It stands there still
with its rough, antique walls, in all the prestige of its marvellous
past. "I know not what perfume of holy poverty," says a pious author,
"exhales from that venerable chapel. The pavement within is literally
worn by the knees of the pious faithful, and their repeated and burning
kisses have left their imprint on its walls."]
Francis, in the midst of his prodigious austerities, living always in
the greatest privation, united, nevertheless, the most tender
compassion for men and a marvellous love for poverty. He prayed above
all, and with tears and groans, for the conversion of sinners. But one
night--it was in October, 1221--Francis being inspired with a greater
love and a deeper pity for men who were offending their God and
Saviour, shedding torrents of tears, macerating his body, already
attenuated by excessive mortifications, hears, all at once, the voice
of an Angel commanding him to repair to the chapel of the Portiuncula.
Ravished with joy, he rises immediately, and entering with profound
respect into the chapel, he falls prostrate on the ground, to adore the
majesty of God. He then sees Our Lord Jesus Christ, who appears to him,
accompanied by His Holy Mother and a great multitude of Angels, and
says to him: "Francis, thou and thy brethren have a great zeal for the
salvation of souls; indeed, you have been placed as a torch in the
world and as the support of the Church.
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