The Miraculous life and Vertues of Saint Isidore Husbandman, and Pa­trone of Madrid in Spaine, lately canonized by Pope Gregory the XV. Abridged and translated out of Spanish.

SAINT Isidore was borne in the ancient Kingdome of Castile, in the famous Cittie of Ma­drid in Spaine, where the Kinges Court is ordinarily kept, a­bout the yeere of our Lord 1130. of [Page 6]very Catholike and deuout Pa­rents, though of meane condition, whom they piouslie brought vp, and instructed in all kinde of ver­tue, according to their poore abi­litie, especially in Prayer, saying of his Beades, hearing Masse, fre­quenting of Sermons, Exhortati­ons, and the like: and for corporal exercises, he was brought vp and taught to Till and manure the ground in maner of a Laborer or Husbandman. After that he was growen to mans estate, and his Parents both dead, he married a wife, of an honest, though poore family, like vnto himselfe, and be­ginneth to dispose and set in order that little meanes which he had, still following his manuall art of Husbandrie, labouring for day­wages and hire, for other Hus­bandmen of the Countrey that were rich, and had landes of their owne to manure. But yet with all he had got a pious custome and [Page 7]vse, which grew vp with him euen from his Childhood, to heare Masse dailie before hee began to labour, Which he neuer omitted, though there were neuer so great hast of worke to be done.

And for this cause, certaine of his neighbours, through the insti­gation of the diuell (who now be­gan to make hoate war vpon S. Isidore for his sanctitie and holy­nesse of life which they could not endure) stirred vp against him his maister, of whom he had taken a peece of ground to plow, and was to labour by the day, complaining grieuously of him, that he came euery day very late to worke and that besides, he omitted the same oftentimes in the day and went to his praiers. His mai­ster the Farmer was much incen­sed against him, by hearing this their accusation, and one day fal­ling into a fit of choller at their re­portes, presently went vnto him [Page 8]in the field, to see if it were true or no which they had told him by way of complaint. And comming in all hast vnto the field, where S. Isidore was to be at his work, he saw three plowes going, two whereof were drawne & gouerned by Angels in the likenes of young men, cloa­thed in most pure and white gar­ments.

At the first sight whereof stan­ding amazed, he drew neeres vn­to them, when vpon the sudaine they vanished away. Heere vpon he came to S. Isidore, whom hee found at the other plow, & seeing so much worke done beyond his expectation, he fel downe at his seruants feete, and cryed him par­don for so easily beleuing the false reportes, his neighbours had made of him, assuring himselfe of the trueth of the wordes which Saint Isidore had often told him, to wit, that how much time soeuer he spent in prayer, the same was recompensed larg­lie [Page 9]in his worke, by the handes of his sweete Sauiour, and rather to the pro­fite, then any way to the lest hinderance or losse of his Maister. And so he de­parted with confusion in himselfe, and full of loue and reuerence to­wards his seruant.

As soone as his said maister was departed, the Angels returned a­gaine vnto the plowes, and as they laboured, they taught S. Isidore, and instructed him in many my­steries of his faith, accompanying him all that day vntill night, going home with him also, euen to his house, whither when hee came he found a poore Pilgrime at his doore, asking an almes of meate, for the refreshing of his body, who calling his wife, and bidding her giue the Pilgrime some what to eate, shee replyed sadly, and said, there was nothing in the house.

Hee bid her looke into the Potte for some Pottage and Flesh: [Page 10]but she knowing that al was spent said there was assuredly none left, and withall she tooke vp the Pot into her hands to shew that it was empty. But behold a wonder, for she felt the Pot heauy, and looke­ing thereinto, found it full of very excellent Pottage & Flesh, where with she fed the Pilgrime liberal­ly, and with admiration acknow­ledge the miracle: her husband in the meane time with drawing himselfe into an inner roome, and falling to his praiers as his cu­stome was. The same night he be­ing a sleepe, the said Pilgrime ap­peared vnto him againe in the same habit, that he had done be­fore in the Euening, and seemed to awake him, and put vpon him a Pilgrims weede, and sayling o­uer the seas, conducted him to the holy land, whether when he was come, he shewed him all the pla­ces of chiefe note, where our Sa­uiour had taught, preached, was [Page 11]taken, examined, whipped, con­demned, and lastlie suffered death for our sakes. Which places S. Isido­re semed to reuerence, and greatly to adore, with gust and affection of hart, and afterward was presently conueyed backe to his own house, where the Pilgrime tooke his leaue and departed.

Vpon a time in a great Frost and Snow, one Iohn de Vargas a Farmer sent Saint Isidore to the Mill with a sacke of wheate, to haue it ground to make bread for his family. Saint Isidore tooke the sacke of corne early in the morning, and passing by a Church, he went in to heare Masse, as his vsuall custome was, which when he had done, he ha­sted on towards the Mill, and mett on the way others of the same vil­lage that went also thither with wheate in like manner. As they went talking and discoursing, they saw a great weather beaten tree growing in the way, on the bowes [Page 12]whereof sate white Piggeons so thicke, as they seemed euen to co­uer the whole tree, being flocked together and almost starued for want of foode that hard season, the ground being euery where co­uered with snow & yce. Saint Isidore when he drew neere vnto the tree cryed out with a loud voice and said: O Earth, the Mother of all li­uing creatures, why doest thou at this time deny food vnto these thy innocent Creatures? And then hee set downe his sacke of wheat, and putting away the snow with his feete, vncouered a great broad place of the ground, and ta­king Corne out of the sacke, hee strawed it there for the Piggeons, who all presently came from the tree, and before they would eate thereof did come to Saint Isidores feete, and with their beckes tou­ched, and pricked them, and his legges, in signe of reuerence to his sanctitie, and hauing so done, did [Page 13]feed themselues on the Corne. One of his Company that all this while stoode by, and looked on, be­gan to murmure against him, for so destroying and casting away his maisters wheate, but the rest were silent and stoode amazed at the thing. Then taking vp his sacke, which was well emptied by his liberality to Gods creatures, he came to the Mill, and put what was left to grinding, where the flower thereof did so multiplie be­tweene the Milstones, that he had his sacke as full of excellent meale (and more in measure also) as if he had not diminished any one graine of the corne. So as the mi­racle was manifest to al that knew what had passed.

Another time, when at night his worke was ended, going home­ward from the field, he went into a Church to pray, so as it being late before he came home, supper was ended, and the other workemen [Page 14]had eaten vp al the meate, saue on­ly a little morsell of flesh & pottage, which they had reserued for him. Hee tooke the same very conten­tedly, and carrying it to the dore, he there began to distribute it amongst a great number of poore people and pilgrims that passed by, and be­hould, the said meate did so multi­ply in his hands, in the distribu­tion thereof, that he serued a great multitude therewith before he ended, and euery one went away content & satisfied.

It so fell out at another time, vpon a very hoate day in sommer, that his maister or Land-Lord, comming into the field where he was at worke, and being much par­ched with heare, demamded if there were no water neere, where­by to quench his thirst. Saint Isidore said, there was a litle spring not far off, and shewed him the place. The man went speedily to quench his thirst, but finding neither spring, [Page 15]nor anie signe of water at all, re­turned in great anger, and thought Saint Isidore had mocked him. Wherevpon the Saint said, Come with me againe to the place, and I will shew it you. They went, and when they came thither there was no signe of any water, but Saint Isidore pricking the earth with a little goade he had in his hand, there presently sprung vp a very cleere, and excellent fountaine of water, which being taken by sicke persons, infinit number are daily cured of all kind of diseases. And this miraculous fountaine is yet euen seene in the fields, not far from the Cittie of Ma­drid, and is visited with great con­course of people daily, both from farre and neere.

The diuell enuying the sanctity and simplicity of this holy man, be­gan to deuise many plots and en­gines wherwith to entrappe him in his snares. And therfore he in­cited some of his neighbours, to [Page 16]accuse his wife vnto him of light­nes, and to be lesse chast then she ought. Which when Saint Isidore had oftentimes heard iterated in his cares, he was much afflicted and troubled in mind, for that the ru­mor therof began now to be spread abroad amonghst his friends to his great disgrace, as they pretented, and he beleeued. His wife whose name was Marie (being also a verie vertuous Godly woman) vnder­standing thereof, and seeing her lo­uing Husband perplexed and troub­led therewith, said vnto him Deare Husband, I vnderstand, and see also by your countenance, that you are much troubled with suspition of my Chastity: but be assured thereof there is no such thing, and that it is a meere Calumniation of both our honour: In testimonie and confir­mation whereof, I am euen now ready to passe ouer this Riuer (which was hard by) vpon the water, trusting wholy in the confi­dence [Page 17]of Gods mercy to cleere my selfe of this lewd imputation. And thereupon she presently tooke her mantle and going to the great Riuer of Xamara, spread the same vpon the water, and sate downe vpon it, and passed ouer without any hurt or danger. This being done in pre­sence of her Husband, and of many people, shee was fully cleered of all suspition, and the thing accounted for a manifest mira­cle.

S. Isidore, being much comforted in soule by the foresaid miracle, did very much honour his wife al­wayes after for her vertue, till her dying day, which (full of holynes) followed some few yeares after, and he left alone, who continually bestowed his time, and followed the manner of life he was accusto­med vnto before, but yet neuer omitted his hearing of Masse euery day, before he would take any worke in hand, nor his other de­uotions [Page 18]at diuers times in the day, as his vsuall manner was. He often also repayred to an Hermitage neere to Madrid, and spent many whole dayes and nights in pious discoursing with the Hermite, who was a Monke and a very holy man, and famous also for the gift of Prophesy, of whom Saint Isidore learned many thinges touching piety and deuotion, and was ther­by wonderfully illuminated also in many misteries of our Holy Faith, especially touching our B. Lady, to whome he was alwayes most deuout, saying his beades many times a day in her honour.

The holy Monke also instructed him, and taught him many other diuine thinges, whereby S. Isidore was greatly inflamed with desire of that kind of life, but yet he was al­wayes still resigned to the will of God. By the Hermites counsell al­so, he entred into the Confrater­nity of the Rosarie of our Blessed [Page 19]Lady, with great deuotion and exact obseruance of all [...]ules and Constitutions of the said Confrater­nity, and to the great edification of all his fellowes. And there was a custome in that Confraternity that on certaine dayes a distribution of bread and wine was made amongst the Sodales therof and a certaine part assigned to each one, which he had for his owne vse. Alwayes at these distributions, Saint Isidore gaue awaie his part to the poore. And on a time it happend, that his part assigned by the Confraternity, arriued to a good quantity, suffi­cient for the reliefe almost of twenty persons: Wherevpon he ta­king the bread and wine home to his house inuited all the poore peo­ple round about, who flocked thi­ther in great numbers, to whom he began to distribute the same with his owne hands, and it multiplied so much, that it sufficed three hundred persons, all being satisfied, [Page 20]and praysing God for the great libe­rality bestowed vpon them, and ac­knowledging the miracle.

Other Miracles which hee wrought in his life time are innu­merable, and would fill a great vo­lume to recount them al. But those which haue happened since his death at his holy Body, by his interces­sion to God, are sat more in number, some few only whereof according to the breuity this place requireth shalbe recounted afterwards, when we haue said a word or two of his death, which happened as fol­loweth.

In the yeare of our Lord 1170. which was the last of his life, whem by diuine Reuelation, hee knewe that his death drew neare, hee in­treated to haue the B. Sacrament brought vnto him, which hee re­ceaued with great Reuerence and Deuotion, and after made a long and most deuour speech to those of his househould and neigh­bours [Page 21]present, exhorting them to liue Christian-like, and in the feare of God, and obseruations of his holy Commandements. And so with a most sweete and a­miable Countenance, rich in me­rites, and famous for miracles, he quietly and most happely gaue vp his soule to God.

When the bruite of his happy death was spread abroad, the peo­ple of Madrid came to see and to touch his holy body, whom many held for a Saint for the miracles which they had heard him to haue done, but especially those of the villages neere about, and of the poorer sort of people, that were better acquainted with the manner of his life, and had seene, and bene present at many miracles, which he had wrought. Not-with-standing because he was exteriourlie poore, his body was buryed in the Churchyearde, in an ordinary Graue, among all other people, [Page 24]where it remained for the speace of 40. yeares, of whom all this while little or nothing more was spoken of, except it were amongst the meaner sort of people of the ad­ioyning Villages, who had byne best acquainted with him when he liued.

But our Lord, who would haue this his Saint honored as well in earth as in heauen, at the ende of fourtie yeares, reuealed his inten­tion to a pious and venerable Ma­tron of Madrid, who had all this time bene very deuour vnto Saint Isidore, for the miraculous things she had heard recounted of him by the fornamed Iohn de Vargas: wherfore to satisfie her deuotion, she dealt seriously with the Pastour of the Village, to haue his body transla­ted into the Church, and layed in some decent place therof, promi­sing to defray all the charges there about. The Pastour being a vertu­ens man, and hauing heard much [Page 25]talke of the miracles which he did when he liued, made further in­quirie thereof, and found that hee was in deede a very holy and inno­cent man, and that the Fountaine which was close by the village, and very profitable and commodious for all the people, for the excellent water there of, was mireculously rai­sed out of the ground by his merites: he dealt with the Bishop, expoun­ded vnto him the Matrons pious re­quest, and hauing obtained his licen­ce, appointed a certaine day for the remouall of the said body into the Church.

In the meane time there was a little Vault propared, humble and decent, at the cost of the foresaid deuout Matron, where his body was appoynted to be layde. And when the day appointed came, the people there about resorted to the solemnitie, according as the Pastour had informed and inuited them. All being ready, the Pastour [Page 24]with the rest of the Clergy of the Church, came in manner of procession to the Churchyard, and opening the Graue where his body lay, they found it whole and vn­corrupt, and as fresh and faire, as if he had byne dead but the day before (it being fourtie years com­plete after his decease) and from the same there proceeded so sweet and fragrant a smell, that it rauished all that were present. The graue was no sooner opened, but all the bels of the steeple began to ring in ex­cellent tune and order, of them­selues, and so continued during the Ceremony, and vntill he was translated into the Church, and laid in his new Sepulcher, to the astonishment of all that heard them: at which time also were hea­led many persons of many sorts of diseases.

After his body was thus de­cently laid in the Church, very many began to do great reuerence [Page 25]therto, and it pleased God to wit­nesse, of what great merit & esteeme he would haue this his seruant to be, by the many and wonderfull mira­cles daily wrought at the same by his intercession, of some whereof we shall speake a word. And first to be­gin with a continuall miracle, which remayneth euen vnto this day, the water of the fountaine which he mi­raculously raised out of the ground, hath cured infinite people of all sick­nesses and infirmities, and is had in very great esteeme by all the inhabi­tants both of the Citty and Coun­try roūd about, where you shall scar­cely find a house, who hath not some of the said water continually preser­ued in vialls of glasse or botles, ready for all infirmities or suddaine sick­nesse that may happen, especially a­gues, or blew spots. And when often­times there happeneth the sicknes of the plague, the people find none so presēt or assured remedy, as the water of the said fountaine.

Another miracle, that hath very often bene seene & testified by thou­sands of all sorts of people is, that the Lampe which hangeth before his se­pulcher, hath bene oftentimes ligh­ted from heauē, without putting any fire therto by the industry of man. Nay which is more, when there hath wanted oyle in the lampe, and the same filled with water, the weeke hath burned as cleere, and as bright as with oyle. Which some curious persons haue desired to proue and they themselues, both by putting in water, and lightning the weeke, be­cause they would not belieue the same without their owne experience.

The women of Spaine haue a very peculiar deuotion to S. Isidore when they are great with child, & in labour of Childbyrth, because very many haue bene safely deliuered, by his in­tercession, and by commending thē ­selues vnto him, in the extremity of their labour, & at such times as there hath bene little hope of life.

Those also who be troubled with the Gout, haue great deuotion vnto him, for that many haue bene holpē being in great extremity, and cured of that infirmity, by his merits and prayers.

Vpon a time, there was a man who desired to get a relique of the holy Saint, whether for himselfe, or for another, is not certainly knowne. This man watching his opportuni­ty, and hiding himselfe in the Church till all were gone thence, the dores being locked, came to the Tombe, and making shift to open a corner, so as he might reach vnto the holy bo­dy, cut off a finger from S. Isidore, with intention to carry the same a­way: and hauing put it vp into his pocket, and beginning to close vp the Tombe againe, that the thieft might not be perceaued, he was sud­dainly there arested, and made so im­moueable, that he could not styr a­foote. Wherupon fearing exceeding­ly to be discouered and punished for [Page 28]fact, he tooke the finger and put it to the ioynt from which he had cut it, and it instantly fastned therto againe, and thereupon he was presently set at liberty; and so closing vp the se­pulcher departed, giuing God and S. Isidore thankes, that no worse euill had happened vnto him, being also very sory for the rash attempt, which he had put in practice.

There haue happened many times great Drouthes in those partes for want of rayne, which hath caused such barrenesse of the ground, that the people haue bene ready to starue for want of corne: but by carrying S. Isidores sacred body in procession, the said drouth hath presently ceased, and raine hath so watered the earth, that it hath become presently feuite­full. And all the husbandmē in Spaine haue taken this holy Saint for their peculiar Patron, and doevse, euen vntill these daies, whensoeuer they sowe corne, to pray vnto S. Isidore, and call vpon him to blesse the same, [Page 29]offering a candle or some such like gift vnto his sepulcher, by whose in­tercession they hope to haue a happy haruest, and their piety in this kind is very seldome frustrated.

Certaine Gentlemen of Spaine trauayling on a time by Coach, and passing a very straite and narrow way vpon the side of a rocky hill, the hor­ses beinge furious, and their footing slippery, they fell downe, drawing the Coach with the people in it after them, into a mighty precipice; who seeing the imminent danger cried for helpe to S. Isidore, and presently the horses and Coach staied, hanging vpon the side of the rocke as it were in the ayre, vntill the people all got out, and saued themselues, to the number of 18. persons, and afterward drew vp the horses and Coach, with­out any further hurt. For this so eui­dent a miracle they all gaue God and S. Isidore thankes, and sent donaries to his Tombe in testimony of the same. The Angelicall Musicke, and [Page 30]celestiall harmony which hath bene often heard at his sepulcher is won­derfull, in so much, that infinite peo­ple haue witnessed the same, hauing bene hearers therof to their great astonishment.

His apparitiōs to many haue bene very illustrious, as may be read at lar­ge in the History of his life; and in particular he appeared once to Al­fonsus King of Castile, who making warre vpon the Moores, obtained a miraculous victory by his intercessiō & merits. As also he appared in a visiō at another time to one that lay sicke (and was berest of all hope of life by the Phisitians) bidding him take com­fort and haue confidence in God, for that he should recouer, and so pre­sently he became wel, and receaued a­gaine his perfect health.

And to conclude, the benefits which many haue receaued by the infinite miraculous Cures done at his sepul­cher, are so many and great, that a whole volume might be witten ther­of. [Page 31]For there are recounted aboue twenty blind persons to haue recea­ued their perfect sight, many dease & dūbe to haue recouered their hearing and speach, many crooked, lame, and deformed, to haue receaued perfect strēght and comlynes of body; many sick of the palsy, to haue receaued perfect cure; and infinit others to ha­ue bene deliuered from all kind of infirmity wherwith they haue bene oppressed.

Finally the late famous miracle wrought vpon the person of the late King of Spaine Philip the third, is te­stified by thousands of eye-witnesses, that were present at the same. The substance wherof in brief was this. In the yeare of our Lord 1619. the said King of famous memory going a Progresse into Portugall, to visit that kingdome, together with the Prince and his other Children, after he had bene receaued with most noble and magnificent Triumphs, as well in Lisbone as other places, in his retur­ne [Page 32]to Madrid, fell very dangerously sicke of a hoar pestilent feuer or Ta­berdillo, wherby he was in eminent danger of Death, and almost despai­red of, by his Phisitians. The court & nobility were strocken into feare at this suddaine chance, and this dange­rous infirmity of their King, was re­commended to the prayers and de­uotion af all the people, especially of Religious Orders: but he cōtinuing, so 2. or 3. dayes with out signe of a­mendment, desired to haue the holy Reliques of S. Isidore brought vnto him, & with all his force and strēgth of body and mind, humbly commen­ding himselfe vnto him and his me­rits, that therby it would please God, he might recouer his health: he pre­sently felt himselfe much better, the feuer relenting, and within a few daies after became perfectly well.

As soone as he had recouered, he began to thinke how he might ho­nour the Saint, by rendering him [Page 33]thankes for so singular a benefit, and presētly determined to procure, with all endeauour, his Canonizatiō, ther­by to haue him the more knowne & honoured throught the world: but the death of Pope Paulus V. as his owne also ensuing soone after, the bu­sines was differred; yet on his death­bed did he seriously commend the same, to Philip the fourth his Sonne, the now present King of Spaine, by whose intercession to the Sea Apo­stolicke, he was, with the greatest honour and solemnity, that perhaps hath euer bene made in that kind, canonized for a Saint, by Pope Gre­gory the XV. the 12. day of March in the yeare of our Lord 1622. in S. Peters Church at Rome, that there­by his memory might be famous to posterity.

His body being taken vp the se­cond time, and put into a costly Shrine 450. yeares after his death, was found wholy vncorrupt, sending forth a most pleasant and sweet [Page 34]smell, to the astonishment of all Spaine, and so remayneth euen vn­till this day.

His life is written elegantly, and at large in Spanish Verse, by Lopes de Vega Carpio, Secretary to the Mar­ques of Sarria, by F. Peter Ribade­neyra, D. Alfonsus Villegas in their Excrauagants and others. His feast is celebrated, by many, vpon the 12. day of march, on which he was ca­nonized.

THE LIFE OF THE HOLY Patriarch S. Ignarius of Loyola, Au­thour and Founder of the Society of Ie­sus. Taken out, of the most part, of the Authenticall Relation made in Consi­story before Pope Gregory the 15 by Car­dinal de Monte, vpon the 19. day of Ianuary 1622. a little before his Can­nization, and translated into English.

IGNATIVS Loyola was borne in that coast of Spai­ne which belongeth to the Mount Pyraeneus, in the towne of Aspeythia, within the Dioe­cese of Pamplona, the yeare of our Lord 1491. of Bertram Loyola and Mary Sanchez both noble Catholi­kes, and godly parents, who in like godlines brought vp their sonne: and in the first flowre of his youth, as one that was of an excellent to wardlines both in mind and body, sent him vn­to the Catholike King Ferdinand his [Page 36]Court: where after he had remayned a while amongst those young gallāts, he betooke himselfe to Antony Man­riques, Duke of Najara and Viceroy of Nauarre, liuing then in Pamplo­na, a fayre and principall Citty of that Kingdome, and there began to giue himselfe to the study and exer­cise of warlike affaires. And when the said Citty was beseiged by an army of Frenchmen, Ignatius, who with other souldiers had vndertaken to de­fend the Castle, (as he was formost in the Conflict) by meanes of a stone which a peece of Attillery strucke from off the wall, hauing his left leg­ge sore wounded, and his right grie­uously crusht & broken, fell downe halfe dead, and indured afterwardes at home a long and painfull cure, with such singular patience, that all the house did wonder therat.

But when by Gods helpe he had begun to be some what eased of his griefe, and had escaped all danger of death, seing that he was yet longer [Page 37]to keepe his bed, he desired to haue some prophane booke or other, such as he was wont to read, to passe the time withall; which being not to be found in the house, two other Spa­nish bookes were brought vnto him, wherof one conteyned the life of Christ our Lord, the other of his Saints. With the reading of these bookes he was so vehemently inflamed, that he determined frō thēceforth to change his life, to follow the steps of Christ and his Saints, and to goe to Hiecu­salem, that he might worship those holy places, increase Gods holy spirit in the faithfull, and conuert Infidells to imbrace his holy law and gospell.

Wherfore as soone as his woundes were healed, he (very much against his Brother Martin Garcia his will) forsaking his country, his parents, & all frayle and transitory things, as one that hereafter meant to become a fouldier of Christ Iesus, tooke his iourney to the Monastery of Mont­serat, & there hauing made a generall [Page 38]confession of his former life, & han­ged vp his sword and dagger in the Church of the same Monastery, put­ting on a longside coate of course cloath, girded about him with a cord, bare headed, with a staffe in his hand, all the night of the Vigill of the feast of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin, watching before our blessed Ladies Altar, sometimes standing, & sometimes vpon his knees, asking pardon for his sinnes past, he dedica­ted himselfe wholy to Gods holy ser­uice. From thēce he went to a towne neere by called Manresa, and tooke vp his lodging in the Hospitall of S. Lucy, where, in a certaine caue at the riuers side that runneth by those plaines, he began to bring forth wor­thy fruits of pēnance, leading a poore and austere life, amongst poore and abiect people, whom he daily serued euen in the basest employments of their necessities.

Hauing exercised himselfe in this place, a good while in this schole of [Page 39]pennance and other vertues, this No­ble Pilgrime came to Rome in the yeare of our Lord. 1523. from whence as sonne as he had obtayned the Apo­stolicall ben diction (which he re­ceiued from Pope Adrian the Sixt, & that euen vpon Easter day) he went first to Venice, and afterwards to Hierusalem. But when he had there visited those holy places, being afraid that he could not conueniently stay and imploy himselfe in the saluation of soules in Palestine, he returned into Spaine; where, to the intent that he might the better procure the spirituall good of his neighbours, not withstanding he was now thirty yeares old: first at Barcelona he stu­died Grammer, then heard Philoso­phy and Diuinity in the Vniuersity of Alcala, for the space of a yeare and halfe: and after this againe at Paris he renewed all the same studies, liuing all this while of almes, yet neuer lea­uing off, nor interrupting the workes of charity, humility and pennance, [Page 40]which he was accustomed before to doe.

At Paris he came acquainted with some others, whom he persuaded to the same course of life, and they all together made this vow, that when their studies were ended, all wordly things being despised, they should go to Hierusalem, and there giue them­selues wholy to the saluation of sou­les by preaching, teaching &c. But if either within the space of a yeare there should be no fit opportunity to faile, or that they should not be per­mitted to stay at Hierusalem, that thē as being absolued from the aforesaid vow, they should go to Rome, and present their sernice vnto the Pope for the spirituall helpe of their neigh­bours.

But whē with ouer much studying and watching, Ignatius had fallen into a grieuous disease of the stomacke, by the appointment of the Physi­tians, and his Companions aduise, he returned into his Countrey in the [Page 41]yeare of our Lord 1535. and there in an hospitall of S. Mary Magdalen in begging his victuals from doore to doore, and seruing of the poore, he very carefully bestowed the space of three monthes: when hauing recoue­red his health he went thence to Ve­nice, whither his companions also of set purpose were to come, and in the same Citty receiued the holy Order of Priesthood, and made a vow of Po­uerty and Chastity before the Lord Verall Archbishop of Rosan, who being then the Popes Legate, was af­terwardes created Cardinall.

Now the yeare which they had agreed vpon for their pilgrimage being expired, and their sayling into the holy Land hindered by the breach of peace betweene the Turkes & the Venetians; Ignatius with his Com­pany, came to Rome in the begin­ning of the yeare of our Lord 1537. where being entertayned by Quiri­nus Garzonius a Citizen of Rome, & lodged in a certaine farme of his, at [Page 42]the foot of mount Pincius, he offered his seruice vnto the Pope with all rea­dines possible, to be imployed in pro­curing the saluatiō of his neighbours. Meane while by instructing the ruder sort of people, in the principles of Christian Faith, and by other godly and landable liuing, he founded and got confirmed his Order of the So­ciety of Iesus, for the defence and in­crease of the Carholike faith, & good of soules. And albeit in the same So­ciety he ordayned three solemne Vowes, yet vnto those (which are common to other Religious) he ad­ded a fourth vow, wherby he promi­sed a peculiar and speciall Obedience to the Pope, in vndertaking of mis­sions euen vnto the Turkes, and Infi­dells themselues wheresoeuer, with­out taking any thing to beare their charges, and in teaching children the Christian Doctrine. This being done, he wrote the Constitutions of the same Society, which he afterwards being chosē Generall, gouerned with [Page 43]very great praise both for wisedome and vertue; And lastly after many la­bours and trauailes, hauing receiued of the Pope his Apostolicall benedi­ction with a plenary Indulgence of his sinnes, calling vpon the Name of Iesus, he piously reposed in our Lord at Rome the last day of Iuly in the yeare of our Lord 1556. being of the age of threescore and fiue yeares, and sixteene yeares after the Society was confirmed by the sea Apostolike, at what time the same was extended almost throughout the whole world. For he left established twelue Pro­uinces, to wit, that of Portugall, of Castile, of Aragon, of Andaluzia, of all Italy (which comprehendeth Lom­bardy & Toscan) of Naples, of Sicily, of Germany, of Franders, of France, of Brasile, and of the East Indies; and in these Prouinces there were at that time, about an hundred Colledges or Houses of the Society.

