# The Mediaeval Mind/Chapter 18

CHAPTER XVIII
ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI
Twenty-Nine years after the death of St. Bernard, Francis was born in the Umbrian hill town of Assisi. The year was 1182. On the fourth of October 1226, in the forty-fifth year of his age, this most loving and best beloved of mediaeval saints breathed his last, in the little church of the Portiuncula, within the shadows of that same hill town.
Of all mediaeval saints, Bernard and Francis impressed themselves most strongly upon their times. Neither of them was pre-eminently an intellectual force—Francis especially would not have been what he was but for certain childlike qualities of mind which never fell away from him. ​The power of these men sprang from their personalities and the vivida vis (their contemporaries would have said, the grace of God) realizing itself in every word and act. Bernard's power was more directly dependent upon the conditions of his epoch, and his influence was more limited in duration.
The reason is not far to seek. Both men were of the Middle Ages, even of those decades in which they lived. But Bernard's strength was part of the medium wherein he worked and the evil against which he fought—the clerical corruptions, the heresies, the schisms and political controversies, the warfare of Christ with Mahomet,—all matters of vital import for his time, but which were to change and pass.
Francis, on the other hand, was occupied with none of these. He was no scourge of clerical corruptions, no scourge of anything; he knew nought of heresy or schism, nothing of politics or war; into the story of his life there comes not even a far-off echo of the Albigensian Crusade or the conflict between pope and emperor. His life appears detached from the special conditions of his time; it is neither held within them nor compelled by them, but only by its inner impulse. For it was not occupied with the exigencies of Italy and Germany, or Southern France, during that first quarter of the thirteenth century, when De Montfort was hurling the orthodox and brutal north upon the fair but heretical provinces of Languedoc, and when ​Innocent III. was excommunicating Otho IV., and Frederick II. was disclosing himself as the most dangerous foe the papacy had yet known. The passing turmoil and danger of the time did not touch this life; the man knew naught of all these things. He was not considering thirteenth-century Italians, Frenchmen, and Germans; he was fascinated with men as men, with the dumb brutes as fellow-creatures, and even with plants and stones as vessels of God's loveliness or symbols of His Word; above all he was absorbed in Christ, who had taken on humanity for him, had suffered for him, died for him, and who now around, above, within him, inspired and directed his life.
So Francis's life was not compassed by its circumstances; nor was its effect limited to the thirteenth century. His life partook of the eternal and the universal, and might move men in times to come as simply and directly as it turned men's hearts to love in the years when Francis was treading the rough stones of Assisi.
On the other hand, Francis was mediaeval and in a way to give concrete form and colour to the elements of universal manhood that were his. He was mediaeval in complete and finished mode; among mediaeval men he offers perhaps the most distinct and most perfectly consistent individuality. He is Francis of Assisi, born in 1182 and dying in 1226, and no one else who ever lived either there and then or elsewhere at some other time. He is Francis of Assisi perfectly and always, a man presenting a complete artistic unity, never exhibiting act or word or motive out of character with himself.
From a slightly different point of view we may perceive how he was a perfect individual and at the same time a perfect mediaeval type. There was no element in his character which was not assimilated and made into Francis of Assisi. Anterior and external influences contributed to make this Francis. But in entering him they ceased to be what they had been; they changed and became Francis. For example, nothing of the antique, no distinct bit of classical inheritance, appears in him; if, in any way, he was touched by it—as in his joyous love of life and the world about him—the influence had ceased to be anything distinct ​in him; it had become himself. Likewise, whatever he may have known of the Fathers and of all the dogmatic possession and ecclesiastical tradition of the Church, this also was remade in Francis. Evidently such an all-assimilating and transforming individuality could not have existed in those earlier centuries when the immature mediaeval world was taking over its great inheritance from the pagan and Christian antique—those centuries when men could but turn their heritage of thought and knowledge this way and that, disturb and distort and rearrange it. Such an individuality as Francis could exist only at the climax of the Middle Age, at the period of its fullest strength and greatest distinction, when it had masterfully changed after its own heart whatever it had received from the past, and had made its transformed acquisitions into itself.
Francis is of this grand mediaeval climacteric. The Middle Ages were no longer in a stage of transition from the antique; they had attained; they were themselves. Sides of this distinctive mediaeval development and temper express themselves in Francis—are Francis verily. The spirit of romance is incarnate in him. Roland, Oliver, Charlemagne (he of the Chansons de geste), and the knights of the Round Table, are part of Francis;—his first disciples are his paladins. Again, instead of emperor or paladin, he is himself the jongleour, the joculator Dei (God's minstrel).
And of all that had become Francis the greatest was Christ. He had not taken the theology of Augustine; he had not taken the Christ handed over by the transition centuries to the early Middle Ages; he had not adopted the Christ of the ecclesiastical hierarchy. He took Jesus from the Gospel, or at least such elements of Jesus' life and teaching as he felt and understood. Francis modelled his life on his understanding of Christ and His teaching. So many another saint had done; in fact, so must all Christians try to do. Francis accomplished it with completeness and power; he created a new Christ life; a Christ life partial and reduced from the breadth and balance of the original, yet veritable and living. Francis himself felt that his whole life was Christ-directed and inspired, and that even because of his own special insignificance Christ ​had chosen him to show forth the true Gospel life again—but chosen him indeed.
Although the life of Francis appears as if detached from the larger political and ecclesiastical movements of the time, it yields glimpses of the ways and doings of the people of Assisi. We see their jealousies and quarrels, their war with Perugia, also their rustic readiness to jeer at the unusual and incomprehensible; or we are struck with instances of the stupid obstinacy and intolerance often characterizing a small community. Again, we see in some of those citizens an open and quick impulsiveness, which, at the sight of love, may turn to love. It would seem as if the harshest, most impossible man of all the town was Peter Bernardone, a well-to-do merchant whose affairs took him often from Assisi, and not infrequently to France.
Bernardone had a predilection for things French, and the child born to his wife while he was absent in France, he called Francis upon his return, although the mother had given it the name of John. The mother, whose name was Pica, may have been of Provençal or French blood. Apparently such education as Francis received in his boyhood was as much French as Italian. Through all his life he never lost the habit of singing French songs which he composed himself.
​The biographers assert that Francis was nourished in worldly vanity and insolence. His temperament drew him to the former, but kept him from the latter. For while he delighted in making merry with his friends, he was always distinguished by a winning courtesy of manner toward poor and rich. An innate generosity was also his, and he loved to spend money as he roamed with his companions about Assisi singing jovial choruses and himself the leader of the frolic. Bernardone did not object to his son's squandering some money in a way which led others to admire him and think his parents rich; while Pica would keep saying that some day he would be God's son through grace. A vein of sprightly fantasy runs through these gaieties of Francis's, which we may be sure were unstained by any gross dissipation. Francis's life as a saint is peculiarly free from monkish impudicity, free, that is, from morbid dwelling upon things sensual; which shows that in him there was no reaction or need of reaction against any youthful dissoluteness, and bears testimony to the purity of his unconverted years.
