Chapter 1. Philips Birth and Infancy.

PHilip Nerius was born at Florence in the Year of our Lord 1515. On the Vigill of the B. Mary Magdalen after midnight, Leo the X^th. then Pope: and at his Bap­tism in the Church of S. John Baptist, was after the name of his Grandfather called Philip. His Father Francis Nerius was a man of good repute with all, and of great integrity in his plead­ings in the Law. His mother Lucretia Soldia a No­ble [Page 2] and Religious Matron, whose Ancestors had for­merly managed the prime offices in that Common­wealth.

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

His vertuous Parents vertuously educated him whilst yet a child: first entring him time­ly What is Writ concerning his Childhood is from the rela­tion of his Sister, of his own mouth, of Ludovico Parigi his most ancient and familiar freind. into Grammar, wherein he not only outwent, but be­came also admired by his School-fellows. He studied Rethorick too under an able Master, through whose discipline he proved a good proficient.

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

His Mothers commands he was so carefull of, that being at any time bid to stay any where, he would not stir from the place without her leave. She dying, [Page 3] and his Father marrying anew, his Step-Mother, out of a reverence to his Sanctity, loved him entirely, as her own; and when he afterward left Florence, wept sore to part with him. Yea in her last most desperate Sickness, being at the point of Death, she oft redoubled his name, ever and anon calling him thereby, as if the very mentioning of it were a kinde of ease to her.

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

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

These rare accomplishments of the minde were at­tended with a speciall care of religion, and the ser­vice of God: and his devotions argued in him a strange maturity, and carried with them much of authority. For they consisted not in erecting li [...]tle Al­tars, as is usuall for children at that age; but in sending up prayers, reciting Psalms, and devout at­tention to the word of God: concealing still in his talk his intention to become a Priest, or betake himself to a Cloyster; and even in his childhood growing re­served in his designes; as perfectly detesting all man­ner of ostentation.

Such a forwardness in vertue, and so childlike in­nocency [Page 4] procured him already that favour with God that whatever he requested of our Lord, he instant­ly obtained: So that it oft hapned, when he had lost any thing upon recourse to his prayers he presently found it.

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

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

Besides these he resorted to an eminent Preacher of the Order of the Humiliati, called Baldoline, whom he greatly delighted to hear; of whose Sanct [...]ty, he gave a very fair Character, affirming that Florence [Page 5] was saved by this mans prayers; in the Year 1527. What time the Duke of Bourbon passing with his army through Italy, assaulted Rome.

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

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

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

THere was an Ʋncle of Philips named Romulus, a man very industrious, who going from Florence into Campania, and living a Merchant at S. Germans had there got an estate to the value of 22000 Crowns, and more: to him therefore was Philip at eighteen years old, by his Father dispatched, with designe, that applying himself to Merchandise, he might make him his heir, especially having none nearer a kin to him then he. So coming to S. Germans, he was by his Ʋncle kindly received, towards whom he so demeaned himself, that observing his ingenuity and [Page 6] maners, he purposed to make him his heir; but that God who had destined him to nobler ends, defeated the contrivances of his Ʋncle: and Philip within a while perceiving himself called forth to a far better course of life, began to consult of altering his condi­tion: to the perfecting which project of his, that which now comes to be related did conduce.

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

Hither ofttimes Philip retires, the better to con­template on the mysteries of the Passion: where loath­ing daily more and more the varnished follies, and gilded roctenness of this world, he resolved, quit­ting his Merchants affairs, to make choice of a life, wherein he might freely serve God, with a minde disinteressed from worldly cares. His Ʋncle soon dis­covers his drift, and labours might and main to alter his Resolutions: ‘First promiseth to leave him sole Heir to his whole estate; then mindes him of the Nerian Family, like to fail utterly in him; which he should do well to think of; and neither hastily nor unadvisedly determin a matter of that conse­quence; Lastly tells him, he had not deserved so ill at his hands, as not to obtain one favour from him,’ in lieu of so many bestowed. Philip as was fit, mo­destly replyed; He should never be unmindful of his favours indeed; but as to the rest, he rather commended his affection, then approved his counsel.

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

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

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

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

Here for divers years did Philip lead a most austere life, shunning all Company and commerce; so that there be, who affirm him to have lived an Anchorets life even in the heart of the City. His diet was so spare, you would have said, Hunger could not pinch, nor Thirst parch him; for when the Servants used at first to save him a share at meals, yet would he go down into the yard to the well, and dine or sup with bread and water; adding sometimes a few olives or herbs: yea oftimes fasting three dayes together. His chamber was slightly furnished, for except a little Bed, and a few Books, you should scarce finde any thing there. [Page 8] His necessaries both of linnen and woollen hung on a line tyed cross the room. He was much in Prayer, wherewith he was so delighted, that he needed no external inducement, his own inclinations did so hurry him thereto, spending sometimes whole nights and dayes therein. This his emment course of life became so notorious, that not Florence alone, but most of the Cities of Italy heard the fame thereof.

Chap. 4. His Study of Philosophy and Theologie.

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

He studied Divinity among the Augustine Friers; wherein he made such a progress, that he gained enough to serve him for his whole life: insomuch that when he was old, he would answer the deepest questions in Theologie as readily, as if he had come from his studies but the other day: sometimes dis­cussing such points with his Sons, who were vers'd in them; both to endear them the more to him, and by these allectives, further and promote them in Christian Devotion. At other times (but that seldom) he would discourse thereof with the most judicious Divines of that Age; of whom were Ambrosius de [Page 9] Balneolo, afterward made Bishop of Nardo by Pius the V. and Paulus Bernardinus of Luca of the Order of S. Dominic, famous for Wisdom and Learning, with whom he was very intimate. To others he car­ried himself with such Modesty, as though he had scarce been in the Confines of Learning. Whereupon a wise Prelate visiting him, and conferring at large with him, said at his parting: I took this for an igno­rant and unletter'd man, but in truth I finde him ex­cellently qualified for vertue and profound knowledge: the like befell Alexander Saulius, Bishop, first of Ale­ria, then of Pavie, famous for holiness and learning, who propounding some Theological questions to him, wondred at his sharp understanding, and gave him the like testimony.

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

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

Nor in his younger time did he neglect Poetry, as well Latine as Italian, in which he grew so dextrous, that on a sudden he would compose excellent verses at pleasure. Yet while he thus intended his studies, he did not for this omit the exercises of Religion and Charity; but resorted to the Infirmaries of the City, carefully tended the sick, taught in the Cathedrals [Page 10] the principles of Faith, and the like; in brief, refused nothing that any way conduced to the good of Souls. Yea, for the time he studied Divinity, whensoever he fixed his eyes on the Crucifix which hung up in the Schools, he was not able to forbear sighs and tears. So that, as at Florence he was sirnamed Pippus bonus, so at Rome he gained the title of Philippus bonus, Philip the vertuous.

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

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

And for his better progress, he began more severely to afflict his body, sleeping on the ground anights, beating himself every day with small Iron Chaines, declining the Company of men, daily frequenting the seven Churches of the Citty, especially the Cae­mitery of Callistus; where carrying with him only one loaf for his provision, he would many times pass whole nights in supplications: which strange course of life he led for ten years together. Which Francis [Page 11] Cardonius, a Dominican (who then in Rome had charge of the Novices in the Monastery of S. Maria su­pra Minervam:) observing, to encourage others to the practises of stricter holiness, would frequently tell them; Phil [...]p Neri indeed was a right holy person; who, besides many wonderfull things done by him; lived ten whole years in S. Sebastians Grots.

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

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

One night also, not far from S. Sebastians Church, [Page 12] on a suddain three devills with ugly and grim visages (the more to fright him) met him praying, and meditating as he walked, but he, as one disdaining them, discovering no sign of fear went on undaunt­edly, continuing in prayer with great tranquility: at which they fled, frustrate of their expectations. And with many other combats in this kinde did those wicked spirits assail him, over whom notwithstand­ing this valliant Souldier of Christ victoriously tri­umphed. Of which in their proper places.

Chap. 6. The miraculous Palpitation of his Heart.

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

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

What the cause of this tumor was, plainly appear­ed when he was dead, in the view of divers: for as [Page 13] the Surgeon opened his Corpse before skilful Anato­mists that were by; they found two of the five lesser, which they call the short, ribs, broken clean asunder, and sticking forth like a bow, which for fifty years afterward that he lived, at no time ever closed again: and yet (which seems incredible) he never found from it, either then, or afterward, the least pain or trouble.

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

Hence it was likewise, that if any Penitent coming to Confession chanced to lean against his breast, he should (even to admiration) feel that throbbing of his heart, and, if his head touched him, sometimes perceive it recoil, as if struck with a hammer; and he in the mean while freed of all Temptations. So that Tiberius Ricciardellus, Canon of the forenamed [Page 14] Church of S. Peter, who voluntarily served the H. Man four years together, left this upon record.

‘What time I served the B. man (saith he) I was surprized with a lewd and foul imagination, which so soon as I had disclosed unto him, he bade me come neerer, and joyn my breast to his; I ap­proached, did so, and was instantly rid of it, never after being molested with like impurities.’ Thus Tiberius. The same do Marcellus Vitellescus, Canon of S. Maria Major, one very gracious with Philip, and sundry others avouch.

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

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

In like manner he would oftimes throw himself upon his bed, and there languish, surcharged with the too delicious Gusts of the Spirit. So truly was that in the Canticles verified in him, Fulcite me, &c. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. But to conceal his secret from the no­tices of any, he gave out, those Fits arose either from indisposition of body, or long custom; and therefore purposely wore a Hankerchief on the left side of his breast, that the extension of his Ribs might not be perceived. This also in his palpitation was at­tributed to a miracle, that it took him not by con­straint, but by consent; as he more then once de­clared to Cardinal Borromeo his most intimate friend. And therefore Andreas Caesalpinus, and Angelus Victo­rius, with other able Physicians, set forth several Tracts about it, shewing how this thrusting forth his Ribs befell him by a special Providence of God; that his heart (likely otherwise to be oppressed in so vio­lent a motion) having by this means a larger circuit, might beat freelier, and gather air the better.

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

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

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

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

And as his Charity encreased, he (no doubt by di­rections from the H. Spirit) began to consort with the most lewd recreants in all the City (but being of that age, not with women at all) many of which he perswaded to better courses. Of these there was one [Page 17] of the chief Bankers, who inveigled with the Love of pelf, and mired in Sottish and carnal plea­sures led a most dissolute life. He being by Phi­lips means incensed with a Zeal to the service of God repaired to a Priest, for absolution of his sins, who repulsed him, for that he refused to abjure committing the same again, he, coming to Philip something sad, relates what had hap­ned, beseeching him to pray to God for him, though most unworthy. Philip chearing his deject­ed minde, and making light of the difficulties said Go: I am now hasting to pray for you; and will not desist till I have moved the most High to pitty: and so he did: for shortly after, upon his withstand­ing the next occasions to those sins, he was ab­solved according to his desires by the same Priest, who had formerly rejected him; and became a great observer of Philip ever after.

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

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

Philips Sons observed, that those who despised [Page 18] his counsel for the most part came to an ill end. So it chanced to one that professed Philosophy, whom Philip had chid for some heinous fact, but he sligh­ted his admonition; and no sooner went from the place, but was unfortunately murdred. The like hapned to another, whom once, or twice he had wished to repent, who growing obstinate, with­in a few dayes was imprisoned, convicted of a notorious crime, and adjudged to dye, but at the earnest suit of his friends was condemned to the Gallies.

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

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

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

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

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

During the time of these prayers, he for the most part spent a day and a night in heavenly contem­plation; and at the end of each hour by a signall [Page 20] dismissed them that prayed, calling up others, and saying, See Brethren, the houre indeed is spent, but never the time of doing well.

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

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

The first of this fraternity (who all reverenced Philip as their Father) though but meanly accomo­dated with temporals, had neverthelesse a rich fur­niture of their own vertues; for he that had the lowest office among them, serving in the Kitchin, arrived to so high perfection, that going many times at midnight from his lodging, looking up to heaven he would be even rapt with the meditation of things divine. Another likewise of the same so­ciety foreseeing the day of his death, sends for his [Page 21] Sister, and bid her write, such an hour on Friday I shall depart: and departed the same hour as he had said.

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

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

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

GOd therefore having determined the work of his Servant to the Cure of Souls, and Philip in [Page 22] that condition being uncapable of such employ­ment, inwardly excites Persianus Rosae his Confessor to perswade him to the taking H. Orders. At first he opposed it, objecting his weakness, and endea­voured by many reasons to divert Persianus from those thoughts: but he peremptorily demands his obedience.

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

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

These servants of Christ, lived in the same house together, united fast in the same bond of mutual charity and respects; without any other particular constitution of government, save only Love, none superiour to other, nor having one table, but keep­ing their order of seniority, cared for nothing but [Page 23] to outvy each other in the serving of God, and helping their Neighbours. Which Order continues still, and flourisheth to the great example of vertue: and here was Philip Authorised for the taking Confessions; whereby he dayly gained opportuni­ties for promoting the good of Souls.

CHAP. X. The Original of the Spiritual Conferences.

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

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

As soon as ever the Church-doors were open, he straight betook him to his seat of Penance, which he left not usually, except to say Mass, or when some urgent occasion called him away. When none [Page 24] came he stayed there either meditaring, or walk­ing before the Church-porch; that if any needed his help they might presently have recourse to him, as being at leasure. He was so delighted in hear­ing Confessions, that he would often say, he took exceeding pleasure in but fitting in the Penitential chair; and therefore as long as he lived he omitted not this service. And when any asked him, Fa­ther, why do you over-burden your self with so great pains taking? his answer was, I am so far from thinking it a burden, that I finde it an ease and re­creation to me.

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

At first there were present at these Conferences but seven or eight: viz. Simon Grazinius and Mon­tes Zazzara, Florentines; Michael a Prato a Shoe­maker, two young men Goldsmiths; and a Roman, one of the Maximi: but the number afterward in­creasing, [Page 25] the H. man at his own charges provided a larger, and more convenient room in the same house.

CHAP. XI. His first Penitents.

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

This man was such a master of his affections, that he who lately stalked through the City, gor­geously array'd, attended with a numerous train of servants, having once relished the Spirit, began now utterly to abandon the empty ostentation of such State; yet Philip wished him to go well ha­bited, [Page 26] and keep a competent Retinue for the Ho­nour of his house. By these and the like vertues he so pleased God, that at his death, armed with the Sacraments of the Church, and spreading forth his hands to Heaven, he sang that of David, Laetae­tus sum in his quae dicta sunt mihi, in domum Domini ibimus: I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord: and so breathed out his soul in the arms of Philip his most tender Father.

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

Next Salviatus was Francis Maria Taurusius Po­litianus, allied to two Popes, Julius the third, and Marcellus the second; a man of great parts, and for his excellencies and abilities of mind by the Princes highly esteemed, and of much repute at Court. He, upon occasion of a certain Indulgence at that time published, went to the Church of S. Hie­rom a Charitate to Confession, and found the good man, never unprepared to such offices. When he had done Confession, Philip had him to his chamber; where, after many and several discourses, he took an occasion to desire him to go and pray with him one hour. Taurusius yielded to it; and found in that space such a gust of heavenly things, that the hour seemed less then a minute to him. And when afterwards coming to Philips lodging, he oft saw [Page 27] him hoised up into the air whilst he pray'd he be­gan to have a venerable esteem of him, and in­flamed with more ardent affections unto holiness, thought of prescribing to himself a new course of life. But withheld by some obstacles from those purposes of serving God, he acquaints Philip with them; who bids him Go, and rest contented; for those lets that now hinder you within a moneth will be over: and at the moneths end returning to the H. man well quieted and at ease, he confessed to him, with great contrition and remorse, the sins of his whole life; and finding in Confession that Philip could discover his very thoughts and imaginations, became such a lover and admirer of him, that fore­going the Pomp and splendour of the Court, he re­signed up himself wholly to his conduct.

This man had so burning a zeal, and fervent de­votion, as needed more correctives to allay, than incentives to excite it: and he so wholly depended in every thing upon the Divine pleasure, that he never lost the tranquility of minde, which he had at his first conversion. He highly reverenced Philip; so that being fourscore years of age, and dignified with the Cardinals purple, he gloried most, that he had laid his ground-work in Christs School under Nerius for above fifty years. He was famous for the gift of prayer and tears. He was so excellent at making familiar Sermons, that he is stiled by Baro­nius in his Ecclesiastical Annals, Dux Verbi; the Chieftain of the Preachers. Clement the eighth cre­ated him first Archbishop of Avignion: and then conferred on him the Cardinal Dignity: when he was in years he earnestly besought the Fathers, that he might return to them, and end his dayes in the Congregation, they all assented; so, not long after, [Page 28] in the year of our Lord 1608. and of his age the 82^d. and the eighth moneth, he devoutly ended his life, and lies buried in the Church.

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

One of the eldest of Philips Scholars was John Ba­ptist Modius, a Calabrian by profession a Physician, one learned and vertuous, that writ ex­cellently of the waters of Tiber: and compleated some Notes of the B. Jacoponius upon the Canticles. Once Philip came to see him almost dead with a fit of the Stone; and exhorted him to patience; when going out he stept into the next Church, and pray­ed to God most fervently for him; and at the [Page 29] first tear the H. man shed, Mo­dius voided the stone. There­upon This was publickly attested by John Francis Bordinus Archbishop of A­vignion. being recovered, not un­mindful of the blessing, he put himself into his sole patronage and tuition. He was of a milde temper, soon affected with the miseries of others; very ready in preaching; who by Philips appointment (whilst yet a Lay-man) with much banefit and content unto the Auditors; re­hearsed the lives of the Saints over in the Oratory: of which hereafter. When he died, Philip appointed to that employment Antony Fuccius of Tifernum. a Physician able and pious, and one of the H. mans disciples, who had agreed to go with him into the Indies, for propagating the Christian Faith.

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

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

Beside these he had other Sons, of mean rank in­deed, but of illustrious piety. Of which the first was Steven a shoe-maker of Arimium, who lately living a Souldier led a dissolute and profane life, [Page 30] in the abetting quarrels and maintaining of sends: being at Rome he hapned to go to the Oratory of S. Hieroms to the sermon there, and in civility to the rest sat the lowest of all; but Philip though he neither knew nor had seen him before, brings him to the uppermost seat kindly inviting him to sit down; when the company was gone coming to him again, he used him with such respect, that being wone partly with Gods Word, partly with these, courtesies he frequented the sermons every day, by the constant use of which and of the Sacraments he by degrees cast off his long accustomed evill habits, and by little and little attained unto the height of vertue. He was so propense to works of mercy, that albeit he lived poorly, yet of that he got weekly in his trade, abating necessary diet, he distributed the rest among the poor. He continually medita­ted on his latter end, preparing himself thereto, no less than if he had bin to dye that day: yet his daily thinking thereon made him not alter his countenance, nor leave his wonted chearfulness. He was strict in his obedience, and much in prayer, in which he received many and great favours from our Lord; particularly this that in the Church of the H. Trinity he was seen to shine with a marvai­lous brightness. Thus sequestred from all kinde of company, lived he in a small cottage about 23 years, and being advised by his friends (suspect­ing he might dye suddenly without notice taken) not to live alone, he made answer, that he relyed on the B. Virgins patronage, and doubted not, but that pious Mother would assist him in such an ex­igent. Nor was he mistaken in the event, for one night being like to dye on the sudden, he went out and called some of his neighbours to stay by him, [Page 31] and fetch the Curate of the Parish; and going to bed again, when he had fitted himself in due man­ner with all the Sacraments, he quietly surrendred up his Spirit.

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

Another of Philips disciples was Thomas a Sicili­an, who through his managery attained to such a pitch of humility, that he took it for a high ho­nour [Page 32] to have but the office of sweeping So Peters Church in the Vatican: which when he obtained, he discharged with all diligence and care. In the day time he never went out of the Church; In the night he would fetch a light nap on the steps of some Altar: having lived in this office divers years, the devil, enduring his unshaken constancy, put him into a fright, that by being terrified he might desert his emploiment. So, as he rested se­curely one night, the evil spirit on the sudden made a great noise in the Church, that he verily thought all the seats had bin taken up and presently dashed against the ground; herewith awakned he rose, and taking a wax-light looked round the Church, but found nothing misplaced at all: and prying narowly into the private corners and holes; lest some thief might lye [...]id there, he spied a de­vil skulking hehinde a pillar in the likeness of an ugly More; Thomas boldly ran to him, lifting up his hand to strike him a box on the ear, but the Fa­ther of pride ashamed, vanished; so, he unappalled returned to his place, and slept on quietly.

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

Of the number of his disciples must Peter firnam­ed Molinarius be also reckoned, one who lost his [Page 33] sight with excessive weeping; which he is reported to have recovered afterward by miracle from Al­mighty God. Sundry other children in Christ had Philip, which died in high reputation for San­ctity; of whom some are for brevities sake o­mitted here, some, as occasion offers, shall be in­serted in due place.