His body was buried first in a low and humble Tombe at the right band [Page 44]of the high Altar, in his owne little Church of our Blessed Lady at Rome, and afterward in the yeare 1587. it was translated solemnely to the new and sumptuous Church of the Casa Prosessa, which Cardinall Alexander Farnesius had newly erected, & there placed in a Vault at the Right hand of the high Altar, where it is yet reue­renced with concourse of people frō all parts of the world, as well for his admirable life and sanctity, as for the innumerable miracles that haue bene, and are daily wrought there at by his intercession, some wherof we shall relate, at the end of this narra­tion, after we haue briefly laid downe his vertues, which follow in this manner: and first of his Faith.

Such was the excellency of Faith, which the Holy Ghost by meanes of his perusing the a foresaid bookes before his Conuersion, began to plat in the hart of Ignatius, that reading the wonderfull things which God had wrought with his Saintes, and [Page 45]belieuing that he would deale in like māner with him, if he should follow their steps, he therfore without any more adoe leauing all, followed only our Sauiour Iesus Christ. This same Faith made him so meekely and pa­tiently endure so many labours, and ouercome so many difficulties, in bringing to passe whatsoeuer he had once vndertakē for the glory of God and saluation of soules. This confir­med him so strongly in his poore and laborious course of life, not only by perpetuall perseuerance, notwith­standing many great impediments; but also by a formall institution of the same, established with solemne vowes.

Finally hence arose that wonder­full care and diligence in procuring the conuersion of Heretikes, Schis­matikes, Moores, Iewes, & Insidells: in preaching the Ghospell to the In­dians, Barbarians, and other natiōs by meanes of S. Xauerius and other of his Society: and in alwayes teaching [Page 46]and holding the most sound and Ca­tholike Doctrine as a true scholler of the Angelicall Doctour S. Thomas, neuer giuing care to any new fangled opinions, especially about the sacred mysteries of our Faith, which he so firmely belieued, that he was wont to say. That although there were no Scriptures for his warrant, yet was he ready with all his hart to suffer death in defence of the same faith, for so much only as God had imparted and reuealed vnto him while he was at Manresa.

First out of this so well grounded root of Faith, sprung vp that his most singular Hope; wherof his true con­tempt of all worldly things, his auste­re pennance, his rare confidence so little in himselfe, and so much in Al­mighty God, his wonderfull courage in strong and hard enterprises for the glory of God, the delight and plea­sure he tooke in the paines, reproa­ches and persecutions which he suf­fered for Christ, and to be short, his [Page 47]most sweet and continuall medita­tion of death, are more then sufficient testimonies.

Secondly, his Charity towards his Neighbours was such, that besides his daily seruing of the poore and sicke in Hospitalls, and not only curinge their bodies, but with most profound humility euen licking their botches and sores, he also euery day went a begging frō doore to doore, bestow­ing the best part of the Almes he got, vpon the poore of the Hospitalls, and prisons of the Citty where he liued, contenting himselfe with the refuse, and worst part of all.

Extraordinary was the care he had to instruct children and ignorant peo­ple in Christian doctrine. And the zeale wherwith he was carried away in procuring the saluation of soules, could not be conteyned within the bounds of one Kingdome, but exten­ded it selfe euen vnto Hierusalem, whither after one pilgrimage, he vowed another, both for himselfe & [Page 48]the rest of his Society.

For his Neighbours sake, he com­posed the Booke of Spirituall Exerci­ses, which is one of the best that hath bene written in that kinde: for them he exceedingly furthered and increa­sed the Confraternity of the Blessed Sacrament in his owne Countrey. For them he was not a bashed at the age of thirty yeares, to go to schoole amongst litle boyes. To conclude, for them after he had ended his studies at Paris, together with a few more that had entred there into his Society, he went to Rome, where for them he offered all his indeauours and seruice to the Pope; for thē he instituted the Order it selfe of the Society, propaga­ting and multiplying the same with Missiōs, Colledges, Churches, Schoo­les and Vniuersities, of all kind of sciē ­ces, with other pious workes (besides in particular the German Colledge, the Hospitalls of the Orphans and Cathecumens, the monasteries of S. Martha and S. Katherine in Rome) [Page 49]throughout all the world, euery where by the exhortation & admini­stration of his subiects, teaching the people to frequent the Sacrament of Pennance, and holy Communion, Masse, Sermons, and other holy Ex­ercises. And what wonder in him, who euen in the beginning of his cō ­uersion after he had bene grieuously beaten, and almost brought to the point of death at Barcelona, for pro­curing the saluation of his neigh­bours, did not only not complaine therof, but gaue God thankes for it, forgiuing and (to fulfill our Lords commandement) praying for his persecutours. In so much that after he had recouered his health, he was not afraid to returne to his former wor­kes of Charity, and to hazard his very life for his brethren; notwithstanding all his friends dissuading him from it, to whom he alwayes gaue this ans­were: Quid mihi optabiliue quàm more pro Christe & salute proximi mei? What can I wish for, that would be more [Page 50]gratefull and welcome to me, then to die for Christ, and the saluation of my neighbour?

Thirdly if wee consider how Ig­natius did all that hath bene tou­ched aboue, meerly for the loue of God, how carefull he was euer from his first conuersion to keepe his hart pure and cleane from all touch of mortall sinne, either in word or deed; how strictly, and often euery day he examined his conscience, least he should haue any thing in it that might displease God, were it but the least veniall negligence in his daily meditation, how he had withdrawne all his affection from all things that were not good, and fixed his whole hart vpon God; how he daily vsed to meditate vpon heauenly things; eftsoones stirring vp himselfe to the loue of God, by a certaine Iaculatory prayer in his booke of Exercises which beginneth. Suscipe Domine vni­uersam libertatem meam, &c. How he leuelled all his thoughts, words, and [Page 51]deedes to the honour and glory of God, in so much as he had alwaies in his mouth (as a token of what was in his hart) this sentence. Admaiorem Dei gloriam. If wee (I say) consider all this, we shall, the lesse wonder how he should out of the feruour of this charity, be forced to say, That he had rather if he were to haue his choise, remaine aliue with vncertainty of his saluation, to the end he might serue God in the meane time, then die and goe straight to heauen: and moreouer he did persuade himselfe, if God Al­mighty should euer thrust him downe to hell, that it would be a greater torment for him, to heare those hor­rible blasphemies against the name of God, then to be tortured with the most cruell paynes that the damned suffer.

Whatsoeuer he tooke in hand, first he commended it to God Almighties prouidence and assistance; then he maturely consulted and examined what meanes he was to vse, and what [Page 52]impediments he was to auoyd which done, with great confidence and reso­lution, he achieued his intent & finall end, which was alwaies the glory of God.

The great desire he had to satisfie Gods diuine Iustice for his sinnes past, made him in Monserat, Man­resa and Barcelona, goe cloathed in sackcloath, and girded about the very bare skin with a chaine of iron. It made him oftentimes goe barefoot, & that he might eschew vaine glory, to cut out the soles of his shooes: It made him sleepe vpon the bare boards and grounde, afflicting and punishing his body with iron whippes and discipli­nes, fasting and other such like mor­tifications.

To these may be added the feruour of his Deuotion; the abundance of his teares; his daily prayer; his hea­ring or saying of Masse euery day; his frequenting of the Sacraments; his visiting of holy places; singular deuo­tion to our B. Lady; to the Angels, [Page 53]Saints, and holy Reliques. Finally, his perfect keeping and fulfilling of the vowes of Pouerty, Chastity and perpetuall Obedience, which he had made in the Society.

Moreouer, touching his vprightnes towards his neighbour, his words were alwaies sincere, plaine and de­uoid of all deceipt or flattery: his hart was pure and simple, euer taking all things in good part.

His inuincible courage, could not be quailed with the many and grie­uous tentations he had in the begin­ninge of his conuersion; nor with the manifold diseases he got in visiting of the sicke; No nor all the iniuries, re­proaches, nor difficulties he found (which were without number) were able so much as once to turne him backe, much lesse hinder him from attayning vnto his desired end.

He tooke great pleasure in seeing himselfe wronged, and disgraced, still requiting his enemies with speciall fauours and benefits.

All the time he was at Manresa & Barcelona, his fare was bread and water euery day, except Sundaye.

Once in a Chappel at Villadord, and another time in the Caue before mentioned, what with continuall prayer, what with abstinence, he was found so leane and weake, that he was scarce able to stand. But at Barcelona by reason of the same extraordinary mortification, he fell into so grieuous a sicknes, that he would hardly haue escaped death, if a certaine pious and charitable woman, had not taken care of him, which he not without some difficulty admitting, said: Sinite me pati haec leuia vt saluetur anima mea: let me suffer these trifles, that my soule may be saued.

Out of the wonderfull great care he had of Castity, both in himselfe & his subiects, proceeded that clause of his Constitutions, to wit, That those who were of his Society, should striue to imitate the purity of Angels, both in mind and body.

After he had once made a purpose to change his life, he could not indu­re to heare his brother talke of his Nobility, Riches, Warlike Prowesse, and the like, but as soone as he was well, he forsooke the world. And once comming neere home into his natiue soyle, to recouer his health, for feare of being honoured by his brother & other inhabitants, if they should haue notice of him, he left the company of one of his acquaintance, and passing through desert mountaines and by­wayes, made choice rather of a poore Hospitall, then of his Fathers Hall. Thus euery where as much as he could, still hiding his Nobility, he al­wayes shunned the speach and con­uersation of such as he thought would know him. But if it were his chaunce in any place to meere with any that did know him, or tooke ac­quaintance with him, he would be sure neuer to returne to that place any more.

This rare contempt he had, not [Page 56]only of the worlde, but euen of his owne person, is sufficiently seene be­fore in his poore and meane kind of liuing, and in taking such pleasure when he heard any thing spoken or done to his owne disgrace.

When he was chosen Generall of the Society of Iesus (which he him­selfe hauing instituted desired ther­fore it should be accounted and cal­led, The least of all Religious) he altoge­ther refused to vndertake the charge, till such time as his Ghostly Father commāded him to take it vpon him. And againe ten yeares after, perseue­ring still in the same Humility, he en­deauoured by all meanes possible to be put out of the office, alleadging that he himselfe was not fit to beare it.

Hauing taken the office vpō him, first he bestowed some dayes in ser­uing the Cooke in the kitchin, and af­terwards began to teach children the Christian Doctrine, according to his Constitutions, that he might seale [Page 57]with his owne example the Ordi­nances of Humility, which he was to propose vnto others.

He did what he could to conceale his owne vertues and heauenly vi­siōs; intermingling euer in his speach some words or other of humility, as Miserum me, miseram animam meam. Wo is me wretch, wo is my wretched soule. Nay and which is more, some­times he was wont to say, that If he were to aske a boone of Almighty God at the houre of his death, this he would be sure to request of him, that he would permit him to be bu­ried in a dunghil, because he esteemed himselfe as dunge. And to this many times he added, that he was much edified with the example and conuer­sation of all but himselfe; and in a cer­taine Epistle he wrote, that he neuer had conference or communication about spirituall matters with any mā were he neuer so bad, that he did not reape some profit by him.

Amongst the rest of the miracles [Page 58]of this great seruāt of God, we might well account this one and not the least, to wit, the wonderfull light and knowledge he had in spirituall things as by the restimony of Pope Iulius the third, in the beginning of his booke of Spirituall exercises, is suffi­ciently declared.

Miraculous was that brightnes which S. Philip Nerius, and Father Oliuer Mannareus saw shine in his face whiles he liued. And no lesse miraculous was the speedy cōcourse and flocking of the people vnto his body, as soone as he was dead, and the continuall veneration and visi­ting not only of his Sepulchre, but also of his Chamber, his Caue, and other places wherin he had done pennance.

But besides these, God Almighty by intercession of this Saint, both be­fore and after his happy death wrought many miracles, which are to be seene more at large in the Rela­tion out of which this summe is [Page 59]taken, and in other histories of his life. I will heere only rehearse, some few of them for our better instru­ction and further declaration of his sanctity.

And first his great charity & zeale in procuring the saluation of soules, was miraculously confirmed in that, when a certaine man whose name was Lissanus, for being cast in a suite of law, and hanged himselfe, and was by all mens iudgment stone dead; he by his prayers obtayned of God Al­mighty so much time for him to line againe, that might serue his turne to be sorry for his sinnes, and to con­fe [...]e them to a Priest, and receaue Absolution.

Secondly to increase our deuotion to holy Reliques, that may suffice which happened to Bartholomew Contesti, a Chirurgeon and Cittizen of Maiorca, who was so tormented with a continual headach, that for ve­hemency of the paine, he was diuerse times forced to fal dowen to the very [Page 60]ground. And besides this, he had so grieuous a disease in one of his eyes, that being vnable to behold the least glimpse of light, he was fayne to be shut vp in a darke chamber, eating no meat but what others put into his mouth. As many and sundry medici­nes were applied as could be deuised, but all in vaine, for his disease still waxed worse and worse. In so much that Bartholomew, out of the intolle­rable paine he felt, was not afraid to protest, if a certaine Chirurgeon, whose name was Pastor, were aliue, that he would cause him to placke out his eye by the very roote. But as he lay, now in this pittifull estate, hearing by good chaunce of the ma­nifold miracles that were euery where wrought by the intercession of S. Ig­natius, with great deuotion and hope of recouery by this meanes, he desired that they would bring him one of his subscriptions, or writings of his owne hand: which was no sooner brought vnto him, but he found himselfe well [Page 61]without all paine, either of head or eyes, rising out of his bed, and behol­ding the light of the sunne with great ease and pleasure. And that he might be the better assured that this so su­daine a cure was to be attributed to the diuine power, and to the inter­cession of this seruant of God S. Ig­natius, for two or three seuerall ti­mes, the Relique was no soner taken away out of his chamber, but his for­mer paine returned vnto him; and the same Relique was no sooner brought backe againe into the chamber, but his paine left him. So that Bartholo­mew was aduised to keepe the Reli­que alwayes about him, & thus with­in three or foure dayes, he came to be so perfectly well, as if he had neuer bene sicke.

In Rome a Lady called Drusilla Tursellina, being very much vexed with a vehement seuer, and with the head-ach, hauing vsed many reme­dies, and bene let blood in her armes, nostrills, and head, without profit, her [Page 62]sicknes rather increasing euery day; was presently healed by a relique of one of the Blessed Fathers bones, laid vpon her forehead.

Another woman named Olimpia Norina, had such a vehemēt paine in her eyes, that she came to loose her sight, & for the space of three moneths had such a cōtinuall ague, & paine in her head, that she could notrest. They brought her a subscription of the Blessed Fathers hand, at the time that her paine was at the greatest, laying it vpon her forehead, and eyes, & she began to see, and was ryd of her ague and paine.

In the same Citty in the yeare 1597. a noble mans child of seauen yeares old, called Hierome Gabriell, being sick of a pestilent seuer (called a Ta­berdillo) and of a plurisy, hauing also the wormes, so that there was little hope of his life, was healed with the same subscription of the Blessed Father.

In the yeare 1599. the Lady Ioane [Page 63]Vrsina, being but a child, daughter to Cornelia Vrsina Duchesse of Cesi, had so great a cough, that she could scarcely breath or suck. The Dutches her mother commēded her very ear­nestly and deuoutly to blessed Father Ignatius, and beseeched him to ob­taine the health of her daughter: wherevpon the child hauing bene a night and a halfe without rest, pre­sently fell a sleepe, and her cough cea­sed, & she began to sucke her Nurses breast. For which cause the Dutches commaunded a Tablet to be set on the Fathers graue, in remembrance of the fauour she had receiued.

In the same yeare 1599. Angella Ruggiera was troubled with an ex­traordinary noise in her head for al­most a yeare, and lost the hearing of her right eare; wherto applying a re­lique of the Blessed Father, and ma­king a vow to fast with bread and water the day of his departure, and to communicate the day following, recouered perfect health, and remay­ned [Page 64]free from that infirmity.

In the Citty of Naples, in the mo­neth of Iune of the yeare 1599, Don­na of Aragon, Princesse of Beltran, & Dutchesse of Terra-noua, had a great payne, and swelling in her right bre­ast: and finding no remedy, amongst many which were applied in the space of foure moneths, omitting, them all, as vnprofitable, and laying vpon her breast, with much deuotion, the pi­cture of the Blessed Father, she be­came well the same day: and com­ming to Rome the last Holy yeare of 1600. commaunded a tablet of siluer, with foure great waxe Tapers to be set vpon the Blessed Fathers tombe, on Easter day, in thanksgiuing.

In the Citty of Nola, the yeare 1599. in the moneth of Nouēber, a knight named Francis Blasius, being much vexed with a pestilent ague, and with a grieuous paine in his head and sto­mack, so that in the iudgement of the Phisitians he was in danger of his life, his mother Zenobia Tolphia ex­horted [Page 65]him to lay a relique of the bone of Blessed Father Ignatius to his head, and to commend himselfe vnto him, desiring his fauour. He did so, and remayned free frō all his paines, and his whole sicknes.

In the Citty of Lecha (which is in the Prouince of Apulia, in the King­dome of Naples) a child of three yeares old, sonne to the Barō of Bel­li-boni, fell from his Nurses armes vpon the ground, and did notably hurt his right knee, which grew eue­ry day worse, because the Nurse for feare concealed the fall, and it went so far, that it was necessary to open the childs knee oftener then once, & this helped not: wherfore cōming to cut it the third time, the Father fearing his Sonnes death (whome he did see consumed with the wound, and with the ague which followed thervpon) went to the Colledge of the Society, and there they gaue him a Relique of the Blessed Fathers bone; which he laid vpon the child, before they ope­ned [Page 66]his knee the third time, and whē the Surgeons came to doe it, they found him much better, and within a few dayes altogether well.

I will conclude with one more, which very much confirmeth the ve­neratiou of holy Images and pictures. In the yeare of our Lord 1603. in Vall dolid a principall Cirty of Spai­ne, one Ferdinand Pretel of Mendoza vpon the 29. day of September, had fallen into a single Tertian ague, which not many days after came dou­bling and doubling so long vpō him, till at last it was turned into a pestilēt feuer, which some call the blacke ague, the Spaniards, Taberdillo, and fot all the Phisicke he tooke in great abundance, it brought him at length to so desperate a case, that now quite and cleane beinge giuen ouer of the Phisitians, he made his confession, re­ceiued the Blessed Sacrament, and de­sired that in due time he might haue the Sacramēt of Extreme Vnctiō. All which things done the third day of [Page 67]December holding in his hands an Image of S. Ignatius which he had hanging about his necke, he called vpon him with a lowd voice, and with all his heart commended himselfe vnto him, that he might obtaine his health; when vpon the sodaine he began to be well, and was deliuered from his disease, hauing his strength restored him againe in such sort, that the thirteenth day of the same mo­neth, he made nine daies iourney frō Valladolid to Valentia, through cold and craggy mountaines in the very hart of winter.

These and multitudes of other mi­racles being daily seene and wrought throughout Europe, together with the Intercession of many Christian Kings and Princes to the sea Aposto­like for further declaration of his Sanctity to the world, he was by Pope Paul V. beatified in the yeare of Christ 1613. and his feast kept so­lemne with great deuotion and con­course of people to the Colledges of [Page 68]the Society throughout Christendo­me. And Pope Gregory the XV. being assumpted to the chaire of S. Peter, being moued with the foresaid mira­cles & many new ones daily wrought, being also thervnto incited at the re­quest of Ferdinand the Emperour, of Philip the fourth King of Spaine, Lewis the XIII. King of France, Si­gismond King of Polomia, the Arch­dukes of Austria, Dukes of Bauaria, Sauoy, Florence, Parma, Mantua, and others, he was Canonized for a Saint in S. Peters Church at Rome vpon the 12. day of March, in the yeare of our Lord God 1622.

THE LIFE OF S. FRANCIS Xauier, of the Society of Iesus, and A­postle of the Indies: taken also out of the authenticall Relation made in Consistory by Cardinall de Monte the 19. of Ianua­ry 1622. before Pope Gregory the XV. vpon the Acts of his Canonization, &c.

FRANCIS Xauier was borne in that part of Na­uarre which belongeth vn­to Spaine, in the yeare of our Lord 1497. in the Castle of Xa­uier, of noble Parents, to wit, Iohn Iasse President of the Kings Counsell of the same Prouince, and Mary Az­pilcueta, Lords of the towne of Xa­uier and other places ther about, who hauing piously brought him vp, and diligently instructed him in the prin­ciples of Christian Doctrine, whē he was growne to ripenes of yeares, sent him to Paris, that he might furnish [Page 70]himselfe with learning in that fa­mous Vniuersity. And afterwards when his father was about to send for him home, Mary Magdalen Fran­cis his sister, who then with great fame of sanctity was Abbesse of the Monastery of the Reformed Nunns at Gandia, being by diuine reuelatiō informed of her Fathers present pur­pose, and the future glory of her bro­ther, wrote vnto her said Father, that he should maintayne Francis still at Paris in his studies by all meanes pos­sible, yea though he should be forced to spend all his reuenewes vpon him to that end: For that God Almighty had chosen him to be an Apostle of the new found world.

Francis therfore at Paris comming to be acquainted with Ignatius Loyo­la (who was afterwards founder of the Society of Iesus) was with many prayers, and teares by the same Igna­tius, obtayned of our Lord to be his companion in procuring the glory of God. And being instructed by him in [Page 71]the spirituall Exercises, profited so well therby, that as one set on fire with the loue of Euangellicall perfe­ction, and setting naught by all the honours and riches of the world, he couragiously vndertooke and con­stantly followed, vnder the bauner of the same Ignatius, an austere and contemptible kinde of life, going a begging to get his victualls, giuing himselfe to continuall prayer & me­ditation of heauenly things, and affli­cting his body with fasting and other workes of pennance.

Departing from Paris he came in­to Italy, and whilst he expected op­portunity to go with his companiōs into the Holy land, that they might labour there in conuerting the Tur­kes, as they had made a vow to do, he in Venice, Bononia, and other Cit­ties, with rare example of sanctity & feruour of spirit, by preaching and doing other workes of charity, tooke wonderfull great paines in procuring the saluatiō of his neighbours: Espe­cially [Page 72]at Venice, where after he was made Priest, with great example of humility and charity he serued the sicke in the Hospitall, being more ready and willing to assist and helpe those, whose very sight by reason of their vncurable diseases and loath­some wounds, others were not able to abide, and that he might get a more glorious victory of himselfe, he of tentimes drunke of the same water wherwith their sores had bene was­hed.

When there was no more hope of sayling that yeare, he and his compa­niōs as they had agreed before, came to Rome, that they might offer thē ­selues to the Pope, to be sent whither he would for the spirituall good of their neighbours. And while they were leading there an austere life, very poore in whorldly commodi­ties, but most rich in spirituall exer­cises and labours, taken for the glory of God, hauing newly laid the first foundations of the Society of Iesus, [Page 73]Iohn, King of Portugall, being very earnestly bent to the conuersion of the East Indies, made humble suit vnto Pope Paul the third, that he would send him some of Ignatius his companions who for learning and holines of life were by all mēs report iudged fit for that voyage, that they might preach the Ghospel in those most large and vast Prouinces.

For this exploit, Ignatius by the Popes cōmission appointed Francis; who hauing receiued of the Pope the dignity and authority of Legate of the Sea Apostolike, as one now cho­sen by God for an Apostle according to his sisters Prophecy, tooke in hand his iourney without delay. And the signes and tokens of his Sanctity and Apostolicall feruour while he staid in Portugall were such, that by the generall voice of all, he was called the Apostle which name not only while he liued, but after he was dead also he euer kept still. In so much that for his sake throughout all Eu­rope, [Page 74]Africke, Asia, and the new found world, as far as the Portugalls dominions reach, all that are of the Society of Iesus, are called Apostles.

Out of Portugall he tooke ship for the East Indies, but could not be per­swaded to take any thing to beare his charges, except only an old patcht cloake; and so begged his victuals in the ship, slept in the open ayre a­boue the hatches, hauing a cable rope for his bed. He was alwayes ready to helpe the sicke, not only begging of those who had meate for such as wanted, but with his owne hands also dressing and parting it amongst them, thinking no scorne euen to wash their cloathes, or do any other seruice were it neuer so base, for them, in whose persons this holy and prudent seruant of Christ, ack­nowledged and reuerenced Christ himselfe.

Hauing spent all day in praying & taking paines, he vncessantly wat­ched all night in comforting the af­flicted, [Page 75]and administring the Sacra­ments to such as were in danger of death. Whervpon some were wont to say, that the only thinge Francis tooke pleasure in, next vnto prayer, was seruing of the sicke. And this was euer his fashion and manner of liuing, not only in this, but also in all other voyages he made by sea, where in he spent a great part of his life. Neither did this his charity towards poore and sicke persons shine only vpon the sea, but also vpō land while he abode in Citties, the beames of the same charity neuer lost one iot of their brightnes. Nay rather being now made all with all, that he might gaine and purchase the soules of all for God Almighty, to those that ei­ther by reason of wealth or health, had no need of this kind of seruice, he was neuer wanting in other ser­uioe, of no lesse importance for them when occasion was offered: neuer sparing of labour which he was to bestow in furthering the saluation of [Page 76]his Neighbours.

When he arriued at the Indies af­ter a long yeares sea-faring he would graunt no time of rest to his weather beaten body; but presently began to fling about the fire which he came to cast into those Prouinces; going vp and downe the Citty, and calling to­gether with a litle bell into some Church or other, the children and people, there teaching them the Christian Doctrine, with such effi­eacy of spirit, that it pierced euen to the bottome of their hearts, like vnto the Doctrine of the Apostles. He per­swaded them all to sing the prayers he taught them vp and downe the streetes, and to teach their friends & acquaintance the same at home. Which custome by him brought into the Indies, to the great glory of God, remayneth and is obserued there euen vntill this day.

Those that were come to yeares of discretion, by all gentle meanes possible, he inuited to confession & [Page 77]pennance, and neuer ceased with an vndaunted courage, and many times with euident danger of his life, ven­turing into strange and vncouth Pro­ninces, & that often times barefoote, with torne and beggailie apparell, to call heathens to the true liberty of the sounes of God. In which en­terprize Almighty God did specially assist the indeauours of his seruant, confirming euery where what he preached with miracles, that were most notorious, and like to those which the Apostles wrought, and in­wardly mouing the hearts of those that heard him, in such sort, that he conuerted and baptized: many tho L­sandes, and drew many out of the puddle of sinne, not without many and troublesome iourneyes both by sea and land. Many are the King­domes, Prouinces and Ilāds through which the Legate of Heauen and of the Roman Sea went sowing the word of God. And at lēgth as he was seeking entrance for the Ghospell [Page 78]into the great Kingdome of China, this faithfull seruant, quite bruised & broken with the intollerable paines, which beyond all humane force he had so long indured for the glory of God, and altogether worne out and consumed with the heauenly & bur­ning desire he had to see Christ his Sauiour, being now at last, out of a desert Ile named Sancianum, called home vnto his country of Heauen, & to the marriage of the Lābe of God, entred into the ioy which our Lord had prepared for him, the second day of Decēber, in the yeare of our Lord 1552.

The vertues of this holy Apostle are very many and most Heroicall, some wherof I shall heere recount. The daily profession he made of his faith in receiuing of the Sacraments, himselfe with wonderfull great deuo­tion, and with no lesse paines mini­string the same to others; his heroi­call workes; his great and dangerous pilgrimages to preach the same faith [Page 79]to Barbarous and Sauage people, and that alone without any humane helpe at all, expressing and setting foorth so liuely in himselfe, the purity and sanctity of the Euāgelicall Doctrine; finally the abundance of the fruit which he hath sent out of those for­raine countreies, into the granaries of the Catholike Church, to wit, so many millions of Christians, amōgst whom so many glorious martyrs haue watered and fertilized the Pri­mitiue Church of those Countre with their blood, and so many Con­fessours in the very middle of most cruel persecutions haue defended the faith of Christ, are pregnant proofes of the excellency of that Euangeli­call seed of Faith, which he carried with him.

Fiue things he had in him which cannot possibly consist without a most firme and stedfast Hope. First, a cōtempt of all temporall things, most manifestly seene in his despising of all worldly honours, dignities and ri­ches [Page 80]which the world in all abondāce did assure him of, and imbracing an humble kind of life in religious purity, vnder the yoke of obedience, and that in the very flowre of his youth. Secondly, his voluntary suffe­rance of excessiue trouble, labours & miseries, to the which by how much more grieuous they were, so much more willingly did he expose himselfe, as it most plainly appeareth in the whole discourse of his life. Thirdly, an vndaunted courage in attempting hard enterprises, putting his very life so oftē in danger amōgst strange and barbarous people. As for example when alone he encountred a whole army of Badagars, which afterward I will rehearse amongst o­ther miracles. Fourthly a wonderfull great security in dangers, in so much that in the middest of cares he was without care, and without feare in the middest of feares, ship wrackes, enemies, and many other miseries, hanging many times ouer his very [Page 81]head. Lastly an incredible ioy in ad­uersity, which may be euidently pro­ued by his continuall cheerfulnes of mind and readines of will, wherby glorying with the Apostle in the hope of the sonnes of God, he suffered so many labours, and troubles, so many perills and aduersities, liuing iustly & holily in this world, and expecting the blessed hope and comming of Almighty God.