In those days Francis loved to be admired and praised. He was possessed with a romantic and imaginative vanity. Costly clothes delighted him as he dreamed of still more royal entertainment, and fancied great things to come. His mind was filled with the figures of Romance; a knight would he be at least; why not a paladin, whom all the world should wonder at? So he dreamed, and so he acted out his whim as best he might on the little stage of Assisi; for Francis was a poet, and a poet even more in deed than in words. He was endowed with exquisite fancy, and he did its dictates never doubting. His life was to prove an almost unexampled inspiration to art, because it was itself a poem by reason of its unfailing realization of the conceptions of a fervent and beautiful imagination.
There came war with Perugia, a very hard-hitting town; and the Assisi cavaliers, Francis among them, found themselves in their neighbours' dungeons. There some desponded; but not Francis. For in these careless days he was always gleeful and jocular, even as afterwards his entire saintly life ​was glad with an invincible gaiety of spirit. So Francis laughed and joked in prison till his fellow-prisoners thought him crazy, which no whit worried him, as he answered with the glad boast that some day he would be adored by all the world. He showed another side of his inborn nature when he was kind to a certain one of the captives whom the rest detested, and tried to reconcile his fellows with him.
It was soon after his release from this twelvemonth captivity that the sails of Francis's spirit began to fill with still more topping hopes, and then to waver strangely. He naturally fell sick after the privations of a Perugia prison. As he recovered and went about with the aid of a staff, the loveliness of field and vineyard failed to please him. He wondered at himself, and suspected that his former pleasures were follies. But it was not so easy to leave off his previous life, and Francis's thoughts were lured back again to this world's glory; for a certain nobleman of Assisi was about to set out on an expedition to Apulia to win gain and fame, and Francis was inflamed to go with him. In the night he dreamed that his father's house with its heaps of cloth and other wares was filled instead with swords and lances, with glittering shields, helmets and breastplates. He awoke in an ecstasy of joy at the great glory portended by this dream. Then he fitted himself out sumptuously, with splendid garb, bright weapons, new armour, and accoutrements, and in due time set forth with his fellow-adventurers.
Once more he wavered. Before reaching Spoleto he stopped, left the company, turned back on his steps, this time impelled more strongly to seek those things which he was to love through life. He was about twenty-three years old. It was his nature to love everything, fame and applause, power perhaps, and joy; but he had not yet loved worthily. Now his Lord was calling him, the voice at first not very certain, and yet becoming stronger. Francis seems to have seen a vision, in which the vanity of his attachments was made clear, and he learned that he was following a servant instead of the Lord. So his heart replied, "Lord, what wouldst thou have me to do?" and then the vision showed him that he should return, for he had ​misunderstood his former dream of arms. When Francis awoke he thought diligently on these matters.
Such spiritual experiences are incommunicable, even though the man should try to tell them. But we know that as Francis had set out joyfully expecting worldly glory, he now returned with exultation, to await the will of the Lord, as it might be shown him. The facts and also their sequence are somewhat confused in the biographies. On his return to Assisi, his comrades seem to have chosen him as lord of their revels; again he ordained a merry feast; but as they set forth singing gleefully, Francis walked behind them, holding his marshal's staff, in silence. Thoughts of the Lord had come again, and withdrawn his attention: he was thinking sweetly of the Lord, and vilely of himself. Soon after he is found providing destitute chapels with the requisites for a decent service; already—in his father's absence—he is filling his table with beggars; and already he has overcome his fastidious temper, has forced himself to exchange the kiss of peace with lepers, and has kissed the livid hands in which he presses alms. He appears to have made a trip to St. Peter's at Rome, where, standing before the altar, it struck him that the Prince of the Apostles was being honoured with mean offerings. So in his own princely way he flung down the contents of his purse, to the wonder of all. Then going without the church, he put on the clothes of a beggar and asked alms.
In such conduct Francis showed himself a poet and a saint. Imagination was required to conceive these extreme, these perfect acts, acts perfect in their carrying out of a lovely thought to its fulfilment, and suffering nothing to impede its perfect realization. So Francis flings down all he has, and not a measure of his goods; he puts on beggars' clothes, and begs; he kisses lepers' hands, eats from the same bowl with them—acts which were perfect in the singleness of their fulfilment of a saintly motive, acts which were likewise beautiful. They are instances of obsession with a saintly idea of great spiritual beauty, obsession so complete that the ridiculous or hideous concomitants of the realization ​serve only to enhance the beauty of the holy thought perfectly fulfilled.
One day at Assisi, passing by the church of St. Damian, Francis was moved to enter for prayer. As he prayed before the Crucifix, the image seemed to say, "Francis, dost thou not see my house in ruins? Rebuild it for me." And he answered, "Gladly, Lord," thinking that the little chape of St. Damian was intended. Filled with joy, having felt the Crucified in his soul, he sought the priest and gave him money to buy oil for the lamp before the Crucifix. This day was ever memorable in Francis's walk with God. His way had lost its turnings; he saw his life before him clear, glad, and full of tears of love. "From that hour his heart was so wounded and melted at the memory of his Lord's passion that henceforth while he lived he carried in his heart the marks of the Lord Jesus. Again he was seen walking near the Portiuncula, wailing aloud. And in response to the inquiries of a priest, he answered: 'I bewail the passion of my Lord Jesus Christ, which it should not shame me to go weeping through the world!' Often as he rose from prayer his eyes were full of blood, because he had wept so bitterly."
It appears to have been after this vision in St. Damian's Church that Francis went on horseback to Foligno, carrying pieces of cloth, which he sold there, and his horse as well. He travelled back on foot, and seeking out St. Damian's astonished little priest, he kissed his hands devoutly and offered him the money. When, for fear of Bernardone, the priest would not receive it, Francis threw it into a box. He prevailed on the priest, however, to let him stay there. What Bernardone thought of this son of his is better only guessing. The St. Damian episode brought matters to a crisis between the two. He came looking for his son, and Francis escaped to a cave, where he spent a month in tears and prayer to the Lord, that he might be freed from his father's pursuit, so that he might fulfil his vows. Gradually courage and joy returned, and he issued from his cave and took his way to the town. Former acquaintances of his pursued him with jeers and stones, as one demented, so ​wretched was he to look upon after his sojourn in the cave. He made no reply, save to give thanks to God. The hubbub reached the father, who rushed out and seized his son, beat him, and locked him up in the house. From this captivity he was released by his mother, in her husband's absence, and again betook himself to St. Damian's.
