Clara was always a true Franciscan. All through her life which was a long one, she kept faithful to the principles of the Order, and never would she yield to any dispensation that deviated from the narrow path that Francis trod. When offered certain properties by a Church dignitary, on the plea that the state of the times made it impossible for women to possess nothing, she gazed upon him with speechless astonishment.

[Sidenote: _"I want no Release."_]

"If it is your vows that prevent you," the worthy man went on, "you will be released from them."

"No," she cried, "I want no release from following Christ."

She was a staunch defender of Francis. She also defended him from himself! Many a time in hours of dark discouragement, when he was sorely tempted to fly away, and shut himself up to a life of prayer and contemplation, she pointed out to him the sheep who, without a shepherd, were wandering to their own destruction, and drew him back again into his G.o.d-marked path. Her teaching, and her mode of caring for her sisters was very similar to that of Francis with his disciples.

CHAPTER XI.

THE FIRST CHAPTER.

"No rushing sound we heard, We saw no fiery token, Only our hearts were stirred, For G.o.d had spoken."

The temptation to seek a life of quiet and retirement followed Francis all his days. Invariably, after any new departure or special victory he was attacked in that quarter. Why he should have been so troubled when his call to follow Christ was so clear, we are not qualified to say definitely. In all probability this temptation of his was akin to Paul's "messenger of Satan" and thorn in the flesh that buffeted him, lest he should be unduly exalted. The most interesting point to us nineteenth-century Christians is, that by the grace of G.o.d Francis never yielded to this temptation--that having once put his hand the plough, he never turned back, but remained faithful to the end.

We must take into consideration that the Order of which Francis was the founder was in itself unique. It stood alone in the annals of Church history. It was a novelty in the Church. All other existing orders followed a totally different line of action, or rather inaction. Their disciples were shut up in solitude, and devoted themselves to their own sanctification. When they worked for sinners it was by praying for them, by example, and by a little preaching.

They never came face to face with the outside world. Their lives were remote, apart. These facts may have had something to do with Francis'

periods of darkness and indecision. A pioneer's life has its own peculiar temptations.

[Sidenote: _Darkness._]

Perhaps the worst season of darkness that Francis had was after the establishment of the second Order. An internal agony seized him. Was he, he asked himself, not trying to do something superhuman in uniting a contemplative with an active life. So often he had been told by people much wiser and cleverer than himself that the life he had marked out was humanly impossible! He wrestled and prayed, but nothing could dissipate the heavy blackness that spread itself over his pathway. He determined to appeal to his brethren and follow their advice. His appeal for help gives us a striking instance of how subtly Satan can take the form of an Angel of Light.

"My brethren what do you advise me?" he asked. "Which do you consider best--that I should attend to prayer, or that I should go and preach?

I am a simple man, that speaks without art. I have received the gift of prayer more than of speaking. Besides, there is more profit in prayer. It is the source of grace. In preaching, we only distribute to others the gifts we have received. Prayer purifies the heart and affections. It is the union with the one true and solid Good.

Preaching makes the feet of even the spiritual man dusty. It is a work that distracts and dissipates, and leads to relaxation of discipline.

In short, in prayer we speak to G.o.d, and listen to Him. In preaching we must use much condescension towards men, and living among them it is often necessary to see, hear, think, and speak like them in too human fashion. These are very serious objections. And yet there is a reason that seems to give it most weight with G.o.d. It is that His only Son left the bosom of the Father to save souls, and to instruct men by His example and word. He gave all He had for our salvation. He kept nothing for Himself. Therefore it seems to me more in conformity with the Divine Will that I renounce a tranquil life and that I go to work abroad. But what is your advice? Speak! What do you think I ought to do?"

The respective merits of the question had been so equally weighed that it is not surprising that the brethren, one and all, declared themselves unable to give any advice. For several days they conferred, but no clear light shone upon their conferences. It was an important matter to decide, because the whole future conduct of the Order hung upon the decision. As Francis would walk, so also would tread his disciples. This fact, together with the general uncertainty, pressed heavily upon his soul. One of the most spiritual of Francis'

historians says that G.o.d permitted him to pa.s.s through this darkness, because He wanted His servant whom He had already made a prophet, to learn by a striking example, that no inspiration comes to us from ourselves. And more than this. He wished the merit and glory of preaching to be consecrated by a species of oracle that could only be attributed to Him.

[Sidenote: _How the Answer Came._]

This is how the answer came.