For the loue of God, he most ex­actly and perfectly kept all his com­maundements, daily meditating vpō his sacred Law with a pure consciēce, and great horrour of neuer so little transgressing, or doing any thing a­gainst the same him selfe, and neuer without great care that others should likewise obserue the same; wherin, as also in keeping his vowes of volunta­ry Pouerty, Chastity and Obediēce, he so excelled, that he did not only thereby stop the aduersaries mouthes, but by the mouthes and tongues of all, not only of Christians, but euē [Page 82]of Idolaters themselues, he was com­monly called by no other name but Saint.

For the same loue, had he so fami­liar and often conference euery day with God, wherby he was so set on fire, that many times with his face all inflamed, & his eyes fastened vp­on heauen, he was miraculously ele­uated, and raised vp from the ground: sundry times as one not able to con­taine the abundance of his heauenly consolations, he would cry out, Satis est Domine, satis est: It is inough O Lord, it is inough. He had Iesus in heart ad mouth, both sleepinge and waking. And so in sleepe would he often call vpon him, Mi Iesu, dulcis Iesu and euen in the middle of whole multitudes of people, he would burst foorth into Faculatory prayers, which greatly moued those that heard him, to the loue of God.

Moreouer this same Charity was that, which cast away all feares of so many ship wrackes and dangers, in [Page 83]trauayling alone through strange and desert countries, & dealing with the harsh, and sauage humours and conditions of those barbarous and rude Infidells. Finally his admirable Charity doth so shine in the contēpt he had, not only of all worldly things but euen of death it selfe, that he might truly say with S. Paul: Quis nos seperabit à Charitate Christi? tribulatio? an angustia? an fames? an nuditas? an periculū &c. in his omnibus superamus propter eum qui diligit nos. Who shall separate vs from the loue of Christ? shall tribu­lation? shall anguish? shall hunger? shall nakednes? danger &c. in all these we get the vpper hand, for his sake that loueth vs.

Of his Charity towards his neigh­bour, he gaue sufficient testimony in all Hospitalls where he came, seruing of the sicke, dressing theire meat with his owne hands, watching many times all night with thē, assicting thē at the houre of their death, washing their dead bodies and burying them, [Page 84]were they neuer so loath some & full of sores. He was wont to part; not only all that he had himselfe, but all that he could beg also from doore to doore of others, amongst the poore, with such feeling of loue, that he was not only called com­monlv, the Father of the poore, but ma­ny also would afirme, that Prayer and Poore men, were his only ioy & de­light.

He tooke very great compassion vpon prisoners, whome he often visi­ted, and comforted both with corpo­rall and spirituall sood, pleading for them, and making suite for their de­liuéry, as far as he could proceed with any shew of reason: and thus without eating any thing he would spend whole dayes, and feele no hunger, which he could not haue done without another speciall meate which was to do the will of Christ, in workes of Charity towards his neighbour.

He was daily teaching Children [Page 85]the principles of Christian Doctrine, & explicating the same more at large to such as were of more capacity; he was alwaies calling sinners to repen­tance, and driuing away the darknes of errour and infidelity, with the light of the holy Ghospell. To conclude, in all things whatsoeuer he did or tooke in hand, he sought nothing else but the saluation of soules, which he so tenderly loued, that he was ready to shed his blood for them, as is most apparent by the hard and dangerous enterprises he vndertooke for their sakes.

No time nor place, were they ne­uer so dangerous, no difficulties nor employments were they of neuer so great importance, could defraud him of his prayer. For whatsoeuer any ex­traordinary worke of Charity tooke away from his ordinary houres of meditatiō in the day times, he would be sure to make that nights rest pay for it, in so much that many times, following the exāple of our Sauiour, [Page 86]after whole dayes spent in grear toyle and trouble, from midnight vntill morning, pernoctabat in oratione Dei, he watched in meditation of heauenly things: thus ordinarily in some gardē if the night were cleare and the fir­mament all adorned, with glittering stars, by meanes of so beautifull creatures, he would stand wholy ra­uished with the beauty of his Crea­tour.

The flashing flames and brightnes which haue bene seene in his face while he prayed, did not only euidēt­ly shew the efficacy of that fier of de­uotion within his owne brest, but en­kindled also a new fire of deuotion & loue of God in the hearts of them that faw it. Now what tongue of mortall man is able to expresse the sweetnes and iubily of heart which in prayer, his mortall heart being vnable to beare, he was often heard to say: Non plus Domine, satis est No more, o Lord, it is inough. And once in Masse he was so raptin extasy, that he could [Page 87]not feele him that serued him now and then to pull him by his vestmēt, nor for the space of an houre returne vnto his senses.

Notwithstanding all this, he estee­med himselfe the greatest sinner in the world, & inferiour vnto all, there was nothing so base, that he thought not good inough for himselfe; no ho­nour so small, that he deemed him­selfe worthy of, so that he desired to haue commaūd ouer none, but to be subiect vnder all, and therfore did he reuerence all as if they had bene his Superiours.

All ambition he troad vnder foote, blushing no lesse when he was pray­sed, then others are wont to do when they are dispraysed; and whensoeuer he did miracles, or any thing else that might redound to his prayse or com­mendation, he did what he could to put it off, by attributing what was done to the merits and intercession of his companions, or other people then present.

He kept the great authority which the Pope had giuen him so close, that for the space of ten yeares, none but only the Bishop of Goa knew that he was the Popes Legate; neither did he euer vse the same but only once, and that not without the aduise of the said Bishop, when he had no other meanes at all left to maintayne the glory of God.

In shippes and hospitalls he al­wayes made choice (as we haue seene before) of the basest offices. He al­wayes bore great respect and reue­rence, to Bishoppes, Priests, and all other Superiours: in so much that he neuer wrote letter to S. Ignatius his Generall, but vpon his knees.

Out of this Humility did he choose rather a beggers weede, then a noble­mans robe, finding more content in the grosse fare he had by begging of others, thē in the dainty dishes which he might haue had of his owne; and so he euer refused the rich apparell that euery where was offered him; [Page 89]But whatsoeuer dainty dish he got by begging or otherwayes, he parted it amongst the poore.

In his chamber he had nothing but a few necessary bookes, & a bed, with a course couerler, and two hard bolsters, more fit to driue a way, then any way to procure sleepe.

In all his many and long pilgrima­ges a staffe alwayes was his horse, and all his prouision depended vpon the liberality of the countrey which he trauayled along. But if he were to goe through any long desert, where no mā liued, he would be sure to pro­uide the poorest victualls he could, and so in all that long and desolate iourney which he made to Mexico, he eat nothing else but dried Rice. As for his apparell it was such as made the boyes laugh at him as he trauay­led along the streetes. Finally as he would eat nothing but what he beg­ged, so would he take vp no lodging but in publike Hospitalls with beg­gers.

Besides all that hath bene said, he would neuer drinke wine, nor eat flesh, or bread made of wheat; fasting many times without eating any thing at all for two, or three, or fowre dayes together, and sometimes from Passiō sunday to Easter Eue. He did very of­ten chastise his body by sharp disci­plines platted with wire, till he had fercht out great store of blood. Once in the beginning of his conuersion he went so long with his armes and thighes strait bound, that the cordes hauing buried themselues within his flesh, the Phisitians and Chirurgions iudged him to be vncurable, and that he could neuer haue escaped death, if the ropes had not bene miraculously broken. He was contented with two or three houres sleepe, imploying all the rest of the night in praying, and visiting of the sicke.

Thus he ouercame the world in wholy vanquishing of himselfe and all his sensuall appetites, with such weapons as you haue seene, and that [Page 91]which stout stomackes would searce abide to heare of, I meane his drinking of the water wherwith he had washed sick mens sores and bot­ches.

From the yeare of our Lord 1541. when he sailed into the Indies, vnto the yeare 1552. when he died, he liued in conunuall trauayles amongst strange and barbarous people, often enduring intolerable heat, cold, na­kednes, hunger and thirst for long time together, going many dayes iourneis amongst thorues and briars, almost euery where entertayned with scoffes and reproches, nay and in some places, with stripes and stones, for which with a merry and cheer­full heart he gaue thankes to God, humbly asking pardon for his perse­cutours.

As soone as he came into any of those strange countries, which were many and diuers where he preached the Ghospell, he spoke the language of the same Nation, were it neuer so [Page 92]different from the rest, as elegantly and readily as if he had bene borne and brought vp in the same coun­trey, and diuers times it happened, that men of diuers nations heard e­uery one their owne tongue in one Sermon. Worthy therfore, and thrice worthy of that most renowned title of Apostle, which the people both of Spaine and India do giue as due vnto him, seeing that Christ himselfe see­med to confirme the same, not only by the prophecy of Xauerius his owne sister, but by that speciall gift also which his Apostles had to preach his holy Ghospell.

Amongst many examples of this rare gift which may be seene in the Relation aboue written, since the breuity of this summe will not admit all, I haue made choice of one no lesse pleasant then profitable.

It happened that Xauerius vpon a time comming to Peter Vellius a wealthy man then liuing in a Citty called Machai, as he was playing at [Page 93]Chesse in one of his neighbours houses, asked an almes of him for some speciall worke of charity. Vel­lius at the first word gaue him his key and bad him go & take as much as he would Xauerius went & tooke three hundred Crownes, & brought the key back againe to Vellius, who as soone as he canoe home, opening the chest foūd all his mony as he had left it, and wondering at the same, the next time he met Xauerius, asked him how much money he had takē. Xauerius answered, that he had takē three hundred Crownes. To which Vellius replied, that he found all his money entire as he left it; and more­ouer he added that he deliuered him his key, to the intent he might haue takē the one halfe of the thirty thou­sand crownes that were in the chest. Which Xauerius hearing, I therfore (said he) in the name of God do giue my word vnto thee Vellius, that thou shalt neuer want, but God shall alwayes send thee whatsoeuer thou [Page 94]shalt haue need of, & all men shalbe liberall and bountifull towards thee; nay and which is more, the last day of thy life shalbe reuealed vnto thee. And so indeed all fell out iust as Xa­uerius had foretold. For albeit Vel­lius afterwardes had many great mis­fortunes which might haue brought him to extreme pouerty, yet all men dealt still so liberally with him, that he neuer wanted any thing neither for himselfe, nor for his family as lōg as he liued.

To conclude, at length when ma­ny yeares were past Vellius, being by reuelation forewarned of his death, after he had giuen a great deale of his wealth vnto the poore, and pro­uided a Masse to be song for his soule, bidding his friends farewell, he told them all the prophesy of Xauerius & the euent therof. His friends thought that the old man began to dote. But he hauing heard almost all the Masse solemnely sung for the dead, made no more a doe, but went & laid him­selfe [Page 95]along vpon his beere, and coue­red all ouer with a veyle, there waited for death. When Masse was done, and the Priest had said, Requiescant in pace, his seruants ran vnto him to take the veyle off him, supposing that he was yet aliue; but he had already yeelded vp the Ghost, and rendred his soule into the hands of his Crea­tour.

As the Badagars (a furious genera­tion of people) were comming in great hast ouer the toppes of moun­taines, with an huge army to destroy those Christians which Xauerius had baptized in the Kingdome of Tra­uancor, and about the Promontory of Comorinum, Xauerius all alone armed with the buckler of an muin­cible confidence in Almighty God, went to meete them, and comming vnto them began to rebuke thē very seuerely, when vpon a sodayne the whole army stood still and was not able to goe forwards any further. In so much that all their Captaines cal­ling [Page 96]vpon them, and exhorting them to march on, nothing preuayled with them, for they plainly answered, that they could no longer abide the heat that sparkled out of the eyes, and face of a certaine great man of a terrible Maiesty I in blacke that stood ouer against them with Xauerius. Which the Captaines themselues soone af­ter, by their owne experience fin­ding o be true, made a retrait to be soūded, and so all the army returned, and Xauerius hauing wō [...]e the feild, deliueted from all danger his louing children which he had brought forth in Christ.

Another time as he was trauailing on the Mountaines of Comorinum, there came vnto him a poore Beggar so full of fores and vlcers, that no mā was scarce able to behould the loath somnes thereof. Xauerius with great charity and humility, washed his so­res, and to get greater victory ouer himselfe, drunke vp the water wher­with he had washed them: And then [Page 97]kneeling downe vpon the ground, he feruently prayed vnto God for the health of the poore man, who was presently deliuered and freed wholy from all his infirmities.

Againe, at another time also, as Xauerius sayled from Ambionum (a Citty in the Ilands of Moluca) vnto the Iland of Baranula, there arose vpon the suddaine a cruell Tempest; for the deasing wherof, he tooke frō his neck a little Crucifixe about a fingars length, and held it in his hand in the water for a good space, praying vnto our Lord for the ceasing of the tempest. The ship beinge tossed to and fro with the waues, by chance he let it fall from him into the sea, for which he was very pensiue, & shew­ed great signes of sorrow. The day following, they all ariued safe at the for said Iland whither they were to sayle, where Xauerius going a land, with his Companion a long the sea shore towards the towne of Tama­lum, behould, a great sea-Crabbe [Page 98]leapt from out the sea to land, carring the said Crucifix vpright and on high betweene her Finnes, and made hast to Xauerius; who seing the wonder, fell downe on his knees, and reue­rently tooke the Crucifix from her, and then prosently without more adoe the fish returned into the sea. Xauerius hauing receaued the Cru­cifix, kissed the same deuoutly and with his armes a crosse for halfe an houre, lay prostrate vpon the ground in prayer with his Companiō, giuing God thanks for so wonderfull a mi­racle.

Many more and strange were the miracles which God wrought by Xauerius his intercession in his life time; as when with the signe of the crosse, he turned the salt water of the sea into sweet, when he cured the blinde, raised three bodies frō death to life, wherof one had laine a whole day buried in his graue, and the like, as may be seene at large in the said Relation.

All which together with his excel­lent vertues aboue touched, did so fill the most wide & large Prouinces both of East and West, with the great fame of his admirable sanctity, that euen while he was yet aliue he was called by no other name but Saint, both by Christians and Infidells, all euer calling vpō him, though he were absent, in all their dangers and affli­ctions.

As soone as he was dead, his body was put into a coffin full of pure lime, and so buried vnder ground, that the flesh being consumed, his bones might the sooner be carried into the Indies; But foure monethes after, they found both his cloathes and his body as fresh and free frō all corruption, as if they had bene then newly put into the coffin, and yielding more ouer a most sweet and com­fortable smell vnto all that were present.

Wherfore putting it againe into the same Coffin with fresh lime they [Page 100]brought it vnto Malaca, at the very first entrance whereof into the Citty, a great plague which Xauerius had foretold, and had long afflicted the same, wholy ceased; and there like­wise finding it yet entire and sweet, they made a new coffin, and by thrusting in the body (for they made it too little) bloud issued out of his shoulders, and so they buried him only with earth in a Church of our B. Ladie; where also nine monethes after his death being found as be­fore, and with the veyle that couered his face all imbrued in fresh bloud, they made him a rich and sumptuous Coffin, wherin being carried into the Indies he was solemnely receiued in the Citty of Goa, with great Pōpe both of the Viceroy him selfe, and of all the Clergy & people, who flocked thither from all parts to see and reue­rence his sacred body, which after many [...]ialls found still to remayne vncorrupted, and that without balme or an yother pretious ointments, was [Page 101]placed at last in a sepulcher made of purpose, at the right side of the high altar in the church of the Society in the same Citty.

Vnto which as also vnto other Churches in which his Images are set vp to be piously reuerenced, all as well heathens as Christians doe make great pilgrimages, obtayning ther­fore of God no small fauours by his intercession. For by this meanes the blind recouer sight, the leprosy and other diseases are cured, the dead raised to life, and many other such like wonders wrought. Nay which is more, and very wonderfull, there was a woman called Lucy de Vil­lanzan, who being an hundred and twenty yeares of age, and had bene baptized by Xauerius, after his death got a Meddall made at Coccinum, wheron was engrauen his picture: & for the great deuotion she had to­wards the said Blessed Father, for twelue yeares together she vsed to touch sicke and diseased people ther­with, [Page 102]with, as also diuers kinds of vlcers, cankers, and other sores, washing thē in the water wherin she did put the said meddall, & with great reuerence and humility making the signe of the Crosse vpon them, and saying. In the name of Iesus, and of Father Francis Xaue­rius, be thy health restored to thee &c. they were presently cured; and many other meruailous things were done by the vertue of the said meddall, & sincere faith and deuotion of that Christian woman.

So great is the respect which the very Infidells themselues beare to Xauerius, that although they haue destroyed a dozen Churches within the Coast of Trauancor, neere to the Promōtary of Comorinum, yet they would neuer touch, or once meddle with the Church of Cottara, stāding amongst the rest, which for hauing in it the Image of Xauerius, they great­ly honour, calling it the Church of the great Father. And so amongst other wonderfull workes of God in [Page 103]confirmation of the Christian Faith and sanctity of Xauerius, the very lampes that hang before his Image, hauing nothing else but holy water in them, haue bene seene to burne for many houres together, as if there had bene oyle, and that with great admi­ration and wonder of many Turkes and Infidells, wherof some, especially such as the Christians did now and then inuite to see the miracle, to the intent that they might make a full triall of the truth, diuers times chan­ged the water, and put new matches or weekes in the said lampes, which neuerthelesse did burne as before, & sometimes euen take fire and kindle of themselues, Mirabilis Deus, in sanctis suis! O how wonderfull is God in his Saints.

THE LIFE OF S. PHILIP Nerius of Florēce, Founder of the Cōgre­gation of The Oratory; wittten in Latin, by Antony Gallonius, Priest of the same Congregation; and translated into En­glish.

SAINT Philip Nerius was borne in Florence, a fa­mous and principall Citty of Italy, the 23. of Iuly in the yeare of our Lord 1515. Whose pa­rents were Francis Nerius & Lucretia Soldi, Cittizens of Florence. When he was but fiue yeares old, he was so obedient vnto his father and mother, that whatsoeuer they commaunded him to doe, or not to doe, he most di­ligently and carefully obserued.

It happened that on a time a seruāt of his Fathers, brought frō his Farme which he had in the Countrey, an Asse loaden with apples, which being vnloaden, Philip, being now about 8. [Page 105]yeares old, got vpon the Asse, who by misfortune was cast from his back headlong into a Cellar, which thing beinge knowne, his parents present­ly ran with sorrowfull harts to take vp their sonne, without hope to find him aliue; but when they came to the Cellar, they found him safe and soūd, to their great astonishment. About this Age he was set to schoole, who not only profited in learning, but in vertue also, farre aboue his fel­lowes. And seing he was as it were chosen by the holy Ghost to be a preacher of Gods word, he did much delight in visiting and frequenting of churches, and hearing of sermons, greatly reuerencing the Priests, and Preachers of the holy Church.

Whē he was sixteene yeares of age and somewhat more, his Father sent him into Campania to his Vncle Ro­mulus, liuing there in the towne of S. Germans, at the foote of Mount Cassine, who was a very wellthy mā, and had no children, and who had [Page 106]sent for Philip his nephew vnto Flo­rence, to the end to make him his Heyre. But after he had stayed there a few dayes, fearing to be entangled with the world, he left his vncle, and all other friends, and came to Rome in the yeare 1533.

When he was come to the Citty, he went vnto the house of one Ga­leot, who was a Cittizen of Florēce, with whome he liued diuers yeares, in great sanctity, leading an austere life, contenting himselfe with bread and water once a day, and oftentimes he passed three whole dayes, without eating any thing at all, delighting himselfe only with meditation of heauenly things, in the very youth & flowre of his age, wherein he spent whole dayes and nightes. And that he might be the better able to helpe others afterward in spirituall matters he frequēted the schooles, and heard Philosophy, profiting so well therein, that he became equall to any of his fellowes, still retayning the innocēcy [Page 107]of his childhood, euen in that age of his, and amongst so many dissolute students, as then he must needs be conuersant withall.

When he had now ended his Phi­losophy, and also a good part of his Diuinity, he began to bid adue vnto the world, & thought seriously how he might best imploy himselfe, in the honour of God and seruice of his neighbours. Wherfore he betooke himselfe, vnto the Hospitalls, where he comforted the ficke, serued them with his owne handes, assisted them in any thing he could, teaching and instructing thē how to make a good Confession, and to die happily if it should please God to call them. He had alwayes a speciall care, neuer to come acquainted or be familiar with wicked persōs. He exhorted as many as he saw had good partes, to enter into Religion, and in this point he happily preuailed with a great nūber, who by his persuasion daily renoun­ced the world and became Riligious: [Page 108]In so much that S. Ignatius of Loyo­la, who then liued in Rome, and had newly instituted the Socity of Iesus, and with whomthis holy man was greatly acquainted and conuersant, was wont to call him the Bell, for that by his good sound and pious voyce, he called so many to holy Re­ligion. And thus labouring on all sides to gaine soules to God, he be­came a most liuely example of Piety and Deuotion, vnto all, euen whiles he was yet a lay man.

In the yeare of Christ 1551. He tooke vpon him holy Orders, & was made Priest by commandement of his Ghostly Father. In saying of his Masse he was so rapt oftentimes, that he was seene to remayne in the ayre 2 foote aboue the ground, and was smetimes so takē in extasy, through the extreme loue and admitation of that Diuine mistery, that he knewe not where he was. His hart was also so inflamed with the lolue of the Holy Ghost, that often times in the very [Page 109]depth of winter, and in the greatest cold weather, he was forced to apply outwardly some cooling and refrige­ratiue thinge vnto his brest.

It happened on a time, that by his reading certaine Epistles of the In­dies, In which he tooke great delight, he was so mooued with compassion towards the Infidels of those vast and remote Coūtreyes, for that they were not members of Gods Church; that he resolued to goe thither in person, with twenty others of his disciples, to preach and teach the faith of Christ vnto them, for their Conuersion. But this busines, as all other of moment, he first commended seriously to God in his daily prayers and meditations, crauing his assistance, direction, and declaration of his holy will therein. At lēgth our Lord put into his mind, that concerning this great affaire, he should goe and consult, and take his direction frō a Monke of S. Bernards Order, who then liued in the Mona­stery of S. Vincentius and Anastasius [Page 110]in Rome, a greet seruant of God, and much reuerenced for the holines of his life. To him S. Philip presently re­payred, and expounded vnto him his whole intention and desire: who pre­sently demaunded some respite to answere, him, saying that this busines was to be sought from God for answere, by earnest prayer, and inter­cession to know his will: wherfore ioyning both their prayers together, after some houres of recollection, the Holy Monke told him, that he was not to goe to the Indies (for that work (was to be done by another) but to remayne still in Rome, & that Rome must be the Indies, and the vi­neyard which God would haue him to manure and cultiuate: Adding fur­ther, that S. Iohn the Euangelist had appeared vnto him, and tould him so: and that he should gather together many Disciples in Rome, whose workes should be very profitable to that Citty.

With this answere S. Philip was [Page 111]fully satisfied of the will of God con­cerning that busines, and therfore now began to apply himselfe to the helpe of his neighbours, by teacing, preaching, reading of Saints liues, hearing Confessions, and the like; so that in short time, he had many fol­lowers, and worthy Disciples (amōgst which Caesar Baronius, afterward Cardinall, that famous Historiogra­pher was one (with whom he laid the foundatiō of his order, beginning by little & little, & calling the people to­gether into the Church with a bell at certaine houres of the day; wherein after halfe an houre of mētall prayer spēt, which euery one made to him­selfe (yet altogether in one place) there were recited publikely te leta­nies and other prayers, commending therin as well the publike, as the pri­uate affaires of the holy Church. This order was obserued on Sun­dayes, Tuesdayes, Thursdayes, and Saturdayes. The other three dayes of the weeke, to wit, Munday, Wednes­day, [Page 112]day, and Friday, when they met to­gether, thy made a discipline whiles the 50. psalme and the Anthymne of Salue Regina (or some other Psalme or Hymne) was reading hauing exposed before thē only the Image of Christ crucified, placed in such order in a lanterne, that all the Confraternity might behould the same at once in the darke. Which custome weekely obserued, doth yet remayne in the said Congregation, with great deuo­tion and fruite of spirituall profit.

This was the first beginning and foundation of the Congregation, of the Oratory which was erected in S. Hieromes Church in Rome, surna­med de Charitate. And after a few yeares the same was brought into vse in the Church of S. Iohn Baptist also in Rome, belonging to the Florētines, at the request and intercession of the Cittizens of Florence, and there re­mayned, vntill S. Philip founded a new Church and house, of his owne, at our Blessed Ladies in Vallicella [Page 113]commonly called the Chiesa nuoua, where himselfe liued vntill his dying day: And now is greatly in creased & spread ouer all Italy, France, Spayne, Germany, & other Prouinces, to the great aduancement of Piety & Deuo­tion in the faithfull.

His predictions, prophesies, and foreknowledge of secret thinges (being far absent) are wonderfull in him both aliue and dead, and to set downe an example or two in this place, it will not be amisse. It happe­ned vpon a time that Cardinall Baro­nius, being then a Disciple of the Blessed Father and a layman, came vnto him one euening to Confessiō. The Father as soone as he saw him said, Goe Caesar, goe presently to the Hospitall of S. Spiritus, and helpe the sicke, I will heare thy Confession af­terward. Baronius was at this some­what troubled being now prepared for his Confession, and replied, that the time of seruing the sicke was now past, and that he should loose his la­bour [Page 114]in going thither, as comming at an vnseasonable houre, when there was nothing to doe. Doe as I bid thee, said the holy Father without more adoe. Baronius being ready to obay, went presently to the Hospitall, and when he came to the entrance of the roome where the sicke lay, he began to reason with himselfe, saying; Sure, there is some mistery in this matter, that our Father commaunds me to come hither at this vnseasonable houre (for it was now euen night & time of rest) and whiles he was thus reasoning with himselfe, he espied a sick man, with a candle standing lighted at his head, ready to giue vp the Ghost, to whom he presently went, and began to comfort with words of consolation, demaunding whether he had confessed his sinnes, and receaued the Sacraments of the holy Church: who being hardly able to draw his breath, answeree noe. Then Baronius presently ran to the Chaplaine of the Hospitall, and wil­led [Page 115]him to come quickly & heare his Confession. The Chaplaine some­what ashamed of his owne negli­gence, began to excuse it, and came with him instantly to the sicke man, who made his Confession, and pre­sently receaued the holy Sacrament of the Altar, and Extreme Vnction, and so straight after departed happily this life. Baronius returned home, & came vnto the Father and related the whole story. Why so quoth the holy Father, hence forward learne to obey more readily, and doe what thou art commaunded.

After that Baronius was made Priest, and had a long time preached vnto the people at S. Iohn Floren­tines Church aforesaid, who was also superiour of the Congregation of that house, he was exempted from his Office, and commanded by the holy Father to write the Ecclesiasti­call History of the Church, which after many difficulties proposed to the said Father, he obeyed his voyce, [Page 116]and began the same, and afterward very happily deduced it to the 13. hū ­dred yeare after Christ, as may be seene by his twelue Tomes extant euery where.

Another time it happened, that the Parents of a yong Gentleman, desi­rous to promote their sone, caused him to be made Priest at the age of 17. yeares, by reason that there was a great inheritance fallen vnto the se­cond Heyre of that family, which yet could not be possessed by him vn­lesse he were a Priest: So his Parents concealing his age both from the Bi­shop, and the young man himselfe, and all others, he was made Priest & tooke possession of the Inheritance. Presently after it chanced that Tho­mas (so he was called) came to Rome, and hearing of the great fame of S. Philip Nerius, he was brought vnto him to salute him. So soone as the holy man saw him, he said. You are a Priest Syr: is it not so? Yea, quoth the other, I am without doubt, by the [Page 117]grace of God. You say true, said Saint Philip: and then he could him his age truly, and how all had happened, by his friends meanes, and for what cause, neuer seeing knowing or hea­ring of the man before that houre. Afterward S. Philip was demaunded of those that stood by, & heard these thinges, how he knew, that the was a Priest? He said, that he did see the face of the yonge man to shine in the same manner, that all others who be signed with the Character of true Priesthood, do vse to doe.

It happened also that a noble Ro­man yong youth, who was giuen greatly to the pleasures of the world, was by another like youth and friend of his who was very deuout, brought vnto S. Philip vnder colour to see and salute him. When he came, his friend could the holy Father, that he had brought vnto him a Penitent. The Noble yonge man began to be an­gry, thinking that the other had mocked him, for that he had noe co­gitation [Page 118]of Confession; Yet in pre­sence of S. Philip, for feare and reue­rence of his person, hee asswaged his choler. And presently kneeled downe vnto him, saying that he would con­fesse, and so began: but with inten­tion to deceaue the Father by not confessing his sinnes truly as he should. The Father by diuine reuela­tion knew his intention, and so let him make an end. When he seemed to haue done, the Father exhorted him, that if he had committed any other sinnes, he should confesse thē. The other replied, and said, that he had confessed all. Thē S. Philip stood vp, and imbraching him said: You say not true, my Sōne, for you haue made but a faigned Confession of your sinnes. Now therfore I aduise you in the name of God, that you confesse them wholy, that you may be made worthy of pardon and forgiuenes. Which words so pierced the hart of the noble yong man, that repeating againe his Confession, he made it [Page 119]wholy and perfect of all his sinnes, euen from his childhood: and more­ouer cōmitted himselfe to be wholy gouerned and directed for the rest of his life to the holy Father Who pro­fited so well in spirit vnder so great a Maister, that within a while after he became a Religious man, and entred into the order of Saint Francis, wher­in he happily continued and made a holy end. His name was Raphael Lupus.

