St. Francis was far from thinking that w_The Life and Legends of Saint Francis of Assisi

as of a favor which we have not received, since he acknowledges that

it is the greatest gift of the Holy Ghost, conformably to what St.

Paul said to the Philippians: "To you is given not only to believe in

Jesus Christ, but also to suffer for His sake;" and to what is written

of the Apostles: "And they, indeed, went from the presence of the

council, rejoicing that they were accounted to suffer reproach for the

name of Jesus." He only proposed to say that our sole cause of glory

is, that God permits us to be associated to the Cross of Jesus Christ,

in which alone we are glorified. Thus it is to God that he refers all

the glory of our sufferings, which indeed is His, since, without the

aid of His grace, we should not suffer as we ought, and without the

Cross of Jesus Christ we should have no merit. But he correctly says,

and he speaks the true orthodox faith, when he adds, that we have a

share in the merit of what we suffer, and when he draws the distinction

between that and miraculous gifts. St. Chrysostom has spoken in the

same manner, and says that our virtues are in so far the gifts of God,

that they are also merits of our will, for which God has been pleased

to render Himself indebted to us, by the promise He has made to reward

them.

The mystery of the Incarnate Word, "that great mystery of piety, which

has been manifested in the flesh," produced in the heart of St. Francis

sentiments so pious and so tender, that they were observable exteriorly,

by actions of extraordinary fervor, as we saw in the grand solemnity

which he celebrated at Grecio on Christmas night. "Consider," he says,

in his letters, "that the most high Father has sent from Heaven His

archangel, St. Gabriel, to announce that His most worthy, holy, and

glorious Word should descend into the womb of the most Blessed Virgin

Mary. And, in truth, He did so descend, and took from her true human

flesh, passible and mortal, such as ours is: 'Being rich, He became

of His own accord poor.' He chose, by preference, poverty in this world

for Himself and for His Blessed Mother. He gave Himself thus to us,

in conformity to the will of His Father, to wipe away our sins on the

cross, by the sacrifice of His Blood, and to leave an example for us

to follow in His traces, for it is His wish that we should all be saved

through Him; but there are few who desire the salvation He proffers

them, although His yoke is sweet, and His burden light."

When he spoke of the incarnation and birth of the Son of God, it was

with affectionate devotion; he could not hear the words, "the Word

made flesh," without manifesting great joy. The religious of a monastery

where he was one day, remarked this emotion, and took occasion to ask

him if it was right to eat meat on Christmas-day, when it fell on a

Friday, or if it was not better to abstain from it. "Not only do I

think," he replied, "that men may eat meat on this day, on which the

Word was made flesh, but I wish that princes and rich persons would

throw meat and corn in the highways, in order that the birds and beasts

of the field should rejoice, in their way, in the joys of so great a

festival; I wish, even, that some was placed on the walls, if they

could derive sweetness from it."

We see plainly that these are hyperbolical expressions, flowing from

his heart, by the emotions of his spiritual joy, by which he was

actuated; but, in saying that men might eat meat on Christmas-day,

although it fall on a Friday, he speaks in conformity with the usage

of the Church, which, however, is a permission, and not a law. Pope

Honorius III. pointed it out clearly to the Bishop of Prague, in

Bohemia, in the following rescript of the year 1222: "We answer that,

when the Feast of the Nativity of our Blessed Lord falls on a Friday,

those who are not under the obligation of abstinence by a vow, or by

a regular observance, may eat meat on that day, because of the

excellence of the festival, according to the custom of the universal

Church. Those, however, who abstain on that day, from devotion, are

not to be censured."

St. Francis was, moreover, much affected by the goodness of our Saviour,

who, after His baptism, went into the desert, and there fasted forty

days and forty nights, without eating anything during that time, for

the expiation of our sensuality, and to set us an example of fasting.

He honored this holy retreat by a fast of forty days, which he commenced

on the seventh day of January, and which he passed in some solitary

place, confined to his cell, keeping strict abstinence in fasting and

drinking, and employing himself solely in praising God and in prayer.

It was also during this Lent that he received the most signal favors

from Jesus Christ.

His soul was penetrated with ardor for the mystery of the Sacred Body

and Blood of our Lord. The work of so tender a love, and of such

condescending goodness, threw him into an excess of admiration, and

put him quite beside himself. He communicated frequently, and with so

much devotion, that it inspired others with similar feelings; they saw

him almost always, after having communicated, as if in a spiritual

intoxication, and raised into ecstasy by the sweetness he tasted in

partaking of the Body and Blood of the Lamb without spot. At Mass,

when at the Elevation, he said this prayer: "Celestial Father, my Lord

and my God, cast Thine eyes on the glorious countenance of Thy Christ,

and have pity on me and on other sinners, for whom Thy beloved Son,

our Lord, has condescended to die, and who has chosen to remain with

us in the Sacrament of the Altar, for our salvation and consolation:

who with Thee, eternal Father, and the Holy Ghost, sole God, liveth

and reigneth to everlasting ages. Amen."

The profound veneration which is due to the august mystery of the

Eucharist, the solicitude which we ought to have to hear Mass, to

approach to the sacred altar, and to prepare ourselves, in order

worthily to communicate, were points on which he used to dilate in his

conversations, in his instructions, and in his letters.

The life of the holy man has furnished many examples of the ardent and

respectful zeal which animated him in all that regarded churches or

altars, or all the things which were used for the Sacrifice of the

Mass, and for the divine service. As he could not bear anything dirty

or slovenly, in the country churches, he took the trouble of cleaning

everything himself; and lest they should want altar breads for Masses,

he made them himself in iron forms, which were made in a very

workmanlike manner; he took them into the poor parishes: some of these

moulds are carefully preserved in the convent of Grecio.

The great love which he had for Jesus Christ, and for the sacrament

which contains His Body, His Blood, His Soul, and His Divinity, inspired

him with a zeal and a tenderness of devotion to His Blessed Mother,

which cannot be expressed, as St. Bonaventure remarks. He placed himself

and his Order under the protection of this Blessed Mother of God, whom

he chose for his advocate; and in her, after Jesus Christ, his chief

confidence rested: "for," said he, "it is she who made this God of

Majesty our brother; through her we have obtained mercy." He used, as

we have noticed, to keep a Lent of six weeks, in honor of her glorious

Assumption; and he observed it with great sentiments of piety. These

are the prayers and eulogiums he was in the habit of addressing to

her:--

"Hail, Mary! Mother of God, ever a Virgin, most holy Lady and Queen,

in whom is all the plenitude of grace and every sort of good. Amongst

women there are none born like unto thee; thou art the daughter and

the handmaid of our celestial Father, the great King; and he has chosen

thee for the Mother of His beloved Son. Thou art the Spouse of the

Holy Ghost, the Comforter. Hail to thee, who art the palace, the temple,

and the Mother of our Lord Jesus Christ! I honor all the virtues with

which thou art filled. Thou who art as mild as thou art beautiful,

implore thy very dear Son, conjure Him by His great clemency, by the

virtue of His most sacred incarnation and that of His most painful

death, to pardon our faults. Amen."