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

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

His intents he declares to some his chief famili­ars, in number about twenty, of whom was Tauru­sius; of these some he wishes to become Priests, only that thereby having procured the Apostolical Benediction they might take a voyage to the Indies. But because he would not enterprize nor determine any thing of moment but by advice, prayer, and the advantage of time, using longer Prayers then for­merly, he went to a Monk of the Order of S. Be­net, that dwelt in S. Pauls Monastery with­out the City, and advised with him, as being in re­pute [Page 34] for his life and learning: he remitted him to another Monk of the Order of Cistercians, called Augustin Ghettine Govenourr of the Monastery of the H. Martyrs, Vincentius and Anastasius at Aquae Salviae.

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

To this Reverend person Philip relates what he had designed, and requests his advice aceording as the matter imported, he deferred in it, and bids him come again, that so he might give him a more punctuall answer. At the day appointed when Philip came, he returned him this answer; S. John the Evangelist had appeared to him, and told him plainly, that his Indies should be at Rome, and that God would use his service there for the good of many: telling him further that the Three Fountains seemed to him of bloody tincture, which, as S. John ex­pounded it, presaged a great calamity on the City. Upon this Philip gave over, determining to settle [Page 35] at Rome, and addict himself altogether to the fur­thering and promoting the salvation of others, as long as he lived.

Yet did not this ardent Zeal of propagating the Faith chill in him at any time: for what he could not do among the Indians, he to his uttermost en­deavoured in the City. When a Jew, Heretique, or any other Infidell met him, he could not refrain weeping at the first sight, he was so earnestly desi­rous of his conversion: and therefore neglected no­thing that might further it.

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

On the Vigil of the H. Apostles Peter and Paul, Marcellus Ferrius, one of Philips Sons, hapned on two young men, Hebrews, in the porch of the Vatican Church: who saluting them courteously, began to discourse piously and profitably (and not in vain) of both the faith and glory of those Hebrew Apostles: thereby gently and by degrees perswad­ing them to visit Philip at their leisure, who lived [Page 36] then at S. Hieroms. They did so, and were kind­ly entertained by the H. Father, whose sweetness and civility so transported them, that for some moneths together they constantly called on him at certain times; afterwards when they left coming, Philip sends for Marcellus, bids him carefully look out those young men. He goes to their house, en­quires of their Mother, if they were well: she tells him one of them lay dangerously sick; he desired to have access to him, and, as God would have it, was admitted: when he came into the Room he findes him like to dye; his disease having taken a­way his stomack quite, so that he refused all meats. The woman requests Marcellus to offer him meat if happily he would take it from his hand: he did, and the young man accepts whatsoever he offers. Marcellus when he saw his time, whispers in his ear. Philip remembers him kindly to you: at which, he was much pleased and smiled. Then Marcellus, Re­member you promised Philip you would become a Christi­an; I well remember it, said he, and will stand to my word. Marcellus informs Philip hereof, who o­ver joy'd said to him, Doubt not, let us but fall to our prayers, and be confident, he will receive the faith. In fine, the sick party recovered and both he and his Brother were Baptized.

He converted also to the Christian faith, one of the wealthiest of the Jews, who was bapti­zed in S. Peters Church. And because his Fa­ther who was still a Jew was more familiar than was meet with the Son so lately become a Christian, Gregory the XIII^th. then Pope, fearing lest by this daily converse this new Souldier of Christs might receive harm, told Philip he liked not that kind of entercourse. The H. man replied, he there­fore [Page 37] suffered their society, for that he hoped by the sons means to gain the Father to Christ also. And he was not deceived in it, for as soon as the Son but brought his Father to Philip, he discoursed with such fervent charity, and forcible eloquence of true faith in God, that being enflamed there­with he quickly was baptized, and admitted into the number of the faithfull.

Some years after, when Philip went from S. Hie­roms to Vallicella, the same man having four Ne­phews, Orphans, was solicitous to keep them from conversing with the Jews, that so being instruct­ed in the mysteries of religion, they might be train­ed up in the faith of Christ: these therefore, their affectionate Ʋncle commits to Philip, who loving­ly and friendly, as his manner was, received them, but said nothing of religion. A while after he bid them pray unto the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Ja­cob, to enlighten their minds with the beams of his truth, promising the next day at Mass to set upon God by violence. And though the young men, who had bin oft assaulted by arguments and exhortations, con­tinued This is attested by divers sworn Witnesses. unshaken, it was observed at the time Philip said Mass, they inclned to imbrace the Christian faith; whereupon those, who were there the day before, and heard what Philip said, namely, That he would offer violence to God, remembred his words.

Meanwhile that the lads where learning the principles of Religion at Vallicella, one of them fell into a fever, and the sixth day the disease being at the highest, the Fathers fearing he would dye, consulted about baptizing him; but toward Even­ing [Page 38] Philip came to see him, and lightly stroaking his forehead and brest, My son I should be sorry, said he, you should dye of this sickness; for the Jews would give out, the Christians had bin the cause of your death: therefore to morrow before dinner s [...]nd to put me in minde, that at Mass I pray to our Lord for you. Which when Peter Consolinus, Philips chief favorite, heard, he told the youth, Son you will recover this sickness; for this good man hath by his prayers to God restored di­vers to health. That night he had a shrewd fit, and the Physitian that had the cure of him, sent to his Ʋncle to make all hast if he meant to see his Ne­phew alive; but when the hour for Mass came, Consolinus asked the young man if he should minde Philip, as was agreed; who was willing. When lo! scarce had the H. man done Mass but the young man rose up perfectly well, and sat upon his bed, and his Ʋncle coming found him rid of his fever. After dinner when the Physitian came and felt his pulse, as his manner was, crossing himself at the strangeness thereof he cryed out, have ye Physitians at home, and do ye fetch them from abroad? at even­ing came Philip again to see him, and told him, Truely son you had died, but that your Mother might not impute the cause of your death to us, I have ob­tained of our Lord your recovery by prayer. Where­upon as soon as he was throughly well, some two moneths after, hoth he and his Brothers, to the great joy of the devout old man, were baptized by Pope Clement the eight in the Lateran Church, on the feast of the Apostles, S. S. Simon and Jude.

But because they as heartily desired the conver­sion of their Mother, they never left importuning their superiours, till they got her placed with a Lady of great quality: and asking Philip still, what [Page 39] hopes were of her; the good man answered, She shall not yet embrace the faith of Christ; nor is it now so expedient: but it shall fall out more seasonably both for you and her. And so it was; for, about six years after, she and others to the number of 24. were baptized together.

He gathered into the bosome of the Church many heretiques also; whose names are purposely omit­ted. Yet how he caused one Palaeologus to renounce his heresy, may not be passed over in silence. He was kept as an Arch-heretique in the Inquisition, and, persisting obstinately after all ways used, was con­demned to be burnt. As he was led to execution, Philip then living at S. Hieroms, being acquainted therewith, forthwith runs and meets him, leaping into the crowd; and making his way resolutly through the guard, when clasping about the con­demned person, he friendly counsels him to re­tract his error. When they came to the stake, Phi­lip (by the authority God vouchafed him at that time with them) bid the officers stay: they did so: meanwhile Philip in few words, yet such as had their weight from heaven, perswaded this errant to the acknowledging of the truth: willing him to get upon a form and there publikely dis­claim his heresy, who heartily did abjure and de­test his impious opinions in the view of all the peo­ple. At last Philip prevailed so far, that he was brought back to prison, where to mollify the minde of this penitent, he procured him of Grego­ry the thirteenth a very liberall gratuity, besides what the Masters of the Inquisition allowed him for diet: and that he might not relapse from his good resolutions, visited him every day, treating with him only about matters of religion. And for the [Page 40] subduing and curbing in him the spirit of arrogance and pride, wherewith hereticall minds use to be possessed, he gave him the lives of S. John Columbi­nus and Jacoponius to read, saying, that this sort of men are easilier won by the example of holy men, and their innocent behaviour, than subtilties or dis­putes: so that Palaeologus was sorry he had not light on Philip before, and bin acquainted with him. Yet he lasted not long in this good minde, which Philip foretold in these words: This mans conversion doth not altogether like me: yet by his prayers and tears he obtained of God his returne and repen­tance: but at length relapsing again he was put to death, not without signes of hearty contrition; Caesar Baronius and John Francis Bordinus at the in­stance of Philip affording their assistance for setling his minde in the faith being then at the brink of death.

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

THis so vehement zeal of propagating the faith would not be confined to the limits of Rome, but diffused it self far and wide unto the most distant quarters of the Christian world. For perceiving that in some Northerne countries the enemies of the Catholique faith daily broached new and infecti­ous doctrines, he, on the contrary pitying the great ruine of Souls, resolved to oppose himself. Thereupon by speciall directions of the spirit of God he enjoyned, that in the Oratory (of which anon) one of his Scholars as oft as he preached, [Page 41] should bring down the Ecclesiasticall story in order, from the Incarnation of Christ; that so, the begin­ning, truth, and progress of the universall Church exposed to open view, and the craft and cheats of hereticks discovered, neither the Ignorant might be led into error, nor the Learned pretend any excuse.

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

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

The same is confirmed by a vision from heaven, [Page 42] which appeared to him not long before he set about the compiling his Ecclesiastical History. For when first he began to preach in the Oratory, he used to thunder out the terrors of de ath and hell: which after he had a while practised, Philip by direction of the H. Ghost, foreseeing that, if he changed the subject of his discourse, it would prove more be­neficiall both to himself and others, advised him to apply himself to the composing his Ecclesiastique story, and leave preaching death and hell: at that time Baronius did not oppose, but his genius carry­ing him the other way, afterward neglected his ad­monition: so that Philip by vertue of his authority commanded him speedily to go about the task he had set him. Which his injunctions Baronius thought hard, and urged thereto one while by the vertue of obedience, another while discouraged by the reluctancy of his nature, he was extreamly troubled, but the Good Lord to allay these tempests in him, thus made known his minde to him.

As he was asleep one night, he thought he was di­scoursing with Onuphrius Panuinus, who also ap­plied himself to Ecclesiasticall history, when being very pensive, and intimating what Philip had im­posed upon him, he desires him not to refuse the finishing such a work: and as he heaped up argu­ments to perswade his friend, on the sudden he hears Philips voice saying yield Caesar, now yield, and stand out no longer, for that the Ecclesiasticall history must be written by you, not by Panuinus. At which Baronius awaked, and perceiving it to be the Divine will, immediatly resolves to run through the Church Annals in the Oratory: which when he had brought along from Christs, we near to his own times, Philip enjoyned him to rehearse them [Page 43] once or twice from the beginning to the end: so that in the space of thirty years (as in the preface mentioned he affirms) he went over in publique, the whole story from the beginning seven times, ere he printed the first Tome; and at last put forth the whole work divided into twelve Tomes. For this his great service to the Church he was by Pope Cle­ment the eightth advanced to the dignity of a Car­dinal; which eminency with what unwillingness and regret he received, is there recorded by him; besides his refusing before that three wealthy Bi­shopricks. So, worn away with continuall study and long weakness, living in hi [...] Tusculan retire­ment, when he found his end approaching, Let us go to Rome saith he, for it beseems not a Cardinall to dye in the Country. Being brought therefore to the City in a Litter, his sickness increasing, he died the last of June 1608. In the 69^th. year of his age (which number he had with his pen marked in many pages of his books; as being prescribed for the term of his life) in a house neer the Oratory, not far from S. Philips Chappel, the Fathers of the Congregation being present; and was buried with great concourse of people.

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

CHAP. XIV. The Foundation of the Oratory.

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

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

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

But these beginnings of the Infant Oratory none better can delineate, then he who knew them so exactly, and described them so copiously, Baro­nius. For in the first Tome of his Annals, treating of holy meetings, such as the Apostle mentions to the Corinthians. ‘Certainly by the Divine wis­dome, saith he, was it brought to passe, that in our times, thirty years since, by means chiefly [Page 45] of the R. Father Philip Nerius a Florentine, who as a wise Master-builder laid the foundation; and of his disciple the R. Father Francis Maria Tau­rusius Politianus, who amongst them seemed the Chieftain of the Preachers, Assemblies were insti­tuted in the City, much what after the form of those Apostolical conventions, such especially as by the Apostle were appointed for the discoursing of divine matters, both for edifying the hearers, and for propagating the Church. By the care therefore and industry of these was it first agreed on, that the Zealous Christians should meet a­dayes at S. Hieroms Oratory (for from it came the name of the Congregation of the Oratory) and there a religious meeting should be held after this manner. First silence being made, they be­gan with prayer, and one of the Brothers reads some pious lesson. At the reading of which the Father used to interpose upon occasion, explain­ing more fully, enlarging, and vehemently in­culcating upon the minds of the Auditors, the things read: continuing his discourse sometimes a whole hour (with great satisfaction to the hearers) dialogue-wise▪ asking some of the com­pany their opinions of such a thing. Afterward by his appointment one of them went up into the desk raised upon steps, and made an Oration, without flourishes or varnish of Language, com­posed out of the approved and choice lives of Saints, Sacred writ, and sentences of the H. Fa­thers. He that succeeded him discoursed after the same manner, but on a differing matter. Then followed a third, who related some part of the Church-story in the order of its severall ages. E­very of these had his half-hour allotted him, and [Page 46] performed all with marvailous delight and ap­probation: then, singing some Hymn, and go­ing to prayers again the company broak up. All things thus ordered, and ratified by the Pope, as far as the times would suffer, that beautifull face of the Primitive Apostolicall assembling seemed to be revived again; whereat all good men re­joycing, and many taking their modell from them, the like exercises of piety were set up and practi­sed in other places.’ Thus far Baronius to shew the rise and originall of the Oratory.

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

Besides some of them every Saturday evening, and on Holiday eves came to Philip, whom he took with him by night from S. Hieroms, to the Churches ei­ther of S. Maria supra Minervam, or S. Bonaven­ture on Mount Quirinall, (for then a Covent of Capuchin [...] dwelt there) where they went to Mat­tens with the Friers in the Quire, and spent all the night in prayer and meditation, that so in the morning they might receive the B. Sacrament with greater gusts and relishes of devotion. The number of them was sometimes so great, that you should see [Page 47] the Quires of the Regulars and Religious filled with secular and Lay persons. Philip for divers years used almost every night to frequent those Church­es, whom, upon a signall that was betwixt them, the Porter let in; and the Dominicans freely granted him the keys of their Monastery, to come in at plea­sure.

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

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

In every Church, except those two mentioned, [Page 48] one of their own, or some other made a short ser­mon to the people: but when they came to S. Se­bastians or S. Stevens Church, Mass was celebrated with all solemnity, where all of them well nigh received the Sacrament. Thence they went to the gardens of the Maximi or Cresscentii, and some­times to those of the Matthaei in Mount Caelius (yet at this day they (with their permission) visit those only of the Matthaei) in which every one sitting in his order, a table was furnished with bread and wine sufficient, and an egg, a piece of cheese, with an apple added thereto. At dinner the Singers entred singing and playing to some holy Antheme: when table was taken away, they went to the other Churches; and so home, every one greatly re­joycing.

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

How pleasing a work unto God that was, though it appeared not by down-right miracles, yet was no­tably declared by sundry divine intimations. Once as his manner was, he went about Carnevall-time to these Churches, and in the way from S. Pauls to S. Sebastians arose on the suddain so great a tem­pest, that all thought of betaking them to their heels; but Philip bade them, Stay and be confident for I will warrant,-none that goes with me shall suffer much by this storme.

These devout usages so piously introduced by the R. Father were commended by divers reputed [Page 49] both for gravity and learning: among which John Rubeus in his book dedicated to Philip honours them with these elogies.

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

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

NOw some of the chief Florentines duly weigh­ing the abundant advantages that accrued to many by the above mentioned exercise, as like­wise with what diligence and discretion Philip go­verned his society, they endeavoured might and main to get him to undertake the government and care of S. Johns Church among them. To which [Page 50] purpose in the year 1564. they sent some to request him in the name of them all to accept of the employment, and to tender him a dwelling with all requisites: His answer was, that he must consider of it and make his prayers to God; and if he found it to be Gods will, he would soon satisfie their desires. Within a few days when they came again he told them plainly, he could by no means leave S. Hieroms, where he had resided so long. At which answer, Bernardine Cyril at that time Master of the Hospitall of the H. Ghost in Saxia, and John Baptist Altovitus with Peter Antonio Bandinus, who were employed in the business, repair to Pope Pius the fourth, entreating him to make use of his authori­ty therein; whom having assured to them, they returne, and acquaint Philip that the Popes minde was, he should govern that Church: when, with all submission to Christs Vicar he accepted of it; but on condition, that he should not be compelled to leave S. Hieroms, which was grant­ed him.

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

Not long after were added to them Francis Ma­ria Taurusius, with Angelus Vellius of Praeneste of an unblemished and even Angelicall life, who was the third Prefect of the Congregation after Philip: and [Page 51] being fourscore and five years old died in peace the tenth of December, after he had seen the solemn Canonization of the R. Father.

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

Mass was also solemnly celebrated; which ended, Baronius and Bordinus, at the suit of the Florentines, with Philips consent, preached publikly by turns. At the usuall hour Vespers were sung in the Church, after which they either met the B. Father at S. Ma­ry's supra Minervam, or S. Mary's ad Martyres, or [Page 52] where else he appointed; and there Philip or some other propounding some pious subject or theme, sometimes one, sometimes another, answerd at the pleasure of the Father, so passing the time in di­vine conferences, and spirituall exercises.

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

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

Ten years had now passed, when the Florentines observing the many and great inconveniences those Priests sustained, requested Philip, that the service in use at S. Hieroms Oratory might be transferred [Page 53] to S. Johns, He assented. So in the year 1574. on the fifteenth of April in S. Johns Oratory enlarged for that purpose the Fathers began their accustomed familiar sermons. In such wise that Juvenall An­cina afterward Priest of the Oratory, then Bishop of Saluciae, a holy man (about annexing whom to the Catalogue of Saints, writings were drawn by A­postolical authority, and his course of life and ver­tuous deeds of late years writ) much conversant in those duties, and taken with Philips piety, and Institution, writes thus in a certain letter to Frier John Mattheo living at Fossanum.

‘Some days ago (this was in 1576) I used to frequent the Florentines Oratory dedicated to S. John, where every day were sermons made by 4 or 5 concerning vice and vertue, Ecclesiastical History, or the lives of Saints exceeding profita­ble. Hither come Persons of honour; Nobles, Pre­lates, Bishops, &c▪ Sermon ended, they adde some harmonious Airs to recreate the Auditors. A while since they very excellently and lively ex­emplified the actions of S. Francis, and S. Anto­ny of Padua: and the truth is, the hearers re­ceive much spirituall comfort and content by the explication of such stories: and I am sorry, that I heard no sooner of those wholsome and lauda­ble exercises. Their Preachers are the choicest men, such as are in H. Orders, and reputed for holiness and vertue. Their Chief and Gover­nour is a Venerable Priest named Philip, of sixty years of age, one eminent in many respects, principally for his holy life, prudence, and sin­gular dexterity both in contriving and promo­ting such religious performances. He is reported to be the Author of that famous custome, which [Page 54] we beheld last Jubile practised with so great de­votion and charity at the Church of the Most H. Trinity, which hath its name from Pilgrims: withall, the Fathers Toletus, Possevinus, and di­vers others highly honour him: lastly, sundry per­sons have recourse to him as an Oracle, not from the City only, but out of Italy, France, and Spain, and other remote Provinces.’ So Juvenal. By which may be gathered in what reputation the Institution of the Oratory then flourished.

CHAP. XVI The Persecutions and affronts he suffered.

YEt, to take our rise a little higher, these reli­gious usages, which should rather have gain­ed him respect and love with all, did to some for­lorn miscreants administer matter of spite and ca­lumny. For, when at first he held discourses of Spirituall things in his chamber, every day after dinner; and applyed himself to hear Confessions, many that maligned him began privately to whisper and in time openly decry him, prating what came next. The Ringleader of them was Vincentius Tec­cosius of Fabrianum, a Physitian, one of the four De­puty-Governours of the place, to whom gathered two Apostates, that lived there disguised under a reli­gious habit; these at Teccosius's instigation used all means to drive Philip thence. For being Sacrists by place, as soon as they saw him coming to the Vestry, they would shut the door against him, deny him the Vestments, or bring him such as were torn, sometimes take the Chalice or Missall out of his [Page 55] hands, or hide them; otherwhiles make him pull off the H. garments being vested, and go from one Altar to another to and fro; as soon as ever he was gone forth of the Vestry to say Mass, call him back again; by these injuries and provocations to make him leave S. Hieroms.

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

Some two years after, one of these Apostates set upon Philip one day, railing and inveighing a­gainst him with such inveterate malice and rancour, that the other who was by, pittying the good man [Page 56] flew with so great violence upon his fellow, catch­ing him by the throat, that, but for Philip he had throtled him. Whereupon considering how villa­nously he himself also had dealt by him, and re­membring his former Religious vows made, he dis­closes the whole business in order to the H. man; and by his directions betook him to a Regular life again, always after crying up the Sanctity of Philip.

