diff --git "a/the_time_machine_hgwells.txt" "b/the_time_machine_hgwells.txt" new file mode 100644--- /dev/null +++ "b/the_time_machine_hgwells.txt" @@ -0,0 +1,3140 @@ +The Time Traveller (for so it will be convenient to speak of him) was +expounding a recondite matter to us. His pale grey eyes shone and +twinkled, and his usually pale face was flushed and animated. The fire +burnt brightly, and the soft radiance of the incandescent lights in the +lilies of silver caught the bubbles that flashed and passed in our +glasses. Our chairs, being his patents, embraced and caressed us rather +than submitted to be sat upon, and there was that luxurious +after-dinner atmosphere, when thought runs gracefully free of the +trammels of precision. And he put it to us in this way—marking the +points with a lean forefinger—as we sat and lazily admired his +earnestness over this new paradox (as we thought it) and his fecundity. + +“You must follow me carefully. I shall have to controvert one or two +ideas that are almost universally accepted. The geometry, for instance, +they taught you at school is founded on a misconception.” + +“Is not that rather a large thing to expect us to begin upon?” said +Filby, an argumentative person with red hair. + +“I do not mean to ask you to accept anything without reasonable ground +for it. You will soon admit as much as I need from you. You know of +course that a mathematical line, a line of thickness _nil_, has no real +existence. They taught you that? Neither has a mathematical plane. +These things are mere abstractions.” + +“That is all right,” said the Psychologist. + +“Nor, having only length, breadth, and thickness, can a cube have a +real existence.” + +“There I object,” said Filby. “Of course a solid body may exist. All +real things—” + +“So most people think. But wait a moment. Can an _instantaneous_ cube +exist?” + +“Don’t follow you,” said Filby. + +“Can a cube that does not last for any time at all, have a real +existence?” + +Filby became pensive. “Clearly,” the Time Traveller proceeded, “any +real body must have extension in _four_ directions: it must have +Length, Breadth, Thickness, and—Duration. But through a natural +infirmity of the flesh, which I will explain to you in a moment, we +incline to overlook this fact. There are really four dimensions, three +which we call the three planes of Space, and a fourth, Time. There is, +however, a tendency to draw an unreal distinction between the former +three dimensions and the latter, because it happens that our +consciousness moves intermittently in one direction along the latter +from the beginning to the end of our lives.” + +“That,” said a very young man, making spasmodic efforts to relight his +cigar over the lamp; “that . . . very clear indeed.” + +“Now, it is very remarkable that this is so extensively overlooked,” +continued the Time Traveller, with a slight accession of cheerfulness. +“Really this is what is meant by the Fourth Dimension, though some +people who talk about the Fourth Dimension do not know they mean it. It +is only another way of looking at Time. _There is no difference between +Time and any of the three dimensions of Space except that our +consciousness moves along it_. But some foolish people have got hold of +the wrong side of that idea. You have all heard what they have to say +about this Fourth Dimension?” + +“_I_ have not,” said the Provincial Mayor. + +“It is simply this. That Space, as our mathematicians have it, is +spoken of as having three dimensions, which one may call Length, +Breadth, and Thickness, and is always definable by reference to three +planes, each at right angles to the others. But some philosophical +people have been asking why _three_ dimensions particularly—why not +another direction at right angles to the other three?—and have even +tried to construct a Four-Dimensional geometry. Professor Simon Newcomb +was expounding this to the New York Mathematical Society only a month +or so ago. You know how on a flat surface, which has only two +dimensions, we can represent a figure of a three-dimensional solid, and +similarly they think that by models of three dimensions they could +represent one of four—if they could master the perspective of the +thing. See?” + +“I think so,” murmured the Provincial Mayor; and, knitting his brows, +he lapsed into an introspective state, his lips moving as one who +repeats mystic words. “Yes, I think I see it now,” he said after some +time, brightening in a quite transitory manner. + +“Well, I do not mind telling you I have been at work upon this geometry +of Four Dimensions for some time. Some of my results are curious. For +instance, here is a portrait of a man at eight years old, another at +fifteen, another at seventeen, another at twenty-three, and so on. All +these are evidently sections, as it were, Three-Dimensional +representations of his Four-Dimensioned being, which is a fixed and +unalterable thing. + +“Scientific people,” proceeded the Time Traveller, after the pause +required for the proper assimilation of this, “know very well that Time +is only a kind of Space. Here is a popular scientific diagram, a +weather record. This line I trace with my finger shows the movement of +the barometer. Yesterday it was so high, yesterday night it fell, then +this morning it rose again, and so gently upward to here. Surely the +mercury did not trace this line in any of the dimensions of Space +generally recognised? But certainly it traced such a line, and that +line, therefore, we must conclude, was along the Time-Dimension.” + +“But,” said the Medical Man, staring hard at a coal in the fire, “if +Time is really only a fourth dimension of Space, why is it, and why has +it always been, regarded as something different? And why cannot we move +in Time as we move about in the other dimensions of Space?” + +The Time Traveller smiled. “Are you so sure we can move freely in +Space? Right and left we can go, backward and forward freely enough, +and men always have done so. I admit we move freely in two dimensions. +But how about up and down? Gravitation limits us there.” + +“Not exactly,” said the Medical Man. “There are balloons.” + +“But before the balloons, save for spasmodic jumping and the +inequalities of the surface, man had no freedom of vertical movement.” + +“Still they could move a little up and down,” said the Medical Man. + +“Easier, far easier down than up.” + +“And you cannot move at all in Time, you cannot get away from the +present moment.” + +“My dear sir, that is just where you are wrong. That is just where the +whole world has gone wrong. We are always getting away from the present +moment. Our mental existences, which are immaterial and have no +dimensions, are passing along the Time-Dimension with a uniform +velocity from the cradle to the grave. Just as we should travel _down_ +if we began our existence fifty miles above the earth’s surface.” + +“But the great difficulty is this,” interrupted the Psychologist. ’You +_can_ move about in all directions of Space, but you cannot move about +in Time.” + +“That is the germ of my great discovery. But you are wrong to say that +we cannot move about in Time. For instance, if I am recalling an +incident very vividly I go back to the instant of its occurrence: I +become absent-minded, as you say. I jump back for a moment. Of course +we have no means of staying back for any length of Time, any more than +a savage or an animal has of staying six feet above the ground. But a +civilised man is better off than the savage in this respect. He can go +up against gravitation in a balloon, and why should he not hope that +ultimately he may be able to stop or accelerate his drift along the +Time-Dimension, or even turn about and travel the other way?” + +“Oh, _this_,” began Filby, “is all—” + +“Why not?” said the Time Traveller. + +“It’s against reason,” said Filby. + +“What reason?” said the Time Traveller. + +“You can show black is white by argument,” said Filby, “but you will +never convince me.” + +“Possibly not,” said the Time Traveller. “But now you begin to see the +object of my investigations into the geometry of Four Dimensions. Long +ago I had a vague inkling of a machine—” + +“To travel through Time!” exclaimed the Very Young Man. + +“That shall travel indifferently in any direction of Space and Time, as +the driver determines.” + +Filby contented himself with laughter. + +“But I have experimental verification,” said the Time Traveller. + +“It would be remarkably convenient for the historian,” the Psychologist +suggested. “One might travel back and verify the accepted account of +the Battle of Hastings, for instance!” + +“Don’t you think you would attract attention?” said the Medical Man. +“Our ancestors had no great tolerance for anachronisms.” + +“One might get one’s Greek from the very lips of Homer and Plato,” the +Very Young Man thought. + +“In which case they would certainly plough you for the Little-go. The +German scholars have improved Greek so much.” + +“Then there is the future,” said the Very Young Man. “Just think! One +might invest all one’s money, leave it to accumulate at interest, and +hurry on ahead!” + +“To discover a society,” said I, “erected on a strictly communistic +basis.” + +“Of all the wild extravagant theories!” began the Psychologist. + +“Yes, so it seemed to me, and so I never talked of it until—” + +“Experimental verification!” cried I. “You are going to verify _that_?” + +“The experiment!” cried Filby, who was getting brain-weary. + +“Let’s see your experiment anyhow,” said the Psychologist, “though it’s +all humbug, you know.” + +The Time Traveller smiled round at us. Then, still smiling faintly, and +with his hands deep in his trousers pockets, he walked slowly out of +the room, and we heard his slippers shuffling down the long passage to +his laboratory. + +The Psychologist looked at us. “I wonder what he’s got?” + +“Some sleight-of-hand trick or other,” said the Medical Man, and Filby +tried to tell us about a conjuror he had seen at Burslem, but before he +had finished his preface the Time Traveller came back, and Filby’s +anecdote collapsed. + + + + + II. + The Machine + + +The thing the Time Traveller held in his hand was a glittering metallic +framework, scarcely larger than a small clock, and very delicately +made. There was ivory in it, and some transparent crystalline +substance. And now I must be explicit, for this that follows—unless his +explanation is to be accepted—is an absolutely unaccountable thing. He +took one of the small octagonal tables that were scattered about the +room, and set it in front of the fire, with two legs on the hearthrug. +On this table he placed the mechanism. Then he drew up a chair, and sat +down. The only other object on the table was a small shaded lamp, the +bright light of which fell upon the model. There were also perhaps a +dozen candles about, two in brass candlesticks upon the mantel and +several in sconces, so that the room was brilliantly illuminated. I sat +in a low arm-chair nearest the fire, and I drew this forward so as to +be almost between the Time Traveller and the fireplace. Filby sat +behind him, looking over his shoulder. The Medical Man and the +Provincial Mayor watched him in profile from the right, the +Psychologist from the left. The Very Young Man stood behind the +Psychologist. We were all on the alert. It appears incredible to me +that any kind of trick, however subtly conceived and however adroitly +done, could have been played upon us under these conditions. + +The Time Traveller looked at us, and then at the mechanism. “Well?” +said the Psychologist. + +“This little affair,” said the Time Traveller, resting his elbows upon +the table and pressing his hands together above the apparatus, “is only +a model. It is my plan for a machine to travel through time. You will +notice that it looks singularly askew, and that there is an odd +twinkling appearance about this bar, as though it was in some way +unreal.” He pointed to the part with his finger. “Also, here is one +little white lever, and here is another.” + +The Medical Man got up out of his chair and peered into the thing. +“It’s beautifully made,” he said. + +“It took two years to make,” retorted the Time Traveller. Then, when we +had all imitated the action of the Medical Man, he said: “Now I want +you clearly to understand that this lever, being pressed over, sends +the machine gliding into the future, and this other reverses the +motion. This saddle represents the seat of a time traveller. Presently +I am going to press the lever, and off the machine will go. It will +vanish, pass into future Time, and disappear. Have a good look at the +thing. Look at the table too, and satisfy yourselves there is no +trickery. I don’t want to waste this model, and then be told I’m a +quack.” + +There was a minute’s pause perhaps. The Psychologist seemed about to +speak to me, but changed his mind. Then the Time Traveller put forth +his finger towards the lever. “No,” he said suddenly. “Lend me your +hand.” And turning to the Psychologist, he took that individual’s hand +in his own and told him to put out his forefinger. So that it was the +Psychologist himself who sent forth the model Time Machine on its +interminable voyage. We all saw the lever turn. I am absolutely certain +there was no trickery. There was a breath of wind, and the lamp flame +jumped. One of the candles on the mantel was blown out, and the little +machine suddenly swung round, became indistinct, was seen as a ghost +for a second perhaps, as an eddy of faintly glittering brass and ivory; +and it was gone—vanished! Save for the lamp the table was bare. + +Everyone was silent for a minute. Then Filby said he was damned. + +The Psychologist recovered from his stupor, and suddenly looked under +the table. At that the Time Traveller laughed cheerfully. “Well?” he +said, with a reminiscence of the Psychologist. Then, getting up, he +went to the tobacco jar on the mantel, and with his back to us began to +fill his pipe. + +We stared at each other. “Look here,” said the Medical Man, “are you in +earnest about this? Do you seriously believe that that machine has +travelled into time?” + +“Certainly,” said the Time Traveller, stooping to light a spill at the +fire. Then he turned, lighting his pipe, to look at the Psychologist’s +face. (The Psychologist, to show that he was not unhinged, helped +himself to a cigar and tried to light it uncut.) “What is more, I have +a big machine nearly finished in there”—he indicated the +laboratory—“and when that is put together I mean to have a journey on +my own account.” + +“You mean to say that that machine has travelled into the future?” said +Filby. + +“Into the future or the past—I don’t, for certain, know which.” + +After an interval the Psychologist had an inspiration. “It must have +gone into the past if it has gone anywhere,” he said. + +“Why?” said the Time Traveller. + +“Because I presume that it has not moved in space, and if it travelled +into the future it would still be here all this time, since it must +have travelled through this time.” + +“But,” said I, “If it travelled into the past it would have been +visible when we came first into this room; and last Thursday when we +were here; and the Thursday before that; and so forth!” + +“Serious objections,” remarked the Provincial Mayor, with an air of +impartiality, turning towards the Time Traveller. + +“Not a bit,” said the Time Traveller, and, to the Psychologist: “You +think. _You_ can explain that. It’s presentation below the threshold, +you know, diluted presentation.” + +“Of course,” said the Psychologist, and reassured us. “That’s a simple +point of psychology. I should have thought of it. It’s plain enough, +and helps the paradox delightfully. We cannot see it, nor can we +appreciate this machine, any more than we can the spoke of a wheel +spinning, or a bullet flying through the air. If it is travelling +through time fifty times or a hundred times faster than we are, if it +gets through a minute while we get through a second, the impression it +creates will of course be only one-fiftieth or one-hundredth of what it +would make if it were not travelling in time. That’s plain enough.” He +passed his hand through the space in which the machine had been. “You +see?” he said, laughing. + +We sat and stared at the vacant table for a minute or so. Then the Time +Traveller asked us what we thought of it all. + +“It sounds plausible enough tonight,” said the Medical Man; “but wait +until tomorrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning.” + +“Would you like to see the Time Machine itself?” asked the Time +Traveller. And therewith, taking the lamp in his hand, he led the way +down the long, draughty corridor to his laboratory. I remember vividly +the flickering light, his queer, broad head in silhouette, the dance of +the shadows, how we all followed him, puzzled but incredulous, and how +there in the laboratory we beheld a larger edition of the little +mechanism which we had seen vanish from before our eyes. Parts were of +nickel, parts of ivory, parts had certainly been filed or sawn out of +rock crystal. The