The Holy life of Philip Nerius founder of the Congregation of the Oratory. To which is annexed a relation written by S. Augustine of the miracles in his dayes, wrought many of them in or near the city wherein he resided and well-known to him. And a relation of sundry miracles wrought at the monastery of Port-Royall in Paris, A.D. 1656. publikcly [sic] attested by many witnesses. / Translated out of a French copie published at Paris. 1656.

The HOLY LIFE OF PHILIP NERIUS: Founder of the Congregation of the ORATORY.

THE FIRST BOOK. His Actions before his going to Vallicella.

Chapter 1. Philips Birth and Infancy.

PHilip Nerius was born at Florence in the Year of our Lord 1515. On the Vigill of the B. Mary Magdalen after midnight, Leo the X^th. then Pope: and at his Bap∣tism in the Church of S. John Baptist, was after the name of his Grandfather called Philip. His Father Francis Nerius was a man of good repute with all, and of great integrity in his plead∣ings in the Law. His mother Lucretia Soldia a No∣ble

and Religious Matron, whose Ancestors had for∣merly managed the prime offices in that Common∣wealth.

Francis had by Lucretia four Children; two Daughters Katharine and Elisabeth, and two Sons, Anthony, that dyed an infant, and Philip; who was of a pregnant wit, an affable disposition, handsome features of body and and a strange sweetness of be∣haviour; furnished with all the excellencies where∣with those, who from Heaven are designed unto the good of Souls, are usually beautified.

His vertuous Parents vertuously educated him whilst yet a child: first entring him time∣ly * 1.1 into Grammar, wherein he not only outwent, but be∣came also admired by his School-fellows. He studied Rethorick too under an able Master, through whose discipline he proved a good proficient.

Among other essays of his after-piety, which at times from his very infancy he discovered to the world, a marvellous inclination to things divine, a rare modesty, and very great reverence to his Supe∣riours were remarkable in him. He was so dutifull to his Father, that, but once in all his life, was he known to move him (in the least) to anger; viz. when he very lightly strook his Sister Katharine, as shee disturbed him at his prayers: which fault (if at those years it may be termed a fault) being reprov∣ed for by him, he a long while after bewailed.

His Mothers commands he was so carefull of, that being at any time bid to stay any where, he would not stir from the place without her leave. She dying,

and his Father marrying anew, his Step-Mother, out of a reverence to his Sanctity, loved him entirely, as her own; and when he afterward left Florence, wept sore to part with him. Yea in her last most desperate Sickness, being at the point of Death, she oft redoubled his name, ever and anon calling him thereby, as if the very mentioning of it were a kinde of ease to her.

Nor only was he thus respective to his Parents and betters; even his equals and inferiours found him so pleasant, as if he had no mixture of Choller in him at all: so that for his excellent temper, and inno∣cent carriage he was (by contraction of his name) styled Pippus bon••s, Pippus the Good.

By which amiableness both of Nature, and man∣ners, he not only deserved the love of men, but was protected by God, even to a miracle: For being some eight or nine years old, and (as boys are) ea∣ger of riding, he got up on an asse that was in an outer court; and on a sudden together with the asse fell down a pair of stairs into a cellar, where a wo∣man presently running took him up sound▪ and well, whom she supposed to have been bruised to pieces.

These rare accomplishments of the minde were at∣tended with a speciall care of religion, and the ser∣vice of God: and his devotions argued in him a strange maturity, and carried with them much of authority. For they consisted not in erecting li••tle Al∣tars, as is usuall for children at that age; but in sending up prayers, reciting Psalms, and devout at∣tention to the word of God: concealing still in his talk his intention to become a Priest, or betake himself to a Cloyster; and even in his childhood growing re∣served in his designes; as perfectly detesting all man∣ner of ostentation.

Such a forwardness in vertue, and so childlike in∣nocency

procured him already that favour with God that whatever he requested of our Lord, he instant∣ly obtained: So that it oft hapned, when he had lost any thing upon recourse to his prayers he presently found it.

He drew his first breathings of the Spirit from the Fryers predicant, whose Church dedicated to S. Mark, he much frequented, insomuch as living afterward in Rome, when any of the Fathers of that Order visit∣ed him, he would usually say; Whatever good I have by Gods blessing received from my Infancy: I owe it all to the Fathers of your Society; principally to Zenobius de Medices, and Servantius Minius: of whom he was wont to relate this passage.

These two had agreed together, every night, be∣fore they went to Mattens, to confesse their sins to one another, but the enemy of mankind envying them so great a good, knocks at Zenobius's chamber one night, two hours before ordinary, and cries, O ho, rise, 'tis high time: whereat he awaks, and leaping out of bed hies him to Church, where he finds the counterfeit Servantius walking hard by the seat of Confession. Zenobius taking him for Servantius indeed devoutly kneels to make his confession, the devill sits by, takes it, and at any fault the Penitent confest, an∣swered, Pish, this is nothing, no fault, this: then dis∣covering some worse offence, still he replyed, These are but trifles. Zenobius hearing that, mistrusting the devils wiles, crossing himself thus bespake the Father of lies; Art not thou that fiend infernall? at which he vanisht away, both disappointed of his hope, and confounded with shame.

Besides these he resorted to an eminent Preacher of the Order of the Humiliati, called Baldoline, whom he greatly delighted to hear; of whose Sanct••ty, he gave a very fair Character, affirming that Florence

was saved by this mans prayers; in the Year 1527. What time the Duke of Bourbon passing with his army through Italy, assaulted Rome.

The Holy Youth thus taken up with Spirituall im∣ployments, this divine priviledge was granted him, that burning with the love of all vertues he even flamed with a Zeal of suffering for Christ. He was then about fifteen years of age, when he fell into a burning fever, which he endured with that patience and resolution, that though his body lay under the strokes of the disease, his Spirit seemed in a sort a∣bove it: therefore secretly hiding the matter, his chief care was to conceal from the family his being Sick.

No less bravery of minde did he express, when his Fathers house being on fire, he bare with such moderation the loss of no small quantity of goods; that he thereby raised in all a very great opinion of his future piety.

Chap. 2. He is sent to his Ʋncles in Campania.

THere was an Ʋncle of Philips named Romulus, a man very industrious, who going from Florence into Campania, and living a Merchant at S. Germans had there got an estate to the value of 22000 Crowns, and more: to him therefore was Philip at eighteen years old, by his Father dispatched, with designe, that applying himself to Merchandise, he might make him his heir, especially having none nearer a kin to him then he. So coming to S. Germans, he was by his Ʋncle kindly received, towards whom he so demeaned himself, that observing his ingenuity and

maners, he purposed to make him his heir; but that God who had destined him to nobler ends, defeated the contrivances of his Ʋncle: and Philip within a while perceiving himself called forth to a far better course of life, began to consult of altering his condi∣tion: to the perfecting which project of his, that which now comes to be related did conduce.

At the Port of Caieta, not far off S. Germans, there riseth a Mountai••, fam'd by report for one of those that ren•• asunder at the Passion of our Saviour. This mountain parts it self into three huge clefes from top to bottom, of which the midlemost is much the wid∣est; where on a high and stately Rock stands a Chap∣pel remarked for an ancient Crucifix in it, wh••ch, as they passe by, the Seamen are wont to salute with vol∣leys of Shot.

Hither ofttimes Philip retires, the better to con∣template on the mysteries of the Passion: where loath∣ing daily more and more the varnished follies, and gilded roctenness of this world, he resolved, quit∣ting his Merchants affairs, to make choice of a life, wherein he might freely serve God, with a minde disinteressed from worldly cares. His Ʋncle soon dis∣covers his drift, and labours might and main to alter his Resolutions:

First promiseth to leave him sole Heir to his whole estate; then mindes him of the Nerian Family, like to fail utterly in him; which he should do well to think of; and neither hastily nor unadvisedly determin a matter of that conse∣quence; Lastly tells him, he had not deserved so ill at his hands, as not to obtain one favour from him,

in lieu of so many bestowed. Philip as was fit, mo∣destly replyed; He should never be unmindful of his favours indeed; but as to the rest, he rather commended his affection, then approved his counsel.

Chap. 3. His going to Rome: and first Fervors in Spirit.

WHen he had been at S. Germans two years, moved by impulse of the H. Spirit, he comes to Rome, not so much as acquainting his Father there∣with, lest he might divert him from his intentions.

At his entrance into the City, he met with an op∣portunity (to his own wish) of devoting himself to Christ: for going to one Galeottus Caccius a Gentle∣man of Florence, whom possibly he formerly knew, he seeing the modesty of the youth, took him into his house, and pittying his necessity, allotted him a little chamber, allowing him yearly a quantity of Corn, which Philip gave to a Baker, to whom he repaired daily for a loaf to sustain life with.

This his kindness the pious young man was not wanting to requite, even with a greater; taking up∣on him the instruction of Galeottus's two Sons, both in Learning and Manners; whom in a short time he brought to that pass, that in innocence and purity they seemed Angels rather than men.

Here for divers years did Philip lead a most austere life, shunning all Company and commerce; so that there be, who affirm him to have lived an Anchorets life even in the heart of the City. His diet was so spare, you would have said, Hunger could not pinch, nor Thirst parch him; for when the Servants used at first to save him a share at meals, yet would he go down into the yard to the well, and dine or sup with bread and water; adding sometimes a few olives or herbs: yea oftimes fasting three dayes together. His chamber was slightly furnished, for except a little Bed, and a few Books, you should scarce finde any thing there.

His necessaries both of linnen and woollen hung on a line tyed cross the room. He was much in Prayer, wherewith he was so delighted, that he needed no external inducement, his own inclinations did so hurry him thereto, spending sometimes whole nights and dayes therein. This his emment course of life became so notorious, that not Florence alone, but most of the Cities of Italy heard the fame thereof.

Chap. 4. His Study of Philosophy and Theologie.

ANd the better to attain the perfection of divine knowledge, and contemplate on heavenly things, he annexeth to the exercises of Piety, the studies of Philosophy and Divinity. And applying him∣self first to Philosophy, he therein so acquitted him, that not without cause he was ranked amongst the learned'st Scholars, eminent in those dayes in the Colledge at Rome. His Praeceptors were the chief in all the City, Alphonso Ferrio, and Caesar Jacobellius, after∣wards Bishop.

He studied Divinity among the Augustine Friers; wherein he made such a progress, that he gained enough to serve him for his whole life: insomuch that when he was old, he would answer the deepest questions in Theologie as readily, as if he had come from his studies but the other day: sometimes dis∣cussing such points with his Sons, who were vers'd in them; both to endear them the more to him, and by these allectives, further and promote them in Christian Devotion. At other times (but that seldom) he would discourse thereof with the most judicious Divines of that Age; of whom were Ambrosius de

Balneolo, afterward made Bishop of Nardo by Pius the V. and Paulus Bernardinus of Luca of the Order of S. Dominic, famous for Wisdom and Learning, with whom he was very intimate. To others he car∣ried himself with such Modesty, as though he had scarce been in the Confines of Learning. Whereupon a wise Prelate visiting him, and conferring at large with him, said at his parting: I took this for an igno∣rant and unletter'd man, but in truth I finde him ex∣cellently qualified for vertue and profound knowledge: the like befell Alexander Saulius, Bishop, first of Ale∣ria, then of Pavie, famous for holiness and learning, who propounding some Theological questions to him, wondred at his sharp understanding, and gave him the like testimony.

Hence it was his custome, that if any of His had in his hearing delivered any thing, either unwarily or obscurely, in their ordinary Sermons, (of which course more hereafter) he would presently up into the Pulpit, and explain it with such weight of reasons and significancy of terms, you would have said, his Doctrine was rather inspired by God, then acquired from Art.

In Theologie he mostwhat inclined to the judge∣ment of S. Thomas, whose Summ he had still by him: nor was he less a proficient in the H. Scriptures; by continual reading whereof, and daily meditation, he was able to interweave the sacred Oracles with his discourse, to the great advantage of his hearers.

Nor in his younger time did he neglect Poetry, as well Latine as Italian, in which he grew so dextrous, that on a sudden he would compose excellent verses at pleasure. Yet while he thus intended his studies, he did not for this omit the exercises of Religion and Charity; but resorted to the Infirmaries of the City, carefully tended the sick, taught in the Cathedrals

the principles of Faith, and the like; in brief, refused nothing that any way conduced to the good of Souls. Yea, for the time he studied Divinity, whensoever he fixed his eyes on the Crucifix which hung up in the Schools, he was not able to forbear sighs and tears. So that, as at Florence he was sirnamed Pippus bonus, so at Rome he gained the title of Philippus bonus, Philip the vertuous.

Chap. 5. Quitting his Studies he devotes himself wholly to Christ.

AS soon as he had gathered from Sciences, and reading Holy Books what he thought might suffice to the promoting his own and others Salvati∣on, taking S. Pauls advice; Non plus Sapere, quam o∣portet sapere; That none presume to understand, above what is meet to understand; all business set aside, he determined to know nothing but Christ and him Cru∣cified. Hereupon he sold all the Books he had, and bestowed the Money on the Poor: which act of Chari∣ty performed, he betook him to his Prayers with more fervent devotion; even to the spending dayes and nights therein, and continuing sometimes in it full forty houres.

And for his better progress, he began more severely to afflict his body, sleeping on the ground anights, beating himself every day with small Iron Chaines, declining the Company of men, daily frequenting the seven Churches of the Citty, especially the Cae∣mitery of Callistus; where carrying with him only one loaf for his provision, he would many times pass whole nights in supplications: which strange course of life he led for ten years together. Which Francis

Cardonius, a Dominican (who then in Rome had charge of the Novices in the Monastery of S. Maria su∣pra Minervam:) observing, to encourage others to the practises of stricter holiness, would frequently tell them; Phil••p Neri indeed was a right holy person; who, besides many wonderfull things done by him; lived ten whole years in S. Sebastians Grots.

If he chanced at any time to finde the Church-doors shut, when he repaired to those holy places, he was won•• to stand in the Porch; and there imploy himself in meditation on heavenly things; oftimes in read∣ing some pious book by Moon-light. Here was he en∣riched with such celestial treasures, here was he so ravished with delights, that when he could no longer sustain those overcomming pleasures, he would cry out; It is enough, good God, it is enough, withhold I entreat thee, withhold the excesses of thy Grace, for I cannot ••ear them: and falling flat upon the earth, he was fa••n to roll himself too and fro. No wonder therefore, if being big with him, who fills heaven, and earth, he did divers times affirme, that nothing was more irksome, more a burden to him that truely lov∣ed God, than life: oft using that memorable and common saying, That Holy Men endured life, desired death.

Yet God not only thus feasted his Champion with Spirituall Dainties, but on the other side exercised him with the encounters of divels that assaulted him. He went once to the Lateran Church, and passing the Amphitheater of Vespasian, an evill spirit in the like∣ness of a naked person comes out and meets him, sug∣gesting filthy and impure thoughts to him: but the chast youth knowing the wily artifices of that old Ser∣pent betakes him to his wonted artillery of Prayer, with which he shamefully worsted the fiend.

One night also, not far from S. Sebastians Church,

on a suddain three devills with ugly and grim visages (the more to fright him) met him praying, and meditating as he walked, but he, as one disdaining them, discovering no sign of fear went on undaunt∣edly, continuing in prayer with great tranquility: at which they fled, frustrate of their expectations. And with many other combats in this kinde did those wicked spirits assail him, over whom notwithstand∣ing this valliant Souldier of Christ victoriously tri∣umphed. Of which in their proper places.

Chap. 6. The miraculous Palpitation of his Heart.

HAving lived thus a long time, and now 29 years of age, among other priviledges wherewith God honoured him, the miraculous beating of his heart, the fracture of two of his ribs, so that they stuck out, were not the meanest: which befell him after this manner.

A little before Witsuntide, a festivity dedicated to the Holy Ghost, to whom Philip having long since piously surrendred up himself, now more intensely pray'd; Lo! on an instant he perceived himself seiz∣ed with such a passionate fervour of Divine Love, that flinging himself on the earth, like one in a swoon gasping for air, he was forced immediately to bare his brest: when, the extream heat somewhat allayed, he rose, and transported with extraordinary joy, put∣ting his right hand to his left side, found a kind of rising where the heart is & seated, swollen to the bigness of ones fist.

What the cause of this tumor was, plainly appear∣ed when he was dead, in the view of divers: for as

the Surgeon opened his Corpse before skilful Anato∣mists that were by; they found two of the five lesser, which they call the short, ribs, broken clean asunder, and sticking forth like a bow, which for fifty years afterward that he lived, at no time ever closed again: and yet (which seems incredible) he never found from it, either then, or afterward, the least pain or trouble.

At the same time, though he were in very good temper of body, and perfectly free from any grief or passion, yet was he suddenly taken with a palpitation of the heart, that held him from that moment to his last breath: Yet it used to seize on him only when he was conversant in matters of Religion; as when he said Mass, gave Absolution, ministred the Body of Christ, prayed, or performed the like offices; at which his heart would so leap within him, as though it would have broke its prison, and have forced its way through him. Then should you have seen the stools, bed, and the chamber it self shaken and tossed, as with an earth-quake; so once at the Cathedral of S. Peter when kneeling down upon a great and heavy board, his whole body did so quake and tremble, that the board he rested on moved up and down, like a thing of no weight at all. From that time was Philip so de∣voted unto the Holy Ghost, that after he was Priest, he would every day (except the rites of the Church were against it) use that prayer in the Sacrifice of the Mass; Deus cui omne cor patet.

Hence it was likewise, that if any Penitent coming to Confession chanced to lean against his breast, he should (even to admiration) feel that throbbing of his heart, and, if his head touched him, sometimes perceive it recoil, as if struck with a hammer; and he in the mean while freed of all Temptations. So that Tiberius Ricciardellus, Canon of the forenamed

Church of S. Peter, who voluntarily served the H. Man four years together, left this upon record.

What time I served the B. man (saith he) I was surprized with a lewd and foul imagination, which so soon as I had disclosed unto him, he bade me come neerer, and joyn my breast to his; I ap∣proached, did so, and was instantly rid of it, never after being molested with like impurities.

Thus Tiberius. The same do Marcellus Vitellescus, Canon of S. Maria Major, one very gracious with Philip, and sundry others avouch.

Besides, that part of his breast burned with such extream heat, that it diffused it self over all his body; and even when he grew in years, and was almost spent * 1.2 with incredible abstinence, yet in the depth of Winter, in the in the middle of the night was he forced to uncover his breast, open Windows, and by several wayes, (as he could) let in the cooler air. Which im∣moderate heat grew so great at some times, that not only his hands grew exceeding hot, but his throat was dried up and scorched, as it had been on fire: that in winter, when all things are chill, and stiff with frost and snow, you should have seen a man worn out with old age, walk open-breasted thorow the City.

But when the Physicians, in regard of the differing Symptoms, which he found from this panting, ap∣plyed several and contrary medecines; he jestingly said, I would these men knew but the cause of my malady▪ intimating that he was not distempered by any natu∣ral sickness, but wounded rather with Divine Love: and therefore used to say, Vulneratus sum Charitate ego, I am wounded with love. As likewise finding him∣self ensnared in the love of Christ, he would sing in Italian.

Vorrei saper da voi, com' ell' é fatta Questa rete d'amor, che tanti hà preso?

I would fain be by you taught How this Net of Love is wrought, Where so many have been caught.

In like manner he would oftimes throw himself upon his bed, and there languish, surcharged with the too delicious Gusts of the Spirit. So truly was that in the Canticles verified in him, Fulcite me, &c. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. But to conceal his secret from the no∣tices of any, he gave out, those Fits arose either from indisposition of body, or long custom; and therefore purposely wore a Hankerchief on the left side of his breast, that the extension of his Ribs might not be perceived. This also in his palpitation was at∣tributed to a miracle, that it took him not by con∣straint, but by consent; as he more then once de∣clared to Cardinal Borromeo his most intimate friend. And therefore Andreas Caesalpinus, and Angelus Victo∣rius, with other able Physicians, set forth several Tracts about it, shewing how this thrusting forth his Ribs befell him by a special Providence of God; that his heart (likely otherwise to be oppressed in so vio∣lent a motion) having by this means a larger circuit, might beat freelier, and gather air the better.

After he had received of God this favour, he be∣gan more than ever to visit the seven Churches; whom, as he was going one day, the Spirit of God so strong∣ly seized on, that cast down to the ground, he was fain to cry out; Depart from me, O Lord, depart; for lo! I die; and except thou help, I can no longer bear it. From which time the Merciful Lord somewhat a∣bated and lessened those impetuous violences of Holy Love.

Chap. 7. His good works, and pains for the Conversion of others.

HAving now a long while lived thus, severed from the society of men, and now called forth by the supream Lord of all for the good of Souls, he applies himself wholly to the conversion of Sinners. To that end he resorts to publique meetings, the company of Scholars, frequents the Academies, in∣trudes into the assemblies of the prophane, diligent∣ly repairing to the chief places of busines: where on all occasions, without any regard of their persons, treating of divine things, he wan many, whom by degrees he gently led to Christ.

Among others, whom he converted, was Henry Petra of Placentia, who by his perswasions forsaking his Merchandise, was made Priest, and lived very ex∣emplarily at a Church of S. Hierom's, where he made a Holy end. This was he that amplified and enlarged the Congregation of Christian Doctrine in the City. Next he gained unto Christ Theseus Raspa, who like∣wise leaving the profession of a Merchant took Orders, and died full of years and good works at the same Church with Petra. He reclaimed also John Manzo∣lius, who, though a Laique, yet aspiring to perfecti∣on, gave a great example of vertue unto many. Be∣sides many others, whom he reduced to the paths of life, of whom hereafter.

And as his Charity encreased, he (no doubt by di∣rections from the H. Spirit) began to consort with the most lewd recreants in all the City (but being of that age, not with women at all) many of which he perswaded to better courses. Of these there was one

of the chief Bankers, who inveigled with the Love of pelf, and mired in Sottish and carnal plea∣sures led a most dissolute life. He being by Phi∣lips means incensed with a Zeal to the service of God repaired to a Priest, for absolution of his sins, who repulsed him, for that he refused to abjure committing the same again, he, coming to Philip something sad, relates what had hap∣ned, beseeching him to pray to God for him, though most unworthy. Philip chearing his deject∣ed minde, and making light of the difficulties said Go: I am now hasting to pray for you; and will not desist till I have moved the most High to pitty: and so he did: for shortly after, upon his withstand∣ing the next occasions to those sins, he was ab∣solved according to his desires by the same Priest, who had formerly rejected him; and became a great observer of Philip ever after.

And here must not be forgot, that when he was young, being very handsome, he was by some debauched persons inticed to villany as he came from Sermon; but he immediately discoursed to them ex tempore of the ugliness of vice, and digni∣ty of vertue, with such courage, that they went away his converts, who came to pervert him.

He drave divers to severall Religious Orders. Whereupon S. Ignatius Loiola Founder of the So∣ciety of Jesus living then at Rome, used to call him the Saints-bell of that time; for that he excited others to Regular Discipline, while himself led a Secular life: just as the Bell that tolls others to Church, and it self the while abides in the Stee∣ple. Ignatius was desirous to have made him his own, but God had otherwise appointed.

Philips Sons observed, that those who despised

his counsel for the most part came to an ill end. So it chanced to one that professed Philosophy, whom Philip had chid for some heinous fact, but he sligh∣ted his admonition; and no sooner went from the place, but was unfortunately murdred. The like hapned to another, whom once, or twice he had wished to repent, who growing obstinate, with∣in a few dayes was imprisoned, convicted of a notorious crime, and adjudged to dye, but at the earnest suit of his friends was condemned to the Gallies.

Yet whilst imployed in the cure of Souls, he neglects not other acts of piety, he oft visited Hospitals, where with his own hands he made beds, cleansed away all filth, swept the floor, serv∣ed in meat, and did such like offices; but in the first place commended to God the Souls of dying people; not leaving them till they either recover∣ed, or died.

These instances of Christian charity so inflamed the hearts of many unto Piety, that not only the Clergy, but even the Laity, and Nobility began to frequent Infirmities and places of charity (a thing not common in that age) where, as every one stood affected they releived the fick, or strangers and pilgrims. Hence the Order of those that mi∣nister to the Sick had its Originall; whose first In∣stituter was Camillus Lellius, a man renowned for his vertues, and a great admirer of Philip. Here it must not be passed over, that Philip affirmed, how when two of this order were one time com∣mending to God the Souls of the dying, he saw An∣gels wispering words in their ears: which thing he had often related to them, to encourage those reli∣gious persons to so important a duty of piety; as is mentioned in their Chronicle.

CHAP. 8. He erects the Fraternity dedicated to the H. Trinity.

BEsides these the H. Man contrived otherways for the good of his Neighbours; for in the year 1548. on the 16^th. of August, together with Persianus Rosa a devout Priest (his Confessarius) he instituted the Society of the most H. Trinity in the Church of S. Saviours in the Camp.

Here Philip and about fifteen more met, where besides the frequent use of Sacraments, and other religious exercises, they communed about spiritual matters with great devotion, provoking one ano∣ther to Christian perfection. The first Sunday of every Moneth, and yearly in Holy week before Easter, according to the custom of the Church, they for the space of forty hours exposed the B. Sacrament of the Eucharist in most solemn manner; at the performing which Philip discoursed of hea∣venly things (sometimes at each hours end) with such fervency of Spirit, as there was none so hard and inflexible, but relented while he spake: and once it fell out, that at one throw (letting down the net of Divine exhortation) he drew up thirty young men together who stuck fast in the mudd of an impure conversacion: yea divers that came to jeer, seeing a Lay-man preach (a thing then unu∣sall) struck with the force of his words betook them to the practises of a holy life.

During the time of these prayers, he for the most part spent a day and a night in heavenly contem∣plation; and at the end of each hour by a signall

dismissed them that prayed, calling up others, and saying, See Brethren, the houre indeed is spent, but never the time of doing well.

The Institution of this Society (which continues at this present) was, that Pilgrims coming to Rome out of devotion, might be hospitably entertained: which in the Jubile following under Pope Julius the third began to grow to a perfect work. For the number of those that came to the City being in these years much greater, and no place setled for poor and strangers to lodg in, Philip and his associ∣ates moved with charity courteously received them: and the resort increasing exceedingly, there was a necessity of hiring a larger house to lodge the many comers the more conveniently.

This charitable work excites divers to the like: in such wise, that every day you should see, whilst whole multitudes of travellers flocked in from all parts, some washing their feet, others bringing them victuals, others making their beds; some comforting the distressed, instructing the Ignorant, all diligent in doing all offices of charity and piety. So that the good savour of this Order diffusing 'its fragrancy abroad far and wide, sundry were ambi∣tions of entring into it.

The first of this fraternity (who all reverenced Philip as their Father) though but meanly accomo∣dated with temporals, had neverthelesse a rich fur∣niture of their own vertues; for he that had the lowest office among them, serving in the Kitchin, arrived to so high perfection, that going many times at midnight from his lodging, looking up to heaven he would be even rapt with the meditation of things divine. Another likewise of the same so∣ciety foreseeing the day of his death, sends for his

Sister, and bid her write, such an hour on Friday I shall depart: and departed the same hour as he had said.

Further these pious, and compassionate men, ob∣serving sick men turned out of the Hospitals, before they were quite recovered, oftimes relapsing with greater peri of their lives, appointed that such for some dayes should be relieved here, till they were perfectly well. All which, being daily augment∣ed, and enlarged, was for conveniency removed from the Church of S. Saviours to that place where the Temple of the H. Trinity is now erected, at the Bridge Xistns.

And to what greatness this work hath rise, with∣in these three last Jubiles, both our Fathers and our selves have beheld. For not only the chief Pre∣lates of the Court, and Cardinals of the Church of Rome; not only men, and women of principall note (the one toward the men, the other toward women) have bin seen performing services of all kinds; but there also you might behold the Pope himself (both to the admiration, and for the imi∣tation of the beholders) washing the feet of Pil∣grims, serving them at table, giving them Alms, and most devoutly doing such like offices; insomuch as the fame hereof was bruited throughout the whole Christian World.

CHAP. 9. He is made Priest, and Authorised to hear Confessions.

GOd therefore having determined the work of his Servant to the Cure of Souls, and Philip in

that condition being uncapable of such employ∣ment, inwardly excites Persianus Rosae his Confessor to perswade him to the taking H. Orders. At first he opposed it, objecting his weakness, and endea∣voured by many reasons to divert Persianus from those thoughts: but he peremptorily demands his obedience.

So in the year 1551. (the Council of Trent not then broken up) Philip at the age of 36. in March at S. Thomas's Church in Parione, but upon severall days, received his first Tonsure, the four inferiour Orders, and Subdeaconship: and the same moneth and year, namely on the Saturday in Holy week was made Deacon at the Lateran Church: and on the 23^d. of May the same year, Priest, at S. Thomas's.

Soon after he went to dwell at S. Hierom's a Charitate, where lived some few yet holy Priests: viz. Bonsignorius Cacciaguerra of Siena, a man e∣minent for his Sanctity, and Learned, Persianus Rosa Philips Confessor; Francis Marsupinius of A∣rezzo, one of great simplicity and integrity, who next after Persianus was Philips Confessor; one Fran∣cis sirnamed the Spaniard, no whit inferiour to the rest in vertue; and Peter Spatarias of A∣rezzo too; one of extraordinary piety, and the last of all the Priests at S. Hierom's that were his Confessors. For these dying he chose John Baptist a P••••usian of the society of Jesus for some years; and last of all Caesar Baronius to his dying day.

These servants of Christ, lived in the same house together, united fast in the same bond of mutual charity and respects; without any other particular constitution of government, save only Love, none superiour to other, nor having one table, but keep∣ing their order of seniority, cared for nothing but

to outvy each other in the serving of God, and helping their Neighbours. Which Order continues still, and flourisheth to the great example of vertue: and here was Philip Authorised for the taking Confessions; whereby he dayly gained opportuni∣ties for promoting the good of Souls.

CHAP. X. The Original of the Spiritual Conferences.

BUt for that most then neglected the things per∣taining to salvation, and counted it enough for them to confess their sins once or twice a year: Philip observing, that the bane of souls principally arose hence; employed all his wit and pains to a∣nimate and stir them up to more frequent use of the Sacraments, and the discharge of other religi∣ous duties: which with those devout persons al∣ready mentioned he restored, or at least promo∣ted at Rome.

And to effect it the better, laying all aside, he gave himself wholly to the hearing Confessions, hav∣ing no small number of Penitents, and considering what great advantages accrewed thereby, bestowed part of the night also herein: and betimes in the Morning gave audience to others confessing to him in his Chamber; for whose conveniency he layd the key of his door in a constant place, that they might have access to him at their pleasure.

As soon as ever the Church-doors were open, he straight betook him to his seat of Penance, which he left not usually, except to say Mass, or when some urgent occasion called him away. When none

came he stayed there either meditaring, or walk∣ing before the Church-porch; that if any needed his help they might presently have recourse to him, as being at leasure. He was so delighted in hear∣ing Confessions, that he would often say, he took exceeding pleasure in but fitting in the Penitential chair; and therefore as long as he lived he omitted not this service. And when any asked him, Fa∣ther, why do you over-burden your self with so great pains taking? his answer was, I am so far from thinking it a burden, that I finde it an ease and re∣creation to me.

Neither was it enough in his opinion to allure many by these artifices, but he also laboured to strengthen and confirm them in the ways of God. To which end he took order for their meeting in his chamber after dinner, (for at those hours the wise man knew the incursions of the Noon-day devil were most of all to be avoided and withstood) where gathering round about him, he either sitting or resting on the bed, proposed some moral subject, as the beauty of vertue, or deformity of vice, or else the life of some Saint, whereto every one contri∣buted his part. Which pious discourse ended, Phi∣lip repeating what was said, fol∣lowed the argument with such * 1.3 eagerness, that he a shook the whole room with his action, and oftimes his body was seen lifted up into the air, and he standing as on the Ground.

At first there were present at these Conferences but seven or eight: viz. Simon Grazinius and Mon∣tes Zazzara, Florentines; Michael a Prato a Shoe∣maker, two young men Goldsmiths; and a Roman, one of the Maximi: but the number afterward in∣creasing,

the H. man at his own charges provided a larger, and more convenient room in the same house.

CHAP. XI. His first Penitents.

WIth these religious exercises did He win ma∣ny of the prime of the City, which became famous in all manner of vertues. Among which the principal were John Baptist Salviatus, Sisters son to Katharine de Medices, Queen of France; who was not ashamed to stoop unto the meanest services for Christs sake, even to attendance on the Hospitals, an employment then thought (but thought unjust∣ly) ignominious for a Noble man; all which he managed with such evidences of his Charity and and Humility, that the sick out of respect to his Person refused his service, which many times he was fain to force upon them. One day making the beds in an Hospital (as his manner was) he found one sick, which had formerly been his servant, who (when he would have made his bed) sick as he was opposed him: the Master urged, the Servant re∣fused; so that a great quarrel began betwixt them, till after a hot contest the Masters Piety got the victory of the Servants Modesty.

This man was such a master of his affections, that he who lately stalked through the City, gor∣geously array'd, attended with a numerous train of servants, having once relished the Spirit, began now utterly to abandon the empty ostentation of such State; yet Philip wished him to go well ha∣bited,

and keep a competent Retinue for the Ho∣nour of his house. By these and the like vertues he so pleased God, that at his death, armed with the Sacraments of the Church, and spreading forth his hands to Heaven, he sang that of David, Laetae∣tus sum in his quae dicta sunt mihi, in domum Domini ibimus: I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord: and so breathed out his soul in the arms of Philip his most tender Father.

Before this, Philip had long since brought Por∣tia the Wise of this Salviatus, one of the Maximi, to a wonderful height of Piety; for living a Wi∣dow at Florence, she resolved on some stricter course of serving God; and thereupon withdrew unto a Monastery of Religious Virgins: but not having her health well at Florence, returned to Rome, where, entring into the Nunnery of S. Katharine of Siena on Mount Viminal, being very aged, as she had lived vertuously, so she died holy and lamented.

Next Salviatus was Francis Maria Taurusius Po∣litianus, allied to two Popes, Julius the third, and Marcellus the second; a man of great parts, and for his excellencies and abilities of mind by the Princes highly esteemed, and of much repute at Court. He, upon occasion of a certain Indulgence at that time published, went to the Church of S. Hie∣rom a Charitate to Confession, and found the good man, never unprepared to such offices. When he had done Confession, Philip had him to his chamber; where, after many and several discourses, he took an occasion to desire him to go and pray with him one hour. Taurusius yielded to it; and found in that space such a gust of heavenly things, that the hour seemed less then a minute to him. And when afterwards coming to Philips lodging, he oft saw

him hoised up into the air whilst he pray'd he be∣gan to have a venerable esteem of him, and in∣flamed with more ardent affections unto holiness, thought of prescribing to himself a new course of life. But withheld by some obstacles from those purposes of serving God, he acquaints Philip with them; who bids him Go, and rest contented; for those lets that now hinder you within a moneth will be over: and at the moneths end returning to the H. man well quieted and at ease, he confessed to him, with great contrition and remorse, the sins of his whole life; and finding in Confession that Philip could discover his very thoughts and imaginations, became such a lover and admirer of him, that fore∣going the Pomp and splendour of the Court, he re∣signed up himself wholly to his conduct.

This man had so burning a zeal, and fervent de∣votion, as needed more correctives to allay, than incentives to excite it: and he so wholly depended in every thing upon the Divine pleasure, that he never lost the tranquility of minde, which he had at his first conversion. He highly reverenced Philip; so that being fourscore years of age, and dignified with the Cardinals purple, he gloried most, that he had laid his ground-work in Christs School under Nerius for above fifty years. He was famous for the gift of prayer and tears. He was so excellent at making familiar Sermons, that he is stiled by Baro∣nius in his Ecclesiastical Annals, Dux Verbi; the Chieftain of the Preachers. Clement the eighth cre∣ated him first Archbishop of Avignion: and then conferred on him the Cardinal Dignity: when he was in years he earnestly besought the Fathers, that he might return to them, and end his dayes in the Congregation, they all assented; so, not long after,

in the year of our Lord 1608. and of his age the 82^d. and the eighth moneth, he devoutly ended his life, and lies buried in the Church.

There was besides, among the sons of this H. Fa∣ther, Constantius Tassonius, Nephew to Peter Bertanus Cardinal of Phanum, who being so great a Courtier as he was thought never to be weaned from the world, yet by his converse and acquaintance with Philip, retired from Court, and arrived to a most eminent piety, there being not the meanest duty of charity which he would not most willingly undertake: Thrice a week, and for the most part, every day, he opened himself to his Confessor, and fed on the Bread of Heaven: went every day to Hospitals and Alms-houses; refusing no means of conquering his own will, imposed on him by Philip. When he was made Priest he said Mass every day: so averse to riches and Church-preferments, that be∣ing offered a Benefice of a considerable value, he rejected it. For his extraordinary Sanctity and Vertue he was by S. Carlo sollicited to come to Millain, where he continued in his family to his dying day in high estimation; at last being dispatch∣ed to Rome by that H. Cardinal, he dyed in the bosom of Philip, who foretold his death to him, as after will appear.

One of the eldest of Philips Scholars was John Ba∣ptist Modius, a Calabrian by profession a Physician, one learned and vertuous, that writ ex∣cellently of the waters of Tiber: and compleated some Notes of the B. Jacoponius upon the Canticles. Once Philip came to see him almost dead with a fit of the Stone; and exhorted him to patience; when going out he stept into the next Church, and pray∣ed to God most fervently for him; and at the

first tear the H. man shed, Mo∣dius voided the stone. There∣upon * 1.4 being recovered, not un∣mindful of the blessing, he put himself into his sole patronage and tuition. He was of a milde temper, soon affected with the miseries of others; very ready in preaching; who by Philips appointment (whilst yet a Lay-man) with much banefit and content unto the Auditors; re∣hearsed the lives of the Saints over in the Oratory: of which hereafter. When he died, Philip appointed to that employment Antony Fuccius of Tifernum. a Physician able and pious, and one of the H. mans disciples, who had agreed to go with him into the Indies, for propagating the Christian Faith.

There was also one Martius Alterius greatly de∣voted to Philip, a Roman; one who was so good a proficient under his discipline, that Moses like, for the exuberances of the Spirit, he could scarce frame to speak of Divine matters. He was also so compassionate to the poor, that he gave them his very bed.

Adde to these Matthew Stendardus, Nephew to Paul the fourth, Bernardinus a Valle of Com••, Fulvius Amodeus, James Marmita, John Antonius a S. Seve∣rina, Lewis Paris, who lived with Philip as his me∣nial servant almost thirty years: and many others of the prime families of Italy, all of which gave singular proof of their profiting by his Discipline, before the whole Court of Rome.

Beside these he had other Sons, of mean rank in∣deed, but of illustrious piety. Of which the first was Steven a shoe-maker of Arimium, who lately living a Souldier led a dissolute and profane life,

in the abetting quarrels and maintaining of sends: being at Rome he hapned to go to the Oratory of S. Hieroms to the sermon there, and in civility to the rest sat the lowest of all; but Philip though he neither knew nor had seen him before, brings him to the uppermost seat kindly inviting him to sit down; when the company was gone coming to him again, he used him with such respect, that being wone partly with Gods Word, partly with these, courtesies he frequented the sermons every day, by the constant use of which and of the Sacraments he by degrees cast off his long accustomed evill habits, and by little and little attained unto the height of vertue. He was so propense to works of mercy, that albeit he lived poorly, yet of that he got weekly in his trade, abating necessary diet, he distributed the rest among the poor. He continually medita∣ted on his latter end, preparing himself thereto, no less than if he had bin to dye that day: yet his daily thinking thereon made him not alter his countenance, nor leave his wonted chearfulness. He was strict in his obedience, and much in prayer, in which he received many and great favours from our Lord; particularly this that in the Church of the H. Trinity he was seen to shine with a marvai∣lous brightness. Thus sequestred from all kinde of company, lived he in a small cottage about 23 years, and being advised by his friends (suspect∣ing he might dye suddenly without notice taken) not to live alone, he made answer, that he relyed on the B. Virgins patronage, and doubted not, but that pious Mother would assist him in such an ex∣igent. Nor was he mistaken in the event, for one night being like to dye on the sudden, he went out and called some of his neighbours to stay by him,

and fetch the Curate of the Parish; and going to bed again, when he had fitted himself in due man∣ner with all the Sacraments, he quietly surrendred up his Spirit.

Next to Steven was Francis Maria firnamed Fer∣rariensis an honest and upright man, one who could smell a filthy stench in sin, and sometimes had heard the musique of Angels: when he communicated (which he did every day) or discoursed about hea∣venly matters he would even melt into tears. With∣all so ambitious of suffering for Christ, that once in grievous tortures of the stone he pray'd God, if he saw it good to inflict more on him; upon the ut∣tering which words he was presently cured. He was so desirous of the salvation of others, that af∣ter 3 years tears shed for a certain Jew he at length procured his conversion of God. Taurusius found him once weeping fore, and demanding the reason of it, I could almost drown my selfe in tears, saith he, when I think of the words of our Saviour, Cum haec om∣nia feceritis, dicite, &c. When we have done all these things, say, we are unprofitable servents: for if the Apostles suffering so much for Christ, must call themselves unprofitable, what shall I poor wretch say, that remember no good ever done by me? The same Taurusius found him another time very intent in prayer, going backwards still as though some huge mountain had bin coming upon him, and asking why he did so: I was saith he, me∣ditating on Gods immensity and greatness, which ap∣pearing still greater and greater to me caused me even with my body to retreat likewise.

Another of Philips disciples was Thomas a Sicili∣an, who through his managery attained to such a pitch of humility, that he took it for a high ho∣nour

to have but the office of sweeping So Peters Church in the Vatican: which when he obtained, he discharged with all diligence and care. In the day time he never went out of the Church; In the night he would fetch a light nap on the steps of some Altar: having lived in this office divers years, the devil, enduring his unshaken constancy, put him into a fright, that by being terrified he might desert his emploiment. So, as he rested se∣curely one night, the evil spirit on the sudden made a great noise in the Church, that he verily thought all the seats had bin taken up and presently dashed against the ground; herewith awakned he rose, and taking a wax-light looked round the Church, but found nothing misplaced at all: and prying narowly into the private corners and holes; lest some thief might lye ••id there, he spied a de∣vil skulking hehinde a pillar in the likeness of an ugly More; Thomas boldly ran to him, lifting up his hand to strike him a box on the ear, but the Fa∣ther of pride ashamed, vanished; so, he unappalled returned to his place, and slept on quietly.

Among other of Philips Scholers was Frier Lewis of Spoleto, so called, not for that he entred into a∣ny Religious Order, but for that in honour of S. Francis he alwaies wore hair cloth. He sustained great temporal poverty, but was requited by a spiritual opulency, and the most pretious vertues, especially purity. For which reason Philip allotted him the care of the Virgins of S. Katherinede Rosa; of which; when for certain causes he desired to be discharged, he could never get the B. mans con∣sent, as having sufficient experience of his chastity.

Of the number of his disciples must Peter firnam∣ed Molinarius be also reckoned, one who lost his

sight with excessive weeping; which he is reported to have recovered afterward by miracle from Al∣mighty God. Sundry other children in Christ had Philip, which died in high reputation for San∣ctity; of whom some are for brevities sake o∣mitted here, some, as occasion offers, shall be in∣serted in due place.

CHAP. XII. His Zeal for propagating the Christian Faith.

NOw while the children of this B. Father were conferring of divine things daily in his cham∣ber, where were sometimes read letters, that used to be sent yearly from the Indies to the Fathers of the Society of Jesus; Philip casting with himself how plentiful a harvest, and how few labourers there were in those parts, resolves (so he were ascer∣tained it would be acceptable to God) to go into the Indies, there to his utmost to propagate the Christian faith, and, if need were, shed his blood for the truth of Christ.

His intents he declares to some his chief famili∣ars, in number about twenty, of whom was Tauru∣sius; of these some he wishes to become Priests, only that thereby having procured the Apostolical Benediction they might take a voyage to the Indies. But because he would not enterprize nor determine any thing of moment but by advice, prayer, and the advantage of time, using longer Prayers then for∣merly, he went to a Monk of the Order of S. Be∣net, that dwelt in S. Pauls Monastery with∣out the City, and advised with him, as being in re∣pute

for his life and learning: he remitted him to another Monk of the Order of Cistercians, called Augustin Ghettine Govenourr of the Monastery of the H. Martyrs, Vincentius and Anastasius at Aquae Salviae.

This man was in esteem for knowledg and san∣ctity, by his parents dedicated to God and Reli∣gion ere he was born into the world. For his de∣vout Parents, having duely confessed, and received the B. Sacrament, were wont to consecrate to God their issue, as oft as it befel them, yet unborn. He was famous likewise for the Spirit of Prophecy; and exceedingly devoted to S. John the Evangelist; by whose means, he said, he had received very many favours: insomuch that being neer his end he cry∣ed out, My dear S. John (so he called him) hath assured me, I shall die on his Festival. And indeed as he said Mass on Christmas day, the Evangelist forewarned him, that next day after he should die: so, Mass being done, he hastned to bed, and arm∣ing him with the Sacrament of extream Ʋnction, the day following died.

To this Reverend person Philip relates what he had designed, and requests his advice aceording as the matter imported, he deferred in it, and bids him come again, that so he might give him a more punctuall answer. At the day appointed when Philip came, he returned him this answer; S. John the Evangelist had appeared to him, and told him plainly, that his Indies should be at Rome, and that God would use his service there for the good of many: telling him further that the Three Fountains seemed to him of bloody tincture, which, as S. John ex∣pounded it, presaged a great calamity on the City. Upon this Philip gave over, determining to settle

at Rome, and addict himself altogether to the fur∣thering and promoting the salvation of others, as long as he lived.

Yet did not this ardent Zeal of propagating the Faith chill in him at any time: for what he could not do among the Indians, he to his uttermost en∣deavoured in the City. When a Jew, Heretique, or any other Infidell met him, he could not refrain weeping at the first sight, he was so earnestly desi∣rous of his conversion: and therefore neglected no∣thing that might further it.

One time he travelled with Prosper Cribellius, one of his Sons, whom he loved well, to S. John Laterans; into whose companie a Jew chanced to light; as they went into the Church, reverently kneeling be∣fore the Altar, where was the H. Sacrament, the He∣brew stood with his hat on, turning his back upon the Altar, to whom Philip; Friend, let me intreat you to pray with me a little in these words, O Christ, if thou be the true God, grant that I embrace the Christi∣an faith: Far be that from me, replyed the Jew, that were to question my own Religion. Thereupon Philip spake to them that were by, Pray ye for him, for doubtless he shall receive the faith of Christ: and so it proved; for a while after, at the prayers of Philip, with other spirituall means, the Jew was baptized, and listed in Christs Militia.

On the Vigil of the H. Apostles Peter and Paul, Marcellus Ferrius, one of Philips Sons, hapned on two young men, Hebrews, in the porch of the Vatican Church: who saluting them courteously, began to discourse piously and profitably (and not in vain) of both the faith and glory of those Hebrew Apostles: thereby gently and by degrees perswad∣ing them to visit Philip at their leisure, who lived

then at S. Hieroms. They did so, and were kind∣ly entertained by the H. Father, whose sweetness and civility so transported them, that for some moneths together they constantly called on him at certain times; afterwards when they left coming, Philip sends for Marcellus, bids him carefully look out those young men. He goes to their house, en∣quires of their Mother, if they were well: she tells him one of them lay dangerously sick; he desired to have access to him, and, as God would have it, was admitted: when he came into the Room he findes him like to dye; his disease having taken a∣way his stomack quite, so that he refused all meats. The woman requests Marcellus to offer him meat if happily he would take it from his hand: he did, and the young man accepts whatsoever he offers. Marcellus when he saw his time, whispers in his ear. Philip remembers him kindly to you: at which, he was much pleased and smiled. Then Marcellus, Re∣member you promised Philip you would become a Christi∣an; I well remember it, said he, and will stand to my word. Marcellus informs Philip hereof, who o∣ver joy'd said to him, Doubt not, let us but fall to our prayers, and be confident, he will receive the faith. In fine, the sick party recovered and both he and his Brother were Baptized.

He converted also to the Christian faith, one of the wealthiest of the Jews, who was bapti∣zed in S. Peters Church. And because his Fa∣ther who was still a Jew was more familiar than was meet with the Son so lately become a Christian, Gregory the XIII^th. then Pope, fearing lest by this daily converse this new Souldier of Christs might receive harm, told Philip he liked not that kind of entercourse. The H. man replied, he there∣fore

suffered their society, for that he hoped by the sons means to gain the Father to Christ also. And he was not deceived in it, for as soon as the Son but brought his Father to Philip, he discoursed with such fervent charity, and forcible eloquence of true faith in God, that being enflamed there∣with he quickly was baptized, and admitted into the number of the faithfull.

Some years after, when Philip went from S. Hie∣roms to Vallicella, the same man having four Ne∣phews, Orphans, was solicitous to keep them from conversing with the Jews, that so being instruct∣ed in the mysteries of religion, they might be train∣ed up in the faith of Christ: these therefore, their affectionate Ʋncle commits to Philip, who loving∣ly and friendly, as his manner was, received them, but said nothing of religion. A while after he bid them pray unto the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Ja∣cob, to enlighten their minds with the beams of his truth, promising the next day at Mass to set upon God by violence. And though the young men, who had bin oft assaulted by arguments and exhortations, con∣tinued * 1.5 unshaken, it was observed at the time Philip said Mass, they inclned to imbrace the Christian faith; whereupon those, who were there the day before, and heard what Philip said, namely, That he would offer violence to God, remembred his words.

Meanwhile that the lads where learning the principles of Religion at Vallicella, one of them fell into a fever, and the sixth day the disease being at the highest, the Fathers fearing he would dye, consulted about baptizing him; but toward Even∣ing

Philip came to see him, and lightly stroaking his forehead and brest, My son I should be sorry, said he, you should dye of this sickness; for the Jews would give out, the Christians had bin the cause of your death: therefore to morrow before dinner s••nd to put me in minde, that at Mass I pray to our Lord for you. Which when Peter Consolinus, Philips chief favorite, heard, he told the youth, Son you will recover this sickness; for this good man hath by his prayers to God restored di∣vers to health. That night he had a shrewd fit, and the Physitian that had the cure of him, sent to his Ʋncle to make all hast if he meant to see his Ne∣phew alive; but when the hour for Mass came, Consolinus asked the young man if he should minde Philip, as was agreed; who was willing. When lo! scarce had the H. man done Mass but the young man rose up perfectly well, and sat upon his bed, and his Ʋncle coming found him rid of his fever. After dinner when the Physitian came and felt his pulse, as his manner was, crossing himself at the strangeness thereof he cryed out, have ye Physitians at home, and do ye fetch them from abroad? at even∣ing came Philip again to see him, and told him, Truely son you had died, but that your Mother might not impute the cause of your death to us, I have ob∣tained of our Lord your recovery by prayer. Where∣upon as soon as he was throughly well, some two moneths after, hoth he and his Brothers, to the great joy of the devout old man, were baptized by Pope Clement the eight in the Lateran Church, on the feast of the Apostles, S. S. Simon and Jude.

But because they as heartily desired the conver∣sion of their Mother, they never left importuning their superiours, till they got her placed with a Lady of great quality: and asking Philip still, what

hopes were of her; the good man answered, She shall not yet embrace the faith of Christ; nor is it now so expedient: but it shall fall out more seasonably both for you and her. And so it was; for, about six years after, she and others to the number of 24. were baptized together.

He gathered into the bosome of the Church many heretiques also; whose names are purposely omit∣ted. Yet how he caused one Palaeologus to renounce his heresy, may not be passed over in silence. He was kept as an Arch-heretique in the Inquisition, and, persisting obstinately after all ways used, was con∣demned to be burnt. As he was led to execution, Philip then living at S. Hieroms, being acquainted therewith, forthwith runs and meets him, leaping into the crowd; and making his way resolutly through the guard, when clasping about the con∣demned person, he friendly counsels him to re∣tract his error. When they came to the stake, Phi∣lip (by the authority God vouchafed him at that time with them) bid the officers stay: they did so: meanwhile Philip in few words, yet such as had their weight from heaven, perswaded this errant to the acknowledging of the truth: willing him to get upon a form and there publikely dis∣claim his heresy, who heartily did abjure and de∣test his impious opinions in the view of all the peo∣ple. At last Philip prevailed so far, that he was brought back to prison, where to mollify the minde of this penitent, he procured him of Grego∣ry the thirteenth a very liberall gratuity, besides what the Masters of the Inquisition allowed him for diet: and that he might not relapse from his good resolutions, visited him every day, treating with him only about matters of religion. And for the

subduing and curbing in him the spirit of arrogance and pride, wherewith hereticall minds use to be possessed, he gave him the lives of S. John Columbi∣nus and Jacoponius to read, saying, that this sort of men are easilier won by the example of holy men, and their innocent behaviour, than subtilties or dis∣putes: so that Palaeologus was sorry he had not light on Philip before, and bin acquainted with him. Yet he lasted not long in this good minde, which Philip foretold in these words: This mans conversion doth not altogether like me: yet by his prayers and tears he obtained of God his returne and repen∣tance: but at length relapsing again he was put to death, not without signes of hearty contrition; Caesar Baronius and John Francis Bordinus at the in∣stance of Philip affording their assistance for setling his minde in the faith being then at the brink of death.

CHAP. XIII. He puts Baronius upon writing his Annals.

THis so vehement zeal of propagating the faith would not be confined to the limits of Rome, but diffused it self far and wide unto the most distant quarters of the Christian world. For perceiving that in some Northerne countries the enemies of the Catholique faith daily broached new and infecti∣ous doctrines, he, on the contrary pitying the great ruine of Souls, resolved to oppose himself. Thereupon by speciall directions of the spirit of God he enjoyned, that in the Oratory (of which anon) one of his Scholars as oft as he preached,

should bring down the Ecclesiasticall story in order, from the Incarnation of Christ; that so, the begin∣ning, truth, and progress of the universall Church exposed to open view, and the craft and cheats of hereticks discovered, neither the Ignorant might be led into error, nor the Learned pretend any excuse.

For this task he made choice of Caesar Baronius of Sora, Doctor in either Law, a man renowned for sacred story, and noted for good life, who being but a private person was so liberall a benefactor to the poor, that he bestowed all his houshould-stuff, to a silver cabinet of a good value, and of much e∣steem with him, yea his very apparell toward their maintenance: and so great a despiser of ho∣nours that he tore his priviledge of Doctor, meerly in contempt of himself. Him therefore the H. Fa∣ther designed for publishing the History of the Church so oft recited in the Oratory, having well digest∣ed it into Method: a labour, which being begun out of obedience, and after vast pains and contin∣uall watchings perfected, came happily forth.

Which so noble and admirable work is to be as∣cribed rather to Philip than Baronius, as in his pre∣face on the eighth Tome he hath left upon record, for the clearing of which, his own words are set down at the end of this treatise. Adde hereunto, that Philip himself a little before he died, calling Baronius to him, said, Think but meanly of thy self, Caesar, for these works are not the issue of thy pains and studie; but a gift of the Divine Bounty rather: when repeating the same again and again, True Fa∣ther, replied Baronius, for whatever is in them is all next God owing to your prayers.

The same is confirmed by a vision from heaven,

which appeared to him not long before he set about the compiling his Ecclesiastical History. For when first he began to preach in the Oratory, he used to thunder out the terrors of de ath and hell: which after he had a while practised, Philip by direction of the H. Ghost, foreseeing that, if he changed the subject of his discourse, it would prove more be∣neficiall both to himself and others, advised him to apply himself to the composing his Ecclesiastique story, and leave preaching death and hell: at that time Baronius did not oppose, but his genius carry∣ing him the other way, afterward neglected his ad∣monition: so that Philip by vertue of his authority commanded him speedily to go about the task he had set him. Which his injunctions Baronius thought hard, and urged thereto one while by the vertue of obedience, another while discouraged by the reluctancy of his nature, he was extreamly troubled, but the Good Lord to allay these tempests in him, thus made known his minde to him.

As he was asleep one night, he thought he was di∣scoursing with Onuphrius Panuinus, who also ap∣plied himself to Ecclesiasticall history, when being very pensive, and intimating what Philip had im∣posed upon him, he desires him not to refuse the finishing such a work: and as he heaped up argu∣ments to perswade his friend, on the sudden he hears Philips voice saying yield Caesar, now yield, and stand out no longer, for that the Ecclesiasticall history must be written by you, not by Panuinus. At which Baronius awaked, and perceiving it to be the Divine will, immediatly resolves to run through the Church Annals in the Oratory: which when he had brought along from Christs, we near to his own times, Philip enjoyned him to rehearse them

once or twice from the beginning to the end: so that in the space of thirty years (as in the preface mentioned he affirms) he went over in publique, the whole story from the beginning seven times, ere he printed the first Tome; and at last put forth the whole work divided into twelve Tomes. For this his great service to the Church he was by Pope Cle∣ment the eightth advanced to the dignity of a Car∣dinal; which eminency with what unwillingness and regret he received, is there recorded by him; besides his refusing before that three wealthy Bi∣shopricks. So, worn away with continuall study and long weakness, living in hi•• Tusculan retire∣ment, when he found his end approaching, Let us go to Rome saith he, for it beseems not a Cardinall to dye in the Country. Being brought therefore to the City in a Litter, his sickness increasing, he died the last of June 1608. In the 69^th. year of his age (which number he had with his pen marked in many pages of his books; as being prescribed for the term of his life) in a house neer the Oratory, not far from S. Philips Chappel, the Fathers of the Congregation being present; and was buried with great concourse of people.

For the same cause, to wit the refuting obstinate hereticks fondly rejecting the worshipping of saints, Philip enjoyned him to annex some Annotations to the Roman Martyrology. And for this reason also Thomas Bozzius of Eugubium, and Anthony Gallo∣ni••s of Rome, both Priests of the Congregation, pub∣lished their writings with great commendation and liking; the first, of the marks of the Church of God, the other of the Lives of the Saints.

CHAP. XIV. The Foundation of the Oratory.

SEing therefore Philip determined to bestow his pains at Rome, in winning souls to God, and the number of penitents daily encreased, that the place though large could not hold them: in the year 1558. He obtained of the deputies for the chief convent of S. Hierom, that part of the Church, which lies on the right side of the Chancel above the body of the Church; where he erected the Oratory, whither he removed the Conference held before in his Chamber.

That Oratory is yet to be seen, but more sump∣tuously and neatly built; to which the R. R. Fa∣thers daily resort to prayer, and on Holy-days preach to the great benefit of souls.

Hither therefore did Phiiip with his Sons retire every afternoon to their Spirituall exercises; which ended, he would lead them, on worky days to some open place of the City or Suburbs; on festivals to some Church or other: and hence came the cu∣stome of having the daily repast of the word of God, and that familiar way of preaching instituted by the H. Father.

But these beginnings of the Infant Oratory none better can delineate, then he who knew them so exactly, and described them so copiously, Baro∣nius. For in the first Tome of his Annals, treating of holy meetings, such as the Apostle mentions to the Corinthians.

Certainly by the Divine wis∣dome, saith he, was it brought to passe, that in our times, thirty years since, by means chiefly

of the R. Father Philip Nerius a Florentine, who as a wise Master-builder laid the foundation; and of his disciple the R. Father Francis Maria Tau∣rusius Politianus, who amongst them seemed the Chieftain of the Preachers, Assemblies were insti∣tuted in the City, much what after the form of those Apostolical conventions, such especially as by the Apostle were appointed for the discoursing of divine matters, both for edifying the hearers, and for propagating the Church. By the care therefore and industry of these was it first agreed on, that the Zealous Christians should meet a∣dayes at S. Hieroms Oratory (for from it came the name of the Congregation of the Oratory) and there a religious meeting should be held after this manner. First silence being made, they be∣gan with prayer, and one of the Brothers reads some pious lesson. At the reading of which the Father used to interpose upon occasion, explain∣ing more fully, enlarging, and vehemently in∣culcating upon the minds of the Auditors, the things read: continuing his discourse sometimes a whole hour (with great satisfaction to the hearers) dialogue-wise▪ asking some of the com∣pany their opinions of such a thing. Afterward by his appointment one of them went up into the desk raised upon steps, and made an Oration, without flourishes or varnish of Language, com∣posed out of the approved and choice lives of Saints, Sacred writ, and sentences of the H. Fa∣thers. He that succeeded him discoursed after the same manner, but on a differing matter. Then followed a third, who related some part of the Church-story in the order of its severall ages. E∣very of these had his half-hour allotted him, and

performed all with marvailous delight and ap∣probation: then, singing some Hymn, and go∣ing to prayers again the company broak up. All things thus ordered, and ratified by the Pope, as far as the times would suffer, that beautifull face of the Primitive Apostolicall assembling seemed to be revived again; whereat all good men re∣joycing, and many taking their modell from them, the like exercises of piety were set up and practi∣sed in other places.