Shortly afterward Bernardone returned, and would have haled Francis before the magistrates of the town for squandering his patrimony; but his son repudiated their jurisdiction, as being the servant of God. They were glad enough to turn the matter over to the bishop, who counselled Francis to give back the money which was his father's. The scene which followed has been made famous by the brush of Giotto. The Three Companions narrate it thus:
   "Then arose the man of God glad and comforted by the bishop's words, and fetching the money said, 'My lord, not only the money which is his I wish to return to him, but my clothes as well, and gladly.' Then entering the bishop's chamber, he took off his clothes, and placing the money upon them, went out again naked before them, and said: 'Hear ye all and know. Until now I have called Pietro Bernardone my father; but because I have determined to serve God, I return him the money about which he was disturbed, and these clothes which I had from him, wishing only to say, "Our Father who art in heaven" and not "Father Pietro Bernardone."' The man of God was found even then to have worn haircloth beneath his gay garments. His father rising, incensed, took the money and the clothes. As he carried them away to his house, those who had seen the sight were indignant that he had left not a single garment for his son, and they shed tears of pity over Francis. The bishop was moved to admiration at the constancy of the man of God, and embraced him and covered him with his cloak."
Thus Francis was indeed made naked of the world. With joy he hastened back to St. Damian's; and there prepared himself a hermit garb, in which he again set forth through the streets of the city, praising God and soliciting stones to rebuild the Church. As he went he cried that whoever gave one stone should have one reward, and he who gave two, two rewards, and he who gave more as many rewards as he gave stones. Many laughed at him, thinking ​him crazy; but others were moved to tears at the sight of one who from such frivolity and vanity had so quickly become drunken with divine love.
Francis became a beggar for the love of Christ, seeking to imitate Him who, born poor, lived poor, and had no place to lay His head. Not only did he beg stones to rebuild St. Damian's, but he began to go from house to house with a bowl to beg his food. Naked before them all, he had chosen "holy poverty," "lady poverty" for his bride. He was filled with the desire to copy Christ and obey His words to the letter. According to the Three Companions, when the blessed Francis completed the church of St. Damian, his wont was to wear a hermit garb and carry a staff; he wore shoes on his feet and a girdle about him. But listening one day to Jesus' words to His disciples, as He sent them out to preach, not to take with them gold, or silver, or a wallet, or bread, or a staff, or shoes, nor have two cloaks, Francis said with joy: "This is what I desire to fulfil with my whole strength."
The literal imitation of certain particular Gospel instances, and the unconditional carrying out of certain of Christ's specially intended precepts, mark Francis's understanding of his Lord. It is exemplified in the account of the conversion of Francis's first disciple, as told by the Three Companions:
   "As the truth of the blessed Francis's simple life and doctrine became manifest to many, two years after his own conversion, certain men were moved to penitence by his example, and were drawn to give up everything and join with him in life and garb. Of these the first was Bernard of saintly memory, who reflecting upon the constancy and fervour of the blessed Francis in serving God, and with what labour he was repairing ruined churches and leading a hard life, although delicately nurtured, he determined to distribute his property among the poor and cling to Francis. Accordingly one day in secret he approached the man of God and disclosed his purpose, at the same time requesting that on such an evening he would come to him. Having no companion hitherto, the blessed Francis gave thanks to God, and rejoiced greatly, especially as Messer (dominus) Bernard was a man of exemplary life.
   ​"So with exulting heart the blessed Francis went to his house on the appointed evening and stayed all night with him. Messer Bernard said among other things: 'If a person should have much or a little from his lord, and have held it many years, how could he do with the same what would be the best?' The blessed Francis replied that he should return it to his lord from whom he had received it.
   "And Messer Bernard said: 'Therefore, brother, I wish to distribute, in the way that may seem best to thee, all my worldly goods for love of my Lord, who conferred them on me.'
   "To whom the saint said: 'In the morning we will go to the Church, and will learn from the copy (codex) of the Gospels there how the Lord taught His disciples.'
   "So rising in the morning, with a certain other named Peter, who also desired to become a brother, they went to the church of St. Nicholas close to the piazza of the city Assisi. And commencing to pray (because they were simple men and did not know where to find the Gospel text relating to the renouncing of the world) they asked the Lord devoutly, that He would deign to show them His will at the first opening of the Book.
   "When they had prayed, the blessed Francis taking in his hands the closed book, kneeling before the altar opened it, and his eye fell first upon this precept of the Lord: 'If thou wouldst be perfect, go, sell all that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven.' At which the blessed Francis was very glad and gave thanks to God. But because this true observer of the Trinity wished to be assured with threefold witness, he opened the Book for the second and third time. The second time he read, 'Carry nothing for the journey,' and the third time, 'Who wishes to come after me, let him deny himself.'
   "At each opening of the Book, the blessed Francis gave thanks to God for the divine confirmation of his purpose and long-conceived desire, and then said to Bernard and Peter: 'Brothers, this is our life and this is our rule, and the life and rule of all who shall wish to join our society. Go, then, and as you have heard, so do.'
   "Messer Bernard went away (he was very rich) and, having sold his possessions and got together much money, he distributed it to the poor of the town. Peter also complied with the divine admonition as best he could. They both assumed the habit which Francis had adopted, and from that hour lived with him after the model (formam) of the holy Gospel shown them by the Lord. Therefore the blessed Francis has said in his Testament: 'The Lord himself revealed to me that I should live according to the model (formam) of the holy Gospel.'"
​The words which met the eyes of Francis on first opening this Gospel-book, had nearly a thousand years before his time driven the holy Anthony to the desert of the Thebaid. Still one need not think the later tale a fruit of imitative legend. The accounts of Francis afford other instances of his literal acceptance of the Gospels.
After the step taken by Bernard and Peter, others quickly joined themselves to Francis, and in short time the small company took up its abode in an abandoned cabin at Rivo-torto, near Assisi. In a twelvemonth or more they removed to the little church of Santa Maria de Portiuncula (Saint Mary of the little portion). In the meanwhile Francis had been to Rome and gained papal authorization from the great Innocent III. for his lowly way of life. It would be hard to describe the joyfulness of these first Gospel days of the brethren: they come and go, and pray and labour; all are filled with joy; gaudium, jucunditas, laetabantur, such words crowd each other in accounts of the early days. Their love was complete; they would gladly give their bodies to pain or death not only for the love of Christ, but for the love of each other; they were founded and rooted in humility and love; Francis's own life was a song of joy, as he went singing (always gallice) and abounding in love and its joyful prayers and tears. What joy indeed could be ​greater than his; he had given himself to his Lord, and had been accepted. One day he had retired for contemplation, and as he prayed, "God be merciful to me a sinner," an ineffable joy and sweetness was shed in his heart. He began to fall away from himself; the anxieties and fears which a sense of sin had set in his heart were dispelled, and a certitude of the remission of his sins took possession of him. His mind dilated and a joyful vision made him seem another man when he returned and said in gladness to the brethren: "Be comforted, my best beloved, and rejoice in the Lord. Do not feel sad because you are so few. Let neither my simplicity nor yours abash you, for it has been shown me of the Lord that God will make of you a great multitude, and multiply you to the confines of the earth. I saw a great multitude of men coming to us, desiring to assume the habit and rule of our blessed religion; and the sound of them is in my ears as they come and go according to the command of holy obedience; and I saw the ways filled with them from every nation. Frenchmen come, and Spaniards hurry, Germans and English run, and a multitude speaking other tongues."
