The Lives of St. Francis of Assisi

Br. Thomas of Celano; trans. by A. G. Ferrers Howell

Desiring to relate in order, with pious devotion and under the constant guidance and teaching of truth, the acts and life of our most blessed father Francis, it has been my endeavour, at the bidding of the lord and glorious Pope Gregory, to set forth to the best of my ability (though with unskilled words) at least those things that I have heard from blessed Francis's own mouth or have understood from faithful and approved witnesses, since the memory of none can retain all that he did and taught. But would that I might deserve to be the disciple of him who always avoided dark sayings and knew no pomp of words!

I have divided the whole of what I have been able to gather concerning that blessed man into three parts, arranging everything in single chapters, so that differences in time might not confuse the order of events and bring the truth into doubt. The first part accordingly keeps to the historical order and is principally devoted to the purity of his blessed conversation and life, to his holy character, and his wholesome teaching. In this part are also inserted a few out of the many miracles which the Lord our God deigned to work by him, while he was living in the flesh.

The second part relates the events from the last year but one of his life until his happy death. The third contains many, and omits more, of the miracles which the glorious Saint, reigning with Christ in the heavens, is working on earth. It also recounts the reverence, honor, praise, and glory which the happy Pope Gregory, and with him all the Cardinals of the Holy Roman Church, most devoutly paid to him by enrolling him in the number of the Saints. Thanks be to Almighty God, Who ever in His Saints shows Himself worthy of admiration and love!

Such are the miserable rudiments wherewith that man, whom today we revere as a saint because he truly is a saint, was familiar from boyhood; and almost until the twenty-fifth year of his age he miserably squandered and wasted his time. Nay, surpassing all his peers in his bad progress in vanity, he proved in more abundant measure an instigator of evil deeds and a zealot in folly. He was the admiration of all, and in pomp of vainglory he strove to surpass the rest in frolics, freaks, sallies of wit and idle talk, songs, and soft and flowing attire, for he was very rich. He was not miserly but prodigal, not a hoarder of money but a squanderer of his substance, a shrewd trader but a most ostentatious spender; a man, however, very kindly in his dealings, very easy and affable, though this became foolishness to him, for his attractive disposition was the chief reason that many went after him who were promoters of evil-doing and inciters to crime. And so, compassed about with the troops of the wicked, haughty, and uplifted, he strutted along amid the open places of Babylon until the Lord looked down from heaven and for His Name's sake removed His fury far from him, and curbed his tongue with His praise, that he might not perish utterly. Therefore the hand of the Lord came upon him, and the change wrought by the right hand of the Highest, that through him assurance of restoration to grace might be given to sinners, and that he might become to all a pattern of conversion to God.

And indeed, mention of arms here at the beginning is very beautifully made, and arms are very fittingly delivered to the knight about to do battle against the armed strong man, that like a second David he may in the name of the Lord God of hosts deliver Israel from the standing reproach of the foe.

And verily, the spotless Bride of God is the true Religion which he took unto him, and the “hidden treasure” is the Kingdom of Heaven, which he sought out with such great desire. For it was altogether necessary that the Gospel calling should be fulfilled in him who was to be a minister of the Gospel in faith and truth.

Behold, even now he wrestles naked with his naked foe, and having cast off all that is of the world, is mindful of God's righteousness alone! Even now for that righteousness's sake, laying aside all anxiety, he strives so to set at naught his own life that as a poor man he may find peace in his harassed way, and that meanwhile the wall of the flesh alone may separate him from the vision of God.

But some time afterwards, when the fame of the man of God was spreading everywhere and his name was noised abroad among the people, the Prior of the aforesaid monastery remembered and realized how the man of God had been treated, and came to him and for reverence of the Savior humbly begged forgiveness for himself and his monks.

But when now by the grace and power of the Highest he was beginning to think of holy and profitable things, one day, while still in the habit of the world, he met a leper, and, having become stronger than himself, went near and kissed him.

Thereafter also he began to despise himself more and more, until by the Redeemer's mercy he attained to perfect conquest of himself. While remaining in the world and still following the world he was a helper of other poor also, stretching forth the hand of mercy to the destitute and pitying the afflicted. For one day when (contrary to his wont, for he was most courteous) he had upbraided a poor man who asked alms of him, forthwith, led by penitence he began to say to himself that it was a great reproach and shame to deny the request of one asking in the name of so great a King. And then he settled it in his heart that he would, according to his power, never in future deny anything to any one asking him for the sake of God. Which thing he most diligently performed and fulfilled, until he gave himself wholly and in every way [to others], having become a practicer before he became a teacher of that counsel of the Gospel: “Give to him that asketh of thee,” it says, “and from him that would borrow of thee turn not away”.

The conspicuous truth and the manifest fulfilment of all these things which the Saint of God foretold are plain enough to all who consider them in the spirit of truth. Behold how the spirit of prophecy rested on S. Francis!

Verily the Lord was with blessed Francis whithersoever he went, cheering him with revelations and encouraging him with benefits. For one night when he was gone to sleep he seemed to be walking along a road by the side of which stood a very lofty tree. That tree was fair and strong, exceeding thick and high. And it came to pass that as he came near to it and stood beneath it, wondering at its beauty and height, he himself grew to such a height that he touched the top of the tree, and taking it in his hand, very easily bowed it to the ground. And so indeed it was done; since the Lord Innocent, the highest and loftiest tree in the world, bowed himself so graciously to his will and petition.

