cles. So great was the crowd around him at times that it would
be impossible for any human voice to reach his furthest hearers. Yet
every word of the great preacher went with silvery tone and moving
power, as if wafted on angel breathings, to the ears of sinners whom
chance or grace had brought to join the immense crowd that surrounded
his rude platform. Each sermon brought hundreds to repentance. Eyes
that were long dry melted into tears, and hearts that were strangers
to every sweet and holy influence throbbed with emotion. Efforts to
check the pent-up feelings were expressed by louder and convulsive
sobs; some knelt and prayed, others beat their breasts in the agony
of contrition. The immense concourse of people, simple and religious
minded, at all times impressionable, were, under the appeals of Francis,
moved as in times of public calamity, and the whole crowd swayed to
and fro as the deep moved by the storm--now trembling in terror, now
ashamed of sin and ingratitude, and again encouraged with hope, whose
cheerful beams the orator would cause to dart through the dark clouds
he himself had gathered over their mental vision.

On one occasion a courtesan ridiculed from her bed-room window the
words of the saint. She fell dead immediately. When he heard of the
awful judgement passed on this hapless woman, he ordered her body to
be brought to him. Then, amidst a death-like silence, he cried out
in a voice of thunder that penetrated the regions of the damned:
"Catherine, where art thou now?"

The soul answered with a shriek that sent a thrill through the assembled
thousands: "In hell!"

Although in scenes of terror like these Francis thundered forth the
awful destinies of the judged, yet the mercy of God towards the sinner
was his favorite theme. He looked on himself as called in a special
manner to seek out the lost sheep, to soften down the roughness found
on the path of repentance, to aid in the struggles willing souls find
in their efforts at reformation. Francis knew, as all masters of the
spiritual life have learned, there is more power in the eloquence of
forgiving love than in the terrors of retribution; hence, with tears
and burning sentiments of sympathy for the erring children of men,
he led his hearers as it were by the hand to the Father of the
prodigal--to that Jesus who forgave and loved the penitent Magdalen.

Francis has now ascended his platform. The crowd are swelling around.
He raise