Thus far the life of Francis was a poem, even as it was to be unto the end; for, although the saint's plans might be thwarted by the wisdom and frailty of men, his words and actions did not cease to realize the exquisite conceptions of his soul. But the volume of his life, from this time on, becomes too large for us to follow, embracing as it does the far from simple history of the first decades of his Order. Our object is still to observe his personality, and his love of God and man and creature-kind.
Francis's mind was as simple as his heart was single. He had no distinctly intellectual interests, as nothing appealed to his mentality alone. In his consciousness, everything related itself to his way of life, its yearnings and aversions. Whatever was unsuited to enter into this catholic relationship repelled rather than interested him. Hence he was averse to studies which had nothing to do with the man's closer walk with God, and love of fellow. "My brothers who are led by the curiosity of knowledge will find ​their hands empty in the day of tribulation. I would wish them rather to be strengthened by virtues, that when the time of tribulation comes they may have the Lord with them in their straits—for such a time will come when they will throw their good-for-nothing books into holes and corners."
The moral temper of Francis was childlike in its simple truth. He could not endure in the smallest matter to seem other than as he was before God: "As much as a man is before God so much is he, and no more." Once in Lent he ate of cakes cooked in lard, because everything cooked in oil violently disagreed with him. When Lent was over, he thus began his first sermon to a concourse of people: "You have come to me with great devotion, believing me to be a holy man, but I confess to God and to you that in this Lent I have eaten cakes cooked in lard." At another time, when in severe sickness he had somewhat exceeded the pittance of food which he allowed himself, he rose, still shaking with fever, and went and preached to the people. When the sermon was over, he retired a moment, and having first exacted a promise of obedience from the monks accompanying him, he threw off his cloak, tied a rope around his waist, and commanded them to drag him naked before the people, and there cast ashes in his face; all which was done by the weeping monks. And then he confessed his fault to all.
Francis took joy in obedience and humility. One of his motives in resigning the headship of the Order was that he might have a superior to obey. However pained by the shortcomings and corruptions of the Church, he was always obedient and reverent. He had no thought of revolution, but the hope of purifying all. One day certain brothers said to him: "Father, do you not see that the bishops do not let us preach, and keep us for days standing idle, before we are able to declare the word of God? Would it not be better to obtain the privilege from the Pope, that there might be a salvation of souls?" ​"You, brothers Minorites," answered Francis, "know not the will of God, and do not permit me to convert the whole world, which is God's will; for I wish first through holy obedience and reverence to convert the prelates, who when they see our holy life and humble reverence for them, will beg you to preach and convert the people, and will call the people to hear you far better than your privileges, which draw you to pride. For me, I desire this privilege from the Lord that I may never have any privilege from man except to do reverence to all, and through obedience to our holy rule of life convert mankind more by example than by word."
And again he said to the brothers: "We are sent to aid the clergy in the salvation of souls, and what is found lacking in them should be supplied by us. Know, brothers, that the gain of souls is most pleasing to God, and this we may win better by peace with the clergy, than by discord. If they hinder the salvation of the people, vengeance is God's and He will repay in time. So be ye subject to the prelates and take heed on your part that no jealousy arise. If ye are sons of peace ye shall gain both clergy and people, and this will be more acceptable to God than to gain the people alone by scandalizing the clergy. Cover their slips, and supply their deficiencies; and when ye shall have done this be ye the more humble."
So Francis loved sancta obedientia as he called it. As a wise builder he set himself upon a rock, to wit, the perfect humility and poverty of the Son of God; and because of his own humility he called his company the Minorites (the "lesser" brethren). For himself, he deemed that he should most rejoice when men should revile him and cast him forth in shame, and not when they revered and honoured him.
Above all he loved his "lady poverty" and could not say enough to impress his followers with her high worth and beauty, and with the dignity and nobility of begging alms for the love of the Lord. As a high-born lady, poor and beautiful, he had seen her in a vision, in the midst of ​a desert, and worthy to be wooed by the King. In the early days when the brothers were a little band, Francis had gone about and begged for all. He loved them so that he dreaded to require what might shame them. But when the labour was too great for one man, so delicate and weak, he said to them: "Best beloved brothers and my children, do not be ashamed to go for alms, because the Lord made Himself poor for us in this world after whose example we have chosen the truest poverty. For this is our heritage, which our Lord Jesus Christ achieved and left to us and to all who, after His example, wish to live in holy poverty. I tell you of a truth that many wise and noble of this world shall join that congregation and hold it for an honour and a grace to go out for alms. Therefore boldly and with glad heart seek alms with God's blessing; and more freely and gladly should you seek alms than he who offers a hundred pieces of money for one coin, since to those from whom you ask alms you offer the love of God, saying, 'Do us an alms for the love of the Lord God,' in comparison with which heaven and earth are nothing."
With Francis all virtues were holy (sancta obedientia, sancta paupertas). Righteousness, goodness, piety, lay in imitating and obeying his Lord. What joy was there in loving Christ, and being loved by Him! and what an eternity of bliss awaited the Christian soul! To do right, to imitate Christ and obey and love Him, is a privilege. Can it be other than a joy? Indeed, this following of Christ is so blessed, that not to rejoice continually in it, betokens some failure in obedience and love. Many have approved this Christian logic; but to realize it in one's heart and manifest it in one's life, was the more singular grace of Francis of Assisi. His heart sang always unto the Lord; his love flowed out in gladness to his fellows; his enchanted spirit rejoiced in every creature. The gospel of this new evangelist awoke the hearts of men to love and joy. Nothing rejoiced him more than to see his sons rejoice in the Lord; and nothing was more certain to draw forth his tender reproof than a sad countenance.
