(Ibc oCbica$o

KKbraries
The ^Mysticism of St. Francis ofAssist
CYPRESSES, AND THE CHURCH OF SAN FRANCESCO, ASSISI

frontispiece
 The <Mys-tiaism of ,-.-:\'i '

:'!:!. ..'' '.':'

St. Francis
by
*^
D. H. 9 i

'with reproductions
of etchings
by Laurenzio Laurenzi

"Boston

Small) ZMaynard ^f Company

'Publishers
CYPRESSES, AND THE CHURCH OF SAN FRANCESCO, ASSISI

frontispiece
 The Mysticism of : :\\'^

St. Francis of^/ssisi

by
*/
D. H. S,NicholsGn^ illustrated
ii

with reproductions of etchings

by Laurenzio Lauren%i

"Boston

Small^ ^Majnard & Company

^Publishers
'
;
^:--v.-...

. * * c

-
* * * * *

flrf printed in Great Britain by Charles Whittingham

ant$ Griggs (Printers), Ltd., London,
 680327

'

(Contents
PAGE
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS . . . .
17
PREFACE . . . . . . .
19
CHAPTER I: Universality of the doctrine of self-
annihilation An apparent contraction, and its
possible causes The self in modern psychology :
the self as known and the self as knower The
repertory of selves and the necessity for choice
The division into selves is arbitrary: its purpose
is to gain clearness of comprehension The two
selves in mysticism Body, Soul, and Spirit The
interaction of the I and the selected self Views
of the mystics Theologia Germanica Molinos
Lady Julian St . Paul Lopukhin Conclu-

CHAPTER
......
sionsChrist as the Higher Self Annihilation
of the lower self
II: Self-annihilation the negative side of
23

1
St.Francis life His view of it in general His
method of attributing nothing to the lower self
His avoidance of unnecessary eccentricity And
fearlessnesswhere eccentricity was demanded
His struggle against shyness as a tendency of the
lower self His avoidance of praise And accept-
ance of blame His condemnation of spiritual
envy as proceeding from the lower self His con-
ception of self-annihilation making for an interior
largeness-^-His fight against spiritual compla-
cency The new birth and the virtues True
independence is
dependence on God . .
43
5
 Sf. Francis of Assis i
PAG!
CHAPTER III: The monastic vows subdivisions of
the doctrine of self-annihilation Obedience the
subjugation of the will to separateness Two
methods of universalizing the will, by intensifica-
tion and denial The second that of mysticism
The substitution of the will of another for the
personal will The Church as an already consti-
tuted authority for the Catholic The mystic's
need for actual experience not inconsistent with
the attempt to suppress the personal will His
access to a higher court than that of the Church
This occurs only at certain stages The office of
the Church until they have been reached The
mystic's desire for universality as against the
exclusiveness of the Churches His resulting
disregard for them at certain times But he is an
individual as well as a mystic Examples of
obedience to the divine will rather than that of the
Church from the life of St. Teresa As to her
method of prayer And the monastery of St.
Joseph Her own belief as to her obedience
Her assertions of certainty Treatment of mysti-
cism by the Church Contempt Suppression
Assimilation
cism Its value and danger ....
The Church's limitation of mysti-

CHAPTER IV: The vows the founda-

three monastic
and Order Obedience
tion of St. Francis* life
and chivalry True obedience and the simile of
the corpse This is on the negative side of pro-
gress Obedience and the gratification of the
personal will St. Francis' distinftions in this
connection His realization of the danger of
appropriation The Tree of the Knowledge of
6
 Contents
/ > PAGE
Good and Evil His view of the sense of personal j

achievement God the Doer Obedience to un-

spoken commands St. Francis* subjection of his
own will and his renunciation of the leadership of
the Order His request for the appointment of
someone whom he should obey His recognition
of an authority above the Church Examples of
his independence in details His submission to
the Church not unbroken The approval of the
First Rule The Indulgence of the Portiuncula
St. Francis not always successful in the struggle
against the Church's formalism The Hugoline
Rule for the Poor Ladies, and the Second Rule
His committal of the Order to the Church His
view of the use of authority as compared with
humility Apparently conflicting views of obedi-
ence due to his conception of it as a means only
His reverence for the First Rule Its observ-
ance higher than obedience as such St. Fran-
cis' unorthodox view of
penance His attitude
towards the priesthood His respect for the
priests as administrators of the Sacrament His
desire to keep the peace with them His respect
for the Church St. Francis concerned with lifef
rather than dogma His conformity as evidenced'
by the Rules Submission and freedom .
83

CHAPTER V The importance of attention as direct-

:

ing desire The power of whole-hearted desire

The secret of the saints Poverty a means of
avoiding division of desire Literal poverty and
detachment Willingness essential to poverty
Poverty without it of no avail Poverty a fight
against all tendencies to appropriation It stands

7
 St. Francis of Assist

for a redirection of attention and rests on a

revaluation Detachment superior to literal pov-
erty Detachment neither indifference nor insen-
sibility Two aspects of detachment, negative
and positive -The greater difficulty of detach-
ment Summing up . .

CHAPTER VI : General Franciscan view of poverty

The sources of St. Francis' conception of poverty
The imitation of Christ The personification
of poverty Its effect on the world The growth
of the conception The declaration Rome
San Damiano The Disinheritance Rivo Torto
and absolute non-ownership Destruction of the
houses at the Portiuncula and Bologna All
things belong to God and are therefore to be held
in common The novice and the psalter The
gift of property the return of a loan Ownership
and theft Property as a hindrance to love As
unduly occupying the attention As promoting
disunion Willing poverty and union Man as
a pilgrim and an exile The profession of poverty
necessitates begging All things an alms A
limit to begging The modern disapproval of
begging The brethren earned their livelihood
and made a return for what they begged .

CHAPTER VII: The larger concern of poverty It

stands for the subjugation of the intellect to the
spirit Two lines of defence for this position
The argument from the nature of the intellect and
its inherent limitations The argument from
experience Contemplation a state into which the.
working of the intellect does not enter Contem-
plation preceded by meditation Philosophical
8
 Contents
PAGE

support of this position M. Bergson's view of

the original purpose of the intellect Its dissection
of matter Its difficulty when dealing with ideas
It cannot think becoming, or comprehend life

Comparison with Ruysbroeck and the Cloud of

Unknowing- A faculty superseding intellect
M. Bergson on instinct and intelligence Intui-
tion in man Comparison with mysticism-
Individual and universal consciousness The step
beyond reason The awakening of the poten-
tialitiesof intuition by going within The diffi-
culty of describing spiritual experience in terms
of reason Intuition as revealing the unity of
spiritual life The one life behind manifestation
Eckartshausen and intuition Conclusion .
\ 152
CHAPTER VIII: St. Francis as poet and the avoid-
ance of intellectualism His contempt for learn-
ing not over-emphasized Learning and pride-
Intellectual appreciation and vital understanding
The school at Bologna and the Chapter of Mats
The knowledge of the mind and the knowledge
of the heart according to St. Francis The perfect
Minister General and learning Appointment of
St. Anthony of Padua as reader of
theology The
schools and simplicity Extremes of simplicity
St. Francis and the limitations of the intellect

Learning and tribulation The intellect and

prayer Learning and the tendency to appropria-
tion The intuitive faculty in St. Francis .
174
CHAPTER IX: Freedom and subjection in the
monastic vows The body and the emotions
The body as symbolizing division and so the
lower self The inability of the senses to cognize
9
 St. Francis of Assisi
PA.GE
God This inferiority necessitates control
Asceticism based on this need for control The
suggestion of transmutation Certain points in
common with asceticism Both concerned with
desire rather than with action Different methods
of arriving at a common end Temporary sup-
pression and fulfilment The demand for abstin-
ence from sexual activity rests on a fear of exag-
geration and over-attention The difficulty of
dedication The normal selfishness of sexual
desire . . . . . . .
.190
CHAPTER X: St.Francis and monasticism His
recognition of the need for asceticism It pro-
duces peace His first realization of the need for
physical control St. Francis and the
lepers
His restraint of the bodily appetites Doubt of its
continuing necessity St. Francis' dislike of too
strict legislation His avoidance of the extremes
of traditional asceticism His teaching as to the
danger of exaggeration His admission of his own
I too
great severity His recognition of the sanctity
* and value of the
body The body as symbolizing
the lower self for St. Francis Examples of his
"
use of" body in this sense His willing accept-
ance of physical hardships His teaching and
practice as regards the acceptance of pain St.
Francis and chastity Jacqueline of Settesoli
St. Clare St. Francis' struggle with desire
Woman as the spouse of Christ .
. . . 200
CHAPTER XI Love as motive the positive side of the
:

method of mysticism The love of God for man

and of man for God The universality of love
Its selflessness Its source the spirit Continual
10
 Contents
PAGE
opportunities for its the world
exercise in
Human and spiritual love Rarity of complete
selflessness in human love Its exclusiveness

Universality The dependence of human love on

sympathy Its points in common with spiritual
love A preparation therefor, as meditation for
contemplation The
mystic's humility grounded
in love Spiritualexperience his particular
domain Variety of such experiences They
cause no pride in the mystic Mystical pheno-
mena not essential St. John of the Cross Lady
Julian The mystic's desire to avoid the way of
psychic phenomena Evidence of writers on

..........
mystical theology
love
This desire an implication of
225

CHAPTER XII: Love the motive of St. Francis' life

The incident of the leper The gifts to the
poor Love as the source of joy The glad
acceptance of life and the need for reform Such
acceptance founded on a love for God St.
Francis and the welcome of temptation His
rejoicing at hardships and his continual joy His
veneration for the love of God His prayer for
love His insistence on joy among his com-
panions Joy founded on love as a protection
against sin Gladness and asceticism Prayer a
source of spiritual joy The selflessness of St.
Francis' attitude towards mystical experience
His reticence concerning it exemplified in the
case of the Stigmata His fear of personal adula-
tion and of an exaggerated belief in an external
sign His teaching as to the folly of mentioning
mystical experiences His appreciation and
ii
 St. Francis of Assist
PAGE
for a redirection of attention and rests on a
revaluation Detachment superior to literal pov-
erty Detachment neither indifference nor insen-
sibility Two aspects of detachment, negative
and positive The greater difficulty of detach-
ment Summing up . . . . .118
CHAPTER VI : General Franciscan view of poverty-
The sources of St. Francis' conception of poverty
The imitation of Christ The personification
of poverty Its effect on the world The growth
of the conception The declaration Rome
San Damiano The Disinheritance Rivo Torto
and absolute non-ownership Destruction of the
houses at the Portiuncula and Bologna All
|

I
things belong to God and are therefore to be held
iin common The novice and the psalter The
gift of property the return of a loan Ownership
and theft Property as a hindrance to love As
unduly occupying the attention As promoting
disunion Willing poverty and union Man as
a pilgrim and an exile The profession of poverty
necessitates begging All things an alms A
limit to begging The modern disapproval of
begging The brethren earned their livelihood
and made a return for what they begged . .
129
CHAPTER VII: The larger concern of poverty It
stands for the subjugation of the intellect to the
spirit Two lines of defence for this position
The argument from the nature of the intellect and
its inherent limitations The argument from
experience Contemplation a state into which the
working of the intellect does not enter Contem-
plation preceded by meditation Philosophical
8
 Contents
PAGE

support of this position M. Bergson's view of

the original purpose of the intellect Its dissection
of matter Its difficulty when dealing with ideas
It cannot think becoming, or comprehend life

Comparison with Ruysbroeck and the Cloud of

Unknowing- A faculty superseding intellect
M. Bergson on instinct and intelligence Intui-
tion in man Comparison with mysticism-
Individual and universal consciousness The step
beyond reason The awakening of the poten-
tialities of intuition
by going within The diffi-
culty of describing spiritual experience ,in terms
of reason Intuition as revealing the unity of
spiritual life The one life behind manifestation
Eckartshausen and intuition Conclusion .
\ 152
CHAPTER VIII: St. Francis as poet and the avoid-
ance of intellectualism His contempt for learn-
ing not over-emphasized Learning and pride-
Intellectual appreciation and vital understanding
The school at Bologna and the Chapter of Mats
The knowledge of the mind and the knowledge
of the heart according to St. Francis The perfect
Minister General and learning Appointment of
St. Anthony of Padua as reader of
theology The
schools and simplicity Extremes of simplicity
St. Francis and the limitations of the intellect

Learning and tribulation The intellect and

prayer Learning and the tendency to appropria-
tion The intuitive faculty in St. Francis .
174
CHAPTER IX: Freedom and subjection in the
monastic vows- The body and the emotions
The body as symbolizing division and so the
lower self The inability of the senses to cognize
9
 St. Francis of Assisi
PAGE
God This inferiority necessitates control
Asceticism based on this need for control The
suggestion of transmutation Certain points in
common with asceticism Both concerned with
desire rather than with action Different methods
of arriving at a common end Temporary sup-
pression and fulfilment The demand for abstin-
ence from sexual activity rests on a fear of exag-
geration and over-attention The difficulty of
dedication The normal selfishness of sexual
desire . . . . . . .
.190
CHAPTER X: St.Francis and monasticism His
recognition of the need for asceticism It pro-
duces peace His first realization of the need for
physical control St. Francis and the
lepers
His restraint of the bodily appetites Doubt of its
continuing necessity St. Francis' dislike of too
strict legislation His avoidance of the extremes
of traditional asceticism His teaching as to the
danger of exaggeration His admission of his own
|
too great severity His recognition of the sanctity
* and value of the body The body as symbolizing
the lower self for St. Francis Examples of his
"
use of" body in this sense His willing accept-
ance of physical hardships His teaching and
practice as regards the acceptance of pain St.
Francis and chastity Jacqueline of Settesoli
St. Clare St. Francis' struggle with desire
Woman as the spouse of Christ . . . . 200
CHAPTER XI Love as motive the positive side of the
:

method of mysticism The love of God for man

and of man for God The universality of love
Its selflessness Its source the spirit Continual
10
 Contents
PAGE
for its the world
exercise in
opportunities
Human and spiritual love Rarity of complete
selflessness in human love Its exclusiveness

Universality The dependence of human love on

Its points in common with spiritual
sympathy
love A preparation therefor, as meditation for
contemplation Themystic's humility grounded
in love Spiritualexperience his particular
domain Variety of such experiences They
cause no pride in the mystic Mystical pheno-
mena not essential St. John of the Cross Lady
Julian The mystic's desire to avoid the way of
psychic phenomena Evidence of writers on

.........
mystical theology
love
This desire an implication of
225

CHAPTER XII: Love the motive of St. Francis' life

Theincident of the leper The gifts to the
poor Love as the source of joy The glad
acceptance of life and the need for reform Such
acceptance founded on a love for God St.
Francis and the welcome of temptation His
rejoicing at hardships and his continual joy His
veneration for the love of God His prayer for
love His insistence on joy among his com-
panions Joy founded on love as a protection
against sin Gladness and asceticism Prayer a
source of spiritual joy The selflessness of St.
Francis' attitude towards mystical experience
His reticence concerning it exemplified in the
case of the Stigmata His fear of personal adula-
tion and of an exaggerated belief in an external
sign His teaching as to the folly of mentioning
mystical experiences His appreciation and
n
 St. Francis of Assisi
PAGE
enjoyment of them His feeling of his own un-
worthiness to receive them His teaching that
they should be offered to God The avoidance of
preaching and all works
self-glorification in St.
Francis' conquest of pride by love . , .
243

CHAPTER XIII: Love seeks no reward, even from

God No question of a future compensation for a
present pain This constitutes another reason for
not desiring mystical phenomena St. Teresa and

recompense St. John of the Cross Molinos

Scaramelli Theologia Germanica It applies to all
methods of life The desire for God remains, but
is not
personal Man does not possess God, but
is
possessed by Him The idea of a reward not
merely deferred But this has been done by the
Church Yet some mystics have been ultimately
unmercenary The growth of the conception of
Pure Love in the Gospels Fenelon St. Thomas
Aquinas The early Fathers Quietism and the
One Act The fears of Roman Catholicism
Pure Love and the Unitive state A commentator
on St. Thomas Aquinas This position only
possible for certain heroic natures The influence
of mystical experience on the mystic The nature
of the experience The characteristics of the
spirit The experience brings an increase offeree
for spiritual work Such force no danger for the
mystic His increased effectiveness The result
of the experience is the criterion by which it is to
be judged The greater power of the mystic's
personality, as apart from his actions Its action
on men of
power of love
all

......
degrees of spirituality

12
It is a
266
 Contents
PAGE
CHAPTER XIV. Difficulty of a clear issue in
St. Francis* case Not a mercenary himself In-
structions to the first brethren The salvation of
the many and the glory of God Another pre-
sentation necessary for others The soul's salva-
tion A future reward held out to the world at
large The Rule of 1223 and the Letter to
All the Faithful His doubt as to his mode of
life His leaning towards a contemplative life
The active life and the width of the three Orders
Discussion and decision at Orte Return of
doubt after the attempted voyage to Palestine
Decision by the prayers of Clare and Sylvester
St. Francis and the mixed life The retirement
on Lake Trasimene Frequency and continua-
tion of such retirements Greccio and Alvernia
His recommendations to the brethren Rule for
a Hermitage St. Francis' mystical experience
and the increase of power San Damiano
Monte Alvernia The Canticle of the Sun His
experience of what he preached His personal
influence The Bishop of Ostia The natural/
philosopher ^ The effect of St. Francis' preaching 292

God is the end The purpose of all

preparations Symbolisms of the Union Their
The conception of God must
signification vary
God immanent in man and nature St. |

Catherine of Genoa and the indwelling Deity

Likeness in kind, but difference in degree Man
represented by his ability to be conscious of things
His relations to the world vary with his states
of consciousness The desideratum an intensifica-
'tion of consciousness Spiritual progress a pro-
13
 Sf. Francis of Assist
PAGE
gress in consciousness of God Union and Unity
Belief in and knowledge of the spirit The
need of symbolism . . . . . .
315

CHAPTER XVI St. Francis and the quest of God

:

Lack of definite teaching St. Francis and the

divinity of the Real Self His view of the spirit in
man The spirit as Christ St. Francis and self-
knowledge His conception of man's symbolic
relation to Christ Mother, brother, and spouse
St. Francis and the office of the spirit The
spirit and the Eucharist St. Francis and the
experience of the spirit His desire for the Union
The prayer therefor Prayer as the way to
# Union St. Francis* paraphrase of the Lord's

/ Prayer His consciousness of the presence of

/ Christ His knowledge of Christ . .
-3^9
CHAPTER XVII The immanence of God in nature
:

God as Substance Theologia Germanica The

One and the Many Lady Julian and God as the
universal Substance St. Catherine of Genoa and
God as Essence Spirit the link between all things
Realization of oneness dependent on some
knowledge of the spirit indwelling Its variation
with that knowledge Difference of emphasis on
the two conceptions Brotherhood the necessary
result of the realization of oneness St. Catherine
of Genoa Lady Julian
Revelation and revelling ....
Theologia Germanica
344
CHAPTER XVIII The sacramentalism of the mind
:

and of the spirit St. Francis and symbolism

"
His tenderness for lambs " The baleful sow
1 St. Francis and the symbolism of nature
1
Water
14
 Contents
PAGE
and Fire and Light His dislike of destruction
The poor as symbolizing Christ St. Francis'

recognition of the Christ in all men And his

realization of their brotherhood St. Francis and
the robbers His peacemaking His desire for
unity among the brethren His courtesy and
sympathy The sacramentalism of the spirit
The effect of temperament St. Francis' tempera- ^^
mental love of nature His sacramental view at
the end of his life Man nothing without God
St. Francis' biographers and his realization of the
one life The Canticle of the Sun His sympathy 1

with all animals The sermons to the creatures!

Conclusion . . . .
-357
APPENDIX Francis and the necessity of penance

........
: St.
379
INDEX 385
 Illustrations
TO FACE
PAGE
CYPRESSES, AND THE CHURCH OF SAN FRANCESCO,
ASSISI Frontispiece
THE ROCCA MAGGIORE AND ASSISI 84
THE TOWERS OF ASSISI 130
FROM THE BELFRY OF SAN GIOVANNI, GUBBIO 2OO
THE UMBRIAN PLAIN, FROM ASSISI 244
THE CHURCH OF SAN FRANCESCO, ASSISI, FROM THE
NORTH 292
PONTE DEL GALLO, ASSISI 330
SUNSET AT GUBBIO

B
 "Preface
HE STATE OF FRANCISCAN LITERA-
at the present day is such as to cause some
jture
in the mind of any lover of St. Francis
[hesitation
(who may feel moved to add to its already
enormous bulk. Both the saint himself and the far-
reaching movement to which he gave rise have been
treated from so many and so different standpoints, and with
so vast an expenditure of erudition and enthusiasm, that at
first sight the field of research would seem to have been
exhausted. And so far as actual biography the consider-
ation of the events of St. Francis' life and the general
character that they evidence is concerned, it is clear that
the three great biographies of M. Sabatier, M. Joergensen,
and Father Cuthbert have left unnoticed nothing of im-
portance to our understanding of St. Francis and his times.
They are authoritative in the best sense, in that they com-
bine a sympathy for the personality of their subject with a
precise and profound knowledge of the yet discovered facts
concerning him. To have attempted another biography,
therefore, would have been both impertinent and super-
fluous, and in preparing this study of St. Francis* mysti-
cism have not attempted to cover again the well-explored
I

ground.
This being so, it may be well to prepare the reader for
what I have attempted to do. It has long seemed to me
that the literature which concerns St. Francis has been
deficient in one
respect, and that a respect which touches
most deeply the reality of
any presentation of him and
present day. At the side of the
therefore its value for the
'
 Sf. Francis of Ass hi
detailed biographies there have been offered to the reading
public Studies which show him from a countless number
of standpoints : he has been considered as an impassioned
and far-sighted social reformer, as a great statesman, as an
obedient son of the Church, as a semi-rebel whose mission
was to reform its more salient abuses, as a tender-hearted
lover of animals and of all things that live, as an inspired
poet, as a man deeply imbued with the knightly tradition,
as a rather weak-minded if amiable enthusiast who did no
great harm but certainly no great good, as a fanatic, as a
mentally deranged neurasthenic; but, except for passing
references, I have not been able to discover that he has
been treated as a mystic. And yet, if mysticism stand for
the most real aspect of the individual, if it represent the
relation between him and the Absolute, it is in this su-
premely that lies the key to his character and so to his
actions. It will provide the clue to the main direction of
his life as well as to its details, if it be once conceded that
mysticism was a real and living force for him.
the belief that this was eminently the case with
It is in
St. Francis that I have, with much diffidence, approached
the subject. For those who are unable to believe that
mysticism is a vital and fundamental
thing, I shall seem
to have added but one more to the many one-sided and
partial studies of St. Francis to those for whom mysticism
:

is, or is becoming, an indispensable part of life I would

offer this consideration of one of the greatest of those who
have realized that all things are within. For one of the
peculiarities of man's search for God is that though the
details of its method may vary, its essentials remain un-

changed throughout the centuries. The principles which

guided St.. Francis are as true for us now and as applicable
to our needs as they were for him, and it is his amazing
success in the sempiternal quest which constitutes his
chief claim to value in the present. He has always been
20
 Preface
times an inspiration he may also be a
perhaps vaguely at
:

guide.
It is with this intention of illustrating the principles upon
which Francis moulded his life that I have chosen from
St.

among the incidents recorded in the old biographies. I

have not attempted to mention them all, feeling that a
small number which were suggestive of a certain principle
would bring that principle into greater relief than d larger
number which might obscure it. I have, in a word, tried
to make a consistent analysis rather than a romantic or a
beautiful picture. And in this connection I would add that
I have confined myself to a consideration of St. Francis'

mysticism as it applied to the whole of his life, as it was a

entire man and a guiding principle,
part and parcel of the
and have quite left aside for the moment any consideration
of the details of his inner life taken as a progression. Such
a study would be of intense interest, and would demand a
treatment of St. Francis* spiritual progress according to
the classifications of Mystical Theology, with an attempt
to show how and at what times he reached the stages
acknowledged by that science, and the effect which such
progress had on his life. It would aim at a determination
of the final point which he reached, and would necessitate
a consideration of the implications of such mystical phe-
nomena as the Stigmata as are recorded of him. There is,
I think,
ample material for such a study.
In respect of the chapters devoted to mysticism in
general, I have intended them as a tentative delimitation of
the ground. Both the word and the ideas of mysticism
have received so many and so varying interpretations,
especially during the last few years, that it seemed necessary
to provide some
general working hypothesis before pro-
ceeding to consider the mysticism of a particular individual.
I have therefore done this in alternate
chapters, taking one
subdivision of the subject in each case and then endeavour-
21
 Sf. Francis of Assist
ing to find illustrations in the case of St. Francis. I have
tried, as far as possible, to base such a hypothesis on the
records left by accredited mystics, and have so been forced
to use, in more cases than I could have wished, the unsatis-
factory because unconvincing method of quotation. I can
hardly hope to have avoided statements and points of view
which differ, sometimes radically, from others for which a
no less clear authority can be found among mystical
writers, but my hope and intention has been to state the
case in a way which is consistent with the main doctrines of
Christian mysticism.
With this I will leave the reader to the consideration of
the subject itself, adding only the wish with which St.
Francis greeted those whom he met on his journeys
through the world : // Signore vi dia -pace.

D. H. S. NICHOLSON.

22
 Chapter One
MONG THE MANY POINTS WHICH
are common to the literature of mysticism, there
is none which recurs with greater regularity, or
stands out with greater clearness, than that which
inculcates the necessity of the annihilation of the self. It is
not a doctrine which is confined to any one school of
thought, nor is it dependent on any particular creed: the
differences of theology, however fundamental they may be,
which are as the signs of division between one church and
another, do not affect the unanimity with which it has been
insisted upon as a sine qua non to spiritual life of any real or
vital kind. In a word, the necessity for the annihilation of
the self as precedent to that knowledge of God which is
the sole end and aim of all mysticism is a fundamental
characteristic of mystical teaching.
Since, then, this necessity is common to the East and
the West, to Christendom and Islam, to the most. ancient
mysteries as to the latest schools of the present century
which have any claim to be regarded as schools of spiritual
instruction, it is peculiarly vital that its meaning should
be beyond question. But to the consternation of those
who attempt to gain a hurried comprehension of the ideas
underlying the mystical position, there is found another
doctrine no less widespread and no less fundamental which
appears to stand in direct opposition to that of self-annihila-
tion. The command " Know thyself" brings with it the
hallowing of many centuries and the implication that in
such knowledge is to be found a treasure of eternal worth.
If the self be that which is at all costs to be
destroyed, if,
 St. Francis of ^4ssis i
as has been be the nest of sin, 1 how can
said, self love
such teaching be reconciled with the recommendation that
self knowledge is supremely to be desired ? Is the self to
be sought and discovered only that it may eventually be
is the command to be interpreted as meaning
destroyed,
"
Know thyself in order to annihilate thyself," or is some
resolution of the apparent antithesis possible ?
"
It belongeth properly to us," says one who is among
"
the clearest lights of mysticism, both by nature and by
grace, to long and desire with all our mights to know our
2
Self in fulness of endless joy." This answer is in itself

enough to show that destruction not the purpose of the

is

search, but that from one point of view it is in the very

knowledge of the self that all felicity consists.

It is plain that an apparent contradiction exists, and if a

reconciliation is to be found it must evidently be sought in
the meanings attributed to the word which is the cause of
the disagreement. What, then, is the idea of the self
underlying the writings of the mystics ?
It is clear, in the first place, that they must either have
used the word in widely different senses or have regarded
man as having within him two selves which they conceived
respectively as higher and lower, as true and false, as
desirable and detestable. With regard to the supposition
that the word was employed to designate completely
different ideas, so that one writer would regard it as
synonymous with all that is evil while another would con-
ceive it to be the Ultima Thule of all desire, it is inherently
improbable that such an inconsistency should have arisen.
Throughout all their history the mystics have been trying
to say but one thing, and though their symbols and their
language have differed vastly they have all, within certain
wide limits, been concerned with one process, and that a
1
Lopukhin, Some Chara&eristics of the Interior Church, chap, iv (3).
2
Julian
of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love, chap. xlvi.
24
 St. Francis of Assist
process
which the data have been unchanging. The
in

employment of so vital a term for two purposes diametric-

ally opposed
would suggest a gratuitous obscuration from
which mysticism must be absolved even by its most con-
firmed antagonists, since it would stultify the purpose of all
consistent interpretation of
mystical texts by rendering any
them impossible. And inasmuch as the mystics have
ever, in their writings, been endeavouring to throw some
light on the
essential process of their lives so that others

might see and understand more clearly for themselves, it is

them with a proceeding which would
difficult to credit
make such writings not only useless, but misleading.
The alternative supposition is that the mystics have
regarded man, for purposes and in a sense that will appear
more clearly later on, as having two selves.
In what sense, then, is the self to be taken, and to what
reality in man does it correspond ? When modern psy-
chology considers the self as a whole it
begins by dis-
criminating between two aspects of it, which are respect-
ively the self as knower and the self as known. The self as
known, or the empirical ego, is the idea which a man has
of himself and presents as a concept to the self as knower.
This presentation of my self (as known) to my self (as
knower) is evidently not a fixed quantity. Myown view
of my self to-day may be as different from my view of
my
self
yesterday as light from darkness : whereas yesterday
I
may have regarded myself as incompetent and fore-
doomed to failure in anything I attempted, to-day I may
consider myself as eminently fitted for the work in hand
and assured of success therein. Further, my view of
my-
self differs
according to my pretensions ; if I desire to be a
world-renowned athlete and am, as a matter of fact,
incapable of walking a mile under half an hour, I shall
undoubtedly have a very low and depressed view of my own
capacities: whereas on the other hand, if the athletic ideal
25
 St. Francis of Assisi
does not attract me at all, I may be physically no more
efficient and yet have a view of myself, on other grounds
and. with reference to other pretensions, of a completely
different character. There is, then, between these empiri-
cal egos or views of myself a certain conflict, and a resulting
I cannot, for example, be both an
necessity of choice.
athletic champion and a gourmand; it is improbable that
I can be both a Don Juan and a saint; and yet all these are

possible ideals which I could put before me before attempt-

ing to attain to any of them. But to attain to one, the other
must be forsaken I am compelled to make a choice and,
if I am to reach the end I have put before me, to adhere

resolutely to the course I have chosen and resist all inclina-

tions to swerve in the direction of any of the other once
1
possible ideals.
Man has, then, a whole array of possible selves, or views
of his self as one thing or another, from which it is impera-
tive that he make a choice: "the seeker of his truest,

strongest, deepest self must review the list carefully, and

2
pick out the one on which to stake his salvation." But
who or what is it that makes the choice ? The answer, it
would seem, can only be the self as knower. But what is
the self as knower ? Here psychologists are less certain of
their ground. Their general conclusion (though such con-
clusions are ever subject to revision as knowledge increases)
would seem to be :

i. That the self as knower is not an unchanging and

stationary element in the constitution of man, but rather a
part of his consciousness which is
in a state of perpetual
flux and change. It is a continuous succession of states,
each of which is different from that of the last moment but
appropriates both it and all that In such
it contained.

1
See W. James, Textbook of Psychology, pp. 183, 186.
2
Ibid., p. 1 86.
 St. Francis of Assist
appropriation and in the fact that the States of conscious-
ness of one moment have a functional identity with those
of the moment before (inasmuch as they know the same
objects and react upon them in an identical way, whether
those objects be entirely foreign or empirical egos) is found
an adequate explanation of the sense of personal identity
which every individual possesses.
2. That the empirical egos already mentioned vary

directly as the self (as knower) varies, since they are part
and parcel of the one mass of consciousness. 1

Among the objects presented to this ever-changing

stream of consciousness there is one category with which it
feels a closer affinity than with all the rest: the category,
that is, comprising the repertory of selves or empirical egos
from which it is called upon to make a choice. It has been
seen that this repertory constitutes the potentialities of
which man is capable, and the crisis for him lies always in
the choice that he makes. It is a question of the selection
of those ideals towards which his energies shall be directed,
and with which he shall identify himself, and they range
from the highest to the lowest from the most universal to
the smallest and the most circumscribed.
It must
constantly be borne in mind, however, that the
attribution to a man of many possible selves is at most
arbitrary and provisional, since they represent nothing
more clearly demarcated than the different ways of being of
which he is capable, and a considerable danger attaches to
any view in which the different selves are regarded as fixed
or ascertained. But
just because the selves represent such
fluid and unseizable
things as ways of being, it is a matter
of considerable convenience to strike
them, as it were,
into in order that a clearer compre-
momentary immobility
W. James, Textbook of Psychology, pp. 200 et seq. See H. R. Mar-
shall, Consciousness,
chaps, i, iii, v, xxiii-xxvi.
27
 St. Francis of Assist
hension may be gained. It is a method sanctioned by most
of the sciences, though it be abused by the majority of them
before the end. It is easier, for example, to get a grip of a
country's history by dividing up the moving panorama of
events into clear and well defined periods, so that the
historian comes to speak of a Victorian age and a Georgian
age, than by regarding them as an unbroken flow; but the
error of imagining that there is any clear line of demarca-
tion between one such age and another is generally avoided.
So with the various ways of being of which a man is
capable: they may be divided up into any number of
so-called selves as long as the inclination to imagine them
as marked off with definite boundaries and frontiers, the
one from the other, is successfully resisted.
This conception of a choice from among a number of
possible selves would seem to throw some light on the
question which was asked at the outset, as to the idea of the
self underlying the writings of the mystics. The two
doctrines of the necessity for annihilating the self on the
one hand and of its high sanctity on the other which
appeared at first sight to be in hopeless contradiction, are
seen to be so no longer if they be taken as referring to two
aspects of one general subject.
It isnot suggested that any very clear or any common
psychological scheme was present in the minds of the
mystics when they wrote, yet as a whole they would cer-
tainly seem to have been conscious of the necessity for a
choice from among the hierarchy of the selves or ways of
being, and to have begun by making a large general
division between all the possibilities. Instead of regarding
each conceivable self separately, they grouped them into
two different categories between which all the possibilities
were divided. They dichotomized, that is, all the possible
ways of being and considered each section as the antithesis
of the other, arid the two were, in respect of each other, pre-
28
 Sf. Francis of As sis i
eminently higher and lower* It may serve the present
to take some such conception as has been sug-
purpose
and to test it by applying to it some of the state-
gested
ments of the mystics themselves.
But before doing so it remains to be discovered what
in man were held, consciously or unconsciously,
principles
the mystics to correspond to the various parts: the
by
and lower selves and that which directs its energies
higher
to either of them.
The language which has been used to refer to the consti-
tution of man has naturally differed largely according to
time and place, but it seems that one of the oldest and most
general sets of terms will correspond very generally with
the position that has been outlined. In the language of
body, soul, and spirit, the term spirit, as being the highest
principle in man and that which is ardently to be desired,
corresponds very closely to the idea of the higher self. For
such of the mystics as clothed their desire and their experi-
ence in a Christian dress, it was, without any doubt or
1
uncertainty, Christ. The lower self is represented by the
term body, but it is evident that in such a connection the
word is taken in a very wide sense. Obviously it will stand
for very much more than the actual
physical vehicle; it
must include, for example, the sensations which are re-
ceived by means of the physical senses, the desires which
are more
particularly those of the body, and in fact all
desires and emotions which, while
they are not strictly
specifically spiritual. Such
physical, cannot be regarded as
a division is
admittedly arbitrary, as are indeed all divisions
of man and his selves, and raises the wide
question of what
s to be attributed to the and lower selves respect-
higher
ively. For the moment it must suffice to say that the hall-

See chap, xv, where the

implications of this supposition are dis-
cussed.

29
 Sf. Francis of Assisi
mark of all that was attributed to the lower self was limita-
1
tion and, as a result thereof,
separateness.
With and body representing the higher and lower
spirit
aspects of theself, the term soul remains to be used for that
which directs its energies to either of them ; for the I, the
self as knower. According to the psychologists, it will be
remembered, the self as knower is an elusive, ever-changing
thing; it will vary with every variation of the objects pre-
sented to it and therefore with every variation of the differ-
ent selves, inasmuch as they are presented to it as objects,
no less than of things more obviously foreign to it. It will
be a state of consciousness, for which there must be some-
thing of which it may be conscious a slate which by the
:

definition it is not possible to imagine apart from conscious-

ness. The question of primary importance for each man is
to decide in what direction these states of consciousness
are to be directed.
Leaving aside for the moment that whole class of pre-
sentations or things of which the I is conscious, which fall
under the general head of being foreign to it, and con-
sidering only the presentations of the possible selves which
are made to the I, it is not difficult to see what was the
inevitable answer of the mystics to this question of the
proper direction of the states of consciousness. They
replied in effect that the business of man was to seek out
his higher self, and that to do this he was to annihilate his
lower self, the supposition being that he might follow after
either of these things but not both entirely. It is the

impossibility of serving both God and Mammon, with any

prospect of success along either line.
It will also be remembered that from the psychological

point of view both the empirical egos or selves, and the I

which directs its energies to the higher or lower categories
thereof, are equally parts of the one consciousness. They
1
See further, chap. ix.

30
 Sf. Francis of Assist
vary directly as each other, and it follows that if the selves
which are known generically as the higher self be followed,
the I itself will change accordingly. It is by the identifi-
cation of the I with the higher self that the I will be formed
according to its pattern ; it is a process of gradual moulding
of the flowing spates of consciousness to a definitely chosen
ideal, and, as the process continues, the higher self is made
more and more a part and parcel of the states of conscious-
ness which in the last analysis are the I of every man. In
fact, when the forces of the I have been so directed to one
or other of the selves as to effect a practical identification
therewith, the states of consciousness which constitute that
I become so tinged with the tendencies of the self that has
been selected that it is a matter of considerable difficulty
for them to take any other direction.
On turning to the writings of the mystics themselves for
the purpose of testing the validity of the views suggested
above, such voluminous and repeated references to the
annihilation of the self are found that it is only possible to
give a few of the more characteristic examples. An un-
known writer of the fifteenth century plunges direct into
the very heart of the matter in the first few pages of his
"
book. He quotes St. Paul's saying that when that which
is
perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done
away," and explains that that which is in part, or the
creature, cannot know the perfect. He then puts to him-
"
self the question : Since the Perfect cannot be known nor
apprehended of any creature, but the soul is a creature, how
"
can it be known by the soul ? and answers that it cannot
be known "by the soul as a creature. We
mean it is
impossible to the creature in virtue of its creature-nature
* ' *
and qualities, that by which it saith I and myself.'
For in whatsoever creature the Perfect shall be known,
therein creature-nature, qualities, the I, the Self and the
like, must all be lost and done away. ... So long as we
 St. Francis of Assist
think much of these things, cleave to them with love, joy,
pleasure or desire, so long remaineth the Perfect unknown
to us." 1 The self which here is to be done away bears the

distinguishing mark of the lower self as outlined above

" ' ' * "
it is that by which it saith I and myself,' or in other
words it is that sense of limitation and separateness by
which a man regards himself as set over against or distin-
guished from the res! of the world. While such a senti-
ment exists the Perfect is unknown to us the soul cannot
identify itself with the activities of "
the higher self while
such a sense of selfhood remains. Now mark: when the
creature claimeth for its own anything good, such as
Substance, Life, Knowledge, Power, and in short whatever
we should call good, as if it were that, or possessed that, or
that were itself, or that proceeded from it, as often as this
cometh to pass, the creature goeth astray. What did the
devil do else. . . . ? This setting up of a claim and his I
and Me
and Mine, these were his going astray and his fall.
And thus it is to this day." 2 The quality of the lower self
of man which gives rise to the necessity for its absolute
destruction is then just its selfhood, but the quality of the
higher self which makes it the proper aim of all endeavour
is
precisely its selflessness. The two are therefore mutually
exclusive, and for the soul to follow both is an impossibility,
"
or as the Theologla Germanica says: the created soul of
man hath also two eyes. The one is the power of seeing
into eternity, the other of seeing into time and the creatures
. . but these two eyes of the soul of man cannot both per-
.

form their work at once." 3 It would be difficult to imagine

a more precise illustration of the thesis that the soul is as it
were poised between the higher and the lower selves, able
to identify itself with either of them, but never with both.
The same author insists with no less force on the desira-
1 a
ii.
Theologia Germanica, chap. i. Ibid., chap.
3
Ibia., chap. vii.

32
 St. Francis of Assisi
bilityof knowing the other part of ourselves the higher or
"
spiritual part. For, of a truth, thoroughly to know
oneself, is above all art, for it is the highest art. If thou
knowest thyself well, thou art better and more praiseworthy
before God, than if thou didst not know thyself, but didst
understand the course of the heavens and of all the planets
and stars. . For it is said, there came a voice from
. .
*

heaven, saying,
'
Man, know thyself.* Thus that proverb
is still Going out were
true,
"
never so good, but staying at
home were much better.' For eternal blessedness con-
sists in one thing only, and that is a goodness which
"
needeth not to enter into the soul, for it is there already,
*
only it is
unperceived." It is interesting to notice that in
this case the supreme goodness which is synonymous with
the higher self is regarded as of one piece with the soul.
It is said to be in it, and the soul need only as it were turn
the direction of its consciousness to become aware of it.
The everlasting search consists not in going out to seek
a treasure, but in becoming conscious of what is already
within, which is the higher self or the new man. And that
"
is Christ. When dying and perishing and the like are
spoken of, it meaneth that the old man should be destroyed,
and not seek its own either in spiritual or in natural things.
For where this is brought about in a true divine light, there
the new man is born again. In like manner, it hath been
said that man should die unto himself, that is, to earthly
pleasures, consolations, joys, appetites, the I, the Self, and
all that is thereof in man. . . . Whether it be the man
himself, or any other creature, whatever it be, it must
depart and die, if the man is to be brought aright to another
mind, according to the truth He who liveth in humble
obedience and in the new man which is Christ, he is, in
1
Theologia .Germantca, chap. ix. Cf. Lady Julian, Revelations of
Divine Love^ chap, xxxix. " Peace and love are ever in us, being and work-
ing ; but we be not alway in peace and in love."
33 c
 St. Francis of Assist
like manner, the brother of Christ and the child of
God/' *
Turning from the north to the south, from the atmo-
sphere of the Friends of God to that of the Roman Church
in one of its periods of strife, we find Molinos, who after all
has been said was as true a mystic as any who received the
approbation of the official church, bearing witness "
to the
same convictions in not dissimilar language. Weeping
and lamentation are not forbidden to thy Soul ; so long as
"
in her higher part she remains resigned." Resign and
for true self-denial is harsh at
deny thyself wholly: though
the beginning, it is easy in the middle and becomes most
sweet in the end." Here are the higher self, which, invert-
"
ing his symbolism, he calls a few pages later the depth of
" " "
our Soul which is the place of our happiness ; and the
lower self from identification with which the soul must be
cut off resolutely. It is in the first of these, the depth of our
"
soul, that the Lord shows us wonders. There we ingulf
and lose our selves in the immeasurable sea of His infin-
ite goodness. .There doth reside the incomparable
. .

fruition of our Soul, and the wonderful and sweet quiet ";
"
and the second of which it is said that the Lord will not
manifest Himself in thy Soul until she be settled in self-
3
abnegation, and dead in her senses and powers." The
two selves are here regarded quite clearly as aspects of the
one soul, which must be respectively repressed and
encouraged that God may be made manifest in the higher.
They are, as has been suggested, ways of being of the soul,
and in no way to be regarded as vestures which may be
taken and cast aside at will.
point that the annihilation and
It is well to notice at this
1

resignation which are desired are not of and from the

activities of what has been termed generally the body, as
1
Tbeologia Germantca, chap. xvi.
8
Molinos, The Spiritual Guide, book iii, chaps, v-viii,
34
 St. Francis of Assist
such; but of and from identification of the desires and
interests of the soul therewith. As a condemned Quietist
it
might be expected that Molinos would omit insistence
on this vital point, but in the very book which was the
cause, or at any rate the ground, of his condemnation, he
"
wrote: Thou must know that this Annihilation (which is
the state in which the soul is capable of Transformation
and Union) if it is to be perfect in the Soul, must exist in a
man's own Judgment, in his Will, in his Works, Inclina-
tions, Desires, Thoughts and in the very Soul herself: so
that the Soul must find herself dead to her Will, Desires,
Endeavour, Understanding and Thought; willing, as if
she did not will; desiring, as if she did not desire; under-
standing, as if she did not understand;" thinking, 'as if she
did not think. ..." Such a soul lives no longer in her

self, because God lives in her .she is changed, spiritual-

. .

l
ized, transformed and deified." Here is the full force of
the mystic's conviction; the soul, dead to its lower self,
pulsates with the life of the higher self which is divine;
there is no question of a cessation of external activity, but
of an annihilation of the lower self and its concerns as the
goal towards which the forces of the soul are to be directed,
and the replacing of them by the one goal and purpose of
the life of God. So man becomes no longer an isolated
unit striving for individual ends, but a channel through
which the divine activity pours in a full unbroken stream.
"
Therefore there must be creatures, and God will have
them, to the end "that the Will may be put in exercise by
2
their means." If a man may attain thereunto, to be
unto God as his hand is to a man, let him be therewith
3
content, and not seek farther."
But it is in the writings of the Lady Julian, an anchoress
of Norwich who lived in the fourteenth century without
1
Molinos, The Spiritual Gulde^ book iii, chap. xix.
3 3
Theokgia Germanica, chap. li. /#</., chap. liv.

35
 St. Francis of Assist
any taint or suspicion of heresy, that the conception of the
two selves, the higher of which is divine, is found in per-
haps its fullest
expression. After speaking of a moment of
indecision during which she debated within herself whether
or no she should withdraw her attention from the crucifix
"
on which it was concentrated, she says: Repenting and
willing choice be two contraries which I felt both in one
at that time. And these be [of our] two parts; the one
outward, the other inward. The outward part is our
deadly flesh-hood . . the inward part is an high, blissful
.

1
life, which is all in peace and in love." She adds that the
inward part rules over the outward, and does not concern
itself with the will of that outward part: but the inward
"
shall draw the outward, and both shall be oned in bliss."
For in the lasl: analysis all the parts are one ; the higher and
the lower and that which is capable of being identified with
"
either. They form a trinity in unity. And as anent our
Substance and our Sense part, both together may rightly be
called our Soul : and that is because of the oneing that they
"
have in God." Our nature that is the higher part is knit
to God, in the making; and God is knit to our nature that
is the lower part, in our flesh-taking: and thus in Chrisl: our

two natures are oned. For the Trinity is comprehended

2 "
in Chrisl:. . . ." Again : In every soul that shall be saved
is a
Godly Will that never assented to sin, nor ever shall.
there is a beaslly will in the lower
Right as part that may
will no good, right so there is a Godly Will in the higher

part, which will is so good that it may never will evil, but
ever good. And therefore we are that which He loveth
and endlessly we do that which Him pleaseth." 3
1
Julian, Revelations of Divine Love, chap. xix.
3
Ibid., chaps. Ivi-lvii.
3
Ibid., chap, xxxvii. Cf. chap, liii, where Lady Julian again speaks
" For that same
of the Godly will that never assented to sin, and says,
kind [man's nature] that Heaven shall be filled with behoveth needs, of
36
 St. Francis of Assist
In this extracl: Lady Julian almost personifies the two
aspe&s or ways of being of the soul as the two wills of the
two parts of the soul, evidently regarding the soul as able
to identify itself with either of them. The two parts are
clearly mutually exclusive, inasmuch as one of them is
incapable of good as the other is incapable of evil, and it is
when the soul identifies herself with the latter that we are
considered as doing that which is pleasing to God. There
can be no doubt as to her view of the soul's capacity to
effect this identification, for a little later she speaks of" our

changeable Sense-soul, which seemeth now one [thing],

now other,: according as it taketh of the [higher or lower]
parts."
1
But as long as we are confined to the life of our
-

sense-soul so long, that is, as the only communications

which our consciousness is capable of receiving are those
which come by way of the senses we cannot know what
"
our Self really is. And when we verily and clearly see
and know what our Self is then shall we verily and clearly
see and know our Lord God in fulness of joy. ... may We
have knowing of our Self in this life by continuant help"
and virtue of our high Nature." 2
Since it is by the help of our higher self that we shall
in the fulness of time come to the
knowledge thereof,
it is
regarded as exercising a continual attraction on the
soul, withdrawing it from identification with the lower
"
or bodily
part. For the life and the virtue that we
have in the lower part is of the higher, and it cometh
down to us from out of the Natural love of the high self, by
grace. Atwix the life of the one and the
the working of

God's rightfulness, so to have been knit and oned to Him, that therein
was kept a Substance which might never, nor should, be parted from
Him."
1
Julian, Revelations of Divine Love, chap. xlv.
3
72/V., chap. xlvi.

37
 St. Francis of Assist
life of the other there is right nought: for it is all one
*
love."
This is
clearly of one piece with the teaching of St. Paul.
"
That ye put off the old man . . . and be renewed in the
" 2
spirit of your mind, and that ye put on the new man :

or, in the language that has been used, let the energies of
the soul, the I, be withdrawn from identification with the
lower self and redirected to the higher self which for St.
"
Paul was Chrisl:. In such phrases as be ye transformed
"
by the renewing of your mind," reckon yourselves to be
dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus
Chrisl our Lord," the emphasis is laid on the necessity for
a conscious effort so to redirect the forces of the soul to
Chrisl: as the higher self and the indwelling manifestation
of God, that there may result a living consciousness of the
divine. St. Paul himself was conscious of the condition
in which the soul is torn between the attraction emanating
from the divine self and its tendency to identify itself with
the lower, when it is, so to speak, receiving intimations
from the spirit that its only true home is therein, and that
"
.in the lower self it is in exile. What I would, that do I
not; but what I hate that do I. . . . For I know that in
me (that is, in my flesh) dwelleth no good thing. . . . For
the good that I would I do not; but the evil which I would
not, that I do. . . . For I delight in the law of God after
the inward man but I see another law in my members,
:

1
Julian, Revelations of Divine Love, chap. Hi. In a note to a passage
which speaks of man as being " oned to the high Self above," the editor
of the Revelations of Divine Love quotes the following passage from the
" Man
Didascolon of Hugo of St. Viftor :
seeing he is not a simple
nature in one aspel of his being, which is the better, and that I may
speak more openly what I ought to speak, his very self, is immortal ; but
on the other side, which is weak and fallen, and which alone is known
to those who have no faith except in sensible things, he is obnoxious to
mortality and mutability."
a
Epistle to the Ephesians, chap, iv, 22-24.
38
 St. Francis of Assist
. who shall deliver
warring against the law of my mind "l
. .

me from the body of this death ?

And lastly in Lopukhin, a Russian official living at the
time of the French Revolution, who broke through the
trammels of officialdom into the wider life of the children
"
of God, the same eternal doctrine is formulated. The
radical method of invisibly destroying the sinful man is a

profound denial of the self, which with the help of the

spirit of love must finally be followed (so to speak) by a
denial of the denial of the self. Not only must the I not act
at all, it must not even have the feeling of its inaction, much
less be permitted to enjoy it. ... Self-love, the rule of the
2
I, is the nest of sin." Here the profound denial of the self
can only refer to the lower self as characterized by the
sense of separateness, and the help of the spirit of love by
which it is brought about is the attraction emanating from
the. higher and divine self, as the
Christ-Spirit, of which the
characteristic is the opposite of all limitation. The final
denial of the denial of the self refers to the complete substi-
tution of the higher and wider self, as that with which the
soul or I is identified, for the lower limited self; so that
being free from a consciousness which retains any hint of
limitation it may be unable to realize its own annihilation.
The mystics whose statements have been considered
may fairly be regarded as typical representatives of the
standpoint which has been restated in Christian terms at
various points in the world's history. They range from
the middle of the first century to the beginning of the nine-
teenth in point of time, and throughout the whole of
Europe in respect of place, and appear to have conceived
the spiritual constitution of man in a manner compatible
with that which was suggested at the outset. It remains to
1
Epistle to the Romans, chap, xii, 2 ; vi, n ; vii, 15-24.
I. V. Lopukhin, Some Charafteristics of the Interior Church, chap.

39
 St. Francis of Assisi
Sum up their conclusions and consider their implications
in connection with the
question of self-annihilation.
Their conclusions areclear. For the purpose of gaining
a morelucid comprehension of the various aims towards
which man can direct his energies they divided up those
aims and those possibilities into two large sections. These
sections they regarded as the two selves towards either of
which the soul or I could tend, or as two aspects or ways
of being in which activity was possible for the soul. As the
soul tended towards or identified itself with either of the
two selves or aspects, it waschanged and moulded
itself
after the form of the was chosen. The chief
self that
characteristic of the lower self was all that made for the
sense of I-hood; the soul as identified therewith became
more and more clearly marked off and separated from
everything else. In many cases this lower self was there-
fore symbolized by the body, as being, presumably, that
which brought most clearly to mind the sensation of being
shut in and cut off from other living creatures as by a wall
or barrier; and further, in all probability, as being that of
which the demands and desires and needs actually did
manifest a certain measure of exclusiveness. The claim of
I and Mine is
perhaps more evidently an attribute of the
body than of any other part of man, if for no other reason
than that its needs are more especially of those things which
are capable of being exhausted by acquisition, and it there-
fore stood as a convenient symbol by which to designate all
which bore the character of exclusiveness and limitation.
The higher self, on the other hand, was in its essence
unlimited. It was spiritual, in the sense of the Spirit which
is universal. It was divine, it was the manifestation of God

dwelling in man, calling him continually to return to his

proper home after the years of his exile.
was, in a word,
It

Christ; and therefore by means of Christ, by means of the

Real Self everlastingly present in him, man was able to be
40
 Sf. Francis of Assisi
united even during this life with the vaster Spirit which is
God. The desire of God for man is the complement of the
desire of man for God, and the man's desire is as it were
implanted in him by the desire of God it is an answer of
the soul in the firs!: dim stages of its consciousness of the
Spirit, to
that Spirit's call, as an echo responding to the
voice of Christ. For the mystics the Christ-state, the
Christ-consciousness, is that state in which and that con-
sciousness whereby man both becomes and knows his
Real and Higher Self; as that Higher Self is at all times
and can be only the Spirit of Christ which dwells in and
is a
part of man for his ultimate salvation. It has fulfilled
Its office under a hundred names and receivedthe supplica-
tions of unnumbered men for the knowledge of It they
:

have forded rivers of fire, and in knowing It have touched

the heights of all felicity: yet to all time It is one and
undivided; in It there is no hint of limitation. By a con-
vention of language It has been called a self, but its very
essence is selflessness; for a spiritual self which imports
any sense of standing over against another spiritual self is a
contradiction in terms. All Christs are one Christ, and in
consciousness therein there is no shadow of separation.
Thus, if the expressions of the mystics of Christendom
be adopted, if Christ be the only True, the only Real; if all
else be only illusion and weariness ; man is, of necessity and

emphatically, Christ, in the sense that to be anything else,

to identify himself with anything less than Spirit, is simply
not to be in the real and ultimate sense. Till that identifica-
tion be accomplished within the realm of his consciousness,
however he faint in the fervour of his longing, he is incom-
plete, unsatisfied, and unfulfilled.
But the city of God is
ringed about with great fortifica-
tions. The and the destruction of these are what
assault
the mystics have known as the annihilation of the self, and
it is to this that they have therefore turned their energies.
 St. Francis of Assist
Surely the Kingdom of Heaven suffers violence now as ever
at the hands of men, but it is a violence of sanctified and
redirected desire on the one hand, and on the other a vio-
lence of destruction wrought on the lower self. By the
very fact of the soul being directed towards and identified
with that which is divine in man in place of that which is
limited, the soul as it knew itself beforehand in its identi-
fication with that limitation is destroyed and abolished

utterly. This is the condition of re-birth of the birth of

what is literally a new man, in that from that time forward
his desires and his motives are untainted by any suspicion
of self-hood. It is a birth into a new kingdom of freedom,
of which universality is the meaning and the life.

42
 Chapter Two
ROM ONE POINT OF VIEW THE LIFE
St. Francis has the appearance of being chiefly
|of
a long and vigorous struggle to reach a state in
which his lesser self should be so completely
annihilated that the Divine Spirit would be enabled to work
freely through him without let or hindrance of any kind.
His efforts in this direction were valiant and unceasing,
but while this aspect of his life is under consideration it
should be remembered that it is the negative side of his
character which is herein in evidence: the destruction of
the lower self is definitely a means to an end, and not the
end in itself; it is a preparation for a final consummation
which is dependent thereon. The positive side of his life
is the end to which that self-annihilation is directed, and
that end, with St. Francis as with all the mystics, was the
direct knowledge of and communion with God which was
in fact the crown of all his struggles. It is this which must
follow self-conquest as the day succeeds to the night; it is
the resplendent effect of an ascertained cause, for where
there is nothing of self in the consciousness, there is God.
It is well to begin with a general statement of the view
which St. Francis himself expressed as to the value of self-
conquest. In the atmospherically true tradition which has
been handed down in the Fioretti he is described as ex-
plaining to Brother Leo the real meaning of perfect joy
while they were returning across the hills and the plain from
Perugia to Santa Maria degli Angeli below Assisi. After
enumerating a variety of achievements which were appar-
ently highly desirable the power to work miracles and
gain revelations, the force to effect conversions and to know
43
 St. Francis of Assist
the hidden properties of men and plants, and of the stars
he assured his bewildered companion that in such power
and in such knowledge was not to be found the perfection
of joy. It was not in knowledge or in good example that
it
lay, but in bearing with equanimity and unbroken peace
the evil fortunes which might arise. He drew; a vivid .

picture of the imaginary reception of himself and his com-

panion at the hands of their brethren at Santa Maria,
wherein he figured them as being ill-treated and turned
away with abuse from the shelter and food of the com-
munity, and left shivering in the cold and the snow outside,
adding that in suffering such treatment with patience and
cheerfulness was joy made perfect. The tradition relates
that he summed up the purpose of his discourse with the
"
words :And therefore hear the conclusion ; above all the
graces and gifts of-the Holy Spirit, which Christ grants to
his friends,is that of
self-conquest," and quoted the words
of St. Paul to the effect that we may glory in the cross of
tribulation and affliction, for this is our own. 1
But this
view does not depend solely on the traditional account, for
it occurs
again among the writings which are universally
admitted to be the genuine work of St. Francis. In the
fifth Admonition he
presents it again in the phraseology of
St. Paul, saying that all other things are hurtful and we
may not glory therein, but that in which we may glory
2
is in our infirmities and in the Cross. This may stand,
1
The Little Flowers of St. Francis (translation by W. Heywood), cJi. viii.
8
Writing! of St. Francis (translation by Father Paschal Robinson),
p. 10. Cf. Father Cuthbert, Life of St. Francis, p. 224, note I, where
it is suggested that the Admonition may be Brother Leo's written resume

of the parable as handed down in tradition by the Fioretti, or another

account of the same thought di&ated by St. Francis himself. The second
supposition seems the more probable. Cf. Writings, p. 3. Joergensen
(St. Francois d'dssise, sa Vie et son (Euvre, book ii, chap, iv, p. 180,
note i) suggests that the account in the Fioretti is a development of
the Admonition as written by St. Francis.

44
 St. Francis of Assist
then, as prime evidence of St. Francis' belief in the value
and necessity of self-annihilation.
But it has been seen that the very idea of self-annihila-
tion depends on a conception of there being two selves, of
which the higher demands the destruction of the lower.
The method suggested by St. Francis to bring this about
through the cessation of the soul's identification with this
lower part was to allow that part to drop out, so to speak,
in all considerations of that to which different things should
be attributed. He effected a complete dichotomy by
"
which the self had no longer any claim at all Blessed is
:

he who keeps nothing for himself, rendering to Caesar the

things that are Caesar's and to God the things that are
God's." He applied the Gospel words, that is, in a way
that left the self no title to anything whatever, for between
Caesar (who is anybody but the self) and God there is no
place left for the self. It is an illuminating
"
fact that the
words occur after the statement that the servant of God
who does not trouble himself or get angry about anything
*
lives uprightly and without sin," for the capacity of
is essentially a characteristic of the lower
getting angry part
which regards itself as set over against some other self with
regard to which anger is possible. Similarly in the tradi-
tional account St. Francis is credited with saying that every
virtue and every good thing is of God and not of the
creature, instancing himself as one of the vilest creatures
upon earth through whom God had nevertheless chosen
to do wonderful works, so that it might be clear that such
works were not of the creature's own production, but
2
directly attributable to God. In such an utter dependence

1
Writings, p. 1 3, Admonition, n. Cf. The Second Rule of the Friars
Minor, chap, vii, Writings, p. 70, where St. Francis warns the ministers to
" beware lest
they be angry or troubled on account of the sins of others,
because anger and trouble impede charity in themselves and in others,'*
2
Little Flowers, x. .

45
 St. Francis of Assist
on the divine force and in the conviction that such a force
was the vitalizing impulse behind every phenomenon was
rooted the whole of St. Francis* profound humility; he
knew that of himself he was nothing, but that God was, in
absolute fact, all.

With this feeling of the worthlessness of the lower self

goes the conviction that the spiritual part, man in his
essential aspect, is divine. It is precisely this divine part
of him which makes deification possible, when the soul is
identified, in its activity and its desires, with the Real and
Higher Self. This is not the place to consider the views
enunciated or implied by St. Francis in this connection, 1
but, as the sanctity of the higher self is the necessary
complement to the undesirability of the lower, it may be
noticed in passing that there is good evidence that he held
the spirit of man to be divine. In the beginning of the
apostrophe to man, at the end of which he exhorts him not
to glory in anything except his infirmities as attributable
to himself, he draws attention to the fact that man has been
formed to the likeness of God according to his spirit. 2
This would seem to be less a mere repetition of the state-
ment in the first chapter of Genesis that man was made
after the image of God, than what may be called a practical

application of that statement in order to bring out the fact

that in his spiritual part man is here and now essentially
divine.
If the peculiar taint and tendency of the lower part be
the desire to separate itself from the rest of the world, a
sign of its active presence will unquestionably be an inclina-
tion towards unnecessary eccentricity. To be eccentric is
not to be spiritual, though the reverse of this may very
possibly be true: sanctity is not assured either by imi-
tating the eccentricities of the saints or inventing new ones.

1 a
See below, chap. xvi. Writings, p. 10.
46
 St. Francis of Assisi
The from the generality of men, though it
desire to differ
be excusable, not
is in itself admirable unless the differ-
ence be aimed towards something higher than the general.
There is, in fact, perhaps only one thing more thoroughly
undesirable than gratuitous singularity, and that is a fear
of being singular when such a thing is demanded by the
spirit.
This distinction appears very clearly in the example
of St. Francis. One of his oldest biographers bears wit-
"
ness that from the time of his conversion he ever loved
to do common things, avoiding in everything singularity,"
which the biographer considers, in one sense correctly, to
"
be befouled with the blemish of every vice." J The
reflection is not strikingly applicable in the connection in
which Celano makes it, which was the refusal of St. Francis
to eatsome special food prepared for him by the priest of
San Damiano when he was in course of rebuilding that
church. The reason for the refusal was presumably the one
which Celano himself suggests in the same paragraph, that
St. Francis thought it well to prepare himself to support
any kind of food in the life which he foresaw, but the fact of
his avoidance of singularity in general, wherever such
avoidance was possible, is well enough substantiated in
other directions. On the occasions when he was eating
with laymen who were not of the brethren, and when he
had no particular object in preaching detachment or self-
conquest to them by his example, he would conceal the fact
that he ate practically nothing of the dishes so that he might
not have any appearance of being different from them on
account of his fasting. 2 Celano further attributes to him
the opinion that it is better to give up many things than to
shock the opinion of others, and this towards the end of his
3
life when he was at Rieti for the sake of his The care
eyes.
1
Thomas of Celano, The Lives of St. Francis, ii, 14.
3
Tfo Legend of St. Francis (translation by E. G. Salter), chap, v
3
sec. 15. Celano, ii, 126.
47
 St. Francis of Assisi
with which St.Francis concealed the Stigmata in every
way which was possible, although there was more than the
one reason for this, suggests the same dislike of appearing
singular unless some higher claim demanded it.
But when he felt that the claims of convention militated
against the necessities of the spiritual life, St. Francis acted
with a force and a directness which leave no ground for
supposing him to have been in any way intimidated by a
regard for what was expected. This utter disregard of
custom and opinion when he considered any spiritual
question to be implicated is one of the most striking facts
of his history, and is so evident at every step of any moment
in his life that instances need not be multiplied at this

point. As a minor,
but direct, example of his complete
fearlessness the incident vouched for by all his original
biographers may serve. During a very bad attack of fever
he had been persuaded to eat some chicken in the hope that
itwould give him strength, and he felt keenly that to eat
such excellent food was inconsistent both with the rigorous
treatment he generally accorded himself, and the idea held
of him by the people in general. On his recovery he there-
fore ordered one of the brethren to put a halter round his
neck and drag him naked round the city while he confessed
his self-indulgence to everybody he met.]; To him there
was a definite spiritual consideration at stake, the consider-
ation, namely, of his enjoying a reputation in disaccord
with the facts, and he therefore took the most direct and
striking method of letting the facts be known. In the
face of such an incident, as of his whole life, it is not possible
to believe that his desire to avoid singularity led him into
a tame and passive acquiescence in the accepted customs
of the world in which he lived.
1
Celano, i, 52; Bonaventure, Life of St. Francis (translation by
E. G. Salter), chap, vi, sec. 2 ; The Mirror of Perfection
(translation by
R. Steele), chap. Ixi.

48
 St. Francis of Assisi
A slightly different manner in which the restrictive
qualities of the lower self naturally manifest is to be found
in the feeling of shyness. Tohesitate over any course of
action because it is felt that tends to ridicule or contempt
it

at the hands of the world is to sacrifice such a course,

whatever it be, to the promptings of a self which is, by its
nature, cut off from the rest of the world in general. To
submit to' and be hindered by any such feeling is therefore
to promote the growth of the self by reason of which such

feelings are possible, for it is of the eternal nature of sacri-

fice to increase the power of that to which the sacrifice is
made. Shame is, in fact, a praise-offering made to the self,
no less than the more direct subservience to the self which
comes under the general head of selfishness and self-
seeking. St. Francis, therefore, very naturally turned his
attention to the elimination of this feeling both in himself
and his brethren at an early stage in the new life which he
dedicated to the Spirit of Universality which is God.
During the period when he was engaged in repairing the
ruined church of San Damiano in response to the command
he had received while in prayer before the Crucifix therein,
he wanted some oil to replenish its lamps. As he had
renounced all claim to his father's money and possessed
none of his own, the normal means of obtaining it were
wanting, and he therefore went to Assisi to beg for it.
But in front of the house in which he hoped to obtain the
oil he found a crowd of
people, and was suddenly so over-
come with shyness that he went away without daring to
make his request. As he went, however, the littleness and
cowardice of his action struck him he realized, apparently,
:

that a life of dedication to all that was great and most

spacious was not to be founded on timidities such as that
to which he had
just succumbed, and with a sudden resolve
he determined to do violence to the of his
propensities
"
natural self. In the words of his biographer, directing
49 D
 St. Francis of Assist
that noble spirit of his to heaven, he reproved his own
cowardice and passed judgment on himself. Straightway
he went back to the house, set forth aloud before all the
cause of his shame, and in a kind of spiritual intoxication
asked in French for oil and received it." 1 The result of his
effort to repress the promptings of his lower restricted self
was on this occasion, as on so many others in his life and
the life of every man, a sudden and almost
disproportionate
access of spiritual joy and force which is a direct influx
from all that is highest in man. The spiritual intoxication
of which Celano speaks is not, surely, an exaggerated claim
made by a devout biographer, but a literal fad: and the
inevitable result of any thorough repression of that which
makes for limitation. It is not difficult to picture the
exultation of St. Francis on this occasion, which caused him
to break out into Provencal by a sheer excess of gladness
an exultation which must have seemed to him to have its
source in something radically opposed to that which had
caused his hesitation. His rebuke of himself had been
thorough: he was not contented with simply going back
to the house and asking for the oil with as little disturbance
as possible, but he made an especial point of explaining to
the assembled crowd the details of his cowardice. He
cleansed himself thereby of the contamination of his timid-
ity, he exposed as it were to the light of the sun the
small-
ness and imperfections of his lesser self (and thereby went a
long way towards annihilating them), and as a result was
filled with the spaciousness and power which are ever

ready to fulfil a soul which shall properly be made ready. .

The view of St. Francis on this question of the desira-

bility of overcoming the feeling of shame in begging is put
beyond all doubt by another passage from Celano. He
states in the first place that St. Francis attached a definite

1
Celano, ii, 13. See also the Legend, 24.

5
 St. Francis of Assisi
value to the effort of self-repression necessary in begging
alms from door to door, and made use of alms so gathered
more willingly than of those that had been freely offered.
The emphasis, that is, is laid on the violence done to the
sense of shyness rather than on the alms itself, and begging
thereby becomes a spiritual exercise as well as, and more
than, a means of obtaining nourishment and clothing.
"
To be ashamed of begging is hostile to salvation," for
such a shame is as an incense burnt before the shrine of
1
limitation. But secondly, in this case as in all others, St.
Francis insisted on the necessity of doing even acts of self-
repression not only with resignation, but with j oy . Know-
ing in his own case that a true effort to stamp out the ten-
dencies of the lower self was followed by a very real
spiritual joy, he looked for evidences of such joy in the
brethren around him. To quote Celano again: "At
Portiuncula a brother returning with alms from Assisi
' '

began when he was now near the place to break forth

into song, and to praise the Lord with a loud voice. On
hearing this the Saint suddenly jumped up, ran out, kissed
the brother's shoulder, and said, taking the wallet on his
own shoulder, .' Blessed be my brother who goes readily,
"2
seeks humbly, and returns rejoicing.' In this readiness,
humility, and joy St. Francis saw the keys of the kingdom
of heaven.
A
very evident source of sustenance for the lower aspect
of the soul is the desire for praise and commendation and
the corresponding dislike of blame. It is patently a

separated I, if the phrase may be used, which clamours for

praise it is the natural selfhood
demanding homage from
1
See Celano, ii, 71. Cf. ibid., ii,75 : "Blessed Francis often used
to say that a true Lesser Brother
ought not to remain long without
going for alms. 'And the nobler my son is,' said he, 'the readier let
him be to, go, for in such wise merits are heaping up for him.' "
a
Celano, ii, 76.
51
 St. Francis of Assist
others so that it may be exalted in its own sight and in
theirs. To the extent to which
praise is taken to itself the
lower part divides itself off from its neighbours : its exalta-
tion is an exaltation to their detriment, and its natural
instinct is to claim adulation as the breath of its life. The
claim is not only to receive the praise, but to have deserved
it : to feel that any
good thing is the result of the activity
of the limited self. The danger of praise is so a danger
which increases in direct proportion to success, and one
that can only be obviated by a resolute determination to
turn the commendation in the direction of the sole source
of all that is good, and is therefore the sole due object of
praise. Instinct as it is with the divine universality, the
higher aspect of the soul can receive the praises of all the
world without incurring the danger of enhancing the
sentiment of selfhood, for that sentiment is the one thing
outside its range. St. Francis laid particular stress on this
point in his sketch of the -ideal Minister-General for the
Minor Brethren. He explained that the Minister-General
should indeed be paid all reverence and honour as the
representative of Christ, but that he ought" to receive
honours and abuse with the same equanimity. Yet it will
behove him not to smile on honours; nor to rejoice more
in favours than in injuries, so that his manners be not
changed by honours except for the better," as Brother Leo
1
relates it; and the tradition goes to the length of saying
"
of St. Francis and his companions that being reviled they
2
rejoiced and at honours they were afflicted." It does not
seem that this is likely to be an exaggeration of the fact, for,
to men the first effort of whose life was to crush out the
passion for recognition, the reception of honours must
1
The Mirror of Perfection, Ixxx. See also Celano, ii, 186.
2
Little Flowers, v. Cf. St. Bonaventure, vi, i : "He rejoiced in
railings and was saddened by praise. He would liefer hear himself
reviled than praised."
 St. Francis of Assisi
have seemed very dangerous payment for their work in
the world, and abuse the best help to lead them to their
St. Francis recognized the peculiar danger to
goal.
himself of the flood of adulation which inevitably accom-
panied his more apparent and signal successes, and went to
some lengths to convince the crowds of the fact that he was
by no means as perfect: as they imagined him to be.
1
A
passage from The Mirror of Perfection expresses his dis-
claimers in this direction and his whole attitude towards
the people's praise so vividly that
"
it
may be well to repro-
duce it in its entirety. For when the holy Father used
to be praised and called holy, he was wont to answer to
*
I am not
such speeches, saying: yet so secure, that I
ought not to have sons and daughters. For at whatever
hour the Lord should take away from me the treasure
which He has commended to me, what else would remain
to me but body and soul, which even infidels have ? Nay,
I ought to believe that if the Lord should have granted so

many and so great gifts to a thief or an infidel as to me they

would have been more faithful to their Lord than I. For,
Lord and the Blessed Virgin painted
as in the picture of the
on wood, the Lord and the Blessed Virgin are honoured,
and yet the wood and the picture take nothing of it to
themselves, so the servant of God is in a manner a picture
of God, wherein God is honoured on account of his good-
ness. But he ought to take nothing of this to himself,
since in respect of God, he is less than the wood and the
picture, nay he is pure nothing. And therefore unto God
alone must the glory and honour be rendered, but unto
him only shame and tribulation while he lives among the
"
miseries of this life.' 2 In this passage St. Francis
suggests an attitude in which nothing else is recognized as
1
See Joergensen, St. Francois d* Assist, book iii, chap, i, pp. 215
et ieq.
The Mirror of PerfeSion^ xlv. Cf. Bonaventurc, vi, 3.

53
 St. Francis of Assist
"
having any real being except God: in respect of God,
man is pure nothing," and to man, therefore, nothing must
be attributed. That of him which is apparent is simply
the background on which, in the servant of God, Deity
must be superposed, and in proportion as this. occurs his
life becomes real. For his real life is the life of his soul in
its connection with the higher part, or in regard to its
higher aspects it is in relation to that of him which is
divine that he can be regarded as being in any real sense.
Outside this region of reality there can be only an existence
which is in some part illusory, even if that illusion be only
"
the mistaking of the part for the whole. Blessed is the
servant who does not regard himself as better when he is
esteemed and extolled by men than when he is reputed
as mean, simple, and despicable for what a man is in the
:

sight of God, so much he is and no more."

