Only a profoundly religious and poetic soul (is not the one the other?) can understand the transports of joy which overflowed the souls of St.
Francis"s spiritual sons.
The greatest crime of our industrial and commercial civilization is that it leaves us a taste only for that which may be bought with money, and makes us overlook the purest and truest joys which are all the time within our reach. The evil has roots far in the past. "Wherefore," said the G.o.d of old Isaiah, "do you weigh money for that which is not meat?
why labor for that which satisfieth not? Hearken unto me, and ye shall eat that which is good, and your soul shall delight itself in fatness."[6]
Joys bought with money--noisy, feverish pleasures--are nothing compared with those sweet, quiet, modest but profound, lasting, and peaceful joys, enlarging, not wearying the heart, which we too often pa.s.s by on one side, like those peasants whom we see going into ecstasies over the fireworks of a fair, while they have not so much as a glance for the glorious splendors of a summer night.
In the plain of a.s.sisi, at an hour"s walk from the city and near the highway between Perugia and Rome, was a ruinous cottage called Rivo-Torto. A torrent, almost always dry, but capable of becoming terrible in a storm, descends from Mount Subasio and pa.s.ses beside it.
The ruin had no owner; it had served as a leper hospital before the construction by the Crucigeri[7] of their hospital San Salvatore delle Pareti; but since that time it had been abandoned. Now came Francis and his companions to seek shelter there.[8] It is one of the quietest spots in the suburbs of a.s.sisi, and from thence they could easily go out into the neighborhood in all directions; it being about an equal distance from Portiuncula and St. Damian. But the princ.i.p.al motive for the choice of the place seems to have been the proximity of the _Carceri_, as those shallow natural grottos are called which are found in the forests, half way up the side of Mount Subasio. Following up the bed of the torrent of Rivo-Torto one reaches them in an hour by way of rugged and slippery paths where the very goats do not willingly venture.
Once arrived, one might fancy oneself a thousand leagues from any human being, so numerous are the birds of prey which live here quite undisturbed.[9]
Francis loved this solitude and often retired thither with a few companions. The brethren in that case shared between them all care of their material wants, after which, each one retiring into one of these caves, they were able for a few days to listen only to the inner voice.
These little hermitages, sufficiently isolated to secure them from disturbance, but near enough to the cities to permit their going thither to preach, may be found wherever Francis went. They form, as it were, a series of doc.u.ments about his life quite as important as the written witnesses. Something of his soul may still be found in these caverns in the Apennine forests. He never separated the contemplative from the active life. A precious witness to this fact is found in the regulations for the brethren during their sojourn in hermitage.[10]
The return of the Brothers to Rivo-Torto was marked by a vast increase of popularity. The prejudiced attacks to which they had formerly been subjected were lost in a chorus of praises. Perhaps men suspected the ill-will of the bishop and were happy to see him checked. However this may be, a lively feeling of sympathy and admiration was awakened; the people recalled to mind the indifference manifested by the son of Bernardone a few months before with regard to Otho IV. going to be crowned at Rome. The emperor had made a progress through Italy with a numerous suite and a pomp designed to produce an effect on the minds of the populace; but not only had Francis not interrupted his work to go and see him, he had enjoined upon his friars also to abstain from going, and had merely selected one of them to carry to the monarch a reminder of the ephemeral nature of worldly glory. Later on it was held that he had predicted to the emperor his approaching excommunication.
This spirited att.i.tude made a vivid impression on the popular imagination.[11] Perhaps it was of more service in forming general opinion than anything he had done thus far. The ma.s.ses, who are not often alive to delicate sentiments, respond quickly to those who, whether rightly or wrongly, do not bow down before power. This time they perceived that where other men would see the poor, the rich, the n.o.ble, the common, the learned, Francis saw only souls, which were to him the more precious as they were more neglected or despised.
No biographer informs us how long the Penitents remained at Rivo-Torto.
It seems probable, however, that they spent there the latter part of 1210 and the early months of 1211, evangelizing the towns and villages of the neighborhood.
They suffered much; this part of the plain of a.s.sisi is inundated by torrents nearly every autumn, and many times the poor friars, blockaded in the lazaretto, were forced to satisfy their hunger with a few roots from the neighboring fields.