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

Yet was not all malice against him thus extin­guished, all calumnies laid asleep; nay he was af­terward worse abused by other profane persons. For they objected, that it was out of pride, that he went to the 7 Churches, with such sholes of peo­ple; that it suted not with one, who despised the vanity of the world, by gathering multitudes to turne the eyes of the whole City on himself. O­thers looking onely on the summs of mony spent then in victualls, not regarding the number of per­sons, ascribed all to revellings and gluttony. The Politici [...]ns blamed him with pretensions of care unto publike peace; for that so great a confluence would occasion uproars and tumults. All which was told Philip again, who took it patiently with­out any disturbance.

The bruit hereof increased daily, till it came at last to the Prelate that was Deputy of the City, who, moved by the reports of them that bore a spleen to Philip, sent for him, and reprehends him sharp­ly: [Page 57] Is it not a shame, saith he, that you who profess a contempt of the world, should hunt for popular ap­plause, and walk thorow the City guarded with troops, with such nets as these fishing for Church preferments? When having shrewdly taunted him with such like expressions, he prohibits him the hearing Confessions for fifteen dayes; and to use the customes of the Ora­tory, but by leave first obtained; or to lead about with him any companies of men; threatning impri­sonment upon his disobedience. Neither would he let him depart, till he had put in security for his ap­pearance. Philip with a pleasing and [...]omposed coun­tenance answered; That as he had begun all things, which he had instituted, with the glory of God, so like­wise was he ready to desist from all, for the same glory of God, that he ever should prefer his Superiors directions before his own desires: that he had taken up that usage of visiting the Churches, out of no other end, but to divert his from those dangers of sinning, which at such times as Shrovetide, use to be most rife. The Deputie replyed, Come you do all this, not for the glory of God, but to make a party for your self. At which, Philip wistly eying the Crucifix that stood there, said, Lord thou knowest whether I do it to make me a party; and so went his way. But be­cause he highly prized the vertue of obedience, es­pecially to his Superiors, he presently forbade his sons to come to him at all.

Meantime, while the good man was commending himself to God, having intreated divers Religi­ous persons to be instant in prayer about this busi­ness: one day on the sudden appeared a Priest in a rough garment tied about with a rope, neither known by face, or seen ever before or after that day, who said, I am sent to bid you expose the H. [Page 58] body of our Lord, for the people to adore, with the solemn supplication of the forty hours, by the Sove­raigne patronage whereof all persecutions shall be cha­sed away, for so it was revealed from heaven to cer­tain servants of God. Then coming to Francis Ma­ria Taurusius he whispers in his ear these words; This trouble shall be quickly over, and the work that is begun be more strongly confirmed; they who resist now, shall assist hereafter; and if any one shall dare to oppose it any longer, God shall speedily avenge it on him: the Prelate that is your chiefest adversary shall certainly dye within fifteen days: this said, he va­nished out of sight. And it fell out precisely as was foretold: for the Prelate (the Popes Deputie) rela­ing the proceedings to his Holiness somwhat parti­ally dyed suddenly; which coming to Philips knowledge, he pittying his sad end would never let any of his utter so much as a word to his dis­paragement.

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

But when Pope Paul the fourth heard the whole cause, and evidently discovered Philips integrity, he sent him, as a token of his good affection, two wax tapers, of those that use to be light up in the Popes Chappel on Candlemas day: letting him know that he not only granted him free leave to visit the seven Churches, but to exercise all the duties [Page 59] belonging to his institution: and that it was his unhappiness, that he could not be present at those religious performances. At which his sons were o­verjoy'd, and a while after went with the B. Fa­ther (as they were wont) to the 7 Churches, to render thanks to the Divine goodness, that the tempest now blown over, they might freely observe the Orders of the Oratory.

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

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

While these religious persons were busy about the Popes commands, the Pope himself tels Alexan­der Medices, Ambassadour for the great Duke of Tuscany, that he had heard, how the Fathers, Prea­chers at S. Hieroms had unwisely or unwarily let some things slip them; particularly, out of the A [...]ts of S. Apollonia, that she voluntarily flung her self into the fire, without adding, that shee had done it, by speciall impulse of the H. Ghost. Alexander dismissed by the Pope goes to S. Mary's su­pra Minervam to hear a sermon, where Germanicus Fidelius meets him, and intreats him from Philip he would vouchsase to visit him as soon as might be, [Page 60] for he would fain speak with him; praying his ex­cuse, being so lame on one of his feet that he could not stir out of bed. After dinner he goes to Philip, but first to sermon; where came up Francis Maria Taurusius, who so handsomely interpreted that action of Appollonia, with its due caution and such facility, that he untied the knots of all those dif­ficulties which the Pope had communicated to Alex­ander. Sermon ended, the Ambassadour went to Philip, who immediatly questioned him, what passed betwixt the Pope and him, that morning, about the affairs of the Oratory. He astonished which way he came to know any thing of it ingenu­ously confessed all to him.

But those Religious men, the Pope sent to the Oratory, after a strict view of all that was done there, acquainted his Holiness, they heard no­thing but what consisted well with piety and Learn­ing; He rejoycing exceedingly, that there were even in his days men at Rome, that so profitably dispensed the word of God dayly to the people; and thence forward both Philip and his Sons were in such favour with him, that he joyned Taurusius in commission with his Nephew the Cardinall of A­lexandria, going Embassadour to the King of Spain, France, and Portugall, giving him instructions at large of all that was to be treated of.

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

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

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

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

Having possession of this Church, he appoints [Page 62] over it, Germanicus Fidelius and John Antony Luccius, men of known integrity: but because it was too nar­row and something ruinous, they thought of bring­ing it to some better form; they were desirous in­deed to rebuild it from the foundation; but their mony being short they waved that. When sud­denly one day, betimes in the morning Philip by divine inspiration commands the old Church to be utterly rased, and a new one raised in the form and bigness as we see at this day.

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

As the building went up their enemies raged still [Page 63] worse, hindering the workmen, slandering the so­ciety; with cross-bows and stones pelting John Antony Luccius Overseer of the work: but alas! seven Brothers there were that opposed the business mainly, who died all within two years through the Divine vengeance.

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

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

The wonderfull confidence in God which Philip had for his atchieving this enterprise, may be con­cluded [Page 64] from hence, that when there was no stock he adventured on so costly a structure, and com­pleated it in two years: oft saying when his money was spent, God will supply us; and coming some­times to a prime Lady in Rome he would tell her, Madam, you must know the B. Virgin and my self have made a bargain, that I shall not dye till the Church be covered. Many therefore imagined that, seeing he never craved of any, and yet day­ly disbursed such a deal of Money, either God furnished him, or miraculously increased his store.

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

And to shew that he never asked any ones bene­volence, it is not amiss to adde this which followes. One of the Congregation, who had to do with the building, on a time told him, Father, the mony is spent, and yet the walls reach not to the roof: Doubt not, saith he, God will never be wanting to his Children. He replies; There is a rich man in the City that useth to distribute a large part of his revenues to pious uses, if he were acquainted with our wants, he would happily help us with a good summ; at which Philip; The man knows in what need the building is, if he be minded he may freely contribute, for hitherto I have asked none, and yet have found no lack of any thing: and so it fell out, that within a few moneths a noted Lawer dying [Page 65] bequeathed to the Congregation 4000 crowns, and more; and soon after another Lawyer died, and left 8000 by Will.

CHAP. XVIII. Philip removes to Vallicella.

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

But the Fathers, considering how much it im­ported to have a head to their body, and seeing all means of changing Philips minde ineffective, repair to Cardinal Peter Donatus Caesius, and beseech him that he would impart the matter to his Holiness, and by Authority from Him procure, what they neither of themselves, nor by others could obtain. Caesius very readily undertakes it, certifying Pope Gregory XIII. of the Fathers request: who assenting to it, forthwith enjoyns the Cardinal to tell Philip from him, that he must to Vallicella. As soon as Philip understood the Popes pleasure, bowing his head, without dispute he presently obeyes. And in the year 1583. on the 22^d. of November, being the Anniversary of S. Cecilia Virgin and Martyr, to the incredible joy of his, he went from S. Hieroms [Page 66] to Vallicella: but though he shifted his station, he held the old course of life, he had prescribed him­self at S. Hieroms: and that he might the better attend on the contemplation of things celestial, he chose him a chamber in the higher and privater part of the house.

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

CHAP. XIX. The Rules of the Oratory.

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

Which charge having accepted of, he enacted, that all who would be admitted into his Congrega­tion [Page 67] should retain the state and condition of Priests Secular, not binding themselves by any oath or vow: alledging, that if any had a minde to a more perfect kinde of life, there were Houses of Regulars, where they might consummate those holy desires; but it was enough for them of the Congregation of the Oratory to serve God in the bond of mutual Charity, and aiming at the Salvation of themselves and others, to apply themselves wholly to prayer, the administration of the Word, that heavenly re­past, and promoting a more frequent use of the Sa­craments.

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

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

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

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

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

To these daily Sermons he added frequent pray­ers; [Page 69] for he gave order that the doors of the Ora­tory should be opened every day for all sorts of men, but no women: where for half an hour they used mental prayer, recited Letanies and other pray­ers, as in the Constitutions is mentioned more at large, and so dissolved their meeting. He enjoyned that on Mondayes, Wednesdayes and Fridayes, they should scourge themselves with cords, in memory of the Passion of our Lord, yet every one at his own discretion.

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

For matters of the house, he desired his should chuse a mean, doing nothing that was singular. At times of refection, besides the usual reading, which lasted somewhat above half the meal, the rest of the spare time was spent in propounding a couple of Questions by turns, morning and evening, either [Page 70] pertaining to Morality, or taken out of Sacred Writ, or the heads of Positive Divinity; which were modestly and briefly answered to by them at table, according to every ones sense.

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

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

In other things he governed his Body with much prudence and caution, and so demeaned himself, that he cemented his own fast together in indisso­luble bands of love and concord: affirming it was harder then men imagined to preserve long unity [Page 71] among such as were otherwise at liberty, and out of subjection; which nothing doth more facilitate or sweeten, than gentle conduct and moderate com­mands. Yet did he never, when there was need of it, slacken or remit the reins of government; ha­ving some of his so at command, that with a look or beck he could rule them as he pleased: and it was usual with him, whensoever he would reprove any of them, but to look sternly, and 'twas enough.

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

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

‘I must accuse my self indeed for writing no­thing [Page 72] to you all this while, were it but to thank you for your prayers to God for me. I now defray that debt; and as effectually as, I can, both thank and entteat you, together with your Scholars my dearest dear Children, to whom I dayly wish greater increase in vertue, hereafter to do the same still. Cherish Good Father, che­rish those young and tender plants, dressing them to the likeness of their fair Precedent, the Tree of which they are Branches: the same way and course You steer, conduct them: and be as­sured, Our B. Parent still lives, sees, and orders his, holding a scourge in his hand to chastise the unruly. For my self, I beg of you, R. Father, to rank me among your Novices, punishing my faults without favour or delay. I would to God I could thus grow young again, verifying that of the Prophet in me, Renovabitur ut aquilae juventus tua. Thy youth shall be renewed like the Eagles. For this, I take it, is the meaning of Abishags cherishing David spent with travail; namely, when the heat of the spirit meets with old age. Certainly Abishag (as you well know) lay with our H. Father, who in his very last years felt such heats, as he thought himsef in a manner burnt up therewith. Not furrs, nor purple can warm the aged, but Abishag alone: O let me obtain this favour of God, let me procure this by prayer to enjoy her embraces in this last cold season of my life; since this alone hath induced me to write. So God bless and sanctifie you.’ Ferra­ra. August 14. 1598. Caesar Baronius Cardinal.

Lastly, as to domestique affaires, He was very cautious not to wast the goods of the Congregation, being the Patrimony of Christ, and stock of the [Page 73] Poor: wherein he was so carefull, that he would let nothing be disbursed more than needs must: al­ledging that which Cassian writes of a Cook, whom the Fathers sharply reproved, for but wasting three grains of Lentils: and that of S. Antonine Archbi­shop of Florence, who went into the Church a nights, and studied by the light of the Lamp, lest (as he said) he should impair the Poors maintenance. And if any judged it too great rigor, he replyed; Away with that nicety: so the goods belong not to the Church do what you will with them.

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

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

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

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

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

Baronius was ill at his Stomack, and if he eat never so little, it became very offensive to him; besides such a headach that Philip for bad him to use much prayer, or do any thing that might take up his thoughts. So coming one day after dinner to the B. Father, as he used, there lay in the Cham­ber by chance a Limon and a pretty big loaf: Phi­lip bad him, Caesar, take that limon and that loaf and eat them up. Baronius thinking on the merit of Obedience, crossing himself forthwith did so, and [Page 75] recovered of either infirmity, both that of his sto­mack and his head. The same Baronius testifies, that for 9 years together going every day to attend the sick at the Hospitall of the H. Ghost by Philips appointement, coming thither with a fever oftimes upon him, he went home perfectly well having performed those charitable offices.

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

Vincentius Crescentius, Cardinall Crescentius's own Brother, a hopefull youth asked leave of Philip to go to a certain Church with some civill associates about his own age (for without his leave nothing might be done) and it being granted, went: when in the coming back Vincentius fell out of the coach, and the coach wheel ran over his leg; but he got up unhurt, and hying a foot to Philip told him of it, who bid him, Attribute it wholly to your obedience [Page 76] for had you not desired leave you had doubtlesse broak your leg.

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

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

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

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

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

A young man, whose name is purposely omit­ted, contrary to the H. Fathers minde had con­tracted acquaintance; which he hearing presaged he would come to an unfortunate end. Within few days killing his fellow he fled from Rome, whi­ther none knew.

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

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

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

To this purpose he was wont to produce select Aphorismes. as first: ‘That those who intended to proceed in Christian discipline should submit themselves wholly to the commands of their Su­periours: those that were under no tye of sub­jection should be rul'd by some able and discreet Confessor, and do nought without his advice; al­ledging, that they which did so, should render no account to the Supream Judge for actions of that sort. Yet he willed every one seriously to deliberate on the choice of his Confessor, after which election not to leave him, except for very weighty and necessary reasons: for (saith he) the devill, unable to engage men in horrid crimes, strives amain to make Penitents distrust­full of their Confessors; that, whom he cannot apparently subvert, having stoln from them their Spirituall guide, he might secretly supplant. He said further, That the shor test cut to Perfection was Obedience; more valluing them who for love to so noble a vertue lived but an ordinary kind of life under Obedience, than those who voluntarily practised the most rigid austerities. Withall he wished them, to accustome themselves to Obedi­ence in the least things, for by this means it would [Page 79] become easier to them in the Greater.’

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

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

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

CHAP. I. His Devotion and Love to God.

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

This ardour of Divine Charity so scorched his heart that sometimes the B. man would even lan­guish for love; and at other times whether he stood or walked, his tongue would fly out in various ex­pressions of holy affections. For once beginning (though not heeding it) these words of the Apostle, Cupio, stopping on the sudden he suppressed the rest; Dissolvi, & esse cum Christo. i. e. I desire— [Page 82] to be dissolved and to be with Christ: another while ravished with the excesses of the Spirit he brak forth into that of S. Paul; repletus sum consolatione, super­abundo gaudio. I am filled with comfort, I over­bound with joy.

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

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

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

As oft as he was sick, and the B. Sacrament brought him, as it used to be, after midnight, if the Priest came not just at the time, he was so dis­quieted in himself that he could not rest: insomuch [Page 83] as being once dangerously ill, and hearing the Bell for Mattens, none having brought him his heaven­ly repast; for Taurusius delayed the time lest he might disturb his rest, he knowing the reason cals Taurusius and tels him, Think not that this will be a means to keep me awake, but reach hither my Lord, and I shall instantly fall asleep. So receiving the Bread of Angels, having soon after slept a while he began to be bettter, and quickly recovered. A­nother time being ill, as Antony Gallonius held the Eucharist in his hand, tarrying longer than ordi­nary ere he gave it him, he not able to wait longer said, Ah, Antony, why keepest thou my Lord in thy hand, and givest him not to me so passionately desiring him? when having taken the H. Communion he fel into a pleasing slumber.

The same mind and affections he desired to im­plant in all his; exciting all Priests of the Congre­gation to say Mass every day, unlesse they were hindred by some urgent occasion or let; nor would he take the excuses of those, who for some relaxa­tion to their minds remitted the frequency of say­ing Mass. For saith he, who ever looks for recrea­tion but from his Creator, or consolation, but from Christ, shall never finde either true recreation or so­lace. He was very desirous that Lay-persons should oft partake of this Sacrament: therefore at his in­stance some of them every eighth day, some every Holy-day, others, but those were few, every day feasted on this Angelicall food. Yet he more fre­quently perswaded them to the Sacrament of con­fession, than of the Altar.

Being to say Mass he was so rapt in contem­plation of celestiall things, that he was fain to divert his mind another way, for fear of Trances: and [Page 84] oftimes you might have seen the Good man stand still a­while, ‘His rapts at Mass were testified by the Cardinals, Paravi­sini and Tarugi, upon oath, and by a­bove twenty more Witnesses.’ and give over at the time of celebration, by several sleights and actions to shun those surprises. Wherefore if he said Mass publikly in the Church, he admited none in at­tendance but such as were fa­miliarly known to him. And yet nothing inde­cent or unseemly fell from him in such fits and Vi­olences; but he rather provoked the standers by to piety and devotion.

When he came to that part of the Mass called the Offertory, This was known in a manner to all the City. his heart so leap­ed for joy within him, that albeit he was of full strength, of a good age, and free from any inclination to Palsies, he could never powre the Wine into the Chalice till he rested his elbow on Card. Tarugi Testi­fied this upon Oath. something: yet did he at no time spil the least drop of either the Blood or Wine.

‘At the Elevation of the Hoast,’ many times his hands would continue a long while together held up, and sometimes Card. Tarugi witnessed this upon Oath. he was raised a handfull or more from the ground. Therefore to a­void such like accidents, which he suffred against his will; he set down the Hoast as soon as ever he had but lift it up.

In receiving of the B. Bread he found such deli­cacy, and such a flavor, as if swallowing the pleasing­est sweet-meats: and therefore he picked out the [Page 85] thickest wafers for that purpose, that so the H. Spe­cies might last the longer, and he thereby enjoy more of the presences of his Saviour.

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

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

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

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

Besides, administring the Sacraments to others, he was so enflamed with pious ardours that his whole [Page 86] body trembled. Insomuch as a Woman then but newly converted to the faith, reports that she saw the Servant of God holding a Pixe in his hand, whose body did so shake, that the H particles were seen raised up on high out of the Pixe, and he himself with an aspect like fire, who presently grew pale as ashes.

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

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

He was ravished with devotion to the most sa­cred Passion of our Lord. And therefore had he by him a brazen Crucifix, the body whereof he could take from the cross, and by putting it to his lips or breast satisfie his devout affections. From this continuall meditation on our Saviours Passion, grew his so vehement desire of going to the Indies [Page 87] to lay down his life for Christ. But not obtaining this wish of his, the Merciful Lord answered his de­sires in another kind, for, like that H. Virgin Luth­garda, he was Christs Martyr in designe, though not in event, shedding blood for blood. Yea he bled at the mouth so excedingly all his life, that he seemed many times to have quite lost his sight and pulse. In which most sweet languishment he was wont to say; O Good Jesu, that I could for thy sake poure out my blood, till, at least in part, I have an­swered thy incomparable love.

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

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

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

He spent whole nights in prayer to her. At S. Hieroms he fell so desperately ill, that his Doctor, [Page 88] appointed one to watch with him; who one night heard the H. man (supposing none nere him) in most friendly and familiar expressions talking with the Virgin of Virgins; that the whole night seemed to him gone like a minute; and when in the morn­ing it rung to the Angels salutation, he mistook it for the evening.

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

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

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

When the Fathers were busy in pulling down the old Church, he that overlooked the work, bid the Ma­sons by no means deface that part of the building where was kept a very ancient Pourtraicture of the B. Virgin: but Philip one day betimes in the morning commands them without delay to take down that Roof, for he had seen our B. Lady that night hold­ing, [Page 89] it up with her hand, they did so, and viewing the place they espy a beam hanging in the air loose from the wall, and amazed at the miracle, they shouted, and applying their engines took down the roof. This is that Image of our Lady which at this day is seen on the great Altar.

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

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

He had a high esteem of the Saints Reliques; yet would very hardly suffer any of his Disciples to re­serve them in their private custody, both because [...]o in tract of time they finde less respect, and for that they are often lost by unskilful heirs that know not their worth. For, saith he, Churches and places consecrate are most proper for them. Yet was he not absolutely against it, for one to keep them decently and devoutly by him: nay himself had in his chamber a box full of Sacred Reliques. And here must not be forgot what hapned after his de­cease, while the box was in Baronius's keeping. An­tony Francus a Regular Clerk fell ill at Rome, and the Physicians giving him over he received the celestial Viaticum; when Baronius coming to see him brought [Page 90] those Reliques mentioned, puting them unto his brest, and for his ease and satisfaction left them with him. That night being in a dangerous fit, taking the Box he prayed to God, that of his good­ness, and for the merits of the B. Philip, he would help him: in the midst of which thoughts he fals asleep, and in the morning when he wakn'd found his disease gone, and in short time perfectly re­covered.