Francis, always little in his own eyes, was never ashamed of inquiring of anyone, the simple as well as the learned, the imperfect as well as the perfect, if he thought that by so doing he would be the better able to extend the Kingdom. In the present instance, getting no light from the brethren, he sent a message to Brother Sylvester, who was now a very old man, and lived by himself on a mountain, and another to Clara, asking them to pray that G.o.d would reveal to them his will. The old priest, and the young girl and her companions, gave themselves up to prayer, and G.o.d who declares that He will be inquired of, revealed to them His will.

When the messages came, as they did together, Francis was on his knees praying. Both messengers carried the same message. It was G.o.d's will, they said, that he should leave his solitude, and preach the Gospel.

Immediately, without losing a moment, Francis got up, put on his mantle, and set of. All his doubt had vanished at once.

"Let us go, my brethren," he said. "Let us go in the name of the Lord!"

It seemed as if he were possessed by a new spirit. Never had he been so fervent. Never had his ardor been so intense. To all that he did G.o.d set His seal in a truly marvellous manner! The inhabitants of the various villages flocked to hear him, and they almost stood upon one another to find places in the churches and cathedrals. In those days the cathedrals and great churches were not seated. The people stood all the time. The men to the front, and the women very often far behind. When there was a large crowd, the crush was fearful.

In Ascoli some thirty men from the Church joined the Minors, and were given the habit. After this event, Francis could not show himself in the street without being surrounded by a crowd. When once he came into a town the population had no thought for anyone but him. The churches were filled as soon as ever it was known he was going to speak. Even in the streets they eagerly gathered up his words. Thus it was everywhere he went through Central Italy. His name was in everyone's mouth.

[Sidenote: _A Great Tree._]

It was some time now since the building at the Portiuncula had become far too small to accommodate all who wished to join the Friars. There had been nothing for it but to overflow into the neighbouring provinces. It is a matter of some regret that but little of the history of this extension has been preserved. We shall see how Bernardo of Quintavelle, and Guido of Cortona, established branches of the Order, and no doubt the story of other new ventures would have been equally interesting, but all that history has handed down to us is a list of names. The tiny seed that Francis had sown in weakness was rapidly becoming a great tree. Though this progress was gratifying to him, it also caused him some suffering. By nature he was intensely affectionate, and when one by one he had to send out from him his old companions to take charge of distant branches, his heart was sad indeed.

One day while he was thinking, as he often did, about his absent friends, the thought occurred to him that something might be done to alleviate this separation. Something, too, that would benefit the entire Order. Twice a year it was arranged that all the brethren, new and old, should meet at the Portiuncula. This idea proved to be so good that it became one of the fundamental rules of the Order.

[Sidenote: _A Curious Scene._]

The first of these "Chapters," as they were called, was held after Francis had completed his tour in Central Italy. The brethren came from far and near. They came pouring in from all quarters, up from the valleys, and down from the mountains, and from the shining sea-coast, streams of brown-robed, bare-footed men of all cla.s.ses and conditions of life. And what were they coming to? A little church and convent as poor as themselves, where there were not even provisions enough on hand to supply one-hundredth part of the hundreds that were flocking there with one meal! But in perfect faith and trust they came, plodding along under the blazing sun, some rapt in meditation, others saluting all they met with their gentle salutation, "the peace of G.o.d."

Such a sight was never seen in Italy before, and from castle and city poured glittering vividly-colored groups to see the wonderful sight.

The richly-colored garments of the crowd, and the gaily-decked cavalcade from the country and castle formed a brilliant foil to the brown-robed stream of friars. The Portiuncula is situated on one of the lowest slopes of the Apennine hills, below it stretches the wide plain. This was the guest-chamber. There were no other beds than the bare ground, with here and there a little straw. But we need not pity them as far as sleeping out of doors goes, because the Umbrian nights are of all things most beautiful. The air was soft and warm, and the brilliant blue-starred heavens above did away with any need of artificial light.

Francis met this crowd with great pleasure and cheerfulness, though he had not a crust to offer them. When they were all a.s.sembled he told them with sublime faith to give no thought as to what they were to eat or drink, but only to praise G.o.d. And his faith was rewarded. The people came from Perugia, Spoleto, Foligno, and a.s.sisi, and from all the neighboring country to carry meat and drink to that strange congregation. They came with horses and a.s.ses, and carts laden with bread and cheese and beans and other good things, and besides this they brought plates, and jugs, and knives; and knights, and barons, and other n.o.blemen, who had come to look on, waited on the brothers with much devotion. It was such sight as once seen could never be forgotten.

