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In his undertaking Bonaventure had before him an ideal. He wished to present Francis as the chosen servant of God, raised up to be the founder and head of a great Religious Order. Accordingly, his attention is fixed on the supernatural rather than on the natural element in Francis, and he deals more with those aspects of his life and character that bring him within practical reach of his spiritual children than with those that lift him up into a sphere so high that the ordinary soul dares not aspire to it. He distinguishes judiciously between what Francis recommended and practised himself and that which he strictly enjoined upon his Brethren. Here the conciliatory aim of the book is apparent. But he is never betrayed into anything unworthy of an upright biographer. All his facts are unassailable--nothing of importance is suppressed or distorted. In consequence, such a picture of Francis as his spiritual children required is the result. This was the end Bonaventure had in view, and having accomplished it, it matters little if his work forfeits the approval of those modern critics who, in the life of Francis, wish to find a record of the natural rather than the supernatural.
From this "Greater Legend"--as it is called--Bonaventure made an abstract of the salient events, and arranged them under seven headings, each of which contained nine lessons or readings. This was called the "Smaller Legend" and was intended{64}for the use of the Religious in the Divine Office during the Octave of St. Francis. To this smaller work attaches the same historical accuracy that distinguishes the Greater Legend. In many instances events are described in the same words; other incidents are given in abridged form; the whole work is marked by a more liturgic style, and occasionally fresh details are given.
Hitherto we have considered principally the outward life of Bonaventure; we now turn to those interior virtues which made him a saint. Notwithstanding his manifold labours and the eminently strenuous life he led he was a perfect master of the interior life. A glance at his writings will show how thoroughly he understood the secrets of Mystic Theology, and how intimately acquainted he was with every aspect of the spiritual life. There is no phase of divine contemplation that he does not seem to have learnt by personal experience. It was this very striking characteristic which gained for him the title of Seraphic Doctor.
He possessed the rare faculty of keeping his mind habitually fixed upon God in the midst of external occupations. To this may be traced the very remarkable attribute of his writings whereby{65}every subject he treats of is made ultimately to converge Godwards. In his treatises "The Journey of the Mind to God," and "The Reduction of the Arts to Theology," the workings of his soul in this respect are systematized and reduced to scientific order. St. Antoninus notes this feature of Bonaventure's works when he says: "According as Bonaventure made progress in science and the knowledge of the Scriptures, so, too, he grew in the grace of devotion. For whatever he perceived with the intellect he reduced to the form of prayer and worship of God and kept meditating on it continually in his heart."
Besides maintaining at all times this habitual spirit of recollection, our Saint sometimes withdrew entirely from the cares of his office and gave himself exclusively to prayer and recollection. It was on one such occasion, in the seclusion of Mount Alverna, that he conceived the idea of, and actually composed, his "Journey of the Mind to God". He tells us this himself. "On an occasion," he says, [Footnote 30] "when, after the example of the most Blessed Francis, I, a sinner, sighed for spiritual peace--I who, though unworthy in every respect, am yet his seventh successor in the general ministry of the Brethren--it happened that about the thirty-third year after his death I had withdrawn to Mount Alverna as to a quiet place where I might find{66}the peace I sought. Whilst there, as I reflected on certain elevations of the soul to God, amongst other thoughts there occurred to me the miracle which happened to Blessed Francis in this place, viz. the apparition of the Crucified Seraph. On reflection it instantly seemed to me that the vision signified the lifting up of St. Francis by contemplation and the manner in which it was accomplished."
[Footnote 30: "Opera Omnia," Tom. V, Prologus, p. 295.]
Unfortunately the biographers of Bonaventure give us no definite insight into his interior spirit. There is no attempt at depicting that inner life which by words and actions, by trains of thought, lines of policy and personal habits, is always revealed to observant contemporaries. We have innumerable vague, though glowing, appreciations of his virtues and character in general. We are told most emphatically that he was a saint, but what kind of a saint we are not informed. In this dearth of particulars we must fall back upon the Saint's writings. We can justly hope to find in them some revelation of his spirit--of those particular ideas that guided and animated him. We can take it for granted that what he taught he practised. The fact that he is a canonized Saint forbids us to think otherwise. Hence, in his numerous descriptions of those interior virtues that should adorn the spiritual life in general, we may see a reflection of those virtues which flourished in his own soul.
There is a small work on the spiritual life written by our Saint in which he depicts the virtues that{67}make for religious perfection. The book is entitled "The Perfection of Life," and it reveals the spirit of Bonaventure more simply and, for our present purpose, more suitably than his greater works. It was written at the request of the Mother Abbess of some Community of Poor Clares. He refers to this fact in his introduction, and his words breathe such a deep spirit of humility that I cannot refrain from quoting them.
"Wherefore, Reverend Mother, devoted to God and dear to me, you have asked me out of the poverty of my heart to write something whereby, for the time being, you may instruct your soul in the way of devotion. I sincerely confess that rather do I stand in need of such instruction myself, seeing that my life is not adorned with virtue outwardly, nor is it inflamed with devotion inwardly, nor is it enhanced by learning. Nevertheless, moved by your pious wish, even as you have requested I have obeyed. But I ask your blessedness, most holy mother, to regard rather my good will than the result of my efforts; rather the truth of my words than the elegance of my language; and, that, where I fail to give satisfaction, you will excuse and forgive me on account of the lack of time and the pressure of business."
We must remember that these words were uttered by the successor of St. Francis--a man whose reputation for learning and sanctity was world-wide--a man who was consulted by Popes and Princes,{68}whose merits were soon to raise him to the dignity of the Cardinalate, and upon whose words a few years later the entire Christian Church in General Council assembled would hang with profound admiration. Such an utterance gives us a better insight into Bonaventure's mind and character than pages of indefinite eulogy.