The barrack in which they lived was so narrow that, when they were all there at once, they had much difficulty not to crowd one another. To secure to each one his due quota of s.p.a.ce, Francis wrote the name of each brother upon the column which supports the building. But these minor discomforts in no sense disturbed their happiness. No apprehension had as yet come to cloud Francis"s hopes; he was overflowing with joy and kindliness; all the memories which Rivo-Torto has left with the Order are fresh and sweet pictures of him.[12]
One night all the brethren seemed to be sleeping, when he heard a moaning. It was one of his sheep, to speak after the manner of the Franciscan biographer, who had denied himself too rigorously and was dying of hunger. Francis immediately rose, called the brother to him, brought forth the meagre reserve of food, and himself began to eat to inspire the other with courage, explaining to him that if penitence is good it is still necessary to temper it with discretion.[13]
Francis had that tact of the heart which divines the secrets of others and antic.i.p.ates their desires. At another time, still at Rivo-Torto, he took a sick brother by the hand, led him to a grape-vine, and, presenting him with a fine cl.u.s.ter, began himself to eat of it. It was nothing, but the simple act so bound to him the sick man"s heart that many years after the brother could not speak of it without emotion.[14]
But Francis was far from neglecting his mission. Ever growing more sure, not of himself but of his duty toward men, he took part in the political and social affairs of his province with the confidence of an upright and pure heart, never able to understand how stupidity, perverseness, pride, and indolence, by leaguing themselves together, may check the finest and most righteous impulses. He had the faith which removes mountains, and was wholly free from that touch of scepticism, so common in our day, which points out that it is of no more use to move mountains than to change the place of difficulties.
When the people of a.s.sisi learned that his Rule had been approved by the pope there was strong excitement; every one desired to hear him preach.
The clergy were obliged to give way; they offered him the Church of St.
George, but this church was manifestly insufficient for the crowds of hearers; it was necessary to open the cathedral to him.
St. Francis never said anything especially new; to win hearts he had that which is worth more than any arts of oratory--an ardent conviction; he spoke as compelled by the imperious need of kindling others with the flame that burned within himself. When they heard him recall the horrors of war, the crimes of the populace, the laxity of the great, the rapacity which dishonored the Church, the age-long widowhood of Poverty, each one felt himself taken to task in his own conscience.
An attentive or excited crowd is always very impressionable, but this peculiar sensitiveness was perhaps stronger in the Middle Ages than at any other time. Nervous disturbances were in the air, and upon men thus prepared the will of the preacher impressed itself in a manner almost magnetic.
To understand what Francis"s preaching must have been like we must forget the manners of to-day, and transport ourselves for a moment to the Cathedral of a.s.sisi in the thirteenth century; it is still standing, but the centuries have given to its stones a fine rust of polished bronze, which recalls Venice and t.i.tian"s tones of ruddy gold. It was new then, and all sparkling with whiteness, with the fine rosy tinge of the stones of Mount Subasio. It had been built by the people of a.s.sisi a few years before in one of those outbursts of faith and union which were almost everywhere the prelude of the communal movement. So, when the people thronged into it on their high days, they not merely had none of that vague respect for a holy place which, though it has pa.s.sed into the customs of other countries, still continues to be unknown in Italy, but they felt themselves at home in a palace which they had built for themselves. More than in any other church they there felt themselves at liberty to criticise the preacher, and they had no hesitation in proving to him, either by murmurs of dissatisfaction or by applause, just what they thought of his words. We must remember also that the churches of Italy have neither pews nor chairs, that one must listen standing or kneeling, while the preacher walks about gesticulating on a platform; add to this the general curiosity, the clamorous sympathies of many, the disguised opposition of some, and we shall have a vague notion of the conditions under which Francis first entered the pulpit of San Rufino.
His success was startling. The poor felt that they had found a friend, a brother, a champion, almost an avenger. The thoughts which they hardly dared murmur beneath their breath Francis proclaimed at the top of his voice, daring to bid all, without distinction, to repent and love one another. His words were a cry of the heart, an appeal to the consciences of all his fellow-citizens, almost recalling the pa.s.sionate utterances of the prophets of Israel. Like those witnesses for Jehovah the "little poor man" of a.s.sisi had put on sackcloth and ashes to denounce the iniquities of his people, like theirs was his courage and heroism, like theirs the divine tenderness in his heart.