The indissoluble ties of spiritual love, says the holy doctor whom we

have quoted, united Francis to the hierarchy of the angels, caused in

him marvellous fire which absorbs man in God, and influences the elect

with noble aims. The ardent zeal he had for the salvation of souls,

attached him intimately to the Archangel St. Michael, because his

employment is to present man to the throne of the Divine Majesty. It

was to honor these blessed spirits, that he kept every year a Lent of

forty days, before the Feast of St. Michael, adding to it a continual

exercise of prayer. He had prescribed to himself another Lent, to

prepare for the Festival of All Saints, who seemed to him to be,

according to the expression of Ezekiel, precious stones, glittering

as fire, the memory alone of which excited him to a more fervent love

of God. The great love which all the Apostles had for Jesus Christ,

led him to revere them with peculiar devotion, particularly Saints

Peter and Paul, in honor of whom he fasted from Whit-Sunday to their

feast.

It is useful to remark here that this great Saint, who was raised to

a sublime degree of prayer, did not neglect, nevertheless, the usual

practices of piety with the rest of the faithful. This may serve as

a preservative against an illusion which might lead to the belief that

they are useless to the spiritual, and that those who are mystical,

may dispense with them, to devote themselves to contemplation. His

heart was so full and so penetrated with that true and sincere piety,

of which charity is the soul, that it seemed to have entire possession

of him. It united him incessantly to God, to the friends of God, and

to everything which was holy; but, as the Apostle says, "prayer is

profitable to all things"; it gave him a fund of all that was good,

a spirit of meekness, of condescension, and of zeal, to communicate

with his neighbor.

All men were dear to him, because he saw in them the same nature, the

same grace, the image of the Creator, and the Blood of the Redeemer.

If he had not taken care of the salvation of souls, which Jesus Christ

had redeemed, he would not have considered himself among the number

of His friends. "Nothing," he said, "is preferable to the salvation

of souls;" and he gave several reasons for this, and principally this

one: that, for them, the Only Son of God had condescended to be nailed

to the cross. It was also for them that he labored and lived; for them,

in some measure, he called in question the justice of God in prayer,

and powerfully solicited His mercy; for them he frequently forewent

the sweets of a contemplative life; he undertook journeys, he preached

everywhere, he exposed Himself to martyrdom, and their edification was

one of his motives in the practice of virtue. Although his innocent

flesh, already perfectly under the control of the spirit, did not

require to be chastised for any faults, he, nevertheless, mortified

it in various ways for the edification of his neighbor. When he was

censured for his too great austerities, he replied:--"I am sent to

give this example; if I had not the charity to give it, I should be

of little use to others, and of none to myself, although I spoke all

the languages known to men and angels."

Seeing that a multitude of persons, stimulated by his example, fervently

embraced the Cross of Christ, he became animated with fresh courage

to put himself at the head of these pious troops, as a valiant captain,

in order to gain with them a victory over the devil, by the practice

of perfect and invincible virtue.

The sanctity of his life gave him great freedom in his manner of

preaching. He spoke fearlessly, without any apprehension of what critics

might say, because he had acted before teaching, and he felt and had

experienced all he said. The zealous preacher knew not how to flatter.

Far from sparing sinners by complacence, he reproached their vices in

forcible language, and attacked their disorderly conduct with great

vehemence. The presence of the great of the world did not intimidate

him; he spoke to them as plainly and forcibly as he had done to the

common people; and, as all souls were equally dear to him, he preached

as willingly, and with as much zest, to a few people, as to a crowded

auditory.

The tender love which St. Francis bore for souls redeemed by the Blood

of Jesus Christ, rendered him very sensible to their misfortunes. When

he knew of any one stained by the filth of sin, he lamented over it

with deep grief. His charity, fertile in expedients, inspired him

sometimes to give to wicked persons temporal assistance, with a view

of getting them to return to the ways of salvation. One day, when he

was at the Convent of Mount Casal, Brother Angelo, who was the guardian

of it, told him that there were in the neighborhood three notorious

robbers, who injured considerably the farmers of the vicinity, and

daily came and extorted from them the bread which was destined for the

convent, without their being able to prevent it. "Brother," he replied,

"if you will do what I will point out to you, my confidence in God

tells me that you will reform these men, and gain their souls. Go and

seek them out: although they are robbers, they are still our brothers.

Take them the best bread you have, and some wine, spread a cloth on

the ground, and invite them to eat with you; while they are eating,

speak to them of holy things, in an insinuating manner, both yourself

and your companion; humbly entreat them to injure no one any more. If

they promise you this, return to them the next day, and take them

something to eat, with bread and wine as before, and tell them that

you bring that, as to brethren and friends, who have granted you what

you asked of them. If you do this a third time, do not doubt but God

will enlighten them, and touch their hearts, and bring them into the

right way."

Brother Angelo followed this advice, and gained over the robbers so

completely, that they gave up their lives of plunderers, and began to

render service to the convent, supplying them with fire-wood, which

they carried to them on their shoulders. Their conversion was complete:

one of them entered the Order, and the other two went elsewhere to

embrace a penitential life. The guardian used similar means for

converting three other robbers, who retired into the recesses of the

mountain, after having induced the Saint to pray for them. All three

afterwards entered the Order of Friars Minor and lived holy lives.

The affection which our Saint had always shown for the poor from his

infancy, during the first years of his youth, and at the beginning of

his conversion, became stronger and stronger, and was manifested on

all occasions. St. Bonaventure says that he spared nothing to come to

their assistance. Cloaks, tunics, books, the ornaments of the Church,

all that he had he gave to them. Many times he has been seen taking

the burdens from the poor he met on the road, and bear them on his own

weak shoulders. When he returned from begging, he shared what he had

received with any that solicited alms at his hands; and as long as

anything remained, he never refused any one.

At Sienna, a small cloak had been given to him, which was very necessary

for his infirmities; but, in leaving the town, he met a poor person,

whose wretched state excited his pity, and he said to his companion:

"Let us restore this cloak to him, for it belongs to him; we have only

borrowed it, until such time as we should see some one poorer than

ourselves." The companion, knowing that Francis really required it,

endeavored to prevent his parting with it, but the father made him

this answer: "If I did not give this cloak to a poor man, who had more

need of it than I have, I should think I had committed a theft, which

I should be convicted of by our Sovereign Lord, who is the universal

almoner." It was for this reason that, when anything was given him,

he asked leave to give it away, if he should meet with any one poorer

than himself.