His deep sense of humility sprang from his perfect knowledge of himself. He considered self-knowledge an essential condition to the acquisition of true knowledge of any kind. "He knows nothing aright who knows not himself--who understands not the conditions of his own being. How dangerous it is for a religious soul to be eager to know indifferent things and yet neglect to learn its own deficiencies. That soul is near to ruin which is curious to know extraneous things and prone to judge others yet cares not to know itself." Apart from the sentiment of humility prompting this utterance, what profound wisdom does it not reveal! It establishes a truly golden rule for the guidance of the soul in its search after knowledge, secular or spiritual. It must begin by discovering its own limitations and defects. If it ignores these it cannot form a true estimate of anything. This truth was uttered by our Saint six hundred years ago and it is strange to hear it re-echoed in our own day under totally different circumstances. Men of science, on purely rational grounds, are reverting to the advice given by Bonaventure and are{69}deprecating the consequences of having hitherto more or less ignored it. Our knowledge of things distinct from ourselves must be modified and verified by our knowledge of the means by which it is acquired.
The intensity of Bonaventure's humility is evidenced by the fact that whereas his biographers seem to have overlooked his other virtues, they have left on record several instances of his humility. The following incident related [Footnote 31] by Wadding is touching in its simplicity:--
[Footnote 31: "Annals," Tom. IV, Anno 1269. NO.5.]
"As Bonaventure was on his way to the General Chapter of Assisi, it happened that a poor spiritually afflicted Brother, named Fulginas, was very desirous of speaking to him but could not do so because of the numbers that surrounded him and engaged his attention. The poor Brother went along in advance of the Saint until he came almost to the walls of Assisi and there awaited him. On his approach he cried out: 'Reverend Father, I should like very much to speak with you for my consolation, and I humbly beseech you not to despise your poor subject though he is beneath notice'. Bonaventure immediately left the company that surrounded him and seating himself on the ground beside the poor Brother, listened with great patience and kindness to his long and tedious recital, and consoled him with much compassion and sympathy. His{70}companions, impatient at his long absence, expressed their disapproval of his action. But he said: 'I could not do otherwise. I am the minister and servant--the poor Brother my lord and master. I often recall those words of the Rule: 'Let the Ministers receive the Brothers charitably and kindly, and show themselves so familiar towards them that they (the Brothers) may speak and act with them like masters with their servants.' I, being the servant, should obey the will of my master and solace the misery of that poor sufferer."
This other anecdote illustrates this virtue of humility quite as forcibly, and has the advantage of being more authentic. Salimbene, [Footnote 32] a contemporary chronicler, is our authority. "Brother Mark," he wrote, "was my special friend, and to such a degree did he love Brother Bonaventure, that he would frequently burst into tears on recalling (after his father's death) the learning and heavenly graces that had crowned his life. When Brother Bonaventure, the Minister-General, was about to preach to the clergy, this same brother Mark would say to him: 'You are indeed a hireling,' or, 'On former occasions you have preached without knowing precisely what you were talking about. I sincerely hope you are not going to do that now.' Brother Mark acted thus to incite the General to more painstaking efforts. His depreciation was merely{71}affected and in no way genuine, for Mark reported all the sermons of his master and treasured them greatly. Brother Bonaventurerejoicedat his friend's reproaches, and that for five reasons. First, because his was a kindly-hearted and long-suffering character; secondly, because thus he could imitate his blessed Father Francis; thirdly, because it showed how loyally Mark was devoted to him; fourthly, because it afforded him the means of avoiding vainglory; lastly, because it incited him to more careful preparation."
[Footnote 32: "Chronica," p. 138.]
For a mind so powerful, so enlightened, of such perfect equilibrium and sound judgment, humility was the only possible attitude. Pride is the accompaniment of a weak mind or an unsound judgment. It is based upon a notion so palpably false and unworthy as to be inadmissible to a powerful mind. The proud man attributes to himself what he does not possess, or he fails to see that what he does possess is limited and imperfect, and that it is attributable rather to the Author of his being than to himself. Consequently, he does not perceive how senseless it is to glory in it or to despise his neighbour because he lacks it. The more a man knows, however, the humbler he is; because the very greatness of his knowledge only widens the extent of his outlook into the boundless sphere of truth that surrounds him, and which he feels he cannot explore.
In keeping with his spirit of humility our Saint{72}shunned honours of every kind. He steadfastly refused the Archbishopric of York to which he was appointed by Clement IV., and when that Pope, to secure more effectively his invaluable services for the Church, insisted on making him Cardinal, the envoys who brought him the Cardinal's hat found him washing the dishes of the monastery--nor would he receive it before he had finished his menial task.
The Love of God is the perfection of the interior life. It is this which unites the soul with God, and the more intense it is, the closer is the union and the greater the consequent perfection. It is the crown and, consummation of all the virtues. Where it exists we shall, as a matter of consequence, find all the other virtues; and to describe it is implicitly to portray them all. Hence, when we shall have treated of St. Bonaventure's love for God, we shall consider ourselves absolved from the necessity of discussing his other virtues, especially as there is such a scarcity of data to lay under contribution. And even concerning the virtue under consideration, we must be content with reviewing the Saint's teaching upon it.
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The Papal Envoy presenting St. Bonaventure with the Cardinal's hat.]
