Brother Francis Part 7

To the very last hour of his life, Francis was true to his first principles. Never for one moment did he wander out of the narrow path in which G.o.d had set his feet at the beginning of his career as a leader and teacher of men. As literally as it was possible he modelled his life on that of our Lord Jesus Christ. One of the most noted Atheist writers of the present century says that in no age has there been so close a copy of the life of Christ as that portrayed by Francis and his followers.

[Sidenote: _Alms._]

The most well-known of all the Franciscan characteristics is their poverty. Though at times they asked alms for Christ's sake from their neighbours, that was not the ideal Francis had before him as their regular mode of life. It was that all should work with their hands at whatever they could best do, and in return receive an equivalent for their labour in food or clothes. "All the brothers who have learnt a trade," Francis said, "will exercise it, those who have not must learn one, and keep to the exercise of it without changing. All will receive everything necessary for the support of life, except money, in remuneration of their work." "When the brothers are in want of the necessaries of life, they shall go and ask for alms like any other poor man," was another of his directions. This was a great trial to some who would have gladly learned the most menial of trades. But there were times when there was no demand for labor, and there was nothing for it but to beg or starve. This latter Francis would not allow, and, repugnant though the former might be, it had to be done.

Not that he ever forced anyone. He began by doing this ignominious duty himself, saying as he did so--

"My beloved brethren, the Son of G.o.d was far more n.o.ble than the n.o.blest of us, and yet He became poor upon earth. It is for love of Him that we have embraced poverty, therefore, we must not be ashamed to resort to the table of our Lord (thus he always spoke of alms).

Rejoice then to give good examples to those brethren whose firstfruits ye are, that they in future may have nothing to do but follow you."

[Sidenote: _Holy Poverty._]

But there were other reasons why Francis was so devoted to poverty.

In all his doings he is remarkable for clear common-sense. Money and possessions of any kind were in those days a fruitful source of dispute and quarrels of all kinds; therefore, as Francis reasoned, it were better that the Knights of Christ should possess nothing. Then again in the priesthood, though the individuals themselves possessed nothing, yet large sums of money and great possessions had been ama.s.sed by convent and monastery, until, at the period of which we are writing, the luxury and gluttony of priest and monk was a favourite joke, and the splendour of their buildings well-known. As to buildings, Francis would very much have preferred to have none. Since this was impossible, he had everything built at the least possible expense. Just rough beams put together, and the joinings filled with sand. Even then this uncouth ma.s.s had to be property of someone outside the community!

"Only on this condition," Francis said, "can we be considered as strangers here below in accordance with the apostolic recommendation."

Certainly, no one could accuse them of luxury. The furniture of the houses was of the poorest. Beds, often of straw, cups and plates of wood or clay, a few rough tables, and a small number of books in common to the brothers, were all the rooms contained. Carefully and jealously did Francis guard against the first appearance of relaxation on the part of himself or his followers. He would have thought G.o.d's commands to him broken if any new-comer found in his community anything that he had given up upon leaving the world.

As to clothing, we have already seen what were Francis' views in this respect. The rough robe of "beast color," tied in with a knotted rope, is still to be seen to-day in many parts of the world. But Francis very well knew that a certain kind of vanity can easily lurk in even the coa.r.s.est of garments. He was, therefore, constantly on the watch, and was always severe if he saw the least deviation from the rule. "It is an infallible sign," he always said, "that fervour is cooling in the soul." He never allowed his disciples to have more than two tunics.

"It may be that one suffers a little," he said, "but what sort of virtue is that that cannot suffer anything! To try and avoid all mortifications under plea of necessity is a cowardly way of losing occasions of merit. It is what the Hebrews would have done had they gone back to Egypt."

[Sidenote: _Fatherly Care._]

It was more by personal example than anything else that Francis led his followers in the Divine steps that he was so confident had been also marked out for him. And his people believed in him and loved him.

