en them, and
it ends by believing the prophet to be an emanation of the clergy.

This is one of the bitterest ironies of history.

Francis of Assisi is pre-eminently the saint of the Middle Ages. Owing
nothing to church or school he was truly _theodidact_,[3] and if he
perhaps did not perceive the revolutionary bearing of his preaching, he
at least always refused to be ordained priest. He divined the
superiority of the spiritual priesthood.

The charm of his life is that, thanks to reliable documents, we find the
man behind the wonder worker. We find in him not merely noble actions,
we find in him a life in the true meaning of the word; I mean, we feel
in him both development and struggle.

How mistaken are the annals of the Saints in representing him as from
the very cradle surrounded with aureole and nimbus! As if the finest and
most manly of spectacles were not that of the man who conquers his soul
hour after hour, fighting first against himself, against the suggestions
of egoism, idleness, discouragement, then at the moment when he might
believe himself victorious, finding in the champions attracted by his
ideal those who are destined if not to bring about its complete ruin, at
least to give it its most terrible blows. Poor Francis! The last years
of his life were indeed a _via dolorosa_ as painful as that where his
master sank down under the weight of the cross; for it is still a joy to
die for one's ideal, but what bitter pain to look on in advance at the
apotheosis of one's body, while seeing one's soul--I would say his
thought--misunderstood and frustrated.

If we ask for the origins of his idea we find them exclusively among the
common people of his time; he is the incarnation of the Italian soul at
the beginning of the thirteenth century, as Dante was to be its
incarnation a hundred years later.

He was of the people and the people recognized themselves in him. He had
their poetry and their aspirations, he espoused their claims, and the
very name of his institute had at first a political signification: in
Assisi as in most other Italian towns there were _majores_ and
_minores_, the _popolo grasso_ and the _popolo minuto_; he resolutely
placed himself among the latter. This political side of his apostolate
needs to be clearly apprehended if we would understand its amazing
success and the wholly unique character of the Franciscan movement in
its beginning.

As to its attitude toward the Church, it was th