"BRETHREN OF THE MILITIA OF JESUS CHRIST."
"A dream of man and woman,
Diviner but still human,
Solving the riddle old,
Shaping the Age of Gold.
The love of God and neighbor,
An equal handed labor;
The richer life where duty
Walks hand and hand with beauty."
The idea of this Third Order had been in Francis' mind for a long
time; in fact, as far back as his first journey to Rome, when the
entire brotherhood numbered twelve! On his way home to Assisi he had
preached in every village and town he passed. One day, as he was
preaching in the vicinity of a large feudal castle, the whole
establishment turned out to hear him, and when he had finished, his
listeners, lords and ladies, officers and retainers, threw themselves
at his feet, announcing their intention to follow him wherever he
went, and renounce the world for ever. Never was preacher in such a
plight! There they stood, the tears running down their faces, husbands
and wives and little children, soldiers, bower-maidens and pages, the
entire retinue that ordinarily made up the household of a mediaeval
lord. Francis knew that it would not be possible to carry off the lot;
beside, there was no Second Order then, and what could he do with the
women and children? So he calmed them by telling them that he would
endeavor to create an Order into which they could come without shaking
the foundations of the universe!
Little he thought that the Third Order was destined to make even more
stir in the world than the First or Second.
[Sidenote: _What must we do?_]
As the years passed by, Francis was continually met with the question,
"What must we do now we are converted? Teach us how to live!"
It was a very important question, and a very natural one, for the
first instinct of a healthy, newly-converted soul is to spend and be
spent for its Master. Strange as it may seem to us in these days of
Bible readers, district visitors, and lay-workers of all kinds, it was
a very difficult question to answer. The Church, which as yet was the
Church Universal, not having suffered any disruption, knew nothing of
lay help, other than setting its members to pray, and give alms. A
change of life and action had long since ceased to be preached.
Francis and his followers had revived the old Apostolic doctrine of
repentance and conversion and holiness of life and thought. As many as
could join the First and Second Orders were well disposed of, but the
countless multitude who were unable to leave home and friends, were
the, as yet, unsolved problem. Francis soon saw that his work would
be, to a large extent, a failure if something were not done in the way
of organizing his converts. This fact was again pressed home upon him
the year after Peter Cantani was appointed Vicar General.
He was preaching in a little village called Cannara, and his hearers,
who comprised the major portion of the village, were so carried away
with his words, that they besought him with tears to take them into
his brotherhood. This he refused to do, saying--
"You are not able, nor ought you to do anything of the kind. I will
think of you, and I will seek, and with God's blessing I will find a
life more within your compass."
This promise he found he had to renew wherever he went.
"What must we do?" the people asked him.
"We cannot forsake our wives!" said the husbands, and "We cannot leave
our husbands!" said the wives. "How shall we save ourselves?"
[Sidenote: _The Third Order._]
After a little, the active mind of Francis found the way out. He would
form a new Order of converted men and women, who would be linked on to
the First, and so, without leaving the world, they could enjoy the
peace and strength of a truly religious life. Such an idea had never
been heard of before, and the success of the new institution far
surpassed all expectations. It seemed as though men's hearts and minds
had been waiting for it, to judge by the numbers that sought
admission.
The rules of the Order were very simple and based almost entirely on
the Sermon on the Mount. The "Tertiaries," as they were called, were
required to put an end to all hatred, and to restore all ill-acquired
gain, not to engage in lawsuits, to practise the commandments of God,
to wear a plain dress, and abstain from all worldly gaieties, such as
theatre-going, dancing, etc. No one might speak of his or her
neighbor's faults. They were to eat the plainest of food and to avoid
a variety of dishes. Then there were various advices given as regards
cleanliness. Mediaeval folk seldom reckoned cleanliness among the
virtues to be cultivated. No one was to appear in Church in soiled or
torn clothes, because, in so doing, they showed disrespect to God, and
never should there be stain or spot on their garments, for outside
purity is in some sort a reflection of inward purity. Houses and
furniture also had to be plain and clean. They spent what time they
had in visiting the sick, and helping those who needed help out of the
surplus of their goods.
