About this book

Life of St. Francis of Assisi

Paul Sabatier

andare come chierico, ma come laico, benche fassi molto litterato e grande decretalista._ Cf. _Conform._, 71a., 2. _Fr. Thomas Hibernicus sibi pollecem amputavit ne ad sacerdotium cogeretur._ _Conform._, 124b, 2. [19] See, for example, the letter to Brother Leo. Cf. _Conform._, 53b, 2. _Fratri Egidio dedit licentiam liberam ut iret quocumque vellet et staret ubicumque sibi placeret._ [20] The hermitage of Monte-Casale, at two hours walk northeast from Borgo San Sepolero, still exists in its original state. It is one of the most significant and curious of the Franciscan deserts. [21] The office of guardian (superior of a monastery) naturally dates from the time when the Brothers stationed themselves in small groups in the villages of Umbria--that is to say, most probably from the year 1211. A few years later the monasteries were united to form a custodia. Finally, about 1215, Central Italy was divided unto a certain number of provinces with provincial ministers at their head. All this was done little by little, for Francis never permitted himself to regulate what did not yet exist. [22] _Fior._, 26; Conform., 119b, 1. Cf. Rule of 1221, cap. vii. _Quicumque ad eos (fratres) venerint, amicus vel adversarius, fur vel latro benigne recipiatur._ [23] 2 Cel., 3, 120; _Spec._, 37; _Conform._, 53a, 1. See below, p. 385, n. 1. [24] _Fior._, Vita di fra Ginepro; _Spec._, 174-182; _Conform._, 62b. [25] A. SS., p. 600. [26] 3 Soc., 56; 2 Cel., 1, 13; Bon., 24. [27] Bon., 30; 3 Soc., 30, 31; 2 Cel., 3, 52. Cf. _Fior._, 2. The dragon of this dream perhaps symbolizes heresy. [28] Bon., 83; 172; _Fior._, 1, 16; _Conform._, 49a, 1, and 110b, 1; 2 Cel., 3, 51. [29] Bernard de Besse, _De laudibus_, Turin MS., f^o. 102b and 96a. He died November 15, 1271. A. SS., Augusti, t. ii., p. 221. [30] _Fior._, 8; _Spec._, 89b ff.; _Conform._, 30b, 2, and 140a, 2. [31] I need not here point out the analogy in form between this chapter and St. Paul's celebrated song of love, 1 Cor. xiii. [32] We find the same thoughts in nearly the same terms in _cap._ v. of the _Verba sacrae admonitionis_. [33] He is the second of the Three Companions. 3 Soc., 1; cf. 1 Cel., 95; _Fior._, 1; 29, 30, 31; Eccleston, 12; _Spec._, 110a-114b; _Conform._, 51b ff.; cf. 2 Cel., 2, 4. [34] Very probably that of the Carceri, though the name is not indicated Vide 3 Soc., 1; _Fior._, 4; 10; 11; 12; 13; 16; 27; 32; _Conform._, 51b, 1 ff; _Tribul. Archiv._, t. ii., p. 263. [35] _Fior._, 11; _Conform._, 50b, 2; _Spec._, 104a. [36] Rule of 1221, chap. 7. _Omnes fratres, in quibuscumque locis fuerint apud aliquos ad serviendum, vel ad laborandum, non sint camerarii, nec cellarii, nec praesint in domibus corum quibus serviunt._ Cf. 1 Cel., 38 and 40; A. SS., p. 606. [37] 1 Cel., 103; 39; _Spec._, 28; Reg. 1221, ix.; _Giord._, 33 and 39. [38] Vide _Spec._, 34b.; _Fior._, 4. [39] All the details of this story lead me to think that it refers to Portiuncula and the hospital _San Salvatore delle Pareti_. The story is given by the _Conform._, 174b, 2, as taken from the _Legenda Antiqua_. Cf. _Spec._, 56b; _Fior._, 25. [40] In the _Speculum_, f^o 41a, this story ends with the phrase: _Qui vidit haec scripsit et testimonium perhibet de hiis_. The brother is here called _Frater Jacobus simplex_. Cf. _Conform._, 174b. [41] _Conform._, 51b, 1. Cf. 2 Cel., 2, 4; _Spec._, 110b; _Fior._, 29. * * * * * CHAPTER IX SANTA CLARA Popular piety in Umbria never separates the memory of St. Francis from that of Santa Clara. It is right. Clara[1] was born at Assisi in 1194, and was consequently about twelve years younger than Francis. She belonged to the noble family of the Sciffi. At the age when a little girl's imagination awakes and stirs, she heard the follies of the son of Bernardone recounted at length. She was sixteen when the Saint preached for the first time in the cathedral, suddenly appearing like an angel of peace in a city torn by intestine dissensions. To her his appeals were like a revelation. It seemed as if Francis was speaking for her, that he divined her secret sorrows, her most personal anxieties, and all that was ardent and enthusiastic in the heart of this young girl rushed like a torrent that suddenly finds an outlet into the channel indicated by him. For saints as for heroes the supreme stimulus is woman's admiration. But here, more than ever, we must put away the vulgar judgment which can understand no union between man and woman where the sexual instinct has no part. That which makes the union of the sexes something almost divine is that it is the prefiguration, the symbol, of the union of souls. Physical love is an ephemeral spark, designed to kindle in human hearts the flame of a more lasting love; it is the outer court of the temple, but not the most holy place; its inestimable value is precisely that it leaves us abruptly at the door of the holiest of all as if to invite us to step over the threshold. The mysterious sigh of nature goes out for the union of souls. This is the unknown God to whom debauchees, those pagans of love, offer their sacrifices, and this sacred imprint, even though effaced, though soiled by all pollutions, often saves the man of the world from inspiring as much disgust as the drunkard and the criminal. But sometimes--more often than we think--there are souls so pure, so little earthly, that on their first meeting they enter the most holy place, and once there the thought of any other union would be not merely a descent, but an impossibility. Such was the love of St. Francis and St. Clara. But these are exceptions. There is something mysterious in this supreme