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None realized better than Bonaventure the supremacy of charity. "Charity alone," he writes, [Footnote 33] "renders us pleasing to God. Of all the virtues charity alone makes its possessor wealthy and blessed. If it is absent, in vain are all the other virtues present; if only it be present, all is present--for whoso possesses it possesses the Holy Ghost. If virtue constitute the blessed life--virtue, I should add, is nothing else but the highest love of God." Since charity is so excellent it must be insisted upon beyond all the other virtues. Nor ought any kind of charity to be considered sufficient but that alone by which we love God above all things and our neighbour as ourselves for God's sake. The Saint insists, particularly, on the exclusive nature of the love of God. No interest in creatures and no affection for them should be allowed to interfere with it. "We should love God," he says, "with the whole heart, the whole mind and the whole soul. To love anything not in God and for God is to be wanting in His love." He quotes with approval the remarkable utterance of St. Augustine: "He loveth Thee less, O Lord! who loveth anything along with Thee which he does not love because of Thee". He assigns as the proof of perfect love willingness to lay down one's life for God: "We love God with our whole soul when for the love of Jesus Christ we freely expose ourselves to death{76}when circumstances demand it. To love God with our whole mind is to be ever mindful of Him, to love Him unceasingly and without forgetfulness or neglect." Such is the substance of Bonaventure's general teachings on charity.
[Footnote 33: "Opera Omnia," Tom. VIII, "De Perfectione Vitae," Cap. VII, p. 124.]
Elsewhere in his treatise, "The Triple Way, or the Fire of Love," he treats of the subject more in detail. He writes, no doubt, from the fulness of his heart and describes, the love which dominated his own soul. He distinguishes [Footnote 34] six stages or degrees of perfect charity.
[Footnote 34: "Opera Omnia," Tom. VIII, "De Triplici Via," Cap. II, §4, p. 10.]
The first stage is that ofsweetnesswhen the soul learns to "taste and see how sweet the Lord is".
The second consists in theyearningof the soul for God. Having become accustomed to spiritual sweetness, it is filled with a longing which nothing save the perfect possession of that which it loves can satisfy. And as this cannot be attained to here below the soul is continually transported out of itself by ecstatic love, and exclaims in the words of the Psalmist: "As the hart panteth after the fountains of water, so my soul panteth after Thee, O God!" (Ps. XLI. 2).
The third degree issatietywhich succeeds to the yearning just described. As the soul most vehemently desires God and is lifted up towards Him, everything that tends to hold it down becomes distasteful to it. It can find no pleasure in{77}anything save its beloved. It is like one whose appetite has been fully appeased: if he attempt to take more food it produces disgust rather than pleasure. Such is the attitude of the soul at this stage towards all earthly things.
The fourth degree is that of spiritualinebriationwhich follows upon the aforesaid satiety. Inebriation consists in this: The soul's love for God is so great that not only does it reject all comfort and pleasure but it delights in suffering. For its consolation it embraces pain, and, as the Apostle did of old, it rejoices in reproaches and scourgings and torments for the love of its beloved.
The fifth degree of perfect charity issecurity. When the soul realizes that it loves God so greatly that it would willingly bear every pain and opprobrium for Him, it conceives such confidence in the divine assistance that it casts out all fear and assures itself that it can never by any means be separated from God. The Apostle had reached this stage when he exclaimed: "Who shall separate me from the love of Christ? I am certain that neither life nor death can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."
The sixth and last degree is found in true and perfecttranquillity, wherein such peace and quiet reign that the soul appears to lie in peaceful slumber from which there is nothing to disturb it. For what can disturb the soul which no movement of passion assails and no pang of fear disquiets?{78}In such a soul peace and quiet reign. It has reached the final stage--"His place is in peace". It is impossible to reach such perfect tranquillity save by perfect charity. When this is attained it is very easy for a man to fulfil all that appertains to perfection--whether it be to do or to suffer, to live or to die.
Here indeed we have disclosed to us the dizziest heights of spiritual perfection. No more intimate union with God can we conceive, and yet may we not justly conjecture that it is a faithful portrayal of the personal experience of the Saint himself. The title ofSeraphicDoctor bestowed upon Bonaventure is an undeniable tribute to his all-absorbing love for God. To the minds of his contemporaries, impregnated with the mysticism and supernatural atmosphere of the Middle Ages, the spirit that breathed in his writings seemed to find its parallel only in the lives of those heavenly beings--the Seraphim--whose existence is depicted as like to a glowing flame of divine love.
Furthermore, in his utterances concerning the workings of the soul in prayer, there is what I consider a very striking revelation of the intensity of Bonaventure's love for God. It is the love of God that vivifies prayer. Prayer is more or less perfect according to the charity that reigns in the soul--it reaches its highest perfection where love is all-pervading. Then we look for raptures and ecstasies such as marked the lives of the greatest saints.{79}Bonaventure's reflections on prayer imply this most burning love. The following utterances, [Footnote 35] of which I give the substance, are clearly indicative of this.
[Footnote 35: "Opera Omnia," Tom. VIII, "De Perfectione Vitae," Cap. V,passim.]