Thus far Baronius to shew the rise and originall of the Oratory.

To these daily duties he added others to be per∣formed on Holy days. First he enjoyned them to confess duly, and spend some time in prayer be∣fore they went to Mass; after that to receive the Sacrament. Then he sent them severally to divers Infirmaries, some to S. John Laterans Hospitall, some to S. Maries de Consolatione, others to Santo Spirito in Saxia, where they did each of them to their power help the sick both by word and deed. Some of them vertuous above the rest (in number about thirty or forty) to the singular example of piety to the beholders, went every day to perform these offices of charity.

Besides some of them every Saturday evening, and on Holiday eves came to Philip, whom he took with him by night from S. Hieroms, to the Churches ei∣ther of S. Maria supra Minervam, or S. Bonaven∣ture on Mount Quirinall, (for then a Covent of Capuchin•• dwelt there) where they went to Mat∣tens with the Friers in the Quire, and spent all the night in prayer and meditation, that so in the morning they might receive the B. Sacrament with greater gusts and relishes of devotion. The number of them was sometimes so great, that you should see

the Quires of the Regulars and Religious filled with secular and Lay persons. Philip for divers years used almost every night to frequent those Church∣es, whom, upon a signall that was betwixt them, the Porter let in; and the Dominicans freely granted him the keys of their Monastery, to come in at plea∣sure.

But not content with these works of piety (there∣by to withdraw his Sons especially the younger, from the occasions of sin) he was wont at certain times of the year, as Shrovetide and after Easter, to go with them to the seven Churches of the City, though now those of the Oratory visit them at shrove∣tide only. At first very few went, five and twenty or thirty at most; but the company soon encreased, that even in Philips life time there went oftimes no less then two thousand of them together. All were admitted of what rank so ever, except women: very many of the Regulars came, especially of the Orders of the Capuchins and Dominicans, from whom there flocked thither whole troops of Noviees.

The manner of their journey was thus. On the day appointed they all came single, or in companies to S. Peters in the Vatican, or the Cathedral of S. Paul without the walls, where putting themselves into ranks, they went forward to the other Chur∣ches: as they passed they spent part of the time in meditation on some set subject out of the sacred mi∣steries (the multitude being distributed into Classes, unto every of which a Priest was assigned) the rest of the time was taken up in singing Hymns, Psalms, Spirituall songs, and Letanies, the Musiques attend∣ing them: if any of the day remained over, they conferred of religious matters.

In every Church, except those two mentioned,

one of their own, or some other made a short ser∣mon to the people: but when they came to S. Se∣bastians or S. Stevens Church, Mass was celebrated with all solemnity, where all of them well nigh received the Sacrament. Thence they went to the gardens of the Maximi or Cresscentii, and some∣times to those of the Matthaei in Mount Caelius (yet at this day they (with their permission) visit those only of the Matthaei) in which every one sitting in his order, a table was furnished with bread and wine sufficient, and an egg, a piece of cheese, with an apple added thereto. At dinner the Singers entred singing and playing to some holy Antheme: when table was taken away, they went to the other Churches; and so home, every one greatly re∣joycing.

These religious processions were wholly govern∣ed by Philip, who took such pains therein, that by overmuch wearying himself he sometimes fell into a fever, but in his latter years, both by reason of age, and because the Institution was already suffici∣ently setled, he staid at home and performed other pious duties.

How pleasing a work unto God that was, though it appeared not by down-right miracles, yet was no∣tably declared by sundry divine intimations. Once as his manner was, he went about Carnevall-time to these Churches, and in the way from S. Pauls to S. Sebastians arose on the suddain so great a tem∣pest, that all thought of betaking them to their heels; but Philip bade them, Stay and be confident for I will warrant,-none that goes with me shall suffer much by this storme.

These devout usages so piously introduced by the R. Father were commended by divers reputed

both for gravity and learning: among which John Rubeus in his book dedicated to Philip honours them with these elogies.

Among other right famous things (saith he, bespeaking the H. man) which I beheld the last year, being 1568 in Rome; it most pleased me to see the Oratory of S. Hierom a Charitate thronged with such a multitude of devout persons: which reflecting more seriously on, I reckoned to be the goodliest and noblest of all the rarities in the City. And so much the more I both wondred and rejoyced, for that I saw Personages of the best rank, and of severall nations attend so chear∣fully to the word of God, dispenced with that sim∣plicity and integrity by You. Whence it falls out that almost infinite numbers of people abju∣ring the world, as the whole City can witness, consult of giving themselves up to Christ, where devoting themselves to the Cloysters of the Reli∣gious, and other Holy Orders, they stedfastly per∣sist in their vowed sanctity.

Thus Rubeus.

CHAP. XV. He undertakes the charge of a Church of the Florentines.

NOw some of the chief Florentines duly weigh∣ing the abundant advantages that accrued to many by the above mentioned exercise, as like∣wise with what diligence and discretion Philip go∣verned his society, they endeavoured might and main to get him to undertake the government and care of S. Johns Church among them. To which

purpose in the year 1564. they sent some to request him in the name of them all to accept of the employment, and to tender him a dwelling with all requisites: His answer was, that he must consider of it and make his prayers to God; and if he found it to be Gods will, he would soon satisfie their desires. Within a few days when they came again he told them plainly, he could by no means leave S. Hieroms, where he had resided so long. At which answer, Bernardine Cyril at that time Master of the Hospitall of the H. Ghost in Saxia, and John Baptist Altovitus with Peter Antonio Bandinus, who were employed in the business, repair to Pope Pius the fourth, entreating him to make use of his authori∣ty therein; whom having assured to them, they returne, and acquaint Philip that the Popes minde was, he should govern that Church: when, with all submission to Christs Vicar he accepted of it; but on condition, that he should not be compelled to leave S. Hieroms, which was grant∣ed him.

Meanwhile he caused three of his to take Orders; the first was Caesar Baronius; the second John Fran∣cis Bordinus; an eloquent Roman, afterwards made Bishop of Cavaillon by Clement the eighth, then Arch-Bishop of Avignon; the third Alexander Fidelius of Transona, one of great integrity and purity. These Philip transplanted to the Floren∣tines Church, alloting to some others the care of the Parish; of whom was Germanicus Fidelius Ne∣phew to Alexander; a Youth of 16. years of age.

Not long after were added to them Francis Ma∣ria Taurusius, with Angelus Vellius of Praeneste of an unblemished and even Angelicall life, who was the third Prefect of the Congregation after Philip: and

being fourscore and five years old died in peace the tenth of December, after he had seen the solemn Canonization of the R. Father.

These excellent men with great zeal and courage began to cultivate the Lords Vineyard; for betimes in the Morning every day they went from S. Johns to S. Hieroms Church to confess their sins; after dinner, thither they returned, either to preach, or hear sermons; in the evening again they came to their usuall prayers, never omitting these wont ed exercises either for Summers heat, or Winters cold, for wind or rain. For matters in the house, they were certain years their own Cooks, every one in his week: and that so willingly and conten∣tedly, that Baronius left written over the Chimny∣piece, Caesar Baronius Cocus perpetuus: Caesar Baro∣nius everlasting Cook: and oftimes Noble men and Scholers, found him with his apron on, washing dishes. At meals they used reading, which lasted two parts of dinner or supper: they read the Bi∣ble, or some devout Author; which done, one of them propounded a question either of morality or Divinity to go round. Germanic••s Fidelius and Octavius Paravicinus both of an age, were readers together at the table, the latter of which for his rare merits was made Cardinall by Clement the eighth. Every Saturday they swept the Church: on Holy daies some were employed in taking Con∣fessions, others in giving the Sacrament.

Mass was also solemnly celebrated; which ended, Baronius and Bordinus, at the suit of the Florentines, with Philips consent, preached publikly by turns. At the usuall hour Vespers were sung in the Church, after which they either met the B. Father at S. Ma∣ry's supra Minervam, or S. Mary's ad Martyres, or

where else he appointed; and there Philip or some other propounding some pious subject or theme, sometimes one, sometimes another, answerd at the pleasure of the Father, so passing the time in di∣vine conferences, and spirituall exercises.

Hence grew a custome after Easter day of going to that part of the Janiculum, where S. Onuphrius's Monastery stood; a place open to the Sun, and pleasant for its overlooking the City lying beneath: yet as the heat of the weather increased, they re∣sorted to some selected Church to perform these services. Where after the melody of voyces, a little Boy makes a pious Oration to the Auditors, got by heart, and straight two of the Priests of the Oratory (the Musiques at whiles interposing) make some short discourse to the people. But in winter viz. from the first of November to Easter, they be∣gun about evening in a small Oratory with mentall prayer, singing the Letanies and the Antheme of the B. Virgin; then a Boy, as before, repeats a de∣vout exhortation, after which one of the Society preaches for half an hour, with Musiques before, and after.

These first Fathers kept up this custome of going thrice a day from S. John to S. Hieroms ten years. Which is therefore mentioned particularly in this place, that posterity might take notice with what sanctity and humility these men served God, who both for their literature, and noble extract, were so generally known to deserve the chiefest promoti∣ons the Church of Rome had to bestow.

Ten years had now passed, when the Florentines observing the many and great inconveniences those Priests sustained, requested Philip, that the service in use at S. Hieroms Oratory might be transferred

to S. Johns, He assented. So in the year 1574. on the fifteenth of April in S. Johns Oratory enlarged for that purpose the Fathers began their accustomed familiar sermons. In such wise that Juvenall An∣cina afterward Priest of the Oratory, then Bishop of Saluciae, a holy man (about annexing whom to the Catalogue of Saints, writings were drawn by A∣postolical authority, and his course of life and ver∣tuous deeds of late years writ) much conversant in those duties, and taken with Philips piety, and Institution, writes thus in a certain letter to Frier John Mattheo living at Fossanum.

Some days ago (this was in 1576) I used to frequent the Florentines Oratory dedicated to S. John, where every day were sermons made by 4 or 5 concerning vice and vertue, Ecclesiastical History, or the lives of Saints exceeding profita∣ble. Hither come Persons of honour; Nobles, Pre∣lates, Bishops, &c▪ Sermon ended, they adde some harmonious Airs to recreate the Auditors. A while since they very excellently and lively ex∣emplified the actions of S. Francis, and S. Anto∣ny of Padua: and the truth is, the hearers re∣ceive much spirituall comfort and content by the explication of such stories: and I am sorry, that I heard no sooner of those wholsome and lauda∣ble exercises. Their Preachers are the choicest men, such as are in H. Orders, and reputed for holiness and vertue. Their Chief and Gover∣nour is a Venerable Priest named Philip, of sixty years of age, one eminent in many respects, principally for his holy life, prudence, and sin∣gular dexterity both in contriving and promo∣ting such religious performances. He is reported to be the Author of that famous custome, which

we beheld last Jubile practised with so great de∣votion and charity at the Church of the Most H. Trinity, which hath its name from Pilgrims: withall, the Fathers Toletus, Possevinus, and di∣vers others highly honour him: lastly, sundry per∣sons have recourse to him as an Oracle, not from the City only, but out of Italy, France, and Spain, and other remote Provinces.

So Juvenal. By which may be gathered in what reputation the Institution of the Oratory then flourished.

CHAP. XVI The Persecutions and affronts he suffered.

YEt, to take our rise a little higher, these reli∣gious usages, which should rather have gain∣ed him respect and love with all, did to some for∣lorn miscreants administer matter of spite and ca∣lumny. For, when at first he held discourses of Spirituall things in his chamber, every day after dinner; and applyed himself to hear Confessions, many that maligned him began privately to whisper and in time openly decry him, prating what came next. The Ringleader of them was Vincentius Tec∣cosius of Fabrianum, a Physitian, one of the four De∣puty-Governours of the place, to whom gathered two Apostates, that lived there disguised under a reli∣gious habit; these at Teccosius's instigation used all means to drive Philip thence. For being Sacrists by place, as soon as they saw him coming to the Vestry, they would shut the door against him, deny him the Vestments, or bring him such as were torn, sometimes take the Chalice or Missall out of his

hands, or hide them; otherwhiles make him pull off the H. garments being vested, and go from one Altar to another to and fro; as soon as ever he was gone forth of the Vestry to say Mass, call him back again; by these injuries and provocations to make him leave S. Hieroms.

All these disgraces the servant of Christ took no notice of, but carrying himself courteously to them both in word and deed prayed to God for them every day: and being desired by some of his own to remove somewhither else: Not so, replyed he, I will not seem to shun the cross God hath allotted me here. And still the milder he, the more insolent they; though he strove, as for his life to soften their perversness. Till, seeing he availed nothing he flies to him that helps his servants destitute of all humane assistances; and as he was saying Mass one time, looking on the Crucifix, he thus bespake his saviour: Why not, O good Jesu, why dost thou not hear me? so long, yea so ardently have I impor∣tuned thee for the vertue of patience: why, I beseech thee, dost not thou favour my petition? Immediatly he hears a voice saying within him: Didst thou not beg the grace of patience; know, thou shalt obtain it, but through injuries and affronts. Animated there∣fore with this reply, he ever after more patiently and contentedly endured reproaches: so that, they who offered wrongs were sooner wearied, then he that suffered them. And thenceforward, when at any time he was reviled, he would either contemn the offence, or excuse the offender.

Some two years after, one of these Apostates set upon Philip one day, railing and inveighing a∣gainst him with such inveterate malice and rancour, that the other who was by, pittying the good man

flew with so great violence upon his fellow, catch∣ing him by the throat, that, but for Philip he had throtled him. Whereupon considering how villa∣nously he himself also had dealt by him, and re∣membring his former Religious vows made, he dis∣closes the whole business in order to the H. man; and by his directions betook him to a Regular life again, always after crying up the Sanctity of Philip.

Nay Vincentius Teccosius himself was overcome and vanquished by the patience of Philip, craving his pardon before divers, and surrending him∣self up to the servant of God; whom chusing for his Confessor, he so dearly affected, that there passed not a day, wherein he came not in courte∣sy to see him.

Yet was not all malice against him thus extin∣guished, all calumnies laid asleep; nay he was af∣terward worse abused by other profane persons. For they objected, that it was out of pride, that he went to the 7 Churches, with such sholes of peo∣ple; that it suted not with one, who despised the vanity of the world, by gathering multitudes to turne the eyes of the whole City on himself. O∣thers looking onely on the summs of mony spent then in victualls, not regarding the number of per∣sons, ascribed all to revellings and gluttony. The Politici••ns blamed him with pretensions of care unto publike peace; for that so great a confluence would occasion uproars and tumults. All which was told Philip again, who took it patiently with∣out any disturbance.

The bruit hereof increased daily, till it came at last to the Prelate that was Deputy of the City, who, moved by the reports of them that bore a spleen to Philip, sent for him, and reprehends him sharp∣ly:

Is it not a shame, saith he, that you who profess a contempt of the world, should hunt for popular ap∣plause, and walk thorow the City guarded with troops, with such nets as these fishing for Church preferments? When having shrewdly taunted him with such like expressions, he prohibits him the hearing Confessions for fifteen dayes; and to use the customes of the Ora∣tory, but by leave first obtained; or to lead about with him any companies of men; threatning impri∣sonment upon his disobedience. Neither would he let him depart, till he had put in security for his ap∣pearance. Philip with a pleasing and ••omposed coun∣tenance answered; That as he had begun all things, which he had instituted, with the glory of God, so like∣wise was he ready to desist from all, for the same glory of God, that he ever should prefer his Superiors directions before his own desires: that he had taken up that usage of visiting the Churches, out of no other end, but to divert his from those dangers of sinning, which at such times as Shrovetide, use to be most rife. The Deputie replyed, Come you do all this, not for the glory of God, but to make a party for your self. At which, Philip wistly eying the Crucifix that stood there, said, Lord thou knowest whether I do it to make me a party; and so went his way. But be∣cause he highly prized the vertue of obedience, es∣pecially to his Superiors, he presently forbade his sons to come to him at all.

Meantime, while the good man was commending himself to God, having intreated divers Religi∣ous persons to be instant in prayer about this busi∣ness: one day on the sudden appeared a Priest in a rough garment tied about with a rope, neither known by face, or seen ever before or after that day, who said, I am sent to bid you expose the H.

body of our Lord, for the people to adore, with the solemn supplication of the forty hours, by the Sove∣raigne patronage whereof all persecutions shall be cha∣sed away, for so it was revealed from heaven to cer∣tain servants of God. Then coming to Francis Ma∣ria Taurusius he whispers in his ear these words; This trouble shall be quickly over, and the work that is begun be more strongly confirmed; they who resist now, shall assist hereafter; and if any one shall dare to oppose it any longer, God shall speedily avenge it on him: the Prelate that is your chiefest adversary shall certainly dye within fifteen days: this said, he va∣nished out of sight. And it fell out precisely as was foretold: for the Prelate (the Popes Deputie) rela∣ing the proceedings to his Holiness somwhat parti∣ally dyed suddenly; which coming to Philips knowledge, he pittying his sad end would never let any of his utter so much as a word to his dis∣paragement.

For it became the servant of Christ to arme him∣self with no other weapons, against what he stood charged with before his Superiours, save the shield of his own innocency. Giving himself therefore more to prayer, he oft told his Sons, This storm a∣rose for my sake; not yours, that by this means I might be taught the vertues of humility and obedience; and when I have received the good which God intends me by them, these slanders questionless will have an end.

But when Pope Paul the fourth heard the whole cause, and evidently discovered Philips integrity, he sent him, as a token of his good affection, two wax tapers, of those that use to be light up in the Popes Chappel on Candlemas day: letting him know that he not only granted him free leave to visit the seven Churches, but to exercise all the duties

belonging to his institution: and that it was his unhappiness, that he could not be present at those religious performances. At which his sons were o∣verjoy'd, and a while after went with the B. Fa∣ther (as they were wont) to the 7 Churches, to render thanks to the Divine goodness, that the tempest now blown over, they might freely observe the Orders of the Oratory.

No sooner was this blaze of persecution out, but a much fiercer was kindled against the Order; for, under pretext of piety and Religion, some possessed Pius Quintus of B. Memory, that the preachers of S. Hieroms many times delivered things ridiculous or unsound; which argued either high indiscretion or Ignorance, and must needs endanger their hearers.

Hereupon Pius like a faithfull and Vigilant Pa∣stor culls out two Dominicans, and severally enjoyns either of them to go to S. Hieroms, and mark exact∣ly what was said or done, and to bring him word, if there were any thing repugnant to faith or good manners.

While these religious persons were busy about the Popes commands, the Pope himself tels Alexan∣der Medices, Ambassadour for the great Duke of Tuscany, that he had heard, how the Fathers, Prea∣chers at S. Hieroms had unwisely or unwarily let some things slip them; particularly, out of the A••ts of S. Apollonia, that she voluntarily flung her self into the fire, without adding, that shee had done it, by speciall impulse of the H. Ghost. Alexander dismissed by the Pope goes to S. Mary's su∣pra Minervam to hear a sermon, where Germanicus Fidelius meets him, and intreats him from Philip he would vouchsase to visit him as soon as might be,

for he would fain speak with him; praying his ex∣cuse, being so lame on one of his feet that he could not stir out of bed. After dinner he goes to Philip, but first to sermon; where came up Francis Maria Taurusius, who so handsomely interpreted that action of Appollonia, with its due caution and such facility, that he untied the knots of all those dif∣ficulties which the Pope had communicated to Alex∣ander. Sermon ended, the Ambassadour went to Philip, who immediatly questioned him, what passed betwixt the Pope and him, that morning, about the affairs of the Oratory. He astonished which way he came to know any thing of it ingenu∣ously confessed all to him.

But those Religious men, the Pope sent to the Oratory, after a strict view of all that was done there, acquainted his Holiness, they heard no∣thing but what consisted well with piety and Learn∣ing; He rejoycing exceedingly, that there were even in his days men at Rome, that so profitably dispensed the word of God dayly to the people; and thence forward both Philip and his Sons were in such favour with him, that he joyned Taurusius in commission with his Nephew the Cardinall of A∣lexandria, going Embassadour to the King of Spain, France, and Portugall, giving him instructions at large of all that was to be treated of.

Moreover those Dominican Fathers so esteemed of the Order after that, as for divers years they came almost every day to the sermons, and oftimes preached there themselves: as also the most emi∣nent preachers of other Orders ever and anon used to do.

CHAP. XVII. The Congregation of the Oratory erected at Vallicella.

BUt though Philip, thinking ever meanly of himself, never dreamt, as he said, of institu∣ting the Congregation, yet at last, his sons earnest∣ly importuning him to it, he gave way: but to the establishing such a work, they thought it most imported, to purchase a seat of their own, where they might lay the foundation of the Congregation, and execute their own laws and statutes.

As the H. Man was musing thereon, two Churches very fit for that purpose were propounded to him; S. Mary's on Monticellae, and S. Mary's in Vallicellae and being in suspence, which to make choice of (the better to understand the mind of God in a business of that concernment) he determined to refer the matter to Pope Gregory the thirteenth to be decided; who wished him to chuse the Vallicel∣lan, as being in a place of great resort, and fitter for service. He perceiving it to be Gods will, pre∣sently cast about to procure it, committing unto Taurusius the managing thereof, who obtained of the Pope not the Church alone, but what ever else the Fathers could desire. So this servant of Christ, back'd with the Authority Apostolique, instituted at Vallicella the Congregation of secular Priests, which he entitled of the Oratory; and got liberty for framing Statutes and Constitutions, but with pro∣viso, that after a certain time they should be ra∣tified by the See Apostolique.

Having possession of this Church, he appoints

over it, Germanicus Fidelius and John Antony Luccius, men of known integrity: but because it was too nar∣row and something ruinous, they thought of bring∣ing it to some better form; they were desirous in∣deed to rebuild it from the foundation; but their mony being short they waved that. When sud∣denly one day, betimes in the morning Philip by divine inspiration commands the old Church to be utterly rased, and a new one raised in the form and bigness as we see at this day.

So the old Church being levelled with the ground, as Mathew of Tifernum that famous Archi∣tect in those days, was casting with his line the breadth of the new Church, Philip, then about to say Mass at S. Hieroms, sends a messenger to bid him let all alone till he came. When Mass was over, he dispatches for Vallicella; and as they were con∣cluding on the latitude, he bids lengthen out the line further; Matthew doth so; he bids enlarge it more; he obeys him again; the B. man consider∣ing still the place was to narrow commands a third time to extend the line further yet. As soon as he came to the place that had been revealed to Philip; Here stay, faith he, here break up the earth. And as they were digging they light upon a hard wall, old and hid under rubbish, on the right side of the Chancell, some ten handfulls broad, and longer than the Church; besides a huge pile of stone and brick, enough for the foundation, and for raising the wall on the right side. So on the 19 of Septemb. 1575. the first stone consecrated with solemn rites was laid by Alex. Medices, Archbishop of Florence, Cardinal of the H. Church of Rome, who after trans∣lated to the Popedome was named Leo the XI.

As the building went up their enemies raged still

worse, hindering the workmen, slandering the so∣ciety; with cross-bows and stones pelting John Antony Luccius Overseer of the work: but alas! seven Brothers there were that opposed the business mainly, who died all within two years through the Divine vengeance.

The Church now almost finished, in the year 1577. the third of February, on which day fel Sep∣tuagesima Sunday, the same Alexander Medices sang Mass publikely, and the Fathers performed divine duties there, and to enhance their begin∣nings with the greater devotion, the Pope granted a plenary indulgence to those who confessing their sins, and receiving the H. Eucharist were present at Mass, or visited the Church at all that day. And the same year in April quitting the Church of the Florentines, they removed their usuall sermons to Vallicella; Philip still tarrying at S. Hieroms.

But because the house was not big enough, the Fathers advised about buying a Monastery that joy∣ned to the Church; for that the Nuns of the place, by command of their Superiors, were to remove to another Monastery of the Recluses: Philip looking farther then the rest, no way liked their counsell of buying it. Yet some of them attempted it on grounds of naturall prudence, but the business not succeeding, saith Philip, Did not I often tell you, this Monastery was not for our turns? ye shall indeed obtain a Monastery, but another way than ye dream of. He said true; for five moneths after Peter Donatus Cae∣sius Cardinal, out of his great munificence bought that and other adjoyning houses which he frankly bestowed on the Fathers to dwell in.

The wonderfull confidence in God which Philip had for his atchieving this enterprise, may be con∣cluded

from hence, that when there was no stock he adventured on so costly a structure, and com∣pleated it in two years: oft saying when his money was spent, God will supply us; and coming some∣times to a prime Lady in Rome he would tell her, Madam, you must know the B. Virgin and my self have made a bargain, that I shall not dye till the Church be covered. Many therefore imagined that, seeing he never craved of any, and yet day∣ly disbursed such a deal of Money, either God furnished him, or miraculously increased his store.

The first monies laid out in beginning the work were 200 crowns, given by the bounty of S. Carlo Borromeo; whereto Gregory the XIII. added 8000. and above, for the building and beautifying the forepart of the Church; besides 4000. for erecting a Chappell in memory of the Presentation of our Lady: likewise Cardinal Frederic Borromeo gave 4000. and the rest, amounting to above a hundred thousand crowns, God other wayes provided.

And to shew that he never asked any ones bene∣volence, it is not amiss to adde this which followes. One of the Congregation, who had to do with the building, on a time told him, Father, the mony is spent, and yet the walls reach not to the roof: Doubt not, saith he, God will never be wanting to his Children. He replies; There is a rich man in the City that useth to distribute a large part of his revenues to pious uses, if he were acquainted with our wants, he would happily help us with a good summ; at which Philip; The man knows in what need the building is, if he be minded he may freely contribute, for hitherto I have asked none, and yet have found no lack of any thing: and so it fell out, that within a few moneths a noted Lawer dying

bequeathed to the Congregation 4000 crowns, and more; and soon after another Lawyer died, and left 8000 by Will.

CHAP. XVIII. Philip removes to Vallicella.

THings thus setled, Philip, though he governed the whole Congregation, yet would not quit S. Hieroms: for which he gave many reasons; chiefly, that he might not be called Founder of the Congregation, a title which he ever disclaimed. Be∣sides, lest he might seem to shun the Cross, which in love to him God there offered; and that he might lose the benefit of his so long perseverance in that place and duty, having lived there three and thirty years.

But the Fathers, considering how much it im∣ported to have a head to their body, and seeing all means of changing Philips minde ineffective, repair to Cardinal Peter Donatus Caesius, and beseech him that he would impart the matter to his Holiness, and by Authority from Him procure, what they neither of themselves, nor by others could obtain. Caesius very readily undertakes it, certifying Pope Gregory XIII. of the Fathers request: who assenting to it, forthwith enjoyns the Cardinal to tell Philip from him, that he must to Vallicella. As soon as Philip understood the Popes pleasure, bowing his head, without dispute he presently obeyes. And in the year 1583. on the 22^d. of November, being the Anniversary of S. Cecilia Virgin and Martyr, to the incredible joy of his, he went from S. Hieroms

to Vallicella: but though he shifted his station, he held the old course of life, he had prescribed him∣self at S. Hieroms: and that he might the better attend on the contemplation of things celestial, he chose him a chamber in the higher and privater part of the house.

The day he went to Vallicella, that he might in∣ure himself and his to the mastering their inclinati∣ons, he commanded that they should carry, openly as they went in the streets, all their houshold stuff, either on their shoulders, or in their hands. And he was so in love with S. Hieroms his whole life after, that he alwayes kept the keyes of his chamber by him, and himself went often, or sent some of his to see it, he was so pleased with the remembrance of his old dwelling.

CHAP. XIX. The Rules of the Oratory.

AS soon as Philip was come amongst his Sons, with joint consent of the whole Congregation, they chose him Provost: a place he was most unwil∣ling to have, desiring by his example to shew them what to do after his death, viz. either chuse or con∣firm their Provost every third year, which Law he intended first to submit unto. But the Society dis∣liking to have any other Superior but him, meant to except him from that Rule: and therefore on the 19^th of June 1587. the Fathers elected him Perpetual Provost of the Congregation.

Which charge having accepted of, he enacted, that all who would be admitted into his Congrega∣tion

should retain the state and condition of Priests Secular, not binding themselves by any oath or vow: alledging, that if any had a minde to a more perfect kinde of life, there were Houses of Regulars, where they might consummate those holy desires; but it was enough for them of the Congregation of the Oratory to serve God in the bond of mutual Charity, and aiming at the Salvation of themselves and others, to apply themselves wholly to prayer, the administration of the Word, that heavenly re∣past, and promoting a more frequent use of the Sa∣craments.

Some other Statutes he likewise made, by con∣sent of the Fathers, and advice of men fam'd for their worth and skill, especially Cardinal Hierom of Ruvere, a very knowing man, as any of that age; which afterward upon the experience of a∣bove 30 years, and mature deliberation about them, were at length confirm'd by the Letters Apostolique of Pope Paul V.

Now for that the ends of the Institution of the Congregation are handled at large in the foresaid Statutes, it shall suffice to inform the Reader here, how the most wise and Soveraign Lord of all, by means of his servant Philip, introduced a new and differing, that is, a plain and familiar way of preaching Gods word in the City of Rome. For ha∣ving both at S. Hieroms, and the Church of the Florentines observed, how exceedingly the Audi∣tors edified by this popular kinde of Sermons; as soon as ever he came to Vallicella, he ordered, that every workiday, except Saturday, reading some godly lesson before, there should be four Sermons, each for the space of half an hour; which ended, they concluded with some musical consort, and dis∣missed the Assembly.

At these four Sermons he was present every day for divers years, as were other both Priests and Scho∣lars of the Congregation: and whilst the Oratory was at S. Hieroms, he was not only present, but preached there himself every day.

Those whom he called forth to this employment, he principally wished to avoid Subtilties and School-questions, and to propose common Subjects, easie and sutable to each ones capacity. To which end he assigned the Lives of the Saints to some of them to rehearse; to others, the compiling the Ecclesi∣astical Story; to others, the reciting S. Gregories Dialogues: advertising every of them by a familiar and easy stile to stir up a love of vertue, and hatred of vice in the affections of their Auditors. He counselled them, if they sought the good of Souls, to interweave some choice examples still in their discourses. If he heard any propound too difficult subjects, or too curious and quaint in their lan∣guage, he would command him down out of the Pulpit, as one not only having respect with, but authority over them.

And lest they should forsake this low and facile way of preaching, he would not suffer them to dwell long at their studies: so neither would he release Baronius from these usual exercises, al∣though his Annals were then in writing. Not that he would have Learning neglected, but rather that they should apply themselves to the reading of such things as best suited with the Orders of the Oratory; for he would say, The servant of God must indeed learn the Sciences, but principally must avoid osten∣tation: adding That the knowledge of the H. Scri∣ptures was to be got rather by prayer than study.

To these daily Sermons he added frequent pray∣ers;

for he gave order that the doors of the Ora∣tory should be opened every day for all sorts of men, but no women: where for half an hour they used mental prayer, recited Letanies and other pray∣ers, as in the Constitutions is mentioned more at large, and so dissolved their meeting. He enjoyned that on Mondayes, Wednesdayes and Fridayes, they should scourge themselves with cords, in memory of the Passion of our Lord, yet every one at his own discretion.

As touching the Sacraments, he desired the Priests of the Congregation might say Mass every day: although for exercise and tryal of their vertue, he sometimes forbade some of them the doing it daily. He admonished them in the time of celebration not to tire the standers by; but rather study brevity then prolixity; alwayes allowing a competent time to so weighty a matter. He warn∣ed them, that if any found himself transported with holy inspirations in the time of celebrating, he should say, Not here, Lord, not here, but I desire thee to reserve thy self for me in my chamber. Those who were not Priests he wished to confess thrice a week at least, and to receive the Sacrament by ap∣pointment of their Confessor: he advised all Con∣fessors to take Confessions publickly in the Church every Holy day, Wednesday, and Friday; on other dayes he would still have one of them there for that purpose.

For matters of the house, he desired his should chuse a mean, doing nothing that was singular. At times of refection, besides the usual reading, which lasted somewhat above half the meal, the rest of the spare time was spent in propounding a couple of Questions by turns, morning and evening, either

pertaining to Morality, or taken out of Sacred Writ, or the heads of Positive Divinity; which were modestly and briefly answered to by them at table, according to every ones sense.

These are the main of those Orders Philip made in the Congregation: an Institution since planted in many Cities of Italy, and other Provinces. The H. man was absolutely of opinion, that each House that was erected should, resembling his, give Laws to it self, and be obedient to the Ordinaries of the place, independent on the Roman Congregation. Of which two Bulls are extant of Paul V. and Gregory XV.

Yet ambitious he never was of augmenting his number. For when the finest wits, and hopefullest youths daily flocked to him, he would perswade them either to go into some of the Regular Socie∣ties, or live as they were; thereafter as he thought best for them; but never would he entice any to his own Order, either by intreaties or commenda∣tions of it. Yea if all should have forsaken the Congregation, it had not a whit discouraged him; who used to say, God hath no need of men, for of stones he raiseth up Children unto Abraham. If any attempted the like to his designe of the Oratory, it troubled not him: when one told him how some Regulars had taken up the custome in their Church∣es to make familiar discourses, and that they were to be opposed; he wisely answered, And whose gift is it that any prophecy?

In other things he governed his Body with much prudence and caution, and so demeaned himself, that he cemented his own fast together in indisso∣luble bands of love and concord: affirming it was harder then men imagined to preserve long unity

among such as were otherwise at liberty, and out of subjection; which nothing doth more facilitate or sweeten, than gentle conduct and moderate com∣mands. Yet did he never, when there was need of it, slacken or remit the reins of government; ha∣ving some of his so at command, that with a look or beck he could rule them as he pleased: and it was usual with him, whensoever he would reprove any of them, but to look sternly, and 'twas enough.

The detestable vice of disobedience he so perfect∣ly hated ever, that if any of his were found guilty therein, they were straight discarded the House. To which purpose he left in writing these words under his own hand: If any think he cannot hold out, by reason of, the meanness of dyet, the services to be performed at Church, or the like, but will disturb his fellows, let him freely and speedily quit the place; if not, after a first, or second offence let him be ex∣pelled: for I am resolved (ô ye Fathers) they shall not continue amongst us, who refuse to observe these so few Orders. Thus Philip.

And that all his might learn to deny their own understanding, he sent them forth on business at such unseasonable times and hours as seemed a∣gainst all reason; and if they demurred never so little, he redoubled his commands, that so taming and mastering their own wills, they might the sooner arrive at the height of true humility. But what progress in piety he expected from his, and what an enemy he was to the refractory and per∣verse, the Letter which Cardinal Baronius sent from Ferrara, while he tarried there with Clement VIII. to Consolinus then Master of the Novices at Rome, sufficiently testifies; where he writes.

I must accuse my self indeed for writing no∣thing

to you all this while, were it but to thank you for your prayers to God for me. I now defray that debt; and as effectually as, I can, both thank and entteat you, together with your Scholars my dearest dear Children, to whom I dayly wish greater increase in vertue, hereafter to do the same still. Cherish Good Father, che∣rish those young and tender plants, dressing them to the likeness of their fair Precedent, the Tree of which they are Branches: the same way and course You steer, conduct them: and be as∣sured, Our B. Parent still lives, sees, and orders his, holding a scourge in his hand to chastise the unruly. For my self, I beg of you, R. Father, to rank me among your Novices, punishing my faults without favour or delay. I would to God I could thus grow young again, verifying that of the Prophet in me, Renovabitur ut aquilae juventus tua. Thy youth shall be renewed like the Eagles. For this, I take it, is the meaning of Abishags cherishing David spent with travail; namely, when the heat of the spirit meets with old age. Certainly Abishag (as you well know) lay with our H. Father, who in his very last years felt such heats, as he thought himsef in a manner burnt up therewith. Not furrs, nor purple can warm the aged, but Abishag alone: O let me obtain this favour of God, let me procure this by prayer to enjoy her embraces in this last cold season of my life; since this alone hath induced me to write. So God bless and sanctifie you.

Ferra∣ra. August 14. 1598. Caesar Baronius Cardinal.

Lastly, as to domestique affaires, He was very cautious not to wast the goods of the Congregation, being the Patrimony of Christ, and stock of the

Poor: wherein he was so carefull, that he would let nothing be disbursed more than needs must: al∣ledging that which Cassian writes of a Cook, whom the Fathers sharply reproved, for but wasting three grains of Lentils: and that of S. Antonine Archbi∣shop of Florence, who went into the Church a nights, and studied by the light of the Lamp, lest (as he said) he should impair the Poors maintenance. And if any judged it too great rigor, he replyed; Away with that nicety: so the goods belong not to the Church do what you will with them.

CHAP. XX. The Obedience and Reverence given him by his Sons.

THe Congregation being reduced into this mo∣dell, the Religious Father in the first place re∣commended obedience to his; a duty which not only those of his House, but even strangers most readily payed him, nothing being so hard or irk∣some, which upon his commands they would not attempt. For this reason Cardinall Taurusius a∣vouched some of them little short of the Egyptian Monks in point of obedience, though neither by vow nor oath thereto obliged; and that none of the Founders of other Orders, that he knew of, were more punctuall observed and obeyed than Philip by his. Nor was it spoken upon slight grounds; for some did so revere him, that had he bid them throw themselves down head-long, or into the fire, immediately they would have obey∣ed. To which purpose the following instances may serve.

As he was once discoursing of the vertue of Obe∣dience to his Sons, by a certain fishpond; Which of you, faith he, will come to such a pitch of Obedience, as to fling himself straight into this water at my bidding? He had scarce said it, and that occasio∣nally, not in earnest, but one of them, not staying for a command, fetching his leap skips in, to the certain danger of his life, had not they which were by run in speedily to his help.

One time he commanded three of them to walk naked through one of the notedst parts of the City called the Bank. Strange! they begin to lay away their Coats, unbutton them, pull off their shoes, and without delay to fulfill his pleasure; and had done it, but that he made them forbear and put on their cloaths again.

Another time, as he went by Vespasians Amphi∣theatre, to visit the sick in S. John Laterans Hospi∣tall, as his custome was, he light on a beggar ly∣ing on the ground very sick, and all dirty, whom compassionating, he beckens to one of his Sons to take him out of the dirt, and carry bim on his shoulders to the Hospitall. He presently takes up the poor man on his shoulders and to the wonder∣ment of all brings him to the place.

Baronius was ill at his Stomack, and if he eat never so little, it became very offensive to him; besides such a headach that Philip for bad him to use much prayer, or do any thing that might take up his thoughts. So coming one day after dinner to the B. Father, as he used, there lay in the Cham∣ber by chance a Limon and a pretty big loaf: Phi∣lip bad him, Caesar, take that limon and that loaf and eat them up. Baronius thinking on the merit of Obedience, crossing himself forthwith did so, and

recovered of either infirmity, both that of his sto∣mack and his head. The same Baronius testifies, that for 9 years together going every day to attend the sick at the Hospitall of the H. Ghost by Philips appointement, coming thither with a fever oftimes upon him, he went home perfectly well having performed those charitable offices.

Again, whatever was done by Philips advice succeded prosperously, Fabritius de Maximis one of his Pupils whom he loved entirely, had two sons that had been long sick, one of which fed only on Broths and liquids, the other could hardly swallow at all. Fabritius, hoping if they went from Rome to some better air, they might possibly escape danger, consulted the Physicians about it, whose opinions was, if they were removed from the City they could not live. It was July and in the dog-days, when Philip, being visited by Fabritius and acquainted with all that passed, bids him Go, and fear nothing, let them be conveyed in a Litter, and they will recover without fail. Fabricius followed his counsel, and the next day had them to Arsolum 28 miles from the City: whither when they came they straight mended as Philip said. And one of them being hurt in the carriage, taking horse rid out the rest of the journey, without ever being weary.

Vincentius Crescentius, Cardinall Crescentius's own Brother, a hopefull youth asked leave of Philip to go to a certain Church with some civill associates about his own age (for without his leave nothing might be done) and it being granted, went: when in the coming back Vincentius fell out of the coach, and the coach wheel ran over his leg; but he got up unhurt, and hying a foot to Philip told him of it, who bid him, Attribute it wholly to your obedience

for had you not desired leave you had doubtlesse broak your leg.

Another, a Roman lately married affirms, that as oft as he was at feasts or shews with Philips permis∣sion, he was never anoyed with lewd imaginations; on the other side, if he went of his own head, he was perpetually molested with filthy thoughts.

Mark Anthony Maffa was troubledat nothing more than his preaching, and could never frame to it, yet at Philips command, which he highly reverenced, he performed the duty with such approbation, as he was not inferiour to the choicest Preachers.

On the contrary, many observed that those who sleighted Philips counsel or directions, most what came to an evill end. Francis Maria Tauru∣sius full of holy Zeal had often importuned Philip to let him rise a nights to prayer, who regarding his infirm constitution denyed him. He neglect∣ing his advice, and rising one night to pray, was taken with such a distemper in his head, that he was forced for XI. Moneths after to forbear it quite.

Another of Philips sons without acquainting the Father whipt himself a days, and being troubled in conscience about it, asked his leave, who told him I not only forbid you to do it every day, but for do∣ing it at all. Yet he often beseeching him for his consent, Once aweek then, saith Philip, I give you leave. Lo! within a little while after he falls down at the Good mans feet, crying, It repents me Father it repents me, for when the day comes for whip∣ing me, I am so loath to do it now, that I cannot en∣dure it once, and therefore I acknowledge, what I did before with much delight, was but the content of satisfying my fond will.

He once forbad one going to Tiber, another to Naples; both were disobedient: for which the one broak his leg, as his horse stumbled; the other falling into the sea had like to have lost his life.

A young man, whose name is purposely omit∣ted, contrary to the H. Fathers minde had con∣tracted acquaintance; which he hearing presaged he would come to an unfortunate end. Within few days killing his fellow he fled from Rome, whi∣ther none knew.

Fabricius de Maximis had put forth a great sum of money, for a yearly revenue for the life of his Daughter Helena: at Spring being to go into the Country, he comes to Philip, as his manner was, who bid him, Secure your money setling it on some o∣ther besides your daughter. He neglected it, for that Helena was young and lusty. In September fol∣lowing she sickned and died: and her Father lost all his money: which chance befell divers others. On the contrary, those that took his counsell sav∣ed their estates.

Further, the H. man excited his sons to this vertue of obedience not with bare words, but main∣ly by his example: for besides his constant and in∣dispencible observance of the Prelates of the Church, above mentioned; at his entring on Val∣licella (where he was Governour) as oft as he was called either to the Gate, or into the Vestry and the Church, presently and at all hours laying every thing aside he would be there, using to say, That it was better to obey the Sexton or Porter than to be at prayers in his Cell. And if any objected a Priest must have time to prepare himself for Mass; his answer was, Then is he prepared aright, when he so lives, as, for the spotless purity of his conscience he may celebrate it at all hours.

When he was sick, he was so observant of his Physitians, that although he found much trouble in taking medicines, yet whatever they prescribed him he willingly and cheerfully received. Yea though they enjoyned him to suspend his prayers, or omit Mass (which most grieved him) yet he did acquiesce in their Judgments. As once, a Physician forbiding him his Canonicall Hours, though otherwise most devoted to Prayer, he im∣mediately obeyed.

To this purpose he was wont to produce select Aphorismes. as first:

That those who intended to proceed in Christian discipline should submit themselves wholly to the commands of their Su∣periours: those that were under no tye of sub∣jection should be rul'd by some able and discreet Confessor, and do nought without his advice; al∣ledging, that they which did so, should render no account to the Supream Judge for actions of that sort. Yet he willed every one seriously to deliberate on the choice of his Confessor, after which election not to leave him, except for very weighty and necessary reasons: for (saith he) the devill, unable to engage men in horrid crimes, strives amain to make Penitents distrust∣full of their Confessors; that, whom he cannot apparently subvert, having stoln from them their Spirituall guide, he might secretly supplant. He said further, That the shor test cut to Perfection was Obedience; more valluing them who for love to so noble a vertue lived but an ordinary kind of life under Obedience, than those who voluntarily practised the most rigid austerities. Withall he wished them, to accustome themselves to Obedi∣ence in the least things, for by this means it would

become easier to them in the Greater.

One time he sent Francis a Molaria a Noble Ro∣man to S. Hieroms about some business, who com∣ing thither assayed with his key to open the door but could not, he was returning back again, when abashed and going the second time his key would not in; but he was fain with shame to come away to acquaint Philip what had hapned. He chargeth him yet to returne and reattempt the business: he doth so, and at last opens it: so filled with admi∣ration and joy together he came back to Philip, who said to him, son hereafter learn to acknowledge the efficacy of Obedience.

As touching them in special of the Congregation, he required of them, first, that without delay as oft as any service either in the Church, or Oratory, or at home was to be done, to quit all business. He counselled them, not to have any thing in the Vestry belonging to them in particular, not a Sur∣plice, not a Chalice, not an Altar, not an hour, but to be at the Sacrists appointment. He said it pertained to true and regular Obedience, without the discourse of the Understanding, to follow the injunctions of Superiours: assured, that nothing was so expedient, and so conducing to us, as what was imposed by them. And he exhorted those that were under Regular obedience, though they did much good where they were, if their Superior disposed of them elsewhere to no such seeming advantages, instantly to submit. He would likewise say, We should diligently exa∣mine, whether some good we intended, was yet required by God in just such a manner, or such a time, and whether of us or of others rather: which only the vertue of Obedience could di∣stinguish.

Lastly, he willed Confessors to labour mostly with their Penitents in this vertue, and train them up to the mastering their Ʋnderstandings, and breaking them of their wills: teaching them rather to lay down their own opinions, and to de∣ny themselves, than to afflict their Carkasses with ungentle usage: adding, that such, who either through neglect, or other weak grounds, dischar∣ged not this duty to their Penitents, should ren∣der a sad account thereof to God.

The Second Book, Of the Life of Philip Nerius. Of the Vertues of Philip.

CHAP. I. His Devotion and Love to God.

INtending to decipher the Vertues of Philip, it seemeth congruous to begin at that, which is the root, and ground of all the rest, his Love to God: wherewith he was so fired that the inward flames lodged within his Soul broke out visibly in his very body. So that rehearsing his Office, or discoursing of heaven, or the like, certain fiery raies were seen to flash out at his eys.

This ardour of Divine Charity so scorched his heart that sometimes the B. man would even lan∣guish for love; and at other times whether he stood or walked, his tongue would fly out in various ex∣pressions of holy affections. For once beginning (though not heeding it) these words of the Apostle, Cupio, stopping on the sudden he suppressed the rest; Dissolvi, & esse cum Christo. i. e. I desire—

to be dissolved and to be with Christ: another while ravished with the excesses of the Spirit he brak forth into that of S. Paul; repletus sum consolatione, super∣abundo gaudio. I am filled with comfort, I over∣bound with joy.

When he went to Church to his prayers, he felt such over flowings of the H. Spirit, that as soon as ever he kneeled down, he was forced to rise a∣gain, for fear of an Extasy. Sometimes his eyes were so set on heaven, that who so had seen him must needs have taken him for the blessed S. Martin, fixed in that posture of Prayer.

But though he were thus transported with these Divine favours, yet had it so pleased God, his desire was to haue served his H. Majesty without the gusts of such sensible devotion. But to proceed.

First, He was carried with such a longing desire unto the H. Eucharist, that being yet a Layman he took this heavenly refection every day: and being made Priest said Mass daily, if he were well; if not, he received after the manner of Laicks: most what at midnight. Therefore toward the end of his life, that he might not be too troublesome to his Asso∣ciates, he procured of the Pope to have the Fucha∣rist reserved in a certain little Room neer his cham∣ber, dressed after the manner of an Oratory; which Room when he was Canonized began to be in great veneration with all, and to be honoured with cele∣bration of Mass there, and resorts of the religious; and lastly was of late years with solemnity tran∣slated to the new erected Church, as is to be seen.

As oft as he was sick, and the B. Sacrament brought him, as it used to be, after midnight, if the Priest came not just at the time, he was so dis∣quieted in himself that he could not rest: insomuch

as being once dangerously ill, and hearing the Bell for Mattens, none having brought him his heaven∣ly repast; for Taurusius delayed the time lest he might disturb his rest, he knowing the reason cals Taurusius and tels him, Think not that this will be a means to keep me awake, but reach hither my Lord, and I shall instantly fall asleep. So receiving the Bread of Angels, having soon after slept a while he began to be bettter, and quickly recovered. A∣nother time being ill, as Antony Gallonius held the Eucharist in his hand, tarrying longer than ordi∣nary ere he gave it him, he not able to wait longer said, Ah, Antony, why keepest thou my Lord in thy hand, and givest him not to me so passionately desiring him? when having taken the H. Communion he fel into a pleasing slumber.

The same mind and affections he desired to im∣plant in all his; exciting all Priests of the Congre∣gation to say Mass every day, unlesse they were hindred by some urgent occasion or let; nor would he take the excuses of those, who for some relaxa∣tion to their minds remitted the frequency of say∣ing Mass. For saith he, who ever looks for recrea∣tion but from his Creator, or consolation, but from Christ, shall never finde either true recreation or so∣lace. He was very desirous that Lay-persons should oft partake of this Sacrament: therefore at his in∣stance some of them every eighth day, some every Holy-day, others, but those were few, every day feasted on this Angelicall food. Yet he more fre∣quently perswaded them to the Sacrament of con∣fession, than of the Altar.

Being to say Mass he was so rapt in contem∣plation of celestiall things, that he was fain to divert his mind another way, for fear of Trances: and

oftimes you might have seen the Good man stand still a∣while, * 1.6 and give over at the time of celebration, by several sleights and actions to shun those surprises. Wherefore if he said Mass publikly in the Church, he admited none in at∣tendance but such as were fa∣miliarly known to him. And yet nothing inde∣cent or unseemly fell from him in such fits and Vi∣olences; but he rather provoked the standers by to piety and devotion.

When he came to that part of the Mass called the Offertory, a 1.7 his heart so leap∣ed for joy within him, that albeit he was of full strength, of a good age, and free from any inclination to Palsies, he could never powre the Wine into the Chalice till he rested his elbow on * 1.8 something: yet did he at no time spil the least drop of either the Blood or Wine.

At the Elevation of the Hoast,

many times his hands would continue a long while together held up, and sometimes * 1.9 he was raised a handfull or more from the ground. Therefore to a∣void such like accidents, which he suffred against his will; he set down the Hoast as soon as ever he had but lift it up.

In receiving of the B. Bread he found such deli∣cacy, and such a flavor, as if swallowing the pleasing∣est sweet-meats: and therefore he picked out the

thickest wafers for that purpose, that so the H. Spe∣cies might last the longer, and he thereby enjoy more of the presences of his Saviour.

But when he drank the blood of his Lord, he did so fasten on the Chalice with his lips and teeth, that he not only fetched off the gilt of it with hard sucking, but left in the very Plate the prints of his teeth.

Notwithstanding in this sacred office he was ra∣ther quick than tedious: yet with so great a passion of devotion, that he would draw teares many times from those that were by.

Mass ended, and thanks duly rendred, as he re∣turned to his chamber, he would be so entranced, as not to be able to discern those he met; and of so wan a visage, that he resembled one rather dead than living.

In his latter years, advising with some eminent both for their piety and their parts, he procured of Gregory XIII. that little chamber above mentioned, to celebrate Mass in, with greater privacy and free∣dom. Where, when the time of receiving the Sa∣crament came, dismissing the company and put∣ing out the lights all but one, the dovr and windows shut, he staid behind alone: then his servant fastned a note at the door with these words in it, Silence for the Father is at Mass. About two houres after, the Servant came again, and knocked at door; when if Philip called or answered, he straight unlockt the doors, opened the windows, and light the tapers, so the Father dispatched the rest of Mass. But what passed there betwixt God and him, themselves only knew.

Besides, administring the Sacraments to others, he was so enflamed with pious ardours that his whole

body trembled. Insomuch as a Woman then but newly converted to the faith, reports that she saw the Servant of God holding a Pixe in his hand, whose body did so shake, that the H particles were seen raised up on high out of the Pixe, and he himself with an aspect like fire, who presently grew pale as ashes.

The like befell Nerus de Nigris a Roman Lord, and a Patrician of Florence, one very much beloved of Philip; who came on a time to Church and brought one Barsum, Archdeacon of Alexandria with him, who was then Embassadour from Alexandria in Egypt to the Pope, both of them receiving the Communion at the Fathers hands. Who, as he held the Pixe, was taken with such a trembling, that Nerus feared lest some of the H. particles should fall down, and therefore with a beseeming reverence caught his right hand and held it till he had taken the Eucharist. When they were gone, he told Nerus; You raised a great heat in me to day: for he perceived himself affected with an extraor∣dinary fervour, by the presence of the Archdea∣con.

In like sort when he reached forth the Hoast at the Communion, to Julia Ʋrsina Rangonia a Noble and religious Lady; she with those that were pre∣sen saw a consecrated Wafer parted out of his fingers hanging in the air to the amazement of all.

He was ravished with devotion to the most sa∣cred Passion of our Lord. And therefore had he by him a brazen Crucifix, the body whereof he could take from the cross, and by putting it to his lips or breast satisfie his devout affections. From this continuall meditation on our Saviours Passion, grew his so vehement desire of going to the Indies

to lay down his life for Christ. But not obtaining this wish of his, the Merciful Lord answered his de∣sires in another kind, for, like that H. Virgin Luth∣garda, he was Christs Martyr in designe, though not in event, shedding blood for blood. Yea he bled at the mouth so excedingly all his life, that he seemed many times to have quite lost his sight and pulse. In which most sweet languishment he was wont to say; O Good Jesu, that I could for thy sake poure out my blood, till, at least in part, I have an∣swered thy incomparable love.

Withall he was so devoutly affected unto the most sacred Name of Jesus that at the very sound there∣of he was even ravished. He was also hugely de∣lighted in repeating the Apostles Creed, being him∣self full of faith. He said the Lords Prayer with such deliberation and devotion, that sometimes he could hardly finish it.

CHAP. II. His devotion to the B. Virgin, and the Saints.

BUt the signall reverence and ardent devotion with which he honoured the B. Mother of God, no language is sufficient to express: styling her suas delicias, Amoresque suos, his Darling, and his Love; oft uttering with his tongue the Name of Mary, which he ever carryed in his heart: nay so tenderly did he affect her, that many times (as children use) he would lispingly call her Mani∣ma.

He spent whole nights in prayer to her. At S. Hieroms he fell so desperately ill, that his Doctor,

appointed one to watch with him; who one night heard the H. man (supposing none nere him) in most friendly and familiar expressions talking with the Virgin of Virgins; that the whole night seemed to him gone like a minute; and when in the morn∣ing it rung to the Angels salutation, he mistook it for the evening.

Two short Prayers (among other) called Eja∣culatory, he commonly used in honour of the blessed Virgin: the first; O Virgin Mary, Mother of God pray to Jesus for me: the second; Virgin and Mo∣ther. With which forms of Prayer repeated three∣score times together he counselled his (to no small advantage of their Souls) to present the Virgin as a sacred Chaplet.

And the Divine Goodness strangely approved this way of praying: for one of the Congregation being tempted, though unwillingly, about the unstained purity of the H. Virgin, and intimateing so much to Philip, he prescribed him the forementioned form, wherewith to salute the Mother of God; who assaying it, was soon freed of the trouble of the temptation.

He professed many favours done him by the Vir∣gin: one was, that whensoever he was disquieted with evil spirits, or frighted with ugly sights, pre∣sently repairing but to her image, his fear left him immediately.

When the Fathers were busy in pulling down the old Church, he that overlooked the work, bid the Ma∣sons by no means deface that part of the building where was kept a very ancient Pourtraicture of the B. Virgin: but Philip one day betimes in the morning commands them without delay to take down that Roof, for he had seen our B. Lady that night hold∣ing,

it up with her hand, they did so, and viewing the place they espy a beam hanging in the air loose from the wall, and amazed at the miracle, they shouted, and applying their engines took down the roof. This is that Image of our Lady which at this day is seen on the great Altar.

He was likewise favoured with divers Visions and apparitions of her; let one serve for all; that famous one a little before his end, of which in its place.

As concerning the other Saints, he alwayes gave them singular veneration: and would have their Lives read daily to him for some houres together. He chose for his Patrons Mary Magdalen, on whose Vigil, he was born, and the H. Apostles Philip and James, the one for that he bore his Name; the o∣ther for that his Solemnity was kept upon the same day. On the greater Festivals he likewise receiv∣ed greater celestial favours, and would say, It was a bad sign, not to relish spiritual things more than ordi∣narily on the extraordinary Solemnities of the Church.

He had a high esteem of the Saints Reliques; yet would very hardly suffer any of his Disciples to re∣serve them in their private custody, both because ••o in tract of time they finde less respect, and for that they are often lost by unskilful heirs that know not their worth. For, saith he, Churches and places consecrate are most proper for them. Yet was he not absolutely against it, for one to keep them decently and devoutly by him: nay himself had in his chamber a box full of Sacred Reliques. And here must not be forgot what hapned after his de∣cease, while the box was in Baronius's keeping. An∣tony Francus a Regular Clerk fell ill at Rome, and the Physicians giving him over he received the celestial Viaticum; when Baronius coming to see him brought

those Reliques mentioned, puting them unto his brest, and for his ease and satisfaction left them with him. That night being in a dangerous fit, taking the Box he prayed to God, that of his good∣ness, and for the merits of the B. Philip, he would help him: in the midst of which thoughts he fals asleep, and in the morning when he wakn'd found his disease gone, and in short time perfectly re∣covered.

Lastly his devotion toward H. Reliques was emi∣nently seen, what time the Bodies of the holy Mar∣tyrs Papias and Maurus were conveyed from the Deaconry of S. Adrian to the Congregation, and ho∣nourably interred under the great Altar. For go∣ing in solemn Procession as soon as the Good man be∣held the Bier draw neer to the Church-doors, he began for gladness to skip with his feet, to clap his hands, to lift up his eys, and to shake all over, melt∣ing inwardly, and languishing away for joy. When the Translation was finished, he enjoyned Gallonius to compile the History of their Acts carefully and exactly, which he did at large.

CHAP. III. He conveys Holiness and Devotion unto others.

STrange it was, that not only himself flamed with Love to the Divine Majesty, but through the special gift of the H. Ghost, wonderously en∣flamed those he conversed with: as on the contra∣ry, those that left his acquaintance, by little and little lost all relish of spiritual matters.

Lavinia de Rusticis, Wife to Fabricius de Maxi∣mis,

had somewhat a mean opinion of Philip, be∣fore she chose him for her Confessor; but when she heard him discourse of heavenly things with such zeal and ardent affection, she fell in love with Christ presently, and put her self under the tuition of the Servant of God; yea she, who but now intended matters the world, having once tasted of the Spirit, con∣fessed her sins thrice a week, and as oft received the H. Sacrament. And having learnt of Philip to de∣spise the world, and afflict her self, she gave her minde so much to prayer, that she had many times Raptures, and when she died, Philip affirmed that she enjoyed the Glory of the Blessed in heaven.

Constantia Draco, Crescentia, and her Maid stood by him once, as he said Mass, and on the sudden they both found themselves glow with such spiritual ardors, and even dissolved into tears, that the Mistris turning to her Maid said, Do you perceive what this is? Yes replyed she: for observing more narrowly, they imputed it solely to the merits of Philip.

Nerus de Nigris, the first time he heard Philip say Mass, being formerly wont to be much desquieted in his minde, averred, that he felt himself, so wel disposed unto heavenly meditations, that he won∣dred at himself, which thing he afterward oftimes experienced.

They that prayed with him were so enamoured on religious duties, that continuing in prayer for many hours together, they thought the time no∣thing. One of them having spent an hour in pray∣er, deemed it but as a minute, saying, O that I were alwayes thus piously affected, how gladly would I pray with Philip continually

He was at hearing Confessions, many times so en∣kindled

with sacred fire, that divers of his Sons as oft as he held them close to his brest at the instant of Absolution, felt themselves revived with unutte∣rable spirituall sweetness and delight.

John Atrina a Campanian, and most intimate with the B. man, hath these words.

As oft as I entred within Philips chamber, though I were possessed with extream joy, yet I confess I shook all over: as oft likewise as his Soveraign hand ei∣ther touched my shoulder, took me by the locks, or plucked me by the ear, straight my mind swarmed with holy and devout cogitations; as though some speciall inspiration of Divine grace had from heaven breathed upon my heart, where∣by I was driven in a sort to the Altar of the H. Sacrament to Prayer.

Mark Antony Maffa saith thus. Ever since I came acquainted with Philip I always honoured him as a Saint; and, as far as I might, contrived still to be with him. When he gave me Sacramen∣tal Absolution, there issued forth almost ever from his body a certain ardor of devotion, that forced tears from me, which never befel me when I Confessed to others: being under any pressures or temptations, assisted by his prayers and counsell I went away replenished with joy, and they were presently dispelled. After his death, I never had recourse to him in my thoughts, in any streights, but I found my self fortified with di∣vine consolation; and when I put on the Ʋest∣ments, in which he, when he was living, used to say Mass, I cannot but weep aboundantly.