The miracles which it pleased God to worke of his seruant both aliue & dead, are almost innumerable. In the yeare of Christ 1552. one Mauritius Anerius, a Roman, fell dangerously sick, who being forsaken of the Phi­sitiās, as desperate, prepared himselfe to die, and had now receaued the holy Sacraments of the Altar, and Extreme Vnction, expecting a happy houre. Saint Philip hearing thereof, went in the euening to visit him, who found his wife and kinsfolkes wee­ping, bewayling the losse of so deare a [Page 120]friend. The holy Father exhorted all present to kneele downe with him, & implore the helpe of the B. Virgin for the sicke man, presently they did as he willed, and he in the meane space laid his hands vpon his head; which done, he went his way out of the house, the others either not seeing him to depart, orels not marking the same, being all full of griefe and sor­row. But see a wonder; he was scarse gone, but the sicke man began to opē his eyes, looke about him, and talke as ready and sensibly as euer he did in his health, saying he was well, and would needes rise out of his hed, soū ­ding forth praises to God, and extol­ling the holines of S. Philip, by whose helpe and assistāce he had recouered his health; & he liued after this, vntill the yeare of our Lord 1593. cōtinually praysing God and the How Father for the miracle.

The like happened vnto one Peter Victricius a Cittizen of Parma in the yeare of Christ 1566. who liuing then [Page 121]in Rome, fell into a dangerous sick­nes, which so increased, that the Phi­sirians gaue him ouer for a dead mā. In this meane time came the holy Father vnto him to comfort, and as­sist him for his last passage, who hol­ding his hands ouer him, and praying earnestly to God for his health, he presently felt himselfe better, and within a dayor two, became perfectly well, extolling and praysing the san­ctity of S. Philip.

The same yeare Iohn Baptista Crescius, a yong man of Rome, had such an intollerable paine in his eyes, by reason of a burning water which ran from them, that he could neither endure the light, or the ayre, or take any rest or repose for many dayes, wherby he was in danger of his life, the Phisitians determined to make him an issue in his necke, but he not willing to haue it, desired an vncle of his to lead him to the holy Father Philip, which he did, desiring him, that it would please him to pray to [Page 122]God for his Nephew that he might recouer the health of his eyes. The holy man presently touched his eyes with his hands, making the signe of the Crosse vpon them and said. Thou shalt my Sonne, by Gods helpe, recouer thy eyes; & presently he began to open them, & see perse­ctly, & could endure the light, which before he could not, and so within two or three dayes he became per­fectly well, without applying any thing at all thereunto.

In the yeare 1569. Laurētius Chri­stianus, a yong man, and a Clerke of S. Peters Church, fell into a burning feuer, which was so vehement, that in few dayes he was pronounced for dead by the Phisitians. Wherfore ha­uing made his Confessiō, & receaued deuoutly the holy Eucharist and Sa­crament of Extreme. Vnction, hauing wholy lost his senses, he expected the happy houre of his departure. The holy Father came to visit him about one a Clocke in the night, who ha­uing asked of the standers by, how he [Page 123]did, & vnderstāding that he was past hope of recouery, kneeled downe by his bed side, and prayed a good while for his health. And then rising he said: Laurence shall not die of this sicknes, and drawing neere vnto him, laying his hands vpon his head, he called vpon him by his name with a very loud voyce. Wherwith the man that was now ready to giue vp the ghost, was awaked, & began to start, and opening his eyes, after a little pause called for meate, eate well, and within a few houres arose whole & safe from his bed, praysing God, and extolling the holy Father. In the mor­ning the Phisitian was called; and fee­ling his pulse, found him perfectly cured saying. O Laurence, a greater Phisitiā thē my selfe hath cured thee; thou hast not bene holpen by hu­mane, but by diuine ayde.

In the yeare of our Lord 1570. there came to Rome from Atella, a certaine Gentle woman, who was grieuously possessed by the diuell, and though [Page 124]she were wholy vnlearned, yet did she speake latin, and that very ele­gantly; and being also asked any thing in latin, she would also answere in the same tongue, to the astonish­ment of all that heard her. More­ouer she was so strong, that foure lu­sty men could scarce take her from the ground and lift her vp, although she seemed in outward shew, to be a very weake and tender woman. She was brought vnto S. Philip, who be­gan to exorcize her, after a strang manner yet in such sort that he made the diuell within a while to forsake her: and this was, that he beate her very sorely with little iron chaines. And though the Diuell cried out a loud, saying, come beate me, strike me, kill me, and the like, yet did the woman not so much as once stir or moue her body all the while, but stood still like a statua of stone or wood. Which the holy man percea­uing, left her for that time, & caused her body to be refreshed with food. [Page 125]Vpon this she became so fearfull of S. Philip, that when she did but see any one to come towards her, she suspected they would carry her to him to be againe exorcized, which alwayes they were forced to doe with foure strong mē. S. Philip euery day caused her to be thus beaten, together with other exorcismes that he vsed, till he forced the Diuell to depart out of her body, who the night after he was cast out, came to the holy Father in his chāber, and with threatning eyes burst forth into these words: You Sirra, you good fellow, you haue vsed your pleasure vpon me to day, but I will not forget the iniury: and so va­nished away, and the Gentle woman remayned alwayes free afterward to her dying day.

Whiles the fame of this holy man was spread ouer the Citty, for his many miracles, and other notable things by him done, he had many se­cret and malignant aduersaries, who enuying his workes of piety, began to [Page 126]spread abroad some falsities of the man and his life. Some accused him that he drew many noble yong you­thes from the world, and shut them vp in Cloisters; Others accused him of simplicity and rudenes; Others, that in his sermons & exhortations he ei­ther spake many ridiculous thinges, or els did fayle in explicatinge the Doctrine of the Church aright. These thinges at last came vnto the eares of Pius Quintus, the Pope, who being a wise Pastour of his flocke, did not so easily belieue euery thing that was said: But sending for two Dominican Friars, that were very learned, com­maunded them to goe euery day vn­to the Church, to heare the Sermons and Exercises which S. Philip made, and to relate vnto him truly how the matter went. They did accordingly, and being one of them present euery day, for a long time, they neuer found the least fault, nor cause of complaint, but contrary wise found him to speak with such force, efficacy and feruour [Page 127]of spirit, that he moued all the Andi­tory, of what matter soeuer he spake. Nay which is more, when either he handled any high point or mistery of faith himselfe in his Sermons, or when in other Exercise of the Ora­tory, he was asked by any, he did explicate the same so cleerely and perspicuously, as any learned Diuine could haue done in the scooles, to the admiration and wonder of the two learned Fathers, that were set to marke and obserue him: so as his aduersaries inuentions vanished into the ayre.

Another time he was called before the Gouernour of Rome (who is al­wayes ordinarily an Ecclesiasticall man) & accused of making a tumult and vprore in the Citty, for that at a shrouetyde he had gathered toge­ther a great number of pilgrims and others of the poorer sort, and some also of good fashion, and by his good exhortation and counsell, had persua­ded thē to visit the seauen Churches [Page 128]on Shroue twesday at what tyme or­dinarily there are more disorders committed in the Citty then at o­thers: and he himselfe going before them and they following two & two in a ranke, went singing one while the letanies, another while hymnes, psalmes, and other deuotions, to the great profit of their owne sowles, and edification of the behoulders. When the Gouernour had heard the com­plaints generall, and beleeued his ad­uersaries, that their accusations were true, he presently sent for the Father, and sharply reprehended him, for his gathering together of people in that tumultuous māner as he was accused to haue done, threatning to send him to prison if he did not desist. S. Philip did not goe about to excuse himselfe, but answered humbly and lowly, that he was ready as well to proceed in the worke he had begun, as to desist from the same if Superiours did com­maund, and that he neither sought or aymed at any thing, then the glory of God and good of soules. At which [Page 129]meeke answere, the Gouernour was yet so angry, that he commaunded him to appeare before him as often as he should be called; that he should not heare any ones Confession for fifteene days space; that he should preach no more at all without ex­presse leaue graunted him a new; and lastly after many cōtumelious words thrust him out of dores.

All these things S. Philip bare very patiently, and with so constant and merry a countenance, that he was not perceaued to be at all moued therwith. In the meane while now that his aduersaries triumphing, had thought to haue so preuayled against him, he incessantly prayed vnto God for ayde, and not in vaine. For within the prescribed time, the Gouernour hauing made more enquiry of the man, and of his manner of life, and reflecting vpon the humble answere he had made him, to wit, That he was ready either to prosecute the worke he had begon, or to leaue it when Superiours should [Page 130]please, found that he was iniured and brought into these suspitiōs of meere hatred and calumniation. Wherfore he sent for the holy Father, and gaue him free leaue to liue as he pleased, to heare Confessions, teach, preach, as before, with signes of sorrow, that he had bene abused. And for that some others, who were also of high authority, were aduerse to S. Philip in this busines, and would not haue had him to be so quit, they died sod­denly, before the foresaid fifteene dayes were expired.

After that the holy man had suffe­red these and many such other brunts of calumniation and emnity, and had alwayes gotten the victory by his pa­tience & modest behauiour; he setled himselfe seriously to erect and found a house of his owne, which he did at our B. Ladies in Vallicella, in the yeare of our Lord 1576. and adioyned thereunto a very faire Church, dedi­cated to our B. Lady and S. Gregory. In the building of which Church, [Page 131]whē some neighbours thereabout did lesse fauour the enterprize, and did seeke to hinder the worke of God, they were takē out of this world by his iust Iudgmēt. And which is much to be admired, the holy Father, whē he began to lay the foundations of that Church, did not know where to haue one penny of money towards the building therof, but trusted wholy to the liberall hād of God; and his hope was not in vaine, for there were so great and abundant Almes daily be­stowed vpon the worke, that the same was finished in a very goodly manner within two yeares; and in that space, were giuen in Almes for that purpose aboue seauenty thou­sand Crownes, besides other particu­lar great sommes of money giuen by Princes and Senatours to the same end.

This House and Church being thus built and established, and the Order of Congregation of Oratory approued by the Pope S. Philip now [Page 132]begā to entertaine a number of very noble & learned Disciples, whom he instructed in all kind of vertue, & ex­emplar discipline. And in the yeate 1587. he was declared Generall of the Order, in which dignity he conti­nued vntill the yeare 1593. when he resigned the same withall humility. As soone as he was made Generall, he wrote certaine Constitutions, which he prescribed to be obserued of all that should addict themselues vnto his Order; but yet without bind­ing any by vow, but voluntarily, as is yet obserued therin.

After this he grew to be sickely, & so continued for 2. or 3. yeares vntil his dying day; yet neuerthelesse he left not off any worke of piety which he was accustomed to doe, as well in visiting the sicke, as otherwise; and in this time he wrought many miracles in the Citty, to the great astonishmēt and admiration of all Rome. And a­mongst others, hearing that Pope Clement the VIII. in Easter Holy­dayes, [Page 133]was sore troubled with the goute in his hand, he went vnto him to visit him; and comming into his chamber, he began to imbrace the Pope according as his custome was, through ancient familiarity. Hold, good Father, said his Holines, and come no neerer me I pray you, for my hand is much pained. Feare no­thing said S. Philip; and there vpon taking him fast by the sore hand and kissing it, presently the paine ceased, and was wholy driuen away. This happened in the yeare 1695.

The same yeare, and a few dayes after, to wit in the month of Aprill, the holy Father fell very sicke, and vpon the 12. day of May he was so surprized on the suddaine by a vehe­ment vomiting of bloud, which then oppressed him, that it was greatly feared he would be suffocated; wher­fore he was presently annoyled by Cesar Baronius, in the presence of Frederike Borromeus the Cardinall, who at that time was come to visit [Page 134]him. A litle after that he had receaued this Sacrament, he begā to be better, opened his eyes, and his senses to re­turne againe. Then the Cardinall as­ked him, if he would not receaue his Viaticum: wherto when he had yiel­ded, the Cardinall in his owne person went to the Church, and fetched the same.

As soone as Borromeus was entred into his Chāber with the Blessed Sa­crament, the holy Father, all bedewed with teares, burst forth in to these wordes: Behold my loue, Behold my loue: this is he wherin I delight, who only is deare to me. Giue him me Giue me my loue, and that presently, that I may enioy him within me. And this he spake with such vehe­mency of spirit, that he moued all the standers by to teares. The same night he sell againe into an agony with vo­miting of bloud, yet by the Phisitians care he was preserued from death. After a day or two, the Phisitians cō ­ming vnto him one morning some­what earely, he said vnto them with [Page 135]a lowd voyce. Get you gone my Mai­sters, for I haue no more need of your helpe for the present. My soitting of bloud is now stayed and paine of my brest is gone, & I begin to get strēgth a pace. The Phisitiās feeling his pulse, found him to be in very good temper to their great amazement, and by and by he arose out of his bed, and began to follow his exercises as before, and so continued vntill the 25. of the same moneth, saying masse euery day with great alacrity of deuotion, so as he seemed to be now in very perfect health.

Vpon the 25. day of May, which was that yeare the feast of Corpus Christi, which is in Rome kept most sollemue of all the dayes in the yeare in saying of his Masse he seemed to pronounce the words in a new tune, as it were singing for ioy: after which he spent a great part of that day in hearing of Confessions, and commu­nicating the people. In the afternone came to visit him very many honora­ble [Page 136]personages, amongst whom were Cardinall Pamphilius, Augustinus Cusanus Auditour of the Rota, and Spinellus Bencius Bishop of Politia­num, whom he entertayned with a very merry countenance according to his fashion, although he knew the houre of his death drew very neere. These forsaid Prelates that came to visit him, would needs say the Office of the Breuiary with him, by which meanes they stayed there till it was farre in the eueninge. When supper time came, the holy Father eate very sparingly, and was very well after supper: In so much as himselfe then said, that he had not bene better in health at any time for ten yeares be­fore, thē he was at that present More­ouer he was so merry, and of so plea­sant a countenance, that death was the least thing thought on of all, but of himselfe. After this he went to bed, and now desiring to conceale his death no longer, though yet he spake obscurely, he said to those that stood [Page 137]about him: Behold, we must all die. Thē he asked what a clocke it was? And they answered that it was almost three; When two houres more shall be added, said he, it wilbe fiue, & after one more added to those, it will be six. Then he said, Goe yee all to bed in the name of God. And so they all departed. At six a clocke Antony Gallonius, the writer of this his life, that lay in a Chamber next vnto him, soddanly a­waking, seemed to heare the holy Fa­ther to walke vp and downe in his Chamber. Wherfore he arose speedi­ly, and ran vnto him; Where he found the holy man sitting vpon his bed, & his mouth full of bloud, which he be­gan to vomite in aboundance Heere­vpon others were called, and many remedies applyed, but all in vaine. A­bout a quarter of an houre after, the vomit stayed of it selfe, and he tooke breath, and spake very readily, so as all now thought the danger of death was past. By and by after, turning to his Disciples (who by this time were [Page 138]come all into his chamber) he said. Stay with me a while, for now I begin to striue with death: Which words when he had spoken, he held his peace, and seemed to repose as if he had bene in prayer. Remayning in this sort a good while. Caesar Baronius read the Com­mendation of the soule, all the rest answering with watry eyes. When this was done, Baronius stood vp, and speaking vnto him with a loud voyce, desired that he would speake vnto his Disciples there present, and impart his benediction vnto them before he departed, The holy Father at these wordes opened his eyes, and lifting them vp towards heauen prayed a while, and after that, gaue them his blessing, and so without any signe of paine, or any griping, or gasping, with a most sweet and delectable countenance, he gaue vp his blessed soule to rest, the 25. day of May, being the feast of Corpus Christi, in the yeare of our Lord 1595. about the sixt houre within night, as himselfe had fortold.

As soone as he was dead, he ap­peared vnto many in the Citty, & in particular to a very deuout religious virgin, cloathed with a very white & pretious garment, saying thus vnto her. I am now as thou seest, called to the Crowne of my labours; haue thou a care, to follow the course of life thou hast begun, and thou shalt enioy the same glory: and with this he vanished out of her sight. The next morning his body was laid in the Church, wher­vnto all the Citty, great & small, rich and poore, made concourse, and the Cardinalls and Princes of the Court did no lesse, all reuerencing the body of the holy Father; and well was he that could come neere to kisse or touch the same. Others brought Ro­ses, and flowers, and strawed his body all ouer, but as fast as they were laid vpon him, so fast were they taken away, and gathered as pious spoiles, and applied to all sorts of diseases & fores, wherby very many were cured.

And whilest he thus lay vpon the [Page 140]Beere in the Church, one Augustinus Magistrius a Roman yong man, ha­uing a sore in his necke, which had eaten two great holes, one to his mouth, and the other to his shoulder, and was pronunced incurable, came to the holy body, and after he had made his prayers, tooke the hand of S. Philip, and hauing kissed the same deuoutly, put it to his necke and tou­ched the soare therwith, and was ther­by presently cured. As soone as he came home he tould a yong sister of his, whose name was Margaret, who for six yeares had laboured of the same disease: presently she hasted to the Church with her mother, and for that it was impossible for her, being but a girle to get vnto the body, for the presse of people, her mother tooke her vp in her armes & carried her with maine strength to the body, who taking the holy Fathers hand as her Brother had done, and touching her necke therwith, was also present­ly healed. Herevpon the Father of the [Page 141]yong man and maide, named Alexā ­der, who was 60. yeares of age, and who had a running also in his eyes, which had continued aboue 2. mo­neths, so grieuous that he could not endure so much as the least light of a candle, hearing of the cure of his two children, ran presently to the holy body, and making his prayers, and doing as his childrē had done, he was also cured.

These miracles with many more being diuulged, there was such run­ning for the space of three dayes and neights vnto his body, that his disci­ples of the Congregation had great difficulty to bury him, which at last they found meanes to doe in a wood­den Coffin, in an humble graue at the foote of the High Altar. But whē Cardinall Pamphilius had vnderstood thereof, he was much displeased therwith that a man so famous, and illustrious for miracles both aliue & dead, should be laid in so humble a place; & therfore dealt seriously with [Page 142]the Fathers of the same Congrega­tion to remoue him: who consulting the busines with Cardinall Medices, he was taken vp, and put into a new­faire Coffin, which the said Cardinall had caused to be made, and placed in a more decent place at one side of the High Altar, with an Arch made ouer the body; wherat miracles were wrought so frequently, that the walls about were presently hung with vo­tiue Tables: and such a most sweet smell, as it were of Roses and violets, was daily felt to proceed from his body, as was wonderfull.

After some yeares that the holy Body had laine in this place, and so many miracles were daily wrought therat, a noble cittizen of Florence, who had obtained a Sonne by the prayers of S. Philip, caused a most sumptuous and gorgeous chappell to be erected neere to the right side of the high altar, wherto his body was translated, & there remaineth to this day; and is reuerenced with great de­uotion [Page 143]of the whole Christian world. He was canonized for a Saint the 12. day of March by Pope Gregory the fifteēth in the yeares of our Lord 1622.

THE ADMIRABLE LIFE of S. Charles Borromeus Arch­bishop of Milan, and Cardinall. Writtē in Italian by Doctour Guissano, of the Order of Oblates of S. Ambrose in Milan; and translated in to English.

SAINT Charles was borne in the yeare of our Lord 1538 the 2. day of October, Paul the 3. being Pope, & Charles the 5. being Emperour. His father was called Gilbert Borromeus & his mother Margaret de Medices, sister ger­mane to Pope Pius the 4. not inferior to other Lords of Milā eyther for re­ligiō, or for antiquity of their family and nobility. Our Lord entending to decl are that he had designed this child for the honor and increase of [Page 144]the Catholike Church, it pleased his diuine Maiesty, to honour his birth with a strange and wonderfull signe. For in the same momēt wherin he was borne, there appeared ouer his mo­thers bed chamber a light, like vnto the beames of the sunne, and as long as a crosbow can well carry, which was attentiuely considered by sundry persons that beheld the same: foretel­ling by this vnusuall light, the splēdor and heroicall acts, as also the holy and irreprehensible conuersation of S. Charles.

Many were the arguments which he gaue of his future sanctity, being yet a little child: as, to erect and adorne litle Altars, before which he made his prayer, and other like exer­cises of deuotion. And it is almost incredible how much this little. soule tooke delight and contentment ther­in. Which being cōsidered by his Pa­rents, seemed to presage no other thing of him, but that he was espe­cially called of God to an Ecclesiasti­call [Page 145]estate: for which cause they clo­thed him in the habit of a Cleark, which he receiued, & whore the same so inyfully, as it seemed they had in this fully accomplished his desire.

His vertues increased in him toge­ther with his yeares: wher of he gaue most rare testimony studying in the Vniuersity of Padua, where neuer any heard word to issue from his mouth, which sauoured not of vertue and edification: he was exceeding pa­tient, sweet, peaceable, modest, and hūble, so that none euer saw him ar­rogāt, neuer in any choler, neuer ad­dicted to pleasures, or any youth full leuity. During his studies, he had for maister and conductor one Alciatus (who was Cardinall) vnder whome he made so great profit, that at the age of 22. yeares, he was with the ge­nerall applause of all, adorned with the title of Doctor.

Pius the 4. Vncle to Charles, being made Pope in the yeare 1559. he [...]ent for him vnto Rome and created him [Page 146]Cardinall & Archbishop of Milā, gi­uing him charge not only of affaires concerning the gouernment of that Sea, but also honored him with sūdry titles of most rich and wealthy dig­nities. Being placed therein (although he were set in the highest degree of honor) yet he neuer omitted to in­struct and teach by his wholsome ex­amples, the Prouinces as well neere at hand, as far off, pursuing the af­faires of his charge, faithfully & with singular prudence, to the incredible contentment of euery one. Amongst many affaires of importance which were effected and brought to happy end by his labour and industry, one & that of chiefest moment was the con­cluding and finishing of the Coun­cell of Trent, the which Pope Paul the 3. had begun in the yeare 1537. to withstand and suppresse the wicked heresies of Luther, Caluin, Zuinglius, and other seducers, but could not haue it ended for sundry difficulties which occured; wherof Pope Pius [Page 147]the 4. hauing once againe vndertakē the pursuite, he gaue the first & chie­fest charge therof vnto his nephew Charles, as to one most zealous in this affaire: wherein he trauelled with such solicitude, vigilancy, and feruour of courage, as none but him­selfe could so well haue effected a bu­sines so intricate as that was.

The Councell being ended, him­selfe was the first, who (his Vncle holding yet the soueraigne Sea) put in practise the execution of those de­crees, in his owne bishoprick of Mi­lan; and other Bishops moued therto by his exemple, did the like by meanes wherof many kingdomes and Prouinces in Christendome, in­creased incredibly in the seruice of God, and in Catholike piety: but the greatest fruite remained in the Church of Milā where this holy Pa­stour desirous to reforme his cleargy and people, began first with his own person, then with his house and fa­mily, dismissing out of his seruice all [Page 148]such persons as seemed to him lesse profitable to his desine, to the nūber of no lesse then fourescore (yet first recōpensing them all well) retaining the Cleargy men of who me he hoped for good exemple and assistance, in that which concerned the reforma­tion of his Church of Milan.

The Catholike Church hath re­ceaued an immortall benefit by the meanes of this holy man, for none so much watched and solicited as he, to bring into vse the ancient custome to hold Prouinciall and Diocesan coun­cells, according to the decree of the councell of Trent. For in the space of [...]. yeares, that he resided in Milan, he held six Prouinciall councells, and eleuen Sinodes of the diocese, wher­in he instructed his subiects with so many documents and good exāples, that the new order of the Church of Milā did illustrate all & especially the adioyning seas. For proofe of his zeale, charity, and liberality we may looke vpon the many Churches, Chappels, [Page 149]Altars which he eyther builded or re­paired, as also sundry Colledges, and Seminaries which he erected for the education and instruction of youth, who should afterwards trauell in the vineyard of Iesus Christ. In Milan he built a Colledge called the colledge of gentlemen, therin to instruct the young nobility in all vertue, learning, and discipline: and another for the cleargy of the Heluetians and Swit­zers, where they are instructed in Philosophy and Diuinity, to help the the conuersion of their countries: which produceth such exceeding fruit, that it may of right be called, the rampaire and defence of the Ca­tholike Faith in the confines of Ger­many. At Pauia he built another, called the colledge of Borromeus, which is without comparison, the most goodly and most sumptuous that is in all Europe, and endued the same with great reuenues. He foun­ded a congregation of secular priest, called Oblats of S. Ambrose. He [Page 150]built a Church neere our Ladies of Rauda, in his diocesse, in honor of the Queen of heauen: and another very sumptuous in Milan called the Church of S. Fidelis, which hegaue to the fathers of the Society, for whom he also foūded the Colledge of Brera in Milan, where they read all sciēces, like vnto that which was erected in Rome by Pope Gregory the thirtēth. He likewise built a Colledge for the order of Theatins. Two other Semi­naries he built in Milan, the one in the Church and house of Saint Iohn Baptist, capable of a hundred and fifty priests. The other, called Canonicall, wherin are resident sixty cleargy mē, who study the holy Scripture, and cases of Conscience to become able to take vpon them the care of soules: two others also in the Diocesse of Celana. He erected two Conuents of the poore Clares with he babit of Capucinesses, each containing fifty religious, who leade so holy and au­stere a life, that all th Citty of Milan [Page 151]hold for assured, to be succoured by their prayers in any necessity. He built also a house with prouision spi­rituall and temporall for poore mai­dens, that were left fatherlesse, that so their honesty should be conserued, and two for women which eyther were forsaken by their husbands, or by some meanes had blemished their good name, or were any way in dan­ger of soule or body: and a Hospitall for those that were infected with the plague.

Finally, to omit many more of like sorte for breuities sake, he let passe no worke of charity towards poore and distressed persons of either sex, as well of body as of soule. For exāple, at what time there was in Milan an infinit number of poore beggats ga­thered together, who were ready to dye for hungar and thirst (the plague being then in chiefest fury) he caused to be giuen vnto them, all the proui­sion that was in his house, and after commaunded all his siluer and goldē [Page 152]plate to be carried to the kings coy­ners, and to be stamped into mony, and giuen vnto them. And moreouer he disfurnished his palace of all the tapistry, to the very carpets of his ta­bles, to cloth the poore against the rigor of the cold. Yea his charity ex­tēded it selfe so far, as to lye himselfe vpon the bordes, and cause his owne bed to be carried to the Hospitall. And further, he depriued himselfe of the Dutchy of Auriana in the king­dome of Naples, valued at ten thou­sand Ducats yearly mony of Naples, giuing all that sūme vnto the poore, vnto Hospitals, and vnto other works of piety: so that one may iustly say, that S. Charles was much more affe­cted towards the poore, then he was towards his owne kinred. Amongst sixty or seauenty thousand poore per­sons, sick of the plague, and of other diseases, one was not to be foūd that wanted foode or rayment, so great was the care & solicitude of S. Char­les, especially to those who were infe­cted [Page 153]with the plague, to whome this pittifull Pastour, did goe in person frō tent to tēt to succor & visit thē as they lay in the fields, which visit he often continued till six or seauen houres within the night. And albeit he had in his traine a great number of priests, which he had sent for out of Sauoy, to administer vnto them the holy Sacraments, yet he himselfe also vndertooke the same work so full of perill, as to visit them, and to admini­ster the Sacraments vnto them with his owne hands, making no difficulty to stand by the beds side of those that dyed, and to put them in mind of the mercy of God, and to giue them full pardon in the houre of death.

Great likewise was the temperāce, abstinence and austerity of life of this holy Saint; who first accustomed to fast once a weeke: then twice and afterwards foure tymes a weeke, and so cōtinued vntill such time, as quite for saking flesh, wine, and all other meates, he accustomed himselfe to [Page 154]fast euery day (except holy dayes) ta­king only a meane refection in bread and water. He likewise got a custo­me, to eate and to study altogether so to gayne tyme: and many tymes he was found eating vpon his knees, be­cause of his reading of the holy Scri­ture, which he still did read in that posture of body, to declare the great reuerence that he bare therto. Some­tymes he remayned in the Church by occasion of the forty houres prayer, all the tyme that they lasted: and al­most in each houre preached to the people, the concourse wherof was great both night and day. To these ri­gors of fastings, he added the chasti­cement of his body with whippes & scourges, woare a shirt of haire, slept vpon a bed of straw, or else vpon the bare bordes. He would not in the greatest cold, come neere the fier, and alwaise had his handes bare, so that sometimes the bloud issued from them.