1

On the reverse side of the medal the attitude to be

maintained in face of accusation and abuse St. Francis
insisted no less strongly. For abuse is hard to bear only
for the soul in its identification with the lower self, which
resents the intrusion of any views other than its own very
limited ones. It is, in fact, the very spirit of antagonism
to which antagonism is insufferable, and the higher atti-
tude in which that tendency has no part is that against
which its arrows are spent in vain. The higher self is
invulnerable just because it is universal, and when the soul
is identified therewith it recognizes its essential
unity with
the real selves of all other men, and so knows in very truth
that from them to it no hurt is possible. To resent a wrong
is therefore to swerve from the path of equanimity at the
call of the lower self, and to increase the power of that self

by so doing. It battens, so to speak, upon resentment and

division, and is starved into impotence by the refusal to

1
Writings, p. 16, Admonition 20. See also Bonaventure, vi, I.

54
 St. Francis of Assist
submit to its leading. This point finds its due place
among the spiritual counsels which have come down to us
under the name of the Admonitions of St. Francis, in
"
which he says: He truly loves his enemy who does not
grieve because of the wrong done to himself, but who is
afflicted for love of God because of the sin on his brother's
1
soul." Further, however: the natural inclination of the
lower self under rebuke is to fight in its own defence.
It feels, as it were, that the attack is threatening its very
existence, and it makes violent efforts to justify its own
claim to being. The natural and instinctive movement
in the face of accusation is to repel it by a vigorous denial,

irrespective in general
of the justice or injustice with which
the accusation is made. It follows therefore that, if this
aspect of the soul is to be crushed out, the instinctive
tendency to self-excuse must be controlled, and that not
only by abstaining from explanation and excuse when the
accusation is just, but also when it has no foundation what-
ever. To justify oneself is, in the majority of cases, to
submit to the spirit of separation clamouring for recogni-
tion. For some such reasons, it may well be, St. Francis
included in his counsels for the spiritual life the admonition
in which it is said: "Blessed is the servant who bears
discipline, accusation, and blame from others as patiently
as if they came from himself. Blessed is the servant who,
when reproved, mildly submits, modestly obeys, humbly
confesses, and willingly satisfies. Blessed is the servant
who is not
prompt to excuse himself, and who humbly
1
Writings, p. 12, Admonition 9. Cf. Julian of Norwich, Revelations
of Divine Love, chap. xl. "For He willeth that we be like Him in
wholeness of endless love to ourself and to our even-Christians : no
more than His love is broken to us for our sin, no more willeth He that
our love be broken to ourself and to our even-Christians : but
[that we]
endlessly hate the sin and endlessly love the soul, as God loveth it."
And the Cloud of Unknowing, chap, xxix: "Nevertheless deeds may
lawfully be judged, but not the man, whether they be good or evil"
 St. Francis of Assist
bears shame and reproof for sin when he is without
1
fault."
But in the delicately balanced condition of those who
are yet at the beginning of the life of the spirit another
species of resentment frequently makes itself apparent.
Not to resent ill usage is so clear and well defined a precept
that it is present, as a precept in any case, in the minds of all,
but even when a condition of equanimity in this respect has
been arrived at, there often remains the tendency to resent
not the evil, but the good which is apparent in the lives of
others. a tendency which is particularly insidious
It is
because so easily takes the guise of a wise and detached
it

discrimination, which pretends to penetrate below the

surface of the apparent spiritual progress of another and
discover reasons for the impossibility of its existence, while
in fact it springs from a grudging unwillingness to admit
that such progress can have been made while the critic has
remained comparatively stationary. It is not, as might be
imagined, confined to the rarified atmosphere of the
monastery, but is as present in the outer world and to-day
as ever it was in the convents of the Middle Ages. St.
Francis' comment on the subject is as direct and forcible
as usual: "Whosoever envies his brother on account of
the good which the Lord says or does in him, commits a sin
akin to blasphemy, because he envies the Most High
Himself who says and does all that is good." 2 For if there
be good in a man it is not, on the hypothesis, the lower self
"
which is responsible for it. Blessed is that servant," he
said in a continuation of the benedictions of the Sermon
"
on the Mount, who is not more puffed up because of the
1
Writings, p. 1 7, Admonition 23. Cf. the attitude which St. Francis
sketched as desirable in the
imaginary case of his being abused when
preaching at one of the Chapters (Bonaventure, vi, 5 ; The Mirror of
Perfection, Ixiv; Celano, ii, 145).
2
Writings, p. 12, Admonition 8.
 St. Francis of Assisi
good the Lord says and works through him than because
of that which He says and works through others."
1
All
in man, that is, is the prerogative of that part of him
good
which is divine, which is in fact God in man, and the posi-
tion to be striven for is that in which the God and the good
in each man recognizes and acclaims itself all the world
over.
In the three Admonitions in which he comments on
the words of the Sermon on the Mount, St. Francis lays
stress upon the need for self-annihilation to be an interior
for largeness and against separation, rather
process making
than an exterior process of subjection merely. It is the
positive aspect
of the situation. " c Blessed are the poor in
spirit;
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.* Many apply
themselves to prayers and offices, and practise much
abstinence and bodily mortification, but because of a single
word which seems to be hurtful to their bodies or because
of something being taken from them, they are forthwith
scandalized and troubled. These are not poor in spirit:
for he who is truly poor in spirit, hates himself and loves
those who strike him on the cheek." To be poor in spirit
is to abolish that which makes for
separation and resent-
ment, for on such an abolition depends the knowledge of
the kingdom of heaven in which the King also shall be
" *
known. Blessed are the peacemakers; for they shall
be called the children of God.' They are truly peace-
makers who amidst all they suffer in this world maintain
peace in soul and body for the love of our Lord Jesus
Christ." In both these cases it is the interior peace which
is
important, and neither the exterior mortification nor the
attempt to reconcile enemies holds the first place, though
it follow that the interior
peace which is of God indwelling
effects reconciliation and makes for peace also externally.

1
Writings, p. 15, Admonition 17.

57
 St. Francis of Assist
** *
Blessed are the clean of heart for they shall see God.'
:

They are clean of heart who despise earthly things and

always seek those of heaven, and who never cease to adore
and contemplate the Lord God Living and True, with a
1
pure heart and mind."
When the self has been trained into submission, when
its natural instinct to claim for itself has been supplanted

by the desire to give to others, when, in fact, its power as a

source of limitation has been partly done away with, there
is likely to remain a very insidious manifestation of its

activity and continued existence. It becomes evident in

the movement to commend itself for whatever good acts
may be done, and in so doing it perpetrates a subtle kind
of spiritual theft. On reflection it is obvious that the good,
the outward-flowing actions in man are the work of that
part of him which can make no claim to recognition simply
because it is unable to recognize itself as separated, and
that the lower part is by the definition incapable of, for
example, an uninterested act of charity its nature is not
:

to give, but to take. But the moment that an act of

is done, in all unconsciousness that it is an act of
charity
charity for conscious virtue is as impossible as uncon-
scious sin the soul turns, so to speak, with amazing
rapidity from the unconscious, outgoing action of its
higher aspect, to the indrawing self-seeking movement of
the lower. The claim is made: I did that, and self-com-
mendation follows in the natural course. The selfhood
filches, that is, from the selfless part its good actions, and
attributes them to itself with praise. This spiritual theft
appears as the least eradicable part of selfhobd, and one
that can be best combated by an exposure of its meanness.
To admit openly the self-satisfaction that has been felt is to
strike at its very root, to cut away all the foundation on

Writings^ pp. 14-15, Admonitions 14, 15, 16.

 St. Francis of Assisi
which it res"ls, and when St. Francis found himself in
danger of spiritual self-satisfac~tion of this nature he imme-
diately took this course. In the words of Celano, which
"
are corroborated by The Mirror of Perfection He would,
:

if ever his spirit were moved to vainglory, at once reveal it

before all men by open confession. Once when he was
walking through Assisi he met an old woman who asked
him to give her something. Having nothing but a cloak,
with ready bounty he gave her that. But perceiving an
impulse to self-complacency stealing over him, he imme-
diately confessed before all the bystanders that he had had
vainglory in his action."
*
And in words the trenchancy of
which is the seal of their genuineness the same biographer
"
continues that he would say to his brethren: The flesh
. claims for itself, and transfers to its own
. .
glory what
has been given not to it, but to the soul. It gathers from
without praise for its virtues, applause for its watchings
and prayers. It leaves the soul nothing, and seeks pay-
ment even for its tears." 2
The lower self, the natural man, the old Adam, man as
he is in his unregenerate sl:ate, then, musl die. These are
not mere words phrases invented to shroud an inexplic-
able mystery: they convey the literal fac~l that only by such
a death can man reach to the real full life of which he is
capable. By reason of the transference of the energies and
desires from the lower to the higher of the soul's aspects,
the man as he was known before the process began dies
literally he ceases to exisl: as he was, and in respedl; of his
selfhood he is no more. In the place of the man as he was
is born a new man in whom freedom takes the
place of
limitation and universality the place of separateness. It is
in this spacious region of the new birth that, in the language
of theology, all the virtues reside and from which all good-
1
Celano, ii, 132. See also The Mirror of Perfeftion^ Ixiii.
2
Celano, ii, 134.
59
 St. Francis of Assisi
ness flows, and the attainment of any virtue in its fullness is
"
therefore dependent on this mystical death.
"
all ye O
most holy virtues," cried St. Francis, may the Lord, from
whom you proceed and come, save you! There is abso-
lutely no man in the whole world who can possess one
among you unless he first die. He who possesses one and
does not offend the others, possesses all; and he who
*
offends one, possesses none and offends all." This sphere
of regeneration is the realm alone in which virtues are
possible, for virtue ultimately consists in an attitude
and
not in any act itself: the question is of being virtuous, if the
term is to be employed, rather than of doing virtuous
things. To be in the place of virtues is to possess them all
by the very fact, and to be without it is to fall short of any
virtue in its entirety. In the realm of universality to have
one is to have all, but in the realm of separation it is not
possible really to have anything.
The truth of self-annihilation is that it is the one means
to freedom, and its final maxim is therefore that independ-
ence does not mean self-dependence, but dependence only
on God. But God also is within, and in the knowledge of
the indwelling Deity lies the source of all power and all
sustenance and all grace. And St. Francis bore his
witness that in such dependence strength was to be found.
When the first few brethren were sent out to preach, and,
it is said, at all times when he gave any obedience, he said

to each one singly, as his final counsel for the journey:

"
Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He shall sustain
*
thee." In such a non-dependence on themselves lay the
triumph both of St. Francis and all the victors in the battles
of the spirit.
1
Writings, p. 21. Salutation of the Virtues.
a
Bonaventure, iii, 7. Celano(i, 29) gives the recommendation in a
" Cast
slightly different form :
thy thought on the Lord and He will
nourish thee,"
60
 Chapter Three
INCE THE ANNIHILATION OF THE
self is the method by which mysticism proceeds
towards its end. of the knowledge of and com-
munion with God, it
may be looked for with
every prospect of success among all people and communi-
ties where the
knowledge of God is expressly put forward
as the purpose of their existence. It
may thus be postulated
without hesitation as the foundation of the religious life.
The outstanding feature of this life within the pale of
Christendom, which is the extent of the present concern,
is found in the three vows
by which a seal was placed on
the complete dedication of a life to God the vows by
which that life was bound to obedience, to poverty, and to
chastity. Herein, then, it may be expected that there will
be found subdivisions of the general principle of self-
annihilation, directed towards the different aspects under
which the lower self is mainly in evidence. It may make
for clearness to take the three vows, tentatively at any rate,
as
corresponding to three large aspects of man which may
be called the will, the mind, and the emotions respectively.
The extent to which the emotions became identified with
the body will be considered in due course. The corre-
spondence is perhaps not.perfect on the surface, but it may
serve as a point of departure for a consideration of the
implications of the monastic vows in their bearing on the
essential method of mysticism.
Since the whole evil of the lower self is separateness, the
will which has to be
destroyed is the will to separateness
the personal will which sets itself and its aims over
against
61
 St. Francis of Assist
the will of others, and demands its own satisfaction at any
cost whatever. It is either a misconception or a wilful

misstatement, to represent the mystic as attempting to

destroy the whole force of his life in this effort to subjugate
the personal will, as though his aim were to become un-
governed and undirected, veering round with every im-
pulse from without; it is a question of supersession rather
than abolition -per se, and that which supersedes the limited
and separated will is the universal will of God. The an-
nihilation of the personal will, that is, is again a definite
means to a clearly conceived end, and it is only when it is

taken as an end in itself that any misconception can arise.

But while the end is to permit the divine will to replace
the personal will, the method of so uprooting the personal
will that the divine may take its place is a long and arduous

process. It is not possible immediately to obliterate all

signs and traces of what has, in the majority of cases, held a

long and autocratic rule: it is a
procedure in which many
short steps and the burden of much detail are inevitable,
not the wide heroic sweep of an advance which brings the
traveller straight to the throne of God.

Speaking very widely, there are two methods of univer-

salizing the will. The first is so to increase its force by
dint of continual effort that it ends by becoming all-
embracing and all-conquering, brooking no opposition
whatever, but carrying all before it in an impetuous onrush
towards its goal. This, however, is not without its dangers,
for though, if it be carried to its term, it may lead its pos-
sessor to the direct knowledge of the Highest, it
lays him
open in a particular manner to precisely that self-interest
which must eventually be abolished. If the will of a man
be of such force and vitality that it bows to no obstacles,
but cuts directly through them to its end, it will only be by
an especial sanctity of purpose that he will escape the
employment of his will for his own personal desires. It is a
62
 St. Francis of Assisi
process singularly akin to playing with fire, and unless
the
dedication be perfect, the result will be a holocaust of all

that is most holy the destruction, namely, of what is

highest and most spacious in man. The second method,

which is
pre-eminently that of mysticism, proceeds on
other lines. Instead of directly attempting to make the
personal will universal by a process of intensification and
its method is to deny the
widening, personal will in its
tendency to separateness on every occasion which presents
itself. It is thus, in comparison with the first method
which has been mentioned, a negative rather than a
positive process, but negative only in the sense of negating
separateness. By a not unlikely paradox it widens the
personal will by denying it it is therefore negative in one
:

aspect, but positive, in that it makes for the universalization

of the will, in the other. For fundamentally it is with the
will as with the self since the will is regarded virtually as a
subdivision of that self and that by which it is directed it :

is a force which is
capable of direction in either of two
ways, and can only be spoken of as comprising two wills
for convenience of expression. The universal will is one
aspect of the will, or, rather, one direction in which it may
be turned: while the personal will is another aspect and a
diametrically opposed direction in which the one will may
be turned. Thus the very fact of the denial of the personal
will promotes the activity of the universal will, for the will
in one aspect or the other continues always to act, and if the
barriers of separateness be broken down it will flow un-
hindered in its fullness.
It is with this second method, then, that mysticism is

concerned; and here again there must be conceived an

attraction, or as it were a suggestion made by that which is
higher and more spacious in man, which implants in him
the desire and endows him with the capacity to direct his
will to the universal rather than the
personal. One of the
 St. Francis of Assist
most obvious methods of annihilating the personal will is to
discover what that will is, and then, quite simply, to do the
opposite. St. John of the Cross tabulated his recommenda-
tions in this connection, and they stand as evidence of what
is
possible in the way of rigour. They were for him a
means of entering into the night of sense which was an
"
inevitable step on the path. Strive always," he says,
"
not after that which is most easy, but after that which is
most difficult. Not after that which is most pleasant, but
after that which is most
unpleasant. Not after that which
giveth pleasure, but after that which giveth none. Not
after that which is consoling, but after that which is afflict-
ive. Not after that which ministers repose, but after that
which ministers labour. Not after great things, but after
little
things. Not after that which is higher and precious,
but after that which is lower and despised. Strive not to
desire anything, but rather nothing. Seek not after that
which is better, but after that which is worse ..." J It
would be difficult to overestimate the efficacy of such a
process in abolishing the inclinations of the lower self.
There would be left, in fact, no I capable of willing any-
thing by the time that it had been brought to its conclusion,
and the will of God might therefore well be the sole insti-
gation to action.
An equally evident means of denying the personal will
with a view to its ultimate destruction is to prefer to it on
any occasion the will of no matter whom.
"
If the desirable
thing is to be able
eventually to God wills," instead
" " " say,
of I will," and as the I will must be abandoned before
"
the God wills " can take its place, it is one step on the
"
road to be able to say, You will " whenever the occasion
may arise. It is not, it would in fact be nonsensical to
suppose, that the will of no matter whom is necessarily any

1
The Ascent of Mount Carmel, I, xiii, 6.

64
 St. Francis of Assis i
more the will of God than is the mystic's own personal will,
but to do it rather than his own is an excellent
training
against the time when an opposition may arise between
what to be actually God's will and his own. Such
is felt

preparation in apparently insignificant details abounds in

the life of spiritual endeavour, and it appears as one of the
be able continually to fly
secrets of success in that life to
in the face of common sense, and repeatedly
to magnify
into mountains what normally appear as molehills. There
are few who would not behave with some measure of hero-
ism in the face of a tremendous tragedy, or at a time which
was recognized to constitute some great spiritual crisis:
the very recognition of the fact that great issues are in-
volved suffices in the majority of cases to put men on their
mettle and cause them to take wider views and less self-
centred action than are customary. The sense of strain
and crisis changes the whole quality of their activity. And
the records of sanctity are full of cases where an incident
that normally would appear unimportant receives a degree
of care and consideration which only avoids the accusa-
tion of disproportion when it is remembered that to the
mystic all the apparently trifling details of a life are so
many steps by which he may mount to his proper home.
There is in truth nothing
unimportant, nothing trifling,
but only man who makes it so by a system of values which,
from the spiritual standpoint, are demonstrably false. The
submission to the will of another, then, simply because he
is another, and not because it is
fantastically imagined that
he represents the divine will in any especial degree, serves
in the first place as a training and a preparation for the
time when the mandate of the divine will shall clearly
appear, and in the second as an actual and present destruc-
1
tion of the personal and completely separated will.

1
Cf. Lopukhin, Some Characteristics of the Interior Church, chap.
65 E
 St. Francis of Assisi
But while it is possible for every one to find among his
neighbours and his friends a sufficiency of people to whose
wills he can submit his own, the devout Catholic is saved
the trouble of making a choice by the provision of an
already constituted authority. In the last resort the will of
the Church is final and supreme for him in small matters
as in large, and the detailed regulations she has drawn up
in things both temporal and eternal, for his most intimate
concerns as for his public actions, testify to the thorough-
ness with which she has fulfilled her office. For those
Catholics who live in communities which are specially
dedicated to the religious life, the head of the community-
plays the part of intermediary between the Church and her
subjects: for those whose place is in the world the priest-
hood is ever at hand to act as the official mouthpiece. The
Church thus stands for something bigger and higher and
wider than the individual, as something more general with
which his will may be identified and so rescued from the
purely personal direction. She offers herself as a perpetual
substitute, and in the acceptance of her will in the place of
the personal will may unquestionably be found just that
opportunity for renunciation which has been seen to con-
stitute so excellent a preparation.
There is, however, a striking characteristic of the
mystic's attitude which at first sight presents some diffi-
culty in this connection. Whatever may be his creed, his
period, or the measure of his achievement, there is one firm
" It
viii (3) : is by so forcing the
corrupt will of our degraded nature,
which absolutely opposed to the divine will, that we best labour to
is

divest ourselves of the old man, and it is by this violence that our soul
forces the Kingdom of God. It is both useful and necessary often to
break our own will, and resist it even in the smallest things, so doing
by a burning zeal for Jesus Christ the Crucified. This continual
struggle against our own will, maintained in a good end, prepares us in
a particular manner for the true denial, and attracts to us the spirit of
grace."
66
 St. Francis of Assisi
and unshaken conviction which in some degree marks
him off from the large body of his co-religionists, and con-
stitutes the essence of his position. He believes more,
he knows with unalterable certainty that the one thing of
supreme value for any one who aspires to the fulness of the
life of the
spirit is actual experience: this is the
means
and the earnest of his advance and a phenomenon for which
no substitute is possible. Were all the world to shake with
the reiterated assurances of the faithful that God is here or
God is there, he would be unable, by reason of the very
temperament which constitutes him a mystic, to rest con-
tent without rendering the fact a part of his own experience.
His purpose is to know God experimentally, and for such
an intent substituted experience is of little or no value.
Is it possible to reconcile this emphasis on the necessity for
actual experience with the desire which by the hypothesis
is his, to annihilate his
personal will by every possible
means ? Is not the very desire for the actual experimental
knowledge an evidence of the personal will?
The answer, it would seem, is that inasmuch as the
characteristic of the personal will is that it makes for
separateness, and the knowledge of God makes for uni-
versality, it is not possible for the desire to know God by
means of actual experience to spring from the personal
"
will. If man were, in a favourite phrase, merely man,"
which, if it mean anything, must mean that he is not also
in some way divine, it does not
appear that there could
enter into his consciousness even the conception of the
higher, nor into his desires the impulse thereto. For, as
has been seen in the opening chapter, man is his conscious-
ness, and it is because the divine has some part therein
that the kingdom of heaven is indisputably within him.
If such a desire could
spring from the lower aspects of the
will itwould be a move on .their part towards self-destruc-
tion, which is against the probabilities on account of their
67
 St. Francis of Assisi
very nature. The desire must again be regarded as an
instigation from the higher aspects of the will, spurring
it on to war on limitation and join itself to the ranks
wage
of the hosts of God.
The claim of the Church to speak as the representative
of God and to be the channel par excellence, if not the sole
channel, by which the divine will is known to mankind,
places it in an unrivalled position as the authority to which
the personal will should be submitted. In so far as it
fulfils this office of
intermediary it is for the majority of
its
subjects a court from which there can and should be no
appeal possible: vox ecclesiae, vox Dei; and, unless access
be obtained to the King, to rebel against its command-
ments is to rebel by implication against the King Himself.
But among the faithful there is a small body of men and
"
women, the Open Secret Society of the Mystics," who
make just this claim to have gained a direct and actual
knowledge of the King; to have penetrated into His most
secret chambers, and communed with Him in the silence
of desire. They bring back from these dim communings
dim to the many because their eyes are veiled, but to
them resplendent with the glory of another world ineff-
able memories, and knowledge which it is not lawful to tell,
for the law of the King in His sanctuary is not the law of the
world. For the mystics, therefore, there is an authority
\ higher than that of the Church, there is a voice speaking
} with a wider right of command. It is evident that for
those who can learn the will of the Absolute Ruler by
direct intercourse, the offices of an intermediary are not
only unnecessary, but in the last resort can only serve to
distort that will in the ministries of interpretation.
The logical outcome of the position of the mystic is thus
to do away with the raison tfttre of the Church as an inter-
mediary and interpreter so far as he is himself concerned.
But it is not at all times nor for all things that the offices
68
 St. Francis of Assist
of the Church are found superfluous. The mystic is rarely
born fully fledged, as it were, capable of mounting to the
dizziest heights of divine contemplation without effort or
preparation : his life is in part a life of detailed and labori-
ous training, and it is only at the end of this period that he
comes into his heritage of conscious communion with God.
Until this time come it is natural for the mystic to consider
his Church as providing the most desirable surroundings
for his preparation, and natural also for his attitude towards
it to .be coloured
by his fundamental standpoint. Besides
acting as a temporary substitute, it provides an atmosphere
which, in certain respects, makes for the spiritual progress
of its members. After all has been said in the way of criti-
cism, the Church is ultimately concerned with the same
matter as the mystic, and for him it may well prepare the
way for the establishment of a divine relation. Simply
because its concern is explicitly with high things, it has a
very high value for those who are skilled enough to inter-
pret its often distorted messages, and clear-sighted enough
to take the good in its institutions and put aside the bad.
And in spite of the fact that no church has yet been founded
that has not, to some extent, travestied and corrupted the
teachings of its founder, there must remain beneath the
husks and refuse of its instituted conventionalities some
germ of the truth that gave it birth. And it is not impos-
sible that the capacity to extract from any church the
essence of its original value varies with the extent to which
the universality of search for divine things and the power
of penetration of the mystic are possessed. Inasmuch, also,
as the Church serves, by means of its rituals and its feasts,
its sacrifices and its
pageantry, as a perpetual call to divine
things and perpetual reference to divine events, it retains
a
a certain very real value for the mystic as a continual
reminder of that to which his life is dedicated. It may often
be that the high events to which the rituals refer suffer mis-
69
 St. Francis of Assisi
construction, but ultimately every ritual is open to precisely
as many constructions as there are spectators and partici-
pants, and however much the meaning may be veiled it is
for the mystic to transmute and elevate the great signs and
words to their hidden and original beauty.
But there is a point at which the ministrations of the
Church fail in their usefulness to him. That towards which
he has set his face is universal, and anything which tends
to limitation is therefore a less
thing than his ideal and
restrictive of his progress. But all churches are universal
in their own eyes, and all competitors are, therefore, pre-
tenders. The universality they desire is a universality of
quantity, while that of the mystic is of quality, and a merely
numerical universality is very different from the living
universality of actual being, which is that of the spirit.
For any church to claim that it is universal is to exclude
those who are not within its pale, and condemn the tenets
and the doctrines of all its competitors: and while the
churches raise the false banner of mutual jexclusiveness, a
true Church of God must be impossible in the external
order. It can only be built when it is realized by the

churches, as it has always been realized by that which is

most vital in mysticism, that exclusiveness is death and
that universality stands for inclusiveness. Till then the
Church of God is in the hands of the mystics creedless
and universal. This limitation of scope on the part of
orthodoxy stands as the dividing point of the ways of the
churches and the mystics, for liberty of search is essential
to the spirit of mysticism, and for it there can be no place
or creed or institution where it is not at liberty to seek
help on the journey and knowledge of the end.
When, therefore, any claim is made by the Church to
decide along which paths, and by what particular means,
spiritual progress
is
permissible, when, in fact, any limit
is
placed to the mystic's power to advance by any means
70
 St. Francis of Assist
that are possible, at that moment the official pronounce-
ments of the Church cease to hold his attention, and are
in effect disregarded by him. And it is that something
outside all churches and beyond all creeds which is in the
breast of every mystic, that gives him the strength and the
duty so to disregard the authority of his church, whether he
be in apparent conformity or open difference. In the
ultimate analysis he must regard the Church as a means,
and in no way as an end, for the end is that to which the
Church ministers. If he have heard the voice of God
speaking in the inmost places of his being, he has reached
that final authority from which there can be no appeal:
Christ is greater than His Church, and His will must over-
ride the Church's will. It is to this divine will that the

mystic aims at subjecting his personal will, and when this

becomes possible the temporary substitute is put away
whenever, and in so far as, it is in disagreement therewith.
For in truth it is no longer necessary.
**
To receive God's
commands and His counsel and all His teaching, is the
privilege of the inward man, after that he is united with
God. And where there is such a union, the outward man
is
surely taught and ordered by the inward man, so that no
outward commandment or teaching is needed. But the
commandments and laws of men belong to the outer man,
and are needful for those men who know nothing better,
for else they would not know what to do and what to
1
refrain from. . . ."
In considering the life of any individual mystic in his
relations with his church, allowance must be made for the
fact that his qualities and his attitude as a mystic probably
do not exhaust the whole of his character. He is also an
individual with natural tendencies peculiar to himself and
his surroundings: his creed and the institutions of his

1
Theologla Germanica, chap, xxxix,
71
 St. Francis of Assisi
church must naturally colour his actions to a large extent;
his nationality, his rank even, his upbringing, will all play
their part in deciding the numerous details of his behaviour.
It is only of him in his character of mystic, on certain
occasions and at certain stages in his mystical life, that the
tendency to rebel against ecclesiastical authority will be
apparent. Nor is this almost instinctive tendency to revolt
peculiar to those who have fallen under the ban of the
Church's displeasure. It is true that when mysticism has
been taken to its logical conclusion, and it has been pointed
out that the institutions and sacraments of the Church are
not universally necessary to salvation ; when emphasis has
been laid on the fact that more spiritual progress may
result from mental prayer than from observing the Church's
instructions; it is true that when this has been done the
condemnation has been pronounced with no uncertainty,
and the movement which included these heresies in its
propaganda has been, ,as in the case of Quietism, ruthlessly
suppressed. But the history of Catholic mysticism con-
tains cases of determined continuance of what has been
felt to be the divine will in the face of the direct disapproval
of the authorities, by sons and daughters of the Church
who have escaped any hint of condemnation. It may be
sufficient to give two examples from the life of St. Teresa,
who is accepted by the Church as among the most severely
orthodox and the most minutely obedient of her children.
At the period in her life when she began to return with
increased application to mental prayer, she frequently
experienced a high state which is known as the Prayer of
Union, as well as that of the Prayer of Quiet. The conso-
lations that she received in these states were so great that
she had some fear of delusion, on account of certain women
who had apparently been similarly favoured and, it eventu-
ally transpired,
had been deluded. At the same time she
felt a very deep conviction that God was with her,
especially
72
 St. Francis of Assist
in prayer, and that she was growing better and stronger on
account of her prayer. In this dilemma she determined to
consult an ecclesiastic of considerable repute for learning
and piety, and take his advice as to her condition. His
counsel was that she should give up her way of prayer and
proceed as if she were in a much more advanced state than
she felt herself to be in at the moment. She therefore
determined not to take his advice, and consulted a layman
whom she considered to be well versed in spiritual direction.
The layman, however, was no more encouraging than the
priest, and after some consideration both of them con-
cluded that St. Teresa was deluded by an evil spirit. On
their advice, it is said, she then applied to a Jesuit Father,
who assured her that her extraordinary states of prayer
were quite genuinely the work of God, and that she must
persist energetically with mental prayer and not, on any
1
account, give it up.
It does not seem an exaggeration to say that in this case
St. Teresa was moved in all her actions
by the underlying
conviction that her method of prayer was right and truly
the work of God. The surface doubts and questionings
arising from a comparison of her own condition with that
of other women contemplatives of the period, led her to
seek an authoritative affirmation of the fact that she was not
deluded, but when her application to a representative of the
Church failed to secure this affirmation, she unhesitatingly
refused to accept his decision. Her judgment of the eccle-
siastic to whom she first went is severe and final it has

just the finality which comes from a God-given conviction

of being under divine guidance and she says frankly that
if she had
only had that ecclesiastic to confer with, she
believes that her soul would have made no progress. She
adds that her inability to do as he suggested gave her great

1
Life of St. Teresa, by herself, chap, xxiii.

73
 St. Francis of Assist
1
pain, but the fact remains that the interior conviction of
the mystic carried the day in spite of the grief caused to the
would-be obedient daughter of the Church. To consult a
layman in these circumstances was to apply to an authority
not strictly recognized by the Church, but indeed the
mystic is willing to gain help and encouragement from any
source available, with a certain disrespect for the strict con-
siderations of orthodoxy, so long as there appears to be
some measure of divine illumination. But as her lay
adviser coincided no more with her convictions than the
ecclesiastic had done, St. Teresa was impelled to seek until
she found some confirmation of her method. Having
succeeded in this, she sought no farther on her own part,
and only left the confessor who was in agreement with her
when he was compelled to leave her neighbourhood. 2 At
first sight it would appear that there is some inconsistency
in this unshakable certainty of being in the right way, and
the desire to gain an authoritative confirmation of the fact,
but it is to be remembered, as has been already noticed,
that the mystic is not mystic pure and unalloyed, but is also
tinged with the inclinations of his or her particular cir-
cumstances. In the case of St. Teresa it was the mystic
which imparted to her the certainty of conviction, and the
daughter of the Church which impelled her to seek until
she found an authoritative sanction.
The other example in the life of the same saint of a
divine conviction persisting under, and eventually triumph-
ing over, all opposition was in connection with the founda-
tion of the monastery of St. Joseph. She had, in her own
language, a vision, in which God promised that the
monastery should be built, and the vision was so efficacious
that she could not possibly doubt that it came from Him.
She saw that the foundation of the monastery was His will,
1
Life of St. Teresa, by herself, chap, xxiii, sec. 9.
3
lbid. y chap, xxiv, sees. 4, 5.

74
 St. Francis of Assist
and in the vision received instructions to tell her confessor
not to put hindrances in her way. The confessor did not
tell her definitely to abandon the idea, but suggested that
she should lay the whole matter before the Provincial of the
Order. He was at first in favour of the project, but later,
on account of the great opposition on all sides, changed his
mind and decided that the monastery should not be built. 1
This occurred on the day before the papers were to be
signed, and her confessor told her to think no more about
"
it. To quote St. Teresa's own words: I gave up our
with much readiness and as if it cost me
design joy, nothing.
No one could believe it, not even those men of prayer with
whom I conversed for they thought I was exceedingly
:

pained and sorry : even my confessor himself could hardly

believe it. ... And so I remained in the house where I was,
exceedingly happy and joyful; though at the same time
I was never able to give up my conviction that the work
would be done. I had now no. means of doing it, nor did I
know how or when it would be done; but I firmly believed
2
in its accomplishment." Some months afterwards she
returned to the charge, and suggested to her confessor and
"
the father-rector many reasons and considerations why
should not stand in my way. Some of these reasons
they
made them afraid, for the father-rector never had a doubt
of its being the work of the Spirit of God. ... At last, after
much consideration, they did not dare to hinder me." 3
Eventually the monastery was founded, two years after the
in the mind of St. Teresa, it had
original vision by which,
been assured. In this case the conviction never flagged: ^j^j
the refusal of the Provincial to sanction the monastery
resulted only in St. Teresa shelving the proposal for a short
time, with the absolute certainty in her own mind that her
idea would eventually be realized. She did not, as she was
1
Life of St. Teresa, chap, xxxii, sees. 14-18. 3
3
Ibid., chap, xxxiii, sees. I, 3. Ibid., sec. 12.

75
 St. Francis of Assist
directed to do confessor, put the whole matter away
by her
from her finally, but after an interval insisted again on its
necessity with arguments of such cogency that both the
confessor himself and the father-rector gave way.
With these facts the opinions of St. Teresa on her own
attitude of obedience, as handed down to the present day
in the carefully edited editions of her autobiography, stand
in some contrast. With regard to her confessor she claims
on two occasions that she is obedient to him, however
imperfectly, and says that if he commanded anything and
she left it undone she would think herself grievously
deluded. 1 Though she should certainly believe a prayer to
be from God, she says that she would never do anything
for any consideration whatever, that was riot judged by
him who had the charge of her soul to be for the better
2
service of our Lord. It is noticeable that St. Teresa's
method was not to accept a confessor who was antagonistic
to the way of prayer she felt to be God-given, but to perse-
vere until she found one who expressed his approval of its
main points. In such circumstances her obedience is
easier to understand, for if she were in agreement with her
confessor on the general attitude, it would be natural for
her to follow his directions in the details. And further, in a
Relation written some fourteen years after the foundation
of the monastery of St. Joseph, St. Teresa says that she
never undertook anything merely because it came to her in
prayer: on the contrary, when her confessors bade her to
do the reverse, she did so without being in the least troubled
3
thereat. In the passage in the autobiography which refers
to the foundation, the saint goes only to the length of saying
that if a certain very learned Dominican had told her that
she could not go on without offending God and going
against her own conscience, she believes she would have
1
Life of St. Teresa, chap, xxiii, sec. 19; Re/., i, sec. 9.
8 3
Ibid., Re/., i, sec. 29. Ibid., Re/., vii, sec. 1
5.

76
 St. Francis of Assist
given it up, and looked out for some other way, but that
she was shown no other way. 1 If these statements be in
fact the unedited opinions of St. Teresa, the only con-
clusion possible is that she was so imbued with the idea of
obedience that she did not recognize her occasional but
inevitable departure therefrom at certain times. It is
evident that they do not tally with the facts of her life,
and it is not impossible that her carefully nurtured desire
for obedience blinded her to the fact that in obeying her
divinely received impulses she was acting in a way which
was above any authority. Such action would be in accord-
ance with an instinctive or, rather, an intuitive necessity
of her very being the force of the spirit cleaving through
any and every obstacle and beyond the limits of any
authority, straight to its end. For when man is identified
with the indwelling spirit and speaks in that spirit's name,
the moment for his obedience is past, and his is then the
final and irresistible authority. And in words which bear
all the
impress of her indomitable certainty that her con-
victions were of God and her communing with Him, and
therefore not to be gainsaid, St. Teresa writes of her desire
"
for a monastery founded in poverty: I found scarcely

anyone of this opinion neither my confessor, nor the

learned men to whom I spoke of it. They gave me so
many reasons the other way that I did not know what to do.
But when I saw what the rule required, and that poverty
was the more perfect way, I could not persuade myself to
allow an endowment. And though they did persuade me
now and then that they were right, yet, when I returned to
my prayer, and saw Christ on the Cross, I could not bear
to be rich." 2 Her practical answer to a Dominican who
sent her two sheets of objections and theology against her
plan was that she did not want any theology to help her to
1
Life of St. Teresa, chap, xxxii, sec. 19.
a
Ibid.^ chap, xxxv, sec. 4.
77
 St. Francis of Assist
escape from her vow of poverty and the perfect observance
of the counsels of Chris!:, and that therefore she did not
thank him for his learning. 1 And of her way of prayer:
"
When I am in prayer, and during those days when I am
in repose, and my thoughts fixed on God, if all the learned
and holy men of the world came together and put me to all
conceivable tortures, and I,, too, desirous of agreeing with
them, they could not make me believe that this is the work
of Satan, for I cannot. And when they would have had me
believe it, I was who it was that said so; and
afraid, seeing
I thought that theymust be saying what was true, and that
I, being what I was, must have been deluded. But all
they had said to me was destroyed by the first word, or
recollection, or vision that came, and I was able to resist
no longer, and believed it was from God." 2
So much of an orthodox mystic df the Roman Church on
the question of a hypothetical collision with the Inquisition,
and of her certainty in the face of authoritative contradic-
tion.
It must be a hard saying for the Church, that the king-
dom of heaven is within, for she would have it believed,
rather, that that kingdom is in her own keeping. The
keys of heaven and of hell are her sceptre, and for the
mystic who claims that the sceptre is finally in the hands of
God and of himself at his highest she reserves a variety of
fates, which in general fall under three heads.
She may, in the first place, ignore him if he or the school
which he represents are of so little importance for one
reason or another as to be unlikely to attract the attention
of the faithful. Insignificance is a natural title to liberty
of action.
Secondly, she may use the method of suppression, as she
did (for example) in the case of the Quietists during the
1
Life of St. Teresa, chap, xxxv, sec. 5.
8
Ibid., Re/.,i, sec. 28,
 St. Francis of dissisi
second half of the seventeenth century. Molinos was
imprisoned, Madame Guyon followed him a few years
later, and the movement, as a movement in any case, was
1
successfully stamped out.
Lastly, where a mystic or a school of mystical teaching
is too influential to ignore, and for any reason too valuable
to suppress, recourse is inevitably had to the method of
adoption or assimilation. But however she may adopt, or
however strenuously she may try to assimilate them, the
Church never has the air of being quite comfortable in her
treatment of the mystics. Their essential independence is
a source of perpetual uneasiness to her; their habit of
dealing with the most solemn official pronouncements as
though there were some higher court of appeal behind
them, invests them with a certain character of irrespons-
ibility in her eyes, and gives rise to a feeling that their
occasional value is very nearly balanced by their continual
danger. They are to her excellent servants but terribly
exacting masters, and her fear of their mastery is as great
as her pleasure in their service. There is, moreover, a
certain recklessness in the matter of theological geography,
a disquieting readiness to accept the truth from whatever
sources and in whatever region it may be discovered, and
allof these characteristics combine to result in the mystic
being regarded as an enfant terrible over whom a very strict
watch must be kept. He is included in the circle of the
Church's approbation on the condition of his submission
1
It is interesting to note, in connexion with what has been said
above as to the mystic's attitude towards obedience to the Church, that
Molinos was far from disparaging obedience. On the contrary, he in-
sisted on the necessity for it, and himself submitted to the Church in

spite of his convi&ion that he was not mistaken in his teachings.

"
Goodbye, Father," he said to the Dominican who went with him to
" we shall meet
his prison, again on Judgment Day, and then it will
be seen if the truth was' on your side or on mine." See The Spiritual
Guide, Introduction by K.. Lyttleton, pp. 15, 18.
79
 St. Francis of Assist
being more in evidence than his independence; of his
character as an obedient child being more obvious than
his character as a God-guided mystic; arid, in some cases,
more particularly on condition of his force and example
being required to withstand some growing and undesirable
tendency within the Church. St. Teresa and St. John of
the Cross fulfilled the first of these conditions, and coin-
cided very aptly with a need of the Church for some such
demonstration of apparent (and to a large extent very real)
submission, combined with an activity in the matter of
reform which went far to answer the objections of the then
growing Protestantism on the score of luxury. It is
difficult to regard the activities and the sum of spiritual and
"
reforming endeavour of these two saints as all part "of the
campaign against Protestantism," or to agree that they
were before all things champions of the Counter-Reforma-
1
tion," but it can hardly be doubted that while they were
concerned with the great mystical facts and the need of
these being known more widely and followed after more
strenuously, the Church on her part was moved to accept
them by a recognition of their extreme utility in the crisis
of the moment. The searchings of heart which may have
preceded such acceptance are suggested by the fact that
St. Teresa was nearly, or perhaps actually, put into the
convent prison on more than one occasion, 2 and St. John
certainly incarcerated for more than eight months at
3
Toledo; while the similarity between certain aspects of
St Teresa's teaching and that of the subsequently con-
demned Quietists is so great that one non-Catholic writer
1
Dean
Inge, perhaps naturally, takes this view in his Christian Mys-
ticism,second edition, Lefture V, p. 224.
3
See Life of St. Teresa, by herself, chap, xxxiii, sec. 2, and chap,
xxxvi, sec. n, note 21, in the 1911 edition of the Very Rev. Benedict
Zimmerman, O.C.D.
3
See The Ascent of Mount Carmel, prefatory essay by the Very Rev,
B. Zimmerman, O.C.D., in the 1906 edition, p. u.
80
 Sf. Francis ofAssisi
has concluded that her teaching about passivity and the
1
prayer of quiet is identical with that of Molinos, and
another that she was the real author of Quietist mysticism. 2
However this may be, the Church has formulated a body
of rules for mysticism which are intended to keep it under
the strictest control and prevent it wandering outside the
boundaries of orthodoxy. They include detailed instruc-
tion on the smallest points of the mystic life, on the desir-
able attitude in the face of any conceivable circumstances,
and the method of distinguishing between intimations
which may safely be regarded as divine and those which
should be unhesitatingly put aside. The final criterion in
all cases of doubt is that of their orthodoxy, so that any-

thing which is against the Church's teaching must un-

questionably be regarded as delusive, while everything
which corroborates her teaching may safely be regarded
as coming direct from God, 3 It is difficult not to see in
such a standpoint a greater desire for the safety of the
Church as an institution than for the truth in any or all of
its
aspects, and difficult accordingly to avoid the conclusion
that the mystical theology of the Roman Church is aimed
at limiting mysticism in all the spheres of its activity, and
so denying it the freedom which is of its essence. But, as
has been seen, it is not always successful in this endeavour
because the mystic at the highest points of his life is under
no authority but that of God. At the bottom of the
Church's timidity of mysticism it can scarcely be doubted
that there lies the realization that the logical outcome of it
would be to do away with her raison d'ttre^ however much
emphasis might be laid on the value of her sacraments by
mystics who were also Catholics. And just inasmuch as
1
W. R. Inge, Christian Mysticism, second edition, Lefture V, p. 222.
2
K. Lyttleton, IntroduHon to The Spiritual Guide, p. 24.
3
Cf. e.g., A. Poulain, The Graces of Interior Prayer, chap, xxii,
sec. 33.
8l F
 St. Francis ofAssist
the claim to experience actual communion with God is
singularly liable to abuse, just because it is difficult to
decide from without whether such communion has been
enjoyed or not, and because it is a claim very likely to be
made in a variety of cases where it has never occurred, the
strictness of the Church in regulating the activities and

expression of her mystics is not only natural but desirable.

But for it delusion would occur in more cases than it does
at present, where actual deceit did not; any unwilling-
ness to fulfil a duty could be backed up with a possibly
apocryphal divine communication, and what would be
the most undesirable result of all the personal will would
stand in great danger of being developed instead of anni-
hilated. It is just because mysticism is peculiarly open to
these and similar abuses that the control of the Church is of
such value; but in guarding against imitations of true
mysticism she has so narrowed her field that a great deal
of what is unquestionably true must remain outside, and of
those who are within her limits a certain number must
suffer the fate of Molinos. Those who remain will be her

highest and her most dangerous possession, inasmuch as at

the most vital moments of their lives they sweep aside all
mediation and bow their will to no representative on earth,
but to the God Whom they have learned to know within
the sanctuary of themselves.
 Chapter Four
E PRINCIPLES OF OBEDIENCE. POV-
;erty,
and charity were the foundations of St.
Francis' life, both interior and exterior. They
ere not incumbent on him as a consequence of
his ordination to the diaconate, for they are not part of the
dedication even of full priesthood as such, but reserved for
those who expressly embrace the monastic life; but there
is no question as to his
having recognized their supreme
importance as aids to self-annihilation. To be literally
correct, they are not so much aids to this as subdivisions
of it: they do not only make for it, but in their full observ-
ance accomplish it. To be utterly obedient, contentedly
chaste is to leave no part of the lower
poor, and universally
self in activity, which may clamour for its own needs or
insist on its separateness from the contrasted world. That
St. Francis succeeded in effecting such an annihilation will
not be questioned by anyone conversant with the main
fa&s of his life: it is the negative side which made possible
his final free and full communion with God. The three
principles were for him the conditions of spiritual progress,
and inasmuch as such progress was the purpose of his
foundation of the Order of the Lesser Brethren, he enjoined
the virtues of obedience, poverty, and chastity at the
beginning of both the First and Second Rules. They
stand, therefore, as the beginning and the first step of the
"
Franciscan life: The Rule and life of these brothers is
this namely, to live in obedience and chastity, and without
:

1
It will be necessary, therefore, in this and
property."
Writings, p. 32. The same words occur in the first chapter of the
1

Second Rule, ibid., p. 64.

 )

5V. Francis of Assist

subsequent chapters to inquire what interpretation St.
Francis placed on this branch of his teaching. And, for
the moment, of his conception of obedience and the renun-
ciation of the personal will implied thereby.
St. Francis was nothing if not thorough. Obedience
was tohim not a thirty to be trifled with, but a matter of
the firl importance, land his attitude with regard to it is
characterized by the directness and whole-heartedness
which he showed on all the critical questions of his life.
It has been suggested that his idea of it was drawn from
the romances of chivalry which had so great a vogue in
Italy in his time and played so large a part in forming his
method of expression. 1 The Provencal origin of his
mother helped without question to give his mind a turn in
the direction of romance, and the vigour of his poetic
temperament hailed with delight the setting of pageantry
and splendour of the tales of chivalry; but it is probable
that his view of obedience was founded on something
deeper and more profoundly fundamental than the con-
ception of the fealty of knighthood. The thoroughness of
his obedience and the trenchancy of his teaching thereon
suggest the clear conviction of the mystic whose sole pur-
pose is to order his life in such a manner that it may lead
him to the sight and the knowledge of God, and it seems
truer to say that he vitalized the conceptions of chivalry
than that he drew from them his own attitude. The terms
of chivalry, in a word, are the dress in which he clothed his
convictions and aspirations, rather than the source from
which they came.
The necessity for the complete annihilation of the per-
sonal will finds its extreme expression in a conversation
with some of the brethren, which it is difficult to place in
St. Francis was lamenting the fa6t that
point of time.

1
Father Cuthbert, Life of St. Francis, p. 204.
84
THE ROCCA MAGGIORE AND ASSIS1

face f. 84
 St. Francis of Assist
perfect obedience to their Superior was rare among
Religious, and on being asked in what "the perfect and
supreme obedience consisted, answered: Take a corpse,
and put it where you please, you will see that it does not
resist being moved, grumbles not at its position, and if let
alone, does not cry out. If it be placed on a throne it will
look, not above, but beneath; if arrayed in purple its
pallor will be doubled. This is the truly obedient man ; he
discusses not wherefore he is moved, cares not where he is
placed, does not press to be transferred elsewhither. When
raised to office he keeps his wonted humility; the more he
*
is honoured, the more
unworthy he deems himself to be."
His latest biographer places this conversation at the period
when St. Francis was greatly distressed by the troubles
threatening the Order, and gave way to despondency as to
its future. He sees in it the lack of that note of jubilancy
in self-submission which was normal to St. Francis, and
considers that undue emphasis is laid on the submission
rather than on the charity which impels thereto. 2 It may
well be that the darkness of the horizon at the moment
caused a certain sombreness of expression on the part of
St. Francis, but the teaching is paralleled on another
occasion when he would appear rather to be clothed with
"
his customary joyfulness. At the end of the Salutation
of the Virtues," in which he treats first of poverty and love
and their effects on those who follow them, he writes :
"
Holy obedience confounds all bodily and fleshly desires
and keeps the body mortified to the obedience of the spirit
and to the obedience of one's brother and makes a man
subject to all men of this world and not to men alone, but
also to all beasts and wild animals, so that they may do
with him whatsoever they will, in so far as it may be granted
1
Gelano, ii, 152. Cf. Mirror, xlviii; Bonaventure, vi, 4.
2
Father Cuthbert, Life of St. Francis, pp. 310, 311. M. Sabatier
takes a similar view (Vie, chap, xv, pp. 298-301).

85
 Sf. Francis of Assisi
to them from above by the Lord." 1 Another biographer
sees in this a
conception of obedience which is almost
Buddhist in character, but recognizes that it was not the
result of a
passing fancy, but expressive of the attitude of
2
St. Francis on
many occasions of his life.
But instead of regarding his views as drawing from
chivalry, or being comparable to Buddhism, is it not
possible that they are simply Christian, and of that essential
Christianity which is mystical ? Have these pronounce-
ments, in fact, anything in their implications which is not
presupposed by the doctrine of self-annihilation ? The
comparison of the perfectly obedient man to a dead body
portrays a condition in which the personal will is utterly
and finally destroyed; and in which, therefore, evil treat-
ment and good are received with an equal mind simply
because nothing is left in which the tendency to resent-
ment may exist. For to resent a thing is to insist on
separateness, and to insist on separateness is to increase it,
and to increase it is to build fortifications and a barrier
against God.
evident that this extreme of obedience is on the
It is

negative side of spiritual progress. It is the destruction of

the personal will in preparation for the final state in which
the activity is the activity of God, and man is, as it were,
galvanized into movement by the will that is universal.
Its value is not in itself, but in that obedience to the spirit
in which St. Francis claims that holy obedience will result.
The vital point of obedience from the side of spiritual
training was to St. Francis that in fulfilling the command
of a Superior there should be no suggestion of a brother
doing also his own will. From the point of view of the
is of little
regulation of a community it is evident that it
moment whether the members obey their Superior because
1
Writings, p. 21.
2
Joergensen, St. Franfois fdssise, book iv, chap, iii, p. 426.
86
 St. Francis of Assist
they will what he because they subject their wills
wills, or
to his in all cases is on the whole on the
the advantage
side of similarity of desire in that it promotes smoothness
of working but from the point of view of self-annihila-
tion it is
equally evident that little
progress is made by
fulfilling under obedience a personal desire. It is an
"
impertinence to say Thy will be done," to either God or
man, when our own will approves the action. The whole
purpose of obedience is to do violence to the limited will,
and it is far from impossible for that will to contribute
towards the intensification of its own self-satisfaction by
the pride it takes in pretending to do under obedience,
what, in fact, it does as the result of its own prompting.
Commands issued on request were therefore distinguished
by St. Francis from obediences properly so called the first :

he very fittingly spoke of as licences, and reserved the name

of obedience for those which were enjoined without any
previous demand. He saw, moreover, one kind of obedi-
ence which was typical of all that was valuable, in the desire
to preach among the infidels and run the risk of martyrdom
thereby. In it he recognized that flesh and blood the
self-centred part had no lot, and he was not only willing,
but anxious, that the brethren should ask for this obedience.
In such a desire for self-sacrifice he saw that at any rate the
baser kind of self-seeking did not enter. 1
It has been already noticed that St. Francis recognized
the danger of appropriating goodness to a self which is by
2
its nature
incapable of producing it, and in such appropria-
tion lay for him the essence of self will. Referring to the
account in Genesis of the apple of the Tree of Knowledge of
Good and Evil, he wrote: " Adam therefore might eat of
every tree of paradise and so long as. he did not offend
against obedience he did not sin. For one eats of the tree
1
Celano, ii, 152; Mirror, xlviii.
2
See above, chap. ii.

87
 St. Francis of Assist
of knowledge of good who appropriates to himself his own
will and prides himself upon the goods which the Lord
publishes and works in him, and thus, through the sug-r
gestion of the devil and transgression of the command-
l
ment, he finds the apple of the knowledge of evil." It is
clear enough that in this saying St. Francis recognized,
and laid emphasis on, the difference between the will in its
natural state and in a condition of sanctification. He
avoided the pitfall of loose thinking wherein resides the
conclusion that it is the will in itself that is evil, and the will
therefore that is to be destroyed; it was for him the will in
so far as it was identified with the lower self-centred part
which was undesirable, and therefore to be replaced by an
identification of the will with that element in man which is
divine. It was not the fact of willing that he deprecated,
but a will unsanctified by dedication. For on the will as the
force and motive power of man depends all his hope; his
salvation is in its right direction towards the universality
of God, and what measure of damnation is possible in its
direction towards his own personal ends. It is, in the
words of St. Francis, the tree of the knowledge of good, but
"
in appropriating it to the lower self is the apple of the
knowledge of evil." He regarded it, it would seem, as
capable of all
good but subject to misuse, and in its prosti-
tution to inferior uses was the root of sin. For obedience is
ultimately to God alone.
This point of view recurs continually, in that it is the
final answer to
every impulse towards self-praise. In his
instructions to the brethren on preaching, which were incor-
porated in the First Rule, he reminds them that they must
"
refer all goodGod:
to let us acknowledge that all good

belongs to Him, and let us give thanks for all to Him from
whom all good proceeds." 2 And the Fioretti recount that
1
Writings, p. 8, Admonition 2.
2
First Rule, chap, xvii (Writings, p. 52).
 Sf. Francis of Assisi
he explained to Brother Masseo that his own inadequacy
and worthlessness rendered him a particularly apt inslm-
raent for his work, inasmuch as no one could possibly
imagine that a man such as he was capable of effecting
good by his" own power. He was chosen to the end that
the world may know that every virtue* and every good
thing is of Him and not of the creature," and it was in the
vivid realization of this that was founded St. Francis*
sincere humility. He did not merely aim at humility as a
means, but finally discovered it to be an inevitable end
the only attitude compatible with the truth by his experi-
ence of the Spirit of God. 2
To seek approval or congratulation or even gratitude, is,
therefore, to lay the emphasis on that which is separated
and apart from those who accord them, rather than on that
which is one with them essentially and for ever. For this
reason St. Francis, when discussing the attitude of the
Lesser Brethren to their Ministers, reminded them that for
God they had renounced their own will, and obedience to
their Superiors was one manner in which they could show
3
that such a renunciation was sincere. But for the intense
and enthusiastic nature of St. Francis it was not sufficient
to obey only the express commands of the Superior. To do
what was commanded was a necessity, but to await its
expression in the form of a direct injunction savoured too
greatly of the formalism which he always dreaded, to
satisfy him completely. For him any occasion to subject
1
Little Flowers, x.
2
It is compare with this recognition of the indwelling
interesting to
God as the doer ofgood, the passages from Lady Julian where she
all
" each kind
says that compassion that man hath on his even-Christians
with charity, it is Christ in 'him," and that Christ "is nearest and
meekest, highest and lowest, and doeth all. And not only all that we
need, but also He doeth all that is worshipful, to our joy in heaven."
(Revelations of Divine Love, chaps, xxviii and Ixxx).
3
Second Rule of the Friars Minor, chap. 10 (Writings, p. 72).
 St. Francis of Assist
the personal will to that of another was to be hailed as an
opportunity to wrench the will away from its servitude to
the ends of division as a practice, if as nothing more.
"
It is recorded, therefore, that if a subject brother should
not only hear the voice of a superior brother but should
understand his will, he ought forthwith to concentrate
himself wholly on obedience and do what he understands
1
by any sign to be the superior's will."
The. principle of subjection was not only the subject of
his teaching to the brethren, but was followed by St.
Francis in his own case. It is not entirely impossible that
the renunciation of the leadership of his Order was in some
degree prompted by the desire to school himself into
complete obedience, and give to the brethren at large an
example of absolute willingness to serve rather than com-
mand. This was not, it is evident, the sole reason for his
resignation, but it may well have entered into his consider-
ation of the question. It occurred at the Michaelmas
2
Chapter of I22O, a few months after his return from the
Holy Land. During his journey there the Order had
begun to lose its primitive harmony, and the two Vicars
left behind by St. Francis had been interfering with the
wise simplicity of the Rule. A
discontented brother had
collected round him a body of similarly dissatisfied brethren,
and had even gone to the length of attempting to get from
the Pope an approval for a Rule for his sect. 3 In addition
to these troubles, and to the fact that St. Francis never
considered himself in the light of an organizer, 4 his eyes

1
Celano, i, 45.
a
Joergensen, St. Francois cfAssise, book iii, chap, viii, p. 314; Saba-
tier, Vie de Sf. Francois, chap, xiv, p. 272.
3
Joergensen, op. cit., book iii, chap, vii, p. 309.
*
Sabatier, op. cit., chap, xiv, p. 281. Cf. L. L. Dubois, S.M.,
St. Francis of Assist, Social Reformer, New York, 1906, pp. 116 et

seq.

90
 St. Francis of Assisi
were causing him great trouble; 1 and this accumulation
of 'disasters inclined him to the conclusion that on all
grounds it was desirable that he should resign. But the
resignation once accomplished, St. Francis' recognition of
the desirability of having someone to whom he could sub-
ject his own will caused him to ask the newly appointed
Minister General to apportion to him someone whom he
could obey directly in his place. He had previously
promised obedience to the Minister General as the ruler
o: the Order, but he seems to have considered that a more
' '
immediate obedience was necessary. I ask thee for God's

sake," he said, therefore, to Peter Cathanii, whom he had

"
just appointed, to entrust thy charge concerning me to
one of my companions, to whom, as to thyself, I may yield
reverent obedience. I know the fruit of obedience and I
know that to one who has put his neck under the yoke of
another, no time passes without gain." In his view of
obedience the merit did not lie in the virtue or wisdom of
him to whom the obedience was given, but simply in the
"
fact of giving it: Among other things which God's
mercy has deigned to grant me, it has bestowed on me this
grace, that I would obey a novice of an hour's standing,
were he assigned to me as warden, as carefully as I would
any one however ancient or discreet. A subject ought to
consider his Superior not as a man, but as Him for whose
sake he is in subjection; and the more contemptible the
ruler, themore pleasing the humility of the subject who
2
obeys."
Side by side with this insistence on obedience there are
to be found, in St. Francis' life, evidences of a considerable
independence. He does not appear as naturally submissive
to authority or as having had any striking respect for what
1
Joergensen, op. fit., book in, chap, viii, p. 314. Cf. Mirror, Ixxi,
for St. Francis' own account of the reasons for his resignation.
a
Celano, ii, 1 5 1 . Cf. Mirror, xlvi ; Legend, xiv, 57 ; Bonaventure, vi, 4.

91
 St. Francis of Assisi
authority commanded, as such, though he recognized the
incidental value of obedience thereto. Above the authority
of the Church he recognized a higher power that of the
convictions which he regarded as divinely implanted in
himself and the history of his relations with the Church
is the
history of a struggle between these"two forces. It is
useless, in face of the facts, to claim that his obedience to

authority, evenon points where he thought his own views

were preferable to those of authority, is one of the most
striking and admirable characteristics of St. Francis*
"
character," or to state that the foundation of all his
religious life was an absolute and unreserved submission to
the Roman Church." 1 Unreserved submission to the
Church would mean a close adherence to all the Church's
institutions as such, an adherence which would be as com-
plete in the details as on the larger questions, and would
make any deviation therefrom an impossibility.
In this matter of detail there are certain incidents in St.
Francis' career which indicate some measure of careless-
ness on his part with respect to the meticulous submission
with which he is occasionally credited. In themselves they
do not suffice for proof in one direction rather than another,
but they are unquestionably indicative of his attitude. It is
reported of him that he would eat on fast-days so that the
sick might not be ashamed to eat, 2 and it is clear that if an
observance of the Church's rules had been of the first
importance to him, this would not have been possible.
But his compassion was greater than his attention to eccle-
siastical ordinances, and in the face of his love and his
desire for even the physical welfare of his brethren those
ordinances counted as nothing. His general attitude is
also suggested by an incident which occurred at the Porti-
1
See Joergensen, St. Francois (PAnlse, Appendix I, p. 504, and book
iii, chap, ii, p. 227.
2
Celano, ii, 175.
92
 St. Francis of Assist
uncula. It was part of the Rule on which St. Francis had
decided that on entry to the Order a novice should give up
all his money and start his new life
possessing nothing
whatsoever. On an occasion when the Portiuncula was
crowded with brethren drawn from all parts of the country,
it became evident to Peter Cathanii, who was then Vicar,

that there would be a considerable deficiency even of the

necessities with which to support them. He suggested,
therefore, that St. Francis should allow some of the novices'
property to be kept, and utilized for that and similar
occasions. St. Francis, insistent as ever on a scrupulous
observance of his rule of poverty, forbade it immediately,
and suggested a substitute which would have been im-
possible for anyone to whom reverence
"
for the details of
observance were paramount. Strip the Virgin's altar,"
"
he said, and take away its various ornaments, since thou
canst not help the needy in any other way. Believe me,
she will be better pleased to have her Son's Gospel observed
and her altar stript, than to have the altar vested and her
Son despised." l And at another time, when an old woman,
whose two sons were among the brethren, asked for alms
and there was nothing left to give her, St. Francis told his
Vicar to give her their only New Testament, for he was
convinced that the gift of it would be more pleasing than
the reading out of it. 2 As the brethren had at that time no
breviary, the New Testament was the only book in which
the lessons at Matins could be found, but it is every way
characteristic of St. Francis that he was not deterred from
an act of goodwill by any considerations of possible dis-
pleasure on the part of authority.
On the larger and more direct question of submission to
the Church as such, his independence and originality are
no less evident at certain times of his life. It would be
1
Celano, ii, 67 ; Bonaventure, vii, 4.
2
Celano, ii, 91 ; Mirror, xxxviii.;
93
 St. Francis of Assist
going against the facts to say that he was in a condition of
open rebellion, and against the whole tendency of his life
to deny that in the main he was obedient to its leading,
but there were definite occasions on which he forced his
own God-sent convictions on a very unwilling authority.
The approval of the Primitive Rule that he wrote for the
brethren is one of these. On his arrival at Rome with his
few brethren St. Francis made his way in all innocence
direct to the Pope, a proceeding which so scandalized the
Vicar of Christ that he sent him away on the spot, and told
him to go and roll in the dirt with the pigs. 1 Somewhat
crestfallen at sounexpected a reception St. Francis went
away, and shortly afterwards met the Bishop of Assisi, who
was on a visit to the Papal Court. To him St. Francis
unfolded his plan, and the Bishop, having some personal
knowledge of him and a considerable faith in his sincerity,
introduced him to an influential Cardinal, John of St. Paul.
St. Francis therefore told his story over again, and ex-

plained his desire to lead a life of strict evangelical poverty

and his wish to receive the approval of the Pope for his
Rule. But the Cardinal demurred. He objected in the
first
place to the foundation of a new Order, and did his
best to persuade St. Francis to enter one of the already
existing monasteries. To this St. Francis answered that
he did not propose either to become a hermit or to enter a
monastery: his only purpose was to observe the Gospel as
"
simply as possible. He was, as Celano says, carried on
by a still loftier desire."
Failing to convince him of the
desirability of conformity in this respect, the Cardinal
suggested that the difficulty of the proposed Rule would be
so great as to make it almost impossible of observance, and
that it would be much better to mitigate it in various ways
that he suggested. But to this suggestion, as to the former
1
Cuthbert, Life of St. Francis, p. 8 1 and note.
94
 St. Francis of Assisi
one, St. Francis showed an unchanging front in face of
the specific recommendation of one of the highest digni-
taries of the Church he held to his conviction that the Rule
he had proposed was the best, and that to enter a monastery
would be to destroy its main purpose. This absolute and
most unexpected firmness on the part of a humble suppliant
ended by overcoming the Cardinal's objections, and he
therefore recommended St. Francis and his followers to
Pope Innocent III with considerable warmth of apprecia-
tion.
But the Pope in his turn raised practically the same
objections as the Cardinal. The Rule was too severe those
who came immediate founders would be unable
after the
to bear it humannature was frail .and changeable, and
the way of perfection was hard. St. Francis, however,

replied to this with the same absolute faith and conviction

with which he had replied to Cardinal John of St. Paul,
with the result that he made sufficient impression on the
Pope to ensure another interview shortly afterwards. In
the meantime he prayed, and during his prayer there came
to his mind the parable of the poor woman who was
married to a great king, whose children were ultimately
recognized and provided for by the king himself. On his
return to the Pope he recounted the story, explaining that
he was the poor woman and God the king, and adding his
conviction that God would provide for the brethren in their
poverty. Meanwhile, the Pope had had the dream which
has been immortalized by Giotto on the walls of the Upper
Church at Assisi, wherein he saw the Lateran on the point
of falling and being held up by a small religious whom
he afterwards recognized as St, Francis. The final result
was that St. Francis carried the day the simplicity of his
immovable conviction prevailed against the arguments of
the Pope and all his court, and he departed full of joy>
with the papal benediction and authority to preach to the
95
 St. Francis of Assist
1
people. Whatever were the final results of this approval,
whether for the good or evil of the Franciscan movement
as a whole, it was a clear victory for the conviction of the

mystic as against the doubt, as also against the formal-

ism, of the Church.
Another incident which is typical of this same liberty of
view was in connection with the much discussed Indulg-
ence of the Portiuncula. That the Indulgence was actually
demanded by St. Francis is now accepted by all his latest

biographers, and a vast amount of erudition has been

2
expended to prove its authenticity. The main features of
the story are that in the summer of 1 2 1 6 some six years
after the approval of the Rule by Pope Innocent III St.
Francis had a vision during prayer, in which Christ directed
him to demand from the Pope a plenary indulgence for all
who should visit the Church of the Portiuncula. Filled
with the impulse of this communication, firm in the cer-
tainty of its fulfilment, St. Francis went forthwith to
Perugia to make his petition to the Pope. This time it was
to Honorius III, then newly elected, that his application
was made. The demand naturally amazed him: plenary
indulgences were at that time reserved for the Crusaders,
and the normal indulgence for a church was very much
more restricted as to time. Moreover, St. Francis asked
for the indulgence without making any offering on his own
part, a fact which was not calculated to hasten the papal
consent. Honorius therefore objected. St. Francis
insisted: he explained that he did not want an indulgence
for so many years, that he was not concerned with years,
1
Celano, i, 47-52 ; Bonaventure, Hi, 9-10. See
32-3; Legend, xii,
also Cuthbert, Life, pp. 81-5 Joergensen, St. Francois, book ii, chap, ii,
;

pp. 1 21-33 5 Sabatier, Fie, chap, vi, pp. 107-16.

;

2
See Sabatier, Un nouveau Chapitre de la Vie de St. Francois ; Joer-
gensen, St. book iii, chap, iii, and Appendix I ; Cuthbert,
Francois,
Life, book ii, and Appendix II. At the end of this appendix is
chap, vii,
a bibliography of the chief writings on the subjeft.

96
 St. Francis of Assist
but with souls; that he desired that whoever should come
"
to the Church, confessed and contrite and absolved by a
priest, should be freed from all guilt and penalty both in
heaven and on earth, from the day of their baptism till the
hour of their entry into this church." The Pope objected
again that he was asking too much, and that it was not the
cuslom of the Church to grant such an indulgence. Then
the answer came, sharp and decisive the words of the
mystic who is without fear or hesitation because he knows
"
that his commission is from God My
Lord, what I ask
is not from
myself but from Him Who sent me, the Lord
Jesus Christ." And to St. Francis speaking in the name
of all that was highest in himself, and in the conviction of
his message's divinity, Honorius bowed as Innocent had
bowed before him, and as all authority musT: bow now and
"
for ever to the ultimate authority of the spirit. It is my
will that you have what you seek," he said twice over, and
the influence of all his court could not cause him to revoke
his word. The cardinals, realizing that such an indulgence
would go far to nullify the effedl of the indulgence granted
to those who should go on the Crusades, used all their
power to secure its revocation, but only succeeded in per-
suading Honorius to reslrift it to one day in every year,
and that the day of the dedication of the Church. 1 It seems
probable that it was due also to the efforts of the cardinals
and the clergy in general that the news of the Indulgence
was kept practically unknown for so many years that its
authenticity has since been doubted. But the amazing
request was granted against all precedent; and thus in the
face of the express unwillingness of the Pope himself, and
in defiance of the advice of the whole College of Cardinals
and the wishes of the priesthood in every part, St. Francis
gained his point. He had no power to enforce his demand,

1
See Cuthbert, Life, p. 193, and Legend, xix, 74.

97 *
 St. Francis of Assisi
there was no sanction whatever on which to fall back : he
triumphed by the sheer force of his conviction that the
impulse that had come to him as a vision was really divine.
Is it possible, in the face of his opposition to and his
"
conquest over two successive Popes, to maintain that his
submission is one of his most striking and admirable
"
characteristics ?

But it cannot be claimed, on the other hand, that St.

Francis was invariably successful in his struggle against
the formalism and the opportunism of authority. His
fight for the observance of strict poverty is a matter of
common knowledge to those in any degree acquainted with
his life, as is the result in which the Church succeeded in
so distorting his conception of it as to rob it of its chief
purpose. The Hugolin Rule for the Poor Ladies may
stand as an example. Cardinal Hugolin, afterwards Pope
Gregory IX, drew up a constitution for the followers of
St. Clare, during St. Francis* absence in the East, in which
the Franciscan ideal of poverty was practically disregarded.
Property was allowed, "the freedom of life gave place to
rigid ordinances of perpetual abstinence, continual
silence, and the law of enclosure," and the Constitutions
"
tried to capture the new religious enthusiasm evoked by
Francis and to fasten it within the closest bonds of tradi-
*
tional asceticism." In the case of San Damiano, the home
of St. Clare and of the original Poor Ladies, St. Francis
took over the guidance of the sisters on his return from the
Holy Land, and so secured to them the privilege of literal
poverty; but in the case of the many other communities
the Hugolin Constitutions obtained until shortly after
St. Clare's death. Ultimately she, too, triumphed over the

Pope, but it2was not till twenty-four years after the death of
St. Francis, The Second Rule of the Friars Minor is a
further case where the dearest wishes of St. Francis were
1 2
Cuthbert, Life, p. 246. Ibid,^ pp. 145-7, 24.5-8.
98
 St. Francis of Assist
ignored, and he was forced by his advisers to omit what
was to him the foundation of his whole position. " Take
nothing for your journey, neither staff nor scrip nor bread
nor money": this had been the distinctive mark of all
his attitude, and yet it was allowed no place in the Second
Rule which was to go down to posterity as representing the
finalwishes of the Saint. 1
But beside the fact of St. Francis having forced his con-
victions on authority on the one hand, and on the other of
his having been unwillingly compelled to cede to authority
in the long run some of his most precious conceptions,
there is the fact that some six years before his death he
committed his Order to the care of the Church. It may
seem that such an action is evidence of a reverence for
authority as such a feeling that, at the last, submission to
the Church is a necessary proceeding even on the part of a
reformer, if he be in fact a member of it but in the pre-
sent case St. Francis* action seems to have been prompted
by other considerations. He had just returned from the
Holy Land and found the Order in a chaotic condition of
difference ; divisions were arising among the brethren, and
the Rule he had left behind him had been seriously tam-
pered with by the Vicars. His mind, therefore, naturally
turned in search of some means of organizing more effect-
ively the ever-increasing body of the brethren, and with an
equal naturalness he concluded that the Church was the
obvious authority to which to apply. He saw himself as a
small black hen surrounded by innumerable chickens that
sought refuge under her wings, and because of her own
lack of strength she could not protect them. He therefore
"
decided, as Celano expresses it, to go and commend them
to the
holy Church of Rome, that by the rod of her power
1
See Joergensen, book iii, chap, xii, pp. 374-8 ; Cuth-
St. Francois,

bert, Life, pp. 322-4.. Cf. Sabatier, Vie, chap, xv, for a discussion of the
extent to which the Second Rule fell short of St. Francis' wishes.