thing was generally complete, but the twisted +crystalline bars lay unfinished upon the bench beside some sheets of +drawings, and I took one up for a better look at it. Quartz it seemed +to be. + +“Look here,” said the Medical Man, “are you perfectly serious? Or is +this a trick—like that ghost you showed us last Christmas?” + +“Upon that machine,” said the Time Traveller, holding the lamp aloft, +“I intend to explore time. Is that plain? I was never more serious in +my life.” + +None of us quite knew how to take it. + +I caught Filby’s eye over the shoulder of the Medical Man, and he +winked at me solemnly. + + + + + III. + The Time Traveller Returns + + +I think that at that time none of us quite believed in the Time +Machine. The fact is, the Time Traveller was one of those men who are +too clever to be believed: you never felt that you saw all round him; +you always suspected some subtle reserve, some ingenuity in ambush, +behind his lucid frankness. Had Filby shown the model and explained the +matter in the Time Traveller’s words, we should have shown _him_ far +less scepticism. For we should have perceived his motives: a +pork-butcher could understand Filby. But the Time Traveller had more +than a touch of whim among his elements, and we distrusted him. Things +that would have made the fame of a less clever man seemed tricks in his +hands. It is a mistake to do things too easily. The serious people who +took him seriously never felt quite sure of his deportment; they were +somehow aware that trusting their reputations for judgment with him was +like furnishing a nursery with eggshell china. So I don’t think any of +us said very much about time travelling in the interval between that +Thursday and the next, though its odd potentialities ran, no doubt, in +most of our minds: its plausibility, that is, its practical +incredibleness, the curious possibilities of anachronism and of utter +confusion it suggested. For my own part, I was particularly preoccupied +with the trick of the model. That I remember discussing with the +Medical Man, whom I met on Friday at the Linnæan. He said he had seen a +similar thing at Tübingen, and laid considerable stress on the +blowing-out of the candle. But how the trick was done he could not +explain. + +The next Thursday I went again to Richmond—I suppose I was one of the +Time Traveller’s most constant guests—and, arriving late, found four or +five men already assembled in his drawing-room. The Medical Man was +standing before the fire with a sheet of paper in one hand and his +watch in the other. I looked round for the Time Traveller, and—“It’s +half-past seven now,” said the Medical Man. “I suppose we’d better have +dinner?” + +“Where’s——?” said I, naming our host. + +“You’ve just come? It’s rather odd. He’s unavoidably detained. He asks +me in this note to lead off with dinner at seven if he’s not back. Says +he’ll explain when he comes.” + +“It seems a pity to let the dinner spoil,” said the Editor of a +well-known daily paper; and thereupon the Doctor rang the bell. + +The Psychologist was the only person besides the Doctor and myself who +had attended the previous dinner. The other men were Blank, the Editor +aforementioned, a certain journalist, and another—a quiet, shy man with +a beard—whom I didn’t know, and who, as far as my observation went, +never opened his mouth all the evening. There was some speculation at +the dinner-table about the Time Traveller’s absence, and I suggested +time travelling, in a half-jocular spirit. The Editor wanted that +explained to him, and the Psychologist volunteered a wooden account of +the “ingenious paradox and trick” we had witnessed that day week. He +was in the midst of his exposition when the door from the corridor +opened slowly and without noise. I was facing the door, and saw it +first. “Hallo!” I said. “At last!” And the door opened wider, and the +Time Traveller stood before us. I gave a cry of surprise. “Good +heavens! man, what’s the matter?” cried the Medical Man, who saw him +next. And the whole tableful turned towards the door. + +He was in an amazing plight. His coat was dusty and dirty, and smeared +with green down the sleeves; his hair disordered, and as it seemed to +me greyer—either with dust and dirt or because its colour had actually +faded. His face was ghastly pale; his chin had a brown cut on it—a cut +half-healed; his expression was haggard and drawn, as by intense +suffering. For a moment he hesitated in the doorway, as if he had been +dazzled by the light. Then he came into the room. He walked with just +such a limp as I have seen in footsore tramps. We stared at him in +silence, expecting him to speak. + +He said not a word, but came painfully to the table, and made a motion +towards the wine. The Editor filled a glass of champagne, and pushed it +towards him. He drained it, and it seemed to do him good: for he looked +round the table, and the ghost of his old smile flickered across his +face. “What on earth have you been up to, man?” said the Doctor. The +Time Traveller did not seem to hear. “Don’t let me disturb you,” he +said, with a certain faltering articulation. “I’m all right.” He +stopped, held out his glass for more, and took it off at a draught. +“That’s good,” he said. His eyes grew brighter, and a faint colour came +into his cheeks. His glance flickered over our faces with a certain +dull approval, and then went round the warm and comfortable room. Then +he spoke again, still as it were feeling his way among his words. “I’m +going to wash and dress, and then I’ll come down and explain things.... +Save me some of that mutton. I’m starving for a bit of meat.” + +He looked across at the Editor, who was a rare visitor, and hoped he +was all right. The Editor began a question. “Tell you presently,” said +the Time Traveller. “I’m—funny! Be all right in a minute.” + +He put down his glass, and walked towards the staircase door. Again I +remarked his lameness and the soft padding sound of his footfall, and +standing up in my place, I saw his feet as he went out. He had nothing +on them but a pair of tattered, blood-stained socks. Then the door +closed upon him. I had half a mind to follow, till I remembered how he +detested any fuss about himself. For a minute, perhaps, my mind was +wool-gathering. Then, “Remarkable Behaviour of an Eminent Scientist,” I +heard the Editor say, thinking (after his wont) in headlines. And this +brought my attention back to the bright dinner-table. + +“What’s the game?” said the Journalist. “Has he been doing the Amateur +Cadger? I don’t follow.” I met the eye of the Psychologist, and read my +own interpretation in his face. I thought of the Time Traveller limping +painfully upstairs. I don’t think anyone else had noticed his lameness. + +The first to recover completely from this surprise was the Medical Man, +who rang the bell—the Time Traveller hated to have servants waiting at +dinner—for a hot plate. At that the Editor turned to his knife and fork +with a grunt, and the Silent Man followed suit. The dinner was resumed. +Conversation was exclamatory for a little while with gaps of +wonderment; and then the Editor got fervent in his curiosity. “Does our +friend eke out his modest income with a crossing? or has he his +Nebuchadnezzar phases?” he inquired. “I feel assured it’s this business +of the Time Machine,” I said, and took up the Psychologist’s account of +our previous meeting. The new guests were frankly incredulous. The +Editor raised objections. “What _was_ this time travelling? A man +couldn’t cover himself with dust by rolling in a paradox, could he?” +And then, as the idea came home to him, he resorted to caricature. +Hadn’t they any clothes-brushes in the Future? The Journalist too, +would not believe at any price, and joined the Editor in the easy work +of heaping ridicule on the whole thing. They were both the new kind of +journalist—very joyous, irreverent young men. “Our Special +Correspondent in the Day after Tomorrow reports,” the Journalist was +saying—or rather shouting—when the Time Traveller came back. He was +dressed in ordinary evening clothes, and nothing save his haggard look +remained of the change that had startled me. + +“I say,” said the Editor hilariously, “these chaps here say you have +been travelling into the middle of next week! Tell us all about little +Rosebery, will you? What will you take for the lot?” + +The Time Traveller came to the place reserved for him without a word. +He smiled quietly, in his old way. “Where’s my mutton?” he said. “What +a treat it is to stick a fork into meat again!” + +“Story!” cried the Editor. + +“Story be damned!” said the Time Traveller. “I want something to eat. I +won’t say a word until I get some peptone into my arteries. Thanks. And +the salt.” + +“One word,” said I. “Have you been time travelling?” + +“Yes,” said the Time Traveller, with his mouth full, nodding his head. + +“I’d give a shilling a line for a verbatim note,” said the Editor. The +Time Traveller pushed his glass towards the Silent Man and rang it with +his fingernail; at which the Silent Man, who had been staring at his +face, started convulsively, and poured him wine. The rest of the dinner +was uncomfortable. For my own part, sudden questions kept on rising to +my lips, and I dare say it was the same with the others. The Journalist +tried to relieve the tension by telling anecdotes of Hettie Potter. The +Time Traveller devoted his attention to his dinner, and displayed the +appetite of a tramp. The Medical Man smoked a cigarette, and watched +the Time Traveller through his eyelashes. The Silent Man seemed even +more clumsy than usual, and drank champagne with regularity and +determination out of sheer nervousness. At last the Time Traveller +pushed his plate away, and looked round us. “I suppose I must +apologise,” he said. “I was simply starving. I’ve had a most amazing +time.” He reached out his hand for a cigar, and cut the end. “But come +into the smoking-room. It’s too long a story to tell over greasy +plates.” And ringing the bell in passing, he led the way into the +adjoining room. + +“You have told Blank, and Dash, and Chose about the machine?” he said +to me, leaning back in his easy-chair and naming the three new guests. + +“But the thing’s a mere paradox,” said the Editor. + +“I can’t argue tonight. I don’t mind telling you the story, but I can’t +argue. I will,” he went on, “tell you the story of what has happened to +me, if you like, but you must refrain from interruptions. I want to +tell it. Badly. Most of it will sound like lying. So be it! It’s +true—every word of it, all the same. I was in my laboratory at four +o’clock, and since then … I’ve lived eight days … such days as no human +being ever lived before! I’m nearly worn out, but I shan’t sleep till +I’ve told this thing over to you. Then I shall go to bed. But no +interruptions! Is it agreed?” + +“Agreed,” said the Editor, and the rest of us echoed “Agreed.” And with +that the Time Traveller began his story as I have set it forth. He sat +back in his chair at first, and spoke like a weary man. Afterwards he +got more animated. In writing it down I feel with only too much +keenness the inadequacy of pen and ink—and, above all, my own +inadequacy—to express its quality. You read, I will suppose, +attentively enough; but you cannot see the speaker’s white, sincere +face in the bright circle of the little lamp, nor hear the intonation +of his voice. You cannot know how his expression followed the turns of +his story! Most of us hearers were in shadow, for the candles in the +smoking-room had not been lighted, and only the face of the Journalist +and the legs of the Silent Man from the knees downward were +illuminated. At first we glanced now and again at each other. After a +time we ceased to do that, and looked only at the Time Traveller’s +face. + + + + + IV. + Time Travelling + + +“I told some of you last Thursday of the principles of the Time +Machine, and showed you the actual thing itself, incomplete in the +workshop. There it is now, a little travel-worn, truly; and one of the +ivory bars is cracked, and a brass rail bent; but the rest of it’s +sound enough. I expected to finish it on Friday; but on Friday, when +the putting together was nearly done, I found that one of the nickel +bars was exactly one inch too short, and this I had to get remade; so +that the thing was not complete until this morning. It was at ten +o’clock today that the first of all Time Machines began its career. I +gave it a last tap, tried all the screws again, put one more drop of +oil on the quartz rod, and sat myself in the saddle. I suppose a +suicide who holds a pistol to his skull feels much the same wonder at +what will come next as I felt then. I took the starting lever in one +hand and the stopping one in the other, pressed the first, and almost +immediately the second. I seemed to reel; I felt a nightmare sensation +of falling; and, looking round, I saw the laboratory exactly as before. +Had anything happened? For a moment I suspected that my intellect had +tricked me. Then I noted the clock. A moment before, as it seemed, it +had stood at a minute or so past ten; now it was nearly half-past +three! + +“I drew a breath, set my teeth, gripped the starting lever with both +hands, and went off with a thud. The laboratory got hazy and went dark. +Mrs. Watchett came in and walked, apparently without seeing me, towards +the garden door. I suppose it took her a minute or so to traverse the +place, but to me she seemed to shoot across the room like a rocket. I +pressed the lever over to its extreme position. The night came like the +turning out of a lamp, and in another moment came tomorrow. The +laboratory grew faint and hazy, then fainter and ever fainter. Tomorrow +night came black, then day again, night again, day again, faster and +faster still. An eddying murmur filled my ears, and a strange, dumb +confusedness descended on my mind. + +“I am afraid I cannot convey the peculiar sensations of time +travelling. They are excessively unpleasant. There is a feeling exactly +like that one has upon a switchback—of a helpless headlong motion! I +felt the same horrible anticipation, too, of an imminent smash. As I +put on pace, night followed day like the flapping of a black wing. The +dim suggestion of the laboratory seemed presently to fall away from me, +and I saw the sun hopping swiftly across the sky, leaping it every +minute, and every minute marking a day. I supposed the laboratory had +been destroyed and I had come into the open air. I had a dim impression +of scaffolding, but I was already going too fast to be conscious of any +moving things. The slowest snail that ever crawled dashed by too fast +for me. The twinkling succession of darkness and light was excessively +painful to the eye. Then, in the intermittent darknesses, I saw the +moon spinning swiftly through her quarters from new to full, and had a +faint glimpse of the circling stars. Presently, as I went on, still +gaining velocity, the palpitation of night and day merged into one +continuous greyness; the sky took on a wonderful deepness of blue, a +splendid luminous colour like that of early twilight; the jerking sun +became a streak of fire, a brilliant arch, in space; the moon a fainter +fluctuating band; and I could see nothing of the stars, save now and +then a brighter circle flickering in the blue. + +“The landscape was misty and vague. I was still on the hillside upon +which this house now stands, and the shoulder rose above me grey and +dim. I saw trees growing and changing like puffs of vapour, now brown, +now green; they grew, spread, shivered, and passed away. I saw huge +buildings rise up faint and fair, and pass like dreams. The whole +surface of the earth seemed changed—melting and flowing under my eyes. +The little hands upon the dials that registered my speed raced round +faster and faster. Presently I noted that the sun belt swayed up and +down, from solstice to solstice, in a minute or less, and that +consequently my pace was over a year a minute; and minute by minute the +white snow flashed across the world, and vanished, and was followed by +the bright, brief green of spring. + +“The unpleasant sensations of the start were less poignant now. They +merged at last into a kind of hysterical exhilaration. I remarked, +indeed, a clumsy swaying of the machine, for which I was unable to +account. But my mind was too confused to attend to it, so with a kind +of madness growing upon me, I flung myself into futurity. At first I +scarce thought of stopping, scarce thought of anything but these new +sensations. But presently a fresh series of impressions grew up in my +mind—a certain curiosity and therewith a certain dread—until at last +they took complete possession of me. What strange developments of +humanity, what wonderful advances upon our rudimentary civilisation, I +thought, might not appear when I came to look nearly into the dim +elusive world that raced and fluctuated before my eyes! I saw great and +splendid architecture rising about me, more massive than any buildings +of our own time, and yet, as it seemed, built of glimmer and mist. I +saw a richer green flow up the hillside, and remain there, without any +wintry intermission. Even through the veil of my confusion the earth +seemed very fair. And so my mind came round to the business of +stopping. + +“The peculiar risk lay in the possibility of my finding some substance +in the space which I, or the machine, occupied. So long as I travelled +at a high velocity through time, this scarcely mattered: I was, so to +speak, attenuated—was slipping like a vapour through the interstices of +intervening substances! But to come to a stop involved the jamming of +myself, molecule by molecule, into whatever lay in my way; meant +bringing my atoms into such intimate contact with those of the obstacle +that a profound chemical reaction—possibly a far-reaching +explosion—would result, and blow myself and my apparatus out of all +possible dimensions—into the Unknown. This possibility had occurred to +me again and again while I was making the machine; but then I had +cheerfully accepted it as an unavoidable risk—one of the risks a man +has got to take! Now the risk was inevitable, I no longer saw it in the +same cheerful light. The fact is that, insensibly, the absolute +strangeness of everything, the sickly jarring and swaying of the +machine, above all, the feeling of prolonged falling, had absolutely +upset my nerves. I told myself that I could never stop, and with a gust +of petulance I resolved to stop forthwith. Like an impatient fool, I +lugged over the lever, and incontinently the thing went reeling over, +and I was flung headlong through the air. + +“There was the sound of a clap of thunder in my ears. I may have been +stunned for a moment. A pitiless hail was hissing round me, and I was +sitting on soft turf in front of the overset machine. Everything still +seemed grey, but presently I remarked that the confusion in my ears was +gone. I looked round me. I was on what seemed to be a little lawn in a +garden, surrounded by rhododendron bushes, and I noticed that their +mauve and purple blossoms were dropping in a shower under the beating +of the hailstones. The rebounding, dancing hail hung in a little cloud +over the machine, and drove along the ground like smoke. In a moment I +was wet to the skin. ‘Fine hospitality,’ said I, ‘to a man who has +travelled innumerable years to see you.’ + +“Presently I thought what a fool I was to get wet. I stood up and +looked round me. A colossal figure, carved apparently in some white +stone, loomed indistinctly beyond the rhododendrons through the hazy +downpour. But all else of the world was invisible. + +“My sensations would be hard to describe. As the columns of hail grew +thinner, I saw the white figure more distinctly. It was very large, for +a silver birch-tree touched its shoulder. It was of white marble, in +shape something like a winged sphinx, but the wings, instead of being +carried vertically at the sides, were spread so that it seemed to +hover. The pedestal, it appeared to me, was of bronze, and was thick +with verdigris. It chanced that the face was towards me; the sightless +eyes seemed to watch me; there was the faint shadow of a smile on the +lips. It was greatly weather-worn, and that imparted an unpleasant +suggestion of disease. I stood looking at it for a little space—half a +minute, perhaps, or half an hour. It seemed to advance and to recede as +the hail drove before it denser or thinner. At last I tore my eyes from +it for a moment, and saw that the hail curtain had worn threadbare, and +that the sky was lightening with the promise of the sun. + +“I looked up again at the crouching white shape, and the full temerity +of my voyage came suddenly upon me. What might appear when that hazy +curtain was altogether withdrawn? What might not have happened to men? +What if cruelty had grown into a common passion? What if in this +interval the race had lost its manliness, and had developed into +something inhuman, unsympathetic, and overwhelmingly powerful? I might +seem some old-world savage animal, only the more dreadful and +disgusting for our common likeness—a foul creature to be incontinently +slain. + +“Already I saw other vast shapes—huge buildings with intricate parapets +and tall columns, with a wooded hillside dimly creeping in upon me +through the lessening storm. I was seized with a panic fear. I turned +frantically to the Time Machine, and strove hard to readjust it. As I +did so the shafts of the sun smote through the thunderstorm. The grey +downpour was swept aside and vanished like the trailing garments of a +ghost. Above me, in the intense blue of the summer sky, some faint +brown shreds of cloud whirled into nothingness. The great buildings +about me stood out clear and distinct, shining with the wet of the +thunderstorm, and picked out in white by the unmelted hailstones piled +along their courses. I felt naked in a strange world. I felt as perhaps +a bird may feel in the clear air, knowing the hawk wings above and will +swoop. My fear grew to frenzy. I took a breathing space, set my teeth, +and again grappled fiercely, wrist and knee, with the machine. It gave +under my desperate onset and turned over. It struck my chin violently. +One hand on the saddle, the other on the lever, I stood panting heavily +in attitude to mount again. + +“But with this recovery of a prompt retreat my courage recovered. I +looked more curiously and less fearfully at this world of the remote +future. In a circular opening, high up in the wall of the nearer house, +I saw a group of figures clad in rich soft robes. They had seen me, and +their faces were directed towards me. + +“Then I heard voices approaching me. Coming through the bushes by the +White Sphinx were the heads and shoulders of men running. One of these +emerged in a pathway leading straight to the little lawn upon which I +stood with my machine. He was a slight creature—perhaps four feet +high—clad in a purple tunic, girdled at the waist with a leather belt. +Sandals or buskins—I could not clearly distinguish which—were on his +feet; his legs were bare to the knees, and his head was bare. Noticing +that, I noticed for the first time how warm the air was. + +“He struck me as being a very beautiful and graceful creature, but +indescribably frail. His flushed face reminded me of the more beautiful +kind of consumptive—that hectic beauty of which we used to hear so +much. At the sight of him I suddenly regained confidence. I took my +hands from the machine. + + + + + V. + In the Golden Age + + +“In another moment we were standing face to face, I and this fragile +thing out of futurity. He came straight up to me and laughed into my +eyes. The absence from his bearing of any sign of fear struck me at +once. Then he turned to the two others who were following him and spoke +to them in a strange and very sweet and liquid tongue. + +“There were others coming, and presently a little group of perhaps +eight or ten of these exquisite creatures were about me. One of them +addressed me. It came into my head, oddly enough, that my voice was too +harsh and deep for them. So I shook my head, and, pointing to my ears, +shook it again. He came a step forward, hesitated, and then touched my +hand. Then I felt other soft little tentacles upon my back and +shoulders. They wanted to make sure I was real. There was nothing in +this at all alarming. Indeed, there was something in these pretty +little people that inspired confidence—a graceful gentleness, a certain +childlike ease. And besides, they looked so frail that I could fancy +myself flinging the whole dozen of them about like ninepins. But I made +a sudden motion to warn them when I saw their little pink hands feeling +at the Time Machine. Happily then, when it was not too late, I thought +of a danger I had hitherto forgotten, and reaching over the bars of the +machine I unscrewed the little levers that would set it in motion, and +put these in my pocket. Then I turned again to see what I could do in +the way of communication. + +“And then, looking more nearly into their features, I saw some further +peculiarities in their Dresden china type of prettiness. Their hair, +which was uniformly curly, came to a sharp end at the neck and cheek; +there was not the faintest suggestion of it on the face, and their ears +were singularly minute. The mouths were small, with bright red, rather +thin lips, and the little chins ran to a point. The eyes were large and +mild; and—this may seem egotism on my part—I fancied even that there +was a certain lack of the interest I might have expected in them. + +“As they made no effort to communicate with me, but simply stood round +me smiling and speaking in soft cooing notes to each other, I began the +conversation. I pointed to the Time Machine and to myself. Then, +hesitating for a moment how to express Time, I pointed to the sun. At +once a quaintly pretty little figure in chequered purple and white +followed my gesture, and then astonished me by imitating the sound of +thunder. + +“For a moment I was staggered, though the import of his gesture was +plain enough. The question had come into my mind abruptly: were these +creatures fools? You may hardly understand how it took me. You see, I +had always anticipated that the people of the year Eight Hundred and +Two Thousand odd would be incredibly in front of us in knowledge, art, +everything. Then one of them suddenly asked me a question that showed +him to be on the intellectual level of one of our five-year-old +children—asked me, in fact, if I had come from the sun in a +thunderstorm! It let loose the judgment I had suspended upon their +clothes, their frail light limbs, and fragile features. A flow of +disappointment rushed across my mind. For a moment I felt that I had +built the Time Machine in vain. + +“I nodded, pointed to the sun, and gave them such a vivid rendering of +a thunderclap as startled them. They all withdrew a pace or so and +bowed. Then came one laughing towards me, carrying a chain of beautiful +flowers altogether new to me, and put it about my neck. The idea was +received with melodious applause; and presently they were all running +to and fro for flowers, and laughingly flinging them upon me until I +was almost smothered with blossom. You who have never seen the like can +scarcely imagine what delicate and wonderful flowers countless years of +culture had created. Then someone suggested that their plaything should +be exhibited in the nearest building, and so I was led past the sphinx +of white marble, which had seemed to watch me all the while with a +smile at my astonishment, towards a vast grey edifice of fretted stone. +As I went with them the memory of my confident anticipations of a +profoundly grave and intellectual posterity came, with irresistible +merriment, to my mind. + +“The building had a huge entry, and was altogether of colossal +dimensions. I was naturally most occupied with the growing crowd of +little people, and with the big open portals that yawned before me +shadowy and mysterious. My general impression of the world I saw over +their heads was a tangled waste of beautiful bushes and flowers, a long +neglected and yet weedless garden. I saw a number of tall spikes of +strange white flowers, measuring a foot perhaps across the spread of +the waxen petals. They grew scattered, as if wild, among the variegated +shrubs, but, as I say, I did not examine them closely at this time. The +Time Machine was left deserted on the turf among the rhododendrons. + +“The arch of the doorway was richly carved, but naturally I did not +observe the carving very narrowly, though I fancied I saw suggestions +of old Phœnician decorations as I passed through, and it struck me that +they were very badly broken and weather-worn. Several more brightly +clad people met me in the doorway, and so we entered, I, dressed in +dingy nineteenth-century garments, looking grotesque enough, garlanded +with flowers, and surrounded by an eddying mass of bright, +soft-coloured robes and shining white limbs, in a melodious whirl of +laughter and laughing speech. + +“The big doorway opened into a proportionately great hall hung with +brown. The roof was in shadow, and the windows, partially glazed with +coloured glass and partially unglazed, admitted a tempered light. The +floor was made up of huge blocks of some very hard white metal, not +plates nor slabs—blocks, and it was so much worn, as I judged by the +going to and fro of past generations, as to be deeply channelled along +the more frequented ways. Transverse to the length were innumerable +tables made of slabs of polished stone, raised, perhaps, a foot from +the floor, and upon these were heaps of fruits. Some I recognised as a +kind of hypertrophied raspberry and orange, but for the most part they +were strange. + +“Between the tables was scattered a great number of cushions. Upon +these my conductors seated themselves, signing for me to do likewise. +With a pretty absence of ceremony they began to eat the fruit with +their hands, flinging peel and stalks, and so forth, into the round +openings in the sides of the tables. I was not loath to follow their +example, for I felt thirsty and hungry. As I did so I surveyed the hall +at my leisure. + +“And perhaps the thing that struck me most was its dilapidated look. +The stained-glass windows, which displayed only a geometrical pattern, +were broken in many places, and the curtains that hung across the lower +end were thick with dust. And it caught my eye that the corner of the +marble table near me was fractured. Nevertheless, the general effect +was extremely rich and picturesque. There were, perhaps, a couple of +hundred people dining in the hall, and most of them, seated as near to +me as they could come, were watching me with interest, their little +eyes shining over the fruit they were eating. All were clad in the same +soft, and yet strong, silky material. + +“Fruit, by the bye, was all their diet. These people of the remote +future were strict vegetarians, and while I was with them, in spite of +some carnal cravings, I had to be frugivorous also. Indeed, I found +afterwards that horses, cattle, sheep, dogs, had followed the +Ichthyosaurus into extinction. But the fruits were very delightful; +one, in particular, that seemed to be in season all the time I was +there—a floury thing in a three-sided husk—was especially good, and I +made it my staple. At first I was puzzled by all these strange fruits, +and by the strange flowers I saw, but later I began to perceive their +import. + +“However, I am telling you of my fruit dinner in the distant future +now. So soon as my appetite was a little checked, I determined to make +a resolute attempt to learn the speech of these new men of mine. +Clearly that was the next thing to do. The fruits seemed a convenient +thing to begin upon, and holding one of these up I began a series of +interrogative sounds and gestures. I had some considerable difficulty +in conveying my meaning. At first my efforts met with a stare of +surprise or inextinguishable laughter, but presently a fair-haired +little creature seemed to grasp my intention and repeated a name. They +had to chatter and explain the business at great length to each other, +and my first attempts to make the exquisite little sounds of their +language caused an immense amount of genuine, if uncivil, amusement. +However, I felt like a schoolmaster amidst children, and persisted, and +presently I had a score of noun substantives at least at my command; +and then I got to demonstrative pronouns, and even the verb ‘to eat.’ +But it was slow work, and the little people soon tired and wanted to +get away from my interrogations, so I determined, rather of necessity, +to let them give their lessons in little doses when they felt inclined. +And very little doses I found they were before long, for I never met +people more indolent or more easily fatigued. + + + + + VI. + The Sunset of Mankind + + +“A queer thing I soon discovered about my little hosts, and that was +their lack of interest. They would come to me with eager cries of +astonishment, like children, but, like children they would soon stop +examining me, and wander away after some other toy. The dinner and my +conversational beginnings ended, I noted for the first time that almost +all those who had surrounded me at first were gone. It is odd, too, how +speedily I came to disregard these little people. I went out through +the portal into the sunlit world again as soon as my hunger was +satisfied. I was continually meeting more of these men of the future, +who would follow me a little distance, chatter and laugh about me, and, +having smiled and gesticulated in a friendly way, leave me again to my +own devices. + +“The calm of evening was upon the world as I emerged from the great +hall, and the scene was lit by the warm glow of the setting sun. At +first things were very confusing. Everything was so entirely different +from the world I had known—even the flowers. The big building I had +left was situated on the slope of a broad river valley, but the Thames +had shifted, perhaps, a mile from its present position. I resolved to +mount to the summit of a crest, perhaps a mile and a half away, from +which I could get a wider view of this our planet in the year Eight +Hundred and Two Thousand Seven Hundred and One, A.D. For that, I should +explain, was the date the little dials of my machine recorded. + +“As I walked I was watching for every impression that could possibly +help to explain the condition of ruinous splendour in which I found the +world—for ruinous it was. A little way up the hill, for instance, was a +great heap of granite, bound together by masses of aluminium, a vast +labyrinth of precipitous walls and crumpled heaps, amidst which were +thick heaps of very beautiful pagoda-like plants—nettles possibly—but +wonderfully tinted with brown about the leaves, and incapable of +stinging. It was evidently the derelict remains of some vast structure, +to what end built I could not determine. It was here that I was +destined, at a later date, to have a very strange experience—the first +intimation of a still stranger discovery—but of that I will speak in +its proper place. + +“Looking round, with a sudden thought, from a terrace on which I rested +for a while, I realised that there were no small houses to be seen. +Apparently the single house, and possibly even the household, had +vanished. Here and there among the greenery were palace-like buildings, +but the house and the cottage, which form such characteristic features +of our own English landscape, had disappeared. + +“‘Communism,’ said I to myself. + +“And on the heels of that came another thought. I looked at the +half-dozen little figures that were following me. Then, in a flash, I +perceived that all had the same form of costume, the same soft hairless +visage, and the same girlish rotundity of limb. It may seem strange, +perhaps, that I had not noticed this before. But everything was so +strange. Now, I saw the fact plainly enough. In costume, and in all the +differences of texture and bearing that now mark off the sexes from +each other, these people of the future were alike. And the children +seemed to my eyes to be but the miniatures of their parents. I judged +then that the children of that time were extremely precocious, +physically at least, and I found afterwards abundant verification of my +opinion. + +“Seeing the ease and security in which these people were living, I felt +that this close resemblance of the sexes was after all what one would +expect; for the strength of a man and the softness of a woman, the +institution of the family, and the differentiation of occupations are +mere militant necessities of an age of physical force. Where population +is balanced and abundant, much childbearing becomes an evil rather than +a blessing to the State; where violence comes but rarely and offspring +are secure, there is less necessity—indeed there is no necessity—for an +efficient family, and the specialisation of the sexes with reference to +their children’s needs disappears. We see some beginnings of this even +in our own time, and in this future age it was complete. This, I must +remind you, was my speculation at the time. Later, I was to appreciate +how far it fell short of the reality. + +“While I was musing upon these things, my attention was attracted by a +pretty little structure, like a well under a cupola. I thought in a +transitory way of the oddness of wells still existing, and then resumed +the thread of my speculations. There were no large buildings towards +the top of the hill, and as my walking powers were evidently +miraculous, I was presently left alone for the first time. With a +strange sense of freedom and adventure I pushed on up to the crest. + +“There I found a seat of some yellow metal that I did not recognise, +corroded in places with a kind of pinkish rust and half smothered in +soft moss, the arm-rests cast and filed into the resemblance of +griffins’ heads. I sat down on it, and I surveyed the broad view of our +old world under the sunset of that long day. It was as sweet and fair a +view as I have ever seen. The sun had already gone below the horizon +and the west was flaming gold, touched with some horizontal bars of +purple and crimson. Below was the valley of the Thames, in which the +river lay like a band of burnished steel. I have already spoken of the +great palaces dotted about among the variegated greenery, some in ruins +and some still occupied. Here and there rose a white or silvery figure +in the waste garden of the earth, here and there came the sharp +vertical line of some cupola or obelisk. There were no hedges, no signs +of proprietary rights, no evidences of agriculture; the whole earth had +become a garden. + +“So watching, I began to put my interpretation upon the things I had +seen, and as it shaped itself to me that evening, my interpretation was +something in this way. (Afterwards I found I had got only a half +truth—or only a glimpse of one facet of the truth.) + +“It seemed to me that I had happened upon humanity upon the wane. The +ruddy sunset set me thinking of the sunset of mankind. For the first +time I began to realise an odd consequence of the social effort in +which we are at present engaged. And yet, come to think, it is a +logical consequence enough. Strength is the outcome of need; security +sets a premium on feebleness. The work of ameliorating the conditions +of life—the true civilising process that makes life more and more +secure—had gone steadily on to a climax. One triumph of a united +humanity over Nature had followed another. Things that are now mere +dreams had become projects deliberately put in hand and carried +forward. And the harvest was what I saw! + +“After all, the sanitation and the agriculture of today are still in +the rudimentary stage. The science of our time has attacked but a +little department of the field of human disease, but, even so, it +spreads its operations very steadily and persistently. Our agriculture +and horticulture destroy a weed just here and there and cultivate +perhaps a score or so of wholesome plants, leaving the greater number +to fight out a balance as they can. We improve our favourite plants and +animals—and how few they are—gradually by selective breeding; now a new +and better peach, now a seedless grape, now a sweeter and larger +flower, now a more convenient breed of cattle. We improve them +gradually, because our ideals are vague and tentative, and our +knowledge is very limited; because Nature, too, is shy and slow in our +clumsy hands. Some day all this will be better organised, and still +better. That is the drift of the current in spite of the eddies. The +whole world will be intelligent, educated, and co-operating; things +will move faster and faster towards the subjugation of Nature. In the +end, wisely and carefully we shall readjust the balance of animal and +vegetable life to suit our human needs. + +“This adjustment, I say, must have been done, and done well; done +indeed for all Time, in the space of Time across which my machine had +leapt. The air was free from gnats, the earth from weeds or fungi; +everywhere were fruits and sweet and delightful flowers; brilliant +butterflies flew hither and thither. The ideal of preventive medicine +was attained. Diseases had been stamped out. I saw no evidence of any +contagious diseases during all my stay. And I shall have to tell you +later that even the processes of putrefaction and decay had been +profoundly affected by these changes. + +“Social triumphs, too, had been effected. I saw mankind housed in +splendid shelters, gloriously clothed, and as yet I had found them +engaged in no toil. There were no signs of struggle, neither social nor +economical struggle. The shop, the advertisement, traffic, all that +commerce which constitutes the body of our world, was gone. It was +natural on that golden evening that I should jump at the idea of a +social paradise. The difficulty of increasing population had been met, +I guessed, and population had ceased to increase. + +“But with this change in condition comes inevitably adaptations to the +change. What, unless biological science is a mass of errors, is the +cause of human intelligence and vigour? Hardship and freedom: +conditions under which the active, strong, and subtle survive and the +weaker go to the wall; conditions that put a premium upon the loyal +alliance of capable men, upon self-restraint, patience, and decision. +And the institution of the family, and the emotions that arise therein, +the fierce jealousy, the tenderness for offspring, parental +self-devotion, all found their justification and support in the +imminent dangers of the young. _Now_, where are these imminent dangers? +There is a sentiment arising, and it will grow, against connubial +jealousy, against fierce maternity, against passion of all sorts; +unnecessary things now, and things that make us uncomfortable, savage +survivals, discords in a refined and pleasant life. + +“I thought of the physical slightness of the people, their lack of +intelligence, and those big abundant ruins, and it strengthened my +belief in a perfect conquest of Nature. For after the battle comes +Quiet. Humanity had been strong, energetic, and intelligent, and had +used all its abundant vitality to alter the conditions under which it +lived. And now came the reaction of the altered conditions. + +“Under the new conditions of perfect comfort and security, that +restless energy, that with us is strength, would become weakness. Even +in our own time certain tendencies and desires, once necessary to +survival, are a constant source of failure. Physical courage and the +love of battle, for instance, are no great help—may even be +hindrances—to a civilised man. And in a state of physical balance and +security, power, intellectual as well as physical, would be out of +place. For countless years I judged there had been no danger of war or +solitary violence, no danger from wild beasts, no wasting disease to +require strength of constitution, no need of toil. For such a life, +what we should call the weak are as well equipped as the strong, are +indeed no longer weak. Better equipped indeed they are, for the strong +would be fretted by an energy for which there was no outlet. No doubt +the exquisite beauty of the buildings I saw was the outcome of the last +surgings of the now purposeless energy of mankind before it settled +down into perfect harmony with the conditions under which it lived—the +flourish of that triumph which began the last great peace. This has +ever been the fate of energy in security; it takes to art and to +eroticism, and then come languor and decay. + +“Even this artistic impetus would at last die away—had almost died in +the Time I saw. To adorn themselves with flowers, to dance, to sing in +the sunlight: so much was left of the artistic spirit, and no more. +Even that would fade in the end into a contented inactivity. We are +kept keen on the grindstone of pain and necessity, and it seemed to me +that here was that hateful grindstone broken at last! + +“As I stood there in the gathering dark I thought that in this simple +explanation I had mastered the problem of the world—mastered the whole +secret of these delicious people. Possibly the checks they had devised +for the increase of population had succeeded too well, and their +numbers had rather diminished than kept stationary. That would account +for the abandoned ruins. Very simple was my explanation, and plausible +enough—as most wrong theories are! + + + + + VII. + A Sudden Shock + + +“As I stood there musing over this too perfect triumph of man, the full +moon, yellow and gibbous, came up out of an overflow of silver light in +the north-east. The bright little figures ceased to move about below, a +noiseless owl flitted by, and I shivered with the chill of the night. I +determined to descend and find where I could sleep. + +“I looked for the building I knew. Then my eye travelled along to the +figure of the White Sphinx upon the pedestal of bronze, growing +distinct as the light of the rising moon grew brighter. I could see the +silver birch against it. There was the tangle of rhododendron bushes, +black in the pale light, and there was the little lawn. I looked at the +lawn again. A queer doubt chilled my complacency. ‘No,’ said I stoutly +to myself, ‘that was not the lawn.’ + +“But it _was_ the lawn. For the white leprous face of the sphinx was +towards it. Can you imagine what I felt as this conviction came home to +me? But you cannot. The Time Machine was gone! + +“At once, like a lash across the face, came the possibility of losing +my own age, of being left helpless in this strange new world. The bare +thought of it was an actual physical sensation. I could feel it grip me +at the throat and stop my breathing. In another moment I was in a +passion of fear and running with great leaping strides down the slope. +Once I fell headlong and cut my face; I lost no time in stanching the +blood, but jumped up and ran on, with a warm trickle down my cheek and +chin. All the time I ran I was saying to myself: ‘They have moved it a +little, pushed it under the bushes out of the way.’ Nevertheless, I ran +with all my might. All the time, with the certainty that sometimes +comes with excessive dread, I knew that such assurance was folly, knew +instinctively that the machine was removed out of my reach. My breath +came with pain. I suppose I covered the whole distance from the hill +crest to the little lawn, two miles perhaps, in ten minutes. And I am +not a young man. I cursed aloud, as I ran, at my confident folly in +leaving the machine, wasting good breath thereby. I cried aloud, and +none answered. Not a creature seemed to be stirring in that moonlit +world. + +“When I reached the lawn my worst fears were realised. Not a trace of +the thing was to be seen. I felt faint and cold when I faced the empty +space among the black tangle of bushes. I ran round it furiously, as if +the thing might be hidden in a corner, and then stopped abruptly, with +my hands clutching my hair. Above me towered the sphinx, upon the +bronze pedestal, white, shining, leprous, in the light of the rising +moon. It seemed to smile in mockery of my dismay. + +“I might have consoled myself by imagining the little people had put +the mechanism in some shelter for me, had I not felt assured of their +physical and intellectual inadequacy. That is what dismayed me: the +sense of some hitherto unsuspected power, through whose intervention my +invention had vanished. Yet, for one thing I felt assured: unless some +other age had produced its exact duplicate, the machine could not have +moved in time. The attachment of the levers—I will show you the method +later—prevented anyone from tampering with it in that way when they +were removed. It had moved, and was hid, only in space. But then, where +could it be? + +“I think I must have had a kind of frenzy. I remember running violently +in and out among the moonlit bushes all round the sphinx, and startling +some white animal that, in the dim light, I took for a small deer. I +remember, too, late that night, beating the bushes with my clenched +fist until my knuckles were gashed and bleeding from the broken twigs. +Then, sobbing and raving in my anguish of mind, I went down to the +great building of stone. The big hall was dark, silent, and deserted. I +slipped on the uneven floor, and fell over one of the malachite tables, +almost breaking my shin. I lit a match and went on past the dusty +curtains, of which I have told you. + +“There I found a second great hall covered with cushions, upon which, +perhaps, a score or so of the little people were sleeping. I have no +doubt they found my second appearance strange enough, coming suddenly +out of the quiet darkness with inarticulate noises and the splutter and +flare of a match. For they had forgotten about matches. ‘Where is my +Time Machine?’ I began, bawling like an angry child, laying hands upon +them and shaking them up together. It must have been very queer to +them. Some laughed, most of them looked sorely frightened. When I saw +them standing round me, it came into my head that I was doing as +foolish a thing as it was possible for me to do under the +circumstances, in trying to revive the sensation of fear. For, +reasoning from their daylight behaviour, I thought that fear must be +forgotten. + +“Abruptly, I dashed down the match, and knocking one of the people over +in my course, went blundering across the big dining-hall again, out +under the moonlight. I heard cries of terror and their little feet +running and stumbling this way and that. I do not remember all I did as +the moon crept up the sky. I suppose it was the unexpected nature of my +loss that maddened me. I felt hopelessly cut off from my own kind—a +strange animal in an unknown world. I must have raved to and fro, +screaming and crying upon God and Fate. I have a memory of horrible +fatigue, as the long night of despair wore away; of looking in this +impossible place and that; of groping among moonlit ruins and touching +strange creatures in the black shadows; at last, of lying on the ground +near the sphinx and weeping with absolute wretchedness, even anger at +the folly of leaving the machine having leaked away with my strength. I +had nothing left but misery. Then I slept, and when I woke again it was +full day, and a couple of sparrows were hopping round me on the turf +within reach of my arm. + +“I sat up in the freshness of the morning, trying to remember how I had +got there, and why I had such a profound sense of desertion and +despair. Then things came clear in my mind. With the plain, reasonable +daylight, I could look my circumstances fairly in the face. I saw the +wild folly of my frenzy overnight, and I could reason with myself. +‘Suppose the worst?’ I said. ‘Suppose the machine altogether +lost—perhaps destroyed? It behoves me to be calm and patient, to learn +the way of the people, to get a clear idea of the method of my loss, +and the means of getting materials and tools; so that in the end, +perhaps, I may make another.’ That would be my only hope, a poor hope, +perhaps, but better than despair. And, after all, it was a beautiful +and curious world. + +“But probably the machine had only been taken away. Still, I must be +calm and patient, find its hiding-place, and recover it by force or +cunning. And with that I scrambled to my feet and looked about me, +wondering where I could bathe. I felt weary, stiff, and travel-soiled. +The freshness of the morning made me desire an equal freshness. I had +exhausted my emotion. Indeed, as I went about my business, I found +myself wondering at my intense excitement overnight. I made a careful +examination of the ground about the little lawn. I wasted some time in +futile questionings, conveyed, as well as I was able, to such of the +little people as came by. They all failed to understand my gestures; +some were simply stolid, some thought it was a jest and laughed at me. +I had the hardest task in the world to keep my hands off their pretty +laughing faces. It was a foolish impulse, but the devil begotten of +fear and blind anger was ill curbed and still eager to take advantage +of my perplexity. The turf gave better counsel. I found a groove ripped +in it, about midway between the pedestal of the sphinx and the marks of +my feet where, on arrival, I had struggled with the overturned machine. +There were other signs of removal about, with queer narrow footprints +like those I could imagine made by a sloth. This directed my closer +attention to the pedestal. It was, as I think I have said, of bronze. +It was not a mere block, but highly decorated with deep framed panels +on either side. I went and rapped at these. The pedestal was hollow. +Examining the panels with care I found them discontinuous with the +frames. There were no handles or keyholes, but possibly the panels, if +they were doors, as I supposed, opened from within. One thing was clear +enough to my mind. It took no very great mental effort to infer that my +Time Machine was inside that pedestal. But how it got there was a +different problem. + +“I saw the heads of two orange-clad people coming through the bushes +and under some blossom-covered apple-trees towards me. I turned smiling +to them, and beckoned them to me. They came, and then, pointing to the +bronze pedestal, I tried to intimate my wish to open it. But at my +first gesture towards this they behaved very oddly. I don’t know how to +convey their expression to you. Suppose you were to use a grossly +improper gesture to a delicate-minded woman—it is how she would look. +They went off as if they had received the last possible insult. I tried +a sweet-looking little chap in white next, with exactly the same +result. Somehow, his manner made me feel ashamed of myself. But, as you +know, I wanted the Time Machine, and I tried him once more. As he +turned off, like the others, my temper got the better of me. In three +strides I was after him, had him by the loose part of his robe round +the neck, and began dragging him towards the sphinx. Then I saw the +horror and repugnance of his face, and all of a sudden I let him go. + +“But I was not beaten yet. I banged with my fist at the bronze panels. +I thought I heard something stir inside—to be explicit, I thought I +heard a sound like a chuckle—but I must have been mistaken. Then I got +a big pebble from the river, and came and hammered till I had flattened +a coil in the decorations, and the verdigris came off in powdery +flakes. The delicate little people must have heard me hammering in +gusty outbreaks a mile away on either hand, but nothing came of it. I +saw a crowd of them upon the slopes, looking furtively at me. At last, +hot and tired, I sat down to watch the place. But I was too restless to +watch long; I am too Occidental for a long vigil. I could work at a +problem for years, but to wait inactive for twenty-four hours—that is +another matter. + +“I got up after a time, and began walking aimlessly through the bushes +towards the hill again. ‘Patience,’ said I to myself. ‘If you want your +machine again you must leave that sphinx alone. If they mean to take +your machine away, it’s little good your wrecking their bronze panels, +and if they don’t, you will get it back as soon as you can ask for it. +To sit among all those unknown things before a puzzle like that is +hopeless. That way lies monomania. Face this world. Learn its ways, +watch it, be careful of too hasty guesses at its meaning. In the end +you will find clues to it all.’ Then suddenly the humour of the +situation came into my mind: the thought of the years I had spent in +study and toil to get into the future age, and now my passion of +anxiety to get out of it. I had made myself the most complicated and +the most hopeless trap that ever a man devised. Although it was at my +own expense, I could not help myself. I laughed aloud. + +“Going through the big palace, it seemed to me that the little people +avoided me. It may have been my fancy, or it may have had something to +do with my hammering at the gates of bronze. Yet I felt tolerably sure +of the avoidance. I was careful, however, to show no concern and to +abstain from any pursuit of them, and in the course of a day or two +things got back to the old footing. I made what progress I could in the +language, and in addition I pushed my explorations here and there. +Either I missed some subtle point or their language was excessively +simple—almost exclusively composed of concrete substantives and verbs. +There seemed to be few, if any, abstract terms, or little use of +figurative language. Their sentences were usually simple and of two +words, and I failed to convey or understand any but the simplest +propositions. I determined to put the thought of my Time Machine and +the mystery of the bronze doors under the sphinx, as much as possible +in a corner of memory, until my growing knowledge would lead me back to +them in a natural way. Yet a certain feeling, you may understand, +tethered me in a circle of a few miles round the point of my arrival. + + + + + VIII. + Explanation + + +“So far as I could see, all the world displayed the same exuberant +richness as the Thames valley. From every hill I climbed I saw the same +abundance of splendid buildings, endlessly varied in material and +style, the same clustering thickets of evergreens, the same +blossom-laden trees and tree ferns. Here and there water shone like +silver, and beyond, the land rose into blue undulating hills, and so +faded into the serenity of the sky. A peculiar feature, which presently +attracted my attention, was the presence of certain circular wells, +several, as it seemed to me, of a very great depth. One lay by the path +up the hill which I had followed during my first walk. Like the others, +it was rimmed with bronze, curiously wrought, and protected by a little +cupola from the rain. Sitting by the side of these wells, and peering +down into the shafted darkness, I could see no gleam of water, nor +could I start any reflection with a lighted match. But in all of them I +heard a certain sound: a thud—thud—thud, like the beating of some big +engine; and I discovered, from the flaring of my matches, that a steady +current of air set down the shafts. Further, I threw a scrap of paper +into the throat of one, and, instead of fluttering slowly down, it was +at once sucked swiftly out of sight. + +“After a time, too, I came to connect these wells with tall towers +standing here and there upon the slopes; for above them there was often +just such a flicker in the air as one sees on a hot day above a +sun-scorched beach. Putting things together, I reached a strong +suggestion of an extensive system of subterranean ventilation, whose +true import it was difficult to imagine. I was at first inclined to +associate it with the sanitary apparatus of these people. It was an +obvious conclusion, but it was absolutely wrong. + +“And here I must admit that I learnt very little of drains and bells +and modes of conveyance, and the like conveniences, during my time in +this real future. In some of these visions of Utopias and coming times +which I have read, there is a vast amount of detail about building, and +social arrangements, and so forth. But while such details are easy +enough to obtain when the whole world is contained in one’s +imagination, they are altogether inaccessible to a real traveller amid +such realities as I found here. Conceive the tale of London which a +negro, fresh from Central Africa, would take back to his tribe! What +would he know of railway companies, of social movements, of telephone +and telegraph wires, of the Parcels Delivery Company, and postal orders +and the like? Yet we, at least, should be willing enough to explain +these things to him! And even of what he knew, how much could he make +his untravelled friend either apprehend or believe? Then, think how +narrow the gap between a negro and a white man of our own times, and +how wide the interval between myself and these of the Golden Age! I was +sensible of much which was unseen, and which contributed to my comfort; +but save for a general impression of automatic organisation, I fear I +can convey very little of the difference to your mind. + +“In the matter of sepulture, for instance, I could see no signs of +crematoria nor anything suggestive of tombs. But it occurred to me +that, possibly, there might be cemeteries (or crematoria) somewhere +beyond the range of my explorings. This, again, was a question I +deliberately put to myself, and my curiosity was at first entirely +defeated upon the point. The thing puzzled me, and I was led to make a +further remark, which puzzled me still more: that aged and infirm among +this people there were none. + +“I must confess that my satisfaction with my first theories of an +automatic civilisation and a decadent humanity did not long endure. Yet +I could think of no other. Let me put my difficulties. The several big +palaces I had explored were mere living places, great dining-halls and +sleeping apartments. I could find no machinery, no appliances of any +kind. Yet these people were clothed in pleasant fabrics that must at +times need renewal, and their sandals, though undecorated, were fairly +complex specimens of metalwork. Somehow such things must be made. And +the little people displayed no vestige of a creative tendency. There +were no shops, no workshops, no sign of importations among them. They +spent all their time in playing gently, in bathing in the river, in +making love in a half-playful fashion, in eating fruit and sleeping. I +could not see how things were kept going. + +“Then, again, about the Time Machine: something, I knew not what, had +taken it into the hollow pedestal of the White Sphinx. _Why?_ For the +life of me I could not imagine. Those waterless wells, too, those +flickering pillars. I felt I lacked a clue. I felt—how shall I put it? +Suppose you found an inscription, with sentences here and there in +excellent plain English, and interpolated therewith, others made up of +words, of letters even, absolutely unknown to you? Well, on the third +day of my visit, that was how the world of Eight Hundred and Two +Thousand Seven Hundred and One presented itself to me! + +“That day, too, I made a friend—of a sort. It happened that, as I was +watching some of the little people bathing in a shallow, one of them +was seized with cramp and began drifting downstream. The main current +ran rather swiftly, but not too strongly for even a moderate swimmer. +It will give you an idea, therefore, of the strange deficiency in these +creatures, when I tell you that none made the slightest attempt to +rescue the weakly crying little thing which was drowning before their +eyes. When I realised this, I hurriedly slipped off my clothes, and, +wading in at a point lower down, I caught the poor mite and drew her +safe to land. A little rubbing of the limbs soon brought her round, and +I had the satisfaction of seeing she was all right before I left her. I +had got to such a low estimate of her kind that I did not expect any +gratitude from her. In that, however, I was wrong. + +“This happened in the morning. In the afternoon I met my little woman, +as I believe it was, as I was returning towards my centre from an +exploration, and she received me with cries of delight and presented me +with a big garland of flowers—evidently made for me and me alone. The +thing took my imagination. Very possibly I had been feeling desolate. +At any rate I did my best to display my appreciation of the gift. We +were soon seated together in a little stone arbour, engaged in +conversation, chiefly of smiles. The creature’s friendliness affected +me exactly as a child’s might have done. We passed each other flowers, +and she kissed my hands. I did the same to hers. Then I tried talk, and +found that her name was Weena, which, though I don’t know what it +meant, somehow seemed appropriate enough. That was the beginning of a +queer friendship which lasted a week, and ended—as I will tell you! + +“She was exactly like a child. She wanted to be with me always. She +tried to follow me everywhere, and on my next journey out and about it +went to my heart to tire her down, and leave her at last, exhausted and +calling after me rather plaintively. But the problems of the world had +to be mastered. I had not, I said to myself, come into the future to +carry on a miniature flirtation. Yet her distress when I left her was +very great, her expostulations at the parting were sometimes frantic, +and I think, altogether, I had as much trouble as comfort from her +devotion. Nevertheless she was, somehow, a very great comfort. I +thought it was mere childish affection that made her cling to me. Until +it was too late, I did not clearly know what I had inflicted upon her +when I left her. Nor until it was too late did I clearly understand +what she was to me. For, by merely seeming fond of me, and showing in +her weak, futile way that she cared for me, the little doll of a +creature presently gave my return to the neighbourhood of the White +Sphinx almost the feeling of coming home; and I would watch for her +tiny figure of white and gold so soon as I came over the hill. + +“It was from her, too, that I learnt that fear had not yet left the +world. She was fearless enough in the daylight, and she had the oddest +confidence in me; for once, in a foolish moment, I made threatening +grimaces at her, and she simply laughed at them. But she dreaded the +dark, dreaded shadows, dreaded black things. Darkness to her was the +one thing dreadful. It was a singularly passionate emotion, and it set +me thinking and observing. I discovered then, among other things, that +these little people gathered into the great houses after dark, and +slept in droves. To enter upon them without a light was to put them +into a tumult of apprehension. I never found one out of doors, or one +sleeping alone within doors, after dark. Yet I was still such a +blockhead that I missed the lesson of that fear, and in spite of +Weena’s distress, I insisted upon sleeping away from these slumbering +multitudes. + +“It troubled her greatly, but in the end her odd affection for me +triumphed, and for five of the nights of our acquaintance, including +the last night of all, she slept with her head pillowed on my arm. But +my story slips away from me as I speak of her. It must have been the +night before her rescue that I was awakened about dawn. I had been +restless, dreaming most disagreeably that I was drowned, and that sea +anemones were feeling over my face with their soft palps. I woke with a +start, and with an odd fancy that some greyish animal had just rushed +out of the chamber. I tried to get to sleep again, but I felt restless +and uncomfortable. It was that dim grey hour when things are just +creeping out of darkness, when everything is colourless and clear cut, +and yet unreal. I got up, and went down into the great hall, and so out +upon the flagstones in front of the palace. I thought I would make a +virtue of necessity, and see the sunrise. + +“The moon was setting, and the dying moonlight and the first pallor of +dawn were mingled in a ghastly half-light. The bushes were inky black, +the ground a sombre grey, the sky colourless and cheerless. And up the +hill I thought I could see ghosts. Three several times, as I scanned +the slope, I saw white figures. Twice I fancied I saw a solitary white, +ape-like creature running rather quickly up the hill, and once near the +ruins I saw a leash of them carrying some dark body. They moved +hastily. I did not see what became of them. It seemed that they +vanished among the bushes. The dawn was still indistinct, you must +understand. I was feeling that chill, uncertain, early-morning feeling +you may have known. I doubted my eyes. + +“As the eastern sky grew brighter, and the light of the day came on and +its vivid colouring returned upon the world once more, I scanned the +view keenly. But I saw no vestige of my white figures. They were mere +creatures of the half-light. ‘They must have been ghosts,’ I said; ‘I +wonder whence they dated.’ For a queer notion of Grant Allen’s came +into my head, and amused me. If each generation die and leave ghosts, +he argued, the world at last will get overcrowded with them. On that +theory they would have grown innumerable some Eight Hundred Thousand +Years hence, and it was no great wonder to see four at once. But the +jest was unsatisfying, and I was thinking of these figures all the +morning, until Weena’s rescue drove them out of my head. I associated +them in some indefinite way with the white animal I had startled in my +first passionate search for the Time Machine. But Weena was a pleasant +substitute. Yet all the same, they were soon destined to take far +deadlier possession of my mind. + +“I think I have said how much hotter than our own was the weather of +this Golden Age. I cannot account for it. It may be that the sun was +hotter, or the earth nearer the sun. It is usual to assume that the sun +will go on cooling steadily in the future. But people, unfamiliar with +such speculations as those of the younger Darwin, forget that the +planets must ultimately fall back one by one into the parent body. As +these catastrophes occur, the sun will blaze with renewed energy; and +it may be that some inner planet had suffered this fate. Whatever the +reason, the fact remains that the sun was very much hotter than we know +it. + +“Well, one very hot morning—my fourth, I think—as I was seeking shelter +from the heat and glare in a colossal ruin near the great house where I +slept and fed, there happened this strange thing. Clambering among +these heaps of masonry, I found a narrow gallery, whose end and side +windows were blocked by fallen masses of stone. By contrast with the +brilliancy outside, it seemed at first impenetrably dark to me. I +entered it groping, for the change from light to blackness made spots +of colour swim before me. Suddenly I halted spellbound. A pair of eyes, +luminous by reflection against the daylight without, was watching me +out of the darkness. + +“The old instinctive dread of wild beasts came upon me. I clenched my +hands and steadfastly looked into the glaring eyeballs. I was afraid to +turn. Then the thought of the absolute security in which humanity +appeared to be living came to my mind. And then I remembered that +strange terror of the dark. Overcoming my fear to some extent, I +advanced a step and spoke. I will admit that my voice was harsh and +ill-controlled. I put out my hand and touched something soft. At once +the eyes darted sideways, and something white ran past me. I turned +with my heart in my mouth, and saw a queer little ape-like figure, its +head held down in a peculiar manner, running across the sunlit space +behind me. It blundered against a block of granite, staggered aside, +and in a moment was hidden in a black shadow beneath another pile of +ruined masonry. + +“My impression of it is, of course, imperfect; but I know it was a dull +white, and had strange large greyish-red eyes; also that there was +flaxen hair on its head and down its back. But, as I say, it went too +fast for me to see distinctly. I cannot even say whether it ran on all +fours, or only with its forearms held very low. After an instant’s +pause I followed it into the second heap of ruins. I could not find it +at first; but, after a time in the profound obscurity, I came upon one +of those round well-like openings of which I have told you, half closed +by a fallen pillar. A sudden thought came to me. Could this Thing have +vanished down the shaft? I lit a match, and, looking down, I saw a +small, white, moving creature, with large bright eyes which regarded me +steadfastly as it retreated. It made me shudder. It was so like a human +spider! It was clambering down the wall, and now I saw for the first +time a number of metal foot and hand rests forming a kind of ladder +down the shaft. Then the light burned my fingers and fell out of my +hand, going out as it dropped, and when I had lit another the little +monster had disappeared. + +“I do not know how long I sat peering down that well. It was not for +some time that I could succeed in persuading myself that the thing I +had seen was human. But, gradually, the truth dawned on me: that Man +had not remained one species, but had differentiated into two distinct +animals: that my graceful children of the Upper World were not the sole +descendants of our generation, but that this bleached, obscene, +nocturnal Thing, which had flashed before me, was also heir to all the +ages. + +“I thought of the flickering pillars and of my theory of an underground +ventilation. I began to suspect their true import. And what, I +wondered, was this Lemur doing in my scheme of a perfectly balanced +organisation? How was it related to the indolent serenity of the +beautiful Overworlders? And what was hidden down there, at the foot of +that shaft? I sat upon the edge of the well telling myself that, at any +rate, there was nothing to fear, and that there I must descend for the +solution of my difficulties. And withal I was absolutely afraid to go! +As I hesitated, two of the beautiful upperworld people came running in +their amorous sport across the daylight in the shadow. The male pursued +the female, flinging flowers at her as he ran. + +“They seemed distressed to find me, my arm against the overturned +pillar, peering down the well. Apparently it was considered bad form to +remark these apertures; for when I pointed to this one, and tried to +frame a question about it in their tongue, they were still more visibly +distressed and turned away. But they were interested by my matches, and +I struck some to amuse them. I tried them again about the well, and +again I failed. So presently I left them, meaning to go back to Weena, +and see what I could get from her. But my mind was already in +revolution; my guesses and impressions were slipping and sliding to a +new adjustment. I had now a clue to the import of these wells, to the +ventilating towers, to the mystery of the ghosts; to say nothing of a +hint at the meaning of the bronze gates and the fate of the Time +Machine! And very vaguely there came a suggestion towards the solution +of the economic problem that had puzzled me. + +“Here was the new view. Plainly, this second species of Man was +subterranean. There were three circumstances in particular which made +me think that its rare emergence above ground was the outcome of a +long-continued underground habit. In the first place, there was the +bleached look common in most animals that live largely in the dark—the +white fish of the Kentucky caves, for instance. Then, those large eyes, +with that capacity for reflecting light, are common features of +nocturnal things—witness the owl and the cat. And last of all, that +evident confusion in the sunshine, that hasty yet fumbling awkward +flight towards dark shadow, and that peculiar carriage of the head +while in the light—all reinforced the theory of an extreme +sensitiveness of the retina. + +“Beneath my feet, then, the earth must be tunnelled enormously, and +these tunnellings were the habitat of the New Race. The presence of +ventilating shafts and wells along the hill slopes—everywhere, in fact, +except along the river valley—showed how universal were its +ramifications. What so natural, then, as to assume that it was in this +artificial Underworld that such work as was necessary to the comfort of +the daylight race was done? The notion was so plausible that I at once +accepted it, and went on to assume the _how_ of this splitting of the +human species. I dare say you will anticipate the shape of my theory; +though, for myself, I very soon felt that it fell far short of the +truth. + +“At first, proceeding from the problems of our own age, it seemed clear +as daylight to me that the gradual widening of the present merely +temporary and social difference between the Capitalist and the Labourer +was the key to the whole position. No doubt it will seem grotesque +enough to you—and wildly incredible!—and yet even now there are +existing circumstances to point that way. There is a tendency to +utilise underground space for the less ornamental purposes of +civilisation; there is the Metropolitan Railway in London, for +instance, there are new electric railways, there are subways, there are +underground workrooms and restaurants, and they increase and multiply. +Evidently, I thought, this tendency had increased till Industry had +gradually lost its birthright in the sky. I mean that it had gone +deeper and deeper into larger and ever larger underground factories, +spending a still-increasing amount of its time therein, till, in the +end—! Even now, does not an East-end worker live in such artificial +conditions as practically to be cut off from the natural surface of the +earth? + +“Again, the exclusive tendency of richer people—due, no doubt, to the +increasing refinement of their education, and the widening gulf between +them and the rude violence of the poor—is already leading to the +closing, in their interest, of considerable portions of the surface of +the land. About London, for instance, perhaps half the prettier country +is shut in against intrusion. And this same widening gulf—which is due +to the length and expense of the higher educational process and the +increased facilities for and temptations towards refined habits on the +part of the rich—will make that exchange between class and class, that +promotion by intermarriage which at present retards the splitting of +our species along lines of social stratification, less and less +frequent. So, in the end, above ground you must have the Haves, +pursuing pleasure and comfort and beauty, and below ground the +Have-nots, the Workers getting continually adapted to the conditions of +their labour. Once they were there, they would no doubt have to pay +rent, and not a little of it, for the ventilation of their caverns; and +if they refused, they would starve or be suffocated for arrears. Such +of them as were so constituted as to be miserable and rebellious would +die; and, in the end, the balance being permanent, the survivors would +become as well adapted to the conditions of underground life, and as +happy in their way, as the Overworld people were to theirs. As it +seemed to me, the refined beauty and the etiolated pallor followed +naturally enough. + +“The great triumph of Humanity I had dreamed of took a different shape +in my mind. It had been no such triumph of moral education and general +co-operation as I had imagined. Instead, I saw a real aristocracy, +armed with a perfected science and working to a logical conclusion the +industrial system of today. Its triumph had not been simply a triumph +over Nature, but a triumph over Nature and the fellow-man. This, I must +warn you, was my theory at the time. I had no convenient cicerone in +the pattern of the Utopian books. My explanation may be absolutely +wrong. I still think it is the most plausible one. But even on this +supposition the balanced civilisation that was at last attained must +have long since passed its zenith, and was now far fallen into decay. +The too-perfect security of the Overworlders had led them to a slow +movement of degeneration, to a general dwindling in size, strength, and +intelligence. That I could see clearly enough already. What had +happened to the Undergrounders I did not yet suspect; but, from what I +had seen of the Morlocks—that, by the bye, was the name by which these +creatures were called—I could imagine that the modification of the +human type was even far more profound than among the ‘Eloi,’ the +beautiful race that I already knew. + +“Then came troublesome doubts. Why had the Morlocks taken my Time +Machine? For I felt sure it was they who had taken it. Why, too, if the +Eloi were masters, could they not restore the machine to me? And why +were they so terribly afraid of the dark? I proceeded, as I have said, +to question Weena about this Underworld, but here again I was +disappointed. At first she would not understand my questions, and +presently she refused to answer them. She shivered as though the topic +was unendurable. And when I pressed her, perhaps a little harshly, she +burst into tears. They were the only tears, except my own, I ever saw +in that Golden Age. When I saw them I ceased abruptly to trouble about +the Morlocks, and was only concerned in banishing these signs of her +human inheritance from Weena’s eyes. And very soon she was smiling and +clapping her hands, while I solemnly burnt a match. + + + + + IX. + The Morlocks + + +“It may seem odd to you, but it was two days before I could follow up +the new-found clue in what was manifestly the proper way. I felt a +peculiar shrinking from those pallid bodies. They were just the +half-bleached colour of the worms and things one sees preserved in +spirit in a zoological museum. And they were filthily cold to the +touch. Probably my shrinking was largely due to the sympathetic +influence of the Eloi, whose disgust of the Morlocks I now began to +appreciate. + +“The next night I did not sleep well. Probably my health was a little +disordered. I was oppressed with perplexity and doubt. Once or twice I +had a feeling of intense fear for which I could perceive no definite +reason. I remember creeping noiselessly into the great hall where the +little people were sleeping in the moonlight—that night Weena was among +them—and feeling reassured by their presence. It occurred to me even +then, that in the course of a few days the moon must pass through its +last quarter, and the nights grow dark, when the appearances of these +unpleasant creatures from below, these whitened Lemurs, this new vermin +that had replaced the old, might be more abundant. And on both these +days I had the restless feeling of one who shirks an inevitable duty. I +felt assured that the Time Machine was only to be recovered by boldly +penetrating these mysteries of underground. Yet I could not face the +mystery. If only I had had a companion it would have been different. +But I was so horribly alone, and even to clamber down into the darkness +of the well appalled me. I don’t know if you will understand my +feeling, but I never felt quite safe at my back. + +“It was this restlessness, this insecurity, perhaps, that drove me +farther and farther afield in my exploring expeditions. Going to the +south-westward towards the rising country that is now called Combe +Wood, I observed far-off, in the direction of nineteenth-century +Banstead, a vast green structure, different in character from any I had +hitherto seen. It was larger than the largest of the palaces or ruins I +knew, and the façade had an Oriental look: the face of it having the +lustre, as well as the pale-green tint, a kind of bluish-green, of a +certain type of Chinese porcelain. This difference in aspect suggested +a difference in use, and I was minded to push on and explore. But the +day was growing late, and I had come upon the sight of the place after +a long and tiring circuit; so I resolved to hold over the adventure for +the following day, and I returned to the welcome and the caresses of +little Weena. But next morning I perceived clearly enough that my +curiosity regarding the Palace of Green Porcelain was a piece of +self-deception, to enable me to shirk, by another day, an experience I +dreaded. I resolved I would make the descent without further waste of +time, and started out in the early morning towards a well near the +ruins of granite and aluminium. + +“Little Weena ran with me. She danced beside me to the well, but when +she saw me lean over the mouth and look downward, she seemed strangely +disconcerted. ‘Good-bye, little Weena,’ I said, kissing her; and then +putting her down, I began to feel over the parapet for the climbing +hooks. Rather hastily, I may as well confess, for I feared my courage +might leak away! At first she watched me in amazement. Then she gave a +most piteous cry, and running to me, she began to pull at me with her +little hands. I think her opposition nerved me rather to proceed. I +shook her off, perhaps a little roughly, and in another moment I was in +the throat of the well. I saw her agonised face over the parapet, and +smiled to reassure her. Then