how subtly
Satan can take the form of an Angel of Light.
"My brethren what do you advise me?" he asked. "Which do you consider
best--that I should attend to prayer, or that I should go and preach?
I am a simple man, that speaks without art. I have received the gift
of prayer more than of speaking. Besides, there is more profit in
prayer. It is the source of grace. In preaching, we only distribute to
others the gifts we have received. Prayer purifies the heart and
affections. It is the union with the one true and solid Good.
Preaching makes the feet of even the spiritual man dusty. It is a work
that distracts and dissipates, and leads to relaxation of discipline.
In short, in prayer we speak to God, and listen to Him. In preaching
we must use much condescension towards men, and living among them it
is often necessary to see, hear, think, and speak like them in too
human fashion. These are very serious objections. And yet there is a
reason that seems to give it most weight with God. It is that His only
Son left the bosom of the Father to save souls, and to instruct men by
His example and word. He gave all He had for our salvation. He kept
nothing for Himself. Therefore it seems to me more in conformity with
the Divine Will that I renounce a tranquil life and that I go to work
abroad. But what is your advice? Speak! What do you think I ought to
do?"
The respective merits of the question had been so equally weighed that
it is not surprising that the brethren, one and all, declared
themselves unable to give any advice. For several days they conferred,
but no clear light shone upon their conferences. It was an important
matter to decide, because the whole future conduct of the Order hung
upon the decision. As Francis would walk, so also would tread his
disciples. This fact, together with the general uncertainty, pressed
heavily upon his soul. One of the most spiritual of Francis'
historians says that God permitted him to pass through this darkness,
because He wanted His servant whom He had already made a prophet, to
learn by a striking example, that no inspiration comes to us from
ourselves. And more than this. He wished the merit and glory of
preaching to be consecrated by a species of oracle that could only be
attributed to Him.
[Sidenote: _How the Answer Came._]
This is how the answer came.
Francis, always little in his own eyes, was never ashamed of inquiring
of anyone, the simple as well as the learned, the
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