For an euident signe of the fancti­ty of this seruant of God and in ap­probation [Page 155]of his great zeale in defen­ding the rightes & priuiledges of the Church, and reforming of corruptiō, crept in amongst the religious and cleargy vnder his care, behold how the hand of Almighty God was very present, assisting him, at such tyme as a wicked Apostata attempted to slay him: the occasion of which crime, was as followeth. This holy Archbi­shop endeauouring to reforme the order of the Religious called Humi­liats (of whome he was Protectour by order of the Apostolique Sea) and la­bouring to restraine their scandalous liberty, and to reduce them to the first obseruation of their anciēt rule; foure of them who stifly withstood this reformation cōspired his death, not otherwise able to auoid restraint, by reason of the great zeale and au­thority of their zealous pastour and protectour. Wherupon one of them named Hierom Farina, for a summe of mony receiued, promised to be executioner of this murder. This fel­low [Page 156]therfore conducted by the diuell as a second Iudas, in the yeare 1569. the 26. day of October, at one a clock in the night, finding S. Charles ac­cording to his custome at prayer in his Bishops chappel, euē as the quier sung these words of the ghospell; Let not your hart be troubled, nor feare you not. This wicked murderer, hauing got on secular apparell approaching neere vnto the Bishop, shot off a pi­stoll, charged with a bullet, & sundry other murthring shot: the bullet wherof lighted full vpon his back, & some of the other lesser shot pierced his garments euen to his flesh, and o­thers went thorough a table of an inch thick, and the residue did nota­bly batter the walls the were before him. Sodainly all the assistants rose vp on their feete, and began to be sore affrighted, he only who had re­ceiued the blow sitting still vpon his knees remained in peace not showing any signe of feare. But because the blow had made him much to bowe [Page 157]downward, fearing they should thinke that he were slaine, holding his hādes still ioyned together, he at the last lif­ted vp his head towards heauen, and hauing appeased those that were pre­sent, he ended the prayer he had be­gun, without so much as once more mouing his body. Afterwards reti­ring himselfe to goe to rest, he found that his Rochet was soyled with the bullet, and his other garments also, but were not pierced. Notwithāding, there appeared vpon his back a būch of a blewish coulor, like to dead flesh where the bullet had light, which fell at the feete of Saint Charles, as it were for reuerence, not drawing so much as a drop of bloud: which marke remayned vntill his death, for a memory of the fact. The Doctors of phisick, and many others which had seene & cōsidered the place that was shot, iudged that it was a cleere & manifest miracle. In fine the mur­derer was apprehēded with his foure companions, by the commandemēt [Page 158]of the Duke Asburquerco couernour of Milā, by an edict which he publis­hed the selfe same night, and shortly after were put to death for their hor­rible fact.

Hauing walked in the narrow way of this world, triumphed ouer vices, and adorned himselfe with all the excellent vertues before rehearsed, the houre of his departure approa­ching neere, he first visited the holy Sudary of our Sauiour Iesus at Tu­rino, with a singular & vnspeakeable deuotion, and from thence went to the mount of Varalla neere vnto No­uara, where there is a deuout solitary place of Religious men, and the se­pulcher of our Sauiour is erected like vnto that in Hierusalem with diuers other monuments of Christs passion, whervnto the holy man was specially deuoted: where he abode the space of fifteene dayes, exercising himselfe in most austere workes of pennance, & rēdring his soule capable of celestiall glory by a generall Confession of all his life, with many sighes and abun­dance [Page 159]of teares. But falling sicke by his too much rigour, and feeling that his sicknes increased, he returned to­wards Milan, enflaming those that went in his company in the loue of God by a burning charity wherwith he was wholy inflamed, and by his sermons which he made of the glory of the blessed, which were so ful of fire, and so piercing, that the harts of those that heard him were touched therwith in such sort that from their eyes distilled fountaines of teares.

He arriued at Milā, vpon the feast of All Soules towards euening and hauing passed the day following in holy discourses, and receiued the Sa­craments of the Church with singular deuotion and humility (holding his eyes fixed vpon a picture of the sepul­ture of the dead) couered with a shirt of haire, and with ashes, like vnto an­other S. Martin (whose vertues he had diligētly imitated during his life) with great tranquility and quiet of body and mind, he rendred his soule [Page 160]vp to God, about three houres after sunne setting, the last yeare of the Popedome of Gregory the 13. & 47. yeare of his age. It is impossible to de­clare what sorrowe what lamētations and what sighings, the vnexpected death of this most holy pastor, caused both in poore and rich. The Church, deplored her vigilant Pastour; the tri­bunalls, their incorrupted iudge; the orphanes, their protectour and de­fender; and the needy, their most li­berall benefactour. Finally, to satisfy the great deuotion of the people, which flowed thither on euery side, it was necessary to expose the body the space of three dayes in the Church, to the view of euery one. The Bishops Pallace was filled with deepe sighes, the streetes with sobbs, and the houses with teares & mour­ning: so that there was not any in so great a multitude of people, which did not bewaile the losse of his good father (for hard it was to iudge, whe­ther there were more people in the streetes then vpon the topps of the [Page 161]houses) and who pursued not his most holy Pastour with complaints and inconsolable sorrow: in such sort, that all the people cryed out aloud, Mercy, mercy: euery one thinking himselfe right happy, to touch with their beades or Rosary, his venerable hody.

The miracles which Almighty God wrought by the intercession & merits of S. Charles, were very many wherof these which follow were in part examined and approued for his canonization. He healed by the ver­tue of his holy prayer, Iohn Pietro Stopano, at this day Archbishop of Maccia in the valley of Telino, of a deadly disease, being forsaken of the phisitians. By the signe of the crosse, he preserued the Abbot Bernardino Tarusi, and Ioseph Cauallerio being drowned in the r [...]uer of T [...]cino. By the force of his prayer, he saued frō the perill of death, Iulio Homatto, who being on horsback, fell frō the top of a most high & horrible precipice. [Page 162]He draue away by the benediction of his hands, diuers diuells who had lōg tyme obsessed a young youth. With the same benediction he healed in an instant, one Margarete Vertua, who had a double tertian ague for the space of eight mōths, & was brought vnto so low estate, that she could not (lying alwayes on her bed) moue so much as any one part of her body. In an instant, he likewise healed by his blessing, a noble woman, of a disease proceeding of witch-craft & diuelish art.

These miracles with many others, were wrought by him during his life, but he wrought a great many more after his death: wherof for breuity sake, I will recount only some, omit­ting the circumstances, which make the miracles the more famous, & de­clare only the matter it selfe and sub­stance of the things. Dame Paula Iu­stina Casara, religious in the great monastery of Milan, hauing bene for the space of eight yeares and a halfe paralitique, altogether dead on the [Page 163]one side, infected with diuers other diseases, and lastly giuen ouer of the best Phisitians of the Citty, finally in­uocated S. Charles Borromeus, and that with very great fruit: for as soone as she had made her prayer before the picture of S. Charles, by her sted-fast faith she was healed, the yeare 1601. vpon the feast of S. Ihon Baptist. And at the selfe same instant, fearing to be more slack in giuing thākes vnto the Saint, then he had beene to giue her health, she went forth of her chāber, entred into the Church, and sunge Te Deū, together with the other religious who were all assembled to see this mi­racle.

Sister Candida a religious woman of the conuent of Capucinesses in Milan, hauing lyen three yeares sick, and her disease being iudged incura­ble by the Doctors: hauing re­ceiued the Sacraments ready to dye, arose vp whole and cheerfull from her bed, for that at the same instant, she had made a vow vnto S. Charles, [Page 164]and had caused to be layd vpon her the gowne which he was wont to weare in his chamber: which she thē went and carried with her owne hāds into the Church, to the great amaze went of the other religious. This ha­pened the yeare 1601. vpon the feast of S. Peter and S. Paul.

In the month of October, the yeare 1604. Philip Naua of Milā, had a sonne borne blind, his interior or­gans being offended, that there ran downe cōtinually a pricking humor, which had caused to grow without, two strange clods or bunches of the bignes of halfe an egge, vnder the which the eyes were wholy hid and buried. This caused Lucina his mo­ther, seeing the defect to increase frō day to day (the 25. day after his birth) to implore the assistāce of S. Charles, beseeching him, that amongst the many of his miracles, he would re­store her infant his eyes, and in parti­cular for the loue of the name of Charles giuen vnto the infant at his [Page 165]Baptisme. Instantly S. Charles ap­peared in a visible forme, and hauing giuen his benediction, restored to the child both sight and perfect health of his deformity.

The like hapned to one Martha Vighia of Milan, who hauing bene afflicted for fix whole yeares with the paine of her eyes, and after al sorts of medicins, out of hope to recouer her sight, S. Charles appeared vnto her in her sleep, anno 1601. willing her to goe visit his sepulcher, & so she should returne in perfect health: herevpō she was led by the hand vnto the Church vpon a friday, where she made her prayers; & as soone as she had kissed the stone of the sepulcher of S. Char­les, her sigth was entirely & perfectly restored.

Candida Francisca, religious of S. Agnes in Milan, hauing kept her bed 22. monthes, was so greatly afflicted in al her body that the Doctors gaue her ouer as a dead woman: the 22. of Iune, anno 1601. holding in her hād [Page 166]the picture of Saint Charles, and in­uoking him by most vrgent prayers presently all her paines ceased and at the same instāt, her right legge, which was a handfull shorter then the left, was reduced to the iust length and quantity of the other.

Iohn Iacques Lomati, a gentleman of Milan, had his leggs so grieuously eaten and full of holes, that he could not stand vpon his feete, nor goe one step without a staffe: so that the Chi­rurgeons of the Citty sayd, that there was an end of Master Lomati. It chanced one day, that he was more sorely tormēted then ordinary; wher­vpon he went to the sepulcher of S. Charles, and besought his helpe. And to the end to obtaine the same so much the sooner, he adiured this ce­lestiall cittizen saying: If thou be that Saint whom al the people doe so ho­nor, obtaine helpe of God formee. So­dainly as he had made this prayer, & that he had attentiuely heard the holy Masse, he foūd him selfe healed [Page 167]of all his euills, & his soares cōuerted into sound and liuely flesh the 24. of September 1587.

Ihon Baptista Tiron being a child of fiue yeares old, falling into the riuer of Ticinio, as soone as he had called to memory the name of S. Charles, before whose picture he was dayly wont to make his prayers (instructed herein by his father) this holy Prelat appeared presently in visible forme, who drew him forth of the flood, led him vpon the waues therof aboue a hundred cubits, & brought him safe­ly to the banck, before the sight of sundry persons, who despaired of the life of the child.

Margaret, daughter of Angelo Monti of Milan, came out of her mo­thers wombe, with her two feet twi­sted together, so that the soles of thē were turned backwards, & the vpper part was vnder. She being six yeares old, and hauing still this deformity, her mother called Militia Verga, car­ried her to the sepulcher of S. Charles [Page 168]anno 1601. to craue helpe, offering a burning wax light vnto this friend of God for her daughter. The child lighted the wax, & at the same instāt, her right legge was set streight and put in his place, and of iust length. By and by after she came againe, & made and repeated her former prayer, and her left legge receiued the like cure: but yet a little marke still remained of the precedent defect, in memory of the miracle.

Ioane daughter of Ihon Baptista Maroni, cittizen of Milan, had from her birth her legges and her feete so exceeding crooked, that she could in no manner of sort walke vpon them: and the ioynts of her knees being out of their place, she could make her legges turne this or that way, as she listed, and easily could cast them vpon her shoulders so that she trayled her selfe whither she would goe, vpon her hādes & knees, with little creepers made of wood. The 4. yeare after her birth, her mo­ther [Page 169]being praying at the sepulcher of Saint Charles, the child receiued full and entire health in all her members, in the moneth of Iuly 1604.

Anastasia de Magis, of the same Citty, had bene for the space of 36. yeares, obsessed by sundry malignant spirits. And albeit that in so long a space of tyme, she had proued sundry meanes, as Exorcismes and Inuocatiō of other Saints, made many voyages, and pilgrimages, and the like, yet no­thing at all did profit her: At the last she had recourse to this holy Cardi­nall, and as she was in great deuotion before his picture, crauing to be deli­uered, the 24. of October. 1601. she felt her selfe smitten vpon the breast, and that with so great a stroke that she fell down halfe dead vpon the ground; And remayning so the space of two houres, she arose free from all infection of the diuell, and was neuer after troubled more. The life of this Saint is extracted out of the Italian Abridgment set forth by the very [Page 170]Reuerend Prelate Francis Penia Au­ditour of the Rota in Rome, and put into French by Charles de Canda, Prior of Domp-martin, in Artois. He was canonized by Pius V. the first day of Nouember anno 1610. & his feast is celebrated the fourth of the same moneth.

THE LIFE OF S. FRANCISCA of Rome gathered out of the writtings of her ghostly Father, and the Acts of her Canonization, by Iulius Vrsinus of the Society of Iesus.

SAINT Francisca was borne in Rome the yeare 1384. Her Fathers name was Paul de Buxis, and her mother Iaquelina de Rofredeschi, both of a noble, and illustrious family, & pos­sest with great riches. She was bapti­zed in the Church of Saint Agnes in Nauona. Her parents had a singular care to bring her vp in the feare, and loue of God: who made the same ap­peare, euen in her infancy, what a one she should one day become. For not only did she reiect those playes and toyes, with which children vse to be pleased and delighted, but which is more admirable, euē in her cradle she whould neuer permit so much as her [Page 172]parents, to touch, or handle her, vnles she were first clothed.

Growing more in yeares, she fled from all the pastimes of that age, and delighted only with solitude, by the benefit of which, she applied her selfe to prayer and deuotion, which together with her age so increased in her, that at eleauē yeares old, she dis­couered an earnest desire to retire her selfe from the world, and to serue God the rest of her dayes in some Mona­stery.

One day she saw in spirit a beau­teous, graue, & noble matrone, fierce­ly and neerely pursued, by many fearfull & furious Gyants, wherwith she being moued to compassion, prayed for her deliuerance with such feruour, that at last the matrone see­med to be wholy deliuered from the danger of her pursuers: which ma­trone she vnderstood after to be the holy Church, & the Giants that pur­sued her, those which at that time had disturbed her peace by a dangerous [Page 173]Schisme.

In another vision her glorious Pa­tron Saint Paul the Apostle, together with the Holy Patriarch S. Benet, & S. Mary Magdalen appeared to her, admonishing her to redouble her prayes and feruour, therby to appease and auert the anger of God, and his plagues (which were already pre­pared) from falling on the Citty of Rome, to whom she obeyed, with such feruour and earnestnes, that she left not praying vntill she was giuen to vnderstand, that the wrathe of God was withdrawne, and turned from Rome, and from the holy Church.

She had likewise another Reue­lation from S. Benet, that she was come into the world to helpe, to the saluation of soules, and that she was the particular guift of God to men in those miserable and wicked times, for the good of humane generation, and that therefore she was to apply her selfe wholy vnto their ayde.

This child admirable in vertue and piety, hauing sought & desired to de­dicate her selfe wholy in some Reli­gious monastery to God, at twelue yeares old, by the expresse, and abso­lute commaundemēt of her parents, was constrayned to espouse her selfe to Laurentius de Pontiano, a Roman Gentleman. After which mariage, she liuing in a House of her husbāds, on the other side of Tyber made it knowne, by a great, and violent sick­nes that she there had, how gratefull that kind of life was vnto her. Being recouered from her sicknes, she liued as much retired as she could, excusing hir selfe from bāquets and feasts both of parents and friends, and shunning all kind of sports, wherwith others of her yeares and condition, vsed to be much recreated and delighted.

All her delight was in prayer, me­ditation, and frequent visitation of Churches, where she attended to the Diuine Office & Sermons with great tendernes of deuotion. She exercised [Page 175]notwithstandinge all those vertues towards her husband, which were most rare, or any way commendable in a wife: but aboue all, obedience, ioyned with such a great respect and reuerence vnto him, that it is most certaine, that for the space of 40. yeares that they liued together, the peace of sacred mariage was neuer violated betweene them, by the least vnkind word: for so perfectly and wholy had she subiected her will & desire vnto her husband, that vpon what occasion soeuer, she neuer see­med to haue other will then what she saw to be his, If at any time she were called by her husband, or by any other of the house, to put in order any houshold affaires, she would promptly leaue her prayers or any other kind of deuotion vnsinished, and goe to doe what she was re­quired.

It pleased our Lord one day by an especiall miracle, to sheew how acceptable this her promptitude was [Page 176]vnto him: for in saying the Office of our B. Lady, she being called away foure times, and as oftē being forced to leaue off in one, and the selfe same verse, and at last returning, found that verse written in godden letters, which was done by her good Angell, as S. Paul afterward in a vision declared vnto her, by which it pleased our Lord to shew, in what manner we ought to prefer the obediēce which we owe to our Superiours, before his owne seruice.

The holy Sacrament of wedlocke, together with matrimoniall chastity, this holy woman conserued in such perfectiō, that euery one of her acts, was a seuerall testimony of her con­tinency, and purity: especially by the cōtinuall afflicting of her body, with wearing of haire cloth, disciplines, & such like austerities, it was easy to gather in what esteeme she had all carnall concupiscēce & delight. Her austerities were so seuere, that her hu­sband pittying her great and excessiue [Page 177]mortificatiōs, accorded with her, for many yeares before his death, to passe the rest of their liues in perfect conti­nency.

The sight of men not only was vn­pleasing vnto her, but also afflicted her; but yet much more the sight of vnchast and dishonest women, whom neuertheles (moued by an ardēt cha­rity) she laboured earnestly to con­uert to God, and to retire from their lewd and naughty liues. One day passing towards the Iewes streete, she saw diuers diuells dauncing in a cer­taine house, & making great cheere, which moued her to enquire of the neighbours who they were that dwelt in that house; and hauing vnderstood that there inhabited two famous Courtesans, who were much frequē ­ted, she persuaded their Landlord to put them out of his house, which was done, and the diuells abandoned their lodging.

The foule Fienns for this cause, & diuers others, were greatly enraged & [Page 178]animated against this S. and there­fore desirous to reuenge themselues, appeared vnto her, some times in the likenes of a man, sometimes of a wo­man, euer in some or other lasciuious and dishonest manner: whome she made still to depart confounded, and ashamed, through the inuocation of the holy name of Iesus.

But one day especially the diuell being enraged against her, by reason of a notable conquest, that she had gotten ouer him, he brought into her chamber in the night, the body of a dead man, halfe putrified, casting forth a most pestilent and intollera­ble stinck, which he drew ouer all the parts of her naked bodie, so oftē, that he left her all ouer infected with that most horrible stinke, but especially there remayned a liuely, & loathsome memory in her imagination, that for euer after, she neuer eate without vo­miting and loathing; and which is more, she conceyued therevpon such an auersion from all men, that [Page 179]whensoeuer she came neere vnto any afterward she trembled with feare, and euen supposed then to feele the same most loathsome sauour.

She desired of God to haue chil­dren, not for earth, but for heauen, & therfore when they were borne in bringing thē vp, she was more care­full to frame their minds then their bodies, and to teach them the art to die well, rather then any art wherby they might apply themselues to line. She had one Sonne named Euange­list, who in his infancy was not only indued with more then mature wise­dome, but also with the guift of Pro­phesy. This child playing one day with his Father, drew out a knife from the scabbard of his Fathers sword, and putting the point thereof to the reynes of his said Fathers back, told him, that in that very place he should shortly after receaue a dāge­rous woūd, as it happened vnto him in the yeare 1406. in a sedition be­tweene the Romans, and the people [Page 180]of Ladislaus King of Naples. This Child likewise seeing another time a Frier passing along the way, told him that ere long he should change that habit for a more honorable, which prooued true, for the Frier was short­ly after created Bishop.

The Citty of Rome being visited with the plague, this little Saint fee­ling himselfe stroken with the conta­gion, and knowing that he should shortly die, made great instance for Confession; after which he told his mother, that S. Antony, and S. Onu­phrius, to whome he was particularly deuoted, were come with a glorious company of Angells, to conduct him to heauen, and so this blessed child being only 9. yeares old, with an inex­pressible ioy, passed from this fading life, vnto the ioyes of an euerlasting blisse. At the instant of his departure, a little girle them lying sick of the plaguein another house, & hauing for a long time before bene speachles, so­dainly cryed out, that she saw Euan­gelist [Page 181]de Pontiano, with great glory borne vp by Angells into heauen. S. Francisca his Mother praying in her oratory about a yeare after, Euange­list appeared vnto her, of the same stature, and forme (only that he was aboue all expression more faire and glorious) as he was when he died, hauing another Child with him of the same age, and no lesse glorious, who declared vnto his mother, that he was placed in heauen among the second quire of Angells, and that the principall cause of his coming was to lead along with him to heauen, his sister Agnes, she being only 5. yeares old, whose place was prepared in heauen equall to his. Ag­nes therfore shortly after falling sick, her mother saw a faire white doue flying vp & downe ouer her bed, not departing, till this child had rendred her innocent soule, into the hands of Angells.

God had giuen to S. Francisca an Angell, not only to defend and guard [Page 182]her from euill spirits, but also to rule, and direct her in all her actions: he neuer left her one moment, and by especiall priuildge she inioyed the sight of him continually. He was of an incredible beauty, a countenance wondrous gratious, more white then snow, more ruddy then the rose, his eyes euer looking vp towards heauē, his armes crossed on his breast, his haire long and curled, more cleere & shining, then the polisht gold, his robe extended long vnto the ground, and was for the most part of a pure white colour, other times skyblew, sometimes also red. Frō his face pro­ceeded so great a light & brightnes, that it often dazeled her eyes to be­hold it, and sometimes there procee­ded such beames, that only by their brightnes, she saw to read her Mat­tins at midnight. Her Ghostly Father cōmaunded her once to disclose vnto him, the forme, and shape of her good Angell, which she did (holding her Angell by the little hād, & the whilst [Page 183]looking friendly vpon him) so pro­perly, and so particularly, that therby her Confessor easily perceaued his proportion, not to exceed a child of 5. or 6. yeares old.

If at any time the diuell molested her, either with horrible apparitions to afright her, or by transforming himselfe into some holy shape to de­lude her, her faithfull Guardiā Angell at the same instāt by the shaking and mouing of his golden locks, would cast forth such comfortable beames, as would make her soule at once both feareles and secure.

On the contrary, if in company of her parents or friends, there escaped from her either any inconsiderate thought, word, or deed, or if she were to sollicitous of her domesticall affai­res, presently she might behould this blessed spirit turne away his eyes frō her, wherby she became to reflect on herselfe, and carefull to examine her cōsciēce, & so by knowledge of those small faults that had caused his auer­sion, [Page 184]by this meanes she became daily more wary and vigilant ouer herselfe, euer renewing her purposes to amēd, wherby she recouered the sweet re­gard of her Angell. If any one in the company of this Saint forgot them selues in doing any thing that was vn­decent, she presently perceaued her Angell, as it were, in horrour of their sinnes and imperfections, to close his eyes with his hands.

A Gentlewoman, a deere friend and kinswoman of hers, called Van­nosia, being in a desperate sicknesse, had a great desire to eate of a Crab fish, after which Francis carefully see­king, and finding that in that season of the yeare they were impossible to be had, she put herselfe, in prayer, de­siring one from God, when behold in the sight of all the houshould, there fell one from the seeling of the Chā ­ber fresh and aliue, as if newly taken our of the sea, which she presently prepared for Vannosia, who eating thereof was not only satisfied of her desire, but also perfectly recouered of [Page 185]her sicknes.

She neuer dismissed any poore frō her gate without almes, and once in a great famine at Rome, Andreas her Father-in-law hauing made his proui­sion of an excellent tunne of wine, she being importuned by the poore, & not hauing wherwithall to satisfy them, gaue to all that came of the said wine as long as it lasted. Which when her Father-in-law vnderstood, he was much offended with her therefore, of which she hūbly excused herselfe, assuring him that his wine was not spent, but euen as he left it, which to cōfirme she wēt with him downe into the Cellar, where drawing of the same tunne, they found it full of most ex­cellent wine. Whervpon Andreas being not ignorant of her bestowing it, was confirmed of the miracle, and she acknowledginge Gods bounty, remayned therafter more animated to doe the workes of charity.

Another time hauing giuen to the poore a little quātity of corne which [Page 186]she had swept from the beames and rafters of her husbands granary, by chance returning thither not long after, she found there fourty measu­res of fine wheat, neither she nor any other, knowing how it came thither. She vsed to reserue for herselfe those hard and mouldy crusts & chippings of bread, which were appointed for the poore, and in the place therof, would secretly giue vnto them the best and purest bread, that was in the house.

Although all the actions of this Saints life, were full of rare examples of Humility, notwithstanding it ap­peared in nothing more, then in her art and holy subtility to conceale the frequent miracles that she wrought: for wheras she healed all sorts of di­seases by her only touch, yet she would withall apply a certaine oint­ment to the diseased, which she had made of Mariolane, or Rew, therby to cōceale the miracle, although this ointment for some diseases was alto­gether vnprofitable, and for many [Page 187]absolutely hurtefull. She neuer went vested but in course cloth, although her condition was no lesse then No­ble. She had a vineyard out of Rome, without S. Paules gate, from whence she vsed ordinarily to bring fagots made of vine branches (or of other wood which the place afforded) vnto Rome on her head, and there to di­stribute it amongst the poore, and of­tentimes she hath bene seene toge­ther with her Companion Vannosia, begging in the Citty from doore to doore, during a great famine, for the reliefe of poore people.

Her patiēce is incredible, in bearing as well the aduersities of the body as of the mind, for when her husband (for being engaged in the ciuill broy­les of the Citty) was banisht, and his goods cōfiscated, and her brother-in­law Paulinus sent likewise into a mise­rable exile, and her sonne I hon Bapti­sta, taken forcibly away from her for hostage, the spirit of this S. remained victorious and vndaunted, as well in [Page 188]the losse of her childrne as of her hus­band & friends. She praysed God, in the ruine of so rich & honorable a fa­mily so neerly concerning her as that of her husbāds did: in briefe, in all the assaults and afflictiōs with which the diuell assayled her patience, she got the victory, put him to shame & con­fusion, and euer praysed God.

She did eate ordinarily but once a day, and then very sparingly, and for the most part fed vpon hearbes or rootes, which she did eate only with salt. She abstayned both from wine & fish, and neuer did eate flesh but in great necessity, and then in very little quantity. She alwayes eate without appetite, for she had so lost and mor­tified her tast by her cōtinuall fasting and abstinēce, that the most sweetest things seemed to her bitter and vnsa­uory. When she was not with her hu­sband, she vsed to repose her body vpō a bed so straite, as she mightmore properly be said to sit and leane, then lye or rest thereon. She vsed to sleepe [Page 189]in her clothes, and that only but two houres in the night, and yet (contrary to the generall custome of Italy) she neuer slept in the day. She girded a sharpe hairecloth vnto her naked body, with a great girdle made of horse haire, that it might the more af­flict her: she disciplined herselfe ordi­narily with a discipline of six cordes, ech corde hauing a rowell at the end. She vsed also a hoope of iron, which she fastned so straitly vnto her skin, that it became almost buried in the flesh: which hoope & the discipline, her Ghostly Father commaunded to vse nomore, and which, together with her hairecloth, are to be seene at this day in her Monastery.

She made her a cup of a dead mās Scull, for to drinke that little water in, which she vsed for the sustenance of nature, both to diminish the little pleasure she might haue in drinking, by the hortor of that spectacle, as also to haue euer before her eyes, the me­mory and image of death. She had [Page 190]accustomed so often, and so violently to beate her brest, that it became hardned like brawne: & if it hapned, that she offended neuer so little, by any one part of her body, vpon the same part would she presently and pittifully reuenge her selfe. And if her tongue had offended, she would byte it till the bloud followed, and so in like manner on any other part or sense.

This Saint went customarily to confession euery Wedensday, and Sa­turday, and to Communion at the least once a weeke, she visited often the Churches of S. Peter in the Vati­can, S. Paules out of the walles of the Citty, our Blessed Ladies de Ara Caeli, Sancta Maria Nuoua, our Blessed Ladies on the other side of Tibur, and Saint Cecilies, where desiring one day to communicate, the Priest not appro­uing that married women should cō ­municate so often, gaue vnto her in place of the Blessed Sacramēt, an vn­consecrated host, by which S. Francis [Page 191]was deceaued of her expectation, but not by his imposture: for presently she feeling the want of those inte­teriour comforts of her soule, which she vsed to receaue by the presence of her spouse, knew he was absent, whereof (with a great and sensible feeling of the losse) she complained to Father Antony de Monte Sabellio, at that time her Ghostly Father, who thereupon examined the Priest, and he confessed the crime, and humbly begged pardon, and secrecie of the offence.

This Saint being one day retired with her Holy Companion Vanno­sia, to a hidden Oratory which she had made in her garden, vnder the shadow of an Arbor, being then the moneth of Aprill, it pleased God to shew them both how gratfull their retiremēt, as also their commu­nication together (which was about the withdrawing themselues wholy from the world) was vnto him, by his great bounty, in causing that from [Page 192]the Arbor there dropped downe at their feete ripe peares both faire and excellēt, although both out of seasō, & not the naturall fruite of that tree; which they hauing tasted, & finding wonderfull pleasant and delectable, bare the rest vnto their husbands, therby to stirre vp in thē greater de­uotion and confidence in God.

After the death of her husband, she retired her selfe into a Monastery, which she had so long and earnestly desired, wherin she attained to a most high degree of perfection, & became a most perfect patterne of all sanctity of life & holines: In so much, that after a while she was chosen Gouernesse of the whole house, & had many wor­thy disciples and Virgins vnder her, whome she instructed with such sweetnes, & feruour of spirit, hauing receaued a wonderfull new light, & learning from heauen, that she was a mirrour to thē all. She was very often rapt in extasie, and had therin such sweet and sensible communication [Page 193]with her Lord and spouse Christ Ie­sus, as was wonderfull; of whome she learned infinite mysteries, and be­came indued with so diuine and pro­pheticall a spirit, that God gaue vnto her the priuiledge of kowing the state of all such persons soules, as came in her presence.