The followers of most holy Poverty, having nothing, loved nothing, and therefore had no fear of losing anything. They were content with a tunic only, patched sometimes within and without; no elegance was seen in it, but great abjectness and vileness, to the end that they might wholly appear therein as crucified to the world. They were girt with a cord, and wore drawers of common stuff; and they were piously purposed to remain in that state, and to have nothing more. Everywhere, therefore, they were secure, nor kept in suspense by any fear; distracted by no care, they awaited the morrow without solicitude, nor, though oftentimes in great straits in their journeyings, were they ever in anxiety about a night's lodging. For when, as often happened, they lacked a lodging in the coldest weather, an oven sheltered them, or, at least, they lay hid by night humbly in underground places or in caves. And by day those who knew how to, worked with their hands, and they stayed in lepers' houses, or in other decent places, serving all with humility and devotion.

Moreover, in whatsoever place a church might be built, even if they were not present there, yet if they could in anywise see it from afar they bowed down toward it flat on the ground, and inclining the inward and the outward man, worshipped the Almighty, saying, “We worship Thee, O Christ, [here] and at all Thy churches”; as the holy father had taught them. And (a thing not less to be wondered at) wherever they beheld a cross, or a mark of a cross, whether on the ground, on a wall, on trees, or in hedges by the way, they did that same thing.

For once when they were often confessing their sins to a secular priest who was deservedly infamous and a man to be scorned by all for his flagitious deeds, though his wickedness had been made known to them by many, they would by no means believe it, nor did they on that account omit to confess their sins to him as usual, or to pay him due reverence. And when one day he (or another priest) had said to one of the brethren, “See, brother, that thou be not a hypocrite,” that brother immediately believed, by reason of the priest's words, that he was a hypocrite, and therefore day and night he lamented, being moved with exceeding grief. And when the brethren asked him what might be the meaning of such great sadness and such unwonted mourning, he answered: “A priest has said a thing to me which causes me such grief that I can hardly think of anything else”. But the brethren tried to comfort him and urged him not to have such a belief. But he said, “What is it you say, brethren? It is a priest who said those words. Can a priest lie? Since then a priest lies not, we must needs believe that what he has said is true.” And so he continued a long time in such simplicity, but was calmed at length by the blessed father's words, who explained to him the priest's saying and wisely made excuse for the priest's intention. It was scarce possible for any brother to be in such trouble of mind that all the clouds would not depart and the sky be clear again at his bright words.

O holy father, how must those grieve for thy absence who have no hope at all ever to find thy like on earth! Help, we pray, by intercession those whom thou seest to be wrapped in the contagion of sin. Though thou wast already filled with the spirit of all the righteous, foreseeing the future and knowing the present, thou didst ever bear the image of holy simplicity, that thou mightest fly from all boastfulness.

But let us resume the thread of our story and return to the foregoing matter.

With all zeal and with all carefulness did he guard holy Poverty, his Lady, and in order that he might never attain to superfluity he would not allow any vessel to be found in the house if without it he could by any means avoid being subject to the extremity of need. For he used to say that it was impossible to satisfy need without yielding obedience to pleasure. He hardly ever, or most rarely, allowed himself cooked food; and if he did, he would often mix it with ashes, or quench its flavour with cold water. O how often, when walking through the world to preach the Gospel, if invited to dinner by great Princes (who revered him with wondrous affection), would he taste a little meat (to observe the holy Gospel), and then, making a show of eating, put his hand to his mouth and drop the remainder into his bosom, so that none might notice what he was doing!

What shall I say as to his drinking of wine, when he would not even allow himself to drink his fill of water when consumed by thirst?

For what did he do? While he was being magnified, and, with praiseworthy judgment, extolled by all, he alone counted himself the vilest of men, he alone most fervently despised himself. For oftentimes while all men were paying him honor he was wounded by exceeding grief, and, casting out the favor of men, he would, contrariwise, get someone to rebuke him. He would call one of the brethren to him and say, “On thy obedience I bid thee revile me harshly and tell me the truth in opposition to the lies of these men”. And when that brother, though unwillingly, called him a boor, and a venal and unprofitable wretch, he would answer smiling and heartily applauding him, “The Lord bless thee, because thou art saying what is most true, for such things it is meet for the son of Peter di Bernardone to hear”. Speaking thus, he would recall his humble origin.

Alas for us who thus have lost thee, worthy father, pattern of all well-doing and humility! Surely by a just judgment have we lost him whom, when we had him, we cared not to know!

And it is certainly wonderful how even the irrational creatures recognised his tender affection towards them and perceived beforehand the sweetness of his love;

Thanks be to God Almighty, who worketh all in all! However, since we have determined to set forth not miracles (which do not make holiness but show it), but rather the excellence of S. Francis's life and the flawless pattern of his conversation, we will omit the miracles for their abundance and return to works of eternal salvation.

But God's valiant knight, knowing that his Lord can do all things everywhere, yielded not to terrors, but said in his heart: “Thou canst no more brandish the weapons of thy wickedness against me here, O evil one, than if we were in public, in the sight of all”. Truly he was most steadfast, nor did he attend to anything but what was the Lord's. For when, as very often happened, he was preaching God's word among many thousands of people, Francis was as confident as if he had been speaking with an intimate companion. He saw the greatest concourse of people as one man, and to one man he preached most carefully, as if to a multitude. His purity of mind furnished him with confidence in preaching; and without premeditation he would utter things wonderful and unheard before by all. Sometimes, however, it happened, if he had meditated his sermon beforehand, that when the people were come together he had forgotten what he had thought of, and could not say anything else. Then, without any embarrassment, he confessed to the people that he had thought of many things beforehand of which he could remember nothing at all; and suddenly he would be filled with such eloquence that he moved his hearers to admiration. At other times, however, when he could say nothing, he dismissed the people with his blessing, having by that alone preached to them most effectually.