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

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

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

Lavinia de Rusticis, Wife to Fabricius de Maxi­mis, [Page 91] had somewhat a mean opinion of Philip, be­fore she chose him for her Confessor; but when she heard him discourse of heavenly things with such zeal and ardent affection, she fell in love with Christ presently, and put her self under the tuition of the Servant of God; yea she, who but now intended matters the world, having once tasted of the Spirit, con­fessed her sins thrice a week, and as oft received the H. Sacrament. And having learnt of Philip to de­spise the world, and afflict her self, she gave her minde so much to prayer, that she had many times Raptures, and when she died, Philip affirmed that she enjoyed the Glory of the Blessed in heaven.

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

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

They that prayed with him were so enamoured on religious duties, that continuing in prayer for many hours together, they thought the time no­thing. One of them having spent an hour in pray­er, deemed it but as a minute, saying, O that I were alwayes thus piously affected, how gladly would I pray with Philip continually

He was at hearing Confessions, many times so en­kindled [Page 92] with sacred fire, that divers of his Sons as oft as he held them close to his brest at the instant of Absolution, felt themselves revived with unutte­rable spirituall sweetness and delight.

John Atrina a Campanian, and most intimate with the B. man, hath these words. ‘As oft as I entred within Philips chamber, though I were possessed with extream joy, yet I confess I shook all over: as oft likewise as his Soveraign hand ei­ther touched my shoulder, took me by the locks, or plucked me by the ear, straight my mind swarmed with holy and devout cogitations; as though some speciall inspiration of Divine grace had from heaven breathed upon my heart, where­by I was driven in a sort to the Altar of the H. Sacrament to Prayer.’

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

CHAP. IV His Gift of Tears.

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

A Young Noble man had for shame concealed some sins of his in Confession, Philip observed it; and looking earnestly on him lets fall a showre of tears; whereby he procured of God for his Penitent such hearty sorrow for sin, that he likewise burst out in­to tears very plentifully: they both wept, were both silent; neither of them left weeping for a good space, at length the young man fals down on his knees, detects all the foul corners of his consci­ence to him; whom the B. Father affectionately embracing, and accepting his Confession, dismissed, assoiled of his faults, and satisfied in his mind. But Philip, being of a most mild temper, had not wept e­nough; till hying to his chamber, he there let lose the reins to his sorrows, to the full. After which the young man discovered to his former con­fessor the sins of his whole life; and within few days comes and tels Philip, how he had disclosed all: to whom the Father answered, Though I heard not the Confession of your life, yet be sure, I exactly know all and every of the faults you have ever committed. [Page 94] Nay more then that, I tell you, now you carry a good face with you: (which kind of expression the H. man used when he saw any of his reclaimed:) he re­plied, I beseech you, Father, that you would obtain sin­cere contrition for me by your prayers to God; and had scarse spoke the word, but he was immediately struck from heaven with so profound a grief, as he said, he never felt a greater in all his life.

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

A certain Prelate surprized him once on the sud­den, as he was reading the Lives of Saints, weeping excessively; who asking him, Father, what doth this weeping m [...]an? he jestingly answered, May not I grieve, who am an Orphan bereft of both my Parents? at which the Prelate smiled, and he both handsome­ly and wisely smothered the cause of his sorrow­ing. Another time Angelus Victorius a Physician, one, whom the Father loved, took him reading and crying over the lives of the Saints, when de­manding the reason of his heaviness, I lament saith, he, that this Saint, whose story is in my hands, renounced the world, whereas I have never yet done the least good: [Page 95] and added, what, O Angelus, If thou shouldest see me beaten with cudgels thorow the City? Thou wouldest say, spare, O spare that Good Philip, who professed so great Sanctity. Nay rather lay on, Executioner, lay on soundly: and as he uttered these words the tears trickled down his cheeks.

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

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

When he was once very sick, they gave him Cock- [Page 96] broth to drink, but taking the Porrenger in his hand, he wept exceedingly; saying, Thou, ô my Sa­viour, hangedst on the Tree, and am I served in my bed, amidst so many delights, so many conveniences, so great attendance? which as he repeated again and again, such a flood of Tears followed, that he was not able to drink.

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

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

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

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

CHAP. V. His Prayers.

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

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

Many a time, whilst his Scholars were discussing several and serious matters in his Chamber, be dis­engaged from their affairs, either cast up his eyes to heaven, or crossed his hands, or sometimes fetched groans from the bottom of his heart. As he walked the streets hee was so swallowed up of contempla­tion, that ever and anon he must be plucked by the sleeve, and put in minde to offer, or returne, Sa­lutes. After dinner, that he might not injure the health of his body by too much intention of the minde, when he had a desire to slumber or to rest him, he was wont to call Gallonius and tell him, You know what to do, if you would have me sleep: mean­ing, that he must call off his thoughts from the consideration of things supernaturall, by variety of discourse, or some pleasant reading for that pur­pose. Indeed he felt that in himself, which he used to apply in generall to others: to wit, That a [Page 98] man enflamed with the Love of God must arrive to that heighth of Chariy, as to be constrained to cry out; Let me alone Lord, let me rest a while: for whoever is indisposed to pray even at Noon, and after meals, hath not yet received the Gift of Prayer.

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

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

In the Winter after Sun-set, he prolonged his [Page 99] Prayers to the second or third hour of the night: and going to rest, that he might rise again to pray­er just at his time, he hung his Watch at the Beds head, by feeling of which he knew what a clock it was: and hard by his Crucifix he laid the Rosary of our Lady, that when he wakened he might fall to his Prayers.

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

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

To Prayer he added Reading, and the daily per­using Saints Lives, alledging that, There was no better incentive to Piety then the Examples and Rules of Saints. Besides those lives gathered by Lippo­man, he commonly used Cassians Collations; the Imitation of Christ, father'd on Gerson; the Life of S. Katherine of Siena; and above all, the Acts of the B. John Columbine. For the Books of H. Scrip­ture: [Page 100] he delighted much in S. Pauls Epistles. Those whom he designed for preachers he counselled to read their works chiefly whose names began with S. as S. Augustine▪ S. Gregory; S. Bernard; and the rest.

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

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

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

The Instructions given by him upon this subject were these. First, he said, ‘The best Prepara­tive [Page 102] to Prayer was for a man to think himself un­worthy of so high a Service. Next, the frequent using to master our affections: being wont to say He that went to pray, and could not bridle and sub­due his Passions, was like a Bird not fledged, yet offering to fly. Being entreated by one of his Pe­nitents to teach him to pray, Be humble and obe­dient, saith he, and the Unction of the H. Spirit will teach thee. He advised men to follow those inspirations God gave them at times of Prayer; as if he incited them to contemplate on the Passion of Christ, it were not fit to fly from it, to the Mistery of the Resurrection; no nor to desist from prayer, if their desires were not presently granted; but courageously to persevere, till they obtained their suits. He affirmed, that if in Prayer any one found his minde quiet and at ease, it signified either that what was asked was already bestowed, or without fail would be very speedily. He wished his Sons to be ambitious of performing the greatest services for the love of Christ, not contenting themselves with any mean degrees of Piety; but outvying (in Charity for example) if it were possible, the Apostles Peter and Paul: that so, what they could not attain to in in the work, they might in some sort arive at, in their intentions. Further, he warned them who gave themselves much to Prayer, not too earnestly or too long to gaze on holy pi­ctures, both because it did offend the brain, and brought on illusions. To such as lay under any spirituall aridity, he prescribed this remedy; that they should prostrate themselves before God and his Saints like beggars, craveing with e­quall importunity and desires their sacred Alms [Page 103] as the ordinary sort of Poor do corporal food: and therefore they should resort sometimes to one Church sometimes another, as it were to beg mens Charity from door to door. He coun­selled young Persons to meditate especially on the four last things; saying that, Those who went not to Hell in their life time, were in great danger of going thither at their deaths. He willed his humbly to recommend themselves to the prayers of others: and at no hand to omit Evening Prayer, and the Whippings used in the Oratory. A man without the use of Prayer, he said, was to be rank­ed among the Beasts.’ When the Physitian once en­joyned him to forbear his Meditation a while, for his health; after a few dayes, Wretch [...]d I, said he, who am already, me thinks, degenerated into a Brute beast! Lastly he averred, that the devil dreaded no­thing so much as Prayer, and therefore laboured to his uttermost to disturbed it.

CHAP. VI. His Zeal for the saving Souls.

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

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

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

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

John Thomas Arena, one steelled with impudence went sometimes to S. Hieroms Oratory, not to re­ceive benefit by the excellent Sermons there, but to deride the Preachers: which they of the Society not endureing complain to Philip, who told them, Sons, let him alone, and ye shall shortly see what God [Page 105] will do. Well, the young continued thus shame­lesly affronting them, till on a sudden reflecting on his villanous course, and relenting, he resigned up himself absolutely to the B. Fathers commands: soon after in a holy Zeal entring a house of the Do­minicans, where he died in his Noviceship.

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

A Priest, one honourably descended, had very fair revenews from an Ecclesiasticall Benefice, yet went brave and in coloured cloaths like a Lay-man. Him a young di [...]ciple of Philips (as they both walk­ed in the Cloyster at S. Maries supra Minervam) spying tels him, Sir, be pleased to know, there useth to come hither a Priest named Philip, whom if you but once speak with, you were a happy man. The Priest, liking his motion, consents, waits his coming, speaks with him. The good man said nothing to him, save [Page 106] that he should go to S. Hieroms to hear the Sermons: he did; went every day: mean while though Phi­lip conferred much and oft with him, yet not a word passed concerning his Garbe, or tonsure, his chief care was, to breed Remorse in him. When behold! some sixteen days after, he voluntarily lays a way his Lay-habit, comes to him shaven, con­fessed his sins from the first dawning of Reason in him; surrenders himself intirely to the R. Father, and being made one of his Sons travelled apace in his pursuit after Holiness, till at length full of years, he died, a little before Philips Canoniza­tion.

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

And therefore he never much inveighed against those garish dresses worn by women, but letting that pass, laboured chiefly to make them in love with Christ; knowing that if once the flames of Divine Love were kindled in them, of themselves they would cast off all such lightnesses. When a Noble Lady once asked him, whether it were any offence for her to help her low Stature by wearing Chapines; his answer was, Take heed, you fall not. One of his Scholars wore a Collar plaited in great folds, He gently taking him about the neck told [Page 107] him, I should hugg you oftner, but that that these wrin­kles hurt my fingers: and by this means both the the Lady left off her high Shoes; and the young man his fine Colars ever after.

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

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

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

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

CHAP. VII. His singular prudence in governing Youth.

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

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

His succesfull pains in training up Youth was so famed among the Regulars, that the Superiors would send their Novices to him for directions, as he thought best. Sundry times in the year he [Page 110] led all the Novices of the Dominicans to the 7 Church­es; and sometimes to beautifull green Plots where they were merry and dined; He, Good man, over­joy'd that they had so handsomely, and withall harmlesly, recreated both their bodies and minds; saying oft to them as they were at dinner, Eat, my Sons, eat and make no scruple now; for it doth me good to see you cheerful and pleasant. After dinner sitting on the ground he excited them to all sorts of Vertue, but especially to Constancy and Perseverance. So the day being spent, he brought them home from their innocent recreations.

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

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

Moreover the H. man would have young people by all means cheerfull; being offended, when he saw [Page 111] any sad; therefore he would strike them a box on the ear sometimes bidding them, Be merry: saying that, Those who were naturally pleasant were more tractable in the way of vertue, than the melancholique. Two Capuchins, an old and a young man, came one time to him, who looking upon them, and con­ceiving the younger, to have made farther progress in Piety, he purposed to make triall of his spirit; so, taking occasion, for that he had spit undecent­ly in his presence, he began to reprehend him sharply and looking angrily at him bid him, Hence away Sloven, where were you bred? and taking off his Shoe made as if he would hit him on the head. But he retaining the same chearfullness of counte­nance, held his peace, and gave him the hearing. The Elder of them, unconcerned rhe while, took it hainously, as being naturally sad. But Philip not satisfyed with once chiding, went on, Off with your Cloak, for you are not worthy to walk the Streets in such a habit. With all my heart, said he, especially having well dined to day, and being not as yet acold. Philip at that seeming to be more enraged, thrust him forth of the Chamber, who bore all patiently and without shew of dislike took his leave and de­parted. No sooner was he gone, but the H. man calling him again, hugging and embracing him said, Cheer up, my Son, go on in this sprightly and cheerful temper, for by this means you will soon attain to the top of Perfection: and so dismissed him.

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

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

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

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

And to preserve them unspotted from all impu­rity, he advised them, not to be alone in their Chambers after dinner; but meet together to re­fresh their minds with some vertuous communica­tion: affirming that that time was the Noon-day de­vill mentioned by the Royall Prophet. One thing allso he seriously pressed them to, that they should [Page 113] avoid the touching of one another, as they would the Plague; under whatever pretence of either kindred or kindnesse to each other: and that two alone should not be together in a place, especially that were both of an Age; which thing he enjoyn­ed to be observed most strictly, principally between the two Sexes. A certain Boy and his Sisters used to play together, which having once or twice discover­ed to his Confessor, he warned him ever after to for­bear it. The Lad knowing his own innocency, was troubled that his Confessor should urge it so much upon him: and being bid to consult Philip, he ac­quaints him with it: who asked him, what he stu­died? Logick saith he: Then know, said Philip, the Devil is a subtile Logician, who can teach men crafti­ly to abstract and say, she is a woman, not Sister. He straight acknowledged the inference, and thence forward left to sport himself with his Sisters.

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

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

Sebastian a Musitian of the Castle of S. Angelos, one of Philips Sons, and a very devout religious man, was sick of a disease that killed him; as he lay drawing on, the Devill appeared to him in an ugly and terrible shape, which apparition so af­frighted [Page 114] him, that he in a despair of mercy cried out, O miserable wretch that I am! O wo is me! now hath God Of this are four Witnesses upon Oath, who were present; two of them Priests. forsaken me, now am I consigned to Hels eternal flames, wo unto me forlorn creature! wo unto me! When he had lamented thus sad­ly some two hours, and found comfort from none▪ they called for the Curate of the Parish, whom the sick party would by no means see or hear, but saying he was undone, protested he gave no credit at all to the Priest. Those of the house dismayed hereat sent for Philip, who hying thither, as soon as ever he set his foot within the Chamber, asked, What's the matter? what's the matter? Fear nothing. He presently being put in hopes at that, cries aloud; Father Philip chaseth the Devils; they fly, and Phi­lip drives them before him. O miraculous power of Philip! Live Christ for ever, Live Philip, by whom I am recovered from the Pit of Hell; let the Oratory flourish. And then filled with consolation he sang some of the H. Lauds; at last stretching forth his hands, he broke out into these words, Behold the Angells, behold the Archangels! reckoning up the severall Quires; and in September on the Vigil of the Archangel S. Michael, he breathed out his Soul in the arms of the H. Father.

Persianus Rosa, Philips Confessor, being like­wise very sick, was grievously assaulted by the Devil, and in the midst of his conflicts and temptations would This was attested by an eye-witness. say, Tu judica me Deus, tu dis­cerne causam meam: Judge me ô God, and plead my cause. Lying on his bed, for [Page 115] fear tumbling to and fro. Meanwhile in comes Philip whom Persian looking on, said Holy Philip pray for me; adding, O thou Servant of God drive away, I beseech thee, that foul look'd dog that leaps upon me, lest I be torn in pieces, he forthwith kneel­ing down, desires those that were by to pray with him. Scarce had he bowed the knee, but Per­sian cryed out, God be thanked the dog is gone, the dog is fled, see he stands at the door. So rising from Prayer, he sprinkled both the sick man and his cham­ber with H. water; and the devils being expelled, the next day he quietly and joyfully died.

Gabriel Tana of Modena, one of Cardinal Politians Gentlemen, and of Philips first Scholars, who confes­sed his sins twice a week, and received the Sacrament; fell mortally sick when he was 18 years old: and having bin ill about Of this Jacobus Marmita writ a relation, who was present; as were likewise divers of Philips Sons. 20 dayes, and now about to dye; the devil instigating him there­to, he began most vehemently to wish he might recover his health. Philip coming every day to see him, asks him how he did; Ʋery well said he, for I hope I shall out grow this disease. He foreseeing his death, said to him, My son, give me your Will and your Nill, that when the Tempter comes you may answer, my Consent or Dissent is no more in my hands, but Christs. Gabriel assented; and Philip departed. When Mass was done, he returns to the sick person, and finds his mind changed; inso­much as he that a little while since was too desirous to live, now said with the Apostle, Cupio dissolvi, &c. I desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ: and putting the Crucifix to his brest and kissing it: he ex­horted them that stood by to contemn the gaudy [Page 116] vanities of the world; Believe me, said he, I dis­dain life, I desire heaven; Pray therefore, Father, that God would satisfie my longings, and before the fifth hour of the night I may fly hence unto my Saviour, You shall, replied the Father, obtain your requests, yet let me advertise you of this, that the Devil will use many stratagems to undo you; telling them all to him; and when he had done went his way, that he might give himself to Prayer. An hour after Philip was gone, comes the Enemy and tempts the Young man to presumption on his own worth; of which this was a mark. The Letanies for the dy­ing, as the custome is, were rehearsing, and when they came to those words, A mala morte libera eum Domine: Free him from an ill death ô Lord, Gabriel smiled, and shaking his head said; O he cannot dye amiss who carries Christ in his heart; when present­ly perceiving the wiles of the subtile Fiend, I be­seech you saith he, pray to Christ for me, for what I spake just now, was by suggestion of the devil. No sooner was he rid of that temptation, but the ad­versary redoubling his blows, labours with all his might to keep him from uttering the H. name of Jesus: thereupon he cries out; Alas, Brethren, I cannot possible express that which I most desire. What is that? said they, doth the Devil hinder you from mentioning the name of Jesus? At which he nodded, as being so: then they replyed Keep Jesus in your mind and that is enough. In the encounter he was fain to summon up all his powers, so that what with per­plexity of minde and motion of his body, he was all in a sweat. Then was Philip fetch'd, who shewing the B. Crucifix, whispers softly in his ear the most delicious and sacred Name of Jesus; which he oft repeated freely and readily at his pleasure: [Page 117] yet did not the wicked spirit depart; for not long after he sought to seduce him from the Catholique Faith; perswading him, that he should escape this sickness, all which he related to Philip, who bids him, Slight my Son, slight those Satanical cheats, and say the Creed with me. He pronounced the words often over, but seemed to himself not to pro­nounce them; which Philip perceiving bids those that were present rehearse the Symbol of the Apostles, which done, straight the temptation ceased. The sick person the while recollecting himself and re­suming courage defies his enemy in these expressi­ons, whether thou wilt or no, O thou damned apostate I do believe. At last the wily Tempter storms him afresh and more fiercely, employing his utmost to engulf him in a Hell of desperation. So assuming a deformed shape, he appears with a dreadfull aspect to the sick man, who appalled at the spectacle trem­bled every joint of him, changing his colour, rolling his eyes, and unable to maintain his standing, roars out in bitterness of Soul, O caytive that I am! ah what a number of horrid crimes have I committed? Beat away, Father, beat away those ugly Curres. Whereupon Philip laying his hand on the Patients head, thus bespake the Devil; And O thou Monster darest thou still oppose▪ I command thee hence immedi­ately, for these very hands have this morning handled the H. Body of Christ; and turning to the sick party, Take courage my Son, said he, and say with me Discedi­te a me, &c. Depart from me all ye workers of iniquity; which being done twice or thrice, Gabriel for joy cried out, The Dogs run away at Philips bidding: and pointing to them with his finger, do ye not see, saith he, with what speed they fly? we have overcome, O good God, we have overcome. Then turning his [Page 118] eyes to the Crucifix he began to pray to our Savi­our with such devotion, that all the standers by fell a weeping, and taking it in his hand, lifting up his head, he uttered many pious speeches; at length triumphing over the Devil, he upbraids his cowardise; but Philip fearing lest by these intensions of his mind his end possibly might be hastned, bad him, Peace, now peace, and be quiet, let us leave the divel. He was silent instantly, and the by-stan­ders hearing him speak so heartily conceived he would live to the next day; but Philip told them, No, he will not, for as soon as ever he stirs but out of his place, he will depart straight. Scarce half an hour after he turned him on his right side, and naming the B. Name of Jesus, dyed.

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

Nicolas Lilius, Priest of the Congregation, almost at last gasp encountring with the devil, thus obtained victory over This is com­monly known. his adversary. Philip was saying Mass, it seems in the little room a­bove mentioned; and praing more fervently than [Page 119] usually, on the sudden great noises were heard o­ver the Dining-room, as if huge stones had bin hurled too and fro: Philip then alone in the Chap­pell, calls Petrus Consolinus, and bids him, Go and bring him word how Nicolas doth: away goes he, and finds him sick, with his hands clasped and lift up to heaven, reiterating these words; Gratias a­gamus Domino Deo nostro; accessit, recessit, victus est. Let us give thanks to our Lord God, he came, he is gone, he is overcome. Consolinus informs Philip of all; who as his fashion was, said, 'Tis enough; and hyes him straight to Nicolas, who looking on him wistly, asked him passionatly, Ah, Father, why was not I acquainted with you before? Why Father, thus late? intimating hereby, that he had learnt sufficiently in that combat, what prevalency and favour Philip had with God. Lilius was a Frenchman by birth, one to be admired for his strange contempt of himself, far from the love of terrene things, from doting on his friends or kinred, insomuch as when their letters were brought him he would throw them unread in­to the fire. He was of a wonderfull patience in hear­ing Confessions; and foretelling the day of his own death, after he had lived 20 Years in the Congre­gation, deceased: whom Philip so exceedingly va­lued, that he kept his goods instead of Reliques, as an argument of his incomparable Vertue.

