In the castle of her father, Eleonora was taught, by priests and nuns, that God was only acceptably worshiped by self-sacrifice and mortification.  The devout child longed for the love of God more than for any thing else.  Guided by the teachings of those who, however sincere, certainly misunderstood the spirit of the gospel, she deprived herself of every innocent gratification, and practiced upon her fragile frame all the severities of an anchorite.  She had been taught that celibacy was a virtue peculiarly acceptable to God, and resolutely declined all solicitations for her hand.

The emperor, after the death of his first wife, sought Eleonora as his bride.  It was the most brilliant match Europe could offer.  Eleonora, from religious scruples, rejected the offer, notwithstanding all the importunities of her parents, who could not feel reconciled to the loss of so splendid an alliance.  The devout maiden, in the conflict, exposed herself, bonnet-less, to sun and wind, that she might render herself unattractive, tanned, sun burnt, and freckled, so that the emperor might not desire her.  She succeeded in repelling the suit, and the emperor married Claudia of the Tyrol.  The court of the Elector Palatine was brilliant in opulence and gayety.  Eleonora was compelled to mingle with the festive throng in the scenes of pomp and splendor; but her thoughts, her affections, were elsewhere, and all the vanities of princely life had no influence in leading her heart from God.  She passed several hours, every day, in devotional reading and prayer.  She kept a very careful register of her thoughts and actions, scrutinizing and condemning with unsparing severity every questionable emotion.  Every sick bed of the poor peasants around, she visited with sympathy and as a tender nurse.  She groped her way into the glooms of prison dungeons to convey solace to the prisoner.  She wrought ornaments for the Church, and toiled, even to weariness and exhaustion, in making garments for the poor.

Claudia in three years died, and the emperor again was left a widower.  Again he applied for the hand of Eleonora.  Her spiritual advisers now urged that it was clearly the will of God that she should fill the first throne of the universe, as the patroness and protectress of the Catholic church.  For such an object she would have been willing to sweep the streets or to die in a dungeon.  Yielding to these persuasions she married the emperor, and was conveyed, as in a triumphal march, to the gorgeous palaces of Vienna.  But her character and her mode of life were not changed.  Though she sat at the imperial table, which was loaded with every conceivable luxury, she condemned herself to fare as humble and abstemious as could be found in the hut of the most impoverished peasant.  It was needful for her at times to appear in the rich garb of an empress, but to prevent any possible indulgence of pride, she had her bracelets and jewelry so arranged with sharp brads as to keep her in continued suffering by the laceration of the flesh.