And thus this Blessed S. heaping vp daily more and more merit, by her great Sanctity of life, she fell into her last sicknes the yeare of our Lord 1440. who by diuine reuelation was admonished of the day and houre of her death. Wherfore she making cō ­tinuall preparation therto, without any great sicknes of body, when the day came, she heard masse, and com­municated, and spent all the rest of the same day in spirituall communi­cation with her sisters and disciples, saying the houres of the Breuiary, Euensong, and Compline with them: and when the night grew on, she seemed to take her last leaue of them all, and setting her selfe as it were in [Page 194]prayer, being rapt into an extasy, and talking with her spouse, she pleasant­ly rendred her holy soule into the hands of her Creatour.

Whē it was knowne she was dead, there was such a wonderfull cōcourse of people to doe honour to her holy body, as was strange: and the mira­cles that were wrought therat, are sufficient to make a good volume by themselues. Her body was carried to our blessed Ladies new Church, neere vnto Campo Vaccino, commonly called S. Maria Nuoua, and there with great solemnity and veneration inter­red, wherat miracles haue bene daily euer since wrought, and the same is greatly honoured and reuerenced, by all the people of Rome euen vntill this day. She was Canonized for a S. by Pope Paul the fifth, the 29. day of May, in the yeare of our Lord 1606. Her feast is vsually celebrated vpon the ninth day of March.

THE LIFE OF THE HOLY Virgin S. Teresa of Iesus, of the Order of our Blessed Lady of Mont Carmell, & Foundresse of the Congregation of the discalced Carmelites.

IN the famous Citty of A­uila, in the Kingdome of Castile in Spaine, was borne the holy and glorious Saint Teresa, vpon the 28. of March, in the yeare of our Lord 1515. Her Father was called Alfonso Cepeda, and her mother Batrixe Ahumada. Both were noble, and excelled in all kind of piety and vertue; wherein with great care, they brought vp their children: & in particular this their yong and tender daughter.

She being about the age of seauen yeares, & contemplating of the ioyes, and glory of heauen, would oftē pro­nounce to her selfe these words, and say: O Eternity, Eternity, Eternity! v­sing [Page 196]also daily many prayers, espe­cially the Rosary, & (by her mothers instruction) made very deuout to our Blessed Lady.

In these her yong yeares, reading in the liues of Saints, the torments, & deaths of the Blessed martyrs, and the glory they had obtayned therby, she iudged that they had gotten heauen at an easy rate; wishing, that she might suffer the like paines, to attaine the like glory. And being inflamed thus with the loue of heauen, and of death for Christ his sake, she instilled the like desire into her yong brother, in such sort, that they determined ioint­ly, to goe together amōg the Moores, that at their hāds they might receaue the crowne of martyrdome. But be­ginning their iourney; they met with their vncle, who (by intercepting) hindred them, and brought thē back to their parents.

Their intention thus crossed, as they remained in their Fathers house, they passed their time often in the [Page 197]Garden, and Orchard, where they would build little houses, like Celles, and Hermitages, and though after the manner of childrē, yet it fore shewed what she should afterward accōplish, as inded she did.

At the age of 12. yeares her mother died, whereat being much afflicted, she presēted herselfe before an image of our B. Lady, desiring her to be her mother, whome she euer after found ready with her protection, helpe, and assistance in all her necessi­ties.

Now our Lord began to enkindle in this his seruant, the spirit of prayer and inward deuotion, in so much, that at the age of 20. yeares, she fully des­pised the world, and desired earnestly a Religious course of life; though her Father out of his extraordinary loue to her, would not consent therto. Yet she remembring the counsell of S. Hierome, brake violently from all, and entred into the Monastery of the Order of the Incarnation in Auila, [Page 198]where she passed her Nouiceship, with great alacrity and comfort.

Shortly after, she falling into an extreme sicknes, her Father was in­forced to couey her into the country, to the house of a phisitian for helpe. But it auayled not, for her infirmity did daily, and diuersly increase, and in such sort, that all being out of hope of her life, the last Sacraments were ministred vnto her, & she lay a dying. At which time she was in a traunce for foure dayes, and comming to her selfe againe, she complained of those, that had called her back from heauē, where she said, she had seene many mysteries, as also the saluation of her Father, & diuers other friendes which should be saued by her meanes, and many Monasteries which she was to erect, and her owne happy death: all which proued afterward true.

After her recouery, by her prayers, she obtayned health for a Religious person of their Monastery, and new amendment of life for a Priest, who [Page 199]was besotted with the dishonest loue of a woman, who had bewitched him with her diuellish inchantments, by a Copper Idoll which she had giuen him to weare, which this holy womā obtayning of him, cast into a riuer, whereby he was freed, and lead after­wards a vertuous life, and died bles­sedly. And for diuers others she ob­tained health, and many she reduced to vertuous life, by her example and prayers, and by the intercession of S. Ioseph, to whom she was very affe­ctionate, and deuout.

Being on a time at her prayers, she cast her selfe prostrate before a pi­teous Picture of our B. Sauiour, be­seeching his grace, and assistance, to protect her, from offending him any more: from which time euer after, she found continuall increase of spirituall comforts, and also amendement of her former life. For after this time, our Lord did communicate himselfe vnto her in diuers manners, aswell in inward and spirituall comforts, con­uersing [Page 200]& speaking to her soule, as also by outward and plaine apparitions; guiding, and directinge her with his counsell in all her affaires of difficul­ty, and speaking to her in his owne voice.

She being once surprised with an extasy, our Lord said to her; My will is that hereafter thou be not conuersant with men, but with Angells: which wordes made such impression in her, as from that time, she wholly abandoned the world, and all humane things, & ad­hered only to God. Our Lord him­selfe frō this time teaching and adui­sing her (her sanctity being suspected by others) what she should say, & ans­were, to stop their mouths, as she euer did. And our Lord said also to her: Feare not daughter, for I will not leaue thee. Frō which time forward, she seemed wholly vnited to God.

Being once in her deuotions, our B. Sauiour appeared to her againe, hauing with him S. Peter, & S. Paul and shewed to her first his hands shi­ning [Page 201]beautifully, and after that his face: and thus continued with her the space of three daies.

Also hearing Masse vpon S. Pauls day, our Blessed Sauiour appeared to her in his humanity very glorious. And these apparitions of our Sauiour at Masse time in diuers formes, conti­nued to her, more then three yeares. These visions being very frequent & increasing, her Confessor, and diuers others grew suspitious, that they might be illusions of the deuill, and she be deceiued: but our Lord him­selfe did with his presence and speach to her, both satisfy, and instruct her, how she should stop the slaunderous mouths of all. After this a Seraphim appeared to her with a flaming dart in his hand, wherwith he seemed to pierce her hart so, as from that time forward she remained wholy infla­med with the loue of God, and of which wound she felt at diuers times very sensible paine.

Once in a vision she was taken vp [Page 202]to heauen, where she saw such miste­ries, and fulnes of glory and ioyes, as cannot be expressed: Our Lord say­ing to her: Consider daughter, how great ioyes worldlings depriue thēselues of. These visions came to her very often, and in diuers kindes: As of the blessed Trini­ty, of our blessed Sauiour, of our B. Lady, of S. Peter and S. Paul, & of the Angels: yea, and these were not only in spirit, but her body also hath bene seene many times eleuated from the ground, vntill through her humility she desired of our Lord the cessation of that miraculous fauour, which he graunted her.

This holy Saint was fearfull her­selfe, least it might be a deceit of the deuill, and therfore was content to be narrowly sifted, and examined with all diligence, not only in her Confes­sions, but also in her life, particuler actions, and proceedings, which were searched, by very many Fathers of the Society of Iesus, and almost by fourty other principall, and the most [Page 203]famous learned men in Spaine, and other Countries, all graue, and reue­rend, and the best spirituall Maisters then liuing: who all allowed and ap­prooued her life, & her proceedings for good and vertuous, free from il­lusion, or deceit.

After this, the holy Saint beginning to build a Monastery, our B. Lady & S. Ioseph appeared to her, and pro­mised to protect, and assist her, which did encourage her so much, as though she found many difficulties, yet she brought at last to good effect and fi­nished the same. Adding to their for­mer rules, some others concerning Mentall Prayer, and Meditation, all which were approued by the Popes Holines. And at the end, our Blessed Sauiour appeared to her, and set a crowne vpon her head, as a reward of her former trauailes.

She founded diuers other Mona­steries after this to the number of seauenteene well knowne, as in Me­dina del Campo, in Duruell, in Ma­laga, [Page 204]in Valladolid, in Toledo, in Pa­strana, in Salamanca, in Alua de Tor­nes, in Segouia, in Beas, in Seuill, in Carauaque, in Xare, in Palencia, in Sorie, in Granada, in Burgos. Besides these, she founded diuers others, as namely, fifteene for the discalced Brothers, all well knowne in Spaine.

In all these her Monasteries she caused a reformation, with addition of many good, and spirituall consti­tutions, all approoued by her Supe­riours, and confirmed by the Pope. And during her life time (with her infatigable labour, and continuall trauell from one to another) she go­uerned them all, in most exact obser­uance of their rules, and exēplar life; to the great edification of all, & amē ­dement of many in the way of more vertuous life.

She wrote foure bookes, One, of her owne life, by commaund of her Ghostly Father, one, of the way of Per­fection, one, Of the Foundation of her Monasteries. [Page 205]And afterward three other bookes, contayning relations of her life, and of deuout prayers. All which said bookes, being approoued both by the Inquisition, and the graue, & lear­ned Father aforesaid, her Cōfessours, with diuers others, and being sound and Catholike Doctrine, and full of diuine learning and wholesome pre­cepts, were thought good to be tran­slated into diuers languages, that o­thers reading her holy life, & follow­ing her coūsells, might profit therby, and increase in vertue, to the saluatiō of their soules, as very many haue done, by her meanes, as was before shewed vnto her in a vision.

The vertues of this Saint, were very many and manifest, and great store of examples there be therof in euery kind, though for breuity sake, I will but touch, and only name a few of them. First she was so carefull in ob­seruance of the Commandements of Almighty God, as her Confessour thought, she neuer committed any [Page 206]mortall sinne. Her obedience was ex­traordinary to all her Superiours, and Prelats, in all things, both humane, & diuine. The guift of Chastity, giuē her by our Blessed Sauiour, was such, as she was surnamed by her Confes­sors: The treasure of Virginity. And the purity of her mind appeared well, by thevncorruptiō of her body after her death, and by the modest obseruances she appointed for her Nunnes, as the couering of their faces with a veile, their strict in closure, their silence, and other the like.

She had a great loue to pouerty, praising it, and commending it to her Nūnes, & that not only in their holy estate, in hauing their meanes without certainty of maintenance, and their house without rent, but also in their habit, which she chose to be very meane. Yet principally she commen­ded and preferred inward pouerty of spirit, wherin she was a rare, and ex­emplar patterne to all.

In taming of her flesh, she was very [Page 207]rigorous, and austere, for besides her spare diet, she vsed sharpe disciplines, sometimes with cordes, with keyes, with Iron chaines, wearing cōtinual­ly a hairecloth next her skin, and or­dayninge her Order to be one of the strictest in the Church of God. And if any meate was made something more dainty by the fire, as either ro­sted, or baked, she would refuse it, saying: Meate is to nourrish our bodies, not to delight the taste. Her sleepe was sel­dome aboue three houres in a night, all the rest she spent in prayer.

In humility she excelled, giuing many worthy testimonies thereof, in diuers places both at Rome and abroad, seruing all the rest of the si­sters (by her good will) in the lowest, ad basest Offices in the house. Her courage was great, as appeared by her continuall trauells, and troubles, in erecting Monasteries, which yet at last she alwayes brought to good effect: Besides the often apparition: of deuills, which she feared not, but [Page 208]euer chased a way from her, euen as flies.

Such was her admirable patience in all crosses, and afflictions, as she tooke great ioy, & comfort in suffring them, hauing an ardent desire to die for Christ his sake, and hauing these wordes often in her mouth: O Lord graunt me either to die, or at least to suffer for thy sake. In her body, she suffered long and grieuous sicknesses and in­firmities, besides her continuall tra­uaile, and toyle. In her reputation & honour she suffered great detriment, and no lesse inward spirituall cōbats and desolatiōs in her soule. To speake of the wonderfull Prudence of this holy Saint, in gouerning of her many Monasteries, of her simplicity, & sin­cere vertue in religion, and aboue all, her extraordinary deuotion to the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar, and her other vertues, wherein she did ex­cell, and was so exemplar, it would truly fill whole volumes.

The same may be said of her di­uine [Page 209]contemplation, of her eminent Faith, of her Hope, of her enflamed Loue to God: of her Charity to wards her neighbour, of her forcible, & per­suasiue vertue of speach, her grace of interpretation of Scriptures, and Pro­phesy, and in discerning of spirits. And for all these her vertues, seruice, and loue vnto our Lord, it may well cause admiration in vs to consider his reci­procall loue, and his continuall, high and diuine fauours donevnto her: His often consolations to her soule, and inward spirituall apparitions, as also corporally and frequently in diuers formes and manners, instructing, and directing her from time to time, how she should proceed, in all her affaires of importance, best to his liking and seruice: As also dictating to her with his owne voice, the very words she should speake, to satisfy doubts, and answere all obiections.

She had an extraordinary guift in healing of the sick of all infirmities by her prayers, and working other mira­cles [Page 210]so vsually, & as I may say fami­liarly, as it seemed our Lord neuer denied her any thing that she reque­sted of him. The aged, & weake body of this holy woman, almost spent and worne out with continuall trauell frō one Monastery to another, being now at Burgos, and foreseing her end approaching (which she had prophe­sied 8. yeares before) hastened to­wards Auila, where she was borne, desiring to end her daies therein her first owne House. But reposing (as she trauelled) at the house of the Du­chesse of Alua, she was enforced there to make stay, partly by her importu­nity, as also by reason of a feuer she had which continued with her, & in­creased so incessantly, that at the end of three dayes, hauing receaued all the rites of the Holy Catholike Church, recommended her selfe to God, with many deuout prayers, and giuen many holesome precepts and admonitions to those that were pre­sent, to their great cōfort, & edifica­tion, [Page 211]with a ioyfull, and peaceable se­renity of mind, she sweetly yeelded vp her soule to her beloued spouse & Sauiour, vpon the 4. day of October, being the feast of S. Francis, in the 68. yeare of her age, & 47. of her being religious.

It pleased our Lord to shew the holines of this Saint by some signes at her death, & by many miracles after. For at the instant of her death, a cer­taine Religious woman, saw two starres to descend vpon her Cell. An­other sister saw a bright starre shin­ning ouer her Monastery, & another starre at the window of the chamber where she died. A Religious man in Valladolid saw (at the instant of her death) the heauens open, and a glo­rious way prepared, wherby a soule ascended. The prioresse of Segouia, smelt in her Cell a most sweet odour at the instāt of her death, with an ex­traordinary light. Another Prioresse in Paris saw our Sauiour ascend to heauen with great glory, & many An­gells [Page 212]with him. Another sister saw a white doue to ascend frō her mouth. All her Conuent at the instant saw a great light, and felt a very sweet smell, fillinge the house: as also from her habit, and all things that she had touched.

The body of this holy Saint lying faire, fresh, and liuely, as though she had bene yet liuing, a certaine Reli­gious mā came, and touched with her handes his head, and eyes, and pre­sently recouered of two infirmities which he had in those parts. Another Religious woman kissing her seete, recouered her smelling which she had lost. And that night after her death, she appeared to diuers Religious per­sons.

After that her body had bene by many and with great deuotiō visited, she was with great sollemnity, & due reuerence enterred. Her habit, and all things that she vsed, be kept still in Alua, with great reuerence for holy Reliques, and many miracles haue [Page 213]bene wrought by them.

This holy Saint appeared to diuers after her death: and first, to one Mo­ther Antonetta, in Granada, she wing her the glory that she was in, and en­couraging her in her vertuous course of life. Also to a Religious woman in Auila, she appeared in great glory. She appeared also in Segouia (with a sweet odour) in the midest of the Quier, with a rich crowne on her head. And to the Earle of Osorne, to the Bishop, and diuers others there.

The miracles after her death were many. As the miraculous incorruptiō of her body. The pleasant odour, and sweetnes therof, filling the place where it was kept, as also of her ha­bit, cloathes, and all things she had touched. By which (being religious­ly kept) many of sundry infirmities were healed. Also there was a pretious oyle, or liquor, that distilled conti­nually from her body, and frō euery small part therof, though separated a sunder, whereby many miracles were [Page 214]done, as appeareth by one of her hāds that was carried by the Prouinciall of her Order to Lisbone, and by one of her fingers at Malaga. Also a linnē cloth died with her bloud, continued pure, and fresh, wherby many mira­cles were done, in diuers places, and in diuers manners.

Don Aluarez de mendoza Bishop of Alua, hauing in his life time built a faire chappell, with a Tombe therin for himselfe, an (by a fore-contract with the Prouinciall of her Order) another by it for this holy Saint, and hearing now of her death and buriall, made suite iointly with the people of the towne to the Prouinciall for her body, which not being obtayned, she was translated to Auila in the moneth of Nouēber 1585. with great sollem­nity, and ioy. But the Duke of Alua, and Ferdinand of Toledo Prior of S. Ihons, made suit to Pope Sixtus V. for her returne to Alua where she died, which he graunted, and so with greater ioy, and applause she was [Page 215]brought back to Alua the 23. of Au­gust 1586. where she remayneth, and God by meanes of this his seruāt doth worke many miracles, euen to this present: as is daily seene by those that be deuout vnto her, and frequent her sepulcher; the which hath bene adorned & enriched with many great guiftes, and pretious Iewells, of many of the greatest Princes, and Religious Bishops, and Persons of Spaine, and Christendome. And after all due di­ligence, and examinations of her life, and miracles made, as in such cases appertayneth, she was Canonized for a Saint by Pope Gregory the XV. vpō the 12. of March 1622. But her feast is celebrated vpon the 4. day of Octo­ber.

To rehearse the manifold exāples in euery of her seuerall vertues, the frequent apparitions of our Blessed Sauiour, and other Saints, her visiōs, raptes, and miracles, accordinge to the truth thereof, and her desert, I should neuer be able to say inough, [Page 216]all the aforesaid thinges being so cer­taine, and so well knowne in Spaine, as they be yet fresh in memory, and many are yet liuing that knew her well, and were present, and eye wit­nesses to all that which is here writtē of her. And he that shall read her life written by herselfe at the commaūd of her Ghostly Father (trāslated late­ly into English) and also her life writtē by Brother Ihon of S. Ierome, and Brother Ihon of Iesus Maria, of her owne Order, from whence this is extracted may be there further sa­tisfied with examples in euery kind: these things being heere only tou­ched for breuity sake, as a taste, out of aboundance. God graunt that we fol­lowing her heauenly documents, & instructions, & imitating hervertuous life, may by her intercession merit to come to that heauenly glory, which she, with her deerespouse Iesus, now enioyeth. Amen.

THE LIFE AND VERTVES OF Blessed Lewis Gonzaga of the Society of Iesus: taken out of his history written at large by Virgilius Ceparius of the same Order.

BLESSED Lewis Gon­zaga was borne in that part of France which lyeth beyōd the Alpes, at the Chastle of Ca­stilion in the Diocese of Brixia, in the yeare of our Lord 1568. of Ferdinand Prince of the Empire, and Marques of the aboue named Castilion, and of Martha Tana-Sanrenia no lesse No­ble, as the Inhabitāts about the Alpes can testify, and vertuous, as appeareth in that euen from the first day of her mariage, she began to pray like an­other Anne, not for feare of barren­nes, but for the glory of God, that it would please our Lord to send her a sonne, that in some Religion might [Page 218]wholy dedicate himselfe to his holy seruice. And so it seemed that God Almighty therfore vouchsafed to sēd her this Samuel, permitting him to haue a dangerous entrance into this world, that he might the sooner marke him for his owne, with the character of Baptisme, which by the Phisitians aduise was giuē him before he was halfe come forth of his mo­thers wombe; but the danger of this passage at lenght by theintercession of our B. Lady was taken away, al­though for a space there remayned some feare and doubt, whether he were aliue or dead. For he lay still without mouing for the space of an houre, whē, to shew that he was aliue, he gaue one little cry only, & so gaue ouer, and neuer vsed to cry any more as other children are wont to doe; a presage doubtlesse of his future be­hauiour and conditions, which were alwayes most gentle, mild, and cour­teous.

After his mother had brought him vp in all piety and feare of God, vnto [Page 219]the age of fiue yeares or thereabout, his Father desiring to traine vp his sonne in warlike affaires frō his very cradle, tooke him away with him to a towne called, Casall the greater, in the Territory of Milan, where when­soeuer he mustered his souldiers, he made him march before them in light armour, with a little speare vp­on his shoulder. From hence the Marques his Father being to march with his army to Tunis a Citty in A­frike, sent Lewis backe to Castilion, where growing now towards seauen yeares of age, at which time children begin to haue discretion to discerne betweene good & bad, he withdrew himselfe by little and little from the conuersation of souldiers, and began to apply himselfe to the seruice of God, saying euery day at home vp­on his knees the prayers which are, The Daily Exercise, together with the seauen Penitentiall psalmes, and the office of our Blessed Lady, with so great feruour and care that he neuer [Page 220]omitted the same were he neuer so sicke: and was wont to call that, the time of his conuersion.

When the Marques came home, and saw his sonnes warlike audaci­ty, changed into a pious and prudent modesty, he reioyced exceedingly to see how wise and discret an heire he should haue to succeed him in the gouernement of his subiects. But Lewis his intentions were leuelled at a farre higher marke, which he was not afraid now and then to sig­nify vnto his mother; who albeit she desired nothing more, then that one of her sonnes should become a Reli­gious man, yet was she halfe afraid to heare her eldest sonne and heire, talke of taking that course of life, much more to persuade him to it.

Not long after, the Marques vp­on some occasion going to visit the Duke of Florence, tooke both Lewis and his younger brother with him; and there set them both to schoole, to the end, that in that Great Dukes court, they might not only learne [Page 221]good manners, but other sciences also. Lewis at the age of nine yeares being left there by his father, began to exercise himselfe in all kinde of vertues, especially of Chastity and purity, wherof, out of the great de­uotion he had conceaued towards our Blessed Lady, he made a vow to keepe the same perpetually, before an Image of hers which the whole Citty hath in great deuotion. He heard Masse euery day, and besides masse vpon holy dayes, he alwayes was present at Euensong. And al­though he knew not yet how to me­ditate, yet the neuer let passe the dayly Exercise, and other Offices which we haHe spoken of before, ri­sing to say them euery morning, as soone as it was day. Heere finally he began to wayne himselfe from all kinde of pleasures, and pastimes es­chewing all conuersation that might giue him occasion to speake the least idle word; for he had now begun to frequent the Sacrament of Pennance [Page 222]with much feruour. And so euer af­ter he was wont to call Florence, the mother of his piety and deuotion.

Two yeares being now past in Florence, Lewis and his brother ta­king their leaue of the great Duke, with Order from the Marques, went to liue at Mantua, where he came to take so great delight in abstinence and fasting, which was for a time prescribed him for the health of his body, that afterwardes to the great domage of the same, he could not be dissuaded from vsing still the same medicine for the good of his soule. Here now as he began to thinke with himselfe, how he might make all his inheritance ouer to his Bro­ther, and take vpon himselfe an Ec­clesiasticall kind of life, being called home from the heates of Mantua at the age of twelue yeares, he receiued of our Lord the gift of prayer and contemplation, and by aduise of Saint Charles Borromeus Cardinall, then visiting that Diocesse, he began [Page 223]to frequent the holy Communion, with exceeding great deuotion. But his stomacke now with praying and fasting was growne so weake, that he was scarce able to disgest any meate at all. Wherfore his Father sent for him to Montserrat, to see if by any meanes he could draw him a little from that austerity, that he might recouer his health. But Lewis there for the space of halfe a yeare could take pleasure in nothing but in his former exercises, vsing for his pastime only to visit holy places and Monasteries, flying from the conuersation of all but Religious mē, by whose examples he was so ef­ficaciously moued, that he fully pur­posed to take vpon him some Reli­gious habit or other, although, being not yet full thirteene yeares old, he had not yet determined of what Or­der he would be.

In the meane time being returned home againe with his Father to Castilion, he went forward excee­dingly [Page 224]in all kind of vertues, es­pecially in extraordinary abstinence and mortification. From hence not long after as he trauailed into Spaine in company of his Father, and other noble Italians, he neuer omitted his accustomed contempla­tions and holy Exercises. But he so behaued himselfe for the space of two yeares and more that he liued in the King of Spaines Court, that no Prouerbe was so much in the mouthes of the chiefest Coutiers, as that the yonger Marques of Castilion, see­med not to be made of flesh and bloud. Such progresse had he made in the con­tempt of all worldly honours and pleasures.

Heere how Lewis being at the age of fifteene yeares and an halfe began to feele in himselfe so ardent a desire of forsaking the world, that after many dayes, commending the matter to God Almighty in his prayers, it pleased his diuine Maie­sty by a voyce from heauen, to giue [Page 225]him a particular vocation to the So­ciety of Iesus. Which thing his Ghostly Father vnderstanding, ap­proued his good intention, so that it might be put in execution with the Marques his Fathers leaue. Where­vpon Lewis hauing first told his Mo­ther (who with a ioyfull hart soone offered vp her Samuel to gods holy seruice) without delay went vnto his Father, and with all humility and reuerence declared his mind vnto him. At which the Marques was so enraged, that he bad him ei­ther get him gone, and talke no more to him of any such matter, or he would cause him to be whipt pre­sently. To whome Lewis very mo­destly answered: Would to God I might receaue such a benefit, as to suffer that for his sake, and so departed from him. And after a long triall by which he was vndoubtedly con­firmed it was from God, and seeing his Father still remayned inexora­ble, he going one day to the Col­ledge [Page 226]of the Society, (as at other times he was wont to doe,) to visit the Fathers, he desired his younger brother and the rest of his acquain­tance that were with him, to goe their wayes home, and leaue him, for that he did not meane to stir one foot out of that place.

Now, the Marques his Father seeing the firme resolution of his Sonne, with much a doe persuaded him not to enter into Religion in Spaine, but to stay till they retur­ned home into Italy, and that there he should haue his owne will ac­complished. As soone as they were arriued in Italy, Lewis claimeth pro­mise of his Father, but he thin­king by that and other delayes, to make his vocation at length wax cold, answered that he could by no meanes condescend vnto his re­quest, before that he and his brother, had saluted all the Princes of Italy. Which Lewis hauing performed, re­turning home found his Father more [Page 227]obstinate against him then euer he was before. In so much that af­ter he had indeuoured all he could, by meanes of diuers graue Bishops and Prelates to dissuaded him from that course of life, finding at last to be true which a certaine Car­dinall, whom amongst others the Marques had sent vnto him, after­wards confessed. Diaboli partes apurl hunc Adolescentem agendas mibi impo­suerunt. Eas, quia necesse erat, quanto potui studio & ingenio sustinui. Verum nec hilum profeci, stat immotus: percelli nequit. They made me play the deuills part and tempt this yong man with all the wiles and allure­mentes which I could possibly in­vent. But I preuayled nothing. He stands altogether immoueable and inuin­cible: he cannot be daunied. After (I say) that the Marques saw the matter came to that passe hauing sent for Lewis and examined him by him­selfe with an angry countenance, & sharp words as he lay in bed sicke of [Page 228]the goute, he biddeth him get him out of his sight.

But hearing, that his words had made him leaue the house & recollect himselfe in a Monastery of Francis­cans, he sent for him home againe and did so bitterly reprehend him for it, that Lewis euery day, as one in great anguish and trouble of mind, to see his Father so to crosse his holy intentions, casting himselfe downe prostrate before a Crucifix with many teares and cruell disci­plines, began to act such a bloudy Tragedy vpon himselfe, as those which beheld him thorough the chinkes of his doore, could not en­dure so pittifull a sight. In so much that the Marques himselfe not be­lieuing others report, being brought vnto the doore in his bed, and seeing it mith his owne eyes, was so amazed and moued to pitty, that without any more resistance, he wrote vnto Scipio Gonzaga then Patriarch of Hierusalem, to offer [Page 229]his Sonne vnto Father Claudius A­quauiua, Generall of the Society of Iesus, who willingly accepted of him, and after admitted him by a letter, which was the answere to one that Lewis had familiarly before written vnto him, to thanke him for so great a benefit.

But this was not the end of Lewis his persecution; for the Mar­ques not content with employing him for nine monethes after, about certaine affaires at Milan, which Lewis, by reason of his Fathers sicknes, and to giue him the grea­test satifaction he could, with no lesse speed then prudence dispat­ched; not content I say with this (when the writings and all were come, with letters patents from the Emeperour, so that Lewis see­med to haue nothing else to doe but by deliuering the writtings to his brother to desinherit himselfe, and so depart in peace) he came to Millane, and raysed another [Page 230]tempest against him, so much the more terrible, by how much he himselfe (besides many others) did sundry tymes more earnestly plead his owne cause before him, with such speeches as we may imagine the passionate affection of a Fa­ther, ouerflowing with tender loue towards such a sonne, could affoard.