For instance, it happened that a brother had given a sharp answer to a poor man who had asked alms, saying: “See to it, for perhaps thou art a rich man feigning poverty”. When S. Francis, the father of the poor, heard of it, he was deeply grieved and sharply rebuked the brother who had spoken thus, and bade him strip himself before the poor man, kiss his feet, and beg his pardon.

The lord bishop, however, wondered both at the sheep which the man of God was leading and at the affection wherewith he was moved toward her. But after Christ's servant had unfolded to him at some length the parable of the sheep, the bishop, pricked at the heart, gave thanks to God for the purity of the man of God. Next day, on leaving the city, Francis considered what he should do with the sheep, and by his companion's advice he handed it over to a monastery of the handmaids of Christ at S. Severino to be taken care of. The venerable handmaids of Christ received the sheep with joy as a great gift bestowed on them by God, and they kept it carefully for a long time, and wove of the wool a tunic which they sent to the blessed father Francis at the church of S. Maria de Portiuncula on the occasion of a Chapter [of the Order]. The Saint of God received it with great reverence and exultation of mind, and embraced and kissed it again and again, inviting all the bystanders to share his joy.

Now, O good Jesus, in the heavens with the angels he is praising Thee as admirable who when on earth did surely preach Thee to all creatures as lovable.

There was in that place a man named John, of good repute but of better life, whom blessed Francis loved with special affection, because, having been a man of the most noble and honorable position in his town, he had trampled on the nobility of the flesh and followed after the nobility of the mind. This man did blessed Francis send for (as he was often wont) about fifteen days before the Nativity of the Lord, and said to him: “If thou wilt that we celebrate the present festival of the Lord at Greccio, make haste to go before and diligently prepare what I tell thee. For I would make memorial of that Child who was born in Bethlehem, and in some sort behold with bodily eyes His infant hardships; how He lay in a manger on the hay, with the ox and the ass standing by.” When the good and faithful man heard it, he made haste and prepared in the aforesaid place all the things that the Saint had told him of.

There Simplicity was honored, Poverty exalted, Humility commended; and of Greccio there was made as it were a new Bethlehem. The night was lit up as the day, and was delightsome to men and beasts. The people came, and at the new Mystery rejoiced with new rejoicings. The woodland rang with voices, the rocks made answer to the jubilant throng. The brethren sang, yielding due praises to the Lord, and all that night resounded with jubilation. The Saint of God stood before the manger, full of sighs, overcome with tenderness and filled with wondrous joy. The solemnities of Mass were celebrated over the manger, and the priest enjoyed a new consolation.

At length the solemn vigil was ended, and each one returned with joy to his own place.

In the 1226th year of our Lord's Incarnation, in the fourteenth Indiction, on Sunday the fourth day of October, in the city of Assisi, of which he was a native, at S. Maria de Portiuncula, where he first planted the Order of Lesser Brethren, our most blessed father Francis, having fulfilled twenty years from the time when he had perfectly cleaved to Christ, following the life and footsteps of the Apostles, came forth from the prison of the flesh and took his happy flight to the abode of the heavenly spirits, perfecting what he had begun. His hallowed and holy body was placed and honorably buried with hymns and praises in that city, where by many miracles it shines to the glory of the Almighty.

Truly not one of his members was left free from extreme suffering, and as the natural heat was being gradually lost, he was daily drawing near the end. The doctors were amazed and the brethren wondered how the spirit could live in flesh so dead, when the skin alone (the flesh having perished) stuck to the bones.

So after he had rested for a few days in the place he had so greatly longed for, and knew that the time of death was imminent, he called to him two brethren, and his specially loved sons, and bade them in exultation of spirit sing with a loud voice praises to the Lord concerning death which was near, or rather life which was so close at hand; while himself, as he was able, broke into that Psalm of David, “I cried unto the Lord with my voice, with my voice unto the Lord I made supplication”. But a certain brother among the company whom the Saint loved with very great affection, and who was in great anxiety on behalf of all the brethren, said to him when he saw these things and knew that his end was approaching, “Ah, kind father! thy children remain fatherless now, and are being bereft of the true light of their eyes! Remember then the orphans thou art leaving, forgive them all their faults, and rejoice them all both present and absent with thy holy blessing!” “See, my son,” answered the Saint, “God is calling me, I remit all the offenses and faults of my brethren as well absent as present, and so far as I may, I absolve them: do thou proclaim this to them and bless them all for me.”

Then, for that he was about to become dust and ashes, he bade that he should be laid on sack-cloth and sprinkled with ashes. All the brethren (whose father and leader he was) came together, and, as they stood reverently by and awaited his blessed departure and happy consummation, his most holy soul was released from the flesh and absorbed into the abyss of light, and his body fell asleep in the Lord. But one of his brethren and disciples, a man of no small fame, whose name I think it right to suppress now because while he lives in the flesh he chooses not to glory in such an announcement, saw the soul of the most holy father ascending over many waters in a straight course to heaven: and his soul was as it were a star having in some sort the bigness of the moon and possessing somewhat of the brightness of the sun, and borne up by a little white cloud.

Plain reason will judge that in the first case the eye is not single, but blind; and that in the second, the eye is evil. The feathers of these wings are the love of the Father, who saves in mercy, and the fear of the Lord, the terrible Judge: which feathers should keep the souls of the elect raised up above earthly things by checking bad impulses and ordering the affections in chastity.

