inward voice, long processions of souls athirst for the ideal. The
human heart so naturally yearns to offer itself up, that we have only to
meet along our pathway some one who, doubting neither himself nor us,
demands it without reserve, and we yield it to him at once. Reason may
understand a partial gift, a transient devotion; the heart knows only
the entire sacrifice, and like the lover to his beloved, it says to its
vanquisher, "Thine alone and forever."

That which has caused the miserable failure of all the efforts of
natural religion is that its founders have not had the courage to lay
hold upon the hearts of men, consenting to no partition. They have not
understood the imperious desire for immolation which lies in the depths
of every soul, and souls have taken their revenge in not heeding these
too lukewarm lovers.

Francis had given himself up too completely not to claim from others an
absolute self-renunciation. In the two years and more since he had
quitted the world, the reality and depth of his conversion had shone out
in the sight of all; to the scoffings of the early days had gradually
succeeded in the minds of many a feeling closely akin to admiration.

This feeling inevitably provokes imitation. A man of Assisi, hardly
mentioned by the biographers, had attached himself to Francis. He was
one of those simple-hearted men who find life beautiful enough so long
as they can be with him who has kindled the divine spark[2] in their
hearts. His arrival at Portiuncula gave Francis a suggestion; from that
time he dreamed of the possibility of bringing together a few companions
with whom he could carry on his apostolic mission in the neighborhood.

At Assisi he had often enjoyed the hospitality of a rich and prominent
man named Bernardo di Quintavalle,[3] who took him to sleep in his own
chamber; it is easy to see how such an intimacy would favor confidential
outpourings. When in the silence of the early night an ardent and
enthusiastic soul pours out to you its disappointments, wounds, dreams,
hopes, faith, it is difficult indeed not to be carried along, especially
when the apostle has a secret ally in your soul, and unconsciously meets
your most secret aspirations.

One day Bernardo begged Francis to pass the following night with him, at
the same time giving him to understand that he was about to make a grave
resolution upon which he desired to consult him. The joy of Francis was
great indeed as he divined h