It seemed as if a.s.sisi were about to recover again the feeling of Israel for sin. The effect of these appeals was prodigious; the entire population was thrilled, conquered, desiring in future to live only according to Francis"s counsels; his very companions, who had remained behind at Rivo-Torto, hearing of these marvels, felt in themselves an answering thrill, and their vocation took on a new strength; during the night they seemed to see their master in a chariot of fire, soaring to heaven like a new Elijah.[15]
This almost delirious enthusiasm of a whole people was not perhaps so difficult to arouse as might be supposed: the emotional power of the ma.s.ses was at that time as great all over Europe as it was in Paris during certain days of the Revolution. We all know the tragic and touching story of those companies of children from the north of Europe who appeared in 1212 in troops of several thousands, boys and girls mingled together pell-mell. Nothing could stop them, a mania had overtaken them, in all good faith they believed that they were to deliver the Holy Land, that the sea would be dried up to let them pa.s.s.
They perished, we hardly know how, perhaps being sold into slavery.[16]
They were accounted martyrs, and rightly; popular devotion likened them to the Holy Innocents, dying for a G.o.d whom they knew not. Those children of the crusade also perished for an unknown ideal, false no doubt; but is it not better to die for an unknown and even a false ideal than to live for the vain realities of an utterly unpoetic existence? In the end of time we shall be judged neither by philosophers nor by theologians, and if we were, it is to be hoped that even in this case love would cover a mult.i.tude of sins and pa.s.s by many follies.
Certainly if ever there was a time when religious affections of the nerves were to be dreaded, it was that which produced such movements as these. All Europe seemed to be beside itself; women appeared stark naked in the streets of towns and villages, slowly walking up and down, silent as phantoms.[17] We can understand now the accounts which have come down to us, so fantastic at the first glance, of certain popular orators of this time; of Berthold of Ratisbon, for example, who drew together crowds of sixteen thousand persons, or of that Fra Giovanni Schio di Vicenza, who for a time quieted all Northern Italy and brought Guelphs and Ghibellines into one another"s arms.[18]
That popular eloquence which was to accomplish so many marvels in 1233 comes down in a straight line from the Franciscan movement. It was St.
Francis who set the example of those open-air sermons given in the vulgar tongue, at street corners, in public squares, in the fields.
To feel the change which he brought about we must read the sermons of his contemporaries; declamatory, scholastic, subtile, they delighted in the minutiae of exegesis or dogma, serving up refined dissertations on the most obscure texts of the Old Testament, to hearers starving for a simple and wholesome diet.
With Francis, on the contrary, all is incisive, clear, practical. He pays no attention to the precepts of the rhetoricians, he forgets himself completely, thinking only of the end desired, the conversion of souls. And conversion was not in his view something vague and indistinct, which must take place only between G.o.d and the hearer. No, he will have immediate and practical proofs of conversion. Men must give up ill-gotten gains, renounce their enmities, be reconciled with their adversaries.
At a.s.sisi he threw himself valiantly into the thick of civil dissensions. The agreement of 1202 between the parties who divided the city had been wholly ephemeral. The common people were continually demanding new liberties, which the n.o.bles and burghers would yield to them only under the pressure of fear. Francis took up the cause of the weak, the _minores_, and succeeded in reconciling them with the rich, the _majores_.
His spiritual family had not as yet, properly speaking, a name, for, unlike those too hasty spirits who baptize their productions before they have come to light, he was waiting for the occasion that should reveal the true name which he ought to give it.[19] One day someone was reading the Rule in his presence. When he came to the pa.s.sage, "Let the brethren, wherever they may find themselves called to labor or to serve, never take an office which shall put them over others, but on the contrary, let them be always under (_sint minores_) all those who may be in that house,"[20] these words _sint minores_ of the Rule, in the circ.u.mstances then existing in the city, suddenly appeared to him as a providential indication. His inst.i.tution should be called the Order of the Brothers Minor.