They were convinced that through him spoke the Divine voice, and that his way was G.o.d's way. And he was worthy of their belief and their love and their esteem. He loved them with a devoted, generous love. By his entire forgetfulness of self and his constant devotion to their needs, he was theirs, always to "serve." Many stories are told of his gentle, delicate kindliness and fatherly care. Once, one of his flock had gone a little too far in depriving himself of natural food. That night, in the silence, came a voice from his room which groaned softly, "I am starving, I am starving of hunger!" Francis, who was awake, rose quietly, and, getting together some food, went to the starving brother and invited him to eat with him, so as not to hurt his feelings or let it appear that he had been overheard. After he had eaten, he explained to him the evil of not giving the body what was necessary for it.

Another brother, who was ill, had a great longing for grapes, but feared to indulge himself in case he should be breaking his vows.

Francis found out, some way or other, how he felt, and, going to him, led him out into a vineyard, and, gathering some rich cl.u.s.ters, seated himself on the ground, and, beginning to eat, invited his companion to join him. If any were weak and ailing, it was always Francis who was first to take a vessel and go out and beg for more nouris.h.i.+ng food for his ailing comrades. A mother could not have been more tender than he was.

In a very great measure Francis possessed the discernment of spirits.

He seemed to know intuitively what people were thinking about. One day, during the last years of his life, when he had been obliged through bodily weakness to ride on an a.s.s, he surprised the brother who was trudging alongside him, by getting off and saying--

[Sidenote: _Francis' Tact._]

"Here, brother, get on, it is more fitting that you, who are of n.o.ble birth, should ride, rather than I, who am of humble origin."

The brother immediately fell on his knees and, asking forgiveness, confessed that he had been grumbling to himself that he, whose family would never have had anything to do with that of Pietro Bernardone's, had been obliged to follow the a.s.s of Francis Bernardone!

Another brother was greatly troubled because he thought Francis did not love him. He told himself that Francis hardly ever noticed or spoke to him, and then he began to argue that probably G.o.d, too, paid no attention to him. He determined to see his leader about it. As soon as ever he appeared before Francis, and before he could get out a word, Francis said--

"It is a temptation, my brother, believe me, it is a temptation. I have the truest affection for you, and you deserve this affection.

Come to me whenever you want, and we will talk things over."

One can easily imagine the joy of the once forlorn brother!

Not only could Francis move the crowds and hold them spell-bound with his fiery words, but he had also the power to reach and touch men's hearts in private. He was always accessible to that individual, be he saint or sinner, who was in need. In times of darkness and depression, he was the support of the brothers. He knew well the stages that a soul pa.s.ses through after it has taken the final step of separateness from the world. In critical moments he was theirs to soothe and comfort with prayer and advice. It was not only the faltering saint that he lavished his tenderness upon; he was just as careful of the faulty and ungrateful, and nothing could exceed the love with which he strove to lure them back when he saw they were inclined to go ever so little astray. "A superior," he used to say, "is more of a tyrant than a father if he waits to interfere until a fault has been committed or a fall has occurred!"

[Sidenote: _No Alternative._]

However, in spite of his tenderness, Francis could be iron strong when there was any question of right and wrong. Those who were not of his mind were obliged to get out from among the brothers. There was no alternative, no easier way made for anyone. "Little Brothers" or "Friars Minor" they called themselves, a name which then meant "servant of all" or "least of all," and woe betide anyone who departed from the spirit of this name!

CHAPTER IX.

ESTABLISHMENT OF THE ORDER.

"Would you know, oh world, these Warriors; Go where the poor, the old, Ask for pardon and for heaven, and you offer food and gold; With healing and with comfort, with words of peace and prayer, Bearing His greatest gift to men--Christ's chosen priests are there."

It was not long before the little hut by the Riva Torto was full to overflowing. The number of brethren had increased so, that there was only just s.p.a.ce for them to lie down at night, each under the beam upon which his name had been chalked. It was a poor abode enough, but poor though it was, they were not destined to have its shelter long.

One day when they were all engaged in prayer, a peasant noisily threw open the door, and driving his a.s.s right on top of the kneeling occupants cried--

"Go in, go in, Bruno, we shall be better off here."