I had to look down at the unstable hooks +to which I clung. + +“I had to clamber down a shaft of perhaps two hundred yards. The +descent was effected by means of metallic bars projecting from the +sides of the well, and these being adapted to the needs of a creature +much smaller and lighter than myself, I was speedily cramped and +fatigued by the descent. And not simply fatigued! One of the bars bent +suddenly under my weight, and almost swung me off into the blackness +beneath. For a moment I hung by one hand, and after that experience I +did not dare to rest again. Though my arms and back were presently +acutely painful, I went on clambering down the sheer descent with as +quick a motion as possible. Glancing upward, I saw the aperture, a +small blue disc, in which a star was visible, while little Weena’s head +showed as a round black projection. The thudding sound of a machine +below grew louder and more oppressive. Everything save that little disc +above was profoundly dark, and when I looked up again Weena had +disappeared. + +“I was in an agony of discomfort. I had some thought of trying to go up +the shaft again, and leave the Underworld alone. But even while I +turned this over in my mind I continued to descend. At last, with +intense relief, I saw dimly coming up, a foot to the right of me, a +slender loophole in the wall. Swinging myself in, I found it was the +aperture of a narrow horizontal tunnel in which I could lie down and +rest. It was not too soon. My arms ached, my back was cramped, and I +was trembling with the prolonged terror of a fall. Besides this, the +unbroken darkness had had a distressing effect upon my eyes. The air +was full of the throb and hum of machinery pumping air down the shaft. + +“I do not know how long I lay. I was arroused by a soft hand touching +my face. Starting up in the darkness I snatched at my matches and, +hastily striking one, I saw three stooping white creatures similar to +the one I had seen above ground in the ruin, hastily retreating before +the light. Living, as they did, in what appeared to me impenetrable +darkness, their eyes were abnormally large and sensitive, just as are +the pupils of the abysmal fishes, and they reflected the light in the +same way. I have no doubt they could see me in that rayless obscurity, +and they did not seem to have any fear of me apart from the light. But, +so soon as I struck a match in order to see them, they fled +incontinently, vanishing into dark gutters and tunnels, from which +their eyes glared at me in the strangest fashion. + +“I tried to call to them, but the language they had was apparently +different from that of the Overworld people; so that I was needs left +to my own unaided efforts, and the thought of flight before exploration +was even then in my mind. But I said to myself, ‘You are in for it +now,’ and, feeling my way along the tunnel, I found the noise of +machinery grow louder. Presently the walls fell away from me, and I +came to a large open space, and striking another match, saw that I had +entered a vast arched cavern, which stretched into utter darkness +beyond the range of my light. The view I had of it was as much as one +could see in the burning of a match. + +“Necessarily my memory is vague. Great shapes like big machines rose +out of the dimness, and cast grotesque black shadows, in which dim +spectral Morlocks sheltered from the glare. The place, by the bye, was +very stuffy and oppressive, and the faint halitus of freshly-shed blood +was in the air. Some way down the central vista was a little table of +white metal, laid with what seemed a meal. The Morlocks at any rate +were carnivorous! Even at the time, I remember wondering what large +animal could have survived to furnish the red joint I saw. It was all +very indistinct: the heavy smell, the big unmeaning shapes, the obscene +figures lurking in the shadows, and only waiting for the darkness to +come at me again! Then the match burnt down, and stung my fingers, and +fell, a wriggling red spot in the blackness. + +“I have thought since how particularly ill-equipped I was for such an +experience. When I had started with the Time Machine, I had started +with the absurd assumption that the men of the Future would certainly +be infinitely ahead of ourselves in all their appliances. I had come +without arms, without medicine, without anything to smoke—at times I +missed tobacco frightfully!—even without enough matches. If only I had +thought of a Kodak! I could have flashed that glimpse of the Underworld +in a second, and examined it at leisure. But, as it was, I stood there +with only the weapons and the powers that Nature had endowed me +with—hands, feet, and teeth; these, and four safety-matches that still +remained to me. + +“I was afraid to push my way in among all this machinery in the dark, +and it was only with my last glimpse of light I discovered that my +store of matches had run low. It had never occurred to me until that +moment that there was any need to economise them, and I had wasted +almost half the box in astonishing the Overworlders, to whom fire was a +novelty. Now, as I say, I had four left, and while I stood in the dark, +a hand touched mine, lank fingers came feeling over my face, and I was +sensible of a peculiar unpleasant odour. I fancied I heard the +breathing of a crowd of those dreadful little beings about me. I felt +the box of matches in my hand being gently disengaged, and other hands +behind me plucking at my clothing. The sense of these unseen creatures +examining me was indescribably unpleasant. The sudden realisation of my +ignorance of their ways of thinking and doing came home to me very +vividly in the darkness. I shouted at them as loudly as I could. They +started away, and then I could feel them approaching me again. They +clutched at me more boldly, whispering odd sounds to each other. I +shivered violently, and shouted again—rather discordantly. This time +they were not so seriously alarmed, and they made a queer laughing +noise as they came back at me. I will confess I was horribly +frightened. I determined to strike another match and escape under the +protection of its glare. I did so, and eking out the flicker with a +scrap of paper from my pocket, I made good my retreat to the narrow +tunnel. But I had scarce entered this when my light was blown out and +in the blackness I could hear the Morlocks rustling like wind among +leaves, and pattering like the rain, as they hurried after me. + +“In a moment I was clutched by several hands, and there was no +mistaking that they were trying to haul me back. I struck another +light, and waved it in their dazzled faces. You can scarce imagine how +nauseatingly inhuman they looked—those pale, chinless faces and great, +lidless, pinkish-grey eyes!—as they stared in their blindness and +bewilderment. But I did not stay to look, I promise you: I retreated +again, and when my second match had ended, I struck my third. It had +almost burnt through when I reached the opening into the shaft. I lay +down on the edge, for the throb of the great pump below made me giddy. +Then I felt sideways for the projecting hooks, and, as I did so, my +feet were grasped from behind, and I was violently tugged backward. I +lit my last match … and it incontinently went out. But I had my hand on +the climbing bars now, and, kicking violently, I disengaged myself from +the clutches of the Morlocks, and was speedily clambering up the shaft, +while they stayed peering and blinking up at me: all but one little +wretch who followed me for some way, and well-nigh secured my boot as a +trophy. + +“That climb seemed interminable to me. With the last twenty or thirty +feet of it a deadly nausea came upon me. I had the greatest difficulty +in keeping my hold. The last few yards was a frightful struggle against +this faintness. Several times my head swam, and I felt all the +sensations of falling. At last, however, I got over the well-mouth +somehow, and staggered out of the ruin into the blinding sunlight. I +fell upon my face. Even the soil smelt sweet and clean. Then I remember +Weena kissing my hands and ears, and the voices of others among the +Eloi. Then, for a time, I was insensible. + + + + + X. + When Night Came + + +“Now, indeed, I seemed in a worse case than before. Hitherto, except +during my night’s anguish at the loss of the Time Machine, I had felt a +sustaining hope of ultimate escape, but that hope was staggered by +these new discoveries. Hitherto I had merely thought myself impeded by +the childish simplicity of the little people, and by some unknown +forces which I had only to understand to overcome; but there was an +altogether new element in the sickening quality of the Morlocks—a +something inhuman and malign. Instinctively I loathed them. Before, I +had felt as a man might feel who had fallen into a pit: my concern was +with the pit and how to get out of it. Now I felt like a beast in a +trap, whose enemy would come upon him soon. + +“The enemy I dreaded may surprise you. It was the darkness of the new +moon. Weena had put this into my head by some at first incomprehensible +remarks about the Dark Nights. It was not now such a very difficult +problem to guess what the coming Dark Nights might mean. The moon was +on the wane: each night there was a longer interval of darkness. And I +now understood to some slight degree at least the reason of the fear of +the little Upperworld people for the dark. I wondered vaguely what foul +villainy it might be that the Morlocks did under the new moon. I felt +pretty sure now that my second hypothesis was all wrong. The Upperworld +people might once have been the favoured aristocracy, and the Morlocks +their mechanical servants: but that had long since passed away. The two +species that had resulted from the evolution of man were sliding down +towards, or had already arrived at, an altogether new relationship. The +Eloi, like the Carlovignan kings, had decayed to a mere beautiful +futility. They still possessed the earth on sufferance: since the +Morlocks, subterranean for innumerable generations, had come at last to +find the daylit surface intolerable. And the Morlocks made their +garments, I inferred, and maintained them in their habitual needs, +perhaps through the survival of an old habit of service. They did it as +a standing horse paws with his foot, or as a man enjoys killing animals +in sport: because ancient and departed necessities had impressed it on +the organism. But, clearly, the old order was already in part reversed. +The Nemesis of the delicate ones was creeping on apace. Ages ago, +thousands of generations ago, man had thrust his brother man out of the +ease and the sunshine. And now that brother was coming back—changed! +Already the Eloi had begun to learn one old lesson anew. They were +becoming reacquainted with Fear. And suddenly there came into my head +the memory of the meat I had seen in the Underworld. It seemed odd how +it floated into my mind: not stirred up as it were by the current of my +meditations, but coming in almost like a question from outside. I tried +to recall the form of it. I had a vague sense of something familiar, +but I could not tell what it was at the time. + +“Still, however helpless the little people in the presence of their +mysterious Fear, I was differently constituted. I came out of this age +of ours, this ripe prime of the human race, when Fear does not paralyse +and mystery has lost its terrors. I at least would defend myself. +Without further delay I determined to make myself arms and a fastness +where I might sleep. With that refuge as a base, I could face this +strange world with some of that confidence I had lost in realising to +what creatures night by night I lay exposed. I felt I could never sleep +again until my bed was secure from them. I shuddered with horror to +think how they must already have examined me. + +“I wandered during the afternoon along the valley of the Thames, but +found nothing that commended itself to my mind as inaccessible. All the +buildings and trees seemed easily practicable to such dexterous +climbers as the Morlocks, to judge by their wells, must be. Then the +tall pinnacles of the Palace of Green Porcelain and the polished gleam +of its walls came back to my memory; and in the evening, taking Weena +like a child upon my shoulder, I went up the hills towards the +south-west. The distance, I had reckoned, was seven or eight miles, but +it must have been nearer eighteen. I had first seen the place on a +moist afternoon when distances are deceptively diminished. In addition, +the heel of one of my shoes was loose, and a nail was working through +the sole—they were comfortable old shoes I wore about indoors—so that I +was lame. And it was already long past sunset when I came in sight of +the palace, silhouetted black against the pale yellow of the sky. + +“Weena had been hugely delighted when I began to carry her, but after a +while she desired me to let her down, and ran along by the side of me, +occasionally darting off on either hand to pick flowers to stick in my +pockets. My pockets had always puzzled Weena, but at the last she had +concluded that they were an eccentric kind of vases for floral +decoration. At least she utilised them for that purpose. And that +reminds me! In changing my jacket I found…” + +_The Time Traveller paused, put his hand into his pocket, and silently +placed two withered flowers, not unlike very large white mallows, upon +the little table. Then he resumed his narrative._ + +“As the hush of evening crept over the world and we proceeded over the +hill crest towards Wimbledon, Weena grew tired and wanted to return to +the house of grey stone. But I pointed out the distant pinnacles of the +Palace of Green Porcelain to her, and contrived to make her understand +that we were seeking a refuge there from her Fear. You know that great +pause that comes upon things before the dusk? Even the breeze stops in +the trees. To me there is always an air of expectation about that +evening stillness. The sky was clear, remote, and empty save for a few +horizontal bars far down in the sunset. Well, that night the +expectation took the colour of my fears. In that darkling calm my +senses seemed preternaturally sharpened. I fancied I could even feel +the hollowness of the ground beneath my feet: could, indeed, almost see +through it the Morlocks on their ant-hill going hither and thither and +waiting for the dark. In my excitement I fancied that they would +receive my invasion of their burrows as a declaration of war. And why +had they taken my Time Machine? + +“So we went on in the quiet, and the twilight deepened into night. The +clear blue of the distance faded, and one star after another came out. +The ground grew dim and the trees black. Weena’s fears and her fatigue +grew upon her. I took her in my arms and talked to her and caressed +her. Then, as the darkness grew deeper, she put her arms round my neck, +and, closing her eyes, tightly pressed her face against my shoulder. So +we went down a long slope into a valley, and there in the dimness I +almost walked into a little river. This I waded, and went up the +opposite side of the valley, past a number of sleeping houses, and by a +statue—a Faun, or some such figure, _minus_ the head. Here too were +acacias. So far I had seen nothing of the Morlocks, but it was yet +early in the night, and the darker hours before the old moon rose were +still to come. + +“From the brow of the next hill I saw a thick wood spreading wide and +black before me. I hesitated at this. I could see no end to it, either +to the right or the left. Feeling tired—my feet, in particular, were +very sore—I carefully lowered Weena from my shoulder as I halted, and +sat down upon the turf. I could no longer see the Palace of Green +Porcelain, and I was in doubt of my direction. I looked into the +thickness of the wood and thought of what it might hide. Under that +dense tangle of branches one would be out of sight of the stars. Even +were there no other lurking danger—a danger I did not care to let my +imagination loose upon—there would still be all the roots to stumble +over and the tree-boles to strike against. I was very tired, too, after +the excitements of the day; so I decided that I would not face it, but +would pass the night upon the open hill. + +“Weena, I was glad to find, was fast asleep. I carefully wrapped her in +my jacket, and sat down beside her to wait for the moonrise. The +hillside was quiet and deserted, but from the black of the wood there +came now and then a stir of living things. Above me shone the stars, +for the night was very clear. I felt a certain sense of friendly +comfort in their twinkling. All the old constellations had gone from +the sky, however: that slow movement which is imperceptible in a +hundred human lifetimes, had long since rearranged them in unfamiliar +groupings. But the Milky Way, it seemed to me, was still the same +tattered streamer of star-dust as of yore. Southward (as I judged it) +was a very bright red star that was new to me; it was even more +splendid than our own green Sirius. And amid