We may imagine the effect of this determination. The _Saint_, for already this magic word had burst forth where he appeared,[21] the Saint had spoken. It was he who was about to bring peace to the city, acting as arbiter between the two factions which rent it.
We still possess the doc.u.ment of this _pace civile_, exhumed, so to speak, from the communal archives of a.s.sisi by the learned and pious Antonio Cristofani.[22] The opening lines are as follows:
"In the name of G.o.d!
"May the supreme grace of the Holy Spirit a.s.sist us! To the honor of our Lord Jesus Christ, the blessed Virgin Mary, the Emperor Otho, and Duke Leopold.
"This is the statute and perpetual agreement between the _Majori_ and _Minori_ of a.s.sisi.
"Without common consent there shall never be any sort of alliance either with the pope and his nuncios or legates, or with the emperor, or with the king, or with their nuncios or legates, or with any city or town, or with any important person, except with a common accord they shall do all which there may be to do for the honor, safety, and advantage of the commune of a.s.sisi."
What follows is worthy of the beginning. The lords, in consideration of a small periodical payment, should renounce all the feudal rights; the inhabitants of the villages subject to a.s.sisi were put on a par with those of the city, foreigners were protected, the a.s.sessment of taxes was fixed. On Wednesday, November 9, 1210, this agreement was signed and sworn to in the public place of a.s.sisi; it was made in such good faith that exiles were able to return in peace, and from this day we find in the city registers the names of those _emigres_ who, in 1202, had betrayed their city and provoked the disastrous war with Perugia.
Francis might well be happy. Love had triumphed, and for several years there were at a.s.sisi neither victors nor vanquished.
In the mystic marriages which here and there in history unite a man to a people, something takes place of which the transports of sense, the delirium of love, seem to be the only symbol; a moment comes in which saints, or men of genius, feel unknown powers striving mightily within them; they strive, they seek, they struggle until, triumphing over all obstacles, they have forced trembling, swooning humanity to conceive by them.
This moment had come to St. Francis.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] 1 Cel., 34; 3 Soc., 53; Bon., 39.
[2] Probably at Otricoli, which lies on the high-road between Rome and Spoleto. Orte is an hour and a half further on. It is the ancient _Otriculum_, where many antiquities have been found.
[3] 1 Cel., 35; Bon., 40 and 41.
[4] The only road connecting Celano with Rome, as well as with all Central and Northern Italy, pa.s.ses by Aquila, Rieti, and Terni, where it joins the high-roads leading from the north toward Rome.
[5] 1 Cel., 36 and 37; 3 Soc., 54; Bon., 45-48.
[6] Isaiah, lv., 2.
[7] This Order deserves to be better known; it was founded under Alexander III. and rapidly spread all over Central Italy and the East. In Francis"s lifetime it had in Italy and the Holy Land about forty houses dedicated to the care of lepers. It is very probable that it was at _San Salvatore delle Pareti_ that Francis visited these unhappy sufferers. He there made the particular acquaintance of a Cruciger named _Morico_. The latter afterward falling ill, Francis sent him a remedy which would cure him, informing him at the same time that he was to become his disciple, which shortly afterward took place. The hospital _San Salvatore_ has disappeared; it stood in the place now called _Ospedaletto_, where a small chapel now stands half way between a.s.sisi and Santa Maria degli Angeli. It was from there that the dying Francis blessed a.s.sisi. For Morico vide 3 Soc., 35; Bon., 49; 2 Cel., 3, 128; _Conform._, 63b.--For the hospital vide Bon., 49; _Conform._, 135a, 1; _Honorii III. opera_, Horoy, t. i., col. 206. Cf. Potthast, 7746; L. Auvray, _Registres de Gregoire IX._, Paris, 1890, 4to, no. 209. For the Crucigeri in the time of St. Francis vide the interesting bull _c.u.m tu fili prior_, of July 8, 1203; Migne, _Inn. op._, t. ii., col. 125 ff.
Cf. Potthast, 1959, and _c.u.m pastoris_, April 5, 1204; Migne, _loc. cit._, 319. Cf. Potthast, 2169 and 4474.