99
 St. Francis of
x
Assist
the ill-disposed may be smitten and the children of God
enjoy full freedom everywhere, to the increase of eternal
salvation." St. Francis was not therefore actuated by any
particular impulse to conformity, but by the desire to gain
the Church's protection so that the brethren might observe
their Gospel rule simply and without interference. This,
"
as Celano observes, was the whole intention of the Saint
of God when he determined so to commend himself.
These were the holy teachings of the man of God's fore-
sight concerning the necessity for such a measure against
the time to come." 1 He asked, and obtained, Cardinal
Hugolin as Protector, as a special Pope to whom access
would always be possible for the humblest of the brethren;
but how far he was justified in his belief that such a move
would enable the brethren to keep the Rule in its original
simplicity is shown by the distortion of his wishes in the
Second Rule. 2 His idea of the Church in its relation to the
Order was that it should be protective and executive apart :

from such action St. Francis protested continually against

the unnecessary use of authority.
It is not difficult to conceive his views oh this question.
He had quite definitely taken the life of Christ as portrayed
in the Gospels as the model on which he desired to form his
own life, and even when the interpolations of pious bio-
graphers have been duly discounted (as, for instancej his
birth in a stable and the episode with the pilgrim who
3
represents the Simeon of the Gospel story ) the fact remains
that the tenor of his life was strikingly similar to that of
Christ.
4
He had that childlike directness and that amazing
1
Celano, ii, 24-5 ; Mirror, Ixxviii ; Legend, xvi, 63-5.
2
See Joergensen and Sabatier, he. tit.
8
See Joergensen, St. Franfois, book i, chap, ii, pp. 11-13.
4
The Liber Conformitatum of Bartholomew of Pisa is entirely con-
cerned with tracing resemblances between the life of St. Francis and
that of Christ,
IOQ
 St. Francis of \Assisi
spiritual sincerity which can effect more than all the
authority in the world, and it was his firm conviction that to
gain influence in high places was of less value than to give
these qualities free play in working for the spiritual better-
ment of mankind. The whole of his struggle against
absorption by authority was the struggle of a man per-
suaded that by suffering with gratitude and patience
whatever might arrive, he could do more than by utilizing
the contrivances of diplomacy and power. It was in the
humility of Christ put into action that he placed his trust
the humility which is founded on an almost superhuman
strength because it is rooted in an almost superhuman
degree of love and faith. To suffer joyfully whatever may
arrive is prime evidence of such a love, and it is by a life
founded thereon that the dulled and careworn hearts of
men are touched to admiration and hope. In the case of
St. Francis his passionate desire was to fulfil literally the
precepts of humility and long-suffering, for he seems to
have had that literalness which is often found in company
with a vivid poetical imagination. But authority, in the
shape of the Church and those of the brethren who had
seized his main idea with a less sympathetic comprehension
than the rest, was for ever putting hindrances in the way of
such a literalness. On the man who longed to face the
world with no other protection than that of Christ, they
forced the doubtful benefits of privileges and influence.
Yet it was not without a passionate protest on the part of
St. Francis.
On one occasion (it is suggested that it was after the
unsuccessful first missionary journey to Germany 1) some of
the brethren were complaining that they were refused per-
mission to preach by the bishops, and suggested that it
would be better if St. Francis obtained a privilege from the
Pope which would allow them complete freedom in this
1
Cuthbert, Life, p. 24.3.
IOI
 St. Francis of Assisi
respect. They pleaded that it would be really for the" salva-
tion of souls, but St. Francis would have none of it. You,
"
Friars Minor," he is reported as saying, know not the
will of God, and do not allow me to convert the whole
world as God willeth. For I wish by perfect humility and
reverence first to convert the prelates. Who, when they
shall see our holy life and humble reverence towards them,
shall beseech you to preach and convert the people, and

they shall call them to the preaching better than your privi-
leges which would lead you into pride. . . . But as for me,
I desire this privilege from the Lord, that never may I have

any privilege from man, except to do reverence to all, and

to convert the world by obedience to the holy Rule rather
1
by example than by word."
But this notwithstanding, letters of commendation to
the brethren were issued by the Pope in 1219, with the
intention of gaining the protection of the bishops in the
countries to which they might go, and in the following
year another letter was sent to the French bishops, while it
became customary for the cardinals to give letters on their
own part to brethren going on missionary journeys. 2 But
to the end St. Francis protested against a protection which
was in effect an unwarranted interference with both the
purpose and the method of the Lesser Brethren. The
danger of it was present in his mind when he wrote his
will, and his attitude is shown
clearly so therein that
may it
"
be well to quote the passage verbatim. I strictly enjoin

by obedience on all the brothers that, wherever they may

be, they should not dare, either themselves or by means of
some interposed person, to ask any letter in the Roman
curia either for a church or for any other place, nor under
pretext of preaching, nor on account of their bodily perse-
cution ; but wherever they are not received let them flee to

1 2
Mirror, 1. Cuthbert, Life, pp. 24.2-4.
I O2
 St. Francis of Assist
1
another land to do penance, with the blessing of God."
Such a categorical prohibition, enjoined as an obedience,
which to St. Francis was always the most solemn form of
injunction, leaves no room for doubt as to the dislike with
which he regarded the growing tendency to substitute the
authority of the Church for the living and vivid force of
spiritual sincerity.
For the rest, St. Francis displayed throughout his whole
lifethat independence with regard to authority as such
which he had evinced in his dealing with Popes Innocent
III and Honorius III. It is true that in the Second Rule
he was not so successful as he had been on former occasions,
and the Pope would not allow him to give the brethren per-
mission to observe the Rule in its full literalness, even
against the desires of the ministers. It was altered so that
the liberty to observe the Rule literally rested with the
ministers, and not with the subject, which was a conclusion
2
in direct opposition to the wishes of St. Francis. But it is
admitted that this Rule was a distortion of the Franciscan
ideals in the interests of ecclesiasticism : the free scope of
that which had been inspired by the spirit gave way to the
narrowing influence of the wisdom of this world : and there
are more occasions than one on which St. Francis expressed
his views with regard to the dues of authority. It would
seem that the key to some of his apparently conflicting pro-
nouncements on the subject is as has been already
suggested the fact that obedience was to him a means
of spiritual progress : he is not concerned with its value or
desirability $er se and as evidence of submission to the
Church, but as a means to a vastly higher end.
In St. Francis' view the original Rule approached per-
fection as nearly as might be, as it was founded on and
1

Writings, p. 84.
2
See Cuthbert, Life^ p. 323 ; Joergensen, St. Francois, book iii, chap,
xii, pp. 371-3.

103
 Sf. Francis of Assisi
drawn from the Gospels both in spirit and very often in
word.1
To him therefore the observance of it was the
observance of a counsel more calculated to promote
spiritual advance than any other which had been or could
be imagined by man. He considered that it had been
given to him by direct revelation without any human
2
mediation, and throughout all his life he believed that it
contained the highest truths of the spiritual life. It was
therefore paramount, and strict obedience to it could not
result in formalism and spiritual death because it was
instinct with the very message of life. the
It breathes

spirit of expansion and outgoing and love, and these things

are the antithesis of the bondage of obedience for its own
sake* The original Rule as approved by Innocent III
suffered a variety of changes as time went on and the needs
of the brethren differed, and the First Rule as it stands now
comprises the original Rule together with the additions
made to it on various occasions. The sources from which
these additions came were chiefly decisions made at succes-
sive Chapters to meet necessities as they arose, and ideas
which occurred to St. Francis as time passed. 3 It is then a
composite document, but one which still represents the
spirit of St. Francis with some vividness.
This spirit seems very evident in a passage where he
"
exhorts the brethren diligently to obey them [the
ministers] in those things which look to the salvation of the
soul and are not contrary to our life." 4 Here it is clear that
obedience in itself is not that which is finally desirable, for
liberty is given to the subject to disobey his minister, who-
ever he may be and of however high place, if he commands

1 2
See Celano, i, 32. See his will (Writings, p. 83).
3
See Cuthbert, Life, Appendix I, for a discussion and analysis of the
First Rule, with suggestions as to those parts of it which are primitive.
Cf. Paschal Robinson, Writings of St. Francis, pp. 25-3 1.
4
First Rule, chap, iv (Writings, p. 36).

104
 St. Francis of Assist
"
anything which is contrary to our life." The life here is
the life of absolute simplicity and poverty, and adherence
to it is placed higher than obedience. It will be remem-
bered that it was just this liberty which was denied to the
brethren in the Second Rule, much against the wishes of
St. Francis: the value which he placed on it is shown by
the frequency with which references to the same idea occur.
"
In the fifth chapter of the First Rule he wrote: if how-
ever one of the ministers should command some one of the
brothers anything contrary to our life or against his soul,
the brother is not bound to obey him, because that is not
obedience in which a fault or sin is committed." 1 And
again in one of the Admonitions he explained that if a
subject simply considers that something would be better or
more useful to his soul than what his Superior has com-
manded him, he is to sacrifice his will and fulfil the in-
junction of the Superior. But if the Superior should
command anything that is actually against his soul, it is
permissible for the subject to disobey, though he must not
leave the Superior and must be ready to suffer persecution
for his disobedience. The prospect which is held out to the
subject not, therefore, one calculated to inspire
is him with
the idea of disobedience for the mere joy of it. A passing
thought that he knows better than his Superior is insufficient
as an excuse for disobeying him; it must be something
which is actually against his own soul that is the only
"
reason for revolt. For there are many religious who,
under pretext of seeing better things than those which their
Superiors command, look back and return to the vomit of
their own will. These are homicides and by their bad
1
Writings, p. 37. Cf. Letter to All the Faithful (ibid., p. 103). Father
Cuthbert considers that both these chapters are later additions, probably
of capitular origin. They are not for this reason less representative of
the attitude of St. Francis, whose opinion would naturally carry the
greatest weight in the meetings of the Chapters.

105
 St. Francis of Assist
example cause the of many souls.** 1 It is clear, then,
loss
that the personal will of the subject is not the criterion for
" "
obedience or the reverse, but the life as had been laid
down in the original Rule. While St. Francis* hands
were free he would never allow an authority higher than
that the revelation of it which he considered had come to
:

him placed it in a position where no human authority could

reach it. His intention was to legislate for all time, who-
ever his successors might be and yet it was not he who
made the law, but Christ. 2
It is, however, on the question of penance that the most

amazing divergence appears to arise between the official

attitude of the Church and that enjoined by St. Francis.
"
The evidence for it rests upon a letter To a certain
"
Minister (who, it is suggested, was Brother Elias), in
which St. Francis speaks of a regulation he proposes to
"
make at the coming Chapter. If any brother, at the
instigation of the enemy, sin mortally, let him be bound by
obedience to have recourse to his guardian. And let all
the brothers who know him to have sinned, not cause him
shame or slander him, but let them have great mercy on
him and keep very secret the sin of their brother, for they
that are healthy need not a physician, but they that are ill.
And let them be likewise bound by obedience to send him
1

Writings, pp. 8-9, Admonition 3.

2
Cf. in this connexion, Mirror, xi
" Yet often he used to
:
say these
words * Woe to those friars who are contrary to me in this matter,
:

which I firmly know to be the Will of God for the greater usefulness
and necessity of the whole Order, though unwillingly I bend myself to
their will.' Whence often he used to say to us, his fellows : * Herein
is my grief and my affliction ; that in those things which with much

labour of prayer and meditation I obtain of God through His mercy, for
the benefit, present and future, of the whole Order, and which I am
assured by Him are according to His will, some brethren by the author-
ity of their knowledge and false foresight are against me and make
them void, saying "These things are to be held and observed, and these
:

not/""
1 66
 4

St. Francis of Assist

to his custos with acompanion. And let the curios himself
care for him mercifully as he himself would wish to be
cared for by others if he were in a like situation. And if he
should fall into any venial sin, let him confess to his brother
pries!:,
and if there be no priest there let him confess to his
brother until he shall find a priest who shall absolve him
canonically, as has been said, and let them have absolutely
no power of enjoining other penance, save only this:
Go and sin no more." l
On the suggestion that this letter
amounts to a disregard of the necessity of penance the
Catholic Church is- immediately up in arms. Its position,
perhaps inevitably, is that which has been explained by a
"
recent writer in a remark that if ever the conduct or

language of a saint seems to run counter to the Church

which has canonized him, I am as sure of a faulty or incom-
plete text as I am of the infallibility of the Church."
2
It is
not improbable that the parallel is a just one, but it cannot
be maintained that such an attitude makes for an un-
prejudiced view of the point in question.
3
When all the
arguments have been considered it seems clear that the

internal evidence is, on the whole, strongly in favour of a

very definite and divergent attitude having been taken up
by St. Francis, and these apart there are general reasons
which predispose to the belief that St. Francis would not
insist on the necessity of penance. Formed as was his
whole life on the example of the Christ of the Gospels, it is
almost inevitable that he should have conformed to that
pattern, and wished others to conform to it no less, on
one of its most striking points. He would naturally desire
1

Writings, pp. 123-4.

2
Mr. Montgomery Carmichael, in an article on the Writings of St.
Francis (The Month, February 1904, p. 162).
3
For a discussion of the various arguments in conne&ion with the
question of penance see Appendix, where the subjeft is dealt with in
detail.
 Sf. Francis of Assist
that the attitude of the brethren in the presence of sin should
be as nearly as possible that which is recorded of Christ,
and the literal simplicity of taking His actual words as the
key to that attitude suggests, as nothing else could do, that
he took them as applying to sin generally. His desire for
conformity to his pattern would result in the words spring-
ing to his mind automatically when any question as to the
proper treatment of sin was under consideration, and his
whole life is evidence of the fact that he would not willingly
let anything stand between him and the fulfilment of the
the use of the peculiar phrase,
" precepts. Further,
Gospel
any other penance save only this: go and sin no more,"
suggests that St. Francis realized that obedience to such
an injunction constitutes in itself a very real penance. The
strain and the effort required suddenly to break away from
a course of sin, or of anything else, is of itself a penance,
and it would have been repugnant to the whole tenor of
St. Francis* life to import any idea of
punishment where
it was not
absolutely necessary. Ultimately the doing of
is an evidence of the
penance sincerity of the intention to
cease from sin, and the best evidence of such sincerity is
precisely that cessation. When it is effected the only point
of value has been gained, and any idea of subsequent
punishment is indicative of that uninspired stupidity which
has its source in vindictiveness.
The remark, therefore, that the desire to do away with
"
penance is so Franciscan," which has been received with
1
contemptuous amusement by Catholic writers, would seem
to approach the truth as nearly as may be.
The attitude of St. Francis towards the priesthood of his
time is one which has naturally given rise to some difference
of opinion. There are passages in his history which would
suggest that he had a blind reverence for the priest, simply
1
Mr. Carmichael, for example, in the article already referred to, and
Father Robinson, Writings of St. Francis, p. 120.
108
 St. Francis of Assist
because he was a priest and irrespective of all other con-
"
siderations, as when he says: Blessed is the servant of
God who exhibits confidence in clerics who live uprightly
according to the form of the holy Roman Church." But as
x

regards his actual submission to them, he felt that this

should be limited in the same way that the submission of
"
the subjects to their Superiors was to be limited. Let
us hold all Clerics and religious as our masters in those
things which regard
"
the salvation of our souls," he wrote in
his First Rule, if
they do not deviate from our religion,
and let us reverence their office and order and administra-
tion in the Lord." 2 This would seem to contain the germ
of his whole attitude. As far as the priest ruled in accord-
ance with what St. Francis himself felt was the essence of
his religion, as contained in the Rule, obedience to them
was to be absolute beyond that it was to be remembered
:
"
that that is not obedience in which a fault or sin is com-
mitted." But at all times and in all cases the priest was to
command reverence from the brethren, expressly on
account of his office. As he says in the Admonition
"
already quoted in this connection :Woe to those who
despise them for even though they may be sinners, never-
:

theless no one ought to judge them, because the Lord

Himself reserves to Himself alone the right of judging
them. For as the administration with which they are
charged, to wit, of the most holy Body and Blood of our
Lord Jesus Christ, which they receive and which they alone
administer to others is
greater than all others, even so the
sin of those who offend against them is greater than any
3
against all the other men in this world."
There is no question, therefore, of St. Francis having
placed the priesthood on a pedestal in the sense of regarding
1
Writings, p. 1 8, Admonition 26.
a
First Rule, chap, xix (ibid., p. 53).

*'/#</., p. 1 8. Cf. The Letter to All the Faithful (ibief., p. 102).

109
 Sf. Francis of Assist
the priest as immaculately incapable of evil doing his
veneration for him was based not on his function as priest
in general, but as the administrator of the Sacrament. It is

impossible not to see in this attitude a very striking distinc-

tion from the acceptance of and veneration for the priest-
hood on account merely of their position as representatives
of the Church. In so far as they were the officers of a
supreme authority it does not appear to have occurred to
St. Francis to consider them with any
particular respect, or
to have looked up to them as masters or directors of the
spiritual life. But in his appreciation of their office as those
by means ofwhom it is possible to partake'of the benediction
of the Eucharist, is a point of view typical of the mystic.
As all his view rests on the conviction that actual experience
of God is alone supremely desirable, and as in the sacrifice
of the Mass such a communion is in some measure
personal
brought directly within his reach, so it is that therein is to
him all that is most valuable in the Church's ceremonial.
And so clearly is this view of the priest, as the channel by
which such benediction comes, the whole foundation of
St. Francis* respect for the priesthood in general, that it
will be worth while to give in full some further statements
of his own thereon. In his will, which is the nearest
approach to a spiritual autobiography that St. Francis left,
he explains fully both his attitude and his reasons for it.
"
The Lord gave me, and gives me, so much faith in priests
who live according to the form of the holy Roman Church,
on account of their order, that if they should persecute me,
I would have recourse to them. And if I had as much
wisdom as Solomon had, and should find poor priests
if I
of this world (/.<?.,
would not preach
secular priests) I
against their will in the parishes in which they live. And
I desire to fear, love, and honour them and all others as my
masters; and I do not wish to consider sin in them, for
in them I see the Son of God and they are my masters.
no
 St. Francis of Assist
And I do this because in this world, I see nothing corporally
of the most high Son of God Himself except His most holy
Body and Blood, which they receive and they alone ad-
minister to others. And I will that these most holy mys-
teries be honoured and revered above all things, and that
l
they be placed in precious places." So great was his rever-
ence that he exhorted the brethren to bow before the priests
and kiss their hands, and if they met them on horseback
he would have them kiss even the hooves of the horses on
which they rode; but the reason is again expressly given:
because of the respect due to their office, and because they
handled the reverend and highest Sacraments. 2
Of a piece with this was his determination at one period
of his life to send the brethren through the world with
pyxes, so that the Host might be kept in a fit receptacle,
and the statement attributed to him by Celano, that if he
met at the same time a saint coming from heaven and any
poor priest, he" would honour the priest first, and tell the
saint to wait, for this man's hands handle the Word of
3
Life, and possess something that is more than human."
He was also anxious to send brethren with wafer irons, so
that good Hosts might be made in all the churches, 4 and
would offer to penurious priests ornaments for their altars. 5
His reverence for the Eucharist was, in fact, as has been
well said, the very soul of his piety, and the source of all
his veneration for the priesthood. Such veneration was not
"
founded on opportunism nor counselled by ecclesiastical
"
prudence the biographies which appear to portray most
:

truly the essentially Franciscan spirit leave no room for

the supposition that it derived from his orthodox submis-
sion to the hierarchy of the Church. 6 St. Francis* own
1 a 3
Writings, p. 82. Legend, xiv, 57. Celano, ii, 201.
5
Mirror, Ixv. Bonaventure, i, 6.
6
See Sabatier, Opuscules de Critique Historique, fasc. x, pp. 1 57-8 n.
Cf, also the instru&ion " On reverence for the Lord's Body and on the
III
 St. Francis of Assist
view of the relations he would have with the clergy is given
with considerable clearness in more than one passage of his
many biographies, and shows that by the side of his criti-
cism of them and his realization of their shortcomings, was
"
the definite desire to keep the peace with them. Be
subject to them who bear rule," Celano reports him as
"
saying to the brethren, that so much as in you lies no
jealousy may spring up. If you are sons of peace, you shall
win clergy and people to God, and this the Lord judges to
be more acceptable than to scandalize the clergy and win
the people only. Cover their lapses, supply their manifold
1
defects, and when you have done so, be the more humble."
It was on this supply of the clergy's manifold defects that
St. Francis considered his relation to them was founded:
his ministry was to aid them in the work of salvation of
souls, and he realized that it could be accomplished better
when there was peace between the official shepherds and
those who voluntarily gave their help, than when there
was a state of feud. 2 Such a consideration may well have
been in his mind when he included in the Second Rule the
injunction that no brother should preach in the diocese of
any bishop if such action should be opposed by him, but
his own method of dealing with refractory bishops shows
that he was not given to regarding their refusal as final.
On one occasion the Bishop of Imola refused leave to
preach in his diocese, on the pretext that it was quite
enough for do that for his own people. This was
him to
it was
as direct a refusal as possible to meet with, but St.
Francis having bowed humbly and retired, returned in a
short time and repeated his request as though the refusal
"
had never been made. When a father has driven a son
cleanliness of the Altar" (Writings, p. 23), and the First Admonition,
" "
Of the Lord's Body (ibid., p. 5).
1
Celano, ii, 146. See Mirror, liv.
2
Celano, loc. cit.; Mirror, x.
112
 St. Francis of Assisi
out of one door he must come in again by another," were
the words in which he suggested that he would not be
finally repulsed by any number of refusals, and the bishop
is reported very wisely to have given way before such
1
insistence.
But there was a side of St. Francis* character to which
obedience to the Church was natural and desirable. As
with St. Teresa, he was a member of the Roman Catholic
Church as well as a mystic, and his innate sincerity led him
to give that authority its due when it was possible to do so
without hindrance to his convictions as a mystic. In
dealing with a body for which strict submission is a con-
dition of salvation it is always necessary to discount in
some measure the official pronouncements of orthodox
biographers with regard to the attitude of a famous subject,
but even when due allowance has been made for interpola-
tions and omissions due to a desire for edification, there
remains in the case of St. Francis a considerable quantity of
evidence of the high respect which he had for his Church.
In considering this respect it must always be remembered
that he made no attempt to give new doctrine to the world;
in so far as he was a reformer he was concerned with life,
and not with teaching, and he had therefore no inclination
to interfere with the accepted dogmas. His genius was in
his life, and his life therefore remains as his most precious
"
heritage to mankind. He had made a tongue of his
whole body," as one of his early biographers graphically
3
puts it, and in his First Rule he directed the brethren to
preach by their works, whether they were allowed by their
minister to preach in any other manner or not. 3 The
writer of The Mirror of Perfeftion witnesses that St. Francis'
chief study was to teach the brethren by works rather than
1
Celano, ii, 147.
3
Ibid., i, 97.
3
First Rule, chap, xvii (Writings, p. 50).

113 H
 St. Francis of Assist
1
by words, and there is no question as to his realization
that a man's life will aft as a reproof to evil doing as
much as, if not more than, his preaching. 2 And when he
gained from Innocent III his original permission to preach
it is noticeable that the licence was to
preach on moral
questions, and not to concern himself with the Church's
3
dogmas; these he was willing to accept without further
questioning. But while such an acquiescence suggests
conformity, it also suggests that St. Francis had no very
great concern with dogma as such: it does not, in -fact,
seem foreign to the spirit of his life to say that it appeared to
him too remote from the immediate needs he saw before
him to make it a matter demanding his attention. As a
general thing he would seem to have accepted it as one
accepts the air as necessary and, on the whole, un-
noticeable and only to have concerned himself seriously
with it when he felt it to be antagonistic to his ideals. The
lightness and ease with which he put aside the dearest
ecclesiastical doctrines in such a case has been seen in his
attitude towards penance.
His conformity is chiefly evidenced in the Rules he drew
up for the guidance of his brethren, and as the Rules as we
have them were formally approved by the Church, it is not
such a conformity is found in them. The
surprising that "
statement that no one shall be received contrary to the
"
form and institution of the holy Church appears in the
4
First Rule, as it now stands with the additions it received
as time passed ; but it does not appear possible of argument
that such a statement formed part of the original Rule, for
that is expressly stated to be the marrow of the Gospel.
5
"
Later on in the same Rule he says that all the brothers
1 2
Mirror, xvi. Celano, ii, 103.
3
See Joergensen, St, Francois, book ii, chap, ii, p. 140, note 2. See
also book iii, chap, ii, p. 228; Cuthbert, Life, p. 85, note 2.
* 6
Chap. ii. Writings, p. 34. Mirror, Ixxvi.
114
 St. Francis cf Assist
shall be Catholics and live and speak in a Catholic manner.
But anyone should err from tne Catholic faith and life in
if
word or in deed, and will not amend, let him be altogether
expelled from our fraternity." * Similarly, no brother is to
*'
preach contrary to the form and institution of the holy
2
Roman Church "; in these and similar rulings St. Francis
appears as the Catholic who accepts the institutions of his
Church as the foundation of his Rule. There is in such an
acceptance something suggestive of the conviction that in
any church, as church, is to be found the material of salva-
tion, and that it is safer for a man to remain in the beliefs
in which he has been brought up, as long as he vitalizes
them into vivid realities for himself, than to seek entirely
new ground. Such a view was expressed hundreds of
3
years later by Lopukhin, and it is stated that St. Francis
left, as one of his last counsels of perfection to the brethren,
the recommendation "always to remain faithful subjects
4
to the prelates and clergy of holy Mother Church."
But the insistence on the necessity of submission to the
Church is perhaps most obvious in the Second Rule, which
is
notoriously suspect. The most orthodox biographers (it
has been seen) Cannot claim that it represents St. Francis'
wishes, or seriously question that it was imposed upon him
in the interests of ecclesiasticism. The most striking
example of submission which this Rule contains is perhaps
the passage wherein the ministers are enjoined to ask a
governor for the Order from among the Cardinals, "so
that being always subject and submissive at the feet of the
same holy Church, grounded in the Catholic faith, we may
1 2
Chap. xix.
Writings, p. 52. Chap. xvii. Ibid,, p. 50.
3
Some Chara&eristiesofthe. Interior Church, e.g., chap, ii, sees. 8 and
9, where he speaks of the observation of exterior religion becoming a
means of entering into the true interior Church. And see the Intro-
duftion, pp. 3-4.
*
Mirror, Ixxxvii.
"5
 Sf. Francis of Assist
observe poverty and humility and the holy Gospel of our
Lord Jesus Christ, which we have firmly promised." l The
only comment which would seem to be demanded by such
a sentence is that St. Francis had himself been to Rome on
more than one occasion, and was not ignorant of the
methods of life of many of the Cardinals. He had reproved
them for the ease of their life and seems to have had no
particular illusions as to the manner in which they fell short
of his own ideal of poverty. In the face of this, as in the
face of the revolutions against the notoriously vicious lives
of the clergy of the north of Italy, which had come to a head
in the movement of the Paterenes, 2 it is difficult to imagine
that St. Francis can have considered that poverty and
humility were peculiarly characteristic of the Church of
Rome. The passage, as so many other passages in the
Second Rule, is, in fact, distinctly suggestive of the hand
of some one other than St. Francis, with, perhaps, less of
his clear-sightedness or less sincerity of expression.
But whatever has been included in the Rules as a result
of papal pressure, or handed down in the biographies by
those who were themselves unquestioning members of the
Church, it remains evident that while St. Francis was un-
doubtedly orthodox in certain aspects of his character for
the atmosphere of Catholicism was inevitably as natural to
him as the air he breathed yet the facts of his life show
him to have been singularly careless of the claims of
orthodoxy when such claims militated against his innermost
convictions. In respect of the Church he stands, like so
many mystics, as the embodiment of a force over which
the Church has flung the net of her government a force
which has in some measure broken through the restraint
laid upon it, and in some measure been enmeshed thereby.
To the degree in which St. Francis imposed his will on the
Second Rule, chap, xii (Writings, p. 73).
3
See E. Gebhart, L'ltalie Mystique, pp. zS et seq.
 St. Francis of Assis i
Church he did so in obedience to what he unwaveringly
felt to be the will of God he was to such an extent a
channel for the manifestation of the divine force; to the
degree in which he counselled obedience to the Church he
was, on one side, concerned with it as an authority to which
it was
good closely to submit the personal will as a training
and a preparation, and on the other, as an enthusiastic
member of a body which demanded from him conformity
as a duty. In the final analysis his will was submitted to
that of God only, and against it he admitted not even the
voice and the authority of the Holy Church of Rome.

117
 Chapter Five
M9DERN WRITER HAS LAID EM-
Jphasison the of
importance attention, not only
las indicating that to which any life is directed,

[but as modifying its course in a very real

" "
measure. Attention, desire, interest," she says, all
these words stand, I think, for the state of man in which the
face of the soul is set and the hand of the soul is held out
towards some other beyond, that it may be drawn into the
life of the man as his own. ... In the marvellous rhythm
of life with life, desire and the potency of attention deter-
mine the flow of gifts from the greater to the included less,
whether by an inner or an outer way." 1
It is easily
comprehensible that the direction of the
attention is the determining factor of an existence of which
the whole essence is consciousness. Yet a distinction
should be made, it seems, between attention and desire,
for they are hardly interchangeable terms. Desire is, in
fact, the force which gives effect to attention: it is ulti-

mately the driving power of the machine which attention

guides, for desire can be deflected from one object and
aimed at another by changing the occupation of the mind.
Of its own accord it is difficult to regard desire as setting in
any particular direction; it is at the command, rather, of
the mind when the mind has realized its ,power. In~com-
mon with all whose office is to serve it is liable to rebel and
claim command as its own prerogative, but such rebellion
is in
general the result of a long-continued direction of it

1
A Modern Mystic's Way (Duckworth and Co.), p. 43.
118
 St. Francis of Assisi
by the attention in some particular channel. The habits of
desire can become fixed no less than those of the body, and
no one will question the force and determination that are
required if they are to be broken at the word of their ruler.
To dam a river at full flood is a task which is parallel to, but
vastly easier than, that of deflecting the rush of desire
when it is flowing in channels worn smooth by ages of use.
There would seem to be no limit to the efficacy of these

powers theyif be sincerely felt and firmly directed. Have

they not been the key to conquest and success at all the
times when men have striven to one goal or another in their
history, underlying the unwavering fixity of purpose which
has characterized the victors of battles; both temporal and
eternal ? It is, indeed, questionable if any man can say that
he has failed in that which he has wholly desired. Failures
and in plenty, and that in matters which appear
there are,
to have claimed the whole of a man's attention and the
fulness of his desire, but the essence of failure is in division
of desire, and the rarity of success is but the evidence of the
rarity of undivided desire. If there be any possibility of
hindrance, whether by reason of the claims of modesty or
of any code of honour or morality or anything whatsoever,
or by reason of some other end being desired with equal or
greater vehemence, it cannot be said that the desire is
undivided, and the. possibility of failure inevitably arises.
Desire militates against desire, and it is only those who are
ready unhesitatingly to sacrifice all other things to the one
overpowering desire of all their being, who are assured of
victory.
Of these are the saints. Their secret is that the con-
sciousness of, and the communion with, God indwelling,
which is the Kingdom of Heaven, is to be reached by fixed
attention and by firm desire, and it is in this sense that it
suffers violence at the hands of men. The peculiarity of
those who have reached it is that it has been the point on
 St. Francis of Assisi
which the whole of their attention was centred ; from which
no other concern was allowed to distract them. Anything
which tended to occupy them to the exclusion of their one
desire was simply put aside and allowed, as an object of
desire, to have no further interest for them.
It is in this oneness of intention that lies the reason of the
insistence on poverty which, through many centuries of
trial and despite countless failures and evasions, was felt
to be so essential a part of the religious life as to take an
assured place among the monastic vows. Property became
one of the Mtes noires of that life for the reason, in part, that
it tended to demand too
great a measure of the attention
which should be devoted to things of the spirit; it came
to be regarded as a thing which diverted the mind from
God; and, as a protest against the natural inclination of the
middle and of all ages to seek riches at any cost, there can
be little doubt that it was a desirable thing that property
should be held in contempt even by a small body of men.
But poverty is, as are perhaps all things but One, a means
to an end, and in itself is neither better nor worse than
riches the Kingdom of Heaven is not an appurtenance of
:

the one -per se any more than it is out of reach of the other
unconditionally. The essence of that poverty which is the
gate of the kingdom is a state of mind, of which neither rich
nor poor have the monopoly.
But it was literal poverty at which the monastic vows
were aimed, as distinguished to that extent from detach-
ment. The actual non-possession of goods by the indi-
vidual was demanded and obtained, and in this those who
formulated the different rules were no doubt wise. In
legislating for a class containing every variety of nature it
was necessary to bear in mind the limitations of the weaker
as well as the capacities of the stronger members, and to
substitute detachment for literal poverty would have been
in all probability to put a stumbling block in the way of the
1 20
 Sf. Francis of Assisi
less steadfast. It is doubly easier for the majority of men
to preserve peace of mind and spirit about a thing they
have not got and do not allow themselves to want, than to
retain the same unruffled equanimity about a thing they
have got, but about which they attempt to remain undis-
turbed. In other words, detachment is a counsel for the
spiritual aristocracy,
and literal poverty is a safer condition
for the generality of those concerned with the spiritual life.
The evident essence of this position as regards property
is that the lack of it should be willing, whether the poverty-

be accepted or actively sought. The point, in fact, is much

less the poverty in itself than the willingness with which it
is embraced. Ruysbroeck emphasizes this by making
voluntary poverty the second step in the Ascent of Spiritual
Love, as the first-fruit of the goodwill which is the first
"
step. He who is willingly poor is free, and without
the cares of this world's goods," he says; 1 going straight
to the heart of all that has ever been written about poverty,
and avoiding that laudation of it for its own sake which
characterizes a large number of Christian writers. Such
praise can only be due to an unthinking acceptance of a
traditional conception, or to a blindness which may
possibly be due to an ignorance of the facts, which lead
into a labyrinth of loose and sentimental thinking. The
popular Christian view would seem to be that the poor are
ipsofafto in some obscure way nearer to God than the rich,
and that they are more particularly the care of the Deity
than the rich can ever hope to be. Whether this arise from
a confused idea that, because the Christ of the Gospels
was poor, therefore all other poor bear some close resem-
blance to Him or whether it spring from a remembrance
;

of the fact that riches are spoken of in the New Testament

as something of a bar to entrance into the kingdom, the
1
Ruysbroeck, Of the Seven Steps in the Ascent of Spiritual
chap. ii.

121
 St. Francis of Assist
result that the very fact of poverty has been taken as
is

conferring a claim on the poor to be considered as more

"
especially the property of God. Such phrases as God's
"
poor go a considerable way towards preventing a realiza-
tion that the rich- belong to Him
no less, and that there is no
reason to suppose that His interest (if the term be per-
mitted) in the soul of Dives is any less than in that of
Lazarus.
The facts as regards the desirability of poverty for its
own sake are, in truth, all on the other side. Instead of the
the of- the world the
poor in goods being, by very fact, the
most blessed in that they are freed from concern with
temporal things and so, presupposing a desire for God, at
liberty to devote their minds and their desire wholly to
Him -it is entirely evident that the reverse of this is the
case. The rich can in any case secure moments of free-
dom from interference and concern, but the majority of the
poor are haunted by the perpetual need of giving all their
attention to the acquisition of immediate necessities. They
are thus in a condition of intense desire for, and attention to,
property with the one aim of getting it for themselves, and
it would be difficult to maintain that such a
position savours
in any particular way of the Kingdom of Heaven. It is

only by the addition of willingness that the situation can be

regarded as in any way productive of the desired liberty.
But poverty in its ultimate sense carries on a campaign
not against property only, but against all that is implied by
the idea of property. As a part 'of the system of self-
annihilation it fights against propriety, in the original
sense of that word as meaning exclusive possession, and so
strikes at the tendency of the individual to appropriate
to himself anything which may happen to come into his ,
hands. It is from this aspect that the doctrine of poverty^
assumes a particular interest for the position of the mystic,
for it is one with his disinclination to erect barriers of no
122
 Sf. Francis of Assist
matter what kind between himself and the world at large,
and from this aspect also that there is found an additional
reason for prescribing literal poverty, rather than detach-
"
ment, as a Rule. To "possess a thing, so as to say, This is
mine," is to imply This is not yours," to the whole
remainder of humanity, and so to make a certain division
with respect to the thing possessed. It is an insistence on
separateness. It is, in fact, as a rule, to claim not only

possession, but ownership of a thing of which properly

there is only a usufruct from God. And since, in respect of
the spirit, division is impossible, to permit a distribution of
property of which the essence is the separateness of the
different holders is to emphasize just that which wars

against the spirit in the most vital way.

It is, therefore, because property increases the sense
of]
selfhood as well as because it claims an undue share of the/
attention, that it was banned by those entering the religious
life, and literal poverty was demanded. But it is evident
that poverty in this sense is not confined to forbidding the
possession of actual material goods, but applies with equal
force to all things that connote the idea of possession. It
is aimed against the sense of appropriation as such, which
has been seen (in dealing with the will) to characterize
especially the lower divided self. Anything which is
capable of appropriation by one man as against another is
impliedly ruled out by poverty, so that for a man who has
taken on this condition there is no
willingly possibility
of making a claim to anything whatever. He cannot^
demand for himself good fame at the hands of the world
any more than he can demand riches ; he will be as little
anxious for that elusive, but terribly real, possession which
is his
reputation as he will for any tangible goods; and the
peculiar normal attitude which regards health as a personal
belonging will, it would seem, inevitably make way for a
position which shows less of petulance and more of peace.
123
 St. Francis of Assist
Literal poverty that is
willingly embraced, then, is in its

perfection both the cause and the of a state of mind

effect
which is unwilling to stop short of anything less than God
in His most unveiled revelation of Himself a state of
mind that cries with St. Catherine of Genoa: " Non voglio
uqello che esce da Te," being unable to rest content with
that which proceeds from Deity. Its concern is to transfer
its attention from the thing to That which lies behind all

things, and is their common Substance to pierce through

the outward shell to that which is their core. This is the
essence of unworldliness, which is to refuse to take the
world on its own exaggerated valuation, and to
judge it by
the standard of the spirit alone.
But in distinction to literal poverty there is another
attitude with regard to property and its implications which
is
equally possible and perhaps more desirable. This is
detachment. Ultimately, they are both attitudes of mind,
but detachment suggests a position which is less conspicu-
ously concerned with and dependent on the "
actual fact
of possession or non-possession of things. Detachment
"
consists," wrote Coventry Patmore, not in casting aside
all natural loves and goods, but in the possession of a love
and a good so great that all others, though they may and
do acquire increase through the presence of the greater
love and good, which explains and justifies them, seem
*
nothing in comparison." Whereas literal poverty necessi-
tates an abstention in fact from things which in them-
selves are in no way inherently evil, and thereby brings
with a hint of separateness which is naturally unwelcome
it

to the mystic, detachment is concerned only with the atti-

tude taken up with regard to property in any form.
Questions of reputation, of honour, of fame, no less than of
r^ore tangible possessions, can not only no longer arouse a

1
"The Rod, the Root, and the Flower" (Aurea Difta, xcvii).
124
 St. Francis of Assisi
desire for those things, but their gain and loss must be
equally unable to shake the foundation of peace. And yet
detachment is not a condition of indifference; in its per-
is a state in which the attention is so riveted on
fection it
God that minor disturbances are unable to shake it. The
means by which He is manifested in the shape of material
goods or mental conceptions suffer no despite, but they
lose their hold, to interfere or perturb. And while in the
first place detachment from the pleasures and cares of the
is

world, it is also, in the second place and in the final analysis,

from the joys and sorrows of the spirit, so that peace unin-
terrupted may ultimately reign.
Nor does detachment imply insensibility to others'
suffering, though it does, maybe, to one's own. It is not
to be self-centred, but makes rather for a state in which
there is no self remaining by which attachment is possible.
For the spirit which supplants the annihilated self is free,
and riot subject to the bondage of attachment in any of its
forms. So far, in fact, from detachment necessitating
callousness to suffering, it is the key of sympathy, for it is
unaffected by the claims and demands of self-interest on
the ordinary planes, and leaves its possessor free to respond
as he best may. For it is desire in its direction towards the
makes sympathy impossible: who is more callous
self that
than the man of many desires ? Detachment is, in fact,
the gate of freedom, not only because of the immunity
which it imports from the bondage of the world, but
because of the entrance which it gives into the life of the
spirit.
The distinction between what may fairly be called two
aspects of detachment has been succinctly put by Professor
William James. The first aspect is that of the Stoic, who
proceeds by dispossessing himself in " advance of all that
is out of his
power. He says in effect :What do I care ? "
to all that may occur; his is a negative position; his head
125
 Si. Francis of Assisi
is bloody "but quite unbowed under the bludgeonings
"
of
chance. This," as Professor James remarks, though
efficacious and heroic enough in its place and time, is . . .

only possible as an habitual mood of the soul to narrow and

unsympathetic characters. It
proceeds altogether by
exclusion." by an intrenchment of the
It proceeds, in fact,

self; by a lopping off of what is beyond control. The

alternative method proceeds by the way of expansion and
inclusion. It is positive; it negates nothing; its insistence
is on exaltation rather than depression, and its watchword
"
is that of Marcus Aurelius: O Universe, I wish all that
"*
thou wishes!:.
In both cases the claim of personal preference is done
away with, and that which comes is accepted with un-
disturbed equanimity by the disciple of both Epictetus and
Marcus Aurelius. In terms of the two selves the method
of the Stoic is that in which the emphasis is laid on the fact
that man is not his lower self; all that does not appertain
to the higher self is excluded and no more account is taken
of it. By the alternative method the insistence is on the
corresponding fact that man is his higher self, and that
self is by its nature all-inclusive. It hails with joy and does
not only accept with resignation all that comes, for being
of the spirit exclusion is naturally foreign to it, and for it
there is neither evil nor distress. But while the Stoic's
method is palpably on a less high level than that of the
follower of the alternative method by reason, namely, of
his use of exclusion rather than inclusion it is not, any

more than is detachment as a whole, to be confounded with

indifference. Resignation is founded upon hope, but
indifference rests upon despair, and resignation should no
more be taken for sorrow than desire for j oy Both resigna- .

tion and acclamation with regard to all occurrences fulfil

1
W. James, Textbook of Psychology, chap, xii, pp. 188-9.
126
 St. Francis of Assisi
the need for .unquestioning acceptance, and if the position
in which it is possible to give thanks when the answer to a
for to be grateful when a prayer is
prayer is not heard
answered is a little thing be not yet possible for all, there
is no reason to cavil at those who at any rate do not indulge
in the blasphemy of a fretful and undynamic discontent.
But it is just this non-concern with outward circum-
stances which renders detachment difficult of general ful-
filment. When it is possible to prescribe literal poverty
and to counsel contentment therewith, all has been done
that it is possible to do to provide any body of aspirants
after the life of the spirit with surroundings in which there
are as few distractions as may be. But when in place of

non-possession said that actual possession is of no

it is

moment one way or the other, but that everything depends

on the attitude taken up with regard to the things possessed,
a door is opened by which small deceits will enter into the
lives of all but the most sincere. Man's capacity for self-
deception is
practically, but fortunately not quite, unlimited,
and the instinctive tendency towards acquisition insinuates
itself into his life in the most ingenious disguises. It is

notoriously easy to find reasons why any form of property

is desirable, in the almost sincere conviction that its
pos-
session will not unduly divert the attention from concerns
of greater moment; and notorious also how, when the
acquisition is an accomplished fact, it tends gradually to
claim more and more both of attention and desire. Detach-
ment being purely an attitude of mind, it is by that very
reason more difficult of attainment than the willingness for
a poverty which at any rate has its foundation in actual
physical fact: the measure of its greater difficulty is the
measure of the greater subtlety and elusiveness of all mental
processes over those which are also in some part physical.
For breaches of the rule of detachment there is a less
obvious sanction than for those cases in which the rule of
127
 Sf. Francis of Assist
literal
poverty is broken, because the breach is itself
interior, and there need be little or no evidence of it
externally.
To sum up, therefore, the willing acceptance of literal
poverty aisless high method than that of detachment; for
the one there is a perpetually visible reminder of the interior
attitude which is desired, while for the other that attitude
must res! upon recollection alone. Willingly to embrace
poverty is therefore in some small sense a confession of
weakness an implied admission that in. the face of
property detachment is not achievable but it is evidence
of a strength immeasurably greater than that which cannot
resolve to forgo the attractions of property in spite of a
realization of its undesirability. And perhaps just
because of this comparative inferiority literal poverty is
more the rule for beginners, and fitly gives way to detach-
ment as progress is made, and as the probability of self-
deception decreases with the increase of penetration and
sincerity.

128
 Chapter
HE GENERAL FRANCISCAN SPIRIT
with regard to poverty is beautifully suggested
by a passage in the Sacrum Commercium of
Giovanni Parenti. The Lady Poverty is invited
to share with the brethren their scanty and unappetizing
food, and after she has .been served with goodwill and
much humility, she lays herself down to sleep on the bare
ground, with a stone for pillow. And when the Lady
Poverty has slept, she rises up and asks to be shown the
monastery. Whereat the brethren lead her to a hill "
and
show her the whole world lying at their feet, and say This
l
is our
monastery, Lady."
In the simplicity of this allegory is intimated the spacious-
ness and freedom for which poverty stood in the Franciscan
mind. It was the one sure condition of liberty, the release
from the shackles of constraint in respect of provision for
temporal necessities, and the final casting away of care in
connection with possession of any kind. The brethren
were made free of the world by poverty, in that no ties
bound them to one place rather than another, and that the
fewness of their requirements made them at home in any
province in which they might find themselves. Their
liberty was perfect in that they had no desire for possession,
and the whole world was their monastery because for them
a monastery was that
place in which they might remain
faithful to their dedications and be at liberty to praise God
1
Sacrum Commercium, translated by Canon Rawnsley, chap. xxik
See The Lady Poverty, translated and edited by Montgomery Car-
michael, pp. xxviii-xli for a discussion as to the probable authorship
of the Sacrum Commercium.

129 I
 Sf. Francis of Assist
by the consecration of their lives. St. Bonaventiire,
para-
phrasing Celano's panegyric on the slate of the brethren
"
as a body, speaks of them as being swift unto all obedi-
ence, strong to labour and speedy in journeying," because
"
of the poverty they embraced. And since they possessed
no earthly things they set their affections on naught, and
had naught that they feared to lose; they were everywhere
at ease, weighed down by no fear, harassed by no care;

they lived like men who were removed from vexations of

the mind, and, taking no thought for it, awaited the
1
morrow, and their night's lodging." Although this de-
scription paints the perfect result of poverty rather than the
invariable attitude of all the brethren, it suggests the spirit
animating the brotherhood at its inception, and the ideal
which has been before them from that time onward.
That ideal is, of course, traceable directly to St. Francis,
and the realization of the liberty conferred by poverty enters
into the conception which he formed of it as that which he
took for the companion of his life. But his conception
does not seem to have rested solely on the idea of poverty
as the condition of liberty, but to have been composed of a
variety of elements.
The chief of these was almost unquestionably the literal
poverty of Christ as portrayed in the Gospels. To the
ardent sympathy of St. Francis, with his vivid realization
of the ineffable value of the Incarnation, any direct
departure from any detail of such a life in so far as it lay
within man's power and was subject to his choice must
have seemed in some sense a betrayal. Having deliberately
taken that life as his model, he adhered to its exterior cir-
cumstances in their minutest detail, as he strove to realize
its interior significance within himself. And as Christ's
was to him the most striking of the outward condi-
poverty
1
Bonaventure, iv, 7. Cf. Celano, i, 39,

130
THE TOWERS OF ASSISI

face />. 130

 St. Francis of Assisi
tions of His life, he insisted on poverty as a sine qua non in
the lives of all whose intention it was to follow Him. He
took poverty, that is, as the setting of the life of Him whom
he worshipped, and posited it without further question as
the setting of his own life. The practical identification of
the idea of poverty with the idea of Christ is brought out
with significant clearness in the praises of poverty which
"
have been preserved in the Fioretti. Companion mine,"
said St. Francis to Brother Masseo as they were approach-
"
ing Rome let us go to St. Peter and St.
on one occasion,
Paul and pray them that they will teach us and aid us to
possess the immeasurable treasure of most holy Poverty;
for she is a treasure so surpassing and so Divine that we are
not worthy to possess it in our most vile vessels ; for this is
that celestial virtue whereby all earthly things and transi-
tory are trodden under foot and every barrier is removed
which might hinder the soul from freely uniting itself to
the eternal God. This is that virtue which enableth the
soul, while yet on earth, to hold converse in heaven with the
angels; this is she who bare Christ company upon the
cross, with Christ was buried, with Christ was raised again,
1
and with Christ ascended into heaven." It was poverty
as the
companion of Christ both in His trials and His glory
that St. Francis took as his own fellow traveller on his

journey through life, to whom he was faithful even in the

hour of his death.
But having drawn the essence of his conception from
such a source, St. Francis was not content with the mere
fact. The romance
of his temperament intervened and
draped the nakedness of the idea with the rich robes of his
imagination. He personified to himself the quality that he
sought, and under the touch of his fervour it became inspired
Little Flowers, xiii. Cf. Sacrum Commerctum,
chap, v, where the
:onneftion between Christ and the Lady Poverty is traced from His
to His death.
 St. Francis of Assist
with living reality. To his knightly spirit, fed upon the
songs and the tales of Proven?al min&rels, Poverty stood as
the Lady to whom he had vowed his service, and it is more
than likely that his passion for all that was high and beauti-
was a material factor in the completeness of
ful in chivalry
his allegiance. With the remembrance of the Exemplar
of poverty it is not difficult to believe that there was
mingled the intense romance of faithfulness to a Lady to
whom the world did no homage; her personification pro-
vided him with a being whom he could serve in the solitude
of his thoughts both for her own perfect beauty and as the
handmaid of Christ. And with such convictions, and
having pledged himself to such fealty, it was inevitable that
the whole course of his life should be shaped in a way which
made fidelity possible. To the passionate lover that was
St. Francis the object of his adoration must be always
present, and he saw to it that at no time in his life, and at no
place in his journeyings, she should be slighted by the least
inattention. He made ready for her with scarcity as other
men make ready with rich offerings, and he was rewarded
by her freedom and her strength as other men have seldom
been. He wooed her in hunger and cold, and won her in
want ; and if at the present day it should seem that different
methods are demanded, it is possible at least to render the
honour that is due to so whole-hearted and impassioned a
seeker.
Besides these two elements of Christ-imitation and
romance there must have entered into St. Francis' under-
standing of poverty its effect on, and its use for, the world.
It has to be remembered here as always, that St. Francis
was legislating for his brethren by his life: he does not
seem to have been guided solely by a consideration of what
was necessary for his own spiritual needs, but to have kept
in mind the tendencies both to weakness and to strength of
those for whom he was, in his turn, an example, Celano's
132
 St. Francis of Asshi
"
phrase:
he made a tongue of his whole body," sounds
like a description stung into vividness by the intensity of
the fact described. In so legislating, therefore, it is not
improbable that he kept in mind the fact that there is and
must always be one law for the weak and another for the
strong in the life of the spirit, and that in his insistence on
absolute literal poverty he was influenced by the needs of
the generality of mankind, and not only by those of the
elect. It has been seen in the preceding chapter that
literal poverty is unquestionably the safer foundation for a

general rule, since the qualities of greater subtlety and

sincerity required for a proper fulfilment of the counsels of
detachment cannot be counted on in their perfection in the
rank and file of any community. To build on the founda-
tion of poverty was, therefore, to ensure a stronger building
than could otherwise have been achieved: it was to pro-
vide an atmosphere from which distractions were as nearly
excluded as possible, and in which niceties of distinction
gave way to an almost certain safety.
St. Francis* conception of poverty, then, appears as

having been drawn from the desire to follow the example of

Christ in things external as well as in those which are more
specifically interior; as having been nourished by .its per-
sonification as the Lady whom he served in accordance with
the promptings of his inborn tendency to romance; and
as having been sealed by the realization of its high utility
in freeing those who accepted it from the distractions of the
world and from the ever-increasing bondage of property.
But it is not to be supposed that St. Francis perfected
his idea of
poverty at one stroke: as with most vital concep-
tions it was a gradual growth springing from an exception-
ally vivid realization of its value. The idea was, as it were,
conceived in a moment of rare penetration and clearness of
sight, and took shape and grew as circumstances demanded.
The memorable moment at Assisi when St. Francis, after
 Francis of Assisi
the last of the sumptuous banquets with thejeunesse doree
of the town, made his sudden declaration of betrothal to a
nobler, richer, fairer lady than they had ever seen, marks
the birth of the idea into full consciousness. 1 The declara-
tion does not seem to be exclusively referable to his
betrothal with poverty; it was rather the moment of his
renunciation of his past life and the turning of it in the new
direction of God. But included in his dedication to the life
of the spirit from that moment forward, there was it is not
possible to doubt the definite conception of poverty as in
some degree symbolizing all his intentions. What actually
was in his mind is of course a matter of sheer conjecture,
"
but the bride nobler and richer and fairer than ever ye
"
have seen is a peculiarly. apt description of poverty from
the standpoint of St. Francis. Poverty was to him the key
of riches, and no words were too extravagant in which to
it.
praise
Following shortly after the declaration came the first
pilgrimage to Rome, and it was during his stay there that
St. Francis
put his resolution into tentative practice.
Changing his clothes for those of one of the beggars who
crowded about the door of St. Peter's, he passed the whole
2
day standing there and asking alms, and so came into
veritable contact with what was afterwards to be his habit-
ual condition. But he was not yet fully weaned from his
belief in the efficacy of money. Some little time after his
return to Assisi came the command to repair the Church,
and the interpretation of
it
by St. Francis into a command
to rebuild San Damiano. His first movement was to offer
money to the priest in charge of the church, that a lamp
3
might burn perpetually before the Crucifix therein. This
was followed by the departure of St. Francis to Foligno
1
Celano, i, J ; Legend, 7 and 13.
2
Celano, ii, 8 ; Legend, 10 ; Bona venture, i, 6.
3
Celano, ii, iij Legend, 13.
134
 St. Francis of Assist
with a large quantity of stuff from his father's shop, and the
sale of both the stuff and the horse on which he rode. The

money thus gained he offered to the priest of San Damiano,

but when the priest refused to accept it St. Francis seems
to have given no more thought to the matter, for he threw
1
it on to the window ledge and let it stay there. It is inter-

esting to compare his attitude at this time with regard to

money with that which he showed a short time later when
he ironically heaped money on the priest Sylvester because
of his complaint that St. Francis had not paid him enough
2
for the stones to be employed in rebuilding San Damiano;
and with that also which he showed towards the end of his
life. On his last journey back to Assisi the soldiers who
were with him, as a guard against possible onslaughts from
neighbouring towns anxious to secure his body, complained
that they could buy no food in a small village at which they
had stopped. He suggested that they should ask food as
an alms, instead of as a thing to be bought with money,
and it is related that on doing so the knights received from
the people ample food for all their needs.!
It was about a month after this offer of money to the

priest a month which he spent in hiding from his father's

4
anger that there came the clinching of St. Francis'
decision for poverty in its most literal aspect. gave He
evidence of it with dramatic suddenness, in such a way as
to impress his decision indelibly on his own mind and the
minds of all the citizens of Assisi. The details of the scene
of his disinheritance are too well known to need minute
description. At the instigation of the bishop he returned
to his father the money obtained from the transaction at
Foligno, and, suddenly stripping off all his clothes, stood
1
Celano, i, 8, 9; Legend, 16; Bonaventure, ii, i.
2
Celano, ii, 109; Legend, 30.
3
Celano, ii, 77; Bonaventure, vii, 10; Mirror, xxii.
4
Celano, i, 10; Legend, 16; Bonaventure, ii, 2.
135
 St. Francis of Assist
"naked before the assembly. In this return to his father of
all that he could in
any sense have been said to have
received from him, was symbolized the complete independ-
"
ence which he then and there claimed. Hear ye all and
"
understand," he cried; until now have I called Peter
Bernadone my father, but, for that I purpose to serve the
Lord, I
give back unto him the money over which he was
vexed, and all the clothes that I have had of him, desiring
* *
to say only Our Father Which art in Heaven,' not my
" *
father, Peter Bernadone.' From this moment forward
his life was founded on a disbelief in the efficacy of money
to obtain anything of ultimate value, and he insisted with
ever-increasing vehemence on the non-ownership of
property in any form.
Examples of it abound. On his return with the first
brethren from Rome, whither they had gone to obtain the
Papal approval of the Primitive Rule, they took up their
lodging in a disused hut at Rivo Torto, and lived in com-
plete peace in spite of the smallness of the place. But one
day a peasant arrived with his donkey, and, finding it
occupied, appears to have taunted the brethren with owning
the place in spite of their profession of poverty. To the
mind of St. Francis any position which laid them open to
such an accusation was intolerable, so without more ado
he left the hut to the new-comers, and proved the sincerity
of his dedication to absolute non-ownership. 2 The breth-
ren removed to the Portiuncula, of which they were per-
mitted the use by the monks of the Abbey on Monte
3
Subasio, though they did not possess it as their own. It
was the place in which they lived, not their particular
property, and to the end of his life St. Francis resented any
attempt to treat it as if it belonged to them. When the
1
Legend, 20. Cf. Celano, i, 1 5 ; Bonaventure, ii, 4.
3
Celano, 1,44; Legend, 55.
3
See Cuthbert, Life, p. 106, note 3.
136
 St. Francis of Assisi
people of Assisi built house
a there during his absence, for
the use of the brethren at an approaching Chapter, the
first thing he did on his return was to get up on to the roof
and begin tearing it to pieces. Under the impression that
it was the work of the brethren, and as such savoured too

much of ownership for their profession, he abused them

roundly as traitors to the Lady Poverty, and told them to
come up and help him destroy so monstrous a thing. In
the end he was only dissuaded from razing the building to
the ground by the assurance that it did not belong to the
1
brethren at all, but to the city.
On another occasion this time just after his return
from the Holy Land, when he was particularly sensitive
to anything which seemed to deviate from the way of strict

simplicity and poverty he arrived at Bologna to find that

a house of the brethren had lately been built. The fact
that Bologna was a centre of learning, and that St. Francis
had a well-founded fear of the brethren becoming over-
occupied with the concerns of the schools, was doubtless
largely the cause of his severe conduct; but it also seems
certain that the announcement that the house belonged to
the brethren was sufficient in itself to incense him. His
action was prompt and effective. Calling Peter Stacia, the
Provincial of the district, he cursed him for his treachery
to the Franciscan ideal, and followed up his malediction by

turning every single brother out of the house, not allowing

even the sick to remain. He was only persuaded to allow
them to return on the public announcement being made
that the house belonged to the Holy See, and not in any
2
way to the brethren. The assumption of ownership was so
intolerable to him that an indication of it such as occurred

1
Celano, ii, 57; Mirror, vii.
2
Celano, ii, 58; Mirror\ vi; ARus S. Franasci, 61. See Cuthbert,
Life, pp. 251, 266.

137
 St. Francis of Assisi
on this occasion was one of the rare things that caused him
to lay aside his usual mildness.
But apart from his severity towards his followers in this
respect, St. Francis' strictness with regard to his
own
action is proverbial. It is needless here to enumerate the
countless occasions on which he gave away his clothes to
anyone that asked for or needed them, rather than appear
to possess them as his own property, for all his biographies
are filled with them. It has been mentioned already that
he went to the extent of giving away the only New Testa-
ment that the brethren had, 1 and on one occasion he refused
any longer to"inhabit a because a brother had spoken
cell
of it as his. For it mine," was his
that thou hast called
" 2
remark, another shall stay there henceforth, and not I."
It would be difficult to imagine an example of a more com-

plete refusal to allow any hint of exclusive possession to

attach to him : it is the apotheosis of non-appropriation.
The general view which St. Francis held with respect to
property is not difficult of extraction from the varied inci-
dents of his life. That which lies at the bottom of it is the
feeling that as all things depend on and ultimately belong
to God, they should be held in common by those who have
"
the use of them. Blessed is the servant who gives up all
"
his goods to the Lord God," he wrote, for he who
* '
retains anything for himself hides his Lord's money and
*
that which he thinketh he hath shall be taken away from
" 3
him.' To put in a claim of ownership was to insist on a
division in the things which had been provided for man-
kind in general : it was to erect a claim to finality in a region
where God alone was final. It emphasized not only the
division of material things into as many parts as there were
claims to possession, but the much graver division between
those who made these claims, which is the inevitable
1 2
See above, p. 93. Mirror, ix ; Celano, ii, 59.
3
Writings, p. 15, Admonition 19.
138
 St. Francis of Assist
consequence of property. Property would, in fact, seem
to have stood for St. Francis for the mutual exclusion which
is the antithesis of love, and for this reason, if for no other,

he desired his followers to have what few things he con-

sidered it permissible to have, in common. He would not 1

even allow the brethren to have psalters of their own, and

the reason which he gave to a novice who desired to have
one is plainly founded on this dislike of separateness. On
the novice's first request St. Francis pointed out to him
that there was something wanting in a man who was con-
tent to read about the achievements of the saints, instead of
following in their steps and doing as they had done; but
this was not sufficient to deter the novice. He returned to
the charge a few days later, whereon St. Francis said:
"
After you have a psalter, you will desire and wish to
have a breviary. Then you will sit in your chair like a great
"2
prelate, and say to your brother, Bring me the breviary/
'

Here it was the assumption of importance as the result of

ownership, which St. Francis emphasized and so greatly
deprecated: the possession even of so small a thing as a
psalter was in his mind sufficient to raise up some barrier of
division between its owner and his brethren. It would
with it the inclination to command, and for a brother-
bring
hood whose watchword was humility this was to be avoided
at all costs.
But this, naturallyenough, did not satisfy him. The
holding of their scanty clothes and begged food in common
among the brethren only would have been a marking-off
of the brethren as such from the surrounding world, and
it was therefore a
part of his position that, for example,
their clothes belonged to the poor as of right. His way of

putting it was that they should return them to those to

whom they also belonged, inasmuch as they had received
1
See Celano, ii, 180; Mirror^ v.

Mirror, iv.

139
 St. Francis of Asshi
them as a loan only until they should find one poorer than
themselves. 1 On giving his mantle to a poor woman
"
towards the end of his life, his remark was The poor man
to whom you entrusted this mantle, gives thanks to thee
2
for the loan of the mantle; take that which is thine own."
To insist on ownership was, in fact, in his eyes simply
" "
theft: to say to anyone This is mine was to rob that
person because the thing really belonged to him also,
and the theft was aggravated if he should happen to be
the poorer of the two. 3
The particular drawback of theft from the spiritual
standpoint, it would seem, is that it makes against the
essence of love, which is the desire to give. As for St.
John of the Cross some three centuries later, the" appetites
and pleasures prevent the soul from going into the
liberty of the perfect love of God," so for St. Francis
property would do the same thing no less surely. When he
was talking to the Bishop of Assisi about the advisability
of adhering to the strict poverty he had proposed, the
bishop suggested that it seemed to him a very harsh way
of life. But St. Francis, even at that early time he had
only three brethren pointed out that if they had property
they would need arms to protect themselves, and on account
of the disputes that would arise the love of God and of their
4
neighbour would be in danger of hindrance. And later,
in one of the additions to the Primitive Rule, he carries the
same teaching a step farther. Speaking of the desirable
attitude of the brethren towards money, he exhorts them
neither to receive it nor cause it to be received, and adds :
"
Let us therefore take care lest after having left all things
we lose the kingdom of heaven for such a trifle." 5
And
1
Mirror, xxx; Celano, ii, 87; B ona venture, viii, 5.
2
Mirror , xxxiii ; Celano, ii, qz.
3 *
Mirror, xxx; Celano, ii, 87; Bonaventure, viii, 5. Legend, 35.
5
First Rule, chap, viii (Writings, p. 4.1). See Cuthbert, Life, p. 400.

140
 St. Francis of Assisi
since the Kingdom of Heaven is in one sense both love

itself and the result of love

the teachings are consistent.
Poverty, therefore, was not only the gate of liberty for him
in the ordinary sense, but the means of a liberty which was
directly aimed at the highest goal of mankind.
But apart from the separateness which is inevitably
bound up with the sentiment of ownership, St. Francis
detected also the danger of property occupying too great
a portion of the attention. It stood for an interest which
"
distracted from the goal of the spirit. Blessed are the
clean of heart; for they shall see God," he quoted, and
"
continued: They are clean of heart who despise earthly
things and always seek those of heaven, and never cease
to adore and contemplate the Lord God Living and True,
with a pure heart and mind." * The adoration with a pure
heart was thus dependent on a non-concern with the owner-
ship of things. To St. Francis, then, it seemed that the
ascent to heaven was made more quickly from a hovel than
from a palace 2 just because in the hovel as he occupied it
the probabilities of distraction were less, and the mind was
more at liberty to concern itself with the things of the spirit.
And the minuteness with which he guarded against such
distraction is shown by an incident which is related by
Celano. During one Lent he had been filling up his spare
time by making a cup, and while he was reciting the office
his eyes suddenly caught the cup and his mind was dis-
tracted from the prayer. When he had finished praying,
therefore, he took the cup and burnt it, in the force of his
determination that nothing of any kind should persist
which might act as a distraction. 3 The one-pointedness of
mind which he desired is borne witness to also in another
"
passage, which merits "quotation. His chiefest study,"
writes the biographer, was to be free from all the things
1
Writings, p. 15, Admonition 16.
a 3
Celano, i, 42, Ibid^ ii, 97.
 St. Francis of Assist
that are in the world, lest the serenity of his mind might
even for a moment be troubled by the taint of any dust.
He made himself insensible to the din of all outward
things; and, gathering up with all his might from every
side the outward senses, and keeping the natural impulses
in check, occupied himself with God alone. Accord- . . .

ingly he often used to choose out solitary places in order

that he might therein wholly direct his mind to God; but
yet, when he saw that the time was favourable, he was not
slothful in attending to business and in applying himself
gladly to the salvation of his neighbours. For his safest
haven was prayer not prayer for one moment, not vacant
:

or presumptuous prayer, but long continued, full of devo-

tion, calm and humble; if he began late he scarce ended
with morning. Walking, sitting, eating, and drinking, he
was intent on prayer." l
It is precisely this continuous attention to the Highest
wholly emptied of himself as St. Francis is said to have
been this mental attitude in the midst of all outward cir-
cumstances, which is the essence of prayer, and is most in
danger of disturbance by the incessant cares of property.
There is no doubt that, in spite of the insistence of its
calls, it is possible for a man to deal with them without
diverting his attention from the God which lies behind
them all, but neither is there any doubt that such behaviour
demands a degree of penetration and force immeasurably
greater than that which is normally found. Given a mind
capable of unswerving attention to the One, in spite of its
immediate concern with the many, property may abound
without any detriment to its spiritual welfare; but the
rarity of such minds is ample reason for enjoining poverty
on the multitude. There can scarcely be any reasonable
doubt that in the case of St. Francis himself especially

1 2
Celano, i, 71. Ibid.
I 42
 St. Francis of Assist
towards the end of his life there would have been little
or no danger of distraction by reason of property, but St.
Francis was not legislating for himself alone. As has been
remarked already, he was legislating for all the brethren by
his actual life, and was consequently forced to give example
in his own actions of that which he believed necessary for
them.
Thus a passage in the Fioretti already quoted speaks of
"
him as describing poverty as that celestial virtue whereby
all earthly things and transitory are trodden under foot and

every barrier is removed which might hinder the soul from

freely uniting itself to the eternal God. This is that virtue
which enableth the soul, while yet on earth, to hold con-
verse in heaven with the angels . ." x If poverty remove
.

the barrier to union with God, then property must erect it,
and while the things which are possessed cannot in them-
selves be regarded as constituting that barrier, the senti-
ment of their position can. There carinot be a union with
That which stands behind all if there be an active disunion
from that behind which It stands, and the sentiment of
possession as implying separateness is eminently fitted
to produce just such a disunion. To consider it as pre-
venting the soul, while yet on earth, from holding converse
in heaven with the
angels is therefore a very literal state-
ment of the fact; it prevents inevitably the attainment of
a state of which free intercourse in the unity of the spirit is
a characteristic. Poverty, as St. Francis saw it, is the
"
antithetical condition. Where there is
poverty and joy
there neither cupidity nor avarice," he wrote in one of
is
his Admonitions, 2 and
cupidity and avarice are the extreme
forms of that which is natural to property when its
1
Little Flowers, xiii.
3
Writings, p. 19, Admonition 27. Cf. Salutation of the Virtues
(ibid., p. 21) :
"Holy poverty confounds cupidity and avarice and the
cares of this world."

H3
 St. Francis of Assisi
ownership is insisted
upon. They stand for the mis-
direction of desire, and the exclusion of that which makes
for union in any and all its forms. Such a sentence also
makes it evident that for poverty to be efficacious it must be
indissolubly linked with an attitude of mind which accepts
1
it
willingly. Though in one respect poverty as he con-
ceived it was to St. Francis one of the conditions of real joy,
he regarded the two also as allies. As he was proverbially
unwilling that any of his brethren should embrace a state
that they could not embrace joyfully, so the willingness with
which poverty was to be accepted was inseparable from it in
St. Francis' mind. It is, for the rest, of a piece with his
character that he would not have obedience to any rule
given grudgingly.
Finally, the possession of property was eminently un-
fitting for those who should live, according to the express
desire of their leader, as pilgrims wandering in a country
which was not their proper home. This view of mankind
as exiles from their true country occurs repeatedly through-
out the old biographies and the writings of St. Francis
himself. He was anxious that the conception should ever
be present in the minds of the brethren, as a reminder of
the great inheritance of the spirit which was their due.
" "
Let the brothers," he wrote in his will, take care not to
receive on any account churches, poor dwelling-places, and
all other things that are constructed for them, unless
they
are as is
becoming the holy poverty which we have pro-
mised in the Rule, always dwelling there as strangers and

pilgrims."
2
And
again in the Second Rule he directs them
to be as pilgrims and strangers in this world, 3 desiring them
to be attached to nothing of the world for its own sake.
1
Cf. Bernardin, U Esprit de St. Francis ff Assise (Paris, 1880), vol. i,
" II faut clever le
p. 342 :
temple de la pauvrete evange'lique sur la
pauvrete interieure."
3 3
Writings, p. 84. Chap. vi. Ibid., p. 69.

144
 St. Francis of Assist
It is patent,by the evidence of his whole life, that he did not
underestimate the beauties of the world and all that they
meant as manifestations of that which lay behind them,
but his insistence on the pilgrimage conception emphasized
the fact that in themselves those beauties were little or
nothing, but only the entrance to a more splendid and
concealed mystery. It was not, it may be well believed,
solely in some remote heaven that St. Francis looked for a
return from exile, but in the world seen with the eyes of the
spirit
rather than with those of the flesh only. He knew
that converse with the angels was possible during the life

of this earth, but he knew also, it appears, that it is only

when men's eyes are detached from the earth, and their
minds from its interests, that those eyes can gain the clear-
ness which will enable them to see the angels by which
they are surrounded. Only when the mind is concerned
with that which is deeper and more subtle than the appear-
ance of things, can it comprehend the communications of
the spirit which are for ever offered. This is the return
from exile, and the whole world is then the Promised Land
of the spirit.
But meanwhile the appearance must not be taken as
final, and the detached attitude of the pilgrim must be
"
preserved to avoid such a belief
"
in its finality. He loved,"
it is related of St. Francis,
nothing in tables or vessels
which might remind him of the world; to the end that
1
everything might sing of pilgrimage and exile," and that
he might thereby avoid taking the world as it appeared as
"
ultimate. He taught that the rules of pilgrims were to
abide under a strange roof, to thirst for their fatherland,
and on their way in peace," regarding nothing as
to pass
own and concentrating their attention on their true
their
home in that God Who is everywhere. During their pil-
1
Celano, ii, 60 ;. Mirror, v. See also Legend^ 59.
H5 K-
 St. Francis of Assisi
grimage they might celebrate, as did the Israelites in their
"
symbolic exile, the Passover which was a reminder of the
Lord's departure from this world unto the Father," and
might in their case stand for a perpetual remembrance of
their own ultimate return. 1
The profession of absolute poverty, however, though it
provide an atmosphere of freedom in which the life of the
spirit may grow unhampered, does not of itself offer a
solution of the problem as to how physical life is to be sus-
tained meanwhile. It raises this problem, rather; and if
the continuation of that physical life be regarded as desir-
able some system of supplying its demands must be found.
For St. Francis there does not seem to have been any diffi-
culty on this .head. He did not propose starvation as a
for all troubles, but turned to the world in
remedy general
with the conviction that his needs would be satisfied. With
the same clearness with which he considered the few goods
that the brethren had to be held in common, both among
themselves and with all men, he also regarded the belong-
ings of the rich as being ultimately held in the same way.
Startling as it must have been to his contemporaries, there
was no other view possible for one holding the convictions
that he did. Towards the end of his life he expressed his
opinion of the matter quite clearly, and it is evident from
his conduct at all times after he had devoted himself to
literal poverty that the opinion had been held consistently.
It will be remembered that when he was being brought
back to Assisi for the last time, and his guard had been
unable to buy food in the village at which they had stopped,
he advised them to ask as an alms what they had been
"
unable to obtain for money. And do not," he said, " by
a false reckoning esteem this a thing shameful or base,
since the great Almsgiver hath in His abounding goodness

Bonaventure, vii, 2, 9 ; Celano, ii, 59.

146
 St. Francis of Assis i
granted things as alms unto the worthy and unworthy
all

alike, after sinned." 1 If all things were an alms

we have
from God they were necessarily to be regarded as held in
common no individual had a right to claim ownership of
:

them because to do so was to usurp the place of the Giver

of them all. That which was in the world was for the
common use of all the world, and the obvious way of

obtaining anything that was necessary was therefore

simply to ask for it.
Such a position must have been as amazing to the
society of the thirteenth century as it would be to that of
to-day. Society was divided as clearly then as it is now,
if not indeed more clearly, into those that had and those
that had riot, and the struggle between one division and the
other seems to have been equally acute. Violent disputes
were, for example, constantly arising in all the communes
of Italy, and the division between the two factions in most
of these disputes was between those who had more and
2
those who had less. But on St. Francis and his followers
the distribution of property had no effect. They asked
their alms of all classes alike, in the conviction that they
had an equal right to what had, in reality, only been lent
to the possessors. But their right stopped when their
needs had been satisfied. It was part and parcel of his
belief that it would be wrong to beg more than was neces-
sary, for he had no desire to make of begging a means of
laying up just that property which he had so strenuously
disowned. He went even so far as to say that to beg more
than is needful is to commit theft; 3 and if to his mind it
was unquestionably a theft to lay claim to anything what-
.

ever, when he knew perfectly well all the time that it

belonged to God, the saying can be understood. It is this
reference of all things to the ultimate Giver that makes
1
Bonaventure, vii, 10; Celano, ii, 77.
a 3
See Cuthbert, Life, p. 100. Mirror, xii.

I
147
 St. Francis of Assisi
respect for property as such impossible, and it may well
have seemed to St. Francis that the theft gained in gravity
what it lost in consideration as such among men, by the
fact that it was not a mere filching from one man by
another, but virtually a robbery of God. For this reason
it was to him
equally a theft not to give to a man poorer
than himself, 1 so that the essence of theft was the retaining
that of which another had need. How
far this implied
rebuke to the great owners of property had any effect on
the bulk of them is doubtful, but that it was not entirely
ineffective is attested by the conversions of men like
Bernard of Quintavalle, of which the biographies contain a
considerable number.
For the rest, St. Francis had no sympathy for those who
were ashamed of begging. Shame was rather the proper
sentiment of those who retained property, and not of
those who were simply asking them to hand on that to
which they could have no final right. He boldly said that
to be ashamed of begging was hostile to salvation, for it was
in the first place an evidence of disbelief in the ultimate
ownership of God, and in the second an offering made to
the lower and divided self. 2 He took every occasion to
impress the folly of shame on the brethren both by argu-
ment and his own example, and succeeded in inspiring them
with something of his own force and conviction. 3 He
insisted on it even in the Second Rule, directing them to go
confidently in quest of alms without shame, remembering
that the great Exemplar Whom they followed had also
been poor in this world. 4
As a corollary to the modern tendency to look with
disfavour on begging as a means of obtaining a livelihood,
there has at times been an inclination to consider that its
1
Mirror, xxx.
2
Celano, ii, 71. Cf. supra, p. 50.
3 *
See Celano, ii, 71-8. Chap. vi. Writings, p. 69.
14.8
 St. Francis of Assist
institution by St. Francis for his brotherhood reflects
unworthily on him.
1
The usual complaint is that the
beggar contributes nothing in return for what is given him,
and in a society where repayment of some kind is normally
demanded for any outlay such a course constitutes a singu-
larly unpardonable offence. There appears
to be a further
lurking objection that beggars gain without effort what
other people are forced to obtain at the cost of recognized
w,ork. And, over all, begging is considered as indicating
a lack of self-respect, which respect it seems is therefore
based on the theory that what is worth having can only be
bought and not received as a gift. But it was just this
respect of what St. Francis saw as a lower self, limited in
its
expansion and divided off from other selves, that he
desired to break down ; and he recognized that the neces-
sity of begging was particularly efficacious in achieving
this. To ask another man freely to give for the love of God
was to recognize the final ownership by God of all things,
and thereby to destroy the intermediate claim of the holder
as distinguished from the equal right of him who asked.
It was also to do
away with the sentiment of separateness on
the part of the beggar, by emphasizing the common
parentage at least, if not the ultimate identity, of him and
the giver. The objection in chief to begging, therefore,
was for St. Francis a point directly in its favour.
Nor is it universally true that the beggar gains his liveli-
hood without effort. The self-effacement and strain under-
gone by St. Francis at the beginning of his career of beg-
ging have already been noticed, and since it is not only
more blessed, but a great deal more pleasant for the average
of men to give than to receive they constitute an effort
which, if it were possible of measurement, might well prove
to be
greater than the total effort of the average critic of
1
Cf. e.g., L. L. Dubois, S.M., St. Francis of Auisi, Social Reformer.,
New York, 1906, pp. 168-73.
149
 St. Francis of Assisi
begging to earn his bread. For St. Francis this effort
constituted part of the beggar's right to his sustenance.
It was the earnest of his belief, the evidence that he had
not embraced the life of the brotherhood from a mere
distaste for work. And when he came into contact with a
brother who refused to contribute in this manner to his
own needs and those of the brethren, he dismissed him
* ' ' '
forthwith from their company. Go thy way, brother fly,
"
he said to one such recalcitrant, for thou wouldst eat the
sweat of thy brethren and be idle in God's work. Thou art
like brother drone who though he endures not the toil of
the bees wants to be the first to eat the honey." 1 St. Fran-
cis and companions do not seem to have been formed
his
in a different mould from other men as regards their
natural reluctance, and the overcoming of this is in itself a
magnificent tribute to their force and sincerity.
And, at the end of the count, the labourer is worthy of
his hire, and the charge of giving nothing in return for what
they received cannot be brought against St. Francis and his
followers. He realized himself that a genuine interchange
took place between the* brethren and the community. If a
return were to be demanded, the brotherhood should be
able to show that they had not only received, yet that which
they returned was "in a different currency from that which
they were given. There are mutual obligations between
"
the world and the brethren," he would say; they owe
to the world a good example, the world owes them the
2
provision of necessaries." And, for himself, he gave not
some few hours a day in return for what he received, but his
whole skill, his whole energy, his whole life. If it be a
matter of repayment, he gave with overwhelming generosity
in return for his scant living, in the inspiration which his
life was and has been for his own and all the succeeding
*
:

Celano, ii, 75 ; Mirror, xxiv.