Thus he.

CHAP. IV His Gift of Tears.

ADd to this, that the heart of Philip pierced with the Love of Christ became so exceeding soft, that when any ones discourse tended either to grief or pity, he could not hold breaking forth into Tears. He would so bitterly bewaill offences com∣mited against God, and the offenders, that by re∣port of Cardinal Frederic Borromeo, you might have seen him weep like a Child corrected by his Parents.

A Young Noble man had for shame concealed some sins of his in Confession, Philip observed it; and looking earnestly on him lets fall a showre of tears; whereby he procured of God for his Penitent such hearty sorrow for sin, that he likewise burst out in∣to tears very plentifully: they both wept, were both silent; neither of them left weeping for a good space, at length the young man fals down on his knees, detects all the foul corners of his consci∣ence to him; whom the B. Father affectionately embracing, and accepting his Confession, dismissed, assoiled of his faults, and satisfied in his mind. But Philip, being of a most mild temper, had not wept e∣nough; till hying to his chamber, he there let lose the reins to his sorrows, to the full. After which the young man discovered to his former con∣fessor the sins of his whole life; and within few days comes and tels Philip, how he had disclosed all: to whom the Father answered, Though I heard not the Confession of your life, yet be sure, I exactly know all and every of the faults you have ever committed.

Nay more then that, I tell you, now you carry a good face with you: (which kind of expression the H. man used when he saw any of his reclaimed:) he re∣plied, I beseech you, Father, that you would obtain sin∣cere contrition for me by your prayers to God; and had scarse spoke the word, but he was immediately struck from heaven with so profound a grief, as he said, he never felt a greater in all his life.

The Good man one time went to a Noble mans Mannour with Caesar Baronius, Joh. Franc. Bordi∣nus, Thomas Bozzius, and others. In the afternoon, about the time when usually the sermons begin in the Church, Philip on the sudden enjoyned Bozzi∣us to preach to them ex tempore, that those who were there might not be wholly without benefit of the word of God. He did, when straight Philip ad∣ding somewhat in confirmation of what he had said, as he was speaking, there fell on him such a trem∣bling all his body over, and such aboundance of tears and sobs came from him, that he was fain to break off his discourse. This used to happen al∣most as often as he spake of spirituall matters.

A certain Prelate surprized him once on the sud∣den, as he was reading the Lives of Saints, weeping excessively; who asking him, Father, what doth this weeping m••an? he jestingly answered, May not I grieve, who am an Orphan bereft of both my Parents? at which the Prelate smiled, and he both handsome∣ly and wisely smothered the cause of his sorrow∣ing. Another time Angelus Victorius a Physician, one, whom the Father loved, took him reading and crying over the lives of the Saints, when de∣manding the reason of his heaviness, I lament saith, he, that this Saint, whose story is in my hands, renounced the world, whereas I have never yet done the least good:

and added, what, O Angelus, If thou shouldest see me beaten with cudgels thorow the City? Thou wouldest say, spare, O spare that Good Philip, who professed so great Sanctity. Nay rather lay on, Executioner, lay on soundly: and as he uttered these words the tears trickled down his cheeks.

If he but read, or spake at any time of the Pas∣sion of our Lord, presently the tears ran down. Once in Holy week he read the Passion of Christ at Mass, as the custom is; when perceiving himself Rapt, he strove by all means to divert his thoughts another way; but coming to the Sacred History of Christs Death, unable to contain any longer, he gave scope to his sighs and grones, all that were present wondring and weeping together with him. Yea very often upon the hearing one word only of the Passion, he would melt into tears: otherwhiles wax pale, either hearing or speaking of that My∣stery. Sometimes he could hardly breathe, other times he trembled every joint: So that he was a∣bout to forbear preaching publikely; and being ask∣ed, Why? his answer was, Because he had not such ready parts: yet he abstained not formerly, for that the number of Preachers being but small, what nature was defective in, God supplied.

He went to dinner once to the Refectory of S. Pra∣xede, erected by S. Carlo Borromeo, and with him the Cardinal of Vercellae, a most holy and learned person: and when, according to their custome after meals, the Spiritual Conferences began, each one be∣ing to answer in order, Philip, on occasion offered, beginning to treat of the Love of Christ, the Tears and Sighs broke in so fast upon him, that his voyce being stop'd, he stood stone-still without moving.

When he was once very sick, they gave him Cock-

broth to drink, but taking the Porrenger in his hand, he wept exceedingly; saying, Thou, ô my Sa∣viour, hangedst on the Tree, and am I served in my bed, amidst so many delights, so many conveniences, so great attendance? which as he repeated again and again, such a flood of Tears followed, that he was not able to drink.

When he administred the H. Communion to his Penitents, the Tears fell in such plenty, that he was often forced to desert the employment.

At Divine Service he was so affected with the Melody of Church-Musick, that he many times cried all the while. Being once in the Q••ire among the Friers at S. Maries supra Minervam, he wept so, that he wet all the forepart of his cloathes

Last of all he was so inclined to grief, that on all occasions of Piety he would shed Tears: and it was reckoned for a Miracle, that by continual weeping he lost not his fight, which he retained perfect to fourscore years of age, without using Spectacles; though he had divers pairs by him, to preserve and refresh his sight, as he said, which after his death were affirmed to have done many strange Cures, be∣ing used in diseases.

Among others, Lucia Marzana, a Recluse in the Monastery of S. Lucia in silice, in the City, being much troubled with the Head-ach, applying but the H. mans Spectacles to the place affected, fell into a gentle slumber, and when she rose, her pai•• was gone.

CHAP. V. His Prayers.

THis fervour of Charity, and abundance of Tears he obtained only by his frequent exercise of Prayer: which he was continually so much ad∣dicted to, that he directed all those Religious ex∣ercises he had instituted in the Oratory to this one; and therefore entitled it the Congregation of the Oratory.

To this Divine Study he so vigourously set him∣self, and made such progress therein, that standing, or walking his thoughts were still fixed upon God; more naturally soaring heaven-ward, then the do∣ters on this world tend groveling toward earth.

Many a time, whilst his Scholars were discussing several and serious matters in his Chamber, be dis∣engaged from their affairs, either cast up his eyes to heaven, or crossed his hands, or sometimes fetched groans from the bottom of his heart. As he walked the streets hee was so swallowed up of contempla∣tion, that ever and anon he must be plucked by the sleeve, and put in minde to offer, or returne, Sa∣lutes. After dinner, that he might not injure the health of his body by too much intention of the minde, when he had a desire to slumber or to rest him, he was wont to call Gallonius and tell him, You know what to do, if you would have me sleep: mean∣ing, that he must call off his thoughts from the consideration of things supernaturall, by variety of discourse, or some pleasant reading for that pur∣pose. Indeed he felt that in himself, which he used to apply in generall to others: to wit, That a

man enflamed with the Love of God must arrive to that heighth of Chariy, as to be constrained to cry out; Let me alone Lord, let me rest a while: for whoever is indisposed to pray even at Noon, and after meals, hath not yet received the Gift of Prayer.

He never went upon any business that was not usher'd in with Prayer either by himself or his: whence he gained so strong a confidence, that he spared not to say, Give me but time to pray, and I am sure to obtain of God what I ask. And at other times, Hoc volo, Hoc jubeo: This I will, this I command: and as he said, it fell out still. Briefly, by his perseverance in prayer he attained even to supernaturall illuminations, that he knew exactly which of his had prayed that morning, and which not.

But though his whole life might truely be term∣ed one continued Prayer, yet he prescribed him∣self some set hours, to encrease his devotion there in. For in Summer, except some work of Chari∣ty hindred, he retired himself to the top of the house; morning and evening, where he might view heaven and earth: to that end, not only at S. Hieroms, but a Vallicella amongst his own he built him a Closset on the very Roof, a story higher than the rest. And in his latter dayes he went up to the leads of the Church: where he spent a good space in holy Cogitations: yet if at any time he were called forth to any pious work, he came down straight, and quitted his spirituall exercise, till having dispatched his business he returned again; saying, He did not therefore reject Meditation, but left Christ for Christ; and that the force of Prayer was not hereby diminished, but augmented rather.

In the Winter after Sun-set, he prolonged his

Prayers to the second or third hour of the night: and going to rest, that he might rise again to pray∣er just at his time, he hung his Watch at the Beds head, by feeling of which he knew what a clock it was: and hard by his Crucifix he laid the Rosary of our Lady, that when he wakened he might fall to his Prayers.

At some speciall times in the year, as the prin∣cipall Festivals, and when publique or private ne∣cessity required, his prayers were both longer and more intense. He watched, fasted, and prayed, on Good Friday all those hours that the sacred Body of our Lord was kept apart by it self in memory of his Buriall.

He devoutly and attentivly recited his Canonicall hours, for the most part joyning a Companion to him, for he could not dispatch them alone, by reason he was subject to rapts. He almost ever had his Bre∣viary lying open, being wonderous carefull that no error passed in saying it; and if any chanced, though he seemed as one bereft of sense, he pre∣sently corrected the mistakes. When he was four∣score years old, Gregory XIV. remitted him his Of∣fice upon repeating the Rosary of the B. Virgin; which favour he at no time made use of. Nay if he were extream sick, he appointed the Canonicall hours should be rehearsed in his hearing at least.

To Prayer he added Reading, and the daily per∣using Saints Lives, alledging that, There was no better incentive to Piety then the Examples and Rules of Saints. Besides those lives gathered by Lippo∣man, he commonly used Cassians Collations; the Imitation of Christ, father'd on Gerson; the Life of S. Katherine of Siena; and above all, the Acts of the B. John Columbine. For the Books of H. Scrip∣ture:

he delighted much in S. Pauls Epistles. Those whom he designed for preachers he counselled to read their works chiefly whose names began with S. as S. Augustine▪ S. Gregory; S. Bernard; and the rest.

And because he was desirous that People should rise from prayer rather cheared than tired, he wish∣ed such, as he thought lesse able to pray long toge∣ther, that they should often raise their devotion by certain short Ejaculations: some of which more fre∣quently used by him, are here annexed.

Create in mee a clean heart, O God; and renew a right Spirit within mee. O God, make speed to save mee: O Lord, make hast to help mee. Teach me to do thy will. O Lord, hide not thy self from mee. O Lord, I am oppressed, undertake for mee. Thou art the way, the truth, and the life. Thy will be done in Earth as it is in Heaven. Jesus, be thou to mee Jesus. Remember not, Lord, mine iniquities. When shall I love thee with a filial love. O Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy upon mee. Kindle in mee the fire of thy love. As yet I know thee not, because I seek thee not, O my Jesu. What might I do to be pleasing to thee, O my Jesu? What might I do to perform thy will, O my Jesu? Give me grace to serve thee, not for fear, but love, O my Jesu. O my Jesu I would fain love thee. I am distrustfull of my self, and trust in the, O my Jesu.

I cannot do well, except thou help me, O my Jesu. I will do nothing, but thy most holy will, O my Jesu. I never have loved thee, yet would I fain love thee, O my Jesu. I shall never love thee, if thou help mee not, O my Jesu, I would fain love the, but find not the way, O my Jesu. I seek thee, and do not finde thee, O my Jesu. If I knew thee, I should also know my self, O my Jesu. If I should have done all the good in the world, what great matter had I done, O my Jesu? If thou help me not, I shall fall, O my Jesu. Cut away all impediments, If thou wilt have mee, O my Jesu. Do with mee, O Lord, as thou knowest, and as thou pleasest. That shall become of mee which shall please the Lord; I put my trust in God. O Blessed Lady, Obtain for mee the grace to be al∣waves mindefull of thee.

Maria Mater Gratiae, mater misericordiae, tu nos ab hoste protege, & horâ mortis suscipe.

But Philip not herewith content, inroduced a custom in most families in the City, of having a private Oratory in every house, where the whole number both of men and women might assemble to Prayers. Nay some had not only Oratories, but followed the same orders and courses observed in the Congregation.

The Instructions given by him upon this subject were these. First, he said,

The best Prepara∣tive

to Prayer was for a man to think himself un∣worthy of so high a Service. Next, the frequent using to master our affections: being wont to say He that went to pray, and could not bridle and sub∣due his Passions, was like a Bird not fledged, yet offering to fly. Being entreated by one of his Pe∣nitents to teach him to pray, Be humble and obe∣dient, saith he, and the Unction of the H. Spirit will teach thee. He advised men to follow those inspirations God gave them at times of Prayer; as if he incited them to contemplate on the Passion of Christ, it were not fit to fly from it, to the Mistery of the Resurrection; no nor to desist from prayer, if their desires were not presently granted; but courageously to persevere, till they obtained their suits. He affirmed, that if in Prayer any one found his minde quiet and at ease, it signified either that what was asked was already bestowed, or without fail would be very speedily. He wished his Sons to be ambitious of performing the greatest services for the love of Christ, not contenting themselves with any mean degrees of Piety; but outvying (in Charity for example) if it were possible, the Apostles Peter and Paul: that so, what they could not attain to in in the work, they might in some sort arive at, in their intentions. Further, he warned them who gave themselves much to Prayer, not too earnestly or too long to gaze on holy pi∣ctures, both because it did offend the brain, and brought on illusions. To such as lay under any spirituall aridity, he prescribed this remedy; that they should prostrate themselves before God and his Saints like beggars, craveing with e∣quall importunity and desires their sacred Alms

as the ordinary sort of Poor do corporal food: and therefore they should resort sometimes to one Church sometimes another, as it were to beg mens Charity from door to door. He coun∣selled young Persons to meditate especially on the four last things; saying that, Those who went not to Hell in their life time, were in great danger of going thither at their deaths. He willed his humbly to recommend themselves to the prayers of others: and at no hand to omit Evening Prayer, and the Whippings used in the Oratory. A man without the use of Prayer, he said, was to be rank∣ed among the Beasts.

When the Physitian once en∣joyned him to forbear his Meditation a while, for his health; after a few dayes, Wretch••d I, said he, who am already, me thinks, degenerated into a Brute beast! Lastly he averred, that the devil dreaded no∣thing so much as Prayer, and therefore laboured to his uttermost to disturbed it.

CHAP. VI. His Zeal for the saving Souls.

AS this H. man was thus enflamed with fervent Love to God, so he burned with vehement desires of assisting his Neighbour; addicting himself wholly to the converting Souls. Therefore he sought to endear every one to him by offices of a∣mity, and affection; and he that once came to him, could hardly afterward be kept from him. Lewd and debauched Persons, he, like a pious Father, first wan to leave Mortall sins, so by insensible degrees to bring them to that Mark of perfection he aimed at.

One came to him once intending to disburden himself of the Load of his sins, though so ensnared in old habits of evil, that scarce a day passed, where∣in he fell not into some offence; him Philip enioined no other Penance but to come and confesse his faults to him, as soon as ever he committed them. He did so; and still as he came the Father imposed no other punishment: and so! in a few moneths the Penitent took courage, and so manfully resisted, aspiring unto Christian perfection, that Philip himself te∣stified of him, that he came neer unto the purity of the H. Angels themselves.

With the same spirit of meekness he reclaimed a most dissolute youth bidding him only to salute the B. Virgin a dayes, with the Antheme that begins Salve Regina; and kissing the ground say to him∣self, By to morrow I may be dead. Which he per∣forming accordingly, in short space attained to a vertuous course of life, 14. years after dying by all likelihood in a happy condition.

Another of a very bad life came to confession to Philip, and after Absolution according to the custom of his countrey would have given him mony but having none about him, Pardon me, Father saith he, I want mony: He smiling said, Alas Son it shall serve me insteed of Mony, that you come again to me next Saturday, The Penitent did so, and won by the Sweetness of the H. man soon proved a good Con∣vert.

John Thomas Arena, one steelled with impudence went sometimes to S. Hieroms Oratory, not to re∣ceive benefit by the excellent Sermons there, but to deride the Preachers: which they of the Society not endureing complain to Philip, who told them, Sons, let him alone, and ye shall shortly see what God

will do. Well, the young continued thus shame∣lesly affronting them, till on a sudden reflecting on his villanous course, and relenting, he resigned up himself absolutely to the B. Fathers commands: soon after in a holy Zeal entring a house of the Do∣minicans, where he died in his Noviceship.

Pet. Focilius a Neopolitane, a rare Wit, but som∣thing picquant and excessive in jesting, very diffi∣culty and in a manner by force was brought by his companions to the Oratory; where espying himself eyed by Philip with a look percing as the keenest javelin, yet he staid out the whole Service, with which he was so taken, that presently his minde changeing, when he came out of the Church he seemed a new man. Afterwards he came often to the Father to confession, who rejecting him, heard o∣thers Confessions, but bid him be gon. Two moneths together he constantly came; at last He took his Confession, and in a little while by the blessing of God reduced him to an eminency in vertue. He foretold him, that he should dy in great want; and was not mistaken; for he, who in his youth had a most plentiful fortune, was in his age brought to such scarcity, as he hardly had Bread to keep him a∣live: yet as he had lived religiously, so he dyed.

A Priest, one honourably descended, had very fair revenews from an Ecclesiasticall Benefice, yet went brave and in coloured cloaths like a Lay-man. Him a young di••ciple of Philips (as they both walk∣ed in the Cloyster at S. Maries supra Minervam) spying tels him, Sir, be pleased to know, there useth to come hither a Priest named Philip, whom if you but once speak with, you were a happy man. The Priest, liking his motion, consents, waits his coming, speaks with him. The good man said nothing to him, save

that he should go to S. Hieroms to hear the Sermons: he did; went every day: mean while though Phi∣lip conferred much and oft with him, yet not a word passed concerning his Garbe, or tonsure, his chief care was, to breed Remorse in him. When behold! some sixteen days after, he voluntarily lays a way his Lay-habit, comes to him shaven, con∣fessed his sins from the first dawning of Reason in him; surrenders himself intirely to the R. Father, and being made one of his Sons travelled apace in his pursuit after Holiness, till at length full of years, he died, a little before Philips Canoniza∣tion.

With like tenderness of Spirit and zeal of chari∣ty did he reduce great numbers to Christ; inso∣much that it grew a saying among many; As the Load-stone attracts Iron, so doth Philip, Souls: others cryed, Happy the day and hour wherein I was first ac∣quainted with Philip. For, the Reverend and Pru∣dent Man liked not those, who laid down the way of vertue too difficult, and laborious to their Penitents; for that, being thereby discouraged with the tedi∣ousness of it, either they would not enter upon't, or soon retreat.

And therefore he never much inveighed against those garish dresses worn by women, but letting that pass, laboured chiefly to make them in love with Christ; knowing that if once the flames of Divine Love were kindled in them, of themselves they would cast off all such lightnesses. When a Noble Lady once asked him, whether it were any offence for her to help her low Stature by wearing Chapines; his answer was, Take heed, you fall not. One of his Scholars wore a Collar plaited in great folds, He gently taking him about the neck told

him, I should hugg you oftner, but that that these wrin∣kles hurt my fingers: and by this means both the the Lady left off her high Shoes; and the young man his fine Colars ever after.

From the same exuberant Charity it was, that his Chamber-door stood always open to all comers, reserving for himself neither time, nor place; yea though he were sick, yet did he admit any and at any hour. Many times when he was a bed disposed to sleep, he refused not to hear the Confessions of as many as came, not enduring that any one should go away from him sad or disquieted. Therefore he charged his Disciples never to say; Philip is a∣sleep, or retired to his Chamber: taking it very ill, if any tarried never so little for his coming, for which he often and soundly too chid Gallonius and others. And if the Fathers objected, that he too freely exposed himself to all commers, he replied, I would have you know, that by spending whole dayes and nights for them, and no other way, have I brought unto Christ, those who at this day are the most forward in his service.

Hence was it, that he boggled not at the unsea∣sonableness of weather, rain, cold, heat, nor the hazarding his own life for the saving souls. It was told him once, how a young Noble person went in danger of his life by haunting the company of a principal Lady in the City, on whom he was de∣sperately enamoured; and though some of emi∣nent rank had attempted, but in vain, to change his resolution, yet Philips diswasions prevailed so with him, that he not only desisted from his purpose, but ever after avoided her house; and if at any time the Coach that carried him made thitherwarap excusing himself to the Company he would leap out, and take another way.

Thus the Servant of Christ, becoming all things to all, in a care of every ones Salvation, caught both poor and rich, noble and ignoble, learned and ignorant, young and old, men and women, suting his baits to each of them till they were drawn to Christ: whereby he so endeared his own to him, that some of them came to him almost every day, some again for 30 or 40 years visited him twice aday, viz. mornings and evenings, all whom he welcomed with large expressions of kindness and affection: so that his Chamber, not without cause, was termed, The School of Sanctity, and Christian mirth. And, though there wanted not some that blamed him for it, men of otherwise able judgment and integrity, yet he both learnt by experience and taught it his, That men are more Kindly and more easily brought to Christ by gentle and fair▪ means, than roughness and Severity,

Yet when need was, he knew how to shew his Au∣thority, and use rigour. For, being sent for to do some good upon a malefactor that was to be hanged, and comming into the Chappell, where he lay roaring on the ground; he, led by a Divine hand, catching him by the throat and dashing him against the floor, cried aloud to him, Peace; at which word he became silent, trembled, and was converted; and soon after confessed twice to one who came to him, dying very patienly.

CHAP. VII. His singular prudence in governing Youth.

PHilip well understanding that in the Proverbs; Adolescens juxta viam suam, &c. Train up a child in the way he should goe, and when he is old he will not depart from it: bestowed speciall care and pains in reclaiming young persons, preventing sin in them, and promoting them in the studies of Ho∣lyness. For which cause, he was not ashamed, though he were stricken in years, and through continuall extream labour decay'd in strength to lead them in troops along with him, and march through the Streets: disputing with them in the severall arts and Sciences, they were versed in; that so ingrati∣ating himself with them, he might have them at his beck: oft would he take them to the Highest and stateliest places about the City, where they might best have a most pleasant view. of it; there did he play at Quoits with them, a sport invented by him. After which himself retiring from them to a place more remote, he read with meditation a little Book of the Passion.

If any of his neglected frequently the Oratory, or the use of Sacraments, he presently sent for them, and with all tenderness and respective love won them to their wonted exercices again; Whereupon they many times proved more zealous in the Wor∣ship of God.

His succesfull pains in training up Youth was so famed among the Regulars, that the Superiors would send their Novices to him for directions, as he thought best. Sundry times in the year he

led all the Novices of the Dominicans to the 7 Church∣es; and sometimes to beautifull green Plots where they were merry and dined; He, Good man, over∣joy'd that they had so handsomely, and withall harmlesly, recreated both their bodies and minds; saying oft to them as they were at dinner, Eat, my Sons, eat and make no scruple now; for it doth me good to see you cheerful and pleasant. After dinner sitting on the ground he excited them to all sorts of Vertue, but especially to Constancy and Perseverance. So the day being spent, he brought them home from their innocent recreations.

He was singular in tolerating the sports and pas∣times of Children; who played close by his cham∣ber, making a noise both with their tongues, and hands, and that almost every day; yet he an aged man, and full of thoughts about important affairs, endured all with patience. Yea if any reproved them for it, at any time, if it came to his ear, he re∣turned them this mild answer, Go, play; this only I desire of you, sin not.

A Noble man that used to come often to him, on a time hearing this bustle asked Philip how he could endured such a stir, who answered, Though they cl••ft wood upon my back, I could bear it willingly, so they will forbear sinning. to which purpose, one of the prime men in all the City, calling to mind how friendly Philip formerly had used him, told his companion weeping; When I was young and went much to Father Philip, I remember I was never polluted with any deadly sin, but as soon as ever I left him, I fell fouly into this wretched kind of life, you see me in.

Moreover the H. man would have young people by all means cheerfull; being offended, when he saw

any sad; therefore he would strike them a box on the ear sometimes bidding them, Be merry: saying that, Those who were naturally pleasant were more tractable in the way of vertue, than the melancholique. Two Capuchins, an old and a young man, came one time to him, who looking upon them, and con∣ceiving the younger, to have made farther progress in Piety, he purposed to make triall of his spirit; so, taking occasion, for that he had spit undecent∣ly in his presence, he began to reprehend him sharply and looking angrily at him bid him, Hence away Sloven, where were you bred? and taking off his Shoe made as if he would hit him on the head. But he retaining the same chearfullness of counte∣nance, held his peace, and gave him the hearing. The Elder of them, unconcerned rhe while, took it hainously, as being naturally sad. But Philip not satisfyed with once chiding, went on, Off with your Cloak, for you are not worthy to walk the Streets in such a habit. With all my heart, said he, especially having well dined to day, and being not as yet acold. Philip at that seeming to be more enraged, thrust him forth of the Chamber, who bore all patiently and without shew of dislike took his leave and de∣parted. No sooner was he gone, but the H. man calling him again, hugging and embracing him said, Cheer up, my Son, go on in this sprightly and cheerful temper, for by this means you will soon attain to the top of Perfection: and so dismissed him.

But though the R. Father approved of plesancy, and alacrity in young folks; yet abhorred he light jests, ridiculous mirth, and the spirit of railing; saying that, Scurrility kept divine inspirations from entring, and by degrees quenched the good Spirit, if any were.

He loved to have the younger sort busy still and employed about somthing, and therefore would bid them either sweep the room, or make the bed, or carry a trunk or table to one place or other; som∣times read, otherwhiles string beads for Rosaries, and such like; that so they might never be assot∣ted with idleness, a vice he was alwayes an enemy unto.

He was rather desirous likewise, that they should frequent the Sacrament of Penance, then of the Al∣tar; and gave two reasons for it. First, because-when we receve the H. Communion, saith he, we are subject to more violent assaults of the Devill, which young men are foiled by, as not steady or confirmed in their vertuous purpose, and so do the greater indig∣nity to the Sacrament. A second was; for that the more earnestly we long after and pursue, the more reve∣rently and devoutly we approach to this heavenly re∣flection. Therefore if any of his at any time de∣sired leave to communicate oftner, he would say, Sitientes, siitientes venite ad aquas, Come ye thirsty, ye thirsty come to the waters.

At Shrovetide, the better to restrain them from publique Shews, he gave order to have some Reli∣gious Actons of sacred Story represented. And upon this ground wisely instituted that laudable Custome of visiting the seven Churches of the City about that time.

And to preserve them unspotted from all impu∣rity, he advised them, not to be alone in their Chambers after dinner; but meet together to re∣fresh their minds with some vertuous communica∣tion: affirming that that time was the Noon-day de∣vill mentioned by the Royall Prophet. One thing allso he seriously pressed them to, that they should

avoid the touching of one another, as they would the Plague; under whatever pretence of either kindred or kindnesse to each other: and that two alone should not be together in a place, especially that were both of an Age; which thing he enjoyn∣ed to be observed most strictly, principally between the two Sexes. A certain Boy and his Sisters used to play together, which having once or twice discover∣ed to his Confessor, he warned him ever after to for∣bear it. The Lad knowing his own innocency, was troubled that his Confessor should urge it so much upon him: and being bid to consult Philip, he ac∣quaints him with it: who asked him, what he stu∣died? Logick saith he: Then know, said Philip, the Devil is a subtile Logician, who can teach men crafti∣ly to abstract and say, she is a woman, not Sister. He straight acknowledged the inference, and thence forward left to sport himself with his Sisters.

CHAP. VIII. His care for the Sick and Dying.

WHen any of his fell sick, he constantly visited them; using at his entring into the Room to desire those that were present to joyn with him in Prayer a while. And if they were dangerously ill, he never left them, till either they died or mended.

Sebastian a Musitian of the Castle of S. Angelos, one of Philips Sons, and a very devout religious man, was sick of a disease that killed him; as he lay drawing on, the Devill appeared to him in an ugly and terrible shape, which apparition so af∣frighted

him, that he in a despair of mercy cried out, O miserable wretch that I am! O wo is me! now hath God * 1.10 forsaken me, now am I consigned to Hels eternal flames, wo unto me forlorn creature! wo unto me! When he had lamented thus sad∣ly some two hours, and found comfort from none▪ they called for the Curate of the Parish, whom the sick party would by no means see or hear, but saying he was undone, protested he gave no credit at all to the Priest. Those of the house dismayed hereat sent for Philip, who hying thither, as soon as ever he set his foot within the Chamber, asked, What's the matter? what's the matter? Fear nothing. He presently being put in hopes at that, cries aloud; Father Philip chaseth the Devils; they fly, and Phi∣lip drives them before him. O miraculous power of Philip! Live Christ for ever, Live Philip, by whom I am recovered from the Pit of Hell; let the Oratory flourish. And then filled with consolation he sang some of the H. Lauds; at last stretching forth his hands, he broke out into these words, Behold the Angells, behold the Archangels! reckoning up the severall Quires; and in September on the Vigil of the Archangel S. Michael, he breathed out his Soul in the arms of the H. Father.

Persianus Rosa, Philips Confessor, being like∣wise very sick, was grievously assaulted by the Devil, and in the midst of his conflicts and temptations would * 1.11 say, Tu judica me Deus, tu dis∣cerne causam meam: Judge me ô God, and plead my cause. Lying on his bed, for

fear tumbling to and fro. Meanwhile in comes Philip whom Persian looking on, said Holy Philip pray for me; adding, O thou Servant of God drive away, I beseech thee, that foul look'd dog that leaps upon me, lest I be torn in pieces, he forthwith kneel∣ing down, desires those that were by to pray with him. Scarce had he bowed the knee, but Per∣sian cryed out, God be thanked the dog is gone, the dog is fled, see he stands at the door. So rising from Prayer, he sprinkled both the sick man and his cham∣ber with H. water; and the devils being expelled, the next day he quietly and joyfully died.

Gabriel Tana of Modena, one of Cardinal Politians Gentlemen, and of Philips first Scholars, who confes∣sed his sins twice a week, and received the Sacrament; fell mortally sick when he was 18 years old: and having bin ill about * 1.12 20 dayes, and now about to dye; the devil instigating him there∣to, he began most vehemently to wish he might recover his health. Philip coming every day to see him, asks him how he did; Ʋery well said he, for I hope I shall out grow this disease. He foreseeing his death, said to him, My son, give me your Will and your Nill, that when the Tempter comes you may answer, my Consent or Dissent is no more in my hands, but Christs. Gabriel assented; and Philip departed. When Mass was done, he returns to the sick person, and finds his mind changed; inso∣much as he that a little while since was too desirous to live, now said with the Apostle, Cupio dissolvi, &c. I desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ: and putting the Crucifix to his brest and kissing it: he ex∣horted them that stood by to contemn the gaudy

vanities of the world; Believe me, said he, I dis∣dain life, I desire heaven; Pray therefore, Father, that God would satisfie my longings, and before the fifth hour of the night I may fly hence unto my Saviour, You shall, replied the Father, obtain your requests, yet let me advertise you of this, that the Devil will use many stratagems to undo you; telling them all to him; and when he had done went his way, that he might give himself to Prayer. An hour after Philip was gone, comes the Enemy and tempts the Young man to presumption on his own worth; of which this was a mark. The Letanies for the dy∣ing, as the custome is, were rehearsing, and when they came to those words, A mala morte libera eum Domine: Free him from an ill death ô Lord, Gabriel smiled, and shaking his head said; O he cannot dye amiss who carries Christ in his heart; when present∣ly perceiving the wiles of the subtile Fiend, I be∣seech you saith he, pray to Christ for me, for what I spake just now, was by suggestion of the devil. No sooner was he rid of that temptation, but the ad∣versary redoubling his blows, labours with all his might to keep him from uttering the H. name of Jesus: thereupon he cries out; Alas, Brethren, I cannot possible express that which I most desire. What is that? said they, doth the Devil hinder you from mentioning the name of Jesus? At which he nodded, as being so: then they replyed Keep Jesus in your mind and that is enough. In the encounter he was fain to summon up all his powers, so that what with per∣plexity of minde and motion of his body, he was all in a sweat. Then was Philip fetch'd, who shewing the B. Crucifix, whispers softly in his ear the most delicious and sacred Name of Jesus; which he oft repeated freely and readily at his pleasure:

yet did not the wicked spirit depart; for not long after he sought to seduce him from the Catholique Faith; perswading him, that he should escape this sickness, all which he related to Philip, who bids him, Slight my Son, slight those Satanical cheats, and say the Creed with me. He pronounced the words often over, but seemed to himself not to pro∣nounce them; which Philip perceiving bids those that were present rehearse the Symbol of the Apostles, which done, straight the temptation ceased. The sick person the while recollecting himself and re∣suming courage defies his enemy in these expressi∣ons, whether thou wilt or no, O thou damned apostate I do believe. At last the wily Tempter storms him afresh and more fiercely, employing his utmost to engulf him in a Hell of desperation. So assuming a deformed shape, he appears with a dreadfull aspect to the sick man, who appalled at the spectacle trem∣bled every joint of him, changing his colour, rolling his eyes, and unable to maintain his standing, roars out in bitterness of Soul, O caytive that I am! ah what a number of horrid crimes have I committed? Beat away, Father, beat away those ugly Curres. Whereupon Philip laying his hand on the Patients head, thus bespake the Devil; And O thou Monster darest thou still oppose▪ I command thee hence immedi∣ately, for these very hands have this morning handled the H. Body of Christ; and turning to the sick party, Take courage my Son, said he, and say with me Discedi∣te a me, &c. Depart from me all ye workers of iniquity; which being done twice or thrice, Gabriel for joy cried out, The Dogs run away at Philips bidding: and pointing to them with his finger, do ye not see, saith he, with what speed they fly? we have overcome, O good God, we have overcome. Then turning his

eyes to the Crucifix he began to pray to our Savi∣our with such devotion, that all the standers by fell a weeping, and taking it in his hand, lifting up his head, he uttered many pious speeches; at length triumphing over the Devil, he upbraids his cowardise; but Philip fearing lest by these intensions of his mind his end possibly might be hastned, bad him, Peace, now peace, and be quiet, let us leave the divel. He was silent instantly, and the by-stan∣ders hearing him speak so heartily conceived he would live to the next day; but Philip told them, No, he will not, for as soon as ever he stirs but out of his place, he will depart straight. Scarce half an hour after he turned him on his right side, and naming the B. Name of Jesus, dyed.

James Marmita, one of the forenamed Cardinalls Secretaries, a man eminent for prudence, learning, piety, and of Philips familiar acquaintance, being now in the last stage of his life, and through the in∣firmity of frail flesh fearing to dye, greatly com∣plained of the violence of his disease. Philip, who was by, bid him, Be of good cheer, and imploring the Divine aid, say, Deus noster refugium, &c. God is our refuge, and strength, a very present help in trouble: he did, adding these words following, Quae invenerunt nos nimis: which as soon as he heard he went to prayer, and continued there not long, be∣fore Marmita, b••ing marvelously cheared, peacea∣by departed.

Nicolas Lilius, Priest of the Congregation, almost at last gasp encountring with the devil, thus obtained victory over * 1.13 his adversary. Philip was saying Mass, it seems in the little room a∣bove mentioned; and praing more fervently than

usually, on the sudden great noises were heard o∣ver the Dining-room, as if huge stones had bin hurled too and fro: Philip then alone in the Chap∣pell, calls Petrus Consolinus, and bids him, Go and bring him word how Nicolas doth: away goes he, and finds him sick, with his hands clasped and lift up to heaven, reiterating these words; Gratias a∣gamus Domino Deo nostro; accessit, recessit, victus est. Let us give thanks to our Lord God, he came, he is gone, he is overcome. Consolinus informs Philip of all; who as his fashion was, said, 'Tis enough; and hyes him straight to Nicolas, who looking on him wistly, asked him passionatly, Ah, Father, why was not I acquainted with you before? Why Father, thus late? intimating hereby, that he had learnt sufficiently in that combat, what prevalency and favour Philip had with God. Lilius was a Frenchman by birth, one to be admired for his strange contempt of himself, far from the love of terrene things, from doting on his friends or kinred, insomuch as when their letters were brought him he would throw them unread in∣to the fire. He was of a wonderfull patience in hear∣ing Confessions; and foretelling the day of his own death, after he had lived 20 Years in the Congre∣gation, deceased: whom Philip so exceedingly va∣lued, that he kept his goods instead of Reliques, as an argument of his incomparable Vertue.

Carolus Mazzaeus likewise, one of Philips Sons being at the point of death, sustained shrew'd con∣flicts by the temptations of the Devill: for an e∣vil angell presented himself to him in his sickness; and that he might sink him in the Gulf of despair, laid open before him all his wickedness committed; whom the sick party answered twice together only thus, I appeal to Philip; and straight the Devil va∣nished:

and Charles soon after very quietly depart∣ed. Philip averred his Soul went to heaven: af∣firming that if a sick person disputed with the devil a∣ny while, he was sure to be surprized by his sleights. By this time it was sufficiently known, that as soon as the B. man set but his foot within the chamber of the sick, and asked, Who is here? the devils im∣mediatly fled away; so that divers when they lay a dying sent for Him.

And not only to his friends and acquaintance, but even to his very enemies did this Good Old man discharge these offices of Charity. Among others, he had one inveterate adversary, whom he was not suffered to visit: so one day after Mass retiring into the Vestry, he said, I felt my self much constrained at Mass, to pray for N. And it was found, that the same hour Philip said Mass, the man fell sick of a disease whereof he died. Him the H. man loved so well that if any chanced to speak of him, he would weep, out of his tender compassion.

To this purpose, he in the last place forewarned men of two things; one was, that those who lay a dying were rather to be assisted by the strength of Prayer, than store of words: the other, that men should not spend their Verdicts lightly either about the Patients recovery or death. He said, he knew some that were mightily displeased at the amendment of such as they had doom'd for death.

CHAP. IX. He comforts the Afflicted.

BEsides the special care He took in helping such as were sick in body, He likewise miraculously

raised up such as were dejected in spirit and op∣pressed with sundry temptations.

Marcellus Benejus Politianus was in danger of committing a grievous sin; his Confessor wished him to seek help of Philip: and as he was opening his case to the H. man, he felt himself eased of his trou∣ble, by that time he had ended his relation.

Antonius Fantinius a vertuous good man, who lived by Merchandise, and for about 30. years or more confessed almost daily to the H. Father having married a yong Wife sharply checked a Noblemans Servant, for blemishing his honour, and threatned to kill him: the Servant not yet forbearing, he vowes to embrue his hands in his blood. Three dayes after upon the return of some Festival, as his manner was, he comes to Philip to Confession; shews him the in∣dignities he had suffered, and his purpose of killing the Servant; the Good man laying his hand on him said no more but, Go: and presently all thoughts of committing the murder forsook him; and, which was yet more strange, that Servant never after durst walk near his house.

A certain yong man, who lately entertained Phi∣lip for his Confessor, could by no meanes be brought to forgive one that had offended him, though the Father used severall arguments to change his obsti∣nate mind, but he grew every day more inflexible than other. At last Philip taking up a Crucifix in a holy Passion said to him; Look here, thou wretched creature, and see the blood Christ shed for thee, not on∣ly pardoning those who crucified him, but begging mer∣cy also of his Father for them. Fall down therfore upon thy knees: using at that instant some speeches that strangely represented to him the hardness of his heart, and made impression upon him, so that the

Youth kneeled down astonished; at length rising up on the sudden, Father, saith he, Paratum cor meum, &c. My heart is ready, my heart is ready, I forgive all the injury, tell me what I shall do. By which means the R. and Religious Father, wisely re∣gained his Son.

Petrus Focilius, spoken of elswhere, being shrewd∣ly chid by Philip for neglecting a business entrusted to him, took it very heinously, and began to mut∣ter to himself, Ha! what's this? Is their never ano∣ther confessor in this City but he? and away he went and got him another Priest, but the first time he confessed to him he was taken with such a sore Me∣lancholy that he could have no rest, or quiet: till Philip who knew all that had passed, three dayes after sent a messenger to him, at the news where∣of he found himself restored to his former peace; and running joyfully to his Father at the very sight of the B. Old man broke out into tears. But Philip after his wonted manner, putting his head to his brest mildly chargeth him with his disobedience, to whom Peter answered, You shall never, Father, hereafter, never find me guilty in this kind again, for from my Soul I promise you, that my actions shall mani∣fest me every way answerable to my expressions. And as he spake it the temptation ceased.

A certain Woman was almost 4 moneths, misera∣bly afflicted with a violent temptation. Her Con∣fessor advised her to acquaint Philip therewith, who seeing her said, O poor Soul! thou art afflicted indeed: for none can lightly have a sorer temptation, than that thou art tormented with: at which she being a∣mazed that he should know the secrets of her heart (for she had discovered her mind to none) fell down at his feet; he laying his hand on her head, and

trembling as he used to do, said, Be of good cheer, Daughter, I must say Mass and I will pray for thee then: and the same instant that he went away her temptation left her.

Mutius Achileus, of S. Severines, observing that when he Confessed to the H. man, he knew his very thoughts, became such an exceeding honourer of him, that returning into his Country he would en∣terprise no difficult action before he advised with him by letters: nay he had so high an opinion of his Sanctity, that he recommended himself to his Prayers, as if being deceased he had been Sainted: and not in vain, for coming up to the City once, and falling into Tyber from a steep rock, upon his de∣vout invocating the assistance of Philip, he was sud∣denly secured from the danger. The same person testifies, that as oft as he but in thought addressed himself to him, he was freed of all trouble of temp∣tations: as also others witness they were, by bare imposition of his hand, and some, only by calling on his Name.

But He not only helped the needy in matters of their Souls, but in secular businesses and things of the World. Julius Petrucius an honourable Per∣son of Siena, and intimate with S. Carlo, hearing the same of Philips holiness, being involved in much intricacy of affaires, comes to him, hoping he might aid him some way, and was not deceived, for discovering his condition to him, he found him∣self quit of his trouble: whereupon putting him∣self under his obedience, he never after went from him, but continuing in the Religious services of the Oratory, even to a great age, left behind an excellent Pattern of Vertue for his Companions to follow.

Bernardine Cotta, and Gerard Caraccio, con∣tended,

as for life, to be the Popes Apothecary; insomuch as Antonia Gerards Sister coming to the B. man told him all, who answered as he was wont, 'Tis enough, Go, be confident, I will say Mass and pray for you, As he said Mass the Woman stood by him and going home finds the quarrell between her Brother and his Rivall peacably composed, and her Brother in possession of the office; all which she at∣tributed to the Fathers prayers.

John Baptista Magnanus lost a vast sum of Money at Dice, so that he grew into despair upon it, and as he was walking, lighting on Philip, the H. man though he had never seen his face very courteously taking him by the hand, bid him Have a care, do not despair, Confess your sins and God will help you. So, bringing him to S. Hieroms, as soon as he had taken his Confession, laying his hand on his head, he reduced him to his former cheerfulness and quiet; so that considering what had befallen him, he pro∣claimed it to all he met, saying Philippus vere magnus, Philippus vere sanctus: O right great, right good Philip!

Boetius Junta of Senogallia being sore troubled in mind, came to S. Hieroms to cnofession; and seeing Philip fitting there, kneeling down and crossing himself begins his Confession. At which the H. man looking up to heaven said, Indeed this soul is in grevious perplexity: and adding nothing more, he was miraculously released of all his anguish and tribulation.

Bartholom. Manticus a Priest of Rome, who revised and corrected the Errors of the Press for Baronius's Annals, hearing that his Father was taken by the Bandits, in his heaviness of spirit repairs to the H. man, relating the hard misfortune of his Father, He bid him doubt nothing, for no harm shall befall him.

The next day the Priest tels Philip how the Bandits threatned to kill his Father, unlesse he ransomed himself at 1500 Crowns; he hearing that pitied the man, bidding him, Go to the Capuchins Covint, and recommend your Fathers sad condition to their Prayers. It is saith Manticus, sufficiently presented to them already. What stay you for then? said he, God who best knows how to succour his, will doubtlesse return you your Father safe. In brief, within a few days Manticus received letters, that his Father had made an escape in a very strange manner.

A Lady of Noble extract being much perplexed about living a Recluse, according to her profession made, upon a letter of the H. mans, received such satisfaction, that as she said, she was much pleased with her course of life, and would not change places with any Queen upon earth.

Prudentia Diaz, a Roman Matron of quality, mo∣lested with multiplicity of cares so that she could neither read nor pray quietly, and, which grieved her more, could gain no comfort from her Confessor; at length by his directions applies her self to Philip who before ever she spok word to him, told her all she meant to say, and laying his right hand on her head whispers a few short prayers, then signing her with the Cross dismissed her. Scarce had the B. man done, but the woman departed replinished with joy.

The like hapned to Livia Vestria Ʋrsina a devout woman, who being sent to Philip for ease of her sorrows had scarcely re∣lated * 1.14 her troubles which for 6 moneths together disquieted her mind; but at the H. man saying meerly, It is nothing, she was freed of those passions not only for that pre∣sent, but all the days of her life.

Camillus Pamphilius studying all night about a certain difficulty, at his going to Philip when day dawned, was quit of his pensiveness in these words, I was with you to night and helped you. This was Fa∣ther to Pope Innocent X. Last of all Hieron. Pamphilius Cardinal, and brother to Camillus, left upon record this testimony of the R. Father;

In all my af∣fairs and anxious sollicitude, as soon as I betook me to his Prayers and Counsel, I was assoiled of all my scruples; insomuch as I feared nothing, as oft as he but pray'd for me.

CHAP. X. He frees divers of Scruples of minde.

HE was excellent at removing niceties and doubts, and allaying the several passions of the minde, as will appear upon a Survey of these following in∣stances. A Noble Roman for certain reasons retir'd into a Monastery of S. Gregory's ad clivam Scauri, who, as a Corpse was carrying to Church to be bu∣ried, one that was possess'd following the Bier, as soon as the Funeral Rites were ended, taking the distempered person aside, began with an itching cu∣riosity to ask him many questions about certain matters, with whom after he had talked a while, he with a dreadful look, and thundering voice cries out, And you also are possest. At which the man fell into such horrour, that fearing indeed he was possest by the Devil, he sent presently for a Priest, and had the Exorcisms of the Church read to him: when being adjured of the Priest about his name, he repeats the names of divers Devils, so that many supposed him really possessed. But the strength of

the Melady encreasing by the continual reciting the Exorcisms, he committed himself to four of the ablest Physicians in the City for cure, who the more ex∣periments they tryed, the more his distemper was augmented, that he fell away to a mere skeleton. So leaving the Doctors, and going on a time to Tur∣ris speculorum, relating to a Sister in the Monastery there, which was allied to him, the whole story; she willed him to ask counsel of Philip, living then at Vallicella; but he being bashful, and not daring to go himself to the R. Father, she importuned Phi∣lip, if the pains were not too much, to repair (of his goodness) to the young man; who frankly consented, and being come, affirmed that he was not at all possessed with any impure Spirit; then com∣mands him with Gallonius, whom he took with him for company, to sing, and drive away Melancholly with some witty recreation: withall bids him come sometimes to Vallicella. The young man did so, when the Father kindly receiving him put his head to his breast, asking him how he did: who answered he was well. Then Philip advised him to disburden his conscience by a general Confession of his sins; which he quickly did, and afterward came daily to Philip, by frequent converse with whom, he attain∣ed to perfect health, without either the Physicians medecines, or the Priests Exorcisms. One thing may not be passed by, that whilst he made his gene∣ral Confession, unable to shake off that strong imagi∣nation setled in him, that the Devil had seized on him, he pressed Philip to Exorcise him; to whom the Father, Doubt nothing, at night I will. Herewith the man was satisfyed, and one night as he was a∣sleep, he seemed to himself to disgorge a great mul∣titude of Devils forth at his mouth; and ever after

lived quietly, free from any such troublesome ap∣prehensions.

Dominicus Saracenus one of the notedst Physicians in the City, falling into a most tedious Melanchol∣ly, and having tryed all remedies of Art, was strongly opinioned, that by the merits of Philip he should recover his health. To him therefore goes he; the Physician for Physick: to whom Philip as his custome was, said, Doubt not, you will do well a∣gain: by which alone without any other help, he was absolutely cured of that distemper of his mind. The same hapned also to a noble Personage, one of the Grandees of the Roman Court, who languishing away in extream heaviness, at his only saying, De∣spair not, recovered his former courage.

No less re••••rked was he, for removing those an∣xious Jealousies, arising out of the excess of Reli∣gion, termed ordinarily Scruples, Julian Fuscherius a most vertuous Priest of S. Hieroms a Charitate had a certain Penitent that was tormented with these Passions in such wise as he could not use Sa∣cramental Confession for them; and having sent him to divers pious and skilful men for help, but in vain, at length he bethought him of Philip: who at first sight eying him stedfastly said, I understand well your case, you are assaulted sore by the Devil: for he discerned that these Scruples proceeded from a secret Spirit of pride in the Penitent. Thereupon he questioned him before Fuscherius after this sort: Have you courage enough to confess your sins to two at once? he answered, I have. Then Philip, Kneel down, and begin the Confession of all your sins. He did, and the Father having taken his Confession, bid him, Kiss the Earth and shame the Devill: which done, he immediately enjoyed his former peace of

conscience, and confessed his sins afterward devoid of those fears without disturbance.

Cardinal Frederico Borromeo witnesseth, that a certain man, who was molested with many doubt∣ings in the saying his Canonicall hours growing eve∣ry day worse, coming to Philip for cure of his in∣firmity, He bid him, Go, I will pray for you. And returning to his house without any let he repeated his office, and was never more annoyed with those fond imaginations.

Besides these, the prudent Father prescribed sun∣dry salves for such as laboured under this disease.

He said, in the first place; that such persons hav∣ing once discovered that they gave no consent, should enquire no farther as touching their Con∣sent; for the same things oft thought on would take too deep rooting in the mind. And for discerning the assent of the will, he proposed two things to be principally noted. The first, that a man should think seriously with himself, whether in time of temptation he retained the love of the opposite Vertue; for if so, he might then be sure he consented not. The second, whe∣ther he would swear that he assented, for if he say he will not swear it, he may certainly beleive in like manner that he gave no consent. Fur∣ther, to that Generall Rule usually alleged 〈◊〉〈◊〉 men expert and skill'd in these matters, viz. That we are to stand to the judgement of a Prudent Confessor absolutely in all things: he added a Speciall one of his own: That these kind of Scruples were altogether to be slighted, and nether oft, nor yet lightly be arraigned at the barr of Repentance. Therefore whensoever he perceived them to rise in his Penitents at Confession, he would bid them

come to the Sacrament even unconfessed. Lastly he concluded with that common Maxime, That this kind of malady might admit a truce for a while, but true solid peace was attainable only by Humility.

And not only did His words and advices allay these tempests of the mind, but his holy hands with the very touch thereof afforded ease and relief.

Tiberius Ricciardellus, of whom elsewhere, af∣firms that as oft as Philip did but gently pluck him by the hair, he immediately felt himself sprightly and vivacious. And Cardinal Baronius, that he was much recreated, when being a Youth the B. man did but clap him on the Cheek.

Car∣dinall Octavius Bandinus gloried in it, that the Ser∣vant of God gave him a box on the ear, when he was a stripling. And Fran. Puccius of Palestrina avou∣ches, that as oft as Philip laid his hand on his head, his heart seemed to leap and dance within him. The same do almost all others testifie, whose Confessions he was wont to hear.

Peregrinus Altobellus a Canon of S. Marks Church in Rome, could hardly be kept away from him; for as soon as ever he was in his Company he overflow∣ed with consolations: and one time when the B. man meeting him, asked him, What doest thou here good Peregrine? he was so extreamly joy'd at it, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 as though in a manner drunk with the delici∣ous gusts of the Spirit, he knew not so much as whi∣ther he went. He affirmed also, that the H. mans hands cast forth a fragrant sweetness almost continually.

Nay not only himself, and the parts of his Bo∣dy, but his very cloaths, houshold goods, Uten∣siles, and his Chamber were marvellously refresh∣ing. ••or which cause, Martius Alterius a Roman

said, that Philips Cell was rather a Paradise than a Cell. The like did Julius Benignius Archbishop of Thessalonica. Cardinall Frederic Boromeo thought himself happy, if he might only stay in his Cham∣ber. Alexander Medices, (who when he was Pope was called Leo XI.) used to go thither once or twice a week, where he spent 5 or 6 hours, sorry many times that the time went away so fast. Fabricius de Maximis, if he were oppressed with any grief or care, stood still before Philips chamber-door, and by that means alone was eased of his trouble. Last of all Nerus de Nigris, even after Philips death, found out this speciall remedy for his pensiveness and incumbrances, to repair to his Chamber.

Neither wanted there those, that meerly by looking Him in the face regained their lost joyes: for Montes Zazzara by his very Company oftimes was excedingly revived: and Rodulphus Silvestrius a Physician said, that what time he tarried but with Philip, he was most pleasantly affected and delight∣ed. Some also affirm, that even in their dreams they saw Philip instilling joy and consolations into them.

CHAP. XI. His Almes.

BUt not only to the Souls of others, but even to their Corporal necessities was He helpfull to a ••reat degree. For visiting the Poor he supplied ••hem not with money alone, but all other necessa∣••ies for preserving of health; which thing he of••en ••id unsought to, and many times fore knowing

their extreamities by a Divine instinct, aboundant∣ly furnished them with all requisites.

He relieved some unasked as oft as they needed: which he knew by supernaturall Revelation: so he gave Anton. Fantinius 16. Crowns without asking: and maintained a Nobleman with Diet and Clothes for a long time together, being reduced to extream misery. He distributed not slight but liberall Alms, both in money and other things; for when a prime Lady sent him a rich sute of furniture for a present, he sold it straight, and gave it all to the Poor.

Yea he relieved not private Persons, but whole Families with his Charity: for he kept a poor woman and 4 children with the Grand-mother four years to∣gether, sometimes sending them twenty Crowns at a time, more or lesse toward their maintenance.

He provided both apparrell and victualls for the Wife of Vincentius vulgarly called Miniator, or the Limner, of whom hereafter; she was a woman of rare Vertue, and among other her Acts of devotion confessed every day, who had lately lost her Hus∣band, the care of 6 Sons lying upon her hand: be∣sides he bought all necessaries for her Daughter▪ who was then devoting her self to a Religious life.

Further, he maintained at his own charge th•• family of Gabrielia of Cortona, a woman of admira∣ble worth, and raised a portion for her Daughte•• then marriagable at his own cost; and bestowed he•• in wedlock.

And though he opened his Bowels in bounty thu•• to all, yet did he shew himself most liberall in re∣lieving Maids. He distributed among the Necee•• of Joh. Animuccio, being in extream want, abou•• 600 Crowns, besides diet. Two Florentine Maid••

living at Rome to the perill of their Chastity, after their Parents death, he supplied with all things fitting; till a competent dowry being liberally as∣signed either of them, he sent them home into their Country to spend their days in a Monastery: he alloted them fourscore Crowns apiece to live in a Nunnery and serve God. Three other poor young Maids he gave in Marriage appointing them porti∣ons: and on one of their Husbands besides a por∣tion he bestowed a 100 Crowns: Beyond all this he undertook the charge of twenty Virgins; which a certain Widow without his knowlege had got to∣gether, when they were ready to sterve; these he kept and brought up, till each of them in time were conveniently and handsomely disposed of. Briefly, the Tables made for his Canonization do amply testifie, that by his care and direction almost an innumerable company of Maids were provided for: besides that he is by the testimony of divers averred to be the Author of the Nunnery of S. Ka∣therine de Rosa. And how should it come to pass, think we, that almost forty years after his death, we should behold in this City such Troopes of Holy Virgins warring under the Colours of Blessed Philip, were it not for his sake and merits, who while he lived, was a Patron, and Protector, to so many of them?

He went twice a week to all the Prisons, carrying them money, and when he was unfurnished some∣times for such contributions, he would put others, who were richer, upon the office. In like manner he perswaded divers Lawyers and Prelates with much importunity to undertake the Patronage of priso∣ners causes, or at least to favour them when by o∣thers undertaken: he was also very liberall to

those who, as it is in the Gospel, could not dig, and were a shamed to beg: for he full well knew, how heavy and sad a condition it is for one formerly rich and Noble to be brought to poverty and indi∣gence.

He apportion'd a monethly allowance to certain Religious Houses beside the Almes he dispensed every day. Nay more he kept the particular names, of Religious places hanging at his Chamber door, and many times sent them money.

It was his custome, if he saw any pregnant youths that for want of subsistence were forced to quit their studies, not only to find them food and ray∣ment, but buy them books too, such as were necssary for attaining liberall Arts and Sciences. Of these two so acquitted them in the profession of Learning, that for their deserts they were advanced to the dignity of Cardinals. And Antony Gallonius affirms no indigent Person ever came to him that went a way empty-handed. yea some were of opinion that He was many times furnished with money from a∣bove, some extraordinary way.

This so prodigious bounty, or profuseness ra∣ther, God was pleased to approve by most evident miracles. For going one night to carry bread to an honourable but poor man, whilest yet among the Laity, for hast to avoid a Coach that was in full speed, he fell head-long into a deep pit, when an Angel catching him by the hair of the head miracu∣lously preserved him.

About the same time an Angel met him in the likeness of a poor man, desiring an alms; to whom He offered willingly all the money he had; when the Angel seeing his good will, refusing the money told him I came but to try what you would do: and straight vanished out of fight.

For this his Charity to the poor, and care of saving souls, he was generally termed, The Father of souls and Bodies. And many after his death re∣counting with themselves the charitable Acts done by him in his life, their hearts melting in them at the remembrance thereof, could not but weep: and divers did frequently and openly affirm, Posterity would never have his equall for liberality and munifi∣cence.

Therfore Cardinal Robert Bellarmin a man re∣nowned as well for Learning, as vertue and holi∣ness, whom the H. Congregation of Rites commissio∣ned to see him entred in the Calender of Saints, perusing the evidence of publique Testimonies, and seeing such a Catologue of Charities, did not stick honourably to entitle him a Second Iohn The Almo∣ner.

A woman named Mary going to S. Peters Church that day the B. S. Francisca of Rome was Registred among the Saints, and calling to mind the Alms she had received of the H. man in his life time, the tears running down, And when, saith she, shall my Father Philip be reckoned among the Saints too? for if S. Francis carried faggots on her head about the streets to warm the Poor and needy nigh frozen with cold; my Father Philip hath come to me a hundred times laden with bread and other kind of victuals to keep me from famishing. This woman, the Good man instructed in Mentall Prayer, by teaching her to meditate largely, and dilate on the first words of the Lords Prayer; Pater Noster.

Nor was He only mercifull and compassionate, but exceeding thankfull and free.

So Cardinal Hieron. Pamphilius reports; The H. Father, when he lived, was even in the smallest matters most

gratefull to all sorts of men, and so mindfull of any good turn done him, that he ever returned more than he received. Marcus Antonius Maffa saith thus; Philip was so civil a Person, that you could scarce ever fasten any kindness upon him, which by mutuall offices he requited not more than double. It was once my lot, saith he, to present him with a thing of small worth, for which he sent me a brazen Crucflix of a great value, which I keep by me as a most precious Re∣lique, coming to me thorow his B. Hands.

Thus Maffa.

Yet although He shewed such exemplary charity to the Poor he could not endure to have them go begging about the Church: therefore sometimes would he rise from his Chair where he took Con∣fessions, and make them wait at the Church-doors: as likewise he was very carefull there should be no noise to hinder the worship of God, or disturb that silence that ought to be in the Church.

CHAP. XII. His Tender-heartedness and Compassion.

PIty grew up with him so naturally from his In∣fancy, that if he saw one in any misery or ad∣versity, it not only grieved him, but out of ten∣derness of Spirit he could hardly look him in the face: therefore though he loved not to carry mo∣ney about with him, yet did he not utterly prohi∣bit himself that conveniency, because he m••ght re∣lieve the daily necessities of the poor. He once heard of a woman, who for want of clothes could not

go to Church, and presently taking off his cloak, bad it should be carried her. If he at any time saw Boys or Girles in torne or ragged apparrel, he forthwith took order for decently clothing them.

Again if he knew of any one unjustly imprison∣ed, he never left mediating for him, till he were released. He so stoutly defended a Roman Noble∣man unto the Pope, being wrongfully accused of Murder, that he got him cleared of the Calumny. A Priest falsly impeached of heinous crimes, where∣of he knew him innocent; was through his means also delivered from the malice of his enemies. In like manner he in commiseration to certain Va∣grants or Gypsies, called by the Italians Cingari, freed them, when they were condemned to the Gallies. He also protected a Roman Lord from the wickedness of his Subjects that came to Rome to im∣plead him before Sixtus V. and accommodated the differences betwixt them.

He was exceeding charitable to poor Priests, and especially if they were forreigners. In the year 1551, there being a great dearth at Rome, Philip had six loaves brought him, which he immediately carried to a Priest that was a stranger, living himself on a few Olives: and being demanded why he kept ne∣ver a loaf for himself, replyed, Because I am better known here than he, and can shift better then a for∣reigner.