"In prayer we must enter with the Beloved into the chamber of the heart and there remain alone with Him. We must forget all external things, and with our whole heart and all our mind and all our affections and desires endeavour to lift our souls up to God. We should endeavour by the ardour of our devotion to mount higher and higher until we enter even into the heavenly court, and there with the eyes of the soul having caught sight of our Beloved, and having tasted how sweet the Lord is, we should rush into His embrace, kissing Him with the lips of tenderest devotion. Thus are we carried out of ourselves, rapt up to Heaven, and as it were, transformed into Christ." The Saint proceeds to explain how the ecstatic state is reached. "It sometimes happens," he says, "that the mind is rapt out of itself when we are so inflamed with heavenly desires that everything earthly becomes distasteful, and the fire of divine love burns beyond measure, so that the soul melts like wax, and is dissolved--ascending up before the throne of God like the fumes of fragrant incense. Again, it sometimes arrives that the soul is so flooded with divine light and overwhelmed by the vision of God's beauty that it is stricken with{80}bewilderment and dislodged from its bearings. And the deeper it sinks down by self-abasement in the presence of God's beauty, like a streak of lightning, the quicker it is caught up and rapt out of itself. Finally, it occurs that the soul inebriated by the fulness of interior sweetness utterly forgets what it is and what it has been, and is transported into a state of ineffable beatitude and entirely permeated with uncreated love. It is forced to cry out with the Prophet: 'How lovely are Thy tabernacles, O Lord of Hosts. My soul longeth and fainteth for the Courts of the Lord. My heart and my flesh have rejoiced in the living God'" (Ps. LXXXIII.).
Effusions such as these assuredly give us an insight into the extraordinary love that burned in the soul of Bonaventure. From the spiritual tepidity that oppresses us we can only contemplate it with wistful admiration. It proves to us indeed "how wonderful is God in His Saints," and how profoundly and intimately He influences the hearts of His chosen ones and attaches them inseparably to Himself.
It will be fitting to bring this chapter to a close by quoting, as outside testimony, the tribute which Cardinal Wiseman paid [Footnote 36] to this feature of our Saint's life. "There is another writer upon this inexhaustible subject," said His Eminence, "who more than any other will justify all that I have{81}said; and, moreover, prove the influence which these festivals of the Passion may exercise upon the habitual feelings of a Christian. I speak of the exquisite meditations of St. Bonaventure upon the life of Christ, a work in which it is difficult what most to admire, the riches of imagination surpassed by no poet, or the tenderness of sentiment, or the variety of adaptation. After having led us through the affecting incidents of Our Saviour's infancy and life, and brought us to the last moving scenes, his steps become slower from the variety of his beautiful but melancholy fancies; he now proceeds, not from year to year, or from month to month, or from day to day, but each hour has its meditations, and every act of the last tragedy affords him matter for pathetic imagination. But when at the conclusion, he comes to propose to us the method of practising his holy contemplations, he so distributes them, that from Monday to Wednesday shall embrace the whole, of Our Saviour's life; but from Thursday to Sunday inclusive each day shall be entirely taken up with the mystery which the Church in Holy Week has allotted to it. In this manner did he, with many others, extend throughout the whole year the solemn commemorations of Holy Week, for the promotion of individual devotion and sanctification, even as the Church had done for the public welfare."
[Footnote 36: Four Lectures on the Offices and Ceremonies of Holy Week. Lecture the Fourth.]
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In a previous chapter reference was made to St. Bonaventure's appointment to the Archiepiscopal See of York. It occurred in the year 1265. The See of York had been rendered vacant by the death of Bishop Godfrey de Kinton, or William Ludham--it is not certain which of these two prelates immediately preceded Bonaventure's appointment. The English chroniclers do not refer to our Saint's nomination. The fact may never have come to their knowledge, or their silence may be accounted for by their opposition to foreign appointments. The epoch was one of the most troublous in the history of England. The country was in the throes of the civil war kindled by the revolt of the Earl of Leicester against Henry III. The partial success of the Earl and the captivity of Henry moved Pope Urban to intervene. He despatched Cardinal Guido to England as his legate, but the latter having been threatened with death if he dared to set foot in the country, remained in France. His mission was a failure. After a short delay, and some ineffectual negotiations, he returned to Rome, where shortly afterwards he was raised to the Papacy. It was this Pontiff who appointed Bonaventure to the See of York. He was thoroughly acquainted with the disturbed state of the country{83}and knew full well the manifold and serious difficulties which would beset the occupant of so important a See. In the Bull of appointment he makes particular reference to this. He beseeches the Saint to attend diligently to the needs of the Church and to work for the peace and welfare of the Kingdom "sorely disturbed and convulsed by the storms of civil strife".
The condition of the Church in England was not more satisfactory than that of the State. It was deprived of the liberty necessary for its genuine welfare. In the year 1261, we hear the Bishops of England, in Council at Lambeth, bewailing the violation of the Church's rights which they asserted were trampled under foot. They enumerated the following abuses which commonly prevailed: the undue interference of the civil power in ecclesiastical matters; the intrusion by secular authority of incumbents into benefices; the unjust and violent seizure of Church property and the goods of the clergy; the pretension of the Crown to the right of patronage in all the more important benefices; finally, the plurality of benefices, and the tenure of benefices by foreign ecclesiastics.
No sooner was the Papal Bull delivered to Bonaventure than he hastened to Perugia, where the Pope was residing, and besought him not to impose upon him so weighty a responsibility. We know not what reasons he adduced, but they must have been very powerful to overcome the Pope's{84}resolution and turn him from his purpose, for he seems to have chosen Bonaventure after the fullest deliberation and to have been very intent upon his accepting the dignity. It appears that the Chapter of York had chosen its Dean as Archbishop, but the Pope refused to ratify the election, declaring that on the present occasion he reserved to himself the right of appointment. In the Bull which he issued to our Saint, [Footnote 37] he says:--
[Footnote 37: Cf. Wadding, Anno 1265. No. 14.]