2
Celano, ii, 70.

150
 St. Francis of Assist
"
generations. Bread of alms,'* he would say, summing
"
up his whole philosophy of begging and its value, is
1
angel's food," and in return for it he gave something
which came from a source even higher than the angels.
1
Bonaventure, vii, 8. Cf. Mirror, xxiii.
 Chapter Seven
OVERTY
IS NOT
CONCERNED, HOW-
yer, with the world of material things only.
Its desirability from the
mystical standpoint
'resides in its power to prevent attachment to
and dependence on anything less than the pure spirit of
God as final, and it has therefore an application to all the
parts of man's personality. It is in this way the underlying
principle of all the three monastic vows, and gives their
meaning to both obedience and chastity. They are equally
cases of non-attachment to the personal demand of one
aspect of man obedience substitutes, it has been seen, the
:

divine for the personal will, and chastity is aimed at the

deflection of the main current of interest, attention, and
desire from the emotions and their claims. As a separate
division of the general process of revaluation which is the
essence of the mystic's attempt, poverty relates to the mind
both in the sense of the mental attitude which has been
seen to be necessary for literal poverty to be productive,
and in a more exact sense as well.
Just as obedience stood for the subjugation of the per-
sonal to the divine will, so poverty stands for the subjuga-
tion of the intellect to the spirit. If the mystic allows no
dependence on anything which is less than God, he cannot
permit a final trust in the intellect. He recognizes, it
would seem, that its domination is as dangerous as, and
more subtle than, the admittedly undesirable domination
by the body. And since he claims the overshadowing of
1

1 "
Cf. e.g., Tbeologia Germanica, chap, xx : Now, nothing is so com-
fortable and pleasant to nature, as a free, careless way of life, therefore

152
 St. Francis of Assist
all the parts by the spirit, he is driven to asking that the
intellect may be considered in its proper place as one of the
servitors of that king. He does not ask for its annihilation
any more than he asks for what would be quite impossible
of fulfilment, the annihilation of the will, because he is
fully aware of the need for the co-operation of all the parts
and aspects of man. His aim is to arrange them in their fit
and proper places giving each their due and despising
none, but also not exaggerating the importance of any to
the detriment of their true ruler. It is in the defence of this
desire that he meets with the strenuous opposition of all
those who owe allegiance to the sovereign reason, and know
no greater king. ;

Speaking very broadly the mystic has two lines of

defence for his position, the one a -priori and the other
a -posteriori. That which is postulated as the goal of life
and the purpose of manifested existence is the knowledge
of God, ^.nd life is therefore to be arranged with this
achievement for its sole end. Whatever is likely to make
for success will be encouraged above all else, but no one of
the many contributing factors will be unduly exalted. To
claim that reason can arrive by its own efforts at the know-
ledge of God is to presuppose that reason is capable of
comprehending what is conceived as infinite, a position
which disregards the possibility of there being truths
which are, by their very nature, above the sphere of reason.
For to say that a thing is impossible because it is unreason-
able is to say that man's reason is co-extensive with the
she clingeth to that, and taketh enjoyment in herself and her own
powers, and looketh only to her own peace and comfort and the like.
And this happeneth most of all, where there are high natural gifts of
reason, for that soareth upwards in its own light and by its own power,
till at last it cometh to think itself the True Eternal
Light, and giveth
itself out as such, and is thus deceived in itself, and deceiveth othe r

people along with it, who know no better, and also are thereunt o
inclined."

'53
 St. Francis of Assist
divine possibilities, and there do not appear to be any data
on which to base such a supposition. The conception of
the universal spirit confined within the narrow limitations
of a human intellect: is too suggestive of a God made in the
image of man to commend itself to the mystic. His point
is not
necessarily to argue that the highest truth must be
unreasonable, but to suggest emphatically that it may be
so that its being unreasonable is not in itself a proof of a
thing's untruth.
The view of the mystic in general, then, is that reason
may to a great degree prepare the way, but it cannot reach
the goal by its own efforts. He does not condemn it as
such or totally despise it; he does not attempt its abolition
but insists on the fact of its limitation. It is evident, for
example, that when there are strong intellectual grounds
for a disbelief in the possibility of spiritual life which
possibility is the kernel of mysticism one of the best
methods of combating those objections will be the use of
reason itself. It may clear the ground of rational hin-

drances, as it fights the adversary with his own weapons,

but at the most it will produce an intellectual conviction
and not a vivid knowledge. To know any of the great
is of a certain value in
spiritual truths intellectually pre-
paring the way to the real and intimate knowledge which
may follow it, but in respect of efficacy and force it pales
before such intimate knowledge as a rushlight before the
sun. The one is a knowledge of the mind, but the other a
knowledge of the whole being, with the additional force .

of the spirit which impels the whole being into the course
demanded by such a knowledge.
The advance of reason unaided towards the things
of the spirit is a cold, pallid, tentative thing: it recoils at
the first touch of what it seeks in fear of violating its own
postulates, and lacks that whole-hearted and abundant
vitality
which is the real condition of success in the quest*
 St. Francis of Assist
Reason can prepare the form with infinite cunning, and
surround it with proofs of its accuracy and an over-
sufficiency of reasons why it, and it alone, must be final and
complete, but without some other inspiration the form
remains rigid and cold. Into it must be breathed the fire
of something other than itself, at whose advent the statue
is touched to life. The incapacity by its very nature of the
unaided reason to cognize the ultimate reality is thus the
line of a -priori defence.
The alternative argument is simply an appeal to experi-
ence. What is the condition in which the knowledge of
God is gained according to the testimony of generations of
mystics ? Contemplation. What is the distinguishing
characteristic of contemplation ? Definitions of it abound
throughout the centuries. St. Augustine speaks of it as a
joyful admiration of a clear truth; St. Bernard as an eleva-
tion of the mind suspended in God, tasting the delights of
an everlasting sweetness Richard of St. Victor as a free
;

discernment of the mind, which is in a state of suspension

through admiration of the spectacle presented by the
divine wisdom; St. Thomas as a simple looking upon the
1
truth. Scaramelli's definition is that contemplation is an
elevation of the mind of God, or in things which are divine,
with a simple look of admiration and love of those things. 2
Finally, Father Doyle, following
"
the teaching of Schram,
defines contemplation as the uplifting of the soul to God
3
by a simple intuition full of affection." The quality
which is brought out in common by all these definitions
is that in
contemplation there is no use of the intellect
the mind is in a state of suspension and the sight of the
truth is a clear sight presented without intellectual effort.
1
See Scaramelli, // Direttorio Mistico, tratt. ii, cap. iv, sec. 33.
2
Ibid., ii, iv, 34.
3
Quoted in A Manual of Mystical Theology, by the Rev. A. Devine,
chap, iii, p. 29.

'55
 St. Francis of Assist
But it is admitted on all hands that a state of
contemplation
is reached as a rule after a considerable period of prepara-
tion, and it is into this period that the use of the intellect
enters. The for contemplation is
" proper preparation
meditation Meditation sows, and Contemplation reaps:
Meditation seeks and Contemplation finds: Meditation
prepares the Food, Contemplation savours it and feeds on
"-1
it and the point in which the one is distinguished from
the other is that whereas in meditation the truth is sought
with repeated acts of the intellect and the imagination, in
contemplation the truth is simply seen without effort. 2
" "
It differs from meditation,'* says Father Doyle, in that
it is made without without the use of sensible
reasoning,
images ... by a pure, quiet, simple operation of the mind
3
which we call The two are compared by
intuition."
Scaramelli to the condition of the audience in a theatre
before and after the raising of the curtain. In the first case
they will search with their minds the probable details of
the scene they are about to see, and will all arrive at more
or less different conclusions as a result of the intellectual
method. But when the curtain is raised they will all see,
simply by looking and without further effort, the scene
4
in its entirety.
Thus the mystic convinced of the utility of the reason
is
in the preparatory stages,and of its final inutility for the
cognition of the ultimate verities, both by the argument
from the nature of the mind and by the appeal to recorded
experience.
Singularly enough, his position has received unlooked-
for support from a source in which, generally speaking, the
emphasis is laid on the power of the intellect in all ultimate
enquiries. Whereas the mystic has desired to know God
1
Molinos, The Spiritual Guide^ Preface, sec. 18.
2 s
Scaramelli, op at., ii, iv, 35. See Devine, op. tit., p. 29.
4
Scaramelli, op. '/., ii, iv, 36.

156
 St. Francis of Assisi
by actual experience, the philosopher has sought to know
about Him by all the means of which his intellect was
capable, and yet it is from the side of philosophy that the
support has come. The name of M. Bergson stands for a
degree of fearless thought which has seldom been reached,
and though his suggestions have not been received with
overwhelming gratitude by his confreres as a whole, they
have yet to be disproved. It is a case of intellect, lit up, it
may with the touch of something yet higher than itself,
be,
dealing with intellect, and showing its limitations; and
y
between M. Bergson s conclusions and those of the mystics
it
may be possible to find a considerable measure of agree-
ment. ; .

The foundation of his position is that " originally we

think only in order to act. Our intellect has been cast in
the mould of action." Taking man, that is, as an organism
living in a material world, M. Bergson conceives him as
having been under the necessity of applying himself to
gaining a certain c6ntrol over it in order to continue in
existence; and his intellect as having therefore applied
itself to
acting on that by which"he was surrounded, both
for defence and nourishment. Speculation is a luxury,
while action is a necessity." 1 The intellect, therefore, aims
first of all at constructing at using inert matter for what-
ever its purpose may be. Now whatever be the final truth
about matter, it is evident that for the intellect to be able
to act on it, it must regard it as cut up into so many blocks
which it can use in its construction. If it were to regard it,
for example, as being in a perpetually fluidic state, it could
no more use it for the purposes of construction than it
could make use of a river for that purpose. Its natural
procedure, then, is to decompose the material world into
whatever parts are most convenient for it, and to regard

1
Creative Evolution, p. 46.

157
 Sf. Francis of Assisi
these as provisionally final divisions to treat them as so

many units of which it can make use. Its action is therefore

discontinuous there is, that is to say, no continuity
between one of the units it isolates and another and it is
only of the discontinuous, the immobile, that the intellect
forms a clear idea. It is not specifically concerned with the
continual flow of things, with their progress, just because
its natural
purpose is action ; but in place of the continual
flow it can range in succession a lot of unmoving things
and so, in some sense, reconstruct the flow, and in place of a
thing's progress it can see quite clearly the goal towards
"
which that thing is
moving. The intellect," that is,
"
is characterized by the unlimited power of decomposing
1
according to any law, and of recomposing into any system."
Now it is just because the natural function of the intellect
is to render action
possible, and just because action is only
possible when the material world is regarded by the intel-
lect as composed of so many stable units, that the intellect
finds itself seriously handicapped when it attempts to
apply itself to other things than action. Take, for example,
its effort to deal with ideas. M. Bergson's theory is that
the characteristic of human language is that the signs of
which it is composed can be applied to more than one thing.
It is not, as he suggests is the case with the animal, com-

posed of a series of signs of which each refers to one thing

and one thing only it is a series of signs each of which is
applicable to any number of things, and can pass from one
thing to another. This mobility of the human language is
the cause of the intelligence which employs it being able
to pass, not only from one thing to another, but also
"
instead of being riveted to the material objects which it
"
was interested in considering from a perceived thing
to a recollection of that thing: to think about the thing
instead of thinking the thing, and so, eventually, to pass to
1
Creative Evolution? pp. 162-5.

158
 St. Francis of Assist
an idea of the thing. Language has, in fact, enabled man
to have ideas, to theorize about things, and M. Bergson
believes that this capacity to theorize is
peculiar to man's
1
intellect.
The difficulty is that the intellect, having been shaped on
action, naturally brings to its dealings with ideas the proce-
dure which it used for action. Just as it regarded matter
as of so many discontinuous units, so it
" composed
being
must, to think itself clearly and distinctly, perceive itself
under the form of discontinuity." Its concepts are outside
of and distinct from each other; they are each isolated and
individual, as were the provisional units into which it
divided up matter, and it is therefore absolutely unable to
think continuity. To put it in another way the intellect
is
absolutely unable to think becoming the nearest it can :

get to it is to think of a series of states (which are the units

into which it has divided up becoming, so that it can com-
prehend it) and to reconstitute from them the becoming.
But it is evident that such a procedure will never give it an
idea of becoming as it really is it is a substitution of a
:

number of fixed and given units for a continuity which is

always progressing. If life (as M. Bergson thinks) be
essentially a becoming; a continual creation of something
new as the past eats into the future and produces an ever-
disappearing present; if life, that is, be characterized by
this new thing that is always coming into existence, it is
clear that the intellect can never grasp it. Directly th?
new thing has come into existence the intellect can grasp
it
readily enough, but its coming evades that faculty
2
altogether.
The simile of the cinematograph perhaps shows this
more clearly than could any other. Just as the cinemato-
graph reproduces an appearance of life by means of a series

1 a
Creative Evolution, pp. 166-8. Ibid., pp. 169-74.
159
 Sf. Francis of Assist
of snapshots on a film, plus the movement inside the
machine itself, so the intellect divides up any becoming
into a series of states which are virtually snapshots of life,
each separate and isolated from the other; and then, with
the help of the general idea of becoming which it has
got from observation and is the equivalent of the move-
ment inside the machine it reproduces the actual becom-
ing itself. It is clear that this reproduction has very little
connection with the real becoming: the general idea of
becoming that has been obtained from observation teaches
nothing of the actual transition itself. It is the link that the
intellect uses to join up the successive states into which it
has divided becoming, but of that becoming of the
transition, of what happens between one state or snapshot
and another it can tell nothing whatever. 1 The con-
"
clusion, it has been seen, is that the intellect is character-
ized by a natural inability to comprehend life," inasmuch
2
as life is
essentially this perpetual becoming.
It is this inadequacy of the reason to comprehend the
vitalthings that is the common theme of mysticism. Ruys-
broeck is particularly insistent upon it, as when he says
"
that because certain things begin and terminate in that
endless essence which is an abyss, reason and considera-
tion fail; ... at the sight of God, reason succumbs and fails.
It sees something, but what ? It cannot tell; for the

faculty of understanding is lifted up into a kind of know-

"
ledge without mode or form of any kind."
3
This rapid
descent which God requires of us is simply an immersion
in the abyss of the Divinity, incomprehensible to the
intellect; but where the intellect stops short, love advances
and goes in." 4 And again he speaks of the seventh degree
1 2
Creative Evolution, pp. 320 et seq. Ibld^ p. 174.
3
Reflections from the Mirror of a Mystic (translated by Earle Baillie),
pp. 27-8.
4
Ibld^ p. 19.
1 6O
 St. Francis of Assist
"
of love as being reached when, above all comprehension
and all
knowledge, we find in ourselves a bottomless not-
knowing."
*
An
English treatise on contemplation takes
the same God is " incomprehensible to all
attitude.
created knowledgeable powers, as is angel, or man's soul;
I mean, by their
knowing, and not by their loving. . . .

But yet all reasonable creatures, angel and man, have in

them each one by himself, one principal working power,
the which is called a knowledgeable power, and another
principal working power, the which is called a loving power.
Of the which two powers, to the first, the which is a know-
ledgeable power, God that is the maker of them is ever-
more incomprehensible." 2 And later: f< He may well be
loved but not thought. By love may He be gotten and
holden ; but by thought never." 3 But in truth such state-
ments abound throughout the literature of mysticism, and
it would be to labour the
point unnecessarily to cite further
examples.
But if man be debarred by the limitations of his intellect
from a comprehension of anything more ultimate than
these disjefta membra of life, is he thereby condemned to an
unending ignorance of the real which lies behind them ?
Is there no other faculty which may supersede the intellect,

by means of which he may penetrate into a region to which

the intellect has no entry ?
M. Bergson comes forward with the suggestion that
such a faculty does not lie without the bounds of possibility,
and bases his belief on a prolonged consideration of the
characteristics of instinct and intelligence. His conclusion
is that
they are divergent directions of one original impulse
and not successive degrees of one tendency: but just
because they were together in the original impulse of life
1
Of the Seven Steps in the Ascent of Spiritual Love, chap. xiv.
2
The Cloud of Unknowing, chap. iv.
3
Ibid., chap. vi.
161 L
 St. Francis of Assisi
they still retain something of their common origin. They
are never found, that is, entirely distinct from one another,
but they imply two radically different kinds of knowledge. 1
The line or argument is that in the case of instinct the
knowledge displayed is in one sense unconscious with the
kind of unconsciousness that is the result of the action
being precisely co-equal with the representation of it.
Thus, for example, it is perfectly true that anyone who is
doing something very intently is for the moment uncon-
scious of the fact that he is doing it, and will continue
unconscious of it while his intentness lasts, or until some
interruption occurs which makes him immediately con-
scious of what he was doing. In this sense conscious-
"
ness is the inadequacy of act to representation," in that
a man represents himself to himself as doing the act when
the act is not enough to take up all his attention. Such a
condition, in which the man may hesitate and choose
between one alternative and another, is the natural product
of intelligence, but for instinct the normal condition is one
where the action coincides with the power of representation,
and it therefore tends to unconsciousness. 2 It will be re-
membered that intellect was said to be characterized by a
natural inability to comprehend life instinct, on the other
:

hand, is said to be modelled on life itself; to be of one

piece with the life that organizes matter. It does not, that
is, go outside of life (which is becoming) and take snap-
shots of it, but remains in life and is in the becoming itself.
Both instinct and intelligence are forms of the one principle
which is life, but while intelligence goes outside that prin-
ciple and looks at it, so to speak, instinct remains in it and
coincides with its work. 3 But intellect is conscious, though
it has lost its oneness with life
thereby, while instinct has
retained that oneness and so has a much greater and more
1
Creative Evolution, pp. 142, 143, 150.
2 3
Ibid.) pp. 151-3. Ibid., pp. 174, 177.
 Sf. Francis of Assist
intimate knowledge, although it is unconscious. M. Berg-
son suggests that this is the explanation of the fact that
animals appear to have so great an intelligence, but that
instead of crediting them with intelligence, it would be
better to regard them as having a kind of sympathy which
enables them to act with an intimate knowledge, but
without consciousness. It is a faculty which does not rest
on outward perception, but expresses the relation of one
activity to another. It discerns from within, just as intellect
remains outside, and resembles in some way what we
it

feel in ourselves from time to time when we have feelings of

sympathy and antipathy without reflection. In our case

the intuition, the divining sympathy,' is conscious it is

represented, that is, to ourselves ; but in the case of instinct

it is lived rather than
represented acted rather than
known. 1
M. Bergson's point is this. That which we regard as
instinct or this sympathy in animals, is in man intuition : it
"
is the same thing become disinterested, self-conscious,
of reflecting upon its object and of enlarging
it
capable
indefinitely." It has all the closeness to life that has the
animal's instinct; all the unreasoning power of knowledge
that an animal has ; all the quickness of arrival at the im-
portant point that an animal has; but in addition it is
conscious. To take an actual case of it the intention of
:

"
life
escapes our intellect, but this intention is
just what
the artist tries to regain, in placing himself back within the
object by a kind of sympathy, in breaking down, by an
effort of intuition, the barrier that space puts up between
him and his model." It is obviously not by an intellectual
effort that he does it; it is rather by a piercing
through by
means of the faculty that has been called intuition. This
is admittedly a case which affects the individual
only, but
the suggestion is that if an inquiry were turned in the
1
Creative Evolution, pp. 183-5.

163
 St. Francis of Assist
same direction as art,which would take life in general as its
object, might succeed in supplying precisely what the
it

intellect misses. Intuition might utilize the intellect to

it its own limitations, and
prove to might even suggest a
vague
" feeling of what must take its place. And further,
by the sympathetic communication which it establishes
between us and the rest of the living, by the expansion of
consciousness which it brings about, it introduces us into
life's own domain, which is
reciprocal interpenetration,
1
endlessly continued creation."
Now, it would seem that this describes precisely what
the mystics have been doing for as long as the records
speak of them, and precisely what has been the essence of
all their efforts. Their history is the history of a succession
of attempts to pierce behind the veil of appearance, and first
to penetrate into, and then to live within, the reality which
lies behind. In the sentence of M. Bergson last quoted are
contained the two large directions of their efforts and their
" "
achievement. The introduction into life's own domain
stands for the mystic's penetration into the life in the one
underlying Reality which for him is God the living in the
:

ceaseless becoming of life, for his experience of the still

rest and the unceasing activity at the Centre. Further,
when M. Bergson speaks of the " sympathetic communica-
tion which it (intuition) establishes between us and the rest
"
of the living it sounds as the very echo of a state common
to unnumbered mystics. It is one of the most striking
sides of St. Francis ; 2 the awakening of Brother Lawrence
came about by what was, in effect, such a sympathetic
communication between his own inmost life and that of a
3
leafless tree, and it has at all times been the common

experience of mystics of a certain type. Of Boehme it has

1
Creative Evolution, pp. 186-7.
2
See below, chap, xviii.
3
The Praftice of the Presence of God^ Conversation I.

164
 Sf. Francis of Assisi
"
been said that he remarked that he gazed into the very
heart of things, the very herbs and grass, and that a6hial
Nature harmonized with what he had inwardly seen";
"
that viewing the herbs and grass of the field in his inward
light, he saw into their essences, use and properties, which
were discovered to him by their lineaments, figures and
signatures.*'
-

Blake knew that a tree could move some men

1

to tears of joy; 2 to Tennyson and Wordsworth the flower

in the crannied wall and the primrose by the river's brim

conveyed hints of the vaster life which was behind them all.
To go, however, a sl:ep farther with M. Bergson's con-
sideration of the intellect and that which may supersede it.
It will be remembered that both intelligence and inslincT:
are said to have sprung from one and the same principle,
and that in the case of intelligence that principle specialized,
so to speak, on matter, while the other branch specialized
on its own movement. This other branch of the principle
was rightly intuition, but it appears that by the necessity
it was under of concerning itself with the a6tual life with
which it was occupied, it became incapable of conscious-
ness in the sense in which M. Bergson uses the word, and
therefore shrank down to inslincT:. But in intellect, what-
ever its disadvantages, it was at any rate free of matter,
inasmuch as it was outside itself, and it has therefore the
"
power to turn inwards on itself, and awaken the poten-
3
tialities of intuition which slill slumber within it."
Before considering the question of the awakening of
these potentialities, it will make for clearness to consider
for a moment what is meant by this principle which is
conceived as passing through things, and manifesting in
one case as intelligence and in another as inslind:. It is
"
said to be consciousness, but not the narrowed conscious-
1
Quoted by Miss Underbill, Mysticism, p. 307.
3
of William Blake, p. 62.
-Letters
8
Creative Evolution, p. 192.

165
 St. Francis of Assisi
ness that functions in each of us." not the individual
It is

consciousness, but a larger thing with which the individual

consciousness can, in certain circumstances, coincide, of
which the individual consciousness is, as it were, a part
1
only. Intellect is a kind of local concentration in the
ocean of life it is the nucleus of a wider reality but just
because it does not differ radically from its principle which
surrounds it, it can be reabsorbed therein. It may, as it is
"
said, live back again its own genesis," a process which
"
will end by expanding the humanity in us and making
us even transcend it." 2 Between such a conception and
that of the mystics themselves there is a similarity on which,
by reason of its obviousness, it would be superfluous to
insist. It speaks in the mystics' own accents: it is one
with their view of the individual consciousness as part of a
wider consciousness which is the one real and truly living
thing, in which the individual consciousness may be re-
absorbed by a process of expansion so that in the end the
limitations of humanity as it is generally known may
veritably be transcended. It may seem, though, as it is a
question of going beyond the intelligence and as the intelli-
gence is the one clear thing in man's consciousness, that
it is a contradiction in terms to speak of
going beyond it,
for the evident reason that as man is inside his own thought
he cannot get out of it. The answer suggested by M.
Bergson is the answer that has been given almost "
unani-
mously by the mystics. It is, in a word, that reason,
reasoning on its powers, will never succeed in extending
"
them that instead of discussing whether it be possible
to know otherwise than by intelligence, the step must
"
be taken of leaving reason merely, and thrusting intelli-
3
gence outside itself by an act of will."
But it is the question of the awakening of the potentiali-
1 a
Creative Evolution, p. 250. Ibid., pp. 202-3.
3
Ibid., pp. 202-4.
166
 St. Francis of Assisi
ties of intuition that is of the greatest interest for mysticism.
It is improbable that M. Bergson can suggest any- more
precise directions as to how this is to be effected than can
be found already in the mystics, but his suggestions con-
stitute a peculiarly close parallel to their recommendations.
The awakening is to come by the intellect turning inwards
on itself, and the suggestion is that the intuition which is
thus aroused may supply precisely what the intellect
misses. Is this not word for word the doctrine of intro-
version the conviction that man must go within himself
and there find the key of all riddles P 1 In one of the
innumerable passages where Ruysbroeck speaks of con-
templation reaching a super-intelle&ual knowledge, he
represents it as fulfilling exactly the same function as
M. Bergson ascribes to intuition. " Contemplation is a
knpwing without mode, for ever abiding above the reason.
Never can it descend therein, and above it can the reason
never ascend. The shining forth of That which hath no
mode is as a fair mirror wherein there shineth the Ever-
lasting Light of God. It is without attributes, and therein
2
all the workings of the reason fail."
M. Bergson does not, however, confine himself to these
suggestions, but expands the idea in words which bear an
ever-increasing resemblance to the language of mysticism.
"
The effort we make to transcend the pure understanding
introduces us into that more vast something out of which
our understanding is cut, and from which it has detached
itself. . . Into this reality we shall get back more and
.

more completely, in proportion as we compel ourselves

to transcend pure intelligence." Man gets back, that is,
into the ocean of life the vatfissimum divinitatis pelagus of
1
See Miss Underbill, Mysticism, pp. 362 et se$., for a number of quota-
tions from the mystics expressive of this conviction.
2
The Book of the Twelve Beguines (translated by John
Francis),
chap, viii

167
 St. Francis of Assist
Ruysbroeck of which his own understanding is an iso-
lated part, but which is, nevertheless, his rightful place.
" "
Let us then," he continues, concentrate attention on
that which we have that is at the same time the most
removed from externality and the least penetrated with
intellectuality. Let us seek, in the depths of our experi-
ence, the point where we feel ourselves most intimately
within our own life. It is into pure duration that we then

plunge back, a duration in which the past, always moving

on, is
swelling unceasingly with a present that is absolutely
new. But, at the same time, we feel the spring of our will
strained to its utmost limit. We must, by a strong recoil
of our personality on itself, gather up our past which is
slipping away, in order to thrust it, compact and undivided,
into a present which it will create by entering. Rare
indeed are the moments when we are self-possessed to this
extent: it is then that our actions are truly free. And even
at these moments we do not completely possess ourselves.
Our feeling of duration, I should say the actual coinciding
of ourself with itself, admits of degrees. But the more the
feeling is deep and the coincidence complete, the more the
life in which it replaces us absorbs intellectuality
1
by trans-
cending it." The similarity of this recommendation to
those of the mystics for whom the ingoing of contemplation
was an accomplished fact, needs no emphasis.
But still further. It will be remembered that the indi-
vidual consciousness has been said to be able to coincide
somewhat with that principle which passes through things,
which is, in reality, a larger consciousness. The means by
which it does this is "to detach itself from the already-
made and attach itself to the being-made. It needs that,
turning back on itself and twisting on itself, the faculty of
seeing should be made to be one with the act of willing

1
Creative Evolution, pp. 210-11.
J68
 St. Francis of Assist
a painful effort which we can make suddenly, doing
violence to our nature, but cannot sustain more than a few
moments." Without forcing parallels where they are not
legitimate, is not this detachment from the already-made,
the past, that is, very close to the clearing the mind of all
"
sensible images the keeping the thoughts bare and
"
stripped of every sensible image," the understanding
"
opened and lovingly uplifted to the Eternal Truth of
Ruysbroeck when he is
speaking "of contemplation ? He
says that the result will be that the
" spirit spread
out in the
sight of God as a living mirror will be ready to receive
the divine likeness. 1 M. Bergson says that a dim conscious-
"
ness is gained we brush it lightly asit passes," as he puts
it of the pure willing that communicates life to matter,
and further, that it is possible to get to this principle of all
things, this larger consciousness, by precisely that faculty
of which the awakening is under discussion namely,
2
intuition. This mention of the pure willing that com-
municates life to matter finds a curious parallel in Boehme,
who uses the phrase continually. Speaking, for example,
"
of the source of the fire, he says: There is nothing in
herself but a willing of the eternal Father in the eternal
nature which he hath appointed in himself to reveal . . .

and that will is eternal and is not stirred up by anything

"
but by itself." And again, Enter into the way of love
. .
. and then you are in Christ, born in God, and attain the
divine will." 3
This consciousness of the pure willing, then, says M.
Bergson, is
gained by intuition, and he goes on to say pre-
cisely what the mystics have always said with regard to
their apprehension of knowledge by a means which is
above that of the logical understanding. Their cry has
1
The Book of the Twelve Beguines, Chap, ix, Part I.
8
Creative Evolution, pp. 250-1.
3
The Threefold Life ofMan, chap, i, 23-4, and chap, iv, 53.

169
 St. Francis of Assist
always been that they cannot bring down into the terms of
reason what they have experienced in a plane above reason,
and M. Bergson testifies that the intuition must be broken
up into concepts that it may be propagated to other men, "
but that that such breaking up will probably do is
all to
the
develop " result of that intuition which transcends it,"
and that the effort, by which ideas are connected with
ideas, causes the intuition which the ideas were storing up
to vanish." Now
this intuition is an intuition of the truth,
and, he claims, there is only one truth, so that for all who
have gained this intuition disagreement is impossible.
Such a suggestion reminiscent of Saint-Martin's remark
is

that all mystics speak the same language, for they come
from the same country, and it would seem'that this language
is the same just because it is the language of truth, which it

may be admitted amounts to saying that it is the language

of God. In this intuition of truth reality is felt to be per-
petual growth, according to M. Bergson; a conception
which has been noticed to bear a close resemblance to the
mystic's ceaseless "activity at the Centre; and later he
speaks of a centre as a continuity of shooting out," not
"
as a thing, and God as
x
unceasing life, action, freedom."
Not unduly to labour the point, it may be sufficient to
recall Boehme's idea of the centre from which all things are
"
generated, and how the eternal Word was in the begin-
ning (as in the centre) and the Word is God's, and the
2
eternal will is that Word." For the rest, similar passages
may be found in almost every chapter of Boehme's
writings.
vague and discontinuous
Intuition, then, remains in a
man, capable of being aroused at moments and of
state in

giving us glimpses of Truth"

and Reality. By it also,
however, M. Bergson holds, is revealed the unity of the
1
Creative Evolution, pp. 251-2 and 262.
2
The Threefold Life ofMan, chap, ii, 6.

170
 Sf. Francis of Assist
"
spiritual life," for intuition is in a certain sense life
"
itself in other words, there is in man a dormant reality
which is one with the great and continuous Reality, and
when it isawakened can cognize that Reality. But this
"
unity of the spiritual life can only be recognized when we
place ourselves in intuition in order to go from intuition to
the intellect, for from the intellect we shall never pass to
intuition." l Or, as Boehme and countless others have said :
"
We must wholly reject our own reason, and not regard
the dissembling flattering art of this world, it is not avail-
able to help us to that light; but it is a mere leading astray,
and keeping of us back." 2
A conception is thus arrived at of a life behind all mani-
"
festation, flowing ceaselessly through all things, sub-
dividing itself into individuals ... so that souls are con-
tinually being created which, nevertheless, in a certain
sense pre-existed," as M. Bergson puts it a conscious-
ness which is essentially free, but must adapt itself to the
matter through which it passes, and this life is one and
indivisible, as for the mystic is the spirit.
3
And it is of this
life that man become conscious by intuition, and it
may
is this intuition which exists in him, but in a
vague and
discontinuous state. Now, apart from the insistence of the
mystic on the inadequacy of the intellect to cognize the
ultimate things, is there in the literature of mysticism any
suggestion of a faculty which is to replace it, and so corre-
spond with M. Bergson 's intuition
"
? The answer must be
an unhesitating affirmative. We
must therefore have a
sensorium such communication," says Eckart-
fitted for
"
hausen, an organized and spiritual sensorium, a spiritual
and interior faculty able to receive this light; but it is
closed ... to most men by the incrustation of the senses.
1
Creative Evolution, p. 282.
a
The Threefold Life of Man, chap, v, 32.
3
Creative Evolution, pp. 284-5.
 St. Francis of Assisi
Such an interior organ is the intuitive sense of the trans-
cendental world, and until this intuitive sense is effective in
us we can have no certainty of more lofty truths." It
would be difficult to imagine a more exact description of
M. Bergson's faculty of intuition by which man is enabled
to grasp that which escapes the intellect. He has spoken
of it as existing vaguely and discontinuously Eckart-
hausen speaks of the spiritual sensorium as having been
"
naturally inactive since the Fall, which relegated man
to the world of physical sense," and of the opening of this
"
spiritual sensorium as being the mystery of the New Man
the mystery of Regeneration, and of the vital union
between God and man." l

The
conclusion is, then, that this vague and discontinu-
ous intuition is the
faculty by which, when it has become
clear and continuous, the union between God and man is
effected, and it is precisely this clear and continuous con-
sciousness of God which is the characteristic of the union
2
in its perfected state of the Spiritual Marriage. Inasmuch,
in M. Bergson's language, as the intellect is fashioned for
action, it does not constitute a faculty which sees in order
to see, but one which sees in order to act. But if it be
possible to get to Being direct by the use of the faculty of
intuition, if man can see in order to see instead of seeing in
"
order to act, the Absolute is revealed very near us and,
3
in a certain measure, in us. It lives with us." Could
there be a more precise statement of the very essence of
?
mysticism
These convictions as to the limitations of the intellect
being, as it were, part of the heritage to which the mystic is

1
The Cloud upon the Sanffuary, Letter I, pp. 7, 8.
a
See St. Teresa, The Interior Castle, Seventh Mansions ; Delacroix,
Etudes d'Histoire et de Psychologie du Mysticisme, pp. 55-8, 250-3, 416-7 ;
Scaramelli, // Direttorio Mistico, tratt. iii. cap. xxiii.
3
Creative Evolution^ p. 315.
172
 St. Francis of Assisi
born, the ultimate supersession of that faculty is inevitably
among the chief of his aims. His purpose is not to be
irrational for the sake of unreason, but finally to be super-
rational, and when he reaches this state human unreason
is no
longer a bar to belief. In a sphere where the pheno-
mena do not fall within the category of a lower sphere, it
is not the
phenomena that are denied, but the category,
with all due reverence to its efficacy in its proper place.
But because of the tendency of the intellect to usurp the
highest place of government and install itself as the
supreme ruler, and because of the excess of attention that
may easily be given to the intellect simply as intellect as
an end in itself, instead of one of the means the mystic is
armed with an insistence on its limitations.
 Chapter Eight
HE CONTINUAL EFFORTS OF ST.
Francis to protect himself and his followers from
{the danger
of an unaided intellectualism must
I take their place among his most characteristic
endeavours. It was on his part an impulse rooted in his

very nature, and his adversary was the tendency of a large

number of his brethren to wish to take their place with the
members of more learned Orders. There is unfortunately
no doubt that the struggle became a bitter one before the
end, but it is equally certain that in his own case at any rate
St. Francis preserved the directness and simplicity of
character which he valued so highly.
It may be that the part of his nature which was essentially
the poet in him inclined him naturally to such a view. He
was not, on that account, careless of fact or unconcerned
with accuracy, but the plain skeleton of any circumstances
would be insufficient to satisfyhim. A
mere mental
process, untinged by any of the deeper colourings of life,
would not answer the poet's demands the acquisition of
:

learning unsuffused by some greater vitality could not but

leave him cold and discontent. For though the poet does
not disregard facts, he considers them as the foundation
only of his building. Thus St. Francis, inasmuch as he was
a poet by temperament and this was to no little degree
was unable and unwilling to amass learning for its own
sake, and considered himself to the end of his life as a
simple and unlettered man. The Bishop of Acre, who saw
him arrive in the Holy Land and make his amazing
174
 St. Francis of Assist
attempt at the conversion of the Sultan, attested his
simplicity and his little evidence of learning, as well as the
lovableness of his character and the affection with which
he seemed to be regarded both by God and man.
1
There
was a something other than intellectual acquirements
which radiated from him and impressed all who saw him
a something which was the foundation of his success and
his astonishing influence over men.
Certain of St. Francis' biographers have been at pains
to prove that his contempt for learning has been over-
emphasized and that his simplicity has been exaggerated
by tradition. But there is no reason to suppose that St.
Francis' references to his own ignorance in comparison
with the professed scholars are founded upon anything but
fact. Such ignorance would not make of him a fool
since lack of intellectual knowledge does not mean dullness
of mind but an enthusiast whose views of the desirability
of learning differed from those of his biographers. It has
been suggested, for example, that the implications con-
"
tained in St. Bonaventure that St. Francis was wanting
in culture "may be due to his repeated reference to his
own ignorance, and to the fact that such references were
2
grounded in his great humility. The objections to such
a view are that St. Bonaventure was himself acquainted
with St. Francis, 3 and so quite capable of judging as to the
amount of learning he possessed, and that to suppose St.
Francis guilty of wilful misstatement on this or any fact is
to go against the whole trend of his life. It is
perhaps even
more difficult now than it was in the thirteenth century, to
believe that the kingdom of heaven is not attainable by
reason alone, but the conditions of entrance into that king-
dom are probably enough unchanged.
To St. Francis, therefore, whose whole being longed to
1
See W. J. Knox Little, St. Francis of Assist (1897), pp. 169, 170.
3 3
Ibid., p. 87. Ibid., p. 16.

'75
 St. Francis of Assist
accomplish that self-annihilation which would open the
gates to the incoming of the Divine, intellectualism pre-
sented a very evident danger. There is a pride in learning
which is more diabolical as it is more subtle than the pride
of other possessions. It does not debar others from equal
possession, but it sets up a false standard ofjudgement into
which the spirit enters nowhere. It is the cold, reasoning,
unreasonable element of division which puts knowledge in
the place of wisdom and judges on a basis of learning
instead of on a basis of love. There is no reason to suppose
that the self-satisfaction of culture is less deadly than any
other variety of self-satisfaction, and there is only too much
evidence that it attaches itself to learning with a more
poisonous facility than to most other branches of "
achieve-
ment. St. Francis' way of putting it was that learning
makes many men indocile, not suffering a certain stiffness
"
of theirs to be bent by the discipline of humility ; and
his view was that a lettered man should retire for some time
and gather together the scattered energies of his heart,
that he might reform his soul for better things, and that
when such a redirection of his life had taken place he might
the better utilize all that he had previously amassed in the
way of learning. He saw the likelihood of glorying in
1

learning for its own sake, which is not only the sacrifice
of the spirit to the letter, but the prostitution of a human
faculty for the production of a definite evil. He speaks of
those whose aim is only to know the words that they may
gain a reputation for learning among others, as being
killed by the letter, as were those who concerned themselves
with the ingenious interpretation of the Bible, rather than
the accomplishment of its teaching. There was in his
mind a clear distinction between an intellectual apprecia-
tion of its message, and the understanding which showed

1
Celano, ii, 194.
176
 St. Francis of Assist
forth in action ;
and the difference between the two was the
1
difference between death and life.
A famous passage in the Mirror of Perfection brings out
this fear of a mental appreciation in place of enthusiastic

activity with particular distinctness. St. Francis was

arguing with the novice who was anxious to possess a

psalter of his own, and trying to show him that it would
be at any rate an unwise thing to do. Apart from the sense
of ownership it would produce, with all the deplorable
effects of such a sense, it was too suggestive of an inactive

position to commend itself. Charles the Emperor, he

said, and Roland and Oliver, and all great men, had
achieved their exploits with a valiant directness and
splendour of effort, and now there were many people who
were anxious to have honour and praise for simply reading
about what they had done. Similarly there were many who
would have honour by reading and talking about what the
saints had done, and this he feared would be the fate of the
"
novice if the psalter were allowed. As much knowledge
"
hath a man as he doth work was the summing-up of his
2
opinion, and consistently therewith he discouraged dis-
cussion of the martyrdom of the five brethren in Morocco,
3
although the fact of it gave him so acute a pleasure.
The incident of the expulsion of the brethren from their
house at Bologna has already been mentioned as an example
of the severity with which he treated any inclination to
swerve from literal non-possession. But into this particular
case there entered another consideration which offended
equally against his conviction as to the danger of learning.
The house was intended either to become a school itself,
or to be a place where the brothers could live and attend the
already existing schools of the university. In either case it

1
Writings, p. n, Admonition 7. Cf. Bonaventure, xi, i.
2
Mirror, iv.
3
Joergensen, St. Francois,
book iii, chap, vi, pp. 300-2.
177 M
 St. Francis of Assisi
stood for the learning of the schools as against the intimate
knowledge from experience which was, to St. Francis, the
one thing desirable, and the anger and contempt which he
poured out on those who were responsible for it show how
keenly he felt this attempt at a departure from his prin-
1
ciples. That he should have gone to the length of cursing
Peter Stacia is amazing in such a character, but the incident
is
paralleled by the occasion at the Chapter of the Mats,
when certain of the brethren tried to persuade him to alter
his Rule so that it should become more like the Rules of the
learned Orders. His answer was final. He utterly refused
to grant their wishes, and after explaining that his was the
"
way of simplicity, broke out: With this learning and
wisdom of yours, may the Lord confound you, and I trust
in the castellans of the Lord that through them God will

punish you, and that you will return to your vocation for all
2
your fault-finding, whether you will or no." In such ways
did he convey by implication a rebuke to those throughout
the length and breadth of the Church who were giving way
to a tendency to amass learning, which was particularly
3
rife at that period. His whole life was a continual reproof
to the encouragement by the Church of learning for its
own sake, and a vindication of the truth that the final power
"
does not lie with the mind alone. With God,'* he would
"
say, there is no
acceptance of persons, and the Holy
Ghost, the Minister General of the Religion, rests equally
on the poor and simple." 4
But it was not only on account of the ease with which
intellectual accomplishment gives way to, or, it may be,
produces, a cultured self-satisfaction, that St. Francis dis-
trusted it. With the direct singleness of his character he
1
See Cuthbert, Life, p. 298.
2
Mirror, Ixviii, as translated by Cuthbert; Life, p. 227.
*
See Joergensen, St. Franfois, book iii, chap, x, p. 347.
4
Celano, ii, 193.
178
 St. Francis of Assisi
found it difficult to believe that two separate paths could
be successfully followed at the same time, and the two paths
which caused such searching of heart among the brethren
were those of knowledge of the mind and the knowledge
of the heart. It is not possible to imagine that St. Francis
was so blind to facts as to hold that all working of the mind
was dangerous, any- more than to conceive him teaching
that such working was sufficient without the help of the
emotions. An entirely intellectual man, if such a thing
can be conceived, would be monstrous: an entirely emo-
tional man would be useless simply because he would be
without a directing force. In the event, emotion of one
kind or another is the motive force of every life, and so
much intellect is desirable as will direct it into the highest
channel: it is from their marriage that all good comes.
But while it cannot reasonably be doubted that St. Francis
realized this and desired to bring about this marriage in
himself and his brethren, he unquestionably felt the de-
sire of his time to give undue preference to the intellect

alone, and consequently reacted against it. He recognized

that there is a certain frigidity in intellectual processes
which may easily stop the sources of emotion, and so long
as these are checked, there is no help in any place. The
intellect cannot love, it can only admire it cannot adore,

it can
approve; and where the chilliness of admiration and
approval takes the place of the fervour of love and adora-
tion, there is, for the time being, a famine of the essence
of life. The fact of his reaction against the exaltation of
the intellect must, therefore, be borne in mind when St.
Francis* treatment of it is considered.
Thus in his description of the perfect Minister General
he draws the picture of a man whose chief concern will be
with the spiritual welfare of those under him, and in regard
to'learning says that he may be allowed to excel in it a
phrase which suggests a certain deprecation of such a gift
179
 St. Francis of Assist
"
and its
possibilities. Although he may be allowed to
excel in the gift of learning he ought in his behaviour
rather to bear the image of pious simplicity," are the exact
words he is reported to have used; and he makes an especial
point of mentioning that the Minister must not collect
books, nor occupy himself very much with reading, "lest
he be taking from his office what he is spending by antici-
1
pation on study."
On an occasion when a Minister asked him for permis-
sion to keep a great many books which he had, the answer
which St. Francis gave evidenced at once the insistence on
non-possession and the belief that their common end was
"
not to be reached by learning. I neither will, nor ought,
nor can, go against my conscience and the perfection of the
Holy Gospel which we have professed,""
he said simply, or
(as another biographer has it),
I am not going to lose
the book of the Gospel, which I have promised to obey, for
the sake of thy books." 2 He could see no need for learning,
in fact, and in the Second Rule, after an exhortation against

pride and the cares of the world, he said quite definitely that
those who are ignorant of letters should not trouble to learn
them, but should desire (apparently in some contradistinc-
tion thereto) to possess the spirit of the Lord. 3 The
passage suggests again that he doubted the possibility of
following the interior and what was, to some extent, the
exterior way, at the same time, and was willing that the
latter should be neglected rather than that the former
should be obscured.
It has been suggested that the views held by St. Francis
on this subject underwent some change as a result of the
great success of St. Anthony of Padua in preaching against
4
the heretics. St. Anthony had taken the habit of the

1
Celano, ii, 185; Mirror, Ixxx.
2 8
Mirror, iii ; Celano, ii, 62. Chap. x. Writings, p. 72.
*
L. le Monnier, Histoire de St. Francois d*4sfise (1889), vol. ii, p. 75.
180
 St. Francis ofAssist
Lesser Brethren at the shrine of the martyrs of Morocco,
and after a considerable interval had made a sudden and
overwhelming reputation as a preacher. He appears to
have combined personal enthusiasm with a profound
knowledge of theology and the patristic teaching, and it
seems reasonable enough that his success should have
made a great impression on St. Francis. But it is not so
clear that the impression was caused by his learning, or
that St. Francis saw reason on that account to change his
opinion as to its utility, as the Abbe le Monnier suggests.
From all that is known of St. Francis the characteristic
which was most likely to have impressed him would be the
fire and enthusiasm of St.
Anthony's conviction, and it
seems likely enough that it was this which caused St.
" "
Francis to address him as my bishop in the letter which
he wrote to him. Learned men were not scarce but enthu-
siasm was, and the appointment of St. Anthony as a reader
of theology at Bologna would therefore probably be the
result of the fervour of his life rather than the profundity
of his learning. In fact, a passage from the letter of appoint-
ment emphasizes St. Francis' anxiety that St. Anthony's
learning should not overwhelm the deeper activities of the
"
brethren. It pleases me that you should read sacred

theology to the brethren so long as on account of this study

they do not extinguish the spirit of holy prayer as is or-
dained in the Rule," he wrote, and when the anxiety with
which St. Francis viewed the foundation of a school of
teaching at all is recalled, it will be seen that such a recom-
1
mendation came from his very heart. His was not, how-
ever, a dogged unwillingness to give honour to theologians
for their learning, so far as that honour was their due, but
it rested on their power to make the spirit shine through
1
Life, pp. 303-6, and note 2 on p. 306 for authorities
See Cuthbert,
as tothe authenticity of the letter. See also Writings of St. Francis^ by
Fr. Paschal Robinson, pp. 180-1.
181
 Sf. Francis of Assist
"
the letter. We ought to honour and reverence all theo-
logians and those who minister to us the most holy Divine
Words as those who minister to us spirit and life," he wrote
in his will, 1 but for St. Francis the difference was com-

plete between such veneration and the loving sympathy

which he extended to those who showed such a simple
enthusiasm as Brother Leo. The one he venerated as
excelling him in a branch of activity in which he made
no effort to compete: the other he loved with all the
passionate enthusiasm of his nature.
A sane and wide simplicity was in fact the key to St.
Francis' heart. It stood, with him, for singleness of aim,
for directness, for frankness ; it was the condition in which

were possible the complete trust and the absolute freedom

from agitation which he possessed himself in so high a
degree. It was not concerned with diplomatic intricacies,
but rested on entire faith in the over-ruling of God it was
:

the antithesis of complication or an exaggerated subtlety in

any form. The simplicity that St. Francis desired was a
simplicity of intention no less 'than a simplicity of action,
and both the one and the other of these requisites were
lacking in the intellectual atmosphere of his time. In
comparison with his directness the schools were mazes of
complication, and learning therefore assumed in his eyes
a character directly opposed to his desire. Simplicity had
for him, as had all his special characteristics, one aim and
one aim only, and that was God and the knowledge of God
to the exclusion, if need be, of everything else. To be
content with God alone was with St. Francis the acme of
simplicity, for it was founded on a willingness to pass by
everything which did not make for the satisfaction of the
one sacrosanct desire. The desire for learning, in other
words, gave place to the desire for Wisdom in its highest
sense, and this he saw to be linked with simplicity, as
1
Writings, p. 83.
182
 St. Francis of Assisi
poverty was linked with humility and charity with obe-
dience. He acclaims Wisdom as queen and simplicity
as her sister, and these are among the virtues that no man
can possess unless he first die to the selfhood that obscures
him. Wisdom confounds evil, and simplicity confounds
all those copies of the one true Queen, which masquerade
1
as the wisdom of the world and of the flesh.
It is true that the cult of simplicity is open to many

abuses, and St. Francis saw more than one exaggeration of

it
during his life. It is easily made a cloak for stupidity,
for laziness, for lack of initiative yet he would gladly
pardon even rank stupidity if it were backed by genuine
fervour and devotion and it does not seem that he was
often deceived. A
peculiar power of penetration and a
quick grasp of character saved him from many pitfalls.
The immortal exploits of Brother Juniper, whose mental
limitations were equalled by his spiritual sincerity, cannot
have failed to cause him an acute delight, and in compari-
son with the intellectual tendencies of some of the brethren
he preferred a simplicity which bordered on inanity. 2 A
peasant who had found St. Francis sweeping out a church
had joined himself to the brotherhood, and considered
himself bound to imitate St. Francis in everything he did.
He copied him in the minutest details of everyday life,
rising and sitting, praying and sighing, and even spitting
as he did, and the Mirror of Perfection relates that St.
Francis rejoiced at so great purity and simplicity. 3 It is
easy to jeer, and perhaps easier still to err in the opposite
extreme.
But by the side of all his realization of the danger to
which intellectualism was subject, St. Francis had the con-
viction that its efficacy in matters of the spirit was over-
1
Salutation of the Virtues (Writings, p. 20). Cf. Celano, ii, 120.
2
See the Life of Brother Juniper at the end of the Fioretti.
3
Mirror, Ivii.

183
 St. Francis of Assist
rated. He took up the typically mystical attitude that the
knowledge of God could not be gained by way of the
intellect, and that the power of that faculty to effect real and
ladling spiritual betterment was strictly limited. It bore,
therefore, in his eyes a character of insufficiency, and he
never tired of pointing out to those dissidents from strict
poverty who were anxious to acquire learning that all their
skill in dialectic was not of so much avail as the
spiritual
enthusiasm of the unlettered brethren.
It may well be that
ultimately all conversion and all
spiritual influence are a result of a strong and active current
of love directed on the person by whom conversion is
experienced, and although love may not necessarily be
rendered impossible by intellectual activity, it is not, at any
rate, an essential or natural part of it. It is impossible
to love with the intellect to
possible, perhaps only
appraise with it and the vital change of life which is called
conversion is therefore outside the sphere of its influence.
On this St. Francis insisted with unremitting force. He
pointed out that the brethren were in danger of believing
that they were filled with devotion and illuminated with the
knowledge of God because of their understanding of the
scriptures, while, as a matter of fact, they would remain
cold and empty within, and be unable to return to their
pristine energy of prayer because of the time they had given
to intellectual pursuits. He insisted on the danger of
appropriation by such brethren of the results of their
preaching; the belief, that is, that the credit was due to
their own skill instead of to the grace of God; and ex-
plained to them in words that they could not mistake that
the people whom they believed to have been converted by
their own knowledge had, as a matter of fact, been moved
by the prayers of the simpler brethren who knew nothing
of what they had done. 1
1
Mirror, Ixxii.
184
 St. Francis of Assist
But just as they were ineffective in influencing others by
means of their learning, so were they unable to promote
"
their own spiritual advancement by those means. My
brethren who are led by desire of learning," he was by way
"
of saying, hands empty in the day of
shall find their
tribulation. I would therefore,
that they be rather strength-
ened in virtues, that when the time of tribulation shall come
they shall have the Lord with them in their straits. For a
time of tribulation is to come, when books shall be useful
for nothing, and shall be thrown in windows and cup-
boards." * The time of tribulation which St. Francis fore-
saw was the split among the brethren, into those who were
anxious to keep the Rule in all its severity and simplicity,
and those who desired to alter it in a way which meant a
departure from the characteristically Franciscan principles.
But in his mind there may well have been also the con-
viction that in any tribulation the knowledge of the intellect
is of no kind of use whatever for comfort or support, and
that the only efficacious help comes from a deeper and
more intimate source. Sorrow, trouble, ** the day of
"
tribulation these are not disorders of the reason, but
affections, as it were, of the heart, and the reason is there-
fore unable to bring peace and strength. The source
from which such help can come is the deeper knowledge
of that which is alone real and true and everlasting, and
one of the graces of tribulation is the forcing of this into
realization. At no other time is the sterility of uninspired

learning so pitifully in evidence, for the heart must be cured

by that which dwells in the heart and cannot be compre-
hended by the mind.
1
Mirror, Ixix; Celano, ii, 195. Cf. Mirror, Ixxii: "But they
who have taken no thought except to know and to show to others the
"
way of salvation, doing nothing for themselves (those, that is, who had
an exterior knowledge rather than an experience of religion) "shall
stand naked and empty before the tribunal of Christ."
I8 5
 St. Francis of Assist
For the whole essence of St. Francis rests on his con-
viction that the true nourishment of the soul is God, and
he could see no sufficient reason for giving time and atten-
tion to the development of a faculty fundamentally
incapable of knowing Him. It was in the stillness and the
silence of that faculty that he communed with the divine :

" "
drawing outward things inward," as Celano says, he
would uplift his spirit on high. And so the whole man,
not so much praying as having become a living prayer,
concentrated his whole attention and affection on the one
*
thing which he was seeking from the Lord." In such a
concentration there is no place for the play of the reason ;
it is in the exclusion of the
workings of the mind that such
concentration indeed consists, and on that which takes their
place that all its good depends. As has been said a thousand
times, God is known in the stillness of the mind, and with-
"
out it no communion is possible. If the body eats its
"
food in quiet," St. Francis would therefore say, which
food together with itself will become meat for worms, with
what great peace and tranquillity ought the soul to take its
"2
food, which is its God ?

In his determination absolutely to renounce propriety of

any sort St. Francis was intent on avoiding also that phase
of it as an abstract amassment by the mind which he
saw in learning, and he is reported as having expressed

precisely this view of it in his general insistence on poverty.

"
He that would attain this height must needs in all ways
renounce, not only the wisdom of the world, but even
knowledge of letters, so that, dispossessed of such an
inheritance, he may go in the strength of the Lord, and
give himself up naked into the arms of the Crucified, For
in vain doth he utterly renounce the world who keepeth

1
Celano, ii, 95.
2
Ibid., ii, 96; Mirror, xciv; Bonaventure, x, 6.
186
 St. Francis of Assist
1
in the secret places of his heart a shrine for hisown senses.""
That such a witness to the hindrances of learning should
be borne by so celebrated a scholastic as St. Bonaventure is
ample evidence of the importance that must have been
attached to it by St. Francis himself, and evidence also of
the impression that such an insistence musl: have made
upon the writer. A
desire for such a complete nakedness
of every semblance of possession was not a natural part of
the temperament of a philosopher and a theologian, and it
speaks volumes for the power of persuasion that St. Francis
carried with him that he was able to convince such a man
of its necessity. It is one with all his teaching on poverty,
and as the essence of that was non-attachment to, and not
any scorn for, that which was subject to possession, so in
this case the emphasis is laid on the need for detachment,
and not on any evil which might be supposed to reside in
the actual fact of knowledge. As he wrote to St. Anthony
in the letter quoted above, he had no objection to teaching
that did not overlay the more vital things, but he had grave
doubts of the ability of those things to survive in the face of
"
increasing intellectual acquirements. There are so many
who willingly rise unto knowledge, that he shall be blessed
who makes himself barren for the love of God," he said
to the novice who pestered him for permission to own a
2
psalter, and he would expound the paradox of the
Book
of Samuel, that the barren woman has borne many children,
as being applicable to the unlearned brotherwho neverthe-
3
less brought forth good fruit.
There are, finally, traces in St. Francis of that intuitive
faculty which it is suggested both by mysticism and
modern philosophy should take the place of intellectual
working. His sympathetic understanding of all the voices
of Nature is reserved for consideration in a later chapter,

1 2 3
Bonaventurfi, vii, z. Mirror, iv. Ibid., Ixxii.
I8 7
 'St. Francis ofAssist
but there is a Striking incident in his life which suggests
with exceptional vividness the difference between the two
methods. One time when he was at Siena a member of the
Order of Preachers visited him and talked for some time
of the life of the spirit. The visitor was a doctor of divinity,
and when he asked St. Francis his opinion on a text from
Ezekiel which he could not understand, St. Francis
naturally demurred to instructing a man who was evidently
more learned than himself. But the other insisted, and
put his question again. What, he asked, was St. Francis*
"
understanding of the saying, If thou proclaim not to the
wicked man his wickedness, I will require his soul at thy
hand," because he himself knew many people who were in
mortal sin whom he had not denounced. The answer
which St. Francis gave shows the naturalness with which
he applied the saying in a way which made it referable to
all the details of life. If the passage were to be taken as of
general application, he said, he took it to mean that what
was demanded was that a man should live in such a way
as to reprove the wicked, as it were, automatically, by the

example of his life and the purity of his conversation.

Avoiding the obvious interpretation that it was incumbent
on every man to go about proclaiming the wickedness of
his neighbours, he turned the tables on those who might
be inclined to do so, and insisted that what was fundament-
ally necessary was a shining example in their own lives.
The answer is said to have given immense edification to the
visitor, and caused him to remark as he went away that
"
this man's theology, based on purity and contemplation,
is a soaring eagle, while our learning crawls with its belly
on the ground." x
The comparison is not unjust the higher faculty which,
:

awakened by long periods of contemplation, enters into

1
Cclano, ii, 103 ; cf. Bonaventure, ix, 2.'
I
 .St. Francis of Assist
a region where the intellect cannot come, gains a source of
comprehension from which the logical faculty is debarred
by its very nature. St. Francis' theology was not an
intellectual acquisition, but was of the nature of this inner
intuitive sight which knows instead of propounding
theories: it pierces through the external into the very core
"
of the mystery. As Celano puts it, the lover's affection
entered within, whereas the knowledge of masters remains
without." *
The accumulation of sciences is a barren pursuit in
comparison with the attainment of a knowledge of that
reality which underlies them all, and there can be little
doubt that St. Francis touched that reality by the force of
"
his love and his great desire. I do not question thee as

being a lettered man," a certain cardinal said to him once

"
at Rome, he had, in Celano 's words,
after brought deep
"
things to light," but as one who has the Spirit of God;
and I gladly accept thy interpretation, because I know that
it
proceeds from God alone."
2
And it was this conviction
that his super-rational knowledge came from God and Him
alone that gave to St. Francis his certainty and his strength.
1 a
Celano, ii, 102. /&., ii, 104

189
 Chapter
IS THE PRINCIPLE OF OBEDIENCE IS
concerned with the will, and that of poverty
with the avoidance of either actual or mental
[appropriation, so the principle of chastity is
intended to make for the freedom of man from the tyranny
of the body and the emotions which seem specifically to
relate to it. On one side the monastic vows stand for three

aspects of freedom; on the other, and as a corollary, they

demand the subjection of those things from which freedom
is sought.. For subjection represents the obverse of free-
dom, and from both points of view the vows represent a
revaluation in the interests of the spirit. The subjection
attitude is visible in the question of obedience, more visible
in that of poverty, and most evident of all in the considera-
tion of chastity, and freedom (as its obverse) is, it may be,
increasingly obscured. But in effect both freedom and
subjection are permanent partners in all three questions,
and the only variation is in the degree in which they are in
evidence.
It seemsclear that the emotions were confused, if not
identified, with the body by the mystics in general, for the
broad reason, perhaps, that the more urgent desires were
the body, and the body offered a
felt to relate especially to
direct and evident subject with which it was possible to
deal. This confusion and even identification have, there-
1
fore, to be borne in mind, as implied in what follows.
1
It is interesting to notice that mediaeval psychology placed the
emotions under the general heading of physical, as opposed to rational.
" il "
Scaramelli classes all the emotions under corpo vile in this way
190
 St. Francis of Assist
It seems equally clear that the
body did not stand, in the
minds of many of the mystics, and the emotions
for itself
alone. By a strange process of symbolization it came to
represent, for them and to a particular degree, the lower
self against which they waged their unremitting war. And
in attempting to understand the reasons for such a repre-
it is not difficult to see some of the
sentation body's char-
acteristics which must have struck them.
In considering it, as compared with the spirit as con-
ceived by them, they could hardly fail to have been influ-
enced, in the first place, by the fact that whereas spirit
was by the hypothesis indivisible, matter was eminently
susceptible of division. Division in any aspect being
anathema to them, they were inclined to anathematize the
body as being composed of that which lent itself thereto.
From this to its becoming a symbol of division was a short
step. Its natural
demands, its normal needs, could not
but appear as tending towards separateness the body :

claimed a thing for itself as apart from other selves, and

insisted on the very fact of apartness as the foundation of
its claim. Its continued existence depended on the regu-

larity with which these claims were satisfied, its well-being

varied to a great extent with the attention given to its
demands, and it battened on separateness as the spirit was
nourished by universality.
Further, from a certain point of view the body stood for
that which seemed to divide off the essential part of one
man from another it became the sign of delimitation, of
:

that which barred the way to intimate contact between

what is ultimately vital in men by the fact of surrounding

(// Dlrettorio Mistico, tratt. i, cap. iii, sec. 31). See also Psychology, by
Michael Maher, S.J. (1905), where the mediaeval system is fully dis-
cussed and it is pointed out that the schoolmen treated the emotions
"
along with the passions, and these latter were passiones sensibiles vel
"
animates (p. 4.26).
191
 Sf. Francis of Assisi
it as with a veil.That such a veiling is a correlative of
manifestation, that it is the fate to which manifestation

must submit as the basis, it may be, of union on a higher

plane, was a conception which received no emphasis at the
hands of those who took this attitude. Their instinctive
dislike of division in any form led them on
to insist rather
the fact of the body standing for such division, and to treat
it
accordingly.
Besides the fact of it symbolizing what was so ardently
disliked, which may be regarded as its positive disability,
the body laboured under a negative disability of no less
gravity. It might easily be felt by those who treated it
with the least respect of all that the body was inadequate to
give them the one thing they desired. Inasmuch as their
whole purpose was knowledge of and communion with
God, it is not difficult to conceive them as regarding the
body as incapable of providing this. May there not under-
lie their scorn of it the feeling that all that is highest, all
that is final all, in a word, that is real cannot enter into
the consciousness of man by the way of the senses ? The
senses are the body's channels of communication, and if
God cannot be seen or heard or felt if He cannot be
cognized by any of the means with which the body is pro-
vided for cognizing the surrounding world it is inevitable
that a conviction of the body's inadequacy should result.
However high the dignity of the physical senses, and
however intricate and beautiful their working in connection
with the world of sense, they must, if they do not bring to
the mystics the communion which they seek, be held by ,

them to fail signally.

It is on this feeling of the body's inferiority that rests the
need of control. Though in their own sphere its activities
are equally sacred with those of the spirit in the spirit's
sphere, those spheres are not yet one. It does not follow
from the fact of its dependence on the same omnipresent
192
 St. Francis of Assist
power as the highest of man's aspects that it is of equal
value in the final analysis, or that all reason for repressing
one to the exaltation of the other is done away; for the
place of an inferior, if the inferiority be well and surely
established must beyond all casuistry be one of sub-
jection.
Standing thus at the head of a certain set of tendencies,
sealed with the mark of their direction, the body came to be
the symbol of that lower self in which those tendencies are
centred. And as such it not only suffered from the severi-
ties necessary for its own subjection, but received the blows
and underwent the privations that were aimed at that self.
It was the obvious scapegoat for all the sins of a more subtle

enemy that could not be seen.

The necessity for the control of the lower in the interests
of the higher is the foundation on which the doctrine of
asceticism is built. The ascetic is not a being without
desire, but one who sacrifices the many desires of the body
to the one desire of the spirit. Asceticism, like its foster-
mother religion, is a means to an end, and it is only when
this is forgotten that they both become barren. To regard
the subjection of the body as an end in itself is to mistake
the half-way house for the final goal, and to lose sight of the
object of all journeying in so doing.
The main which could be levelled at such a
criticism

position is that an insistence on the fact of present or

it is

apparent difference rather than on that of future or real

identity. If, it may be urged, the mystic has an ardent
dislike of division in any form, why does he in his occasional

tendency towards asceticism emphasize the division

between the body and the spirit instead of their unity ?
Would he not be more consistent in substituting some
transmutation of the lower part for its annihilation, some
utilization of the body to the ends of the spirit for its sub-

jection ? Is there no way in which it could produce

193 N
 St. Francis of Assist
impulse and motive power towards and in the higher part,
so that the spirit could be nourished by the transmuted
desires and activities of the body? Would it not be
possible, in fact, to exalt instead of debase ?
Now, between this view and that of asceticism there are
certain things in common. With both the aim is to pre-
vent the lower part and the indrawing desires which are
attributed to it from becoming a source of action ; with
both the aim is to avoid an identification of the soul with
the lower part instead of the higher. Both of them con-
ceive the lower part as having certain desires attaching to
it, which have been borrowed, so to speak, from the one
fount of desire which is neither of the higher nor the lower,
but capable of direction towards either. It is thus desire
in its misdirection which concerns them both, and its
redirection which is their common aim. Fundamentally
neither view is concerned with action so much as with the
desire that prompts the action; the point for them both
is not the
thing that is done, but the reason for its doing.
A little consideration will show that the external austerities
of asceticism are not simply due to a lust for suffering, but
to an exaggeration of one side of a conception which is
common to all mysticism. Suffering for its own sake is a
distortion of asceticism due to the fervour of the desire to
letsurvive no part of what is considered a hindrance. Like
most great and profoundly vital conceptions it has suffered
bitterly at the hands of its most enthusiastic advocates,
and has reached extremes of disproportion in which it
bears no resemblance to the fundamental idea. To the
true ascetic the harm of bodily gratification does not lie
in the fact that such gratification actually takes place, but
in the fact that he has acceded to the desire of the lower

part which prompted such gratification and is, by his

hypothesis, undesirable. There appears, in fact, nothing
inconsistent in the sight of an ascetic joining in any kind of
194
 St. Francis of Assist
physical enjoyment, if it be remembered that his point is
that he must approach the enjoyment without the physical
desire having had any power over him. The use of the
body for other and presumably higher purposes than its
own must always remain open even to the most convinced
ascetic.
This is, however, identical in its substance with that
which is required by the view which may be called that of
transmutation. It demands that the impulse of the lower

part should be used for the production of impulse and

motive power towards and in the higher, spiritual part, and
this is in effect only another way of saying that the desire of
the lower part shall be cut off and crushed out utterly
inasmuch as it is lower: inasmuch, that is, as it tends to
the gratification of the lower part only. The sensible
satisfactions of the body shall be used for the glorification
of the highest, and on this the advocates of both the views
find themselves in agreement. But there is a vital differ-
ence in the way in which they propose to arrive at this
common end. For the ascetic a necessary step on the
way towards the final abolition of the desire of the lower
part to forbid that part any actual gratification in action
is
his method
is to
stamp out such desire by allowing it
none but the absolutely necessary activity. He is so con-
vinced of the profound undesirability of the impulses of the
body as he knows it that he will give it no opportunity of
gaining ascendance over him. But in the true sense such
asceticism is only a temporary measure; the ascetic life
and the mystic life are neither partners nor antagonists, but
in the relation of night to day. The one is a preparation
for the other, and when the abolition of the desire of the
lower part as a source of action has been accomplished the
period of asceticism is over, and that part and its energy
may be fully utilized for the purposes of the spirit. Their
spheres are then, in some sense, one, for they are no longer
195
 St. Francis of Assist
antagonists, but master and servant. There is no liberty
during war, but when the war is over and the respective
positions of the combatants are decided, then even the
vanquished knows a greater freedom than he knew in the
throes of battle.
And who shall say that a life during which this repres-
sion has been chiefly in evidence, a life which has not, as its
critics will say, reached its proper fulfilment in respect of
numberless activities which, at the hands of others, are
capable of great sanctification who shall say that such a
lifehas failed of its purpose ? May not its activity con-
tinue, may not that soul which has gained due ascendance
over its body at the end of a tumultuous life and at the cost
of unspeakable efforts carry with it the fruits of just that
victory into the state into which it passes, wherever and
whenever that may be ? It is conceivable, indeed, that if
in the high wisdom of God it should return to a further
existence on the world as we know it, it would appear as
one of those to whom asceticism and the belief in the need
for repression of any kind is entirely foreign. If for it that
work were done so that it had learned the lesson of utilizing
the body instead of being used by it, there would seem no
reason why it should not turn to the sanctified fulfilment
of the body's functions with the utmost naturalness.
But for those for whom the lesson is still to learn, such
counsels can only be followed at the cost of a prolonged
delay. Sooner or later can it be doubted ? -there must
come the spell of repression which precedes the time of
fulfilment, and to those who are sincere in their search the
knowledge of the way for them is not over-far to seek. In
spite of indifference and sloth, in spite also of the plausi-
bility and the casuistry of reason with which the self-hood
will resist it, in his own heart it is known to each and de-
serted only to his loss. For the rule of abstinence must pre-
cede the rule of the transmutation of all things into means
196
 St. Francis of Asshi
of glorifying God, just as mystical crucifixion and death
must precede mystical resurrection. It is only possible to
be attached to things in God when a certain degree of de-
tachment from them in the flesh has been attained, and the
rule of transmutation is therefore not a rule for beginners,
but for proficients in the spiritual life. The watchword of
"
the anti-ascetic view is Love God and do what you like,"
and this is in effect the liberty of the children of God, but
the result of following its implications before the ever-
present love for God is assured is evident enough. If all
the impulses be indrawn towards the lower self, and that
lower self be the centre of its own cosmos in place of the
higher, the love for God will, ipso Jaffa, be non-existent, and
the doing of that which that self likes best will be chaos
unrestrained. If there be indeed in the world souls at
different stages of evolution, there must inevitably be one
rule for the strong and another for the weak, and asceticism
will find its place in the twentieth century as surely as it
found it in the Middle Ages. It will be condemned by the
one who is strong as surely as it will be necessary for the
other who is yet weak, and it will be resisted by many for
whom it is still inevitable, but it will not become the
anachronism that it is claimed to be to-day by many for
whom it is the one sure way of safety.
In its full signification, then, chastity relates to the body
in itself, to the emotions, and to the lower self against the
different aspects of which all the monastic vows are directed.
In its specific application as meaning complete abstinence
from all sexual activity it rests on principles similar to those
already considered. It does not assume that sex is inher-
ently evil because it demands abstinence from all expres-
sion, any more than asceticism assumes that a pillow is
inherently evil because it substitutes a stone; but just as
the one fears that too much comfort will enmesh the soul,
so the other feels that a man may well be enticed from his
197
 Sf. Praia's of Assist
proper concern by the demands of sex. The fear is a fear
of exaggeration, either of comfort or of sexual interest,
and, perhaps with the feeling that extremes can best be met
by extremes, abstinence is required in either case. As the
vow of poverty was called forth in part by the fear that
property engrossed an undue proportion of the attention,
so the vow of chastity was called forth by the feeling that
sex might well do likewise. The fear of over-attention to
anything that was not evidently God seems to have lain at
the bottom of chastity as applied to the emotions and the
body generally, and not specifically in regard to sex; but
if it be applicable to the bodily requirements as a whole, it
is
particularly so to those that are sexual. Their power of
monopolizing the attention is unique, and for the ascetic
it was in their
power of obsessing the mind to the practical
exclusion of everything else that their danger lay. It may
well have seemed to him that a man became bound to that
which he desired by the very force of that desire, and that
being bound he desired it still more, so that he was caught
in a vicious circle from which escape was only a very dim

possibility.
But besides this monopolizing of the attention by an
activity which was notoriously liable to abuse and marked
in the enormous majority of cases by all the self-centred
characteristics of the lower self, and besides the natural
dislike of the mystic of any kind to be impelled by the body
or to allow it to influence him as a source of action, there
was the extreme 'difficulty of dedicating sexual activity in
any effective way. As there is no force which is greater
for dedication so there is none which ministers more subtly
to the demands of the self-hood. It is, and surely obviously,
only in its highest and rarest manifestations that it is other
than self-seeking whatever of giving there be is generally
:

more of accident than of essence. The desire which in-

draws to the self is the death of the soul's life, and the
198
 St. Francis of Assist
greater part of sexual desire is characterized
by such
indrawing an
in especial manner. Effectively to dedicate
it, therefore, in the sense of offering it to God as the
ultimate cause and the final effect, is an undertaking that
will task any man to the limit of his powers, and be entirely

beyond the capacity of the spiritual beginner. Realizing

this, the ascetic preferred, to the attempt to utilize a desire
which was saturated with all that he was intent on combat-
ing, to repress all its activity so that he might be freed from
its
bondage.
But there
is
nothing in the doctrine of asceticism that
gives it
any claim to be regarded as final, nor anything
which discountenances the idea that -when the desires o
for example, the body and the lower self generally for
sexual expression have been suppressed as sources of action,
the force of the desire which normally manifests in that
manner should be used to a superior end. Sex, when it is
sanctified, which must mean when it is no longer aimed at
may reasonably be
the satisfaction of a selfish desire, is, it
supposed, one of the sure ways to the end of every mystic's
journey, as surely as sex when it is unsanctified is the direct
path to the present and actual hell of self-hood. As ever,
universal legislation is an absurdity, and to proclaim either
suppression or satisfaction of sexual desire as a way to the
kingdom of heaven for all men at all times is an error of
enthusiasm if it is nothing worse.