Carolus Mazzaeus likewise, one of Philips Sons being at the point of death, sustained shrew'd con­flicts by the temptations of the Devill: for an e­vil angell presented himself to him in his sickness; and that he might sink him in the Gulf of despair, laid open before him all his wickedness committed; whom the sick party answered twice together only thus, I appeal to Philip; and straight the Devil va­nished: [Page 120] and Charles soon after very quietly depart­ed. Philip averred his Soul went to heaven: af­firming that if a sick person disputed with the devil a­ny while, he was sure to be surprized by his sleights. By this time it was sufficiently known, that as soon as the B. man set but his foot within the chamber of the sick, and asked, Who is here? the devils im­mediatly fled away; so that divers when they lay a dying sent for Him.

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

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

CHAP. IX. He comforts the Afflicted.

BEsides the special care He took in helping such as were sick in body, He likewise miraculously [Page 121] raised up such as were dejected in spirit and op­pressed with sundry temptations.

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

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

A certain yong man, who lately entertained Phi­lip for his Confessor, could by no meanes be brought to forgive one that had offended him, though the Father used severall arguments to change his obsti­nate mind, but he grew every day more inflexible than other. At last Philip taking up a Crucifix in a holy Passion said to him; Look here, thou wretched creature, and see the blood Christ shed for thee, not on­ly pardoning those who crucified him, but begging mer­cy also of his Father for them. Fall down therfore upon thy knees: using at that instant some speeches that strangely represented to him the hardness of his heart, and made impression upon him, so that the [Page 122] Youth kneeled down astonished; at length rising up on the sudden, Father, saith he, Paratum cor meum, &c. My heart is ready, my heart is ready, I forgive all the injury, tell me what I shall do. By which means the R. and Religious Father, wisely re­gained his Son.

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

A certain Woman was almost 4 moneths, misera­bly afflicted with a violent temptation. Her Con­fessor advised her to acquaint Philip therewith, who seeing her said, O poor Soul! thou art afflicted indeed: for none can lightly have a sorer temptation, than that thou art tormented with: at which she being a­mazed that he should know the secrets of her heart (for she had discovered her mind to none) fell down at his feet; he laying his hand on her head, and [Page 123] trembling as he used to do, said, Be of good cheer, Daughter, I must say Mass and I will pray for thee then: and the same instant that he went away her temptation left her.

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

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

Bernardine Cotta, and Gerard Caraccio, con­tended, [Page 124] as for life, to be the Popes Apothecary; insomuch as Antonia Gerards Sister coming to the B. man told him all, who answered as he was wont, 'Tis enough, Go, be confident, I will say Mass and pray for you, As he said Mass the Woman stood by him and going home finds the quarrell between her Brother and his Rivall peacably composed, and her Brother in possession of the office; all which she at­tributed to the Fathers prayers.

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

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

Bartholom. Manticus a Priest of Rome, who revised and corrected the Errors of the Press for Baronius's Annals, hearing that his Father was taken by the Bandits, in his heaviness of spirit repairs to the H. man, relating the hard misfortune of his Father, He bid him doubt nothing, for no harm shall befall him. [Page 125] The next day the Priest tels Philip how the Bandits threatned to kill his Father, unlesse he ransomed himself at 1500 Crowns; he hearing that pitied the man, bidding him, Go to the Capuchins Covint, and recommend your Fathers sad condition to their Prayers. It is saith Manticus, sufficiently presented to them already. What stay you for then? said he, God who best knows how to succour his, will doubtlesse return you your Father safe. In brief, within a few days Manticus received letters, that his Father had made an escape in a very strange manner.

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

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

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

Camillus Pamphilius studying all night about a certain difficulty, at his going to Philip when day dawned, was quit of his pensiveness in these words, I was with you to night and helped you. This was Fa­ther to Pope Innocent X. Last of all Hieron. Pamphilius Cardinal, and brother to Camillus, left upon record this testimony of the R. Father; ‘In all my af­fairs and anxious sollicitude, as soon as I betook me to his Prayers and Counsel, I was assoiled of all my scruples; insomuch as I feared nothing, as oft as he but pray'd for me.’

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

HE was excellent at removing niceties and doubts, and allaying the several passions of the minde, as will appear upon a Survey of these following in­stances. A Noble Roman for certain reasons retir'd into a Monastery of S. Gregory's ad clivam Scauri, who, as a Corpse was carrying to Church to be bu­ried, one that was possess'd following the Bier, as soon as the Funeral Rites were ended, taking the distempered person aside, began with an itching cu­riosity to ask him many questions about certain matters, with whom after he had talked a while, he with a dreadful look, and thundering voice cries out, And you also are possest. At which the man fell into such horrour, that fearing indeed he was possest by the Devil, he sent presently for a Priest, and had the Exorcisms of the Church read to him: when being adjured of the Priest about his name, he repeats the names of divers Devils, so that many supposed him really possessed. But the strength of [Page 127] the Melady encreasing by the continual reciting the Exorcisms, he committed himself to four of the ablest Physicians in the City for cure, who the more ex­periments they tryed, the more his distemper was augmented, that he fell away to a mere skeleton. So leaving the Doctors, and going on a time to Tur­ris speculorum, relating to a Sister in the Monastery there, which was allied to him, the whole story; she willed him to ask counsel of Philip, living then at Vallicella; but he being bashful, and not daring to go himself to the R. Father, she importuned Phi­lip, if the pains were not too much, to repair (of his goodness) to the young man; who frankly consented, and being come, affirmed that he was not at all possessed with any impure Spirit; then com­mands him with Gallonius, whom he took with him for company, to sing, and drive away Melancholly with some witty recreation: withall bids him come sometimes to Vallicella. The young man did so, when the Father kindly receiving him put his head to his breast, asking him how he did: who answered he was well. Then Philip advised him to disburden his conscience by a general Confession of his sins; which he quickly did, and afterward came daily to Philip, by frequent converse with whom, he attain­ed to perfect health, without either the Physicians medecines, or the Priests Exorcisms. One thing may not be passed by, that whilst he made his gene­ral Confession, unable to shake off that strong imagi­nation setled in him, that the Devil had seized on him, he pressed Philip to Exorcise him; to whom the Father, Doubt nothing, at night I will. Herewith the man was satisfyed, and one night as he was a­sleep, he seemed to himself to disgorge a great mul­titude of Devils forth at his mouth; and ever after [Page 128] lived quietly, free from any such troublesome ap­prehensions.

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

No less re [...]rked was he, for removing those an­xious Jealousies, arising out of the excess of Reli­gion, termed ordinarily Scruples, Julian Fuscherius a most vertuous Priest of S. Hieroms a Charitate had a certain Penitent that was tormented with these Passions in such wise as he could not use Sa­cramental Confession for them; and having sent him to divers pious and skilful men for help, but in vain, at length he bethought him of Philip: who at first sight eying him stedfastly said, I understand well your case, you are assaulted sore by the Devil: for he discerned that these Scruples proceeded from a secret Spirit of pride in the Penitent. Thereupon he questioned him before Fuscherius after this sort: Have you courage enough to confess your sins to two at once? he answered, I have. Then Philip, Kneel down, and begin the Confession of all your sins. He did, and the Father having taken his Confession, bid him, Kiss the Earth and shame the Devill: which done, he immediately enjoyed his former peace of [Page 129] conscience, and confessed his sins afterward devoid of those fears without disturbance.

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

Besides these, the prudent Father prescribed sun­dry salves for such as laboured under this disease. ‘He said, in the first place; that such persons hav­ing once discovered that they gave no consent, should enquire no farther as touching their Con­sent; for the same things oft thought on would take too deep rooting in the mind. And for discerning the assent of the will, he proposed two things to be principally noted. The first, that a man should think seriously with himself, whether in time of temptation he retained the love of the opposite Vertue; for if so, he might then be sure he consented not. The second, whe­ther he would swear that he assented, for if he say he will not swear it, he may certainly beleive in like manner that he gave no consent. Fur­ther, to that Generall Rule usually alleged [...] men expert and skill'd in these matters, viz. That we are to stand to the judgement of a Prudent Confessor absolutely in all things: he added a Speciall one of his own: That these kind of Scruples were altogether to be slighted, and nether oft, nor yet lightly be arraigned at the barr of Repentance. Therefore whensoever he perceived them to rise in his Penitents at Confession, he would bid them [Page 130] come to the Sacrament even unconfessed. Lastly he concluded with that common Maxime, That this kind of malady might admit a truce for a while, but true solid peace was attainable only by Humility.’

And not only did His words and advices allay these tempests of the mind, but his holy hands with the very touch thereof afforded ease and relief. ‘Tiberius Ricciardellus, of whom elsewhere, af­firms that as oft as Philip did but gently pluck him by the hair, he immediately felt himself sprightly and vivacious. And Cardinal Baronius, that he was much recreated, when being a Youth the B. man did but clap him on the Cheek.’ Car­dinall Octavius Bandinus gloried in it, that the Ser­vant of God gave him a box on the ear, when he was a stripling. And Fran. Puccius of Palestrina avou­ches, that as oft as Philip laid his hand on his head, his heart seemed to leap and dance within him. The same do almost all others testifie, whose Confessions he was wont to hear.

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

Nay not only himself, and the parts of his Bo­dy, but his very cloaths, houshold goods, Uten­siles, and his Chamber were marvellously refresh­ing. [...]or which cause, Martius Alterius a Roman [Page 131] said, that Philips Cell was rather a Paradise than a Cell. The like did Julius Benignius Archbishop of Thessalonica. Cardinall Frederic Boromeo thought himself happy, if he might only stay in his Cham­ber. Alexander Medices, (who when he was Pope was called Leo XI.) used to go thither once or twice a week, where he spent 5 or 6 hours, sorry many times that the time went away so fast. Fabricius de Maximis, if he were oppressed with any grief or care, stood still before Philips chamber-door, and by that means alone was eased of his trouble. Last of all Nerus de Nigris, even after Philips death, found out this speciall remedy for his pensiveness and incumbrances, to repair to his Chamber.

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

CHAP. XI. His Almes.

BUt not only to the Souls of others, but even to their Corporal necessities was He helpfull to a [...]reat degree. For visiting the Poor he supplied [...]hem not with money alone, but all other necessa­ [...]ies for preserving of health; which thing he of [...]en [...]id unsought to, and many times fore knowing [Page 132] their extreamities by a Divine instinct, aboundant­ly furnished them with all requisites.

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

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

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

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

And though he opened his Bowels in bounty thu [...] to all, yet did he shew himself most liberall in re­lieving Maids. He distributed among the Necee [...] of Joh. Animuccio, being in extream want, abou [...] 600 Crowns, besides diet. Two Florentine Maid [...] [Page 133] living at Rome to the perill of their Chastity, after their Parents death, he supplied with all things fitting; till a competent dowry being liberally as­signed either of them, he sent them home into their Country to spend their days in a Monastery: he alloted them fourscore Crowns apiece to live in a Nunnery and serve God. Three other poor young Maids he gave in Marriage appointing them porti­ons: and on one of their Husbands besides a por­tion he bestowed a 100 Crowns: Beyond all this he undertook the charge of twenty Virgins; which a certain Widow without his knowlege had got to­gether, when they were ready to sterve; these he kept and brought up, till each of them in time were conveniently and handsomely disposed of. Briefly, the Tables made for his Canonization do amply testifie, that by his care and direction almost an innumerable company of Maids were provided for: besides that he is by the testimony of divers averred to be the Author of the Nunnery of S. Ka­therine de Rosa. And how should it come to pass, think we, that almost forty years after his death, we should behold in this City such Troopes of Holy Virgins warring under the Colours of Blessed Philip, were it not for his sake and merits, who while he lived, was a Patron, and Protector, to so many of them?

He went twice a week to all the Prisons, carrying them money, and when he was unfurnished some­times for such contributions, he would put others, who were richer, upon the office. In like manner he perswaded divers Lawyers and Prelates with much importunity to undertake the Patronage of priso­ners causes, or at least to favour them when by o­thers undertaken: he was also very liberall to [Page 134] those who, as it is in the Gospel, could not dig, and were a shamed to beg: for he full well knew, how heavy and sad a condition it is for one formerly rich and Noble to be brought to poverty and indi­gence.

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

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

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

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

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

Therfore Cardinal Robert Bellarmin a man re­nowned as well for Learning, as vertue and holi­ness, whom the H. Congregation of Rites commissio­ned to see him entred in the Calender of Saints, perusing the evidence of publique Testimonies, and seeing such a Catologue of Charities, did not stick honourably to entitle him a Second Iohn The Almo­ner.

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

Nor was He only mercifull and compassionate, but exceeding thankfull and free. ‘So Cardinal Hieron. Pamphilius reports; The H. Father, when he lived, was even in the smallest matters most [Page 136] gratefull to all sorts of men, and so mindfull of any good turn done him, that he ever returned more than he received. Marcus Antonius Maffa saith thus; Philip was so civil a Person, that you could scarce ever fasten any kindness upon him, which by mutuall offices he requited not more than double. It was once my lot, saith he, to present him with a thing of small worth, for which he sent me a brazen Crucflix of a great value, which I keep by me as a most precious Re­lique, coming to me thorow his B. Hands.’ Thus Maffa.

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

CHAP. XII. His Tender-heartedness and Compassion.

PIty grew up with him so naturally from his In­fancy, that if he saw one in any misery or ad­versity, it not only grieved him, but out of ten­derness of Spirit he could hardly look him in the face: therefore though he loved not to carry mo­ney about with him, yet did he not utterly prohi­bit himself that conveniency, because he m [...]ght re­lieve the daily necessities of the poor. He once heard of a woman, who for want of clothes could not [Page 137] go to Church, and presently taking off his cloak, bad it should be carried her. If he at any time saw Boys or Girles in torne or ragged apparrel, he forthwith took order for decently clothing them.

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

He was exceeding charitable to poor Priests, and especially if they were forreigners. In the year 1551, there being a great dearth at Rome, Philip had six loaves brought him, which he immediately carried to a Priest that was a stranger, living himself on a few Olives: and being demanded why he kept ne­ver a loaf for himself, replyed, Because I am better known here than he, and can shift better then a for­reigner.

He found out divers wayes of helping Mechanicks and Artizans, such as earned their living by manu­all trades, and could neither put of their work nor get employment. There were two Brothers, Frenchmen, very expert Watch-makers, but grown old and having a great charge of Daughters that were marriagable, for whom they could not pro­vide [Page 138] Husbands: the Good man perswades some friends of his who were well-money'd men to buy those Watches, by which means the Maids had fair Portions raised. This a certain man, one wise for himself, had observed, and seeing a wealthy person buy such store of Watches upon Philips perswasions, muttered privately, what means this waste? but finding afterward that by these sleights Philip as it were beguiled the Rich to maintaine the Poor, he was no more Offend­ed, but thence-forward highly reverenced the B. man.

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

This his tender-heartedness and compassion ap­peared not only to reasonable creatures, but even brute beasts. One of his trod on a Lizard once, at which said he, O thou hard-hearted Wretch! what harm did that poor creature do thee? Seeing a Butcher wound a Dog with his axe, he turned a­way his head moved with compassion, and cryed, O thou Barbarous creature! One of his Scholars brought him a Bird to delight him with the fight and singing of her: but he restored her to the hea­ven where she was bred. When he took Coach he would charge the Coachman to hurt no living crea­ture as he drave on the way: and if any were pre­sented him, he would not let them be killed, but [Page 139] either return them back, or keep them very care­fully, if any came into the house of themselves, he let them forth at the Door, or the Windows without doing them any harm.

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

CHAP. XIII. His unstained Virginity.

HAving thus entreated at large of the H. mans Charity and Meekness, intending to take a view of his other Vertues in their order, the first that offers it self is his inward Purity, and Virgin-innocency. For the B. man well knowing how greatly God delights in Chastity both of Body [Page 140] and Mind, employed, so soon as he came to the use of Reason, all his art and industry in quench­ing those sparks of lust that began to kindle in him; and although by occasion of the affairs wherein he was daily exercised all his life long, he met with many temptations to dishonesty, yet preserved he the flower of his Virginity unspotted to the last.

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

This pretious treasure he hid close under the Co­ver of profound humility, guarding it every way by a most strict watch kept over all his Senses. For in imitation of that Great Antony, he never let any part of his body be seen naked: nor ever let fall a word that savoured of the least immodesty. He turned away his eyes from beholding vanity, insomuch that a beautiful woman, whose Confessions he took for 30 years together, affirmed, he never so much as once [Page 141] looked her in the face. At first when he was Confessor he alwayes looked sowre while he spake to wo­men, not giving them so much as a coutteous word, though in his latter years he forbore that custome.

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

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

Being after made Priest, and appointed to take Confessions, he was more craftily assayed, as it were by Ambuscado. For a notorious Strumpet, called Cae­sarea, hearing of his renowned Continency, and being her self very handsome, proclaims, she would effect her will on him; so pretending a desperate sickness she sends for Philip, as to take her Confession; He at first refuseth, fearing to bring a scandal on himself: for not without cause, being of those years, he alwayes denyed to come to wo­men; but upon very much importunity, ear­nestly longing after the good of Souls, he went; [Page 142] when no sooner was he entred within the doors, but the audacious harlot meets him with a transparent Veil cast over her naked body: he perceiving the subtil wiles of the Devil, crossing himself turns his back on her, and leaping down staires breaks a­way. She finding her self cozen'd of her expecta­tion, takes a stool up and throws after him with all her might to hit him, but in vain: so the Servant of Christ by Gods providence escaped the danger both of Soul and Body.

This resolution of his for preserving his Chastity God so rewarded, that he never after felt himself annoyed with inclinations to Lust, or illusions of the night. Insomuch as he told Baronius once: Be assured Caesar, if any such thing should befall me, though asleep, I should even dye for grief. Yea he had brought himself to that pass, that as though he had been made of wood or stone, his body was in a man­ner sensless. And Gallonius speaking of his rare Con­tinence writes thus. ‘I do really believe (for he was intimate with the H. man) Philips Virginity and Purity was no whit inferiour to that which by speciall priviledg from God was confered on Eleazar Count of Arian, and Simon Salo, whose Praises are recounted by the Metaphrast in Surius for either of these led the lives of Angels amidst the Society of Men.’

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

As also his unpolluted Body cast forth so sweet a [Page 143] fragrancy, that such as came nigh him where won­derfully refreshed by it; and many affirme they re­ceived encreases of Devotion by the odoriferous perfume that breathed out from his Brest and Hands.

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

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

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

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

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

A yong Widow much disquieted with the enti­cing blandishments of the flesh, who had oft revealed as much to her Confessor but found no help, being sent to Philip, was prescribed a remedy in these words; Daughter, as often as you are molested with unchast imaginations, bespeak the Devil thus. I will complain of you to Philip, that Asse, the worst of men. The woman did as she was directed, and was rid of those fleshly desires. Which thing also hapned to very many, who falling in like sort upon the Devil in the same terms, were straight freed of their temptations, yet he advised them to utter those words with all possible confidence and simplicity, and not discoursing things too much with reason; know­ing [Page 145] how much the devill is awed by the harmless in­tegrity and plain dealing of holy persons.

Besides, he lesson'd his with severall Documents for the preservation of Chastity. ‘First, he coun­selled Confessors not to take the Confessions of Wo­men but through a grate, to shun all discourses with them, not purposely to look on their faces, to shew themselves severe in conversing with them, not to be in company with one either in the house or any private place, but upon ex­tream necessity, and when a third person was by.’ Therefore when a certain Priest one time entred the Church, unknown to him before, he forthwith by a Divine impulse, calling the man to him, said; It befits not a Priest, though otherwise devout, to con­verse so familiarily with women; therefore see you for­bear it utterly hereafter. He astonished hereat wondered how he should enter so far into him, be­ing either of them strangers to one another. ‘Be­ing also one well experienced, He disswaded them from too much confidence in themselves, either by reason of age or the constant exercise of the habit of Chastity; and that they should propose him for their pattern: For said he, God hath bestowed some things on me, which he useth not to dispense to all. He had short Rules for Youth to learn; as, to avoid bad company; not to pamper their carkase too deliciously; to fly idle­ness; to be much in prayer; lastly, to keep up the frequent use of Sacraments, of Penance e­specially.’

And generally he would say, That Christian Hu­mility was the safest Guardian of Chastity. There­fore if he chanced to hear of one that had fallen in­to that sin, he said, We ought rather to pity than to [Page 146] scorn him; for he that cannot truly compassionate his fal­len brother, hath reason to fear lest himself likewise fall ere long: adding, That no peril is greater, than dangers unfeard.