   "Once while the blessed Francis was at the Portiuncula, a certain good beggar came along the way, returning from alms-begging in Assisi, and he went along praising God with a high voice and great jocundity. As he approached, Francis heard him, and ran out and met him in the way, and joyfully kissed his shoulder where he bore the wallet containing the gifts. Then he lifted the wallet, and set it on his own shoulder, and so carried it within, and said to the brothers: 'Thus I wish to have my brothers go and return with alms, joyful and glad and praising God.' "
   "Aside from prayer and the divine service, the blessed Francis was most zealous in preserving continually an inward and outward spiritual gladness. And this he especially cherished in the brothers, and would reprove them for sadness and depression. For he said that if the servant of God would study to preserve, inwardly and outwardly, the spiritual joy which rises from purity of heart, and is acquired through the devotion of prayer, the devils could not harm him, for they say: So long as the servant of God is joyful in tribulation and prosperity, we cannot enter into him or harm him. ... To our enemy and his members it pertains to be sad, but to us always to rejoice and be glad in the Lord."
Thus the glad temper of his young unconverted days passed into his saintly life, of which Christ was the primal source of rapture.
   "Drunken with the love and pity of Christ, the blessed Francis would sometimes do such acts, when the sweetest melody of spirit within him boiling outward gave sound in French, and the strain of the divine whisper which his ear had taken secretly, broke forth in a glad French song. He would pick up a stick and, holding it over his left arm, would with another stick in his right hand make as if drawing a bow across a violin (viellam), and with fitting gestures would sing in French of the Lord Jesus Christ. At last this dancing would end in tears, and the jubilee turn to pity for the Passion of Christ. And in that he would continue, drawing sighs and groans, as, oblivious to what he held in his hands, he was suspended from heaven."
Francis had been a lover from his youth; naturally and always he had loved his kind. But from the time when Christ held his heart and mind, his love of fellow-man was moulded by his thought and love of Christ. Henceforth the loving acts of Francis moving among his fellows become ​a loving following of Christ. He sees in every man the character and person of his Lord, soliciting his love, commanding what he should do. He never refused, or permitted his followers to refuse, what was asked in Christ's name; but it displeased him when he heard the brothers ask lightly for the love of God, and he would reprove them, saying: "So high and precious is God's love that it never should be invoked save with great reverence and under pressing need."
Such a man felt strong personal affection. Pure and wise was his love for Santa Clara; and a deep affection for one of his earliest and closest followers touches us in his letter to brother Leo. Not all of the writings ascribed to Francis breathe his spirit; but we hear his voice in this letter as it closes: "And if it is needful for thy soul or for thy consolation, and thou dost wish, my Leo, to come to me, come. Farewell in Christ."
Francis's love was unfailing in compassionate word and deed. Although cold and sick, he would give his cloak away at the first demand, till his own appointed minister-general commanded him on his obedience not to do so without permission; and he saw that the brothers did not injure themselves with fasting, though he took slight care of himself. On one occasion he had them all partake of a meal, in order that one delicate brother, who needed food, might not be put to shame eating while the rest fasted. And once, early in the morning, he led an old and feeble brother secretly to a certain vineyard, and there ate grapes before him, that he might not be ashamed to do likewise, for his health.
The effect of his sweet example melted the hearts of. angry men, reconciling such as had been wronged to those who had wronged them, and leading ruffians back to ways of gentleness. His conduct on learning of certain dissensions in Assisi illustrates his method of restoring peace and amity.
   "After the blessed Francis had composed the Lauds of the creatures, which he called the Canticle of Brother Sun, it happened ​that great dissension arose between the bishop and the podestà of the City of Assisi, so that the bishop excommunicated the podestà, and the podestà made proclamation that no person should sell anything to the bishop or buy from him or make any contract with him.
   "When the blessed Francis (who was now so very sick) heard this, he was greatly moved with pity, since no one interposed between them to make peace. And he said to his companions: 'It is a great shame for us servants of God that the bishop and the podestà hate each other so, and none interposes to make peace.'
   "And so for this occasion he at once made a verse in the Lauds above mentioned and said:
   'Praised be thou, O my Lord, for those who forgive from love of thee, And endure sickness and tribulation. Blessed are those who shall endure in peace, For by thee, Most High, shall they be crowned.'
   "Then he called one of his companions and said to him: 'Go to the podestà, and on my behalf tell him to come to the bishop's palace with the magnates of the city and others that he may bring with him.'
   "And as that brother went, he said to two other of his companions: 'Go before the bishop and podestà and the others who may be with them, and sing the Canticle of Brother Sun, and I trust in the Lord that He will straightway humble their hearts, and they will return to their former affection and friendship.'
   "When all were assembled in the piazza, of the episcopate, the two brothers arose, and one of them said: 'The blessed Francis in his sickness made a Lauds of the Lord from His creatures in praise of the Lord and for the edification of our neighbour. Wherefore he begs that you would listen to it with great devoutness.' And then they began to say and sing them.
   "At once the podestà rose, and with folded hands listened intently, as if it were the Lord's gospel; this he did with the greatest devoutness and with many tears, for he had great trust and devotion toward the blessed Francis.
   "When the Lauds of the Lord were finished, the podestà said before them all: 'Truly I say to you that not only my lord-bishop, whom I wish and ought to hold as my lord, but if any one had slain my brother or son I would forgive him.' And so saying, he threw himself at the bishop's feet, and said to him: 'Look, I am ready in all things to make satisfaction to you as shall please you, for the love of our Lord Jesus Christ and His servant the blessed Francis.'
   "The bishop accepting him, raised him with his hands and said: 'Because of my office it became me to be humble, and since I am ​naturally quick-tempered you ought to pardon me.' And so with great kindness and love they embraced and kissed each other.
   "The brothers were astounded and made glad when they saw fulfilled to the letter the concord predicted by the blessed Francis. And all others present ascribed it as a great miracle to the merits of the blessed Francis, that the Lord suddenly had visited them, and out of such dissension and scandal had brought such concord."
It would be mistaken to refer to any single pious sentiment, the saint's blithe love of animals and birds and flowers, and his regard even for senseless things. It is right, however, for Thomas of Celano, as a proper monkish biographer, to say:
   "While hastening through this world of pilgrimage and exile that traveller (Francis) rejoiced in those things which are in the world, and not a little. As toward the princes of darkness he used the world as a field for battle, but as toward the Lord he treated it as the brightest mirror of goodness; in the fabric he commended the Artificer, and what he found in created things, he referred to the Maker; he exulted over all the works of the hands of the Lord, and in the pleasing spectacle beheld the life-giving reason and the cause. In beautiful things he perceived that which was most beautiful, as all good things acclaim, He who made us is best. Through vestiges impressed on things he followed his chosen, and made of all a ladder by which to reach the throne. He embraced all things in a feeling of unheard of devotion, speaking to them concerning the Lord and exhorting them in His praise."
This was true, even if it was not all the truth. Living creatures spoke to Francis of their Maker, while things insensible aroused his reverence through their suggestiveness, their scriptural associations, or their symbolism. But beyond these motives there was in this poet Francis a happy love of nature. If nature always spoke to him of God, its loveliness needed no stimulation of devotion in order to be loved by him. His feeling for it found everywhere sensibility and responsiveness. He was as if possessed by an imaginative animism, wherein every object had a soul. His acts and words may appear fantastic; they never lack loveliness and beauty.
