There is still another way of regarding the saints; the purely material
view, which denies the immediate action of supernatural power upon the
details of natural daily life, mental or physical. This view--or rather,
this abstention from seeing--is futile; because, without a particle of
actual proof to sustain its negative, it refuses to admit possibilities
of truth to which the really comprehensive and perceptive mind must
always hold itself open.

Saint Francis was born at Assisi, in Umbria, in 1182; near the close of
the twelfth century, which has been called a "century of mud and blood,
when darkness prevailed over light, evil over good, the flesh over the
spirit." Umbria was then, as it is now, a beautiful and fertile valley,
rich in citron, almond, aloe, with forest trees of oak and pine and fir,
to which long cultivation has added grapevines, engarlanding the elms,
and orchards of the pale-leaved olive-tree, that give the landscape a
somewhat transparent, aerial effect. The province is encircled on one
hand by the yellow Tiber; on the other, by the bluish foot-hills of the
Apennines; and it is full of ancient little towns, nestled in the vales,
or perched upon the airy hill-crests, with crenelated towers and
terraces which command far-reaching and inspiring views. Old Perugia
guards the northern entrance to this exquisite region; and five leagues
to the northeast of that town is the saint's birthplace, Assisi.

His father was Peter Bernard of Moriconi, better known as "Bernardone,"
a rich merchant who carried on extensive business with France. In those
days Italian merchants maintained a lavish mode of life, resembling that
of the nobles; and as the disorders of the period and the perils
attending travel compelled them to send armed escorts with their convoys
of merchandise, there was something of military daring and display
mingled with their business and their surroundings. The wife of
Bernardone, however, whose name was Pica (of the noble Bourlemont family
of Provence), was remarkable for her piety; the son--in this, as in so
many historic instances of genius or distinction--inheriting his rare
quality from the mother's side. She had but one other child, a younger
son, Angelo, who, notwithstanding his heavenly name, seems to have been
a boy after Bernardone's own pattern; since he, later on, reviled
Francis and called him a fool for his piety and self-renunciation.
Angelo's descendants were still living in A