Before anybody was admitted into the Order, an investigation was made
into his or her life, respecting personal character and relations with
their neighbors. If he were found with goods not belonging to him, or
to be at enmity with anyone, he was not admitted until he had repented
and done his first works.
In every place where a congregation of the Third Order existed, there
was a "Visitor" who was also a Minor of the First Order. It was his
duty to oversee these "Tertiaries," and give them instruction.
Such was the Order in which people of all grades and classes hastened
to enrol themselves. It was first opened in June, and at the end of
that year we find branches of it in Tuscany, Umbria, and the Marches
of Ancona. A wave of blessing seemed to pass all over Italy. It does
not appear that Francis established any other fraternity of the Third
Order except the First, and from that the others spread out into all
the earth.
[Sidenote: _A Strong Order._]
The "Tertiaries," or "The brethren of the Militia of Jesus Christ," as
someone called them, multiplied to such an extent that very soon they
attracted more attention than was altogether pleasant. The different
bishops of Italy opposed them, and wrote to the German Emperor,
Frederick II., who was a man of bad character and openly irreligious.
"The Friars Minor have risen up against us!" they wrote. "They have
publicly reproved our life and conversation. They have destroyed our
rights, and brought us to nothing. And now, as the finishing stroke
against our power, and to deprive us of the devotion of the people,
they have created two new confraternities, which include men and
women. Everyone runs into them!"
Frederick was frightened. He saw a gigantic army ready to fight for
the Church at a word of command, because one of the bye-laws of
Tertian rule forbade the Tertiaries to carry offensive weapons save in
the defence of the faith of Jesus Christ, or in defence of their
country. From this time Frederick, who was always fighting against the
Church, became their bitterest enemy, and persecuted them wherever
they were to be found. If it had not been for the influence of
Cardinal Ugolino, who vigorously protected the Third Order after
Francis' death, Frederick would, probably, have been able to wipe it
out of existence, or what would have been worse, it might have existed
only in name. As it was, it grew and spread and struggled for its
rights, till it became one of the most powerful religious, social and
political influences the world has ever felt. To go into the details
of this would occupy too much space, therefore, we shall turn our
attention to a few of the first Tertiaries.
[Sidenote: _Lucchese._]
The _very_ first was a man called Lucchese. This man was young,
good-looking, and ambitious. He was a tradesman, and his ruling motive
in life was to vie with the nobles. This, after a time, became a
passion with him. He knew the only way to success lay through riches.
Therefore, he determined to be rich. He began to speculate in grain,
and bought up as much as he could, and thus created an artificial
famine in his village. Then, when the want was greatest, he resold his
stores at enormous prices, and his fortune was made.
But God was looking after him, and, one day, when he was sitting
alone, the thought of what he had done came before him in all its
hideousness. He saw that there was something more in life besides
merely pursuing riches, and "what would it profit him," something
asked him, "if he should gain all his heart was set on, and be
eternally lost in the end?" From that hour he was a changed man.
After consultation with his wife, Bonadona, he sold the greater part
of his goods, and distributed their price to the poor. He kept only a
house and a garden of four acres, which he cultivated with his own
hands. This was a hard life for one who had been used to luxury. His
house soon became the "poor man's inn" for the district. Thither came
the poor and needy in troops, and never were they sent empty away.
Such was Lucchese's life when he met Francis, just at the time when
the necessity for the Third Order was pressing most heavily upon him.
Lucchese opened his heart to Francis, and told him how much he longed
to make up for the wrong he had done in the past, and live a life
well-pleasing to God.
"For some time," said Francis, who felt, as Lucchese talked with him,
that the man and the hour had both arrived, "I have been thinking of
founding a Third Order, in which married people will have an
opportunity of serving God faithfully. You can be the first to enrol
yourself."
[Sidenote: _Lucchese's Work._]
Then he explained the form which he intended to give this Order, and
Lucchese gladly enrolled himself, and Bonadona declared that she would
join her husband. Encouraged by this good beginning, Francis publicly
announced his intentions, and a number of men and women came and
offered themselves to him. So, one day, in the Church, in the sight of
many spectators, he clothed them in a simple, modest dress of
ash-grey, and the first group, or rather the first fraternity, was
formed.