On the same principle, notwithstanding his infirmities, when he was

at the convent at Celles, he gave another cloak, which he had received

in charity, to a poor woman. One of the brothers having taken it back,

promising to give the woman something else instead, the Saint said

immediately:--"My brother, kneel down and acknowledge your fault; give

the cloak back to the woman: she is poorer than I am." His companions

got him another, and he gave it again to a man of Cortona, who came

to solicit alms for the love of God, at the same convent at Celles.

He told Francis that his wife was dead, that he had several little

children, and that he had no food for them: "I give you this cloak,"

said the Saint, "on this condition, that, if you are asked to give it

back, you do no such thing, unless you receive its full value." The

brethren, indeed, did all they could to induce him to give it back:

they told him there was no one poorer than the person who had given

it to him, or who wanted it more on account of his bad health and the

rigor of the season. But the man, referring to what his benefactor had

said, answered that the cloak was his, and that he would not part with

it, unless he received its full value. In order, therefore, to have

it returned, they were under the necessity of taking him to a friend

who gave him in money what the cloak was considered to be worth.

A very old woman, the mother of two of the Friars Minor, having come

to the Convent of St. Mary of the Angels to ask for charity, Francis

told the guardian to give her something; and he having said that there

was not anything then in the convent which could be given, unless it

was a book of the Gospel which the brethren read out of, when they

were in the choir the Father said:--"Give it that the poor woman may

sell it to provide for her necessities. I believe that this will be

more agreeable to God, than reading out of it. What is it that a mother

has not a right to require from us, who has given two of her sons to

the religious?"

Another time, a poor man came to ask for an old habit. Francis desired

them to look about well for one that was not used. As such an one was

not to be found, he stole aside and began to unpick some breadths of

his own, in order to give them to the man; the guardian, being informed

of this, came down hastily and forbade his taking them out: "I will

obey you, because you are my superior, but give this poor man something

to cover himself with; otherwise I shall have a scruple, and shall be

grieved to be obliged to wear an entire habit which is lined, to keep

me warm, while this poor man is shivering with cold at the gate." He

went to the poor man to console him, and did not leave him until the

guardian had given him something wherewith to clothe himself; and this

alms was no less comforting to his charitable feelings, than the

clothing was to the misery of the poor man. By a similar impulse of

charity, and in order to prevent curses against God, he gave his cloak

to a servant who complained of the great injury his master had done

him, cursing him and blaspheming Providence for allowing the poor to

be so ill used. He gave him his cloak on the condition that he would

leave off cursing and blaspheming.

The physician who saw the saint in his illness, near Rieti, having one

day mentioned the extreme poverty of an old woman who was begging, he

sent for the guardian and said: "Here is a cloak which I have worn

until such time as some one should be found who has a greater right

to it than I have; I beg you to send it, with some of the bread which

has been received on the quest, by one of the brethren, to our sister,

who is very poor, and let him say that we only give her what belongs

to her. I conceive that what is given to us can only be ours until

such time as some one shall come forward, who is more in want of it

than we are." Not to vex the holy man, the commission was faithfully

executed.

The blessed Patriarch wished that such of his children who had not

studied, and had no talent for preaching, should be employed in serving

their brethren, and should frequent the hospitals, there to render the

meanest offices to the lepers, with humility and charity.

Brother James the Simple, who came from Perugia, was greatly

distinguished by his zeal in this charitable exercise, insomuch that

they gave him the name of the steward and physician of the lepers.

Francis recommended one to him, whose body was a mass of sores, from

his head to his feet. James took such care of him, that, by degrees,

he regained his strength; and, thinking fresh air would contribute to

his restoration, he took him with him, although still full of ulcers,

to the Convent of Saint Mary of the Angels. This appeared to the Saint,

who met him, to have been very indiscreet, and he said to Brother

James: "You should not lead about, in this manner, the Christian

Brothers; it is neither proper in you, nor good for them. I wish you

to serve them in their hospital, but I do not wish you to take them

out of it, for there are many persons who cannot bear the sight of

them." The leper was distressed at hearing his benefactor thus

reprimanded, and he blushed for shame. Francis, perceiving him to have

been mortified, threw himself immediately at his feet, and begged his

pardon, and, in order to console him, he ate at the door of the convent,

out of the same plate with the leper, after which he embraced and

kissed him, and dismissed him satisfied.

There was in the hospital a leper who was so impatient and so violent,

that he abused and struck the Friars Minor who served him, and even

went so far as to blaspheme God. They reported this to their Father,

who offered himself to the sick man, to wait upon him: "What can you

do for me more than your companions have done?" replied the invalid.

"Ever since I have had this insupportable disorder, God has forgotten

me. I am in despair, I can live no longer; no one can mitigate my

sufferings; neither you nor any one else." Francis, seeing that he was

agitated by the evil spirit, left him for a while, prayed for him, and

returned to exhort him by the most urgent motives, to be patient. As

he saw that the man became calmer, he asked him what might seem most

agreeable to him; what he should do for him. He said that he should

now wash his whole body, that he could no longer endure the stench of

the infection. The saint quickly got some water warmed, into which he

put aromatic herbs, and began to wash him himself, while his companion

poured out the water. As he washed, his cure advanced, and, at the

same time, the grace of God made such impression on the mind of the

patient, that, as the water flowed from his body, the tears flowed

from his eyes. The washing having terminated, the leper being perfectly

cleansed and converted, publicly confessed his sins, asked for mercy,

and went through a rigorous course of penance. He died a few months

afterwards, and appeared to the Saint, thanking him that, by his means,

after a light punishment in purgatory, he was about to enjoy eternal

glory.

God performed a different miracle on another occasion, to justify the

charity of His Servant to the poor. At Alexandria de la Paille, a town

of the Milanese, where he was received as a Saint, he was invited to

dinner by a wealthy and pious man. While he was at table, a man of bad

character, who was, however, jealous of Francis's reputation, watched

all his actions, in order to decry and criticise them: this man

counterfeited a beggar at the door, and solicited an alms for the love

of God. As soon as Francis heard the appeal for the love of God, he

sent him the wing of a fowl, to which he had been just helped. The

sham beggar, to whom it was taken, kept it. The next day he produced

it, in a large concourse of people, where the Saint was preaching,

and, interrupting the discourse, he said in a loud voice: "This is the

food on which the preacher feeds: should such a man be honored as a

saint?" His malice received a signal check; the wing of the fowl which

he exhibited, appeared to the bystanders to be fish, and he was thought

to have lost his wits. He himself perceiving that what he held up was

nothing but fish, was ashamed of what he had said, was touched with

remorse, and published himself what had happened. After which, one

miracle succeeded another; it was found that what had appeared to be

fish, was in reality flesh. Thus did the Lord vindicate the virtue of

His Servant, punish envy, and convert the envious. The malignity of

envy often finds its punishment in the artifices it employs to injure

persons of virtue, but it is very unusual for the envious to be so

converted.

