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Life and perfection, if far from opposites, by their very nature lack affinity. True perfection is both inanimate and inert; once life and movement manifest themselves, perfection suffers. Even so, certain man‐made commodities aim commendably at perfection: literature, painting, music, works of architecture — a line drawn at 90° to abase is a work of perfection. But, as it metamorphosises into a thing of beauty and function such as a Nash terrace or Wren church, utter perfection is lost. On another plane, a cricket‐bat, before being eagerly grabbed by man, possesses elements of perfection. It is only when employed in the hope of creating a great sporting performance, its intrinsic strength gives way to mans weakness. So it is with one of mans greatest status symbols — the automobile.

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