199
 Chapter Ten
T HAS BEEN REMARKED THAT
[asceticism and mysticism are general instincts
jof humanity,
and that monasticism owes its
jorigin to them as giving, presumably, an oppor-
tunity for the practice of the one and devotion to the other. 1
But though in humanity at large monasticism may have
been their natural result, it is not their only, or their
inevitable, fruit. Asceticism and mysticism are two of the
most outstanding characteristics of St. Francis, but he not
only had no desire on his own part to found or join himself
to a monastery, but successfully resisted the suggestions
of those in authority at Rome that he should do so. Con-
scious, it may be, of the abuses and distortion to which the
monastic life is liable, he had it clearly in mind from the
moment when his ministry may be said to have begun, that
whatever its possibilities for good it was not the method
that was marked out for himself and his companions. He
saw an alternative way, the way of active service in the
world, the way of contact with, rather than seclusion from,
his fellow creatures, the way of living literally in the world
but not being of it, and to the successful accomplishment
of this he turned his life and his genius.
But he did not on that account desert the principles
which normally result in monasticism. That for which
mysticism stands the actual and direct knowledge of
God was the motive force of his whole life, and asceticism
was the immediate way which he saw would lead to it.
See Enc Brit., article " Monasticism," by the Rev. E. C. Butler,
1
.

O.S.B.
2OO
FROM THE BELFRY OF SAN GIOVANNI, GUBBIO
fate p. 200
 St. Francis of Assist
And so firm was his conviction for the need of it as a
preparation for the larger existence to come, that he
required it of his followers as strictly as he demanded it of
himself. That he exaggerated it, that he carried it in his
own case to extremes which he^ ultimately regretted, is
evidence of nothing more than the fervour of his enthusi-
asm and the fact that he was not born full-grown in the
wisdom of the Spirit. His story is the story of a whole-
hearted and heroic advance through one, and perhaps
more than one, of the stages that lie between humanity and
divinity; and while it is needful to recognize, it is un-
gracious to cavil at, the errors of him who was in one sense a
pioneer. And though he did not himself entirely escape the
besetting danger of asceticism, which is exaggeration, he
delivered it both for himself and for his followers from a
danger which was no less imminent. It is liable to a kind
of formalism which takes no account of the end to which it
should properly be directed, but demands the application
of the rule of abstinence as a thing desirable in itself.
From this St. Francis saved it by a conscious direction
of it as a means towards an end which he very definitely
had in view. He gave it for his own time a raison d'Stre^ he
used it with a purpose, and that reason and that purpose
were spiritual freedom.
And spiritual freedom is dependent on peace, though
such peace must needs be preceded by war. While the
different aspects of man battle together for the ascendance
there can be no question of conscious liberty: the spirit
is obscured while its
subjects revolt against its authority.
The peace which succeeds to such a struggle is the peace
in which the inferior aspect recognizes its inferiority, and
without resenting its subjection pays obedience to its
superior. In place of the continual claim of the body to
rule there is the undisputed regency of the spirit, and
those in whom this peace is established are centres of peace
201
 St. Prands of Assist
to around them. They are, as St. Francis said, truly
all
1
peace-makers, and it is by love of, and submission to, all
that highest in them that such peace is gained. And
is
it isthe realization of the necessity of gaining this peace at
the price of a period of active repression that lies at the
base of the doctrine of asceticism.
St. Francis held this idea clearly before him from the

beginning. Thus in his injunction to the earliest brethren

on the eve of their departure for the first attempt to preach
to the people, he placed before them the essence of the
monastic vows as his last counsel. By virtue of their
poverty they were to despise the world, their obedience was
to mean to them the renunciation of their own personal
will, and in chastity was the subjection of their bodies.
And it may well be that with such recommendations,
summed up and sealed by his parting admonition to them
to cast their thoughts on the Lord in the assurance that
they would thereby receive the spiritual nourishment they
required, St. Francis felt that they would be secured as
far as possible s gainst all the difficulties they might have
2
to face.
The need for physical control came to him among the
earliest of the definite views which afterwards shaped his
life. Before the crucial moment at San Damiano which
turned his energies in the direction of restoration, and
so before the enthusiastic journey to Foligno to procure
money with which to repair the church, the idea formed
itself in its essentials, if not in all its details, within his
mind. It came to him while he was praying, as a divine
admonition, and took the form of a command to despise the
things he had loved after the flesh. This was the condition
of the fulfilment of the divine will, and the beginning of a
revaluation by means of which the ordinary values should

1 a
Writings, p. 14, Admonition 15. Celano, i, 29.
202
 Francis of Ass hi
be reversed. It did not only require abstention from the
things which the body demanded, but the doing of what
was naturally repugnant to it, so that in no way might it be
in the ascendant, either as impelling towards its own ends
or as hindering the activities of the spirit.
With this, for him, new and vital
conception in his mind
St. Francis went out from the place of his prayer, and found
an opportunity
.
rr A
for putting
r it into immediate practice.
i r
r On1
his way to Assist he met a leper, from whom his natural
i i i i

repugnance to the disease caused him to turn away instinct-

ively. But remembering the new-found principle of doing
. violence to himself, he made the tremendous effort not only
of resisting his inclination to run away, but of getting down
from his horse, giving the leper some money, and finally
kissing his wounded and disfigured hands. The horror
with which such an action must have filled his naturally
fastidious nature can only have been equalled by the inun-?
dation of joy and strength that swept over him when it had
been accomplished. It was his first act of violent self-
control, his first proclamation of his real superiority over
the natural inclinations of his body, and it was rewarded
with the full force of the inevitable reaction. As such it
marks a definite stage in his inner life the commence-
ment of a path which he travelled unswervingly till the end
and so great was the impression that it made upon him
that when, many years afterwards, he wrote his will, he
mentioned it as the beginning of his life of revaluation. 1
It was followed by a period when he visited even the

hospital where the lepers were gathered in all their hideous-

ness, till a time came when he could see and serve them
even in the horrors of their disease without the feeling of
2
physical repulsion.
But besides forcing himself to do things which physically
1
Writings, p. 8 1.
*
Legend, n j Celano, i, 17; ii, 9. Bonaventure, i, 5.

203
 5>. Pranas of Assist
and in every way repelled him, St. Francis found the
necessity of denying their full liberty to his bodily demands.
Besides forcing himself to eat the unsavoury messes which
he collected from door to door, he refused ever wholly to
satisfy his appetite or quench his thirst, and the details of
his abstinence fill pages of his histories. He was in the
habit of insisting upon the difficulty of satisfying the
physical demands without yielding to the promptings of the
1
senses, and to be impelled, beyond the measure of the
strictest necessity, by any needs of the body was repugnant
to him. Even when he was invited to eat with the great
princes, of the world and of the Church, with whom his
mission brought him into contact, he would satisfy the
need for control by eating only a little of what was set
before him, and making a pretence of eating the rest. And
on the rare occasions when he came by appetizing food he
would mix ashes with it, so that he should not be in danger
of constraint by his body while satisfying its absolute needs.
He had, in fact, only one and that was for spiritual
desire,
freedom and high consequences. Similarly he would
Its
allow himself only the scantiest covering, whether asleep
or awake, and insisted on sleeping on the bare ground
whenever possible. And with this, his desire for absolute
rectitude, for freedom from any hint of hypocrisy, com-
pelled him to proclaim to all the world any deviation from
the most rigorous severity. A chicken eaten when he was
ill, a piece of fur sewn inside his robe to protect those parts
of his body where he suffered most acutely, seemed to him
equally to demand avowal ; and in the first case therefore
he made a brother drag him naked round Assisi while he
admitted what he had done, while in the second he insisted
on a piece of fur being also sewn on the outside of his robe. 2
It is sufficiently probable that he himself arrived, some
1
Bonaventure, v, I ; Celano, i, 51.
3
Legend, 22; Celano. i, 51, 52 ; Mirror, Ixi, Ixii j Bonaventure, vi, 2,

204
 St. Francis of Assist
considerable time before the end of his life, at a condition
in which his body was so completely under his control that
further self-denying exercises were unnecessary, and that
he might therefore well have ceased them; but again it
must be remembered that it was by his life and his actions
that he preached, and that he was on that account compelled
to some extent to continue as an example to others in a
course which was no longer necessary for himself. The
incident of his confession of having eaten chicken, men-
tioned above, appears to have occurred some five years
before his death, and a similar, occurrence took place four
Again, when he was at Rome on a visit to
1
years later.
Cardinal Hugolin, which took place about three years
before his death, he insisted on begging scraps from door
to door instead of eating what had been provided, and
when the Cardinal remonstrated with him he explained
that it was incumbent on him to be an example to his
brethren. His purpose was to teach by his deeds those
who were, or would be, in his Order, for it was as an
2
example that he had been given to them.
But despite his desire for the utmost simplicity in food
as in all other things, or rather in part just because of that
desire, he was unwilling to frame detailed rules as to what
the brethren might or might not eat. His final aim was for
them to be free from all bondage, and he gave countenance
therefore to strict legislation only in so far as it was neces-
sary to restrain what would otherwise become a stricter tie.
There is some apparent inconsistence between his unwill-
ingness to eat or allow his brethren to eat particularly
and his attitude
palatable food, as expressed in an episode
which occurred on the eve of his return from the Holy
1
Mirror, Ixii; Celano, ii, 131. This was a confession of having
eaten cakes cooked with lard during the Advent fast. Cf. Joergensen,
St. Fratifois, book iv, chap, ii, pp. 407 et seq.
3
Mirror, xxiii, Ixvii. Cf. Celano, ii, 73, 120, 173.
205
 St. Francis of Assist
Land. On meat was placed before him and
this occasion
his companions, and the question arose as to whether they
should eat it or not. St. Francis' conclusion was that they
should obey the precept in the Gospel and eat what was
set before them, regardless of any other rules and regula-
tions. There is little doubt that in the first place this
decision was in the nature of a protest against the excessive
details of the rules which had been enacted by St. Francis*
Vicars during his absence and had just come to his know-
ledge. Not only had they been acting contrary to his wishes
in applying to Rome for privileges, but had increased
the number and severity of the fasts which were incumbent
on the brethren. Their whole attitude had been one of
revolt against the simplicity of the Franciscan ideal, and
their new regulations as to fasting were typical of the
formalism of their general standpoint. In place of the
wise freedom that St. Francis had ordained a freedom
limited only by a consideration of what was necessary for
preserving the yet higher liberty of the spirit against the
bondage of the body they had begun to put the meticu-
lous regulations for the smallest details of life against which
1
his whole nature revolted. But besides being a reaction
against this tendency, it is possible that St. Francis*
decision was founded on a new and clearer realization of the
folly of regarding anything as finally unclean. Abstention
was to him a discipline aimed at a perfectly definite result,
but the Vicars had begun to mistake the means for the end,
and were therefore well on the way to losing sight of the
end altogether. It may well be that at this time, some five
or six years before his death, St. Francis recognized with a
new vividness the essential sanctity of all things, and the

right which he had gained by his battles and his abstinence

to make full use of them all in the work of his life. In his
1
See Joergensen, St. Francois, book iii, chap, vii, p. 309 ; Cuthbert,
Life, pp. 240-1.
206
 St. Francis of Assist
own case he may well have realized and entered into the
liberty of the children of God, and given evidence of such
an entry by accepting what was set before him without
demur. With the knowledge that he was no longer
impelled by his bodily desires all paths would be open to
him and all
things holy, for the one reason that he had
overcome their attraction. 1
But at no period of his life did the intensity of his desire
for self-conquest in general and the control of the body in
particular lead him into some of the extremes from which
asceticism has often suffered. He was quite clearly of the
opinion that the ordinary events of everyday life offered
ample opportunities for the exercise of physical control.
In the simplicity and even intentional unsavouriness of his
food; in his preference for sleeping on the bare ground or
the uncovered rock rather than on a bed; in the unwilling-
ness which he continually evinced to wear many clothes as a
protection against the biting winds of Umbria, he found
the normal means of physical subjection, and he only per-
mitted more violent methods when some particular insur-
rection had to be quelled. At one of the early Chapters,
in fact, he definitely put a stop to the use of the traditional

implements of asceticism. The first brethren, in their

enthusiasm to embrace every opportunity for control, erred
on the side of violence, and loaded themselves with coats of
mail worn next to their skin, belts and hoops of iron which
cut into their flesh and broke down their health, beside
1
This desire of St. Francis to avoid too detailed regulations and to
make itquite clear that he would not permit his Vicars to enaft them
either, resulted in an addition to the Primitive Rule to the effect that
the brethren should eat of all food that men can eat, when necessity
should arise (First Rule, chap, ix, Writings, p. 44). See also First Rule,
chap, iii (z*V., p. 36), where the brethren are allowed to eat of all foods
that are placed before them, according to the Gospel. This freedom re-
appeared in the Second Rule, chap, iii (Writings, p. 67). Cf, Uttk
flowers, chap, iv, where the same point is made.
 St. Francis of Assist
subjecting themselves to the perpetual irritation of hair-
shirts. But of this St. Francis would have none. He made
them collect all these evidences of a fantastic misconception
of his own idea of asceticism, and deposit them in a great
heap on the ground, forbidding the brethren from that
time onward to wear anything next their skin but the
1
ordinary tunic. The rigour and severity of coats of mail
and hoops of iron savoured, it may be, too much of lifeless
formalism, and were in danger of reducing the brethren
to a state in which the desirable interior attitude would be
impossible.
On these two points, in fact, St. Francis insisted in a
further incident. In the early days of the Order, when the
brethren were living in the hut at Rivo Torto on their
return from Rome, they were awakened in the middle of
the night by the lamentations and groans of one of their
number who cried out that he was dying of hunger. With-
out hesitation St. Francis gave him food, and with his fine
tact took some himself and caused all the others to do the
same, so that the brother should not feel ashamed of his
need. He took advantage of the opportunity to explain
to them generally that there could be no set rule of asceti-
cism, and that the details must vary according to the
capacities of each individual. To imitate the austerities of
another was to run a considerable danger, because they
were ever to bear in mind that each body must have what it
required to enable it to serve the spirit. Just as superfluity
prevented this, so did inordinate abstinence, and he
impressed on them the need for common sense and a
reasonable moderation in bodily denial by saying that
though he had eaten with them this once he would not
do so again. But it is recorded that on another occasion at
Rivo Torto, whether before or after that already mentioned

1
Mirror, xxvii ; Little Flowers, xviii. Cf. Celano, ii, 21-2.
208
 St. Francis of Assisi
does not appear, St. Francis took with him privately an old
brother who had fallen ill, and ate grapes with him, so that
he should not be ashamed of eating alone. 1
Mortification, then, was in itself, for St. Francis, no
evidence of sanctity. Even its extremes, which for the
rest rob asceticism of its value and reduce it to an ugly
and distorted formula for life, he considered possible for
sinners. The safeguard was that mortification of all kinds
should be accompanied by interior recollection of its pur-
pose, which was the subjection of the body to the spirit.
It was this interior recollection this faithfulness to God
of which the sinner was incapable, and distinguished the
devout ascetic from the formalist merely. It is the vital-
ization of asceticism, and the one excuse for its existence. 2
For the rest, St. Francis was compelled to realize at the
end of his life that in his own case he had been too severe
in the demands he had made on his body. A
conversation
which he had with one of the brethren after he had received
the Stigmata is reported by Celano, and brings out his
attitude at that time so well that it may be quoted in full.
On account of his many infirmities it became necessary to
try and ease him with such remedies as were available,
and he therefore asked the advice of one of his sons.
" '
What thinkest thou, dearest son/ he asked, ' of the
frequent murmuring of my conscience touching the care
of my body ? It fears lest I be over-indulgent to the body
in its sickness and lest I be eager to relieve it with delicacies

carefully sought out. Not that it can take anything with

pleasure now that it is worn by long infirmity and that all
incitement of taste has gone/ The son (recognizing that
the words of his answer were being given him by the Lord)
1
Mirror, xxvii, xxviii; Celano, ii, 22, 176; Bonaventure, v, 7. The
same teaching as to not overtaxing the body is contained in the Mirror,
xcvii, and Celano, ii, 129.
2
Celano, 1
ii, 34.
209 o
 St. Francis of Assisi
'
made heedful reply to the father saying: Tell me, .

father, if thou deignest to do so, with what diligence thy

'

body, while it could, obeyed thy behests ? 'I bear it

*

witness, my son,' answered Sk Francis, that it has been

obedient in all things and has spared itself in nothing, but
has (as it were) rushed headlong to obey all commands.
It has shirked no toil, has refused no discomfort, if only
it
might do as it was bid. Herein have I and it been in
perfect agreement, that we should serve Christ the Lord '
without any reluctance.' And the brother said: Where,
then, father, is thy liberality ? where thy compassion and
thine eminent discretion ? Is it a worthy rewarding of
faithful friends to accept a kindness gladly, and then in the
time of his need not to requite the giver's merit ? How
couldst thou have served Christ thy Lord all this time
without the help of the body ? Has it not, as thou thyself
allowest, exposed itself to every danger, for the sake of this
' * '

very thing ? I confess, my son,' said the father, that

'
this is most true.' Then said the son: Is it reasonable
that thou shouldest be wanting in such great need to so
faithful a friend who has for thy sake exposed himself
and what is his even unto death ? Be it far from thee,
father, stay and staff of the afflicted: be this sin against
'
the Lord far from thee.' Blessed be thou, also, my son,'
he answered, * who hast wisely ministered such salutary
remedies to my scruples.' And he began joyfully to
*
address his body thus Rejoice, brother body, and forgive
:

me, for behold now I gladly fulfil thy desires, and gladly
"
hasten to attend to thy complaints.' x This somewhat
tardy gratitude to his body is sufficient evidence of a recog-
nition due perhaps in part to the enlightenment he had
received at the time of the Stigmata that he had over-
stepped the bounds of prudence in his desire to be a perfect

1
Celano, ii, 210, 211.
2IO
 St. Francis of Assisi
example of self-control. Like most enthusiasts he had
been able to see the need of discretion for his followers, but
in his own case had been unable to obey its dictates.
But as a matter of fact he had been haunted before by the
fear that he was being carried too far in his warfare. When
he was in prayer at the hermitage of Sartiano the idea came
to him that perhaps he was too unrelenting in his persecu-
tion, with the additional thought that extremes of penance
might even amount to sin. At the moment he repelled the
suggestion, characteristically regarding it as a temptation
of the devil, and proceeded to discipline his body even more
1
acutely than before. But the facl: that the idea occurred to
him at all suggests that he had interior qualms about the
complete Tightness of his behaviour, as the facl: of his
paying no attention to it evidences the force of his will.
But it was not until some five or six years later, when he had
acquired a wider experience and a greater knowledge of the
ways of the spirit, that he was enabled clearly to realize that
even in his own case his whole-heartedness had carried him
too far.
It is nevertheless a certain moderation of bodily ill-usage
in the interests of the Francis' asceti-
spirit that raises St.
cism above the level of that of some of his fellow ascetics.
He did not fall into the extreme of regarding the actual
body as irretrievably bad, though he had no doubt as to the
danger of its impulsions. In its place as servant he knew
that it was
holy, and, perhaps contrary to expectation,
realized that as the dwelling-place of the spirit it had not
only its excuse, but its use. This is the :other side of his
continual abuse of it, and the proof that such abuse had its
source in clearness of sight rather than in a blind and
traditional prejudice. In his instructions to the brethren
for their
journeys he required them always to behave with
1
Bonaventure, v, 4; Celano, ii, 116.
211
 Sf. Francis of Assist
the same quietude and humility that they would maintain
if
they were in a hermitage or a cell, and reminded them
that in their body they had a cell that was ever with them.
The soul, he told them, was the hermit who could remain
in the cell of their brother the body, and pray to God and
meditate on Him therein. The ordering and submission
of this living cell were, however, necessary to the soul's
peace: it was that into which they must be able to retire
in the certainty that they would not find it at war with its
inhabitant, and unless this were attained, the habitation of a
1
cell made with hands could profit them or nothing.
little
But at the bottom of St. Francis* abuse of that for which
he loved to show a certain contempt by speaking of it as his
Brother Ass, was the feeling that it stood for something
wider and more far-reaching than the actual physical \

vehicle. It was unquestionably for him the symbol of all

J
the desires and demands which emanated from the lower
self. As such it suffered at his hands, as it has suffered at
the hands of many others, from some of the violence and
even ferocity that was directed against tendencies and
inclinations which it was his immediate purpose to anni-
hilate. It is far from improbable that he did not always

keep clear in his mind the distinction between the actual

body and that for which it stood, and that it was therefore
substituted in more cases than one for the whole of what
is termed in the
language of theology the natural man.
The fact of its so symbolizing the lower self accounts for the
apparently disproportionate severity of some of his pro-
nouncements and certain of his actions with regard to it,
and renders intelligible statements which would otherwise
be devoid of meaning. It is, for instance, impossible to
conceive anyone of St. Francis' penetration and insight
into the ways of the spirit making the statement that he
who holds captive the body and guards himself from it is
1
Mirror, Ixv.
212
 St. Francis of Assisi
secure from any other enemy, visible or invisible, 1 if the
body be taken to refer to the physical vehicle only. It
would be an obvious misstatement, and would leave out of
account sins against which St. Francis was himself par-
ticularly vehement. Hatred, envy, resentment ten-
dencies of this kind cannot on any argument be held to
attach especially to the body in the strict sense, and yet
they are of a gravity at least equal to, if not greater than,
that of any bodily misdeed. In the same Admonition
St. Francis speaks of those who commit sin or suffer wrong

blaming their enemy or their neighbour, and points out

that this is an error, for the reason that each one has his
enemy in his power to wit, the body by which he sins.
Now if the body by which he sins mean the actual body
alone, the statement is obviously incorrect, since the
wrongs that may be committed or suffered without. the
body being concerned are too evident to mention. But
if the
body in this sense mean the lower self, that state-
ment is not only literally correct, but remarkably pene-
trating. A man can only be wronged be permitting
himself to allow that the wrong affects him, and to allow
this is to admit that he is in some degree separated from
the source from which the wrong comes. The capacity
to be hurt varies with the measure in which separation
exists and is insisted upon, and it is only when the personal
self is no longer regarded as standing over against all other
selves that immunity is reached. On the assumption that
the only sin is separateness and that which conduces to
and flows from it, the body by which a man sins refers
equally clearly to the lower self. It is therefore literally
true that if a man hold captive the lower self with all its
tendencies to division, no other enemy visible or invisible
can do him harm or cause him to sin.

1
Writings, p. 12, Admonition 10.

213
 Sf. Francis of Assist
The same conception of the body as symbolizing the
whole of the inclinations of the lower self is brought out in
others of the Admonitions as well as in the early bio-
graphies. Speaking of the way in which a man may know
if he have the
spirit of God which is equivalent to saying
that he is active in his higher self St. Francis says that the
test is that if the Lord work some good through him, his

body which is ever at variance with

all that is
good is

not therefore puffed up. 1 The very fact that he considered

the body as being the antithesis of all that is good is in
itself sufficient to point to his having regarded it as equi-
valent to the lower self; and the impossibility of imagining
the actual body as being affected by any good deed removes
it
beyond doubt. It is precisely the separated self that
congratulates itself on having itself brought about the good
rather than some other person, regardless of the fact that
by virtue of its separateness it is ipsofafto incapable of good.
But he who has realized his higher self in whom the
spirit of God is active is
by the very fact past the danger
of appropriation, and knows that the source of all good is
universal. To be puffed up, in St. Francis* words, by any
good that may be done through him is therefore as im-
possible for him as it is inevitable for one who still regards
himself as separated. Similarly in his explanation of the
"
beatitude, Blessed are the poor in spirit," St. Francis
speaks of those who are troubled because of a single word
which seems to be hurtful to their bodies or because of
something being taken from them, as being by no means
2
poor in spirit. The idea of the actual body being hurt
by a word carries no meaning with it, but the conception is
strikingly applicable to the lower self. It is just that with
its indrawing, self-centred tendencies that is hurt by a word

more easily than by anything else; it is wounded in its most

1
Writings, p. 13, Admonition 12.
2
Ibid., p. 14, Admonition 14.
214
 St. Francis of Assist
vulnerable part precisely because of the separateness on
which it depends for existence. Its own rights are the
charter of its false liberty, and to assail these rights by word
or deed is to arouse the most acute resentment. It is also
to the propriety the desire for exclusive ownership
that is instinctive with the lower self that St. Francis is
evidently referring when he couples the possibility of
people being hurt by something being taken from them
with their bodies being hurt by a word. It is the lower
self which feels the attack upon its essence when it is

deprived of something which it considered its own, as when

it is hurt
by some unkindness or severity of word.
Arid so also in the passage in which St. Francis is rebuk-
ing those who take praise to themselves, it is the flesh
which stands for that which is so inclined. He speaks of it
"
as man's greatest foe. It knows not how to recollect any-

thing so as to grieve over it, nor to foresee anything so as to

fear it. Its study is, to use up the present. And, what is
worse, it claims for itself, and transfers to its own glory
what has been given not to it, but to the soul. It gathers
from without praise for its virtues, applause for its watch-
ings and prayers. It leaves the soul nothing, and seeks
l
payment even for its tears." This clearly refers to the
appropriative instinct of the lower self, usurping the place
of the higher.
a result of this tendency to confound the body and
It is
that forwhich it stood, that St. Francis on certain occasions
caused it to share in the contumely he felt for the latter.
Shortly before the reception of the Stigmata he went apart
from the companions with whom he was travelling, and
remained in a deserted church to pass the night in prayer.
While so occupied he was assailed by fears and temptations
by hordes of devils, as he put it whereat, making the
1
Celano, ii, 134.
 St. Francis of Assist
sign of the Cross, he invited them to do to his body what-
ever they might be allowed to do, inasmuch as, having no
greater enemy than the body, they would thereby revenge
him of his adversary instead of his having to do so himself. 1
In this case the body seems to have stood both for itself
and the lower self; the symbol and the thing symbolized
were regarded as one; and St. Francis laid himself open to
the attacks in the knowledge that their only power was over
that which he despised, and that his higher part, liis
spiritual self, was secure from all danger. His defence in
this case was not dependent on his own power, but rested
on the complete and inherent immunity of the divine spirit
with which he felt himself already in some sense united.
According to the measure in which he was made one there-
with the result of any trial he might undergo could only
be for good.
But while this security against the more subtle kind of
assault was gained comparatively late in life, when his
spiritual power may unhesitatingly be regardedas approach-
ing its zenith, St. Francis accepted at all times unsought
physical hardships as gratuitous aids in the war he had
undertaken for the subjection of his body. He did not
only receive them without resentment with the rather
negative calmness of resignation but hailed them with
genuine joy. Under his revaluation in the interests of the
spirit the desirability of any incident increased in propor-
tion to the measure in which it was physically difficult, and
decreased in proportion to the bodily ease and comfort it
afforded. Early in his new life, when he was filled with the
exaltation of his experience before the Crucifix of San
Damiano, he left the world for a while to wander on the
slopes of Monte Subasio. There he was attacked by a
band of robbers, to whose questions he would vouchsafe no
1
Celano, ii, 122; Mirror, lix; Little Flowers, The First Considera-
tion of the Most Holy Stigmata.
 St. Francis of Assisi
other answer than that he was the herald of the great king.
Incensed by his assurance they incontinently threw him
into a drift of snow and left him to extract himself as best
he could. With his new-found conception of the worth of
things such an experience was to St. Francis an occasion for
unrestrained delight. Exhilarated by great joy, as his
biographer says, he got out of the snowdrift, and was so
genuinely grateful for an opportunity of controlling his
body by the force that was in1 him, that he made the trees
ring with the praises of God.
This glad acceptance of unsought suffering, physical or
mental which is the side of asceticism that is, so to speak,
automatic remained with St. Francis during all his life.
He preached it to Brother Leo in his description of their
imaginary ill usage at the hands of the doorkeeper of Santa
Maria degli Angeli, assuring him that perfect joy lay
precisely in such acceptance; 2 he laid stress on it in the
picture which he drew of himself being cast out of the
3
Chapter as unworthy to preach to the brethren; he
pointed out that adversity was a test of the degree of
interior patience that had been reached, and that it could
not be properly gauged while there was complete content-
ment. 4 In the First Rule he required the brethren not to
show resentment when they were taken ill, or to ask too
eagerly for remedies, on the ground, it would appear, that
in so doing they would be neglecting an opportunity for

bodily discipline, and loving their body more than their

soul. They were, on the contrary, to give thanks to God
for all things, and accept their sickness or their health as

equally manifestations of the divine will, in the assurance

that that will erred in no way but sent physical suffering as
1
Celano, i, 16; Bonaventure, ii, 5.
2
Little Flowers, viii.
3
Mirror, Ixiv.
4
Writings, p. 14, Admonition 13.
 Sf. Francis of Assist
a purgation and a discipline. 1 In his own case, St. Francis
was faithful to the spirit of these recommendations. In the
increased complications of his illness after the Stigmata,
when his sister Pain scarcely left him for a moment, the
brother who was attending him was so hurt by his suffering
that he implored him to pray for some diminution of it.
" "
But hearing this," St. Bonaventure remarks, the holy
'
man groaned, and cried out, saying: Did I not know the
simple purity that is in thee, I would from henceforth have
shunned thy company, for that thou hast dared to deem the
"
divine counsels concerning me meet for blame.' And
throwing himself on the ground he kissed it, and cried:
"
I give Thee thanks, O
Lord God, for all these my pains,
and I beseech Thee, my Lord, that, if it please Thee, Thou
wilt add unto them an hundredfold ; for this will be most
acceptable unto me if laying sorrow upon me Thou dost not
of Thy holy will is unto me an
spare, since the fulfilling
2
overflowing solace." For the rest, St. Francis' unwilling-
ness to let pass by any occasion for subduing the clamours
of his body, by seeking help from doctors, is almost pro-
verbial. It was an immense labour to induce him to take
the smallest remedy, and took all the powers of his friends'
persuasion to get him to allow himself to be nursed for any
3
of his numerous infirmities.
It remains to consider St. Francis' view of chastity in the
literal sense, as one branch of the general scheme of bodily

subjugation. It will not be difficult of comprehension if it

be remembered that on this side of his attempt his whole
purpose was to avoid being impelled by his body to any
action. There is no kind of evidence that he regarded any
of the actions against which his asceticism was directed as
1
First Rule, chap, x (Writings^ p. 44). Cf. Mirror, xlii ; Celano, ii,
175. Cf. Celano, 11,69, as to the negleft of opportunity when pressed
by2 need. 3
JJonaventure, xiv, 2. See, for example, Mirror', x.qi^
a r8
 St. Francis of Assist
bad in themselves, but there every evidence that he
is

struggled fiercely against allowing any of the desires which

he considered as lower, to drive him to their satisfaction*
Thus he does not appear to have gone, as in their enthusi-
asm some ascetics have done, to the extreme of regarding
women as inherently or necessarily bad, but he made no
secret of his feeling that they constituted a danger for men
aiming at complete self-control. If the realization of the
Kingdom of Heaven be a matter of attention and desire,
the direction of these forces to any other thing without at
least some very real capacity to transmute that thing by
dedication of intention can only conduce to failure. And
the more any particular object is liable to engross the
attention and attract the desire to itself for its own sake,
the more must the seeker after the Kingdom be wary in his
dealings with it. And this is conspicuously the case with
the question of the desire of sex. For a man with the
naturally passionate temperament of St. Francis, in whose
veins ran the ardent blood of mid-Italy and Provence, the
desire for expression must have been almost overpowering.
His whole witnesses to the intensity of his nature, and
life
to the intensity also of his efforts to overcome it.
There were only two women with whom his relations
were in any way intimate. His biographers have little to
say of the Lady Jacqueline of Settesoli, but it is known that
he met her on a visit to Rome in 1212. On later visits the
friendship ripened into intimacy, and it is suggested that
St. Francis visited her when he was at Rome for the con-
firmation of his Second Rule.
1
The admiration which he
felt for her is shown by his desire for her to be
present
during his last days, and to bring him clothes and a certain
sweet she had made with her own hands. 2 His regard
1
Joergensen, St. Franfois, book iii, chap, ii, p. 224, and chap, xiii,
P. 385.
a
Mirror, cxii, and see Cuthbert, Life, p. 383, note 2,
 St. Francis of Assisi
for her, however, seems to have been of a purely platonic
nature, for on her arrival at Assisi he expressly relaxed
in her favour the rule for the exclusion of women from
Santa Maria degli Angeli, and allowed her to tend him
during his last illness. His view of her is perhaps ex-
pressed more
" plainly than elsewhere
"
in the fact that he
called her Brother Jacqueline a name which suggests
vividly the relation of mutual understanding and good-
1
fellowship which existed between them.
With St. Clare, the other of the only two women whom
he said he would be able to recognize if he looked at them, 2
the circumstances were different. Having begun by visit-
ing her and her companions frequently after their installa-
tion at San Damiano, he gradually allowed longer periods
to elapse between his visits, until finally he refrained from
going there at all. So sternly, in fact, did he deny himself
the pleasure of seeing her that his companions remonstrated
with him for what seemed to them a want of kindliness.
His reply puts beyond a doubt his reasons for his conduct.
He explained that it was not from lack of affection that he
had ceased his visits, and hinted that it was rather because
his affection was too vivid and the personal element was in
danger of entering too greatly into the question. He was
giving them an example of what they should do, and his
point was that no one should offer to visit them of his own
accord, but that the most reluctant of them should be
appointed to do so. His own persistent and personal
desire to see St. Clare was for him sufficient to disqualify
him for the purpose, and he confined himself to watching
over the spiritual welfare of her and her companions as
well as he could from a distance. 3 In this desire to exclude
1
See, as to the authenticity of this visit, Ofuscu/es ae Critique His-
torique, fasc. xv ; Examen Critique des Recits concernant la visite de Jacqe-
line de Settesoli a St. Frank's, by P. Sabatier.
2 3
Celano, ii, 112. Ibid., ii, 204, 205.
22O
 St. Francis of Assist
all personal feeling from the relations between the brothers
at Santa Maria degli Arigeli and the sisters at San Damiano,
St. Francis was unwavering. He sternly rebuked a brother
who had two daughters among the followers of St. Clare
and was anxious to act as messenger between them and
St. Francis, sending in his place a brother who so disliked

going that he at first flatly refused to do so. And when

he once acceded to the importunities of his Vicar and
consented to preach at San Damiano, he took the oppor-
tunity to place beyond all question the entirely impersonal
nature of his visit. When he had arrived and the sisters
were gathered round waiting for him to begin, he ordered
ashes to be brought, and with them made a circle round
him on the ground and covered his head. Finally, by way
of sermon, he repeated the fifty-first psalm that solemn
declaration of self-abasement and passionate appeal for
forgiveness and straightway left the convent without
another word. 1 His action signified what he so ardently
desired the death of his own passions, with the lifeless
ashes of which he symbolically surrounded and covered
himself and in his choice of the psalm of self-accusation
it is not fantastic to see a confession of what he
regarded as
the personal motives which had played their part in induc-
"
ing him to come. For
acknowledge my transgressions,
I
and my sin is ever before me "
as he repeated these words
:

may not St. Francis, with his peculiar sensibility and prone-
ness to self-condemnation, have felt the application which
they bore to his own position ?

To attribute to him an affection for St. Clare which was

not only that of her spiritual father, is in no way to derogate
from his sanctity. It is rather to bring him within the
ranks of those who felt and suffered with their fellow men,
and not only made war upon their personal desire, but
1
Celano, ii, 206, 207.
221
 Sf. Francis of Assist
conquered it heroically. It is the view of him as passion-
lessand without desire that removes him from kinship with
humanity, and sacrifices to a mistaken desire for edification
the highest and most inspiring probability.
Vowed, therefore, as he was to chastity, it is difficult to
see what other course St. Francis could have taken than
that of resolutely denying himself any intimacy with St.
Clare. The Fioretti relate that on one occasion, at the
suggestion of the brethren, he granted her wish to eat
with him, and that when they were together at Santa Maria
1
degli Angeli, they enjoyed amazing spiritual converse;
and towards the end of his life he stayed some little time
2
at San Damiano. when he was very ill; but for the rest he
allowed himself to see her practically not at all.
And apart from St. Clare, he was in general impressed
more by the likelihood of women arousing in himself and
his brethren the desires they had determined to quell, than
of their contributing in any especial way towards spiritual
progress. He included among the later additions to the
Primitive Rule a warning to the brethren against the
company of women, on just this ground, and ordained that
any brother committing fornication should be expelled
from the Order. 3 His own susceptibility no doubt in-
creased his severity. The fight for complete control .was
a long and arduous one with him and needed constant
vigilance, and the biographies recount a striking example
of the dramatic way in which he battled with his desire.
While he was at the hermitage of. Sartiano, troubled by
doubts as to whether he were not carrying his asceticism
to too great an extreme, he was attacked (as his biographer

1
Little Flowers, xv. The historicity of this episode is now denied.
See, e.g., The Life of St. Clare, by Thomas of Celano (translated by Fr.
Paschal Robinson), p. 127.
9
Mirror, c.
3
First Rule, chaps, xii, xiii (Writings, pp. 46, 47).
222
 St. Francis of Assist
puts it) by a most grievous temptation of lust. In vain he
scourged himself with the cord of his tunic, the ideas
would not leave him. Seeing that something decisive was
necessary he left his cell and went out naked into the snow
that was deep on the ground. This he collected into seven
large heaps, and offered them to himself as representing
his wife and his children and his servants. The plan
succeeded, but the need for it is sufficient proof of the
force and insistence of the desires which he finally
succeeded in overcoming. 1
The presence of women must, then, have been a per-
petual difficulty for him. But there is another side to his
view of them, beside his fear of their effect on him. With
his vivid imagination and naturally sacramental attitude he
saw them as representing what was to him the highest of all
the spouse of Christ. As the soul is figured in the Song
of Songs as the Beloved searching for her Lover, so St.
Francis seems to have seen all women as possible repre-
sentations of the mystic bride of the Eternal Lover. As
such they were sacrosanct infinitely pure and immeasur-
ably above the contamination of earthly lust. To look upon
them with desire would be, for a fervent imagination
kindled with a passion of love for Christ, to commit an
"
unpardonable theft. " Who should not fear to look upon
a bride of Christ ? he asked his brethren, when they
enquired why he did not look at some women who had
helped him in his need, and so expressed one of the funda-
mental ideas which regulated his treatment of them. In
his parable of thetwo messengers sent by the king to his
wife, of whom
one brought back the bare answer and the
other descanted also on her beauty and was forthwith dis-
missed by his master, St. Francis was inculcating the same
high reverence for women as dedicated to a divine Lover.2
1
Celano, ii, 116, 117; Bonaventure, v, 4.
2
Celano, ii, 114; Mirror^ Ixxxvi.
223
 Sf. Francis of Assisi
It was the positive side of his belief in the necessity for
chastity, as his fear of their arousing personal desire was
the negative side, and the one was the saving and vitalizing
complement of the other.

224
 Chapter Eleven
ITH CHASTITY ENDS THE CONSIDER-
of the suppression of the lower self and its
lation

[tendencies, which is one side of the method

rhich mysticism employs for the attainment of
its
purpose. It is, however, admittedly the negative side,
and as such needs for its completion an attitude which
must be direct and positive. If the methods of mysticism
were wholly negative aimed at and concerned with anni-
hilation solely they would be insufficient as a direction for
life
simply because destruction perse is incapable of achiev-
ing anything. But such a suppression is merely the pre-
paration for the building which is to replace what has been
destroyed. Its purpose is therefore that which follows it,
.

and both it and its successor depend on the motive with

which it has been undertaken. The motive supplies the
positive attitude which is necessary, and in the case of
mysticism both the one and the other are represented by the
love which urges the mystic to make war on his lower self
and supports him during his arduous campaign. Herein is
his strength, herein is his defence, and herein the assurance
of victory.
The love which animates the mystic is, in its clearest
form, a vivid and intense love of God entering into every
detail of his life. It is regarded as being in some sense

implanted in every man a view which is part and parcel

of the belief that man is in his essence divine and the
purpose of the mystic is so to nourish it with daily care that
it
may eventually be brought to fruition. He specializes,
as it were, in this one particular direction, and his desire is
225 p
 St. Francis of Assisi
to be actuated by it and it alone in all his deeds. The
spirit which inhabits him is by his hypothesis of a piece
with the universal spirit of God: in consciousness in the
spirit therefore will be consciousness of God. And just as
he moves towards universality at the instigation of the
spirit, so will he move towards that which is one with, and a
condition of, deity. It is the essential oneness of nature
between his spirit and God which provides him with the
seed of what he has to perfect, and it is in proportion to his
obedience to the dictates of the spirit in proportion to -his
identification of himself therewith that that oneness will
be brought within the sphere of his consciousness. The
love of man for God is the complement of the love of God
for man the desire of man for God is the claim of the
:

spirit to rejoin its source, to flow out in all directions un-

restrained by the barriers of self-hood and know again in
conscious fact the spirit that permeates the universes. The
mystic's belief is that between man's spirit and the spirit of
God there is a continual interaction, that their love is a
mutual love, and their attraction a mutual attraction the :

Lover calls to the Beloved at all times and in every place

until they are fully and without hindrance one.
In his endeavour to identify himself with the spirit,
with the higher part rather than the lower, the mystic is
thus aiming at an identification with what is universal.
He is impelled thereto by the spirit itself, and chooses love
as the positive means by which this identification is to be
effected. Love, in the sense in which he employs the term,
must therefore have in it something of the universal, some-
thing which makes against separateness in any and all of
its aspects. Its characteristic in chief is that it is a re-

placing of the natural claim of the lower part to draw

on every possible occasion, by an impulse to
into itself
give. Instead of the self being the centre of a man's
cosmos to which all things are attracted, that self as a.
226
 St. Francis of Assist
centre of attraction is annihilated, and in its place arises a
centre from which all the desires flow outwards. The love
which makes for universality thus depends on, and also in
turn causes, a change in the direction of the currents of
desire; they become centrifugal instead of centripetal,
since that which they seek is no longer within the individual
alone, but spread throughout the universe.
Love is thus the universal solvent. In its course out-
ward it breaks down all the barriers that have been erected

between one self and another it is the arch-enemy of self-

:

hood. It is also as a loosener of bonds the one ulti-

mate guarantee of freedom from restriction. It is a love
which partakes of the nature of adoration, of that passionate
and overpowering desire for the good of that which is
adored, which burns up in the intensity of its fire every
shred of self-seeking. Such a love is compact of self-
forgetfulness, instinct with self-sacrifice, and it is the
heritage with which man is enriched. The immediate
purpose of the mystic is so to free it from the bondage of
the self-hood which prevents its full activity, that it may be
manifested in his own life without veil or hindrance.
This complementary love of man for God is thus due
to the spirit that is in him moving him towards its proper
sphere of the universal, and its full manifestation is con-
ditional on man endeavouring in every way to identify
himself with the spirit. This manifestation will occur in
direct proportion to the measure in which the spirit is
permitted to be the final arbiter. But the God Whom the
mystic loves is not remote in some distant heaven. He is
everywhere, and the process of identification is an arduous
one. It is by loving ardently arid without thought of return
that the mystic works; by taking up and encouraging, so
to speak, every instigation to love which the offers
spirit
him, until the time comes when he stands aside entirely
and the current of love .flows through him unhindered,
227
 Si. Francis of Assisi
The omnipresence of the object of his love provides the
mystic with opportunities for its exercise at all moments of
his life and in every place in which he may find himself.
He is not open to the accusation of confining his interests
and directing some end apart from every
his desire to
aspect of the world in which he lives, for that world is on
his own postulate swathed in, and interpenetrated by, deity,
and it is to the divinity that underlies it that his love is
offered. His is definitely the purpose of penetrating
through the apparent to the Real, of effecting this penetra-
tion by the love which he manifests for the Real, and having
done so, to live in the love which is part and parcel of the
Real which he has thus found. In other words his aim is
the Universal, and love is the means thereto precisely
because of its
universalizing action. And since the love
which he feels is part of the universal heritage of the spirit,
as he increases it by exercise he increases the realization
of the spirit in his own consciousness. The hypothesis,
therefore, is the love of God for man of the spirit that is
free and universal for the spirit that is labouring under the
limitations of humanity; the desideratum is the love of
man for God the freeing of that spirit from its bondage
and its entry into human consciousness, bringing with it all ,

its treasure of love; the means is the love of man for man
as the dwelling-place
^J J.
of God the spirit
L
of man piercing
JL C*

through the walls of separation and hailing as its essential

kin the spirit in his fellows.
For to the mystic, and perhaps in particular to the
Christian mystic, the knowledge of his own inherent
divinity, the conviction that God dwells within him in the
Kingdom that is within^ gives the certainty that He is no
less immanent in everyone who comes into the world,
however much that Presence be obscured and overlaid.
It is the invariable postulate despite all appearances to the

contrary, and whatever the

accretions of selfishness and
228
 St. Francis of Assisi
materiality arid degradation that hinder its manifeolation.
The Incarnation is for him a literal and continuing fact, not
relegated to the mists of history, but ever present and over-
poweringly real to-day and every day. It is, in fact, the one
unfailing reality which is his continual inspiration and the
foundation of all his hope the earnest of the fuller realiza-
tion that comes with the entry of That which is incarnated
into the consciousness.
Any suggestion, therefore, of loving God apart from the
man in whom He dwells is impracticable. The love of the
one necessitates the love of the other, since they are bound
together and are one in essence if not in realization. To
love God is to love Him in all His aspects.
It may be questioned whether the divine and universal
love which it is one of the aims of the mystic to manifest is
of the same nature as the emotion which ordinarily goes by
that name in the world. Granted even a tremendous
increase in its intensity, it is not clear that the love of man
for man becomes the same thing as the divine and spiritual
love : it is not clear that the difference is only one of degree,
and not, in some sense, of kind. It is, unquestionably,
undesirable to insist on more distinctions than are necessary
in dealing with an already sufficiently complicated subject,
but in the present case a very general confusion exists owing
to the use of the same word to signify two things between
which there appear to be real differences. The line which
divides the one from the other may appear in some respects
to be tainted with artificiality, but if it make for lucidity on
a matter of more than common importance, it will be worth
while to inquire shortly in what these differences consist.
In the first place what may be called for the sake of
convenience human love, tends to fall short precisely in
respect of a quality which is an essential part of the love
which is spiritual. It is seldom an unmingled outgiving
a pure stream of adoration flowing out to its object
229
 St. Francis of Assist
unconcerned with anything that may return, even if that
return be not in some sense a consideration for the original
love. In how many cases does the lover wholly forget
himself in his concentration on the other's good, and for
how long does such complete self-forgetfulness continue
without demanding even a return of love in the cases
where at one time it existed ? For the majority the reci-
procity of love is a condition of its continuance, whether it
be between man and woman or parent and child: there
must, they would say, be a taking in for what they give out.
Their love, that is, is so far from being disinterested that it
is
dependent on a return, however subtly that return be
disguised, or however idealized it be.
Again, this lesser love is marked, as often as not, by an
unmistakable degree of exclusiveness. It tends to be a
love for one rather than for another, as though some par-
ticular human being were the meet recipient of love, and
had a right to a monopoly of it all. It labours, in fact, in a
vast number of cases under a kind of limitation which
purposely excludes from its scope any but a chosen few,
and concentrates its attention on them to the manifest
detriment of the remainder. By so doing it becomes not a
final solvent, a breaker-down of barriers, but in effect a
power which binds together the chosen few and separates
them off from all the rest of the world. The tendency is
perhaps chiefly evident in the love of a man for his country,
but it exists largely in less expected spheres, such as the
love of a mother for her child. And its action is, so far,
antithetical to that of the love which is all-comprehending
and universal. The unexpressed supposition at the root of
such a limitation would seem to be that the source from
which such love flows is exhaustible, so that in squandering
it
among the world at large there is a danger of famine,
whereas the love of the spirit is by the hypothesis inex-
haustible by its very nature. It grows with spending, and
230
 St. Francis of Assist
when it has embracedthe universes is fuller, richer, and
all
more essentially active than in its period of repression.
This is the wideness of spiritual love, by which it is im-
possible for it to entertain any idea of exclusion, any con-
ception of loving one to the barring out of another.
Yet it is not that it loves a greater number than the
human love, but that it loves them differently. The uni-
versality which is its essence cannot be reached by extend-
ing the human love until it embraces the whole world, any
more than infinity can be reached by continually adding
one unit to another. It is of a nature which, when it is
experienced, opens the doors to infinity indeed, for to be
able to love anyone with the love of the spirit is to love the
whole world with that same love. Because it flows from
the spirit, its knowledge depends on consciousness in the
spirit, and to be conscious in the spirit is to be able to
recognize the same spirit everywhere and at all times, and
send out to it a stream of love which is all wide and all pure.
For the spirit is everywhere and always, and love rays out
from it as spontaneously as light from the sun. Love is,
in fact, the only currency which the spirit recognizes, which
it has never and can never
repudiate. To attempt, there-
fore, to include all the world within the embrace of human
love is a project which is fated to failure. For spiritual
love, founded as it is on a consciousness and understanding
of the essence of all things is, so to speak, continually and
automatically exercised it springs from the font of things
; ;

but the love of man for man, love he never so strongly,

has no such foundation of ultimate comprehension but is
forced by its own limitations to deal with appearances.
Finally, human love differs from spiritual by its depend-
ence on a certain sympathy with the object loved. It is
subject to preferences, picking and choosing on a basis of
harmony which is largely concerned with externals. Agree-
ment on a thousand and one matters of varying importance
231
 St. Francis of Assisi
opinions, beliefs, traditions, ambitions, tastes a certain
reciprocal fulfilment: these things are conditions prece-
dent to its exercise and enter into its enjoyment. With the
love of the spirit it must necessarily be otherwise. It acts,
as has been said, automatically, and extends as naturally
towards one who on the human basis of judgment is
pro-
foundly unsympathetic as to a most harmonious friend; it
is, in a word, a love which loves anyone whatever simply
because he is. However distasteful his whole personality,
the spirit must recognize the spirit within him, must
realize that he is as essentially divine as the greatest of the
saints, and, just because this is intimately known, because
it is
part of the inmost consciousness and not merely an
intellectual proposition on its outskirts, must recognize
him for what he is in spite of the veils of his personality.
And such recognition must be simultaneous with the
outflow of love, irrespective and regardless of all else.
Love it is said springs from understanding, and the
understanding of the spirit is fundamental. It neither
represents the condition of non-resentment nor has it
anything in common with the frigid attitude which allows
the possibility of good in others in spite of its disagree-
ment with them. It is not passive, but vigorously active;
not negative, but positive; it does not tolerate, but
acclaims ; it does not permit, but embraces. It is not for-
giveness, but love.
It is possible that the whole distinction may be objected
to on the ground that love is love all the worlds over, and
that as it will be in heaven so it is, as a foretaste thereof,
on earth. And, while it is impossible to concede this, there
does not seem any room for doubt that what has been called
human love is beyond comparison the best preparation for
the attainment of spiritual love. It is important to realize
that notwithstanding the deeply rooted differences that
have been noticed human love partakes, in certain of
232
 St. Francis of Assist
its
aspects, of the characteristic of that which is di-
vine.
The assumption is that consciousness in the spiritual part
is
gained at the price of self-forgetfulness, and in so far as
human love results in such self-forgetfulness, it leads its
possessor nearer to spiritual consciousness and nearer,
accordingly, to the possibility of experiencing spiritual and
universal love. To the extent to which human love is an
outgiving only, without any ulterior thought, to that extent
it
partakes of the nature of spiritual love, and by its solvent
action breaks down the walls of the self-hood and prepares
the way to the consciousness of the spirit. Further, in so
far as it produces an interest in and an affection for some-

thing outside the mere limited self of him who loves, it has
a certain value as increasing the sphere of his concerns. Its
influence is in this sense widening, but it is not a widening
that approaches universality, simply because that is only
reached by penetration to what is universally present.
And the only thing which can be conceived as universal
in any sense is the spirit. Universal love, in other words,
results in love for everyone, but love for everyone (so far as
it can be
attained) does not result in universal love. And
.

in truth it is not possible to arrive completely at a love for

everyone in the normal human way, for humanly speaking

love depends on knowledge, and the knowledge of hu-
manity is necessarily limited. Below a state of conscious-
ness in the spirit it may be possible to stand in readiness to
extend love to every comer, but it would seem that in that
higher consciousness the love is active whether its recipient
be humanly known or not.
The relation between the one and the other appears,
then, as one of preparation. The lower, being tinged at
times with something of the grace and inclination towards
wideness of the higher, will gradually make the latter
possible by its increase of these qualities through perfect
233
 St. Francis of Assist
dedication. In general they stand in very much the same
mutual relation as meditation and contemplation. As
meditation consists in an activity of the mind searching for
comprehension of a particular point, and using every
resource of the reason in trying to achieve it, and contem-
plation consists in an utter stillness of the mind, a cessation
of the working of reason so that a higher light than its own
may shine through and illuminate the darkness ; and as the
one normally must precede the other; so human love at its
highest, in spite of its limitations and because it is in some
measure a pure outgiving, prepares the way for conscious-
ness in the spirit and the inexhaustible stream of love which
flows therefrom. Meditation thinks of a thing, contem-
plation knows it the
: human love loves some with varying
degrees of disinterestedness, the spiritual loves all in purity.
Since the means and the motive of the mystic are love, it
follows that there will be as the basis of his life a conception
of what love demands on all occasions, of what it brings in
the train of these demands on him, and of the attitude
which it compels him to take towards both God and man.
Just as his life should be a manifestation of love, so it will
bear the impress of love's ruling to the extent to which he is
true to his dedication. And the essence of love's ruling has
found no higher expression than that which it received at
the hand of St. Paul when he wrote that it vaunteth not
itself, that it is not puffed up, that it seeketh not its own.
This is love in its
perfection, in its
own-astounding humility
and purity.
Such a humility may therefore be looked for in the
mystic. In whatever direction he is liable to achieve results
which mark him off from the generality of mankind he may
be expected to exhibit the lowliness by virtue of which love
neither vaunts itself, nor is
puffed up. Now, the particular
sphere in which the mystic achieves success is in that of the
spiritual progress which leads to the knowledge of God.
234
 Sf. Francis of Assist
By the evidence of all the saints this progress is marked by
occurrences which stand in a category by themselves they
:

have little connection or none with the events which fill the
lives of the majority of men, for the reason that the majority
of men do not lay themselves open to receive them. As a
result of his general and detailed dedication of his whole
life, of the sanctification which he imports into it by the
direction he gives it, and because of the long hours he
gives to genuine prayer and meditation, the mystic and
the saint in so far as he is also a mystic throws open his
doors to communications of a kind apart. They come to
him in proportion as his sense of self-hood decreases, and
flood his whole being with a sense of freedom and life.
They may come, the records show, at any time and in any
place before the vast splendour of nature or in the
:

cloistered silence of devotion ; in what seems a chance and

unpremeditated concentration, or in the offices of praise;
but always they come when the way has been opened by a
forgetfulness of the self, and always therefore with the
splendour of a great surprise. They are, perhaps, less
communications than experiences, but they are experiences
in which communications come, and the mystic goes out
from the Presence-chamber with another veil raised from
his eyes and a new certainty in his heart. It may fade, it
may seem to recede into the mists of the external world,
.and the veil may seem gradually to gather again and dim
his sight, but he retains the unalterable conviction that the
veil was truly, if but for a moment, raised, and he goes
forward in the knowledge of this with a new hope and
something more than faith.
There is not there cannot be, in the nature of things
any definition of the form such experiences will take. They
must vary with the temperament, the outlook, the religious
upbringing of each individual. With St. Teresa the
experience took again and again the form of a vision,
235
 St. Francis of Assist
accompanied very often by the hearing of voices, and with
St. Catherine of Genoa it came as a vision on one occasion
in her life. With Boehme it came as a sudden sight into
and comprehension of the foundations of things, as also to
Ignatius
" Loyola, while to Brother Lawrence it appeared
as a high view of the providence and power or God,"
which kindled in him a love for God which continued
unbroken all his life. To the Lady Julian the experience
took the form of a vision of Christ speaking from the
Crucifix which was held before her in her extreme illness,
wherefrom she received the communications which consti-
tute her revelations with Pascal it appeared as an experi-
;

ence of fire which lasted for two hours, and brought with it
an indicible sensation of certainty and joy and peace. It is
immaterial for the moment whether these experiences be
the experiences of Conversion or Illumination, of the
first flash of Union or the last
supreme adventure of the
Spiritual Marriage: they stand in a class apart, and com-

prise a series of phenomena with which mankind in general

is
unacquainted.
The normal result of any singular achievement is some
measure of pride. A species of self-congratulation follows
on success almost as a matter of course a warm and
comfortable feeling of repose well earned, and a glowing
reflection on the prowess which achieved such success. In
the mind of the hypothetical man in the street self-satis-
faction isearned as a right by achievement. The pecu-
liarity of the mystic, in so far as he adheres to the principles
of his unexpressed creed, is that this is not so with him.
At the risk of exalting him to improbable heights it must
be insisted that (to the extent, again, to which he is success-
ful) it does not enter into his consciousness to count his
spiritual progress to himself for righteousness. Despite
the heroic struggles which he makes for it cannot be said
that life offers no opportunity for heroism while the self
236
 St. Francis of Assist
remains unconquered and the great victories and ad-
vances he achieves, they are not to him grounds for self-
satisfactionunder any guise. He is forced to the realiza-

tion that his struggles and advances are made at the

instigation of the spirit, and that to the spirit therefore is
due the honour of the victory. For it is by the force of the
spirit that he conquers. And it is the knowledge of this
in the mystic which causes him to receive the strange
sweetnesses of contemplation without reference to any
imaginary prowess on his part which may have contributed
to their gift, and enables him to experience the rare sense of
intimacy and the vivid joy of the divine communications
with a great gratitude, but with no trace of pride. For
again, and it is the explanation of all his improbabilities, he
is
inspired by love and his life is shaped according to its
precepts ; and love vaunteth not itself, neither is it puffed
up.
But beside these occurrences, which are of the essence of
the mystical life understood as the widening or intensifica-
tion of the consciousness until it shall be one with God,
there are certain incidents of it which are too often mistaken
for essentials. Under the general heading of mystical
phenomena fall the thousand and one vagaries of the
human consciousness when it is confronted with strange
conditions, and the way which it takes in the course of its
progress is through a region that is largely uncharted.
Such incidents are legion they comprise the innumerable
:

visions which are recorded in the history of mysticism and

the annals of sanctity, the locutions which have been heard
under countless different circumstances conveying an
amazing variety of messages, the revelations received, the
levitations seen and experienced, the perfumes smelt, the
music heard, and the bodily woundings which have been
suffered. They bring with them (or, more probably,
evidence) in many cases a felicity which is inexpressible,
237
 Sf. Francis of Assist
and it is
just the feeling of delight with which they are
associated that invests them with a certain danger. The
point to be kept in mind is that they are accidents of the
mystical life, and accidents more particularly of the path of
contemplation. It cannot be held on any ground that they
are necessary to spiritual advance, although it be possible
to believe that they present themselves very frequently to
those who have no other purpose than that advance, and
that they are in some cases or value. It does not, in fact,
seem open to question that when they are received in a
state of extreme depression they may act very definitely
as encouragements and consolations. They may be as a
ray of light striking across the utter darkness of the mystic's
outlook, or as a house of rest amid the heat and dust of his
way, and so give him strength and hope to go on, but they
are not for this reason necessary. The alleviation that they
bring is not indispensable any more than their messages
are final.
This view is put with unmistakable clearness by St.
John of the Cross. He explains that before the coming of
Christ and the entire revelation which that coming consti-
tuted, it was not only permissible, but desirable, that man
should seek the knowledge of God by ways which he calls
supernatural. He regards the coming, however, as having
given all that is
necessary to be known, and any further
curiosity as an impertinence. His view is almost breath^
lessly orthodox, for he is at pains throughout his treatment
of the subject to point out that one of the great dangers of
extraordinary ways is that they may lead the individual to
the belief that it is possible to gain some knowledge of the
truth without the mediumship of the Church, but his con-
clusion is the conclusion of all mysticism. He desires the
spiritual director to impress upon his penitent that one
good work done in charity is more precious in the eyes of
God than that which all the visions imaginable could
238
 St. Francis of Assist
produce, and that there are many souls who have never had
a vision in their lives who are beyond comparison more
advanced than those in whose lives visions have been
1
frequent. The Lady
Julian of Norwich gives expression
to the same belief. She prefaces her amazing Revelations
"
of Divine Love by the statement that because of the
Shewing I am not good but if I love God. the better: and
in as much as ye love God the better, it is more to you than
to me. I say not this to them that be wise, for they wot it
well ; but I say it to you that be simple, for ease and comfort.
. . For truly it was not shewed me that God loved me
.

better than the least soul that is in grace; for I am certain

that there be many that never had Shewing nor sight but
of the common teaching of Holy Church^ that love God
better than I." 2 In both these mystics, as in countless
others, there is a common insistence on love as the sole
necessity, and the view either expressed or implied
that the extraordinary ways of the spirit may be added to,
but are never necessary for, the souFs perfection.
There is no occasion here to enter into a discussion either
of the nature or the manner of working of the phenomena
which it is part of the province of mystical theology to
analyse and so far as it can to explain. If they be, as
seems most probable, the forms in which messages and
intimations are received from the great reservoir of sub-
consciousness, it is clear that they are neither safe guides in
themselves nor evidences of any peculiar sanctity. For
the subconscious region must be conceived as containing
not only the highest of which man is capable, but also the
lowest as holding within it not only the potential God, but
:

the potential beast. Ease of access to it in general conse-

1
The Ascent of Mount Carmel, book chaps, xxi, xxii. See also
ii,

H. Joly, The Psychology of the Saints, chap. Hi, wherein the author deals
at length with extraordinary phenomena from the Catholic standpoint.
8
Revelations of Divine Love, chap. ix.
 St. Francis of Assist
quently evidences a peculiar psychic temperament rather
than anything especially holy, and a psychic temperament
which may be a dangerous possession as easily as a blessing.
Its peculiarity lies obviously in its susceptibility, and by the
increase of this susceptibility powers may be gained which
will place their possessor far enough from the rank and file
of mankind, but not necessarily in the ranks of sanctity.
The value of such powers is not under dispute, any more
than the excellence of the uses to which they can be put or
their interest for the student of psychology, but for the
mystic they constitute a by-path. His formula would be
that spiritual progress may produce them, but they do not
produce, or finally evidence, spiritual progress. It is in
consequence of this that the saints, who were and are, after
all, by way of being experts in the spiritual life, and

examples, in some cases, of mysticism at its highest level,

prayed with peculiar fervour not to be led by the way of
such phenomena. They realized that just because of the
delight and the satisfaction that was to be found in the
experience of them there was a danger of their being sought
as ends in themselves, as well as of their producing in their
possessors the pride which they were intent on avoiding.
And if this seem an undue timidity on their part, or an
unnecessary and slavish fear of risking their souls' welfare
in return for what might have been of inestimable advan-
tage, it is only necessary to look round even at the present
day and see what havoc is wrought by the search after
psychic powers, to be convinced of their high wisdom. It
needs not only a profound dedication, but a very balanced
and exceptionally clear mind to undertake safely the re-
sponsibility of their possession, and the saints had no desire
to take gratuitous risks which they saw any possibility of
avoiding. Their purpose was the noumenon, and phe-
nomena were therefore a superfluity.
The earnest desire of "the greatest among them, to avoid
240
 St. Francis of Assisi
such ways is common theme of writers on mystical
the
theology. Thus
Scaramelli goes to the extent of saying
that visions, locutions, revelations, and prophecies are
extremely dangerous and not very useful. He advises the
Director to instruct any penitent who may be beginning to
experience them to pray with the utmost fervour to be led
by some safer way. He quotes St. Teresa in support of
*

this advice, to the effect that she prayed with all her might
to be led by some other way, and that this lasted some
two years and was the subject of all her prayers. Scara-
melli points out the difficulty of escaping some kind of self-
satisfaction and of remaining wholly detached when such

experiences are common, and assures his readers that there

2
is no way more
pernicious or more open to deceit. Devine
;

is of the same
opinion, and gives as his authority the
Treatise on Heroic Virtue of Benedict XIV. This work
quotes St. Bonaventure as saying that it seems safer not to
seek them, and not to trust them too readily when they are
"
offered. They should be esteemed lightly, as less profit-
able," and Gerson and St. Philip advise that they should be
3
definitely renounced and repelled. Poulain rests the
same counsel on St. Teresa's opinions in different parts of
her writings. In her Life* she states that she never asked
for any from God, and adds that if she had done
revelation
so she would think at once that any revelation which came
must be a delusion. In the Interior Cattle^ speaking of
locutions, she maintains that in the beginning it is always
"
wiser to resist them, and later, of visions, says: I most

earnestly advise you, when you hear of God bestowing

these graces on others, that you never pray nor desire to be
led by this way yourself, though it may appear to you to be
1
Life, chap, xxv, sec.
20.
2
II Dlrettorlo Mistico, tratt. iv, cap. iv, sees. 41-3.
3
Devine, A Manual of Mystical Theology^ pp. 506, 507.
4
Relation viii, sec. ^^.
24 I Q
 St. Francis of Assisi
very good: indeed, it ought to be highly esteemed and
reverenced, yet no one should seek to go by it for several
reasons." And a few pages later she adds that the recipient
of these and similar favours does not therefore merit more
glory, and that many saints never received any of them,
while others who did receive them are not saints at all. 1
References to similar pronouncements could be multi-
plied almost indefinitely, but those that have been given
suffice to show the unimportance in which mystical pheno-
mena -per se have been held by those who were most fitted
to judge of them. There is the probability that such
opinions have been influenced by the fear of the Roman
Church lest its members should elude its authority by
dependence on personal communications, but there is the
certainty also that the mystics were fundamentally sincere
in their recognition of the danger of the recipients of such
favours becoming inflated with a sense of their own import-
ance. It is an evidence of their desire to shape their lives
on the principles and according to the dictates of love at
its
highest. It is the manner in which they avoided devia-
tion from the direct way which led to their goal, passing
lightly by whatever might detain them by its inherent
attractiveness. They desired one thing, and one thing
only; they knew by their own internal conviction and by
the evidence of centuries that the way to that thing was by
fulfilling their lives with love and directing them according
to all its implications, and first and foremost among such
implications was the necessity of not vaunting themselves
on account of anything, or dallying with any incidents by
which they might be puffed up.
1
Interior Castle, Sixth
Mansion, chap, iii, sec. 3 ; chap, ix, sees. 13
and 19.See A. Poulain, The Graces of Interior Prayer, chap, xxiii, and
the extra&s following it.

242
 Chapter Twelve
UST AS ST. FRANCIS' LIFE APPEARS,
[when regarded from one point of view, to consti-
(tute a prolonged and eventually successful

ruggle to overcome the tendencies of his lower

self, so, when examined from a standpoint which sees more

deeply into that which prompted such a struggle, it appears

as instinct at every turn with an overwhelming love. In
the event, it has been seen, the movement towards self-
annihilation is inseparable from love since, by all the hypo-
theses, the supreme characteristic of the spirit which
prompts it is a love which nothing can finally limit, and
even the -passing austerities of asceticism are one of the
forms which that love assumes in its ceaseless striving
towards its end. For love cannot be the cause only of such
things as seem pleasant to the mind of humanity. Working
in concealment, and sometimes by such devious ways that
to recognize it as love at all, it must include
it is difficult

within the sphere of its activity the necessary severities

against whatever hinders it: it is not simply acquiescence,
but vigorous action. And in its manifestation it is not, so
to speak, a simple substance, but is compounded of severity
and mercy.
Thus in the case of St. Francis it is not too much to say
that his continuing motive was love. It was at the root of
all his self-subjugation, the source of all his splendour, and
the cause of all his power. It is not necessary to recall in
detail the incidents of his attempt to accomplish his self-
annihilation^ since they constitute the substance of the
foregoing chapters, but in certain of them the love by
243
 St. Francis of Assist
which he was inspired is particularly in evidence. One of
the incidents which remained most vividly in his own mind
was the violent attempt he had made at the beginning of his
new life to overcome his instinctive repugnance to lepers.
It will be remembered that while riding near Assisi he met
a leper on the road, and that instead of making his depar-
ture as rapidly as possible (as he had been in the habit
of doing) he dismounted and gave him money and kissed
his hands. This -was the beginning of a care for those
1
suffering from leprosy which lasted all his life. In this
episode and its
subsequent developments is a clear
example
of the way in which with St. Francis love was at the root of
his self-annihilation, and his self-annihilation was expressed
in love. It is not possible to regard him as concerned solely
with the effort to overcome his own feelings in his first
salutation of the leper by the roadside, or in the hideous
details of his attentions to them in the lazar-houses after-
wards. There must have been, at the side of and sustaining
the effort, a force of love outflowing to them a force which :

would break down his repugnance and enable him to

attend them, and eventually spend itself in the care which
he lavished on them. The point is that it could not
express itself until it had abolished, and except by abolish-
ing, that which stood between it and its object. And as
this was so in the individual case, so it is in all cases and

everywhere. Sacrifice without love is fundamentally a

contradiction in terms it is replaced at- highest by con-
:

siderations of expediency and at the lowest by self-seeking

undisguised.
The same attitude is palpably underlying the occasions
on which St. Francis expressed himself both by word and
by deed as to the necessity for giving to those poorer than
himself, and for considering all property as held in com-
mon. 2 On the surface they most obviously point to the aboli-
1 - 2
See above, p. 203. See chap. vi.

244
THE UMBRIAN PLAIN, FROM ASSISI

face p. 244
 St. Francis of Assist
tion of the sense of propriety, but that which abhors and
militates against the separateness is the spirit of love which
is St. Francis, it would seem, realizing in how
universal.
great a degree property divided, on every occasion took
the most obvious steps to manifest the love which was in
him. By letting fall all claim to ownership he was enabled
to do this with a fulness which otherwise had been im-
possible. As, in the case of the lepers, the self-annihilation
was necessitated by and founded on love, so with the
beggars to whom he would give his clothes and his food
with a regularity that disturbed his brethren, he was
enabled by so doing to liberate and give expression to his
love; and in the end he was so filled and compact of love
that he knew in himself that universality which from the
1
beginning he had ardently desired.
But beside the teaching and the numerous definite
actions which by implication depend on love for their
efficacy, there is in St. Francis* life a quality which cries
aloud that love was its one and only source. It stands,
together with his great simplicity, in the minds of those
who have learned to know him with any intimacy, as being
in a
supreme degree characteristic, and as that by which
his true followersmay be known now as in the period of
his life. Joy was for him essential: it was not a quality
to be added to any other attitude of life as a conveni-
ent companion, but was in effect the one attitude which
was tolerable. He could not, and would not, permit his
1
Father Cuthbert (Life, pp. 157, 158) has well pointed out that the
width and fervour of St. Francis' love are exemplified by the spirit in
which, he undertook the journey to the Holy Land. It was for him
a spiritual crusade instead of a crusade of arms, and was founded on
the love he bore to the infidel rather than on the prevalent belief that
they were an evil race which called for extermination by the sword.
His purpose was not to wrest from them by force the land of Christ's
ministry, but to carry to them the great news of Christ's continual
reality.

245
 St. Francis of Assist
brethren to take life grudgingly: he would have them
accept it
gladly and with open arms as a gift beyond price,
not resenting its difficulties or magnifying its failures, but
welcoming it as proof and evidence of the boundless good-
ness of the Giver. It was not in him to pick and choose
between the details of such a gift. His acceptance was
complete. His whole life bears witness to the raft that he
received whatever came as from the hand of God, in the
knowledge that it was therefore good and as such a fit
reason for joy, without reference to what might or might
not be his natural personal feelings.
Such an attitude, it should be remarked, does not make
for a placid passivity in face of life's problems. St.

Francis, as few others, recognized that the world as it

presented itself to his view in his own particular time was
in vital need of reformation, and he devoted the genius of
his life to bettering it in the way which appeared to him
mot radical. It suffered then, as it suffers now, from not
knowing God, and what he did was done with the aim of
remedying this defeft to the full extent of his powers for
his own time and, within the measure of possibility, for
that which came after him. He specialized, that is, as all
mystics have done, in the life of the spirit, and laboured to
bring men into conformity with the life in which that sjpirit
should be paramount. All his self-control, all his praying,
all his teaching
by word and by deed, had this one end in
view: from the period when he turned back from his
journey to Apulia in obedience to the voice which he heard
in a dream, to the moment of his death on the bare ground
of the cell at Santa Maria degli Angeli, his life was a
continual effort to effecl: this one thing only by all the means
which lay in his power. But with this recognition of the
need for the world's betterment went an unfaltering con-
viftion of the wisdom which overruled it. He realized,
there would seem no reason to doubt, that that wisdom
246
 Sf. Francis of Assist
worked through human activity: that men were the
agents of the world's reform, and therefore bound to
unravel as far as possible the purposes of that wisdom and
work in conformity with it. Hence his own efforts. But
when such efforts had reached their limit, when humanity
had done in all sincerity its utmost to bring to perfection
the divine purpose, it was incumbent on it to accept what-
ever the result might be as part of the supreme ordinance.
His own work was to increase the sincerity and the
enthusiasm with which humanity joined in this purpose:
there can be no questioning that to such a passionate fol-
lower of Christ's life the final word was always : Not my
will,but Thine, be done.
With such a view, founded as it necessarily is on a cer-
tainty of the love of God, life must have been a continual
source of joy. But in the glad acceptance of events the
conviction of the love of God for man must go hand in
hand with a full and unfaltering love of man for God.
Whatever be the source from which occurrences finally
come, there can be no joy in their reception unless the
source be sincerely 'loved. Without such love they will
be received at the best with resignation, and at the worst
with resentment. To the extent that joy is an evidence of
love, there is thus in St. Francis' insistence on its necessity
a keen realization of its implications. The imaginary
picture drawn by him of the ill-treatment of himself and
Brother Leo on their return to the Portiuncula has already
been referred to as showing the emphasis he laid on the
need for self-conquest 1 it points no less certainly to the
:

conviction that the perfection of joy lay in the glad accept-

ance of whatever was meted out to them. It was to be
accepted simply because it came from outside them, from
an immediate source over which they had no control it lay :

1
See above, p. 43.
 Sf. Francis of Assisi
in their power either to
accept it with perfect joy as part of
the ordinance of God, or to resent it. The second alterna-
tive was not possible if they believed in the all-seeing love
of God and returned that love with all the power of their
natures; for then joy must flow from them as water from
the struck rock.
,
The corollary of this acceptance of whatever comes as
from the hand of God is a position which to many must
seem grotesque. To the mystic who is passionately de-
sirous of God it must often seem that a life of comparative
contentment, a life in which necessities are at hand and
nothing is very far to seek, where one day follows another
with a certain placidity, is the least desirable condition
possible. He is by his nature anxious for opportunities
to prove his devotion anxious for a chance of showing his
unfailing love for God by letting it burn undiminished in
the midst of difficulties and darkness. He would be in
agreement with the writer of the Theologia Germatiica, that
man is safe either in the hell or the heaven of life, but that
1
in any intermediate state he is most dangerously placed.
If all be easy and everything at hand it is felt that though
resentment be easily avoided, love is not very easily felt.
By a turn of his nature the mystic who is inspired by this
view may feel, since vividness brings vividness in its train,
that he will be more true to his dedications in suffering than
in such contentment, and, to a high degree, that as it is the
lower self alone that is capable of suffering, the more that
it is called
upon to undergo, the more effectually will it be
crushed out. He will desire difficulties, then, as other men
will desire ease, so that his love may be put to the test, that
it
may be galvanized into vital action, that his undesirable
tendencies may be annihilated, and that his joyful accept-
ance may be a real and actual thing.

