Page 186 - a-portrait-of-the-artist-as-a-young-man

those of dung or tar, or the odours of his own person among
which he had made many curious comparisons and exper-
iments. He found in the end that the only odour against
which his sense of smell revolted was a certain stale fishy
stink like that of long-standing urine; and whenever it was
possible he subjected himself to this unpleasant odour. To
mortify the taste he practised strict habits at table, observed
to the letter all the fasts of the church and sought by distrac-
tion to divert his mind from the savours of different foods.
But it was to the mortification of touch he brought the most
assiduous ingenuity of inventiveness. He never consciously
changed his position in bed, sat in the most uncomfort-
able positions, suffered patiently every itch and pain, kept
away from the fire, remained on his knees all through the
mass except at the gospels, left part of his neck and face un-
dried so that air might sting them and, whenever he was not
saying his beads, carried his arms stiffly at his sides like a
runner and never in his pockets or clasped behind him.
He had no temptations to sin mortally. It surprised
him however to find that at the end of his course of intri-
cate piety and self-restraint he was so easily at the mercy of
childish and unworthy imperfections. His prayers and fasts
availed him little for the suppression of anger at hearing
his mother sneeze or at being disturbed in his devotions. It
needed an immense effort of his will to master the impulse
which urged him to give outlet to such irritation. Images
of the outbursts of trivial anger which he had often noted
among his masters, their twitching mouths, close-shut lips
and flushed cheeks, recurred to his memory, discouraging

186 A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man