   "Wrapped in the love of God, the blessed Francis perfectly discerned the goodness of God not only in his own soul but in every creature. Wherefore he was affected with a singular and yearning (viscerosa) love toward creatures, and especially toward those in which was figured something of God or something pertaining to religion.
   "Whence above all birds he loved a little bird called the lark (the lodola capellata of the vulgar tongue) and would say of her: 'Sister lark has a hood like a Religious and is a humble bird, because she goes willingly along the road to find for herself some grains of corn. Even if she find them in dung she picks them out and eats them. In flying she praises the Lord very sweetly, as the good Religious look down upon earthly things, whose conversation is always in the heavens and whose intent is always upon the praise of God. Her garments are like earth, that is, her feathers, and set an example to the Religious that they should not have delicate and gaudy garments, but such as are vile in price and colour, as earth is viler than other elements.'"
The unquestionably true story of Francis preaching to the birds is known to all, especially to readers of the Fioretti. Thus Thomas of Celano tells it: As the blessed Father Francis was journeying through the Spoleto Valley, he reached a place near Mevanium, where there was a multitude of birds—doves, crows, and other kinds. When he saw them, for the love and sweet affection which he bore toward the lower creatures, he quickly ran to them, leaving his companions. As he came near and saw that they were waiting for him, he saluted them in his accustomed way. Then wondering that they did not take flight, he was very glad, and humbly begged them to listen to the word of God; among other things he said to them: "My brothers who fly, verily you should praise the Lord your Maker and love Him always, who gave you feathers to clothe you and wings to fly with and whatever was necessary to you. God made you noble among creatures, prepared your mansion in the purity of air; and though you neither sow nor reap, nevertheless without any solicitude on your part, He protects and guides you."
​At this, those little birds as he was speaking, marvellously exulting, began to stretch out their necks and spread their wings and open their beaks, looking at him. He passed through their midst, sweeping their heads and bodies with his mantle. At length he blessed them, and with the sign of the cross gave them leave to fly away. Then returning gladdened to his companions, he yet blamed himself for his neglect to preach to the birds before, since they so reverently heard the word of God. And from that day he ceased not to exhort all flying and creeping things, and even things insensible, to the praise and love of their Creator.
Thomas also says that above all animals Francis loved the lambs, because so frequently in Scripture the humility of our Lord is likened unto a lamb. One day, as Francis was making his way through the March of Ancona he met a goat-herd pasturing his flock of goats. Among them, humbly and quietly, a little lamb was feeding. Francis stopped as he saw it, and, deeply touched, said to the brother accompanying him: "Dost thou see this sheep walking so gently among the goats? I tell you, thus our Lord Jesus Christ used to walk mild and humble among Pharisees and chief priests. For love of Him, then, I beg thee, my son, to buy this little sheep with me and lead it out from among these goats."
The brother was also moved with pity. They had nothing with them save their wretched cloaks, but a merchant chancing to come along the way, the money was obtained from him. Giving thanks to God and leading the sheep they had bought, they reached the town of Osimo whither they were going; and entering the house of the bishop, were honourably received by him. Yet my lord bishop wondered at the sheep which Francis was leading with such tender love. But when Francis had set forth the parable of his sermon, the bishop too was touched and gave thanks to God.
The following day they considered what to do with the sheep, and it was given over to the nuns of the cloister of St. Severinus, who received it as a great boon given them ​from God. Long while they cared for it, and in the course of time wove a cloak from its wool, which they sent to the blessed Francis at the Portiuncula at the time of a Chapter meeting. The saint accepted it with joy, and kissed it, and begged all the brothers to be glad with him.
Celano also tells how Francis loved the grass and vines and stones and woods, and all comely things in the fields, also the streams, and earth and fire and air, and called every creature "brother"; also how he would not put out the flame of a lamp or candle, how he walked reverently upon stones, and was careful to injure no living thing.
​There are two documents which are both (the one with much reason and the other with certainty) ascribed to Francis. Utterly different as they are, each still remains a clear expression of his spirit. The one is the Lauds, commonly called the Canticle of the Brother Sun, and the other is the saint's last Testament. One may think of the Canticle as the closing stanza of a life which was an enacted poem:
Most High, omnipotent, good Lord, thine is the praise, the glory, the honour and every benediction; To thee alone, Most High, these do belong, and no man is worthy to name thee. Praised be thou, my Lord, with all thy creatures, especially milord Brother Sun that dawns and lightens us; And he, beautiful and radiant with great splendour, signifies thee, Most High. Be praised, my Lord, for Sister Moon and the stars that thou hast made bright and precious and beautiful. Be praised, my Lord, for Brother Wind, and for the air and cloud and the clear sky and for all weathers through which thou givest sustenance to thy creatures. Be praised, my Lord, for Sister Water, that is very useful and humble and precious and chaste. Be praised, my Lord, for Brother Fire, through whom thou dost illumine the night, and comely is he and glad and bold and strong. Be praised, my Lord, for Sister, Our Mother Earth, that doth ​cherish and keep us, and produces various fruits with coloured flowers and the grass. Be praised, my Lord, for those who forgive for love of thee, and endure sickness and tribulation; blessed are they who endure in peace; for by thee, Most High, shall they be crowned. Be praised, my Lord, for our bodily death, from which no living man can escape; woe unto those who die in mortal sin. Blessed are they that have found thy most holy will, for the second death shall do them no hurt.
The self-expression of the more personal parts of the Testament supplement these utterances:
   "Thus the Lord gave to me, Brother Francis, to begin to do penance: because while I was in sins, it seemed too bitter to me to see lepers; and the Lord himself led me among them, and I did mercy with them. And departing from them, that which seemed to me bitter, was turned for me into sweetness of soul and body. And a little afterwards I went out of the world.
   "And the Lord gave me such faith in churches, that thus simply I should pray and say: 'We adore thee, Lord Jesus Christ, and in all thy churches which are in the whole world, and we bless thee, because through thy holy cross thou hast redeemed the world.'
   "Afterwards the Lord gave and gives me so great faith in priests who live after the model of the holy Roman Church according to their order, that if they should persecute me I will still turn to them. And if I should have as great wisdom as Solomon had, and should have found the lowliest secular priests in the parishes where they dwell, I do not wish to preach contrary to their wish. And them and all others I wish to fear and honour as my lords; and I do not wish to consider sin in them, because I see the Son of God in them and they are my lords.
   "And the reason I do this is because corporeally I see nothing in this world of that most high Son of God except His most holy body and most holy blood, which they receive and which they alone administer. And I wish these most holy mysteries to be honoured above all and revered, and to be placed together in precious places. Wherever I shall find His most holy names and His written words in unfit places, I wish to collect them, and I ask that they be collected and placed in a proper place; and all theologians and those who administer the most holy divine words, we ought to honour and venerate, as those who administer to us spirit and life.