Lucchese persevered nobly in his good works. He was no longer content
with merely helping those who came to him, but he travelled great
distances to find the suffering. Sometimes he was to be seen leading
three or four poor creatures, and carrying the weakest of them on his
back! When once they were in his house, he cared for them, body and
soul, and many of them were converted, and some joined the Third
Order. Close to where Lucchese lived, there were large tracts of
swampy, malarial country. Every summer fever was sure to break out
there. Lucchese saw this place now as a beautiful field for Tertiary
labor. He bought an ass, and, loading it with suitable drugs and food,
he went down into the fever swamps, and did his best in the capacity
of doctor and nurse and priest all in one. His wife was always ready
to help him in all his good works.
His death is reported to have been "serene and grand as that of a
patriarch." He and his wife were both taken ill together. She got
worse rapidly, and they came to tell him of it. They carried him to
her side. Kissing her an affectionate farewell, he said--
"Oh, my beloved and devoted companion, we have served God together in
all affection. Wait for me, we shall be permitted to go together to
the unspeakable joys!"
He returned to his room and lay down in great weakness. Those around
saw that his last hour had come.
"My dear brother," said one of the Friars Minor, who stood beside him,
"be strong and prepare thy soul to appear before thy Saviour."
Lucchese raised his head a little and smiled.
"My good father," he said, "If I had waited till now to prepare my
soul I should still have confidence in God's mercy, but to tell the
truth I should leave the world with less security, on account of the
terrors of the passage."
But the passage had no terrors for Lucchese. He raised his arms and
said--
"I feel myself free and ready, not through my merits, but through
those of our Lord Jesus Christ." A few minutes after the death of his
wife, he, too, followed her to Heaven.
[Sidenote: _A Dinner Party._]
Once, when passing through Rome, Francis was asked by the chief of a
powerful house to dinner. As he was going into the palace of the
noble, he descried a number of poor people congregated in the court,
to whom food was being distributed. Unable to resist the opportunity,
he went down and sat among them! Matthew de Rubeis, his host, was
looking out of the window and saw this, so he came out and joined him,
saying--
"Brother Francis, since you will not come to me, I must come and sit
with you." And with the most courtly air he announced to the
astonished crowd that he and Francis would eat with them.
After that dinner, during which no doubt Francis expounded his
doctrines, Matthew de Rubeis was enrolled in the "New Militia." He was
the first Tertiary in Rome.
[Sidenote: _Little Rose._]
Little Rose, though not actually a contemporary of Francis, is always
reckoned in as one of the first Tertiaries. She was one of those
children who seem born with deep religious feeling. She always, from
her earliest dawning intelligence, loved God with all her heart and
soul. She was a beautiful child, very lively in disposition, and she
loved to go out into the streets and sing hymns. Before she was ten
years old, she began to preach against those who tried to undermine
the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, of whom the chief was the German
Emperor, Frederick II. The Archbishop of the town had written a letter
warning his people against the dangers that beset them, and nowhere
did his appeal take deeper root than in the heart of little Rose.
She, childlike, spoke out boldly what her friends were thinking in
their hearts. Standing in the street, on a large stone, she preached
that the Emperor was an enemy of the true faith, and must be resisted,
and that the standard of the faith must be kept high at all costs.
Those who thought just so encouraged her, but those who were staunch
supporters of the wicked Emperor went to the Prefect of the town, who
belonged to their party, and declared--
"If you do not send away Rose and her parents, we will drive you away
yourself."
The Prefect was frightened. He sent for Rose and her parents, and when
they appeared he ordered them, on pain of being cast into prison, and
having their goods confiscated, to leave the town. It was then the
middle of winter, snow had been falling for some days, and the roads
were nearly impassable. The parents begged to have the sentence
postponed for a little.
"It is death," they said, "to go now."
"Well, you can die then," answered the Prefect. "I want nothing
better."
So they took their child and set off. They did not die, however. God
took care of them, and they safely reached Soriano, where they lived
in peace and quiet, till the death of the Emperor, a year later,
allowed them to return home again.