He found out divers wayes of helping Mechanicks and Artizans, such as earned their living by manu∣all trades, and could neither put of their work nor get employment. There were two Brothers, Frenchmen, very expert Watch-makers, but grown old and having a great charge of Daughters that were marriagable, for whom they could not pro∣vide

Husbands: the Good man perswades some friends of his who were well-money'd men to buy those Watches, by which means the Maids had fair Portions raised. This a certain man, one wise for himself, had observed, and seeing a wealthy person buy such store of Watches upon Philips perswasions, muttered privately, what means this waste? but finding afterward that by these sleights Philip as it were beguiled the Rich to maintaine the Poor, he was no more Offend∣ed, but thence-forward highly reverenced the B. man.

One time one of those that cry Succory about the City came to S. Hierom's to the Service of the Ora∣tory, and being very wet weather, so that it grow∣ing now toward night, the poor man could not go about the streets to sell his hearbs; the Father out of pity, that he might not go home sad, bought some of his Succory, wishing them that stood by to do the like, and so sent away the man joyfull and glad with his money in his purse.

This his tender-heartedness and compassion ap∣peared not only to reasonable creatures, but even brute beasts. One of his trod on a Lizard once, at which said he, O thou hard-hearted Wretch! what harm did that poor creature do thee? Seeing a Butcher wound a Dog with his axe, he turned a∣way his head moved with compassion, and cryed, O thou Barbarous creature! One of his Scholars brought him a Bird to delight him with the fight and singing of her: but he restored her to the hea∣ven where she was bred. When he took Coach he would charge the Coachman to hurt no living crea∣ture as he drave on the way: and if any were pre∣sented him, he would not let them be killed, but

either return them back, or keep them very care∣fully, if any came into the house of themselves, he let them forth at the Door, or the Windows without doing them any harm.

This his goodness and pity even the dumb crea∣tures through the disposall of Providence requited with manifold tokens as it were of gratitude again. Aloysius Ames a Frenchman presented Philip with two fine singing birds which he accepted, upon con∣dition that the donor would every day bring their food: the Good man desiring by this means to con∣tract further familiarity with him. So one day Ames coming suddenly into His Chamber espies one of the Birds▪ got out of the cage, fluttering about Philips face, and pleasing his eares with her delightfull tunes. The Father asks if she used to do so, No, replied he; at that Philip with a stern look beat her from him three or four times, but she would not leave, all the while chanting her pleasant notes till bidding the Cage should be brought to her, she presently flew in, as if understanding the meaning of his command. Divers instances of this nature are purposely omitted.

CHAP. XIII. His unstained Virginity.

HAving thus entreated at large of the H. mans Charity and Meekness, intending to take a view of his other Vertues in their order, the first that offers it self is his inward Purity, and Virgin-innocency. For the B. man well knowing how greatly God delights in Chastity both of Body

and Mind, employed, so soon as he came to the use of Reason, all his art and industry in quench∣ing those sparks of lust that began to kindle in him; and although by occasion of the affairs wherein he was daily exercised all his life long, he met with many temptations to dishonesty, yet preserved he the flower of his Virginity unspotted to the last.

For proof whereof, besides the undoubted pub∣lique Testimony of Cardinall Baronius, to whom the H. Father, with many tears accusing himself of unthankfullness, disclosed the secret a little before he died; and besides what Persianus Rosa his Confessor while yet a young man, averred; yea and besides the common fame that went of him al∣wayes both at Rome and Florence for his Chastity, that one might serve instead of many, which the Sacred Congregation of Rites gave concerning Him, having duly weighed the Reports of both Witnesses and Records, viz. That they had had proofs of Phi∣lips Virginity more then needed. And it is not to be forgotten, how one time He discovered as much to one of his Penitents at Confession, to procure his love also to this Vertue, and to convince him, that not only the purity of Continency, but Virginity too by the Grace of God might be preserved, as he him∣self had preserved it.

This pretious treasure he hid close under the Co∣ver of profound humility, guarding it every way by a most strict watch kept over all his Senses. For in imitation of that Great Antony, he never let any part of his body be seen naked: nor ever let fall a word that savoured of the least immodesty. He turned away his eyes from beholding vanity, insomuch that a beautiful woman, whose Confessions he took for 30 years together, affirmed, he never so much as once

looked her in the face. At first when he was Confessor he alwayes looked sowre while he spake to wo∣men, not giving them so much as a coutteous word, though in his latter years he forbore that custome.

Such and so purely white and unblemished Cha∣stity did the impure Fiend labour by all means to defile. One night forced by necessity, whilst yet a Laique, he lodged at a friends of his, where the Daughter of the house, one of a fair body, but most deformed Soul, watching a fit occasion came into the Chamber where the H. young man lay: thinking by that privacy to entice him to folly, but he Divinely assisted repulsed her impudent as∣saults, going away victor over the unclean Spirit.

About the same time certain debauched persons, not believing his Chastity to be such as the rumor bruted, sent for him on pretensions of piety, and getting him into a private room, where two lewd women were provided to entrap him, locked the door upon him: but he betaking him to his main Fort, his Prayers, expressed himself therein with such devotion and zeal, that they durst neither ap∣proach near, nor so much as once speak to him.

Being after made Priest, and appointed to take Confessions, he was more craftily assayed, as it were by Ambuscado. For a notorious Strumpet, called Cae∣sarea, hearing of his renowned Continency, and being her self very handsome, proclaims, she would effect her will on him; so pretending a desperate sickness she sends for Philip, as to take her Confession; He at first refuseth, fearing to bring a scandal on himself: for not without cause, being of those years, he alwayes denyed to come to wo∣men; but upon very much importunity, ear∣nestly longing after the good of Souls, he went;

when no sooner was he entred within the doors, but the audacious harlot meets him with a transparent Veil cast over her naked body: he perceiving the subtil wiles of the Devil, crossing himself turns his back on her, and leaping down staires breaks a∣way. She finding her self cozen'd of her expecta∣tion, takes a stool up and throws after him with all her might to hit him, but in vain: so the Servant of Christ by Gods providence escaped the danger both of Soul and Body.

This resolution of his for preserving his Chastity God so rewarded, that he never after felt himself annoyed with inclinations to Lust, or illusions of the night. Insomuch as he told Baronius once: Be assured Caesar, if any such thing should befall me, though asleep, I should even dye for grief. Yea he had brought himself to that pass, that as though he had been made of wood or stone, his body was in a man∣ner sensless. And Gallonius speaking of his rare Con∣tinence writes thus.

I do really believe (for he was intimate with the H. man) Philips Virginity and Purity was no whit inferiour to that which by speciall priviledg from God was confered on Eleazar Count of Arian, and Simon Salo, whose Praises are recounted by the Metaphrast in Surius for either of these led the lives of Angels amidst the Society of Men.

Moreover wonderfull were the effects of his his unstained Chastity, For first, the brightness of so sin∣gular a Purity sparkled forth at his very eyes, which from his Infancy to an extream Old age con∣tinued quick and lively; so that one could scarce look steadily on him, nor was the most exquisite Painter able to pourtray their glittering beauty.

As also his unpolluted Body cast forth so sweet a

fragrancy, that such as came nigh him where won∣derfully refreshed by it; and many affirme they re∣ceived encreases of Devotion by the odoriferous perfume that breathed out from his Brest and Hands.

Fabricius Aragonius a Nobleman of Mantua com∣ing to Philip to Confession, and finding him sick abed, was unwilling to approach near, thinking he might smell strong by reason of age; but going nigher him, as soon as the H. man put his head into his bo∣some he was so amazed at the delicious sweetness of the Odour that issued from him, that he would have imputed it to some perfumes he knew not of, But afterwards learning that, the Religious man was di∣vinely endued with the Blessing of Chastity; Now, saith he I understand the matter more fully; and that this fragrant scent proceeded from that incomparable flower of his Virginity. The same hapned to others as they received Absolution.

Yea this Maiden-man was so far favoured by God that he could by the smell distinguish who had kept their virginity, and who not. Therefore if any la∣scivious woman met him as he went, though she were a stranger to him, he smelling a stink present∣ly either put a handkerchief to his Nose, or held it with his hand, saying that Nothing smelt more odious or noisome than uncleanness. He would say to his Penitents that came to him polluted with this filthy sin; Thou stinkest, Son, thou stinkest: so that they who knew it durst not come to him, whilst they stood defiled with such impurities. Nay by the very look∣ing on the visage he discovered the vice; a thing so common with him, that even in beasts, that are without all fault herein, he could discern the like rankness.

Further, He obtained of God this priviledge that by the bare imposition of his hands he freed divers from sensuall provocations, that troubled them; many also by being only acquainted with him were perswaded to Chastity; some he enflamed with the love of Purity by only putting them to his brest: others he made victorious in those strong encounters by but touching them with any thing he used.

Antonius Fuccius of Tifernum, a Physician, was determined to leave his Profession, for that when he attended sick women, he found himself violently tempted; but wanting a competent livelihood of his own, he opens his mind to Philip, who pitying his grief reached him his Garter, which Antony taking, and wearing constantly about him, became quit of the like temptations ever after.

But what needs there more? the very Name of Philip torments the damned spirits, and abates their fury; for Exorcists adjuring the possessed but by the Chastity of Philip, have bin known sundry times to cast out the devil.

A yong Widow much disquieted with the enti∣cing blandishments of the flesh, who had oft revealed as much to her Confessor but found no help, being sent to Philip, was prescribed a remedy in these words; Daughter, as often as you are molested with unchast imaginations, bespeak the Devil thus. I will complain of you to Philip, that Asse, the worst of men. The woman did as she was directed, and was rid of those fleshly desires. Which thing also hapned to very many, who falling in like sort upon the Devil in the same terms, were straight freed of their temptations, yet he advised them to utter those words with all possible confidence and simplicity, and not discoursing things too much with reason; know∣ing

how much the devill is awed by the harmless in∣tegrity and plain dealing of holy persons.

Besides, he lesson'd his with severall Documents for the preservation of Chastity.

First, he coun∣selled Confessors not to take the Confessions of Wo∣men but through a grate, to shun all discourses with them, not purposely to look on their faces, to shew themselves severe in conversing with them, not to be in company with one either in the house or any private place, but upon ex∣tream necessity, and when a third person was by.

Therefore when a certain Priest one time entred the Church, unknown to him before, he forthwith by a Divine impulse, calling the man to him, said; It befits not a Priest, though otherwise devout, to con∣verse so familiarily with women; therefore see you for∣bear it utterly hereafter. He astonished hereat wondered how he should enter so far into him, be∣ing either of them strangers to one another.

Be∣ing also one well experienced, He disswaded them from too much confidence in themselves, either by reason of age or the constant exercise of the habit of Chastity; and that they should propose him for their pattern: For said he, God hath bestowed some things on me, which he useth not to dispense to all. He had short Rules for Youth to learn; as, to avoid bad company; not to pamper their carkase too deliciously; to fly idle∣ness; to be much in prayer; lastly, to keep up the frequent use of Sacraments, of Penance e∣specially.

And generally he would say, That Christian Hu∣mility was the safest Guardian of Chastity. There∣fore if he chanced to hear of one that had fallen in∣to that sin, he said, We ought rather to pity than to

scorn him; for he that cannot truly compassionate his fal∣len brother, hath reason to fear lest himself likewise fall ere long: adding, That no peril is greater, than dangers unfeard.

A young man that had long frequented the com∣pany of a lascivious woman, but at length grown staid, conceiting it no hard matter to reclaim his Mistres too, resorted to her still upon that ground: but he that went to convert, came away debauch∣ed, by a lewd harlot; and so relapsing durst not return for shame to Philip: till at last he forced himself and came; Philip presently placing his Scholars in a Ring, and the young man among them took occasion thus to bespeak them, there are amongst you my Sons, who think, as soon as ever they have begun to walk in Gods way, they can convert the whole world, and yet after they have fallen are ashamed to return to their own Confessor. At which the young man changed colour, but Philip without discovering that he meant him, laying his hand on his head, and making much of him reduced him to his for∣mer course of Piety.

He alleadged also that it conduced much to the preservation of Chastity to disclose ones whole mind to his superiours, not concealing from them the least matter. For wounds laid open to the Physician are most easily cured. He greatly com∣mended for removing this kind of temptations the Ejaculatory Prayers, so highly approved by the Ancient Fathers,

such as that, Deus in adju∣torium meum intende, Domine ad adjuvandum me festi∣na; i. e. Hast the ô God to deliver me, make hast to help me ô Lord: and that, Cor mundum crea in me Deus; Create in me a clean heart ô God. Above all, for the subduing all the allurements to

the flesh, he principally exhorted Christian Souldiers to flight, saying, That in the battels of Chastity, to run away is to win.

CHAP. XIV. His Abstinence.

BEsides, he brought under his body by perpetu∣all austerities, and abstinence, the chief pre∣servative of Chastity. For above what hath been already spoken of his rigid course of life, after he was made Priest, he eith•••• did eat nothing at all a mornings, that is, for his breakfast or dinner, or else, without sitting, a morsell of bread dipt in wine. At evening he was content with a Salad and an egg for supper, or two at most. He had no bread brought him at night, but the pieces he left in the morning at breakfast: he had fruit according to the season of the year; he scarce ever eat any thing made with milk or furmety, seldome fish, but more seldome flesh: and though he kept thus mean a diet, yet he alwayes left something.

When the Physicians prescribed him some nou∣rishing broths, he complain'd he was surcharged with overeating; and in his latter time having received the H. Eucharist, he left of breakfasts, being asked, why? he said, He quite forgot it.

He did most what eat alone, shutting himself in∣to his Chamber, and laying a napkin over a stool used the attendance of no servant, he came not to the Refectory with the rest, both to colour his purposed abstinence the better and for his healths sake, hav∣ing for so many years together used so slender a diet at S. Hieroms.

For his drink likewise he was very sparing, the Pot he used not holding above one draught; besides his Wine so dashed, that it tasted most of water, and sometimes he drank only water.

Indeed he was so abstinent, that by the joynt o∣pinion of Physicians he could never have lived so long by the strength of nature, and therefore many thought him rather nourished be the Bread of An∣gels, then fed with the ordinary food of men. But though he lived this strict and retired kind of life, yet would he not let his do any thing unusuall a∣bout their diet, but willed them to be content, with the meat which was set before them, and e∣specially abhorred to hea•• one say, This I like, this I dislike. He forbid making any private entertain∣ments, or speciall exceedings, save in cases of necessi∣ty; and was against the eating any thing between dinner and supper: telling one that had offended in this kind; you will never get a fervour of the Spirit till you mend this fault.

He slept but little, some four or five hours at most, all the rest of the night he spent in Prayer: his bed and Chamber suted with his Christian simplicity; much-what like those used ordinarily by Secular Priests: he commonly went to sleep about midnight, and though last in bed yet he was first up.

As for his apparell, he alwayes followed the garbe of other Secular Priests; neither sumptuous nor sor∣did in his attire; but observing S. Bernards rule, he hated slovenliness and loved cleanliness, though he never wore Silks.

His course of Fasting he left not so long as he lived, yea the older he grew, the more still he a∣bated of the conveniences of life: and if any coun∣selled him to favour himself now he was old, he ei∣ther

turned his discourse to some other thing, or smilingly answered, Heaven stands not open for slug∣gards.

Yet though thus severe to himself, to his Sons none more tender and indulgent always: perswad∣ing them rather to feed a little too freely, than too sparing: it being easier to substract somewhat from too full a diet, then to repair with nutriment the body well nigh pined: affirming that, sometimes Religious Persons had bin instigated by the devil to in∣flict too sharp chastisements on their Bodies, that so being disable by sickness they might chill in holy duties; or dismay'd through the violence of their disease recede from the way of salvation. Therefore this R ^d. Sage person made more account of those who with mo∣deration tamed the wantonness of the flesh, rather teaching the chief Powers of the Soul, as the Ʋn∣derstanding and Will obedience; than of those who were over-rigorous to their bodies, taking little or no care of regulating the unruly affections of the Mind.

CHAP. XV. His Contempt of Riches.

TO the Vertue of Temperance he annexed a most profound Contempt of Riches; for though he had not vowed Poverty, yet kept he his mind loose from the love of wealth: So that to let pass his re∣fusall of inheriting his Ʋncles estate; and that slen∣der provision which he found, being then young, with Galeottus Caccius: when he was ordained Priest and Confessor, though he were offered divers thou∣sands

of Crowns by some Noble Persons, he ever re∣fused to take any part thereof.

He had some goods at Castle-Franco a Town of Tus∣cany, whence his Ancestours were descended, and being much solicited by a friend of his to recover them out of the hands of those who wrongfully detained them, he made answer, You will do me a courtesy to forbear speaking of them any more hencefor∣ward.

When he lived at S. Hierom's without any allow∣ance or pension serving the Church, hearing that his Father Francis Nerius was dead, and had left his Sister Katherine his heir passing him by, and there∣fore the Will was void; he nevertheless confirmed all that his Father had disposed of by will, readily and willingly giving place to his Sister.

His other Sister Elizabeth wanting issue writ to him often to accept of being left her heir, which he also denied, by Letters sent her.

For threescore years together, he never received the smallest matter of his kindred, while he was at Rome. When his Sister sent him a couple of shirts for a token, he never so much as took care to have them fetched from the Messenger's that brought them.

At S. Hierom's, where he lived thirty three years he refused the money that was wont to be paid by the Governours unto other Priests, and contented himself with a bare Chamber.

He was so averse from having to do with mens Wils or Testaments, knowing that those, who inter∣meddle in such matters, give secular persons occa∣sions of offence or suspicion, that when he visited the Sick, as soon as he heard but a word of make∣ing a Will, he would immediately be gone, and

scarce come any more to see them, unless they had done setling thir estates.

Vincentius Teccosius bequeathed Him one hundred Crowns and some other Ʋtensiles: but when the Testator died, He becoming an Executor rather than a Legacer, gave all his share to the Testators Neeces.

Constantius Tassonius left him a great sum of mo∣ney; but when the Schedule of the Will was brought him, he in sport made it serve for a cover to a dish, never after mentioning word of the money.

Prosper Cribellius was once sick, and out of his exceeding affection toward Phi∣lip, purposed to make Him his * 1.15 Sole heir: which He senting out left coming to see him. But growing worse and worse, and having newly received the H. Ʋnctions the pious Father moved with compassion comes to him not forsaking his Penitent in apparent danger of death: Prosper as soon as he saw him he so wished for, cries out; Ah, Father, why come you so late? He replies: Though I be late, yet have I omitted nothing, which had I been present, I could have done for you: but because it was noised about the City, that you had made me your heir in your Will, I forbore comming to your house thus long. The truth is, I will none of your Estate; and that you may be sure I speak from my heart, I am now going to S. Peters in the Vatican to pray for your recovery; which if God deny to grant, I shall most earnestly request him, to lay this very dis∣ease on me: so laying his hands on the sick mans, he went away weeping; and when Prosper had slum∣bred awhile, awaking, he found himself perfectly well.

From this his Contempt of wealth proceeded that most vehement desire of Poverty wherewith he burned continually, for though he could not ex∣ercise the Vertue of Poverty in that state of life wherein he then was; yet was he so enflamed with the love thereof inwardly, that these expressions oft fell from him; Would God I were forced for to beg my bread from door to door! Would God I had never a penny, nor none to give me! O how great a fa∣vour should I count it, to end my dayes in an Hospi∣tall! and many the like speeches did this passionate Lover of Poverty often utter. Yea and that small pittance of meat (as hath been said already) which he did eat, he begged sometimes of one, sometimes of another of his Sons in the name of Christ,

Yet we affirm not that Philip at no time kept any thing for himself; that being both contrary to the condition of Secular Priests, and the Institution of the Congregation; only the Reader may see by what hath been spoken, that he was far from the love of wealth, and likewise most ambitious of this Ver∣tue.

And as he himself thus despised riches, so did he desire that his should scorn and contemn them too. Therefore understanding that one of his had horded up a certain Stock by himself a little too greedily, Son, said he to him, before you gave your mind to this same money, you had a face like an Angels, and I was taken with your looks; but now your visage is quite altered, and all that beauty of your countenance withered, and sadness sits upon your brow. See I be∣seech you, what you do, and beware. Whereupon he blushed, and changing his mind, employed all his pains and industry in purchasing heavenly treasures to himself.

Once He asked a Scholar of his, whether he loved money? who answered, No, he abhor'd it. Be it so, be it so, replyed Philip, we shall go into the house of the Lord; for look how much love is bestowed on the creature, so much is withdrawn from the Creator.

A certain young man, out of an aim to be rich, and get a reputation in the City, applied himself to the study of the Civil Law; him the H. man be∣gan to accost and extoll, saying, O happy you! you study hard now, and within a while will proceed Do∣ctor after which by your Law practise will gain a Mass of Money, encreasing both the wealth and honour of your House, and who is there but expects you to mount to the Highest and most eminent dignities? O what a happy man are you! and then being made a great man you will scorn to look upon me a mean shrub. The young man thought all this had been spoken by him in good earnest, when Philip embracing him whis∣pers in his ear, But what after all this? That word sunk so deep into his mind, that going home he did nothing but repeat to himself, but what after all this? which weighing seriously in his thoughts, he resolves thence forward to labour only in search of celestiall Riches and Honour. So putting him∣self under Philips institutions attending his plea∣sure in every thing, he enters himself as a Servant into his family, and at last, Philip being dead, was admitted into the Congregation of the Oratory. This was Franc. Zazzaro a Priest one of singular Vertue and exceedingly beloved both of pious and honou∣rable Persons, who deserved well of the Congrega∣tion, and being intrusted with the managing the Canonization of the B. Father, pursued it with such rigour and paines, that at last he brought it to the wished-for period: when having obtained of the

H. Congregation of Rites that the office for him be∣ing approved should be recited at pleasure, and per∣formed the obsequies for the most R. Father in the year one thousand six hundred twenty six, on the twenty sixt of Aprill, being fifty years old, he dyed in peace.

The like befell a certain Merchant, who brag∣ging what huge store of money he had got toge∣ther, and much more he would gain, upon Philips only whispering in his ear, But what after all this? laid aside his employments, and entring into H. Or∣ders betook himself wholly to the service of God.

But though the B. man desired to have all his free and unspotted from the love of Silver and Gold, yet did he mainly wish those of the Congre∣gation to outvy others herein. Therefore as soon as they were allowed to hear Confessions he warned them especially to receive no money from such as came to them, oft using to say; If ye aim at the good of Souls, never seek the gold in their purse: and frequently repeating that of the Apostles; Non vestra, sed vos. Not yours, but you. Nor did he only thus advice and counsell Confessors, but all of the Congregation; and that they should by no means have to do in making Wils; as under∣standing how easily some jealousy or displeasure might hence arise. He hated avarice, as one would the plague; calling it an incurable vice: therefore he affirmed, That incontinent persons were sooner brought home to Christ, than covetous: for which reason he enjoyned his Penitents whom he perceived most addicted to money, not Fasting, but Alms, as a proper and befiting Penance; say∣ing, Let the young man keep himself from the mire of uncleaness, and the old from the filth of covetu∣ousness,

and we shall be all holy. And again, Pick me out but ten men free from all love of worldly things, and I will undertake to convert the whole world. To them of the Congregation he would say; God will hereafter enrich you with temporall goods, but take heed, lest while ye encrease your for∣tunes ye lose the Spirit.

CHAP. XVI. His declination of Honours and Dignities.

NOr was the B. Father lesse averse to Honours and Preferments then he was to Riches. For having lived in the City sixty years, and gained an opinion of rare sanctity, not only with the Plebei∣ans and private Citizens, but among the Nobles, and with the Popes themselves, yet did he continually retain very low and mean thoughts of himself. He never would take any Church-Livings, stipends, or preferments, though freely offered him, nay, he used such cunning and art in refusing and declining them, that one could scarce tell that he at any time refused them: yet is it evident and apparent that the H. man both cautiously and modestly had divers times rejected the wealthiest Prebendaries and Bishopricks in the City, ye and the sacred Pur∣ple too, as shall appear.

Gregory XIV. whilst yet a Cardinall loved Philip entirely; whereupon being newly preferred to the Popedome, the Servant of Christ came ••o kiss his feet; the Pope straight running to embrace him, tels him he had a purpose to make him Cardinall. At which the Good man whispered somewhat in his,

and putting it off with a jest went his way. Yet was not Gregory removed a whit from his intended resolution, but within a while sends him a trusty messenger to confirm it to him, and carry him a Cardinals Hat; he returns the messenger, praying him to present his humble thanks to the Pope, and acquaint him, that he would certifie his Holiness further what time would be fittest for the recepti∣on of such an Honour. And by this means he de∣seated the Popes intent and skreened off the Lustre of the dignity proffered him. And that none reck∣on this a meer Complement of the Popes, and no re∣all offer, it is attested by those who were admitted to all the Popes privacies, and by Philip himself, who oft related the same to his Sons, to disswade them from the Ambition to Honours.

But this truth became more illustrious under Pope Clement VIII. for Philips requesting the Popes Bull for a certain Maid, and by indisposition of body unable personally to attend him, he sent him a petition to this effect.

Most Holy Father, who am I that even Cardi∣nals should come to me? and much more the Car∣dinals of Cusa and Florence who were with me ye∣ster evening: the latter of which, I then needing a litle Manna, such as is gathered off leaves, caused two ounces to be brought me out of that large store which he had sent to the Hospital of Santo Spirito; and the same day he staid with me till the second hour of the night, who so highly and so frequently extolled your Holiness, as he seemed to me too immoderate therein; for as much as a Pope should be all Humility. At the Seventh hour of the night Christ came to me, and fed me with the Sacrament of his own Body; but you never

vouchsafed to come so much as once to our Church. Christ is God and Man, yet he disdains not to come to me as oft as I call on him; you a meer man, descended of a holy and vertuous Father, but Christ of God the Father; your Mother Agnesina is a devout woman; but Christ had the Virgin of Virgins for his Mother. I want not cause of com∣plaint, had I not rather repress this passion of Anger. I do therefore command your Holiness to obey my pleasure concerning this Maid the Daughter of Claudius Nerius, who I am very de∣sirous to have admitted among the Devota's of S ^t. Francisca: you long since engaged your word to take his Children into your care; remember it is beseeming a Pope to keep Faith. Therefore your Holiness may refer the business to me, to make use of your Authority so far as is requisite, the rather, for that I am not unacquainted what the resolutions of the Maid are, being most cer∣tain, that she is now hastening to the solitude of a call of God. And in the mean time with all due submission I most humbly kiss your Holiness's feet.

Hereunto Clement writ back in the same leaf with his own hand thus.

The Pope makes you this answer: He saith your paper in the very front savours of a spirit of Ambition, while you certifie him of your being so frequently visited by Cardinalls, except you did it, that he might know they were holy and religious persons, which no man ever questioned. As to that, that the Pope never visited you, he retorts it upon you, who never de∣served it at his hands, having so often refused him the acceptance of a Cardinals Hat when freely tendred you. For the commands you lay upon

him, he gives you leave, if the Nuns oppose, to check them according to your accustomed juris∣diction: and he commands you to have a care of your health and not to take any more Confessions without his Permission. And that when Christ shall come to you next, you remember to pray for the Pope, and for the urgent necessities of all Christen∣dom.

Thus Clement. Whereby appears evidently that Philip had oft avoided the dignity of the Purple.

To the same purpose was that which fell out some three moneths before the Servant of Christ died; when speaking to Bernardine Corona, one of the Congregation, with whom Philip was familiarly and frequently conversant; The Pope saith he, will make me one of his Cardinals, what think you on't? He replied; You must needs accept of it, if it be but for the good you may do for the Congregation. At which Philip lifting up his cap and looking to hea∣ven cried out, Paradise, Paradise.

Yea the H. man did so constantly refuse dignities and promotion, that somtims he brake out into such expressions as these; In truth I had rather dye, nay to be strook with lightning from heaven (pardon me my Children) than be intangled in the love of these world∣ly things: I do indeed desire much the Vertues of Car∣dinalls and Popes; but their Riches and pompious splendour I tremble within my self to think of. So he.

Not without cause therefore did Marc. Antonius Maffa the Abbot utter these words:

It may be said of Philip, as S. Hierom doth of Hilarion: Let others admire the wonders he did, his incredible abstinence, learning, and humility; I admire no∣thing so much as that he should so nobly spurn reputation and fame; especiall seeing Philip liv∣ing in the City, and in the throng of honours e∣ven scorned honour.

So Maffa.

But the Right humble man rejected not only the preferments offered him by such as were Strangers; but even those honours presented by his own, as Fa∣ther and Founder of the Congregation. Insomuch as being chosen perpetuall superiour, two years before his death, he was extreamly importunate that they would let him lay down the Office, but they strong∣ly opposing it, he by assistance of the Cardinalls Borromeo and Cusanus procured of Pope Clement VIII. that the Fathers should condescend to his in∣treaty. So on the twenty third of July in the year One thousand five hundred ninety three, Caesar Baro∣nius succeeding him, did this vowed Lover of Obe∣dience, to the great joy of his heart, resign his Su∣periour-ship. Yet neither did his abate any thing of their duty and observance toward him, nor a∣gain did he in the least withdraw, so much as for a minute, his care and providence for the benefit of the Congregation.

And as he demeaned himself herein, so would he have all his to behave themselves; those peculiar∣ly of the Foundation of the Oratory, being much dis∣pleased when any adventured but to step into the Courts of Princes, except only in cases of necessity: so that he oftimes severely reprehended Germanicus Fidelius for frequenting so much company of Cour∣tiers, saying to him, Ʋnless you quit the Court, you will be made a Courtier, and yet shall you never attain unto the dignity of a Prelate; and he spake true. For Clement VIII. committed his Nephew Silvester Aldobrandinus for his instruction in man∣ners to Germanicus, and confered on him a Canons place in the Vatican, which he at last resigning di∣ed, as Philip had told him, without any degree of eminency.

Besides the Servant of Christ would not willingly suffer any of his to hold above one Ecclesiasticall Be∣nefice; and on no terms would take the Confessions of such Prelates, as, contemning the Refidence due unto their Sees, without colour of Canonicall ex∣cuse, lived in the City; a thing wherein he would not dispence with Cardinalls themselves.

In his discourse he would so sharply reprove the counterfeit Pageantry of the world, that he was of∣ten repeating such sayings as these: Vanitas Vani∣tatum, & omnia vanitas. Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. There is nothing at all in this world good. The contempt of Riches and honours is in all places ne∣cessary, but at Rome most of all. I find nothing in this world that pleaseth me, but this pleaseth me most that nothing pleaseth me; and the like. At which di∣vers being awakened and rowsed made after heaven with all their might.

CHAP. XVII. His Humility.

THis so matchless Contempt of wealth and ho∣nours had its rise from his profound Humility, which being deeply rooted in his Soul made him with S. Francis heartily and without hypocrisy profess himself the greatest of sinners; which he spake with such powerfulnes of expression, as wit∣nessed that he really meant what he said. There∣fore if he had heard of any horrid crime done, he used to say, Pray God I have not committed worse! And for this cause he read the Life of S. Mary the Egyptian much; whose austerities he practised with

great rigour, though not guilty of heinous offences. He every day complained in this manner to God; Lord do thou beware of me, for except thou assist me with thy help, I shall this very day undoubtedly betray thee. Somtimes he would say; The wound of Christs side is wide enough already, but unles God prevent me, I shall make it wider. When he received the Body of Christ in the Eucharist, he said; I confess, Lord, I confess, I am inclined to nothing but evill: he pre∣pared himself in this wise to say Mass; I offer up my self to thee, O Lord, of my self prone to all manner of evill. When he was a young man, if at any time he were sick, he used to say; Lord, if I recover, I will lead a better life: but bethinking himself better in his latter time, he used this saying; If I should chance to grow well, I shall, as far as in me lies, be but the worse, for I have so often failed in performing what I have purposed, that I dare not trust my self hereafter any more. He had so firmly imprinted it on his Spirit, that he had never done any good, that when he saw young men, thinking on the time they had for their progresse and advance in Gods way, he would say O Blessed, ô happy you, who have time before you for the doing good in! somtimes he brake out into this speech, I despair: so that meeting once two Dominicans, and making his way on purpose betweene them he said, Sirs let a despairing man pass quietly by you: they, supposing him to be indeed hopeless concerning salvation, laboured to repair his confidence, but he smiling told them; I de∣spaire of my self, but I trust in the Lord: and so went on his journey.

Yea he had so fixed his mind on the sense of his own baseness and unworthyness, that on a time a woman requesting of him a piece of his garment,

as reverencing him for a Saint, he in great wrath bid her, Away I am no Saint, but indeed a Devill. Another time being asked by the Embassadress for Spain; How many years since he had renounced the world: his answer was; Truely I know not that ever I renounced it. Being once sick and desired by some holy persons to repeat those words of S. Mar∣tin; Lord, if I may be usefull to thy people, I refuse not the Labour: he made this ••t art reply. Alas, I am no Saint Martin, nor ever thought my self such a one: and should I esteem my self usefull, I should ac∣count that I were undone. Another time being sick, and requested by a Noble man to pray for the con∣tinuance of his life, that he might not leave his so soon without providing for them, he angrily re∣plyed, He never judged himself worthy to provide for any. A Person of quality seriously reflecting on the daily wonders done by him, said, Father, Saints do very strange things; speak not so, replied he, but say rather with the Prophet; Mirabilis Deus in Sanctis suis: God is wonderfull in his Saints. Another tel∣ling him, I am tempted to be beleive you are not the man the world takes you for: saith he; Know, that is no temptation but a truth; for I am nothing more than other men.

In this Humility of Spirit he used to commend himself to the Prayers of all; and was wont to send to divers Houses of the Regulars to desire the Reli∣gious, the Novices especially, to remember him in their Prayers to God: he likewise requested such as were Priests to afford him a share in their Suffra∣ges when they said Mass in their Churches, and chiefly on their prime Festivalls. In like manner he intreated that he might beare a part of the Pe∣nances injoyned Penit••nts in Confession; the Humble

man hoping by this means through the prayers of o∣thers to obtain what he least expected from his own.

He also took it ill that any accounted him a ver∣tuous or holy man: and if he heard himself called Saint he would say; wretched I! how many rude Clowns, how many silly wenches shall go to heaven be∣fore me? One of his telling how he was held a Saint by all, he cried out Alas, Alas!

He was alwayes averse to estimation among men: for when being young the Armes of his Ancestors were brought him, as a memoriall of his family, he presently tore them. A little before he died he caus∣ed all his papers to be burnt. He would suffer none, were they of never so mean quality, to stand bare to him. Nor would he ordinarily let any kiss his hands, although he permitted some, that they might not go away sad. He never used to discourse with Spirituall men about Spirituall matters. He could not endure that any of the Congregation should call him Superiour or Regent, but took much delight in the title of Father: that name importing rather Affection than Authority. Hereupon being af∣terwards Superiour of the Congregation, he was by his still called Father. For this cause also he would not be stiled Founder or Institutor of the Congrega∣tion: professing that he never intended the erecting a Congregation. He was far from all contention and emulation, abhorred complementing language and fine cloths. He extreamly disliked some Court∣fashions, but approved Christian simplicity ever in every one. He retained no familiarity with the dissembling and worldly politique, and above all deeply detested Liars.

In determining matters appertaining either to himself or the Congregation, he alwayes asked the

opinion of others: advising not only with sage and prudent persons, but even those of inferiour rank, desirous they should tell him plainly their opinion. He was much pleased when he heard himself under∣valued as a weak Person; remembring that of S. Paul, Si quis videtur, &c. If any man among you seem to be wise, let him become a fool, that he may be wise: so that of Philip it may be truly said, as Gregory Nissen of S. Ephrem; He had rather be, than seem holy.

If it hapned, that God did any thing supernaturall by him, he took such care to conceal it, that none or very few came to know it: for as the B. Francis de Paula used herbs and the like in curing diseases, thereby to disguise the miracles he wrought; so Philip as it were jestingly used to do strange effects; what he thus did seeming to the beholders quite a∣nother thing then indeed it was; in such wise as divers believed that like another Simon sirnamed Salo, he by his prayers obtained of God, that the many Miracles daily done by him should pass un∣discerned by the eys of lookers on.

Hereto belongs that he once told Baronius, when he commended him, though sparingly and discreet∣ly; Know Caesar, that I am extreamly grieved, when I am in any esteem with men, and therefore pray, that God would not suffer any thing at all whereby men may account me better then I am: since if he hath effected ought by me beyond the ordinary course of Nature, that is to be ascribed unto the faith of others. Therefore being desired on a time to lay his hands on the sick for their recovery, he said somthing angrily; These people would certainly have me work miracles, which I am altogether unfit for.

In fine the Servant of Christ shone most glorious

in his Christian Humility toward all and on all oc∣casions, being gentle in commanding, moderate in tasking, pleasant in behaviour, affable in converse, at no time offensive to any; as appeared in that he wore woollen socks in his Chamber, lest he might disturb them under him with his walking. So far from self-conceit, that, as 'tis reported of S. Thomas Aquinas, he never in his life felt any provo∣cation to Vain glory.

He took all care possible, that his Sons likewise might ascend the top of this Vertue: and as S. John the Evangelist oft inculcated those words unto his Disciples; Filioli diligite alterutrum; My little Children love one another; so did Philip often inge∣minate this one thing still; Humiles estote Filii, hu∣miles estote. Be humble, Sons, be humble. Whereup∣on as Taurusius was preaching once, with such zeal and vehemency that his Auditors applauded him, Philip on the sudden steps forth, fearing the man might affect popularity, and falls to thumping the wall with his fist, till he drew the eyes of all upon him, by this means diverting Taurusius from being puffed up with applause. Then going into the Pul∣pit cries out, There is no reason (ô ye Auditors) any of us should boast, who as yet have not spilt the least drop of bloud for the love of Christ; nay rather have gained much honour and estimation by being in his ser∣vice: and enlarging thereon a while came down.

He said, none should mention his own praise o∣penly either in earnest or jest at any time. And that a man should rejoyce, at least not take it ill, if he did ought worthy commendation, though another had▪ the credit of it, forasmuch as he should be a double gainer thereby; to wit, for the work, and the Humility. He also advised his,

to beg earnestly of God, if he bestowed on them any Vertue, not to discover it unto them; lest they took occasion of growing proud thereby; oft repea∣ting those words; Secretum meum mihi, &c. My se∣cret to my self, my secret to my self. Withall he affirm∣ed, it was a token of apparent danger willfully to incurr a danger: and therefore wished his of∣ten to say, Trust not unto me Lord, for except thou help, doubtless I shall fall. He forbade them to vaunt of themselves at any time, saying, If I were tempted this would I do or say; but rather, What is to be done, I know, what said, but what I should say, or do, I know not. In generall he coun∣selled Penitents, at the very entrance upon their confession to disclose their foulest crimes: saying this was the way to shame the devill: but he exceed∣ingly faulted the mincing a sin, and transferring the blame upon others: adding, that he who meant to reach the highest degree of sanctity, must never stand to excuse himself, save in cases excepted by the Canons of the Church; calling them Eves who stil I excused themselves from be∣ing faulty in every thing. He further affirmed, the best course to keep one from sin, was to lay a∣side all haughtiness of mind: again, he that is reproved for a fault, should not be too much dis∣quieted at it: for, faid he, it oft falls out that the grief is more blame worthy, then the offence it self, insomuch as such excessive sorrow most commonly proceeds from nothing but Pride. Therefore if one had offended, he wished him to upbraide himself thus; Had I been humble, surely I had not sinned: but he neither readily nor generally liked their opinion, who over-confident of their own strength desired to be afflicted by God, whom he

willed rather to beg Patience. Nothing was more perillous, he said, then to carry themselves like Masters in their spirituall Apprentiseship. That divine consolations were to be expected in the privacy of the Closet, not in the society of men: that a Spirit of singularity was especially to be avoided: and good works were at no hand to be omited for the suspition of Vain glory. Therefore consonant to the Doctrine of the H. Fathers, he divided vain glory briefly into three heads. The first he termed the Mistress, namely that which not only precedes a good work, but likewise disposeth that Action to a vain end: the second he named the Associate, for that it accom∣panies the deed, not without a kind of fond complacency: the third the Maid; when a man hath temptations to vain glory but extinguishes or abates them presently: hereupon he bad them Take heed that vain glory become not your Mistress.

But hereof enough, not to cloy the Reader.

CHAP. XVIII. His Mortifications.

TO the vertue of Humility he added Discipline and Mortification, wherein he so transcended, exercising both himself and his therewith, that justly he was reputed the Great Master of this Ver∣tue. For himself; his whole study and endeavour was to be disesteemed and vilified of all; for which cause he used to do, and many times put others upon the doing of, such things as carried with them a semblance of a fickle or rather frantique mind.

In the first place therefore he was most vigilant in depressing all haughtiness and exaltation of mind, as far as he might and could, both publick∣ly and privately, at home and abroad. To de∣scend methodically to some particulars. He would sometimes dance with much eagerness, and that not in corners, but open Courts, in Porches, High∣wayes, Streets, Market-places, and where the thickest crowds of people were gathered together; in the presence of Princes, Prelats, and Cardinalls. Insomuch that he was seen dancing publikely be∣fore all on the first of August in the street of S. Peter ad Vincula, where the whole City was solemnly convened, and when one of the spectators cried out, away old fool, he rejoyced extreamly, dancing and leaping so much the more for very gladness.

One time going about his occasions he hapned on a man that sold water in the City, whose beast being laden with vessels, as the manner is, he desi∣red him, Prythee friend, let me drink a draught of water out of your Tub. He consented; So Philip setting his mouth to the Barrel drank what he pleas∣ed, all the standers by gazing on him, and won∣dring at him.

Meeting by chance the B. Felix of Cantalicium a Capuchin in the Street called the Bank, then full of people, saluting each other, he asked him, if he were athirst? who answered, Indeed I am. Felix replied, Now will I try whether you have truly learnt the habit of Mortification: and straight reached him the bottle that hung at his back, bidding him, Take it and drink: Philip took it and drank, the multi∣tude looking on, and saying, Look yee one Saint drinks to the other. But now, said Philip, I will see whe∣ther you have this vertue too, or not: when pulling his

Cap off, he put it on his head, and bad him Go. See, I do replied the other, but if any body take away your Cap, look you to that, the loss shall be yours. So Felix go∣ing away with the cap, Philip soon dispatched one after him to fetch it back. Which done, each went his way; the beholders being in suspense whether of them had shewen greater self-denyall.

Cardinall Alphonsus Jesualdus presented him with a coat of Sables conditioning that he should wear it, Philip promised him, and wore it a full moneth within doors and without, stalking with a stately gate as being brave and gallant, on purpose to be derided, looking first on this side then on that, as one proud of his attire, till taken for a frantique he was laughed at by all.

The Cardinall of Alexandria, Nephew to Pius V. of B. Memory, had invited Philip to dinner: who boil∣ing a few Lentills first, put them in a pot, and gave one of his to carry to the Feast with him, for trial of their mortification: as they were all set, he com∣mands the pot to be placed in the midst of all their dainties; himself tasts it first, then invites the rest, and distributes it; that neither the Cardinall nor the Company, knowing the holiness of the man, could refuse his proffer, but all fed very heartily on it.

The day that the Bodies of the H. Martyrs Papias and Maurus were translated to the Church of Valli∣cella, both Streets and Church thronged with the concourse of people, Philip attending the coming of the sacred Reliques nigh the gate, falls to com∣plementing with a Switzer, a Souldier belonging to the Popes Guard, pulling him by his large broad beard, they that saw it partly wondring, partly laughing thereat.

Another time to expose himself the more to scorn, he made half his beard be shaven of, and going immediately into the Sreet began to dance and ca∣per, as his guise was, very pleasantly, that so like another David, becoming more Vile there∣by, he might erect the Trophees of victory gotten over himself. And not unlike to this was it which he did once or twice in a great company of people causing one of his to cut his hair and beard; by this one invention for the subduing of his spirit, both He, and that his Barber learning the contempt of themselves,

The Humble man likewise went often thorow the City with a huge traine of Disciples accompanying him, carrying a large posy of flowers in his hand, and sometimes without his Cloak, by this means attracting the eyes of all unto him, that he might be scorned as an Idiot or Natur••ll: yea oftimes in reading, he for the nonce used barbarisms and incon∣gruities, especially when able or skilful persons were by, that they might take him for one not on∣ly void of judgment, or profound learning, but una∣ble so much as even to read right.

At home he was ever contriving wayes still to make himself contemptible; of which among severall others that occurr, the Reader may take these few examples. In the first place, you should ordinari∣ly have seen him, when he was private in his Chamber, with a Crimson shirt on reaching to his knee, huge big shoes, and those white too, upon his feet, a straight Cap on his head; in which Dress he would entertain Noble Personages, and men of quality, to make himself hereby ridiculous unto them. Yea he would sometimes go to Church in this habit, and that upon Festivall dayes. It once hap∣ned

that he came abroad thus attired, on the An∣niversary of the B. Virgins Nativity (to whose ho∣nour the Church was dedicated) as Vespers were a singing, where were present many Cardinalls, which all rising up at his entrance, in reverence to one of so rare holiness, honourably welcomed the Good old man, intreating him he would be pleased to sit down with them; who smilingly answered, It was enough for him to find room below at their foot-stools, among such as bore up their Trains.

For the same reason he had by him Romances and books fraught with fables, that he might be taxed for his levity and vanity; and when either Noble, Sage, or Learned Persons resorted to him, he would make one of his read them; shewing both by looks and gesture that he was exceedingly pleas∣ed therewith.

Once Clement VIII. sent some of the most emi∣nent of the Kingdome of Poland to him, that they might behold an example of Vertue for their imi∣tation, and by his conversation and conference in things spirituall might also conceive a due estima∣tion of his great sanctity: He having notice of it aforehand, that they were a coming, calls one of his Sons to read him one of those books, and not leave, till he bad him. Anon they came, when without ceremony or respect he tells them; I would have you hearken till this Tale be ended: to which they willingly yielding; Mark ye, saith he, whether I be not choyce to have books of a grave subject read to me; without mentioning one word of spiri∣tuall maters. So having tarried a while, looking one upon another, and wondring at what had pas∣sed, they said nothing but went their wayes; Phi∣lip bidding his Scholar; lay away the book now, for I have done what I would with it.

An honourable Roman going once with the Phy∣sician Angelus Victorius to Philip, observed him somwhat too sportive and light in his behaviour, and wondring one so highly reputed should demean himself so vainly, at his departure told the Physici∣an; Your Old Man (my Angelus) hath, I must con∣fess, not a little offended me. He did it replied he, to dissemble his sanctity. So the next time the Physician went to Philip he desired, if that Noble Person came again, he would carry himself more gravely. What, saith he, would you have me set my self in an artificiall posture and tone? and pour out fine smooth sentences of Rhetorique? that the by-stan∣ders may cry, This is that wise, that holy Father Philip: I tell you, if he come to me again, I shall use him more scurvily, and play the fool worse. After∣wards it chanced the Noble man often visited Phi∣lip, and by daily conversing with him found such vast wisdom in him, lost & shrouded under the dis∣guise of levity, that thence forward he was wholly addicted to him. Not to mention how somtime he challenged his Scholars to run for a wager; some∣time to trye which should run fastest up stairs: some he admitted and talked with in a red cap: and divers like things he continually did, Which de∣signs of his, tending to Christian Mortification even in such petty matters, are therefore offered the Reader, that men, too much addicted to the repu∣tation of humane wisdom, might both by the do∣ctrine and example of Philip learn to suppress these haughty passions of the mind, and bridle their af∣fections.

CHAP. XIX. The Mortifications he exercised on his Sons.

BUt forasmuch as he not only endeavoured to advance forward in Gods way himself, but to further others in the same, like a wise Master he continually disciplined his in the School of Mortifi∣cation. Examples whereof there are innumera∣ble, those which were most usuall with him shall here suffice.

First therefore, he somtimes enjoyned them (al∣though of Noble extraction) to stand at the church-doors, and there beg Alms of such as came; some∣times to sweep the church-porch, and carry away the dust; one while to go from door to door for a crust of bread; otherwhiles to be at Divine service in the Quire among the Monks lying flat on their faces all the time; somtimes, the Juniors especi∣ally, to walk up and down the City with Spectacles upon their noses.

He once sent a young man, one well descended, through the City ringing a little Bell, whom the Tradesmen and Children supposing to be drunk, or distracted, hooted at with insolence and clamour. He caused a Paper to be affixed to the back of ano∣ther, wherein was writen in Capitall letters, how he had eat up certain sweetmeets, and sent him with it so about the City.

One time he went with some of his to the Cardi∣nalls of Alexandria upon business, and at taking his leave said, My ••ord, have you nothing to bestow out of your bounty on me and my Sons? The Cardinall perceived his drift straight, so opening a Chest takes

out a good big Cake, and gives him: Philip, as soon as he was without the Palace, divides it into pieces, distributing each Scholar his share; bidding them eat it as they went, telling them, Sons, do but in these trifling matters use to pull down a high mind, and you will more easily master your selves afterward in things of greater moment.

One of his asked him leave once to wear a little hair over his fore head, whom he not only deny∣ed his request, but likewise injoyned he should be Cut every where alike, and to cross him the more; Go to Frier Felix of the Capuchins Order, saith he, who will do you that service for nothing. He did so; Felix, having agreed with Philip before, cut off all his hair to the very Skull, which he patiently en∣dured.

A Carpenter named Albert desired the H. man that he might wear hair-cloth a dayes, I am content, saith Philip, on condition you wear it over your cloaths. He consented, and every day put on his sack-cloth over his coat, which he used to his dying day, inso∣much as he was ever after called Bertus a Cilicio for that reason.

A certain Noble man was very fond of a Dog he had, which it chanced a Courtier carried along with him to S. Hieroms where Philip lived, whom making much of him the Beast so affected, that he could never after be got away from his Chamber. Being by force had home, he staid no longer than he was tied, and when he could slip his chain pre∣sently returned to Philip: at first the Lord took it ill, but understanding that the Dog ran of him∣self to him as soon as ever he wa•• ••••t loose, he plea∣santly asked; What is it not enough for Father Philip to inveigle so many of my Attendants, except he get a∣way

my Dogs too? for the H. man had perswaded di∣vers of his House to a Religious life. This Dog would Philip make some of his carry in their armes, and somtimes combe him carefully with a soft comb, and then wash him; many times lead him in a string about the City, and the like; which kind of Mortification he used almost twelve years toge∣ther: so that Taurusius termed that Dog, the Plague or scourge of Rationall minds.

When he went from S. Hieroms to Vallicella, he left a Cat there, and for six whole years he every day sent one of his Sons morning and evening to give her meat, and when they came back, would ask them before all, even Nobles and others, how the Cat did, whether she did eat and rest well, or no; as though it had beeen a matter of huge con∣sequence.

He dilivered a Flaggon once to Baronius, hold∣ing well nigh a Gallon, and sent him with it to the Tavern for a small quantity of wine, bidding him be sure the Drawer washed his Pot well first, and that he went down into the Cellar with him, and staid till he had drawen his wine, then give him a piece of Gold to change, but that he be carefull he made the Vintner pay him his due again to a farthing: all which when Baronius had done, they of the house thinking he came to jeer them, not onely railed at him, but threatned to cudgell him: yet Philip oft thus employed him. He also many times enjoyned him to carry the Streamer with the Cross before the Priests, as the Dead were pub∣likly had forth to Buriall. Othertimes he took him to Weddings with him; making him, as they sat at Dinner, sing out the whole Psalm, Miserere: which things the H. man did, to keep down in him the af∣fectation of an empty name.

He commanded Bernardine Corona, one of Cardi∣nall Sirletus's Gentlemen, perceiving his vertuous inclinations, to take his horse's bridle, and walk him in sight of his Lords Palace. Which, though it made him blush, he refused not to do. He enjoyn∣ed also the same Bernardine, for that he had a neat and large beard, to shave it half off, who present∣ly going about it, Philip charged him to forbear. And to what an eminent purity this Person arrived by such kind of Mortifyings, those who lived a long time with him in the Congregation, can suffi∣ciently testify.

Once in the heat of Summer he was seen openly in the Church clad in a furr'd Coat; which be∣ing put off, he dressed up one of his Sons in, with the wrong side outward, and sends him on an errand so to Caesar Baronius, as they were singing Vespers: the young man ashamed to go in such a habit skulk∣ed privily behind the Priests seats and delivered his message. Philip who at a distance saw the carriage of the business, as soon as he returned sent him a∣gain, bidding him go thorow the midst of the Quire; he observed his commands though much against his will.

He made Anton. Gallonius wear a furr'd garment over his Coat a Summer together, although he was of so hot a constitution, that in the depth of Winter he used only a Cloak. He would also not only civil∣ly intreat, but imperiously compell him to sing be∣fore such Noble or Honourable Persons as came to Vallicella; for that he knew he could tune certain Ballads as the Balladsingers use, though otherwise he were a very serious man.

He invented a smart and witty Penance for Au∣stin Mannus a Priest of the Congregation. He had,

it seems, made a choice sermon to his Audience, which Philip observing, commands him to preach over the same word for word six times; he obeyed him; insomuch as those that were present looking one upon another and laughing, cried; Look there is he that always sings the same note.

Besides, as one that could dive into the in most re∣cesses of the Soul, he used, for the subduing high∣mindedness, to enjoyn them (though seldom) o∣penly to disclose the secrets and cogitations of their hearts. Which speciall Antidote he made use of for reducing troubled and oppressed consci∣ences to a tranquility and calme. One of his had entertained some thoughts against Philip himself, which the R. Father caused him particularly and o∣penly to discover upon his knees in the Hall: who having done so was eased of all his disquiet mind. But this course he took with none, but such as he found very tractable and obedient. A Dominican Frier, who before his entrance into that Religious order, was assailed with violent and strong temp∣tations having this one remedy of Philip, but to make known his grief, was cured in his mind of all those perturbations.

But forasmuch as Philip mainly exacted of all his, that they should submit the internall motions of their Understandings and Wills to the direction of another, it will not be amiss to recount here that which befell Baronius to this purpose. The Pope had allotted him a certain pension for the compleat∣ing his Annalls; which coming to Philips ear, He thereupon injoyn•• him to pay out of the moneys assigned him such a yearly value, as the rest former∣ly used to defray toward the benefit of the Congre∣gation. Baronius thought it hard measure, and

was much troubled at it, especially not having wherewith to discharge the Transcribers of the Va∣tican Records. Therefore he alledged many and severall Arguments to alter the Fathers intention; but he being peremptory and resolved on it, could by nothing that was propounded be brought off, whereat Baronius began to be much dejected. So sending for Thomas Bozzius he entreats him to deal with the Father effectually and to change his reso∣lutions, protesting that he would rather leave the Congregation, then bear that charge. Bozzius gratifies him herein, but finds Philip more resol∣ved than before, requiring him in plain terms, ei∣ther to pay or to be gone, for God needs not the help of men. At that, Thomas counselled Caesar, and earnestly besought him to yield himself up in every thing to the commands of the B. Father; remembring that next under God he was indebted unto him both for his Spirituall and Secular knowledg. At length he, following his good counsell, repairs speedily to the H. man, and falling down at his feet in most humble manner begs his pardon, offering not his money alone, but himself, and all he had to his service chearfully. To whom Philip; Had you but done your Duty we needed not your money: only learn hence-forward to yield more ready obedience, and soften the hardness of your refractary mind. For his greatest desire was, that his should enure themselves to suppress the too nice inquisitions of the Intellect which he called the Rationale: and therefore he said, All vertue was comprized within the compass of three fingers; putting his hand upon his forehead while he spake so, and adding, This is the abridg∣ment of all Spirituall life, to lay aside Reason and ar∣guings.

And withall he diligently trained up his Sons in the daily and constant practises of Mortification. For many times when one of them was a preaching, he would command another to go up into the Pul∣pit, and bid him hold his peace: sometimes he made them speak ex tempore to the people, who at his command did much better on the sudden, than if they had premeditated. Otherwhiles he would send them to the Booksellers, bidding them ask a∣loud for the Jests of Plebanus Arlottus, or the Son∣nets of Mathew Boiardus, or if they had Esops Fables to sell. He made them more than once go back∣ward and forward from Vallicella to S. Hieroms without a Cloak, or else in torne and ragged cloths: whereupon it once fell out, that one of his wear∣ing by his appointment tattered Sleeves, met one that offered him a newer pair, which he refused, Philip hearing thereof presently dispatches him to the man, to tell him, how he denyed to take them then, as not lacking them, but would willingly now accept them, for that he needed them: the Scholar did so, and having gotten the sleeves wore them till they were all to pieces. Lastly, he would make them dance in the presence of Prelates and Cardinalls; sing divers Songs; wear a linnen Bon∣net on their heads openly; walk the streets in a broad old-fashioned Hat, tied under their Chin; carry Rosaries, made of the biggest sort of Beads, hanging about their necks, like Hermites; tye silk Scarfs edged with gold athwart their breasts, like Souldiers; and many things of the like nature, thereby to cross their inbred pride and thirst after estimation; telling them often, My Sons, accustome, accustome to Deny your selves in small things, that ye may be able to do it more easily in greater.

Yet although he disciplined them daily by these exercises, he treated them not all alike: for some at the very first he clogged with sundry and severe Penances; on the otherside he injoyned o∣thers no such thing at all. For being Divinely in∣spired he knew who were fit to undergo them, who not; and what kind of Austerities every one needed. He also made such account of this Vertue, that he had often in his mouth that of S. Bernard: Spernere mundum, spernere nullum, spernere seipsum, spernere se sperni: to which he added, Et haec sunt dona superni.

Despise the world; yet despise none; Despise thy worthless self alone; Despise this too, to be despised: Gods gifts these, highly to be prised.

Concluding; I am sure, I am not yet come to this high pitch of Mortification.

But though he were at first more frequent in chastening himself, and his, yet in his latter years he seldom used these externall exercises:

alledg∣ing, that inasmuch as the use of this Vertue be∣came now sufficiently known, as in some it might beget Humility so to many it might prove an occasion of pride and ostentation.

CHAP. XX. His Patience.

LEt us descend now to the vertue termed by the Saints the Touchstone of the rest, to wit, Pati∣ence: and we may truly affirm of Philips whole

life, that it was a daily and continuall exercise thereof. For first, omitting what hath been al∣ready spoken on this subject, He was the mockery for Courtiers in every Noblemans palace; who in de••ision enquired of his Scholars how Father Philip did; what Regalos he had eaten that Morning; how many Capons had been presented him; what delicate Cawdles the women his Penitents had sent him in; prating every day divers such things of him: So that the idle people throughout the City, in all the chief shops and Streets, talked of no∣thing else almost, but Philip and his Sons. All which came to his ear again, who not only bore it patiently, but even joyfully, that he leaped there∣at; and many astonished and admiring his mild de∣portment, others, who with the Rout had abused the B. man, all repenting of their rashness, magnifi∣ed and renouned his rare sanctity.

But some out of spleen, having an evill eye at the Institution of the Oratory, watched all occasions to defame and and asperse him, under colour of pretended Piety and Religion. It hapned that one, Philip living at S. Hieroms, in Service, was for his Society with a woman clapt up in prison by the Seriants, whereupon his Enemies gave out in the City that F. Philip was cast into Prison about a matter of women. This the B. Father hearing of pitied the men, and in patience and silence passed it over.

He went to a Prelate one time, to mediate for a Noble Roman that lay in durance, unjustly charged with a Capitall crime. He not only refused to hear the truth, but so despitefully reviled the Servant of God, that they who were by could not but ad∣mire at the malice of the one, and meekness of the

other. The like hapned betwixt him and a Cardi∣nall, who abused by the tales of informers, had an ill opinion of the H. man: and meeting Philip in the City, sharply reproved him in the hearing of all He Good man undisturbed therewith, quietly laughed to himself, and coming a little nearer whispers the Cardinall in the ear; at which abat∣ing his former roughness, he used him, whom be∣fore he looked on as an offender, with civill re∣spect. There was at S. Johns Church of the Flo∣rentines, a Servant of some Noblemans, who on a sudden, without any cause offered, began with so much impotency to rail at Philip, that a Canon of S. Peters in the Vatican accidentally being by, not a∣ble to brook his incivility, would have laid hands on him, but that he saw Philip take all so cheer∣fully; concluding, he was a very holy person, however he were unknown to him.

Yea the Servant of God was not only affronted by strangers, but even those to whom he had done favours. There fell out once a business of impor∣tance in the Congregation, and a Letter coming to Philip (at that time Governour) about it; one of his Scholars, fearing it might carry with it some∣what concerning him repugnant to Philips liking, took the paper by force out of his hand; which in∣dignity he indured with such moderation, as he never discovered any tokens of displeasure for it, as long as he lived. Yet when he was neer his end, imi∣tating herein the Royal Prophet, he gave charge that the party after his decease should be rebuked, yet in love, that so he might both acknowledg his fault and obtain pardon of God. In short, that one commendation of his Patience might suffice, which Francis Rosanus an able Divine gave him in these

words:

Very sutable it was that Philip had his Residence at S. Hieroms; seeing he sustained no less brunts of opposition, than S Hierom did from his detractors.

