He will perceive that it was no more than the spark shot out from the clash of those two meeting forces; and penitently will he gaze back on that misleading spark-the spectral planet it bids wink to his unreceptive stars--acknowledging him the bare machine for those two to drive, no instrument of enjoyment.

He lives by reading rearward and seeing vanward.

He has no actual life save in power of imagination.

He has to learn this fact, the great lesson of all men.

Furthermore there may be a future closed to him if he has thrown too extreme a task of repairing on that bare machine of his.