# A golden treatise of mental prayer/With what austerity and mortification the holy Father lived

CHAPTER IV.
WITH WHAT AUSTERITY AND MORTIFICATION THE HOLY FATHER LIVED.
Because for the most part this Holy Father lived in solitary convents, most remote from worldly tumults, or rather hermitages, all his rigorous penance could not be taken notice of by any. Nevertheless, we will set down some, which he could not hide from those with whom he conversed.
He did wear, for seven years together, a hair shirt, full of hard knots. St. Theresa affirmeth that he wore it twenty years.
Besides plates of iron, and other things wherewith he tyrannized ever his tender flesh. His disciplines were so frequent and bloody, that he seemed rather the trunk of a tree than a human body. He would never cover his head although it rained ever so fast, or the sun shined ever so hot. His diet was so slender and mean, that, in his youth, and old age, he did eat nothing but brown bread, and the most musty crusts that he could find. If sometimes he recreated himself with a few boiled herbs, he would not be so delicious as to eat them with oil. Being Superior he caused as many beans and peas to be boiled at once, as ​should serve the convent for seven days together, which austerity his subjects most willingly embraced, being glad, in some measure, to imitate their chief. But he seasoned his own portion with ashes, or some ungrateful liquor, lest his palate should take pleasure in his meat.
Mother Theresa hath heard his companions say, that sometimes he lived eight days together without any meat or drink, especially when with more violence, he addicted himself to devotion. For he suffered in his prayers frequent raptures and extacies, of which (saith she) I am witness. He never drank wine, but water, though, for the infirmity of his stomach, it was prescribed to him by the physician: but he constantly refused it, saying, that nothing was so repugnant to holy purity and abstinence as flesh and wine, the one being an enemy to chastity, the other to contemplation, both which, as long as he lived, by God's grace, he would enjoy. I will set down for the satisfaction of the devout reader, the words of ever blessed Theresa, the glory and foundress of the discalceated Carmelites, to whom he was sometimes ghostly father, of whom she confesseth to have received much spiritual comfort; whose authority, by reason of her renowned sanctity, and living at the same time with him, is without control. Her words be these. ​" Almighty God bereaved us of a man of admirable example, when he took out of this life Father Peter of Alcantara. The world, it seemeth, could endure no longer so great a perfection. They say, that our health is not so good; that now those times be past, this holy man was of this time, he was fat in spirit, as those of other ages; he had also the world under his feet, for, though we do not go barefoot, nor do such austere penance as he did, there are many things (as I have said elsewhere) to tread down the world withal. And our Lord teacheth them, when he seeth such a mind, as he gave, in great measure, to this holy man, which I speak of, to continue forty-seven years together in such austere penance, as all know. I will declare some part of it, for I know that it is all true. He told it to me and to another, from whom he concealed little, and the cause why he told it me, was the great love which he bore me, and which our Lord gave him to defend me, and encourage me, in the time of so great necessity, as that was, which I have spoken of, and will declare further. It seemeth to me, that he told me, that he had slept no more than an hour and a half betwixt day and night for the space of forty years, and this was the greatest difficulty he found in his penance at the beginning, to overcome his sleep, and for this cause he did always, either kneel or stand, and when he slept it was sitting, leaning: his head against a little ​piece of wood, which he had driven into the wall, he could not lie down, though he would, for his cell, as is known, was no longer than four feet and a half. In all these years he never put on his capuce, how great sun-shine or rain soever was; neither had he any thing on his feet, nor other garment, but his habit of coarse cloth, without any other thing next his skin, and this as straight as could be endured, and a short cloak of the same upon it. He told me that when it was very cold he did put it off, and opened the door and little window of his cell; that afterwards, when he did put his cloak on again, and shut his door, he might give some contentment and recreate his body, which before was frozen with cold. He did very ordinarily eat but once in three days: and he asked me at what I marvelled, for it was very possible for one that accustomed himself to it. His poverty was extreme, and likewise his mortification in his youth. With all his sanctity, he was very affable, though he used not many words, if he were not spoken to, for then he was very pleasing, having a good understanding. And a little after, " His end was like his life, preaching and admonishing his friars. When he saw death draw nigh, he said the psalm: " Laetatus sum in his, quae dicta sunt mihi," and kneeling down, departed. Since our Lord hath let me enjoy him more then in his life, giving me advice and counsel in many things, I have seen him many times in ex​ceeding great glory. The first time he appeared unto me, he said, " O happy penance which did merit such a reward!" and many other things. A year before he died, he appeared to me, being absent, and I knew that he should die, and I sent him word, being some leagues from hence. When he gave up the ghost, he appeared to me and said, that he went to rest, I believed it not, I told some of it, and eight days after the news came that he was dead, or rather began to live for ever. Behold here his austerity endeth with so great glory, he seemed to comfort me more than when he was in this world. Our Lord told me once, that nothing should be asked in his name which he would not hear. I have seen many things fulfilled, which I have desired him to ask of our Lord; he be blessed for ever. Amen." And in the thirtieth chapter of her life, she sayeth as follows: " Our Lord vouchsafed to remedy a great part of my trouble, and for that time the whole, by bringing to this place the Blessed Father Peter of Alcantara, of whom I have already made mention, and spoken something of his penance; for amongst other things, I was certified, that for twenty years he had worn a cilice of plate continually. He is the author of certain little books of prayer, which are now much used in the Spanish tongue, for as one that hath exercised it well, he wrote very profitably, giving most excellent rules to those who addicted ​themselves to prayer. He observed the first rule of St. Francis with all rigor, and other things which I have related before." Thus she, and so much shall suffice to speak of, but part of his rigorous penance, it was his fervent zeal, and love of God, not strength of body, which made this crabbed way of penance easy to his heroic spirit; whose example may (though not in so great a measure as he did,) justly move us to shake off that old and self-love excuse of ours, in saying, our bodies are weak, when alas! our wills are frozen, and so nice, that we are afraid to expose our body but to a poor trial. The heathen Seneca will check our indevotion, who saith: "Not because certain things are hard, therefore we dare not do them, but because we dare not do them, therefore they are hard."