St. Bonaventure says that St. Francis felt a most tender compassion

for all who suffered from temporal ills; that, indeed, he had naturally

a feeling heart, but that the goodness of the heart of Jesus Christ,

communicating itself to his, rendered it still more compassionate. He

was the more sensible of the afflictions of others, as in all the poor,

and in all those who suffered, he represented to himself his Divine

Master, poor and suffering; in which, continues the holy doctor, he

who was himself poor, showed that he was so as a perfect Christian.

When he had it not in his power to alleviate the sufferings of those

in indigence or sickness, he endeavored, at least by soothing words,

to assuage their feelings. One day, when he was about to preach, he

was entreated by a poor and infirm man to recommend him to the auditors.

His compassion was excited, and, with tears in his eyes, he said to

his companion that he felt the man's ills as if they were his own. His

companion answered the man rather drily, who was importunate in asking

for alms, and in order to moderate the feelings of the Saint, he said:

"If we judged by exteriors, this man is apparently in great misery;

but, if we could penetrate his interior, we should, perhaps, find that

in the whole province there is not an individual richer in wishes, or

more eaten up with pride: such characters are frequently found among

beggars." Francis censured him severely for having repulsed the poor

man, and for judging him with so much asperity, and pointed out to him

that in this he offended God. The religious acknowledged his error,

and asked pardon on his knees. "I shall not pardon you," said Francis,

"unless you take off your habit, prostrate yourself before the poor

man, acknowledge your fault, entreat him to pardon you, and to pray

for you." The humble penitent did immediately all that he had been

desired to do, after which Francis embraced him, and said, with great

mildness: "My son, it is not so much against the poor man that you

have sinned, as against Jesus Christ, for He is in all the poor: they

are so many mirrors, in which He represents to us His own poverty, and

that of His Blessed Mother. Therefore, as often as you see the poor

and the sick, respect them, and humble yourself in their presence;

consider, with sentiments of piety, that the Son of God made Himself

poor for our sakes, and condescended to take upon Himself our

infirmities."

If we cherish these Christianlike views, we should not judge so harshly

of the poor, of whom it is no less faulty to judge, than of the rich;

and in their poverty we should find as powerful motives for loving

Jesus Christ, as for affording the succor they require.

The heart of St. Francis was naturally so kind and so tender, that he

felt an affection for creatures, but it was from a profound sentiment

of piety that he called them his brothers and his sisters. Going back

to the origin of things, St. Bonaventure says that he considered all

that had being as having emanated from the bosom of the Divinity, and

he acknowledged that they had the same principle as himself. In fact,

the creation established amongst them a sort of fraternity: God being

the parent of all nature, it is not to be denied that, in this sense,

everything which composes it is brotherly. And who can censure a man

who is wholly religious, for expressing himself in a manner which is

grounded on the first principles of religion? This trait shows both

the elevation of his mind, and the piety of his heart; heretics alone

can blame it.

Among animals, those he preferred were such as reminded him of the

mildness of Jesus Christ, or were the symbol of some particular virtue,

or which gave rise to some edifying reflections; and God has sometimes

shown by miracles, how much the motive of these feelings was pleasing

to Him. Lambs were peculiarly agreeable to the holy man, in memory of

the meek Lamb who permitted Himself to be led to the slaughter, for

the redemption of sinners; he frequently had them purchased, to prevent

their being killed.

While he was staying at the Monastery of St. Vereconda, which is in

the Diocese of Gubbio, he found that on the previous night a sow had

killed with its teeth a lamb, which had just been born. The Lamb without

spot, whom sinners put to death, flashed immediately upon his

recollection, and the pity this excited in him, caused him to lament

sorely the death of the little animal, which was a symbol of meekness;

to curse the cruel beast which had killed it, and to wish that neither

man nor beast might eat of its flesh. The sow was at that moment struck

with a disease, of which it died in three days. It was thrown into a

ravine, not far distant from the monastery, and no animal ventured to

touch it: it became dry and hard as a piece of wood. St. Bonaventure

remarks, on this occasion, that if God was pleased to punish with death

the cruelty of a beast, how infinitely more severe must not the

punishment of cruel and pitiless men be in the other world.

A lad went to Sienna to sell some turtle-doves, which he had taken

alive. Francis met him on his way, and said: "These are innocent birds,

which are compared in Scripture to chaste and faithful souls I beg you

earnestly not to put them into the hands of persons who would kill

them, but to confide them to me." They were given to him, and he put

them immediately into his bosom; he spoke to them as if they were

capable of reasoning, not only by that natural impulse which induces

us constantly to speak to animals, when we caress them, but also by

an impression of the spirit of God. He told them of a great miracle,

promising to prepare a nest for them, where they might increase and

multiply, according to the intention of their Creator. Having taken

them to his Convent of Ravacciano, near the walls of Sienna, he forced

his stick into the ground before the gate, and the stick became, by

the following day, a large evergreen oak. He let the turtle-doves fly

into it, desiring them to make their nests there, which they did for

many succeeding years; and they were so familiar with the religious,

that they came to feed from their hands. Wading says that the tree was

still there at his time and that many saw it.

Nor did the young man go unrewarded. Francis told him that he would

become a religious of his Order, and that he would acquire eternal

glory: he did, in fact, enter the Order, and lived so holily as to

earn Heaven. The miracle was the cause of his vocation, and at the

same time sanctioned the affection the Saint showed these birds: he

only loved God through the affection he showed to His creatures. So

also, St. Gregory Thaumaturgus, according to the testimony of St.

Gregory of Nyssa, having planted his stick in a spot where a river was

breaking down the dyke and doing damage through the country, the Lord

changed it suddenly into a large tree, which checked the flood entirely,

and served to honor the faith of his Servant, and incite the infidels

to believe in Jesus Christ.

The Divine love which inflamed the heart of St. Francis, made everything

appear amiable to him which could tend to the love and service of God.

For this reason he was fond of birds, whose carol seemed to invite

mankind to publish the glory of their Creator, for, according to the

words of Jesus Christ, "neither do they sow nor reap, nor gather into

barns: yet their Heavenly Father feeds them." It was gratifying to him

to remark the gray and ash color of larks, the color he had chosen for

his Order, so that the minors might often think on death. He also loved

to admire the disposition of the plumage of such as were crested, which

seemed to him to have some relation to the simplicity of his habit.

On the lark rising into the air, and singing as soon as it has taken

some grains of corn for its nourishment, he remarked with sensible

pleasure that this example ought to teach us to give thanks to our

common Father, who gives us wherewithal for our sustenance, only to eat

for His glory, to despise the earth, and to raise ourselves up to

Heaven, where our conversation ought to be. He was more fond of these

small birds than of any others, because they induced holy thoughts,

and he took as much care of them as he could.

