that there have not been more detailed accounts
handed down to us of the converts who could point to Francis as their
spiritual father. It would have given us yet another side of that life
which was the most glorious spiritual light of the dark age in which
he lived! From the few that we meet incidentally, here and there, we
have no doubt that such documents, were they forthcoming, would be of
immense value. But, alas, the age in which Francis lived was not an
essentially literary one, and writing was one of the accomplishments
left to the few! So we must therefore make the best of such scanty
material as we have at our disposal, and try to give you an idea of
the different species of humanity that were attracted by the kindly,
gracious, Christ-like personality of Francis.
We have seen how at first, he had no idea of his call extending any
further than himself and his own life and conduct. Then one by one, at
first, and more quickly afterwards, men ranged themselves under his
standard, and claimed him as their leader. Naturally, and simply, he
took up his new position, and the duties attached thereto. He seemed
to know by intuition those whom God had singled out to be his
followers, and one after another heard Francis, as the voice of God
calling them to leave all and follow the lowly despised Christ.
[Sidenote: _Soldiers in the Christian Army._]
One of the first of these was a laborer named John.
It was always a great grief to Francis when he saw a church left dirty
and neglected. It gave him positive pain to think that anyone could
neglect the House of God, and give it less care than they would their
own homes. When he went on different preaching tours he used to call
the priests of the locality together, and beg of them to look after
the decency of the churches. He was not content merely to preach, but
often he bound stalks of heather together and made himself a broom,
and set to work and showed them an example.
One day he was busily engaged in sweeping out a church when a peasant
appeared. He had left his cart and come to see what was going on.
After he had stared for a time, he went over to Francis and said--
"Brother, let me have the broom and I will help you." He took the
broom, and finished the church.
When his task was ended, he said--
"Brother, for a long time, ever since I heard men speak of you, I have
decided to serve God. I never knew where to find you. Now it has
pleased God that we should meet, and henceforth I will do whatever you
command me."
Francis was convinced that he would make a good friar, so he accepted
him. This John was renowned afterwards for his piety, the other friars
admired him greatly. He did not live very long, and after his death,
Francis used to love to tell the story of his conversion, always
speaking of him as Brother _Saint_ John.
Angelo Tancredi was a young knight, rich, and of noble family. Francis
met him one day in the neighbourhood of Rieti. He had never seen him
before, he knew nothing whatever of him, but inspired by God, he went
up to him and said--
"My brother, thou hast long worn belt, sword and spurs. Henceforth thy
belt must be a rope, thy sword the Cross of Jesus Christ, and for
spurs thou must have dust and mud. Follow me. I will make thee a
soldier in the Christian Army."
Angelo's heart must have been prepared by God for this call, because
we read that "the brave soldier immediately followed Francis as the
Apostles followed our Lord."
[Sidenote: _New Recruits._]
Those who lived with him say that he was distinguished by a "glorious
simplicity," meaning, no doubt, that while he accepted the humility of
his new life, he retained something of his distinguished manners, and
chivalrous bearing. He was a personal friend of Francis', and one to
whom he could always unburden his soul.
Guido of Cortono is said to have been a born Franciscan. Passing
through Cortono, on a preaching tour, Francis found him ready, and
almost waiting for him. He was a young man of singular purity of
character. He had neither father nor mother, and lived quietly on the
means they had left him. What was over from his income, he gave to the
poor. After he had heard Francis preach, he went up to him and begged
that he would come to his house, and make it his home as long as he
stayed in Cortono. Francis consented, and as he and his companion
followed Guido home, Francis said--
"By the grace of God this young man will be one of us, and will
sanctify himself among his fellow-citizens."
After they had eaten and rested, Guido offered himself to Francis to
be one of his disciples. Francis agreed to receive him upon condition
that he should sell all his goods. This was done, apparently on the
spot, for we read that the three went round the town, distributing the
money. After this Francis conducted Guido into the Church, and there
clothed him with the "beast" colored robe.
Guido retired to a place outside the city, and became the founder of a
branch of the work. A small monastery was built, and such of his
converts in the locality, as were called to be friars, Guido received.
Sometimes the very talk about what Francis was doing, was used of God
to re-kindle the flame of love to Him in hearts where it had nearly
been extinguished. Simply hearing of the crowds that were seeking
forgiveness of sins, roused others to a sense of their eternal needs.
Amongst this number was John Parenti.
Parenti was a magistrate, a clever, thinking man, who lived in the
neighbourhood of Florence. He had long been very careless about his
soul, and what little religion he ever had had was fast slipping out
of his careless hold. He had heard of Francis, and the reformation
that was taking place in Umbria, and meditated long and deeply on all
that he heard, wondering, no doubt, if there was really "anything in
it," or was it not "all mere excitement." Still, he was more than ever
convinced that he himself had very little religion to boast of.