But seeing all his labour to be in vaine, he caused himselfe to be carried in a chaire into the house of the Society of Iesus, and there sending for a graue Father of ac­count in that Citty, he declared the matter vnto him, concluding that he was determined to stand to his iudgement, vpon condition that he would there in his presence ex­amine his sonnes vocation, and vrge him with all the reasons he could deuise, to auert him from his pur­pose. To be short Lewis was cal­led, and the Father in all sinceri­ty, and with all seuerity set vpon [Page 231]him, and did the best he could. But Lewis gaue so good satisfaction to all the doubts and difficulties which were opposed against him, that the Father after great admira­tion burst forth into this verdict: Aequum postulas, Domine Aloysi, aequum postulas; néque dubium ess potest quin sit vt dicis. Mihi quidem stimulos admo­uists, neque vllum praeterta quaerendi lo­cum reliquisti. Which is as much as to say, as that there could be no more doubt, but Lewis his petition was iust and reasonable.

The Marques also being for this time fully persuaded to grant the same, returned home to Castilion, and Lewis presently, (all thinges being put in good order,) followed him: and after he had with an vn­daunted courage passed one brunt more of his Fathers fury, at last taking his leaue of Cast lion (all the people with many teares lamen­ting their owne losse, and excee­ding sory for that they were not [Page 232]whorthy of so good and gracious a Lord) he departed with his Fa­ther to Mantua: where in presence of other Noble men that were to be witnesses of the deede, hauing renounced his title of Marques, and cast from him all other orna­ments and toakens of that digni­ty, he went immediatly, and the same day put on the habit of the Society, which he had before pre­pared and brought ready with him. And hauing spent a whole day in taking leaue of his father and mo­ther, the next morning he tooke his ioyfull iourney towardes Rome. He was scarce lighted from his horse in Rome, when going immediat­ly to the house of the professed Fa­thers, he cast himselfe downe pro­strate at the Generals feete, pro­fessing and acknowledging to be his Subiect. Then with his leaue, he went to visite the holy places, to salute his friends, and other Princes there, and to receiue the [Page 233]Popes benediction. All which being dispatched, vpon Saint Catherine the Virgin and martyrs day, at the age of seauenteene yeares, eight monethes, and six dayes, he entred into the Nouiciate of the Society of Iesus at S. Andrews in Rome, with as great ioy and iubily of heart, as if he had entred into a paradise of all delights and pleasures, giuing immortall thankes to God, for brin­ging him out of Aegypt, into that Land of Promise, flowing with milke and hony.

Heere now Lewis hauing passed thorough all kind of exorcises in Humility and Obedience, with great admiration of all, almost the space of a yeare, was sent to Na­ples to recouer his health, and to make an end of the course of Phi­losophy, which he had begun at Mi­lan. But after halfe a yeare, finding by experience that that place, nor ayre agreede with his health, he was called backe againe to Rome, and [Page 234]sent vnto the Romane Colledge, where he defended his Philosophy publikly with great applause, and so proceeded to heare his higher courses of diuinity. After he had liued now two yeares in the So­ciety, vpon Saint Catherines day, being the day on which first he en­tred, he also made the three vowes of Pouerty, Chastity and Obe­dience, as the custome is. For albeit he had not spent all this time in the Nouiciate, yet God by his holy grace did so supply in his soule the want of that time, which the infirmity of his bodye tooke from him, that wheresoeuer he liued all his life after, he remayned still as it were a No­uice.

The next yeare vpon the eight abd twentith day of Ianuary, he began to take Ecclesiasticall Orders, and by the 26. of Frebruary he had receaued one after another, vpon seuerall dayes, all those which are called the Minores, or inferiour [Page 235]Orders. The yeare following, he was sent to Castilion and Mantua, to compose certaine contentions and debates betweene his Brother the Marques (his Father being now deceased) and the Duke of Mantua, which if he had not, by the great authority, which for his sanctity he alwayes had amongst them, taken vp and decided, would haue cost much bloudshed on both sides.

The next yeare he withdrew him­selfe, with order from his Supe­riours, to Milan, where it pleased God to reueale vnto him, that the houre of his death approached, with which reuelation he returned ioy­fully to Rome, with his thoughts so fixed on heauen, so dead to the world and to all worldly thinges, that he appeared rather as one dead, then liuing: his only sight stirred vp deuo­tion in others, and his very wordes incited his hearers to the loue of God: In fine, he was in the estima­tion [Page 236]of all, aliuely patterne of all per­fection.

In the yeare 1591. the Citty of Rome was sorely visited with a mor­tality, by reason of the multitude of poore people that were infor­ced by a former famine, to repaire thither for to begge their sustenance, at which time the Generall and o­thers of the Society, inforcinge themselues to the ayde and succour of the poore, besides the large almes that they daily procured for them, they laboured the founda­tion of an Hospitall to relieue and cure the sicke, which were in great number visited, with sundry dan­gerous and infectious diseases, where those of the Society attended them with great diligence and charity; of which number Lewis by much im­portunity obtained of his Superiours to be one, where he serued the sicke with wonderfull deuotion, humility, and charity, exercising himselfe euer most willingly about those that were [Page 237]the most loathsome and dangerous­ly infected. In this imployment, he together with many others of the Society, got that infection wherof afterwards he died, which he fee­ling, and knowing that our Lord was pleased to doe him that fauour, to deliuer him from the prison of his body, and to take him to rest, he reioyced exceedingly, giuing God most humble and harty thanks for so great a benefit, and the more, for calling him, in such an age and before he was Priest, whereby he esteemed himselfe secure of rendring accompt, either for the vnprofita­ble expence of many yeares, or the abuse of so great a dignity. He made a generall Confession, and hauing receaued his Viaticum, and Ex­treme Vnction, he attended the houre of his death: neuerthelesse it pleased our Lord that the seauenth day of his sicknesse the fury of it ceased, and there remayned only a gentle feuer which held him three [Page 238]monthes, in all which time he neuer willingly entertayned discourse of any thing but of heauen, and heauen­ly thinges, in so much that we may say (as it were) he had sent his hart before him.

He being by little and little sore weakened by the feuer, it pleased our Lord to reueale vnto him the howre of his decease: wherupon with great signes of ioy, he said Te Deum laudamus, and tould those that were about him, that he should dye on the Octaue of the feast of the Blessed Sacrament, notwithstan­ding on Corpus Christi day, as also during the Octaue, he seemed so well to recouer, that on the Octaue day they said vnto him. That he should rather thinke of his recoue­ry, then of his death that day, since there appeared no danger at all. To whome he quietly answered: The day is not yet past, I shall assuredly dye this night. The euening being come, the Prouinciall came to visit him, [Page 239]who demaunded of him how he did? Lewis answered. I goe Father. Whit­her said the Prouinciall? To heauen (answered Lewis) I trust by the great mercy of God, if my sinnes doe not hinder me.

Pope Gregory the fourteenth, hearing that he was in the Agony of death, sent vnto him his bene­diction, with a plenary Indulgence of all his sinnes, and drawing to­wards his end, he desired earnest­ly to take a discipline, or at least (by reason of his owne weakenes) that one might be giuen him vpon his backe: which being denyed, he humbly beseeched leaue of Father Prouinciall that he might dye vpon the ground, so great was his fer­uour and desire of suffering, euen then when his sicknesse had rendred him almost incapable of sufferinge. In briefe, after that he had taken leaue of the Fathers and Brothers of the Colledge with many teares, he entred into long and sweet interiour [Page 240]Colloquies with our Lord, kissing often a Crucifix which he held in his handes, with his eyes sixed thereon, and often calling vpon the holy name of Iesus, he rendred his soule to rest on Thursday at night, being the Oc­taue of the B. Sacrament, the one & twentith of Iune, in the yeare of our Lord 1591. and in the three and twen­tith yeare of his age, three monthes and eleauen daies, after he had bene of the Society fiue yeares, and almost seauen monthes.

He was interred in the Chutch of the Annuntiation in the Roman Colledge, with so great concourse of people, not only of those of the So­ciety and Schollers, but also from the Court and Citty of Rome, that not without great difficulty could his body be buried, euery one striuing to kisse his handes, and for some relique of him; some cutting his haire, others his garments, others euen his fingers ends. He was put into a Coffin, and laid in the Chappell of the Crucifix, [Page 241]and from thence in the yeare of our Lord 1598. he was remoued to a more eminent place of the same Church; finally the thirteenth day of May in the yeare 1605. he was solemnely translated with musicke, and lights, into the great Chappell of our Bles­sed Lady in the same Church, and there placed in the wall neere the right side of the Altar. This transla­tion was caused by reason of the many miracles that it pleased out Lord to worke by him, in diuers places, and the multitude of people that came dayly to his Tombe to of­fer vp theire vowes, which excee­dingly increased the deuotion of the people, and the concourse to his B. Reliques; which was a thing so cele­brated at Rome, that Pope Paul the fifth, in the month of Septēber 1607. gaue order, that an inquisition might be made of his life and miracles for his Canonization.

Among the many miracles that haue bene wrought by the intercessiō [Page 242]of Blessed Lewis, there be forty and foure approued and recorded, which he hath done in the State of Castiliō, his owne proper Countrey and pa­trimony, where his Image is placed on an Altar with twelue lamps before it continually burning, besides the other innumerable lights which the people daily offer vnto his honour, and before the same are hanged on the walles more then three hundred votiue Tablets, offered in remem­brance, and for deuotion, of his mi­racles.

Our Lord in diuers other places hath likewise shewed forth his won­ders by the meanes of this blessed Saint, rendring health to diuers dan­gerously sicke of feuers, and other diseases, restoring the blind to sight, the deafe to hearing, helping of wo­men in the perill of child-birth, with many others, which are all at large recorded in the Booke of his life, out of which I will only rehearse briefly these few that follow.

In the yeare 1593. his mother being in danger of her life, hauing receaued the holy Sacraments of Communiō, and Extreme Vnction, her sonne ap­peared resplendent and glorious vnto her, with the comfort of whose pre­sence she presently began to amend, and in few dayes recouered her per­fect health, which was the first mira­cle that it pleased God to worke by him after his death.

The Duke of Mantua, comming to Rome in the yeare 1605. visited with great deuotion the tombe of his Co­sen Lewis, and had there giuen him (by his Brother Francis Gonzaga, thē Embassadour for the Emperour) a re­lique of his, with which returning by Florence, to Mantua, he was taken with a grieuous paine in his knee, which had long & sorely vexed him, to which applying this holy Relique of B. Lewis, he was presently cured: the which was testified by his owne letter, written backe to Rome to the Marques his Brother.

He had likewise the guift of Pro­phesy, & foretould vnto his mother, that his Brother Francis (who was the youngest of his Brothers) should be the Rayser vp and glory of their House, which proued true; as likewise diuers other things which he fore­tould.

Who seeth not in this life, and ad­mireth not the bounty and liberality of our Lord, who had so filled with his grace, this Blessed young man, whome he made choiceof, euen from his mothers wombe, to render glo­rious both in heauen and earth? How great spirit in so young age, what re­collection in so many troubles, what mortifications in the miedest of plea­sures and delightes, what humility in greatnesse, what misprise of all world­ly thinges, and earnest seeking after heauenly? To what greater degree of perfection can a soule ariue in this life (beyond the preseruatiō of the grace receaued in Baptisme) thē not to feele in their body the tentations of the [Page 245]flesh, not to suffer in prayer distrac­tiōs of thoughts, and to liue on earth, as an Angell in heauen? All which vertues are apparāt to haue bene emi­nent in this blessed young mā, whose life we all ought to imitate, to the end that imitating his vertues, we may be also made partakers of his rewards and merits.

He was Beatified by Pope Paul the fifth, by whome leaue was also graū ­ted to say masse of him. His feast is kept by the Fathers of the Society of Iesus, with great solemnity; & plena­ry Indulgence, and in the Diocesse of Mantua, is for the most part, kept holy.

THE LIFE AND VERTVES of B. Stanislaus Kostka, of the Society of Iesus, abridged out of his life, written by Peter Rybadeneira and others, of the same Society.

BLESSED Stanislaus was borne in the King­dome of Polonia, in the yeare of our Lord 1550. in a Castle of his ancestours called Kostkouo, His Fa­thers name was Iohn Kostka, his mo­thers Margaret Keysban, both Illu­strious, and of the principall houses of that Kingdome, but much illustrated by this, that neuer any of that house was tainted with heresy. Out of their family haue issued diuers Lords, Pala­tines, Electors, Senators, Captaines, Bishops, and other of great dignity in that kingdome. God blest them with diuers children, and amongst others with this Stanislaus, who hauing lau­dably passed his infancy at home, was [...]t by his Father, being the but thit­teene [Page 247]yeares of age, together with an­other of his Brothers, elder then he, to Vienna in Austria (where the Empe­rour Maximilian, at that time kept his Court) for to study there, in the Col­ledge of the Fathers of the Society of Iesus, which was at that time very fa­mous for the education of youth.

Stānislaus studied so diligently there, being of an excellent wit, that he surpassed all the rest of his School­fellowes, of whome for his gentlenes & modesty he was generally beloued. Euery morning before he went to schoole, and euery euening after he came from schoole, he vsed to make his prayers in the Church of the So­ciety. He auoyded all ill company, all conuersation with Libertines, or any other thing that had not the odour of deuotion. With all diligence he was a great louer of silence, and neuer spake but what he had first well weighed & considered. He was modestly cheer­full, and cheerfully modest, & affable. He conuersed most willingly with [Page 248]those that were simple and sincere: he was very compassionate, and succoured to his power, all those that were in neede or extremity: he was euer the first vp (of his school­fellowes) in the morning: he conten­ted not himselfe with hearing one masse daily, nor on feasts with fewer then all he could possibly heare. He went meanely cladde, and for all the cold season (which in those parts is very bitter in the winter) he neuer wore gloues, nor would euer vse the helpe of any seruant, vnlesse when he was commaunded by his maister, or brother. Almost all his Orations and Declamations that he made, in the exercise of Eloquence, were in the praise of the glorious Virgin Mary, to whome he was singularly denoted. He said euery day his Beades: he prayed not only many times of the day, but would rise in the night to pray (while his companions slept) accompanying his prayers with di­uers acts of humility and mortifica­tions: he vsed sundry times secretly to [Page 249]sweep his brothers Chamber, fasted in priuate diuers daies, and with sore disciplines often chastized his tender body. And although his Brother oftē chid him for liuing so retired, yet he hauing his eyes fixed on God (who a­boue all he desired to please) would neuer omit his ordinary exercises and deuotions.

Stanislaus being thus vertuously imployed and disposed, our Lord en­kindles in him more and more the flames of his Ioue, & inspired him with a vocation to the Society of Iesus; which he vowed although he disco­uered not his resolutions to any one, besides his Confessour, vntill six mo­nethes after.

About that time he was visited with a dangerous sicknesse, in the begin­ning of which, being in his Chāber, the diuell appeared vnto him in the shape of a great blacke dogge, horri­ble and fearefull, who tooke him thrice by the throate, attempting to haue strangled him: but he recom­mending [Page 250]himselfe feruently to God, by his grace, with the sigue of the Crosse, chased him away, in such mā ­ner that he neuer appeared after vnto him.

His sicknes had reduced him to such extremity, that the Phisitiās had giuen him ouer: and the Blessed youth lay so afflicted, not so much for the death which he saw before his eyes, as because he had no meanes to re­ceaue the Blessed Sacrament, which he exceedingly desired, by reasō that the Host of the house where he lod­ged, was an Heretique. Wherfore he commended himselfe earnestly to our Blessed Sauiour, & to S. Barbara, both because she was Patronesse of the Schollers of the Colledge of Viē ­na, where he studied, as also that he remembred to haue read in her life, that whosoeuer that was deuoted vnto her should neuer die without the Sacraments of the Church. And for that the last time, which he had communicated, was vpon the seast of [Page 251]Saint Barbara aforesaid, which is the fourth of December, he humbly de­sired of our Sauiour by the intercessiō of that glorious Saint, that he might not yet depart this life, without first hauing receiued the Sacraments of the Church. And at that present fin­ding himselfe almost in the agony of death, he renewed this his petition with greater feruour & earnestnesse; which our Blessed Sauiour granted. For being one night awake, langui­shing in the agony of death, he saw en­ter into his chamber the holy Virgin S. Barbara, accompanied with two Angells, enuironed with Celestiall brightnes, bringing with them the B. Sacramēt, from whose hādes with wonderfull reuerence he receaued it, and began to be a little better.

After this great fauour, he receaued another most singular, and no lesse meruailous: for beinge ouercome with the violence of his sickenes, and in the extremity of his life, our B. Lady appeared vnto him with the [Page 252]child Iesus in her armes, and with a gratious countenance and regard ad­monishing him to enter the Society of Iesus, she vanished away, leauing the child Iesus, lying on the bed by him. Stanislaus ayded by the celestiall fauour, sodainly began to recouet his strengt & to amend, at which the Phisitiās were astonished, as at a thing cōtrary to all rules of Phisicke. These two admirable fauours, B. Stanislaus manifested a little before his death, to one of his fellow-Nouices, named Stephen, as also vnto Father Emanuel Sà, which notwithstanding hauing done it at vnawares, he remayned so much cōfoūded, that the teares stood in his eyes.

Being now restored to perfect health, not vnmindfull either of the priuate vow that he had made to enter into the Society, or of the admoni­tion of our B. Lady, & desirous to put it in speedy execution, he discouered the same to his ghostly Father, who tould him that they could not by any [Page 253]meanes receaue him in the Colledge at Vienna, without the consent of his friendes, and blessing of his Father. But he not willing to expect so long, and despayring to obtayne leaue of his Father; knowing likewise the a­uerse nature of his Brother Paul, who had often times intreated him with bitter wordes, and sometimes with blowes, which he euer had indured, with great patience and inward con­solation, for the loue of vertue; not­witstanding that he might haue some fit occasion to put his good desires in practise, he ceased not to giue many outward testimonies of his inclina­tion; & one day he discouered it vnto his brother, who was thereat so much incēsed against him, that he rated him out of his presēce, threatning to aduer­tise his parēts of his proceeding. But still cōtinuing to appease his Brother, & to get at least his good will, he spake vnto him one morning in very louing manner; who in a rage answered, that he should get him gone with a mis­chiefe [Page 254]chiefe whither he would.

Stanislaus, as an occasion fitly sent him from heauen, gladly imbraced what his Brother had said, and so put­ting himselfe in poore apparell, ha­uing confessed and communicated, & earnestly commended himselfe to God, and out B. Lady, tooke his iour­ney on foote from Vienna to Aus­burge, there to find Father Canisius Prouinciall of Germany, to whome he had letters of commendations frō a Father of the Society, preacher to the Empresse Maria.

So sonne as Paul missed his brother, he was much afflicted, knowing that he principally by his choller and ill vsage had chased him away: he sear­ched diligently many Churches and Religious houses in Viēna, but could heare no newes of him, vntill by an Hungarian Gentlemā who had beene school-fellow with Stanislaus, and by a little note that he had written to his Tutour and left within a booke, his resolution was knowne, and also the [Page 255]way that he had taken. Wherfore his brother, with his said Tutour, taking with them also their Host and one seruant, followed him with all speed in Coach, whome they ouertooke on the way, but it pleased God that they went on without knowing of him, & shortly after by reason that the Coach-horses were young and vnsit for trauaile, they were forced to re­turne without passing further.

Stanislaus now seeing himselfe de­liuered from this perill, was much a­nimated and comforted: and passing on his way, he went one Sunday morning to a Church in a village, which he supposed to be Catholike, with a desire to receaue the Blessed Sacrament: but perceauing to belong to Heretikes, he was much troubled, & in his trouble had recourse to our Lord, beseeching him with teares in his eyes, that he might not be depri­ued of the food of his soule which he so much thirsted after. Our B. Sauiour vouchsafed to heare him and graunt [Page 256]his request; & as a pious Father desi­rous to cherish the deuotion of his sonne, he sent vnto him an Angell of admirable beauty, frō whose hāds he receiued the B. Sacrament, in the same manner as he had done before during his sicknes, by the prayers of Saint Barbara.

With this Celestiall food Stanis­laus, in short time ariued at Ausburge where not finding Father Canisius, he went vnto Dibsinge a towne ten leagues from Ausburge, where the said Father was, and where he was charitably intreated, and shortly af­ter with other two Cōpanions, sent vp to Rome: and in the eighteenth yeare of his age, he arriued at his desired port, and where after a most weari­some iourney, for that he had trauay­led more thē two hundred & three­score leagues on foote, he was re­ceaued into the Society of Iesus, by Father Francis Borgia, then Generall, vpon the eight and twentith day of October, being the feast of S. Simon [Page 257]and Iude, in the yeare of our Lord 1567.

As soone as his Father vnderstood that he was entred into the Society at Rome, he was liuely touched with sorrow, because according to flesh and bloud, he loued him deerely. Therfore he wrote vnto him a letter full of passion and threates. That he had dishonoured his House and fa­mily by the course he had taken, and that if euer he returned into Polonia, he would either force him from that state of life, or send him to his graue; and that insteed of those riches, chaines of Gold, & Iewells that he in­tended to bequeath him, if he had re­mayned in the world; he would load him with captiuity, and chaines of iron.

Stanislaus answered this letter with great humility and modesty, and with no lesse courage and constancy, that he was most vnworthy to suffer for God, who had suffered so much for man: yet neuerthelesse if it should [Page 258]please God to be so bountifull vnto him, there could not happen any thing more desired by him, then euen to die for the testimony of those vowes, that he had made & promised to God.

He gaue also incessant thankes to God euen with floudes of teares, whē he saw himselfe in the Nouiciate, free frō the molestations of parēts, in the assured port of religion, hauing esca­ped the stormes and dangers of the world, he thought of no other Fa­ther but what he had in heauen, nor of other mother then the blessed Vir­gin: he contemplated all his fellow Nouices as Saints, to the end to imi­tate their vertues, and esteemed him­selfe farre vnworthy to liue among such Angells, and to be imployed (by the great fauour and mercy of God) in the seruice of them, that were his most deuout and profitable seruants. He was truly humble, and well instru­cted in the knowledge of himselfe: his desire to be despised, and not ac­counted [Page 259]coūted of (for the loue of Christ) ap­peared in his poore habit, his earnest seeking for the most abiect and pain­full Offices of the house: he alwayes rankt himselfe with the last, accoun­ting euery one much more worthy then himselfe. When he was at Viēna before his entrance into the Society, he gaue himselfe so much to prayer, that by reason of his long continuāce and attētion, his heart and senses had often fayled him, in such sort that not without diuers remedies, he hath bene brought vnto himselfe againe. And if this Blessed Youth did so apply himselfe to prayer and deuotion, li­uing in the world, how much more did he excell, being now secure in Re­ligion? This only may suffice, that he did not only spend in prayer all those houres of the day in which he was not otherwise imployed, but also the most part of the night, reseruing only so much for sleepe as would hardly serue to suffice na­ture.

By his long exercise and custome to pray attentiuely, he had obtained such a particuler guift of our Lord, that the Maister of the Nouices, and his Confessour haue affirmed, that he had neuer any distractions in prayer: so perfectly had he subdued his ima­gination to his will. And whē any one complayned of distractions or wan­dring thoughts in prayer. Stanislaus wondred at it, as a most strange thing vnto him: nor was he only so vnited vnto God in prayer and meditation, but also in his exteriour and domesti­call workes, which he performed with such recollection, that it was easy to see, that no outward thing could trouble the inward quiet of his mind, nor attention of his spirit; which was increased in him to such perfection, that in time of prayer many of the Nouices would endea­uour to pray where they might see him; for in behoulding him they lear­ned to compose themselues, and were incited to an extraordinary re­collection [Page 261]of spirit. Many repayred vnto him in their troubles and tenta­tions, recommending themselues vnto his prayers, by which meanes diuers were deliuered from sundry tentations, and restored to quietnes of spirit.

One time a Brother of the Society of Iesus, who is now a Priest, being assaulted with a great and vehement tentation of auersion from a Supe­riour, communicated the same with Staniflaus (who at that time serued in the Kitchin) desiring him to pray to God that he would graūt him grace to ouercome it. Stanislaus presently went into the Church, and by his prayers obtained his present deliuery from that tentation. He had the great guift of teares, which he shad in great aboundance with a mernai­lous sweetnes of spirit: & our Blessed Sauiour had illustrated him by his di­uine light, with such a knowledge of spirituall things, that euery one ad­mired to see so much prudence, dis­cretion, [Page 262]and spirit in so young a No­uice.

Our Lord had bestowed diuers great and celestiall guifts and conso­lations on his B. Soule, whereby he became so inflamed with the diuine loue, that diuerse times with the force and feruour therof, he sell into extasy out of which they could not some­times recall him, without applying to him of linnen dipped in cold water, wherby in short time his health was much impayred. But who can imagin the singular deuotion that he had to the sacred Queene of Heauen, being dissolued in sweetnes of mind as often as he thought vpon her admirable vertues: & it seemed that both night & day he had no other care, but how to serue her, and meditate vpon the mysteries of her holy life. For his af­fectiō to her was so ardēt in his brest, that it could not be contained from discouering it selfe, by his words, sa­luting her often, speaking alwayes of her graces and vertues, making euen [Page 263]whole nights most amorous Collo­quies with her, whome he euer vsed to call his mother.

This deuotion of Stanislaus to our blessed Lady, was so notable among the Nouices, that they to content him when they were together, would al­wayes hould discourse of the praises, priuiledges and excellencies of this most excellent Virgin; and for his sake the Maister of the Nouices or­dayned, that both at rising in mor­ning, going to bed, and likewise at night after letanies, all the Nouices should, kneeling towards the Church of S. Maria Maior (which is scituated in Rome, neere to the Nouitiate of S. And rews) salute the B. Virgin, demaūd her benediction, and desire her to fa­uour & protect all those that desired to enter into the Society. This deuo­tion that he bare to the Blessed Vir­gin, made him desire to die the Eue of her glorious assumption, which he long before foretold should be graū ­ted him.

What shall I say of the other rare and singular vertues, which, as from the liuely fountaine of the diuine li­berality, filowed plentifully in his soule? And of his so entiere and per­fect Obedience, that he neuer found repugnance in any thing that was commaunded him: he obeyed the voyce of his Superiour as the voyce of God, and had euer a perfect cōfor­mity of will with his.

What shall I say of his sweetnes & affability, or of his Compassion, mo­desty and silence, of the rigorous and austere mortifications with which he afflicted his body, by fasts, discipli­nes, and hairecloth, as if he had beene a most grieuous sinner, it being cer­taine by the report of his Confessour, that in his life he had neuer sinned mortally, & that often in his ordinary Confessions, he could not find him culpable of any sinne, for which to giue him absolution. In briefe all the Nouices beheld him as a mirrour & modell of the Society, & the Maister [Page 265]of the Nouices would exhort them to imitate his example. All those which frequēted him familiarly, estee­med him as a soule particularly e­lected by God, rich of vertues & me­rits, & euen in behoulding him they were enflamed in the feare and loue of God.

Stanislaus thus rich in vertues, ha­uing made so great a progresse in so few dayes of his Nouiceship, con­sumed with the diuine loue and desire to honor the Blessed Virgin in heauē, humbly beseeched our Lord to take him from hence, into his kingdome, that he might see and enioy his glo­rious presence: which petition our Lord graunted him, as followeth. The Eue of Saint Laurēce, he meditaring of his martyrdome, with a feruent desire to imitate him, & to be burned in the liuely flames of the loue of God, demaunded of the rest of the Nouices, who were all thē assembled, how one might burne and suffer for Iesus Christ in the imitation of Saint [Page 266]Laurence? Euery one said his opi­nion; to which he answered, that he would suffer some mortification in honour of that blessed Saint, to the end that he might pray for him vnto the B. Virgin his Mother, to take him quickly out of this exile, and that he might be present in heauen at the celebration of her Glorious Assump­tion. To this intention he made a pu­blique discipline in the refectory on his knees, could his fault, kissed the feete of euery one, begged his meate, and eate it on the ground. From thence he went to serue in the kit­chin, where by occasion of the fier that he saw, he contemplated the torment of Saint Laurēce on the Gri­diron, with such vehemency and at­tention, that his spirits languished & senses fayled him: In that manner he was carried to his bed, and was foūd to haue a feuer, which althought at the beginning it was light, and the Phisitians secure of any danger, yet Stanislaus told the Rector, that for [Page 267]certaine he should not liue, nor euer rise from his bed.