1
Theologia Germanica, chap. xi.

248
 St. Francis of Assist
Actuated by a similar impulse, St. Francis admonished
his brethren that they should rejoice when they fell into
temptation, and bore some afflictions of soul or body in this
world for the sake of eternal life. 1 Iron is strengthened, as
gold is purified, by fire, and without temptation man is of
little avail. He did not, that is, confine his desire for
difficulties to the hardships which he might suffer exter-
nally and at the hands of the world : he longed ardently to
increase the strength of his love and his will by battling
against interior foes. It was quite clear to him that a man
was not in any way proved, and therefore sure of himself,
if his
path lay in easy lands. Tribulation was therefore not
only what the servant of God might expect, but what he
should desire. Even the devils, he explained to his com-
panion "when he had himself been suffering intensely one
night, are the officers whom God appoints to punish
excesses," and he accounted it for a token of God's grace
when a man was purified by suffering from all his offences
while he was in this world.
But St. Francis went farther than this. He regarded the
severity of the temptation as an evidence of the" degree
of
virtue and certainty which had been attained, for," as he
"
said, hard fights scarcely ever present themselves, except
when virtue has been perfected." Secure in the belief that
man would not be tempted beyond his strength, and that
the recognition as a temptation of a tendency in some
direction pointed at least to a high ideal with which the
tendency would, so to speak, be compared, he felt a certain
"
disdain for those who, as he said, hug themselves over
their long-standing merits and rejoice in having undergone
no temptations." His was, indeed, a sacramentalizing of
1
First Rule, chap, xvii (Writings, p. 51). Cf. Molinos, TAe Spiritual
" know
Guide, book i, chap, x, sec. 63 :
Finally thou art to that the
greatest Temptation is to be without Temptation, wherefore thou
oughtest to be glad when it shall assault thee."

249
 St. Francis of Assisi
temptation, a recognition of both its necessity and its
"
worth. Verily I say unto thee that no one should deem
himself a servant of God until he has passed through
temptations and tribulations. Temptation conquered is
in some sort the ring whereby the Lord espouses to Him-
self the soul of his servant." As such he did not accept it
with resignation as a thing at bes"l to be borne without
1
resentment, but acclaimed its advent with joy. How, in
faft, can it be possible to fail in this joy if love for the Giver
of all things be paramount, and how is it possible to coun-
terfeit it if such love be absent ?
St. Francis experienced it almost from the beginning.
When he was wandering on the slopes of Monte Subasio,
and was attacked and thrown into a snowdrift by a band
of robbers, he accepted it as part of the proving of a new
knight of God, not only as an opportunity for rising
superior to physical discomfort, but with the joy that had
its source in his entire love for the God from whom 'all
events ultimately came. He exulted in it simply because
it was. Joy welled up in him almost unceasingly, with
fluctuations from time to time at firs!:, it may be imagined,
but always with greater or less force. At times it became
so insistent that he was compelled to give some expression
to it he was carried away as with the unlimited gladness
:

of a child. It is probable that on several of the occasions on

which this is recorded of him he was under the spell of a
definite spiritual experience, of which the ineffable great-
ness swept all before it, as when the brethren said of him
" "
that he was as one drunk with the spirit shortly after
his experience before the Crucifix in the church of San
"
Damiano. He had come into a very intoxication of the
2
divine love," and had for the time lost his ordinary con-
sciousness of the surrounding world; but on other
1
See Celano, ii, 118, 119; Mirror, Ixvii.
2
Legend, 21.
250
 St. Francis of Assist
him welled up and overflowed,
occasions the joy that was in
as were, spontaneously. He would then seize on what-
it

ever was nearest two sticks lying on the ground and

therewith improvise a violin. And as he played on his
soundless instrument he would give vent to his overwhelm-
"
ing joy to the veins of murmuring which he heard
secretly with his ears," as Brother Leo puts it by singing
aloud the praises and the splendour of God. He sang in
French, as the language which he continually used at
moments of overpowering emotion, 1 and so gave relief and
expression to the torrent of joy that was in him. It seems
to have been utterly spontaneous and utterly unconscious :

the result of an overpowering need of giving vent to the

love that he felt for God and man and every manifested
thing. And at the end his joy would overcome him with
its fervour, and he would break into tears of adoration
2
before the splendour that he saw.
It must have been a similar feeling for the high mystery
of the love of God which caused him never to refuse any-
thing which was asked in that name. It constituted an
appeal that he could not resist, and his determination never
to deny the gift when the request was made in this form
dates from the early days of his life. Before he had dedi-
cated himself to the new life of the spirit, before, in fact,
he had left his father's house to make his own new way
1
As, for example, when he was at Rome for the first time, and took
his place among the beggars in front of St. Peter's, and asked for alms
in French. The a&ion must have required considerable courage, and
caused him a certain exaltation on its accomplishment. See Legend, 10.
Also on the occasion when he overcame his shyness in begging for oil
for the lamps at -San Damiano, he asked for it in French, in the revulsion
of joy which came over him as a result of his self-conquest. See above,
pp. 49 et seq. Emotion would attach to French or Proven9al rather
in his mind, as it was the language of the troubadours for whose songs
he had so great an affeftion.
a
Celano, ii, 127; Mirror, xciii.

251
 Sf. Francis of Assisi
across the world, he was standing in the shop one day when
a passing beggar asked alms for the love of God. At the
moment he refused, but a little while after was so struck
by the churlishness of his act that he made up his mind
never to refuse in future a similar appeal. reflectedHe
that if the beggar had asked in the name of, and depending
on, his respect for some powerful baron of the neighbour-
hood, to refuse would have been the last thing to occur to
him; and he blamed himself even then for such a dis-
1
courtesy to God. His biographies witness that he was
faithful to his determination, and it would appear as is
only natural that his tenderness for such an appeal
increased with time. Any misuse of the words distressed
him, and he would rebuke any brother who spoke them
"
lightly. So very high and very precious is the love of
"
God," he would say, that it should never be named save
seldom and in great necessity, and with much reverence." 2
To the brethren who occasionally remonstrated with him
he put it with a touch of his habitual southern fantasy and
largeness, and declared that it was a noble prodigality to
offer such payment as the love of God in return for the
alms that were asked. The giving, and the attitude which
gave gladly at such a demand, appeared to him, it may well
be believed, as in some way a letting loose from its normal
restrictions of the great love which surrounded him. The
love which sought no return, but went out spontaneously to
allaround it, was put into motion by the request and its
granting, and the manifestation of the love of God was,
"
in
actual fact, the result. For the rest, the very words the
love of God" came to have in his mind so great a signific-
ance and appeal that he could never hear them without
being touched by the sweetness that they held. He would
"
undergo a kind of transformation; for immediately on
1
Legend, 3; Celano, i, 17; Bonaventure, i, i.
2
Mirror^ xxxiv.
252
 St. Francis of Assist
hearing those words he was aroused, stirred, inflamed, as
though some inner chord of his heart were being touched
by the plectrum of an outward voice." They responded,
that is, to what was the essence and the meaning of his life,
and called forth from within him as by a sympathetic
vibration an answer to that which he saw everywhere. He
summed up all that was most precious and vivid and real
to him in words of which the sweetness and poignancy are
"
as alive to-day as when he said them: The love of Him
who loved us much, is much to be loved." Herein were to
St. Francis the cause of all, the method of all, and the end to
which all must tend. 1 In its entirety it meant the cessation
of himself and his fulfilment by God ; an exultant death in
"
the consuming flames of love.
"
I beseech Thee, O
Lord,"
he prayed, that the fiery and sweet strength of Thy love
may absorb my soul from all things that are under heaven,
that I may die for love of Thy love as Thou didst deign to
2
die for love of my love."
And as he experienced in his own life the joy of love, so
he hailed it in the lives of his brethren. On one occasion,
when he was at Santa Maria degli Angeli, he saw one of his
companions returning from Assisi with the alms that he had
begged, rejoicing aloud as he came. That the brother
should give such manifest signs of the joy that St. Francis
always desired was one of the keenest delights that could
be given him. In great joy himself, therefore, he ran out
to meet him, and took his load on to his own shoulder
"
until they reached the dwelling of the brethren. Thus,"
he said, in his exuberance at so signal an example of what
"
he consistently taught, thus I would that a brother of
mine should go out and return with alms, glad and joyful
and praising God." 3 Similarly, when he was himself
1
Celano, ii, 196 ; Bonaventure, ix, I.
a
Prayer to Obtain Divine Love (Writings, p. 145).
3
Mirror, xxv; Celano, ii, 76.
253
 Sf. Francis of Ass isi
tempted to sadness, he could find in the gladness, of :his
fellows a recall to the exterior and interior joy which with
the greatest longing he desired to know and feel in them
and in himself. 1
The
extent to which St. Francis definitely taught the
desirability of joy to his followers is proverbial. Since in
his mind it was inseparable from love, in impressing on
them the need for its encouragement he was presupposing,
as well as preparing the way for, love. He gave it in the
form of an admonition at one of the Chapters, and after-
wards included it Rule as an addition to the
in the First
"
primitive counsels. Let the brethren beware of showing
themselves outwardly sullen and gloomy hypocrites, but
let them show themselves rejoicing in the Lord, merry,
and joyful, and gracious, as is meet."
2
And when any of
the brethren looked sad or downcast he would rebuke him
as though for some evident misdemeanour. The ground
on which the rebuke rested was that it was not fitting for
a servant of God to show himself sad before men: his
distress and regret for his sins should be confined to the

privacy of his own room, and all gloom should be put aside
when he appeared in public. 3 They whom he would have
known as the minstrels of God must clothe themselves with
joy as with a garment, showing forth by their actions and
their life how gracious was the service that they owed.
Every time a brother went gladly through the world it
was a living sermon, better than any preached with the
tongue, to the effect that joy resided as of nature in the
service of God; and the service of God for those times
meant the definite renunciation of the world. It pointed
to the fact that in joining themselves to the Order of the
Friars Minor men would not be condemning themselves
to a life of gloom and hatred, but leaving a life of superficial
1 2
Mirror, xcvi. Celano, ii, 128; Writings, p. 41.
3
Celano, ii, 128; Mirror, xcvi.
254
 St. Francis of Assist
and evanescent pleasure for one which was instinct with

joy because it was founded on love.

It is
presumably because of the indissoluble connection
between these two qualities that St. Francis recognized in
joy a genuine protection against sin. It would not be so
much for what it produced as for that which it implied as
its basis: it was a
quality that could only be produced by a
certain interior disposition, and it was that disposition
which he desired. His aim was for them to be filled w,ith a
spiritual joy which came from clearness of heart and devout-
ness of prayer; came, that is, from a heart in which there
was no inclination to the separateness of self-hood, and from
a continual remembrance of, and dedication to, the source
of all high things. If they were so disposed joy would
be in them, and if joy were in them the demons, as he
phrased it, would be unable to harm them, for they would
"
say, since this servant of God
has joy in tribulation as in
prosperity, we can find no entering to him nor of
way of
hurting him." Thus their joy would be the livery of their
free servitude, as sadness would be the mark of those in
bondage to evil, and with joy and its foundations as an
automatic defence against wrong the brethren would be the
edification of their neighbours and the reproach of the
1
enemy.
St. Francis thus conceived the powers of darkness as
realizing the protection which joy afforded the brethren,
and as always trying to trouble it in them even if they could
not do so in him. Melancholy opened the door to them,
and it was in part the fear of this resulting from over-
severity to their bodies which caused him to counsel his
brethren to use some discretion in their austerities.
Asceticism, as all other actions, had to be undertaken and
sustained joyfully. The enthusiasm of their joy would
1
Mirror, xcv.
 St. Francis of Assist
ensure their asceticism being strict, within the limits ; but
if it were not there he
pictured the soul as finding no delight
or even satisfaction within, and the flesh accordingly
demanding its own and finally gaining authority over the
soul which was starved for want of its own proper nourish-
ment of love and joy. 1 His belief in its efficacy is summed
"
up by Celano in words that will bear repetition. When
spiritual joy (he said) fills the heart, in vain does the
Serpent shed his deadly poison. Devils cannot hurt
2
Christ's servant when they see him filled with holy mirth."
It was, finally, one of the purposes of St. Francis*

prayer to restore spiritual joy when it had been lost or

troubled. He went to the source of love and freedom to
renew them in himself, and to draw therefrom the joy
which was his supreme defence. 3 For prayer was to him
a living well of consolation and inspiration: the means
by which he actually communicated with the higher and
wider life which surrounded him. If during it he were
disturbed by any of the affairs or questions which were
naturally brought to him as leader of a large and growing
Order, he would return to it the moment he had disposed
of them and take up again the interior attitude he had been
compelled for a moment and in some measure to leave.
His custom was to seek some place removed from his
companions where he could pray without feeling that their
eyes were upon him. and where he could give himself up
without hindrance to the promptings of the spirit that
moved him. If he became conscious, while in public, of the
great ocean of divinity in which he was enfolded, and if the
imperative necessity of devoting himself wholly to the
whisperings of the spirit forced itself upon him, he used
to hide his face with the sleeve of his habit so that nothing
should distract his attention, or attract the notice of his
1
Celano, ii, 69, 128-9.
3 3
1'bid., ii, 125. Ibid.

256
 St. Francis of Assist
fellows. He would erect round him, that is, a real or
imaginary enclosure within which he was free to give
himself up to undisturbed devotion.
But just as prayer was not with him a formal thing, an
obedient repetition of formulae, so it was not confined to
any particular time or place. It continued, as has been
well remarked, throughout all that he did; walking, work-
ing, or resting he retained that attitude of the soul turned
towards God in adoration which is the foundation and the
essence of prayer. Celano describes him in one of his
graphic phrases as not so much praying as having become
a living prayer, inasmuch as he concentrated his whole
attentionand affection on what he was seeking. There
were times, it is natural and true, when he was more
specifically conscious of the divine than at others times of
special devotion and concentration when he purposely
withdrew from the external world and moved with a pro-
portionately greater freedom in the world within. Such
would be the times of his most vivid and full communion,
and the times in particular when he would receive those
ineffable consolations which are part of the mystic*s herit-
1
age.
Thepoint of interest for the moment is his attitude
towards such consolations and experiences. 2 In the early
days of the Order, when St. Francis was troubled about its
future and unable to see clearly what were the best steps
to take to ensure its success, he one day gave himself up to
fervent prayer. He was overcome with a sense of his own
shortcomings in general and his incapacity, as he was, to

Celano, ii, 94, 95 ; Le Monnier, book ii, p. 214.

1

2
It has not been found possible to deal with St. Francis' mystical
life his life, that is, from the point of view of its definite interior stages
in the present book. His experiences will be considered, therefore,
without special reference to the steps of spiritual advance for, which
they stood.
257 R
 Sf. Francis of Assist
direct the destinies of his companions in particular. As he
prayed, with continual self-accusations and appeals for
mercy, there gradually crept over him an indescribable and
overpowering gladness- a flood of joy which swept away
his doubts and hesitations, and filled him with a con-
viction of security. He was no longer oppressed by the
weight of his sin, but passed, according to his biographer,
into a region apart from himself wherein he was bathed and
absorbed in light. Standing thus apart from the limitations
of ordinary humanity he was open to intimations and
impressions from which it is in general debarred, and saw
clearly the future of the Order laid out like a map before
him. When the vision faded and the light withdrew, he
came out from the experience completely renewed in spirit,
so that he seemed already changed into another man. If
the implications of such an experience be considered, with
all its treasure of unearthly joy and exhilaration, the
" " feeling
of freedom in being caught up above himself away from
everyday restrictions and communing with the universal
spirit of the world, it will be realized that for a very large
proportion of men it would be inseparable from some
sense of gratification. The natural impulse would be
towards a feeling of satisfaction at having achieved so
much, or at leasl: at having been singled out as worthy of
such a visitation it is not beyond the bounds of probability
:

that some almost instinctive inclination towards an attitude

of superiority would shape itself in the mind which com-
pared itself with others to whom such occurrences were
unknown. There would be who will deny it ? a tend-
ency to speak of it to others, casually, it may be, but as
though it were a personal achievement as to which there
was some ground for self-congratulation. It was precisely
this that St. Francis avoided. It seems that he made no
attempt to describe to the brethren his amazing experiences
in so far as they were tricl:ly personal, and was only con-
258
 Sf. Francis of Assist
trained to mention his vision of the future of the Order by
the knowledge that in so doing he would give his com-
panions an encouragement they sorely needed. He
described how he had seen that the Order would be greatly
increased, with brethren coming from all countries to join
themselves to it, but before he spoke he said quite plainly
that he mentioned even so much of his experience with
"
great reluctance. I am constrained also for your profit to
tell
you what I have seen ; but far
more gladly would I keep
silence concerning it, did not charity constrain me to
1
report it to you."
Thus also after his final exaltation on Mount Alvernia,
when he went out into the world with the Stigmata upon
him, as the sealing of his complete serving of Chris!:, he was
continually at pains to hide them not only from the general
public, but from the brethren as well. It was with diffi-

culty that he was persuaded to relate even the main points

of his experience to his brethren, and there were some
things in it the words which were spoken by the figure
on the Cross which he would never recount. 2 He wore
woollen socks to hide the wounds in his feet, and was
unwilling to put out his hand for anyone to kiss lest the
marks should be seen. He would rather hold out his
fingers only, or sometimes cover it with his sleeve, and
when Brother Pacifico induced him to give him both his
hands to kiss so that another brother might see the wounds,
"
St; Francis afterwards
reproved him with God pardon
thee, brother, for thou givest me much distress sometimes."
The curiosity of the brethren was not always kept in check
by his evident wishes, for though when his tunic was being
shaken out he would cover the wound in his side, Brother
Rufino on one occasion put his hand inside the habit and
slip down until he touched
let it the scar. Such incidents

1 2
Celano, i, 26, 27. Bonaventure, xiii, 4.

259
 St. Francis of Assist
always caused St. Francis great trouble, and there does
not seem any reasonable doubt that he was afraid lest, by
the adulation of the people, he might be led into glorifying
himself for what he had received. 1
The prospect of crowds flocking to see him and praise
him with all the warm-hearted, if momentary, sincerity of
Italy, on account of an incident which symbolized not
some achievement of his own, but a great favour which he
received, must have filled him with horror. And with his
strangely unperverted frankness he could not have escaped
the feeling that in allowing such honours to be paid to him
as would result from a general knowledge of the Stigmata,
he would be allowing the people to offer to him what was
due only to God. It is in accordance with his whole
character that this should stand for a real difficulty: even
to allow honour to be deflected, and much more if he were
the cause of such deflection, from God to himself would
be to him a wrong of indescribable baseness. Further, he
cannot but have realized that the wounds which he bore
were not in themselves ultimate. They were the evidence
of an interior experience, the seal which in his own heart
he knew for a sign of the final and unbroken compact
made between himself and the spirit of Christ in the blind-
ing moments on Alvernia. To him they expressed con-
tinually the great fact that he had attained his ideal and
been crucified with Christ in the manner in which it was
in some sense risen with Him
possible, and had also they :

were not the fact itself, though by others they might be

mistaken for it. They were important, in a word, like
other mystical phenomena, for the inner experience for
which they stood, and, dear though they were to him in his
love for Christ's Passion, he would not have them taken
otherwise.
1
Celano, i, 95, 96; ii, 136-8; Legend, 69. Cf. Little Flowers, Of
the Fourth Consideration of the Most Holy Stigmata.
260
 St. Francis of Assisi
For the Francis consistently taught the folly of
rest, St.
publishing abroad the details of consolations received in
prayer. He felt the beauty of silence in such things. To
divulge them to others was in some way to dissipate them,
as though by putting so subtle and precious a thing into the
necessarily precise form of words it would lose something
of its fineness, and as though by being bandied about it
were belittled. He took the view also that by importing
any personal pride into the matter the source of consolation
would be automatically closed, since the reception of such
consolation varied with the degree to which the personal
"
element had been obliterated. For the sake of a trifling
"
reward," he summed it
up, one may lose a priceless thing,
and may easily provoke the giver not to repeat his gift."^
His habitual attitude was expressed in the words used by
"
Isaiah, My secret to me" ; for that which passes between
the soul and God is the soul's own, and efficacious only
2
for her.
So great was
St. Francis* belief in the dire effects of

boasting about such things that he put his warning in the

form of one of the Admonitions which contain the pith
of his verbal teaching. He was by way of composing
beatitudes after the manner of those given in the Sermon
on the Mount, as well as of applying those already in
existence to the needs of his brethren's life, and on this
"
occasion he made use of that form. Blessed is the
"
servant," he wrote, who treasures up in heaven the good
things which the Lord shows him and who does not wish
to manifest them to men through the hope of reward, for
the Most High will Himself manifest His works to whom-
soever He may please. Blessed is the servant who keeps
3
the secrets of the Lord in his heart." And it is likely
enough, as Celano suggests, that he had learned the truth
1 2
Celano, 99 ; Bonaventure, x, 4.
ii, Ibtd. t xiii, 4.
3
Admonition 28 (Writingst p. 19).
26l
 St. Francis of Assist
of his advice by his own experience, and found in effect that
it was an evil
thing to impart all things to everybody. He
knew, it is said, that it is impossible for anyone to be spirit-
ual, the perfection of whose spiritual state is not greater
than that which appears outwardly, and great though were
the external evidences in the case of St. Francis, it is not
difficult to believe that the source, from which they sprang
1
was greater still.

With this dislike of treating divine visitations as a matter

of common conversation, or of allowing them to be in
however remote a way a cause of self-gratification, went a
vivid realization of their high value. St.Francis stands
out in some distinction to the large body of saints and
mystics who regarded such experiences with distrust: he
did not share their belief in the danger of them if they were
taken in the proper spirit. It may be on the one hand that
at his period the science of the spiritual life had not been

brought to the pitch of perfection that it afterwards

reached: the inner way had not then been analysed and
tabulated in Christendom, and it is evident that the writ-
ings of the Church Fathers would be far from generally
known. It has been the work of Mystical Theology to
popularize to some extent, and to classify to a large extent,
the experiences and the advice of mystics who were very
largely posterior to St. Francis, and he was therefore neither
subject to their recommendations nor privileged to profit
by their experience. And on the other hand, the almost
timid attitude of some of the later mystics was foreign to
his nature. There is nothing to show that he, any more
than they, ever allowed himself or his brethren to aim at
divine visitations or definite mystical phenomena as things
precious in themselves such consolations were superadded
:

to the main and the real purpose of life, and not to be

1
Celano, i, 96.
262
 St. Francis of Assis i
mistaken for that purpose itself. But this did not mean to
St. Francis that they should be mistrusted. With the
absolute simplicity of his essentially childlike nature he
was more apt to receive them with a genuine delight and a
very sincere gratitude. He recognized both by their
essential quality and their effect that they were, in his own

language, from God, and he was ready to receive whatever

should come from such a source with open arms. It was
his very simplicity which prevented him from seeking
such consolations as definite ends, or to satisfy a personal
curiosity,and it was his simplicity also that moved him
to be grateful when they were given. From what is
reported of him he appears as having regarded it as a dis-
courtesy to the giver to pass negligently over any of his
gifts,and as having rather followed them up and enjoyed
1
the delight of them as long as they were granted.
This enjoyment, however, as would be expected from
what has been said above, was, so to speak, private. As
he would cover his face with the sleeve of his habit if a state
of prayer came on him in the presence of the brethren, so
he would try always to appear as if nothing had happened
after his private devotions. It is probably impossible for
the inexperienced mind to conceive the sweetness of those
devotions, or the ineffable relation which was established
between St. Francis and God: his sufficient to know
it is

that he came out from them almost changed into another

man, and that he did his best to seem like the other people
with whom he mixed. For as his strongest and most per-
sistent conviction was that the glory of spiritual consolation
was to God, so he regarded it, in common with all else, as a
fit
subject of offering, and he would instruct his brethren
to return it to the God from Whom it came in untainted

purity. To attach themselves to it,

by desire or egotism,
1
Celano, ii, 95 ; Bonaventure, x, 2.

263
 St. Francis of Assist
was to rob the treasure of God. Concurrently with this
went the feeling of his own unworthiness to receive such
favours. Looking at himself and realizing the measure in
which he fell short of perfection, he was overcome by his
unfitness to be made a partaker of the divine mysteries, and
the consolations and benedictions he received were a
source of sincere and undisguised amazement to him.
"
Had the Most High shewn such favours unto a robber,"
"
he was wont to say to himself, he would have been better
pleasing than thou, Francis," and to a brother who had had
a vision of him glorified in the company of the saints he
"
said: If any man, howsoever guilty, had received such
mercy from Christ as I, I verily think he would have been
far more acceptable unto God than I." 1 He considered,
that it befitted him better to defer the
accordingly, recep-
tion of the gifts of God to a later stage when they would
be more consonant with his condition, and he would
"
therefore pray: Lord, take from me Thy good in this
world, that Thou mayst keep it for me hereafter." And
he instructed his brethren, epitomizing his whole position,
that when they had received some new grace in prayer, they
"
should say before coming out into the world again: O
Lord, Thou hast sent this consolation and sweetness from
heaven to me, an unworthy sinner, and I restore it to Thee
thatThou mayst keep it for me, for that I am a robber of
Thy treasure." 2
Thus did St. Francis in his own case avoid being puffed
up by his experiences, and aid his companions to do the
same both by precept and example. But it was not only
in respect of divine visitations that he avoided pride : he
taught that the more good a man did the greater must be
3
his abasement in his own eyes. The same attitude is

1
Bonaventure, vi, 3, 6; Celano, ii, 123, 133,
2
Celano, ii, 99 ; Bonaventure, x, 4.
3
Admonition 1 2 (Writings^ p. 1 3).
364
 Sf. Francis of Assist
shown in one of the additions to the Primitive Rule that
was concerned with the brothers' preaching. He besought
them in the charity which God is, that they should one and
all make every effort to avoid glorying or rejoicing or
inwardly exalting themselves on account of any good words
or works, or in effect for any good, which God might from
time to time say or do by them, and he recommended to
"
them the saying of Christ: Rejoice not in this, that
1
spirits are subject unto you." With this teaching may be

compared an incident in his own life which is contained in

one of the later accounts. A
man who is described as a
very perverse leper complained bitterly of the attempts of
the brethren to help him, on the ground that they did not
fulfil their office properly. St. Francis therefore offered
i

his own services, and after being nursed by him with

infinite care the leper was cured. Whereat St. Francis
went away at once to another part of the country, because
he felt that by staying in the neighbourhood some of the
glory of the cure might attach to him; whereas he was
conscious in his own mind that the honour was due to God,
and anxious that it should be attributed to Him alone. 2
So did St. Francis labour to be faithful to the promptings
of the spirit of all love which does not, and cannot by its
very nature, vaunt itself. His method was to practise
voluntarily what he desired should become part of his
nature and was typical of that which was always his aim,
and in the end it is not difficult to understand that love
became literally a second nature and that he lived in accord-
ance with its dictates. He aimed at stamping out pride in
every aspect of his life, and succeeded even in that most
difficult, because most subtle, region of spiritual experience.
1
First Rule, chap, xvii (Writings, p. 50).
' a
Little Flowers, xxv.

.265
 Chapter Thirteen
IT IS PART OF THE ESSENTIAL
JINCE that seeks no reward, of any kind, from
it
jlove
Sany source, there must arrive at some moment in
[the mystic's progress a point at which -he will not
merely disregard the possibility of a return from man (even
as the agent of God), but will be disinterested also in a
more fundamental sense. Though in action God is loved
in man and man in God, a more direct, if a more abstract,

conception must enter into the mind. There is a view

straight from the individual to God as the Being finally
loved and as the ultimate Giver from whom all gifts come,
but from whom they are not asked. He is loved in trans-
cendence as well as in immanence, and the mystic's love
for Him must be in both cases of one character as regards
any desire for a reward.
To attain to such disinterestedness is evidently one of the
hardest tasks, the mystic can set himself. There must be
no question of supporting present hardships in the hope
of a future prize in the way of peace; no question of an
immediate sacrifice in the expectation of an ultimate exalta-
tion. The hardship has to be borne and the sacrifice made
in a spirit of perfect love for the God who is conceived by
him as finally their source, and in the unshaken conviction
that they constitute a necessary cleansing to which he
would not have been subjected if his condition had not
demanded it. Though the fact that the result of sacrifice
is
peace may be present to his consciousness, it must not be
made the subject of any calculation when the opportunity
266
 St. Francis of Assist
"
of sacrifice is given. It becomes a fact of experience to
"
those who truly live," it has been said, that not only must
we give up all in order to obtain all, but that we must do so
before we attain to any assurance that such will be our
"
reward. Where, otherwise, would"
be the sacrifice ?
And again, to the same effect: Reject the foul smoke,
and it will be forced back on you as pure flame. But this
you cannot- believe, until you have rejected it without
1
thought of reward." In so far as the mystic succeeds in
doing this he escapes the accusation of being a spiritual
Epicurean, because the ultimate pleasure is not taken into
consideration, and it is only in so far as he does it that he
can be regarded as a true and sincere mystic.
All else but this is a form of egotism, It may be veiled
i

under many appearances of sanctity, but however ingenious

the disguise it is possessed of an inherent subtlety which
enables it to creep in where it is least suspected. Any
position is tainted with it which permits, in however remote
or unconscious a manner, the idea of a spiritual profit and
loss account, wherein the trials of this life are balanced by
the gains of the next so that the present existence is ruled
according to the method which shows the largest profit in
a future one. And this remains true in spite of the frankly
mercenary tone of a great deal of Christian writing that is
more or less strongly tinged with mysticism. It is true of
all forms of life, whether
they be active or contemplative
or a compound of both.
It is to the contemplative life that belongs more especially
the whole series of mystical phenomena. The reasons for
not desiring them have already been considered they are :

regarded as dangerous because they are peculiarly open

to delusion and because their reception may incline to an
inflation of self-hood. But more fundamentally than this
1 "
Coventry Patmore,
*' The Rod, the Root, and the Flower (Aurea
Diffa, Ixxv and xv).
267
 St. Francis of Assist
they are not to be desired because to do so is to look for a
reward, and the love which should .be the motive does not
seek its own. The one necessary thing, according to St.
Teresa, is that the personal will should be renounced and
the will of God followed in all things: if this be accom-
plished, union with God is reached, and any other more
wonderful form of union (including such supernatural
gifts as the suspension of the powers of the soul) is un-
necessary. Its chief value, in fact, if reached, lies in the
resignation of the will it implies, and St. Teresa adds that
there are many other ways for a soul to arrive at the
Mansion of which she is speaking than by the short cut of
supernatural suspension of the faculties.
l
On reading her
writings it
may appear that St. Teresa is not quite irre-
proachable in her attitude towards possible recompenses,
and there are passages in which she agrees without protest
with the ecclesiastical tendency to set up a scheme of
spiritual rewards as a lure to the multitude. But in others
and in them she seems to be speaking more surely with
her own voice she makes up for all her shortcomings in
"
this respect. She pours all her scorn on those who sue
God for His own money," and says with admirable finality
that she is sure that those who imagine that they deserve
any kind of spiritual consolation because they have given
themselves to prayer for many years, will never attain to
2
spiritual perfection. The worshipper may not think that,
since he has given so much time to reflection and medita-
tion on the splendour of God, he has therefore any right
to demand in natural justice that some gleam of the
light
of that splendour shall in return shine out on him. St.
. Teresa's prayer was that so inestimable a gift as the love of
God should not be given to any who served Him simply
because of the sweetness they found in so doing, and she
1
The Interior Castle, Fifth Mansion, chap, iii, 3-5.
2
Life, chap, xxxix, 21.
268
 St. Francis of Assist
proceeds with counsel for those who are beginning to use
the way of mental prayer. If they are doing so with
resolution, and are determined not to care much, either as
a matter for exaltation or depression, whether sweetness
be met with therein or not, they have already accomplished
a large part of the journey. 1 St. John of the Cross gives
"
a similar warning in a section devoted to Imperfections
in respect of Spiritual Gluttony." He is speaking of the
beginners who find relish in spiritual exercises, and says
that many of them, being spoilt by such relish, aim at
gratifying the spiritual palate rather than at acquiring true
purity and devotion, which is that which is looked for and
accepted by God during the entire spiritual journey. He
regards the deprivation of such delight^ as necessary for
spite of extremities of penance and mor-
their safety, for in
2
tification, such people are following their own will only.
Molinos speaks in the same strain. There are many, he
says, who seek God without finding Him because they are
"
impelled more by curiosity than by a pure intention : they
rather desire spiritual comforts than God Himself," with
the result that they find neither. Detachment must be
complete, not only from temporal things but from the
very gifts of the Holy Spirit, from the desire for super-
natural, as for natural, goods. He
explains that many souls
failto attain to the Divine Wisdom in spite of the fact that
they spend many hours in prayer and receive the Sacrament
daily, simply because they have not been able to rid them-
selves of attachment in one form or another yet it is only :

when this is done that the soul is clothed in that Nothing-

ness wherein God is all in all to the soul. To attach oneself
"
to the
gifts of the Spirit is to come out from the centre of
Nothingness, and thus the whole Work is spoiled." 3
1
Life, chap, xi, 19-20. Cf. chap, xv, 18.
2
The Dark Night of the Soul, pp. 55 et seq.
3
Molinos, The Spiritual Guide, book iii, chap. xviii> xix, xx.

269
 St. Francis of Assist
Scaramelli, basing himself on the general testimony of the
mystics, is for ever insisting on the need for purity of
intention and the folly of becoming attached to consolations
received in prayer, and he regards one of the great results
of the sensible purgation as being the fact that it impels the
soul to seek not its own will but that of God, and to do
good, not for the delight that is to be extracted from it, but
from pure love of the good. 1 He warns spiritual directors
not to hold out the prospect of consolations to any of their
penitents who may be undergoing this purgation, because
they should not suffer in the hope of spiritual favours but
simply support their difficulties for the sake, of God, with-
out expectation of reward in the present life. 2 The
Theologia Germanica is no less emphatic. Speaking of those
who " are enlightened with the true light," the author says
"
that they are in a state of freedom, because they have lost
the fear of pain or hell, and the hope of reward or heaven,
but are living in pure submission to the Eternal Goodness,
"
in the perfect freedom of perfect love." And again, It is
indeed true, that it is good for a man that he should desire,
or come by his own good. But this cannot come to pass so
long as a man is seeking, or purposing his own good; for
if he is to find and come by own highest good, he must
his
3
lose it that he may find it." Thus the life of contemplation
1
II Direttorio Mistito, V, v, 46. Cf. II, vi, 65, and I, ii, zz.
2
Ibid., V, xi, 128.
3
Theologia. Germanica, chap, x and chap. xL See also chap, xxxiv :

" For a man's

highest good would be and truly is, that he should not
seek himself nor his own things, nor be his own end in any respect,
either in things spiritual or things natural, but should seek only the
praise and glory of God and His holy will"; chap, xxxviii : (of the
Christ life) "This life is not chosen in order to serve any end, or to
get anything by it, but for love of its nobleness, and because God
" " So
loveth and esteemeth it so greatly ; and chap, xliv : long as a man
seeketh his own will and his own highest Good, because it is Ais, and
for his own sake, he will never find it ; for so long as he doeth this, he
is not seeking his own highest Good, and how then should he find it ?

270
 St. Francis of Assist
which is aimed at obtaining the ineffable delights of com-
munion with God, for the sake of those delights and not for
the sake of God, is foredoomed to failure.
But the contemplative is not the only method of life to
which this principle applies. The life of activity, or that
which is in part active and in part contemplative, has also
to be directed on similar lines by the mystic for whom all
other desires fade before his overpowering desire for God.
The thousand and one details of annihilation which, when
it is dedicated to this one end,
comprise such a life, must all
be embraced without thought of recompense at any time
or in any manner. Poverty is not followed by striking a
bargain according to the terms of which the present penury,
however willingly accepted, is balanced against the promise
of future wealth, for its essential spirit of detachment would
be nullified by such a conception. Obedience is not a
temporary diplomatic arrangement by virtue of which the
power of unlimited command will be eventually gained, for
that which in the last analysis obeys has, in the end, to be
utterly suppressed. Chastity and all the scale of self-
control are not aimed at freedom for the sake of the ease
and lightness it brings with it, but at enabling God to be
manifested more fully when the indrawing desires of the
lower self are done away with. To forgo some satisfaction
is not therefore for the
mystic a method by which, according
to a perverse psychological reaction, that which is forgone
will return on him increased by his disdain for it: there
can be no ulterior idea of attraction by contempt if his
attitude be sincere. Nor will his sacrifices be converted

For so long as this, he seeketh himself

he doeth . . But whosoever
.

seeketh, loveth, and pursueth Goodness as Goodness and for the sake of
Goodness, and make th that his end, for nothing but the love of Good-
ness, not for love of the I, Me, Mine, self, and the like, he will find
the highest Good, for he seeketh it aright, and they who seek it other-
wise do err."
271
 St. Francis of Assist
into a species of barter, by any obscure casuistry of the
reason: virtue will not even be its own reward for him,
if that reward connote
any idea of self-satisfaction in feeling
that he has been virtuous, for that of all positions is most
diametrically opposed to his ideal of self-abasement. The
reward of virtue will be, in fact, the glory that accrues to
God thereby: that, and no more and no less, will be his
purpose and his satisfaction.
On his own hypothesis there will remain to him one
all-embracing desire when all the rest have been consecu-
tively suppressed as sources of action. His desire for God
will not decrease with his other desires, but increase, it may
well be, in direct proportion to their suppression: can it
then be maintained that his attempt to replace the personal
by the universal will is in any sense complete or sincere ?
The answer is that his desire for God must cease to be a
personal desire before it can be satisfied. For it to be
personal it would, of necessity, seek a recompense for its
sacrifices the body would seek payment even for its
tears, as St. Francis expressed it but in so far as it does
not seek such a return, it may be taken to stand for some-
thing other than a remote and bizarre manifestation of
self-seeking. It is quite clear that the
personal will, as
being the expression of the desires of the lower self, cannot
make of its own accord for a state in which it will no longer
have a separate existence. Man's desire for God, that is,
must be God-given it is the heritage of the spirit seeking
again its source. To the extent to which he gives ear to its
calling and obedience to its instigations, the mystic will
pass into its knowledge, and to the knowledge of God.
His part is permissive towards the spirit, but unremittingly
active in opposition to the lower self, and the spirit can only
become actual to him as the lower self becomes increasingly
unreal and powerless. To suggest, therefore, that his
motives are those of an exalted type of self-seeking is to
272
 St. Francis of Assis i
misunderstand the foundation of his position; his desire
for God is the desire of like calling to like and his own
identification of himself with that call by striking out all of
himself that opposes it it is not the finite trying to embrace
;

infinity, but a breaking down of the boundaries by which

its finiteness is constituted so that the infinite may flow
in and possess it.

It is for this reason thatthe search for a reward is so

fatal. on the supposition that man can possess God,
It rests
whereas in effect the highest thing is that man may be
possessed by God. And it may be asked in passing whether
the instinctive and occasionally passionate insistence on the
continuance of personal identity indefinitely, even when the
far unity with God has been achieved, be not traceable to a

highly subtilized and deeply rooted egotism. Union is the

meeting of two separated things which continue in some
sense apart and personal but unity ? If God be in fact
all in all, where is the room for the
separate personality that
is the dearest
possession of thousands ? The position
seems to approach dangerously near that in which the chief
idea is the enjoyment of God, forgetting that while such
enjoyment is possible the man is still apart from That with
which it is the end of his existence to be one.
But to confine this unmercenary attitude to this life
alone is obviously impossible. Merely to defer the reward
to a future existence would be to attempt to make good a
childish deception. It would be equivalent to declaring a
thing non-existent because it is invisible, and instead of
destroying the acquisitive and egotistical tendency of the
lower self, would increase it beyond all bounds under a
veil of present disinterestedness. The intensity with which
the future reward is insisted on will, in most cases, increase
with the distance of it: as it recedes into the mists of the
future, it will be clung to as the ultimate compensation
after the immediate tyranny is overpast, as the one desper-
273 s
 St. Francis of Assist
ate hope of justice. The I which desires it will be as much,
ifnot more, tainted with self-centredness than the I which
seeks to-morrow the reward for its virtue of to-day, and
the fact that the reward is spiritual will not decrease but
increase the degree of egotism. For it cannot be main-
tained that to exchange a temporal benefit for the kingdom
of heaven is a conspicuous example of humility: it is
perhaps more than anything a matter of comparative values
rather than of pure love.
But the sublimity of such a view of complete disinter-
estedness has unfitted it for general use. The Churches
have realized that if
they were to offer it commonly to their
members as the final truth it would
appeal to next to none
and dismay myriads. They have therefore preferred to
make just this deferment of the final recompense, while
insisting with the necessary emphasis on the fact that
temporal compensations are not to be taken into considera-
tion when any question is being weighed. The joys of
Paradise are their lure: they may be for their members a
sufficient reason for sacrifice. And in deferring their
reward the Churches would produce in them a preparatory
annihilation of the lower self which would fit them for all
but the last great renunciation the denial of the claims
of the self that has denied all lesser claims. They would be
purified of all other self-centred desires, and might be
conceived as ready to learn the necessity for that also.
But with the negative teaching of many Churches as to the
possibility of progress after death there is no place for
speculation as to this last renunciation being made by those
who have not made it a part of realization in the present
life.
Yet in spite of this there are traces in mystical literature
of a disinterestedness which extends beyond the grave.
Some have cried out with Job in the extremity of his
"
anguish: Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him,"
274
 St. Francis of Assist
and have contemplated with unaltered love a death which
was not the gate of life. Angela of Foligno had a vision
on one occasion in which she saw herself finally damned,
and explained afterwards, when the vision had passed,
that she was in no way disturbed by the thought of her
damnation, but concerned only with the horror of having
done anything displeasing to God. 1 She was not concerned,
that is, with even the ultimate reward: she made no claim
other than to continue in her love. A similar point of view
is to be found in a
story told of himself by Tauler, though
as it is given the attitude is not attributed to him. He had
prayed for many years to meet someone who should teach
him the essence of the spiritual life, and finally heard a
voice directing him to go to a certain church where he
would find the director he was seeking. When he got to
the church he found a remarkably ragged beggar sitting by
"
the door, to whom he bade Good-day." The* beggar
answered that he did not remember ever having had a bad
one, or, further, ever having been unhappy, and explained
that he had accepted whatever fortune had been sent to
him not only with resignation, but by praising and glorify-
ing God for it. He had schooled himself to will what God
willed without reserve, and he took whatever came with
gladness. On hearing this, Tauler asked him what he
would say if he should be damned, and received the answer
"
that if such should be the will of God he would embrace
our Lord with humility and with love," and cling so closely
to Him that he would draw Him even into hell with him.
Hell with Him was a greater thing than heaven without
Him he cared nothing for suffering if his love were ful-
:

2
filled. such cases as these that show at any rate the
It is

possibility of a disinterested love, however rare be its

1
Quoted by Scaramelli, op. "/., V, xvii, 173.
2
See St. Alphonsus Liguori, Conformity with' the Will of God^ edition
of 1844, pp. H. X
5-

275
 St. Francis of Assist
profession or those who are capable even of understanding
its
possibility.
The
question of Pure Love is one that disturbed the
harmony of the Church to a surprising extent at the end
of the seventeenth century. In his incomparable work on
mysticism Baron von Hugel has traced the conception
from the beginnings of Christianity up till the end of that
discussion, with a wealth of learning and considerable
lucidity of exposition. The Jewish tendency to construct a
detailed scale of rewards seems to have been taken over
unchanged in the teaching of the Gospels, on the principle
that the labourer is worthy of his hire, and that it is better
to lay up treasures in heaven than upon earth; and yet
gradually the reward assumes such an aspect of dispropor-
tion when compared with the effort that it can no longer
be considered as dependent on it. Thus, as in the parable
of the labourers who were paid the same price irrespective
of the amount of their work, it is the freedom of giving the
reward which is insisted upon: the divine recompense
operating on standards different from those of the world.
The labourers were rebuked because they thought they
deserved more: they were given what it was good that
they should be given. With St. Paul this took the form
"
of grace." Side by side with the traditional Jewish
teaching of man being rewarded according to his acts is the
new conception of work done irrespective of reward the
pure and untrammelled love of which St. Paul chanted the
splendour as no one has done before or since.
Later, in the controversy which was spoken of, the main
disputants were Fenelon and Bossuet, around whom the
theological world was divided into two camps of which the
side that was concerned to deny the possibility of acts of
Pure Love does not appear to have manifested any aspect
or degree of love whatever in the discussion. The point
which Fenelon succeeded in carrying, despite the original
276
 Sf. Francis ofAssisi
condemnation of his Explication des Maximes des Saints sur
was that acts of Pure Love were possible
la- Vie Interieure^
and commendable. The condemnation of his book was in
part due to a lack of clearness in his method of presenting
his position, and in part because his teaching of the possi-
bility of a slate of Pure Love brought him dangerously into
touch with the teachings of the Quietists, As to the first
point he elucidated his meaning in a series of. writings
extending over some fifteen years, which were finally
accepted as orthodox in spite of the .efforts of his opponents
to secure their condemnation. The belief in the possibility
of acts of Pure Love is supported by the opinions of St.
Thomas Aquinas, who quite clearly states that there are
two and an imperfect* 'The former is that
loves, a perfect
with which a man, and a fortiori God, is loved for his own
sake: the latter that with which he is loved in order that
some good may accrue to the lover. The former alone is
"
love in its strict sense: God alone is man's ultimate end,
and beatitude is only ... an end in immediate proximity to
the ultimate end." But beyond merely allowing the exist-
ence of .Pure Love, St. Thomas agrees that acts of it may
be done in this life, and they will increase as the soul
advances in perfection. They may, however, be not solely
acts inwhich Pure Love alone is exercised: beside these
there may be acts which are informed by Pure Love, but
bear also the characteristics of other acts. Pure Love is
thus conceived as being able to be either the sole or the
partial motive, but in any case to be that part of the act
which is
supremely meritorious.
As to the secondpoint, it is not necessary for the present
purpose to consider closely the connection between Quiet-
ism and the state of Pure Love. It is admitted that the
early Fathers considered such a state possible. Clement
of Alexandria divided the faithful into Mercenaries and
Friends or Children; St. Basil and St. Gregory into the
277
 Si. Francis of Assist
three classes of Slaves, Mercenaries, and Friends or Chil-
dren, of whom St. Basil said that the first class obeyed God
through fear of punishment, the second through hope of
recompense, and the third from sheer love. There is no
doubt at all that these Fathers were not referring to single
acts but to whole states of Pure Love. But it is said that
the Church wisely ordained that these three classes should
not be regarded as distinguished so sharply as to compel
any person to seem to belong exclusively to any one of
them: at the most, any one of the three states was to
represent only the predominant and not the sole type of
act constituting the soul's state. For it is maintained that
it is
impossible for there to be a condition of soul composed
solely of acts of Pure Love, and it is in this connection
that the relation with Quietism is dangerously apparent.
The accusation brought against the Quietists was that they
taught the possibility of an act once performed continuing
unbroken through life, 1 and the conception of a state of
Pure Love suggested, if it were not equivalent to, this
doctrine of the One Act. But the state of Pure Love
is not discarded because it involves any type of Quietism,
but because, in spite of its recognition as a high and holy
2
state, it is not attainable in this life.
The Catholic fear is apparently that by permitting such a
state of perfection to be conceived as possible for humanity,
it
may allow that humanity to get very distinctly out of
hand. It might become convinced that even venial sins
were impossible for it, that the state was continuous and
unbroken, and that being untainted by any motive other
than the highest it was beyond correction or reproof. The
1
Molinos, The Spiritual Guide, book i, chaps, xiii, xiv.
2
See Baron von Hiigel, The Mystical Element in Religion, vol. ii,
pp. 152-81,
of part of which the above pages are to a large extent a
condensation, for an admirable discussion of the whole question and of
some related problems.
278
 Francis ofAssist
author who has been quoted is apprehensive that a slate
of Pure Love, if possible as the early Fathers conceived it to
"
be, would involve the neglect of numberless other virtues
and duties," and he fears the fanaticism of thinking that
1
it could be attained before death. But whether in fact
it have ever been fully attained or not, whether certain of

the saints at the supreme periods of their lives have or have

not reached it, it does not seem impossible at any rate to
conceive of a slate wherein the love for God is so continuous
and so strong that it is the one and only motive for all
actions. Granted that self-seeking and self-interest of any
kind have been finally rooted out at a certain stage upon the
journey, it would seem that the love of God for His own
sake might well so fill the whole conscious life as to leave
no room for any other consideration. It is, further, not
only that the motive would be Pure Love, but that all acts
of no matter what kind would be done as acts of Pure Love.
To the onlooker they might well appear to be compounded
of other and lesser elements to the doer they would be
:

elevated into a sphere wherein the love of God was the only
"
thing existent, and the numberless other virtues and
"
duties would become part of it. They would be done for
love because love was the only thing left in life the
beginning and the meaning and the end of everything. Is
other conclusion if the assertions of the
any possible mystics
themselves be accepted, that at a certain time their will was
one with the will of God ? The Unitive state is nothing
other than this the Perfect Union, as St. Teresa has said,
2
is
complete conformity with the will of God and, on the
1
See Baron von Hiigel, The Mystical Element in Religion, vol. ii,

p. 167.
See above, p. 268. The view is, of course, common to practically
2

all the mystics, but it may be interesting to instance a statement made

" When I
by St. John of the Cross : speak of the union of the soul with
God I ... mean . . . that union and transformation of the soul in
God by love which is only then accomplished when there subsists the
279
 St. Francis of Assisi
assumption of the mystics, that will is the very essence of
Pure Love. How, then, at such a time can the state be
anything except a slate of Pure Love ? The words of
Julian of Norwich can receive no other interpretation if :

the human and divine parts of man are conceived as being

"
oned in bliss M1 such oneing must represent an actual fact
or else be discarded as a pious fancy altogether, and if it
represent a fact, it musl be a fact of Pure Love.
And if such a slate be attainable it is surely immaterial
whether it continue unbroken for always as it would in
the Spiritual Marriage. Short of that it may end for a
thousand and one reasons by any of the means by which
a thought other than of love was allowed to enter the con-
sciousness and become identified with the will but if it
be possible it musl remain as an ideal towards which the
mystic will strive. It will not be a One-Act state, but a state
of repeated acts in one unvarying direction a variety of
figures, as it were, fashioned in the one divine medium.
It is obviously applicable to the rewards of a future life
as to those of the present one, and the author of a commen-
tary on St. Thomas sums up the position beyond dispute.
" "
We may not," he says, love God in view of reward in
suchwise as to make eternal life the true and ultimate
end of our love, or to love God because of it, so that without
reward we would not love Him. must love God
. . . We
with reference to the eternal reward in suchwise that we
put forth indeed both love and good works in view of such
beatitude in so far as the latter is the end proposed to
those works by God Himself; yet that we subordinate
which love begets." " takes when two
likeness It effeft wills, the will
of God and the will of the soul, are conformed together, neither desiring
aught repugnant to the other. Thus the soul, when it shall have driven
away from itself all that" is contrary to the divine will, becomes trans-
formed in God by love (The Ascent of Mount Carmel, book ii, chap, v,
sec. 3).
1
Revelations of Divine Love, chap. xix.
280
 *SV. Francis of Assist
this our beatitude to the love of God as the true and ulti-
"
mate end," so that, if we had no beatitude to expect at
all, we should nevertheless still love Him and execute good
works for His sake alone. In this manner, we shall first
love God above all
things and for His own sake; and we
shall nextkeep the eternal reward before us, for the sake of
God and of His honour." x The end of this quotation leaves
no doubt that even eternal salvation is only to be willed
because presumably God wills it it is to be desired
neither for its own sake nor for the sake of man, but for the
sake of God and His honour. And inasmuch as it is
dependent on the overcoming of the lower self, it results
from and is in accordance with the desire of the spirit as
distinct therefrom.
only to the nature that is to a great extent heroit.
It is
that such acts and such a state will appear and persist as
ideals, but heroism is a condition of
sanctity and the con-
ception appeals naturally to those whose mysticism is a
pure and living force. Such natures are not, perhaps,
common, for they presuppose a breadth of character, a
generosity, almost a quixotism, which are the fruit of much
experience and a high dedication, but their occasional
existence is, fortunately for humanity, beyond doubt. It is
they who will echo the words of St. John of the Cross that
"
an instant of pure love is more precious to God and the
soul, and more profitable to the Church than all other good
works together, though
2
it
may seem as if nothing were
done," because in such an instant they have given rein
to the highest part of their natures, and been active therein
and therewith without admixture of the lower. To others
1
Quoted by Baron von Hiigel, op. fit., vol. ii, p. 167. The com-
mentary is
by Sylvius.
2
Quoted by Coventry Patmore, The Rod, the Root, and the Flower
(Aurea Di8a, xxxi). Cf. The Ascent of Mount Carme\ book ii, chap,
xxii, sec. 18.
28l
 St. Francis of Assisi
the ideal must seem for ever impossible at most the faint
dream of an unpractical mysticism, at least an unattractive
parody of human emotions. It is, perhaps, hardly to be
expected that it will appeal to the typically Protestant mind
or to any age or country to which, for the most part, the
spirit of commercialism is second nature, but though as an
ideal it may suffer eclipse, it can never be extinguished.
"
Fenelon's great statement of the extreme position that it
"
is
only pure love that loves to suffer has been stigmatized
of recent years as fundamentally Stoical or Buddhistic with
an emotional turn added to it, and the whole doctrine of
"
Pure Love has been said to demand from us an impossible
degree of detachment and renunciation."
1
On the suppo-
sition that it is a question of human love (which by its
nature demands something in return for all it gives) this
is evident enough, but if the love of which Fenelon and his
co-thinkers spoke were indeed the love that does not seek
its own, it would appear that what, to some, now appears an
impracticable ideal is in reality not only possible, but
finally necessary of attainment.
But though the mystic's life be not aimed at mystical
experience as in any sense a reward, such experience is the
result of his contemplation or his self-suppression, whether
it come in the form of such
phenomena as ecstasies, visions,
and locutions, or in the more subtle form of a widening of
the consciousness from which all such phenomena are
absent. And as no experience is an isolated event, but
brings in its train a definite alteration in the
person who
undergoes it, whether it be so marked as to be self-evident

or so subtle as to appear non-existent, so the transcendent

experience of the mystic may be expected to work some
real change in him. If it be in reality so tremendous as is

reported, it
may be expected that the alteration which is its
1
W. R. Inge, D.D., Christian Mysticism, Ledlure VI, pp. 24.1, 242,
of the second edition.
282
 St. Francis of Assist
result will be evident on a little consideration, and that the
nature of that alteration should be susceptible of state-
ment. Further, as the changes of which man's conscious-
ness is capable are continuous, so that he is never the same
to-day as he was yesterday, and as they are unlimited in
variety and direction, it is desirable to arrive at some
criterion by which those that result from genuine myslical
experience may be judged.
In the firs! place as to the result. If that which is, by
the hypothesis, the nature of the experience be borne in
mind, its effecl: will not be far to seek. The experience
results from the consciousness having been purged of the
tendencies which have been called lower, in that they are
personal and indrawn, arid being filled with the opposite
tendencies that are essentially outflowing. The desire to
replace the former by the latter cannot come from the
lower part, as it would be a move towards self-destruction :

it emanates from the

spiritual part and is an instigation
to the soul to return from its exile. The experience consists
in the entry of the spirit into the consciousness, in a greater
or less degree according to the perfection with which the
preparation has been made. The conclusions of mystical
theology go to show that such an entry is far from always
permanent: it
may persist for a short time and then fade;
it
may come only as a flash, yet illuminate the whole
universe as it may vary in acuteness and vivid-
does so; it
ness from being equivalent to a mere glimmer to being
equivalent to the full light of the sun ; or finally, it may
become so part of the consciousness as never to be entirely
absent from it. In this lasT: case, which is the Spiritual
Marriage, it is always possible to enter into the full con-
sciousness of the spirit by withdrawing all attention from
other objects, and it is this permanence of consciousness
which is the distinguishing mark of the slate.
Now, again by the hypothesis, the outstanding char-
283
 St. Francis of Assisi
acterislics of the spirit are two, which, two are nevertheless
but aspects of each other. The spirit is conceived as being
universal, in the sense that nothing is outside of it: by its
very nature is
it
all-comprehensive. Its antithesis is
division. not arrived at by adding unit to unit, but by
It is

penetrating to a plane where separateness is impossible,

and there is therefore nothing to remain outside, because
spirit is all. Secondly, and as an aspect of this univer-
sality, the spirit is essentially love love as an outgoing
force which is all-embracing: again there is nothing to
tand outside it on its own plane, because it is all, and its
direction is out towards, and not in from, all that is outside
its
plane. In neither case is there in it any idea of self.
Spiritual love and universality are therefore practically
interchangeable terms the love of the spirit is universal,
and the universality of the spirit is founded on love. The
mystical experience itself being the entry of the spirit into
the consciousness for a longer or shorter period, and with
greater or less fullness, the result of it will be the participa-
tion by the consciousness in these its characteristics.
The manner in which this participation will work out in
the life of the mystic is fairly evident in its main lines.
Speaking generally, it will
bring with it a considerable
increase in the force which he can apply to the spiritual or
mystical work. It will mean an accretion of strength, an
additional vitality, a wider comprehension; and all this
because that which has come to him has been a force of
love. For the foundation of his work is love, and the whole

sl:rucl:ure love : as it is to the extent to which he has

of it is

allowed it to enter into and direcl: his life that he has been
opened up to the inflowing of the spirit, so does the inflow-
ing of the spirit bring with it an immeasurable increase of
love. The process is, in a sense, in a circle, only that which
comes in indefinitely greater than that which made the
is

preparation, though they are both love. The one increases

284
 St. Francis ofAssist
the other, and that again opens up the way to the first,
till in the end there is
nothing else in the consciousness but
love. But that is a state above present comprehension,
for the love is not the small and tainted emotion of hu-
manity, but incomparably strong and incomparably pure.
It is easily conceivable that the influx of this power into a
.life will affect it in all its details. The fact that it brings
with an enormously increased vitality might seem in
it

some way to lay open the recipient to a certain danger, in

that vitality of itself brings no assurance that it will work
for the universal, rather than for the personal for God,
rather than the self. But if indeed this be a danger, it is
very greatly lessened by the fact that the influx will increase
only in proportion as the self-seeking tendencies diminish.
It is to the mystic who has
practically abolished them that
the increased force will come in anything approaching its
fulness, though it may come to him then in a measure that
would be the ruin of one whose dedication was less secure.
The supreme sinner as he is generally accepted is admittedly
an individual of tremendous force, but it may be questioned
whether he ever reach the degree of power of the saint
whose source is spiritual, and also whether he be not a
great deal nearer sanctity than he is generally given credit
for being. But with his dedication the mystic or the saint
-

can receive the vitality not only unharmed, but with his
effectiveness immensely increased. It will not only
manifest in the fervour of his love for God in the moments
of his prayer; it will not only send him back to contempla-
tion with an overpowering passion of adoration; but,
since there is no love for God apart from a love for the God
in man, it will show also in his exterior actions and his
relations with the world. The
love which pulsates within
him will urge him to strive for universality in all his acti-
vities as inevitably as a river runs to the sea, and he will be,

according to the depth of his experience, instinft with love

.285
 St. Francis of Assisi
in its fulness. There can be for him no fear, no hanging
back, for he is
utterly secure in the knowledge the know-
ledge of experience that God works in him. It is not
then surprising that he will face the most appalling situa-
tion with amazing calmness, that he will hurl himself into
the thick of no matter what combat, that he will neither
tremble nor turn before the most stupendous risks. He
can be no longer impelled or hindered by the considera-
tions which hold good for humanity at large, for with the
experience of the spirit life, has undergone a revaluation.
Having touched Reality, illusion has no longer any power.
[^The result of the experience will be, then, to increase the
mystic's strength for the work of his life, and it is this which
will distinguish it from the psychic disturbances and pro-
ducts with which it might be confounded if it came by way
of phenomena. It will be remembered that these do not
produce or necessarily evidence sanctity, though they may
sometimes accompany it. And again, as love increases, so
will increase the energy of the struggle to annihilate the
lower self. This, in all its ramifications, is the groundwork
of the mystic, because on it depends the reception of that
other power, the knowledge of that other self, which brings
all his effectiveness into action. And that effectiveness he
knows, in the last analysis, to be God's.
In examining the result of mystical experience the
criterion has been found by which the changes which result
from it may be judged. The result is the criterion there
is no other ground on which to decide whether or not they

may be regarded as having been caused by a genuine

mystical experience. If the result be that increase of
vitality in the direction of universality that has been spoken
of, founded and shaped in love, ever impelling the mystic to
r
greaterTefforts at self-conquest, there is little doubt that
there has been a real contact with the spiritual part. Failing
this in one form or another the experience can scarcely be
286
 Sf. Francis of Assist
counted as an entrance of the spirit into the consciousness,
however amazing it may be or however astonishing its
results.
It has been suggested above that his experience will do
much to increase the mystic's effectiveness not only as
between him and God, but also as between him and the
world of exterior activity. But it would seem necessary to
go a step farther than this. As a result of his identification,
partial or complete, momentary or permanent, with
the
spirit,
a power enters not merely into what he does and
says, but also into what he is. The degree in which this
occurs will vary, obviously, with the depth of his experi-
ence and the intimacy with which his relation with the
spiritual part has been established. It is not to be expected
that a flash of spiritual sight will effect so much as a longer
period, or that a dim and surface realization will bring with
it so much of
lasting force as one that is more profound.
The increase of such realization is the essence of spiritual
progress: the passing experience will give way to one of
longer duration as the way to it is opened by an increase of
spiritual love and desire, and the realization will be pro-
gressively deepened. The final condition, it has been seen,
is one where there is never
any complete break between
man and God, but the consciousness of His presence per-
sists throughout, and in spite of, external activity, and can
be brought to its fulness again by putting such activity
aside. It is then of this last state that what follows will be

pre-eminently true : at all points less than this there will be

a comparative falling short.
To call the change an increase in the power of the
mystic's personality is perhaps the nearest approach to a
definition possible, but it is finally unsatisfactory because
it
suggests the idea that it is the man himself, as he is known
r
ordinarily, to whom the accretion comes. The fact evi-
dently is, on the contrary, that there is
nothing actually
287 .*...,
 St. Francis of Assisi
G.ided to the man, but that a great deal of what is lower in
him has been done away with, and a fuller and greater thing
released. It is in
proportion to the measure in which the
man himself the man as normally known to his friends,
his disciples, his companions is
put on one side and his
inclinations expelled from their place in his consciousness,
that the spirit can enter in, and as the spiritual tendencies
are substituted for the normal tendencies of humanity the
whole idea of anything personal gradually disappears.
That which comes in is instinct with the universality of
God, and it is no longer this or that mystic, this or that
saint, that is active, but God
unhindered and unsullied.
But it will always, it must inevitably, appear to the on-
looker that the particular individual is active it is
only
he himself who knows that by the nature of things it
cannot be so and the increase in the power of the mystic's
personality will therefore remain as the phrase best calcu-
lated to convey that which takes place. It may be expected,
then, that in one who has made an appreciable measure
of progress on the spiritual journey there will be exhibited
a power of authority in certain respects that will differen-
tiate him from the generality of his fellows. There will
be no self-assertive claim to command on his part, but
rather something bound up with his very existence which
is of so high a character that it will command
respect, as it
were, naturally. It may perhaps be regarded as a quite
unconscious power of impressiveness -a something inde-
finable which gives the impression of a strength and a fixity
of purpose beyond the normal, and so impresses itself
indelibly on the mind. For the mystic of some degree of
attainment will deal with the concerns of the spirit no
longer on hearsay or on intellectual grounds merely; he
will speak no longer as one whose authority is tradition,
for however high and holy that tradition may be, an appeal
to it is
always tainted to a greater or less degree with
288
 St. Francis of Assisi
academicism. stand-by of those who have heard of
It is the

and, may be, admired, but not experienced. But he will

it

speak as one having an intimate and real knowledge: in

of stores of learning and unlimited theory there will
place
be the knowledge of experience, and it is precisely this
that the typical scribes lack. They have not made the
journey themselves, and therefore have only heard of the
by-paths and the difficult places, the houses of rest and the

goal beyond. But the mystic has suffered the bitterness

of the path which leads to an impasse, and the desolation of
the valley of despair, as he has rested in the places of peace
and known, itmay be, something of the meaning of the end.
There seems no reason to suppose that this power of
authority resulting from actual knowledge is able to be
appreciated by those only who seek that knowledge them-
selves. It is not necessary to be spiritually minded, to use
a common phrase, to become conscious of it. The more
spiritual a man becomes, the more of spirit, that is, that he
allows to enter into his consciousness, the more vivid will
be his recognition of the power of attainment and the
greater his response to it. Because of the measure of
realization which he has himself, he is enabled to see a
little of the way beneath the surface of things, and know

perhaps something of the sources of the power which is

manifested around him by the mystic. But, in a less degree,
this recognition is common even to those who resent most

violently the accusation of spirituality. The spirit in-

dwells universally, urging on the most recalcitrant to the
full knowledge of itself, pulling them, dragging them
almost, hounding them on in spite of themselves. Man's
resistance is
simply the delay caused in an inexorable
process leading to an inevitable end. And it is the fact
of the spirit universally indwelling that enables a response
to be awakened by the mystic of some degree of attain-
ment even within the most improbable. The large measure
289 T
 Sf. Francis of Assist
of spirit which he manifests calls irresistibly to the spirit
in them: it is like calling to like across an infinite abyss.
And as his spirit is great, so is the power of love flowing
out therefrom in all directions around him. To the extent
in which the has been freed for action by identifica-
spirit
tion with the soul of the mystic, to such an extent the
current sets out from him the outgoing current of a
supernal love.
When all else has proved useless, is not this power of
love outflowing the one certain and irresistible force for
good ? Argument, proof, entreaty, can be met on their
own ground and combated with their own weapons : the
change of life which is essential to a knowledge of the
spirit cannot be procured by such means alone because
they fail tp touch the source of life. But against love
there is no defence. The entire revaluation which in one
sense constitutes, and in another sense follows, the redirec-
tion of purpose and desire from the lower to the higher self
from man to God is dependent on the awakening of
the spirit within, and on the permission given to it to
It is so that the
direct activity. outflowing love of the
spiritual adept touches the spirit of his hearers, and of those
with whom he comes into contact. It is not what he says
that brings them to his feet, but what he is: the love
going out from him penetrates through all the wrappings
of self-interest and beats down all the barriers of the mind,
until, touching the spirit, it calls forth as from an enchanted
sleep its purpose and its powers. It stirs to life the latent
divinity in man, it nourishes by the gift of itself the sacred
desire inseparable from that divinity, and goes
which is

with it
newly awakened love is strong
until the force of the

enough to hold unswervingly to the ultimate ideal. For

the one invincible thing in man is his desire for God,
whether it be
yet obscured, dormant, to all appearance
non-existent; dim, fitful, and vacillating; or fully aroused
290
 St. Francis of Assist
arid moving on with a Steady advance .towards its goal.
The return to the spirit is the true return of the prodigal
after years of wandering and devotion to the things that
cannot finally satisfy, but when the return is made, it is
made in the name of the whole man under the leadership
of the spirit.
So is the power which accompanies a certain degree of
attainment and emanates from him who has reached it a
power of arousing in others the enthusiasm which rules his
own life. It is not, in effeft, a gift from him to them, but a
force which compels them to realize the potentialities
latent in themselves. It is a force of spiritual vitalization
which rays out from him as inevitably and unconsciously as
light from the sun, and under its influence the divine seed
that is man's common heritage germinates, grows, flowers,
. and finally bears fruit itself.