With two wings also we should fly to bestow double charity on our neighbor; namely, by refreshing his soul with God's word and sustaining his body with earthly succor. But these wings are most rarely joined together, because hardly any one is able to fulfil both these duties. The feathers of these wings are the different acts necessary to be done for giving advice and help to our neighbor.

Lastly, with two wings the body, which is bare of merits, should be covered; and this is orderly performed when, so often as it has been stripped by the intervention of sin, it is again clothed with innocence through contrition and confession. The feathers of these wings are the manifold affections begotten by execration of sin and hunger after righteousness.

But virginal bashfulness restrained their much weeping: and indeed it was very incongruous to wail for one over whose passing hence the angel army hovered in throngs, while the fellow-citizens of the Saints and they of God's household rejoiced. And so those Ladies, divided between sorrow and joy, kissed his radiant hands adorned with most precious gems and flashing with pearls

O what was the grief of all over the woeful and piteous wailing of these Ladies! How great especially were the lamentations of the sorrowing sons! And their peculiar grief was shared by all, so that scarce anyone could refrain from weeping while the angels of peace were bitterly weeping.

See, most holy and blessed father, I have accompanied thee with praises due, and worthy though insufficient, and have written a narrative, such as it is, of thy exploits. Grant therefore to me, a miserable man, so worthily to follow thee now that in mercy I may deserve to overtake thee hereafter. Remember, O tender father, the poor sons, to whom, after thee their one and only solace, scarce any comfort is left. For though thou, the first and best portion of them, be mingled with choirs of angels and placed among the Apostles on a throne of glory, they nevertheless are lying in mire and dirt, shut up in a dark prison, and crying mournfully to thee thus: “Present, father, before Jesus Christ, the Son of the Supreme Father, his sacred wounds, and show forth the tokens of the Cross in side, feet, and hands, that He may deign in mercy to display His own wounds to the Father, Who for this will indeed ever be favorable to us in our misery. Amen.”

The Roman Pontiff, the highest of all pontiffs, the leader of Christians, the lord of the world, the shepherd of the Church, the Anointed of the Lord, the Vicar of Christ, heard and understood these things. He rejoiced and exulted, he was in transports of gladness when he beheld the renewal of the Church of God in his own times by new mysteries but by ancient wonders, and that in the person of his own son, whom he bore in his sacred womb, cherished in his bosom, suckled with the word, and nurtured with the food of salvation. The other guardians of the Church heard it too, the shepherds of the flock, the defenders of the faith, the friends of the Bridegroom, they who are at his side, the hinges (

Meantime pressing affairs, a fresh emergency, compelled the blessed Pope to go to Perugia, whence (a superabundant and unparalleled favor) he purposed to return to Assisi for the supreme business. Finally there was another meeting at Perugia, and the sacred assembly of the venerable Cardinals was held in the Lord Pope's chamber about this matter. All were unanimous, and said the same thing. They read the miracles with the utmost reverence, and extolled the blessed father's life and conversation with the loudest encomiums.

The solemn day, to be held in reverence by every age, arrived, shedding sublime rapture not only on earth but even in the surroundings of heaven. Bishops were called together, abbots arrived, and prelates of the Church from the remotest parts were there; royalty was present, and a noble multitude of counts and magnates assembled. They all escorted the lord of all the world, and with him entered the city of Assisi with auspicious pomp. They reached the place prepared for the solemn event, and the whole company of glorious Cardinals, bishops, and abbots gathered round the blessed Pope. An extraordinary concourse of priests and clerks was there, there was the happy and sacred company of Religious, there the more bashful habit of the sacred veil, there a mighty throng of all peoples and a well-nigh countless multitude of either sex. They ran together from every quarter, and every age with the utmost eagerness was represented in that great assembly. Small and great were there, slave and he who was free from his lord.

On the day that the hallowed and holy body of the most blessed father Francis was put away, like a most precious treasure, having been anointed rather with super-celestial aromas than with earthly spices, a girl was brought whose neck had for a year past been monstrously bent, so that her head was joined to the shoulder, and she could only look up sideways. But after placing her head for some time under the coffin wherein the precious body of the Saint lay, forthwith she raised up her neck, through the most holy man's merits, and her head was restored to its proper position, so that the girl was astounded at the sudden change in herself and began to run away, weeping excessively. Now in the shoulder to which her head had been fastened a pit was seen, caused by the position which the long illness had brought about.

Another citizen of Gubbio, after bringing his son, who was bowed together, in a basket to the holy father's tomb, received him back sound and whole, though he had been bowed in so extraordinary a way that his legs adhered to the buttocks and were quite withered.

The man had been crooked, and a beggar, for six years, and was of advanced age.

A blind man of Spello recovered his long-lost sight before the tomb of the holy body.

Another woman of Camerino had been entirely deprived of the light of her right eye. Her parents laid on the eye a cloth that blessed Francis had touched, and so, having made a vow, they yielded thanks to the Lord God and S. Francis for the recovered light.

Something similar happened to a woman of Gubbio, who, after making a vow, rejoiced in the recovery of her former sight.

A citizen of Assisi, who had lost the light of his eyes for five years, having been intimate with blessed Francis while he lived, always in praying to the blessed man used to recall this intimacy, and on touching his sepulchre was healed.

One Albertino of Narni had wholly lost the sight of his eyes for about a year, and his eyelids hung down to his cheeks. He made a vow to blessed Francis, and forthwith having recovered his sight, made ready, and went to visit his glorious sepulchre.

Many men and women also, tormented in various ways by devils and deluded by their jugglery, were snatched out of their power by the noble merits of the holy and glorious father. But because people of that kind are often the victims of delusion, let us dismiss this matter briefly and pass on to more important things.