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

‘He alleadged also that it conduced much to the preservation of Chastity to disclose ones whole mind to his superiours, not concealing from them the least matter. For wounds laid open to the Physician are most easily cured. He greatly com­mended for removing this kind of temptations the Ejaculatory Prayers, so highly approved by the Ancient Fathers,’ such as that, Deus in adju­torium meum intende, Domine ad adjuvandum me festi­na; i. e. Hast the ô God to deliver me, make hast to help me ô Lord: and that, Cor mundum crea in me Deus; Create in me a clean heart ô God. Above all, for the subduing all the allurements to [Page 147] the flesh, he principally exhorted Christian Souldiers to flight, saying, That in the battels of Chastity, to run away is to win.

CHAP. XIV. His Abstinence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His course of Fasting he left not so long as he lived, yea the older he grew, the more still he a­bated of the conveniences of life: and if any coun­selled him to favour himself now he was old, he ei­ther [Page 149] turned his discourse to some other thing, or smilingly answered, Heaven stands not open for slug­gards.

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

CHAP. XV. His Contempt of Riches.

TO the Vertue of Temperance he annexed a most profound Contempt of Riches; for though he had not vowed Poverty, yet kept he his mind loose from the love of wealth: So that to let pass his re­fusall of inheriting his Ʋncles estate; and that slen­der provision which he found, being then young, with Galeottus Caccius: when he was ordained Priest and Confessor, though he were offered divers thou­sands [Page 150] of Crowns by some Noble Persons, he ever re­fused to take any part thereof.

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

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

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

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

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

He was so averse from having to do with mens Wils or Testaments, knowing that those, who inter­meddle in such matters, give secular persons occa­sions of offence or suspicion, that when he visited the Sick, as soon as he heard but a word of make­ing a Will, he would immediately be gone, and [Page 151] scarce come any more to see them, unless they had done setling thir estates.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A certain young man, out of an aim to be rich, and get a reputation in the City, applied himself to the study of the Civil Law; him the H. man be­gan to accost and extoll, saying, O happy you! you study hard now, and within a while will proceed Do­ctor after which by your Law practise will gain a Mass of Money, encreasing both the wealth and honour of your House, and who is there but expects you to mount to the Highest and most eminent dignities? O what a happy man are you! and then being made a great man you will scorn to look upon me a mean shrub. The young man thought all this had been spoken by him in good earnest, when Philip embracing him whis­pers in his ear, But what after all this? That word sunk so deep into his mind, that going home he did nothing but repeat to himself, but what after all this? which weighing seriously in his thoughts, he resolves thence forward to labour only in search of celestiall Riches and Honour. So putting him­self under Philips institutions attending his plea­sure in every thing, he enters himself as a Servant into his family, and at last, Philip being dead, was admitted into the Congregation of the Oratory. This was Franc. Zazzaro a Priest one of singular Vertue and exceedingly beloved both of pious and honou­rable Persons, who deserved well of the Congrega­tion, and being intrusted with the managing the Canonization of the B. Father, pursued it with such rigour and paines, that at last he brought it to the wished-for period: when having obtained of the [Page 154] H. Congregation of Rites that the office for him be­ing approved should be recited at pleasure, and per­formed the obsequies for the most R. Father in the year one thousand six hundred twenty six, on the twenty sixt of Aprill, being fifty years old, he dyed in peace.

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

‘But though the B. man desired to have all his free and unspotted from the love of Silver and Gold, yet did he mainly wish those of the Congre­gation to outvy others herein. Therefore as soon as they were allowed to hear Confessions he warned them especially to receive no money from such as came to them, oft using to say; If ye aim at the good of Souls, never seek the gold in their purse: and frequently repeating that of the Apostles; Non vestra, sed vos. Not yours, but you. Nor did he only thus advice and counsell Confessors, but all of the Congregation; and that they should by no means have to do in making Wils; as under­standing how easily some jealousy or displeasure might hence arise. He hated avarice, as one would the plague; calling it an incurable vice: therefore he affirmed, That incontinent persons were sooner brought home to Christ, than covetous: for which reason he enjoyned his Penitents whom he perceived most addicted to money, not Fasting, but Alms, as a proper and befiting Penance; say­ing, Let the young man keep himself from the mire of uncleaness, and the old from the filth of covetu­ousness, [Page 155] and we shall be all holy. And again, Pick me out but ten men free from all love of worldly things, and I will undertake to convert the whole world. To them of the Congregation he would say; God will hereafter enrich you with temporall goods, but take heed, lest while ye encrease your for­tunes ye lose the Spirit.’

CHAP. XVI. His declination of Honours and Dignities.

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

Gregory XIV. whilst yet a Cardinall loved Philip entirely; whereupon being newly preferred to the Popedome, the Servant of Christ came [...]o kiss his feet; the Pope straight running to embrace him, tels him he had a purpose to make him Cardinall. At which the Good man whispered somewhat in his, [Page 156] and putting it off with a jest went his way. Yet was not Gregory removed a whit from his intended resolution, but within a while sends him a trusty messenger to confirm it to him, and carry him a Cardinals Hat; he returns the messenger, praying him to present his humble thanks to the Pope, and acquaint him, that he would certifie his Holiness further what time would be fittest for the recepti­on of such an Honour. And by this means he de­seated the Popes intent and skreened off the Lustre of the dignity proffered him. And that none reck­on this a meer Complement of the Popes, and no re­all offer, it is attested by those who were admitted to all the Popes privacies, and by Philip himself, who oft related the same to his Sons, to disswade them from the Ambition to Honours.

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

‘Most Holy Father, who am I that even Cardi­nals should come to me? and much more the Car­dinals of Cusa and Florence who were with me ye­ster evening: the latter of which, I then needing a litle Manna, such as is gathered off leaves, caused two ounces to be brought me out of that large store which he had sent to the Hospital of Santo Spirito; and the same day he staid with me till the second hour of the night, who so highly and so frequently extolled your Holiness, as he seemed to me too immoderate therein; for as much as a Pope should be all Humility. At the Seventh hour of the night Christ came to me, and fed me with the Sacrament of his own Body; but you never [Page 157] vouchsafed to come so much as once to our Church. Christ is God and Man, yet he disdains not to come to me as oft as I call on him; you a meer man, descended of a holy and vertuous Father, but Christ of God the Father; your Mother Agnesina is a devout woman; but Christ had the Virgin of Virgins for his Mother. I want not cause of com­plaint, had I not rather repress this passion of Anger. I do therefore command your Holiness to obey my pleasure concerning this Maid the Daughter of Claudius Nerius, who I am very de­sirous to have admitted among the Devota's of St. Francisca: you long since engaged your word to take his Children into your care; remember it is beseeming a Pope to keep Faith. Therefore your Holiness may refer the business to me, to make use of your Authority so far as is requisite, the rather, for that I am not unacquainted what the resolutions of the Maid are, being most cer­tain, that she is now hastening to the solitude of a call of God. And in the mean time with all due submission I most humbly kiss your Holiness's feet.’

Hereunto Clement writ back in the same leaf with his own hand thus. ‘The Pope makes you this answer: He saith your paper in the very front savours of a spirit of Ambition, while you certifie him of your being so frequently visited by Cardinalls, except you did it, that he might know they were holy and religious persons, which no man ever questioned. As to that, that the Pope never visited you, he retorts it upon you, who never de­served it at his hands, having so often refused him the acceptance of a Cardinals Hat when freely tendred you. For the commands you lay upon [Page 158] him, he gives you leave, if the Nuns oppose, to check them according to your accustomed juris­diction: and he commands you to have a care of your health and not to take any more Confessions without his Permission. And that when Christ shall come to you next, you remember to pray for the Pope, and for the urgent necessities of all Christen­dom.’ Thus Clement. Whereby appears evidently that Philip had oft avoided the dignity of the Purple.

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

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

Not without cause therefore did Marc. Antonius Maffa the Abbot utter these words: ‘It may be said of Philip, as S. Hierom doth of Hilarion: Let others admire the wonders he did, his incredible abstinence, learning, and humility; I admire no­thing so much as that he should so nobly spurn reputation and fame; especiall seeing Philip liv­ing in the City, and in the throng of honours e­ven scorned honour.’ So Maffa.

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

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

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

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

CHAP. XVII. His Humility.

THis so matchless Contempt of wealth and ho­nours had its rise from his profound Humility, which being deeply rooted in his Soul made him with S. Francis heartily and without hypocrisy profess himself the greatest of sinners; which he spake with such powerfulnes of expression, as wit­nessed that he really meant what he said. There­fore if he had heard of any horrid crime done, he used to say, Pray God I have not committed worse! And for this cause he read the Life of S. Mary the Egyptian much; whose austerities he practised with [Page 161] great rigour, though not guilty of heinous offences. He every day complained in this manner to God; Lord do thou beware of me, for except thou assist me with thy help, I shall this very day undoubtedly betray thee. Somtimes he would say; The wound of Christs side is wide enough already, but unles God prevent me, I shall make it wider. When he received the Body of Christ in the Eucharist, he said; I confess, Lord, I confess, I am inclined to nothing but evill: he pre­pared himself in this wise to say Mass; I offer up my self to thee, O Lord, of my self prone to all manner of evill. When he was a young man, if at any time he were sick, he used to say; Lord, if I recover, I will lead a better life: but bethinking himself better in his latter time, he used this saying; If I should chance to grow well, I shall, as far as in me lies, be but the worse, for I have so often failed in performing what I have purposed, that I dare not trust my self hereafter any more. He had so firmly imprinted it on his Spirit, that he had never done any good, that when he saw young men, thinking on the time they had for their progresse and advance in Gods way, he would say O Blessed, ô happy you, who have time before you for the doing good in! somtimes he brake out into this speech, I despair: so that meeting once two Dominicans, and making his way on purpose betweene them he said, Sirs let a despairing man pass quietly by you: they, supposing him to be indeed hopeless concerning salvation, laboured to repair his confidence, but he smiling told them; I de­spaire of my self, but I trust in the Lord: and so went on his journey.

Yea he had so fixed his mind on the sense of his own baseness and unworthyness, that on a time a woman requesting of him a piece of his garment, [Page 162] as reverencing him for a Saint, he in great wrath bid her, Away I am no Saint, but indeed a Devill. Another time being asked by the Embassadress for Spain; How many years since he had renounced the world: his answer was; Truely I know not that ever I renounced it. Being once sick and desired by some holy persons to repeat those words of S. Mar­tin; Lord, if I may be usefull to thy people, I refuse not the Labour: he made this [...]t art reply. Alas, I am no Saint Martin, nor ever thought my self such a one: and should I esteem my self usefull, I should ac­count that I were undone. Another time being sick, and requested by a Noble man to pray for the con­tinuance of his life, that he might not leave his so soon without providing for them, he angrily re­plyed, He never judged himself worthy to provide for any. A Person of quality seriously reflecting on the daily wonders done by him, said, Father, Saints do very strange things; speak not so, replied he, but say rather with the Prophet; Mirabilis Deus in Sanctis suis: God is wonderfull in his Saints. Another tel­ling him, I am tempted to be beleive you are not the man the world takes you for: saith he; Know, that is no temptation but a truth; for I am nothing more than other men.

In this Humility of Spirit he used to commend himself to the Prayers of all; and was wont to send to divers Houses of the Regulars to desire the Reli­gious, the Novices especially, to remember him in their Prayers to God: he likewise requested such as were Priests to afford him a share in their Suffra­ges when they said Mass in their Churches, and chiefly on their prime Festivalls. In like manner he intreated that he might beare a part of the Pe­nances injoyned Penit [...]nts in Confession; the Humble [Page 163] man hoping by this means through the prayers of o­thers to obtain what he least expected from his own.

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

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

In determining matters appertaining either to himself or the Congregation, he alwayes asked the [Page 164] opinion of others: advising not only with sage and prudent persons, but even those of inferiour rank, desirous they should tell him plainly their opinion. He was much pleased when he heard himself under­valued as a weak Person; remembring that of S. Paul, Si quis videtur, &c. If any man among you seem to be wise, let him become a fool, that he may be wise: so that of Philip it may be truly said, as Gregory Nissen of S. Ephrem; He had rather be, than seem holy.

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

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

In fine the Servant of Christ shone most glorious [Page 165] in his Christian Humility toward all and on all oc­casions, being gentle in commanding, moderate in tasking, pleasant in behaviour, affable in converse, at no time offensive to any; as appeared in that he wore woollen socks in his Chamber, lest he might disturb them under him with his walking. So far from self-conceit, that, as 'tis reported of S. Thomas Aquinas, he never in his life felt any provo­cation to Vain glory.

He took all care possible, that his Sons likewise might ascend the top of this Vertue: and as S. John the Evangelist oft inculcated those words unto his Disciples; Filioli diligite alterutrum; My little Children love one another; so did Philip often inge­minate this one thing still; Humiles estote Filii, hu­miles estote. Be humble, Sons, be humble. Whereup­on as Taurusius was preaching once, with such zeal and vehemency that his Auditors applauded him, Philip on the sudden steps forth, fearing the man might affect popularity, and falls to thumping the wall with his fist, till he drew the eyes of all upon him, by this means diverting Taurusius from being puffed up with applause. Then going into the Pul­pit cries out, There is no reason (ô ye Auditors) any of us should boast, who as yet have not spilt the least drop of bloud for the love of Christ; nay rather have gained much honour and estimation by being in his ser­vice: and enlarging thereon a while came down. ‘He said, none should mention his own praise o­penly either in earnest or jest at any time. And that a man should rejoyce, at least not take it ill, if he did ought worthy commendation, though another had▪ the credit of it, forasmuch as he should be a double gainer thereby; to wit, for the work, and the Humility. He also advised his, [Page 166] to beg earnestly of God, if he bestowed on them any Vertue, not to discover it unto them; lest they took occasion of growing proud thereby; oft repea­ting those words; Secretum meum mihi, &c. My se­cret to my self, my secret to my self. Withall he affirm­ed, it was a token of apparent danger willfully to incurr a danger: and therefore wished his of­ten to say, Trust not unto me Lord, for except thou help, doubtless I shall fall. He forbade them to vaunt of themselves at any time, saying, If I were tempted this would I do or say; but rather, What is to be done, I know, what said, but what I should say, or do, I know not. In generall he coun­selled Penitents, at the very entrance upon their confession to disclose their foulest crimes: saying this was the way to shame the devill: but he exceed­ingly faulted the mincing a sin, and transferring the blame upon others: adding, that he who meant to reach the highest degree of sanctity, must never stand to excuse himself, save in cases excepted by the Canons of the Church; calling them Eves who stil I excused themselves from be­ing faulty in every thing. He further affirmed, the best course to keep one from sin, was to lay a­side all haughtiness of mind: again, he that is reproved for a fault, should not be too much dis­quieted at it: for, faid he, it oft falls out that the grief is more blame worthy, then the offence it self, insomuch as such excessive sorrow most commonly proceeds from nothing but Pride. Therefore if one had offended, he wished him to upbraide himself thus; Had I been humble, surely I had not sinned: but he neither readily nor generally liked their opinion, who over-confident of their own strength desired to be afflicted by God, whom he [Page 167] willed rather to beg Patience. Nothing was more perillous, he said, then to carry themselves like Masters in their spirituall Apprentiseship. That divine consolations were to be expected in the privacy of the Closet, not in the society of men: that a Spirit of singularity was especially to be avoided: and good works were at no hand to be omited for the suspition of Vain glory. Therefore consonant to the Doctrine of the H. Fathers, he divided vain glory briefly into three heads. The first he termed the Mistress, namely that which not only precedes a good work, but likewise disposeth that Action to a vain end: the second he named the Associate, for that it accom­panies the deed, not without a kind of fond complacency: the third the Maid; when a man hath temptations to vain glory but extinguishes or abates them presently: hereupon he bad them Take heed that vain glory become not your Mistress.’ But hereof enough, not to cloy the Reader.

CHAP. XVIII. His Mortifications.

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

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

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

Meeting by chance the B. Felix of Cantalicium a Capuchin in the Street called the Bank, then full of people, saluting each other, he asked him, if he were athirst? who answered, Indeed I am. Felix replied, Now will I try whether you have truly learnt the habit of Mortification: and straight reached him the bottle that hung at his back, bidding him, Take it and drink: Philip took it and drank, the multi­tude looking on, and saying, Look yee one Saint drinks to the other. But now, said Philip, I will see whe­ther you have this vertue too, or not: when pulling his [Page 169] Cap off, he put it on his head, and bad him Go. See, I do replied the other, but if any body take away your Cap, look you to that, the loss shall be yours. So Felix go­ing away with the cap, Philip soon dispatched one after him to fetch it back. Which done, each went his way; the beholders being in suspense whether of them had shewen greater self-denyall.

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

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

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

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

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

At home he was ever contriving wayes still to make himself contemptible; of which among severall others that occurr, the Reader may take these few examples. In the first place, you should ordinari­ly have seen him, when he was private in his Chamber, with a Crimson shirt on reaching to his knee, huge big shoes, and those white too, upon his feet, a straight Cap on his head; in which Dress he would entertain Noble Personages, and men of quality, to make himself hereby ridiculous unto them. Yea he would sometimes go to Church in this habit, and that upon Festivall dayes. It once hap­ned [Page 171] that he came abroad thus attired, on the An­niversary of the B. Virgins Nativity (to whose ho­nour the Church was dedicated) as Vespers were a singing, where were present many Cardinalls, which all rising up at his entrance, in reverence to one of so rare holiness, honourably welcomed the Good old man, intreating him he would be pleased to sit down with them; who smilingly answered, It was enough for him to find room below at their foot-stools, among such as bore up their Trains.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One time he went with some of his to the Cardi­nalls of Alexandria upon business, and at taking his leave said, My [...]ord, have you nothing to bestow out of your bounty on me and my Sons? The Cardinall perceived his drift straight, so opening a Chest takes [Page 174] out a good big Cake, and gives him: Philip, as soon as he was without the Palace, divides it into pieces, distributing each Scholar his share; bidding them eat it as they went, telling them, Sons, do but in these trifling matters use to pull down a high mind, and you will more easily master your selves afterward in things of greater moment.

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

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

A certain Noble man was very fond of a Dog he had, which it chanced a Courtier carried along with him to S. Hieroms where Philip lived, whom making much of him the Beast so affected, that he could never after be got away from his Chamber. Being by force had home, he staid no longer than he was tied, and when he could slip his chain pre­sently returned to Philip: at first the Lord took it ill, but understanding that the Dog ran of him­self to him as soon as ever he wa [...] [...]t loose, he plea­santly asked; What is it not enough for Father Philip to inveigle so many of my Attendants, except he get a­way [Page 175] my Dogs too? for the H. man had perswaded di­vers of his House to a Religious life. This Dog would Philip make some of his carry in their armes, and somtimes combe him carefully with a soft comb, and then wash him; many times lead him in a string about the City, and the like; which kind of Mortification he used almost twelve years toge­ther: so that Taurusius termed that Dog, the Plague or scourge of Rationall minds.

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

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

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

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

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

He invented a smart and witty Penance for Au­stin Mannus a Priest of the Congregation. He had, [Page 177] it seems, made a choice sermon to his Audience, which Philip observing, commands him to preach over the same word for word six times; he obeyed him; insomuch as those that were present looking one upon another and laughing, cried; Look there is he that always sings the same note.

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

But forasmuch as Philip mainly exacted of all his, that they should submit the internall motions of their Understandings and Wills to the direction of another, it will not be amiss to recount here that which befell Baronius to this purpose. The Pope had allotted him a certain pension for the compleat­ing his Annalls; which coming to Philips ear, He thereupon injoyn [...] him to pay out of the moneys assigned him such a yearly value, as the rest former­ly used to defray toward the benefit of the Congre­gation. Baronius thought it hard measure, and [Page 178] was much troubled at it, especially not having wherewith to discharge the Transcribers of the Va­tican Records. Therefore he alledged many and severall Arguments to alter the Fathers intention; but he being peremptory and resolved on it, could by nothing that was propounded be brought off, whereat Baronius began to be much dejected. So sending for Thomas Bozzius he entreats him to deal with the Father effectually and to change his reso­lutions, protesting that he would rather leave the Congregation, then bear that charge. Bozzius gratifies him herein, but finds Philip more resol­ved than before, requiring him in plain terms, ei­ther to pay or to be gone, for God needs not the help of men. At that, Thomas counselled Caesar, and earnestly besought him to yield himself up in every thing to the commands of the B. Father; remembring that next under God he was indebted unto him both for his Spirituall and Secular knowledg. At length he, following his good counsell, repairs speedily to the H. man, and falling down at his feet in most humble manner begs his pardon, offering not his money alone, but himself, and all he had to his service chearfully. To whom Philip; Had you but done your Duty we needed not your money: only learn hence-forward to yield more ready obedience, and soften the hardness of your refractary mind. For his greatest desire was, that his should enure themselves to suppress the too nice inquisitions of the Intellect which he called the Rationale: and therefore he said, All vertue was comprized within the compass of three fingers; putting his hand upon his forehead while he spake so, and adding, This is the abridg­ment of all Spirituall life, to lay aside Reason and ar­guings.

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

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

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

But though he were at first more frequent in chastening himself, and his, yet in his latter years he seldom used these externall exercises: ‘alledg­ing, that inasmuch as the use of this Vertue be­came now sufficiently known, as in some it might beget Humility so to many it might prove an occasion of pride and ostentation.’