"We have long considered this appointment. We have given it our profound and careful attention. Our mind has long been occupied with it in all its bearings. The welfare of a Church so great and honourable, of a daughter so noble and so devoted to the Apostolic See, of a Catholic Kingdom so renowned as England and so dear to the Roman See--the welfare of a Church so amply endowed and enjoying Archiepiscopal dignity fills us with deepest solicitude. It has aroused our anxiety, increased our vigilance and intensified our deliberation. We have studied more intimately, and considered more carefully, all that in this election might make for the greater welfare of the Church, of the Apostolic See, and of the entire Kingdom. We have striven by every means in our power to find a worthy man--one devoted to the Apostolic See and suited to the wants of the aforesaid Church and zealous for the peace and welfare of the Kingdom--a man conspicuous for virtue, renowned for{85}learning, remarkable for foresight--a man whom the Lord might love, in whose goodness He might dwell--a man whose good deeds render him worthy of imitation, by whom the Catholic flock as by a shining light may be led to salvation. Seeking for such an one we have fixed our choice on thee--our mind has rested upon thee with entire satisfaction. For we behold in thee religious fervour, candour of life, irreproachable conduct, renowned learning, prudent foresight, serious gravity. We see that thou hast so long and so laudably presided over thine Order, and fulfilled so faithfully the office of Minister-General--exercising it prudently and profitably for the greater honour and welfare of the Order, striving to live innocently under regular observance, showing thyself peaceful and lovable to all. Wherefore, we are fully convinced that we see in thee what we desire for the welfare of the said Church, the Apostolic See and the entire Kingdom. By our Apostolic authority, therefore, we make provision for the aforesaid Church through thee, and constitute thee its Archbishop and Pastor, absolving thee from the office of Minister-General and transferring thee to the said Church, granting thee free licence to go thither. Therefore we exhort, admonish, affectionately entreat, and strictly command thee by virtue of holy obedience not to resist the Divine Will, nor to oppose any obstacle nor delay to our command, but humbly to submit to the call of Heaven and accept the burden placed upon thee by God."
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Undoubtedly, only the gravest reasons could have induced Bonaventure to resist so urgent an appeal of the Vicar of Christ. What they were we do not know, and it is useless to enter upon conjectures. The incident shows us the extraordinary esteem in which our Saint was held, and it also gives us an insight into the deep solicitude with which the Popes in the thirteenth century watched over the interests of the Church in England. The action of the Roman Pontiffs in appointing foreign ecclesiastics to English Sees has been severely condemned by Protestant historians, but anyone reading the Bull of Bonaventure's appointment must confess that they took the greatest care to select worthy and suitable candidates.
Having succeeded in obtaining the revocation of his appointment, our Saint went to Paris, where he remained teaching and attending to the affairs of the Order until the year 1269, when he celebrated the General Chapter at Assisi. Returning again to Paris he devoted himself to his writings, lectures, sermons and ministerial duties, until 1271, when at Viterbo he played a most important part in a very memorable event. On the death of Clement IV. (1268), the Cardinals were so hopelessly divided in their opinions that for nearly three years they were unable to agree in the choice of a successor. In the year just mentioned they were assembled at Viterbo. Six candidates were, before them for election and there seemed but little chance{87}of arriving at any decision. Bonaventure's reputation was so great that the Cardinals sought his services, and, according to one chronicler, [Footnote 38] empowered him to nominate himself or any other to the Papal See, promising at the same time to ratify his selection. He nominated Theobald of Piacenza, a most worthy man who was at that time Legate in Syria. The Cardinals acquiesced in his choice and the new Pope took the name of Gregory X. This incident must be regarded as quite authentic, for reference is made to it in the process of our Saint's canonization. That the Cardinals seriously authorized him to nominate himself is the only item concerning which a doubt may be raised. To some writers it seems too improbable on the face of it, and they refuse to admit it.
[Footnote 38: Bartholomew of Pisa, "Conformities," Lib. I. Conform. 8. Pars. 2.]
The election of Gregory exercised an unforeseen influence on Bonaventure's career. The new Pope arrived at Viterbo in 1272, and proceeded to Rome, where he was solemnly crowned in the year 1273. Full of admiration for our Saint and reposing the greatest confidence in his wisdom, he desired to avail himself of his counsel in the government of the Church. Accordingly he summoned him to Rome and confided to him the transaction of many important matters. Amongst these was the selection of Legates to undertake the reconciliation{88}of the Greeks and Tartars to the Latin Church. However, his stay in Rome was not of long duration, for in the same year, 1273, he was back again in Paris attending to his ministerial duties and working for the fulfilment of a very important commission entrusted to him by the Pope.
Before we pass on to St. Bonaventure's elevation to the Cardinalate it will be worth while to gather under one heading such scattered memories of him as have been preserved, and which shed additional light on his life and character. These are associated chiefly with the French King St. Louis IX., and St. Thomas Aquinas. As the sainted Franciscan General lived almost thirty-two years at the University of Paris, it was but natural he should come into close relationship with the equally sainted King of France. King Louis died 25 August, 1270, and at the second chapter of Pisa, held in 1272, St. Bonaventure introduced into the Order the solemn annual celebration of the day of his death. Mindful of his old-time friendship, our Saint secured this favour from Gregory X, as the first act of grace on the occasion of his coronation.
The following incident reveals the unreserve{89}with which Louis IX. confided in his Franciscan friend. On the death of his eldest son, the French King, in spite of the great love he had ever borne him, was thoroughly resigned to what he recognized as the will of God. He told St. Bonaventure that since God had willed the heir apparent should die he himself would not, even if he could, have his son live. "Sire," our Saint made answer, "how can that be?" St. Louis replied, "I believe and I know that such was the will of God. Seeing that it is God's will, on no account ought I to will the contrary; rather ought I cheerfully to accept God's good pleasure and not prove disloyal to His supreme will." "How much I suffer," he continued, "you can scarcely credit. Yet though I feel this loss so keenly, I must force myself not to manifest it." As he said, so he did, as the whole nation was witness.