As he had noble and spiritual motives for his simplest and most common

actions, God made use of this for the instruction of men by the example

of a bird. Near the Convent of Mount Ranier, or Mount Colombo, there

was a nest of crested larks, the mother of which came every day to

feed out of the hand of the Servant of God and took sufficient for

herself and her brood: when they began to be strong, she brought the

little ones to him. He perceived that the strongest of the brood pecked

the others, and prevented them from taking up the grain. This displeased

him, and addressing himself to the little bird as if it could understand

him, "Cruel and insatiable little animal," he said, "you will die

miserably, and the greediest animals will not be willing to eat your

flesh," In fact, some days afterwards, it was drowned in a basin, which

was placed for them to drink out of. It was given to the cats and dogs,

to see if they would eat it; but neither would touch it. It may be

thought that so trifling an anecdote was not worth recording, but there

is nothing trifling in the moral it contains. It is a natural

representation of those greedy and insatiable men who devour the

substance of their brethren, and envy them all that they cannot despoil

them of; enemies of mankind, unworthy of the name of men, thieves,

ruffians, ravaging wolves, as they are designated in Scripture, whose

voracity, say the Holy Fathers, surpasses that of wild beasts; whose

life is a public calamity; hated and detested by all, during their

lives, they die as they have lived, and their memory is held in

execration.

The tender-heartedness which Francis evinced for animals has been

ridiculed by heretics. Nevertheless, the Holy Ghost tells us, by the

mouth of Wisdom, that "the just man regardeth the lives of his beasts."

The Patriarch Jacob excused himself from following his brother Esau,

because his ewes and cows were heavy, and he was fearful he should

kill them if he hurried them. When St. Paul said, "Doth God take care

of oxen?" he only wished to insinuate that God is far more interested

in what regards men.

In this view St. Chrysostom, commenting on the words of Wisdom, which

we have just quoted, says that the saints are tender-hearted; that

they love all men, strangers as well as their own countrymen and their

own families, and that their good feelings are extended to senseless

animals.

Sulpicius Severus relates of St. Martin, that, seeing some hounds

pursuing a hare, which they were on the point of catching, he ordered

them to stop; he had no sooner spoken, than the hounds became immovable

on the spot where they were, and they did not stir till the hare was

placed in safety.

An author of the life of St. Bernard, who had been his secretary, says

that not only men, but irrational animals, even birds, and other beasts,

felt the effects of his tenderness. He adds that the Saint, in one of

his journeys, coming close to a hare, which the dogs were about to

catch, and where a bird was nearly seized in the talons of a hawk,

delivered them both miraculously by the sign of the cross, and then

told the sportsmen that all their efforts would be useless for taking

this prey.

If it had been thought proper not to omit in his life, and in that of

St. Martin also, these anecdotes of the goodness of their hearts, which

were enhanced by supernatural evidence, and of which God approved by

His wisdom and His power, what right can critics have to censure

precisely similar circumstances in the life of St. Francis?

The glorious Patriarch, who praised God in the minutest things, procured

his glory in the greatest. His principal care was to lead his brethren

to perfection; to render them worthy imitators of Jesus crucified,

capable of exciting His love in all hearts. It would be difficult to

point out the founder of an order who had spoken more, taught more,

or exhorted more, than St. Francis; and it may have been noticed that

he instructed his disciples in the most solid and eminent virtues. He

recommended them to put the Gospel in practice, as they had promised

to do in making profession of the rule; to adore profoundly and with

great devotion the Body of Jesus Christ; to hear Mass most devoutly;

to celebrate the Divine Office with attention; carefully to keep all

the ordinances of the Church; to have the greatest veneration for all

priests, humbly to bow in their presence, and to kiss their hands. He

even said that, if it could be done, they ought to kiss the feet of

the horses on which they rode, to honor the power which they have of

consecrating and administering the Divine mysteries.

When abroad, it was his desire that his religious should appear with

so much modesty, reserve, and circumspection, that every one might be

edified thereby, and glorify God therein. "Do not despise the men of

the world," he said, "and judge not ill of them. You are not to judge

other persons' servants, who are not yours; whether they stand or fall,

it is not your affair, but that of their masters. Have peace in your

own mind, make it known to others, inspire it to all; labor for the

conversion of sinners, for that is your vocation."

Attentive to the regulation of the interior, he incessantly exhorted

them to correct the smallest defects; to exercise themselves in the

practice of holy prayer, to meditate on the Passion of our Blessed

Saviour, and to use all their efforts to preserve union and fraternal

love. "Happy," said he, "is the man who loves his brother when absent,

as well as when they are together, and who would not say in his absence

what charity would prevent his saying in his presence."

In the view of rendering his brethren more perfect, he frequently

counteracted the bent of their devotion. Brother Masse was a very

spiritual man, who was much attached to prayer. Francis, in order to

try him, said to him one day, in presence of the others: "Brother,

these have received from God a greater gift of contemplation than you

have. For which reason, in order to give them more time to give

themselves very freely to it, it seems proper that you, who seem more

calculated for exterior duties, should have the care of the door and

of the kitchen, and, if there is any time over, you will employ it in

questing. Take great care that the strangers who may call, do not

interrupt your brethren in their meditations. As soon as they may knock

at the door, be there ready to receive them, satisfy them with fair

words, and do everything which the others would have done, so that it

shall not be necessary for any of them to make their appearance. Go

in peace, and fail not in doing all these things, in order to have the

merit of obedience."

Masse, bowing his head, submitted to the order of his superior, without

hesitation or murmur, and, during several days, he acquitted himself

faithfully of what had been directed. His companions, who knew his

virtue, and the love he had for prayer, had scruples at seeing him in

these employments, and begged their father to permit them to share

these duties with him. He assented, and, sending for Masse, said to

him: "Brother, your companions wish to relieve and assist you, and I

also wish that they may have a share in the labors." To which Mass

replied, "Father, I consider as coming from God whatever duties you

direct, whether it be my work or prayer." St. Francis, seeing the charity

on the one part, and the humility on the other, gave them an exhortation

on these two virtues, and distributed the duties among them, with his

blessing.

What he had ardently desired for himself, and what he was rejoiced to

see some of his brethren look forward to most anxiously, was the

perfection which consists in suffering martyrdom: in shedding one's

blood for the faith. As he could not obtain this favor, and as it was

only granted to a few of his brethren during his lifetime, he

endeavored to make up for it by another species of martyrdom, which,

as St. Bernard says, is indeed less cruel than the first, but is

rendered more bitter by its duration. It is the martyrdom of

mortification, and principally that of voluntary poverty. In fact,

this poverty, as he compelled its observance, not only placed him and

his brethren in the most humiliating situation in the eyes of the

world, but deprived them, moreover, of all the comforts and conveniences

of life; exposed them to hunger, thirst, want of clothing, and various

other annoying discomforts. All this, however, was not, in his view,

the consummation of this description of martyrdom. It was still further

requisite to suffer patiently, in time of pain and sickness, the want

of assistance, which poverty cannot command, to see the disease

increase, and death about to follow, from want of necessary succor.