[Sidenote: _The Swine-herd and his Pigs._]
One evening he was taking a walk in the country when he met a
swine-herd. This youth was in great difficulty over his contrary
flock. As is the nature of pigs, mediaeval or otherwise, they went in
every direction except that in which they were wanted to go! Parenti
stood looking on amused at the boy's efforts. With much labor at last
he got them towards the stable door, and as they were rushing in he
cried--
"Go in, you beasts, go in as the magistrates and judges go into hell!"
It was only the uncouth speech of an equally uncouth swine-herd, but
God used it to the salvation of his soul. He began to think about the
dangers of his profession, and the state in which he was living, and
where he should really go to if he died. The business of salvation
looked to him that evening as the only one worth taking up, and the
straight and narrow road the only safe place.
He went home and confided all his hopes and fears to his son. Together
they decided that they would go and find Francis, and tell him they
wanted to change their life. They saw Francis, and before they left
him, they had made up their minds to become friars. They came back,
sold all their goods, and then put on the garment of the Order.
Parenti was a valuable acquisition to the Order, and rose to
considerable eminence in after days.
[Sidenote: _The Prince of Poets._]
Perhaps one of the most remarkable of Francis' converts was Pacificus,
as he was known in the Order. This man was a noted poet and musician.
He was known throughout Italy as "The King of the Verses," and was
considered to be the very prince of poets. He excelled in songs, and
was greatly appreciated everywhere. His supremacy was so undoubted
that several times he had received the poet's crown from the hands of
the Emperor of Germany, that very same crown that afterwards adorned
the brows of Petrarch and Tasso. He was visiting at San Severino when
he met Francis.
A house of "Poor Ladies" had just been founded in this place, and
Francis was preaching in their chapel. Some friends of Pacificus had
relatives among the "Poor Ladies," and as they were going to visit
them they asked him to come along too. He went, and as Francis was
preaching they stopped to hear him. The tone, and the eloquence of the
preacher, arrested Pacificus, and he could not hide his emotion as one
truth after another struck his conscience. Francis perceiving that one
hearer at least was touched by his words, turned the point of his
discourse straight at him. The longer Pacificus listened, the more he
was convinced not only that the hand of the Lord was upon him, but
that a great work was required of him. As soon as the sermon was over,
he asked to speak with Francis. That conversation completely won
Pacificus. Francis spoke to him of the judgments of God, and the
vanities of the world.
"Enough of words," cried the Poet, "let us have deeds! Withdraw me, I
pray you, from men, and restore me to the supreme Emperor."
Francis was always a lover of decision, and the next day he gave him
the habit, and took him on to Assisi with him. Ever after this the
poet was known as Pacificus, in memory of the peace of Christ that
that day flowed into his soul. His life was beautiful in its
simplicity. His historian writes, "he seemed rather to forget what he
had been, than have to make any violent effort to force himself to a
new life." In other words, his life "was hid with Christ in God."
This conversion of Pacificus attracted a great deal of attention and
did much towards advertising the Franciscans all over Europe.
[Sidenote: _Professor Pepoli._]
Professor Pepoli filled an important chair in the Bologna University.
He was converted through the preaching of Francis in Bologna. Of this
preaching an eye witness writes:--
"I, Thomas, Archdeacon of the Cathedral Church, studying at Bologna,
saw Francis preach in the square, where nearly the whole town was
assembled. He spoke first of angels, and men, and devils. He explained
the spiritual natures with such exactitude and eloquence that his
hearers were astonished that such words could come from the mouth of
so simple a man. Nor did he follow the usual course of preachers. His
discourse resembles rather those harangues that are made by popular
orators. At the conclusion he spake only of the extinction of hatred,
and the urgency of concluding treaties of peace and compacts of union.
His garment was soiled and torn, his person mean, his face pale, but
God gave his words unheard of power. He even converted noblemen, whose
unrestrained fury had bathed the country in blood, and many of them
were reconciled."
Professor Pepoli came under the spell of this preaching. A little
later all Bologna was electrified by hearing that he was about to give
up his professorship and become one of Francis' disciples. His friends
did all in their power to keep him. They pointed out to him how much
he loved his studies and the glory that was his. All in vain.
Professor Pepoli had already been accepted by Francis.
Three years later he died, greatly mourned by an entire monastery of
which he had been the founder.
If there were one class of men that Francis took more interest in than
another, after the lepers, it was the thieves and robbers that
abounded all over Europe. One day a number of them came begging at the
monastery. Angelo Tancredi opened the door to them and, true to his
soldierly instincts, was very wroth at their impudence.
[Sidenote: _The Robbers._]
"What!" he cried, "Robbers, evil-doers, assassins, have you no shame
for stealing the goods of others, but would you devour the goods of
the servants of God? You who are not worthy to live, and respect
neither men or God. Get you hence, and never let me see you here
again!"
The robbers departed, full of rage. Francis next appeared close on
their heels, carrying with him some bread and wine that had been given
to him. Angelo told him of the impudence of the robbers, and how he
had served them. To his surprise, Francis was much grieved at his
conduct, and reproved him for his cruelty.