So he began to decline dayly to­wards his end, which when he felt approaching, he desired that they would suffer him to dye vpon the ground. He was taken with a great flux of bloud, and there vpon ensued a cold feuer. Hauing receyued the blessed Sacraments of the Altar, and of Extreme Vnction, most deuoutly he fixt his eyes on heauen, and so re­mayned a small space, with his thoughts rauished and lifted vp to God, vntill the Rector demaunded of him, if he were resigned into the hands of our Lord, & prepared eyther to liue or die, according to his plea­sure. To which he answered cheer­fully: My God, my hart is ready. Then hauing louingly imbraced all those that came to see him, he imbraced also an image of our blessed Lady which he had euer held most deare: he said some prayers propre for the time, and made a Colloquy in Latin [Page 268]vnto the Crucifix which was before his eyes, thanking out Lord with his whole heart for all his benefits & mer­cies bestowed vpon him, and desi­ring him for the merites of those blessed woundes of his feete, his handes, his side, and head, which he often kissed, to pardon him all his sinnes, and to receaue his soule into his blessed hands in peace.

The B. Virgin Mother of God ap­peared vnto him, accompanied with diuers other Virgins, to whome he spake a long time, and a little after with a sweet silence he deliuered his soule into the hāds of his Creatour, a­bout the ninth houre of the night, the 14. day of August 1568. the 19. yeare of his age, and sixt moneth of his Nouiceship, hauing with few dayes labour, obtayned as many crownes & merits, as others perhaps in many yeares.

His body remained so fayre, his cheekes so ruddy, his eyes so cleere, as one would haue thought him li­uing. [Page 269]It was obserued, that during his sicknes (except when he was spoken vnto) his eyes were alwayes closed, although he were awake; and when vpon any occasion he opened them, he lifted them vp towards heauen, with a smiling countenance, as if he had beheld some pleasing obiect. His body was put in a Coffin (which was extraordinary, but graunted to him in particuler by reason of the great opi­nion of his sanctity) in the Church of the Nouiciate of Saint Andrews, he being the first of the company that was there enterred. There came thi­ther such multitudes of people to kisse his feete, that Doctor Tollet, af­terward Cardinal, was amazed, therat, and said: Is it not a strange thing, that all Rome should run to reuerence the body of a yenge Polacke Nouice, as a Saint?

The opinion of his sanctity much more increased, by a booke written in Italian of his life, printed in Rome two yeares after his death, wherein [Page 270]he was styled Blessed; and in Polonia the same was written in Latin, where it was so frequent & affectuous, that many only with reading therof haue bene incited to enter into the same Society. Presently after his portraic­ture was painted in Polonia, and his pictures were set vp publikely with the tittle of Saint, and reuerenced not only by the vulgar, but euen by the Bishops, Prelats, Palatines, Lords, & also by the King himselfe, who placed the same amōg the rank of Saints pi­ctures in his Pallace, vpon the feast of S. Michaell the Archāgell, in the yeare of our Lord 1604.

Some of his reliques being carried to the twone of Gallici in the yeare 1602. were receaued there with a so­lemne procession, and kissed with great deuotion by all the people. Cle­ment the eight, (who had bene legate in Polonia before he was Pope,) graū ­ted out two Breues, in one whereof he beatified Stanislaus, and in the o­ther, graunted six yeares, and six qua­rentens [Page 271]of pardō, to those that should visit (on the day of his decease) a cer­taine Chappell, built and dedicated to his honour in Polonia. His body is still honored at Rome with great ve­neration and concourse of people: & in the yeare of our Lord 1605. the fourteenth day of August, Pope Paul the fifth hauing perused the Sūmary of his life & miracles, permitted that his Picture might be publiquely set vp neere vnto his Tombe, with lights burning before it, and the memories and votiue Tables of the miracles, which our Lord had wrought by his intercession, to be there likewise pu­bliquely hunge vpon the walles: the which was done with a wonderfull & extraordinary cōcourse of people, both frō the Citty & Court of Rome, the King of Polonia his Embassadour being present; & the Sunday follow­ing, the Bishop of Seruia sunge Masse at his body, assisted by the forsaid Embassadour of Polonia, and other of the Nobility of Poland, that were [Page 272]then in Rome.

Likewise in Polonia in diuers Churches, masse was publiquely said in his Commemoration, where the Altars were richly adorned with his Reliques, and Images placed theron: diuers rich guiftes and presents were sent from Polonia, and other Coun­treyes to adorne his Tombe & Altar in Rome, which are visited euery day with singular deuotion, by reason of the many miracles that it hath pleased our Lord to worke by his intercessiō in diuers places of Europe.

Many praying at his sepulcher, haue felt a most sweet odour to pro­ceed from his body, which being o­pened a long time after his death, his said body was found entire without any corruption at all. The miracles that it hath pleased our Lord to worke by this his seruant are very many, & at large set downe in the booke of his life, out of which these few that fol­low, are briefly taken forth.

In the Prouince of Rusia, a venera­ble [Page 273]Priest being grieuously sicke, B. Stanislaus appeared vnto him, with two other Saints, assuring him that they shortly should meete all toge­ther in heauē: vpon which the Priest, who was much deuoted vnto him, was greatly comforted and shortly after died.

One that was possessed by the diuell at Rome, & exceedingly tormenred with euill spirits, was deliuered by the intercessiō of B. Stanislaus. A cer­taine Lady in Frence, being become lame and impotent, by reason of cer­taine poison that had ben giuen her, desired to be carried in a chaire to a certaine Church, where humbly be­seeching our Lord by the merits of B. Stanislaus, to restore vnto her her health and strength, she was sodainly healed, and rising from her chaire, in the sight of many people, she walked alone, to the wonder & astonishment of all that were present, especially of the Phisitians who had long before esteemed her incurable.

Diuers other womē haue ben suc­coured by his intercession in their trauayles of Childbirth; others haue ben deliuered from feuers, swellings, blindnes: many broken legges and armes haue ben made whole, & many diseases almost incurable, healed. By drinking a little wine wherein one of his bones had ben steeped, one was cured of a dangerous sicknes. Ano­ther was cured by the touch of one of his teeth, and by other his Reli­ques, diuers others. At Rome in the yeare 1602, a Gentleman of Poland visited with a cōtinuall feuer, desired a certaine Priest to pray vnto B. Sta­nislaus for his recouery, who with great confidēce, in the name of God commaunded the feuer, by the me­rits of that B. Seruāt of his, to depart and no more afflict the Gentleman, which God by his intercession effe­cted, and the Gentleman was sodain­ly restored to his health.

For these, and diuers other resti­monies, by which it hath pleased [Page 275]God to shew forth the Sanctity of his Seruant Stanislaus, his sepul­cher or shrine is wunderfully fre­quented and reuerenced at Rome, and adorned by the piety of de­uout people, with so many orna­ments and riches, that of the num­ber of the remarquable and memo­rable thinges to be seene at Rome, this is reckoned for one. He was of small stature, his haire blacke, of faire complexion, full faced: he alwayes looked cheerfully, and was of a pleasing composition of body, & of so rare and singular modesty, that the only beholding of his face, did moue others to deuotion, and purity of life.

His holy life is of very great esteeme, and read with admiration both in France, Italy, Flaunders, Bohemia, Germany, Polonia, and Spaine (wherof this is only an abrid­gement) the which whosoeuer shall peruse attentiuely, shall find full of rare examples of vertue, and learne [Page 276]that there is no age so young that may not with its owne endeauours, cooperating with Gods grace, & im­ploying it selfe wholy in his seruice, gayne to it selfe the treasure of many merits, the testimony of an holy life, the blessednes of an happy death, and finally the glory of an euerlasting kingdome.

THE LIFE AND VERTVES OF Holy Alphonsus Rodriquez, a Brother Coadiutor of the Society of Iesus: abrid­ged by Father Michael Iulian of the same Society.

ALphonsus Rodriquez, was borne at Segouia a famous Citty in Spaine, and stu­dying in Valentia heard his Humanity and Retoricke two yeares, leading a very exēplar kind of life in all modesty & deuotion. He was called miraculously to the Order of the Society of Iesus, & was receaued therin for a Coadiutor. The first yeare of his Nouiceship, he was sent to the Colledge of Maiorca (an Iland be­tweene Sicily, and Spaine) and be­cause the story of his whole life is now in hand to be written at large, remitting my selfe therunto, I will only touch some few principall things out of an infinite number [Page 278]which might be recounted.

From the first day that this holy Brother begā to serue God in the So­ciety of Iesus, he made a firme reso­lution to serue him with great dili­gence, and therfore he besought his diuine maiesty, that he would be pleased to exercise him in continuall paines and trauailes. He was so ex­cellent in all kind of vertues, that he was a perfect modell and patterne of the same. He was so humble, that he esteemed himselfe the greatest sinner in the world; and though he knew by reuelatiō that he should be saued, without going to Purgatory, yet was he wont to weepe for his sinnes; nei­ther did any thing so grieue him, as when he saw himselfe esteemed by o­thers, wōdring how any body could endure to treate with so base and vile a creature; such was his opinion of himselfe. He was very notable in mortification both exteriour and in­teriour, seeking in euery thing, that which was most repuguant to sense [Page 279]& fensuall appetite, as well in distast­full meates, which if they were by chance giuē him, he eate in great hast least they should be changed, as also in other pennances and corporall mortifications, fastinges, wearing of hairecloth, and the like: and euen in these latter yeares wherin he hath benevery sickly, to haue desired leaue he might not omit any fasting dayes, besides that euery weeke he vsed to take three disciplines, during the time of his infirmity.

He was so giuē to feruēt prayer, that he passed many ho wers of the night, and the whole day in continuall prayer, in so much that his exteriour exercises, did not any way interrupt it; giuing sufficiēt testimony by his rare modesty, and singular good carriage, how feruent his prayers were, so that he neuer lost the presence of God, not for one minute.

His obedience was so rare, as you shall hardly find more perfect in these our times. For tryall wherof [Page 280]being once bid by his Superiour to goe into the Indies, the word was scarcely spoken, but he was presently ready to haue put it in execution, if the Porter would haue opened the dore. And the Rectour demaunding afterwards of him, how he thought to haue gone, not hauing either pro­uision or commodity of shiping? he answered that he went with great confidence in God, whome his Supe­riour represented, and who would prouide him of all things necessary, & that if he had not found the commo­dity of a ship, relying vpon holy O­bedience, he would haue aduentured to haue gone vpon the seas. He shut a doore (through which he had occa­sion to passe) almost cōtinually, euery time he passed, for the space of many yeares, because his Superiour had as­ked him once why he did notshut it.

Another time the good Brother being sicke of a vehement ague, the Rectour discoursing with him of spi­rituall matters as his manner was, as­ked him, if his head did not trouble [Page 281]him? whereū to he answered, that it did. Thē said the Rectour vnto him, Bro­ther talke no more; which he so punc­tually obserued, that he spaken or one word all that night, thou the infirma­mariā did aske him many questions. He continuated in the same manner the next day, and when the Infirma­rian tould him he might well ans­were, because it was a necessary mat­ter; he said, not without leaue of Fa­ther Rectour: hereupon the Rectour was called, and the Brother began to say: If your Reuerence will giue me leaue, I will answere the Infirmarian and Phifitian when they aske me any thing. The Rectour asked him why he did not answere before? Because, said he, your Reuerence yesterday, bad me speake no more.

He had a great zeale of soules, yet alwayes conformable to his estate, for by his spirituall talke, his mode­sty, and good example, he continual­ly preached, being Porter of the Col­ledge of Maiorca, for the space of 30. [Page 282]yeares, with vertuous reputation at home, and edification abroad. He hath done admirable things in con­uersion of soules, stirring vp all those who treated with him, to great deuo­tion and holines of life. He was very carefull to pray continually for the conuersion of the whole world, and that with so great feruour of mind, that he did offer himselfe to endure the paines of hell for all eternity, for gayning the soule of one poore Black­more, or slaue, if God were pleased therewith. And once or twice God did so eleuate him in spirit, that he faw and knew all the men & women in the world, and reuealed vnto him, that by those godly desires of his, he did merit as much as if he had con­uerted all that multitude.

Concerning his modesty; there was no man that euer saw him to haue swarued from the least point of per­fection: he went with his eyes still fixed on the ground, without casting them any way, so that for the space of [Page 283]40. yeares, he neuer looked any wo­man in the face, though he vsually gaue wine to the Communicants after receauing the B. Sacrament at Masse. He was so giuen to silence, that albeit he conuersed all his life both with domesticalls and strāgets, yet he is not knowne to haue spoaken the least idle word. He delighted much to talke of God, and if others did happē to talke of others matters, he presently fell a sleepe. He spake of spirituall things with so much af­fection, that many persons of this Iland, came of purpose to treate with him about their spitituall affaires, and to aske his aduise in their doubtes. By frequent cōuersation with Almighty God, he had attayned to so great and height of spirituall knowledge, that he left some Bookes written with his owne hand, in which he speaketh so excellently of vertues, that he farre surpasseth many learned men, writing of the same subiect. By reason wher­of the Vice-roy of this Iland, Bis­hops, [Page 284]Counsellours, Magistrats, Knights and gentlemen, had such an opinion of his wisedome, that they would not vndertake any busines of importance, without his aduise: to whome he gaue great satisfaction, & by his plaine and pious discourses dismissed them, with assured hope of the good successe of their busines, which was neuer frustrated if they obserued his counsell. His pouerty was so extraordinary, that he was neuer content but when he tryed some effects therof. He was sorry when the worste things of the house were not giuen him. If he found but a pin, he would not keepe it without leaue. He desired conti­nually to feele some want both in his dyet, and apparell, lodging and the like.

It could not be, but that he who was so carefull ouer his senses, should haue attayned vnto such angelicall purity, as Saint Ignatius his Father required in those of the Society, both [Page 285]of body and minde. And therfore he neuer looked any man in the face, but he wept most bitterly for a good while after; which he did all his life time, for hauing once cast his eye by chance vpon a coach passing by. To be briefe, by his practise of all sortes of vertue, he seemed rather to be an Angell then a man: for not only in these later yeares, but for 40. yeares together, he hath not bene noted to haue done any thing, not only not imperfectly or according to his owne humour, but so that it might seeme to be done most perfectly: in so much that although the whole world, and the forces of hell it selfe should haue opposed against him, he would not haue ceased to doe that which was most perfect, and for the greater glo­ry of God, which he had continually in his mouth, and much more in his heart. He was so punctuall in the ob­seruation of his Rules, that he would rather haue bene cut in peeces then breake the least of them. He did so [Page 286]hate singularity that euen in these later yeares wherin he was subiect to infirmitys, he could not endure to sit at the table of the Conualescentes, or such as were weake, and in recoue­ring of their health, much lesse to haue any particular thing brought him. Many haue conceyued so great an opinion of him, that they would willingly haue passed the seas, only to haue seene him: and many great men both Secular and Ecclesiasticall, were wont to come to the Colledge, and stay there sometime, only to con­uerse with him, who went away astonished with his readines in ans­wering at the gate, satisfying of all which came, with his good carriage, sweet answers, and diligence in his Office.

Thus going on, and mounting by degrees, he came at last to that per­fection of loue towardes almighty God, that if his diuine Maiesty had notin a manner by miracle preserued him, he had died through the vehe­mency [Page 287]of his loue, as himselfe hath left written, and also deliuered in giuing an account of his conscience to his Superiour, which his rule com­maundeth twice a yeare. And to the end those things may be more assu­red, he hath for these ten yeares past, by order of his Superiours, giuen the account of his conscience in wri­ting.

He had great coniunction with the Angells and Saints, with whome he conuersed both in heauen and earth, and especially with 24. of the more principall, amongst whome he deuided the 24. houres to treate and recommend himselfe vnto them; wherin he neuer fayled, though in the night and in his sleepe, awaking duly at the beginning of euery houre, to performe his accustomed deuo­uotion: which diligence of his, our Sauiour recompensed, by discouering vnto him his glory, wherin he saw more perfectly, and knew all [...] B [...] in Heauen, their names, and all par­ticulers [Page 288]as if he had conuersed with them all his life time. From his very infancy he bare so extraordinary and tender deuotion towards the Blessed Virgin, at whose hands he receiued many fauours, that one time dis­coursing and recreating as it were with her, he said: O Queene of heauen, I loue thee more then my selfe, I loue thee more then thou louest me. The motherly affection of the Blessed Virgin could hould no longer, but appearing presently, she made answere vnto him, No, no, Alphōsus, it is not so, I loue the more then thou louest me. His familiarity with the Blessed Virgin and her Sōne was such, as is wont to be betweene friends, one to another, or as of a little child with his father and mo­ther: and indeed he esteemed them for such, who affoarded him often their corporall presence, he spake vnto them (but once especially when they entred into his heart) with such deuotion & sweetnes, that he caused [Page 289]the same effectinall those that did heare him, whome he exhorted wholy to forget themselues, & only to delight in his sweet Louers, Iesus and Mary, for so he was wont to call them, be­cause they would be carefull both of body and soule.

For 40. yeares together he dayly said the Office of the Immaculate Conception of our Blessed Lady, to which mystery he was much deuo­ted: and the Blessed Virgin one day tould him, that she was very much pleased with his deuotion; which he did exhort all the Society dayly to practise, telling them that one of the principall reasons of the Institution of the Society, was to preach and de­fend the Immaculate Conception of our Blessed Lady. And this he said with so great affection, that he neuer vsed the like feruour: therby assu­ring them that he spake it nor of himselfe, but had recaued it by re­uelation from heauen. The con­tinuall vse of his beades, as was [Page 290]found after his death, had caused an extraordinary hardnes in his fingars ends.

I omit an infinite number of things which might be said of his rare vertues, of his admirable lights and diuine fauours, remitting the Reader to the history of his life (which without doubt is one of the most rare and perfect amongst the liues of those Saintes, which haue receaued extraordinary fauours from almighty God) and will briefly recount his last sicknes, death, and buriall, though from the very beginning of the 47. yeares which he liued in the Colledge of Maiorca, our Lord exercised him in all sortes of paines, as well diuers persecutiōs of the diuell which vexed him for many yeares, as corporall in­firmities & grieuous sicknes wherwith he visited him from time to time; yet he seemeth to haue made choice of the last 7. yeares, wherin, besides those infirmities which ordinarily ac­company old age, he began to be ex­tremely [Page 291]troubled with the stone, which caused him to keepe his bed continually; and the three last mo­nethes of his life, to lye only vpon one side, being not able to turne him­selfe. He spent all his time in prayer, begging earnestly of almighty God, not that he would mitigate or take away his paines, but rather he would augment them, and lay vpon him o­thers more grieuous.

His ordinary complaints in his sicknes were, that there was too much care had of him, who desired rather altogether to be forgot or de­tested, as a carion or dead beast. Whē the Rectour once bad him take a few conserues, of sweetmeates to com­forte him, he answered: Belieue me Fa­ther, those sweet things are paines vnto me, and these paines sweetnes, which he v­sually also answered to those who asked him how he did. By reason of great familiarity and conuersation with his Father and mother Iesus & Mary, he spake vnto them with great [Page 292]affection those wordes which he had learned of our Sauiour himselfe. O Ie­sus and Mary, my only comforts, grant me that I may suffer and die for your loue, and that, I may be wholy yours, and not mine owne. Once when he could scarcely speake, the Infirmarian asking what troubled him, he answered. Nothing but selfe loue.

Some few dayes before his happy death, he was taken with such a ve­hement ague, that renewing all his paines, it seemed God would take him away within one houre, in which time he did nothing but repeate these wordes: Yet more good Lord, yet more. Therfore he receaued the B. Sacra­ment (which for many yeares he had receaued twice a weeke) for his Via­ticum, with his accustomed deuotiō, as also the Sacrament of Extreme Vnction, still begging of God with inuincible patience, to increase his paines. He bare such extraordinary res­pect to the Fathers, that whē he could scarce stirre his armes, yet he would [Page 293]alwayes, when any came to him, pull off his night cap. Vpon Saturday in the euening being the 29. of October, almighty God performing that which he had promised him before, he fell into an extasy, much like to those which he had diuers times the yeare before, in which he perseuered the three last dayes of his life. And al­though his sicknes had disfigured his body, yet after his extasy, he became as beautifull as an Angell, and as red as a Rose, which were certaine proofes of the great flame which burned in his brest, & brake out by those exteriour signes, and exclamations which he vttered from time to time, O sweet Ie­sus, O my deare mother, and the like. A­bout ten a clocke in the night, ha­uing giuen some signe of death ap­proaching, all the house came vnto him, & they oftē repeating the name of Iesus, and giuing him a Crucifix to adore, he presently opened his eyes, which for three dayes before he had kept shut, and looking vpon the Cru­cifix, [Page 294]they perceaued thē to be more quicke and liuely then when he was in best health. And with this, kissing the feete of the Crucifix, and saying O sweet Iesus, he gaue vp the Ghost, the Eue of All-Saints about mid­night in the yeare of our Lord 1617.

The rare vertue of this holy Bro­ther was in such esteeme, that not only those of this Prouince, but also those of Italy, Cast le, And alusia, Por­tugall, and the Indies, haue sent to Maiorca, with earnest intreaty for some of his Reliques. Many wrote vnto him, cōmending themselues to his prayers, & only to haue his name written with his owne hand, as graue Ecclesiasticall and Secular men, Gēt­lemen of great note, Grandies of Spaine, & Cardinalls Vpō the report of his death the whole Citty came flocking to kisse his hands, & feete, and among others the Viceroy with all the Nobility and kings officers, the Ecclesiasticall, and Religious mē. [Page 295]After dinner his body was carried into the Church, & with much adoe to passe through the presse of people, it was laid vpon a hearse. All the Re­ligious Orders came to sing the of­fice of the dead, the Dominicans, Mercedes, Franciscans, Augustines, Trinitarians, Minimes, with their Su­perious and Prouincialls: as also the whole Chapter of Chanons, and all the Priests & Pastours of the towne. Incredible it is to one that did not see it, what a multitude there was of those who came to touch his body with their beades, or to get some little peece of his garment for Reliques, & of sicke folkes who came to touch him; in so much that sixe of the So­ciety, and two Fathers of S. Domi­nicke who affoarded their helpe, were not sufficient to reach the beades and meddalls, wrapped in hādkerchiffes, and throwne by the people that could not come neere, to haue them touch his body. The Office of the dead being said, as the custome is, [Page 294] [...] [Page 295] [...] [Page 296]there was made a short Sermō only to declare vnto the people some few par­ticulars of his life, during which time, no man presumed to couer his head in presence of the holy Corps, though the Church was as full as it could thrust; & all as deuout and silent, as if there had beene no man there.

The next day, being Friday, he was most solēnely interred in the Church of the Society, wherat the foresaid Viceroy, Nobility, Ecclesiasticall & Regular were againe present, as also the Lord Bishop, who the day before was sicke and could not be present. The Masse was song with Organs, musicke, and other significations of deuotion. At the same instant that he was carried to be buried, a yong man who by reasō of a thin skinn couering his eyes caused a great dimnes, was al­most become blind, came full of hope to the holy Brothers Hearse, & knee­ling downe & kissing his handes, pre­sently all the paine ceased, and the little skinne which before couered the ball of his eyes falling away, he [Page 297]receiued his sight most perfectly.

And to the end that some there present might open the eyes of their mindes shut with incredulity, Blessed Alphonsus opened also his owne eyes which death had closed; a thing no lesse admirable then profitable, that might conceaue a great opinion of his holines, whom almighty God did honour with so great miracles. For a certaine Priest amongst the rest not being very well contented to see the Viceroy, and all the Senate one after another to kisse the Blessed Brothers hands, yet least he might giue offence by omitting that duety which all o­thers did performe, resolued with himselfe, not to kisse the holy mans hands as others did, but comming with the rest, to kisse the crosse which he held in his hands, therby inten­ding to conceale his thoughts from the standers by, which yet he could not doe from the dead man. For as soone as he came neere, to the asto­nishment of all, the dead man ope­ning [Page 298]his eyes, cast them with a smi­ling countenance vpon the Priest, & stretching out his hand, seemed to in­uite him to kisse it. The Priest asto­nished presently with great reuerēce kissed the same, and departed thence, and wholy became another mā. The same day a child was healed of a rup­ture by the only touch of a peece of his cassock. The same time also a suc­king child was cured of a vehement ague wherof it lay desperate, whose throat being stopped with a great swelling in the iawes, it had not suc­ked for 4. dayes: therfore a certaine gentlewoman hauing confidence of supernaturall helpe, encouraged the parents of the child, and applying an handkerchiffe wherwith she had tou­ched the holy mans body, recouered the child presently, that there re­mained not so much as any signe of infirmity.

Two dayes after Blessed Alphon­sus his death, there came a woman afflicted with many grieuous infir­mities [Page 299]and diseases, and among the rest with a dangerous bloudy fluxe, in so much that there being no hope of her life, a Father was called to assist her at her death. Before the Father came she was past sense, hauing tur­ned vp the white of her eyes ready to giue vp the ghost, when on the sud­daine, a peace of B. Alphonsus his cassocke being applyed by the Fa­ther, she cried out that she was cured. Her fluxe ceased, the ague wēt away, in so much that one might doubt whether was first, the Reliques ap­plied, or she healed. As sonne as she was come to her selfe she made her Confession to the Father, with the same ioy of mind wherwith she had receaued her corporall health. Being thus restored to the health both of body and minde, she liued after with much deuotion towards him, by whose meanes she receyued it. Some 4. daies after his funeralls another wo­mā being desperatly sicke of an ague, which came euery day vpon her, [Page 298] [...] [Page 299] [...] [Page 300]with a great head-ach, made recourse to God, sending her little Sonne of 7. yeares old to say his beades at B. Al­phonsus his Tombe, and to touch the Tombe therewith: the child did so, & returning home, his mother tooke the beades & touching her head, put thē about her necke, & the paine present­ly ceased, God Almighty recompen­cing the childes prayer & the mothers deuotion and confidence, with resto­ring her health: and by and by she fal­ling a sleepe, saw B. Alphonsus com­passed with a great light, who for the accomplishment of the benefit resto­red also her strength, so as she pre­sently rising out of her bed, as well, & as stronge as euer before, began with all her forces to singe his prayses by whose intercession she had obtayned that benefit.

Another womā hauing a sore breast extremly swolne and hardened for the space of two monethes, had in vaine tried all humane remedies, who being wonderfully encouraged by the ex­ample of others, began to haue hope [Page 301]in Alphonsus, and laid a peece of his cloacke to her brest, saying a Pater no­ster, which before she had ended, the swelling began to be asswaged, & the corruption to breake forth in such a­boūdance, that she begā, to feare least all her breast being inwardly putri­fied would fall away: which feare in­creased the miracle, and the miracle the ioy. For two dayes after, both the holes of the vlcer were so growne vp, that there remayned not so much as any marke therof; & out of the same briest, hauing two dayes before come such aboundance of corruption, now the third day there came forth milke, as good and pure as euer before; by which miracle the mother was pre­serued from death, and her yong suc­kinge child, from staruing.

These miracles recoūted, are testi­fied by the disposition of sworne wit­nesses. Many other things be daily re­lated which shall after be publshed: for God seemeth to haue set vp this holy Brother as a light to the world, [Page 302]who also [...] the same before by his ve [...]tues. The generall deuotion of the people doth witnes it sufficiēt­ly, who from morning to night neuer cease comming, some offering cādles, others making vowes, and the like; in so much that he seemeth to liue in his sepulcher, such are the wonders he worketh. A man may gh [...]sse of what sāctity he was in his life, which being dead, causeth such deuotiō in the peo­ple that resort vnto him, and he recō ­pēseth their reares by grāting their de­sires. That you may expect many the like things hereafter, I will briefly re­count one, worthy of a large relatiō.

Some dayes before his death as he lay in his bed, thinking on the heauē ­ly felicity which was prepared for him from all eternity, he began to taste of those delights so much the more pu­rely and aboundātly, as being abstra­cted from sensible things, he drew neerer to Almighty God, who repre­sented vnto his mind the kingdome of Maiorea, as he did the whole world to S. Benet, in a beame of light, adding [Page 303]these words: Doest thou see this kingdome? I haue resolued to make t [...]ee famous in [...] by Working of many miracles, by meanes of thy prayers. And we already hoping of this promise, I conclude, wishing that whosoeuer hath beene stirred vp to admiration by these, may likewise be stirred vp to deuotiō to this Holy mā; that as the better part of him doth liue immortally in heauen, he may also in some sort liue still immortally with vs on earth. For the Diuine Goodnesse hath seemed to determine with itselfe, so to recōpence the Deuotion of Holy Alphonsus Rodriquez; that as in his life he made him a patterne of Reli­gious perfectiō for the example of o­thers: so now being dead, for the glory of himselfe & his Saints, he maketh him wōderfull to the world; causing many to haue confidēce in his patro­nage; that being departed hence he may not haue lesse Honour by this cōfidence in his sanctity, then whiles he remayned heere aliue he had gay­ned by the opinion of the same. His [Page 304]body lyeth buried at Maiorca, in the Church of the Fathers of the Society, in the same Iland, the which is so ho­noured by all the Inhabitāts therof, that it is wonderfull to see: and the dayly and certaine miracles wrought therat, are already sufficient to make a whole volume. His memory is very famous all ouer Europe, and his Pi­cture is exposed to be publikely reue­renced, with licence of the Popes Holines, in many Churches and Ora­tories, therby to put vs in remem­brance of that saying of the Holy Prophet: Mirabilis Deus in sanctis suis. God is wonderfull in his Saints. To whose prayers and merits, let all good Christians commend them­selues. Amen.

La [...]s Deo.