Another lad, named Mancino, sick unto death and given over by all, called, as well as he could, on the name of blessed Francis and instantly recovered.

A boy of Arezzo, named Walter, suffering from continual fever and tormented by two abscesses, who had been given over by the doctors, was restored to his wished-for health by his parents making a vow to blessed Francis.

Another, nigh to death, was forthwith freed from all his suffering by making a waxen image, and that before the image was finished.

There was a woman in the city of Narni who for eight years had had a hand so withered that she could do nothing with it. At last the most blessed father Francis appeared to her in a vision, and by stretching out her hand made it as serviceable as the other.

In the same city was a lad who for ten years had been laid up with a grievous sickness, and had become so swollen that no medicine could do him good. But by the merits of blessed Francis, to whom his mother had made a vow, he immediately received the blessing of health.

In the city of Fano was a man laid up with dropsy whose limbs were horribly swollen, but through blessed Francis, he was found worthy to be wholly freed from that sickness.

A citizen of Todi suffered so terribly from gouty arthritis that he could neither sit down nor rest. The violence of the disease gave him such constant chills that he seemed reduced to nothing. He called in doctors, he multiplied baths, he used many medicines, but none of these things could give him relief. But one day, in the presence of a priest, he made a vow in order that S. Francis might give him back his former health: and so, after offering prayers to the Saint, he presently found his former health restored.

There was a man called Bontadoso who suffered so grievously in his hands and feet that he could neither move nor turn in any direction: and when he was now unable to eat or sleep, a woman came to him one day advising and suggesting that if he would be speedily delivered from this infirmity he should most earnestly make a vow to blessed Francis. But the man, in a paroxysm of pain, answered, “I don't believe he is a Saint”. The woman, however, persisted in her suggestion of the vow, and at last he made it in the following words: “I vow myself to S. Francis, and believe him to be a Saint, if he cures me of this illness within three days”. And, by the merits of God's Saint, he was presently delivered, and walked, ate, and slept, giving glory to Almighty God.

In the city of Fano a lad named Bonuomo, who was held by all the doctors to be paralysed and leprous, was devoutly offered to blessed Francis by his parents; whereupon he was cleansed from his leprosy, the paralysis left him, and he gained full health.

There was a man in the diocese of Perugia quite deprived of speech who always kept his mouth open, gaping horribly and in great distress, for his throat was very much swollen. When he reached the place where the most holy body rests and was about to go up the steps to the tomb, he vomited much blood, and, thoroughly relieved, began to speak and to open and shut his mouth as required.

There was a lad at the fortress of Greccio who had lost his hearing, his memory, and his speech, nor could he understand or perceive anything. But his parents, having great trust in S. Francis, made a vow to him with humble devotion on behalf of the lad; and when the vow had been fulfilled he was richly endowed by the favor of the most holy and glorious father Francis with all the senses he had lacked.

To the praise, glory, and honor of Jesus Christ our Lord, whose kingdom and empire endureth firm and immovable throughout all ages. Amen.

Blessing and honor and all praise be to God only wise, Who ever most wisely worketh all in all to His glory. Amen. Amen. Amen.

And so to the many who were amazed at his unwonted gladness he said that he was going to be a great prince.

It was God's mysteries that Francis was finding out, and even in ignorance he was being led to perfect knowledge.

When he came to the altar of the chief of the Apostles he wondered that the offerings of the visitors there were so small and threw down a handful of money at that place, thus pointing out that special honor should be paid by all to him whom God honored above the rest.

Several times also he presented poor priests with church ornaments; and he paid due respect to them all, even to them of lower degree. For, as one who was about to take on him the apostolic commission and was whole and entire in the Catholic faith, he was from the first full of reverence toward the ministers and service of God.

But he did not forget to take thought for that holy image, nor did he in any wise neglect its bidding. Straightway he gave money to some priest, that he might buy a lamp and oil, lest the sacred image should be defrauded, even for a moment, of its due honor of light. Then he diligently hastened to accomplish the rest, and gave untiring toil to the repair of that church. For, though the Divine words addressed to him referred to that Church which Christ acquired by His own Blood, he would not reach the highest point suddenly, for he was about to pass gradually from the flesh to the spirit.

At the persuasion of the bishop of the city, a very pious man, who told him that he might not spend anything ill-gotten

In a short time very many were turned from the corroding cares of the world, and to their infinite advantage returned under Francis's guidance to their native land. It would be too long to go on and tell how each one attained the prize of the high calling.

The Lord Pope wondered at the parable put before him, and acknowledged without hesitation that Christ had spoken in the man. He recalled a vision that he had himself seen a few days before, and affirmed, under the teaching of the Holy Ghost, that it also would be fulfilled in this man. He had seen in his sleep that the Lateran basilica was on the point of falling and that a certain Religious, a man small and despised, was propping it on his own back, that it might not fall. “Surely,” said he, “this is he who by his acts and teaching shall prop the Church of Christ.” Whence it was that that lord so readily yielded to his request, and that, filled with devotion to God, he ever loved Christ's servant with special affection. And so he quickly granted what he had been asked, and earnestly promised to grant yet greater things than these. And thenceforth, by virtue of the authority conferred on him, Francis began to scatter the seeds of virtue, preaching yet more fervently as he went about the cities and fortresses.

The happy father used to say that it had been revealed to him by God that among all other churches in the world built in her honor, the Blessed Virgin loved this one with special affection; and therefore the Saint loved it more than all the rest.

Now I deem blessed Francis to have been a most holy mirror of the holiness of the Lord, and an image of His perfection. All this man's words, I say, and all his deeds have a certain Divine savor, and if they be looked into by a diligent and humble disciple, they will soon imbue him with wholesome discipline and make him acceptable to that supreme philosophy.