"Go at once," he said, "and take this bread and wine and seek those
robbers till you have found them, and offer them this bread from me,
then ask their pardon, and pray them in my name to no longer do wrong,
but fear God."
Angelo departed, while Francis stayed at home and prayed for the
success of his undertaking. The robbers were found, and Angelo brought
them back to the monastery where they not only sought the pardon of
their sins, but became friars, and lived and died in true holiness.
One day Francis and some of the friars were passing round the foot of
a great castle. It was evident there was some festival going on
inside! The banner of the house floated over the gates, and the sound
of trumpets were heard half over the country-side. The young Count of
Montefeltro was about to be knighted.
"Come," said Francis, suddenly inspired, "let us go to the Castle, and
with God's help perhaps we may make some spiritual knight."
As soon as the ceremony was ended, and the company began to pour out
into the courtyard, Francis stood up on a low wall and began to
preach. He spoke of the worthlessness of all earthly pleasures
compared to the heavenly ones. He showed what the love of God could do
in the human soul, pointing them to the apostles and martyrs as
illustration, and contrasting the chivalry of the Christian heroes
with that which was human glory only. It was an appropriate subject,
and the people listened attentively.
Amongst the audience was a valiant knight, Count Orlando, Lord of
Chiusi. Immediately after the sermon, he went to Francis and said--
"I should like to talk to you about the salvation of my soul."
"Most willingly," replied Francis, always courteous, "but this is not
quite a fitting moment. You must honor those who have invited you.
First go and dine with them, and after the repast we will converse at
leisure."
Count Orlando did so, and returning to Francis they talked together.
Very soon Orlando was happier than he had ever been in his life
before, because he knew that his sins were all pardoned. Before he
parted with Francis he said--
"I have in my domains a mountain called La Vernia. It is exactly
suited to men who wish to live in solitude. If it please thee I will
give it to thee most willingly."
Francis accepted the offer, and the mountain was used as a place where
the brethren could go to pray, and rest when worn out with the fatigue
of their work. It was really a huge plateau on top of a steep
mountain, covered with trees. Amongst these, some little cells were
constructed, and a quieter, more restful place it would be hard to
imagine.
[Sidenote: _The Peasant's Advice._]
It was when Francis was climbing this mountain once, that a peasant,
who took him up on his ass, asked him--
"Are you the Francis of Assisi that is so much talked of?"
"Yes," said Francis, "I am."
"Well," responded the man, "You will have hard work to be as good as
they say you are. They have such confidence in you, it is difficult
for you to be equal to it, at least that is _my_ opinion."
Francis was charmed with this opinion, and thanked the man for his
charitable advice, but before that journey was ended, the peasant was
convinced that Francis was as good as "they" said he was.
Our readers must not imagine that Francis' converts were all men. Far
from it. Many women, besides Clara and Agnes, had to thank God that he
ever came their way and taught them how to love and serve God.
[Sidenote: "_Our Brother Jacqueline!_"]
There was Jacqueline. She was of noble family, and though she did not
leave the world like Clara, yet she served the cause right nobly. She
was a most unusual woman for her times. We are told that "she was not
afraid of business!" She went in person and treated with the
Benedictines, and induced them to give up certain buildings in favor
of the Friars Minor. All her riches and influence she put at the
disposal of the Franciscans, who had no more active patron than
Jacqueline. Francis used to call her jokingly "our brother
Jacqueline!"
On one of the last tours Francis was able to make, he suffered much
from pain and depression. To cheer him, says a historian, God gave him
a piece of work to do for Him. He was passing through a place called
Voluisiano, when a young lady, the wife of the baron of the place, ran
after him. When she caught up with him she was very much out of
breath. Francis looked at her with interest, and asked--
"What can I do for you, Madam?"
"I want you to bless me," she said.
"Are you married?" went on Francis.
"Oh, yes," said the girl, "and my husband is very stern. He sets
himself against my serving Jesus Christ. He is my great trouble. I
have received a right will from Heaven, and I cannot follow it on
account of him. Will you pray that God may soften his heart?"
"My daughter," Francis said in great compassion, "Go, I am assured
your husband will become your consolation. Tell him this from God and
me, 'Now is the time of salvation, recompense will surely come.'"
Then he gave her his blessing.
The lady went home, and finding her husband, gave him Francis'
message. The Spirit of God carried it to his inmost soul.
"He is right," he said to his wife, "Let us serve God together, and
save our souls in our own house!"
"The Lord be praised," cried his wife, and together they thanked God
for the gift of His wonderful salvation. They lived for a great many
years in godliness and holiness, and passed away to be with Christ,
the one in the morning and the other in the evening of the same day.
[Sidenote: _A Catalogue of Names._]
Other equally interesting incidents, we have no doubt cluster round
what, unfortunately, the historians present to us in the form of a
catalogue of mere names.