His charity had taken all possible precaution for procuring assistance

to the sick of his Order. He had directed that, if any of the brethren

fell sick, the others should attend upon them, as they would wish to

be themselves waited upon in like circumstances, and with more affection

than a mother has for a beloved son. Notwithstanding the great aversion

he had to money, he required that the superiors should make application

to their spiritual friends, to induce them to give coins, in order to

assist the brethren in their sickness. But, as he foresaw that this

measure might not always be successful, and that poverty in such a

case would put it out of the power of the superiors to procure what

was absolutely necessary for the sick, he pointed out to the brethren

what perfection called upon them to do:

"If one of the brethren, in health or in sickness, finds himself unable,

through poverty, to procure what his absolute necessities require,

provided he has humbly applied to his superior for them for the love

of God, let him bear with the privation, for the love of Jesus Christ,

who sought for consolation, but found none. It is a suffering which,

will be in His sight a substitute for martyrdom; if this should even

increase his disease, he must not fear being guilty of suicide, for

he has done all he ought to have done, by applying humbly to his

superiors." The maxim is well grounded. St. Chrysostom maintains, that

to suffer generously the loss of all goods, as did holy Job, is a

species of martyrdom. St. Bernard says the same thing of voluntary

poverty, and remarks that, in the Beatitudes, a similar reward is

promised to the poor and to martyrs. On those principles, is not a

Friar Minor to be looked upon as a martyr, who, having embraced the

strictest poverty, for the love of Jesus Christ, would, rather than

contravene it, endure with patience every evil, and even death, and

would generously make to God the sacrifice of his health and of his

life, in order to practise this virtue to his last breath? St. Augustine

affirms that a Christian suffers martyrdom in his bed, when he declines

procuring his cure by forbidden means: thus, a sick Friar Minor, who

has not the necessary assistance, brought about by his having embraced

poverty, according to the Evangelical counsel, is a martyr to poverty.

Even supposing that it was less owing to poverty, than to the neglect

or harshness of his superior, that he was without assistance, he would

equally have gained the crown promised to this description of martyrdom,

since it would be as an Evangelical pauper that he would suffer and

die. But woe to that superior who should procure him such a crown! He

would be like to those who have made so many martyrs in the persecution

of the Church.

When St. Francis learnt that his brethren, by the sanctity of their

lives, and by the efficacy of their preaching, brought back numbers

of sinners into the paths of truth, and enkindled in their breasts the

love of God, he said that such intelligence was to him as most pleasing

odors and precious perfumes, by which he was wholly embalmed; and, in

his spiritual joy, he loaded these holy and edifying religious with

the most ample benedictions. On the other hand, he fulminated dreadful

maledictions against such as dishonored religion by their conduct.

"Most holy Lord," he would say, "may those who overthrow and destroy

by their bad example what Thou incessantly raisest up by the saintly

brethren of the Order, be accursed by Thee and by the whole celestial

choir, and also by me, Thy little servant."

Any scandal given to little ones gave him so much affliction and

heartsore, that he often might have died of it, if God had not supported

him by interior consolations. One day, when he was suffering extreme

grief on a subject of this nature, and was praying the Father of Mercies

for his children, St. Bonaventure informs us that he received the

following answer: "Poor little man, why do you disquiet yourself?

Because I have appointed you the pastor of this religion which I have

established, are you unmindful that I am its principal protector? I

gave you the direction of it, to you who are a simple man, in order

that what I should do through you might be attributed, not to human

industry, but to my favor. It is I who called those who have entered

it; I will preserve them, and provide for their wants; I will substitute

others for those who will die off; I will cause some to be born, in

order to come into it; and whatever may occur to shake this religion,

which is founded on strict poverty. I will assist by My grace, that

it shall be always upheld." Up to this day, the world has seen the

verification of this prophecy. The Order of Friars Minor has been

powerfully attacked, and has still many enemies; nevertheless, it still

subsists.

To animate his brethren to perfection, he employed example, rather

than precept. When he imposed punishments, if they appeared to him to

be very severe, he took them also on himself. Having sent Brother

Ruffinus to preach at Assisi without his hood, because he had sought

to be excused from preaching, he reflected on the severity of this

order, and went himself to the church where Ruffinus was preaching.

The latter having left the pulpit to give it up to Francis, he began

his discourse, and instilled into his audience so much compunction,

that it was evident that God had blessed the obedience of the disciple

and the example of the master.

This admirable preceptor taught no virtues which he did not himself

practise in an eminent degree; and as those which are exterior make

the greatest impression, he practised extreme austerity, in order that

the others should imitate him. Having noticed, on a certain occasion,

that some of his brethren had relaxed from the extreme poverty of their

nourishment, he thus slyly reprimanded them: "My brethren may well

believe that, with so infirm a body as mine is, I require better

nourishment than what I get, but I am obliged to be their model in

everything; for which reason I propose to give up every alleviation,

and to cast aside, with disgust, everything resembling delicacy; to

be satisfied with little in everything; to make use of those things

only which are the commonest, vilest, and most conformable to strict

poverty."

Being in a hermitage in some mountains, in mid-winter, when the weather

was rigorously cold and severe, his companions prepared a habit for

him, in which they lined the breast, to make it somewhat warmer for

him, but he made them take this out, saying: "I am placed here to give

example to others; my life must be their rule. I know that there is

no harm in wearing a warmer habit in the state I am in, but I see many

of our brethren who require it as much as I do, and who could not get

it. I must therefore bear this poverty with them, and not differ from

them in anything, lest it should be thought that I take greater care

of myself than of the others. They will more willingly bear the

privation of these wants, when they shall see that I voluntarily go

without aid." His three companions, the writers of his life, observed

that he refused his body the most lawful indulgence, in order that his

children should be ashamed of taking those which were less so; and

that his maxim was, always to give instruction more by example than

by discourse.

He recommended his brethren, also, to preach by example, and, farther

on, we shall see some beautiful sentiments in his maxims, relative to

preaching. Rodriguez, of the Society of Jesus, an excellent master of

spiritual life, mentions, on this subject, a lesson which our saint

gave to one of his religious, which we give here, in the very words

of the talented academician, who translated the Practice of Christian

Perfection, of the pious author. St. Francis, taking one day one of

his religious with him, said:--"Let us go and preach"; and thereupon

he went out, and after having made a tour round the town, he returned

to the convent. "But, Father," said his companion, "are we not going

to preach?" "We have done so already," replied the Saint. It was the

religious reserve which they had used in walking through the streets,

which he considered to be an excellent sermon for the whole town. And,

in fact, a mortified and humble exterior leads the people to piety and

contempt of the world, it excites to compunction for sin, and raises

the heart and desires to heavenly objects. It is a mute exhortation,

which has often more effect than the most eloquent and sublime sermons.