Therefore, though I have already written some things concerning him—in humble style indeed and as it were in passing—I think it not superfluous to add some few things out of many whereby both the Saint may be commended and our slumbering affection aroused.

We should ever be on our guard against singularity, which is nothing else but a fair-seeming precipice: and with regard to it, several singular ones have found by experience that they ascend to the heavens and then go down to the abyss. But give heed to the virtue of devout confession, for it not only makes a man holy but shows that he is so.

O how great are the works of the Lord in the council and assembly of the righteous! For therein those molested [by temptation] are restrained, the crushed are raised up, the lukewarm are aroused, therein “iron sharpeneth iron,” and brother helped by brother is established like a strong city. And though thou cannot see Jesus for the worldly throng, the angelic throng of heaven in nowise hinders thee. Only fly not, and being faithful unto death thou shalt receive the crown of life.

And what wonder if he who will not bear the Lord of Majesty is weighed down by a shameful burden? There is no middle course, I say: Either thou shalt bear a light burden (whereby rather thou shalt be borne) or else wickedness, heavier than a talent of lead, shall sit [on thee], a great mill-stone hanging about thy neck.

Verily it is just that those who turn their backs on benefits should come to destruction.

Not many days later discord arose among them; neighbors took up arms against neighbors, the burghers attacked the knights, the nobles in their turn fell upon the plebeians; and at last they fought with such fury, and there was such slaughter, that the very neighbors around, whom they had wronged, grieved with them.

A judgment worthy of praise! for, since they had withdrawn from the One Supreme, it was impossible that unity should remain among them. There can be no stronger bond in a state than duteous love to God, and faith sincere and unfeigned.

Happy woman thus to soften her lord unto life! In her is fulfilled the Apostle's saying: “The unbelieving husband hath been saved by the believing wife”. But such (to use a common expression) may be counted on one's fingers nowadays.

It is an undoubted token of perverseness and an evident proof of failing sense not to be of the same mind with a good companion when one is going on the same way with him.

Finally, the miracle satisfied them more than the banquet; else had they not been satisfied. Even so that Father's eye never despises His children; but rather when they are beggars in the greatest need does a richer Providence feed them. And by how much God's bounty is more lavish than man's, by so much is the poor man fed at a more bountiful table than the tyrant.

The Saint observed this with astonishment, and invited the brethren to rejoice: “Look,” said he, “at what our brothers the redbreasts have done, just as if they were gifted with reason! For they have said: ‘See, brothers, we present you with our chicks who have been fed with your crumbs: do with them what you will. We betake ourselves to another home.’” So the little birds made themselves quite at home with the brethren, and took their food peaceably. But greed broke up their concord, for the biggest got uplifted and persecuted the smaller ones; for when he had eaten as much as he wanted, he drove the rest away from the food. “See,” said S. Francis, “what this greedy bird is doing. Though full and satisfied himself, he grudges against his hungry brothers: he will come to a bad end yet!” The punishment followed instantly on the words of the Saint. The disturber of his brethren went up on a vessel of water to drink, and immediately fell in and was drowned; nor was any cat or other beast found who dared touch the creature cursed by the Saint. Horrible indeed is greed in men when it is thus punished in birds! Moreover the sentence of the Saints should be feared, when punishment follows so close upon it.

Thus far the spirit of prophecy has spoken for the spiritual privilege [he enjoyed].

Here was no vanity, but a holy recital which for our edification holy Charity, she that “seeketh not her own,” uttered in holy, modest words: nor was the privilege of such wondrous love shown by Christ toward His servant to be passed over in unprofitable silence. For all we who were witnesses of it know how quietly and peacefully the times passed during which the servant of Christ lived, and how they abounded in fruitfulness of all good things. For there was no famine of God's word at that time when the preachers' words were most full of power, and all the hearers' hearts were most acceptable to God. Patterns of holiness shone forth in religious semblance

He would tell his sons that she was the way of perfection, that she was the pledge and earnest of eternal riches. No one was so greedy of gold as he of Poverty, no one more careful in guarding a treasure than he in guarding this pearl of the Gospel. Herein especially was his sight offended, if he saw in the brethren anything either at home or abroad contrary to poverty. Verily, he himself, from the beginning of the Religion till his death, was rich in a tunic only, a cord, and drawers, and had naught else. His poor habit showed where he was laying up his riches. Deriving hence gladness, confidence, and freedom to run his course, he rejoiced in having exchanged perishable treasures for one a hundredfold greater.

Let those hearken who prepare pillows on every side, so that whichever way they fall they may be caught gently. The Devil gladly follows opulence, he likes to take his stand by costly beds, especially where there is no compulsion of necessity, and the profession forbids such things. None the less does the old serpent fly from a naked man,

There is an old proverb, “Correct a fool and he will be a friend”.

In short, on no occasion would he let the brethren have more than two tunics, which however he allowed them to patch with pieces sewn on. He bade them have a horror of choice clothing, and those who were disobedient in this matter he most sternly reprimanded before all. In order to confound such by his own example, he sewed sackcloth over his own coarse tunic: and even at his death asked that his funeral tunic should be covered with common sackcloth. But he allowed the brethren under stress of sickness or other need a soft tunic next the skin, provided that the habit preserved its roughness and coarseness outside. For he would say: “Rigor shall yet be so relaxed, lukewarmness shall yet so prevail, that the sons of the poor father will not be at all ashamed to wear even scarlet array, changing the color only”.

We thy alien children do not belie thee herein, O father, but our iniquity rather belies itself, for lo! it is now clearer than the light and is increasing day by day.

And so, bound to the Lady Poverty by an indissoluble tie, he looked for her dowry not in the present but in the future. Those psalms which refer to poverty—for instance, “The patience of the poor shall not perish for ever,” and “Let the poor see and be glad”—he used to chant with more fervent affection and more gladsome rejoicing.

Such a pitiful distribution [as that man made] deludes many nowadays who seek to attain the life of bliss by a worldly beginning. For no one consecrates himself to God in order to enrich his kinsfolk, but in order to gain life by the fruit of good work, redeeming his sins by the price of compassion.

S. Francis often also taught the brethren if they were in want to have recourse to strangers rather than to those entering the Order, first for example's sake, and next to avoid all appearance of base advantage.

But that the vision refers to the father is especially clear from the fact that he himself, avoiding arrogance, absolutely refused to expound it, and surely if it had dropped down in reference to the Order he would not have passed it by in dumb silence.

We relate, as we have seen with our eyes (so far as it is possible to convey them to human ears), a few of his achievements in prayer, for posterity to copy. Of his whole time he made a holy leisure wherein to write wisdom on his heart, for fear that unless he were continually advancing, he might seem to be falling short. If invaded by visits from lay-folk, or by any business, he would cut them short unfinished, and go back to his inward musings. The world had no savor for him who was fed with heavenly sweetness, and Divine delights made him revolt from the gross concerns of men. He always sought out a hidden place wherein he might make not only his spirit but his every member fit for his God. When in public he felt himself suddenly visited by the Lord, in order that he might not lack a cell, he made a little cell of his cloak: and sometimes, if he had no cloak, he covered his face with his sleeve, that he might not disclose the hidden manna. He always put something between him and the bystanders, lest they should be aware of the Bridegroom's touch, so that he might pray unseen [even] when at close quarters with many on ship-board. Finally, when he could do none of these things, he made a temple of his breast. There was no spitting nor groaning, for he was unconscious of self; no hard breathing nor outward motions, for he was absorbed in God.

The blessed father was wont never to pass over negligently any visitation of the Spirit; but when it was offered, he followed it up, and, so long as the Lord permitted, he enjoyed the sweetness thus offered. If therefore while he was being pressed by any business, or was on a journey, he gradually became aware of the touch of grace, he would taste that sweetest manna by frequent snatches here and there. For as he was on his way he would allow his companions to go on ahead and himself stand still; and so, converting the new inspiration into enjoyment, he received not the grace in vain.

Meet it is that God's servants should give one another such gifts; and such communion between them in giving and receiving is fitting. That holy love which is sometimes termed “special” is content with the fruit of prayer; charity makes little account of earthly gifts. To help and to be helped in the spiritual warfare, to commend and to be commended before Christ's tribunal, this I believe to be the characteristic of holy love. But to what a height do you suppose that man rose in prayer to be able thus to raise up another by his merits?

But what wonder is it if Francis appeared crucified, all whose concern was ever with the Cross? What great thing is it if, the wondrous Cross having been thus rooted within him, it sprang up out of a good ground and brought forth notable flowers, leaves, and fruits? Nothing of other kind could arise in that soil, when from the first that wondrous Cross had thus claimed it all for its own.

But I must now return to my subject.

It chanced that a certain ewe brought forth a lamb one night when the servant of the Most High was lodging in the monastery of S. Verecondo, in the diocese of Gubbio. But a cruel sow that was there spared not the innocent creature's life, but ravenously bit the lamb to death. When men arose in the morning they found the lamb dead, and knew of a truth that the sow was guilty of that crime. When the tender father heard it, he was moved to wondrous pity, and, at the recollection of another Lamb, bewailed before all who were present this lamb that had been killed, saying: “Alas, brother lamb, innocent creature, who representest the everlasting advantage of mankind! Cursed be the pitiless one that slew thee, and let no man nor beast eat of her!” Wonderful to relate, that baleful sow immediately sickened, and after suffering torments for three days, at length paid the penalty of death. It was cast into the monastery ditch, where it lay for a long time dried up like a board, nor furnished food to any famished creature.

Well said, father, for the sight of them makes no one holy. Well said, I repeat, for they bring no light, but much loss, were it but loss of time! They are a hindrance to those who would take the arduous journey, and look upon that Countenance which is full of graces.

And many times in speaking of this matter he declared that all talk with women is worthless except only in the way of confession or the very brief admonition that is customary. For he said: “What business has a Lesser Brother to transact with a woman unless when she makes religious request for holy penance or for advice as to a better life?”

Let them that frequent palaces mark this, and know that they have been drawn abortive from their mother's womb. I condemn not obedience, but I denounce ambition, idleness, and luxury; and finally for all “obediences,”

In this teaching alone did the most holy father's deeds not correspond with his words, for he subjected his body, assuredly innocent, to scourgings and hardships, multiplying wounds upon it without cause, inasmuch as the heat of the spirit had already so refined his body that even as “his soul was athirst for God, so also was his most holy flesh in manifold wise”.

O thou who wast the same in tongue and in life, the same without and within, the same when subject and when superior! Thou who didst ever glory in the Lord lovedst naught of outward, naught of private glory! But, lest I should offend the wearers of skins, I crave their indulgence for speaking of one piece of skin having been put on for the sake of the other: for we know that those who were stripped of innocence needed tunics of skins.

And so, though he was so famous that very many reckoned him a Saint, he deemed himself worthless before God and men, and felt no pride over his abounding fame and sanctity, nor even over the great number of brethren and sons so holy that had been given him as an earnest of the reward of his merits.