CHAP. XX. His Patience.

LEt us descend now to the vertue termed by the Saints the Touchstone of the rest, to wit, Pati­ence: and we may truly affirm of Philips whole [Page 181] life, that it was a daily and continuall exercise thereof. For first, omitting what hath been al­ready spoken on this subject, He was the mockery for Courtiers in every Noblemans palace; who in de [...]ision enquired of his Scholars how Father Philip did; what Regalos he had eaten that Morning; how many Capons had been presented him; what delicate Cawdles the women his Penitents had sent him in; prating every day divers such things of him: So that the idle people throughout the City, in all the chief shops and Streets, talked of no­thing else almost, but Philip and his Sons. All which came to his ear again, who not only bore it patiently, but even joyfully, that he leaped there­at; and many astonished and admiring his mild de­portment, others, who with the Rout had abused the B. man, all repenting of their rashness, magnifi­ed and renouned his rare sanctity.

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

He went to a Prelate one time, to mediate for a Noble Roman that lay in durance, unjustly charged with a Capitall crime. He not only refused to hear the truth, but so despitefully reviled the Servant of God, that they who were by could not but ad­mire at the malice of the one, and meekness of the [Page 182] other. The like hapned betwixt him and a Cardi­nall, who abused by the tales of informers, had an ill opinion of the H. man: and meeting Philip in the City, sharply reproved him in the hearing of all He Good man undisturbed therewith, quietly laughed to himself, and coming a little nearer whispers the Cardinall in the ear; at which abat­ing his former roughness, he used him, whom be­fore he looked on as an offender, with civill re­spect. There was at S. Johns Church of the Flo­rentines, a Servant of some Noblemans, who on a sudden, without any cause offered, began with so much impotency to rail at Philip, that a Canon of S. Peters in the Vatican accidentally being by, not a­ble to brook his incivility, would have laid hands on him, but that he saw Philip take all so cheer­fully; concluding, he was a very holy person, however he were unknown to him.

Yea the Servant of God was not only affronted by strangers, but even those to whom he had done favours. There fell out once a business of impor­tance in the Congregation, and a Letter coming to Philip (at that time Governour) about it; one of his Scholars, fearing it might carry with it some­what concerning him repugnant to Philips liking, took the paper by force out of his hand; which in­dignity he indured with such moderation, as he never discovered any tokens of displeasure for it, as long as he lived. Yet when he was neer his end, imi­tating herein the Royal Prophet, he gave charge that the party after his decease should be rebuked, yet in love, that so he might both acknowledg his fault and obtain pardon of God. In short, that one commendation of his Patience might suffice, which Francis Rosanus an able Divine gave him in these [Page 183] words: ‘Very sutable it was that Philip had his Residence at S. Hieroms; seeing he sustained no less brunts of opposition, than S Hierom did from his detractors.’

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

A Lady of great Quality was dangerously sick, whom the R. Father resorted much unto, being her Confessor: hereupon her Nephew, fearing shee might leave the Congregation her Heir, forbade Philip coming any more to see his Aunt; yet did not the Devout man abstaine from his charitable service. In such wise, as he enraged thereat charged, none of the Servants should let him in: He still neglect­ing all discourtesies he met with, continues to visit the Matron. The Priests of the Congregation, in the mean time doubting lest any mischief should befall him, were instant with him to forbea [...] going thither: whom he answered; Brethren, ye know I have no other ends in going, save only the good of the Sick Persons soul; and for that, as oft as need is, I shall not spare to lay down my life: for what can fall out more gloriously for the Servant of Christ, than to dye for Christ? But because they urged him so im­portunately; See, saith he, I shall indeed avoid the [Page 184] danger, for shee who is now a drawing on, shall perfectly recover, but her Nephew, that is well, within fifteen dayes shall assuredly die. And not a tittle of his sayings failed, for fifteen dayes after he di [...]d.

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

A certain Prelate, whose name for modesties sake is omitted, had most fouly accused Philip to one of the Cardinalls, to the intent, that the mat­ter being publikely taken notice of, the Order of the Oratory might be utterly ruined: and so hei­nous were the imputations, that the Cardinall made the Pope acquainted with them. But Philip, though he knew all this, said never a word; Yea went of­ten to the Cardinall, and though he were shrewdly and frequently reprehended by him, yet bore it patiently ever. In the mean time it hapned that the Monks of the Order of Mount Olivet impeached that Prelate of Apostatizing from their Order, which he took so to heart, that for very grief he fell sick, and in short space deceased. Yet Philip forgetting all injuries visited him much in his sick­ness, [Page 185] and hearing of his death lamented, bidding the H. Bible should be brought him, and presently opening the Book light upon those words in the Proverbs: Homo Apostata vir inutilis &c. A back­sliding person, a wicked man walketh with a froward mouth, he winketh with his eyes, he speaketh with his feet, he teacheth with his fingers, frowardness is in his heart, he deviseth mischief continually, he soweth dis­cord; therefore shall his destruction come suddenly, suddenly shall he be broken without remedy. To men­tion others, who persecuting the B. man accord­ingly felt Gods revenging hand, is not thought convenient, in regard it may distast Posterity, and is therefore omitted.

But to proceed in the relation of Philips Patience: this Vertue had taken so deep rooting in his mind, that he not only quietly sustained injuries, but e­ven loved his Adversaries with all his heart, pray­ing most fervently to God for them. Besides he was of so sweet and affable a nature, that he was never known to be angry in good earnest, except against notorious debauchery, and the habits of Vice: for albeit he carryed a stern countenance toward his Scholars, the better to further their progress in piety, yet as soon as he, whom he had chidden, had but turned his back, the meek-spiri­ted man cleared up again and looked as cheerfull a sever. He checked Ant. Gallonius somewhat se­verely, and perceiving him troubled at it, coming nearer him, pleasantly said to him, Give me a kiss, Antony, for so it is my will and pleasure: which the Good old man did, to remove from his mind all sad­ness and grief. He never looked sad; nay his ex­cellent company pleased all: he was of so setled and untroubled a mind, that his Sons would say: [Page 186] Do what wrong so ever to Father Philip it never moves nor disquiets him a jot. When it was told him, how some called him an Old bearded Dotard, he laugh­ed, and even capered for joy. Another time hear­ing one inveigh against the Order of the Oratory, as he preached, he shewed not the least sign of dislike thereat.

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

All the time that he was sick, he never spoke of his disease to any but Physicians. He was never known to complain; though his malady grew up­on him, yet he scarce changed the tenor of his voice; such as came to him he entertained with his wonted courtesy; rather administring com­fort to such as visited him, than receiving rom them. He ever took the Confessions of Penitents, except he were prohibited expresly by the Physi­cians. If his Sons at any time wished him to for­bear for a time, for his healths sake, his answer was; Let me alone, nothing is more pleasing to me than to hear confessions. It was ascribed to a mira­cle also, that being on the sudden freed from his [Page 187] disease he returned immediately to his charge; lying sick almost to death, as it might be to day, and to morrow betaking him more vigorously than before to the wonted offices of Religion. Which he attributing to a Divine hand, told the Physicians oft; Not you, but that same Box of H. Reliques (pointing to it with his finger) hath recovered me. They were given him by S. Carlo.

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

Another time he was sick in the same House, so that the Physicians said there was no hopes of life, and they had newly given him the H. Eucharist, and prepared him by Extream Ʋnction for his de­parture hence; there was present Pet. Victricius of Parma, an honourable Person, and one of the speciall and most intimate friends of Cardinall Boncompagnus, who afterward being Pop [...] was called Gregory the XIII. he of his own accord was as­sistant to Philip: who desiring him to reach him the Cup to wash his mouth, he did so; when Philip, Hezekiah like, turning his face to the wall, lay still [Page 188] for the space of a quarter of an hour, not stirring; at length changing from that posture, he found himself well, and recovering his full strength rose, and followed his employments.

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

CHAP. XXI. His Perseverance.

TO conclude at length this Argument of the Vertues of Philip; He knowing, that no work be it never so laborious, never so laudable, unless it be consummate and crowned with Perseverance, may be rightly termed an act of compleat Vertue; resolutely persisted in a constant and even tract of Piety to his End. So that as soon as he came to Rome, and understood that he was called thither to Labour in the Lords Vineyard, for the space of threescore Years, he went not so much as once with­out the City walls, except out of devotion to visit the Seven Churches. And though his friends often urged him to go to this or that place for his recrea­tion, and especially his kinred, that he would come to Florence; yet could he never be perswaded to leave the City.

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

He did ever and anon inculcate that lesson to his; Non qui inceperit, sed qui persever averit usque in finem, hic salvus erit. Not he that begins, but that endureth [Page 190] unto the end, shall be saved. And the better to ex­cite them to so excellent a Vertue, he instilled into them that Golden Mean of Discretion, saying; ‘E­very thing must not be attempted in one day; nor all the Stages of Holiness be posted over in three: adding that it was a harder matter to regu­late such as were too venturous, than to quick­en the timorous or sluggish: also, that the ex­ternall work was not so strictly to be stood on, nor the means so eagerly to be pursued, as to forget the chief end and scope thereof. Again, that the body should so far be kept low as that the Passions of the mind might not rebell. He fur­ther affirmed, that the exercises of Piety were not lightly to be omitted, whereto a man had formerly obliged himself; therefore those that tasked themselves with too many duties of Reli­gion did not wisely: for they who so over-bur­dened themselves either desisted as being tired therewith, or dispatched them too fast. Therefore he wished his to chuse a moderate course for Spi­rituall matters, which having once entred upon they should never lay aside: inasmuch as the subtile Enemy of mankind, if once he can interrupt one duty of Piety, will not surcease his assaults, till he have destroyed all. Therefore he oft re­peated this document to his;’ Nulla dies sine linea. No day without some stroak.

‘He exhorted them likewise to reinforce and strengthen their resolutions of Holiness every day; never despairing under trialls, seeing God first suffers him, whom he intends to advance to eminency in any Vertue, to be assailed with en­counters from the oposite Vice. He taught them, that the Spirit of devotion was conferred plenti­fully [Page 191] at the first, but afterward God made shew of withdrawing himself, that the Soul, thus be­rest of celestiall consolations, might learn to grow and feed on more solid meat. Moreover he said there were three kinds of spitituall life. The first he called the Animall; wherein men are attracted with a certain sensible devotion as beasts are by their fodder. The second he termed the Rationall; when without any allectives of plea­sure, men contend for vertue in continuall op­position of the Passions. The third he intitled Angelicall; when the heat of Passion being allay­ed, they enjoyed a quiet serenity and peace in the contemplation of God. Of these three be bid his chiefly aim at the second assuring them, that in time they should by Gods grace attain the third.’

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

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

He was always jealous of those, whether Laicks or Regulars, that kept not their Stations, but [Page 192] shifted to this and that and then to a stricter kind of life: for the devill, quoth he, transforming himself into an Angel of light, labours under the false disguises of a more perfect life to seduce men from the right path. Maximianus Burgus of Verona was by a certain Lord entertained into his House, on con­ditions he should not be put to some employments, that he might have the more leisure to serve God. But the Nobleman breaking his word with him once or twice, Maximianus purposed to leave him; whom the B. man with many and severall argu­ments perswades to stay, telling him at last; If you run away from this cross, you shall certainly fall into another worse. And so it was; for when he went from his Lord he wandred up and down in con­tinuall unsettlement.

But though in generall he wished to all this gift of Perseverance, yet did he more especially re­commend it to them of the Congregation. There­fore in the first place, he seldome suffered any of them to go out of the City: as may appeare by that which follows. A young man of a very good family was admitted into the Order of the Oratory, he being of excellent parts had raised huge ex­pectations of himself among all. But, growing somwhat sickly, his friends advised him for his health to change the air; which thing the H. man liked not of, but overcome with urgent intreaties gave him leave to go, the rather for that another of the Congregation was to travell upon earnest bu­siness into those Quarters. But he whispered some in the ear wich were by; Two indeed shall go hence, but there shall come back but one of them. And his prediction proved true, for the one having dis­patched his business returned to the City, but the [Page 193] young man setled himself in his Country: as may be seen by Philips letter sent him, part whereof was to this effect.

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

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

Nor could he willingly suffer them to go from the City so much as to found Congregations in the neighbouring Towns, or to settle such as were al­ready erected: but by his good will would have them abide constantly at Rome. Which besides that our Fathers do often inculcate this to the Ju­niors of the Society, may be gathered from his Let­ters writ to S. Carlo Berromeo; for the wise Prelate [Page 194] desiring one of Philips Sons to labour in his Vine­yard, he made this answer. ‘In regard some of them (speaking of the Priests of the Congregati­on) are but newly entred upon their Studies, and are yet raw, it passeth my understanding to con­ceive how it can be convenient, to take them from their Studies without a fault. And a little after, such as are fitly qualified we can in no wise spare, for we our selves need their help most of all; so that if at any time I be forced, upon occasion, to send one away: I even tremble to think on it, and humbly commend my self to the Lord Christ.’ Whereby may evidently be seen, what his opinion herein was.

CHAP. I. His Extasies and Rapts.

ALmighty God, having thus adorned his Servant with the embellishments of so ma­ny and so rare Vertues, was not want­ing to him in those unmerited favours, called by [Page 195] Divines Gratia gratis datae, Graces freely given men, which he also most liberally conferred upon him. First he had many Extasies and strange Raptures, bathing himself daily in the delicious pleasures of celestiall contemplation; though Good man he la­boured to avoid them all he could, out of his deep Humility.

There was once a weighty cause to be debated before the Pope, whereupon the Fathers Dominicans who were concerned therein ex­posed the B. Sacrament of the This is ave [...]red by three sworn wit­nesses, all Priests. Eucharist for the space of forty hours, within the precincts of their Monastery, where Philip and Franc. Maria Taurusius with some others met. And as the H. man was in most fervent prayer, on the sudden he fell into a Trance, his eyes [...] fixed on the Sacrament, and his who [...] [...] unmoved. They run presently to him, call him by his Name, and feeling his hands, face and b [...]est find them as cold as ice; so that suspecting some dangerous disease had seized him, they carry him between their hands to his Chamber. Wh [...] [...]e had continued so a pretty while, coming at length to himself he cries out, Parta est nobis victoria, ex­audita est oratio nostra: The victory is ours; our pray­ers are heard. At which they being amazed ask the reason of his Trance, and what victory he meant. He at first wa [...] shy of declaring himself, but at the earnest instance of those which were present, Know then, quoth he, the business that was prayed for shall succeed well. And being questioned about his Extasie, he answered, ‘That he saw Christ Jesus in the H. Hoast stretching forth his hand and blessing them that prayed and therefore they [Page 196] ought to render unto God all bounden thanks.’ And that very instant in which the servant of God recovered his senses again, news was brought, that the Pope had given sentence for them.

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

Once Antonius Gallonius took him in bed like one [Page 197] that had been dead, and presently sends for the Physicians, who through mistake judging it to be an Apoplexy caused his head to be opened with a hot iron, and severall causticks to be applied to him: John Franciscus Bordinus, supposing he was a draw­ing on, anoints him with the H. Oyle. When coming to himself again he demands of them why they used him so; they replyed; O Father, you are in a dangerous disease. He smilingly told them; Sons, know, a worse mischief could not befal me than this you have now done. By which they gathered, that it was a Trance, not a disease, that fell upon him.

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

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

Some there were likewise that saw his whole bo­dy hoised up into the air; among others Pau­lo Sfondrato, Cardinall, Priest of the Title of S. Cecily, saw him raised up to the roof of his chamber at his Prayers: See the twentieth cha­pter of the Life of S. Te­resa, where she hath these words. [And so extream is the violence of these Rapts, that many times I have endeavoured to resist them, and have put all my strength to it, and especially when they came up­on [Page 198] me in publike, and often also in private (fearing lest I might be deceived) but seldom could I prevaile, and that also but very little. And it cost me a very great deal of harrassing and toile to my self, just so as if an ordinary person had been fighting with some strong Giant; and afterward I should find my self very weary. But at othertimes it was altogether impossible for me to hinder it; for my Soul would be carried ab­solutely away, and (ordinarily) even my head (as it were) after it; yea and this sometimes so far, as that my whole body would be transported so, as to be raised up from the ground. This last hath hapned rarely to me; but once it was upon the very point to arrive, whilst we all were assembled together in the Quire; and I being then upon my knees (and at the point of going to receive the blessed Sacrament) it put me to an extreamity of trou­ble, because it seemed to be a very extraordinary thing, & that instantly there would be much notice taken of it, and so I commanded my religious women (for at that time I was Prioress) that they should not speak of it to any creature. But at other times when I began to dis­cern, that our Lord was going about to do the same a­gain (and once, in particular, when divers principall Ladyes were present; and it was upon the Feast of our Patron when there was a Sermon) I did even spread my self all along upon the ground, and though the re­ligious women came then about me, to keep my body down, yet the thing was easily perceived. Ʋpon this I humbly prayed our Lord in most particular manner, that by no means he would do me any such favours, as might carry any of these exterior demonstrations with them; for already I was very weary of being continually so wary and watchfull over my self: for that such kind of favours could not possibly be done me by his Divine Majesty, but so that every body would come to know it. And it seems that through his goodness he hath been pleased to hear my prayer; for since that time I never had any Rapts of that kind, and to that proportion; but it is true, that it is not long since I had the last. Moreover when I endeavoured to hinder such a Rapt, so strong a hand and power from under my feet seemed to lift me up, that I know not what to compare it unto: for it was done with much greater force, than in those other things that belong to the Spirit: and therefore I remained as it were bruised and dismembred with it.] which he, as a specta­tor thereof, related a­gain to Pope Paul the V.

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

He was once at Prayer in the Vatican, before the H. Co [...]fessionall, as they call it, of the Prince of [Page 200] the Apostles, when on a sudden he was seen upon his knees caught up into the air, his body and habit re­maining stil in the same posture, as if he pray'd knee­ling upon the earth; till by degrees he came down and took his former place. But fearing the praise of men he stole away thence privately: & that the like might not befall him again, he was wont, at his en­trance into the Church with his Sons, to rise up and to be gone, so soon as ever he had kneeled.

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

Sulpitia Sirleta, seeing the Servant of God raised about a handful from the steps of the Altar thought with her self; Certainly this man is moved by some evill spirit: but coming afterward to Confession to him, and being ashamed and affraid to discover as much, she begins in a low voice to mutter thus; Father I said; and her voice stopping there, she ut­tered no more. To whom Philip; Go on thou Mad­ling what troubles thee? hast thou conceited any ill of me? That is it, replyed she. What was it then? said he. Sulpitia answered; Some three dayes since as you were saying Mass and I saw you lift up into the air: at that, he putting his finger to her mouth said, Peace. But she went on; I said in my heart; This man sure is led by some evill Spirit. With that [Page 201] he smiled and told her; 'tis true daughter; 'tis true in­deed, I am moved by an evil Spirit.

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

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

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

Last of all a Maid of some twelve years of age had many times seen the H. man at Mass inveloped in a bright cloud, and though he wore a Cope of a different colour according to the diversity of the [Page 202] season, yet she had never seen him but arrayed in white still. These and divers other Rapts and Ex­tasies he sustained, of which enough at present.

CHAP. II. His Visions.

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

He prayed once in Christmas time at Church, his sons Constantius Tassonius, and Sebastian the Musici­an being with him, and while he was in deep medi­tation on our Lord. behold! Jesus appeared upon the Altar in the likeness of an Infant. And sup­posing [Page 203] his Companions had also seen it, he said; Do not ye see the Child Jesus standing on the Altar? They saying No, he perceived the Vision was not discovered to the rest, so quietly went on in his Prayer, without any more words of it.

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

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

Vincentius the Limner, as he was called, a Holy man, and one of the first of the same Society, pre­sently after his death shewed himself to Philip all glittering with light, who beheld him as he went to heaven; and going the next day to comfort [Page 204] his Wife, Your Husband, saith he, knocked at my cham­ber door to night, and came and recommended you and your family to me: at which words the woman was revived, whom together with her Children, Philip thence-forward relieved with all things necessary.

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

Fabricius de Maximis had a Daughter of some thirteen years of age, named Helena, a Virgin deep­ly wounded with the Love of Christ, and rigidly obedient to her Confessor; thrice aweek she receiv­ed the Body of our Lord, having more appetite to her Prayers than repast: she would bitterly weep over the Passion of our Saviour; and did so much endeavour the vilifying of her self, that she made it her ambition to be a Servant to all; and was exceedingly desirous to suffer for Christs sake, that at least in part she might testify her gratitude to­ward him; in her last sickness, after that Baronius [Page 205] had given her the heavenly Viaticum, she saw the Lord Christ besprinkling her Soul with blood; and foretelling the hour of her departure piously de­ceased. Her Philip saw, as she hastned to the heaven­ly mansions, Angels singing and attending on her.

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

There died Joh. Animuccius Master of the Musique in the Vatican, who came every day to the Orato­ry, and when the sermons were done, ordered the Musique, for he was excellent in that Art, a man of so unblemished a Chastity, that after he had be­gun by Philips directions to serve Christ, he lived with his Wife as with a Sister: and obtained of God such favour that having all his life been much tormented with scruples, toward his latter end he was absolutely freed from them. Now it hapned, that three years after his death [...] [Page 206] Sermons were ended on a certain day he appeared to one Alphonso a Portuguese; and as they walked to­gether questioned him on this wise: Is the Oratory newly broke up, It is, replyed Alphonso. Then I pray saith he, intreat Philip from me, to pray to God for me: and therewith vanished. At that Alphonso calling to mind, how Animuccius had been dead long since, stept back to see if it where he, but finding no body comes trembling and quaking to Philip and relates to him the whole story, who en­joyned him, the day following to draw it up into a brief Narrative, and recite it in the Oratory. Next he gave order that in severall Churches of the Ci­ty, Masses should be said for the deceased Soul. When all was thus performed, He tells them pub­likly. Our Animuccius is now gone by: intimating that he passed from Purgatory to Paradise. And hence was it that having oft beheld the Souls of Holy Persons, he affirmed, the Beauty of them was unexpressable.

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

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

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

He went sometime to the Baths of Dioclesian, to see the Church of S. Maria Angelorum and looking This was publish­ed by Vincent Daffabriano who was present. up he spied on part of an old stone wall an evill spirit, shifting himself into severall forms, now of an old, then of a young man, one while handsom, by and by ugly. Philip knowing that he assumed those shapes to delude him, imploring the Divine aid commands him to be gone, at which he immediatly departed, polluting the air with noisome vapour: for the impure Spirit used, as oft as he shewed himself to the H. man, to an­noy him with these filthy stinks. It was most what a smell of Sulphur, and continued long, and only he [Page 208] smelt it; yet sometimes, though but seldome, some of his were affected with it. He once laid his hands on a woman that was possest, as the Priests manner is, and it seems they retained that filthy sent, so that though he washed them in sweet water, and scoured them with Nitre, yet they would not be clean; he made his Penitents smell sometimes to this stink, that so being offended with the lothsom­ness thereof they might more carefully learn to abhor and avoid the filthyness of sin.

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

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

By these frequent apparitions, both from God and from the Devil unto him, it came to pass, that as oft as he spake to his Sons of this Argument, he constantly asserted that Doctrine of the Saints; ‘That they were not things to be stood on. Neither could he by any means approve their spirit, that eagerly sought after such things; neither did he think it sufficient, for one to say: I regard not Visi­ons; [Page 209] therefore such as are illusions shall not befall me: because these many times hapned also to those, who are no wayes desirous of Visions. That it was a hard matter, not to be puffed up with them; a harder, to count ones self not worthy of them; but most difficult of all, to judg ones self utterly unwor­thy thereof, and not to prefer such Visions before Vertues and a solid piety. He said likewise, those Visions were to be rejected, at least, with much caution to be received, that neither profited the Church, nor ones self, promoting neither the publick nor private good of others. He fore­warned Confessors, that they should make but light account of the Revelations of Penitents, of women especially, for that women presently ima­gine themselves at the top of perfection, but in process of time you will find the Sanctity they pretend to, savours either of vanity or hypocrisy: and that many such have fallen foully, and end­ed unhappily. Therefore going once into the Pulpit to preach, finding himself beginning to be in an Extasy and labouring by all force to sup­press it, he strook his hand upon his thigh, saying, He that pursues after Visions and Trances, knows not what he doeth: so bursting forth into teares he departed. Another time when a Scholar of his preached about some such subject to the People, getting up into the Chair on the sudden he began thus: I know a Religious woman, that had many Trances, at length by the Divine Providence so it was, she never had any more. When think ye, O my Auditors, that I prized her most? Then certainly when her Extasies ceased: and having so said went out of the Desk.’

Some had told him, how a Virgin of the third [Page 210] Order of S. Dominic had seen Christ divers times, but frequently the B. Katharine of Siena; his answer was Doubtless women are easily seduced: therefore bid her from me as oft as shee sees the like shadows again, spit boldly in their faces. The Maid observed his directi­ons, and acknowledged she received much benefit thereby.

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

Ant. Fuccius a Physician, formerly named, had the charge of a certain Nun much famed for piety. She on a time fell into an extasy, he watching, her till she came again to her senses: when waking suddenly, saith she to him; O with what wonderfull light did I see thee encircled in the heavens! All which Antony diligently observing relates again to Philip and the same day sickened; his disease encreasing on him, the Father of Lies like a Physician comes to him to deceive him, promising that he should speedily recover, and live a long time after. The [Page 211] patient acquaints the H. man with what had hapned who being enlightned from above tells him it was not a Physician, but Satan, who had vainly assured him his life. Fuccius understanding the Devils subtil­ty hereby, resigns up himself to the Divine pleasure, dying very happily soon after. So that Philip u­sed▪ upon occasions still, carefully to admonish his, not lightly to credit Visions, such especially as promised longer life; saying, It was far less danger not to believe true, than to believe false o [...]s.

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

CHAP. III. He foretelleth the Deaths of divers.

MOreover also was he enlightned with the Gift of Prophesy, by the Father of lights. For to begin at that first, which men fear most, He fore-told the Death of sundry persons. Constantius Tassonius, oft mentioned above, being called from [Page 212] Millan to Rome by Pope Pius the V. of B. Memory, coming directly to S. Hieroms alighted off his horse, whom one Of this Cardinal Taurusius, and Germanicus Fi­delius are sworn witnesses. of Philips Sons, spying out of a window, informs the H. man, how Tassonius was at the Gate. He commands Octavius Paravicinus and Germanicus Fidelius, both at that time Young men, to ly at the Threshold of the Door, where Tassonius was to pass, as though they were dead. They did so, and Tassonius seeing them laid all along in that fashion was something troubled, and stopt: at length desired of them room to pass by, they lay still, till the Father bid them rise; when Constantius ran to the embracing of Philip. And shortly after sickned and died; as the Good man by that passage had hinted to him.

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

He once called to Franc. a Molaria upon the sud­den, asking him; What would you do, if your Wife should dy? her Name was Fulvia de Cavaleriis. I know nor, saith he, Then consider on't with your self: quoth he. Away went the man; and his Wife, [Page 213] though young and lusty, within ten dayes was seiz­ed with a violent Fever, and the fifteenth day died.

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

Orinthia, the Wife of Pompeius Columna, one e­minent for her Noble Extract, but much more, for the accomplishments of vertue, visiting frequently the sick women in Hospitalls, especially the Incurable, and doing them all charitable offices, fell dange­rously ill. Her chief Doctors told her, it was but a [Page 214] slight malady; but she sends for Philip, as relying more upon him; He after a long discourse about di­vine matters, as he was about to go away, dipt his finger in a little Holy water, and crossed her as she lay; recommending to her Meditation the Passion of our Lord. Going from the Palace the Physicians met him, He tels them, Orinthia is very ill. They laughed, Do you make a jest of it saith Philip take it from me, she will dy such a day. At that they burst into a louder laughing. But the day Philip had na­med, Orinthia died.

Helena Ciba, and her Husband Dominicus Maz­zeus fell both sick. When Tami­ria Cevola, Helen's Mother, go­ing Of this Tamiria is a sworn wit­ness. to the H. man about them, told him I fear Father I shall lose both my Daughter, and son in Law. He answered, One is enough: and said no more. The event made good his words; for Dominicus died, and Helena recovering forsook the World, and betook her to a Monastery.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Desiderius Consalvius, of the Order of Predicants, was sick of a violent Fever, which drave him into a Frenzy, and he This Desiderius and J. Compa­rottus, with two ey-witnesses more publikely attested. now lay a dying. At the same [Page 216] time Franc. Bencinius fell ill in the same Monastery, but in less perill: Philip visits them both; presaging death to Bencinius, to Consalvius life; and so it hapned; for this, recovered, the other died

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

CHAP. IV. He foretelleth the recovery of divers

ANd lest any, should think Him a bringer of ill news only, and a Messenger of death, 'twill be worth the while, in a few instances to observe, how he oftimes proved to many the welcome Harbinger of life and health. A high Fever, with a Flux of bloud, had seized on Cardinall Franc. Sforza, then retired unto his Country-house, which in two and twenty days so increased, that he could take no sus­tenance, [Page 217] but discovered very desperate Symptoms of approaching death, for which he was prepared by the Sacramentall Refection. His Mother Katharine dispatches straight a sure messenger to Philip. to desire him, to remember her sick Son in his Prayers to God. He sends word again, the Cardinall should not dy of that sickness; upon which answer he be­gan to mend, and in short time was restored to per­fect health.

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

Joh. Baptista Altovitus lay sick, whom the Doctors affirmed to be past cure. But Phi­lip, after he had prayed for him, This Cardinall Taurusius pub­lickly attested. calls Franc. Maria Taurusius, bid­ding him; Go tell Altovitus from me; you shall not dy of this sickness, but to morrow you shall mend, and in a short time be well a­gain. He went, and did so; and he recovered.

Bartholom. Dottius, of Modena, was ill of a Fever once, and having an office at Court, being one of the Guard, his Nephew desires Philip to pray for his Vncle, chiefly upon this intention, that so he might confer his office on him. The H. man told him; Your Vncle shall not dy now, but upon his next sickness shall, and yet not leave you his place. So Dottius got [Page 218] rid of that malady, but died a few years after of a­nother; without conferring his Office on his Nephew.

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

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

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

Constantia Draco as it were breathing out her last, saith Philip to her; Doubt not; for ere long you shall grow Of this are two sworn ey-witnes­ses, besides Con­stantia herself. strong and lively again, and come to S Hierome's. She find­ing it so indeed, thereupon chose him for her Confessor.

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

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

Upon his pronouncing the same words, Doubt not, Joh. Franc. de Bernardis, Priest of the Congregation, presently re­vived, This the same Francis, and A­lexander Allu­minatus, who at­tended him in his sickness witnessed upon oath. beyond the apprehension of all, when he had been anoin­ed [Page 220] with the Sacred Oile as he lay a dying. Agnesina Columna, one of the most eminent Matrons in Rome, both for Nobility and Pi­ety, recovered of a disease, in which the Physicians judged her past all hopes, upon his meer saying, Doubt not, as he used to do. So likewise did Joh. Babtista Cribellius, in a Fever; and divers others, in the very pangs of death recover­ed, whom he had foretold should live. As is at­tested by the experience of Montes Zazzara and ma­ny others.

CHAP. V. Sever all other Predictions of His.

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

Helena Ciba, being in violent throws of Child-birth, sent for the B. man to confess to; and after Confession, desired him to be God-father to her child [Page 221] when it was born; it will not need, quoth he, any God-father: and so departed. That night Helen was delivered of a still-born Child.

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

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

He went one time to the Religious House Turris Speculorum, and out of Devotion visited the old Church, seated in the innermost part of it, four of the Nuns attending him. As he went, he bids one of them; Go to Prayer: who answered, she had no leisure, by reason of her many employments. One of the four, Maria Magdalena Anguillaria, then in her Prime, asked him; Father what say you to me? who neither follow my Prayers, nor do any thing else. You, quoth Philip, indeed do nothing now; but yet you shall [Page 222] be an Abbess: at which the rest burst out in laughing. The Good man merrily asked; What, do you laugh? one of these dayes you will say, Philip long ago told us as much: and turning to Magdalen, who laughed lowder then the rest, he said frowning; And do you laugh? Remember Philip told it you. So it fell out, forty years after this, in the year one thousand six hundred thirty five. Those that had been Ab­besses all dying, Hieronyma Taschia, who then go­verned losing her fight they were forced to chuse another; which was Maria Magdalena Angaillaria, as Philip had presaged.

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

Thomas Minerbettus and Pet. Anton Morellus, came to him once, from a Priest of the Society of Jesus, to advise with him about matters for the Soul. Pet. Antonio had a mind, to go into a Monastery of the Cassinenses; Thomas to be a Priest: and both ex­pecting his answer. Philip touching Morrellus with a staff he had in his hand, told him, You shall not be a Monk: then turning to Thomas, Nor you, quoth he, a Priest. And so it proved; for Thomas mar­ried, [Page 223] and Peter Antony died an Ordinary Priest at S. Flora's.

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

In the year One thousand five hundred siventy six, four of the Congregation went to Millan, upon some business for Of this (to omit o­thers) Cardinall Taurusius is a sworn witness. the Oratory: and while they staid there, Philip on the sudden sends for Taurusius, bidding him, Dis­patch and write to them at Mil­lan, to make all hast to Rome presently. Taurusius answered, it was not for certain reasons conveni­ent, that they should just then return: the H. man replies leave Disputing, and without demurrs, do as you are bid. Strange! the Letter was no sooner come to Millan, but the City began to be in­fected with the Plague, which raged so sore, that [Page 224] two of those four, though they staid but a very small while, were scarce able to get to Rome; yet when the Letters were writ, there was not the least suspicion of Pestilence at Millan.

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

The like befell Horatius Riccius a Jerusalem Knight, an intimate friend of Cardinall Frederic Borromeo's. He being much displeased at some Courtiers, that had touched him somewhat too near in point of Honour, rose very early to walk, and by chance met Philip, who asked him, whither he went; he answers, to recreate my mind a lit­tle: Philip understanding the reason by Divine illuminations, takes away the Knight with him, [Page 225] to some other business he had; but coming too soon, they were fain to tarry there two hours; in which space the Father falls a reading to himself in a devout Book. The Knight who came out to walk, chafed extreamly, that he should in cour­tesy be kept there against his will, when Philip coming to him, bids him; Doubt not: all shall go well; say I told you so. The Knight hereupon took courage, out of a confidence he had, upon the H. mans words: and fifteen dayes after, Cardinall Bor­romeo, being informed of the proceedings, dis­carded them his Court who had wronged him, and in favour to him, preferred him to be one of the Bed Chamber to Pope Clement the VIII.

Dominicus Rodulphus, a Regular Priest, travelling through Rome from Naples to Cremona, and hear­ing of the great sanctity of Philip, repairs to him: so taking him attending on the hearing Con­fessions, he salutes him, to whom the H. man, Go on, whither Duty of Obedience calls you; and there watch for the good of Souls; and know, in due time you shall be a Bishop: but let me forewarn you of an eminent danger that awaits you in your journey, which by Gods Blessing, and the Virgins Aid, you shall escape. So as he went to Cremona, coming to the Alps, which looked toward Florence, he sunk into a Bog on the sudden, with his horse under him, where he stuck fast mired up to the throat. In which perill, those who were by, unable to help him, commended his soul to God, as the manner is: then Rodulphus, remembring Philips words, craved his assistance; be­stirring him with his hands, and etching out by degrees, till at length he by little and little craw­led half-dead out of that clammy mud: his horse they could scarce draw forth with the strength of [Page 226] four Oxen. When he came to Cremona, he ad­dicted himself to the exercise of Piety, and devo­tion, till the year one thousand six handred nineteen, in which, as Philip foretold of him, he was elected Bishop of Auria.

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

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

John Francis Aldobrandin, Generall in chief of all the Ecclesiasticall Militia, seeing one time in Phi­lips chamber two Cardinalls Escucheons hanging a­gainst the Wall, whose bearing was Two Deaths-heads, he asks what those Deaths heads with the Cardinalls Hats beto ened. They s [...]gnifie, saith he, that when I am dead, two of my Congregation shall [Page 227] be chosen Cardinalls. And indeed after his de­cease, Francis Maria Taurusius of Monte Pulciano, and Caesar Baronius of Sora, Priests of the Congrega­tion of the Oratory, were by Clement the VIII. dig­nified with the Purple. Yea twenty years before Philip told Francis Neri as much, who asking him further, whether Baronius should be Pope, he an­swered; He should not. And upon the vacancy of the See, by the death of Clement the VIII. when Baronius was by all salu [...]ed as Pope, Francis stood stiffly in it, that it would never be, for Philip had so assured him long before.

In like manner he foretold Hierom Pamphilio of his being Cardinall, as he himself testifyed in these words. ‘Going once to the B. man, as he lay sick in bed, to disburden my conscience to him, he thus spake to me; You are desirous to be a Car­dinall. I answered; I never had any such thought he replyed; Indeed you shall be one: at which I laughed to my self. And he often with an asseveration affirmed; You shall certainly be a Cardinall.’ Thus Hierom. who long after the Fathers death was advanced to that dignity by Clement the VII.

Innocentius Cardinall de Bubalo avouched this up­on oath. ‘The B. Father oft told me I should be chosen one of the Canons of the Vatican, which I, as being unknown to the Pope, and seeing no liklyhood for me to expect such a preferment, put off with a jest: and the more he averred it, still I the less believed it. When lo! in the year One thousand five hundred ninety four, If I mistake not, about the first of August, Cardinall Aldobrandi [...]us unexpectedly comes to me, and tells me the Pope had conferred a Prebendary of [Page 228] S. Peters that was vacant on me, at that time neither seeking, nor so much as thinking on it. Some few dayes after, as I staid with the B. Fa­ther, he seeing me very joyfull upon the obtain­ing my Canonry, said; These are but petty matters, you shall be taken into the Colledge of Cardinals, at which I laughing aloud, because it seemed not only unlikely, but to me impossible, yet Philip daily had it up still. And when afterward I was by the Divine Providenc [...] ▪ and the favour of Cle­ment the VIII. made Cardinall, I perceived the H. man had oft presaged this my advancement unto my Sister Silvia, a Devota in Turris Specu­lorum:’ who when I once lay sick in France, would still confidently say, I should not dye of that sick­ness, forasmuch as the B. Philips prediction must be first fulfilled.

Cardinall Francis Diatristano left written in Lat­in to this purpose. ‘When I lived in Rome at Pope Clement the Eighths Court being one of his Bed­chamber, and his Gentleman, the Most Illustrious and R. Cardinall Peter A'dobrandin, the Popes Brothers Son, at that time Governour of the Cast­le of S. Angelo, took me with him one day to the famous Church of S: Mary's of the Oratory, and so to the House. Where after he had visited the Father, the now Blessed Philip Neri, I was brought in to him; so soon as the Venerable old man be­held me, presently stepping aside into another Room, he takes out of a Chest a Cardinals red Hat old and worn, which laughing he puts upon my head, and looking on them who were by, he said in Italian; O che bell Cardinalino: O what a brave Cardinall he'l make! I not knowing the Illumina­tions by which he afar off discerned things to [Page 229] come, blushed, and was a litle displeased, that I, because a youth, should thus be mocked by the Old man, (I confess my folly and infirmity here­in) but my own modesty, the authority of the Person, and the respect due unto the Company, gave check to my Passion: and not long after, the success hereof confirmed the action of the Reli­gious Father, and condemn'd my heat: yea I my self condemn it, who▪ now requested thereto, have, to thy honour Most B. Philip, with my own hand subscribed this relation, and do declare it for true, witness my hand and seale.’

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

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

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

But strangely remarkable was his Prediction of Cardinall Hippolytus Aldobrandinus's being Pope: for the said Cardinall being with Augustine Car­dinall of Cusa, in Curtius de Maximis his Gardens, by the Way Septimia, where Philip by chance was; Curtius coming a litle nearer said; Father I would intreat you to prefer me to the acquaintance of Cardi­nall Aldobrandine. That I will, answered Philip; and I tell you further, Aldobrandin shall not dy a Cardinall, And some four moneths after Inno­cent [Page 231] the Ninth dying, Hippolitus was advanced unto the See. And which is more yet to be wondred at, he not only affirmed he should be Pope, but told his Name too,; for speaking to Abbot Maffa one evening, Aldobrandin, saith he, shall be made Pope, and his Name shall be Clement.

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

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

FUrther, this B. man, full of Divine Revelations, beheld things far distant, as though they had bin near at hand. Once Baronius came to him to Confession whom he This Cardinal Baronius af­firmed upon oath in no wise would hear, but bid him; Go to the Hospitall of Santo Spirito, and visit the Sick; he answered; that the usuall hour of ministring to the Sick was past. Break off these delays replies the [Page 232] Father, and do your Duty. So he went, and prying among the Beds of them that were Sick, he found one having a Crucifix, and a Taper burning by him, as being in the pangs of death, who, by reason that he came into the Hospitall at the hour, when the Confessor of the place had newly performed his office, and was gone, lay there without having made his Confession. Baronius, coming nearer, demanded, whether he had confessed his sins? he answered No. Thereupon he took care for a Confessor to come and hear his Confession, give him the H. Eucharist, and administer unto him what was requisite; which was no sooner done, but he departed: Baronius returning and acquainting Philip with what hapned, saith He, Caesar, hence forward learn more to prize the Vertue of Obedience.

Taurusius came once to Confession to him, who ask'd him; Ho you, what's be­come of that honest and vertu­ous This Card. Fr. Ma­ria T [...]urusius him­self avouched upon oath. woman? how long is it since you saw her? Make hast quickly, for I am much troubled for the saving of her Soul. She was [...] very diligent and carefull Attendant on the Hos­pitall of S. Iames of the Incurabili. Away ran Taurusius, and finds the Woman with a Cross at her Beds-hed, breathing her last: whom, what by his Prayers, and Exhortations, he greatly relieved in that her last Agony. The like befell a certain Commander, to whom Philip dispatched some to look him out, who found him a drawing on, and were assistant to him in his last Conflict.