On another occasion the King told St. Bonaventure that someone had approached him saying, "The Lord our God has three crowns, one of gold, one of thorns and the other incorruptible--the crown of Eternal Life. Two of these He has bestowed on you. I earnestly recommend you, however, that after the example of Jesus Christ, you strive to acquire by your good works the crown of Eternal Life. What will the two crowns you have avail you, if you secure not the third?" "Now it seems to me," was the pious King's comment, "that he spoke with very much wisdom.{90}His words entered my very heart." This lesson, our Saint adds, he also impressed on his court.
St. Louis once sought St. Bonaventure's opinion on an abstruse philosophic-theological question. "May a man," queried the King, "choose rather to be annihilated than to remain in everlasting torments? or ought he to prefer eternal torture to non-existence?" "Sire," answered Bonaventure, "endless torments presuppose sin and God's undying wrath against sin; and as no one may choose to remain for ever at enmity with God, non-existence is to be preferred to endless suffering." "I hold with Brother Bonaventure," the pious King exclaimed. Then turning to his courtiers he continued, "I assure you I would far rather cease to exist; I would far rather suffer annihilation, than live for ever, even in this world, reigning even as I now reign, and yet withal remain in perpetual enmity with my God."
A further incident reveals a still more intimate interchange of ideas. The King once came to Bonaventure and said to him: "The Queen is greatly disturbed because she hears that our son Peter wishes to join the Franciscan Order. I said to her, 'Do not trouble and do not allow the affair to weigh on your mind. Besides, you may mention the matter so often that the youth may come by the desire of joining the Order. Personally I feel assured that the love Brother Bonaventure, their General, bears me will not allow him{91}to receive our son without my being forewarned.' Did I not speak the truth, Brother Bonaventure?" To this our Saint made answer, "Sire, if your son comes to me on this matter, I shall refer to you and lay the responsibility on your shoulders". "No, Brother Bonaventure," replied King Louis, "that would not do. I should not like to have it on my conscience that I stood in the way of my son's following the voice of God." "Pious and holy King!" the narrative concludes, "his soul was so holy and so given to God, he preferred to be deprived of his son's society rather than withdraw that son from the service of God."
In the fourteenth century MSS. from which the previous incidents are drawn, and which are preserved in the Vatican Library, the following episode is found. We insert it, though historically it is not beyond question. The brother of St. Bonaventure once besought our Saint to use his influence with St. Louis on his behalf. "Do you wish me to speak to the King for you?" asked our Saint. "How could I exhort and induce others to the contempt of the world and the embracing of the Religious Life, if I interested myself on your worldly behalf: if, by procuring you what you desire, I afforded you the occasion of remaining in the lay state and of loving the world?"
In the course of this biography we have alluded casually to the intimate friendship which existed between St. Bonaventure and St. Thomas Aquinas.{92}There is an account of a holy rivalry of modest courtesy which took place between them when they were both to receive the degree of Doctor at the Paris University. St. Thomas could not be brought to take precedence of our Saint: whilst Bonaventure, true to the name of Friar Minor, shrank from the thought of anticipating St. Thomas. What they were unable to arrange between themselves was settled for them by their friends. It was thus finally determined that Bonaventure, as being somewhat older, should be the first to occupy the place of honour. When our Saint had been adorned with the insignia of his new degree, he was conducted to his place amongst the Masters of Divinity, whence he witnessed St. Thomas passing triumphantly through the ordeal from which he himself had just emerged with credit.
On a subsequent occasion, however, it was St. Thomas' turn to be worsted in a similar contest of holy humility. There is a tradition to the effect that when Pope Urban IV. was contemplating to extend to the whole Church the Feast of Corpus Christi he commissioned St. Thomas and St. Bonaventure to compose separately a suitable Office and Mass for the feast. While the work was being done, St. Bonaventure called upon his friend, and during the course of the conversation took up and read that antiphon for theMagnificatbeginning with the words,O Sacrum Convivium!--"O Sacred Banquet!" So overcome was he by its depth and{93}sweetness that he returned home and cast into the fire the work he himself had been preparing. Whatever the authenticity of these two episodes, they certainly breathe the spirit of love and of courteous esteem with which these two Saints--representatives of two kindred Orders--were actuated towards each other.
This is another episode of the same holy friendship, which Wadding [Footnote 39] recounts on the testimony of Mark of Lisbon. As St. Thomas Aquinas was once wondering at the varied learning and depth of insight displayed in his friend's writings, he asked St. Bonaventure to show him the books from which he had drawn. Thereupon the humble Franciscan General showed St. Thomas a Crucifix, and pointing to it exclaimed: "It is from this well-spring of light and love that I have drawn whatever is to be found in my lectures or writings".
[Footnote 39: Tom. IV, Anno 1260. No. 20.]
The following incident in connexion with St. Antony of Padua gives us an insight into St. Bonaventure's unctuous devotion. When our Saint was in Italy in the year 1263, he presided over the translation of St. Antony's relics, which were then removed on 8 April from the humble Church where they had reposed since 1232 to the noble Basilica where they still remain. When the lid of the coffin was removed and all pressed eagerly forward to gaze, it was seen that though the flesh had long since returned to dust, and even the bones{94}were fast crumbling away, the tongue, "which for 32 years had lain under the earth, was found as fresh and ruddy as though the Most Blessed Father had died that self-same hour". [Footnote 40] With the tact and eloquence which were so peculiarly his own, Bonaventure turned this extraordinary happening to devout account. Reverently taking the relic into his hands and kissing it with tender devotion, he exclaimed, "O Blessed Tongue, which in life didst ever bless the Lord and lead others to bless Him, now doth it manifestly appear in what high honour thou wast held by God Himself". He then directed that it be preserved in a costly reliquary, as a special object of veneration, rather than remain with the rest of the body.
