her son would become a Christian. In this
atmosphere was nurtured "the sweet-souled saint of mediaeval Italy," who
is described as a figure of magical power, whose ardent temperament and
mystic loveliness attracted to him all men.

There is also a legend that Pica went to pray at the Portiuncula and
that, for seven years, she prayed for a son. Her prayer was answered in
the coming of the infant who was to be the great saint of all the ages.
Francis, in his childhood, also knelt and prayed at this shrine. In the
year 1211, when Francis was twenty-nine years of age and had entered on
his ministry, this chapel was given to him, "and no sooner had they come
to live here," it is said, "than the Lord multiplied their number from
day to day." At one time he had gone to his devotions in great
depression of spirits, "when, suddenly, an unspeakable ecstasy filled
his breast. 'Be comforted, my dearest,' he said, 'and rejoice in the
Lord, and let us not be sad that we are few; for it has been shown to me
by God that you shall increase to a great multitude and shall go on
increasing to the end of the world. I see a multitude of men coming to
me from every quarter--French, Spaniards, Germans, English--each in
their different tongues encouraging the others.'"

At a distance of perhaps a mile and a half from Assisi, down in the
valley near the railroad station, four holy pilgrims founded a shrine in
the fourth century. Later, on this site, St. Benedict erected a tiny
chapel, called "St. Maria della Portiuncula" (St. Mary of the Little
Patron), and once, when praying in the chapel, Benedict had a vision of
a vast crowd of people kneeling in ecstasy, chanting hymns of praise,
while outside greater multitudes waited to kneel before the shrine, and
he took this to mean that a great saint would one day be honored there.

So the legends, still conversationally told in Assisi, run on and are
locally current. Undoubtedly the dwellers in this curious old town,
whose streets have hardly one level spot but climb up and down the steep
hillside, realize that their saint is their title to fame and their
revenue as well; yet through all the tales there breathes a certain
sincerity and simplicity of worship. The little dark primitive shops
teem with relics, which make, it is true, a great draft on imagination,
and by what miracle modern photography has contrived to present the
saint of Assisi in various impressive attitudes and groups it would be
as