To example and precept, the holy Patriarch added frequent and fervent

prayers for the spiritual advancement of his children; well knowing

that neither he who plants, nor he who waters, contributes to the fruit

which the tree bears, but that the interior virtue which fructifies,

comes from God. In fine, in order not to be wanting in anything which

might be in his power, when his infirmities absolutely prevented his

watching over the conduct of his children, he unceasingly exhorted the

superiors to fulfil this duty with exactness, and he enforced it by

the following powerful motive: that, if one of the brethren should be

lost by their fault, they would be accountable for him to Jesus Christ

on the day of judgment.

St. Francis, being ill at Assisi, cured a spiritual wound of a more

serious nature than that of a scruple. One of his children, named

Ricer, of Bologna, Provincial in the Marches of Ancona, a man of a

very saintly life, had taken it into his head, at the suggestion of

the devil, that the patriarch hated him, because he knew that he was

to be damned, and he came to Assisi, in the hopes that this thought

would be dissipated, if the saint should receive him kindly. The Saint,

who had a revelation as to the state of his mind, and of his arrival

at Assisi, said to Brothers Masse and Leo: "Go and meet Brother Ricer,

embrace him, and kiss him from me, and tell him that, among all my

brethren in the world, I love him the most tenderly." They executed

the commission given them, and Ricer found himself strengthened in his

faith, and filled with joy, and thanked God for the happy success of

his journey. As soon as he appeared, Francis, weak as he was, ran to

him, and, embracing him, said, with paternal affection: "Ricer, my

dear son, you are, among all our brethren, he whom I love from the

bottom of my heart;" and, after having made the sign of the cross upon

his forehead, he gave him several kisses, and then added: "Ricer, my

dear child, this temptation was visited upon you for your greater good.

But if you do not choose to be a gainer at this price, you will

henceforward suffer no more from this temptation, nor from any other;"

and from that time, he never had another.

The holy Patriarch had so tender a love for his brethren, that he could

not bear that a shade of sorrowfulness should pass over their minds,

lest they should lose their spiritual joy. "My dear brethren," he said

to them, "entertain interiorly and exteriorly the holy joy which God

gives. When His servants seek to obtain and preserve His spiritual

joy, which has its source in purity of heart, in the fervor of prayer,

and in other virtuous practices, the devils can do them no injury; and

they say: 'We can do no injury to these servants of God; we have no

entry to them; they are always joyful, whether in tribulation or

prosperity.' But they are highly gratified when they can deprive them

of this happy temper of mind, or, at least, lessen its intensity;

because, if they can succeed in instilling any of their own venom into

them, they will soon turn what has only the breadth of a hair into a

beam, by adding something by little and little, unless we endeavor to

destroy their work by the virtue of prayer, of contrition, of

confession, and satisfaction. For this reason, my brethren, since

spiritual joy comes from purity of conscience and the frequent exercise

of fervent prayer, labor principally to acquire these two blessings,

in order that you always possess it; I am very anxious to see it in

you, and to feel it in myself. It is for the devil and his satellites

to be sorrowful; but as to us, we can always rejoice in the Lord."

Although the holy man had occasionally reason to be sorrowful, in

consequence of the temptations to which he was exposed, or from the

fear of the pains of hell, arising from the remembrance of his sins,

yet he was ever gay. He was one day asked the reason of this, and he

gave this answer: "My sins sometimes, indeed, make me very sorrowful,

and Satan would wish to imprint this sadness on me, in order to make

me fall into slothfulness and weariness; but when that occurs, I look

on my companion: the spiritual joy I see in him, renews mine, and the

temptation passes off. My joy is a torment to the devils, for they

envy me the favors I receive from God. I know and see that, when they

cannot injure me by making me sorrowful, they endeavor to strip this

spiritual joy from my companions, and, if they cannot succeed either

with them or with me, they retire in confusion."

We must notice, in this answer of the holy Father, two sorts of sorrow:

the one arising from the anguish caused by sin, of which St. Paul says,

that "it is according to God, and works penance unto salvation." This

does not do away with spiritual joy; on the contrary, it produces it:

nothing is sweeter, or more consoling, than the tears shed from the

impulse of sincere contrition. The other sorrow is a depression of

spirits, brought about by the devil, who endeavors to render us tepid

and sluggish, to give us a disgust for pious exercises, and to induce

us to give them up. A good conscience causes spiritual joy. No one has

truly cause to rejoice, but he who is well with God, faithful to His

law, and submissive to His will. A tranquil mind, free and disengaged

from the tyranny of the passions, is, in the opinion of Wisdom, a

continual feast. It is true happiness: "For a happy life is nothing

more," says St. Augustine, "than the joy which is found in truth; that

is, in God, who is truth, the sweet light of our souls, our salvation

and our repose." Therefore David excites the just of Israel to manifest

their joy, and St. Paul said to the Christians: "Rejoice always in the

Lord; I say again, rejoice." What constitutes the Kingdom of God is

the justice, peace, and joy, which come from the Holy Spirit.

This disposition of the heart enables it to resist the evil spirit,

according to the words of Esdras to the Jewish people: "The joy of the

Lord is our strength." What can the evil spirit do against a soul whose

sole pleasure is to serve God, who has no other solace than to love

and praise Him? There is, moreover, nothing which makes so great an

impression on the people of the world, as witnessing the interior

contentment of a truly good man, which is seen in the serenity of his

countenance. This is, according to St. Augustine, what compels them

to admit that they themselves have not true joy, for that is reserved

to God's servants.

It was not alone by the ardor of his zeal, and the tenderness of his

affection, that the holy Founder led on his brethren, but by a wonderful

discretion and prudence in the government of his Order. Although he

used every endeavor to induce his religious to live austerely, he,

nevertheless, recommended them to be guided by moderation; he did not

countenance indiscreet penances.

Brother Sylvester, the first priest in his Order, having fallen into

an illness of languor, brought on by excess in his mortifications, had

a wish to eat some grapes: Francis, having been informed of it, hastened

to procure him this relief. He took him, as well as he could, into the

vineyard of one of his friends, which was near the convent, and, having

made him sit down near a plant of vine, he blessed it, and ordered him

to eat the grapes, and ate some with him. As soon as the sick man had

eaten of them, he found himself perfectly cured, and he frequently

afterwards related the circumstance to his brethren, with tears in his

eyes, as a proof of the love the holy father bore to his children; it

was, also, an effect of his discretion, for, disapproving of Sylvester's

excessive austerities, he chose that he should take this sort of remedy,

which nature seemed to call for, and it pleased God to render this the

subject of a miracle.