And here it will not be unseasonable, to shew how almost all those, who most bitterly maligned him, either out of remorse of conscience soon de∣sisted from their malice, or became spectacles of Divine Vengeance very shortly. A certain man one time spake contemptibly of him, and indeed out of no ill will to him; the next day going abroad he fell headlong into a Ditch, and broke his Leg miserably, with the hazzard of his life: confessing, that he had certainly died, if out of hatred he had inveighed against the H. man; of whom ever after he could not endure any should speak ill.

A Lady of great Quality was dangerously sick, whom the R. Father resorted much unto, being her Confessor: hereupon her Nephew, fearing shee might leave the Congregation her Heir, forbade Philip coming any more to see his Aunt; yet did not the Devout man abstaine from his charitable service. In such wise, as he enraged thereat charged, none of the Servants should let him in: He still neglect∣ing all discourtesies he met with, continues to visit the Matron. The Priests of the Congregation, in the mean time doubting lest any mischief should befall him, were instant with him to forbea•• going thither: whom he answered; Brethren, ye know I have no other ends in going, save only the good of the Sick Persons soul; and for that, as oft as need is, I shall not spare to lay down my life: for what can fall out more gloriously for the Servant of Christ, than to dye for Christ? But because they urged him so im∣portunately; See, saith he, I shall indeed avoid the

danger, for shee who is now a drawing on, shall per¦fectly recover, but her Nephew, that is well, within fifteen dayes shall assuredly die. And not a tittle of his sayings failed, for fifteen dayes after he di••d.

He went one time to the Seven Churches of the City with his Sons; which a profane fellow hearing of spake on this wise to his Camerade, one, of the same stamp: Do not you know that the Hieronymians (for so the Fathers of the Congregation of the Ora∣tory were at that time called, especially by strang∣ers, from S. Hieroms a Charitate) go this morning to the Seven Churches, and have taken with them se∣ven Asses lad••n with severall sorts of Junkets? with these and the like fancies of their own, pleasing themselves and slandering the Servant of God. But within few dayes, by the secret judgment of God, he that belched out these impious calumnies was slain with the sword; and he that listned to him sickned and dyed.

A certain Prelate, whose name for modesties sake is omitted, had most fouly accused Philip to one of the Cardinalls, to the intent, that the mat∣ter being publikely taken notice of, the Order of the Oratory might be utterly ruined: and so hei∣nous were the imputations, that the Cardinall made the Pope acquainted with them. But Philip, though he knew all this, said never a word; Yea went of∣ten to the Cardinall, and though he were shrewdly and frequently reprehended by him, yet bore it patiently ever. In the mean time it hapned that the Monks of the Order of Mount Olivet impeached that Prelate of Apostatizing from their Order, which he took so to heart, that for very grief he fell sick, and in short space deceased. Yet Philip forgetting all injuries visited him much in his sick∣ness,

and hearing of his death lamented, bidding the H. Bible should be brought him, and presently opening the Book light upon those words in the Proverbs: Homo Apostata vir inutilis &c. A back∣sliding person, a wicked man walketh with a froward mouth, he winketh with his eyes, he speaketh with his feet, he teacheth with his fingers, frowardness is in his heart, he deviseth mischief continually, he soweth dis∣cord; therefore shall his destruction come suddenly, suddenly shall he be broken without remedy. To men∣tion others, who persecuting the B. man accord∣ingly felt Gods revenging hand, is not thought convenient, in regard it may distast Posterity, and is therefore omitted.

But to proceed in the relation of Philips Patience: this Vertue had taken so deep rooting in his mind, that he not only quietly sustained injuries, but e∣ven loved his Adversaries with all his heart, pray∣ing most fervently to God for them. Besides he was of so sweet and affable a nature, that he was never known to be angry in good earnest, except against notorious debauchery, and the habits of Vice: for albeit he carryed a stern countenance toward his Scholars, the better to further their progress in piety, yet as soon as he, whom he had chidden, had but turned his back, the meek-spiri∣ted man cleared up again and looked as cheerfull a sever. He checked Ant. Gallonius somewhat se∣verely, and perceiving him troubled at it, coming nearer him, pleasantly said to him, Give me a kiss, Antony, for so it is my will and pleasure: which the Good old man did, to remove from his mind all sad∣ness and grief. He never looked sad; nay his ex∣cellent company pleased all: he was of so setled and untroubled a mind, that his Sons would say:

Do what wrong so ever to Father Philip it never moves nor disquiets him a jot. When it was told him, how some called him an Old bearded Dotard, he laugh∣ed, and even capered for joy. Another time hear∣ing one inveigh against the Order of the Oratory, as he preached, he shewed not the least sign of dislike thereat.

His Meekness and Patience appeared also in sus∣taining infirmities and indispositions of Body; for being often sick, and that for no little while, but sometimes fifty or threescore days together, inso∣much as he was four times anointed with the Sacred Oile, yet he alwayes shewed cheerfullness in his looks without any discovery of pain at all. So that once when the Doctors had given him quite o∣ver, and he perceived his Sons to be in great heavi∣ness for him, with a stout heart and loud voice he cried out, what is the matter Fathers, what is the matter, I say, that you are disquieted so? Eqidem paratus sum, & non sum turbatus; Truely I am Ready and not dismayed.

All the time that he was sick, he never spoke of his disease to any but Physicians. He was never known to complain; though his malady grew up∣on him, yet he scarce changed the tenor of his voice; such as came to him he entertained with his wonted courtesy; rather administring com∣fort to such as visited him, than receiving rom them. He ever took the Confessions of Penitents, except he were prohibited expresly by the Physi∣cians. If his Sons at any time wished him to for∣bear for a time, for his healths sake, his answer was; Let me alone, nothing is more pleasing to me than to hear confessions. It was ascribed to a mira∣cle also, that being on the sudden freed from his

disease he returned immediately to his charge; lying sick almost to death, as it might be to day, and to morrow betaking him more vigorously than before to the wonted offices of Religion. Which he attributing to a Divine hand, told the Physicians oft; Not you, but that same Box of H. Reliques (pointing to it with his finger) hath recovered me. They were given him by S. Carlo.

At S. Hieroms he was like to dye once, and being very thirsty modestly intreated Iulius Petruccius, a Nobleman of Siena that was by, to give him a cup of water with juice of a Pomgranate in it. And as Iu∣lius was about to sugar it, to abate the sharpness of the Pomgranate, suddenly appeared a young man whom he had never seen before, or after, who offered him a lump of Sugar, and so vanished. Ju∣lius gives Philip the drink, who, having drunk it up and slept a while on one side of the Bed, awaked, and said, I am well: Julius thinking of the Boy, and seeing none knew him, concluded it was an Angel sent from heaven to take care of the H. man: and Philip the day following went about his Spirituall affairs in as perfect health as ever.

Another time he was sick in the same House, so that the Physicians said there was no hopes of life, and they had newly given him the H. Eucharist, and prepared him by Extream Ʋnction for his de∣parture hence; there was present Pet. Victricius of Parma, an honourable Person, and one of the speciall and most intimate friends of Cardinall Boncompagnus, who afterward being Pop•• was called Gregory the XIII. he of his own accord was as∣sistant to Philip: who desiring him to reach him the Cup to wash his mouth, he did so; when Philip, Hezekiah like, turning his face to the wall, lay still

for the space of a quarter of an hour, not stirring; at length changing from that posture, he found himself well, and recovering his full strength rose, and followed his employments.

To come at last to his Rules of Patience, which he laid down. First he said, Nothing was more Noble or becoming a Christian, than to suffer for Christ; and that it was the sorest affliction, to want affliction. Therefore if his Scholars at any time complained, that they could not beare tribulati∣ons courageously; Say rather, quoth he, we are indeed unworthy of such an honour; for know, Gods love is to be measured by our sufferance. He alleag∣ed, that there was no speedier way to attain to a Contempt of the world, than by suffering ad∣versity, and misery: styling those unhappy men, that were not admitted into the discipline of this Schoole. Moreover he affirmed (yet in a good sense always) that there was no Purgatory a∣mong the living, but either Paradise or Hell: for those who contentedly endure afflictions, enioy the felicity of Paradise; but such as are impati∣ent under them, feel after a sort the torments of Hell. He said likewise, the unusuall joys and favours of the Spirit were the forerunners of a future temptation; that mans life is interwoven of comforts and tribulations; and that such as avoided one cross, should light upon another worse; that Vertue, as 'tis said, was to be made out of necessity; and for the most part men create themselves troubles.

By these and the like wholesome sentences the B. man did both animate himself and his to the pursuit of Patience.

CHAP. XXI. His Perseverance.

TO conclude at length this Argument of the Vertues of Philip; He knowing, that no work be it never so laborious, never so laudable, unless it be consummate and crowned with Perseverance, may be rightly termed an act of compleat Vertue; resolutely persisted in a constant and even tract of Piety to his End. So that as soon as he came to Rome, and understood that he was called thither to Labour in the Lords Vineyard, for the space of threescore Years, he went not so much as once with∣out the City walls, except out of devotion to visit the Seven Churches. And though his friends often urged him to go to this or that place for his recrea∣tion, and especially his kinred, that he would come to Florence; yet could he never be perswaded to leave the City.

Being in obedience to his Superiors, made Priest and Confessor, he said Mass every day, and constant∣ly to the last heard Confessions. When the Congre∣gation afterward was instituted, he would not take upon him any other charge but that, to the end he might more carefully and effectually intend the Services he had set up in it; nor did he introduce a multiplicity of Exercises in the Congregation; contenting himself with three principally, as he said, to wit, Prayer, Administration of the Sa∣craments, and the daily Repast of the Word of God.

He did ever and anon inculcate that lesson to his; Non qui inceperit, sed qui persever averit usque in finem, hic salvus erit. Not he that begins, but that endureth

unto the end, shall be saved. And the better to ex∣cite them to so excellent a Vertue, he instilled into them that Golden Mean of Discretion, saying;

E∣very thing must not be attempted in one day; nor all the Stages of Holiness be posted over in three: adding that it was a harder matter to regu∣late such as were too venturous, than to quick∣en the timorous or sluggish: also, that the ex∣ternall work was not so strictly to be stood on, nor the means so eagerly to be pursued, as to forget the chief end and scope thereof. Again, that the body should so far be kept low as that the Passions of the mind might not rebell. He fur∣ther affirmed, that the exercises of Piety were not lightly to be omitted, whereto a man had formerly obliged himself; therefore those that tasked themselves with too many duties of Reli∣gion did not wisely: for they who so over-bur∣dened themselves either desisted as being tired therewith, or dispatched them too fast. Therefore he wished his to chuse a moderate course for Spi∣rituall matters, which having once entred upon they should never lay aside: inasmuch as the subtile Enemy of mankind, if once he can interrupt one duty of Piety, will not surcease his assaults, till he have destroyed all. Therefore he oft re∣peated this document to his;

Nulla dies sine linea. No day without some stroak.

He exhorted them likewise to reinforce and strengthen their resolutions of Holiness every day; never despairing under trialls, seeing God first suffers him, whom he intends to advance to eminency in any Vertue, to be assailed with en∣counters from the oposite Vice. He taught them, that the Spirit of devotion was conferred plenti∣fully

at the first, but afterward God made shew of withdrawing himself, that the Soul, thus be∣rest of celestiall consolations, might learn to grow and feed on more solid meat. Moreover he said there were three kinds of spitituall life. The first he called the Animall; wherein men are attracted with a certain sensible devotion as beasts are by their fodder. The second he termed the Rationall; when without any allectives of plea∣sure, men contend for vertue in continuall op∣position of the Passions. The third he intitled Angelicall; when the heat of Passion being allay∣ed, they enjoyed a quiet serenity and peace in the contemplation of God. Of these three be bid his chiefly aim at the second assuring them, that in time they should by Gods grace attain the third.

He counselled young people to be as cautious of avoiding the society of lewd Persons, and of consorting with the civill, as they would be care∣full of receiving the Sacraments, yet he trusted not much to young Persons; for if he heard of any such who were reputed in their youth very forward in the ways of God; he would straight re∣ply; Let them be fledged first, before you judge of their flying.

Those who intended themselves for a Religious House he tried first with severall sorts of Penance; that they might better persevere in their vowed re∣tirement. Whereupon divers of them, which upon his approbation devoted themselves to that course of life, have, when occasion served, avouched, that had not the H. man first proved and examined them thus, they should not long have kept their Cloyster.

He was always jealous of those, whether Laicks or Regulars, that kept not their Stations, but

shifted to this and that and then to a stricter kind of life: for the devill, quoth he, transforming himself into an Angel of light, labours under the false disguises of a more perfect life to seduce men from the right path. Maximianus Burgus of Verona was by a certain Lord entertained into his House, on con∣ditions he should not be put to some employments, that he might have the more leisure to serve God. But the Nobleman breaking his word with him once or twice, Maximianus purposed to leave him; whom the B. man with many and severall argu∣ments perswades to stay, telling him at last; If you run away from this cross, you shall certainly fall into another worse. And so it was; for when he went from his Lord he wandred up and down in con∣tinuall unsettlement.

But though in generall he wished to all this gift of Perseverance, yet did he more especially re∣commend it to them of the Congregation. There∣fore in the first place, he seldome suffered any of them to go out of the City: as may appeare by that which follows. A young man of a very good family was admitted into the Order of the Oratory, he being of excellent parts had raised huge ex∣pectations of himself among all. But, growing somwhat sickly, his friends advised him for his health to change the air; which thing the H. man liked not of, but overcome with urgent intreaties gave him leave to go, the rather for that another of the Congregation was to travell upon earnest bu∣siness into those Quarters. But he whispered some in the ear wich were by; Two indeed shall go hence, but there shall come back but one of them. And his prediction proved true, for the one having dis∣patched his business returned to the City, but the

young man setled himself in his Country: as may be seen by Philips letter sent him, part whereof was to this effect.

Indeed I could have wished, N. you had not parted hence so soon, that so you might have conversed the less-while amongst flesh and bloud distracted between the love of your Mother and Brethren; taught by the example of S S. Mar∣cus and Marcellianus, who valiantly resisting the tortures inflicted, yet moved with their Parents prayers and cries, had well nigh denied Christ, but that the B. Sebastian fortified them in the faith with his pious exhortations. And at the bottom of his letter he added; But now 'tis in your choice, either to stay, or return, since we detain no man against his will.

John Antonius Luccius, intending to go from Rome into his own Countrey, asked the H. mans consent, who would by no means yeild to it, nay opposed it; using that of S. Paul; Puto ego quod Spiritum Dei habeam. And I think that I have the Spirit of God. Yet he went, and never afer re∣turned to the Congregation. The same hapned in like manner to others, who going to their Countries without his likeing, either died there, or else de∣serting the Congregation betook themselves to some other course.

Nor could he willingly suffer them to go from the City so much as to found Congregations in the neighbouring Towns, or to settle such as were al∣ready erected: but by his good will would have them abide constantly at Rome. Which besides that our Fathers do often inculcate this to the Ju∣niors of the Society, may be gathered from his Let∣ters writ to S. Carlo Berromeo; for the wise Prelate

desiring one of Philips Sons to labour in his Vine∣yard, he made this answer.

In regard some of them (speaking of the Priests of the Congregati∣on) are but newly entred upon their Studies, and are yet raw, it passeth my understanding to con∣ceive how it can be convenient, to take them from their Studies without a fault. And a little after, such as are fitly qualified we can in no wise spare, for we our selves need their help most of all; so that if at any time I be forced, upon occasion, to send one away: I even tremble to think on it, and humbly commend my self to the Lord Christ.

Whereby may evidently be seen, what his opinion herein was.

THE THIRD BOOK. of the LIFE of PHILIP NERIUS. Of the Gifts bestowed on him by God.

CHAP. I. His Extasies and Rapts.

ALmighty God, having thus adorned his Servant with the embellishments of so ma∣ny and so rare Vertues, was not want∣ing to him in those unmerited favours, called by

Divines Gratia gratis datae, Graces freely given men, which he also most liberally conferred upon him. First he had many Extasies and strange Raptures, bathing himself daily in the delicious pleasures of celestiall contemplation; though Good man he la∣boured to avoid them all he could, out of his deep Humility.

There was once a weighty cause to be debated before the Pope, whereupon the Fathers Dominicans who were concerned therein ex∣posed the B. Sacrament of the * 1.16 Eucharist for the space of forty hours, within the precincts of their Monastery, where Philip and Franc. Maria Taurusius with some others met. And as the H. man was in most fervent prayer, on the sudden he fell into a Trance, his eyes 〈…〉〈…〉 fixed on the Sacrament, and his who•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 unmoved. They run presently to him, call him by his Name, and feeling his hands, face and b••est find them as cold as ice; so that suspecting some dangerous disease had seized him, they carry him between their hands to his Chamber. Wh•••• ••e had continued so a pretty while, coming at length to himself he cries out, Parta est nobis victoria, ex∣audita est oratio nostra: The victory is ours; our pray∣ers are heard. At which they being amazed ask the reason of his Trance, and what victory he meant. He at first wa•• shy of declaring himself, but at the earnest instance of those which were present, Know then, quoth he, the business that was prayed for shall succeed well. And being questioned about his Extasie, he answered,

That he saw Christ Jesus in the H. Hoast stretching forth his hand and blessing them that prayed and therefore they

ought to render unto God all bounden thanks.

And that very instant in which the servant of God recovered his senses again, news was brought, that the Pope had given sentence for them.

Paulus Recuperatus, Referendary of either Seal, and one whom the Father much esteemed, went one Evening to Confession, he then living at S. Hie∣roms; and found him at Supper with Joh. Animue∣cius a Scholar of his, whom he loved excedingly; He entertains the Prelate very courteously, and hears his Confession, but laying his hand on his head as the manner is, to give him absolution, fell in∣to a most pleasing Trance, that deprived him both of sense and motion; in which posture both of them surprized with wonder and delight, atentively eyed him. Philip at length recovering finished the form of Absolution and quietly dismissed the Prelate. Fa∣bricius de Maximis likewise repaired to him to Confession, and finding his Chamber-door not quite shut, opening it softly espies the H. man standing on Tiptoes, with his hands and eyes lift up to hea∣ven in severall kinds of gestures: he stayes, he looks on a while, and observes what he did. Then approaching nearer salutes him as he used to do; Philip neither seeing nor speaking to him. So Fa∣bricius with great content views the Good old man standing in that manner: till at last he returning from his Extasy, and seeing Fabricius there, asked him how he got in? who told him, he found the Door half open and so came gently in. Philip sits down, and takes his Confession but without men∣tioning a word of the Trance dismissed him. The like hapned to divers others, who comeing to Con∣fession to him, found him sensless.

Once Antonius Gallonius took him in bed like one

that had been dead, and presently sends for the Physicians, who through mistake judging it to be an Apoplexy caused his head to be opened with a hot iron, and severall causticks to be applied to him: John Franciscus Bordinus, supposing he was a draw∣ing on, anoints him with the H. Oyle. When coming to himself again he demands of them why they used him so; they replyed; O Father, you are in a dangerous disease. He smilingly told them; Sons, know, a worse mischief could not befal me than this you have now done. By which they gathered, that it was a Trance, not a disease, that fell upon him.

As he was at Mass he was often in Raptures; as, besides others who aver as much, Cardinall Octavi∣us Paravicinus can testify: who attending on him when he was about Twenty years of age, was an eye∣witness thereof.

When ever he addressed himself to the Pope, fearing he might be surprised, whilst he was with him, he would say to his Sons; Look, that during the time I am with his Holiness, I commit nothing preposterous, or unbeseeming such a presence.

Some there were likewise that saw his whole bo∣dy hoised up into the air; among others Pau∣lo Sfondrato, Cardinall, Priest of the Title of S. Cecily, saw him raised up to the roof of his chamber at his Prayers: a 1.17 which he, as a specta∣tor thereof, related a∣gain to Pope Paul the V.

Joh. Baptista Modius being sick and speechless, so that they thought he would dye, was visited by Philip; who after some expressions of piety and af∣fection, retired to prayers in another private room. At Midnight some of the house seeking for him, whither he was gone, found him in a Chamber, his body elevated, and darting forth Rayes of light, they seeing * 1.18 it shrieked out, the rest at the noise hereof came running in, and beheld him hoised up from the ground, that his head almost touched the Ceiling, cast∣ing a glittering brightness round about him. Re∣turning to his senses he visits the sick again, as though nothing had interven'd, and laying his hand on his head, bad him; Be of good chear, for you shall not dy of this sickness. He had scarce said so but the bed rid person recovered his speech, spake to the B. man, and within a few dayes after grew perfectly well.

He was once at Prayer in the Vatican, before the H. Co••fessionall, as they call it, of the Prince of

the Apostles, when on a sudden he was seen upon his knees caught up into the air, his body and habit re∣maining stil in the same posture, as if he pray'd knee∣ling upon the earth; till by degrees he came down and took his former place. But fearing the praise of men he stole away thence privately: & that the like might not befall him again, he was wont, at his en∣trance into the Church with his Sons, to rise up and to be gone, so soon as ever he had kneeled.

He was seen, as he said Mass, not only in al∣most continuall Extasies, but many times born up on high, as the Religious women of Turris Speculorum had oft observed: some of whom affirm, that they have seen him taken up into the air four handfulls high. A Girl likewise saw him lift up two handfuls from the ground; who being somewhat silly, turn∣ing to her Mother, said, See Mother the Priest is pos∣sest, do you not mark how he is taken up on high? who answered; peace fool, that Priest is a Saint, and there∣fore is entranced thus.

Sulpitia Sirleta, seeing the Servant of God raised about a handful from the steps of the Altar thought with her self; Certainly this man is moved by some evill spirit: but coming afterward to Confession to him, and being ashamed and affraid to discover as much, she begins in a low voice to mutter thus; Father I said; and her voice stopping there, she ut∣tered no more. To whom Philip; Go on thou Mad∣ling what troubles thee? hast thou conceited any ill of me? That is it, replyed she. What was it then? said he. Sulpitia answered; Some three dayes since as you were saying Mass and I saw you lift up into the air: at that, he putting his finger to her mouth said, Peace. But she went on; I said in my heart; This man sure is led by some evill Spirit. With that

he smiled and told her; 'tis true daughter; 'tis true in∣deed, I am moved by an evil Spirit.

Another time Aurelius Baccius of Siena beheld him with a celestiall splendour shining like a Crown about his head. He was celebrating Mass at the high Altar, and as he came to that part of the Can∣on where the Living are commemorated, Aurelius saw him surrounded with a bright Glory like a Di∣adem: and suspecting it might proceed from some indisposition of his sight, to refresh them he diver∣ted his eyes to some other obiect, lest they should dazle, and looking on Philip again sees him in like maner encompassed with a golden lustre; then a third time wipes his eyes with a handkerchief and his fingers, marks the heads of others that were present, but sees no such thing. And fixing his eyes on him again espies the very same splendour as before, which lasted till he had done Mass: but when he had communicated, presently the light dis∣appeared.

Mutius Achilleus also, a Priest of S. Severines, living at Rome, observed him at the celebration of Mass to dart forth glittering beams from about his face.

Vincentius Lanterus, Archbishop of Ragusa, kissing Philips hand once, whilst yet a youth, perceived it all gilded with resplendent Rayes; so that his eyes dazled with the brightnes thereof, and being asto∣nished at it went forthwith to his Confessor, Thomas Bozzius to acquaint him with it. Who bid him, Not think strange for that divers had beheld Philips hand like burnish'd gold.

Last of all a Maid of some twelve years of age had many times seen the H. man at Mass inveloped in a bright cloud, and though he wore a Cope of a different colour according to the diversity of the

season, yet she had never seen him but arrayed in white still. These and divers other Rapts and Ex∣tasies he sustained, of which enough at present.

CHAP. II. His Visions.

FUrthermore God honoured him often with ce∣lestiall Visions; such as these that follow. First, while he was yet a Laick, and desirous to under∣stand the will of God, having not yet determined what course of life to take, he earnestly besought God to make known his mind to him: when lo! a∣bout Sun rise, S. Iohn Baptist appears to him, who having first comforted and refreshed him by his presence, tels him (as Himself afterward certified Cardinall Frederico Borromeo) that he must dwell in the City, no where else, and laying aside all business whatever, should addict himself wholly to the conversion of Souls at Rome. The same was intimated to him in a Vision by the Souls of two Saints, Citizens, that were in Glory; one of which pretending to eat a Crust of dry bread, brake out into these words; The will of God, O Philip, is, that you live in the very heart of the City, as in the solitude of the Desert. By both which apparitions, and what Augustinus Ghettinus, as is before rehears∣ed, told him at Aquae-Salviae, he was sufficiently advertised concerning the choice of his condition.

He prayed once in Christmas time at Church, his sons Constantius Tassonius, and Sebastian the Musici∣an being with him, and while he was in deep medi∣tation on our Lord. behold! Jesus appeared upon the Altar in the likeness of an Infant. And sup∣posing

his Companions had also seen it, he said; Do not ye see the Child Jesus standing on the Altar? They saying No, he perceived the Vision was not discovered to the rest, so quietly went on in his Prayer, without any more words of it.

One time saying Mass, after he had shewen the people the Body of Christ, laying the Hoast down, he staid a good space ere he elevated the Cup; so when Mass was done, as he went from the Altar, he was discerned going to the Vestry to look merrily as one that laughed. Being asked thereupon, why he paused so long between Elevating the Hoast and the Chalice; and why he returned to the Vestry so pleasant; he smiled and laying his hand on his head that put the question to him, hushed up the matter in silence. Yet afterward wearied by ur∣gent intreaties, he at last answered him; Son, when I say Mass, I oftimes behold the Glory of Paradise; but be sure you never open your mouth to any concern∣ing it.

He was divinely favoured with the sight of the Souls of divers, as they went to heaven. Marinus Tosinus, one of the first of the Fraternity of the Most H. Trinity, a Person of great Vertue, whose Life was writ by Bonsignorius Cacciaguerrius, as soon as he departed this life appeared to Philip, calling him twice by his Name; who looking up saw his Soul ascend to heaven wrapt about in light. In the mor∣ning he understood that the man died about the same hour the Vision hapned.

Vincentius the Limner, as he was called, a Holy man, and one of the first of the same Society, pre∣sently after his death shewed himself to Philip all glittering with light, who beheld him as he went to heaven; and going the next day to comfort

his Wife, Your Husband, saith he, knocked at my cham∣ber door to night, and came and recommended you and your family to me: at which words the woman was revived, whom together with her Children, Philip thence-forward relieved with all things necessary.

Marcus Antonius Cortesellus of Como, one whom Philip loved well, died; a man devoted much to Prayer and works of Piety, the Depositary for the Alms conferred on the Capuchins, who had presag∣ed of the H. man thus: This man is known to but a few as yet, but hereafter it shall appear to all, how great a Saint he is. When his Coarse was laid forth on the Beir in S. Katherines Church, nigh unto S. Hieroms a Charitate, Philip went with Antonius Gallonius another Priest accompanying him, to see the body; and having viewed it a while sends for a Painter, and wills him to draw his picture to the life: The other his companion wondring at it; Gallonius bid him, Think not strange of it, for the R. Father had related, how the night before he had seen his Soul in great Clarity appearing to him, holding dis∣course with him about foure or five hours, and passing thence into the heavens.

Fabricius de Maximis had a Daughter of some thirteen years of age, named Helena, a Virgin deep∣ly wounded with the Love of Christ, and rigidly obedient to her Confessor; thrice aweek she receiv∣ed the Body of our Lord, having more appetite to her Prayers than repast: she would bitterly weep over the Passion of our Saviour; and did so much endeavour the vilifying of her self, that she made it her ambition to be a Servant to all; and was exceedingly desirous to suffer for Christs sake, that at least in part she might testify her gratitude to∣ward him; in her last sickness, after that Baronius

had given her the heavenly Viaticum, she saw the Lord Christ besprinkling her Soul with blood; and foretelling the hour of her departure piously de∣ceased. Her Philip saw, as she hastned to the heaven∣ly mansions, Angels singing and attending on her.

His Sons knew likewise, that the state of Peni∣tents in the other world was revealed to him, as soon as they were dead. When Virgil Crescentius died, going to comfort his Children he said to them; Be of good chear: for your Father is received into Glory by Almighty God; I know well what I say: repeat∣ing it again and again. All had so strong an opi∣nion, of his knowing by Revelation whither the Souls of His went, that divers resorted to him for satisfaction therein. John. Antonius Luccius had lately lost his Mother; and requesting Philip to pray to God, and to acquaint him whether his Mother were in a state of Bliss or no; he bid him, Rejoice, for your Mother is certainly in heaven add∣ing; the same thing in a manner befell me, that hap∣ned at the Funerall of my Father as I was praying. By which it would seem, Philips Father, in all likeli∣hood obtained a place of Blessedness at the Prayers of his Son.

There died Joh. Animuccius Master of the Musique in the Vatican, who came every day to the Orato∣ry, and when the sermons were done, ordered the Musique, for he was excellent in that Art, a man of so unblemished a Chastity, that after he had be∣gun by Philips directions to serve Christ, he lived with his Wife as with a Sister: and obtained of God such favour that having all his life been much tormented with scruples, toward his latter end he was absolutely freed from them. Now it hapned, that three years after his death 〈…〉〈…〉

Sermons were ended on a certain day he appeared to one Alphonso a Portuguese; and as they walked to∣gether questioned him on this wise: Is the Oratory newly broke up, It is, replyed Alphonso. Then I pray saith he, intreat Philip from me, to pray to God for me: and therewith vanished. At that Alphonso calling to mind, how Animuccius had been dead long since, stept back to see if it where he, but finding no body comes trembling and quaking to Philip and relates to him the whole story, who en∣joyned him, the day following to draw it up into a brief Narrative, and recite it in the Oratory. Next he gave order that in severall Churches of the Ci∣ty, Masses should be said for the deceased Soul. When all was thus performed, He tells them pub∣likly. Our Animuccius is now gone by: intimating that he passed from Purgatory to Paradise. And hence was it that having oft beheld the Souls of Holy Persons, he affirmed, the Beauty of them was unexpressable.

Besides, being one full of Divine Light, he was able to discerne an excellency and lustre in Souls whilst they were yet in their Bodies. And therfore speaking of the incomparable brightness of S. Ig∣natius's Soul, Founder of the Society of Jesus, while he was yet living; he said, it was so illustrious, that somtimes he could perceive beams flash from his counte∣nance: and that the like hapned to him as he looked in the face of S. Carlo Cardinall Borromeo. He also saw a young mans face sparkle in like manner, who being afterward admitted into the Order of the Dominicans, and called Peter Martyr, was made their Vicar Generall, dying in great reputation for Ho∣liness. Some of the Carthusians also he beheld with sh••ning visages, as they went by couples out of the Quire from Prayers with the rest.

Yet was not He thus only recreated with celesti∣all apparitions, but, for the instruction of others, many times terrified with the sight of Devils. He had given charge once to Anton. Luccius, to read the Exorcismes of the Church over a woman that was possessed, and, to shame the Devill the more, whip her; which he presently did. Wherupon the proud Fiend, enraged at this scorn put upon him, appears the next night to Philip in a horrid shape, vomit∣ing forth a most loathsome stench, which filled the Room, and lasted for a long time after.

Another time, while he lived in S. Hierom's Orato∣ry with his Sons, among whom was Gabriell Pale∣ottus (after ward honoured with the Purple) and, as his use was, conferred about spirituall matters, on the sudden he cries out; O my Brethren, take heed, the Devill stands there. At which words they all kneeled down, but He defying the wicked spirit with the sign of the Cross, roar'd aloud; Thou shalt not enter here: and straight the Fiend vanished.

He went sometime to the Baths of Dioclesian, to see the Church of S. Maria Angelorum and looking a 1.19 up he spied on part of an old stone wall an evill spirit, shifting himself into severall forms, now of an old, then of a young man, one while handsom, by and by ugly. Philip knowing that he assumed those shapes to delude him, imploring the Divine aid commands him to be gone, at which he immediatly departed, polluting the air with noisome vapour: for the impure Spirit used, as oft as he shewed himself to the H. man, to an∣noy him with these filthy stinks. It was most what a smell of Sulphur, and continued long, and only he

smelt it; yet sometimes, though but seldome, some of his were affected with it. He once laid his hands on a woman that was possest, as the Priests manner is, and it seems they retained that filthy sent, so that though he washed them in sweet water, and scoured them with Nitre, yet they would not be clean; he made his Penitents smell sometimes to this stink, that so being offended with the lothsom∣ness thereof they might more carefully learn to abhor and avoid the filthyness of sin.

As he was on a time at Church, a devill in like∣ness of a Boy came and mocked him, blowing his Nose with a handkerchief; but Philip with a mena∣cing countenance looking on him, put him to flight and shame. Then asking Gallonius, if he saw the Boy, he answered; yes, Know, quoth Philip, it was no Boy; but the Fiend, that came to tempt the faithfull who were at Church.

Indeed the Envious spirit was so malicious against him, that he continually wrought him mischief: appearing to him in hideous and ugly shapes; some∣times fouling his apparell; otherwhiles removing huge Logges and Beams of timber to and fro; then putting out his Candle, and making a noise; ly∣ing in wait perpetually for him night and day. All which by the help of the B. Virgin he easily over∣came with undaunted courage.

By these frequent apparitions, both from God and from the Devil unto him, it came to pass, that as oft as he spake to his Sons of this Argument, he constantly asserted that Doctrine of the Saints;

That they were not things to be stood on. Neither could he by any means approve their spirit, that eagerly sought after such things; neither did he think it sufficient, for one to say: I regard not Visi∣ons;

therefore such as are illusions shall not befall me: because these many times hapned also to those, who are no wayes desirous of Visions. That it was a hard matter, not to be puffed up with them; a harder, to count ones self not worthy of them; but most difficult of all, to judg ones self utterly unwor∣thy thereof, and not to prefer such Visions before Vertues and a solid piety. He said likewise, those Visions were to be rejected, at least, with much caution to be received, that neither profited the Church, nor ones self, promoting neither the publick nor private good of others. He fore∣warned Confessors, that they should make but light account of the Revelations of Penitents, of women especially, for that women presently ima∣gine themselves at the top of perfection, but in process of time you will find the Sanctity they pretend to, savours either of vanity or hypocrisy: and that many such have fallen foully, and end∣ed unhappily. Therefore going once into the Pulpit to preach, finding himself beginning to be in an Extasy and labouring by all force to sup∣press it, he strook his hand upon his thigh, saying, He that pursues after Visions and Trances, knows not what he doeth: so bursting forth into teares he departed. Another time when a Scholar of his preached about some such subject to the People, getting up into the Chair on the sudden he began thus: I know a Religious woman, that had many Trances, at length by the Divine Providence so it was, she never had any more. When think ye, O my Auditors, that I prized her most? Then certainly when her Extasies ceased: and having so said went out of the Desk.

Some had told him, how a Virgin of the third

Order of S. Dominic had seen Christ divers times, but frequently the B. Katharine of Siena; his answer was Doubtless women are easily seduced: therefore bid her from me as oft as shee sees the like shadows again, spit boldly in their faces. The Maid observed his directi∣ons, and acknowledged she received much benefit thereby.

One night the Devill, in the likeness of the Mo∣ther of God, came to Franc. Maria, called Ferrari∣ensis, one of Philips first Sons. Which relating early in the morning to Philip, he told him; That was not the B. Virgin, as you thought, but the Devil which appeared to you: therefore when you see him again, spit in his face, and fear not. The cafty Devil coming again, he confidently spat upon him, which the proud Feind taking in scorn vanished straight into air. When forthwith behold the H. Virgin indeed discovers her self to him from heaven; and he as∣saying to spit at her; Spit saith she, if thou canst. Which he trying to do felt his tongue so dry, that he could by no means spit. Then she added farther You did well in obeying your Confessor; and there∣with departed, leaving him affected with exceed∣ing great joy.

Ant. Fuccius a Physician, formerly named, had the charge of a certain Nun much famed for piety. She on a time fell into an extasy, he watching, her till she came again to her senses: when waking suddenly, saith she to him; O with what wonderfull light did I see thee encircled in the heavens! All which Antony diligently observing relates again to Philip and the same day sickened; his disease encreasing on him, the Father of Lies like a Physician comes to him to deceive him, promising that he should speedily recover, and live a long time after. The

patient acquaints the H. man with what had hapned who being enlightned from above tells him it was not a Physician, but Satan, who had vainly assured him his life. Fuccius understanding the Devils subtil∣ty hereby, resigns up himself to the Divine pleasure, dying very happily soon after. So that Philip u∣sed▪ upon occasions still, carefully to admonish his, not lightly to credit Visions, such especially as promised longer life; saying, It was far less danger not to believe true, than to believe false o••••s.

He affirmed it was a pernicious error, to give credit to the events of Dreames. Matthias Maffeus, a Priest who beyond the power of Nature, being restored to health, upon the B. mans prayers, dreamt a dream, which he came with a purpose to tell Philip as a pleasant and regular one, and much conducing to encouragement in vertue: the Father preventing him, asked, Whether he believed Dreams? He taking that opportunity presently relates his dream: but the B. man looking sternly on him de∣manded, To what purpose is all this? Away with it: It is necessary, he that would be reckoned among the ce∣lestiall Saints should be a good man; but not, that he heed any Dreams, that he shall be so.

CHAP. III. He foretelleth the Deaths of divers.

MOreover also was he enlightned with the Gift of Prophesy, by the Father of lights. For to begin at that first, which men fear most, He fore-told the Death of sundry persons. Constantius Tassonius, oft mentioned above, being called from

Millan to Rome by Pope Pius the V. of B. Memory, coming directly to S. Hieroms alighted off his horse, whom one * 1.20 of Philips Sons, spying out of a window, informs the H. man, how Tassonius was at the Gate. He commands Octavius Paravicinus and Germanicus Fidelius, both at that time Young men, to ly at the Threshold of the Door, where Tassonius was to pass, as though they were dead. They did so, and Tassonius seeing them laid all along in that fashion was something troubled, and stopt: at length desired of them room to pass by, they lay still, till the Father bid them rise; when Constantius ran to the embracing of Philip. And shortly after sickned and died; as the Good man by that passage had hinted to him.

a 1.21 Joh. Angelus Cribellius, being very well, came on a Maunday Thursday to the H. man to Confession; who looking wistly on him said. Prepare your self; for God requires something of you. Let him replyed he, do whas seems good in his eyes: my heart is ready for all. What if God, saith he, should in the highest manner afflict you? I should willingly undergo all, by the grace of Christ; answered Cribellius. Then be ready, quoth Philip, for this Easter God will call you. So departing he was taken that Evening with a Fever, of which he died within four dayes.

He once called to Franc. a Molaria upon the sud∣den, asking him; What would you do, if your Wife should dy? her Name was Fulvia de Cavaleriis. I know nor, saith he, Then consider on't with your self: quoth he. Away went the man; and his Wife,

though young and lusty, within ten dayes was seiz∣ed with a violent Fever, and the fifteenth day died.

Hieron. Cordelius's Wife sent the Good man word that her Husband, one whom Philip loved, and an able Physici∣an, * 1.22 was sick. And while one of his Sons went down to the Gate, to know what the Messenger would, Philip said to himself; O Hierom Cordelius! alass be will cer∣tainly dy; his hour is now come: repeating it often over. Those who were by admired at it; for he that went to the Gate had not yet told him of Hie∣roms being ill; but the news of his sickness com∣ing to him soon after, he continued in the same Note still: insomuch that they who were present, said; Then Father if the body be past hope, let us at least take care for the Soul. At which he; True in∣deed, let us take care for the Soul; About eight dayes after, one bringing him a light, as he used to do, before day: What saith he, Cornelius died to night, at such an hour did he not? but perceiving, that he knew nothing of it; he talked of something else. In the morning they found, that Hierom died that very hour the Father mentioned. Yea once, in some words that passed between him and Cardinall Augustinus Cusanus, He averred, that he was miraculously present, as he lay a dying; saying Though when Cordelius died, I staid in my Chamber, yet was I by him at the instant of his departure.

Orinthia, the Wife of Pompeius Columna, one e∣minent for her Noble Extract, but much more, for the accomplishments of vertue, visiting frequently the sick women in Hospitalls, especially the Incurable, and doing them all charitable offices, fell dange∣rously ill. Her chief Doctors told her, it was but a

slight malady; but she sends for Philip, as relying more upon him; He after a long discourse about di∣vine matters, as he was about to go away, dipt his finger in a little Holy water, and crossed her as she lay; recommending to her Meditation the Passion of our Lord. Going from the Palace the Physicians met him, He tels them, Orinthia is very ill. They laughed, Do you make a jest of it saith Philip take it from me, she will dy such a day. At that they burst into a louder laughing. But the day Philip had na∣med, Orinthia died.

Helena Ciba, and her Husband Dominicus Maz∣zeus fell both sick. When Tami∣ria Cevola, Helen's Mother, go∣ing * 1.23 to the H. man about them, told him I fear Father I shall lose both my Daughter, and son in Law. He answered, One is enough: and said no more. The event made good his words; for Dominicus died, and Helena recovering forsook the World, and betook her to a Monastery.

Her Sister Victoria came once to Philip to Con∣fession; and being asked, how long it was since she saw her Si∣ster * 1.24 in Turris Speculorum; she answered, Not a great while. See quoth he, you visit her ofter, for she will dy ere it be long. And within few dayes after, she that was so healthy and strong, took her Bed, and in Eighteen days space died.

Marcellus Ferrius had appointed to accompany the Cardinall of Gambara, that was to go from the City on an Embassy; Philip bad him; Do it not, for your Father will shortly dy. Marcellus took his coun∣sell, and some twenty days after, h••s Father, who was then very well, de••ased.

The like befell Alexander Crescentius, and Joh. Franc. Bucchius; to the former he said; Fit your self, for you will * 1.25 suddenly dy: to the other; Your brother shall not out live this sick∣ness. And so it was, for the first died, soon after, and the others brother never recovered.

Virgill. Crescentius fell sick, and though at first his disease was made light of, yet the H. man, com∣ing to see him, said to his Wife Constantia: you must rest contented with the will of God. She being a dis∣creet woman apprehended what his speech did por∣tend: and taking him aside kneeling and weeping together she begged of him, that he would be pleased to pray for her husbands health.

Then the Children, coming all * 1.26 about him, together with their Mother requested the same of him: He plainly tels them; It is best for Virgil, to dy now; and therfore you must be satisfied. A few days after he died. Philip afterward affirmed, that, as oft as he went to pray for his recovery, he found no access, but it was answered him from within, that he must needs dy, for his Soul's good.

The like hapned to Patricius de Patriciis, who seemed to be but slightly ill, and said, he would rise next day; whom Philip commanded to be forthwith prepared with the Sacraments, which having receiv∣ed he died, his Will scarce finished. The B. Father so highly esteemed of this man, that, after his death, He recommended himself to his intercession.

Desiderius Consalvius, of the Order of Predicants, was sick of a violent Fever, which drave him into a Frenzy, and he * 1.27 now lay a dying. At the same

time Franc. Bencinius fell ill in the same Monastery, but in less perill: Philip visits them both; presaging death to Bencinius, to Consalvius life; and so it hapned; for this, recovered, the other died

Last of all He foretold the Cardinall S. Carlo Borromeo's death; long before it came. Ceccolinus Margaraccius of S. Severines, the Pope's Protonotary, whom the R. Father preferred to the family of S. Carlo, writ to Philip to procure him leave of the Cardinall, to go into his Country for four moneths. He writ him word again thus: It shall not need to move the Cardinall herein, for there will an accident happen, which shall forbid your return to that family. Margaruccius knew not then, what Philip meant, but the death of S. Carlo following soon after, he fully understood the purport of his Letter The H. man wrote his Letter a full moneth before the B. Cardinall died; when, as yet, there was not the least suspicion of any disease.

CHAP. IV. He foretelleth the recovery of divers

ANd lest any, should think Him a bringer of ill news only, and a Messenger of death, 'twill be worth the while, in a few instances to observe, how he oftimes proved to many the welcome Harbinger of life and health. A high Fever, with a Flux of bloud, had seized on Cardinall Franc. Sforza, then retired unto his Country-house, which in two and twenty days so increased, that he could take no sus∣tenance,

but discovered very desperate Symptoms of approaching death, for which he was prepared by the Sacramentall Refection. His Mother Katharine dispatches straight a sure messenger to Philip. to desire him, to remember her sick Son in his Prayers to God. He sends word again, the Cardinall should not dy of that sickness; upon which answer he be∣gan to mend, and in short time was restored to per∣fect health.

Pet. Mercator Miniatensis the Physician judged that his Son Michael was in great danger of death, who was also well skilled in Physick: Philip affirmed the contrary. The next day Peter pronounced, his Son could not escape; but Philip cried: Believe, thou of little faith; for God hath reserved him to a longer time. In short, Michael not only regained his for∣mer health, but, was many years after Physician to Clement the VIII. and chosen into the number of Prelates. Whose recovery now, and afterward his end was foretold him by the H. man.

Joh. Baptista Altovitus lay sick, whom the Doctors affirmed to be past cure. But Phi∣lip, after he had prayed for him, * 1.28 calls Franc. Maria Taurusius, bid∣ding him; Go tell Altovitus from me; you shall not dy of this sickness, but to morrow you shall mend, and in a short time be well a∣gain. He went, and did so; and he recovered.

Bartholom. Dottius, of Modena, was ill of a Fever once, and having an office at Court, being one of the Guard, his Nephew desires Philip to pray for his Vncle, chiefly upon this intention, that so he might confer his office on him. The H. man told him; Your Vncle shall not dy now, but upon his next sickness shall, and yet not leave you his place. So Dottius got

rid of that malady, but died a few years after of a∣nother; without conferring his Office on his Nephew.

Olympia de Nigris. the wife of Marcus Antonius Vitelleschius, fell dangerously ill, being taking with a successive triple Fever. Hieron. Cordelius, who at∣tended her in her sickness; told her husband, none ever recovered of such a disease. But Philip, going to see her, said, he would by no means Olympia should dy, for that, her death would turne to the great detriment of that Family; adding, that he would so effectually solicit God that she should be perfectly restored. No sooner was Philip gone, but Olympia found her disease gone too; and her self in a short space well, beyond the opinion of the Physicians and those about her,

Hierom. Pamphilio, not yet Cardinall, lay sick unto death, whom the H. Father visited twice aday; but the violence of his disease growing upon him, moved thereunto by the H. Spirit, holding the sick mans head in his hands, He prayed over him, trembling every joint. When he had done pray∣ing, Now quoth he, be of good courage, for you shall not dy, having said so, the patient soon after re∣attained his former strength. The same Cardinall also hath left in writing, that the like befell his Nephew Alexander.

Faustina Cencia, Wife to Car. Gabrielius, hav∣ing bin long sick lay a drawing on. Philip com∣ing to see her layes his hand on her head, saying, Doubt not, for you will not dy of this sickness, She re∣plying O Father, I am even dead already: he an∣swers; Be of good chear; I warrant you, you shall not dy of this disease. And his promise was not in vain, for the fury of her malady having spent it self, and being asswaged, she grew as well in health as ever.

Constantia Draco as it were breathing out her last, saith Philip to her; Doubt not; for ere long you shall grow * 1.29 strong and lively again, and come to S Hierome's. She find∣ing it so indeed, thereupon chose him for her Confessor.

The like hapned to the wife of Joh. Franc. Buc∣chius, who being at the last gasp, the Brothers of the Confrateruity of the Florentines being sent to, about burying the Corps, Philip bad her Husband; Chear up, your Wife will not dy of this disease. He believ∣ing him, was not disappointed of his expectations; for to the astonishment of all, she that lay nigh dead was restored to longer life.

Joh. Anton. Luccius, oft mentioned already, aged about threescore going to Rome, his Horse flung him, and with the fall put his shoulder out of jont, leav∣ing him for dead to all mens thinking, upon which followed a Fever. He straight sends for Philip, both to give him Absolution for his sins, and to pray for him, withall that he might not dy in∣testate, his malady growing so fast upon him. Phi∣lip lovingly embracing him saith; Doubt not, you will have leisure enough to make your will in, and dispose of your estate to your owne wish. So when he had made an end of his Confession, he began to mend and in a few dayes was very well; who surviving the H. Father distributed well nigh his whole means upon the Poor.

Upon his pronouncing the same words, Doubt not, Joh. Franc. de Bernardis, Priest of the Congregation, presently re∣vived, * 1.30 beyond the apprehension of all, when he had been anoin∣ed

with the Sacred Oile as he lay a dying. Agnesina Columna, one of the most eminent Matrons in Rome, both for Nobility and Pi∣ety, recovered of a disease, in which the Physicians judged her past all hopes, upon his meer saying, Doubt not, as he used to do. So likewise did Joh. Babtista Cribellius, in a Fever; and divers others, in the very pangs of death recover∣ed, whom he had foretold should live. As is at∣tested by the experience of Montes Zazzara and ma∣ny others.

CHAP. V. Sever all other Predictions of His.

SUndry other Predictions there are of Philips. Sul∣pitia Sirleta, the Wife of Pet. Focilis, had a Daughter, of some four years old, which was very sick; the Mother sends for Philip, beseeching him a∣gain and again with tears, to procure her Daugh∣ters recovery; Forbear your weeping, saith he, now God calls her, 'tis sufficient for you, that you have nursed her up for Christ. Sulpitia paused at this, as loth to assent to him: to whom Philip; are you not contented? you shall have a Son, but shall be un∣happy in him, he will so vexe you. Two years and a half after, she was brought a bed of a Boy: who when he was grown up, never left disquieting and grieving his Parents, till he came to an ill end.

Helena Ciba, being in violent throws of Child-birth, sent for the B. man to confess to; and after Confession, desired him to be God-father to her child

when it was born; it will not need, quoth he, any God-father: and so departed. That night Helen was delivered of a still-born Child.

A Brother of the Congregation was earnestly im∣portuned by his Father to leave the Oratory; for that he had got four or five thousand Crowns by wa∣gers and Bets, a thing then in use; and he hoped to procure some fat Benefice for his Son being a Scholar. He to avoid his Fathers solicitations, de∣sires Philip, to let him retire to Naples, for a time who assented to it. So packing up for his journey, and hiring a horse, when he was ready to go, Philip better considering of it, denies him leave, bidding him Doubt not, And some three moneths after, his Father, having lost all the money he had won at play left troubling his son.

Olympia de Nigris, having had seven Daughters, desired a Son; so coming to the H. man, confident of speeding, she said; Father I have seven Daughters: Doubt not, quoth he, you shall have no more Daughters. And within three years, she had three Sons; who, thinking her Charge too great, comes again, and tels him; Now Father, I have three Boys. Go, saith he, hereafter you shall neither have Sons nor Daughters: and it fell out just as he spake.

He went one time to the Religious House Turris Speculorum, and out of Devotion visited the old Church, seated in the innermost part of it, four of the Nuns attending him. As he went, he bids one of them; Go to Prayer: who answered, she had no leisure, by reason of her many employments. One of the four, Maria Magdalena Anguillaria, then in her Prime, asked him; Father what say you to me? who neither follow my Prayers, nor do any thing else. You, quoth Philip, indeed do nothing now; but yet you shall

be an Abbess: at which the rest burst out in laughing. The Good man merrily asked; What, do you laugh? one of these dayes you will say, Philip long ago told us as much: and turning to Magdalen, who laughed lowder then the rest, he said frowning; And do you laugh? Remember Philip told it you. So it fell out, forty years after this, in the year one thousand six hundred thirty five. Those that had been Ab∣besses all dying, Hieronyma Taschia, who then go∣verned losing her fight they were forced to chuse another; which was Maria Magdalena Angaillaria, as Philip had presaged.

Marcus Antonius Columna, that renouned Gene∣nerall, and Felix Ʋrsina his wife, were in a great heaviness, because Fabricius their son had no Issue: whereupon Anna Borromea his wife, Sister to S. Carlo Cardinall Borromeo being very desirous of Is∣sue, recommended her self most devoutly to the prayers of Philip, who bid her, Be contented, for shortly you shall have two Children. Within a year after, she bare a son named Marcus Antonius; and next year another, whom for the blessing obtained them by the H. man, they called Philip. Yea be∣ing no less reputed for holiness, than for her ex∣traction, she termed them both Philips Sons, on the same grounds.

Thomas Minerbettus and Pet. Anton Morellus, came to him once, from a Priest of the Society of Jesus, to advise with him about matters for the Soul. Pet. Antonio had a mind, to go into a Monastery of the Cassinenses; Thomas to be a Priest: and both ex∣pecting his answer. Philip touching Morrellus with a staff he had in his hand, told him, You shall not be a Monk: then turning to Thomas, Nor you, quoth he, a Priest. And so it proved; for Thomas mar∣ried,

and Peter Antony died an Ordinary Priest at S. Flora's.

Othonellus Othonellius a Commander came from Mo∣dena to Rome, to consult with some there, about instituting a Nunnery in his own Country, but meeting with many rubs, at last Germanicus Fidelius brought him to Philip: who, though he never knew him, yet at first sight said to some Priests that were by; Take notice of this man, he shall be one of your Fraternity. Then asking him, What Profession he was of: he answered, a Souldier. You shall not long be a Souldier, replied he, but a Brother to these here: and laying his hand on him dismist him. He was then a Souldier, and Married, having divers chil∣dren, both Boys and Girles; yet after the B. mans death, his Wife, Sons, and most of his Daughters dying, and the rest going into a Monastery, in the year one thousand six hundred and nine, he entred into H. Orders, and soon after putting himself into the Covent of the Scholae piae, as he had lived very vertuously, so he made a holy end.

In the year One thousand five hundred siventy six, four of the Congregation went to Millan, upon some business for * 1.31 the Oratory: and while they staid there, Philip on the sudden sends for Taurusius, bidding him, Dis∣patch and write to them at Mil∣lan, to make all hast to Rome presently. Taurusius answered, it was not for certain reasons conveni∣ent, that they should just then return: the H. man replies leave Disputing, and without demurrs, do as you are bid. Strange! the Letter was no sooner come to Millan, but the City began to be in∣fected with the Plague, which raged so sore, that

two of those four, though they staid but a very small while, were scarce able to get to Rome; yet when the Letters were writ, there was not the least suspicion of Pestilence at Millan.

A certain Priest had a suit in the City about the Title of a Living, and because he could not carry it against * 1.32 his adversary, who overbore him, he intended to Pistoll him; upon which resolution omit∣ting both the saying Mass, and the recitall of his Office, he comes one time to the Church of the Oratory, where beholding Philip he perceived himself so sensibly attracted by him, that he could not chuse but go to him; Philip, twitching him lightly by the left ear, said; you are tempted, are you not? I Father, saith he, I am; and so violently, that except God prevent me, I am like to commit a heynous crime. Doubt not, saith Philip, you will be freed of that trouble within these fifteen dayes. With that the man startled, and at the time appointed, his Adversary meeting him, said, I yield you the cause, for he that was my chief Friend is displaced. The Priest admired at i••, and calling to mind, what Philip had told him, thank∣ed God, for keeping him from so foul an act.

The like befell Horatius Riccius a Jerusalem Knight, an intimate friend of Cardinall Frederic Borromeo's. He being much displeased at some Courtiers, that had touched him somewhat too near in point of Honour, rose very early to walk, and by chance met Philip, who asked him, whither he went; he answers, to recreate my mind a lit∣tle: Philip understanding the reason by Divine illuminations, takes away the Knight with him,

to some other business he had; but coming too soon, they were fain to tarry there two hours; in which space the Father falls a reading to himself in a devout Book. The Knight who came out to walk, chafed extreamly, that he should in cour∣tesy be kept there against his will, when Philip coming to him, bids him; Doubt not: all shall go well; say I told you so. The Knight hereupon took courage, out of a confidence he had, upon the H. mans words: and fifteen dayes after, Cardinall Bor∣romeo, being informed of the proceedings, dis∣carded them his Court who had wronged him, and in favour to him, preferred him to be one of the Bed Chamber to Pope Clement the VIII.

Dominicus Rodulphus, a Regular Priest, travelling through Rome from Naples to Cremona, and hear∣ing of the great sanctity of Philip, repairs to him: so taking him attending on the hearing Con∣fessions, he salutes him, to whom the H. man, Go on, whither Duty of Obedience calls you; and there watch for the good of Souls; and know, in due time you shall be a Bishop: but let me forewarn you of an eminent danger that awaits you in your journey, which by Gods Blessing, and the Virgins Aid, you shall escape. So as he went to Cremona, coming to the Alps, which looked toward Florence, he sunk into a Bog on the sudden, with his horse under him, where he stuck fast mired up to the throat. In which perill, those who were by, unable to help him, commended his soul to God, as the manner is: then Rodulphus, remembring Philips words, craved his assistance; be∣stirring him with his hands, and etching out by degrees, till at length he by little and little craw∣led half-dead out of that clammy mud: his horse they could scarce draw forth with the strength of

four Oxen. When he came to Cremona, he ad∣dicted himself to the exercise of Piety, and devo∣tion, till the year one thousand six handred nineteen, in which, as Philip foretold of him, he was elected Bishop of Auria.

CHAP. VI. He foretells others of their being made Popes and Cardinalls.

ONce Peter Aldobrandine, James Abbot Crescen∣tius, and Marcellus Vitelleschius, with some o∣thers were together at the B. mans chamber, who commanded Peter on the sudden, thus to bespeak his companions. Philip wills me to tell you, I must shortly be honoured with the Title of Illustrissimo, (which was then given to Cardinalls) and that hereafter ye shall hardly have access to me. Peter out of the reverence he bore to the H. man, did so, yet not without blushing. A while after, no man suspecting ought, Pope Innocent the IX. dies, Hip∣politus Aldobrandinus being elected Pope, and Peter made a Cardinall with the Title of Illustrissimo. A little before, Philip had said to him jestingly; See to what straights I am driven, that must be forced to call you, the Most Illustrious.

John Francis Aldobrandin, Generall in chief of all the Ecclesiasticall Militia, seeing one time in Phi∣lips chamber two Cardinalls Escucheons hanging a∣gainst the Wall, whose bearing was Two Deaths-heads, he asks what those Deaths heads with the Cardinalls Hats beto ened. They s••gnifie, saith he, that when I am dead, two of my Congregation shall

be chosen Cardinalls. And indeed after his de∣cease, Francis Maria Taurusius of Monte Pulciano, and Caesar Baronius of Sora, Priests of the Congrega∣tion of the Oratory, were by Clement the VIII. dig∣nified with the Purple. Yea twenty years before Philip told Francis Neri as much, who asking him further, whether Baronius should be Pope, he an∣swered; He should not. And upon the vacancy of the See, by the death of Clement the VIII. when Baronius was by all salu••ed as Pope, Francis stood stiffly in it, that it would never be, for Philip had so assured him long before.

In like manner he foretold Hierom Pamphilio of his being Cardinall, as he himself testifyed in these words.

Going once to the B. man, as he lay sick in bed, to disburden my conscience to him, he thus spake to me; You are desirous to be a Car∣dinall. I answered; I never had any such thought he replyed; Indeed you shall be one: at which I laughed to my self. And he often with an asseveration affirmed; You shall certainly be a Cardinall.

Thus Hierom. who long after the Fathers death was advanced to that dignity by Clement the VII.

Innocentius Cardinall de Bubalo avouched this up∣on oath.

The B. Father oft told me I should be chosen one of the Canons of the Vatican, which I, as being unknown to the Pope, and seeing no liklyhood for me to expect such a preferment, put off with a jest: and the more he averred it, still I the less believed it. When lo! in the year One thousand five hundred ninety four, If I mistake not, about the first of August, Cardinall Aldobrandi••us unexpectedly comes to me, and tells me the Pope had conferred a Prebendary of

S. Peters that was vacant on me, at that time neither seeking, nor so much as thinking on it. Some few dayes after, as I staid with the B. Fa∣ther, he seeing me very joyfull upon the obtain∣ing my Canonry, said; These are but petty matters, you shall be taken into the Colledge of Cardinals, at which I laughing aloud, because it seemed not only unlikely, but to me impossible, yet Philip daily had it up still. And when afterward I was by the Divine Providenc••▪ and the favour of Cle∣ment the VIII. made Cardinall, I perceived the H. man had oft presaged this my advancement unto my Sister Silvia, a Devota in Turris Specu∣lorum:

who when I once lay sick in France, would still confidently say, I should not dye of that sick∣ness, forasmuch as the B. Philips prediction must be first fulfilled.

Cardinall Francis Diatristano left written in Lat∣in to this purpose.

When I lived in Rome at Pope Clement the Eighths Court being one of his Bed∣chamber, and his Gentleman, the Most Illustrious and R. Cardinall Peter A'dobrandin, the Popes Brothers Son, at that time Governour of the Cast∣le of S. Angelo, took me with him one day to the famous Church of S: Mary's of the Oratory, and so to the House. Where after he had visited the Father, the now Blessed Philip Neri, I was brought in to him; so soon as the Venerable old man be∣held me, presently stepping aside into another Room, he takes out of a Chest a Cardinals red Hat old and worn, which laughing he puts upon my head, and looking on them who were by, he said in Italian; O che bell Cardinalino: O what a brave Cardinall he'l make! I not knowing the Illumina∣tions by which he afar off discerned things to

come, blushed, and was a litle displeased, that I, because a youth, should thus be mocked by the Old man, (I confess my folly and infirmity here∣in) but my own modesty, the authority of the Person, and the respect due unto the Company, gave check to my Passion: and not long after, the success hereof confirmed the action of the Reli∣gious Father, and condemn'd my heat: yea I my self condemn it, who▪ now requested thereto, have, to thy honour Most B. Philip, with my own hand subscribed this relation, and do declare it for true, witness my hand and seale.