291
 Chapter Fourteen
N THE CASE OF ST. FRANCIS THE
issue between the attitude of the mercenary who
seeks a definite reward for his pains, and that of
the friend whose obedience and service are
offered in a spirit of untainted love, is clouded to a con-
siderable extent by the circumstances of his life. He did
not, as did many of the saints, stand alone as a figure
bearing witness to the highest truths of the interior life,
nor was he the leader and spiritual adviser of a body of
men who were sheltered in their search for a common end
by the protective influence of a monastery. He was the
leader of a brotherhood whose cloister was the world, ,as
well as a man ardently seeking for his widest fulfilment in
God, and it is therefore in reference to this double character
that his pronouncements on the question of interested action
must be considered.
With regard to himself there does not seem any reason-
able doubt that he refused to enrol himself among the ranks
of the mercenaries, and definitely took his stand with those
whose service was a free gift. To his intensely chivalrous
nature it was the natural and obvious attitude: for the
perfect knight of God the purpose of all his quests would
be the glory gained for the sovereign he obeyed. It does
not seem too much to conceive this as having been the
instinctive position of St. Francis, which he attributed in
turn to his brethren and followers with his characteristic
simplicity, until he learned by sufficiently bitter experience
that another attitude was not only possible, but actually
taken by some among those he led. In the first flood of
292
THE CHURCH OF SAN FRANCESCO, ASSISI, FROM THE NORTH
face p. 292
 St. Francis of Assist
his enthusiasm, when he counted but six brethren who had
declared his purpose their own, he identified their attitude
with his own supreme disinterestedness, and took it for
granted that they were no more impelled by a desire for
gain than himself. When sending them out to preach the
peace of the spiritual life he invited them to consider their
vocation as he considered it; as being, that is, not so much
1
for their own salvation as for that of the many, and this
belief in the purpose for which he had been sent remained
with him continually. It is inconceivable that the man who
spoke with so much scorn of the body, as symbolizing the
lower part, demanding payment even for its tears, 2 should,
in his turn, succumb to the temptation of seeking a reward
for his labour, however painful it might be. For St. Francis
to have done so would have been for him an apostasy from
his most intimate ideal, which, no recorded action or saying
of his gives reason to suppose possible. He put before his
brethren, in fact, with unmistakable clearness the highest
aim which both he and they should hold before them in all
their actions. Their works should be such that God would
be praised thereby. 3 In conjunction with his expressed
belief that they had been sent into the world for the salva-
tion of the many, this counsel provides a sufficient reason
for the doing of any act, and renders impossible the con-

ception of any ultimate recompense entering "

into the con-
sideration. "In this, then, may we glory, he was in the
"
habit of saying, if we render unto the Lord the
glory that
is His due, and if, while
serving Him faithfully, we ascribe
unto Him whatsoever He giveth." 4 To anyone sincerely
trying to realize the life of the spirit there can be no con-
fusion between that which enhances the splendour of that
spirit and that which increases the power of its traditional
antagonist. If the desire be in reality for the increase of
1 a
Legend^ 36. Celano, ii, 134.
3 *
Legend, 58. Bonaventure, vi, 3.
 St. Francis of Assisi
the sway of the spirit, and this only, the conception of
reward is of necessity ruled out, because that which would
receive the reward must undergo annihilation as a condi-
tion precedent to the enlargement of the spiritual life.
Thus, to work,- in St. Francis* phrase, for the salvation of
the many, was to work for the increase of the power of the
spiritual part in those by whom he was surrounded: their
salvation, in a word, was the glory of the God who dwelt
both in him and in them.
But while his whole temperament, as it appears from his
own writings and from the writings of those who knew
him, was opposed to the entrance of the mercenary idea
into the spiritual life, and while there seems every reason
to suppose that he successfully resisted such an entrance in
his own case, there is no doubt that St. Francis, came to the
realization that a degree of disinterestedness which was

possible for him was equally impossible for all his followers
or for the world at large. It has been seen again and again
that he recognized that the condition of his brethren
demanded rules and counsels which were superfluous in his
own case, and that he was therefore compelled, in his char-
after of legislator for the brotherhood, to insist on disci-
plines of which he no longer felt the need for himself.
So in the present case it would seem that instead of pro-
claiming as vital a degree of disinterestedness which he
found them incapable of attaining, St. Francis tempered the
rigours of what he knew to be true for himself to a point
which he felt them to be capable of appreciating. The end
which he held out to them was salvation the merit of
their own souls in the first place, and in the second a
reward based on their present labour. Thus he recom-
mended that those should undertake the care of souls who
should look for nothing of their own desires therein, but be
willing to do what they felt to be the will of God in all
things: they should be such men as put nothing before
294
 St. Francis of Assist
1
their own Speaking as he evidently was of the
salvation.
more advanced among the brethren, St. Francis would in
this way seem to have considered that their own salvation
was a prize of sufficient attractiveness to induce them to
lead a life likely to ensure it, and it is not in any way
improbable that he felt that as they advanced towards their
goal they would come to realize, as he had done, that
ultimately even such a reward must be put out of the
consideration when weighing the desirability of any action.
Similarly for those who surrounded the ideal Minister-
General as he pictured him, St. Francis desired men who
sought nothing but the praise of God, the welfare of the
Order, the merit of their own souls, and the perfect health
of the brethren. 2
But while he used the welfare of their souls to attract
towards a measure of spirituality those whom he considered
open to such an influence, he went a step farther with the
two other classes of people with whom he had to deal.
To the brethren at large and to the whole world outside
the Order, St. Francis unquestionably offered the lure
of a future reward in his dealings with them. Examples
abound. Towards the end of his life, when his continual
illness laid a heavy burden of attention on his companions,
he felt that some among them were likely to complain of
the interference that such attention caused to the ordinary
method of their lives. He explained to them, therefore,
that God would return to them the fruit of their works, he
promised them that they would thereby obtain greater
profit than if they had been free to live after their ordinary
manner, and finally encouraged them by saying: "Ye
ought to say thus We will make our expense over thee,
:
'

and the Lord will be our debtor on your account.' " But
it should be noticed, in
support or the contention that

* a
(Delano, i, 104. Mirror, Ixxx.
 St. Francis of Assis i
such a promise of reward was foreign to St. Francis*
natural attitude, that Brother Leo, when describing the
scene, especially adds that St. Francis said this with the
object of raising the cowardice of their spirits, in the fear
that without some such assurance of recompense they
would become impatient and so, in reality, lose ground.
The incident is perhaps as clear an instance as can be
desired of the method employed by St. Francis in dealing
with those whom he considered unable to bear the full
measure of what he knew to be the true disinterestedness. 1
There seems no reason to disbelieve that he was actuated
by similar motives on the other occasions when an appeal
to the interests of his hearers was made. At the Chapter of
Mats in the year 1219 there was a gathering of five thousand
brethren, and it was evidently beyond all probability that
the entire number were ready to lay aside all claim to a
reward. St. Francis therefore used the language which
they would understand the best, and spoke of the great
things that they were promised a short suffering, but an
2
everlasting glory. Similarly he recommended the brethren
in the Rule of 1223 by which time he may well be
believed to have learned what could be expected from the
world, and what it was still beyond reason to hope to use
the promises of glory in reward for good and punishment
as consequent upon evil, in all their preaching to the people. 3
If this latter instance were to stand alone it might easily
be considered as showing signs of the ecclesiastical influ-
ence which was admittedly brought to bear on St. Francis
in connection with the framing of the whole of the final
Rule, but being found, as it is, in company with other
examples of a like nature which are in no way suspect, there
is no
ground for refusing to accept it as emanating from
him. For the Letter to All the Faithful which he addressed
1 2
Mirror, Ixxxix. Ibid,, Ixviii ; Little Flowers^ xviij.
3
Second Rule, chap, ix (Writings, p. 71).
296
 Francis of Assist
to the entire body of Christians in 1215, when he was pre-
vented by illness from continuing to preach to them as he
was accustomed to do, contains an appeal based unquestion-
ably on a mercenary attitude. He exhorts his readers to
"
give alms because they wash souls from the foulness of
sins," and reminds them that they carry" with them after
death the reward of charity and alms, for which they
shall receive a recompense and worthy remuneration from
the Lord." l
This overmastering desire for spiritual welfare which
drew him to accept from his followers so much less than he
would have desired, rather than force them to risk losing
everything, led St. Francis to consider very seriously the
manner of life which would be most conducive to the com-
mon good. The question resolved itself for him in general
into a choice between two alternatives a life of contem-
plation on the one hand and a life of external activity on the
other. It seems evident that his own nature inclined to the
former of these two possibilities, yet there was something
in him which led him to shrink from embracing the con-

templative life as it was then understood. It is recorded

that at one period of his life he was in the habit of passing
1
Writings, p. 1 02. The episode at Montefeltro in the spring of 1 2 1 3,
when St. Francis took as his text two lines from a popular song "Tanto
"
e il bene ch'aspetto, ch'ogni pena m'e diletto is
usually regarded as a
striking example of his insistence on a future reward as consolation for
a present pain (see Cuthbcrt, Life, p. 159; Joergensen, St. Francois,
book iii, p. 237). But as it stands the couplet which proclaims
chap, ii,
" so "
that the good that I await, that all pain is a delight to me
great is

does not necessarily point to this conclusion. It is evidently open to

the interpretation that the assurance of a future joy is so certain that it
casts something of its radiance even over the immediate suffering the
suffering is not borne with a view to earning the joy,'.but is transfigured
by the foreknowledge of the joy that is in store. There are states both
of mind and of body when pain is readily transformed into an un-
expectedly acute pleasure. See Little Flowers, First Consideration of
the Most Stigmata, for the account of the incident.
Holy
297
 St. Francis of Assist
the whole day alone in his cell, coming out only when he
was compelled to do so by the absolute need of food. On
such occasions he would disregard the ordinary hours of the
community, being mastered, as his biographer says, by a
1
greater craving for contemplation. Prayer was for him
the means by which the soul received its own proper
2
nourishment, which is God, and as his interests were of the
soul rather than of anything else, it was inevitable that a life
of contemplation should hold for him an almost over-
powering attraction. Yet, on the other hand, he felt from
the first that the opportunities for an entirely contemplative
life which then offered themselves were not such as he
could accept. On his journey to Rome to obtain the con-
firmation of the Primitive Rule he successfully resisted the
invitation of the cardinal to become either a monk or a
hermit, for in spite of the vista of peace and seclusion which
such a proposal laid open he felt the imperative need of a
life which should more definitely take into consideration
3
the wants of his fellow creatures. In fact, the monastic
life as such seems never to have appealed to him, whether
such a view resulted from a natural disposition or from an
experience of the monasteries that were then in existence,
as seems more probable. The three Orders, as finally
constituted by him, were adapted to provide society with
the advantages of such places, without incurring their
dangers. They were not, as were monastic institutions or
the then existing orders, framed to include any one type or
class to the exclusion of any other, but offered their privi-

leges to men and women, single or married, without any

distinction other than into the three divisions of one great
brotherhood, with Rules adapted to their several necessities.
The renunciation of property was a condition of reception
1
Celano, ii, 45.
2
Ibid., ii, 96 j Mirror, xciv ; Bonavcnture, x, 6.
3
Celano, i, 33.
298
 Francis of Assist
into the First and Second Orders, and the great advantage
of freedom from anxiety about food and clothing, which
characterized the enclosed monk or nun, was retained by
the simple expedient of taking literally no thought for the
morrow, and believing implicitly that if they sought the
kingdom of heaven as the first necessity, everything else
that was needful would be provided. In the case of the
Tertiaries the same freedom from anxiety was assured as
far as possible by their custom of distributing their super-
fluous possessions when their own bare necessities had
been provided for. 1 The members of all three Orders
were thus as free as the monk to praise God and give
themselves to prayer without material distractions, but
had the additional privilege, when they belonged to the
1

Firs!: Order or the Third, of directly serving their fellow

men.
It is in these institutions that the divine humanity of St.
Francis stands out in all its clearness. His life, and the
lives of those whom he led, were practical examples of the
manner in which it was possible to live literally in the world,
and yet to struggle against its current rather than to be
carried with it. He avoided the obviously fallacious atti-
tude which is fondly held by some at all periods of
humanity's evolution, that, as all things are given by God,
it is therefore desirable to
accept them at their face value,
forgetting that their true employment depends on an
interior attitude, and not on their external use or neglect.
And he avoided with equal care the position of exaggerated
aloofness, which is so horrified at the baseness of the world
and its contents that it is unwilling to risk being smirched

1
See Cuthbert, Life, p. 286, and Appendix
III. Cf. Sabatier, Opus-

Critiques Historigues,fasc. i, for a consideration of St. Francis*

cules de
own attitude towards the Third Order, as distinft from that of the
Church. See also Sabatier, Vie> chap, ix, p. 177, and chap, xv, pp. 305
et
seq.

299
 St. Francis of Assist
by any contact with them. He did not cut himself and his
brethren off from mankind, but so constituted his Orders
that their members should be hindered by no temporal
considerations from concentrating their efforts on the
spiritual welfare of the world at large. He went even to the
extent of refusing to have a large tonsure since it was the
mark of the monastic state, giving as his reason for pre-
ferring the smaller or clerical tonsure that he wished his
simple brethren to have a share of his head that he wished
it to be evident, that is, that he and his Order were open
to all who would throw in their lot with them, and not
confined to the learned or rich who were in general to be
found in the monasteries. 1
It was the conflict between these two tendencies
towards a life of contemplation without the limitations of a
monastery, and towards a life of activity dedicated to the
service of his fellow men that caused St. Francis con-
siderable uncertainty at more than one period of his life.
It does not seem to have been so much that his inclination
led him to the former and his sense of duty to the latter,
as that, besides his natural leaning towards the contempla-
tive life, he considered himself very little fitted for an
existence in which he would be called upon to direct the
activities of a large body of men. The question first arose
in a definite form on his return from the confirmation of the
Primitive Rule at Rome, when he was staying with his few
brethren in the ruined tombs near the city of Orte. After
their experience of the unwonted activity of a great city
they realized to the full the advantages of a retreat wherein
they could commune with God, undisturbed by all that
passed without. They spoke of the worthiness of such a
life, and compared it with that in which they would be in
continual contact with the world, combating its evils, but

1
Celano, fi, 193. See Cuthbert, Life, p. 86 and note 2.

300
 St. Francis of Assist
also facing its unknown perils. But on this occasion St.
Francis decided for both them and himself that it was more
desirable to fulfil the office which he felt had been entrusted
to them, by preaching to the people as he had lately

gained permission to do from the Pope. The decision

was not arrived at without thought or without prayer, but
once taken by St. Francis it was accepted without demur
1
by his followers. St. Francis was convinced that his
mission was to preach to one and all, and he continued in the
direction he had taken at this early stage of his ministry
until he found himself faced with circumstances which led
him to doubt its wisdom. This occurred some three years
later, when his first attempt to preach to the people of the
Holy Land was frustrated by his ship being driven out of
its course and
eventually thrown on to the coast of Dal-
matia. 2 When he finally regained Italy he began seriously
to question whether he were intended for the life of a

wandering preacher, and all the doubts that he had put to

rest in the retreat at Orte assailed him with renewed force.
He was now concerned not, as formerly, with the char-
acter which the Order was to assume, but with the question
solely of whether he personally should continue as he had
been doing, or whether he should retire to a life given
entirely to prayer. The reasons which weighed with him
are given by St. Bonaventure with an incomparable deli-
"
cacy and penetration: It came to pass that he fell into

great striving with himself by reason of a doubt, the which

that he might end on his return after many days of
prayer he set before the Brethren that were his intimates.
* *
saith he,
What,' do ye counsel, Brethren, what do ye
commend ? Shall I devote myself unto prayer, or shall I
go about preaching ? Of a truth, I that am little, and
simple, and rude in speech have received more grace of
1
Celano, i, 35. See Cuthbert, Life, p. 156.
*
Celano, i, 55.
301
 St. Francis of Assisi
prayer than of speaking. Now
in prayer, there seemeth
to be the gain and heaping up of graces, in preaching, a
certain giving-out of the gifts received from heaven ; in
prayer, again, a cleansing of the inward feelings, and an
true, and highest good, together with a
union with the one,
strengthening of virtue; in preaching the spiritual feet
wax dusty, and many things distract a man, and discipline
is relaxed. Finally, in prayer, we speak with God and
hear Him, and live as it were the life of Angels, while we
converse with Angels ; in preaching we must needs practise
much condescension toward men and living among them
as fellow men musl: think, see, say, and hear such things as
pertain to men. Yet one thing is there to set against these,
the which in God's sight would seem to weigh more than
they all, to wit, that the only-begotten Son of God, Who is
the highest wisdom, left His Father's bosom for the salva-
*
tion of souls. .. .' Wherefore it seemeth that it might be
more acceptable unto God that, laying aside leisure, I
M1
should go forth unto the work.'
In such discussions with himself and his companions
St. Francis is seen with peculiar clearness struggling in his
dilemma. His passionate love for contemplation arid his
absolute belief in the reality of the communion that such
prayer established with God, are balanced against the great
desire of his life to follow Christ faithfully in everything.
But however much he discussed, and whatever good coun-
sel his brethren offered him, he was unable to come to

any decision on the question which occupied him. He

decided, therefore, to appeal to two people whose sanctity he
believed would ensure their discovering to him the ceftain
will of God. The first was Sister Clare and the second
Brother Sylvester, and he sent one of the brethren to them
in succession, with instructions to beg them to inquire in

1
Bonaventurc, xii, I.

302
 St. Francis of Assisi
their prayers what the divine will might be in respect of
him. The answers they returned agreed completely, and
bade him continue in the life of preaching which he had
begun. This decision he accepted, and departed without
hesitation to preach not only to inhabitants of the sur-
rounding villages, but to the birds also in the trees by his
1
way.
But though St. Francis found himself committed to a life
of external activity both by his own decision and by what he
accepted as the voice of God speaking through Glare and
Sylvester, he sought continually and unremittingly to com-
bine with it the contemplative life towards which so much
of his nature tended. There is an occasion, it is true, when
he rebuked one of the brethren who was over given to soli-
tude,and Warned him against withdrawing from his religion
and the brethren under an appearance of holiness, 2 which
suggests that St. Francis was awake to the dangers to which
such a form of life might give rise. But there is no ground
for supposing him to have subscribed to the now popular
belief that a life of contemplation is a life pf selfishness.
His conclusion was that which is evidenced by his life ;
that the highest life which it is possible to lead is one in
which the strength and the power to be effectively active in
the outer world are gained in the mysteries of contempla-
tion. Activity without contemplation may be both holy and
effective, contemplation without activity may be equally
holy and (pace the rationalist) even more effective, but it is
the combination of both by which the effectiveness and the
holiness are raised to their highest power. And this is the
conclusion not only of St. Francis, but of the mystical
theology which has been built" up on the lives of him and
his companions in sanctity: to burn in contemplation,

1
Bonaventure, xii, 2, 3 ; Little Flowers, xvi.
2
Celano, ii, 32, 33.
303
 Sf. Francis of Assist
and to communicate to others the light of one's inward fire
*
this is perfe&ion."
The life of St. Francis is thus found to be interspersed
with periods during which he retired from all external
activity to gain strength and inspiration from his prayer,
as
the country in which he lived chiefly is covered with the
refuges to which he retired. The forty days during which
he isolated himself on the island in Lake Trasimene,
"
whereon no man dwelt," may stand as an example of one
of these periodical retreats. On a day immediately pre-
ceding one Lent he was staying with one of his disciples
near the lake, and the idea came to him to keep the whole
Lent in solitude on the island. He therefore persuaded the
brother to take him there in secret, and leave him on the
uninhabited island with no other nourishment than two
loaves of bread, arranging that the brother should not
return for him until the day before Good Friday. To this
plan the brother consented, and the forty days' retreat was
occupied by St. Francis in prayer and contemplation. It is
recorded also that he fasted during virtually the whole time,
for on the brother's return it was found that St. Francis had
only eaten a half of one of the loaves. He felt the necessity
2

of frequent retirements of a like nature, and the small cell

which may still be seen at the Carceri near Assisi, hidden
away in a cleft of the mountains, bears witness to the soli-
tude which on such occasions he found to be an imperative
need. For the rest, as a recent biographer has well remarked,
some cave or grotto is invariably to be found in proximity
to the places in and arpund Umbria where the greater part
of his time was spent. As Assisi had its Carceri, so had
Narhi, Borgo-san-Sepolcro, Rieti, Cortona, Chiusi, and in
fact all parts of the country, their places of retreat. 3 And
1
Scaramelli, // Direttorio Mistieo, tratt. ii, cap. xxii, sec. 269.
3
Little Flowers, vii.
3
Joergensen, St. Fratifois, book ii, chap, i, p. 105.
304
 St. Francis of Assisi
this need of being alone was not confined to one period of
his life only. During the tumultuous times which suc-
ceeded his declaration of allegiance to the Lady Poverty he
would continually betake himself to a cave near the town to
struggle with the difficulties and objections which arose
1
within him; he retired to wander alone on Monte
Subasio when he had finally broken away from his father; 2
and the practice seems to have increased rather than
diminished as he grew older. It was his custom towards
the end of his life to take certain of the more intimate breth-
ren with him to ensure complete solitude, for as his fame
grew it became increasingly difficult to escape from the
importunities "of his friends. He was willing, as his bio-
grapher says, to devote one part of his time to the profit
of his neighbour, and to spend the other in the blessed
retirement of contemplation," but during these latter times
he would allow no interference or disturbance of any kind. 3
At the most he would appear on the threshold of his cell
and make over his visitors the sign of the cross from a
4
distance.
The same need for solitude is particularly evident during
the closing years of his life. With the approbation of the
Rule of 1223 he felt that the period of his active ministry
was in some sense completed and sealed, and he gave
himself with renewed devotion to the fuller life which he
lived within. He definitely withdrew from publicity, and
passed the following Christmas in celebrating the sacra-
mental mystery of the Incarnation among the peasants in
the caves at Greccio. 5 He remained there till Easter had
passed, and in the autumn of the same year retired to
1
Celano, i, 6 ; Legend, 1 2. There seems no doubt that this period
of prayer in the cave came after the declaration, and not before it. See
Joergensen, St. Franfois, book i, chap, v, pp. 37 et seq.
a 3
Bonaventure, ii, 5. Celano, i, 91.
4 *
Ibid., ii, 45. Hid., i, 84-6.
305 U
 St. Francis of ^4ssisi
Monte Alvernia. On this occasion he not only took some
of his brethren with him to act as a protection against the
importunities of the outer world, but finally chose a place
for his cell so far removed from the brethren that they
could not hear him when he called. And it was in this
utter solitude that he experienced the final mystery that
marked him with the Stigmata of Christ. 1
This division of time between the active and the con-
templative life found its natural parallel in the regulations
and recommendations which St. Francis gave to his fok
lowers. In the description of the perfect Minister-General,
the proper fulfilment of which office was a source of con-
tinual interestand anxiety to St. Francis, he explains that
the ideal Minister should be a man with a natural inclina-
tion to prayer, who should so order his day that part of it
would be given to his own soul and part to the manage^
ment of those who were entrusted to his care. His day
should begin with the celebration of Mass and with his
own prayer, and when he had so fitted himself for his
external activities he should appear in public and be ready
2
to attend to whatever might arise. The same principle
is
apparent in the regulations drawn up for such of the
brethren as should feel in their turn drawn towards the
occasional solitude of one of the hermitages that St. Francis
himself frequented, or a similar place chosen for the same
purpose. It was advised that there should be three
brothers together, or four at most, and two of them should
be regarded as mothers and the two or one remaining as
sons. The mothers were to lead the life of Martha and
keep apart from everyone, in particular guarding against
any intrusion on the privacy of the sons. These were to
devote themselves to the part of Mary and to have each
his own separate place, so that (if there were two of them)
1
Little Flowers, Second Consideration of the Most Holy Stigmata,
2
Celano, ii, 185 ; Mirror, Ixxx.

306
 St. Francis of Assisi
they might neither sleep nor live together. No one was
to be allowed to enter their cloister, and the only persons
to whom they were to speak were their mothers for the
time being, and their custos when he should visit them.
The mothers and the sons were to fulfil their offices alter-
nately, so that the whole number living together would
reap the benefits of solitude in their turn. Such a regula-
tion, providing for a peaceful retreat from the normally
active life of the brethren when they should feel the need
of it, is eloquent as to the value which St. Francis laid on
both sides of the religious life, and the care with which he
1
provided for them in the lives of all his followers. For
him it was not only true that laborare e&orare, but also that
orare eft laborare^ and the work of prayer demanded, and
received, its full consideration and attention.
"
For a man to whom prayer was a means of union with
the one, true, and highest good," it is easy to understand
that spiritual experience provided a very genuine increase
of power and capacity. There are two instances which
stand out from the generality of what must have been
recurring phenomena in his life, of which the first took
place at the beginning and the second nearly at the end of
his activity. The moments which he spent before the
Crucifix in San Damiano, when he heard the voice of
Christ speaking in his heart, sent him away filled with a
force and an inspiration" which would brook no resistance.
Celano's phrase that,is
having been smitten by unwonted
visitations, he found himself another man than he who had
gone in." He adds that St. Francis felt the change he
had undergone to be ineffable, and it is from the moment
of this experience that the vitality which he already felt
within him was increased a hundredfold. 2 It urged him
to seek
money for the work of rebuilding the ruined church,
1
Of Living Religiously in a Hermitage (Writings, p. 89).
3
Celano, ii, 10.

37
 St. Francis of Assist
and gave him Strength finally to withstand his father's
anger and make the entire renunciation of all his posses-
sions before the Bishop of Assisi. It upheld him not only
in the actual work of restoration, which must have been
a heavy task for St. Francis' strength, but in the almost
agonizing difficulty effacing the contempt which the whole
city poured out on his new method of life. It enabled him
to rebuild the chapel of the Portiuncula which was to be
the centre of the future Order, and brought him to the
Mass which was said there on the feast of St. Matthias in a
frame of mind so responsive to every call that his mission
was sealed by the reading of the Gospel. The command
"
Provide neither gold, nor silver, nor brass in your purses,
nor scrip for your journey, neither two coats, neither shoes,
nor yet staves ..." appealed to him then with a directness
which gave him no alternative but to obey in the most
complete and literal sense. He must have both read the
words and heard them read before on more than one
occasion, but it needed just the responsiveness of his mind
at that moment to apply them to himself as a definite
command. And the result was that he went out into the
"
world speaking such words that his hearers were rapt
in amazement as they listened," and forthwith drew to him
1
the companions of the Order of St. Francis.
first This
astonishing initial force may well have faded to some degree
before the difficulties and pain which he encountered, but
the source from which it sprang was ever open to him
through the medium of his prayer, and his continual
effectiveness is sufficient evidence that he did not neglect it.
An even greater access of initiative seems to have
followed on the experience of Monte Alvernia, though
St. Francis' crippled condition prevented him from
all the new
actualizing projects which he had in mind.

1
Celano, i, 21, 22 ; Bonaventure, iii, I ; Legend, 25-7.
308
 St. Francis of Assist
He was by time suffering severely from dropsy, the
this
wounds body caused him continual pain and pre-
in his
vented him from moving except at the price of acute
suffering, and the disease of the eyes which it is suggested
that he contracted during his journey to the East took a
decided turn for the worse. Yet, these disabilities not-
withstanding, he insisted on riding through the country
surrounding Assisi (since it was physically impossible for
him to walk) and preaching to the people in words that
must have gained much in fire from the realization to
which he had lately come. 1 He was vibrant with the full
recognition of the unity of the world and of all his fellow
men, and his concern for their spiritual progress allowed
him no rest. His vision of the tremendous heights to
which attainment had been proved possible in his own
person filled him with a renewed passion to lead other men
as far on that ascent as might be, and all that he had
accomplished till then faded into insignificance
"
before his
realization of what remained to be done. Let us begin
"
to serve God," he would cry to his brethren, for hitherto
we have profited little or nothing," and in the white heat
of his enthusiasm he proposed to begin literally again
where he had begun at first, and serve the lepers as in his
2
earliest days. For St. Francis understood most vividly
that his personal efforts were inconsiderable at all times,
and that any work was done well only when the immediate
doer became a channel for the communication of the force
of God. And since on Alvernia his smaller personality
and all its hindrances had been finally sacrificed, and its
place taken by an irresistible force which he knew to be
not his own, he looked back on his life with a vivid recog-
nition of the many ways in which he would now be better
fitted to
cope with its difficulties. He could apply to them
the new conception and treat them more wholly on the
1 2
Celano, i, 98. Ibid., i, 103; Bona venture, xiv, i.

309
 St. Francis of Assist
\/

plane of spirit than he had ever done before, with the pro-
portionate certainty of finding a more complete solution.
For his realization was of the love which enfolded every-
thing, the fundamental oneness of God and His creation,
and therefore of the universality which underlay all division
and all difference. Living, acting, loving on such a plane
continually, he was fitted as never before for dealing with
the world of division.
It was in such an abiding realization brought home to
him as a certainty
beyond doubt, that St. Francis wrote
all
the Canticle of the Sun, the of the Praises of the
Hymn
Creatures, when he was lying ill in a wattle hut at San
Damiano after the stigmatization. It is the triumph-song
of oneness, founded on a comprehension of the eternal
co-existence of all manifestation in its Creator, and a paean
of gratitude to Him therefor. It rose to St. Francis' lips
in spite of the bitterness of his suffering, and although his
activities were circumscribed by his illness the song to
which it gave birth went out through the world as an
ecstatic assurance of the final unity of all in the Fatherhood
of God. It is a matter of history that it brought peace and
1
reconciliation where there had been strife, and the vivid-
ness of the conception from which it had arisen was so
great to St. Francis that he was anxious to teach it to a
certain number of his brethren and send them through the
world to sing it to all the peoples. 2 And in the fulness of
heart which continued after his supreme experience, he
sent letter after letter to the rulers and custodes, exhorting
them to encourage the people to praise and venerate at all
times and in all places the God Whom
he now knew in the
3
centre of his being.
To this same source of spiritual experience may be
traced what, for want of a better term, may be called the
1 3
Mirror, ci. Ibid., c.
3
See Writings, pp. 125, 127, and Cuthbert, Life, p. 362,
310
 St. Francis of Assist
personal influence which St. Francis exercised over those
who knew or heard him. There is a striking passage in the
biography written by the brethren who knew him most
intimately, which ascribes to him at an early period of his
life a large measure of this power. The Legend speaks of
him as having first convinced himself in deed of whatso-
ever he preached in words to others, so that he might in full
confidence declare the truth. 1 In such testimony there is a
hint of experience reaching into other regions than the
normal one, of the adventures of the preacher having been
in the plane of spirit as well as in the sphere of everyday

morality* To have told his hearers that they should lead

honest and peaceful lives would have suggested that he
himself had some knowledge of honesty and peace, but to
assure them, as St. Francis unquestionably did, that the
coming of the kingdom of heaven is consequent upon the
sacrifice of the present world, suggested with equal force
that he had himself so found something of the kingdom of
which he spoke. To have spoken of it as a matter of
intellectual conviction might have interested those of his
hearers who were attracted towards such speculations, to
have spoken of it as a matter of tradition would have
appealed to few, but to speak of it as an experience of
which he himself had tasted both the bitterness and the
sweet was to carry conviction into the minds of all who
heard him. No strength of belief, no loftiness of purpose,
could have convinced them as did the profound sincerity
with which St. Francis spoke from the treasure of his own
"
experience, so that as his brethren said men marvelled
at the power of his discourses." But it was not merely that
his words went straight to the hearts of his audience. It
was in himself especially that the power lay he became
increasingly, as he penetrated always farther into the

1
Legend, 54.
3"
 St. Francis of Assist
mystery of the spirit, a centre of force. The inspiration
radiated from him, communicating itself to those with
whom he came into contact so that their opposition was
gradually broken down, and they went away, whether
they were members of the Order or men and women living
in the world, comforted and strengthened by something
which was beyond their comprehension. To incalculable
numbers of those whom he met and left again he was the
occasion of a complete change of life, by reason of the love
which flowed out from him and suffered no resistance.
To those with whom he lived and became intimate he was
a source of strength which sufficed to uphold them in all
the difficulties they had to face in their arduous life, and it
is
easy to credit the Legend with literal exactness when it
speaks of those who had received his blessing going through
the world, as pilgrims, with great rejoicing of spirit. 1
And this influence was felt by people of all types and
ranks. The Bishop of Ostia, who later as Cardinal became
Protector of the Order and as Pope Gregory IX canonized
St. Francis, manifested a warm friendship to him from the
first. He recognized in him a man in whom the spirit
shone through the humanity, and witnessed that however
disturbed he might be it was sufficient to see and talk to
St. Francis, to drive away all his anxiety and vexation and
restore him to complete serenity. Discontent could not
survive the radiance of the joy with which he was filled,
and the fact of his presence was a refreshment for the past
and an encouragement for the future. 2 An interesting
testimony to the measure in which this was felt by those
who knew him is found in an incident which has been
preserved in one of the earliest biographies. natural A
philosopher, who is credited with being
JL t?
both eloquent and J.

learned, had been listening to St. Francis, and found, to his

1 a
Legend, 59. Cf. Celano, i, 36. Celano, i, 101.
312
 St. Francis of Assist
surprise, that the words conveyed a great deal more than
appeared on their surface. The spiritual power which
inspired the preacher communicated itself in some degree
to the philosopher, so that thewords which were used
became the merest skeleton of what St. Francis really
expressed. Because of his concern with the more subtle
message, his hearer experienced the greatest difficulty in
recalling any of the actual words which were used, and
discovered that if he succeeded in remembering any of
them by a particular effort, they did not appear subsequently
1
to be the same that he had originally heard. There was
lacking, in fact, the something which can only be communi-
cated by actual life the force of the spirit flowing through
the words and clothing them with its vitality and its light.
And it was assuredly the strange dignity which the budding
consciousness of the spirit imparted to St. Francis almost
from the beginning of his ministry, which went far in
gaining a hearing among the people. When he was
him
repairing San Damiano the whole populace, led by his own
family, laughed at him unmercifully, but when he felt that
his mission was finally sealed by the injunction heard in the

Gospel at the Portiuncula, he went out to face the world

with a new certainty and a new assurance. And as he spoke
his hearers felt an unexpected solemnity steal over them;
the something which was alive and active in the depths of
St. Francis called forth some dim response in themselves ;

quickened and answered the call that it had

their spirit
heard, and the natural desire to scoff gave way to an
2 "
instinctive movement towards adoration. The God
"
give you peace with which he met them was astonishing
as a salutation, but were they not forced to a realization of

something of its beauty by the unaccustomed stillness that

fell
among them ? Was there really an interior peace
1 3
Celano, ii, 107. Legend, z5; Bonaventure, iii, z.

313
 Sf. Francis of Assisi
which could transfigure their ceaseless Striving in a world
given over to war, and was it to be found in the teaching
and the example of this amazing beggar ? The thousands
who flocked to join their way to his are the final evidence of
the force that inspired St. Francis, and of the fraternity of
the spirit which his own experience in the realms of the
spirit enabled him to demonstrate to the world*
 Chapter Fifteen
HE END OF ALL IS GOD. CONSCI-

_ jously
to the mystic, and unconsciously but ulti-
mately to some who would resent the name, the
of all activity has been one and one only, in
^
spite of all multiplicity of method. For him, the end does
not only crown the work, but gives each detail of it its
meaning. Work for the sake of the work becomes a
counsel without significance, for it is only in respect of the
end that the work assumes any value. There is thus a
unity running through the mystic's life which is wanting
in the lives of many a thread upon which his actions are
strung, which leads finally to Deity. And it is evidently a
unity of principle rather than of detail that will mark his
activities. He is no more bound down to a particular
sphere of usefulness or to a particular type of action than
he is limited to the tenets of a particular creed; the
essentials of mysticism underlie and vitalize all creeds as
for the mystic they spiritualize all that he does in any
branch of life. Essentially he is therefore supremely free,
inasmuch as he can be confronted with no circumstances
where God may not be found, with no abyss of despair
wherefrom the divine certainty is absent. There are
periods, it is notorious, when the veils of darkness are such
as to
prevent any consciousness of the all-pervading light,
but however bitter may be the privation, it is for the mystic
to pursue his way unfalteringly, not only in the knowledge
that God is there, and in the certainty that the shadow is the
veiling of an intolerable splendour, but in the unalterable
315
 St. Francis of Assis i
belief that all roads that are followed in love and aspiration
Him.
lead finally to
The fundamental purpose, then, of obedience, poverty,
and chastity is God; they are means towards Him; and
to consider them as aimed at anything less is to
degrade
them from their high office. Yet be remembered
it will
that just because the unfailing motive must be love in its
purest and least personal sense, there can never be any
question of the person claiming God as the prize of his
labours. The end of all, it may be said with equal truth, is
love, and this is not to be realized while the acquisitive
instinct is in the ascendant, or at any time before all the
gates are thrown open so that That which is eternally
waiting may come and dwell in the consciousness. No
man can make God his own, but he may at his highest allow
himself to be made one with God. His greatest activity is
not to clutch something to himself, but a permissive process
" "
whereby that which he calls I is overwhelmed.
This paradoxical union with God, which is the highest
fulfilment of him who seeks it, and niust yet be sought
solely for the honour of That which is sought, is the cease-
less quest of humanity through the centuries. The symbol-
isms of almost every human activity have been used to treat
of it. At times the aim has been to obscure the issue and
its
processes so that the world at large should not profane
the mystery which it could not comprehend, while those
whose insight enabled them to penetrate beneath the surface
of the symbol should not only read its secret, but realize its
life in themselves. At others the symbolism has been
used as a means of elucidating a difficult point of under-
standing, so that the mind might be led to comprehension
by means of a parallel known to most; and yet at others
it has been
employed by those whose experience has been
in reality ineffable, to express to their co-heirs of eternity
some hint of a process which is peculiar to each, yet has a
316
 Sf. Francis of Assist
common and a common end, for their confirmation
basis
and encouragement. Now it was the obscure processes
of alchemy which contained the teaching and the message,
when the terms of a physical science were taken to convey
the intimations of a spiritual experience, and the Philo-
sopher's Stone and the Tincture represented, for those who
were capable of understanding, the spiritual essence which
transformed all that it touched. Again the witness was
found in the science of architecture, and the masons who
built the house were in reality engaged in building the
Temple of the King where He might fitly dwell. Masonry
is a vehicle of the truth, whether the members of its
lodges
be aware of it to-day, or not; the image of the parts of a
temple was taken by Lopukhin (himself both a Mason and
a mystic) to represent the varying stages on the quest. 1
The exploits of chivalry find their life in the same purpose
that of veiling and conveying at the same time the story
of the divine search and the Graal is not only the vessel
which received the Blood of Christ, but becomes also the
2
life of God
dwelling in mankind. The symbolism of the
journey in all its
possible forms has also been used con-
tinually, as being especially fitted to carry the great intima-
tion. In The Seven Valleys of Fariduddin Attar, a Persian
Sufi of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the chief stages
of the way are described under the symbolism of the valleys
which must be crossed to reach God, the spokesman in this
case being the hoopoe, who explains to the other birds the
general character of each valley which lies between them
and the Simurgh, which stands for the object of their quest.
The Itinerarius mentis in Deum of St. Bonaventure pro-
1
I. V. Lopukhin, Some Characteristics of the Interior Church, e.g.,
chap. See A. E. Waite, The Secret Tradition in Freemasonry, for a very
ii.

full discussion, and The Meaning ofMasonry by W. L. Wilmshurst.

a
See, for an exhaustive discussion of the question in all its aspefts,
The Hidden Church of the Holy Graal, by A. E. Waite.

317
 St. Francis of Assist
its own symbolism, and
claims Ruyshroeck employed the
same image in his Seven Steps in the Ascent of Spiritual Lovt.
For St. John of the Cross it was the Ascent of Mount
Carmel, and in countless literatures the Mountain of
Initiation conveys the same idea. St. Teresa described her
own experience under the likeness of an Interior Castle,
to the central room of which the soul gradually penetrated
from the outer courts. In her autobiography the stages
are the several waters with which God refreshes the garden
of the soul, and the metaphor of gardening, from the time
when the kingdom of heaven was likened to a. mustard'
seed, has been continually employed. But perhaps the
most universal and the favourite symbol has been that of the
soul and God as the Lover and the Beloved. The theme
has been taken as conveying the central truth, and em-
broidered with innumerable devices by countless lovers of
the Absolute, and in the West one of the accepted names
for the Perfect Union the Spiritual Marriage remains
as evidence of its appeal. For the rest, the mystical
literature of Persia is saturated with the conception to such
an extent that a casual reader may overlook the underlying
intimations, and the Song of Songs, even to this day, is as
often regarded as mere eroticism as it is passed by as an
impossible allegory of the relations between Christ and the
Church.
But, apart from metaphor and behind the veils of all
symbolisms, what is signified ? What, ultimately, does it
mean for man that he builds the Temple of the King, that
he succeeds in the High Quest of the Graal, that he ascends
the Mountain of Initiation, that he penetrates even to the
innermost room of the Castle that is within ? Or if the
full answer to such questions be possible only for those
who bring the quest to its proper end, and if even they can
only stammer unintelligible replies to those who beseech
them for a clear account, how much of the real content of
 St. Fra&eis of Assist
the search and of its final goal can be regarded as applicable
to those who sincerely seek ? The answer would be that
the whole content is applicable, and that no system of
presentation is closed, to those who are gifted with spiritual
insight and whose search is inspired by a genuinely unselfish
love. The intimations of those who have gone before upon
the way are of a value beyond pearls, but the concern for
the moment is more particularly with such an idea of the
end- of the Divine Union as may find expression.
The conception of God which is real to each individual
must necessarily vary in every case, so long as there is no
actual knowledge which can take the place of speculation.
Besides representing, in however general a way, the summit
of his desires, it will be tinged with his philosophy, and
therefore be open to whatever variation those desires and
that philosophy may undergo. And even when speculation
has given place to some degree of knowledge, it cannot
fairly be expected that the reports which are given of the
high experience will agree in every detail between them-
selves. The entire weight of a life's tradition, the teach-
ings and beliefs which have been made its own, the subtle
influences of character and temperament, will all play their
part in colouring, if not the experience itself, yet at least
the account of it which may find its way into words. Even
the symbols and the allegories employed in the agonized
attempt to describe the ineffable, will unconsciously
produce an impression peculiar to the one individual.
And yet, in spite of this, there remain two large categories
into which it is possible to range practically every concep-
tion of God. By all mystical hypotheses God is every-
where unconfined by Space and unlimited by Time, there
can be no place or period where or when He is not. He
is universal; an
all-penetrating Spirit, an all-pervading
Essence. With this as the underlying assumption there
have been further accepted the two points of view by which
 St. Francis of Assist
the emphasis is put in particular either on God as being
within each individual, or on God as being concealed
behind the visible surface of all manifested nature. These
two views are obviously two different sides of but a single
conception, and have received their emphasis according to
the requirements of different temperaments. On one side
the conception of the indwelling deity, on the other that of
the deity immanent more especially in all things, has
presented all that was most precious and sublime, and it
would be but an impertinence to pretend that one is of
greater value than the other. It is, however, with the more
particularly subjective view that the present chapter is
concerned, the consideration of the attitude which may be
1
regarded as objective being reserved until later.
In the first place, the essence of the position that the
God with Whom union is to be accomplished is within, is
evidently that He is in some sense the Higher Self of the
individual who
seeks Him. That self is, at the least, an
aspect of Him the aspect which manifests itself by such
an incarnation, and which must be conceived therefore as
having that direct consciousness of God and of its relation
to God as had that aspect in its completely free incarnation
in Christ historically. In fact, the relationship between
Himself and God stated by Christ to be His seems un-
questionably to be that attributed to the Real Self by the
Christian mystic. This point of the mystical doctrine has
already been treated at some length, when it was seen that
the Real Self is unquestionably regarded as divine. 2 St.
Catherine of Genoa summed up all beliefs and statements
"
on this point when she said that the proper centre of
"
everyone is God himself," and that my I is God, nor do I
s
recognize any other Me, except my God Himself." This
1 2
See chap. xvii. See chap. i.
3
Von Hiigel, The Mystical Element of Religion, vol. i, p. 265. That
this doftrine of St. Catherine does not depend on a single reference will

320
 St. Francis of Assist
amounts to a conception of the relation between man and
God wherein there is considered to be a likeness in kind
an essential likeness ; and a difference in degree, which is
in most cases an actual difference. Man is potentially
divine in the sense that Christ was and is divine as the
seed is potentially the full-grown tree, and he only reaches
the fulfilment of his being by finally becoming so. Until
then he is only in a state of development, and often enough
of arrested development; he is incomplete and therefore
unsatisfied until he be fulfilled in God. If the difference
were an absolute difference of kind, such a completion
would be impossible of any sort of human comprehension,
even theoretical: it would need a reversal of the laws
which appear to govern all the worlds, as though an acorn
should produce a man. It would mean a sharp dividing
line, to pass over which a sudden miracle would be indis-
pensable, instead of the gradual miracle of daily growth in
sanctity. In a word, man does not become divine by a
portent worked from without, but by a growth from within

be clear from the following sayings : " The love of God is our true
self-love, the love characteristic of and dire&ed to our true selves, since
these selves of ours were created by and for Love Itself. The love, on
the other hand, of every other thing deserves to be called self-hatred,
since it deprives us of our true self-love, which is God."
" God so loves
the soul, and is it His graces, that, when He is
so ready to give impeded
by some sin, then Thou hast offended God, that is, thou hast
men say :
' J

driven away God Who, with so much love, was desiring to

from thee,
do thee good. And men say this, although it is really man who then
suffers the damage and who offends his own true self."
" Thou couldst
discover (O soul), that God is continually willing whatsoever our true
selves are wishing."
"
In truth the divine precepts, although they are
contrary to our sensuality, are nevertheless according to our spirit which,
of its is ever longing to be free from all
very nature, bodily sensations,
so as to be able to unite itself to God through love." In the last quota-
tion the point to be remarked is the essential divinity of the spirit which
desires what God desires, and its bondage in unregenerate man. See
Von Hiigel, of. (it., vol. i, pp. 262, 263.
321 x
 St. Francis of Assisi
through the degrees of likeness which lie between him and
God.
Now, at any given moment a man is limited only by the
limits of that of which he is able to be conscious. In his
entirety he cannot be said to be constituted by the slate of
consciousness in which he may happen to be for any chosen
second, for he may be concentrated upon some particular
subject and his attention completely engrossed by it. To
take a concrete case if he be occupied in reading a book
:

on physiology and find it necessary to put all other thoughts

aside while he is so engaged, the content of his conscious-
ness will be, for the moment, physiology pure and simple.
It is of physiology that he will be aware, and during the

period in question nothing else will find place in his

consciousness, but obviously he is not, for this, constituted
by his knowledge of that science. When the momentary
concentration of attention is past, a host of other thoughts
and preoccupations will fill the field of his awareness, and
these in their turn will give place to yet others. But no
instant inventory of the contents of his consciousness will
represent the entire man; this can only be reached by a
consideration of all the things of which he is capable of
becoming conscious if the circumstances arise. If there be
things, whether thoughts or sensations or concrete objects,
which cannot penetrate into and have an effect upon his
consciousness, they are, for the time being, non-existent
for the man in question. Even if they be regarded as
affecting that last resource of psychology, the subconscious-
ness, they will become fully real for him only when they
or their results penetrate from that vague realm into that
part of his consciousness which is above the threshold. A
man's relation to anything, that is, varies with his ability to
be conscious of it, and this variation ranges from complete
non-consciousness to so intense a pitch of consciousness
that the thing is to all intents and purposes a part of himself.
322
 St. Francis of Assisi
Similarly, and not less evidently, his relations with the
world of which he isconscious will depend upon the char-
after of his states of consciousness. In the first place,
what at one time appears to him all-desirable will at another
leave him completely indifferent, though the object in
question do not appear to have undergone any change.
The change is in the man; that is, in the degree to which
his consciousness reacts to the object. Where at one time

nothing that was vital could penetrate into him, at another

he will be filled with ecstasy at the intimations with which
all the world is pregnant. The world literally changes for
any and everyone as the state of his consciousness changes.
But, secondly, the man will change as he becomes more or
less able to be conscious of the things in question, and as
their limits recede he will himself expand. To take another
example: if a symphony be played before a large audience
there will be some to whom it is quite simply an arrange-
ment of notes and nothing further. To others it will be a
supreme exercise of technical skill both on the part of the
musicians and on the part of the composer: the conscious-
ness will be such that the technique stands out clearly
where to the first group it passed unnoticed. And there
will be yet others to whom the symphony will represent the
intimate thoughts and emotions of the composer at the
time of his writing it: their consciousness will be of a kind
which will be perhaps unable to remember two successive
bars when the performance is finished, or to recollect
whether the technique were good or bad, but it will have
been able to be affected by what was in fact the vital feature
of the composition. Supposing that the same symphony
is
performed under the same circumstances after the lapse
of some years, during which one of the first group of
hearers has considerably increased his power of appreciat-
ing music, the mark of his difference from his former
state will be in his ability to be conscious of what before he

323
 St. Francis of Assist
was unconscious of: in his power to feel the message
which lies behind the music, to which he was formerly
deaf. The limitations to which his consciousness submits,
that is, are the only limits of the man.
It is quite clear that this change will not be merely an
expansion of the consciousness, if the idea of expansion
connote a widening of the field only. It is a question of
kind rather than content. The increased consciousness
will not be one in which a larger number of objects is

present, nor one in which there is a set of objects entirely

different from those present in the more limited conscious-
ness, but one in which any and every object is experienced
in a manner entirely different from that of the more
limited consciousness. It is a question of holding more
than before all that it does contain ; it is not a
fully change
as regards the quantity, but as regards the quality of its
comprehension. It is less an expansion than an intensifi-
cation of the consciousness a power of piercing through
the apparent to the real which lies behind.
The passage from man to the divine is, then, a passage
across intervening states of consciousness: the stages of
the soul's progress are stages of consciousness in God.
To those for whom one aspect of God is pre-eminently the
Real Self it is a matter of growth in intensification of. con-
sciousness from man as he is, the dwelling-place of deity,
to that which he must become, a being co-conscious with
Christ of God. The classifications of Mystical Theology
are according to the degree of intensity with which the
mystic becomes conscious of Him, from the dim intimation
of the Prayer of Quiet, through the incredible sweetness of
Ecstasy to the active rest of the Spiritual Marriage wherein
the consciousness is continual and complete. It may be
that there is none to whom some consciousness of God. is
not given during his life, even though it be uncompre-
hended or put aside, but the mystics are they especially
324
 St. Francis of Assist
who have become capable of such a consciousness that its
increase constitutes the sole purpose of their lives. The
beginning of the process will be a modification of the
normal consciousness, by which the values of life are
changed, and That which dwells eternally in man calls to
him with a voice which cannot finally be silenced, to cleanse
himself of all that stands between him and It. The con-
tinuation will be such a self-naughting, such a suppression
of all the claims of the self-hood, that the consciousness is
progressively freed from that which hinders it, and is
enabled by its intensification to know more and more of
That which is its real life. As the process continues there
will ever be less of the I and more and more of God in the
consciousness, until the state is reached when it is filled
with the knowledge of God entirely to the exclusion of
everything that is less. When man is joined to God, that
is, the Union occurs in the consciousness and is in no
sense a thing outside it: there is evidently no question of
travelling to any place or any plane, but a question of
becoming something which is capable of realizing that
which is eternally at hand. But Union must itself give
place to Unity that which is at last joined to the God
within must ultimately reach a state in which it is conscious
of all of which He is conscious, and no more have the
consciousness that it stands in any way outside Him, even
though the two be joined with unbreakable bonds. The
'

Lover becomes the Beloved and the Beloved becomes the

Lover: there is no longer a bond between them, because i

they are one. It is a mystery of universality to which the I

mind cannot reach, and must content itself with the belief j
that, on the analogy of widening or intensifying conscious-
ness which has held throughout the process, the state of
Unity will be one in which the consciousness of man will
become actually the consciousness of God. If the com-
mand to be perfect as He is perfect is ever to be fulfilled,
325
 St. Francis of Assisi
how can it be otherwise than by man being not only
conscious of God, which implies yet the possibility of
distinction, but conscious as God is conscious ? Has not
the soul immortality as its heritage, and can it everlastingly
continue in the comparative separation of Union (if the
phrase may be employed to denote that by which it falls
short of Unity) ?
It will be seen that the population of God as indwelling
is the natural
starting point for the type of mind and tem-
which is under consideration, but that the
perament
intellectual subscription to the belief has to give way to an
actual knowledge. To those, if there be such, who identify
man with his bodily part the statement is obviously mean-
ingless, and it is little more to any who hold that his
intellect is the crown of his being. But to those who can
find place in man for spirit, the statement is pregnant with
signification. For them the spirit will be that aspect of
God which is indwelling: the spirit will be that inex-
haustible source of light of which the mystic finally becomes
conscious, and for some of them the spirit will be Christ.
They will understand, though it be but intellectually, how
it is that Christis crucified
continually in them until they
be offered willingly to Christ; how the True Self is in
bondage until the false self be disowned. They too will
"
have begun by saying God is within," and they, or some
of them, will have been joined to the universal brotherhood
of mystics whose consciousness has become able to exchange
statement for living knowledge. As the finer shades of
beauty in a picture are only visible to those whose senses
have become refined, they will have learned that the finer
shades of reality are hidden from those who are enwrapped
in the swathings of the self. They will have realized by

experience that the only refining of the spiritual senses is

that which comes by a rigorous purification and an unceas-
ing denial of all the self-centred tendencies, and that all
326
 St. Francis of Assisi
cleansing, as all life,must therefore be undertaken in love.
And perhaps, to some of them, to live will be Christ, not as
an ideal, but as an actual fact of consciousness.
But the lifelong pursuit of a state of consciousness bears
a character which renders it little fitted for a supreme ideal.
It has something of vagueness and abstraction which fails
in its appeal to the impassioned lover of the Absolute that
is the
mystic: it is touched with coldness where it should
be suffused with warmth, and its very impersonality,
essential though it be, reduces its power of attraction.
The goal therefore clothed in all the pageantry of sym-
is

bolism which may make the strongest appeal, and it has

been seen that no variety has been neglected which may
attract every kind of temperament. To
those who are
spurred to action by the glamour of chivalry, the High
Quest of the Most Holy Graal will offer a mise en scene
worthy of their devotion they will be the Knights of God
:

for whom the world is a perpetual tourney, whose whole

purpose is the glory of their King. His renown will be

their guerdon, and His love their
impulse. To those for
whom all heights are in themselves an irresistible attraction,
the intervening states of consciousness will be the rugged
ascents and the places of rest on the sides of the Mountain
of God: the final consciousness will be the freedom and
the glory of the summit. To one it is the gold -which
comes from the furnace of purification, to another it is the
pearl which is found beneath the waves of the sea of self-
hood it is the House which is built and the consciousness
:

of God inhabiting it: the moment when the Lover and the
Beloved are inseparably one. And for countless numbers
to whom the
figure of Jesus Christ is the one supreme
appeal, the whole body of emotions and desires will be
centred round Him, and all their aspirations will tend to
Him alone. But finally it will be not to the Divine Man
Who lived and was crucified in Palestine, but to the God
327
 St. Francis of Assisi
indwelling Who is to be found in their inmosl: hearts, and

known only when a certain slate of consciousness is reached.

And maybe, in the ultimate analysis, it will be said that
there is not only a slate of intensified consciousness in
which He is known, but a slate of consciousness which is
He.

328
 (Chapter Sixteen
INTERIOR SIDE OF ST. FRANCIS*
JHE without for the moment his
considering
[life,

[active ministry among his brethren and in the

{world, had God for its sole purpose and its end.
It is by virtue of this being his unswerving aim that he is

fitly ranked among

the mystics : with any lesser purpose in
view he might well be acclaimed as a reformer, as the
bearer of a new inspiration into the failing life of Catholi-
cism, as an overwhelming force for betterment in his own
time and those which followed him, even as a saint, but
he could not be regarded as a mystic. The members of
"
The Open Secret Society of the Mystics " hold as their
common watchword, " God is within "; and St. Francis,
in his subscription to this belief and his search for what it

implies, may take his place in their highest ranks.

It was not in his nature to erect an extensive structure of

doctrine, both because he was awake to the dangers of an

uninspired intellectualism and because the system which
he inherited from the Church was his natural belief. He
only added to it, intensified it, or departed from it, when it
fell short of, or came into conflict with, what his own

spiritual experience taught him to be essential. But it is on

account of this attitude, and on account also of the fact that
he rarely indulged in definite interpretation or application of
the accepted beliefs, that there has been preserved peculiarly
1
little which can throw
any direct light upon his views.
1
A
little book exists with the title of Do&rine spirituelle de St, Fran-

fois,by Pere Appolinaire (Paris, 1878), but proves, disappointingly

enough, to be no more than a series of extra&s (including some of
dubious authenticity) from St. Francis' published writings.
 St. Francis of Assisi
What there by way of implication rather than
is is

and has to be extracted from the mass of

direct statement ,
documents recording the incidents of his life and from the
few remains of his own writings.
From emerges with exceptional clearness the belief
this
that the Higher and Real Self of man is divine. His
vitalization of the statement in Genesis has already been
noticed in passing: 1 it takes the form of an exhortation
intended to produce humility by a contrast between man
as he is essentially and as he is, in most cases, actually.
"
Consider, O man, how great the excellence in which the
Lord has placed you because He has created and formed
you to the image of His beloved Son according to the body
and to His own likeness according to the Spirit. And all
the creatures that are under heaven serve and know and
obey their Creator in their own way better than you. And
even the demons did not crucify Him, but you together
with them crucified Him and still crucify Him by taking
2
delight in vices and sins." The passage insists and rests
on the supposition of man's divinity, for the essential part
of him the spiritual part is already like to God, only
by his wilfulness it is continually hidden. It is a privilege
which invests man with a higher responsibility than that
of other created things, which are not regarded as being
potentially conscious of the spirit; and while they serve
God within their own means and limits it rests with man
to know and to show
forth the divine fact. Until he does
so his divinity not only obscured but suffers crucifixion
is

in its bondage, and sin is precisely that which prolongs this

captivity by encouraging the human part the self-centred

tendencies to the detriment of the spiritual. But in
St. Francis' symbolism the spirit could not be regarded
as a possession common to everyone. On any hypothesis

1 ~
See above, p. 46. Admonition 5 (Writings, p. 10).

330
PONTE DEL GALLO, ASSISI

face p. 330
 St* Francis of Assisi
itmust have been conceived as universally indwelling,
but only as a potential and not as an actual possession. It
needed an effort, a desire, on the part of the individual to
make the treasure his, to bring it into his consciousness,
and without such a desire to receive it, it could not be
regarded as being entrusted to him. Without it man could
live, it is true, but lived incomplete and unfulfilled. For
St. Francis this condition was represented by the unbeliever,
and with his passionate enthusiasm for what was to him
the one true faith such an expression would be the equiva-
lent of the unregenerate of those who had not come to the
new birth of the spirit. A superficial acceptance of a creed
would not, for him, have constituted belief; his nature
demanded an intimate realization and not a cold concur-
rence of opinion. And it was by such a birth that the
highest part of man was called to life, and man thereby
came into his own. He insisted on this view of man's
constitution, by an obvious implication if not
expressly,
when he the praises of the people constituted a
felt that
" "
danger* If the Giver," he would say, should ever
choose to take away what He has lent, the body and soul
would alone remain, and these even the unbeliever pos-
sesses." 1 To awake this Dweller in the Innermost from
the enchanted sleep into which it had been thrown by the
lower part was thus the office of belief, and St. Francis
recognized fully that, even when this awakening had been
accomplished, the efforts must not be relaxed lest sleep
should return.
To St. Francis this spirit which was " lent by the Giver/'
was inevitably Christ. Just as his whole life was shaped
according to the model of Christ both without and within,
so was it centred on the knowledge of Him in his heart,
and it is this realization that the essential thing is the

1
Celano, ii, 133; Mirror, xlv.

331
 St. Francis of Assist
interior Christwhich Stands as a vitalizing complement to
his outward imitation. Here again the mystical esoteric
conception is behind and beside the exoteric, and gives it a
more real and intimate life. When his illness prevented
him from going among the people and preaching to them
in his usualmanner, he addressed a long letter to all the
Christians in the whole world, which was to recall them
to a sense of their duties and dedications. In it he speaks
of those who give themselves over to the world, with its
desires and cares and solicitudes, in the same way as he
speaks of the unbelievers in the passage already quoted.
" "
They have no spiritual wisdom," he says, for they have
not in them the Son of God who is the true wisdom of the
Father." 1 Here the source of all real wisdom is the spirit
which is within ; and it is the direct gift of God, and God,
when He is incarnated in man, is represented by Christ.
When St. Francis says that to have within them the Son
of God is to have the wisdom of the spirit, there is no room
spirit were to him synony-
left for doubt that Christ and the
mous. He adds that it is bitter to serve God because all
sin proceeds from the heart of man, as it is said in the

Gospel, and thus emphasizes the contrast between the

higher part and the lower.
The way to the knowledge of this indwelling spirit
which seemed to him to be most natural and effective, was
the way that mysticism has counselled throughout the all
"
ages of its history. The command know thyself," with
the implication that in such knowledge will be found also
the knowledge of God, does not rest, as at first sight it
would appear to, on a paradox, but on the conception of the
two selves which exist in man. On the one hand, if there
be included in his constitution a divine part, it will assuredly
unveil itself to search undertaken in the proper spirit ; on

1
Letter to All the Faithful (Writings, p. 106).

332
 St. Francis of Assist
the other, a clear knowledge of the shortcomings of the
false selfmay lead to such a revulsion that the True Self
will be the only arid inevitable refuge. In either case, or in
both, to know oneself leads to the desirable end. To St.
Francis the true philosopher was he to whom nothing was
of greater importance than the life eternal of the spirit,
and he believed that the Scriptures contained the basis of
a self-revelation which would infallibly bring this in its
train. Anyone who would apply himself thereto, not
presumptuously as though pretending to expound its

mysteries, but humbly and with a genuine desire for

illumination, would attain without difficulty, he held, from
the knowledge of himself to the knowledge of God. 1
But St. Francis' symbolism of the interior Christ was
not restricted to the statement that He
was within, and an
essential part of man. Something even more intimate,more
vivid, was necessary, and he had recourse to the symbols
which take the human relationships for their basis. As
such they have an immediate and evident appeal to every-
one, for they rest neither on abstruse learning nor on a
power of imagination, but on the common conditions of the
life of
every day, and so connote to each individual a series
of ideas with which he is already acquainted. It is, then,,
in the Letter to All the Faithful that he explains his view of
man's relation to Christ, and he introduces his subject with
an exhortation to his readers to be desirous of serving rather
than of commanding. On such as do this, realizing their
own worthiessness and preserving their simplicity, the
spirit of God shall rest a view which implies yet again that
the spirit is estranged from those who follow the opposite
course. But not only shall it rest upon them, but literally
dwell within them and invest them with the sonship of
God it is the indwelling which constitutes them children
:

1
Celano, ii, 102.

333
 St. Francis of Assisi
of the Father, in contradistinction to the unregenerate.
And by this sonship they are the spouses, the brothers,
and the mothers of Christ. This combined relationship
is not, however, to be taken, even
symbolically, as occurring
simultaneously. It represents a progression in sanctity,
and the three relationships stand for a series of advancing
degrees of intimacy. The relationship which comes first
in the order of the symbolism is that of motherhood. Here
the idea is the equivalent of that awakening from sleep
which constitutes the first dim and partial entry of the
spirit into the consciousness: it is the birth which must
precede the ability to act. And in speaking of this birth
St. Francis mentions the conditions and the attitude which
make it possible: we are the mothers of Christ, he says,
when we bear Him in our heart and in our body through
pure love and a clean conscience it is the predisposition
that is necessary to bring even His conception within the
range of possibility. We bring Him forth when this
indwelling presence finds its way into activity through the
work which we do, which should stand as an example to
the surrounding world of the potency of the spirit. But
the bringing to birth of Christ is the beginning only of the
divine process. There folloWs^it, in* St. Francis* symbol-
ism, the relationship which may be taken as typifying that
which will best withstand the stress and strain of working
in the world. As the child will leave his mother to go out
to his own life, so by a reversal of the symbol, man is taken
to pass from the position of the mother of Christ to that of
His brother when in his progress through the world he
does the will of God. It is the relationship of joint action,
following on that of protection, and the common Father-
hood is realized in common service and obedience. But
the final stage is represented by a degree of intimacy far
greater than that of brotherhood one that is only com-
parable to the ideal relationship of mother and child, and
334
 Sf. Francis of Assist
yet surpasses it by being the willing union
of two respon-
sible agents. St. Francis used the symbol of marriage to
denote the highest state in which there is still the possibility
of relationship, before a fusion has taken place which
renders further distinction impossible. Of such a marriage
there can be no description, and St. Francis says simply
that man is the spouse of Christ when the faithful soul is
united to Him by the Holy Ghost. This is the final
identification of the soul of man with that spirit which is
1
his own high self, and the marriage is celebrated within.
It would be impossible to speak of the utility of the

spirit, for
the spirit is its own utility, but it may be of
interest to gain some idea of St. Francis* view of the office
of the spirit when it had entered in some degree into the
consciousness. Beyond the spiritual wisdom which it has
already been spoken of as conferring, he considered it to
be the sense, as it were, by which God is seen. He quotes
the conversation between Christ and Philip, when the
latter asked that the Father might be shown to them, and
"
the reply was given : Have I been so long a time with
you and have you not known Me
? He that seeth seeth Me
My Father also." He quotes from St. John again that no
man has seen God at any time, and adds: " Because God
spirit, therefore it is only by the spirit He can be
is a

seen." Coming in this context, just after the assurance

that God is seen in and through Christ, the passage offers
another testimony to St. Francis* belief that the spirit was
Christ. The office of the spirit is then (if the phrase be
permitted) to cognize Deity, and in the later passages of the
same Admonition he gave an example of the manner in
which such cognizance operated. Speaking of the way in
which those who partake of the Sacrament unworthily, eat
and drink judgment to themselves, he adds that it is only

1
See Letter to All the Faithful (Writings, p. 104).

335
 St. Francis of Assisi
those in whom the Spirit of the Lord dwells who receive
"
the most holy Body and Blood of the Lord. All others
who do not have this same Spirit, and who presume to
1
receive Him, eat and, drink judgment to themselves."
They are not, it will be observed, debarred from partaking
of the Bread and the Wine, but it will be in effect only
bread and wine that they receive, and in no sense the Body
and Blood of Christ. It is improbable that this is a limita^
tion of the orthodox view of Transubstantiation, concocted
by St. Francis himself, but it is undeniably an application
of that which lay behind the doctrine, in terms of the
spiritual life that was communicated by it. The presence
of the spirit in the consciousness was absolutely necessary
to the reception of the species in any other sense than a
merely formal one on its
:
presence depended the power to
receive, with the Bread, the strength which it communi-
cated, and, with the Wine, the life. It was the spirit
receiving and cognizing and responding to what was non-
existent to the senses, and gaining therefrom its spiritual
nourishment. The spirit was therefore to St. Francis both
the way to the divine goal and the goal itself it was that
through which God is communicated and seen, and also in
some sense God. In it was the truth of all truths, and it was
Truth ;
it was itself the Life of all lives, and eternally and
supremely the one way by which it was possible for man to
attain thereto.
It must be admitted that this teaching of the interior
Christ almost inevitably sprang from a personal experience.
If it be not the common doctrine of general Christianity, it
is nevertheless that of Christian
mysticism, but it is not a
tenet that would receive a large amount of emphasis from
those who knew it by hearsay only. The mystic is by way
of insisting specially on those things which he knows, either

1
Admonition I
(Writings, pp. 6, 7),

33 6
 St. Francis of Assisi
in part or in full, from own
experience, and not on any
his
traditional belief, even though the tradition be that of his
confreres in the spirit. Report or tradition, in fact, only
finds its ultimate fulfilment for him when it has been made
his own by actual participation in the life which lies behind
it, and until this has occurred it must remain to a large
extent sterile. St. Francis, it has been seen, is credited with
having convinced himself in deed of whatever he preached
1
to others, and there seems no reason to suppose that his

preaching of the interior Christ was an exception to this

rule. It is, in fact, expressly stated in the Fioretti that he
found Christ in the secret places of his soul, and though
this be but the comment of a biographer, contained in what
is
admittedly a legend rather than a historically accurate
account of the facts, it agrees so well with that which is
rendered probable on other grounds that it may be accepted
as having its origin in fact, and not merely in a pious desire
for edification. 2 It is at any rate significant that it is
referred to the later years of his life, during which alone
it would be
possible, and though it is mentioned before the
fact of the Stigmata it falls within their
period. In such
circumstances the statement may well refer to the flashes of
Union which Mystical Theology regards as preceding the
continuous Union of the Spiritual Marriage, which final
state seems incontrovertibly to have been initiated on the
heights of Alvernia. And although the present concern
be not to trace in detail the stages of St. Francis* spiritual
life, it will not be out of place to glance at the evidence for
his having realized the Divine Union which was the goal
of all his desires.
It will be remembered that the Union is taken to consist
in a state of consciousness in which the Deity indwelling
is
known, either fully, as at the end, or in part, as in the
1
See p. 311.
2
Little Flowers (First Consideration of the Most Holy Stigmata).
337 Y
 St. Francis of Assist
Stages immediately preceding the end. Like all
spiritual
progress attainment rests on desire, and if all evidence
its
for such a desire be lacking there can scarcely remain
any hope of it having been reached. But St. Francis' case
presents no difficulties in this respect. In the first place
there are again, for what they are worth, the statements of
his early biographers, and here it is evident that, while
their accounts of his interior life must be received with
caution, their reports of his desires had almost certainly a
foundation in the yearnings to which they had themselves
heard him give expression. Thus Thomas of Celano
"
speaks of him as longing above all things to be dissolved
and to be with Christ." Did this sentence stand alone it
might easily be a method, and a method quite after
Gelano's own heart, of referring to St. Francis* desire for
death and his hope of knowing Christ thereafter. But it is
followed by an account of the means he took with this end
in view of his struggle to be free from the entanglements
of the world, of the way in which he withdrew into himself
and substituted the thought of God for thoughts of the
world of manifestation. It is followed also by a short
account of his continual prayer of that vital prayer which
does not consist in words, but in the attitude of the creature
towards his Creator, which for all mystics is the supreme
"
means towards Union. Walking, sitting, eating, and
1
drinking, he was intent on prayer." Bonaventure, with
his greater understanding of the mystical life and position,
puts the matter somewhat differently, and more definitely.
"
He yearned to be utterly transformed into Him by the
fire of his
exceeding love," he says, and there could perhaps
be no better words by which to express the mystic's uni-
2
versal desire.
And in the second place, to supplement these reports,

1 a
Celano, i, 71. Bonaventure, ix, 2.

338
 St. Francis of Assisi
there has been preserved a prayer in which St. Francis
poured out his longing for God. It is in effect a prayer for
Union for the approach of the purified soul to God,
when ithas realized its own inadequacy. "Almighty,
eternal, just and merciful God, give to us wretches to do for
Thee what we know Thee and to will always that
to will
which is
pleasing to
Thee; so that inwardly purified,
inwardly illumined and kindled by the flame of the Holy
Ghost, we may be able to follow in the footsteps of Thy
Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, and by Thy grace alone come
to Thee the Most High." 1 The prayer is a short resume
of the whole mystical process a crescendo which begins
with man's realization of his incompleteness while in the
state of separation, then passes to the method of breaking
down his barriers by substituting the divine will for his
own, continues with a reference to the illumination and
support of the divine spirit, and ends on a note of triumph
with the tremendous assertion of the possibility of coming
actually to God.
It was in prayer of the kind referred to above by Celano
"
not prayer for one moment, not vacant and presumptu-
ous prayer, but long-continued, full of devotion, calm and
humble," "as he says that St. Francis found the way to
Union. In prayer there seemeth to be the gain and
heaping up of graces ... a cleansing of the inward feelings .

and an union with the one true and highest good. ... In
prayer we speak with God and hear Him, and live as it
were the life of Angels," he said, when he was debating his
2
proper manner of life, and his biographies contain repeated
"
accounts of its effects on him. He is spoken of as striving
ever to manifest a
" spirit present with God," as affirming
that the grace of prayerfulness should be more desired
1
This prayer is placed by Father Robinson at the end of the Letter
to all the Friars
2
(Writings, p. 118).
Bonaventure, xii, I.

339
 St. Francis of Assist
than all others by the religious man," as being so absorbed
in prayer "whether walking or sitting, within doors or
without, in toil or at leisure . . . that he seemed to have
devoted thereunto not only his whole heart and body, but
"
also his whole labour and time." He experienced in
"
prayer the of the Holy Spirit
" longed-for presence
. . .

and therein spake familiarly with his Lord," and "the

essence of all the accounts is that by means of prayer he
became changed almost into another man." 1 They refer
chiefly, it will be readily conceded, to interior or mental
prayer, to the wordless contemplation which is an inten-
sification of an attitude which should be continued, but
St. Francis* prayer was not restri&ed to this. His fervour,
it has been remarked in his prayer for Union, also broke
out into words, and his remarkable paraphrase of the
Lord's Prayer contains perhaps all the essentials of his
2
mysticism. It was a revitalization, springing from an
interior comprehension, of phrases which are always in

danger of becoming dulled by centuries of repetition, and

an interpretation of them above all in the interests of the
interior life. It runs as follows :

"
Our Father, mol holy, our Creator, Redeemer, and
Comforter.
"
Who
art in heaven, in the angels and in the saints

illuminating them unto knowledge, for Thou, Lord, artO

light; inflaming them unto love, for Thou, Lord, artO
love; dwelling in them and filling them with blessedness,
for Thou, O
Lord, art the highest Good, the eternal Good
from whom is all good and without whom is no good.
"
Hallowed be Thy Name may Thy knowledge shine
:

1
Bonaventure, x, I, 3, 4.
2 "
It is a work," remarks M. Sabatier,
" which does not fail to
on the ardours of "
enlighten us mystical St. Francis (Examen de quelques
travaux recents, Op. Grit. Hist., fasc. x).

340
 Sf. Francis of Assist
in us that we may know the breadth of Thy benefits, the
length of Thy promises, the height of Thy majesty, and the
depth of Thy judgments.
"
Thy Kingdom come, that Thou mayest reign in us
by grace and mayest make us come to Thy Kingdom, where
there is the clear vision of Thee, the perfect love of Thee,
the blessed company of Thee, the eternal enjoyment of
Thee.
"
will it is in heaven, that we
be done on earth as
Thy
may love Thee with the whole
heart by always thinking of
Thee; with the whole soul by always desiring Thee; with
the whole mind by directing all our intentions to Thee and
seeking Thy honour in all things and with all our strength,
by spending the powers and senses of body and soul
all
in the service of Thy love and not in anything else; and
that we may love our neighbour even as ourselves, drawing
to the best of our power all to Thy love; rejoicing in the
good of others as in our own and compassionating them in
troubles and giving offence to no one.
"
Give us this day, through memory and understanding
and reverence for the love which He had for us and for
those things which He said, did, and suffered for us our
daily
"
bread, Thy Beloved Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.
And forgive us our trespasses, by Thy ineffable mercy
in virtue of the Passion of Thy Beloved Son, our Lord
Jesus Christ, and through the merits and intercession of the
most Blessed Virgin Mary and of all Thy elect.
"
As we forgive them that trespass against us, and what
we do not fully forgive, do Thou, O Lord, make us fully
forgive, that for Thy sake we may truly love our enemies
and devoutly intercede for them with Thee; that we may
render no evil for evil, but in Thee may strive to do good
to all.
"
And lead us not into temptation, hidden or visible,
sudden or continuous.
34i
 St. Francis of Assist
"
But deliver us from evil, past, present, and to come.
1
Amen."
Such a prayer needs no comment. It may simply be
noted that the Kingdom is regarded as an interior state
a state of consciousness in which God may be seen and
known, and that our daily bread is the Pants Supersub-
tfantialis of the Vulgate, and none other than Christ
Himself.
And as to St. Francis* actual attainment of the Union,
there are passages in the biographies which leave no room
for doubt. For him it was the consciousness of Christ, and
he admitted to his intimate companions that he felt Him
"
almost continually present before his eyes." 2 In the
language of Mystical Theology this was a continuing
intellectual vision, of a kind which is enjoyed almost

exclusively by .those who have reached a high stage of

Union. 3 It may be compared with the experience of St.
"
Teresa recorded in her Life. Jesus Christ seemed to be
by my side continually. ... I had a most distinct feeling
that He was always on my right hand, a witness of all I did;
and never at any time, if I was but slightly recollected, or
not too much distracted, could I be ignorant of His near
4
presence." She adds, in speaking in the Interior Cattle of
the same incident, that the vision may last for days or even
a year, which latter period is nearer the facts in the case of
5
St. Francis. Similarly an incident occurred during the
period towards the end of his life when he was continually
suffering, which provided him with an opportunity for an
actual statement of the Union. To console him in his pain
one of his companions suggested that he should have
1 z
Writings, pp. 139-41. Bonaventure, ix, 2.
3
See e.g., Devine, A Manual of MysticalTheology, pp. 549, 550;
Scaramelli, II Direttorio Mistico, tratt. iv, cap. ix, sec. 117.
*
Life, xxvii, 3.
5
Interior Castle, Sixth Mansions, viii, 3.

342
 St. Francis of Assist
recourse to the Scriptures, knowing the consolation that he
habitually extracted from them. But St. Francis answered
simply that it was good to read the Scriptures and seek
out God in them, but that he himself had already mastered
so much of them that he had an ample store for meditation.
And then he added the fact that was supreme and central
"
and final for him: I need no more, my son: I know

Christ, the poor man crucified."

1
Against this solemn
assurance, made by one to whom exaggeration was
abhorrent and impossible, no doubts can prevail. It is the
assertion of the knowledge of the spirit, couched in terms
of the spirit's suffering in man. When Bonaventure,
therefore, in that part of his work on the progress of the
soul to God which treats of the Union, cites St. Francis
"
as one who passed into God by ecstasy-^ a mystic and
very hidden operation which none knows except he who
"
receives it, nor any receives except he who desires it
he must be regarded as stating a literal and incontrovertible
2
fact.

1
Celano, ii, 105.
2
Itinerarius mentis In Deum, chap. vii.

343
 Chapter Seventeen
IINCE THE SPIRIT IS UNIVERSAL IT IS
]
both ubiquitous and the very essence of life. In ,

it has been seen, it is the true self for the

jman,
[mystic, and for the Christian mystic it is Christ
-as the Spirit of God in Its incarnation. It is both the life
of Him and the way to that life. It is the very centre of his
hope, as it is the centre of his being, because he knows it to
be the object of his whole quest brought within his reach.
But there is another side to the spirit's universality. The
immanence of God in man is not exclusive of, but parallel
to, the immanence of God in nature, as the whole doctrine
of immanence is not exclusive of, but parallel to, that of
transcendence. And though it is impossible to deny, or
rationally to discuss, the ultimate possibility of a know-
ledge of God in His transcendence, it is evidently by a
knowledge of Him in immanence that such knowledge
will, if ever, be approached. Similarly, it will appear that a
realization of the immanence in nature will depend
inevitably on some measure of realization of the immanence
in the individual himself.
The form in which this belief appears in certain of the
mystics is that God is the one real and universal Substance.
This rather surprising word is used in the literal rather than
in the common sense of modern speech; it is used to

convey the idea of that which stands behind and underlies

everything, rather than, necessarily, that of which every-
thing is composed. He is the Substance, however, in the
sense that He is necessary to the being of all things, He is
344
 6V. Francis of Assist
that without which nothing could be, and if could be He
conceived as withdrawing Himself for one fantastic
moment, everything would inevitably cease to be. To say
that depends on Him, then, is simply the fact, since He
all
is upholder. The unknown author of the Theologia
its

Germanica regards this belief as the foundation of all others,

and places it accordingly at the beginning of his teaching.
" "
That which is perfect," he says, is a Being, who hath
comprehended and included all things in Himself and His
own Substance, and without whom, and beside whom,
there is no true Substance, and in whom all things have
their Substance. For He is the Substance of all things. ." . .

He is then faced with the difficulty that there are some

things which seem palpably to be not God things which
are regarded as flowing out from the real Substance. Are
not these, it is asked, something beside it do they not
that there is a something else as well as what was
prove
claimed to be the unique Substance of all ? The answer
is that such things are not the true Substance:
they are in
the nature of accidents rather than essentials, they are
manifestations, visible appearances which are no Substance,
yet owe whatever they have or are to the real Substance
underlying them. If this standpoint be accepted, it follows
in the first place that the world as it appears to man's
physical eyes is unreal : his view of it is superficial and is
concerned with an appearance in place of a reality. It is
in a sense a shadow world, a world of phantasms, an

impalpable dream-world which has yet taken on an aspect

of solid actuality. The world as he normally knows it is a
film thrown over reality, a reflection, a brightness which,
"
as the Theologia
puts it, hath no Substance except in the
fire whence the
brightness flowed forth, such as the sun or a
candle." 1 And it follows in the second place that just

1
Tbeologia Germanica^ chap. i.

345
 St. Francis of Assisi
because it depends for its very existence on the divine
Substance beneath it, it is in some way shaped and moulded
on that Substance, and becomes actually a theophany or
1
appearance of God.
But the idea of God as that which underlies is not
limited to the upholding and causing to exist of the physical
world alone, any more than the idea of immanence is
limited to immanence in the individual man. The whole
of creation, the entirety of all that is manifested, with all
its
thoughts, activities, and growth, its beginning, its con-
tinuation, and its end, is real only in God and finds its
"
meaning alone in Him. God is the Being of all that are,
and the Life of all that live, and the Wisdom of all the wise;
for all things have their being more truly in God than in
themselves, and also all their powers, knowledge, life, and
the rest." 2 And Coventry Patmore's vivid phrase puts the
"
position to the reason: Creation differs from subsist-
ence only as the first leap of a fountain differs from its
continuance." 3
Now the point of importance is the oneness of the under-
lying spirit which is God. In it is the mystic's solution of
the problem of the One and the Many the Unity is the
reality which only awaits comprehension, and the Multi-
plicity is that by which the normal view of it is conditioned.
There is only One there appear to be so many that the
mind fails even to enumerate them. That which, by the
mystic's hypothesis, is within and is the supreme heritage
of man, is likewise in all else that exists. But this is not all.
From the essential oneness of the spirit it results that it is
ultimately incapable of division, and therefore that what is
" or " beneath
"
1
The use of any spatial terms such as " behind is

undesirable, because the idea of space is not itself applicable to the

spirit, but it seems
unavoidable in the present connection.
2
Theologia Germanica, chap, xxxvi.
3
The Rod, the Root, and the Flower (Aitrea Difta, Hi).
 St. Francis of Assist
found init in one
place is found in it in all places. If the
simile of division may be employed for a moment, it may
be said that each part of it contains and is equal to the
whole, so that what is true of
any part of it is true of it in
its entirety, and conversely what is true of the entirety is

true of any part. Or again, to be fully conscious in the

is to know all the
spirit spirit everywhere, and not only any
supposed part of it which is in the individual. The Lady
"
Julian of Norwich brings this point "out plainly. In
mankind that shall be saved," she says, is comprehended
all: that is to say, all that is made and the Maker of all.
For in man God, and God is in all."
is
1
And again:
"
God dwelleth in our soul and our soul dwelleth in
. . .

God," where she draws attention not only to the imman-

ence in the individual, but to the universality of that by
which the soul is ultimately surrounded. For she con-
tinues to the effect that that in which the soul dwells is
"
God's substance, of which Substance, God, we are that
we are." It is again God as that which underlies regarded
as the means by which man exists the Real as the Sub-
:

stance of all appearances. To her intuitive sight God and

man's Substance were one and the same thing, but her
rational understanding, with its unfailing tendency towards
"
division, caused her to regard them as two. I saw no
difference between God and our Substance: but as it
were all God; and yet mine understanding took that our
Substance is in God: that is to say, that God is God, and
our Substance is a creature in God." And then she throws
aside all reasoning and analysis, and cries in a rapture of
certainty the whole amazing truth of her knowledge:
"
Weare enclosed in the Father, and we are enclosed in the
Son, and we are enclosed in the Holy Ghost. And the
Father is enclosed in us, and the Son is enclosed in us, and

1
Revelations of Divine Love, chap, ix,

347
 St. Francis of Assisi
the Holy Ghost is enclosed in us: Almightiriess, All-
Wisdom, All-Goodness: one God, one Lord."^ Inter-
pretation cannot belittle or commentary explain away the
tremendous claim of God both without and within con-
tained in such a phrase.
Nor is there any question as to the identity, in the Lady
Julian's view, between that which stands behind and the
spirit in man. The latter word is used only once in all the
Revelations, when she speaks of the goods given by God in
our spirit alone, and the context demands (and the editor
points out) that it should mean Substance. For Lady
Julian goes on to speak of the goods that we receive, and
explains that they come into the Sense Soul out of the
riches of our nature-Substance, and that, it has been seen,
Spirit, Substance, and the immanent God are
2
is God.

therefore interchangeable terms, in Lady Julian's phrase-

ology, for one universal thing.
-

The same conception is present in the doctrines held and

taught by St. Catherine of Genoa, though there it takes a
slightly different form. Instead of being the Substance,
God is regarded as " the whole essence of things both
3
visible and invisible," so that the idea of a spirit which
underlies all things gives place to that of a force which
vivifies them. The change is one of words rather than of
attitude, as it amounts to a simile taken from the terms of
life in
place of one taken from the terms of space. The
fundamental conception remains unchanged, that, namely,
of the one universal which is found in all things and gives
them all their meaning. The Essence of St. Catherine is as
ubiquitous, as inevitable, as necessary, as continuous as the
Substance of Lady Julian and the Theohgia Germanica.
Now the implications of this position are clear. If the
1
Revelations of Divine Love, chap. liv.
a
Ibid., chaps. Ivi and Ivii.
3
Von Hiigel, ^he Mystical Element of Religion^ vol. i, p. 266.

348
 St. Francis of Assist
spirit
be in some sense resident in man, and resident also
in all things created, there isthus formed a link between
them which cannot be broken. Their apparent separation
is an illusion, but an illusion which has all the force of

reality for those who live under its influence. For to those
who live in a valley separated from its neighbours by a
mountain range which they cannot scale, any idea of the
similarity and the essential oneness of the world outside
will seem the most obvious flight of fancy. But if one of
them, by superhuman force and energy, make the laborious
ascent and stand at last on the apparently unattainable
summit, he will see therefrom not only the immensity
which surrounds him, but the inevitable oneness of it all
with the valley which he has left. His report of such
oneness, if he return below to give account of it, will
hardly gain credence among those whose natural protest
would be that they had ocular, and therefore satisfactory,
demonstration of the fact of the valley's separateness. Any
attempt on the part of the mountaineer to explain the
reality would naturally be received as contrary to the
obvious and accepted laws, and excused only on the ground
that the adventurer's words were due to some inexplicable
madness of the heights. Or, if the simile of that which
underlies is to be adhered to strictly, the case is comparable
with that of a people who, on seeing that the stems of a plant
emerged separately from the ground, came to the conclu-
sion that each stem constituted a plant in itself. The level
earth would be the final fact, in itself sacrosanct and
evident. To conceive of an underlying root in which all
the stems came together, from which, in fact, they all
sprang, would be impossible, because the evidences of all
the senses would be against such a supposition And if one,
.

greatly daring, disturbed the obvious foundations of life

and discovered the oneness of all the stems, he would be
able to convince his companions only by inducing them to
349
 St. Francis of Assist
make the same experiment for themselves. So the mystic,
rising to the apex of his being, or journeying down to the
very ground of his existence, discovers that which is
common to all being in every place.
The realization of this essential oneness of the world is
thus conditional on some degree of, or some approach to,
Union with the indwelling spirit. On the hypothesis, God
is
everywhere, but more especially and pre-eminently
within, and this being within must stand for the most
evident opportunity of knowledge of Him. It is, as it were,
an offer made to man by means of which the need of going
outwards to see Him is obviated He is thereby closer and
:

more nearly related to man than if He were only in all the

world outside of him. For He is the Being of his being,
the Life of his life, the Self of his self. But there are
degrees of Union, varying stages of the ability to be
conscious of the spirit within. There are preliminary
states in which the consciousness is less complete, less
vivid, than in those which follow them; the vision is still
clouded and limited by the action of the remnants of the
lower or self-seeking tendencies. The progress towards
the full vision of the Spiritual Marriage is a progress in
clearness of spiritual sight a continual tearing aside of
veils. And correspondently to this increasing penetration
there is a progress in the continuity with which the con-
sciousness is retained. At first it is intermittent as well as
dim, it comes for a time and illumines all the world, and
then goes as suddenly and inexplicably it must some-
times seem as it came. Then, as the mystic becomes
more and more purged of his separating self, the flashes
extend into appreciably longer periods, during which the
consciousness of God is unbroken. Again there are
times of fluctuation, when the consciousness is never
entirely extinguished, but varies between the neighbour-
hood of non-existence and the full flame of knowledge.
35
 St. Francis of Assist
And as the final state Stands for the unclouded vision, so it
stands also for complete and finally unbroken continuity.
At this point God is never wholly absent from the con-
sciousness, there is no barrier left, and the only variation
is according to the entirety with which the soul is turned to

Him. Such is the testimony of the mystics.

Since all spirit is one spirit, the consciousness of this
world of oneness will vary with the clearness with which it
is realized in its immanence in the individual. As the
latter increases or decreases, so will the former gain or lose
in intensity, and the final and continuous establishment of
the one will be accompanied by the ultimate sealing of the
other. The emphasis, it is true, will not always be upon
them both equally, because to each individual there is his
own particular appeal, and as there are some for whom the
idea of the God within has no great meaning, there are some
also who would shrink from the conception of God in
nature. In the one class may be, perhaps, those who find it
difficult toaccept anything which is touched, however
remotely, by the associations of Christian ways of thinking
and modes of expression, and in the other those who fear
lest
they may be led unknowing into the, to them, for-
bidden realms of pantheism. It is scarcely necessary to add
that both the dislike and the fear are groundless, since the

teaching of the indwelling spirit has no kind of connection

with the more repellent limitations of the churches' dogmas,
and the conception of the divine immanence in nature in no
way rules out that of thesupreme transcendence of God.
For the mystics who have been cited above, this oneness
of all
spirit, and its inevitable implications, were evident.
If that which is
apparent be but a projection of the spirit,
and the spirit be its real ground and reality, the relationship
between all created things must follow. The vivid and
actual realization of the one must mean the vivid and actual
realization of the other, and the human conception of
 St. Francis of Assist
brotherhood will take on a new degree of actuality. It
willno longer be a dream of which fulfilment is desired,
however passionately, or sought, however earnestly, by
persuasion or arrangement, for its realization in any stable
sense will be seen to depend on penetration into the spiritual
sphere. And, seen therefrom, the relation of all the separate
parts of the manifested world with each other will be in a
particularly literal sense one of brotherhood, for they are
all children of one
spirit members of a family whose
Father is incontrovertibly known
to be divine. With
St. Catherine of Genoa the was pictured as the one
spirit
"
centre which was found everywhere. The one true
divine root-centre of her individual soul," writes her
"
biographer, is ever, at the same time,
experienced and
conceived as present, in various degrees and ways, simply
everywhere, and in everything." It is the centre through
which all things are related, in spite of their apparent
difference and separateness on an illusory circumference.
It is the meeting-point of all, their "> universal bond and
brotherhood." 1 In some the spirit can shine through and
act with almost unbounded efficacy, in others it is clouded
and limited, as
it were,
by the heaviness and strain of its
surroundings, but in all
things it is and all things it vivifies,
however it be obscured.
The Lady Julian uses an almost identical metaphor.
In one of her revelations she speaks of seeing God in a
Point, and because of her having so seen Him she realized
that He was in all things. This point, then, is everywhere
"
He is in the Mid-point of all thing " and is the
2
same thing as the centre was for St. Catherine. But Lady
Julian realized that the ability to see this was not the com-
mon possession of every man. It required a spiritual

penetration of which doubtless she regarded every one as

1
Von Hiigel, The Mystical Element of Religion, vol. i, p. 231.
2
The Revelations of Divine Love, chap. xi.
35 2
 St. Francis of Assisi
capable, but to which they had not all attained: it was the
summit of experience as well as, in another sense, the
foundation of all besides being an
real activity. And
"
ultimate necessity, it was a high
privilege, a worship to
God," immeasurably higher than the ability to see Him in
"
any special thing. Thus the fulness of joy is to behold
God in all," and the foundation of His so being was for
her the sight of Him in a point.
1
But the universal
Substance which made this possible, when she is using
that metaphor, has been seen to be the immanent deity, and
she quite frankly uses the word Christ as being the entirety
"
of all real
" things.
I it am," the Figure spoke from the
I it am that it am that thou lovest,
crucifix, is
highest, I
... I it am that thou meanest, I it am that is all." 2 Thus in
her experience of the world which lies hid behind the
present one did Lady Julian come to the realization of
Christ eternally extended through the universe.
She saw, too, no less than St. Catherine, that in such a
common Substance lay the unescapable necessity of
brotherhood. That which underlay was in a sense there
for each in particular, but in a much wider sense there for
all.
They were partakers in a common love, and indis-
solubly bound by it when once they had passed into its
realization. For, she says, "it is God's will that I see

myself as much bound beholden] to Him in love as if

[i.e.,
He had done for meHe hath done; and thus
all that
should every soul think inwardly of its Lover. That is to
say, the Charity of God maketh in us such a unity that,
when it is truly seen, no man can part himself from other." 3
Thus brotherhood is then no longer a matter of desire, of
goodwill, of charity in the sense of effort, but the natural
and inevitable fact of spiritual comprehension : a condition
1
The Revelations of Divine Love, chap. xxxv.
2
Ibid., chap. xxvi.
3
Ibid., chap. Ixv.

353 z
 St. Francis of Assisi
other than which nothing is possible. For the baptism of
" "
the spirit blends them all into one blood and the
knowledge of Christ

"
makes but one body of all souls,
And love that body's soul."

Or as the Theologia Germanica puts it with its usual pene-

"
tration and lucidity: He who shall or will love God,
loveth all things in One as All, One and All, and One in
All as All in One; and he who loveth somewhat, this or
that, otherwise than in the One, and for the sake of the
One, loveth not God, for he loveth somewhat which is not
God . And when the true divine Light and Love dwell
in a man, he loveth nothing else but God alone, for he
loveth God as Goodness and for the sake of Goodness, and
all Goodness as One, and One as All ; for, in truth, All is

One and One is All in God." 1

So, then, for those on certain levels of consciousness
there is a perpetual revelation of God in nature. The world
becomes vividly a theophany, not in the way in which it
may be said that a flower shows forth the sweetness and
the beauty of God and the mountains show forth His
everlasting strength, but by a conscious appreciation of the
place of each thing that is, and of its office, in the under-
lying spiritual scheme. It is not a work of the imagination,
piecing together the wonders of the world according to its
fancy, but a work of comprehension on the part of that side
of man which alone has free entry into the spiritual sphere.
It is not fantasy, it is fact; and fact of a more superb reality
than any that can be recognized by the senses. And, like
all revelations, the revelation of the deity in nature is one
which is an open secret to all who are capable of learning it.

1
Tbeologia Germanica^ chap. xlvi.

354
 St. Francis of Assist
The condition of its discovery is the opening of the spiritual
eyes, the cleansing of the spiritual sight by the destruction
of the veils of self-hood which blind it. The immanental
God is walled round and obscured by no other guards and
concealments, He is entrenched behind no other fortifica-
tions, than those which are constituted by man's own
incapacity. He is there a gift ready for man's taking,
inexhaustible and eternal. The revelation is thus a reveil-
ing for some, a hiding behind the surface which they cannot
pierce; it stands for a sanctuary which cannot be violated
by those who are unworthy of it, because they cannot find
its entrance. As St. Catherine knew, the heavenly world
does not follow after, but lies behind the present world,
"
and the cleavage in the soul's life is not between things
successive between the Now and Then, and at the point
of death; but between things simultaneous, between the
This and That." 1 Heaven is there now and always, for
heaven is there where is God, and God is not absent. Man
does not go there, but becomes conscious of it it comes
to him, rather, as a sudden stupendous illumination of all
he sees. For in his spirit man holds a master-key that
can unlock the treasure of God everywhere, and at that
moment he realizes with a certainty beyond discussion or
disproof, that he is interpenetrated with God as a sponge
with the waters of the sea. He knows himself surrounded
and swathed and clothed with God all he sees he sees in
God, all that lives and is has its life and being in Him, and
there is, in absolute fact, no void for ever. And at that
time he is one with the wind and the stars, one with the
beggar and the king; the stones and the trees and the sky
are afire with the splendour of God. There is no estrange-
ment, for there is
understanding: no scorn, for there is
love: no loss, for all is fulfilledwith Him.

1
Von Hugel, The Mystical Element of Religion, vol. i, p. 238.
355
 St. Francis of Assist
But matter for experience and not for con-
this is a
viction, it is known and not to be believed, for, in the
to be
"
words of one who knew as only the few have known, God
is more near to us than
tongue can tell or heart can
think." !
1
The Lady Julian, Revelations of Divine Love, chap. Ixxii.

'

356
 Chapter Eighteen
HE REVELAITON WHICH THUS LIES
id in nature is, in its truest sense, a sacra-
ental revelation, inasmuch as each detail of
anifestation becomes an outward sign of a

spiritual reality.
The true life resides beneath the surface,
but shows forth in and gives its form to that which may be
known by the evidence of the senses. But there is a sacra-
mentalism of the mind as well as a sacramentalism of the
spirit. The
consciousness may be affected through either
of these channels, and the capacity to receive by means of
them both may co-exist in the same individual. There is
an attitude or mind in which everything that is seen
conveys not merely its obvious message the fact of its
existence and certain connotations that have become
attached to it as such but also recalls other facts and a
whole series of other connotations. It gives rise to a train
of thought existing on other levels and concerned with other
ends: the one thing, the given fact, is not in any sense that
which it suggests, but stands for and is connected with it
by an acquired, or sometimes it seems by a natural, relation.
In the sacramentalism of the mind the outward sign is a
reminder and a point of concentration of thoughts about
the spiritual reality, but in no sense conveys either it or its
graces. It symbolizes, but does not communicate.
Beside the deeper sacramentalism of St. Francis, which
,
in time came to give to both him and his actions a character
of peculiar sweetness and appeal, ran a vein of symbolism
which is apparent not at one period only, but throughout
357
 St. Francis of Assist
his His mind was saturated with biblical similes, and,
life.

playing round the objects which he saw, it went back

continually to that with which they were connected. The
world thus became a perpetual reminder of the life which he
so ardently desired to imitate, and of the final concern of
man, in all his activities, with God. The figure of Christ
as the Lamb appealed to him with especial force and
poignancy, and with something of the thorough devotion
and imaginativeness of a child he took every opportunity
to honour the one in succouring the other. Thus on one
occasion when he was walking through the country with
one of his companions, he noticed a field in which was a
large flock of goats. Among them was a small lamb, and
St. Francis, to the astonishment of the brother, began to
groan aloud. The sight recalled to him the image of
Christ among the Pharisees and the chief priests, and made
so pitiful an impression on him that he begged his com-
panion to help him to save the lamb. With the help of a
passing merchant they eventually succeeded in obtaining it,
and proceeded, greatly comforted, to the neighbouring
city, where they finally deposited it with the nuns at one of
the convents. 1 If such an incident suggest an exaggerated
tenderness or an over-delicate susceptibility, it marks also
a simplicity and a genuine thoroughness which are
sufficient in themselves to call for admiration. And this
was not an isolated instance. At another time St. Francis
met a man carrying two lambs, hanging bound over his
shoulders, and asked him what he proposed doing with
them. The owner replied that he was taking them to the
market and that they would eventually be killed and eaten,
whereat St. Francis protested passionately. He insisted
on giving his cloak in exchange for the lambs, and then,
as on the former occasion, he found himself somewhat

1
Celano, i, 77, 78.
358
 .
-x.A-' 3?r

SUNSET AT GUBBIO
face p. 358
 St. Francis of A 's sts i

embarrassed as to what to do with them. Evidently he

could not go about the country accumulating an ever-
increasing flock of sheep, so he finally arranged to give his
purchases back to their original owner, on the condition
that he should neither sell them nor hurt them, but look
1
after them carefully at all times.
Once, indeed, his tenderness for this
image of Christ led
him to to be his only expression of hatred or
what seems
even dislike towards any animal. He
was staying in a
monastery near Gubbio, and a newborn lamb was killed by
"
what Celano describes as a baleful sow." When St.
Francis heard of this he was so incensed by that which
seemed to him symbolically an outrage 'on the Lamb of
God that he cursed the sow without mercy, and the
2
biographer relates that it died three days later. The
incident is in itself, perhaps, of no great value, but it is
interesting as an example of the way in which the sacra-
mentalism of the mind falls short of that of the spirit, and
occasionally overrides it. As a mental process it is subject
to the errors which characterize all the definitely non-
spiritual activities; it accepts division as its natural
element, and lends itself to a quickness of condemnation,
which, however consistent with the symbolism itself, is
essentially foreign to the spirit. It rises and falls with the
abilities and deficiencies of the mind; it may even, and
that easily with a habit of loosely associative thinking,
provide a palpably wrong conclusion; and in the case in
question it led St. Francis to condemn, instead of remon-
strating with, as he was quite capable
"
of doing, what he
would not have hesitated to call my sister the sow."
This symbol-seeing attitude was universal with him.
By a. trick of the mind the visible world provided him with
another and imaginary world filled with the objects of his

2
1
Celano, i, 79. Ibid., ii, in- Bonaventure, viii, 6.

359
 St. Francis of'Assist
adoration. The poet in him doubtless aided in this, with
its natural tendency to construct imagesand draw parallels
between the seen and the unseen, the known and the
remembered, the actual and the ideal. It was a world
furnished by his rich imagination and his deep devotion
a world, it would seem, that lay between the physically
apparent and the spiritually real. It was a realm of fantasy
in which the regents were tradition and love. The rocks
over which he walked recalled Him Who had been called
the Rock, and he would walk over them almost with fear
and certainly with reverence because of the great figure with
which they were associated in his mind. He would not
have the whole garden dug up for growing vegetables, but
instructed the brothers to leave parts of it so that the
luxuriance of the grass and the fresh beauty of the wild
flowers should show forth the everlasting beauty of God.
In their return in the spring he saw the recurrent gracious-
ness of deity, and the flowers themselves recalled, as the
"
Mirror of Perfection puts it, Him who is called the flower
'

' * "
of the field and the lily of the valley.' But he went
farther than this, and had a plot of ground set aside on
purpose for sweet-smelling herbs and all kinds of flowers,
as asymbol of the Eternal Sweetness. There is something
of universal appeal in the picture of this impassioned
preacher, this unrelenting critic of evil, the founder of a
world-wide Order, surrounding himself with fragrance in
honour of the God Whom he preached and loved. It is the
eternal child whose presenceis a
part of genius, and was
less obscured than in many, manifesting in
in St. Francis
natural simplicity. And, as a child may do, he attributed
to flowers and trees something of his own feelings. When
the brothers were cutting down a tree, for example, he
would not let them destroy it entirely, but made them
leave at least the root so that it might have some hope of
sprouting again. He pictured its
complete annihilation
360
 St. Francis of Assist
with just a child's sorrow, but in addition seems to have
felt that every tree demanded a certain reverence because
of the reflected sanctity of the Cross. It was on the wood
of a tree that he felt the salvation of humanity had been
effected, and all trees therefore shared something of the
Cross's splendour. But the sun was perhaps the especial
object or his reverence. It was inevitable that he should
connect it with the Sun of Righteousness, and it also stood
for the might and the majesty and the daily care of God.
It may well have been for him a symbol of the Light that

enlightens every man, and he taught the brethren that the

pageantry of its rising should be a sign for them to praise
God. It was the symbol in chief of that from which all life
came, of the joy and the brightness of all the days. He put
it, therefore, in the forefront of the Praises of the Creatures
:

"
Be Thou praised, my Lord, with all Thy creatures,
Above all Brother Sun,
Who gives the day and lightens us therewith.
And he is beautiful and radiant with great splendour,
Of Thee, Most High, he bears similitude." 1
To a mind so imbued with the idea of symbolism and so
intent on spiritual purity as that of St. Francis, certain
things stood out naturally as precious beyond the rest. All
that which cleansed, all that which purged, took on a
particular value in his eyes : they stood for the means to the
one end he desired. In the Praises of the Creatures water
represents not only that which it does, its office, but that
which it produces, its result. It is spoken of not only as the
means of cleansing, but also as the purity to which such
"
cleansing leads. It is that which is most useful and
humble and precious and pure," and as such contained all
the virtues that St. Francis prized most highly. And he

1
Celano, ii, 165 ; Mirror, cxviii-cxx.
361
 St. Francis ofAssist
took so vividly as representing the purification and the
it

purity which he knew to be essential to the knowledge of

God that, as on other occasions, he reverenced the symbol
as well as the thing symbolized. He would never, there-
fore, when washing his hands, let the water fall where it
could be trodden underfoot. 1 For fire his love was even
greater than for water, and connects naturally with his
reverence for the sun. He praised it both as giving light
in the night time and in its aspect as a purifying medium,
and here again speaks of it as representing that which it
"
produces as well as that which it is. He is beautiful and
2
joyful and robust and strong," he sang, and as such it
seems to have symbolized the completion of the purification
effected by water. It not only purged away the dross, but
strengthened the spiritual gold its action was more
masculine, more positive, than that of water, and the two,
he knew, were necessary for full strength. He went even
to the length of refusing to extinguish it in any circum-
stances, influenced, it may be, in his anxiety to follow
literally the example of Christ, by the recollection that
"
Isaiah's prophecy had been held to refer to Him: the
smoking flax shall he not quench." One day when he was
sitting near the fire it caught his clothes, and as he made no
movement to put it out, the brethren who were with him
ran to do so. But he forbade them to touch it, telling them
not to harm the fire, and it was not till the Warden was
called that it was finally extinguished. Similarly on one
occasion on Monte Alvernia, when one of the cells caught
fire, St. Francis would not help to put it out, and contented
himself with rescuing a skin which he was in the habit of
using at night. But even of this he repented afterwards,
and refused to use the skin which he felt he had stolen from
his brother the fire. For he held it to have been avarice

1 3
Mirror, cxviii, cxx. Ibid,, cxx.

362
 St. Francis of Assist
on his part which had caused him to save the skin, and that
he had unjustly cheated the fire of its due. 1
As far as this unwillingness to extinguish any fire can be
held to connect with its symbolism, it would seem to be its
symbolism as the giver of light, rather than any other
aspect of it, that he had in mind. For he exercised "
the
same almost bizarre tolerance to a lamp or a candle, not
"
suffering his hand," as Celano says, to dim the bright-
ness which he regarded as a sign of the Eternal Light." 2
It was possibly due also in a measure to the natural
happi-
ness which caused him to regard joy as a definite duty: his
whole nature acclaimed the light in any of its forms as its
proper heritage. But it would seem to connect further
with a feeling that was very strong in him as to the sanctity
of all which existed, just because of its existence. He had
an intense dislike of destruction, even of things which
appeared to have no value, symbolical or otherwise. The
very fact that a thing was, invested it in his eyes with a right
to continue in existence with a preciousness that was not
apparent to others. On the analogy of his other actions it
would seem that outward things stood almost invariably for
something else in his mind they had connotations which,
:

however obscure to the world, were real and vivid enough

to him. And it may have been something of this nature
which caused him to forbid the erasure of any letter or any
syllable when he had letters written. He would not allow
anything to be cancelled in the writing, even if it were
superfluous or incorrect, as cannot have been infrequent.
Of the same nature, but more easy to understand, was his
habit of picking up any paper he saw lying about, and
putting it in some safe place. His literal reverence for the
name of God made him fear lest that name should suffer
even unintentional dishonour if it were written on the

1 2
Mirror , cxvi, cxvii. Celano, ii, 165.
363
 Sf. Francis of Assist
paper which was trodden underfoot, and he therefore
rescued it from danger. It may well be that this habit
originated during his journey to the Holy Land, and with
his usual
thoroughness he carried the practice to its logical
end. When the writing was obviously pagan, and could
not therefore contain the name of God as he knew it, his
brethren used to ask him why he took so much care. His
answer was that, whatever the writing, it contained the
letters of which the most glorious name of God was

composed, and also that the good therein belongedjieither

to the pagans nor to any men, but to God alone. 1
Such methods as these may seem in a sense too childlike
for admiration, and are certainly
open to the danger of
becoming mere formalisms if
they be received as tradition
and their original purpose forgotten, but with St. Francis
they are the minor evidences, the superficial witnesses, of
the spiritual passion which consumed him. Vibrating as
he was with the desire for God, the smallest detail of life,
the most insignificant events of every day, became tinged
with significance. To a mind filled, as was his, with the
continual thought of God, nothing could exist which did
not bring a message he could interpret in His interest.
And, finally, there was nothing else but God.
It has been found
possible to see an example of this
continual symbolism in St. Francis' attitude towards the
poor. The conclusion that as Christ was poor St. Francis
therefore regarded every poor man he met as representing
Him, is so obvious that perhaps it was inevitable that it
should have been accepted. And up to a certain point
such a conclusion seems undeniably correct. It would
have been virtually impossible for St. Francis to avoid so
evident a symbol, and the belief in his adoption of it is
confirmed by the early biographies. Thus to a brother

1
Celano, i, 8z.

3 64
 St. Francis of Assist
who made some slighting reference to a poor man who
came to ask alms, St. Francis commanded that he should
not only ask the beggar's forgiveness, but beg also for his
prayers. And when the brother had obeyed, St. Francis
"
said to him, Whenever thou seest a poor man, brother, a
mirror of the Lord and of His poor Mother is set before
thee. Likewise in the sick, consider the sicknesses He
'took on Himself for us." 1 So far it is symbolism, and
symbolism on the quite external side. The similarity is in
the poverty, but there, it is well to remark, any especial
similarity ends. A state of non-possession is in itself no
kind of key to the kingdom of heaven. The spiritual
state of a poor man, and therefore his similarity to Chris!:,
is a matter for
inquiry: the similarity cannot be postulated
on the ground of poverty only. The suggestion of some
modern biographers is that St. Francis saw Christ in the
poor, with the strange implication that he did not see Him,
or did not see Him so easily, in the members of other
classes. But in truth he knew, and did not merely postulate
as a poetical or pious fancy, that Christ was not only in the
poor, but in the rich also. It was the result of the burning
and ever-growing knowledge of the Christ within himself;
the consequence of the union he had effected with Him.
By the knowledge of the spirit he was made free of the plane
of the spirit, and could recognize its existence, however
obscured, in the hiddenness of all men. He realized, that
is, that the rich as well as the poor were potentially the
conscious dwelling-places of Christ, and it was on this
realization that was founded his vital conception of the
brotherhood of them all. He saw them as sons who did
not yet realize their common father, but as nevertheless
linked together in an indissoluble company. His insistence,
in fact, was on the underlying reality, in
spite of
all the

*
Celano, ii, 85.
365
 St. Francis of Assist
appearances. No discord, no strife, no difficulty could long
obscure his vision of this truth.
Such a realization inevitably shapes action it is not a
contributory influence, but an impelling force and with
St. Francis it infused a rare vitality into his action and his

teaching. A
natural tendency on the part of those who had
left the world and its possessions inclined at any rate some
of the brethren to look on the worldling with a certain
scorn. The very violence of their renunciation led them
into the danger of feeling a touch of superiority, and there-
with an inclination to division their profession of poverty
:

was not in itself a safeguard against spiritual pride. But

to St. Francis such an attitude became increasingly intoler-
able. He would exhort them to judge no one, even the
most blatantly affluent, and to guard themselves against
despising or in any degree looking down on those who lived
delicately in the world. His reason was the definite one of
" "
their essential unity our God Lord also
is their
and, not content with a negative position, he wpuld instruct
his companions to reverence the rich as brothers, since they
were created by the one Creator, and also in another sense
as lords, since they helped the good to work repentance, in
1
providing for their bodily needs. His intense realization
of brotherhood was in fact universal, and the sole qualifica-
tion to be included within it was to exist. He impressed
this on his followers again in a later addition to the Primi-
tive Rule, when they had become so established as to have

regular places of abode. Friends and foes, thieves and

robbers, were to be received with an equal kindness, 2 for
St. Francis knew that by insisting on their unity a greater

good would be effected than by reproving them for their

shortcomings. And he himself put this principle into
practice when occasion arose. There was a band or thieves

1 2
Legend, 58. First Rule, chap, vii (Writings, p. 40).

3 66
 Sf. Francis ofAssist
at one time in the neighbourhood of the brothers* hermitage
at Borgo San Sepolcro, who used to lie in wait in the woods
and harass the passers-by. Some of the brethren were of
opinion that to give them food was simply to encourage
them, but when St. Francis came to the place and his
advice was sought, he explained that to treat them on a
basis of brotherhood was the one way to win them. He
therefore told the brothers to take good bread and wine to
the wood where the thieves were hidden, and call them to
the feast. When they came the brothers were to spread
a cloth on the ground and serve the robbers in all humility
and joy, and only when they were finished to ask them to
promise first of all to do no physical harm to anyone. The
same process was to be repeated on other days: the food
was to be given firs!:, and after it the brothers were to
reason with the robbers about the futility of living in such
misery and doing so much evil. And as a result it is said
that the robbers were gradually softened, and began to
serve the brothers by carrying wood for them, and that
finally some of them became in their turn members of the
1
fraternity.
From this insistence on men's oneness sprang some of
the most striking points of St. Francis* character. Besides
colouring and shaping his relations with the world it stood
as a continually visible ideal which he strove to realize in
his surroundings, or as a continual reality which he strove
to make apparent. Its implications penetrated into all the
details of his life, and urged him on to unceasing efforts
towards its actualization. His continual demand and
desire was for peace, and besides making that desire the
basis of the salutation which he said had been revealed to
him by God, 2 he strove to establish peace wherever it was
possible. The agreement concluded between the Majores
1
Mirror, Ixvi. Cf. Little Flowers, xxvi.
2
See the Will (Writings, p. 84). Legend, 26; Bonaventure, iii, 2.

367
 St. Francis of Assist
and Minores of Assisi in 1210 has been traced by many to
his influence, 1 and at the end of his life he put an end to the

dispute between the Bishop and the Podesla of Assisi by

sending two of the brothers to sing before them the addi-
tional verses he had written to the Canticle of the Sun :

"
Be Thou praised, my Lord, of those who pardon for

Thy love
And endure sickness and tribulations.
who will endure it in peace,
Blessed are they
For by Thee, Most High, they shall be crowned. 2
And between these times he is known to have brought
3
peace to many divided towns, especially to Siena and5
Arezzo,* and to have striven to bring it about at Perugia.
The aim of all his instructions to his followers was finally
that of producing and upholding between them a perfect
"
unity, to the end that those who had been drawn by the
same spirit and begotten by the same father might be
6
peacefully nurtured in the bosom of one mother." Hence
his dislike of the brethren endangering their oneness by an

assumption of learning, hence his stern renunciation of

property as a medium of division, hence his humility, his
obedience, his chastity. Hence his insuperable love of
simplicity, as bearing witness to the world of oneness.
Hence, also, the extreme violence of his denunciations of
slander. He saw in it a vivid example of division, the
product of a slate which was necessarily the very antithesis
of unity, and a certain means of fostering the separateness .

"
from which it sprang. He used to speak of it as a most
hateful plague, an abomination unto the most holy God,

1
E.g., Joergensen, St. Francois, book ii, chap, iii, p. 145 ; Cuthbert,

Life, p. loo; Sabatier, Vie, chap, vii, pp. 133-5.

* s
Mirror, ci. Little Flowers, xi.
4 5
Bonaventure, vi, 9 ; Celano, ii, 108. Celafio, ii, 37.
Ibid., ii, 191.
368
 St. Francis of Assist
forasmuch as the slanderer feedeth on the blood of those
souls that he hath slain by the sword of his tongue." He
would punish it, therefore, with exceptional severity, and,
with a fitting remembrance of its effect in producing
division from both man and God, declared that any brother
who was guilty of it ought to be unable to lift up his eyes
to God until he had done his best to make reparation.
"The sin of slanderers is more heinous than that of robbers,
inasmuch as the law of Christ that is fulfilled in the
observance of godliness bindeth us to desire more the
1
salvation of the soul than of the body."
St. Francis* proverbial courtesy would seem to have

sprung, in the last analysis, from the same source. The

descriptions of his biographers suggest that it was to a large
extent natural with him : it was one side of the chivalry to
which he had taken so instinctively in the early days. For
the tales of knightly adventurers were in part a very school
of courtesy, and St. Francis* natural tendency to it would
be increased by them and by the whole tradition of the
troubadours. But, as with all his natural gifts, he vitalized
this, in his later life, by the force and intensity of his
spiritual longings. He took it as so much given material,
transformed it in the light of his one desire, and applied it
to the fulfilment of that desire in himself and his followers.
It ceased to be the mere formula of
everyday intercourse
and became the sign, and to a large extent the product, of a
It was the homage he offered to the
spiritual realization.
inherent nobility of the spirit of man a reverence due to
all as the dwelling-places of God, and due,
again, from all
who were capable of recognizing such immanence.
" "
Courtesy is own sister to charity,*' he would say, and
2
one of the attributes of God,*' and discourtesy to his
1
Bona venture, viii, 4. Cf. Celano, ii, 182, 183, and First Rule,
ii
chap, (Writings, p. 45).
a
Little Flowersy xxxvii.

AA
 St. Francis of Assisi
brothers in the spirit was impossible. And his recognition
of their oneness was the key to men's sympathies. His
"
attitude to the sinner and the criminal was not There,
"
but for the grace of God, go I," but There, in the reality
which is God indwelling, go I in very fact and deed."
Their sins were in some sense his sins, and their pain his
own ;
in joining himself to the common bond which linked
them all in one great brotherhood he shared in their
sorrows and their joy. He entered into their lives in a
sense which was no longer figurative, for in his union with
the Life of them all he became one with their essence. He
"
was, as Celano says, among the saints, holier* than they;
among the sinners, like one of themselves.'* He knew
himself for them in God, for he had left the valley of
separation and dwelt upon the mountain whence all is
seen as one.
But just as in St. Francis' relations with mankind, when
all the attributions of symbolism have been exhausted,
there remains over something which cannot be accounted
for by imagining him to have regarded Christ as symbolized
by the poor, so when all the possibilities of symbolism have
been exhausted in reference to his attitude towards nature,
there remains over something which demands a deeper
explanation. And, with nature as with mankind, it was
the sacramentalism of the spirit that supplemented and
crowned that of the mind.
This deeper sacramentalism, it has been noticed, is the
prerogative of those only who are conscious of, and to
some extent in, the spirit. It is a mystery of which the
final secrets are
automatically guarded against profanation.
But admittedly a side of the union which receives less
it is

emphasis at the hands of some mystics than of others, and

the suggestion has been put forward that a certain fear of

1
Celano, i, 83.
370
 St. Francis of Assist
pantheism may account for the lack of such emphasis in
some of the cases. This does not appear, however, to
cover the entire ground. It must be conceded that the
tendencies of a temperament remain to some extent effective
even after the full Union: the structure built up by the
inclinations of a lifetime is not finally demolished by the
entrance of the spirit into the consciousness. There are
natural channels of reception as of expression, and that
which is everywhere and at all times will enter by the
channels which are naturally most active. The way will
have been worn free by a certain use, and the entrance will
be effected by whatever way is most
open. It will depend
inevitably on the conscious direction of attention during
normal life, so that although all roads lead to and from the
spiritual city, there will be one in particular which will be
peculiar to each. It will be that in which he has approached
most nearly to a penetration of the surface film, by interest,
by enthusiasm, by love. And the expression that he may
give to his experience will depend no less surely on the
furniture of the mind. The symbols used, the whole
attitude and atmosphere, almost the very words them-
selves if words be used will be those with which the
normal consciousness is most concerned.
For those who become awake to the God immanent in
nature there will have been, therefore, an inevitable
preparation, on whatever levels of consciousness it has
been accomplished. So much can be postulated from the
result, and with St. Francis it is more than borne out by the
evidence. He was, in the first place, that kind of poet to
whom nature is an unfailing attraction and a ceaseless cause
of delight. His continual use of it symbolically suggests
the impression it made on him: it can be read between the
lines of all his history. He was typically Umbrian in his
love of the sun and wide places, and the country round
Assisi provided him with an unceasing variety of impres-
371 .,
 St. Francis of Assist
sions. The covered in his time with a dense forest,
plain,
stretches out below the town to the blue hills of the horizon ;
the mountain above is bleak and barren and inhospitable;
the river valley behind the hill is a place of untouched
desolation. Nature in its utmost nakedness lies by the side
of nature in its most stupendous fertility; it reflects the
heights and the depths of the soul and all the gradations
between them. It is a place of sun and laughter, of terror
and despair, a place of deep content, but in all its moods
and at all its seasons it holds a subtle power of suggestion
a hint that it is not all. Jt has a glamour, a vitality, a
wonder a quality of sacramentalism that is
supreme.
And, in the second place, St. Francis* natural attraction
towards this surrounding beauty, even before he came to
realize its deeper significance, stands out from an incident
of his early days. Before he had begun to think seriously
of the aim or the meaning of his existence he fell ill, and
when he was convalescent went out into the country.
"
But neither the beauty of the fields, the pleasantness of
the vineyards, nor anything that is fair to see could in any
wise delight him. Wherefore he wondered at the sudden
1
change in himself -," and that moment was the first dim
. .

intimation of the greater change that was to come upon

him. But the keenness of his disappointment was the
measure of his former fondness.
There is recorded, at the end of his life, an event which
stands in striking contrast to this. St. Francis was at Rieti,
some time after the Stigmatization, while attempts were
being made to cure his blindness, and he asked one of the
brothers to console him in his pain by playing to him.
"The children of this world," he said, "understand not the
sacraments of God; and musical instruments appointed
of old for God's praise have been converted by men's lust

1
Celano, i, 3.

372
 St. Francis of Assist
intomeans of giving pleasure to their ears." * Such a state-
ment contains the essence of the sacramental attitude.
St. Francis realized that if a man's concern were pre-

eminently with the outer world of sense, music became

merely an entertaining arrangement of sounds; but that
for others, and himself among the number, it had a deeper
import than could be expressed. There was a reality
beneath sound as there was a reality beneath matter; the
spirit which gave life and being to the tangible world lay no
less surely behind the intangible world, and the key which
had opened the one to his comprehension threw open the
other also. To him, therefore, music was an expression of
the one universal life; it was one aspect of the divine
expressing its sweetness to the divine in all places. Music,
with all that he saw and felt and heard, had its beginning
and its end in God.
But with his notorious dislike of intellectual subtleties it

isuseless to look for any detailed exposition of St. Francis*

most intimate beliefs, either in his own writings, or in those
of his biographers. Such a series of declarations as to God
as Substance, as is to befound in the Revelations of Lady
Julian, unlettered though she were, is quite foreign to him,
yet there are nevertheless intimations of the presence of
such a doctrine in his mind. On the occasion already
referred to when he was distressed at the adulation of the
2
people, he expressed the opinion that the servant of God
is but as the wood on which a
picture of the Lord and the
Blessed Virgin is painted the honour is to God, and none-
:

of it to the man. And the reason adduced was that in

respect of God the man is less than the wood and the
"
picture, nay, he is pure nothing." The apparent world,
that is, ultimately an unreality; in respect of or in
is

comparison with the world of divinity its solidity is illusory

1 2
Celano, ii, 126. Cf. Bonaventure, v, II. See above, p. 53.
373
 St. Francis of Assist
and unrealto the point of non-existence, for those who can
see below the surface. For the essence of man is of one
nature with the essence of the world, and both man and
the world have their life and form from it. It underlies and
sustains and gives meaning to them all. For
they beif

nothing in themselves, it is
only God as universal Substance
which can be their reality.
And St. Francis saw quite clearly this life of reality
behind the appearance; it was the link of his amazing
brotherhood with all creation. His original love for them
helped to lead him to such a vision; his final love and
intimate sympathy resulted from it. Celano says vividly
"
of him that in a surpassing manner, of which other men
had no experience, he discerned the hidden things of
creation with the eye of the heart, as one who had already
1
escaped into the glorious liberty of the children of God."
And Brother Leo with great aptness emphasizes the essen-
"
tial
point: he discerned perfectly the goodness of God
not only in his own soul . but in every creature." * For
. .

the discernment in the creature resulted from the discern-

ment in his own soul. Again with remarkable accuracy:
"
We who were with him used to see him rejoice, within
and without, as it were, in all
things created; so that
touching or seeing them his spirit seemed to be not on
3 " "
earth, but in heaven." For it was literally in heaven
that he regarded them from the vantage ground of the
spirit. A
further passage of Celano describes this sacra-
"
mentalism of the spirit more fully: In every piece of
workmanship he praised the Craftsman ; whatever he found
done he referred to the Doer of it. He exulted in all the
works of the Lord's hands, and penetrated through those
pleasant sights to their life-giving Cause and Principle.
In beautiful things he recognized Him who is supremely
1 2
Celano, i, 81. Mirror, cxiii.
3
Ibid., cxviii.

374
 6V. Francis of Assisi
good things cried out to him, He who
'

beautiful; all
made us is the Best.' Everywhere he followed the Beloved
by the traces He has impressed on all things he made for :

himself of all things a ladder whereby he might reach the

Throne." 1
It is, then, from this consciousness of the creatures' one-
ness in the plane of spirit, from this penetration to their
common source of life, that sprang the close sympathy and
love with and for them all that has come to be the best
known side of St. Francis' character. When he composed
the Praises of the Creatures, the immortal Canticle of
Brother Sun, in a moment of spiritual exaltation at San
Damiano, he spoke from knowledge, and not at the
promptings of a tender poetical fancy. The sun was to
him obviously his brother and the moon his sister, he recog-
nized his actual kinship with his brother the wind and his
sister the water, with his brother the fire and his sister and
mother the earth, and finally, with great gratitude and
exultation, with his tender sister death. They were he
and he was they, for all were God. Small wonder, then,
if the biographies are filled with anecdotes in illustration
of his kindness and his care towards every kind of beast;
the surprise would be if they were absent. They stand in
a different class from such as record the objects of his
.

symbolic reverence; they are at once more human and

more vital. It is, moreover, as inevitable that the animals
should feel a trust and a confidence on their side, since the
instinctby which they were prompted would seem to be
nearer the source of life than is the power of reasoning. It
makes up in sureness what it lacks in self-consciousness.
To him who would pick the worms out of the road so
that they might not be trodden on, who would provide
1
Celano, ii, 165; Bonaventure, ix, I. See also Bonaventure, viii, 6,
where St. Francis is spoken of as hailing the animals as brothers " for-
asmuch as he recognized in them the same origin as in himself,"
375
 St. Francis of Assisi
honey and the choicest wine for the bees so that they might
not starve in the winter, 1 who would buy turtle doves from a
2
passer-by intent on taking them to the market to him all
the animals responded. The cicala would come and perch
on his hand when he was at the Portiuncula, and he would
"
exhort to join its praises with his.
it Sing, my sister
3
cicala, and praise the Lord thy Creator with a joyful song."
A leveret which had been caught in a trap was brought to
him by one of the brothers, and on being released, ran to
St. Francis and hid in the folds of his habit. It returned

again and again after being taken away, and a rabbit once
showed equal confidence on the island in Lake Trasimene. 4
He would put the fish back into the water if any were
5
offered to him, calHng them by the name of brother, and
on one occasion when a pheasant was sent to him to eat,
he took it gratefully, saying: "Praised be our Creator,
brother pheasant." He then told the brothers to take it
some distance away, to see whether it would rather be free
or return to him, but they found that however often they
took it away it came back continually to St. Francis,
"
almost forcing its way under the tunics of the brethren
who were at the door." 6 And if these things be credible,
as surely they are without any effort of faith, is the famous
story of the wolf of Gubbio any less credible ?
7
The
difference between gaining the confidence of a leveret and
succeeding in subduing the rapacity of a wolf is one of
degree only, and not of kind, and it suggests an exaggerated
timidity to insist, as has been done frequently, that the story

1
Celano, i, 80 ; ii, 165.
2
Little Flowers, xxii.
3
Celano, ii, 171; Bonaventure, viii, 9.
*
Celano, i, 60 ; Bonaventure, viii, 8.
6
Celano, i, 61 j Bonaventure, loc. fit.
6
Celano, ii, 170; Bonaventure, viii, 10.
7
It is given in all its quaint beauty in chap, xxi of the Little Flowers.

37 6
 Sf. Francis of Assist
isa legend embodying the tale of a peace concluded between
1
St. Francis and a rapacious nobleman.
The same consciousness of brotherhood lay beneath his
no less famous sermons to the creatures. It was not, surely,
despair of humanity which drove him to preaching to the
animals, nor a pathetic and fantastic belief that they were
in need of spiritual exhortation, but the result of his know-

ledge of their reality. It was a spontaneous outburst of

praise and gladness, which so filled all his consciousness
that he cried out to the very flowers and beasts of the fields
to join their praises to his. He knew the life with which
they pulsated and thrilled, and knew that it was of God,
and he directed, as it were, their gratitude through the
medium of his own consciousness. So, when he was
walking through the country and came upon great masses
of flowers, he would talk to them and invite them to praise
God, and there was no kind of thing created that he felt
to be without the power to do this. The cornfields and the
vineyards, the trees and the grasses of the fields, the stones
and the waters of the rivers, his dear brother fire and the
very earth, the air, the wind, and the sky he would have
them all join in the universal chorus of praise. 2 And
what he said on such occasions may be gathered in sub-
stance, though probably not in accurate detail, from the
"
traditional sermon to the birds. My
sisters the birds,
much are ye beholden unto God your creator, and alway
1
Cf., e.g., Joergensen, Sf. Francois, book ii, chap, iii, p. 14.7. Le
Monnier, Histoire de St. Frangols, vol. ii, p. 303, regards the incident as
Dr. A. Bournet, St. Franfo'u d 'Assise, Etude sociale et medi-
}

unauthentic ;

cate,Lyon, 1893, p. 78, is of opinion that it symbolizes the pacifying

influence of St. Francis on the society of his time. So, also, with great
ingenuity, Tamassia, S. Francesco cT Assist e la sua Leggenda, pp. 203-12.
For a detailed discussion of the probabilities see // Lupo dl Gubbio, by
P. Bartolomasi, Min. Conv., in Miscellanea Francescana^ vol. x, fasc. ii,
Foligno, 1906.
3
Celano, i, 81.
377
 St. Francis of Assist
and in every place ought ye to praise Him, because He hath
given you liberty to fly wheresoever ye will, and hath
clothed you on with twofold and threefold raiment. More-
over, He preserved your seed in the ark of Noah that your
race might not be destroyed. Again, ye are beholden unto
Him for the element of the air which He hath appointed
for you; furthermore, ye sow not neither do ye reap; yet
God feedeth you and giveth you rivers and fountains
wherefrom to drink He giveth you mountains and valleys
;

for your refuge, and high trees wherein to build your nests ;
and, in that ye know not how to sew nor spin, God clotheth
you and your little ones ; wherefore doth your Creator love
you seeing that He giveth you so many benefits. Guard
yourselves, therefore, my sisters the birds, from the sin of
1
ingratitude and be ye ever mindful to give praise to God.*'
This is the note of the beginning, the continuation, and
the end of the life of St. Francis the mystic. It is the call of
one who has found God in the Centre of his soul, hailing
that God in all things and unceasingly proclaiming His
praise.
1
Little Flowers, xvi. Cf. Celano, i, 58 ; Bonaventure, xii, 3.

378
 Jtppendix
ST. FRANCIS AND THE NECESSITY OF
PENANCE.
(See -page 106)

THE Catholic position that St. Francis did not disregard

penance is based on four points :

1. Because of the inherent impossibility of a difference

of view between a saint and the Church that has canonized
him.
2. That St. Francis distinguished between mortal and
venial sins, and followed the example of Christ in His
treatment of the woman taken in adultery, in respect of
venial sins only.
3. That those who are to have no power of enjoining
"
any other penance save Go and sin no more " are the
brothers not in orders, and not the priests.
4. That a reference to penance occurs in both the:First
and Second Rules.

As regards the first point enough has been said in the

text in respect of both St. Francis and St. Teresa, to show
that the language and conduct of canonized saints some-
times runs strikingly counter to the Church. Such seems
simply to be the fact, and it is difficult to see what good may
be expected to arise from its denial.
On the second point, it is clear that a distinction between
379
 St. Francis of Assist
mortal and venial sins did exist in St. Francis' mind. So
much is made clear by his treatment of them separately in
the letter under question, but there is nothing to show that
he intended to limit his instruction as to penance to those
who had committed venial sins only.
1
His appreciation
of the greater gravity of mortal sin is shown by the care
with which he arranges for the treatment of a brother who
had committed such a sin, but there is no mention of
penance in his case. The Catholic comment "
on such an
omission is that nothing was said about it because con-
2
fession and penance would follow as a matter of course,"
but it is scarcely conceivable that when St. Francis was
especially concerned to express his views on the course to
be followed in regard to the treatment of sin, he should
leave anything open to question, and more especially any-
thing of such vital moment as penance. It would seem
more reasonable and more in accordance with the evidence
of the letter as stands, to suppose that St. Francis
it

expounded his view of the treatment to be meted out to

those who had committed mortal and venial sins, separately
as regards the immediate action to be taken, and finally
summed up the question of penance (which would be the
ultimate question in any such case) for both kinds of sin.
The mortal sin is to be reported and the sinner sent to the
custos, the venial sin is to be confessed to the nearest priest,
or failing that, to any brother; so far St. Francis legislates
differently for the two cases; but he clinches the whole
matter of the final treatment in either case by forbidding
"
any other penance than Go and sin no more."
As to those to whom the instruction to say these words
to the sinner was addressed, the Latin version is as follows :

1
That he did so is suggested by, e.g., M. Joergensen, St. Franfois,

bookiii, chap, xii, p. 377.

2
M. Carmichael, The Writings of St. Francis,in The Month, February,
1904, p. 163.
3 80
 ^Appendix
"'Et peccato veniali ceciderit confiteatur fratri suo
si in alio
non fuerit ibi sacerdos confiteatur fratri suo
sacerdoti, et si
donee habebit sacerdotem qui eum absolvat canonice sicut
dictum est.Et isti penitus non habeant potestatem in-
'

jungendi aliam paenitentiam nisi istam: Vade et amplius

noli peccare.' n
'
As it stands, there is nothing in this
" "
passage to decide who are the isti who shall have no
further powers of inflicting penance, but it is a perfectly
reasonable supposition that the word refers to the persons
who have been last mentioned. These are the priests, and
" "
the whole last sentence, from Et isti down to " peccare"
appears to stand in some degree as a qualification of
"
canonice." There would have been no reason to insert
such a word if confession and penance were to follow in the
ordinary course, and its presence suggests that St. Francis*
intention was that the procedure was to be canonical, with
the qualification as to penance which follows. Mr. Car-
michael, however, complains that M. Sabatier has taken
"
the words in just this sense: too ready to believe in the
impossible phenomenon of a St. Francis in hostility to his
" "
mother the Church he has inferred, even with the full
* '
text of the letter before him, that the isti are the superiors
2
of the Order and its priests." Mr. CarmichaeFs own view
" *'
is that the isti refers to the brothers who are not in
orders, and that they therefore who have no power to
it is

enjoin penance. But there is no evidence to show that the

fantastic conception of one brother enjoining penance on
another ever entered into St. Francis' mind. It is so
directly in opposition to the whole of the Franciscan spirit
that it is difficult to take the suggestion seriously. But
this objection apart, Mr. Carmichael suggests that one of
the reasons for the omission of any reference to confession,
in the first paragraph of the English version that has been
1
Bartholdus, Traft. de indulgently ed. Sabatier, p. 115.
3
M. Carmichael, lac. cit.
381
 St. Francis of Assis i
quoted in the text, is that both guardian and custos were
oftenenough not priests. If this were so, if the fad: of not
being a priest were sufficient to make St. Francis omit any
reference to confession of a mortal sin to such a person, the
feeling would surely have been strong enough to make it
impossible for the idea of explicitly forbidding them to
enjoin penance for venial sin, to have entered his mind.
The supposition seems less irrational, that St. Francis
limited confession to an ordinary brother to cases of venial
sin, and forbade penance for either kind of sin.
The fact that references to penance occur in both the
First and Second Rules is mentioned by the same writer.
There does not seem any possibility of Chapter 20 of the
First Rule (where the reference occurs) having formed part
of the Primitive Rule, 1 but there are no means ofjudging its
exact date. It takes the form of a recommendation to the
brethren to receive penance and absolution from the priests
in the knowledge that they will be absolved if they observe
2
faithfully the penance enjoined them. Granting its
there is no reason to doubt) there is
genuineness (which
ample time between any date that can be assigned to it
within the bounds of probability, and the probable date of
the letter, which is put at I223, 3 for a change of mind on
the part of St. Francis. It is not possible to tie him down
to a view expressed at one time, when at a later and maturer
moment of his life he appears to have discarded it. It
might be replied that the injunction of penance in the Rule
of 1223 was an example of a yet maturer view, by a few
months, but there does not appear to be any possibility
of that Rule representing St. Francis* own ideals. Bio-
graphers both Catholic and non-Catholic agree on this, and
one of the former permits himself to say that it is almost
horrifying to see how little there is in it of what St. Francis
a
1
See Cuthbert, Life, p. 402. , Writings,. p. 53.
3
Ibid., p. 119.

382
 ^Appendix
would have wished. 1
To claim the dry and essentially
businesslike insistence on penance which is found in
Chapter 7 as evidence of either the wish or the spirit of St.
Francisis therefore of no avail.

1
Joergensen, Sf. Franfois, book iii, chap, xii, p. 376. Cf. Cuthbert,
Lifey p. 322 ; Sabatier, Viet chap, xv, and Bartholi, Colleftion de Docu-
**
mentSy etc^ p. 128, where he says : It is sufficient to read the Rule of 1 223
to see that though the vague formulas about mercy have been retained,
the precise injunction which should have been one of the characteristics
of the Franciscan Order, has been prudently left aside." See also Dr.
Lempp, Frere Elte de Cortone, p. 51, who regards the Rule of 1223 as the
result of a compromise. t

383
 Index
PAGES
ACRE, BISHOP OF 174
ALCHEMY, SYMBOLISM OF 317
ALVERNIA, MONTE 306, 308
ANGELA OF FOLIGNO 275
ANTHONY OF PADUA, ST. 180-1, 187
AQUINAS, ST. THOMAS, ON PURE LOVE 277
ASCETICISM A MEANS ONLY 193
ASCETICISM AND TRANSMUTATION 193 et seq.

ATTENTION, IMPORTANCE OF 118

BARTHOLOMEW OF PISA, LIBER CONFORMITATUM IOO

BEGGING, MODERN VIEW OF 149
BERGSON, H.: 157 et seq.
ON INTELLIGENCE AND INSTINCT 161 et seq.
ON INTUITION 163-5
BERNARD OF QUINTAVALLE 148
BLAKE, WILLIAM 165
BODY AS STANDING FOR THE LOWER SELF 29, 40, 191
BODY, MYSTICS' VIEW OF THE INADEQUACY OF 192
BOEHME, JACOB I
^4-$y 169,170, 171, 236
BROTHERHOOD A RESULT OF SPIRITUAL REALIZATION 352-4

CANTICLE OF THE SUN 3IO, 36 1-2, 368, 375

CARCERI 304
CATHANII, PETER 9 J > 93
CATHERINE OF GENOA, ST. 2
124, 36, 32O and HOtC, 348,
352, 355
CHAPTER OF MATS 178, 296
CHAPTER OF MICHAELMAS, I22O 9O
385 BB
 St. Francis of Assist
PAGES
CHASTITY 1
90 et seq.
CHRIST AS THE HIGHER SELF 32O et Seq.
CHURCH'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS THE MYSTICS
'*
78 et seq.
CLARE, ST. 98, 220-2, 302
CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 55 note, l6l
CONTEMPLATION, DEFINITIONS OF
CONTEMPLATION AND INTUITION 167, 169
CONSCIOUSNESS, STATES OF 26
CONSCIOUSNESS AS CONSTITUTING THE MAN 322 6t Seq.
CONVERSION THE RESULT OF LOVE 184
CUTHBERT, FATHER 44 HOtC 2, 85, 1 04 note, 105 HOtC,
147, 245 note

DESIRE, DIRECTION OF 1 1 8 t Seq.

DESIRE, DIVISION OF 119

DETACHMENT AND LITERAL POVERTY I2O-I, 124 & Seq.
DIVINE UNION, DEGREES OF

ECKARTSHAUSEN, KARL VON 17!

EMOTIONS TYPIFIED BY THE BODY I 90 6t Seq.
EMPIRICAL EGO 2 5" 2 7
EXPERIENCES OF THE MYSTICS 235 et Seq.

FENELON 2 76-7, 282

FRANCIS, ST., CHARACTERISTICS OF!
ANIMALS, KINSHIP WITH 375 6t Seq.
ASCETICISM 200 et seq.
ACCEPTANCE OF BLAME 52~3, 55
REALIZATION OF BROTHERHOOD 365 t Seq.
INFLUENCE OF CHIVALRY ON 84
ATTITUDE TOWARDS THE AUTHORITY OF THE
CHURCH 92 et seq.) 114 et seq.
HIS COURTESY A SPIRITUAL PRODUCT 369
DISLIKE OF ECCENTRICITY 47
AFFECTION FOR FIRE AND WATER
3 86
 Index
PAGES

FRANCIS, ST., CHARACTERISTICS OF:

'
HIS FORCE OF CONVICTION 94 et seq.
HIS HUMILITY 46, 89, IOI-2
DISLIKE OF HYPOCRISY 2C4
HIS INTUITION l8y
CONCERNED WITH LIFE RATHER THAN DOCTRINE 1 13
LOVE THE MOTIVE OF HIS LIFE 243 6t S6q.
THE MONASTIC VOWS FUNDAMENTAL TO HIM 83
RETICENCE ABOUT MYSTICAL EXPERIENCES 257 6t Seq.
GRATITUDE FOR MYSTICAL EXPERIENCES 262
INCREASED EFFECTIVENESS AFTER MYSTICAL
EXPERIENCES 307 Ct S6q.
LOVE OF NATURE 37 1-2
POWER OF HIS PERSONALITY 311 6t
DISLIKE OF PRAISE AND ADULATION 5 2 "3?
HIS PRAYER 142, 86, 257 et seq.
1

PRAYER, HIS USE OF, TO RESTORE SPIRITUAL JOY 256

DISLIKE OF PRIVILEGES IOI-2
HIS USE OF PROVENCAL 50, 251 and note
SPIRITUAL SACRAMENTALISM tfO 6t Seq.
DESIRE FOR SIMPLICITY I 82-3

NEED FOR SOLITUDE 304 6t Seq.

ACCEPTANCE OF UNSOUGHT SUFFERING 217-8
TENDENCY TO SYMBOLISM 357 6t S6q.
HIS UNCONVENTIONALITY 48
THE UNMERCENARY ATTITUDE 292 6t Seq.
HIS ATTITUDE TOWARDS WOMEN 219 et $e<l'

FRANCIS, ST., EVENTS IN THE LIFE OF:

AT BOLOGNA I 77
37 J

AT GRECCIO 305
AT ORTE 3OO
AT PERUGIA 96
AT ROME 94, 131, 134, 189, 2O5
AT HERMITAGE OF SARTIANO 211, 222
AT SIENA I 88
387
 St. Francis of Assisi
PAGES
FRANCIS, ST., EVENTS IN THE LIFE OF:
AT LAKE TRASIMENE 304
THE SERMON TO THE BIRDS 33> 377
AND ST. CLARE 22O-2, 302
COMMISSION OF HIS ORDER TO THE CHURCH 99
DEVIATIONS FROM CONFORMITY 9 2 ~3
DISINHERITANCE 136
"
THE HERALD OF THE GREAT KING " 2I7
THE LEPERS 2O3, 244
AS PEACEMAKER 367-8
PRIMITIVE RULE, APPROVAL OF 94
PROTEST AGAINST PROTECTION IO2
RESIGNATION FROM LEADERSHIP OF THE ORDER 90
THE ROBBERS 367
THE SPIRITUAL MARRIAGE 337
THE STIGMATA 48, 259-60, 306
THE DIVINE UNION 337 t SCq.
THE WOLF OF GUBBIO 376
FRANCIS, ST., TEACHING AND OPINIONS OF, AS TO :

MODERATION IN ABSTINENCE 2O8

BEGGING $o, 14.6 et seq.
BEGGING AS A SPIRITUAL EXERCISE 51
THE BODY AS SYMBOLIZING THE LOWER SELF 212 d/
CHASTITY 2l8 t
CHOICE BETWEEN THE ACTIVE AND CONTEMPLATIVE
LIVES 297-8, 300 et seq.
SYMBOLISM OF THE INTERIOR CHRIST 333 6t Seq.
COMMUNITY OF PROPERTY AMONG BRETHREN 139
MYSTICAL DEATH 60
DEPENDENCE ON GOD 60
SPIRITUAL ENVY 56
EXILE OF THIS LIFE T
44~5
THE HIGHER SELF AS CHRIST 33 1-2
THE HIGHER SELF AS DIVINE 46, 330 t S6q.
PERFECT JOY 43~4
388-
 Index
PAGES
FRANCIS, ST., TEACHING AND OPINIONS OF, AS TO I

INSISTENCE ON JOY 51, 245 et Seq., 253 et Seq*

JOY AS A PROTECTION AGAINST SIN 255
JOY FOUNDED ON LOVE 247
LEARNING 1 74 6t
Seq.
REVERENCE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD 2 5 I ~3
THE SACRAMENT OF THE MASS IO9 et S6q., 335~6
SPIRITUAL UNDERSTANDING OF MUSIC 37 2 ~3
MONASTICISM 2OO, 298-300
NON-GLORIFICATION IN MYSTICAL EXPERIENCE 263-4
RETICENCE ABOUT MYSTICAL EXPERIENCE . 2 6 1-2
OBEDIENCE i
;

84 6t SCq.
OBEDIENCE AND THE SIMILE OF THE CORPSE 85
PENANCE 106 et seq. 3 379 et seq.
POVERTY 129 etSeq.
PRAYER ,
186, 298, 302, 339 et seq*
THE PRIESTHOOD IO8 et Seq.
REALITY AND APPEARANCE 54, 373
THE NEED FOR REFORM 246
OVER-DETAILED RULES 2O6
SELF-ANNIHILATION 43 t S6q
SELF-ANNIHILATION AS AN INTERIOR PROCESS 57
SELF-COMPLACENCY 59
EXTREMES OF SELF-MORTIFICATION 209- 1 I
FOLLY OF SELF-TORTURE 207-8
SHYNESS 49
SIN 1 06 et
seq.
SLANDER 368-9
UNSOUGHT SUFFERING 217-8
TEMPTATION 249-50
UNEXPRESSED COMMANDS 89-90
WOMEN 222-3
FRANCIS, WRITINGS OF:
ST.,
ADMONITIONS 44 and note, 45, 46, 54, 55, 56, 57,
58, 87-8, 105, 109, 112 note, 138,

389
 St. Francis of Assist
PAGES
FRANCIS, ST., WRITINGS OF I

ADMONITIONS (cont.) 14!, 143, 176-7, 2O2, 2I2~3,

214, 217, 26l, 264, 330, 336
CANTICLE OF THE SUN 3IOj 361-2, 368, 375
FIRST RULE 83, 88, 104-5, IO 9> IX 3> IJ 4-5j I 4
207 note, 217, 222, 249, 254, 265,
366, 369 note, 382
LETTER TO A CERTAIN MINISTER IO6~7, 380 6t S6q.
LETTER TO ALL THE CUSTODES 3 IO
LETTER TO ALL THE FAITHFUL 1
05 note, 1 09 note,

'
297, 332, 333-5
LETTER TO ST. ANTHONY OF PADUA I 8 I

LETTER TO THE RULERS OF THE PEOPLE 3IO

OF LIVING RELIGIOUSLY IN A HERMITAGE 306-7
ON REVERENCE FOR THE LORD*S BODY, INSTRUCTION
in note
PARAPHRASE OF THE LORD*S PRAYER 340
PRAYER FOR UNION 339
PRAYER TO OBTAIN DIVINE LOVE 253
PRIMITIVE RULE ^3-4
SALUTATION OF THE VIRTUES 60, 8 5-6, 143 note, 183
SECOND RULE 45 note, 83, 89, 98, 103, 105, 112,
115-6, 144, 148, 1 80, 207 note,
296, 382, 383 note
WILL IO2-3, IO4, IIO-II, 144, l82, 2O3, 367
FREEMASONRY, SYMBOLISM OF 317

GOD AS SUBSTANCE 344 6t S6q.

GREGORY IX, POPE 98
GUYON, MADAME 79

HONORIUS III, POPE 96

HUGOLIN, CARDINAL 98, IOO, 2C>5
HUGOLIN RULE FOR THE POOR LADIES 98
390
 Index
PAGES
IMMANENCE OF GOD 228, 344, 346
IMOLA, BISHOP OF 112
INNOCENT III, POPE 95, 114
INTELLECT AND EMOTIONS, RELATION OF 179
INTELLECT, AS VIEWED BY M. BERGSON 157 et.Seq.
INTELLECT AS VIEWED BY THE MYSTICS !52-6, l6o
INTROVERSIO N 167
INTUITION 167, 169, I7I-2

JACQUELINE OF SETTESOLI 219

JAMES, WILLIAM 26, 27, 125
JOERGENSEN, j. 44 note 2, 86, 90 note, 92, 380 note,
383 note
JOHN OF ST. PAUL, CARDINAL 94~5
JOHN OF THE CROSS, ST. 64, 80, 140, 238, 268, 28 I, 318
JULIAN OF NORWICH, THE LADY 24, 33 note, 35, 36, 37,
55 note, 89, 236, 239, 280, 347-8, 352-3, 356
JUNIPER, BROTHER 183

LAWRENCE, BROTHER 236

LEO, BROTHER I 82
LOPUKHIN, i. v. 24, 39, 65 note, 317
LOVE, HUMAN AND SPIRITUAL 229 et se %'
LOVE, HUMAN, THE BEST PREPARATION FOR SPIRITUAL LOVE
232 et seq.
LOVE THE POSITIVE SIDE OF THE MYSTIC'S METHOD 225 & Seq.
LOVE, THE POWER OF 290
LOVE, THE UNIVERSALITY OF THE MYSTIC'S 226-7, ^S 1
'

LOYOLA, IGNATIUS 236

MEDITATION AND CONTEMPLATION 156, 234

MONASTIC VOWS 61
MOLINOS 34, 35, 79, 156, 249 note, 269, 278
MYSTICAL EXPERIENCE 235 6t Seq.
MYSTICAL EXPERIENCE, THE CRITERION OF 286
391
 St. Francis of Assist
PAGES
MYSTICAL EXPERIENCE, THE RESULT OF 282 6t S6q.
MYSTICAL PHENOMENA 237
MYSTICAL PHENOMENA, THE MYSTIC'S DEPRECATION OF
238 et seq.^ 267 et seq.
MYSTIC'S INSISTENCE ON EXPERIENCE 67
MYSTICS AND THE CHURCH .
68 t

ONENESS OF CREATION 349 et S6q.

ONENESS OF MAN*S SPIRIT AND GOD . 226
OSTIA, BISHOP OF 312

PASCAL 236
PATERENES Il6
PATMORE, COVENTRY 124, 2 ^?J 34^
PAUL, ST. 31, 38, 234, 276
PERSONAL IMMORTALITY, THE DESIRE FOR 273
PERSONAL WILL, THE DENIAL AND SUPERSESSION OF THE
62 et seq.
PORTIUNCULA 51, 93, 96, 136, 308, 313
PORTIUNCULA, INDULGENCE OF 96-7
POULAIN, A. 241, 242 note
POVERTY 1 20 et
seq.
POVERTY AS STANDING FOR THE SUBJUGATION OF THE
INTELLECT 152 et seq.
PROPRIETY AS PRODUCTIVE OF SEPARATENESS 122
PURE LOVE, THE DOCTRINE OF 276 6t Sq.

QUIETISM 72, 86, 278

REALITY AND APPEARANCE 345

RESIGNATION AND INDIFFERENCE 126
RIVO TORTO 136
RUYSBROECK 121, l6o, 167, 169
392
 Index
PAGES
SABATIER, 85 note, 90, 99 note, in note, 383 note
P.
SACRUM COMMERCIUM 12$
SAN DAMIANO 49, 134-5, 2O2, 22O2, 250-!, 307, 310,
313
SANTA MARIA DEGLI ANGELI 43, 22O-2, 253
SCARAMELLI, G. B. I
55~6 ) ^4!, 2yO
SELF, ANNIHILATION OF 23 6t Seq., 31, 34, 40, 4!
SELF, HIGHER, AS CHRIST 2 9s 33) 38-40
SELF, HIGHER, IDENTIFICATION WITH 3!
SELF IN MODERN PSYCHOLOGY 25-7
SELF, LOWER, ANGER CHARACTERISTIC OF 45
SELF, LOWER, APPROPRIATION CHARACTERISTIC OF 123
SELF, LOWER, ITS ATTITUDE IN FACE OF BLAME 54
SELF, LOWER, ITS DESIRE FOR PRAISE 52
SELF, LOWER, ITS SEPARATENESS 30, 32, 39, 40
SELF, LOWER, ITS RESENTMENT OF GOOD IN OTHERS 56
SELF, LOWER, ITS SELF-COMMENDATION 58
SELVES, HIGHER AND LOWER 28, 32, 34, 36, 37, 40
SOUL REGARDED AS SELF AS KNOWER 30
SPIRITREGARDED AS HIGHER SELF 29
SPIRITUAL MARRIAGE 172, 280, 283, 318
STACIA, PETER 137, 178
SYLVESTER, AS PRIEST AND BROTHER 135, 3 2
SYMBOLISM, THE NEED FOR 327

TAULER 275
TERESA, ST. 235, 24!, 268, 318
TERESA, ST., AND HER STATES OF PRAYER 72 6t Seq.
TERESA, ST., AND THE MONASTERY OF ST. JOSEPH 74 6t Seq.
THEOLOGIA GERMANICA 32, 33, 34, 71, 248, 27<D and note,
345- 6 > 354
THIRD ORDER 299
TRANSMUTATION OF DESIRE 1
93 t Seq.

UNION AND UNITY 325

393
 St. Francis of Assist
PAGES
UNION WITH GOD, THE MYSTIC'S AIM 315 6t S6q.
UNMERCENARY ATTITUDE OF THE MYSTIC 266 t S6q.
UNMERCENARY ATTITUDE, THE CHURCHES VIEW OF 274

VON HUGEL, BARON 276, 278 note, 279

WILL, UNIVERSALIZATION AND DENIAL OF 62 6t Sq.

CHISWICK PRIiSS CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND GRIGGS (PRINTERS), LTD.

:

TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON.