The eating only once in three days, so he told his sister Saint,
was by no means impossible, if you began the regimen in your youth. To
conquer sleep was the hardest of all austerities which he practised:--I
fancy the pious individual so employed, day after day, night after night,
on his knees, or standing up in devout meditation in the cupboard--his
dwelling-place; bareheaded and barefooted, walking over rocks, briars,
mud, sharp stones (picking out the very worst places, let us trust, with
his downcast eyes), under the bitter snow, or the drifting rain, or the
scorching sunshine--I fancy Saint Peter of Alcantara, and contrast him
with such a personage as the Incumbent of Lady Whittlesea's Chapel,
Mayfair.
His hermitage is situated in Walpole Street, let us say, on the second
floor of a quiet mansion, let out to hermits by a nobleman's butler,
whose wife takes care of the lodgings. His cells consist of a refectory,
a dormitory, and an adjacent oratory where he keeps his shower-bath and
boots--the pretty boots trimly stretched on boot-trees and blacked to a
nicety (not varnished) by the boy who waits on him.
Pages:
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277