When I was a small child someone for whom I had a great respect told me never to do anything that Our Lady would not do; for, she said, if I did, the angels in heaven would blush. For a short time this advice “took” in me like an inoculation, causing a positive paralysis of piety. It was clear to me that all those things which spelt joy to me were from henceforward taboo—blacking my face with burnt cork, turning somersaults between props against the garden wall, putting two bull’s-eyes into my mouth at the same time—all that was over! But even if I faced a blank future shackled with
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