purity; it is so high that in holding it up to men one risks speaking to them in an unknown tongue, or even worse. The biographers of St. Francis have clearly felt the danger of offering to the multitude the sight of certain beauties which are far beyond them, and this is for us the great fault of their works. They try to give us not so much the true portrait of Francis as that of the perfect minister-general of the Order such as they conceive it, such as it must needs be to serve as a model for his disciples; thus they have made this model somewhat according to the measure of those whom it is to serve, by omitting here and there features which, stupidly interpreted, might have furnished material for the malevolence of unscrupulous adversaries, or from which disciples little versed in spiritual things could not have failed to draw support for permitting themselves dangerous intimacies. Thus the relations of St. Francis with women in general and St. Clara in particular, have been completely travestied by Thomas of Celano. It could not have been otherwise, and we must not bear him a grudge for it. The life of the founder of an Order, when written by a monk, in the very nature of things becomes always a sort of appendix to or illustration of the Rule. And the Rule, especially if the Order has its thousands of members, is necessarily made not for the elect, but for the average, for the majority of the flock.[2] Hence this portrait, in which St. Francis is represented as a stern ascetic, to whom woman appears to be a sort of incarnate devil! The biographers even go so far as to assure us that he knew only two women by sight. These are manifest exaggerations, or rather the opposite of the truth.[3] We are not reduced to conjecture to discover the true attitude of the Umbrian prophet in this matter. Without suspecting it, Celano himself gives details enough for the correction of his own errors, and there are besides a number of other documents whose scattered hints correspond and agree with one another in a manner all the more marvellous that it is entirely unintentional, giving, when they are brought together, almost all one could desire to know of the intercourse of these two beautiful souls. After the sermons of Francis at St. Rufino, Clara's decision was speedily taken; she would break away from the trivialities of an idle and luxurious life and make herself the servant of the poor; all her efforts should be bent to make each day a new advance in the royal way of love and poverty; and for this she would have only to obey him who had suddenly revealed it to her. She sought him out and opened to him her heart. With that exaltation, a union of candor and delicacy, which is woman's fine endowment, and to which she would more readily give free course if she did not too often divine the pitfalls of base passion and incredulity, Clara offered herself to Francis. It is one of the privileges of saints to suffer more than other men, for they feel in their more loving hearts the echo of all the sorrows of the world; but they also know joys and delights of which common men never taste. What an inexpressible song of joy must have burst forth in Francis's heart when he saw Clara on her knees before him, awaiting, with his blessing, the word which would consecrate her life to the gospel ideal. Who knows if this interview did not inspire another saint, Fra Angelico, to introduce into his masterpiece those two elect souls who, already radiant with the light of the heavenly Jerusalem, stop to exchange a kiss before crossing its threshold? Souls, like flowers, have a perfume of their own which never deceives. One look had sufficed for Francis to go down into the depths of this heart; he was too kind to submit Clara to useless tests, too much an idealist to prudently confine himself to custom or arbitrary decorum; as when he founded the Order of Friars, he took counsel only of himself and God. In this was his strength; if he had hesitated, or even if he had simply submitted himself to ecclesiastical rules, he would have been stopped twenty times before he had done anything. Success is so powerful an argument that the biographers appear not to have perceived how determined Francis was to ignore the canonical laws. He, a simple deacon, arrogated to himself the right to receive Clara's vows and admit her to the Order without the briefest novitiate. Such an act ought to have drawn down upon its author all the censures of the Church, but Francis was already one of those powers to whom much is forgiven, even by those who speak in the name of the holy Roman Church. Francis had decided that on the night between Palm Sunday and Holy Monday (March 18-19, 1212) Clara should secretly quit the paternal castle and come with two companions to Portiuncula, where he would await her, and would give her the veil. She arrived just as the friars were singing matins. They went out, the story goes, carrying candles in their hands, to meet the bride, while from the woods around Portiuncula resounded songs of joy over this new bridal. Then Mass was begun at that same altar where, three years before, Francis had heard the decisive call of Jesus; he was kneeling in the same place, but surrounded now with a whole spiritual family. It is easy to imagine Clara's emotion. The step which she had just taken was simply heroic, for she knew to what persecutions from her family she was exposing herself, and what she had seen of the life of the Brothers Minor was a sufficient warning of the distresses to which she was exposing herself in espousing poverty. No doubt she interpreted the words of the service in harmony with her own thoughts: