hrough the country in which they were placed.
But such quiet was not in the nature of Francis. So far as we can
make out, he had thought little of himself--even of his own soul to
be saved--all his life. The trouble on his mind had been what to
do, how sufficiently to work for God and to help men. His fellow
creatures were dear to him; he gave them his cloak from his
shoulders many a day, and the morsel from his own lips, and would
have given them the heart from his bosom had that been possible."

These are the "voices" that still echo in the air of Assisi. In the
suburbs is still shown the spot where the chapel of St. Damian stood up
a rocky path on the hillside in an olive grove. It was here that the
scene of the miracle of the crucifix is laid. Before the altar Francis
knelt, praying: "Great and Glorious Father, and thou, Lord Jesus, I pray
ye, shed abroad your light in the darkness of my mind. May I in all
things act in accordance with thy holy will."

It is recorded that while he thus knelt in deep prayer, he was unable to
turn his eyes from the cross, conscious that something marvellous was
taking place. The image of the Saviour assumed life; the eyes turned
attentively on him; a voice spoke accepting his service and he felt at
once endowed with the most marvellous tide of vitality, of joy, and of
exhilaration. At this moment he entered on that life whose impress is
left on the ages. Of the character and the peculiar quality of its
influence Mrs. Oliphant well says:--

"It is not always possible to follow with our sympathy that
literal, childlike rendering of every incident in the life of the
Master, which sometimes looks fantastical and often unmeaning. He
was a man of his time, and could live only under the conditions
which that time allowed. He made visible to a literal, practical,
unquestioning age the undeniable and astounding fact that the
highest of all beings chose a life of poverty, hardship, and
humbleness; that He chose submission instead of resistance, love
instead of oppression, peace and forgiveness instead of revenge and
war. Christ had died in their hearts, as said the legend of that
Christmas at Greccia; and, as in one of the bold and artless
pictures just then beginning to yield to a more refined and subtle
art, Francis set forth before the world the image of his Master.
The Son of man was l