Another time, when speaking of the same matter, he said that commands issued on request were properly licenses, while those enjoined without having been asked for he named sacred obediences; both, he said, were good, but the latter were the safer. But he believed that obedience to be supreme, and to have nothing of flesh and blood in it, whereby one goes by Divine inspiration among the unbelievers, whether for one's neighbors' gain or from longing for martyrdom. And to ask for this “obedience” he judged to be very acceptable to God.

Where are they who proclaim themselves happy in his blessing and boast that they had gained his intimacy as fully as they chose? If (which God forbid) they shall be found to have displayed in themselves the works of darkness to the peril of others, without having repented, woe unto them, woe of eternal damnation!

This pestilence rages among the subjects because the superiors are shutting their eyes to it, as though it were possible to escape the punishment of those whose vice they are tolerating.

Over rocks he walked reverently out of regard for Him who is called the Rock. When he had to recite the verse “On a rock hast Thou exalted me,” he used to say, in order to employ a more reverent expression, “Beneath [my] feet hast Thou exalted me”.

I believe that the man to whom at his will cruel things became gentle had returned to primal innocence.

No wonder if the other creatures reverenced the chief lover of the Creator!

Sometimes he sentenced one who had stripped his brother of the glory of his good name to be stripped of his tunic, and suffered him not to lift up his eyes to God unless he had first restored that which he had taken away. Hence it was that the brethren of that time, making as it were a special abjuration of this vice, had firmly agreed together carefully to shun all [discourse] that might detract from the honor of others or redound to their disgrace. Well done, indeed! For what is a slanderer but the gall of humanity, the leaven of wickedness, the infamy of the world? What is a double-tongued man but the scandal of Religion, the poison of the cloister, the breaker-up of unity? Alas! the earth's surface is full of poisonous animals, nor can any good man escape the teeth of envious rivals. Rewards are offered to informers, and when innocence has been undermined the palm is sometimes given to falsehood. Lo! if anyone cannot live by his own honesty, he may earn food and clothing by laying waste the honesty of others.

Observe that it is a characteristic of pious simplicity to abide by the rule of one's betters and ever to rely on the examples and instructions of the Saints.

Who shall grant to human wisdom to follow him, even now that he is reigning in heaven with the zeal wherewith pious Simplicity copied him on earth? What can I add but this: Simplicity followed the Saint in life and went before him into life.

Pious teaching indeed! For what is so necessary for one returning from a very different sphere, as to banish and purge away by exercises in humility the inveterate and deep-seated affections of the world? [Surely] whosoever should enter into the school of perfection would quickly attain to perfection.

A lay brother who wanted to have a psalter and asked S. Francis's leave was offered ashes instead of a psalter.

After his death, S. Francis appeared in a vision to one of his companions who was at one time busying himself about preaching, and forbade him to do so, bidding him walk in the way of Simplicity. God is his witness that after this vision he felt such sweetness that for several days the dew of the father's words seemed actually to be dropping into his ears.

For once when a poor man asked him for something “for the love of God,” and he had nothing, he stealthily took scissors and hastened to divide his tunic with him; which thing he would have done, had he not been detected by the brethren; whereupon he caused the poor man to be otherwise provided for. “The love of Him who loved us much, is much to be loved,” he said.

O Advocate of the poor, fulfil thou to us the office of Protectress until the time foreordained of the Father!

He used to say that that was a royal virtue which shone so excellently in the King and in the Queen. And also when the brethren in private were deliberating which virtue made one the most a friend to Christ, he would answer, as though opening the secret of his heart: “Know ye, my sons, that Poverty is a special way of salvation, whose fruit is manifold, and well known to few”.

Mark diligently herein Francis's devotion, give heed to God's good pleasure concerning our dust, and magnify the praise of holy obedience. For God complied with the prayers of him whose voice man obeyed not.

Another brother went in winter to a nunnery on some errand of compassion without being aware of the Saint's strong objection to such a visit. When the fact became known to the Saint, he made that brother walk several miles naked when the snow was deep upon the ground.

The brethren of those times, who were in everything eager to perform more than was enjoined, deemed not this faith which they had sworn to obey to be hard or harsh. For listlessness and idleness find no place where the goad of love is ever urging on to greater achievements.

And at length as he prayed amid the conflict, there was vouchsafed to him from the Lord the promise of eternal life under this similitude: “If the whole bulk of the earth and machine of the world were gold beyond price, and if in exchange for the heavy sufferings thou art enduring all thy pain were removed, and there were given thee for a reward a treasure of glory in comparison whereof the aforesaid gold should be nothing, and unworthy even to be named, wouldst not thou rejoice and gladly bear what thou art bearing now?” “I should rejoice indeed,” said the Saint; “yea, and above measure I should rejoice.” “Exult, then,” said the Lord to him, “for thy sickness is the earnest of My kingdom, and do thou, secure and confident through the merit of patience, await the inheritance of that kingdom.” But with what exultation, thinkest thou, did the man rejoice who was blessed by so happy a promise? With what patience, nay more with what love, believest thou that he welcomed bodily sufferings? He now knows perfectly; but then it was impossible for him to utter it. However, he did tell some little of it, as he could, to his companions. Then it was that he composed certain “Praises concerning the Creatures,” inciting them in some sort to praise the Creator.

For he had done all this from zeal for Poverty; so that he would not even that his habit should be his own at the end, but as it were lent by another. (Now he wore the cap of sackcloth on his head to cover the scars which had been produced by the treatment he had undergone for the malady of his eyes; whereas he rather needed a smooth cap of the choicest and softest wool).