And for Popes; He, as oft as the See was vacant, still used to hear a Voice, that distinctly told him, which of * 1.33 the Cardinals should be Pope. Insomuch as when Pius the IV. died, about. four or five. days before a new Pope was created, on the sudden Philip looking earnestly up to heaven, said, in a kind of Rapt: On Monday we shall have a Pope: one of his Sons asked him, Who? I will tell you, saith he: On Monday toward e∣vening, the Cardinall of Alexandria shall be elected Pope. Which was Pius the V. of B. and Glorious Memory, whom long before he had said should be Pope.

After the death of Pius Quintus, in the vacancy of the See again, the foresaid Penitent, remembring, how the Cardinall of Alexandria was nominated by the H. man, to be the next Pope, asked him Who should now be Pope: Why, quoth he, whom do the people talk of? Moronus, saith he; It is not Moro∣nus, replied the Father, but Boncompagno. Who was Gregory XIII. of Pious and Happy Memory.

Again, when Xystus Quintus died, Cardinall Ni∣cholas Sfonderato coming to Vallicella, the Father sent one to desire, that he would be pleased to tarry below in the Hall, till he came down to him; for there were with him Pet. Paulus Cresentius, after∣ward Cardinall of the H. Church of Rome, Abbot Iames, his own Brother, Marcellus Vitelleschius and others. As soon as Philip came down, before he did any thing else he made them all humbly Kiss the feet of Sfondrato: a day or two after, the same Cardinall coming to the Oratory again, Francis de Molaria acquaints Philip that he was come; who asked; Who, the Pope is it not? for the H. man by Divine Inspiration saw him as it were sitting already in S. Peters Chair. And not only when the See was void, but even in Xystus's life time, as Sfondrato was with him in his Chamber, he said to one of his Sons; Open that Trunk there quickly, and give me out thence the Popes Hat (being one of Pins the Fifths of Glorious Memory) which when he had ta∣ken of him, he reached forth his hand, to put it up∣on the Cardinall, saying; Let us try how well this Pontificall Cap fits your head. And Vrban the VII. dying, Sfondrato stept up into the Apostolicall Chair by the name of Gregory the XIIII.

But strangely remarkable was his Prediction of Cardinall Hippolytus Aldobrandinus's being Pope: for the said Cardinall being with Augustine Car∣dinall of Cusa, in Curtius de Maximis his Gardens, by the Way Septimia, where Philip by chance was; Curtius coming a litle nearer said; Father I would intreat you to prefer me to the acquaintance of Cardi∣nall Aldobrandine. That I will, answered Philip; and I tell you further, Aldobrandin shall not dy a Cardinall, And some four moneths after Inno∣cent

the Ninth dying, Hippolitus was advanced unto the See. And which is more yet to be wondred at, he not only affirmed he should be Pope, but told his Name too,; for speaking to Abbot Maffa one evening, Aldobrandin, saith he, shall be made Pope, and his Name shall be Clement.

That of Leo the XI. who succeeded Clement the VIII. in the Popedome is also observable. He was then a Laick, and Embassador for the Pope to the Great Duke of Tuscany, whom Philip told openly; You shall be both Cardinall and Pope, but soon after shall dy: comprising a threefold Prediction in those words concerning him; that he must be Cardinall and Pope and not live long: for he was Pope but twenty six days. These things although this B. man most evidently and clearly discerned, yet he uttered them most what in a jesting way: charging his Sons, at no time to give credit, or very rarely, to such things as these in regard they so extreamly tended to, and opened a gap for, Illusions.

CHAP. VII. He beholds things absent, as if present.

FUrther, this B. man, full of Divine Revelations, beheld things far distant, as though they had bin near at hand. Once Baronius came to him to Confession whom he * 1.34 in no wise would hear, but bid him; Go to the Hospitall of Santo Spirito, and visit the Sick; he answered; that the usuall hour of ministring to the Sick was past. Break off these delays replies the

Father, and do your Duty. So he went, and prying among the Beds of them that were Sick, he found one having a Crucifix, and a Taper burning by him, as being in the pangs of death, who, by reason that he came into the Hospitall at the hour, when the Confessor of the place had newly performed his office, and was gone, lay there without having made his Confession. Baronius, coming nearer, demanded, whether he had confessed his sins? he answered No. Thereupon he took care for a Confessor to come and hear his Confession, give him the H. Eucharist, and administer unto him what was requisite; which was no sooner done, but he departed: Baronius returning and acquainting Philip with what hapned, saith He, Caesar, hence forward learn more to prize the Vertue of Obedience.

Taurusius came once to Confession to him, who ask'd him; Ho you, what's be∣come of that honest and vertu∣ous * 1.35 woman? how long is it since you saw her? Make hast quickly, for I am much troubled for the saving of her Soul. She was •• very diligent and carefull Attendant on the Hos∣pitall of S. Iames of the Incurabili. Away ran Taurusius, and finds the Woman with a Cross at her Beds-hed, breathing her last: whom, what by his Prayers, and Exhortations, he greatly relieved in that her last Agony. The like befell a certain Commander, to whom Philip dispatched some to look him out, who found him a drawing on, and were assistant to him in his last Conflict.

As Antony Fantinio was going to Vallicella one time, somthing hapned to him by the way, for which Philip chid him shrewdly, so soon as he came

home; telling him the whole carriage of the busi∣ness, and the particular circumstances. At which he was exceedingly appalled, as being confident, Philip could no wayes come to the knowledg there∣of, but by Divine Inspiration, both because none saw what was done, and likewise because he could not possibly, in so short space of time, have learnt so large a story from any ones Relation.

Once the Servant of God was going along with his Scholars, among whom was Marcellus Ferrius, who attests this. As he went, on a sudden the Spi∣rit excited him, he put his hand to his mouth, and asked Ferrius; What Guests were those you entertain∣ed at your house of late? He told them who they were: Take heed, saith he, for they came to do so•••• outrage, and except you remedy it speedily, there will murder ensue. Marcellus looked pale at that, and hastening home, narrowly sifts into their counsells, and discovers it to be as Philip certifyed him, so rendring thanks to God, wisely dismissed them, and secured his house.

Paulus Recuperatus Referendary of both Seals, had spoken privately over night with a Residentiary of S Peters about business, who going next morning to Philip to S. Hieroms on some other occasions, He immediately repeated the whole discourse, word for word, that had passed between them the even∣ing before. Paul, admiring greatly at it, asked the Residentiary at his next meeting, if he had broke the business to any, which the day before they had privately conferred on. He said No: whereupon Paul concluded the H. man had notice thereupon by some Revelation.

Mutius Achilleus, of S. Severines, returning from the City into his Countrey, enclined to the be∣lieving

Dreams, and Visions, and began too gree∣dily to affect spirituall Favours, and sensible de∣votions, so that, though he had neither writ of it at any time to the Father, nor acquainted any therewith, Philip notwithstanding, after a friend∣ly and Fatherly sort, counsels him by Letter, to cease his ambition unto that Spirituall Dotage, ra∣ther than Delight; it being possible, that the Devill might delude him, and likely, he thereby incurr some notable inconvenience to his health: advi∣sing him, by all means to forbear a certain usage he had lately taken up, not so much out of lewd∣ness, as indiscretion; adding, that such as aimed at perfection, must especially beware of those Rocks. All which, Achilleus alledges upon oath, could not be known to him but by some supernatu∣rall means.

John Baptist Lambert, understanding by letters from his Father, that his Ʋncle died at Messana, having an estate of some Forty thousand Crowns, which he had often promised to leave him, here∣upon repaires to Philip; and after his confession, tells him in short his business, desiring his leave, that he might go to Messana. At which, the Ser∣vant of God catching him by one ear, pulled his head into his bosome, where he held him awhile, then letting him go again, with a cheerfull aspect, fixing his eyes on him, said: Be not troubled, for you shall not need to go hence, your Uncle is well again; and will write to you by the first, and with his good wishes, send you a token of his love. All which came to pass accordingly.

Not unlike hereto was that which befell John A∣trina of Marsico, who receiving letters of his Mo∣thers death, whom he continually commended to

Philips prayers, for grief scarce able to speak; For shame away, saith Philip, your mother is well. And soon after he had news, she was in health.

Julius Savera one of the Bothers of the Congrega∣tion came one time to him to Confession, and as he was in the way, letters were brought him signify∣ing his Mother was dead, though he had not heard word of her being sick. Having read his letter he comes to Philip, who before ever he informed him of ought, taking his cap off, puts it on his head and hangs the Rosary of our Lady about his neck; wishing him not to mourn for his Mother; For she is gone to heaven before, saith he, and therefore you should rather rejoyce, then give way to a vain sorrow. Savera was amazed hereat, being confident, that he could not know this, but by Inspiration from heaven; which he the less questioned, in that he held him to be a Holy man: so that he not only refrained weeping, but exceedingly joyed, that his Mother was received into the number of the Saints.

And here it will not be impertinent, before the close of this chapter, to recite a pleasant passage, not unlike that related by the Great S. Gregory, in his Se∣cond Book of Dialogues. Marcellus Vitelleschius, heretofore mentioned, had sent Philip two Bottles of Orenge-flower water. But the servant that brought them, either by mischance or carelesness, broke one of them, and gives Philip the other, who smilingly said to him, Ho you have drunk up one of the two as you came, have you not? At which he blush∣ed, and having no other answer ready, confessed how it was. When he came home, he asked His Master, whether he had before hand acquainted Philip with the sending those Pots to him; Marcel∣lus

said, No: so telling him what had hapned, they both concluded, it must needs be made known to him from above.

CHAP. VIII. He understands mens Thoughts.

BUt he grew so famous for discerning the inner∣most Thoughts of the Heart, that he became a Wonder and a Prodigy to all. For he could so subtilly penetrate * 1.36 into the mind of his, that he exact∣ly knew not only whether, and how long, they had prayed, but e∣ven what sins, and how oft, they had committed in places most se∣cret and retired: which they were so well acquainted with, that as oft as their consciences accused them, they were not able to en∣dure his fight: on the contrary, the innocent thought themselves in Paradise. So that if at any time they talked misbeseemingly, they would straight say one to another; Away with this discourse; for the Father knows all. And himself, upon occasion, of times affirmed, that he could tell when his served God heartily or dissemblingly. For example.

Raphuel Lupus, a Roman youth, one very much estranged from the way of Vertue, was by his Friend once brought to S. Hieroms to the Sermons: which being ended, he at last hath him to Philip, that so

this Wolf might become a Lamb, telling him; This young man, Father, intends to frequent the Oratory more; but would first disburden his Conscience of his sins. At which Raphaell grew extreamly enraged at his companion, as being so far from any intention of confessing, that he was most averse from it. But that he might not displease his Friend, nor render himself suspected for his lewdness, he pretends a kind of Faigned Confession to the Father; who hold∣ing his head gently betwixt his hands, as his man∣ner was, told him, I understand by Revelation from the H. Ghost, that you have hitherto made a false Confession of all you have said. Whereat the young man, being cut to the heart, within a while after made an entire Confession of his whole life to him; and by his directions entring himself into a Reli∣gious house piously lived and died there.

Once there 〈◊〉〈◊〉 woman to him to Confession, He looking on 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••aid; Bethink your self seriously of your sins. She going aside a while, and making a strict scrutiny in her conscience, having called to mind divers sins, returns to, Philip, and confessed all, adding, For asmuch as you Father, know the most inward thoughts of the heart, I beseech you tell me, whether I have done any thing else, which I should con∣fess. He replyed, Be at rest, for there is nothing more. From that time she began to doubt, whether really or conjecturally only he discovered such things: so divers dayes after, coming again to him though she had mentioned nothing of her doubt to any, saith he, Hold thy peace, for I will recount thy faults my self: and named them all particularly to her, as she had intended to relate them. So being quit of that temptation, she ever after honoured him as a Prophet.

A Noble Roman, whose most intimate thoughts Philip had sundry times detected, asking him once to help him, if he omitted ought in his Confession, the H. man answered; Be of good cheer, for as oft as you leave out any weighty matter, either ••hrough defect of Memory, or ignorance, besure God will make it known to me.

Another Noble man of Rome likewise, made his Generall Confession to Philip, and returned, as the custome is, to be absolved after the usuall Form, He asked him, Have not you committed such an offence? Yes quoth he. Why then did you not reveall it? said he: I had thought I had confessed it before. Know for certain, replyed the H man, you never informed your Confessor of this fault. And searching more diligently, he remembred, he had never disclosed it to any.

Joseph Zerlius, a famous 〈◊〉〈◊〉, who entred the Congregation in his old age, an•• there died, af∣firmeth that the B. Father hath not only told him his thoughts already past, but told him likewise, what he should afterwards imagine; saying, that none knew the secrets of his heart, next God him∣self, more than Philip.

Theus Guerrius of Siena, a man of singular piety, coming to Rome about business was hospitably entertained by * 1.37 the Fathers of the Congregation, toward Evening he spied Philip playing somewhat merrily with certain Prelates and laughing, when thinking such behaviour to argue too childish levity, he was tempt∣ed to call in question, whether he were in reallity one of such sanctity, as the common people surmised. So coming next Morning to him to Confession, he

concealed his former conceit he had of him; to whom he, Take heed O Theus, that you dissemble not your Confession, or for secular ends conceal the very least offence: and why did you not confess, that Yester evening you entert ained ill thoughts of me? The∣us stranged at it, confest it, and reverencing his Ho∣liness, had a high esteem of him.

A poor Woman came to him once, as he was hearing Confessions in S. Hieroms, and kneeling down feigned a kind of Confession, that she might get one of the Alms-loaves. But Philip bid her, Away, for you shall have no bread given you: and would not take her Confession. For the Prudent man was ex∣ceeding Vigilant, lest any for temporall advanta∣ges and respects should abuse or profane the H. Sa∣caments. Thence was it, that he did not ordina∣rily give Alms to Penitents himself, especially when he sat in the Chair •••• Penance, but privately furnish∣ed some Religio•• Persons with moneys, who, as need required, supplied their wants, they not know∣ing whence.

Hector Modius was used to leave out of his Con∣fession unchast thoughts, in suppres∣sing whereof he was too neglective, * 1.38 whereat the H. man was much dis∣pleased. So coming one time to Con∣fession, and as he had formerly done, burying them in silence, saith Philip; Why do you not confess such and such impure cogitati∣ons? and which is worse to be endured, you have not hitherto so much as accused your self as guilty herein. He wondring and repenting of his fault, became more carefull for the future.

A certain Youth, being one night assailed with strong temptations which he resisted not as he ought

was in the Morning ashamed to go to the Father, so deferred his Confession to some other time: but coming to the O∣ratory * 1.39 after dinner, and skulk∣ing close in a corner, Philip see∣ing him called him, and asked Why he avoided him: then taking him aside, after he had mildly rebuked him, reckons up in order all his thoughts the night past, making him there∣by both sorry and ashamed.

Another confessing to Philip smother'd out of meer shame some notorious crimes, that none knew of; when he had done his Confession saith he to him, Wherefore hast thou lied to the H. Ghost? rehearsing particularly all his sins, which he craftily had hid from him. Whereupon he acknowledging his Sa∣crilegious offence, began bitterly to bewail, and in time made a Generall confession of the actions of his whole Life.

Once a Priest came to him to Confession, who be∣ing conscious of a very heynous crime, as he kneel∣ed down, intending to express his sin, was taken with such a trembling, that he could not speak a word: the Father asked why he was silent; I am ashamed, said he, to utter the Villany, I have commit∣ted. The H. man then taking him by the hand, bid him; Fear not, I will repeat your fact for you: and declared to him the whole passage, as it was, and he went on Cheerfully, the rest of his Con∣fession.

The same befell another, who, for very shame, betook him to another Confessor, but at length re∣turning to discover what remained, said Philip to him, Son you have committed a fault which you would not have me know, and have disclosed it to another

Confessor, but God hath manifested it all to me. At which the Penitent was strook with great remorse, acknowledging it was true and with the tears of unfeigned Repentance, washed off the stains of his polluted Conscience. But what needs any more? huge numbers might be produced, that out of bash∣fulness concealing their offences, and temptations, at times of Confession, were by him convicted there∣of. But we go on.

Vincentius Begerius went forth one day, not thinking at al of a Religious life, but as he was going, perceiving himself inwardly moved to enter into the Order of the Dominicans, he repairs to the Monastery of S. * 1.40 Mary's supra Minervam, and there conferred with the Master of the Novices about his Call. He bid him; Go to Father Philip Neri at S. Hierom's, and impart to him all you have told me: and if he say, you are called to this kind of life, come again to me and I will take all care, to make you master of your wishes. Vincentius presently makes such hast thi∣ther, that none could prevent him. Philip, who was then talking to another, as soon as he saw him; willed him to stay a while, for I know, said he, what your business is. When he had dispatched what he was a∣bout, coming up to him, he gently plucked him by the hair and by the ear, saying, I know well e∣nough, you were sent to me from the Master of the Novi∣ces, to have my opinion, whether 'twere best for you to enter into some Religious Order or no: therefore tell him from me, that your Call thereunto was from God, He in a great wonder returns to the Monastery, and relates the Story to the Master; adding, how he had found a man, that▪ as Christ to the Samaritan

woman, had discovered to him welnigh all the pri∣vacies of his heart. At which he smiling, and crossing him on the forehead, saith, I well understood the man I sent you to. And not long after, in the presence of Philip, he took the habit of a Regular, and was named Hierom: the Master of the Novices afterward assuring him, that he had never dealt with the B. man concerning him, but that he came to know it all from above.

Dominicus Scopa, going to Rome with a purpose to become a Clerke Regular, at the perswasion of Taurusius, consulted Philip; who plainly told him he should without delay put himself into that Order, and as he was speaking on, whispers in his car; As touching the obstacle you stick at, take no care, for when once you are admitted into their Religion, it shall trouble you no more. Dominicus stood amazed to see one discover to him the secrets of his own brests; and which was more, foretell, that what he thought an impediment, should prove none at all: which yet fell out punctually as the B. man had said.

Blasius B••ttus a Clarke Regular, being for above a year perplexed with certain scruples in mind, and having often prayed God to free him of them, cha∣stising his Body with scourgings by direction of his Conf••ssor, and yet finding no ease at all, at length determined to go to Philip, whom, b••ing then busy, he expected, walking in the Court. Blasius had not walked above three or four turns, but Philip, be∣fore ever he spoke word, told him, I understand what you come about, do as your Confessor bid you, and that is enough. He departed silent, and as he returned was discharged of all that perplexity of his mind, to the joy and wonder of his heart.

Lodovic Torres, Archbishop of Mount-Royal, and Cardinall of the H. Church of Rome, being then but young, yet very well acquainted with Philip, seeing his Cloak torn one time, meant to bestow a new one on him, so taking a sum of money with him, he goes to S. Hieroms, and it being Sermon-time in the Oratory, staid till the Sermons were ended; which done Philip knowing beforehand what Lewis had designed, brings him into his Chamber, and un∣locking a Press; Look, saith he, I want none of your cloths. Whereat he was surprized with wonder, as having made none privy to his purpose: and be∣ing afterward Cardinall, was wont to recite this passage in his discourse, as an argument, that Phi∣lip could dive into the most reserved thoughts.

Claudius Neri a Roman was so distracted with some anxious cares, that for the trouble thereof he was forced to omit many works of Piety, contrary to his own inclinations, & even to forbear the H. Eucharist; & intending divers times to acquaint Philip here∣with, yet he was fearful & durst not. But visiting him once, as he lay sick, after a great deal of discourse, Philip asked him; what was that you meant to tell me? nothing, saith Claudius; but the H. man still urging him to a Confession, and he still denying it, at last Philip taking * 1.41 upon him a third person, continu∣ed his speech thus; There was a man, whom I am well accquainted with, that was much infested with cares: and so began by a fiction of the Person to reckon up all the grievances which molested Claudius; upon which he not only perceived that Philip meant him, but for that he applyed a Remedy sutable to his Sore, he accord∣ingly

making use thereof, was ever after rid of the like vexation.

Another such purpose of his also Philip discover∣ed to him. He had a mind to place his Daughter with the Nuns of Turris Speculorum: but was loth to make his intentions known to the B. Father, for that the Maid seemed unwilling thereto. Philip understanding by Revelation his Penitents desire, without his knowledg procured his Daughters ad∣mission among the Nuns, and obtained likewise of Almighty God, that she changing her mind most contentedly put her self into that House.

Francis de Rusticis a Noble man rested not all night for musing how he might compound a cer∣tain difference with his Sisters Husband, and being minded to consult with Philip about it, the Good man said, as soon as ever he saw him; I know what you would, come again two dayes hence, He did so, and found the business transacted, and concluded of ac∣cording to his wish, having neither spoken of it to Philip, nor any else.

Joh. Andre. Pomius Lucatellus of Bononia, Priest, a Divine of much account, read oft in Philips hearing Books of School-questions, and as he read, the Fa∣ther would many times tell him; Lucatellus, thy mind is upon something else while thou art reading, and such and such things distract you; naming them to him; so that the man for very astonish∣ment had like severall times to have gone beside himself.

Constantia Draco, as the H. man. came to com∣fort her in her Widow-hood, thought with her self; This decrepit old man lives, when as my Husband died a young man. He smiling, as apprehending what she imagined, said; Indeed I am alive, who have

lived to old age, and your Husband is gone in the flow∣er of his youth. The woman wondring, that he should utter the same words, she had been think∣ing on.

The same person meant to attempt a matter, which she imparted to none, but afterward chang∣ed resolution: and coming to the Servant of God to Confession; Why, quoth he; are you so soon gone back from your purposes? The woman was amaz'd, which way he could enter into her secret imaginati∣ons, and reverenced him still more and more.

A Nun in the Monastery of S. Martha, named Scholastica Gazia, had an earnest desire to open her mind to Philip, being at the Grate, who before, e∣ver she spake word to him about it, said, How dost thou Scholastica? how dost thou? Paradise is undoubt∣edly thine, Nay ••eplied she, I fear the contrary, for in my own apprehension I am already consigned unto Damnation. Yea, said Philip, Paradise is sure thine own: which I thus prove. Pray tell me; for whom did Christ dy••? For sinners, said she; And what are you? A sinner, quoth she. Therefore, inferred he, repent∣ing of your sins, Paradise is yours, 'tis yours. Upon which argument of his she regained her former Peace, and was disturbed no more with the like fears. Nay she thought she always heard that ex∣pression of confidence sounding in her ears, Paradise is thine, 'tis thine.

Two other Nuns likewise in the same Monastery the Servant of God helped by this means. Disco∣vering to one a secret pertaining to the direction of her Soul, whom he with good words encouraged: to the other an impetuous temptation which hapned before her entring the House, whom he antidoted a∣gainst the fury of it, for the time to come.

Before the Constitutions of the Councill of Trent were in full force, a certain young man of some sixteen years of age, meets the Father, in the habit of a Laick, his name was Thomas a sancto Geminia∣no. Philip looking wistly on him said, Pray tell me are not you a Priest? At that he wondred, confes∣ing he was, and briefly told him on what occasion he was made Priest, his kinred compelling him thereto by force, that so they might get to them∣selves the inheritance, amounting to Six thousand Crowns. Philip commiserating his ill hap, took care both to have him well taught in point of learn∣ing, and made his friends allow him a constant an∣nuall Provision: and after a certain time sent him into his own Countrey abundantly well satisfyed. He afterwards told Taurusius that he knew, him to be a Priest, because he saw the Sacerdotall Character shining in his forehead.

Now that it may appear, what hath been hither∣to said, was rather sparingly mention'd, than with designe of amplifying ought; it will be worth the while to view the Testimonies avouched by sworn Witnesses before Judges. The first is of Cardinall Frideric Borromeo, in these words.

Philip was a man so famous for his discerning secrets, that at first sight he could tell, who had passed over from a state of sin to Grace; and again, who had fallen from Grace to sin: insomuch as he once said to one that came to him, Son you have not a good look. He straight withdrew himself, and exercising some Acts of Contrition, returned to Philip again, who eying him said; I since you went hence you have betterd your look.

Cardinall Taurusius saith: divers times Philip seeing me would nam•• me the sins that lay hid

in my heart, before ever I disclosed them to him, saying, Son, you have been in such a danger, or have fallen into such or such a sin.

Cardinall Octavius Paravicinus thus: I can witness upon my own frequent experience, how miraculously Philip would enter into the thoughts of standers by, having admired with my self, which way he should come to know the inward concep∣tions of my mind, which I remember I have heard, hath befallen divers others.

Cardinall Hieron. Pamphilio thus: Being on a time desirous to reveal to the B. Father a purpose which I had kept from the knowledge of any; he taking me by the hand in the Vestry before ever I spake of it, said, I am willing we dispatch that business. And repeats to me beforehand, what I came to inform him of, at which I stood amazed. Besides as oft as I came to the Servant of God to Confession, he understood at first glance, what I had to say and somtimes inverting the Order, changed parts with me, He being the speaker, I the hearer.

Cardinall Pet. Paul. Crescentius affirms: That Philip could penetrate into the very thought of the heart my own experience confirms to me, since he hath manifested things to me, which no man could possibly know besides my self, the same have many others asserted too.

Marcellus Vitelleschius hath left upon record thus: As I was once in Confession, it chanced, I felt some difficulty, I know not how, In the men∣tioning some sins; whereupon he, before I had expressed them, questions me particularly about them: as he did oft. And whensoever I was troubled with scruples in Conscience, if he but

looked pleasantly upon me, I was straight rid of them all. Nay if any thing, either through ignorance or inadvertency, much dis∣quieted my mind, I was sure to have all discover∣ed to me by him.

Paulus Magius saith the same: it fell out that as I went to the Good man to Confession, he would say Before hand to me sometimes, Son you have committed this or that offence. And I was many times possest with admiration, because none was able to acquaint him with it.

Marcellus Ferrius hath these words: As I was disburdening my Conscience in Confession to Phi∣lip, he fixed his eyes steadily upon me, and re∣lated to me in order, as though he had ••ayen in my bosom, all the sins I had done. And as oft as he layd his hand on my head, either giving me Ab∣solution, or dismissing me, I was abundantly replenished with pious affections.

Mutius Achilleus asserts this which follows: I found indeed upon triall, that the B. Father was wont to pry into the most se∣cret recesses and every corner * 1.42 of the Conscience, and one thing I well remember, which I noted down in my Book, as then it hapned. In the year One thousand five hun∣dred seventy three, living at Rome, I concealed some sins, which I was ashamed to confess to him. It chanced on time, that he sharply reprehended a certain old woman in my hearing, out of Con∣fession, and said, The pains of hell do even wait for thee, at which I out of a foolish lightness laughed to my self, but he turning to me said; And you likewise shall be damned in Hell. Which as I

suppose, the Wise man threatned me with, to bring me to repentance, but being young and foolish, I least minded what most concerned me. And afterwards when I came again to Confession, he o∣penly and distinctly rehearsed the faults I had purposely before kept close. So acknowledg∣ing my heinous crime there in, I resolved for time to come to lay open ingenuously and sin∣cerely my faults, without the least dissimula∣tion.

Mar. Anton. Vitelleschius testifyes the like in these words: I oft resorted to the H. man, who declared to me things, which none but God and my self could possibly know, except by miracle. And as oft as I had come to him with any guilt upon my Soul, I trembled every joint of me, for fear he should discover any thing openly, that I had done in secret. As on the other side, if no sin lay upon my Conscience, me thought his pre∣sence gladded me like the joys of Paradise.

Angelus Victorius the Physician added this: When I came to Philip upon occasion, to desire his prayers for me, he would pleasently forewarn me to beware of such and such a fault, or busi∣ness; and would orderly recite the very sins of my thoughts, which he could not come to know, being none of my Confessor.

Pet. Focilius affirms: many times hath Philip recounted to me all my hidden thoughts, and the devious inclinations of my heart, and that a•• soon as ever I came, before I had begun my Con∣fession to him: all which were so reserved and se∣cret as they were known to none but God and me.

A Woman named Cassandria, Sister to Antonia

Raida, whose Vertue is else where recited, saith,

I ever accounted Father Philip as a Saint, because coming to him to Confession, he would reckon up all my private thoughts to me, which it was im∣possible for him to know, had he not been a Saint. Yea he hath repeated my Prayers, and related the very drift and scope they tended to.

Antonia de Pecorillis thus: Two years before the B. man died, as he spake one time to me, he discovered some of my thoughts, which I had made known to none; at which I was strook with amazement: this certainly he could never have received but from heaven, for they were the very secrets of my heart.

Lastly, not to cloy the reader with a huge Mass of Allegations, the whole Book of the Acts contain∣ing the Canonigation of Philip, compiled by pub∣like Authority, is full fraught, with dispositions of witnesses to this purpose: from whence it may suf∣ficiently be evinced, what Grounds the H. Con∣gregation of Rites had, to restify of him, that in discerning the hidden thoughts of mens hearts, non sit inventus similis illi: his like was not found.

CHAP. IX. His Prudence and discerning of Spirits.

HOwever Philip always loved to be thought fool∣ish and ridiculous amongst others, yet was he always reputed one of the Sages of his Time, not only in things pertaining to the Soul, but in mat∣ters of Government, whether of Domestique or of State-affairs. Hence was it, that not only people

of inferiour rank, but even Persons of highest dig∣nity repaired to him as the Living Oracle of pro∣found Wisdome. Yea and divers Popes themselves have highly prized his counsell and advice. Grego∣ry the XIIII oft used his help in weighty and diffi∣cult cases, and in business of great trust; and Cle∣ment the VIII reposed in him so much, that upon his perswasions he reconciled Henry the IIII. King of France to the Church.

When Leo the XI was Cardinall, he would often in the week come to Philips Chamber, and spend four or five hours there with him; both to recreate and revive his spirits, and take counsell of him in matters of great concernment: who, being a man of singular prudence, and called to give in his Testi∣mony of Philip, among other Elogies wherewith he honoured the H. man, testified his eminence in this Vertue.

S. Carlo Borromeo, besides that he would tarry with him in his Chamber many hours together, to conferr of Spirituall matters, such especially as concerned the Pastorall Office, committed to his care his most Dear Sister, Anna Borromeo, willing her to observe his counsell and directions in every thing, being one whom he had on all assays found to be a most Prudent Person.

Claudius Aquavipa, the fifth Superior Generall of the Society of Jesus, a man of rare Prudence and sagacity, never came to the H. man, but he staid four or five hours, conferring both of publique and private matters.

Yea the Regulars, and chief of all Orders flock∣ed to him for his advice.

Insomuch that Theius, a Siennois forecited, used to say; I have indeed been acquainted with many, especially the Re∣gulars,

but never met with any, that gave so safe; so pious, and so prudent counsell as Philip. And which was most remarkable in him, his Answers seemed to be made casually as it were, and yet the event sufficiently demonstrated, that they proceded from the greatest depth of Reason, and maturity of Judgment.

Hence was it, that in his transactions he was searching, not precipitate; courteous yet not too flexible; and though by nature very respectfull, yet no way farther, then was fit, officious. So that being moved once by a Noble man to mediate with the Pope for him, in a certain business, he plainly answerd that he would not, both for that another might better effect it; as also, lest he might lose an apportunity of helping others that stood in grea∣ter need.

But to come to that branch of Prudence called by the H. Fathers the Discerning of Spirits; he was so divinely illuminated from above, that he could distinguish what best conduced to every ones con∣dition. Hereupon it came to pass, that as many, as by his means or directions turned Religious, for the most part persevered therein with great appro∣bation; when such as against his mind be took them to the Cloyster, soon returned again to the pompous vanities of the World. Which was constantly ob∣served by those of the Oratory: they who with his full consent were admitted into it, persisting glo∣riously; those few which were not, being either discarded by the Fathers, or voluntarily forsaking the Congregation. The like befell such, as he, herein questionless Propheticall, out of any speci∣all motives perswaded to a Secular life; and they proved eminent amongst others in the practise of Vertue.

Among whom, besides those already named, John Baptist de Fulginio became famous. Who being ve∣ry desirous to know, what course of life he should lead, repaired to Philip, whose piety was much fam'd throughout the City; so kneeling down, to make a Generall Confession, as they term it, of his sins unto him, Philip takes the paper wherein he had marked down his faults, and tears it, which he patiently endured: and much admiring the wis∣dome of the man, ever after was directed and led by his conduct in all the actions of his life, as if he had been, as himself said, a meer carkase: neither after made he any more words, concerning the Generall Confession. Meanwhile he put up his pray∣ers to God, that what he pleased to appoint for him, Philip▪ might discover to him: and lo! as he was in prayer at S. Bonaventures Church under Mount Quirinall, he heard a voice bidding him; John Baptist return to Fulginium, return to Fulgini∣um. At the hearing of which, although he were wont to communicate all things unto the H. man, yet would he not presently acquaint him with this, lest he should suspect him to long after his Countrey. But Philip, who knew all by Inspiration from God, said to him: I command you, that you return into your own Countrey, for thither Christ calls you, yet be in a readiness to come hither, whensoever I shall re∣mand you. Whereupon he travells to his Native soile, where he made such Progress in Holiness and Vertue, that while he lived he was commonly term∣ed a Saint.

With no less advantage, both to himself and o∣thers, did he detain Caesar Baronius among the Se∣culars, when having oft desired Philips leave, to en∣ter into the Order of Capuchins, he could never get

his consent; insomuch as some hearing how the Father opposed it, and diverted him from it, not duly weighing things were scandalized thereat, that he should discourage any from a Religious State. But the sequell evidenced how much they were deceived, and how judicious his caution was: seeing every one knows how renowned for his life and learning Baronius was in his Secular course; and what incomparable service he did the Church of God both by his Writings and Example.

He perswaded Franc. Puccius of Palestrina to live a Secular too. For he contemning the specious vanity and emptiness of the World, was most passionately desirous to become a Capuchin, so that he minded nothing else day nor night, and whenso∣ever he saw any of that Order, he thought him an Angel. So advising with Philip, he tells him what he had been designing; You, saith Philip, are not fit for a Religious life; therefore live at Palestrina, where you are like to be most beneficiall. Puccias was not satisfyed with this, but wearied the Good man with continuall requests, to procure an answer to his mind. At last he bad him; Go, but withall know you shall not stay long among them. The young man posts away to Viterbium, to accomplish his desires, but by the way fell so desperately ill, that after a tedious languishing sickness he was fain to return home again; where growing more resolved, and supposing it ill done of him to return into his Countrey, he vowed if he recovered, he would assay once more to put himself into the Capuchins Order. So when he was well again, he comes to Philip, tells him, he had lately made a Vow; the H. man cries; God forgive you, did I not foretell you, that a Religious life would not suit with you? Therefore

look you get a dispensation of your Vow, as soon as may be. He did so, but not resting there, the Fa∣ther repairing to the Generall of that Order, first instructs him what answer to give Puccius, then sends him to him. The Generall asks him; what I pray, Good friend, have you vowed our course of life? I have so, quoth he. But, replyed the other, though you have sworn our Rule, yet we have not sworn to re∣ceive you in, therefore go some whither else, for here is no room for you. At that Puccius was quiet, and returning to Palestrina, being first made Priest, then Archpriest of that City, performed such, and so many services tending to the good of Souls, both in his Country and at Latium, and the Frontiers of Campania: that he was generally stiled the A∣postle of those parts.

He prevailed likewise with a Noble young Roman, that came to ask his advice, about taking a Reli∣gious habit, to live quietly at home, saying, Some evill Spirit would amuse you with these kind of thoughts that he may ruine you and your whole Family. But I tell you further, you not only shall be none of the Reli∣gious, but in time shall marry. All which to a syl∣lable came to pass, though out of respect to the par∣ty, his name be concealed.

Yea the B. man was so Divinely illuminated in the discerning and determining each mans condi∣tion, that he many times would say to his Sons; Do this, or that, for this is the will of God: which when Cardinall Fred. Borromeo heard, he would say, Few or almost none can use this speech, and not be mistaken. Otherwhiles he was wont to say; you indeed shall persevere, but not he: and the success in tract of time shewed his predictions were true. Two of his, the one named Francis, the other Ioh. Baptista Sara∣cenus,

intended to betake them to S. Dominic's Or∣der; to whom Philip, Iohn Baptist indeed shall be ta∣ken into this Institution, and there continue: but Fran∣cis though be enter upon it, shall ere a year come about, return to a secular life. And so it hapned.

Some of the Fathers had a desire to have a cer∣tain Youth admitted into the Oratory, Philip was unwilling, yet, being desirous to gratifie the Socie∣ty, permitted him; but a while after, the young man, out of a kinde of Levity, left the House of his own accord.

There were two, whose Confessions the H. man used to hear, the one an Italian, the other a French man, but the Italian seemed the more devout. Of these Philip * 1.43 thus divined: The Italian, that appears so zealous, shall cool in his piety, but the Frenchman who is flower to spiritual things shall bold out to the last. And so it was.

Another young man also came sumptuously at∣tired to S. Hieroms to hear the Sermons, not to gain benefit by the Word of God but to jeer at the Preachers. Where one time he made such a noise, that he disturbed those that were neer him; who not enduring his sauciness and impudence, spake to Philip to reprove him. He smiling said to them; Let him alone, for he will prove a better and devouter man than any of you. So, when the young man came to understand himself, he entred into the strictest of the Religious Orders, where persisting in Holiness, and abounding in Vertues he ended his dayes.

He had a certain Penitent a Portugues, about 17. years of age, who was well known to the Cardinall a Monte Politiano, one that had attained to such a

measure of devotion, and that spake with such a Gust of heavenly matters, that he made even the most learned * 1.44 stand amazed at him. This man begun to be very zealously af∣fected unto a Regular life; and though Philip approved not thereof, yet tired with his uncessant importunity, he became unwillingly willing to his admission. But as he was putting on his Religious habit, the Servant of God being by went aside a little, and turning to the Wall wept exceedingly. Taurusins seeing it asked why he grieved; who answered, that he deplored the Ver∣tues of that young man. Taurusius then knew not the meaning of those words, but after some revolution of time plainly perceived it: for the Portuguese did not indeed quite throw of his Regular habit; but degenerating, and abandoning all piety, spent his dayes wandring, becoming the burden of the earth, and a Scandall to all.

Moreover it was so known abroad that Philip excelled in the Gift of Discerning, that Gregory the XIII desirous to prove a certain Virgin named Ʋr∣sula Benincasa, which came from Naples to Rome, and was in almost continuall Extasies (for she was Entranced thrice before the Pope, to whom she had address'd her self upon business) judged none fit∣ter than Philip for that purpose. Who at his Ho∣liness's command undertaking it, tried her by se∣vere injunctions and severall afflictions. First de∣barring her the B. Sacrament; seeming to slight all her trances and raptures, calling them illusions: then dealing more rigorously with her, till he had made divers experiments of her sincerity. After all which he gives the Pope a very good account of

her, commending to him her vertuous simplicity and innocent conversation. She afterward return∣ing to Naples, remembring how the B. man had treated her, both in word and deed was wont to say, that none knew her heart bet••er than Philip. She died the Sixteenth of January, in the year One thousand six hundred and sixteen, leaving fresh the memory of her exemplary piety behind her.

He used almost only the experiment of Mortifica∣tions, to try whether the Spirit were of God or no, supposing that where there was not the greatest de∣mission of mind, there could be no grounds of true religion laid. Alphonsus a Capuchin sirnamed Lupus, an excellent Preacher, and of known Vertue, was to go into the Pulpit, when on a sudden in comes Philip, who without any Apology or Preface, as one having Authority, asked; Are you Lupus, that famous Preacher, who by reason of the airy applause of men, conceit your self above all others? Are you he that Peacock-like displaying the bravery of your painted tail, vauntingly boast, you have preached in all the e∣minentest Assemblies of the City? and so went on up∣braiding him with such bitter language, that those who were by admired at it. Hereupon prostrating himself on the earth, he with many tears and great remorse cried; O Father, you worthily admonish, and reprove me justly. Whom Philip forewith lay∣ing away his severity, and clearing up his counte∣nance, with his wonted affection embraced and kis∣sed, biding him, Go on, Father, go on, as you have be∣gun, and publish the Gospell of Christ. And when he had done speaking went his way.

He went once to see a Good woman that had lost her sight, and lay Bed-rid, being highly honour'd at Rome for her piety. Her the B. man divers ways

makes triall of, by word and deed, who bore all cheerfully. He to shew those that came with him the rare Vertue of the woman, ere he departed, taking a Priest that was then present by the ear, bids him kneel down before her, and then saith he to her; This man is possest by the De vill, and therefore hath need be adjured by the H. Exorcismes: to that end let us pray, that the poor wretch may be freed. She having paused awhile, kissing the Priests hand that kneeled, said; This man is not possest, My Father, but a Priest that said Mass this Morning, to whose Pray∣ers I humbly betake me. At which Philip departed silent, not so much as bidding her Farewell.

One Philip of the Third Rule of S. Francis's Or∣der, for his many works of Charity and austerity of life reputed a man of great Holiness and integrity was sent to the B. Philip by Cardinall August. Cu∣sanus, at that time Protector of the Franciscans that he might throughly search and examine the Spirit of the man. When he was come, the H. Father knitting his brows and looking with a sowre aspect on him, as though he scorned him, asked what's he? and straight calling for his Box in which his small money was kept, bid him, Take as much as you please He, making as if he would have emptied the Box, took but a half penny: whereat Philip cried out; Ho sirs, this man hath more need of meat, than money, bring him a Loaf. When he saw the bread come, pre∣tending to have more mind to that, he bites it before Philip, as though he had been almost famish∣ed, and puts it up into his ••ouch. Then the Fa∣ther asked him what life he led, and what prayers he made to God. He chattering his teeth, and knocking his feet together, answered that he knew not how to make any other Prayers but such. Phi∣lip

seeming to take that answer ill, thrust him a∣way in displeasure; who said at his departure; This Old man hath much of the Spirit of Mortification. And Philip afterward told Cusanus, that he was no contemptible Person.

For his Scholars instruction and information, he was wont to give them many Precepts and Advices.

Fir••t he counselled such as were Confessors, not by violence to guide their Penitents the same course which themselves had taken; since some Holy ex∣ercises are beneficiall for one, which to another become pernicious: for said he, they must not be suffered to try at pleasure what ever comes into their heads, it being sometimes most advantageous to interdict them the practises of Devotion, both for relaxing the mind, and to enure them by the exercise of Mortification, to master their own desires by little and little, if they affected any thing overmuch. He would not have Penitents for every cause change their Confessors; as on the otherside, he was offended that Confessors admitted other Penitents besides their own.

For he would not entertain Nerus de Nigris, one whom he loved exceedingly, for his Penitent, but alwayes remit∣ted him to his own Confessor, while he was at Rome. He also made Peregrine Altobell return to his for∣mer Confessor again, in whose absence he for a year together had taken his Confession.

And for preserving peace and union between Man and Wife, and the better governing of Fa∣milies, he greatly commended the having but one and the same Confessor: so that it were done▪ vo∣luntarily, not out of any motives from fear or aw, as knowing full well, how free the use of Sacra∣mentall Penance ought to be. For the reclaiming

any one fallen, to his former state of piety, he af∣firmed no better remedy could be found, than to di∣scover his offence to some one of approved sanctity that was his confident, it being not impossible, by this one act of Humility, to repossess himself of his for∣merly lost Vertue. He likewise advised Confessors, not to permit such of their Penitents as were Novices to practise all kind of Penance they perhaps requested; that so they might proceed with more alacrity in the Service of God, neither overburdened with multiplicity of Penances to weary them, or make them grow desperate and careless, and so with∣draw their hand from the Plow. He wished Peni∣tents not too violently to urge their Confessor to yield to them, wherein he was unwilling: and said, it was very expedient, when they had not the benefit of a Confessor, to imagine him direct∣ing them, and to square their actions, as they con∣ceived he would enjoyn them.

He disliked, that any should whip themselves with Scourges or small Chains, or do any such thing without acquainting their Confessor: that who so did otherwise, would either suffer in their health, or likely were seduced with a spirit of Pride. He would not have Vows made without the advice of Persons discreet; for fear lest what is lightly promised God, be as lightly recalled. He could not give way that any of his should leave any Vertuous course of life they had once chosen; desiring much, that every one should abide in his own calling: adding that even Secular men might attain the state of Perfection, for that Trades and Arts did not hinder the acquisition of Vertue. Whereupon though he sent innumerable compa∣nies welnigh to severall Orders of the Religious,

and especially to S. Dominic's; insomuch as the Fathers thereof stiled him a Second Dominic: yet was he most pleased to see people Religious in their own houses. And for this reason, he would hardly consent that such as lived in the Courts of Nobles, with good example unto others, should depart thence; saying, that a man to alter from e∣vil to good needed no directions, but he that intend∣ed to ascend from good to better had need of Time, and Counsell, and Prayer.

For the conservation of quiet and concord betwixt Neighbours and Friends, he advised ne∣ver to speak of mens naturall defects: as also in admonishing Princes, or Great Personages, not to proceed directly; but in the third person still, so tempering the reprehension as, Nathan to David. He likewise counselled, that if any had received discourtesies or affronts by Persons of Quality, they should not bewray any signes of displeasure, but look affably as though there had passed no∣thing of discontent between them; that by this means all jealousies and surmisings of malice and revenge might be removed. He wished women to tarry at home, not to goe much abroad, nor gadde to other folks houses; but upon necessity, and urgent occasions. So that one time as he was highly extolling Martha Spoletana, a woman of that Age remarked for her holy conversation, some of his asked him, Why he so much commen∣ded that Woman? Because, said he, manum suam misitad fortia, & digiti ejus apprehenderunt fusum: She layeth her hauds to the Spindle, and her fingers take hold of the Distaff.

This woman was a great honourer of Philip, kneeling and prostrating her self at his feet, as often as she came to Rome; and

resorted to him: having that Priviledg granted her by God, to discern the Beauty of the Soul: and seeing the brightness of this B. mans Soul, she was ravished therewith into an Extaticall joy and delight. Much more to this effect was He wont to alleage, which to avoid prolixity, is here omitted.

CHAP. X. He freeth Persons Possest by the Devill.

THough Philip were not very forward to make use of Exorcisms, yet he obtained of Our Lord that singular Favour, as by his Prayers and com∣mands devils were cast out.

a 1.45 A Maid named Katherine was brought from Campania to Rome, that by His means she might be released from the Devill. For she spake both Greek and Latin, as though she had been brought up in an Aca∣demy, whereas she was ignorant and illiterate, without the least smattering of learn∣ing: besides she had such an incredible strength, that many stout men at once were scarce able to master her. By help also of the Devil she many times foresaw at what hour Philip would send to adjure her, say∣ing, That Priest hath now sent one to bring me by force to him: and presently ran away, and hid her self in the secretest by-places of the honse. Her did Phi∣lip free of those unclean Spirits, by only Praying to God for her, at S. Johns Church of the Floren∣tines, and returned her safe again to her Parents.

Lucretia Cotta, a Roman, being bewitched, was so tormented by the Devill for eight years, that the

Balls of her eyes were drawn down to her Nose and she almost wholly deprived of her sight; be∣sides that she had such a pain at her heart, that the Curate of the place, finding her sometimes half-dead, meant to anoint her with the Holy Oyle: other∣whiles she felt her Bowels so torne and wrung, at∣tended with such a trembling; that many women lying upon her brest could not stop the motion thereof. In these tortures of body and mind she could neither eat, nor sleep, nor stand, nor walk at all, but as she was held up betwixt two. At last, brought to this extremity of misery, she repairs to Philip, who pitying her condition bids her kneel down, and applies one hand to her heart, the other to her eyes, in this sort continuing his Prayer the space of half an hour. Which being ended, she was released of her pain at the heart. A while after com∣ing to Philip, much troubled still in her eyes, for that she could not use them about Womens works being her self poor, he said to her: Doubt not, for by the grace of God your eyes shall he well againe. And, laying his hands on her eyes, he prayed for a quar∣ter of an hour: then asked her, How she did? she cries out; Alas Father, you have made me quite blind. At that he laughed; saying, Be not affraid, for you shall not go away without your sight. About an hour after, the Woman perceived a kind of filme fall from her eyes, and straight regain'd her sight, ne∣ver afterwards being ill of her eyes; yea she could thred a Needle, and perform the finest Seamsters work.

In the Church of the H. Cross of Jerusalem, a Woman, descended of a Noble House in Germany, was to be adjured by the Exorcismes of the Church, Philip being present. And as the Wood of the H.

Cross with other Reliques were shewen the party pos∣sest, she began to be so troubled with Convulsions, that they said, now the Devill was gone; but saith Philip; Know ye, that the Woman is still possessed with the Devill, chiefly for that one of them, who are here, doth not believe. The H. man approaching nearer constrained the Fiend to certify him, what day he would be gone from that Body: which when he had set according to Philips, appointment, he the very day that was prescribed departed from the woman, at the command of the H. man, in the Church of S. Maria ad Martyres.

He went another time to S. John Lateran's, where, as the custome is, the Heads of the H. Apostles Peter, and Paul were shewen to the people: and the Body of the Church being filled with the confluence of such as flocked thither, on the sudden a Woman, whom those Sacred Reliques had provoked cries out aloud. Philip perceiving her moved by the Devill, catching her by the hair, in derision of Satan spit on her, saying; Ho, do you know me? Would I did not, replied she; immediately falling into a swoon, was perfectly quiet of all annoyance from the De∣vill. But Philip, seeing the people coming in apace to him, instantly skipped a way, thereby to decline all popular applause.

Moreover the Servant of God had such authori∣ty over the Devils, that if the possest were by them hindred from the Sacrament of Penance, or receive∣ing the Eucharist, he could so master them, that they should no further retard them from such holy Duties. Once a Women of the Capuchins Order came to the Church at Vallicella with some others, her Country-Woman; and as she approached to participate of the B. Sacrament, the Devill so di∣sturbed

her, that she was not able to receive it, when it was reached forth to her. At which the B. Father, who from the Seat of Confession had obser∣ved it, comming nigher layed his hand on her head, and she presently received it without any difficulty.

There hapned another like example. Two poor old Women came one day to the Oratory, one of them asking to speak with Philip. The Sacrist an∣swered, He was old and feeble, and could not come down so low; Pray, call Him; said she again; for this woman my Companion is troubled with an evill Spirit: and I would fain have her make her Confession to that Holy Priest. The Sacrist again refused, she redoubles her requests and reinforces her suit a∣gain, till at last she prevailed with him to go, who relating, what had passed, to Philip; he bid, Turn her out; for what have I to do with them that are Pos∣sest? Yet afterwards pitying her, went down into the Church to her; the Woman, as soon as ever she saw him, shook, and was unwilling to come nigh him, but as she was brought by force; to whom the Father only said in a still Voice; Woman kneel: she quietly kneeled down & confessed her sins. After that she received the H. Communion of him: and thence∣forward came often to him, and devoutly received the Sacraments of Penance, and the Eucharist, with∣out the least molestation from the Devill.

But the proud fiend, unable to bear this Vassa∣lage unto the H. man, bewrayed his rage and mad∣ness against him sundry ways, whensoever he was either commanded to come forth, or be silent. Joh. Anton. Luccius at Philips appointment had adjured one that was possest, and, in scorn to the foul spirit, scourged her sharpely; which mockery so offended him, that he appears to Philip that night in a black

and hideous shape, threatning to mischiefe him; but, when he could not hurt him, went away enraged, filling his Chamber with most a stinking Vapour.

Besides, the Wicked spirit could not abide, that, when Philip was sent for, he should depute another to the Exorcisme, counting himself much underva∣lued thereby. Thereupon the Servant of Christ sending a Priest one time to adjure a Maid that was possest, and he doing it accordingly; when the Priest came home, as he was knocking up a nail in the Wall, the Devill overturned the stool he stood upon with such a force, as had like to have cost him his life; and at the same instant spoke out of the mouth of the Maid, and said, I thought I had killed him.

But though God bestowed on him this prerogative of dispossessing Devills, yet he seldome, except upon necessity, would undertake that imployment, affirm∣ing that many times those who seemed possest by the Devill were not so indeed: adding, that these kind of fits proceeded oftimes from nature; as from the ex∣cess of Melancholy, or distemper of the Brain, or such like causes. And in Women frequently from infirmities peculiar to them, and sometimes coun∣terfeited, for certain reasons and ends they purpose to themselves.

For example, once he was sent for to a Maid, that was thought to be possest by them that lived with her; for she would run up and down a nights, and roar out, break the earthen Vessels, and throw the houshold-stuff about: He looking on her, and find∣ing her not possest; but transported with strong and corrupt affections, told her Brother: Would you have your Sister cured of this disease? whenever she is thus mad hereafter tame her with whipping. He

did so, and she soon left playing her pranks.

Another time a young Wench was in like man∣ner brought to him, who dissembled: as soon as Philip saw her, he told her Parents; This Maid is not possest, but fains her self so. And so it proved in the conclusion, for when she was married she left her counterfeiting.

It chanced much about the same time, that ano∣ther Woman named Sidera, whose friends thought her possest, was removed from Sabini to Rome, that by the visiting those Holy places, and by the Exorcismes of Holy men she might be regained from the Devils power. So her friends appointed to have her one day to S. Peters Church; that she might be present at the Solemn Benediction of the Pope; but she stealling away privately flung her self head-long into a Well, whence the people of the house took her out, without any harm, bring∣ing her safe to S. Peters, and back again. Many Priests had oft Exorciz'd, and torn her flesh with scourgings, almost suffocating her with continuall somentations and perfumes, but nothing succeed∣ing, she was at last had to Philip, who looking up∣on her, and praying to God, said; This woman is not possest, but Lunatique: therefore use her gently, and do not torture the poor wretch with Exorcismes. They followed his directions, and conveyed her home a∣gain: who continued a kind of Ideot ever after, as long as she lived, and though she did not rave so much afterward, yet she doted still at certain times. Hereupon the Father advised his Sons, not to believe too hastily that people were Possest, and that, except in extream necessity, they should forbear Exorcizing, for many and great inconveniences that usually ensue thereon.

CHAP. XI. He appears to Persons far remote from him.

THis favour also was by the Divine Donor con∣ferred on the H. man, that, whilst he lived hereupon Earth, he appeared in severall places to them that were absent, and remote.

A certain P••••est of the Congregation, that dwelt at Vallicella was affraid of incurring the hazard of a sin, in some kind of employment enjoyned him by Philip, then * 1.46 living at S▪ Hieroms. And being one night much troubled at it, on a sudden he heard his Cham∣ber-door open, which was bolted on the in-side, and presently beheld the B. Father, who asked him, How he did? not well, quoth he. Philip, laying his hand on his Brest and crossing him, said, as his manner was; Doubt not, and so departed. The Priest immediately took courage at it, and be∣came cheerfull, ever after unmolested in that mat∣ter; and in the Morning, when he rose found his Chamber-door fast shut, as if none at all had ever come in.

One of his Sons being in suspence, whether he had best pass over to Naples or no, consulted with the Father, who wishing him, by no means to go for he would be in danger either of being taken Prisoner by the Turks, or drowned. But the young man slighting the Old mans advice shipped himself: by and by the Turkes board the Vessell in which he was bound, and divers of the Passengers, for their own safety, threw themselves into the Sea; he fol∣lowing

their example did so too. When being not able to swim, and seeing himself in apparent danger of death, he remembred what Philip had for ewarn∣ed him of: and cries out, beseeching him to deli∣ver him from that so imminent perill, and anon the B. man appears to him on the waters, and cal∣ling him, bid him, Doubt not, so taking him by the hair of the head, brought him safe a shoare.

An old man, one of his Scholars, was coming out of Egypt into Italy, and as he crossed the Sea, two Tur∣kish Gallies surprized the ship he was in, and bound him in chains; who betaking him to his Prayers, with a holy affiance besought God, for the merits of his Confessor, Father Philip, that he would be pleas∣ed to deliver him from those Pirates. And the same instant he thought he saw the H. man say∣ing after his usuall manner; Doubt not, you shall cer∣tainly be loosed of your Bonds. He had no sooner done praying, but some of them told the Master of the Gally, they thought it better to release the old in∣firm man, than detain him almost dead already. The Master pitying the poor creature freed him straight: who coming to Rome was informed, that at the same time when he was taken Prisoner at Sea, and in Prayer, the H. man said; Let us pray for N. who is now in great perill of Slavery.

A Noble Roman Lady, being very angry with her Husband, in somuch as she would not speak to him, and for the same reason abstained from the Sacrament of Penance; * 1.47 about three days after toward Morning felt a blow given her, be∣tween sleeping and waking, at which starting she hears Philip saying to her; Ho you? how long shall anger possess you? Whereat she

trembled, and forthwith rising and acknowledging her fault, goes to S. Hieroms Church, where she re∣lates the whole proceeding to the B. man, who dis∣sembling the matter gave her never a word.

Once he enjoyned Lucretia, Wife of Joh. Ani∣muccius, a Woman of singular Piety, to rise at a certain hour of the night to Meditation, who ever and anon favouring her self slept out her Prayer∣time, hereupon he chid her, saying, Ʋnless you amend this fault, I will raise you a nights her after to your Prayers. And so it came to pass; for whenso∣ever she overslept her time, she heard the B. Father calling her; Lucretia rise. Yea many times when she came to Confession, he would ask her; Was not I fain to waken you to your prayers to night, as I pro∣mised you?

When Caesar Baronius lived at S. John's of the Florentines, he fell so desperately ill, that being void of sence, they procured him to be anointed with the H. Oile; when falling into a sweet sleep, he sees Philip standing by him, who then dwelt at S. Hieroms, and praying for his health to Jesus Christ, at whose right hand stood the Virgin of Virgins, shadowed with a pure white Veil, and saying; Save Caesar; give me Caesar; restore me Caesar; I must needs have him well again. When the Good man had prayed awhile in this manner, he perceived Our B. Lord to turn away his face from Philips prayers. Whereupon Philip addressing himself to the Virgin humbly requests her, that what of himself he could not procure from Our Lord, by Her intercession he might obtain; she piously enclining to his Petitions never left intreating her Son, till Philip having his wish granted him, left praying. Meanwhile Baronius waking found himself secure from all fear∣of

death, and in short time recovered; which being not unmindfull of, he gratefully acknowledgeth in many leaves of his Book, that both his life and learn∣ing were all owing to the Prayers of Philip.

Matthias Maffe••s Priest lay sick, and the Physicians being hopeless of him, Philip comes to see him, bringing along with him two little Boxes of Reliques, and, as his custom was, bad him; Doubt not, you shall recover: then laying his hand on his heart, pressed it hard, and giving him his Blessing went away. The Patient herewith greatly cheared falls asleep, and hears Philip in his sleep call him thrice; Mat∣thias rise. The Voice was so strong, that it some∣what affrighted him, and as soon as he was fully a∣wake he found his Fever quite gone, and two days after got up, and was very well.

Cardinall Frederic Borromeo relates how one had a Vision in this wise.

A great Mastive, or such like beast, seemed to ly about the Bed, at the sight whereof being greatly dismayed, as soon as he was awake, he felt himself bruised and sore all over as if he had bin cudgelled, in the Morning coming to Philip, he informs him of all that hapned the Night before. To whom the Father; know Son that I was with you last Night, and fought for you; and God for the good of your Soul sent you this pro∣digious sight; yea I desired you might meet with some such accident, and therfore think not scorn to benefit thereby.

A certain Abbot, whom Philip entirely loved, re∣tired from the City to a place belonging to his Ab∣by, where for two years together he was so troubled with a flegmatique humor, that his Limbs becom∣ing useless to him, he was fain to keep divers Ser∣vants to help him. His disease was by Physicians held

incurable, yet were there almost infinite applicati∣ons made to him by Physick, which proving ineffectu∣all, by direction of the same Physicians he was in a Litter carried to Rome, where he was so impaired by sickness, swooning, and fainting away oftimes, that he seemed to suffer many deaths in a day. In this plight he earnestly prayed to God, that, if he saw it good, he would now let his Servant depart in peace: mean while one of the Oratory comes to see him, tell∣ing him, Philip would visit him toward Evening, and afford him present ease and refreshment. After he had supped, his wonted pains coming upon him with extream violence, about Midnight falling into a quiet slumber, he sees Philip putting his hand on his face as he lay, standing by silent. At that the Abbot wakes; and struck with affrightment and ter∣rour, could not speak a word; but was the more affraid for that he observed, he came into his Cham∣ber, the door being shut. Philip asks him, How he did? the Abbot made him answer, taking notice of the H. man, withall desiring him, if it were expedient for him to live, he would pray for his restorement. Then Philip taking his hands in his own, placed them a∣cross: the Clinick, not knowing what it meant, a∣waited the success, when at last he heard the Ser∣vant of Christ cry out aloud; Rise. At which he, sitting up in his Bed, which for divers moneths be∣fore he could not do, presently thrusts his feet out of the Bed to rise? Philip asks him; Do not you see now that you are restored to health? look you revealy it to none and vanished away. Upon this apparition the Abbot grew so in health, as that Week he went abroad.