   "And after the Lord gave me brothers, no one showed me what I ought to do, but the Most High himself revealed to me that I ought to live according to the model of the holy Gospel. And I in a few words and simply had this written, and the lord Pope confirmed it to me. And they who were coming to receive life, all that they were able to have they gave to the poor; and they were content with one patched cloak, with the cord and breeches; and we did not wish to have more. We who were of the clergy said our office as other clergy; the lay members said 'Our Father.' And willingly we remained in churches; and we were simple (idiotae) and subject to all. And I laboured with my hands, and I wish to labour; and I wish all other brothers to labour. Who do not know how, let them learn, not from the cupidity of receiving the price of labour, but on account of the example, and to repel slothfulness. And when the price of labour is not given to us, we resort to the table of the Lord by seeking alms from door to door.
   "The Lord revealed to me a salutation that we should say: The Lord give thee peace."
   Francis's precepts for the brothers follow here. The last paragraph of the Will is: "And whoever shall have observed these principles, in heaven may he be filled with the benediction of the most high Father, and on earth may he be filled with the benediction of His beloved Son, with the most holy spirit Paraclete, and with all the virtues of the heavens and with everything holy. And I, Brother Francis, your very little servant, so far as I am able, confirm to you within and without that most holy benediction."
* ↑ The present chapter is intended as an appreciation of the personality of Francis; incidents of his life are used for illustration. I have endeavored to confine myself to such as are generally accepted as authentic, and to those parts of the sources which are confirmed by corroborative testimony. The reader doubtless is aware that the sources of Franciscan history are abundant, but that there is still much critical and even polemic controversy touching their trust-worthiness. Of the Speculum perfectionis, edited by Sabatier, I would make this remark: many of its narratives contain such wisdom and human truth as seem to me to bring them very close to the acts and words of some great personality, i.e. Francis. This is no sure proof of their authenticity, and yet is a fair reason for following their form of statement of some of the incidents in Francis's life, the human value of which perhaps appears narrowed and deflected in other accounts. The chief sources for the life of St. Francis of Assisi are first his own compositions, edited conveniently under the title of Opuscula sancti patris Francisci Assisiensis, by the Franciscans of Quarrachi (1904). They have been translated by P. Robinson (Philadelphia, The Dolphin Press, 1906). Next in certainty of authenticity come the two Lives by Celano, i.e. Vita prima S. Francisci Assisiensis, auctore B. Thoma de Celano, ejus discipulo, Bollandi Acta sanctorum, tome 46 (Oct. tome 2), pp. 683–723; also edited by Canon Amoni (Rome, 1880); Vita secunda seu appendix ad Vitam primam, ed. by Amoni (Rome, 1880). Better editions than Amoni's are those of Edouard d'Alençon (Rome, 1906), and H. G. Rosedale (Dent, London, 1904). Of great importance also is the Legenda trium sociorum (Leo, Rufinus, Angelus), Bollandi Acta sanctorum, t. 46 (Oct. t. 2), pp. 723–742; also ed. by Amoni (Rome, 1880). (Amoni's texts differ somewhat from those of the Bollandist.) It is also edited by Pulignani (Foligno, 1898), and edited and hypothetically completed from the problematical Italian version, by Marcellino da Civezza and Teofilo Domenichelli (Rome, 1899). Perhaps most vivid of all the early sources is the so-called Speculum perfectionis seu S. Francisci Assisiensis legenda antiquissima auctore fratre Leone, as edited by Paul Sabatier (Paris, 1898). It has been translated into English several times. Its date and authenticity are still under violent discussion. One may conveniently refer to the article "Franciscan Literature" in the Edinburgh Review for January 1904, and to P. Robinson's Short Introduction to Franciscan Literature (New York, 1907) for further references, which the student must supplement for himself from the mass of recent literature in books and periodicals touching the life of Francis and its sources. See also Fierens, La Question franciscaine, etc. (Louvain, 1909). Among modern Lives, that of Sabatier is probably known to all readers of this note. The Lives by Bonghi and Le Monnier may be referred to. Gebhard's Italie mystique is interesting in connection with Francis.
* ↑ Consciousness of direct authority from God speaks in the saint's unquestionably authentic Testament: "And after the Lord gave me some brothers, no one showed me what I ought to do, but the Most High himself revealed to me that I ought to live according to the model of the holy Gospel." It is also rendered with picturesque vehemence in a scene (Speculum perfectionis, ed. Sabatier, ch. 68) which may or may not be authentic. At a general meeting of the Order, certain wise brethren had persuaded the Cardinal-Bishop of Ostia to advise Francis to follow their counsel, and had adduced certain examples from the monastic rule of Benedict and others. "When the Cardinal had related these matters to the blessed Francis, in the way of admonition, the blessed Francis answered nothing, but took him by the hand and led him before the assembled brothers, and spoke to the brothers in the fervour and power of the Holy Spirit, thus: 'My brothers, my brothers, the Lord called me in the way of simplicity and humility, and showed me in truth this way for myself and for those who wish to believe and imitate me. And therefore I desire that you will not name any rule to me, neither the rule of St. Benedict, nor that of St. Augustine or St. Bernard, or any other rule or model of living except that which was mercifully shown and given me by the Lord. And the Lord said that He wished me to be a new covenant (pactum) in the world, and did not wish us to live by any other way save by that knowledge.'"
* ↑ These songs (none of which survive) were apparently in the langue d'oïl and not in the langue d'oc. The phrases used by the biographers are lingua francigena (1 Cel. i. 7) and lingua gallica (III. Soc. iii.) or gallice cantabat (Spec. perf. vii. 93).
* ↑ In fact this is vouched for in III. Soc. i.
* ↑ St. Martin of Tours had done the same.
* ↑ III. Soc. v. par. 13, 14.
* ↑ III. Soc. vi. par. 20.
* ↑ "Sancta paupertas," "domina paupertas" are the phrases. The first is used by St. Bernard.
* ↑ III. Soc. viii.; 1 Cel. ix.
* ↑ III. Soc. viii.; see 1 Cel. x. and 2 Cel. x.