[Footnote 40: Cf. "Analecta Franciscana," Tom. III, pp. 328 and 157.]
There is also recorded a quaint and interesting dialogue which took place between our Saint and Brother Giles. "On one occasion," we read [Footnote 41] in the Life of Brother Giles commonly attributed to Brother Leo, "Brother Giles said to Friar Bonaventure, the Minister-General, 'Father, God has laden you with many graces. But we uneducated and unlearned men who have not received of this fullness, what shall we do to be saved?' The General made answer, 'Did God confer on man no other grace save only the power to love Him, that surely would suffice'. Then asked Brother Giles, 'Can an ignorant man love God even as can a scholar?'{95}'A poor, little, aged peasant woman,' the General made answer, 'can love God even more than a Master in Theology.' Then arose Brother Giles in the fervour of his soul, and running towards that part of the garden nearest the highway, cried aloud, 'Poor little peasant woman love the Lord thy God, and foolish and ignorant as thou art, thou mayest be greater in His sight even than Friar Bonaventure'. And as he thus cried aloud he was rapt in ecstasy and remained immovable for the space of three hours."
[Footnote 41: Ibid. p. 101.]
There is one of our Saint's works which we must not omit to mention, for through it he is closely connected with an important present-day feature of the Church's life. Some authors tell us that it is to St. Bonaventure that we are indebted for our numerous modern confraternities; either, as some say, because he originated the idea of these pious societies, or, as others hold, because he prescribed for them a definite form of prayer. It is certain that our Saint founded the "Confraternity of the Holy Standard," and did so probably about the year 1264. [Footnote 42] The root idea of a Confraternity, however, existed before the time of St. Bonaventure; these pious societies, in fact, seem but to be the counterpart of those local guilds which were early established over Europe. Then anent specific rules and prayers, etc., there are the religious{96}prescriptions which Hincmar, Archbishop of Rheims, drew up for his guild, not to mention the Confraternity organized by Odo, Bishop of Paris, who died in 1208. This "Confraternity of the Standard," however, would seem to have been the first introduced into Rome; and its immediate and extensive adoption throughout Italy may possibly explain how it came to pass that upon St. Bonaventure was fathered an idea that, probably, was merely borrowed from Bishop Odo.
[Footnote 42: Bull of Pope Gregory XIII. "Pastoris AEterni," 23 October, 1576.]
This "Confraternity of the Holy Standard" took its name from the banner which was borne at the head of the Society's processions and on which was wrought the likeness of the Blessed Virgin. It was also known as the "Society of the Protégés of Our Blessed Lady," for among their insignia was a representation of the mother of God shielding her clients with her mantle. At first the Society embraced only twelve members, all of noble birth, the number, it is said, shown to our Saint in a vision; soon, however, it grew into a large and public body. The distinctive dress of the association was a white habit, to the right shoulder of which was attached a blue badge on which a cross was traced in red and white. This was the period when the Crusades were kindling the West with religious enthusiasm, and it seemed appropriate that in spiritual as in temporal warfare, soldiers should bear an their person the insignia of the King under whose banner they were fighting.{97}The whiteness of the Cross recalled the purity of Our Lady; its deep red colour symbolized the love with which Our Lord purchased our redemption, and the heart-felt loyalty we should manifest in return. The aims of this Confraternity were prayer, fasting, and almsdeeds: the promotion of peace and harmony among citizens--then so fiercely given to feuds of civic politics; the procuring of dowries for destitute girls; voluntary service to hospitals; and, perhaps, chiefly, the ransom of captives from the tyranny of the Saracens.
Soon after his election to the Papacy, Gregory X. decided to hold a General Council at Lyons. He directed Bonaventure to undertake the preparation of the various matters to be discussed. Amongst all those who might co-operate for the success of the Council, the Pope perceived that there was no one more capable than our Saint. His, authority was great and his influence was widespread, In the preceding chapter we have dwelt upon his familiar friendship with King Louis of France, With Charles I. of Anjou he was likewise on intimate terms. After his elevation to the Cardinalate the prince gave orders for his suitable conveyance to the Papal Court. Another somewhat curious{98}instance of Bonaventure's widespread influence is seen in a letter written to him by the Secretary of Otto Carus, King of Bohemia. He asks our Saint to intercede for him with his royal master so that he might receive from him some office which he coveted. As General of the Franciscan Order his power was very considerable, but it was greatly increased by his reputation for learning and profound piety. The Order had already spread into almost every country of the Old World. In the East and West it possessed thirty-three Provinces and four Vicariates. It had penetrated into Egypt, Palestine, and Syria; and was firmly established all over Europe including the British Isles.
The supreme ruler of so vast and powerful an organization is necessarily a noteworthy personage in the life of the Church. And it is not to be wondered at that Gregory X. fixed his eyes upon Bonaventure, and with a view to enhancing his authority and extending his sphere of action determined to raise him to the cardinalate. Accordingly, on 23 June, 1273, he made him Bishop of Albano and Cardinal of the Roman Church. Bonaventure's secretary, Bernard of Besse, viewing the procedure from the standpoint of the humble Friar and with apparently little approval, refers briefly to the fact in these words: "The aforesaid Lord Gregory X. forced him to become a Cardinal". We can imagine how strenuously Bonaventure refused the honour, but the Pope was inflexible and even peremptory.{99}He commanded Bonaventure to submit to his appointment and in a spirit of humility to place no obstacle in the way. He furthermore ordered him to repair to the Papal Court without any unreasonable delay or hesitation. Our Saint received the Brief at Paris and he set out at once for Florence where the Pope happened to be residing. Having reached the vicinity of the town he took up his abode in a small convent of the Order. Thither came the Pope's envoys with the Cardinal's insignia. As has already been said they found the Bishop and Cardinal-elect washing the plates of the monastery, and tradition has it that he ordered them to hang the hat on a branch of a tree close by until he had finished.