Joh. Animuccius. of whome before, travelling to Prato in Tuscany, visited Katherina Riccia a Floren∣tine,

one of the Nuns of S. Dominic's Order, com∣monly called S. Katherine de Prato, whose life is written by Seraphinus Razzius, one of the same Or∣der: and in discourse asked her, If ever she knew Philip Neri? She answered, by bearsay she had, but by face never; yet she desired both to see, and speak with him. The next year Animuccius came to Ka∣therine again, who confidently averr'd, she had both seen and spoken with him; though neither she had been from Prato; nor Philip from Rome in all that time. Which likewise Philip affirmed to be true, at A••imuccius comming back to Rome. yea and af∣ter her death, some talking of her Excellencies, and Vertues, in the Chamber of the B. Father, he exact∣ly described to them her Physiognomy and features: and yet, as was said, neither had he been at Prato, nor she at Rome.

CHAP. XII. He raiseth a dead Boy to life.

NOr was Philip only accomplished with all sorts of Vertues and dignified with sundry kinds of Gifts, but conspicuous likewise for the fame of his Miracles. Which, though by what hath been said, it be sufficiently manifest, will yet, by what is still behind, more evidently appear. Suffice it here, to instance how he raised the dead to life: re∣ferring his Miracles to be hereafter exemplified in two distinct Books by themselves.

Fabric••us de M••xi••••s, having already fi•••••• Daugh∣ters by L••v••nia••d Rusticis, who was again big, and in the pangs of Childbirth, went to the B. man▪ to

desire his Prayers to God for her safe Delivery; He musing a little to himself, tells him; Your wife shall be brought a * 1.48 bed of a Boy, whom I would have you name according to my mind: are you content? He assented; then replied the H. Man; You shall Name the Child Paul. When Fa∣hricius came home, they bring him news, that his Wife had bore him a son, whom as he had pro∣mised Philip, he Christened Paul. Lavinia dying, the youth, being some fourteen years old, was taken with a malignant Fever, of which he lay sick threescore and five dayes, till he was even at deaths door. Philip loved him exceedingly, both because he had taken his Confessi∣ons from his Infancy, and because his carriage a∣mongst his equals was so innocent and amiable, and his Patience extraordinary: for he endured his sick∣ness, with so rare moderation, that being asked, whether he desired to be restored to health he an∣swered, No. In this condition he continued so weak, that, being at the last gasp, his Father sent for Philip; who could not possibly come, being then at S. Hieroms saying Mass. Meanwhile Paul dies, his sad Parent clo∣sing his eyes; and the Priest, that applied the Extream Ʋnction to him, and commended his Soul to God, having performed his office, went away: then the Servants brought water to wash the Corps, as the wont is, and rayment to array it in. So Mass be∣ing ended, Philip comes, whom Fabricius meeting tells, Our Paul is dead. Philip goes directly to the place where he lay dead, and resting against the bed∣••ide, continues in Prayer about half a quarter of an

hour: then sprinkles the face of the deceased with Holy water, and taking a little into his lips breathed it into his mouth: which done, putting his right hand upon his forehead, he cried twice with a loud voice, Paul: who, as though he had been awaked from sleep, immediately opened his eyes, and an∣swered; What would you Father? adding soon after, I had forgot a sin, which I desire to confess. Philip bid the standers by with-draw a while: and hold∣ing forth a Crucifix to him received his Confession. When the people of the house came in again; the Father discoursed with him familiarly, and he in like manner answered him, as though he had been well, in a distinct and strong voice, yea his face and cheeks so ruddy, that those which saw him thought him not sick. They spake one while of his Mother, another, of his Sister who were dead. Having talked some half an hour, Philip asks him; whether he were willing to dy? very willing; replied he. He asks him a second time; are you willing indeed? Most willing; quoth he, the rather that I may see my Mother and Si∣ster. Whereupon Philip, giving him his Blessing, said, Go then, my Son, and pray to God for me. And as he spake it Paul expired in his armes.

But haply it may seem not less strange, for one by vertue of his command, to bereave a living man of life, than to restore one dead to life again: both which Philip did, even as in the Acts of the Apostles we read, the Prince of the Apostles did to Ananias and Sapphira. A Noble Roman Matron fell sick, and having continued so a moneth together and more, to the great perill of he•• life, Philip coming to see her, labours as well by his perswasions with her, as his prayers for her, to chear her up, being exceed∣ingly troubled both in Body and Mind. At length

He with his departed to return to Vallicella: he had gone but a little from the place, when stopping he bethinks himself, saying, I am forced to go back to the sick woman. So returning and coming to her Bed-side, he dismissed the Matrons that were about her. Anon some of his standing by he layd his hand on her head, saying, I command thee, O Soul, in the Name of God that thou presently leave this Body. He had scarce said it but straight the woman surrendred her Spirit. the Women being afterward called in, Philip told them; Ʋnless this Woman had died as she did, she would certainly have consented to the tempta∣tions of Satan; therefore it was but necessary to hasten her End.

CHAP. XIII. The opinion Men had of his sanctity.

PHilip thus enriched with these so many and sig∣nall Favours by Almighty God, procured him∣self such admiration and esteem amongst men, that almost all who knew him judged him a Saint: not only those of inferiour rank, but even Nobles, Prin∣ces, and Popes themselves.

For first: Paul the IV. made such account of him, that he not only commended himself frequently to his Prayers, but professed, that he was sorry his Pontificall dignity detained him from being present at the Exercises of the Oratory.

Pius IV. honoured him so, that in his last sickness, as he lay a dying, he would have him by him to com∣mend his soul to God, as one who knew his singular Merits: besides that he always testified very frankly

his respect to him in severall particulars.

Pius V. of B. and Glorious Memory, being well assu∣red of the benefit and advantage accruing to the Faithfull, from the Foundation of the Oratory, was, as he said, exceeding glad, that in his days there should be men in the City, that should appeare so forward to promote Religion and Holiness in De∣vout minds. As on the other side, Philip, to quit the Good Pope, had so firm and setled an opinion of his Sanctity, that he kept his Pontificall Slipper a∣mong other of his Saints Reliques: which the H. man applying once to a Sick Person, he began to mend, and perfectly recovered.

Gregory XIII. much used his advice in difficult matters, and for his Piety so esteemed him, that he would never suffer him to Stand in his presence, but made him both cover his head, and sit very familiar∣ly with him.

Sixtus V. highly prized him, as appeared by his constant liberality toward him. For he freely be∣stowed on him the Bodies of the H. Martyrs Papias and Maurus: annexed a Rich Benefice among the Samnites to the Congregation; granted them many Priviled Ses, and Immunities, with other Acts of Graces.

Gregory XIIII. not only advised with him in mat∣ters of importance, making him sit covered before him, but so respected him, that upon his Entrance to the Popedome, the H. man coming to kiss his feet, as the manner is, he by no means would suffer it: but meeting and very lovingly embracing him, burst forth into these expressions: Although, Father, I be greater in Dignity, yet in Sanctity you are far the more Eminent.

Clement VIII. in almost all his affairs of moment

recommended himself to his Prayers; and when he was pained with the Go••t in his hands, he used to say; Sure Father Philip doth not pray to God for us: intima••ing that if he did but pray for him, he should not suffer those tormenting pains. Besides, as oft as the Father vi••i••e•• h••m he, like his Name, in his affa∣ble and mi••d d••portment, courteously embraced him; and as his predecessors had done, made him sit covered in his Presence. To say nothing of his chu••ing him for his Confessor, and when he grew a∣ged, substituting Baronius in his Room. Again when he was Auditor of the Sacr••d Rota, he said by way of Prediction; Philip is questionless a Holy man, and in due time shall be inserted in the Catalogue of Saints.

And in how great Veneration he was among the Cardinals of the H. Church of Rome, is apparent both by what they have writen of him, and by their publike Testimonies. Aug. Valerius Cardinall of Ve∣rona, made a Book, and intituled it Philippus, sive de Laetitiâ Chritiana, Philip yet living.

Cardinall Gabriel Paleottus, the first Archbishop of Bononia, whose Confessor Philip was, proclaimed him, then al••ve, to the World as the Exemplar of a Vertuous and Pious Old man, in a Book which he writ De bono senectutis, to this effect.

And truely it were easy to produce, out of the Antient Records of Story, especially of Ecclesiasti∣call Antiquity, many old men renowned for Holi∣ness, and adorned with those Eminencies, which in their proper places are mentioned. Neverthe∣less, since those things make deeper impression on the mind, which occur to sight, and ••re much in our hands, the truth being hereby made more evi∣dent and invincible: I thought good to offer to your

View, as an express and lively Precedent of an ex∣cellent Old age, a Man yet living, and conversant in the eyes of all, who hath dwelt at Rome, the The∣atre of the Ʋniverse, above fifty years in much re∣putation, animating and promoting others strange∣ly to a good and vertuous life. I mean Father Phi∣lip Neri a Florentine, who now fourscore years old, like a tall and goodly Tree sheds the various fruits of his Vertues among the people. He was the First Founder of the numerous Congregation of the Oratory in the City; whence sundry others have very happily been propagated in severall places and religions unto this day. Whom heretofore many Popes particularly Gregory XIII. and XIIII. of B. Memory, and at this day Our H. Lord Clement the Eighth of times were wont to call to their assistance in matters of Religion and Spirituall conference. To whom the Most Illustrious Cardinalls, Bishops, and Prelates daily resorted, with others of all Ranks both for performance of Penances, & other weighty affairs, as for his pious discourses & communication with them. Who despising all terrene felicity, aspires after only celestiall honours and dignity: although he hath born a great sway with Popes, and the Prime Cardinalls, and been in esteem with them. Lastly, one in whom the Images of Prudence, Pie∣ty and Devotion, joyned with a rare mildness, Chearfullnes, and Christian simplicity, do so glo∣riously shine, that whoever hath once beheld this Venerable old man and observed his long con∣firm'd Discipline and Life can have no grounds left to doubt •••• question the Benefit of Old age.

Thus Paleottus.

Augustine Cardinal of Cusa was so devoted to him, that he loved to be continually in his Chamber. Who

speaking of his Holiness saith:

Indeed I never knew any, whether Regulars or Seculars, that were both by Plebeians and Nobles so highly reverenced as Philip; not only for a reall opinion they had of his piety, but for his huge success in reclaiming such as went astray to a holy life: and I ever won∣derfully prized his incomparable Vertues; which by so much were the more conspicuous in him, by how much the more concealed.

Cardinall Frederic Borromeo, who together with the forenamed Cardinal Cusanus were called Father Philips Soul, speaks of his extraordinary Sanctity in this wise.

All the time I conversed with the B. man me thoughts he was so divinely qualified, and en∣dowed with such admirable Gifts by God, as I doubt not, but he might be compared with most of those admired by the antient Writers. For he was so well experienced in the knowledg of Spirituall things, that he may truely be said to have perfected all, that either Cassian or Climacus, and Richardus de S. Victore have writ on this argument. Besides of all that ever I knew, there is none hath answer∣ed my expectations as he: yea he so satisfied me herein, that bethinking me sometimes, what I could wish more compleat in him, I could find no∣thing.

So far Borromeo.

Cardinall Octavius Paravicinus thus. By the Mercifull Providence of God, I have been acquaint∣ed with Philip from about six years old, till I was twenty eight when I went into Spain, being present at his usuall conferences, and one of his intimate familiars: in all which time, and after my return from Spain, as long as he lived, upon an exact Scrutiny of all his actions, expressions, & behaviour, I found him indeed flaming with an ardent love of

God. And a little after▪ I render Eternall thanks to God, that I had a Master, whose Vertues are dif∣fused and famed all the World over, and whose Glory no age shall ever impair.

Hitherto Paravici∣nus, one who was so passionate a Lover of Philip, that he could scarce live without him, spending frequent∣ly whole dayes and nights with him; and whenso∣ever he lay sick, attending him, as if he had been his Servant, though he were a Cardinall.

Once when he was ill, being one of his last sick∣nesses, send••ng away them that were by, he called the Cardinall saying; Octavius, I desire much to talk with you, but when my Cough comes, that I must spit, I would have you put the Bason under me as you have used to do. Good Humble Soul he did not in this despise the Purple but satisfied the impatient longing of the man. Thereupon Octavius; be pleased to know, Father, that I account it a special honour and priviledg to do you service. Again,

I so willingly did attend on Philip, that though sometimes I suffered great inconveniences thereby, yet I was alwayes requit∣ed with far greater content. Yea whilst I recount them, I am so del••ghted with the offices I hereto∣fore did him, that nothing troubles me, but that I could not further serve him.

Cardinall Octavius Bandinus esteemed it a high honour, that, while he was yet a Boy, he waited on him, as he said Mass: and, speaking of his estima∣tion for Holiness, hath these words: The opinion of Philips Vertue was such, as not only most ho∣noured him for it, but divers conceived it necessary, for their better progress in the Service of God, to use his conduct. Therefore to him, as to an Oracle, resorted men of all degrees, for direction in a Spi∣rituall course. &c. And after: He that hath bin

acquainted with the B, Philip, and accurately ob∣served his procedure in the way of God, and what a life he led for so many years in eminent Holiness and Religion, shall not need to doubt, but that those mervailous Benefits, which so many obtained by his Prayers, were indeed so many visible and reall Miracles. And for that they were both so numerous and notorious, I always reverenced him as a true Servant of God, and do at present repute him as a Saint worthy of all honour.

Cardinall Franc. Maria Taurusius, then Archbishop of Avignon writes thus in a Letter:

I should be glad to be one of them that have the first place in the Chappell, where the H. Father saith Mass, although it be so small (it is the same that is at this day re∣moved to the other side of the Church, as was for∣merly said) for how ever I seem so far distant, yet, by the Blessing of God, I am always there, both by Faith and the Love I bear to my Most dear Father, and by the peculiar Seat I reckon my self to have in his Soul. For whilst He there displays his Mind in the Contemplation of things Divine, I deem my self ranked in not the lowest place within it. Ka∣therine of Siena built her self a Cell in her heart, where she would sit alone with Jesus amidst the concourse of a Multitude: so would I erect me a Lodging in the midle of Philips heart; not fearing but I should find Jesus there, and behold at once all the Progress of that his stupendious Life, which he hath led here on Earth with us now this thirty three, years: and so as often as the Father exults, and his swolne heart danceth, out of the plenitude of his Love of Christ, I also there should dance and exult together. Afterwards again: Enjoy ye therfore, while ye may, that Bliss, which I long

since enjoyed and long together; but, unworthi∣ly neglecting my best use of so happy a time, am now by the just judgement of God unwillingly de∣prived thereof.

Cardinall Hierom Phamphilio, one most intimate with the B. man, thus reports of him:

Philip out of his exuberant Charity, would so endear, solace, and assist every one, that none ever went from him but he was cheared, and confirmed in the opinion of his sanctity: My self especially have accounted him alwayes, and confidently held him for a Saint, and adjudged him absolutely furnished with all the Vertues, that can be desired in a true Servant of God: yea I have found by experience in all his acti∣ons that he was every day better than other, to his very death.

Cardinall Lud. Madruccius was so addicted to him, that he not only frequented his Chamber, there conferring with him a good while together, but was so much taken with their Method of Preaching, that he often came to the Oratory at S. Hieroms to Ser∣mon. Michael Bonellus Cardinall of Alexandria, Ne∣phew to Pius V. knowing how much his Ʋncle ten∣dred Philip, loved him entirely; whom for his sin∣gular piety he revered, often going, or sending to him for his Company. Alexander Medices, Cardi∣nall and Archbishop of Florence, afterwards Pope, un∣der the Title of Leo XI. visited Philip at least once a week, and spent the whole day in courtesy and friendly familiarity with him. Cardinall Pet. Do∣natus Caesius was also a great observer of Philip, and conferred many Favours upon the Congregation. Cardinall Guil. Sirletus so much both loved and ho∣noured him, that he seemed wholly taken up in his commendations. As also Cardinall Antonio Caraf∣fa,

and Julio Antonio Sanctorio, Cardinall of S. Se∣verines; and divers others for brevity omitted.

The Regulars likewise held him for a Saint, and especially the Fathers of S. Dominic's Order, inso∣much that, whensoever he went to any Monasteries, the Religious flocked to him by troops, kissing his hands, and humbly craving a Blessing on their knees, and entertaining him as an Angell of God. And not only the ordinary Friers, but the choicest among them, famous for learning and piety, and those the most Eminent Preachers too, did thus reverence him: among whom was Father Francischinus of the Order of the Conventuall Minors, a knowing and devout man. For he advised much with the H. Father con∣cerning his affairs, and came to the Sermons with great delight, many times preaching in the Oratory himself. Father Evangelista also sirnamed Marcellinus was an admirer of him, being a noted preacher, who died in the Monastery of S. Maria de Ara caeli, and lyes buried in the Church there, well esteemed of for his good Life. Franc. Panigorala, an excel∣lent Preacher of the same Order, and Bishop of Asta, had so high an opinion of the Servant of Goa that he called him a Living Relique. Alphonsus sirnamed Lupus a Capuchin, prized him so exceedingly, that he depended on his very looks, and as oft as Philip met him, would fall down at his feet. Magister Paulinus, a Dominican, one of extraordinary Ver∣tue and Parts, did so repose in him for his Counsell, whom he held divinely inspired with Truth, that on a time refusing to undertake a principall office in his Order, yet when Philip urged it, he immediately obeyed.

In fine, how great a value his own Sons, set on him, besides what hath b••n above related, may by

that which follows apparently be seen. For first; they honoured every thing that was his as Reliques; yea they secretly and Religiously pilfered a way the hair of his head and beard, when he was barbed, to keep for Reliques: which once the Good man spying he commanded them presently to be flung out of the Window, yet they, privily gathering them up, had them in great estimation. Some of them very care∣fully preserved in Glasses his Bloud, which, toward his latter End, issued forth at his mouth in abun∣dance: and some, herein perhaps too zealous, tied themselves to say privately every day threescore times, Sancte Philippe ora pro me; i. e. Holy Philip pray for me; whilst he was yet alive. Others had his Picture hanging in their Chambers, he yet living, which they daily bowed unto, before they went a∣broad: others appointed to go to him every day, either to ask his Blessing, or kiss his feet; or at least to tarry by him in his Chamber. Moreover they reposed in his Prayers so much, that they would sometimes say;

I hope undoubtedly to ob∣tain whatever I shall beg of God by Philips Inter∣cessions. Others; If I look on the guilt of my life past, I even despair; if to Philips Prayers, I am al∣ready in the Harbour of safety. Some again; Though I should hear, that he had raised the dead, or were my self present and beheld them raised, I could not have a higher esteem of his Sanctity. Yea I can witness, that I have heard many say, that the publication of his being Sainted, nor yet his Canonization, added nothing at all to their opini∣on of his Holiness: for they said; Whatever the Pope hath designed concerning Philip, our hands had handled long before.

But the Elogies afforded him, extolling him to

the heavens, may seem perhaps incredible to such as read them; styling him an Angel, Moses, a Prophet and Apostle. One friend was heard to say to ano∣ther, going to Rome to see Philip: You shall see the A∣postle, you shall see Peter, you shall see Paul. Who then thinking the expression too hyperbolicall, after once he grew acquainted with Philip in the City, said My friend did not speak a jot too lavishly.

Franc: Cardonius, a Dominican well known to Philip for some forty years, gave H••m this testimony; Philip was great in Humility, rich in Poverty, in Cha∣stity an Angel.

Further the fame of his Piety was such and so di∣vulged, that many did not stick to affirm, that he had arrived to the highest pitch of every Vertue; yea, and that he had the perfect command of the first motions of his Mind, as they call them. Inso∣much that the Chiefest of the Nobility thought it a dignity and priviledg to serve him, to make his Bed, to sweep his Chamber, to wipe his shoos, and per∣form such like offices for him. His sayings were re∣puted by most as Oracles. In the Publick Tables drawn up for his Canonization, there was not one Witness, but with most ready suffrages would write him Saint. They joyntly agreed in this, that in due time he would be Registred in the Calendar: and some of them affirmed that his very looks had a kind of Holiness with them.

Mark Antonio Maffa writes thus: I indeed, though the vilest of sinners, ever since I came acquainted with Philip have respected him as a Saint. And as oft as I went to him to the Sacrament of Penance, I perceived, as it were, a breath of Holiness come from him, especially as he gave me Absolution, which never hapned, when I confessed to others.

So Massa.

Lastly, even by Saints was Philip deemed a Saint. Carlo Borromeo when he came from Millain to Rome, used to visit the H. man first of all, and stay oftimes four or five hours with him: when he was away, to consult him by Letters: otherwhiles to kneel down at his feet, kiss his hands, and re∣peat the Canonicall hours with him. And that he proposed him as a Saint to all his, is most notorious; so that he sometime said, Philip is a man of admira∣ble sincerity, and rare Purity. And those which knew them both can testify, that he frequent∣ly recommended himself to his prayers. Withall he was extreamly pleased with his Rule; and once spent a whole day at Vallicella, one S. Francis Festi∣vall; where after Mass, he administred the H. Com∣munion from Morning till Noon, to almost infinite numbers of the Faithfull; among whom Martin Na∣varrus abstained from saying Mass, that together with the rest he might, after the manner of Laicks receive the Body of Christ from him. Besides he would needs view the new Fabrick of the Church, take notice of the Foundation and Rule, go to the publique Sermons after Dinner, come into the Orn∣tory toward Evening, sup with them, Lodg with them, and strictly observe every thing; and at his de∣parture in the Morning said; O happy you! that have light on a man, who hath fortified you with so Noble an Institution.

Felix a Cantalicio a Capuchin, whom Ʋrban the Eighth Canonized, besides that which is above said, was so extreamly devoted to the H. man that he would often come and ask his Blessing on his knees. Once spying Philip a far off walking on Mount Quiri∣nall, he ran & overtook him and kneeling down kis∣sed his hand, where mutually embracing each other

in most friendly sort, they stood mute there for a long space together; at last also parting each from the other silent, like S. Lewis the French King and S. Giles. A∣nother time Felix kneeling, as he was wont, Philip kneeled too and begged his Blessing: which contention lasting awhile they parted. Yea almost always both Felix and Ra••nerius his Companion, one of ap∣proved Integrity, when ever they met Philip fell on their knees.

The H. Woman Katherine Riccia de Prato, else∣where recited, sent simdry Letters to Philip as to a Saint, recommending her self to his Prayers.

Ʋrsula Benincas•• a Virgin of Naples well reputed, of whom before, so honoured him, as she uttered this Elogy of him: By command from Gregory XIII.

I was consigned to Philips Fuition, and though I was not much skilled in spirituall matters, yet I knew the Charity of this H. man, and that his heart was transfixed with Divine Love; for one might perceive, when he spake he did not only wish, but passionately long for the conversion of Souls. And he took no small pains to make triall of my Spirit: for first; after he had soundly rated me, he enjoined me at the same instant, as I kneeled, to retort those very expressions back upon himself: which he again and again requiring of me I clearly discerned his profound Humility. And being some∣times in Extasies before him, as I am wont, and profess it to be my Cross, although in such Tran∣ces I never could hear the Voice of any, albeit he cried to me, yet when first he called me by my Name, his Blessed Voice so pierced my brest, that I straight awaked from my Extasy; by all which I understood the Finger of God was with him.

Again once at S. Hieroms a Charitate, as I re∣ceived

the B. Body of Our Lord at his hands, and, after my wonted manner, fell into a Trance, when Mass was done, he commanded me to walk a long with him in the Church, and though I could very difficultly do it, being so weak and withall abstract∣ed from my Sences, yet at his command I walked to and fro with ease.

Thus far that Holy Virgin.

Francisca a Serrone, of S. Severine's in Marca de Ancona, whose Life one of the Oratory hath accurate∣ly writ, coming to Rome in the Jubilee under Gre∣gory XIII. and discoursing much with the H. man affirmed that

Jesus Christ resided in Philips Soul, and that he had drunk of the same Spirit with the B. Katherine of Siena.

She treasured up his say∣ings as the choicest Pearls: and out of reverence to him, would not weare but layed up the Ʋeil, which his hand had touched while he gave her absolution.

Lastly, the Sanctity of Philip was so blazed abroad every where, that People resorted to him, not from the City, nor out of Italy alone, but from all Quar∣ters of the World. And even Infidels, after once they had conversed with him, reverenced him with great Veneration.

THE FOURTH BOOK, of the LIFE of PHILIP NERIUS.

CHAP. I. Philips last Sickness, and the Apparition of the Virgin.

THe B. Father filled thus with years and merits, and drawing now to a Period of his Life, about a year before he died, in April fell into a Fever, of which he was scarce quit in May; but began to be troubled with such pains and torture in his reins, that his pulse left beating, yet he bore all with an in∣vincible Patience. No complaining, no stir, no groans were heard: only these words came softly from between his lips; Adauge dolorem, sed adauge patientiam: Increase my pains, but increase withall my patience. The Physicians coming and feeling his Pulse pronounce him a dead man. So they that stood about him drawing close the Curtains, sadly be∣wailed the approaching End of their most Dear Pa∣rent. Yet smothering it to them∣selves they held their peace, when * 1.49 on the sudden Philip cries; O Fai∣rest Mother, B. Mother, who am I, that thou shouldest honour me thy

most unworthy Servant with thy pre∣sence? which word he spake with such vehemency, that the very bed shook under him, whereupon they drew back the curtains & came about him, whom they saw lift up into he air above a Cubit high, with his hands, spread abroad, one while stretching out his armes, ano∣therwhile putting them together, as though he were embracing some body with great joy: repeating often over the same words; Ah Sweetest Mother, which way have I ever deserved, that thou shouldest con∣descend to visit and restore me? I am not worthy so high a Favour; Holy Mother I am no way worthy. Here∣at all wondring, some out of a pious affection wept, others more inwardly grieved, the rest expected the event of so strange an accident. Then the Physici∣ans coming nearer, enquire what news? He lying in his bed overjoyed asks them; Did ye not see the H. Virgin, who came down from heaven to mitigate my pains? But perceiving a great many about him, he covered himself in the Bed, and melting into tears continued a while so: the Physicians fearing lest by immoderate grieving he might heighten his disease told him. It is enough, Father it is enough. To whom he replies; You may go your way, for I have no need any more of your help: since the B. Virgin hath resto∣ed me to my former health. They presently feell his Pulse, and find him not only rid of his Fever, but perfectly well: and the next day he went about his ordinary employments, as if he had not been at all sick. And all that Evening the Religious Father ex∣horted his Sons to apply themselves in their devoti∣ons especially to the Virgin Mother, saying, Believe

it, there is nothing more effectuall for the procuring fa∣vours from God, than a Holy affection to the Mother of Our Lord. The Physicians, when they were gone noised abroad the strange Apparition of Our Lady, so that it came to the hearing of the Cardinalls, Cu∣sanus, and Borromeo, and at last to Clement the Eighth, And lest any part thereof should be forgot, Angelus Victorius carefully writ down the whole passage.

The next year, that is, in One thousand five hun∣dred ninety five, on the thirty one of March he fell sick again, in so dangerous a manner, that the Cardi∣nall of Verona coming to see him, he was not able to answer him a word: he lay ill of this sickness all Aprill, and on the first of May he earnestly besought God, that for the honour of the H. Apostles Philip and James, whom he had chosen for his Patrons, he might celebrate Mass, and God hearing his requests he immediately recovered, and not only said Mass, but communicated the B. Sacrament to some of his. Yet that he might not seem refractory to his Physici∣ans, he forbore Mass three days, & that time expired, on the twelfth of May he continued to say Mass daily.

Afterwards on the return of the Solemnity of the H. Martyrs, Nereus, Achilleus, and Flavia Domitil∣la, whom the Congregation honours with a more pe∣culiar Veneranion, He bled so extreamly at the mouth, that all gave him for dead. Whereupon Baronius then Superiour of the Congregation, upon a strong suspicion of his near approaching End, duly applies the Sacrament of Extream Ʋnction to him: by the administration of which Sacred Remedy he pre∣sently seemed to be somewhat better. Then C••rdi∣nall Frederic Borromeo, being there, purposed to give him the H. Communion: and as he was bringing the Celestiall Bread to his Chamber, the Good ol••

man, who a little before lay hopeless, forthwith o∣pening his eyes, and raising his voice, wept and said En amor meus, en utique omne bonum! Lo there my love? Lo all that good is! Whereat all that were by fell a weeping. Afterward when Borromeo came to those words Domine non sum dignus; i. e. Lord I am not worthy: Philip repeating them added; Nor e∣ver worthy was; nor hitherto have I done any good at all: but as the Cardinall put the B. Viands into his mouth he said; Come Lord come; and so with en∣flamed devotion received the H. Eucharist saying; Now indeed have I ententained the true Physician of the Soul: Vanitas vanitatum, & omnia vanitas: Va∣nity of vanities, and all is vanity; He that seeks any thing but Christ knows not what he seeks, and thus spent the rest of the day joyfully. About Evening he was taken again with his wonted bleeding, and through extremity of pain three or four times vomited blood in abundance, yet unappalled at it, looking up to heaven, Thanks be to thee O Christ, saith he, that at least this way I can repay bloud for blond. This loss of bloud was attended with such a Cough and Asth∣ma, that he could scarce breathe, but looking chear∣fully repeated oft, I dy, I faint; and though many remedies were tryed yet none availed. In the morning when the Physicians came to him, he told them; Now I need none of your help, for my medicines have proved better than yours; and since break of day, when I sent my offering to the Monasteries of the Reli∣gious, to say Mass for me, I have not bled at all; but find my self mended, I breathe freely, and am so well, that I seem fully restored to my former strength. The Do∣ctors by his Pulse finding him to be as well as he gave out, amazed thereat, affirmed it was done by Mi∣racle from Almighty God. And from this day to

the twenty sixth of May he continued in good health, repeated his office every day, said Mass, heard the Confessions of his own, gave them the H. Sacrament; and performed his duty in everything as he used to do: so that all imagined he might undoubtedly live yet some years.

CHAP. II. He foretells his own death.

PHilip had long before presaged not only the time and day, but even the hour, and kind of his death; and the place were his bo∣dy should be interred. There∣fore * 1.50 first was he in all his former sicknesses peremptory that he should not dye; as in the year One thousand five hundred sixty two, being suddenly taken with a violent pain and a Fever, insomuch as it was determined by his to prepare him for death, by the B. Sacrament and Extream Ʋnction, he cal∣ling Taurusius said, Know I am most willing and rea∣dy to participate of those Holy Mysteries, yet I shall not dy of this Sickness, for the Most Mercifull God, who hath bestowed on me already so many blessings, will net suffer me to depart out of this life thus devoid of the Gusts and Fervour of Devotion. So they confirming him with those Divine Remedies, straight his grief was asswaged, his Fever left him, and regaining his former strength, he followed his employments.

In the year One thousand five hundred ninety two on the twentieth day of November he again fell into a Fever that continued upon him, and so raging, as

Hierom. Cordelius, one of the principall Physicians, affirmed it would end him, but toward break of day coming again to see the B. man, he told him; I shall not dy, My ••ordelius, of this disease, as you i∣magine. And the next day he was seen going a∣bout his occasions sound and perfectly well. His Sons also, having desired his leave to confess themselves to other Con••essors, because of the Festivall of Our Lords Nativity approaching, he answered, I will take your Confessions my self: and being fully recove∣red, did so.

Three years after, on the thirty one of March, he caused Letters to be writ for re∣manding Flaminius Riccius of Fir∣mo, * 1.51 who was then at Naples, being desirous to see him ere he died. He was on whom Philip dearly loved, who was the Third Superiour of the Congregation next to him, a great despiser of himself, having refused a Bishoprick offered him. He writ back, that he was very willing to return, but, for certain reasons was forced to defer his journy till September following. Philip by Letters urges him to lay aside all business, and return speedily: he answers that some principall Persons of Note, and in speciall the Archbishop impe∣ded his coming. He commands him to be writ for the third time, but added, that he should come too late. And so it hapned, for when Flaminius was come to Rome, Philip was newly dead.

Twelve days before his death Nerus de Nigris com∣ing to congratulate his recovery; Indeed, saith he, I am now very * 1.52 well, and have no bodily pain upon me, yet know, that within these few days I shall dy. And for that he

was confident he must shortly dy, he would often say to his every day; Sons, I must dy, I must dy: which he frequently reiterating to them, they were troubled at it, and replied; We know, Father, you must dy, but what of that? he, as his manner was, an∣swered; It is enough, I say I must dy, and you do not be∣lieve me.

About the same time that he bled so much, above mentioned, Mark Antonio Maffa exhorted him to chear up, saying he should live many years yet, and save many Souls: he jeastingly answered; If thou canst but make me live out this year, I promise thee I will give the something.

He had engaged himself to Francis Zazzara, then a youth, to tell him before he died, what he would have him do after his death: and he had oft importuned the R. Father to perform his pro∣mise; who bid him; Be not disquieted, for I pray to God for you every day I say Mass, and will reveall to you ere I dy, what I shall receive from above. Mean∣while, though Philip had bin often sick, yet he ne∣ver declared, what it was he would request of Fran∣cis: but the nineth day before his death, calling him unexpectedly, told him what he had promised; whereupon he burst out into tears, as conceiving the B. man would shortly dy.

In like manner, Ten days before he deceased he called Joh. Baptista Guerrius one. of the Oratory, and asked him, * 1.53 what day of the moneth it was? he answered the Fifteenth. Ten and fifteen, saith Philip, make Five and twenty, and then we pass hence. Nor did he speak amiss.

He had a little before told Germanicus; You have

taken a great deal of pains thus long for my sake, but hereafter you shall have no more toile and trouble about me. Then holding him fast by his right hand, as lov∣ing him most affectionately asked; What O Germani∣cus, what wilt thou see a few dayes hence? at which he began to fear some Calamity might befall Chri∣stendome; but the B. man dying soon after, he un∣derstood the meaning of those words.

The same Germanicus being to go to Carbonianum a Town near the City, on the ninetenth of May, a place where is * 1.54 a Manner belonging to the Orato∣ry said to Philip; I am unwilling to go, Father, except you can assure me, at my return, I shall find you a∣live. How long will you be away, saith Philip, But till Corpus Christi Eve, at furthest replyed he: at that the Father paused a while, and then bid him, Go. So Germanicus departed, and the night before that Vigill, he dreamt that he came to Rome, and sound the B. Father sick a bed, and that he said to him; Lo I dye. When he awaked, fearing the H. man was dead indeed, he postes to Rome, and finds Phi∣lip well, who told him; You did well indeed to re∣turn at the time appointed, for you had missed if you had tarried longer. And the night following he died.

The same day he sent to Pet. Consolinus, Priest of the Congregation, and bad him put his hand on his brest, and feell his Ribs sticking out, with all desi∣ring him to say a Mass for him. He told him he had just 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••aid Mass. But said Philip, the Mass I de∣sire of you is none of those you mean, but one for the Dead.

That very day a Woman, almost fourscore years of age, lay a dying, the Priest, that attended her in

her extreamity, besought Philip to pray for her. He answered; This dying woman shall recover, but I shall depart out of this life. And that instant she began to mend, and the night ensuing Philip deceased.

His place of buriall he thus foretold. He had said to Franc. Bozzius, that he would take up his Residence with him: who answered; Father my Chamber is not fit for such a Person as you. He replied, What needs there any more? I am resolved to dwell with you. After the H. mans death, it hapned that his Body was inter∣red in a place which lay next Francis's Chamber, of which hereafter. This was the last Priest that died, of Philips old acquaintance.

Joh. Baptista Guerrius forementioned, being Over∣seer for the building, came and told Philip, that the Burying-place both for Priests and the rest of the So∣ciety was finished; the Father asked, whether he had re∣served a place for him or no? he answered Yes. Saith Philip; you will not let me ly there. Yes there quoth he. Philip rejoyned; Indeed you shall lay me there, but believe it, yo shall soon remove me thence. Guerrius said little then; but the event shewed, whither those words tended; for when the B. man died, Guer∣riis interr'd the Corps in the foresaid place of buriall but the next day conveyed it thence, by appoint∣ment of the Cardinals, Alexander Medices, and Frederic Borromeo, into a Chappell which was nigh Francis Bozzius's lodging.

CHAP. III. His Death.

WHen the H. Festivall of Corpus Christi was come, which that year fell on the twenty fifth

of May. the B. man gave order betimes in the Morn∣ing, that as many of his Sons, as came should have admittance into his Chamber: whose Confessions he took, as one in perfect health; and desired divers of them to repeat the Rosary of the B. Virgin for him, after his death. Withall he exhorted them to fre∣quent the Sacraments, to be present at the Sermons, and to read oftner the Lives of Saints: then Cares∣sing them more than ever. When he had done hear∣ing Confessions, he attentively and devoutly rehear∣sed the Canonicall hours: after that he said Mass in the Chappell almost two hours before he used to do it. And as he began, he fixed his eyes, as though he had seen some strange sight, on that part of the Janiculum where was a Monastery erected to S. Onuphrio, which place is seated directly opposite thereunto, and when he came to the Hymn, Gloria in excelsis, he sang it out with a loud Voice to the end, which thing he never had done before. As soon as Mass was end∣ed, he administred the H. Eucharist to some: and hav∣ing given thanks; drank a litle of a Potion which they brought him, and said; These think me very well, but they are much mistaken. Then he again applies him∣self to the hearing Confessions. But upon the re∣turn of the Cardinals Cusanus and Borromeo from the Pontificiall solemn Procession and supplication of Christs Body, he passed the time till Dinner in pious discourses.

After he had broke his fast, he rested a little, as he used to do, and soon after with a more fervent devotion than ordinary, reciting the Vespers and Com∣pline, he divided the rest of the Day partly in re∣ceiving such as came to visit him, partly in hearing the Lives of Saints: above the rest he would needs have the Life of S. Bernardin of Siena read to him,

and made them repeat over and over his Passage hence. About two hours before Sun-set came Cusa∣nus, Hierom. Pamphilio, and some others; with whom he said the Mattens, ready now to compleat the rest of his Office in Heaven with the Holy Angels. Mean∣while comes the Physician, who feeling his Pulse said Really, Father, I have not found you better these ten years. So taking Cusanus's Confession at his going away he accompanied him, which he never used to do, as though he would give him his last Farewell, & gripe∣ing his right hand at his departure, dismissed him, The remainder of the time till Supper he employed in hearing Confessions.

Then as his custom was, he Supped alone; after Supper again he took the Confessions of those of his own House At the third hour of the Night he gave his Blessing, as he was wont, to those about him, and, having concluded his usuall Devotions, went to Bed very well, without the least sign of distemper, re∣peating still those words; I must suddenly dy. And knowing the last Act of his life was now at hand, he asked, What a clock it was? they that were by said, Three. So, counting the hours to himself, he inferrs Twice three makes six, and then we shall go hence. Then, turning to them that staid about him, he bid them; Go you to sleep: For the B. man was desirous to spend that little of his Life that was behind only with God, whom with all his Soul he longed for. A∣non at the fifth hour of the Night he rose out of his Bed, and walked about his Chamber; Gallonius, perceiving him to walk, straight gets up, and finds him laid in his Bed, and that some bloud and flegme together had fallen down into his mouth: he asks; What ailed him? I dy saith Philip. At that Gallo∣nius calling in some other of the Fathers to his aid,

sends straight for the Physicians. They thinking it to be his wonted flux of bloud, try their ordinary re∣medies; when the course of the bloud stopping for the space of a quarter of an hour, he spake freely, & seem∣ed to returne to his former strength and vivacity. But knowing himself now with in the borders of death, he desired them to forbear their medicines, as it were only staying his departure till they were all come: who when (every one kneeling downe,) they had made a circle round about his bed, fell a bewailing the loss of their Most Tender Fa∣ther with sad laments. Caesar Baronius Rector of the Congregation solemnly recommended his departing Soul to God: who seeing the B. man even ready to expire, exalting somewhat his Voice, Father saith he, do you leave your Sons thus, and not spend one word at least, in praying in some good thing for them. I beseech you bestow your last Benediction on your Sons in Christ. Then he lifttng up his hand a little, continued with his eyes fixed upward to heaven. And when he had remained so awhile, letting down his eyes, as though he had obtained of God the Blessing that he prayed for, without any other sign or ge∣sture, he quietly surrendred up his Spirit.

CHAP IV. He appears to divers after his Death.

NO sooner had He given up the Ghost, but he visibly appeared to divers of his Sons. At Siena in Tuscany Theius Guerrius thought he saw Philip between * 1.55 sleeping and waking, with rayes glittering about him, saying;

Peace be to thee Brother; for I am now wafting to those spacious and delightfull Mansions of Heaven. When he waked he heard the same words again; and straight the Vision ceased. A few dayes after he understood by Letters from his Friends, that about the same time Philip departed.

In the City at S. Cecilia's a certain Virgin in her sleep saw him clothed in white, and sitting in a bright Chair * 1.56 between two Angels born up to heaven; saying, I go directly to the joyes of the blessed but that you may come whether I am now hastning, see that you keep close to the Injunctions of our Rule: and doubt not but I will pray to Our Lord for you, much more than here∣tofore I have done. The Nun meanwhile awakes, glad and amazed, casting in her mind what this vision might betoken; at break of day comes a Messenger with news that Philip died that very night.

Much about the same time; onother of the Sisters of the Monastery dedicated to S. Mary Magdalen on Mount ••uirinall, saw him likewise in her sleep, and being very desirous to have his direction about some things, pray'd him to stay; who answered; Let me go, for I have been kept too long already by others: and so ascending up on high disappeared, In the morn∣ing she had word, that the B. man was dead.

In the Monastery of S. Martha in the City too, he appeared to an other Nun, and said, I am come to you, to give you my last Farewell. You ar hastning to Para∣dise; saith she. With that he shews her a field beset with thorns on every side; telling her; You must pass this way, if you intend to come whither I am going. She startling out of her sleep cried, O my Father, my Father whom I shall never see again. And so weep∣ing

sore recommended her self to his Prayers, believ∣ing confidently she should hear of his death by the Morrow; as it hapned.

In Morlupo, a Town that stands about a days journey from the City, a Religious Woman of the Third Rule of S. Dominic, receiving the H. Commu∣nion, before Philips Body was buryed, immagined that she saw an Old man in a Surplice sitting among the Saints, in a Chair curiously adorned, whereon his Vertues were displayed in Golden Characters: she saw besides a huge number of Souls, and heard a Voice saying to her; These are the Souls of them, that have attained Salvation by the Merits and means of this Blessed Man. And with these words the Sight vanished. The Nun relating this to her Confessor, he demanded of her; What age the Old man seemed to be of; or what a Phys••ognomy he had? she deli∣neates him forth exactly. Whereupon her Confessor shewing her Philips Picture; The Old man I saw, said she, was just of this favour. Soon after came letters, purporting that Philip died the very day before.

And here may not be forgot, what a little after the H. mans death was spoken by a Maid, hearing her mother commend Philip, to this purpose: Truely I esteem Philip a very worthy Servant of Gods, but if I should see him restore life to the dead, sight to the blind, limbs to the lame, I should then indeed with a loud voice proclame him a Saint; for there are many things reported of him, which I never beheld with my eyes. The night following betwixt sleeping and waking, she conceived she saw a high Scaffold in S. Peters Church, that reached up to the top of the Roof and Philip sitting upon it; and a little higher to∣ward the Roof she observed a most exquisite fine round Table, and hears him saying to her; Look

thou incredulous Woman, what I will do now: and straight raising himself from the Scaffold upon the Table went out of sight. The Maid when she rose, told her Mother what passed in her sleep; and in humble manner asked God forgiveness. The Vi∣sion haply imported, that the B. man should in time be Registred among the Saints at S. Peters as the se∣quel manifested.

CHAP. V. The confluence of People to see his Corps.

THe Body being according to the custome washed, and vested in a Priests habit, was at the seventh hour of the night brought to the Church, attended by the Priests and the rest of the Congregation. In the Morning, as soon as the Church-doors were o∣pened, and the rumour of his death spread, there resorted a vast multitude of People. The aspects of the sacred Corps carried with it a great deal of Majesty and devotion; drawing the eyes of all to the be∣holding of it; so that the Herse was not stuck with so many flowers, as the spectators, out of their zeal and affection to him, were ambitious to have carried away with them. At a convenient hour, having duly concluded the Office for the Dead, they sang Mass, many Prelates and Nobles being by.

While this was a doing, Antonio Carratio, com∣ing into the Q••ire among the rest in his Surplice, hav∣ing formerly been long troubled with Scruples of Conscience, was immediately released of them, upon his pious recommending himself to Philip.

Afterward came some of the Cardinalls, and a∣mong

them Aug. Cusanus, and Frederic Borromeo, with many tears kissing the hands and feet of the Servant of God. Gabriell Paleottus beholding him breathless, whom in his Book he had set forth as a Pattern of an excellent Old age, for Old men to i∣mitate, lamented him with great affection and vene∣ration. Octavius Parav••cinus seeing the H. Father dead, whom he so entirely loved, fell a weeping and bewailing his heavy loss. Besides Princes and Ladies flocked thither, kissing his hands and his ve∣ry clothes, and calling him Blessed. Yea the Spanish Embassadours Wife, coming to do her Reverence to his Body, publikely and often termed him Philip the Saint.

It is also worth the nothing, that Caesar Baronius, be∣thinking himself, what kind of Prayers she should say for Philip, whom he doubted not to be in Glory, lifting up his heart toward heaven, and opening his Brevi∣ary; pitched upon those words; Respice de Caelo, & vide, & visita vineam istam, quam plantavit dextera tua. Look downe from heaven, and behold, and vi∣sit this Vine, and the Vineyard which thy right hand hath planted. So taking that occasion, he wished the Fathers of the Congregation from thence forward to use this Antiphona unto h••m, as oft as they com∣mended to God the affairs of the Society: which they accordingly observed a long while after.

The like befell Marcellus Vitelleschius, who hear∣ing of Philips death, instead of the 129 Psalm, De profundis, sang the 116. Alleluia, Laudate Dominum omnes gentes, &c. used to be sung at the Funeralls of Children.

Hierom. Begerius, a Preacher of S. Domin••c's ••rder, bei••g in his Serm••n that very day the H. man dyed ope••ly proclaimed that he raigned among the Saints

in Bliss; affirming, That the Masses said for his soul, should not benefit him, but the Souls in Purgatory, many the meantime crying out, as he was speaking that Philip should be inserted in the Catalogue of Saints.

For two dayes together, while his Corps lay un∣interred in the Church, there resorted abundance of people, many touching it with their Rosaries; kissing his Hands and Feet; reverently handling the Herse, by stealth pulling of pieces of his gar∣ment, secretly clipping hairs from his Head and Beard; with sundry other like arguments of their Piety and Devotion to him. Yea some of the No∣bler Ladyes pulling of their Rings, and putting them on his finger, would devoutly kiss them, and put them on their own hands again.

You should here have heard some applaud and enumerate his rare and solid Vertues; some averre, that the Lively Example of true Sanctity was gone; others, observing the good he did both at Rome, and in other parts of the Christian World, complain that the Church of God was deprived of so stout a La∣bourer; some extolling him up to heaven, that living among so many Nobles at Court, and being familiar with so many Popes, he notwithstanding had not the least Ambition after honour or prefer∣ment; divers with admiration speaking of his pro∣found Humility, who with such Wisdome, and re∣servedness could conceal so Holy a course of life, and such numberless numbers of Miracles; as many more magnifying and commending him, for modelling so Noble and pious an Institution, as was that of the Congregation of the Oratory; lastly, here should you have seen the indigent and necessitous on all hands lame••ti••g, that the Father of the Poor was taken out

of the Land of the living; with divers more, who beholding the liveless Corps, and calling to mind how friendly, in his life time, they had been treat∣ed by him, wept, that the Teares ran down their Cheeks.

CHAP. VI. The strange Cures wrought before the interring his Corps.

FUrther the Celestiall Donor was pleased to honour his Servant with evident Miracles, even about the time of his death, while his Body was yet unbu∣ried. Aug. de Magistris, a youth of some twelve years of age, who, * 1.57 for seven years together, had been troubled with the Evill, and a dangerous Ʋlcer in his Mouth, hearing of his School-fe••••ows that a Holy Priest at Vallicella was dead, which had done many Miracles, presently repaired to the Sacred Corps, and praying a while before the Herse, put the B. mans hand to his throat, and straight was healed: for before he got out of the Church the Sear-cloth, that was laid to his throat, fell off of it self, the sore skinned, and there was not the least appearance of any swelling at all. So that Cardi∣nall Paleottus, having intelligence of it, both viewed the part affected with his own eyes, and felt it with his hands for his further satisfaction.

Upon this, the Boy going home tels his Mother what befell him; she straight brings her younger Daughter Margaret to Vall••cella, who had bin six years diseased with the Evill in her neck.

And for that the Maid could * 1.58 not come near the Corps, her Mother carried her, & stroke∣ing one side of her neck with the B. mans hand, she was well immediately; she had not time to do as much to the other side, in regard, the Spanish Em∣bassadours Wife with a great Train was approaching to the Herse. Besides, her Daughter being weak in her legs, the pious Mother, when she came home, boiling some of the Flowers she had taken from the Bier, washed her legs twice or thrice therewith, and the Child walked as readily after it, as if she had never had any such feebleness in her joynts.

Alexander, Father both to the Boy and Girle, a man of above seventy years old, seriously weighing what had thus * 1.59 miraculously hapned to his Chil∣dren; and having bin troubled with sore eyes▪ for about two moneths, so that they ran continu∣ally, and he feared exceedingly that he should lose his Sight, came at last to Philips Corps, and rub∣bing his eyes with his hand, presently found him∣self eased of his grievance, and in short time was thorowly cured of his distemper.

About the same time another Youth lay ill▪ of a Pleurisy, whom the Doctors all despaired of, his Bro∣ther taking some of the flowers from off the Herse, wherewith the H. Body was strewed, devoutly pla∣ced them under his head as he lay; meanwhile comes his Mother, who seing her Sons face look black, sup∣posing him to be dead, runs up and down crying. The Brother follows his Mother, and tells her of the flowers he had put under him; she forthwith return∣ing finds that dead colour all gone, and he who had

lost his Speech, and knew no body, on the sudden spake, laughed, leaped out of his bed, and played. Anon comes the Curate to anoint him with the H. Oile, who thinking him even at the point of death, finds him restored to his former health.

A Woman of Recinetum, that had bin seven moneths sick of an Asthma, so as she could hardly fetch her breath, by * 1.60 no means go up stairs, nor take any manner of rest; comes to Val∣licella, Philips Body lying yet a∣bove ground; where, being strongly perswaded of effect, she puts to her brest some of the Flowers that garnished the Coffin, and presently was freed of her difficulty of breathing. About the same time, the same Woman being tormented with an Itch, so grie∣vous and lothsome, that her flesh looked like Inke, as soon as she did but apply the same Flowers to her, on the sudden her whole body became as clear as ever.

Maria Justiniana had her head broke out into such foule blisters that no Medi∣cines could cure her. Her Mo∣ther, * 1.61 hearing of Philips death, hath her immediately to Vallicella with her; where, having done her Reverence to the Body, she with her Scissers clipped off some of his hair, and went home, not doubting but she had gotten a sufficient Remedy for her Daughter: so rubbing her head with his hair, she said; I beseech thee, Blessed Father, by those heavenly cogitations which lodged in thy Mind, whilst yet alive, heal my Daughter. She thereupon began to mend, and in a while after her head grew perfectly well.

Dorothea Brumana had a Son about three years

old, that had crooked legs, his knees bending so in∣ward, that he must sit or ly continually, or be car∣ried about in Armes. And though they tried all means to make him set but one step forward, yet they could not effect it. His Mother had a long time wished, that Philip, when he lived, would have laid his hand on him, but never obtained it but so soon as news of his death was brought her, she bid the Nurse carry the Child to Vallicella; whither she her self also went: and taking the Boy out of her armes, put his bare legs to the H. Corps, and then made the Nurse bring him home. So, having pray∣ed a while in the Church, she returns to her house, where the Nurse meeting her, shews her her Son walking, who from thence forward could use his legs, and go very well.

CHAP. VII. His Body is opened and Buried.

TOward Night the Physicians and Surgeons came to open him: many of the House being present. And as they were diffecting him, there fell out a strange Accident; for while they turned the Cor••s to and fro, He * 1.62 with his own hand covered his Secrets, a•• if he had been sensible and alive. Which Angelus Victo∣rius observing, cryed out; O Admirable Chastity of a man! Mark and consider, I beseech you, how much he prized and loved Purity in his life; who being dead still retains such Virgin Modesty! They of the Society had taken notice of the like passage, when the Body

was washed. When they had opened him, they discerned the Tumor, that rose from his left side, proceeded from the two Spurious Ribs, which were almost broken, and thrust forth about the bigness of ones fist. His Inwards and Bowels were all intire and sound; only the Vena arteriosa was twice as big in him, as natutally it uses to be: the Membrane about the heart was found without water. So his Bowels were put into an earthen Pot, and buried by themselves in the common place of Buriall.

But, before any thing be said concerning the In∣terring of this sacred Pledge, it may haply seem pertinent, to describe the Person and Favour of the B. Father. He was of a midle Stature of Body, his Complexion somewhat pale, a pleasant Aspect, his Fore∣head broad and high, yet not bald; of somewhat a hooked Nose, little eys and something sunk, but quick, and gray: his beard not very long, and black, yet in his latter years snow-white.

When they had embowelled his Body, it was laid again on the Bier, where it was exposed to be seen all the day following. Soon after on the twenty seventh of May by the unanimous consent of the whole Con∣gregation he was, toward the shutting in of the Even∣ing, buried in the usuall Burying-place of the Priests, Which coming to the knowledge of the Cardinals, Frederic-Borromeo, and Alexander Medices, they considering that a Common Grave suited not with the Eminence and Sanctity of so worthy a Person, ordered that He should be laid by himself, till it fur∣ther appeared, how God would dispose of him. Then they caused his Name, Age, and the mention of his Excellent Vertues to be engraved on a Tablet of Brass, enclosing his Body in a Chest, made of Nut-tree: which they decently placed in a little Chappel, that

looks full upon the Organ, on the left side of the Chancell. All the time he was taking up again, no pu∣trefaction, no corruption, no ill Scent breathed from him. His face kept its comeliness, his joints were pliant, and limber, his hands especially, so that you would rather have said he was asleep, than dead.

As soon as the Body was translated hither, instantly there gathered multitudes of people about it, Offerings were brought, Tables hung up, & a most fragrant sweet∣ness was by divers perceived to come forth of the Grave: which among others Julia Ʋrsina Rango∣nia testifies she smelt, as she was in Prayer, and that it was like the Scent of Flowers, and Roses, where∣with both she and others were exceedingly delight∣ed. This Noble Lady Gallonius termes a Second Paula, both for her charitable offices to the Poor, and for her extraordinary proficiency in the Wor∣ship and Service of God. Innumerable more besides there were, that only coming to the Sepulchre of the H. man felt their Spirits cheared, and enflamed unto the practices of Holiness

And it is not be buried in silence, how Augustine Cardinall of Cusa, desiring to have some small part of the Bowells, made them be taken up; which were found as fresh, and as white, as if they had been buried the same day. So after they were well washed and dried, he took what he thought good of them: and the Fathers likewise very honourably preserved a reasonable Quantity of them in a Silver Casket of a rich Value.

CHAP. VIII. His Body is Translated unto a Chappell built to his Honour Seven years after his Death.

IN the mean time Nerus de Nigris, one who always honoured and highly respected Philip, having a fair fortune, and no Issue Male, intended to have a Silver Coffin made to keep the Corps in. Acquaint∣ing therefore the Priests with his purpose, they judged it meet, to see first in what condition the Sacred Reliques of his Body were. So, on the seventh of March, four years after his death, breaking down the Wall, and opening his Tomb, they found the Corps covered all over with Rubbish, his clothes so mouldred and consumed, they looked more like a heap of dirt, then apparrell: yea the plate of brass, wherein was contained a Memoriall of the B. man, had taken rust: and every thing that was but touch∣ed fell in pieces straight. Insomuch as the Fathers thought all was vanished into Dust.

But when they had taken away all that was de∣cayed, they disovered the Body not only unconsu∣med, but the Brest especially so clear and whole, the skin so tender and soft, that they fell into extream admiration and joy together: the Physicians confi∣dently maintaining it to be done by Miracle.

After all this, Abbot Crescentius, oft heretofore mentioned, procures a Cipress Coffin to be made; into which, being decently provided, with a Pur∣ple Silk Counterpoint over it, taking the Body out of the old one, they laid it, about Evening on the thirteenth of March. All both Priests, and others of the Congregation came to do Reverence to the

Body of their deceased Parent. Thither repaired also Alexander Medices, and Frederic Borromeo to render all bounden thanks to God, that the Body of their Master was seen so fresh and lively. But on the thirteenth of May following Alexander command∣ed it should be attired in the habit of a Priest, and the same Cope put on him, wherein he said Mass, that day he dyed. Then the Cardinall put a Chap∣let on his head, made of Gum-Flowers, and pulling off his own hand a Ring that had a Saphire set in it, puts it on his, strewing the Body over with Silk-flowers. At his Brest they placed a Silver Crucifix: his Face which the Dampness of the Grave had a little touched, they covered over with Silver. And so it fell out, that what the B. Man in his life time said; in the end proved true: namely, That his Head should be covered with Silver, and Body be wor∣shipt with no less Veneration, than the other Reliques of Saints. The Coffin thus made was placed in the same Chappell with great state, being hard by the Organ on the left side of the Chancell: where it con∣tinued to the twenty fourth of May in the Year One thousand six hundred and two.

Meanwhile Nerus de Nigris, having chosen the Servant of Christ Patron to him and his Heirs, adopt∣ed himself and his into Philips Family by Legall Process: quartering his own Coat, whose Armes were a white Dog, with Philips in a Field Azure three Mullets Or. But as was said, Nerus having never a Son, betaking him to the Intercession of the H. man, soon obtained a Boy, whom in memory of the Blessing received, he named Philip. There∣upon altering his mind about making a Silver Coffin, he resolves to build a Chappell in honour of him, beautified with those Ornaments, and that Cost∣liness

in Jewells, as is at this day seen. The first stone of the Foundation was laid by Cardinall Fran∣cis Maria Taurusius together with XII. Brass Coines, and one Silver one; every one stamped with the I∣mage of the B. man, and this Inscription following. Beatus Philippus Nerius Florentinus, Congregationis Oratorii Fundator, obiit Romae Anno, 1595. Th•• B. Philip Nery a Florentine, Founder of the Congrega∣tion of the Oratory, died at Rome, in the Year 1595. And on a larger Medall of Lead were graven these words, Sacellum hoc in honorem Beati Philippi Nerii Florentini, Congregationis Oratorii Fundatoris, Ne∣rus de Nigris Nobilis Florentinus ob singularem in Bea∣tum Virum pietatem à fundamentis, suis sumptibus mag∣nificentissime extruendum curavit, anno Jubilei 1600. mense Julio, die octava, Festi Sanctorum Apostolorum Petri & Pauli, Clemente VIII. Pontifice, Pontificatus anno nono. This Chappell, in honour of the B. Phi∣lip Neri of Florence, Founder of the Congregation of the Oratory, Nerus de Nigris a Noble Florentine out of his singular affection unto that B. man, caused to be most magnificently raised from the ground, at his own charge, in the Year of Jubile 1600. in the month of July, the eighth day of the Feast of the H. Apostles Peter and Paul, in the nineth year of Clement the Eighth, then Pope.

As the Chappell was a building, Nerus's Son fell sick of a disease incident to Children, called by the Italians Variolae, or the Measils, which took a∣way both his speech and breath at once. The Father unable to endure the sight of his dying Son, went aside into a By-Room, and flinging himself on the bed expostulates with Philip in this manner, Is it possible, Blessed Father, that I should lay my Son my only Son in the Chappell, which I have but lately built to thy ho∣nour?

Scarce had he spoken these words, but the Child called his Father three or four times, as Chil∣dren use to do; at which, the Countess of Pitilian, the Childs Sister, comes and acquaints her Father, how her Brother called him. He running present∣ly to him, the Child cried Babba I am well, for my Grandfather hath made me well (so he used to term Philip, because the people of the house, shewing him Philips Picture, would say This is your Grand∣father.) They ask him, who, his Grandmother? the Child cryes out aloud; No, not my Grandmother, but my Grandfather. And shewing him his Picture, This said he, this man made me well. They asked him how? the Child putting his right hand on his head, sig∣nified that Philip cured him by the touch of his hand Afterward falling to suck, and so into a pleasant sleep, there came out of his ears such a deall of corrupt matter, that they perceived an impostume was broak in his head: and the purulency of the disease purging for divers dayes together, at last the Child recovered beyond all expectation.