There was nothing to do but get out. The hut was not theirs, and neither was there room for an extra man and a beast! They next betook themselves to the Portiuncula, where they built themselves huts or cells. The Portiuncula was the last church that Francis restored, and one always especially dear to him. A little later it was given to the friars for their own use.

From the Portiuncula the brothers travelled all round the country-side, two by two, in true apostolic fas.h.i.+on. Some followed the peasants into the fields, and as they shared their labors, sang and talked of the love of Christ. For days, perhaps, they would live and eat and sleep with the field hands, and then pa.s.s, always singing, on their way, leaving hearts that had been touched, behind them. Others sought the lazar-house, and spent their time in helping the brothers tend the sick. They were always welcome here, and very often difficult cases were reserved for their care. In the towns they met with a very different reception. There they were considered "fair game" for anybody who wished to tease or persecute or mock them. Some people called them mad and lazy, others who believed in their good intent said that if they wanted to be religious, there were plenty of Orders they could join which would not be so austere. Even the Bishop of a.s.sisi, who always called Francis his son, said to him once,

"Your way of living, without owning anything, seems to me very harsh and difficult."

[Sidenote: _On the Right Lines._]

Francis, sure that he was on the right lines, replied,

"If we possessed property we should have need of arms for its defence, for it is the source of quarrels and lawsuits, and the love of G.o.d and one's neighbor usually finds many obstacles therein! This is why we do not desire temporal goods."

As the months went on, Francis and his doings attracted more and more attention. They were the talk of the country. The families of those brothers who had given away their possessions could not forgive them for so doing, and attacks from these quarters were bitter and severe.

Disappointed heirs could find nothing too evil to say against the foolishness and madness of their friar relatives. From this point of view, many families found the brotherhood very alarming, and parents trembled when their sons took any interest in it, lest they too should join it. The clergy naturally felt somewhat distrustful of the doings of these strange lay-workers. So, taking it altogether, whether he liked it or not, Francis was the most talked of man in a.s.sisi. The more people flocked to him and got converted, the more his enemies slandered him.

It was this state of things that led him to take his entire force--numbering twelve--to Rome, and there beg the Pope to sanction their mode of work. It was a bold undertaking, and when it was first presented to the twelve they shrank back in horror at the presumption of such a thing! But Francis had made up his mind and nothing could move him.

How was he, Francis, young, without any interest, and a stranger to all churchly usages, to get to see the Pope? the brethren asked him.

Francis didn't know. Probably he cared less. Anyway, G.o.d had told him to go.

Then the brethren pleaded their simplicity. How they should look--travel-stained, bare-footed, and coa.r.s.e-robed, at the court of Rome! This argument carried no weight whatever with their leader, and his faith prevailing, they set out. Just as they were about to start, Francis said "Let us choose one of us to be our Chief. We will go whither he wills to go, we will sojourn where he wills us to sojourn."

The rest agreeing, Bernardo di Quintavelle was chosen as leader.

[Sidenote: _Bishop Guido._]

As soon as they arrived in Rome they discovered that unexpected help was right at hand. Guido, the good Bishop of a.s.sisi, was in the city, and he met them accidentally just as they arrived. He was a little discomposed at first--seeing the entire brotherhood he immediately jumped to the conclusion that they were about to settle in Rome.

However, Francis soon told him the object of their journey, and he promised to do the very best he could for them. Guido had a friend in Rome, Cardinal John, of Sabina. This man was G.o.dly and devoted, one who had never been carried away by the grandeur of his position, and he was always a friend of anybody who tried to work for G.o.d. Guido had already told him the story of Francis, and said that it was his belief that G.o.d meant to do great things through that simple man and his followers. Now that they had turned up so unexpectedly, he hastened to introduce them to John and let him judge them for himself. The Cardinal saw them, and talked to them, and was convinced in his own mind that they were divinely led. Still, he thought he would like to try Francis a little further. Taking him to one side, he asked him a number of questions about his work and its difficulties.

"It is beyond your strength," he said, when he had heard him, and went on to advise him to join some already existing Order, or else, if he liked, lead the life of a hermit. Francis listened politely, but still kept to his purpose.

"You are mistaken," persisted the Cardinal. "It is much better to follow the beaten tracks."