[Sidenote: _Three Grades._]

In these chapters Francis was at his best, and happily the historians of the time have preserved for us details of his mode of work. He was there to spend and be spent. His one desire was that the brethren should gain a renewal of spiritual strength in the days pa.s.sed together, and at the same time that the Order in general should be benefited. To attain the first end, he employed what we have pointed out before as being one of his strongest points--private and individual dealing. As we have also already intimated, we feel sure that the greater part of his phenomenal success resulted from this. In his own mind he had the brethren carefully graded. There were three divisions. First, the fervent; second, the troubled in spirit; and thirdly, the tepid. The correctness with which he a.s.signed everyone to his proper place was well-nigh divine. At the time of writing the fervent were numerous, but they were likely to be carried away by an exaggerated zeal. Some of them wore chains, and were ruining their health with over-watchings and fastings. Francis boldly forbade this.

He would have none of it. He spoke to such kindly and tenderly, but he also spoke forcibly in commending that reason which must regulate piety, as it regulates human life. By precise and detailed rules he delivered the fervent from exhausting their strength before its time, and thus preserved them for their work. But it was not an easy task that of controlling the fervent, especially when there was a spice of self-will in addition to the fervency.

In a large community, such as Francis now had on his hands, there is always sure to be a large percentage of troubled ones. Francis well knew this, he knew that the devil was always on the alert, that trials without and within are the lot of every mortal. These troubled ones found in their leader a tower of strength. To him they poured out their most secret confidences. The difficulties they had with uncongenial brethren, their interior doubts and fears, and awful dread that such might one day cause them to fall away. Francis showed all such the sincerest compa.s.sion. They knew and felt or that he loved them. His sympathy was a remedy in itself. They left him cheered and refreshed and strengthened.

Human weakness is never slow in showing itself, and the tepid were easily recognized. They were generally those who had made a very good beginning, but had allowed their zeal to cool and were becoming unfaithful to the grace G.o.d had given them, and to the rules of the Order. Francis was always gentle to these as he was gentle to all, but he knew how to maintain his authority--to reprove, blame, and correct.

He followed the Divine recommendation, "If thy brother shall offend thee, go and rebuke him between thee and him alone." His happiness was complete if he could gain the tepid brother.

[Sidenote: _Duty of Humility._]

In the general meetings where all the brethren were a.s.sembled he dealt with the interests of the whole work. He was very strong at these times on the duty of humility.

"Make yourselves small and humble to everyone," he would say, "but above all, be humble to the priests. The care of souls has been entrusted to them. We are only auxiliaries, to do what they cannot do." They were never to enter any field of labor without the invitation, or at least the consent, of the local clergy. And then, when they had received this permission they must never act as though they were masters. This policy acted well. The local clergy had no misgivings in seeking their a.s.sistance. They knew that these men would not try to make the people discontented with their own pastors, but rather sow content.

Another spirit Francis strove to get into his followers--that was the spirit of tolerance. He warned them against carrying their att.i.tude, in regard to riches, to excess, and to say that all men must see as they did or remain unsaved. Other reformers had done this and were extinguished. The rule of poverty was G.o.d's leading for Francis. All men he recognized were not called to follow this track, though some of his disciples, in their enthusiasm, would have it that they were. To them Francis said--

"Do not use the sacrifices you impose upon yourselves as a weapon.

Beware of haughty reproofs. We must show the same mercy that has been shown to us. The G.o.d Who has called us may also call them by-and-bye.

I wish all that are here never to call the rich anything but brothers and lords. They are our brothers, since they have the same Creator as we, and they are our lords also because without them we could not persevere in the poverty that we have made our law."

This spirit of tolerance was to extend to the sinners. He did not like to hear them berated.

"Many who are the children of the devil to-day," he said, "will become true disciples. Perhaps they will go before us. This thought alone ought to keep us from all violence of language. We have been sent to bring back to the truth those who are ignorant and in error. That is our office, and one that is not accomplished by the use of cutting words and sharp reproaches.... It is not enough that our compa.s.sion be in words only. The important thing is that it should be in our deeds, that all who see us may, by occasion of us, praise our common Father, Who is in Heaven."

[Sidenote: _Holiness._]

He was also strong on holiness. He taught that there must be a true light within that shines only from a clean heart, before it can shine on the outer world, and without this no good work could be accomplished.

Francis was full of the grace and wisdom of Jesus Christ. Of the spiritual effect of the first chapter a historian writes--