Nerus, upon the receit of so eminent a mercy, fi∣nished his Chappell: into which, thus every way compleated the Venerable Corps was conveyed with great solemnity and devotion, out of the forenam∣ed Chappell, on the twenty fourth of May in the year One thousand six hundred▪ and two being full seven years after Philips death. There were present at this Holy Translation, though privately, some Car∣dinalls, divers Prelates, with all the Priests, & Bre∣thren of the Oratory. The next Morning Cardinall Taurusius said the first Mass there, and from thence forward was the daily Sacrifice offered here to God, with great resort of the Faithfull thereunto.

CAHP. IX. The Elogies and Titles of Honour given him after his Death.

THe fame of Philips Holiness, who while he lived was for his great Merits, and the Glory of his Miracles, the Wonder of his Time, became after his death so generall and confirmed; that immediately Votive Tables were brought unto his Sepulchre. The first whereof was hung up by Marc. Antonio Maffa the Abbot, and Apostolicall Visiter, being likewise Chief Overseer for the Examination of Bishops.

For a little after Philips death being taken with a Putrid Fever and growing every day worse than o∣ther, the Physicians affording him no relief, he dreamt, that he saw, as he lay, the House all on fire the Wals utterly demolished by Carpenters, and two men, that were with him, crushed by the fall of a Wall, lying for dead. The Abbot affrighted here∣at on the sudden hears Philips Voice, chiding those that destroyed the building, and Saying; Servate Abbatem: Save the Abbot, O Save the Abbot: and forthwith he found himself out of all fear of danger. Nor was it a fond imagination, as the sequele manifested; for when he awaked he was better, and, the day after, as well as if he had never bin ill at all. Whereupon, as a Testimony of his Gratitude to the Servant of God, he presently hung up the foresaid Table at his Monument.

The same Abbot also hung up the first Lamp before his Tombe: which when the Priests, to lesson the Pomp, caused to be removed, he, complaining to the Pope, had it placed there again; which a Nob••e Lady

hearing of, straight gave another Silver one of a great Value.

The same year by Permission from Authority was his Statue erected at Rome, with the Title of Blessed to it, and a Glory round about it, and speciously set out with figures of his Miracles on the Sides. Besides divers others of Plaister, which Noblemen and Ladies kept privately in their Chambers; of which Clement the Eighth had one upon his Desk, and another hanging on the Wall, among the Images of the Saints,

As soon as ever he was dead, his Chamber began to be in much honour among all; and to have the Veneration of a Consecrated place; being frequently resorted unto by Cardinals, Prelates, Nobles, Plebei∣ans, and men of all orders. But the Chappell where his Body was, had so great Reverence done it by such as came thither, they kissed the very Walls, and pluck∣ing pieces of stones out of them, carried them in de∣votion home with them, yea some gathered up the Dust off the Pavement to keep. There you might have seen some striving to get the Flowers that be∣decked his Grave; others daily visiting the Chappell, some bare-footed; all which affirmed, they had received many Divine Blessings through his means.

The Year ensuing on the return of his Anniversa∣ry, in the presence of many Bishops and Cardinalls the Mass for the day was in solemn manner, and with their costliest habits on, sung: and after they had done singing the Vespers, a Panegyrique was made in honour of him.

Many were the Elogies published in praise of Phi∣lip, by men remarked for both knowledge and Piety. First, Cardinall Gabriell Paleottus, in his Book, De ••ona Senec••ut••s, gives him these commendations:

These things, O Religious and well-affected Reader, were some while since not only written, and digest∣ed into this Method by us, but together with the whole work perfected, so that nothing else was want∣ing, but to Print them. But see the Eternall counsell of the Grand disposer of All! The B. Man, who a little before had bin somwhat distempered, yet not so, as to keep his bed, or intermit his ordinary employments was snatched from us in an instant, and on the twenty sixth of May fetched from this his Banishment here below to his Celestiall Countrey. Whose so sudden and unexpected End notwith∣standing, we have held our former purpose of pro∣posing this Excellent Old man, as the lively Mir∣rour wherein to behold the advantages of Age. Since although to our Eys he seemed to dye four moneths sithence, yet as by his Religious and re∣nowned actions we have cause to hope, in the re∣gion of the Living he still lives. He lives no less upon Earth in the Memory of Vertuous and Holy men. He lives especially in the City of Rome, where he left a numerous Issue of Spirituall Children of all degrees, whom he begot in Christ. He lives a∣mong the Sons of the Congregation severally dis∣persed abroad; of whom some are sent into remote Lands by Christs Vicar and Supream Pastor on Earth, to govern his Flock. And a little after: Which his so Noble Acts being to spread farther daily, and as is to be hoped, to come to the know∣ledge of all, we have here pourtrayed him to the Life, to revive such as loved him as their Father in Christ; and that others, stirred up by the Glory of his Name, might be awakened to the imitation of his Vertues: last of all that Posterity might have a perpetuall Monument in their view, whence they

may learn to know the happiness of Old age, and to reverence it also, as is due. For of his Death and departure to the Lord, the End of his Pilgrim∣age being agreeable to the whole course of his most holy Life foregoing, and he, as he had led, so concluding his life, not without undeniable ar∣guments of his Sanctity, let others, to whose care that is committed, make report.

Thus Paleottus.

Cardinall Frederic Borromeo in a Letter to Ant. Gallonius writes thus: 'You best know, how great respect I have always born to this Person, and I can∣not believe you ignorant of my love to him, which since his decease is so far from being lessened, that I would most willingly sacrifice my Bloud to his Memory, if need required.

Cardinall Aug. Cusanus thus: It hath pleased Al∣mighty God to take unto Glory that Blessed Soul, a∣dorned with so many Christian Vertues, after well∣nigh fourscore years spent in the service of Christ; concerning whom that saying of H. Scripture may be applied; Qui ad justitiam erudiunt multos, fulge∣bunt quasi stellae in perpetuas aeternitates. And they that turn many to righteousness, shall shine as the Stars for ever and ever. And that Longitudine dierum re∣plebo eum, & ostendam illi salutare meum: With length of days will I satisfy him, and shew him my Salvation?

So Cusanus, whose devotion to Philip was such, that not long after his death, being to make his Will, he next God himself, and the B. Virgin, the Princes of the Apostles, and S. Augustine, recommen∣ded his Soul to the B. Philip.

Cardinall Octavius Bandinus thus: In Philip a∣lone me thinks the Summary of all Vertues was com∣prized: and all those Excellencies met as concen∣tred in him, which we wonder at apart in other Saints.

Cardinall Caesar Baronius, in his Notes on the Ro∣man Martyrologe, the twenty one of August, speaking occasionally of the B. Philip, Benitius a Florentine, thus fals upon the praises of Philip Neri.

Nor is that Noble City of Florence famous only for one Saint Philip, there being another of that Name, the Foun∣der and Father of Our Congregation of the Oratory in the City: that B. Philip sirnamed Neri, renowned for his Purity of living, and incomparable Charity towards God and his Neighbour; whose frequent Miracles sufficiently testify, that he now enjoys the the Society of the Saints in heaven.

Cardinall Hierom Pamphilio: Far and wide doth the fame of this B. Father daily spread, by reason of the apparent Miracles which the Lord sheweth on such as fly for help to him. Indeed the conti∣nuall favours he hath done me, make me hope for his aid on all assayes: therefore I resigne up my self to him, to his Tuition I wholly commit my self, and beseech him daily, not to deny me at any time his Protection.

But of the Vertues and Accomplishments of Philip have divers written: the chief of which are, Ruti∣lius Benzonius Bishop of Loretto, in a Book which he put forth, Of the H. Year of Jubile: John Baptist Tuphus Bishop of Cerra, in his Annals of Clearks Regn∣lar, Silvanus Razzius in his Lives of the Saints in Tuscany: Alphonso Vilegas in his Flos Sanctorum: Archangelo Giano in his History of the aforesaid Phi∣lip Benitius of Florence: Thomas Bozzius in his Book, De signis Ecclesiae Dei & de Ruinis Gentium: and Francis Bocchius, in his Treatise Of the Praise of the Citizens of Florence: with sundry others here omited. Severall Monuments also were set up in Memory of him, here and there; but especially at Rome, Julius S••ncedonius, before he was Bishop of Grosseto, had

his Picture drawn, and set in the Gallery at S. Hie∣roms à Charitate, with his Sons in a Ring about him, and this inscription on it: B. Philippo Nerio Floren∣tino. Ʋt ubi triginta tres annos eximia Sanctitatis & miraculorum laude claruerat, innumerisque ad Christi obsequium traductis, prima Congregationis fun∣damenta jecerat; ibi aliquod ejus rei monumentum ex∣taret; Templi hujus domus, ac Sacerdotum Deputatus, annuente piissima Congregatione Charitatis, Parenti in Spiritu optimo bene merenti posuit. Kalend. Septembris. 1605. That is: To the B. Philip Nerius of Florence. That where for thirty three years he had flourished, in great reputation for Sanctity, and Miracles, convert∣ing vast numbers to the obedience of Christ, and laid the first Foundations of the Congregation, there might remain some Memoriall of the same, the Deputy of the Church, and Priests of this House, with the consent of the Religious Congregation of Charity, erected this for their Best, and Best deserving Spirituall Father. September 1. 1605. And it is memorable, that when, some years since, that House was fired the to ground, so that another was fain to be built, the Gallery, where that Picture was, had no hurt at all.

Besides, presently after the death of the B. Old Man, abundance of Offerings were brought to a∣dorne his Sepulchre. Cardinall Augustine Cusanus be∣stowed a Canopy curiously wrought in Needlework▪ Cardinall Alph. Vicecomes, one of the Congregation gave a Rich Silk furniture for the same purpose. Withall a decree was made by the People of Rome, whereby they were bound every year to bring a Silver Chalice and some Tapers on his Festival to him The Duke of Bavaria gave a Silver Lamp of a thou∣sand Crowns value, to burn continually at his Al∣tar. And Charles Cardinall of Lorreign hung up a∣nother

Lamp of Silver: yea & daily after that, divers rich Presents were brought thither by Persons of Quality, both men and women.

Five years after his death, Ant. Gallonius writ and published his Life, being one intimate with him; it came forth backed with the Popes Authority, and the Title of Saint: Clement the Eighth made it of∣ten be read to him. Besides that five Illustrious Car∣dinals approved it with their Suffrages subscribed thus: J. N. do avouch that whatsoever is here written of the B. Philip Neri, I have partly seen with my own eyes, partly have received from the sure Testimony of very Credible Persons. N. &c.

Clement the Eighth dying, his Successor Leo XI. was requested by some of the Nobility to Canonize Carlo Borromeo: to which he answerd; Indeed I am content to Register the B. Carlo among the Saints, but will at no hand omit Philip Neri: though, being pre∣vented by death, he did neither.

What esteem of the H. Man Pope Paul V. had, ap∣pears by this, that he Sainted him by his Bull: and gave leave for the Office to be said, and Mass to be celebrated in honour of him: yea and by sentence from his own Mouth proclaimed a Plenary Indulgence to such as on his Holy day devoutly visit the Church of Vallicella.

Gregory XV. likewise expressed his abundant love, respect, and esteem of Philip, in that being yet Car∣dinall, he gave out, not only in words, but by let∣ters, that if ever it pleased God to call him to S. Pe∣ters See, he would without delay enter him, among the Saints in the Calender. Which so falling out, he afterward performed; for in the Year 1622. on the Feast of S. Gregory the great, he with the liking and joy of all, Canonized Philip, together with

Isidore, Ignatius, Xaverius, and Teresa.

After his Canonization Peoples piety, and devo∣tion toward him began to grow, and diffuse it self farther daily; so that not only throughout Italy, but even in France, Spain and Germany, publike Pray∣ers and Orations were made in honour of him. Nor may it be concealed, that Elizabeth Queen of Spain caused Philips effigies, set forth with most costly Je∣wels, to be carried about with the rest in Procession, the same day the other four were Solemnized at Madrid.

Temples likewise were built, Altars erected, Ima∣ges set up, and Decrees passed by divers Towns and Pityes, which had made choice of Philip for their Pa∣tron, that his Festivall should be as regularly obser∣ved by the Inhabitants, as if enjoyned by publike Edict. And the Order of the Dominicans in a Gene∣rall Ponvocation decreed, that on his Anniversary they would say their Office for him every year.

Last of all, to what a reputation and fame for holiness, his Name is at this day arrived, the num∣berless Vows hung up at his Grave by Suppliants, and the frequent evidence of Miracles testified from all Parts do abundantly shew.

THE FIFTH BOOK, of the LIFE of PHILIP NERI. Of the Miracles which He did whilst he lived.

CHAP. I. Miracles done by him with the Sign of the Cross.

HAving in the preceding Books spoken of Philip from his Birth to his Death; and brought down the relation of his Vertues thus far, intermixed with many strange Occurrents; it now rests, that we particularize, which on purpose was before ommited, the rest of the Mi∣racles wrought by his means: not doubting, but they that read them, may again no less, than by perusall of his Life. That so those who read and see the Sanctity of the B. man confirmed by so many and so manifest signes and wonders, may be the more easily won to the imitation of his Vertues.

First then, to begin with our own, Prometheus Peregrinus a Priest of the Congregation was so misera∣bly wrung with the Cholick, as if his Bowels had been pulled asunder from him. His pains increa∣sing still, Philip comes to visit him, and lay∣ing

his hands on him, cros∣sed * 1.63 the part affected, saying in a jesting srot, it is nothng: easing him thereby of all his greife and torment.

Antonia Caraccia was desperately ill of a Putrid Fever, and a pain of her sides, whereof she lay sick fifteen dayes * 1.64 and was now not able to stir, her Husband, desirous of his Wifes health, acquaints Philip with it who bid him; Go we will pray for her. But, her dis∣sease still growing upon her, she could neither rest, nor eat: her Husband returns to Philip and tells him; Antonia is a dying, I bid you quoth he, not long since, doubt not, it will come to nothing, go, and I will follow: and straight way coming to her he asked, Where is your grief? she shewed him her right side. He laying his hand on it, and crossing it, told her, This is nothing, it is gone. Scarce had he turned his back but forthwith her disease left her. The people of the house would have noised the Miracle, but Antonia bid them; Hold your peace, lest the Father take it ill: for he charged me to keep my Bed two or three dayes, that I might not seem to recover so quickly.

Angela Lippea for divers years had been troubled with a pain in her Shoulders, so that she could scarce∣ly breathe, and was so disabled in her right arme, as she had no use of it. Her Daughter Julia told her, Mother, pray go to Philip, and intreat him, but to sayt he Lords Prayer once over you, or the Angeli∣call Salutation, and you will be well. She did as her Daughter counselled her. Philip asked her; Why doth not she that sent you do as you say? at which the Woman went away sad; but he pittying her said: Go to, let us pray together; and griping her hand

hard, where her gteatest pain lay, he made the sign of the Cross upon the place, and presently the Wo∣man was restored to her health.

Virginia Martellia had very sore eyes, and coming to Philip she desired him to procure her help from Almighty God. The Servant of Christ, dipping his fin∣ger in a Bason of water that was by, & stroking her eyes, made the sign of the Cross on them, and they were instantly cured.

Maria Paganella affirms, that she was many times cured of the Headach, with Philips crossing her fore∣head only with his finger: insomuch as passing tho∣row the Church, she would come to him, and desire to be marked with that sign, and saying nothing at all to him of her malady, was healed straight. The like she said befell her, as oft as she was ill at her Stomack.

In Turris Speculorum, Isabella Mareria had a Cham∣ber hard by a Lime-pit, which had been newly wa∣tered: and it chanced, about midnight the steam of the Lime evaporating filled her Room all over, so that rising to Mattens, as she used, a Dizziness in the head took her, that she fell backward, and trying twice or thirce to stand up, she failed still. So being had to bed, she lay there for a Moneth; and as oft as she ventured to rise that Giddiness seized her. Her Physician, fearing she might go away on the sudden, gave order, she should be watched: in the mean∣time the H. man comes thither on some other occa∣sions; which she hearing of, gat up, and went to him, acquaints him with her disease: saith Philip to her: Be of good chear, you will do well: and hold∣ing her head hard betwixt his handes made a many Crosses on it: whereupon a filthy matter issued out at her Nostrils, which afforded her present ease, and in short time she was perfectly well.

CHAP. II. Miracles wrought by the Touch of his hands.

A Noble Roman had an Ulcer broke out upon him, that put him to such anguish and torture, as he could not rest for it; and fearing it might prove the disease called S. Antony's fire he in a fright comes to Philip for direction, who looking at him, as he made toward him, before ever he had spoke a word to him, said: Shut the doors and shew me the part affected. he did so, and the H. man lifting up his eyes to heaven, and praying, fell a trembling, as he was wont, then stroking the Boil with his hand twice or thrice, healed him immediately of his pain. Where∣upon he cries out; Thou art a Saint indeed, Father, I will into in the City, and proclaim thee Holy in every Street. He clapping his hand upon his mouth enjoin∣ed him silence; and would not let him stir thence, before he promised him, that he would not speak of it. The Noble man engaged to him: but Philip dying, he declared the whole proceeding, and that upon Oath.

Peter Victricius of Parma, while he was Servant to Cardinall Boncompagno, who was afterward Gregory the Thirteenth, fell so dangerously ill that the Doctors left him, as despairing of his Life. To him comes Philip, and after he had done praying in his Chamber, he lays his hand upon the sick party; who strangely and suddenly recovers, publishing it to all, where ever he came, that at the Prayers of Philip he was made whole. Whereupon, he was so addicted to the B. man, that he chose him for his Confessor; using to disburden his Conscience to him

thrice aweek, and receive the B. Sacrament: he di∣ed rich in good works, in the ninety seventh year of his Age.

Mauricius Anerius also lay very desperately sick, being so grievously pained at his Stomack, that he was bereft of his speech, and his Pulse had left beat∣ing, the Physicians giving him over. To him re∣pairs Philip, who kneelling down at his bed side, and praying, as he used to do, said to them that were by, I pray repeat the Lords Prayer once, and the An∣gels Salutation, for I should be sorry he should dye of this disease. Having so said, laying his hand on the Patients head and stomack, he went away silent; scarce was he departed, when Mauricius felt him∣self quit of all pain, recovering his Pulse and his Speech, and the next day rose, and was perfectly well.

Before he was acquainted with Philip, he was much incumbred with Secular business; and seldome going to Confession himself, had interdicted his Wife the so often going to Confession; yea he forbid her particularly to repair to the H. man. She relates all to Philip, who wished her, not to give over her course begun; for her Husband should shortly become a most Religious and devout Person. And so it proved, for not long after Maurice chose Philip for his Confessor, and was most ready and forward to works of piety all his life after.

Maurice had a son, named John Francis about fourteen years old, who fell into so violent a * 1.65 pestilentiall Fever, that the Doctors would come no more to him. Lying thus for seventeen dayes

with-out either eating, or stirring, or any sign of Life, save that he was discerned to breathe somewhat softly, Julia Ʋrsina Rangonia, the Mar∣chioness, hearing of it comes to the dying Person, de∣sirous, as she said, to see this prodigious Mira∣cle. Philip foresaw all this, who anon coming in∣to the Room, and praying after his usuall manner, requested the standers by to say the Lords Prayer once, and the Salutation of the Angel. Then put∣ting his hand upon the Child, and squeezing his forehead hard, he calls his Mother, and after a jest∣ing way said to her; It is well done, to let your Son perish for want of Victuals, bring him some Wine. They did so he puts a little into the Boys mouth, which as soon as he had tasted, he drank up a whole cup full: and instantly came to his senses again, grew better, and some few dayes after got out of his bed, and was as well as ever.

Carlo Ʋrsino, of about thirteen years of age, was sick of a Pleurisie, whom the Phy∣sicians gave for lost; his Mother * 1.66 comes to Philip, desiring he would take his Confession, as he lay a dy∣ing. He went and approaching neer his Bed side, dismissed the Company, and asked the Youth, where his pain lay? he answered, on the left side of his stomack. The Ser∣vant of God kneeling down pressed the part with his hand, that it seemed to the patient to go to his ve∣ry Intrals. Then after his Confession taken, Philip perceiving his disease more violent, the Penance which he had enjoined the sick party he undertook to perform himself; and bid him; Doubt not, for you shall not dy of this sickness; so went his way. He was no sooner gone, but the youth, calling to his

Mother, said; O Mother I am well: she would not believe him: he tells her a second time; Indeed I am well they bring him meat, he eats, and slept soundly. And the Physician coming to him found him in per∣fect health.

Fabius Ʋrsinus likewise fell into a pestelentiall Fe∣ver, which brought him so low, that he was deprived of speech, and being anointed with the sacred Oyle lay drawing on, but having before hand told his Aunt, the Marchioness of Rangonia, that he reposed much in Philips prayers, she desirous to satisfy her Nephew, caused him to be sent for. He came, and taking the sick parties head in his hand, held his brest to his own, the patient asked who is it? Philip answered, it was he; asking, Where his pain was? At my heart; quoth he. The H. man laying his right hand upon the place, pressed it hard, which Fabius felt colder than Ice, and presently told his Aunt, He was well: so he rose from his bed quite cured, to the admiration both of the Physicians, and the Neighbours.

John Baptist Boniperto was extreamly tormented with the Headach; Philip coming to him laid his right hand upon his Head, and fetched a great groan from his Heart twice together, when immediately he was quit of his pain, without using any other Remedy.

In the year One thousand five hundred and ninety, Mark Antonio Maffa, oft heretofore recited, dis∣ceases being at that time rife, by reason of Tyber overflowing, was in great danger of death, from a malignant Fever, and a pain in his head together. The B. man, coming to visit him, and as he used joyning his brest to his own holds his head hard be∣tween both his hands, his heart leaped, and prayed

a while and went his way: at which the Abbot forth∣with was released from his grief.

John Baptista Crescius was in such a burning Fe∣ver, and violent pain of the head that he thought his Temples even * 1.67 beaten in pieces with hammers; insomuch that he was minded to throw himself out of his window into a well, The B. man being sent to, came, and as soon as the sick Person saw him, he earnestly besought him, since he was not able any longer to endure it, that he would obtain for him either a mitigation of his torment, or speedy death. With that, Philip laid his hand on his head, counselling him, to recom∣mend his condition in devout manner to the assist∣ance of the B. Virgin and forsake his sins; as soon as he had done speaking to him, his pain was gone, his Fever abated and he within few dayes restored to his former strength, him had Philip cured of sore eyes, when he was an Infant, by the mere touch of his hands in like manner.

Livia Vestria, Wife to Valerius Ʋrsinus, being ve∣ry subject to a dizziness in her head had lien above a Moneth in grie∣vous * 1.68 pains of her head, and being something eased one day, she for∣ced her self and went to Vallicella. Where as she was in Confession, she felt her head on a sudden run round, insomuch as He that Confessed Her sent for Philip. He coming, and laying his right hand on her Head, said, No harm; and instantly both her dizziness and her pain left her, and she was never after taken so any more.

Sigismunda de Rusticis, the Wife of Alexander Vitelleschius, was pained with a continuall headach;

the H. man at that time used, after the exercises of the Oratory were over, to resort, together with his Sons, to the Gardens belonging to this Family, there to recreate themselves: where it so fell out, that as he came, Sigismunda was in the place, and being more vehemently tortured then, than at other times, she ran toward Philip, and humbly craved help of him. He taking her head be∣twixt both his hand, and squeezing it, cured her, who never after complained of the Headach more.

Katherine the Daughter of Hieronymo Ruissio, some five years old, had certain Scabs grew about her Nose, and having tried severall Medicines, her malady, that * 1.69 seemed to be lessened at first, in a while returned worse than e∣ver. Her mother hereupon brings her to Philip to be healed, who seeing the Child in such a miserable case, strook with compassion, toucheth her infected Nostrills, say∣ing Doubt not, it will be nothing; and straight that Scurf began to fall off, and in short time she was re∣stored as whole as ever.

Peter Ruissius, Katherines own Brother, had a grie∣vous headach, his Father importunately requested Philip to cure him of it, he told him; It were bet-for your Son to dy; but because I pity you, I will do all I can that Almighty God may restore him his health; and immediately laying his hand on his head, he freed him of his pain. Hereupon Hieronymo began to attribute such honour to him, that he confident∣ly sent another of his Sons, who was exceedingly troubled with the same pain and other infirmityes, to be healed by him. And his hope was not fru∣strate; for as soon as Philip but touched the Child

with his hand, he became presently well.

Victoria Varesia was taken with a pain in her left shoulder, which so disquieted her, that she could neither sleep, nor * 1.70 ly in her Bed. And remembring how she had formerly been cured by the Holy man, she repairs to him, acquaints him, how afflicted she was. He pleasantly an∣swered; Away, you are always troubling me; and pre∣sently asked her; Where is your grief? she touching her Shoulder, shewed him there her disease lay. At that Philip thrusting out his Arme, strook the part affected with his Fist saying; Never doubt it you are well. And presently the Woman found ease, and before she got home, was wholly freed of her distem∣per.

Ersilia Bucca lay desperately sick, by her Physicians doomed to death, and by her family lamented as already dead. * 1.71 Her Husband requesting Philip, to vouchsafe to come and see his sick Wife, he consented, and when he was come said; Ersilia shall not dy of this disease; then ap∣proching to the Bed, laid his hand upon her head, saying; Put away your fear, you shall not dy. At which she was very joyfull, and her sickness abating presently, within three days she was quite well.

Lucretia Garzia had such a dreadfull Ulcer broke out upon one of her Brests, that the Physicians deter∣mined to sear it with a red hot iron. She dreading the torment of fire though she were enjoined to keep her Bed, goes to, Philip, and tels him the whole passage. He pitying her asked, Where was her sore: the Woman shews him; who touching the part with his hand, said, as his fashion was Doubt

not, for hereafter you will do very well, When she was come home, as she sate at table, on a sudden she cries out; What is this? my pain disturbs me no more, and, if I mistake not, me thinks I am perfectly recove∣red. She looks, and tries, finds her self compleat∣ly cured, and the Surgeons coming, to sear her, were amazed to see her well.

Laura Hier. Moronus's Daughter, about thirteen years of age, fell so dangerously ill, that her Parents bewailed her * 1.72 as dead. So, being prepared by H. Ʋnction, the Habit, and all things else provided for her Fune∣rall, it came in her Fathers mind to send for Philip, to assist her by his Prayers, as she lay adying. He comes, and she, having her eyes shut, was not able to speak a word, when the B. man exulting in the Spirit, and shaking with his wonted trembling, breathes in her face, and as it were sportingly hits her a Boxe on the ear and taking her by the hair of the head jogs her to and fro, bid∣ding her recite the Venerable Name of Jesus: at which she, that was ready to dy, opens her eyes, and pronouncing the Name of Jesus, begins to mend, and in short time regained her former health.

Julia Lippia for almost two years was wofully tormented with pains in her head; which, when they came, held her two or three days together. And going to Mass one to day to Vallicella, she was sud∣denly so surprized with them, that she could not stir from her place; therefore she sate; and when Phi∣lip went by, she said; Father, I am taken with such a huge pain in my head, that I am not able to returne home. Then he, holding her head betwixt his hands, being seized with his accustomed trembling, asked,

How she did. Better, replied she, but yet not quite well. Then the B. man held her harder, and asked her again, How she did. who answered, She was very well; and so returned to her house without any pain at all.

Katherine Corradiana lay sick of a most dangerous disease, and being already anointed with the H. Oile was now drawing on; Philip coming thither lays his hand on her, and made certain Singers which he brought with him, sing some pious Verses wherein the Name of Jesus was oft repeated. They did so, and upon their singing the Woman felt her self eased, and in a short time recovered. As she was be∣ginning to mend, the Devil annoyed her ever and anon, and appearing to her asked; Why doth this Paltry fellow Philip come to you? But she wisely an∣swered him never a word, and meerly by her Pray∣ers vanquished the wily Adversary.

The B. Father one time had heard, that Clement the Eighth then Pope kept his Bed sick of the Gout; so to him he * 1.73 went, whom as soon as the Pope saw entring his Chamber, he charged him not to come near him, as not enduring, that the ve∣ry sheets should be touched, by reason of the anguish of his dis∣ease. But he notwithstanding passing along the Room, the Pope cried out again, Touch me not. Philip replied, Doubt not Blessed Fa∣ther: and therewith taking him by the right hand, where lay his pain, he griped it hard, trembling as he used to do. As soon as the Pope felt him; Go on Father, saith he, and touch me so again, for I am ex∣treamly pleased wi••h it: so his pain left him. This

Clement himself often attested, and especially in the Congregation for the Examination of Bishops.

It pleased Almighty God to renew the same Mira∣cle again, by his Servant Juvenall Ancina, Bishop of Salucioe, of whom we have formerly spoken, and written his Life in Italian some years ago. For in the year One thousand six hundred and two it chanced, in the City of Fossano, Thomas Baua then Governour of the place, and after a Senator of Taurini, was sick of the Gout; whom Juvenall coming to see, without any Ceremony presently tels him; This disease, Baua, was thus cured by my Father Philip: and att he same time labours to take hold of his hand that was diseased; but the Patient pulled it away, fearing he would pain him worse. Juvenall bids him, Be of good chear; for thus, said he, catching him by the diseased hand, my Father Philip cured Clement VIII of his Gout. He had no sooner said those words, but Baua was quit of his pain, and could use his fingers at pleasure, clutching his Fist divers times together, being never after affected with that Malady.

The like happened to Attilius Tinozzius; who being pained so with the Gout, that he might not be touched, was visited by Philip, who asked him, How he did; Very ill, saith he, but have a care you do not touch my foot. Doubt not, replies Philip, and on the sudden taking him by the foot, crossed it, and immediately he was cured; yea he who had been often troubled with the Gout before, never had it af∣ter.

John Manzolius aff••rms, that whensoever he was ill of the Gout, he used no other Remedy but to go to the H. Father, and intreat him to touch the distem∣pered part but with his hand, and thereby was in∣stantly

healed: the same divers others do testify to have befallen them.

In brief, it was so usuall for him to cure diseases, by the bare touching the sick with his hands, that Cardinall Taurusius was wont to say, That Sacred and Soveragin hand of his, by the meer touch thereof did both comfort the sad, and cure the sick. And An∣gelus Victorius, Philips Physician having been oft freed of the Headach by him, said; That he rather gained Remedy from Philip, than gave any to him.

CHAP. III. Cures wrought by his Prayers.

LAurentius Christianus a Priest Beneficed in the Va∣tican Church, whose Confession Philip was used to take, had a most violent Fever, which brought him so low, that being fortified by receiving the B. Sa∣crament and Extream Ʋnction, he lay a drawing on. The H. man being assistant to him, falling into his wonted tremblings, and exultation of Spirit, kneels down by him and prayes: which done, Laurentius, saith he, shall not dy now; and coming nearer, lays his hand on his head, calling him by his Name. He straight opens his eyes, knows Philips voice, and by and by lost his Fever.

Barth. Fuginius, a Roman, lying desperately sick was anointed, and by the Phy∣sicians left as past hope. Philip * 1.74 asked Angelus Vellius, who was his Confessor, before many that were by, how the ••linick did; this was about Evening: he answered

He is a dying; for the Physicians said, he would scarce live till Morning. At that saith Philip to his Sons; Will ye have the Man live or, dy? they all an∣swered, Live, if it be possible. Then quoth he; Let every one say five Pater Nosters, and as many Ave Marias: they did so, and in the Morning Fuginius was perfectly recovered.

Barsum Archdeacon of Alexandria began to be af∣fected with a consumptive Fever, for he spit bloud, and the Doctors * 1.75 gave him over. Hier. Viecchiettus, who brought Barsum from Egypt to Rome, repairs hereupon to Phi∣lip, desiring him to recommend the sad condition of the Archdeacon to God. And as Philip was at Mass, they perceived Barsum in a quiet sleep, who for three dayes and nights had not so much as slumbred: afterward the B. man appointed Barsum should be brought to Him; Hie∣rom tells him, he must get up, and take Coach, for saith he, Philip hath commanded so. He answers, He could not possibly. Hierom was urgent with him to rise, if it were but only because Philip required him. So Barsum takes heart, and riseth, and is had in a Coach to Philip: the Good man goes to meet him, kisseth and embraceth him, where they spent some time in mutuall Caresses. Barsum meanwhile, find∣ing his strength come to him, intreats Philip to con∣tinue his prayers for him hoping by this means to obtain health from the Most high God, as he called him. The Father promiseth him, and bids him go to Cardinall Frederic Borromeo upon some certain business: and as they went, See, saith Barsum, I am perfectly well. For so he was, and in few dayes became so lusty, that those who had seen him sick,

not knowing him by his looks, said in merriment; This is not Barsum, but some other like him.

He not long after returning to Alexandria, when Philip was dead, came again to Rome, where in an Oration to Clement VIII. recounting the particular Favours, he had received in the City, he made a large and honourable mention among the rest, of his Health restored to him at at the prayers of Philip.

John Manzolius, being about seventy years of age, was taken with a Flux, and Fever, and anointed with the H. Ʋnction, as unlikely to live, who calling his Nephew to him, bad him go to Philip, and pray him from me to send * 1.76 a Priest, to commend my soul to God, now I am a dying, and to as∣sign me a place of Buriall when I am dead, as he shall think fit. His Nephew did as he bid him, and Philip sent Matthias Maffeus, a Priest whom he lov∣ed entirely. Now the Phisicians had declared, that within two hours he would certainly dye, and his kinred had provided Mourning ready; nay the Bro∣thers of the Society of Misericordia were invited to his Funerall, and Montes Zazzara, one of them, in the Morning told Philip, that Manzolius was dead. The B. man replyed, Manzolius neither was dead, nor would dy of this sickness: and therewith sends for Maffeus, and asks, How he did; be times this Morn∣ing I hear he dyed, says he. You are much mistaken, replied Philip; go again, and be sure you see him your self. He goes and finds him alive, and well. For that night the H. man had put up long and most fervent Prayers for him, and knew very well what he had obtained of God. Manzolius had long before

desired Philip to be with him at his death; who an∣swered; I shall dy before you. And so it proved, for Man∣zolius survived Philip two years.

Alexander Corvinus a Noble man, who had lived much in the Court of Rome, fell dangerously ill; whereupon sayes Philip to his Sons; We must take some care of Alexander. So he presently repairs to him, as he lay and sayes Mass with him, for there was a Chappell there; but whilst he was cele∣brating those Divine Mysteries, he began to be transported with such a Fervour of Holy Love, showr∣ing down such plenty of Tears, and sending forth such Vollies of sighes, that you would easily affirm he must needs procure health to the sick Person. So soon as Mass was done he bid the Clinick chear up, and assuring him of his recovery went away: two days after Corvinus left his bed, and came to the Court and shewed himself in as good plight as ever.

Pompeius Paterius Priest of the Congregation falling into a violent Fever, Philip comes to him, hears his confession, and * 1.77 being seized with his wonted trembling, having prayed awhile, laid his hands on his head, saying as his manner was, doubt not: at which very words he was instant∣ly eased, eat his meat with his usuall appetite, and re∣gained his Former strength.

Another time going into ▪S. James's▪ Hospitall of the Incurabili, He found a sick man sensless, and speechless, with a Crucifix, and a lighted Taper set by him, according to the custome, adrawing on. Philip fervent in Spirit, falling on his knees prayes, and excites all that were present to do the same; whereupon he forthwith returned to his senses. Then He made the Sickman be lift up, and fit upright in

his bed and meat to be set before him. The next day one of his went to see the man and found him perfectly recovered.

Victoria Varesia was unsufferably tormented with an Humour that fell down into her right hand, and swelled it, which, though she had tried severall Me∣dicines, yet every day grew worse, insomuch that the Sinews and Nerves waxed stiff; so coming to Philip, she told him. This Rehem that troubles me, runs almost all over my body, and I am affraid my right hand will be benummed. He looking up to heaven, and shooke with his wonted trembling, presseth the grieved part with his hand, bidding her hope well and so dispatcheth her. As she went home, she be∣thought her self, whether it were best to chafe her hand with Ointments, as she used to do, or throw away the Sear-cloth; as she was thus in suspence, she said to her self; What dare I not trust the Sanctity of Philip? Have I not placed all the hope of my recovery in him? Why do I yet stick at it? And immediately pulling off her Searcloth, she flung it into the fire, and presently was able to turn her hand as nimbly, and follow her employments, as she did formerly, in a short space regaining her lost strength.

John Baptist Guerrius, a Brother of the Congregati∣on, as he was one evening putting up Silk Hangings in the Church, * 1.78 fell of the Ladder which was some twenty five handfulls high, dash∣ing his head against the Marble Pavement, where he lay for dead. The People running in, take him him up, lay him into his Bed, send for the Physicians, some of which affirm, he was past cure; others, that hi••

wound must be searched; and his Skull opened. Meanwhile it comes to Philip, who immediately be takes him to his Prayers, and bids the rest do so too. After this Angelus Victorius the Physician sends for him, telling him the wound was mortall: at which Philip smiled, saying; I would not have him dy now, therefore I will beg him of God, by fervent and effectuall Prayer. And he made good his words, for that night Guerrius slept well, and in the Morning rose, and went about his occasions, though they would have had him keep his bed, and when the Physicians came thinking to find him with his Fever and Convulsion upon him, he was in firm strength.

Bertinus Riccardus of Vercellae, one of the Congre∣gation too, was taken with an acute Fever, which brought him into a Frenzy, and extream perill of Death; whom, for that he had neither received the Sacraments, nor ordered his affairs, Philip pitying, earnestly besought God, that he might partake in the Sacraments, and settle all other business. After Prayer the man instantly returned to his right mind, confessed his Sins, took the H. Eucharist, made his Will, and having disposed of every thing relapsed into his Frenzy, and duly prepared by H. Vnction ended his life.

The like hapned to one that was sick in the Hos∣pitall of Santo Spirito. Philip coming thither with his Sons, said; Let us go, whither God calls me: and went directly to a man, whom he found speechless and a dying. So he betook him to his Prayers, and in a little while the sick party recovered his Speech, disburden••d his conscience, received the Celestiall Viands; and rendring thanks to God, peaceably died. For he came to the Hospitall, but was not able to make his Confess••on, for the violence of his disease.

In short, what ever the H. man by his Prayers and Supplications procured for others, he ordinarily obtained, when he was in dangers, for himself. Whereof take these two of many instances. He some∣times went with his in a Coach to the seven Churches, when on a sudden fell such a fierce storm, that he was forced to go back; And as they came to the Bank of Tiber, beneath Mount Aventine, the Rain had so overflown the ways, that the Coach fell into a deep trench; but before they were far sunk into it, through the Mercy of God they all got out at the hinder end of the Coach: Philip going to his Pray∣ers at the next Church, the rest to get Oxen, to draw their Horses forth. But no sooner had the H. man kneeled down, but the Horses with the Coach came out safe of themselves.

Another time, going with his in a Coach to the seven Churches, those that were with him leaping out, he alone stayed in it. In the way was a Narrow Bridge, where as the Coach came, the Wheels of it were seen carried upon the air by the side of the Bridge, which they that went on foot beholding cri∣ed out, O Jesu! but the Coach went over secure; they all attributing it to a Miracle. Afterwards a Gravell-pit in like manner was in their way, which he passed over without any harm, beyond all ex∣pectation: and yet some Noble Matrons, presently after falling into it, were shrewdly hurt, their Coach breaking, one of the Horses killed, and one of the Ladies having her Arme, the other her Leg broke.

CHAP. IIII. He drives away diseases by his Command.

ANna Morona lay very ill, and her desease pro∣ceeded so far, that those about her dispaired of her life. To her comes Philip trembling, as he used to do, and lays his hand on her, calling her by her name, and saying; Anna, say with me, Lord, Phi∣lip bids me live still. And as she repeated the words, she revived, and immediately grew well.

In Turris Speculorum, Maria Felix a Castro had been sick of a Fever about one hundred days, and be∣ing even at last gasp almost, sends for the Servant of God, who coming in hastily asked, what was her dis∣ease. A Fever; saith she. Chear up, quoth he, doubt not, and withall laying his r••ght hand on her, said; I command thee O Fever, to depart from this creature of Gods. He had no sooner said so, but the Fever went away, and never troubled her more.

In the same House, Sigismunda Capozucchia for five Moneths together had a Quartan Ague, and Phi∣lip accidentally coming thither, she desired his Prayers to God for her health. He lifting up his hand said; I will not have the, any more tormented with thy Ague. Philip departs, and with all the Fever straight.

He was once in company with his Scholars, when on a sudden comes a man, earnestly recommend∣ing to him one that was sick. The Good man smiled and turning to those that were by, asked: Will you have this sick man well? they all answer, Yea. Then quoth he to the Messenger, Go tell the party, Philip forbids you to dy. He went and did so, and the man believed him, and recovered. The

same many confess hath befallen them.

The Cook of the Congregation one time fell sick: a man so vertuous, and so favoured of God, that when ever he dressed any fish, and went away in hast from them, he would leave them to the Cats to keep, who punctually obeyed his commands. Philip bearing much affection to the man, wished Caesar Baronius to take care of him, and be with him, who by rea∣son of the continuall pains he took, fell into a Fe∣ver. The Father bids him, command the Fever in his Name to be gone; he relying on the B. man said; In the name of Philip, I charge thee, O Fever, to depart from me. And as he said those words, he put on his cloths, and rose, diligently attending the Cook, as well as ever.

Once he said to Anto••ina Raida that good woman Look you be not sick, before you ask me leave first. In∣somuch that as oft as she felt any grudgings of a di∣sease on her, she would go to Philip, and say: Fa∣ther, is't your pleasure, I should be sick? if he an∣swered, It is: the disease increased; If he said No: it went away presently. Which she affirmed, she had often tried.

Another Woman, alike vertuous, had many dayes kept her bed, whom Philip visits, enjoyning her to go to the next day to Church to hear Mass; & lo▪ that night her fever left her, she was well, & went to Mass in the morning to S. Hieroms Church, being never after troubled with her disease.

Alexander Illuminatus, a Brother of the Oratory, one appointed to wait on the H. Father, had a vein sprung in his Stomack, that he spit bloud. So Phi∣lip one day calling to him said: I will not have you molested any more with this malady: upon the very ut∣tering of which words he never after voided bloud.

The like betided Pet. Focilius, to whom Philip came, as he lay a dying, his Mother coming to meet him, said; Father, help me: he answered; Doubt not, for your Son shall not dy; for I would not have him dy now. And straight way he began to mend, and recovered.

One Ambrosio that lay Bed-rid, insomuch as he could not sit up in his Bed, but as he was lifted by o∣thers, * 1.79 upon Philips coming to him, and saying, Ambrosio, Rise; presently sate up, and within a while after was re∣stored to his former health.

CHAP. V. His various Miraculous Cures wrought on divers.

TOrquatus de Comitibus lay sick of a grievous dis∣ease, so that Taurusius perswaded him to con∣fess his Sins to Philip, hoping by that means he might recover his health: he followed his counsell, and thereupon the H. man was sent for. When Torquatus, being in the middle of his Confession, per∣ceived himself presently cured.

A Country man, that was in a very sad disease, came from Palumbaria, a Town not far from Rome to Philip, desiring him to pray to God for him, ei∣ther to procure him health, or a mitigation of his pain. To whom the B. Man only prescribes Sacra∣mentall Confession, upon the performance whereof he soon recovered. Going home into his Coun∣trey, and proclaiming abroad what had befallen

him, his Countrey men seeing him so well, being themselves affected as he was, came divers of them up to Rome to Philip: saying; And we likewise would gladly be healed by you, as you cured our Countrey∣man of late: the Good man, taken with their Sim∣plicity, hears their Confession, and sent them home joyfull to Palumbaria.

Eugenia Mansueta was exceedingly afflicted, al∣most a year and a half together, with a grievous Boil; which so * 1.80 swelled her Nose, that she not on∣ly could not go abroad, but was even ashamed to be seen at home. And having used many Medicines could have no ease: but being wont to wash the Clouts and Rags which Philip used for an Issue; and taking one of them, more bloudied then the rest, she put it to her face with great confidence of help, and immediately her Ʋlcer left her for ever after.

Lucrecia Citara, a Roman having been four Moneths with child, grew so ill by reason of an Issue of blood, that no Remedies she tried would help her. Cassandra Raida, who had the H. mans Linnen by her to wash, hearing of it and pitying the Woman brought her a Cap of Philips, without his know∣ledge, telling her: This Cap is Father Philip Ne∣ri's, and if with faith you do apply it to your grief, I doubt not but you will find help. Lucrecia did so, and was instantly freed of her Malady. Philip knowing by Revelation what was done, and hating humane Applause, sharply chid Cassandra, and made her presently fetch him his Linnen.

Steven Calcinardus, for about a Moneth, had a continuall Fever, at last his Stomack grew so weak, he could retain no nutriment, but being anointed

with the H. Oile lay for dead. Francis Zazzara com∣ing to him, and bringing him some of the B. Fathers hair, then living, said: If you think you may recover your health by the Merits of Our Father Philip, I will lay these hairs to your brest: So I do; quoth he. When the hair was applied to his Stomack, he presently fell asleep, and after he had rested an hour he waked, and eat his meat with a good appetite, and it staid with him, his Fever straight left him, and within four dayes after he was in perfect health.

Hercules Cortisinius of Carpium, living at Rome with Montes Zazzara, and hearing so many and Marvailous things of Philip, had a huge desire to see and conferr with the H. man. Francis Zazzara takes him with him to the Father, who as soon as he saw the Old man, shook with a pious awe, and kneel∣ing besought his Blessing, heartily betaking him unto his Prayers. Departing thence after Philip thus seen, he was so in love with him, that he said; To day have I seen a Holy man indeed. And being to return in∣to his Country a while after, out of devotion to Philip, he desired some of his clothes with him, whom some of the House presented with a pair of his wol∣len Socks, and Philip also gave a Rosary of Our Ladys. So he returned to Carpium: and in August, as he was walking, a pain in his head took him, that he was not able to stand for the very anguish of it: and remembring that he brought some things of Philips from the City with him, he calls to his Wife, and bids her, Fetch me that I brought in a bag from Rome. She laughed, when she saw the woollen Socks, and asked; Husband, have you any need of such things as these? Hold your tongue, quoth Hercules, only do as I bid you. She obeys him, and he putting the Socks to his forehead made this prayer; I beseech thee, O

Lord, for the devout affection I bear to Father Philip, free me of these pains. No sooner had he said so, but his headach was gone. Not long after the Ne∣phew of Hercules being in a Pleurisy was like to dy; the Servants of the House did but apply one of those Socks to him, and his Pleurisy ceased, the Fever left him, and he was restored to his former health.

Patricius Patricius, else where named, kept his Bed, being ill in his Stomack, and troubled with the Colick, Germanicus Fidelius going from Philip to see him, courteously salutes him: who presently tels him: O Germanicus, hearken to a strange but true Story; this Night being in great torment, destitute of all help or direction, Our Philip came in my mind, to whom com∣mending my self, as if he had been present, I said: Fa∣ther Philip help me; pray for me. I had scarce spoke the word, but my pain quite ceased, and I was well.

Germanicus himself being troubled with a Rupture, and having used many Remedies, which made him rather worse, at length coming to Philip, like him in the Gospell, he said, Father, if you will, you can make me whole. He answered, Doubt not, you shall be healed. He depending on those words of Philip without any Medicine was cured straight.

CHAP. VI. He helps divers Women in Childbirth.

THe like Audience had he, when he prayed for such as were in Childbirth, freeing them oft∣times from the perils thereof. At Novaria, John Baptist Boniperto's Brothers Wife, having gone eight

Moneths of her time, miscarried to the hazard of her life: which Boniperto hearing of by Letters, he went to Philip and acquainted him with it. He bad him; Write to your Sister in Law, that I will not have her bring forth any more abortives: she upon the reciet of those Letters, not only escaped the dan∣ger wherein she was, but in her whole life after was very happily delivered still, although she had no less than twelve Children.

Delia Buscallia, of Vicenza, after having been with child more then seven moneths was half delivered of a Still-born * 1.81 Child, and falling into a Swoon her body grew stiff, only her heart panted a little; the Midwife hear∣ing that they sent for the Physici∣ans, cryes out; What for? help must be fetched from heaven, and not from men; and this I assure you of, if ye pluck away the Child by force, it must necessarily be torn in pieces, and then the Woman is irrecoverably lost. Above two days was Delia tortured with these pangs, at last her Husband sends for Philip, who, as soon as he came into the Chamber, put his Cap on her; then kneeling down, and looking up to heaven, wept and said: Ho, you there, repeat the Lords Prayers, and Angelicall Salutation five times. After∣ward rising he put his mouth to her ears, and cries out, Delia: she asks Father, what is your will with me? That all study Holiness; quoth he: God grant it; replied she: but Father, I am very ill. Doubt not, you will do well again: sa••th Philip; and signing her with the signe of the Cross went his way. He was not quite at the bottom of the stairs, but he bid her Husband, that followed him, Go back, for your Wife is recovered. He returnes, finds her in health

and that Night she went about her business in the House, as if she had never bin ill at all, & left her bed. The same Delia, when she was sick of a Pleurisy, at a∣nother time, was by the H. man restored to health.

Faustina Capozucchia, the Wife of Domitius Cec∣chinus, having been with Child now seven Moneths, fell into such a violent sickness, that after twenty two days, she seemed past all hope of cure. The Ser∣vant of God coming to her, lifts up his Eyes to hea∣ven, and lays his right hand on her forehead, say¦ing: Lord, I will have the Soul of this Child, I will not be denied it, Lord; and so went away. By and by he returnes, and saying the same words again, departs. Mean-time Faustina was brought abed of a Daughter, which being Regenerate by Baptisme, both It, and the Mother after died.

Olympia Trojana lay for dead, in the throws of a hard travell, her Servants all bewailing her; and there remaining no expectancy of aid from men, she made Philip be sent for, whom she reverenced for his Holiness, having heard of the many Miracles done by him. The H. man pitying her, and especi∣ally that the Infant might not dy unbaptized, m••de hast to her, and being come into the Room, having prayed, he only laid his hand on her, and went a∣way. Being gone, the woman had a very quick delive∣ry, and was well; the Child also, be••ng Christened, was added to the Number of the Heavenly Quire.

Ersilia, formerly spoken of, was strongly con∣ceited, she should dy of the Child she then went with, wherein she was so peremptory, that none could perswade her out of her opinion. Being much perplexed about it, as she was going out of the Church one day, she light upon Philip, who said soft∣ly to her; See what a silly Woman fancieth to her self!

and laying his hand on her, bade her hope well: and immediately she became chearfull, left grieving, and in a few days after had a very easy Labour.

Besides divers others by the Prayers of Philip be∣came joyfull Mothers of Children, which are here omitted, Yet may it not be passed over, that though Philip used to crave Temporall Blessings of ••od under a Condition, he would say absolutely in the case of Women in Childbirth; Lord I will have this granted me, namely, that these Infants, which are to be born, be likewise Born anew by H. Baptisme. He was wont also, that the Miraculous effects, done daily by him at the Labour of Women, through the Blessing of God, might not be ascribed to his Merits, to carry a∣bout with him a certain Pouch very helpfull to Wo∣men in Travell, saying, that there were Reliques in it, and that he never applied it to any in Childbirth, but it availed much either to the Mother, or the Child.

Cleria Bonarda, the Wife of Claudius Neri, had always very difficult Labours; and being near her time, she was exceeding fearfull. Her Labour com∣ing on her, Philip sent her that Bag, which she de∣voutly applying, had so easy a Delivery, that she scarce knew she was brought abed. The like is re∣ported of many more.

When the B. Father was dead, some of his Sons, desirous to see what was in that Pouch, pulled forth a great many Beads, but found nothing at all, save a Handkerchief, in the middle of which was a little Cross, wrought with purple Silk, and a small Medall of S. Helen's, such as they use to hang about Chil∣drens necks. Whereby they perceived, that the Holy Man carried it to Travelling Women, to the end they might not attribute, as is said, the Miracles to him, but to those Holy and Sacred Reliques.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  What is Writ concerning his Childhood is from the rela∣tion of his Sister, of his own mouth, of Ludovico Parigi his most ancient and familiar freind.
• * 1.2

  Many have seen this, and fourteen witnes∣ses, persons of credit, have confirmed it by Oath.
• * 1.3

  a Monte Zazza∣ro testified this upon oath.
• * 1.4

  This was publickly attested by John Francis Bordinus Archbishop of A∣vignion.
• * 1.5

  This is attested by divers sworn Witnesses.
• * 1.6

  His rapts at Mass were testified by the Cardinals, Paravi∣sini and Tarugi, upon oath, and by a∣bove twenty more Witnesses.
• a 1.7

  This was known in a manner to all the City.
• * 1.8

  Card. Tarugi Testi∣fied this upon Oath.
• * 1.9

  Card. Tarugi witnessed this upon Oath.
• * 1.10

  Of this are four Witnesses upon Oath, who were present; two of them Priests.
• * 1.11

  This was attested by an eye-witness.
• * 1.12

  Of this Jacobus Marmita writ a relation, who was present; as were likewise divers of Philips Sons.
• * 1.13

  This is com∣monly known.
• * 1.14

  This she testifi∣ed upon Oath.
• * 1.15

  a This is testified upon oath by Card. Tarugi, the same Prospe∣ro and divers o∣thers.
• * 1.16

  This is ave••red by three sworn wit∣nesses, all Priests.
• a 1.17

  See the twentieth cha∣pter of the Life of S. Te∣resa, where she hath these words.

  [And so extream is the violence of these Rapts, that many times I have endeavoured to resist them, and have put all my strength to it, and especially when they came up∣on

  

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  me in publike, and often also in private (fearing lest I might be deceived) but seldom could I prevaile, and that also but very little. And it cost me a very great deal of harrassing and toile to my self, just so as if an ordinary person had been fighting with some strong Giant; and afterward I should find my self very weary. But at othertimes it was altogether impossible for me to hinder it; for my Soul would be carried ab∣solutely away, and (ordinarily) even my head (as it were) after it; yea and this sometimes so far, as that my whole body would be transported so, as to be raised up from the ground. This last hath hapned rarely to me; but once it was upon the very point to arrive, whilst we all were assembled together in the Quire; and I being then upon my knees (and at the point of going to receive the blessed Sacrament) it put me to an extreamity of trou∣ble, because it seemed to be a very extraordinary thing, & that instantly there would be much notice taken of it, and so I commanded my religious women (for at that time I was Prioress) that they should not speak of it to any creature. But at other times when I began to dis∣cern, that our Lord was going about to do the same a∣gain (and once, in particular, when divers principall Ladyes were present; and it was upon the Feast of our Patron when there was a Sermon) I did even spread my self all along upon the ground, and though the re∣ligious women came then about me, to keep my body down, yet the thing was easily perceived. Ʋpon this I humbly prayed our Lord in most particular manner, that by no means he would do me any such favours, as might carry any of these exterior demonstrations with them; for already I was very weary of being continually so wary and watchfull over my self: for that such kind of favours could not possibly be done me by his Divine Majesty, but so that every body would come to know it.

  And it seems that through his goodness he hath been pleased to hear my prayer; for since that time I never had any Rapts of that kind, and to that proportion; but it is true, that it is not long since I had the last. Moreover when I endeavoured to hinder such a Rapt, so strong a hand and power from under my feet seemed to lift me up, that I know not what to compare it unto: for it was done with much greater force, than in those other things that belong to the Spirit: and therefore I remained as it were bruised and dismembred with it.]
• * 1.18

  This Bernardine Corona a Citi∣zen of Rome, & others witnessed upon oath.
• a 1.19

  This was publish∣ed by Vincent Daffabriano who was present.
• * 1.20

  Of this Cardinal Taurusius, and Germanicus Fi∣delius are sworn witnesses.
• a 1.21

  This was testified by three witnesses of credit.
• * 1.22

  This was attested by sworn witnesses
• * 1.23

  Of this Tamiria is a sworn wit∣ness.
• * 1.24

  This Tamira pub∣lickly affirmed.
• * 1.25

  Of this are two sworn witneses.
• * 1.26

  This three sworn witnesses attested.
• * 1.27

  This Desiderius and J. Compa∣rottus, with two ey-witnesses more publikely attested.
• * 1.28

  This Cardinall Taurusius pub∣lickly attested.
• * 1.29

  Of this are two sworn ey-witnes∣ses, besides Con∣stantia herself.
• * 1.30

  This the same Francis, and A∣lexander Allu∣minatus, who at∣tended him in his sickness witnessed upon oath.
• * 1.31

  Of this (to omit o∣thers) Cardinall Taurusius is a sworn witness.
• * 1.32

  This himself (whose name was Peter Philip Lazaret∣tus) witnesed upon oath.
• * 1.33

  This Cardinal Tau∣rusius (to o•• it o∣thers) testified upon oath.
• * 1.34

  This Cardinal Baronius af∣firmed upon oath
• * 1.35

  This Card. Fr. Ma∣ria T••urusius him∣self avouched upon oath.
• * 1.36

  Of this (besides the oaths of the Cardinals Fred. Boro∣meo, Fr. Ma∣ria Taurusins, and Caesar Baronius) are threescore wit∣nesses upon oath persons of known inte∣grity.
• * 1.37

  This Guerrius witnessed upon oath.
• * 1.38

  This Hector Modius wit∣nesses upon oath.
• * 1.39

  This was confirm∣ed by the person himself.
• * 1.40

  This Begerius himself witnessed upon Oath.
• * 1.41

  This Claudius, his Wife, and Children, all af∣firmed upon oath.
• * 1.42

  This Mutius him∣self testified upon Oath.
• * 1.43

  This is delivered in upon oath by four persons.
• * 1.44

  This Cardinall Taurusius wit∣nessed upon oath.
• a 1.45

  Testified upon oath by Car. Ta∣rugi and divers others.
• * 1.46

  This the Priest himself witnessed upon oath.
• * 1.47

  Her self testifi∣ed this upon o••th.
• * 1.48

  This Fabricius Maximus a No∣ble Roman and Violantes his wife; and Fran∣cisca wife of An∣tonia a Castro, who were present, testified upon oath.
• * 1.49

  This whole fact was witnessed up∣on oath by those five who were pre∣sent, Angelus Victorius, Ri-Alexand. Allu∣minaty, Franc. dolf. Silvestri, Zazzara, and Anthon. Gallo∣nius.
• * 1.50

  This Francis Zazzara witnes∣sed upon oath.
• * 1.51

  Of this Germa∣nicus Fidelius is a sworn witness.
• * 1.52

  This Nerus him∣self delivered up∣on oath.
• * 1.53

  This Jo. Baptist himself testified upon 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.54

  These things were witnessed upon oath by Germa∣nicus.
• * 1.55

  This he himself publickly attested
• * 1.56

  This the Virgin herself witnessed upon oath.
• * 1.57

  Six sworn ey-wit∣nesses attested this
• * 1.58

  Six ey-witnesses affirmed this.
• * 1.59

  Himself and three more eye witnesses testified this upon oath.
• * 1.60

  Three that were present affirmed this upon oath.
• * 1.61

  This was a vouch∣ed by the oaths of e-ywitnesses.
• * 1.62

  This seven ey-witnesses attested upon their oaths.
• * 1.63

  This Promotheus testi¦fied upon oath.
• * 1.64

  This Antonia and her Husband wit∣nessed upon oath.
• * 1.65

  Of this were four sworn ey-witnesses (beside Jo. Fran∣cis) of whom one is that Noble Lady Julia Ursina Rangonia
• * 1.66

  This Carlo and his Mother Livia Vestria both pub∣likely attested.
• * 1.67

  This himself te∣stified.
• * 1.68

  Testified by her self.
• * 1.69

  Of this (besides Ka∣therine herself) are three sworn ey-wit∣nesses.
• * 1.70

  Her self witnes∣sed this.
• * 1.71

  This was receiv∣ed from her hus∣band; & witnessed by Ersilia her self upon oath.
• * 1.72

  Of this (besides Laura her self) are three sworn ey-witnesses.
• * 1.73

  This was taken from the Cardi∣nals, Cusanus, Borromeus, Tau∣rusiu, Baronius: who had it from the Pope himself.
• * 1.74

  Of this are two sworn ey-witnes∣ses, besides Bar∣tholomew him∣self.
• * 1.75

  This is attested publikly by two ey-witnesses, be∣sides the Arch∣deacon himself.
• * 1.76

  Of this (besides Manzolius) are witnesses sworn of those that were present.
• * 1.77

  Himself witnes∣sed it.
• * 1.78

  Of this are nine sworn ey-witnes∣ses; among whom Angelus Victo∣rius is one who ascribed the cure to a miracle.
• * 1.79

  Of this Julian Fus∣cherius a Priest, who was present, is a sworn witness.
• * 1.80

  Of this (besides Eugenia herself) are two sworn ey-witnesses.
• * 1.81

  This Delia her self, and Gaspar her husband af∣firmed upon oath.