his health was utterly undermined. We are told that "the
stomach could ill bear food, the internal organs were the seat of
constant sufferings, and all the members were weakened and painful."
Add to this almost total blindness, and we have a state of body that
would in itself be sufficient excuse for any phase of soul-difficulty,
darkness, or depression, had such assailed him. But how much worse
than his bodily pains must have been the heart-agony he suffered
through the insidious, elusive disease that was sapping the vitality
of the vast organization of which he was the tender Father. To the
very dregs Francis drained that cup of failure and defeat, which all
who are called to lead the vanguard of Christ's conquering host, have
at some time or another to drink more or less deeply. That is the time
when the cry, "If it be possible, let this cup pass from me," is wrung
from the tortured soul, and thrice happy are those who, out of an
intimate knowledge of God, can add, "Not my will, but Thine be done,"
assured that it is best simply because it is His. But it is only those
who know God and enjoy Him, who have confidence enough in Him not to
demand His reasons--those whose lives have not been mere service
alone--who can triumphantly and victoriously cry, "Thy will be done."
Such was Francis. Such were those of the whitest of God's saints, and
a like eternal, triumphant victory is ours, if we, too, are willing to
pay the full price--a life of utter self-renunciation.

[Sidenote: _An Operation._]

But to return. Up to the time when Francis became blind, he had
steadily refused to see any doctor or take any medicine; but after
much persuasion, on the part of the brethren and Ugolino, who firmly
believed that the Order would suffer collapse if Francis died, he gave
in to their request, and tried every remedy the Assisian doctors
presented. But he became no better, and from Assisi he was taken to
Rieti, to consult an oculist there. He suffered everything from the
rude, barbarous surgical treatment of the times, which knew little
beyond cauterization, bleeding, and drawing-plasters. But, as he
became rather worse than better, the Rieti oculist, who had learned to
love him, took him on to Siena, to see an old, celebrated oculist who
lived in that town. This man said that there was nothing for it but an
operation--a very painful one, too, for he would have to cauterize his
patient from the eyebrows to the ears. Francis said he w