After a brief stay at Florence, at the Pope's command our Saint set out for Lyons, where the General Council was to be held. The assembly began its sessions in May, 1274. The importance of the part which Bonaventure played in this Council is admitted by all. His secretary and biographer, Bernard of Besse, says: "By command of our Lord the Pope he conducted the principal affairs of the Council". Pope Sixtus IV. affirms that Bonaventure "presided at the Council of Lyons and directed everything to the praise and glory of God; so that having suppressed discords and overcome difficulties, he was a source of honour and utility to the Church". It is, however, hardly credible that Bonaventure reallypresidedover the Council, for{100}the Pope himself was present. Most likely he presided over the private sessions and prepared and directed the business to be publicly transacted.
The union of the Greek Church with the Latin, the deliverance of the Holy Land from Mohammedan rule, and the restoration of ecclesiastical discipline were the chief matters discussed by the Council.
In the work of reuniting the Greek and Latin Churches the Friars Minor played a very conspicuous part. Through them the negotiations with the Emperor Paleologus, and the Greek Church had been carried on. Their efforts seemed for a time to be crowned with complete success. The Emperor sent civil and ecclesiastical representatives to the Council of Lyons to express the adherence of himself and the entire Greek Church to all the tenets of the Church of Rome. In presence of the assembled Council and amid great solemnity the envoys made a public profession of Faith, and the great Eastern schism seemed to be healed. Unfortunately the result was of very brief duration. In the course of a few years the Greeks had once more returned to their old condition of schism and heresy. Still, even for this temporary success great credit is due to Bonaventure, for to his personal influence it must in no small degree be attributed. His learning, his eloquence, his affability and his piety deeply impressed the Greeks. They marked their appreciation of his great ability by bestowing on him{101}the name of "Eutychius". He surpassed the high opinion which Pope Gregory had formed of him. His extraordinary gifts filled the whole Council with admiration. The facility and precision of his diction, the prudence and moderation of his counsel, the breadth and depth of his learning, his skill in controversy and his wonderful power of dispatching most weighty matters made him the most prominent figure in the whole of the assembly. At the same time, his humility and meekness and the cheerful sweetness of his disposition won all hearts. His words were listened to with sympathetic attention and never failed to produce the desired effect. It is recorded that he preached twice during the Council: first when it was officially announced that the Greeks were sending representatives to Lyons, and, secondly, when the reunion had been accomplished. A large number of his sermons are extant, but amongst them is not found either of these discourses.
Whilst our gaze is fixed on Bonaventure as the central figure in that grand assembly of the Christian Church we can read with interest the pen-portrait of him left to us by an old chronicler. This writer, [Footnote 43] after insisting at much length on the spiritual endowments of the Saint, continues thus:--
[Footnote 43: Peter Rodulph, fol. 92. Cf. Wadding, Tom. IV, Anno 1274. No. 20.]
"Such beauty of soul was matched by exterior{102}comeliness; of imposing appearance, tall in stature, and with a certain nobility of bearing. His features were handsome and of serious expression. His words were calm and his conversation kind and gentle. He rarely suffered from ill health. His disposition was more than admirable. His appearance cannot be described other than like that of an angel sent from Heaven, for in his day there was no one more beautiful, holier, or more wise. Such affability and grace shone forth in his countenance that he was to all not only an object of love but of admiration. Those who once beheld him felt themselves drawn instinctively to admire and venerate him as one especially designed to further the interests of religion."
The description is evidently that of an ardent admirer of Bonaventure, but making all due allowance for its palpable exaggerations we are justified in believing that the personal appearance of the Saint must have been impressive and attractive in no ordinary degree. This seems to have been a characteristic of many of the saints, although their biographers, imbued with the peculiar ascetical notion that unsightliness of body is somehow necessarily associated with beauty and excellence of soul, usually discard all reference to bodily endowments.
In his labours at the Council our Saint was ably seconded by two other Franciscans--Rigaldi, Archbishop of Rouen, and Paul, Bishop of Tripolis. Their prominence and the authority they wielded{103}seem to have excited a certain amount of jealousy among their contemporaries. Thus we find them referred to in the following satirical triplet:--
Bonaventure, Rouen and TripolitaneDispense papal laws and unmindful remainOf their Order which scorns all honours as vain.
This suggests the question: "How can we reconcile the acceptance of ecclesiastical dignities with the Spirit of St. Francis and the profession of his Rule?" Many answers might be given, but I believe the following to be the most satisfactory. The leading principle of the Franciscan Rule is obedience to the Pope, the supreme authority in all things spiritual. Hence, submission to what he commands cannot be a violation of the Franciscan spirit. Like every other religious development of human origin the Order of St. Francis is entirely subject to the authority of the Head of the Church. He can modify it in its constitution and in its members as circumstances may demand. Non-Catholic writers, and even Catholics, sometimes lose sight of this. They seem to think that the Rule of Francis possesses some species of supreme and absolute authority which no power on earth can, or ought to, interfere with. This assumption is utterly false. None would have more emphatically rejected it than St. Francis himself. Hence, when the Vicar of Christ, for the welfare of the Church, calls upon a child of St. Francis to accept some office to{104}which attaches dignity or honour he may humbly refuse, but a persistent and obstinate refusal would find no justification in the profession he has made.