This prudent and charitable Father came to know, one night, that one

of his children who had fasted too rigidly, could not take repose, in

consequence of the hunger which oppressed him. Not to leave him in so

deplorable a state, he sent for him, offered him some bread, and pressed

him to eat of it, eating some himself first, to give him confidence.

The religious got over the shyness he at first felt, and took the

nourishment he so greatly required, being well pleased to have been

relieved from the peril his life was in, by the prudence and kindness

of the Saint, and to see so edifying an example. In the morning, Francis

assembled his brethren, and having told them what had occurred in the

night, said:--"Brethren, take a precedent from this, not as to what

I ate, but that I had recourse to, what was charitable." Then he pointed

out to them that virtue should always have discretion for its rule and

for its guide; not that discretion which the flesh inspires, but that

which has been taught by Jesus Christ, whose most holy life is the

finished model of all perfection.

"Let each man," he continued, "have regard to his constitution. If

some of you are strong enough to support life well, while eating very

little, I do not wish, on that account, that one who requires more

nourishment, shall imitate them in this respect: such a one might give

his body what is necessary for it; for, as in eating, we are obliged

to avoid whatever is superfluous, which is hurtful to the body and

soul, so also we must guard against excessive abstinence, and the more

so because the Lord requires mercy rather than sacrifice. This is what

God says by the Prophet Osee, which means that He prefers the practice

of works of mercy to our neighbor, to the exterior exercise of religion;

and that this worship which must be rendered Him, is not pleading to

Him without mercy. Now, as we are commanded to love our neighbor with

a love of charity, St. Thomas teaches us, as does St. Augustine, that

the same love obliges us to have a similar regard for our own body;

from whence it follows that, this charity not being found in immoderate

abstinence, God does not approve of the sacrifice. To this we may add,

that it is sometimes the devil who instigates a person to undertake

immoderate fasting, in order to render that person incapable of

spiritual exercises, and for other evil intentions."

The holy Founder cautioned his brethren to avoid excess in fasting,

even more than excess in eating, because he knew that they were all

animated by the spirit of mortification. Their fervor was so great

that, in fasting very rigorously, they at the same time wore iron

girdles, coats of mail, coarse hair-shirts, and took severe disciplines,

which brought on frequent illnesses. For this reason he often

recommended discretion to them. "My brethren," he said, "if a servant

of God gives his body what is reasonable for its nourishment and for

its repose, and if the body is nevertheless sluggish, lazy, sleepy at

prayer, in watchings, and other good works, it must, then, be chastised,

and treated as a horse that refuses to work, or an ass that won't go

on, although they are well fed. But, if the body is deprived of its

real wants, it is disabled from bearing the yoke of penance, and

performing the functions required by the soul; it has, then, every

right to complain."

We shall, perhaps, be surprised that St. Francis, who preaches

discretion so admirably to his brethren, should have carried his own

austerities to excess; but we must bear in mind that he was a man,

guided in all things by the Holy Spirit, in whom God was pleased to

show the abundant riches of His grace, and whose prodigious penitential

exercises were to draw down an abundance of mercy on sinners. Thus,

what appeared excesses in his mortifications, arose from his perfect

fidelity to the extraordinary impulse he received from above; and this

is true prudence.

Fervent persons are occasionally found who would wish to imitate the

fastings and other austerities of the saints, but this is presumption,

unless they are called thereto by God, and unless the vocation has

been well sounded and approved by legitimate authority. The general

and safe maxim, in cases of austerities, is not to undertake anything

extraordinary, without the consent of superiors and confessors. Before

granting any permission of this nature, the constitution and character

of the person must be carefully examined, and inquiry minutely made

whether the applicant practises regularly the ordinary mortifications,

and if he is as zealous in controlling his passions and acquiring the

virtues requisite in his station, as for the maceration of his body;

for it is often found that those who solicit extraordinary penances,

neglect those which are ordinary and common, and who, in mortifying

their bodies, do not take sufficient pains to purify their hearts, to

become humble, obedient, mild, and charitable.

It may not, perhaps, be believed that the holy Patriarch carried his

discretion and condescension even to the buildings and the habits,--he

who advocated extreme poverty on these two articles. He had carefully

recommended to his brethren to build only small, low houses, surrounded

only by hedges, in remote and solitary situations; but, as his own

companions tell us, he admitted that in towns, and near towns, it was

proper to act otherwise; that, in consequence of the number of religious

who were there for the service of the faithful, it was necessary to

have the convent surrounded by walls.

His companions also say that he allowed those who required it, to wear

a softer and warmer tunic; on this sole condition, however, that the

outward garment should be very poor, to keep up the spirit of humility

by the contempt the world entertains for such as are poorly clothed.

Finally, the same authors testify that, although he was very austere

from the moment of his conversion, to his death, with a constitution

very delicate and weak, yet he prudently moderated the austerities of

his brethren; and that many things which he rigidly refused himself,

he allowed to the others, from discretion and from charity. This,

indeed, is characteristic in the saints; severe and inflexible to

themselves, they spared their neighbors, and were indulgent in their

regard; while hypocrites, such as the Pharisees, and certain heretics

who resemble them, put heavy burdens on the shoulders of others, which

they are unable to carry; overwhelm with austerities those whom they

direct, often for the most trifling faults, while they themselves live

in comfort and at their ease.

The discretion of St. Francis was apparent in every part of his conduct.

Bernard de Besse, one of the writers of his life, and secretary to St.

Bonaventure, says that he never spoke to his brethren but in terms of

moderation and mildness; that he compassionated the weak, and encouraged

the young in the practice of virtue; that he had great respect for old

age; that whatever faults a priest might commit, he never reprimanded

him but in private; in fine, that he had proper consideration for all

those whose birth, merit, or dignity required it.

Brother Guy, who was beatified by the Holy See, and of whom we have

before spoken, begged the saint to allow him to build a cell in the

fissure of a rock which was opposite to the convent of Celles, near

Cortona, in order that he might live there in great solitude, and give

himself up to contemplation. Francis, who knew that Guy, although he

was only in the novitiate, had the virtue of the ancients, and would

raise himself up to an eminent degree of sanctity, permitted him this

peculiar retreat, but upon this condition, that it was not to prevent

him from attending all the offices said by the community, in order to

preserve the uniformity of the observance, and to obviate the illusion

which might mix itself up with unusual practices. This was also what

the Saint himself practised; he quitted regularly his contemplation,

to join in singing the praise of God in community.

St. Bonaventure says that some of his religious asked him one day if

he thought it proper that persons who were already learned, when they

were admitted into the Order, should continue to study the Holy

Scriptures? To which he replied: "This is very pleasing to me, provided

they follow the example of Jesus Christ, whom we find to have prayed

St. Francis was far from thinking that we may glory in our sufferings,