message from the immortals

Driving to Dublin in the bleak midwinter.
The ghost of CS Lewis appears beside me in the passenger seat.
"You know Heelers," he says, "some of us who seem quite nice people may, in fact, have made so little use of a good heredity and a good upbringing that we are really worse than those we regard as fiends."
I drove on in silence.
"You mean my attitude to the Arab and Muslim terrorists, don't you?" sez I presently.
"I do," sez he.