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Brother Francis

<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> <h3>Establishment of the Order.</h3> <div class="poem4"><div class="stanza"> "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." </div> </div> 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 space 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 ass 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 fashion. 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 pass, always singing, on their way, leaving hearts that had been touched, behind them.[Pg 51] 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 Assisi, who always called Francis his son, said to him once, "Your way of living, without owning anything, seems to me very harsh and difficult." <div class="sidenote">On the Right Lines.</div> 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 God 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 Assisi. 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[Pg 52] 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, God had told him to go. Then the brethren pleaded their simplicity. How they should look—travel-stained, bare-footed, and coarse-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. <div class="sidenote">Bishop Guido.</div> As soon as they arrived in Rome they discovered that unexpected help was right at hand. Guido, the good Bishop of Assisi, 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 godly 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 God. Guido had already told him the story of Francis, and said that it was his belief that God 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.[Pg 53] "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." Francis, equally persistent, kept to his point, and then the Cardinal, who would have been sorry had his advice been taken, entered heartily into his plans, and promised to support him with the Pope. As these interviews occupied several days, Francis became impatient at the delay. Nobody knows how he did it, but he succeeded unaided in getting into the Palace, and presenting himself and his brethren before the astonished eyes of the Pope! The Pope was walking in a secluded gallery, meditating mournfully on the declension of the Church of God, and trying to think what would remedy the growing evils, when his meditations were abruptly cut short by what looked to him like a troop of beggars. He was annoyed, and sent them off about their business before they could explain what they wanted. <div class="sidenote">A Dream.</div> That night the Pope dreamed a strange dream. He thought he saw a tiny palm tree spring up at his feet, which immediately grew and grew till it became a splendid tree. When he awoke, the conviction was strong in his mind that the poor man he had turned away the day before was none other than this little tree. And as he was thinking over his dream, Cardinal John came in, and said— "I have found a man whom I look upon as very perfect. He is resolved to follow literally the teachings of Christ, and I have no doubt that God intends to make use of him to reanimate faith on the earth." The Pope was struck with what he said, for he was convinced in his own mind that this was none other than the man he had driven away. He concealed his feelings from the Cardinal, and merely said he should like to see him. The Cardinal sent for Francis and his twelve, who speedily appeared, and the Pope saw at once they were the beggars[Pg 54] of yesterday. He welcomed Francis warmly, and went into the rule he had drawn up for his life, and that of his brotherhood. This rule has not come down to us, but from various sources we learn that it was merely a string of Bible verses, Christ's directions to His apostles, including those that had been Francis' own commission. The Pope listened to all that Francis had to say, then he said— <div class="sidenote">Hesitation.</div> "My children, the life to which you aspire seems hard and difficult. Doubtless your fervor is great, and we have no anxiety on your account, but it is our duty to consider those who will come after you. We must not impose upon them a burden they cannot bear. All this requires serious reflection." Then he dismissed them, saying he would lay the matter before the Cardinals. Well, the question was put to the Cardinals, and they talked and talked and talked. One said one thing, another said another, and most of them had some objection to raise. They said he went beyond due limits, that human nature could not long endure such a life, and altogether they showed by their conversation, how very, very far they, the leaders of a Church who claimed to follow the steps of the lowly Nazarene, had departed from the initial simplicity of the Gospel. Probably some idea of this sort was in Cardinal John's mind when he rose to address the Assembly. He did not say very much, but what he said went straight to the point. "If we refuse the petition of this poor man on the plea that his rule is difficult, let us beware lest we reject the Gospel itself, for the rule which he desires us to approve of is in conformity with the teachings of the Gospel. For us to say that Gospel perfection contains anything unreasonable or impossible is to rise up against the author of the Gospel and blaspheme Jesus Christ." The force of his words went home, more especially as the rule was entirely composed of Scripture verses! Still the Pope hesitated. He could not come to any immediate decision. "Go my son," he said to Francis, "and pray to God[Pg 55] that He may let you know that what you ask is from Him, and if it is we will grant your desire." For several days Francis gave himself up to prayer, and his next interview with the Pope convinced him that these poor beggars had a mission from God. He withheld his approval no longer. Embracing Francis, he said to the little band— "Go with God's blessing and preach repentance to all, in the way that He is pleased to inspire you with." A few days later the little party were on their way home again, overflowing with joy. For a fortnight they lingered in a little town called Orte. Some historians say they rested awhile from their labours, others that they were attacked with fever in crossing the Campagna. Be that as it may, it was here that Francis endured one of the severest temptations of his life. The beauty of the scenery, the delicious quiet, after the anxious time he had just gone through in Rome, all conspired to make him think that after all perhaps a life hidden from the world and devoted to prayer and meditation would be just as acceptable to God as the more laborious one of preaching and teaching. But he did not remain long under this spell, and in a little time they were all back in Assisi. <div class="sidenote">The Order Established.</div> It was at this point that Francis began first to shine as an orator. Of course the news of his visit to Rome spread all around, and more than ever he was an object of interest. The priests of St. George, who had educated him, asked him to preach in their church. This service must have been a success, because when the Bishop Guido returned to Assisi, he asked Francis to preach in the cathedral. Here Francis surpassed anything he had ever done before, and the large cathedral was too small to hold the crowds that flocked to hear the young man. Men and women came in from all the country-side, monks came down from their mountain monasteries, and learned and simple all agreed that "never man spake like this man!" Yet, as we have said before, his words were of the simplest. He preached repentance, not merely a lip repentance, but kind that worked itself out in daily life.[Pg 56] "If you have defrauded any man," he said, "restore unto him that which is his." This sort of plain, practical teaching was rapidly dying out. It came fresh to the people, and they were stirred mightily." <div class="sidenote">Less than the Least.</div> After their return from Rome, they began to be known as the Friars Minor. This was the way in which they got their name. One day a brother was reading aloud the Rule of the Order, and when he came to this passage, "and let the brothers be less than all others," it struck Francis very forcibly. He stopped the reader, and said— "My brothers, I wish from henceforth that this fraternity should be called the Order of Minors." Minor being the word in the original that expresses the idea of "less than the least." And this was the name they bore for many a year. It was an expressive and suitable one. Less than the least of all the brethren—that was what they desired to be. They were essentially of the people, they wore the garb of the poorest, and shared their life with its toils and privations. There was also another reason for this name, some historians say. Just before Francis formed his Order, there was an Order of Friars established in Italy, who spent their time in working among the poor. "Little Brothers of the Poor," they called themselves, and it was in contradistinction to them that Francis called himself "Minor," or less than the "Little Brothers."[Pg 57] <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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