ews in this
respect. The rough robe of "beast color," tied in with a knotted rope,
is still to be seen to-day in many parts of the world. But Francis
very well knew that a certain kind of vanity can easily lurk in even
the coarsest of garments. He was, therefore, constantly on the watch,
and was always severe if he saw the least deviation from the rule. "It
is an infallible sign," he always said, "that fervour is cooling in
the soul." He never allowed his disciples to have more than two
tunics.

"It may be that one suffers a little," he said, "but what sort of
virtue is that that cannot suffer anything! To try and avoid all
mortifications under plea of necessity is a cowardly way of losing
occasions of merit. It is what the Hebrews would have done had they
gone back to Egypt."

[Sidenote: _Fatherly Care._]

It was more by personal example than anything else that Francis led
his followers in the Divine steps that he was so confident had been
also marked out for him. And his people believed in him and loved him.
They were convinced that through him spoke the Divine voice, and that
his way was God's way. And he was worthy of their belief and their
love and their esteem. He loved them with a devoted, generous love. By
his entire forgetfulness of self and his constant devotion to their
needs, he was theirs, always to "serve." Many stories are told of his
gentle, delicate kindliness and fatherly care. Once, one of his flock
had gone a little too far in depriving himself of natural food. That
night, in the silence, came a voice from his room which groaned
softly, "I am starving, I am starving of hunger!" Francis, who was
awake, rose quietly, and, getting together some food, went to the
starving brother and invited him to eat with him, so as not to hurt
his feelings or let it appear that he had been overheard. After he had
eaten, he explained to him the evil of not giving the body what was
necessary for it.

Another brother, who was ill, had a great longing for grapes, but
feared to indulge himself in case he should be breaking his vows.
Francis found out, some way or other, how he felt, and, going to him,
led him out into a vineyard, and, gathering some rich clusters, seated
himself on the ground, and, beginning to eat, invited his companion to
join him. If any were weak and ailing, it was always Francis who was
first to take a vessel and go out and beg for more nourishing food for
his ailing comrades. A mother could not