Francis and some of his successors realised in their lives the simple, religious, fundamental emotion of love in a way which the people could clearly understand.  “God’s minstrels” was the name given to his followers, because they spoke and sang of the love of God without ecclesiastical ceremony.  Jacopone da Todi (1236-1306), probably next to Dante and Guinicelli the greatest poet which Italy has produced, praised the transcendent love of God in ecstatic verses.  He was the religious counterpart of the troubadours; his passionate devotion to the child Jesus, the Madonna and the Crucified, eclipses their most ardent lyrics.  These southerners could not forgo the visible emblems of their religion; the infinitely simple principle that only he who calls nothing his own, and desires no earthly goods, is perfectly free, and can never fall foul of his neighbour, was, if not lived up to, at any rate understood and respected.  The grateful hearts of the people surrounded the name of St. Francis with legends; the study of his life inspired Giotto, the father of the new art, to the study of plant and animal life.  The story of St. Francis is written on the walls of the cathedral at Assisi, the first monumental work of Italian art.

St. Francis re-lived the terrestrial life of Jesus; in one direction he excelled his model, for though the love of Christ embraced all mankind, the heart of St. Francis went out to all things, beasts and plants and stars.  He applied the words, “Whatsoever ye do to the least of my brethren, ye have done unto me,” to Brother Bear and his sisters the little birds.  He was one of the first men, since the Greek era, who saw nature in its true aspect and not as a hieroglyphic of the divine word.  Men had realised with a feeling of helplessness the dangers of the elements, without perceiving their magnificence; they had speculated on and attempted to decipher the secret language of the terrestrial and celestial phenomena.  The discovery of the beauty of nature, and with it the revival of aesthetics, was an essential part of the new-born civilisation.  This fact was accomplished—­in an almost sentimental way—­by the troubadours and minnesingers.  But the relationship of St. Francis to nature was something very different.  The co-ordination of man and beast—­in his sermon to the birds, for instance—­cannot be called anything but frankly pagan.  St. Francis said to his disciples:  “Tarry a little while in the road while I go and preach to my little sisters, the birds.”  And he went into the fields and began to preach to the birds which sat on the ground; and straightway all the others flew down from the trees and flocked round him, and did not fly away until he had blessed them; and when he touched them, they did not move.  And these were the words which he spoke to them:  “My brothers and sisters, little birds, praise God and thank Him that He has given you wings with which to fly and clothed you with a garment of feathers.