* ↑ Spec. per. 3, 9, 19, 122. How truly he also felt their spirit is seen in the story of his words, at a somewhat later period, to a certain Dominican: "While he was staying at Siena, a certain doctor of theology, of the order of the Preachers, himself an humble and spiritual man, came to him. When they had spoken for a while about the words of the Lord, this master interrogated him concerning this text of Ezekiel: 'If thou dost not declare to the wicked man his wickedness, I will require his soul of thy hand' (Ezek. iii. 18). And he added: 'I know many indeed, good father, in mortal sin, to whom I do not declare their wickedness. Will their souls be required at my hand?' "To whom the blessed Francis humbly said that it was fitting that an ignorant person like himself should be taught by him rather than give answer upon the meaning of Scripture. Then that humble master replied: 'Brother, albeit I have heard the exposition of this text from a number of the wise, still would I willingly make note of your understanding of it.' "So the blessed Francis said: 'If the text is to be understood generally, I take it to mean that the servant of God ought by his life and holiness so to burn and shine in himself, that the light of his example and the tenor of his holy conversation would reprove all wicked men. Thus I say will his splendour and the odour of his reputation declare their iniquities to all,' " Spec. perf. 53; also 2 Cel. iii. 46.
* ↑ As to the acquisition of the Portiuncula see Spec. perf. 55, and on Francis's love of it see Spec. perf. 82-84, 124.
* ↑ 1 Cel. xi.
* ↑ This seems to be true of Francis's great Exemplar.
* ↑ Spec. perf. 69; 2 Cel. iii. 124; III. Soc. 25.
* ↑ Francisci admonitiones, xx.
* ↑ Spec. perf. 62; 2 Cel. iii. 71.
* ↑ Spec. perf. 61; see 1 Cel. 19.
* ↑ 2 Cel. iii. 81; Spec. perf. 39.
* ↑ Spec. perf. 50.
* ↑ Spec. perf. 54; 2 Cel. iii. 84.
* ↑ Spec. perf. 44.
* ↑ Spec. perf. 64; III. Soc. 39; 2 Cel. iii. 83; cf. Admon, iii.
* ↑ Cf. Spec. perf. 22 and 23; 2 Cel. iii. 23.
* ↑ III. Soc. xii. 50, 51.
* ↑ Spec. perf. 18; cf. 2 Cel. iii. 20.
* ↑ Spec. perf. 25; 2 Cel. iii. 22.
* ↑ Spec. perf. 95; 2 Cel. iii. 65. But Francis condemned all vain and foolish words which move to laughter (Admon. xxi.; Spec. perf. 96).
* ↑ Spec. perf. 93; 2 Cel. iii. 67.
* ↑ Spec. perf. 34.
* ↑ Cf. Spec. perf. 108; 2 Cel. 132.
* ↑ Spec. perf. 27, 28, 33; cf. 2 Cel. i. 15; ibid. iii. 30 and 36.
* ↑ Spec. perf. 101. This is one of the apparently unsupported stories of the Speculum, that none would like to doubt.
* ↑ 2 Cel. iii. cap. 101.
* ↑ One is tempted to amuse oneself with paradox, and say: Not he of Vaucluse, who ascended a mountain for the view and left a record of his sentiments, but he of Assisi, who loved the sheep, the birds, the flowers, the stones, and fire and water, was "the first modern man." But such statements are foolish; there was no "first modern man."
* ↑ Spec. perf. 113.
* ↑ 1 Cel xxi. 58.
* ↑ 1 Cel. cap. xxviii.
* ↑ 1 Cel. cap. xxix.
* ↑ 2 Cel. iii. 101. These matters are set forth more picturesquely in the Speculum perfectionis; if authentic, they throw a vivid light on this wonderful person. Here are examples: "Francis had come to the hermitage of Fonte Palumbo, near Riete, to cure the infirmity of his eyes, as he was ordered on his obedience by the lord-cardinal of Ostia and by Brother Elias, minister-general. There the doctor advised a cautery over the cheek as far as the eyebrow of the eye that was in worse state. Francis wished to wait till brother Elias came, but when he was kept from coming Francis prepared himself. And when the iron was set in the fire to heat it, Francis, wishing to comfort his spirit, lest he be afraid, spoke to the fire: 'My Brother Fire, noble and useful among other creatures, be courteous to me in this hour, since I have loved and will love thee for the love of Him who made thee. I also beseech our Creator, who made us both, that He may temper thy heat so that I may bear it.' And when his prayer was finished he made the sign of the cross over the fire. "We indeed who were with him then fled for pity and compassion, and the doctor remained alone with him. When the cautery was finished, we returned, and he said to us: 'Fearful and of little faith, why did you flee? I tell you truly I felt no pain, nor any heat of the fire. If it is not well seared he may sear it better.' "The astonished doctor assured them all that the cautery was so severe that a strong man, let alone one so weak, could hardly have endured it, while Francis showed no sign of pain" (Spec. perf. 115). "Thus fire treated Francis courteously; for he had never failed to treat it reverently and respect its rights. Once his clothes caught fire, and he would not put it out, and forbade a brother, saying: 'Nay, dearest brother, do no harm to the fire.' He would never put out fire, and did not wish any brother to throw away a fire or push a smoking log away, but wished that it should be just set on the ground, out of reverence to Him whose creature it is" (ibid. 116). "Next to fire he had a peculiar love for water, wherein is figured holy penitence and the tribulation with which the soul's uncleanness is washed away, and because the first washing of the soul is through the water of baptism. So when he washed his hands he would choose a place where the water which fell would not be trodden on. Also when he walked over rocks, he walked with trembling and reverence for the love of Him who is called the 'Rock'; and whenever he repeated that psalm, 'Thou hast exalted me upon a rock,' he would say with great reverence and devotion: 'Under the foot of the rock thou hast exalted me.' "He directed the brother who cut and fetched the fire-wood never to cut a whole tree, so that some part of it might remain untouched for the love of Him who was willing to work out our salvation upon the wood of the cross. "Likewise he told the brother who made the garden, not to devote all of it to vegetables, but to have some part for flowering plants, which in their seasons produce Brother Flowers for love of Him who is called the 'Flower of the field and the Lily of the valley.' He said indeed that Brother Gardener always ought to make a beautiful patch in some part of the garden, and plant it with all sorts of sweet-smelling herbs and herbs that produce beautiful flowers, so that in their season they may invite men seeing them to praise the Lord. For every creature cries aloud, 'God made me for thy sake, O man.' We that were with him saw that inwardly and outwardly he did so greatly rejoice in all created things, that touching or seeing them his spirit seemed not to be upon the earth, but in heaven" (ibid. 113). "Above all things lacking reason he loved the sun and fire most affectionately, for he would say: 'In the morning when the sun rises every man ought to praise God who created it for our use, because by day our eyes are illumined by it; in the evening, when night comes, every man ought to give praise on account of Brother Fire, because by it our eyes are illumined by night. For all of us are blind, and the Lord through those two brothers lightens our eyes; and therefore for these, and for other creatures which we daily use, we ought to praise the Creator.' Which indeed he did himself up to the day of his death" (ibid. 119).
* ↑ Translated from the text as given in E. Monaci's Crestomasia italiana dei primi secoli. Substantially the same text is given in Spec. perf. 120.