all these scintillating +points of light one bright planet shone kindly and steadily like the +face of an old friend. + +“Looking at these stars suddenly dwarfed my own troubles and all the +gravities of terrestrial life. I thought of their unfathomable +distance, and the slow inevitable drift of their movements out of the +unknown past into the unknown future. I thought of the great +precessional cycle that the pole of the earth describes. Only forty +times had that silent revolution occurred during all the years that I +had traversed. And during these few revolutions all the activity, all +the traditions, the complex organisations, the nations, languages, +literatures, aspirations, even the mere memory of Man as I knew him, +had been swept out of existence. Instead were these frail creatures who +had forgotten their high ancestry, and the white Things of which I went +in terror. Then I thought of the Great Fear that was between the two +species, and for the first time, with a sudden shiver, came the clear +knowledge of what the meat I had seen might be. Yet it was too +horrible! I looked at little Weena sleeping beside me, her face white +and starlike under the stars, and forthwith dismissed the thought. + +“Through that long night I held my mind off the Morlocks as well as I +could, and whiled away the time by trying to fancy I could find signs +of the old constellations in the new confusion. The sky kept very +clear, except for a hazy cloud or so. No doubt I dozed at times. Then, +as my vigil wore on, came a faintness in the eastward sky, like the +reflection of some colourless fire, and the old moon rose, thin and +peaked and white. And close behind, and overtaking it, and overflowing +it, the dawn came, pale at first, and then growing pink and warm. No +Morlocks had approached us. Indeed, I had seen none upon the hill that +night. And in the confidence of renewed day it almost seemed to me that +my fear had been unreasonable. I stood up and found my foot with the +loose heel swollen at the ankle and painful under the heel; so I sat +down again, took off my shoes, and flung them away. + +“I awakened Weena, and we went down into the wood, now green and +pleasant instead of black and forbidding. We found some fruit wherewith +to break our fast. We soon met others of the dainty ones, laughing and +dancing in the sunlight as though there was no such thing in nature as +the night. And then I thought once more of the meat that I had seen. I +felt assured now of what it was, and from the bottom of my heart I +pitied this last feeble rill from the great flood of humanity. Clearly, +at some time in the Long-Ago of human decay the Morlocks’ food had run +short. Possibly they had lived on rats and such-like vermin. Even now +man is far less discriminating and exclusive in his food than he +was—far less than any monkey. His prejudice against human flesh is no +deep-seated instinct. And so these inhuman sons of men——! I tried to +look at the thing in a scientific spirit. After all, they were less +human and more remote than our cannibal ancestors of three or four +thousand years ago. And the intelligence that would have made this +state of things a torment had gone. Why should I trouble myself? These +Eloi were mere fatted cattle, which the ant-like Morlocks preserved and +preyed upon—probably saw to the breeding of. And there was Weena +dancing at my side! + +“Then I tried to preserve myself from the horror that was coming upon +me, by regarding it as a rigorous punishment of human selfishness. Man +had been content to live in ease and delight upon the labours of his +fellow-man, had taken Necessity as his watchword and excuse, and in the +fullness of time Necessity had come home to him. I even tried a +Carlyle-like scorn of this wretched aristocracy in decay. But this +attitude of mind was impossible. However great their intellectual +degradation, the Eloi had kept too much of the human form not to claim +my sympathy, and to make me perforce a sharer in their degradation and +their Fear. + +“I had at that time very vague ideas as to the course I should pursue. +My first was to secure some safe place of refuge, and to make myself +such arms of metal or stone as I could contrive. That necessity was +immediate. In the next place, I hoped to procure some means of fire, so +that I should have the weapon of a torch at hand, for nothing, I knew, +would be more efficient against these Morlocks. Then I wanted to +arrange some contrivance to break open the doors of bronze under the +White Sphinx. I had in mind a battering ram. I had a persuasion that if +I could enter those doors and carry a blaze of light before me I should +discover the Time Machine and escape. I could not imagine the Morlocks +were strong enough to move it far away. Weena I had resolved to bring +with me to our own time. And turning such schemes over in my mind I +pursued our way towards the building which my fancy had chosen as our +dwelling. + + + + + XI. + The Palace of Green Porcelain + + +“I found the Palace of Green Porcelain, when we approached it about +noon, deserted and falling into ruin. Only ragged vestiges of glass +remained in its windows, and great sheets of the green facing had +fallen away from the corroded metallic framework. It lay very high upon +a turfy down, and looking north-eastward before I entered it, I was +surprised to see a large estuary, or even creek, where I judged +Wandsworth and Battersea must once have been. I thought then—though I +never followed up the thought—of what might have happened, or might be +happening, to the living things in the sea. + +“The material of the Palace proved on examination to be indeed +porcelain, and along the face of it I saw an inscription in some +unknown character. I thought, rather foolishly, that Weena might help +me to interpret this, but I only learnt that the bare idea of writing +had never entered her head. She always seemed to me, I fancy, more +human than she was, perhaps because her affection was so human. + +“Within the big valves of the door—which were open and broken—we found, +instead of the customary hall, a long gallery lit by many side windows. +At the first glance I was reminded of a museum. The tiled floor was +thick with dust, and a remarkable array of miscellaneous objects was +shrouded in the same grey covering. Then I perceived, standing strange +and gaunt in the centre of the hall, what was clearly the lower part of +a huge skeleton. I recognised by the oblique feet that it was some +extinct creature after the fashion of the Megatherium. The skull and +the upper bones lay beside it in the thick dust, and in one place, +where rain-water had dropped through a leak in the roof, the thing +itself had been worn away. Further in the gallery was the huge skeleton +barrel of a Brontosaurus. My museum hypothesis was confirmed. Going +towards the side I found what appeared to be sloping shelves, and +clearing away the thick dust, I found the old familiar glass cases of +our own time. But they must have been air-tight to judge from the fair +preservation of some of their contents. + +“Clearly we stood among the ruins of some latter-day South Kensington! +Here, apparently, was the Palæontological Section, and a very splendid +array of fossils it must have been, though the inevitable process of +decay that had been staved off for a time, and had, through the +extinction of bacteria and fungi, lost ninety-nine hundredths of its +force, was nevertheless, with extreme sureness if with extreme slowness +at work again upon all its treasures. Here and there I found traces of +the little people in the shape of rare fossils broken to pieces or +threaded in strings upon reeds. And the cases had in some instances +been bodily removed—by the Morlocks, as I judged. The place was very +silent. The thick dust deadened our footsteps. Weena, who had been +rolling a sea urchin down the sloping glass of a case, presently came, +as I stared about me, and very quietly took my hand and stood beside +me. + +“And at first I was so much surprised by this ancient monument of an +intellectual age that I gave no thought to the possibilities it +presented. Even my preoccupation about the Time Machine receded a +little from my mind. + +“To judge from the size of the place, this Palace of Green Porcelain +had a great deal more in it than a Gallery of Palæontology; possibly +historical galleries; it might be, even a library! To me, at least in +my present circumstances, these would be vastly more interesting than +this spectacle of old-time geology in decay. Exploring, I found another +short gallery running transversely to the first. This appeared to be +devoted to minerals, and the sight of a block of sulphur set my mind +running on gunpowder. But I could find no saltpetre; indeed, no +nitrates of any kind. Doubtless they had deliquesced ages ago. Yet the +sulphur hung in my mind, and set up a train of thinking. As for the +rest of the contents of that gallery, though on the whole they were the +best preserved of all I saw, I had little interest. I am no specialist +in mineralogy, and I went on down a very ruinous aisle running parallel +to the first hall I had entered. Apparently this section had been +devoted to natural history, but everything had long since passed out of +recognition. A few shrivelled and blackened vestiges of what had once +been stuffed animals, desiccated mummies in jars that had once held +spirit, a brown dust of departed plants: that was all! I was sorry for +that, because I should have been glad to trace the patient +readjustments by which the conquest of animated nature had been +attained. Then we came to a gallery of simply colossal proportions, but +singularly ill-lit, the floor of it running downward at a slight angle +from the end at which I entered. At intervals white globes hung from +the ceiling—many of them cracked and smashed—which suggested that +originally the place had been artificially lit. Here I was more in my +element, for rising on either side of me were the huge bulks of big +machines, all greatly corroded and many broken down, but some still +fairly complete. You know I have a certain weakness for mechanism, and +I was inclined to linger among these; the more so as for the most part +they had the interest of puzzles, and I could make only the vaguest +guesses at what they were for. I fancied that if I could solve their +puzzles I should find myself in possession of powers that might be of +use against the Morlocks. + +“Suddenly Weena came very close to my side. So suddenly that she +startled me. Had it not been for her I do not think I should have +noticed that the floor of the gallery sloped at all. [Footnote: It may +be, of course, that the floor did not slope, but that the museum was +built into the side of a hill.—ED.] The end I had come in at was quite +above ground, and was lit by rare slit-like windows. As you went down +the length, the ground came up against these windows, until at last +there was a pit like the ‘area‘ of a London house before each, and only +a narrow line of daylight at the top. I went slowly along, puzzling +about the machines, and had been too intent upon them to notice the +gradual diminution of the light, until Weena’s increasing apprehensions +drew my attention. Then I saw that the gallery ran down at last into a +thick darkness. I hesitated, and then, as I looked round me, I saw that +the dust was less abundant and its surface less even. Further away +towards the dimness, it appeared to be broken by a number of small +narrow footprints. My sense of the immediate presence of the Morlocks +revived at that. I felt that I was wasting my time in the academic +examination of machinery. I called to mind that it was already far +advanced in the afternoon, and that I had still no weapon, no refuge, +and no means of making a fire. And then down in the remote blackness of +the gallery I heard a peculiar pattering, and the same odd noises I had +heard down the well. + +“I took Weena’s hand. Then, struck with a sudden idea, I left her and +turned to a machine from which projected a lever not unlike those in a +signal-box. Clambering upon the stand, and grasping this lever in my +hands, I put all my weight upon it sideways. Suddenly Weena, deserted +in the central aisle, began to whimper. I had judged the strength of +the lever pretty correctly, for it snapped after a minute’s strain, and +I rejoined her with a mace in my hand more than sufficient, I judged, +for any Morlock skull I might encounter. And I longed very much to kill +a Morlock or so. Very inhuman, you may think, to want to go killing +one’s own descendants! But it was impossible, somehow, to feel any +humanity in the things. Only my disinclination to leave Weena, and a +persuasion that if I began to slake my thirst for murder my Time +Machine might suffer, restrained me from going straight down the +gallery and killing the brutes I heard. + +“Well, mace in one hand and Weena in the other, I went out of that +gallery and into another and still larger one, which at the first +glance reminded me of a military chapel hung with tattered flags. The +brown and charred rags that hung from the sides of it, I presently +recognised as the decaying vestiges of books. They had long since +dropped to pieces, and every semblance of print had left them. But here +and there were warped boards and cracked metallic clasps that told the +tale well enough. Had I been a literary man I might, perhaps, have +moralised upon the futility of all ambition. But as it was, the thing +that struck me with keenest force was the enormous waste of labour to +which this sombre wilderness of rotting paper testified. At the time I +will confess that I thought chiefly of the _Philosophical Transactions_ +and my own seventeen papers upon physical optics. + +“Then, going up a broad staircase, we came to what may once have been a +gallery of technical chemistry. And here I had not a little hope of +useful discoveries. Except at one end where the roof had collapsed, +this gallery was well preserved. I went eagerly to every unbroken case. +And at last, in one of the really air-tight cases, I found a box of +matches. Very eagerly I tried them. They were perfectly good. They were +not even damp. I turned to Weena. ‘Dance,’ I cried to her in her own +tongue. For now I had a weapon indeed against the horrible creatures we +feared. And so, in that derelict museum, upon the thick soft carpeting +of dust, to Weena’s huge delight, I solemnly performed a kind of +composite dance, whistling _The Land of the Leal_ as cheerfully as I +could. In part it was a modest _cancan_, in part a step dance, in part +a skirt dance (so far as my tail-coat permitted), and in part original. +For I am naturally inventive, as you know. + +“Now, I still think that for this box of matches to have escaped the +wear of time for immemorial years was a most strange, as for me it was +a most fortunate, thing. Yet, oddly enough, I found a far unlikelier +substance, and that was camphor. I found it in a sealed jar, that by +chance, I suppose, had been really hermetically sealed. I fancied at +first that it was paraffin wax, and smashed the glass accordingly. But +the odour of camphor was unmistakable. In the universal decay this +volatile substance had chanced to survive, perhaps through many +thousands of centuries. It reminded me of a sepia painting I had once +seen done from the ink of a fossil Belemnite that must have perished +and become fossilised millions of years ago. I was about to throw it +away, but I remembered that it was inflammable and burnt with a good +bright flame—was, in fact, an excellent candle—and I put it in my +pocket. I found no explosives, however, nor any means of breaking down +the bronze doors. As yet my iron crowbar was the most helpful thing I +had chanced upon. Nevertheless I left that gallery greatly elated. + +“I cannot tell you all the story of that long afternoon. It would +require a great effort of memory to recall my explorations in at all +the proper order. I remember a long gallery of rusting stands of arms, +and how I hesitated between my crowbar and a hatchet or a sword. I +could not carry both, however, and my bar of iron promised best against +the bronze gates. There were numbers of guns, pistols, and rifles. The +most were masses of rust, but many were of some new metal, and still +fairly sound. But any cartridges or powder there may once have been had +rotted into dust. One corner I saw was charred and shattered; perhaps, +I thought, by an explosion among the specimens. In another place was a +vast array of idols—Polynesian, Mexican, Grecian, Phœnician, every +country on earth, I should think. And here, yielding to an irresistible +impulse, I wrote my name upon the nose of a steatite monster from South +America that particularly took my fancy. + +“As the evening drew on, my interest waned. I went through gallery +after gallery, dusty, silent, often ruinous, the exhibits sometimes +mere heaps of rust and lignite, sometimes fresher. In one place I +suddenly found myself near the model of a tin mine, and then by the +merest accident I discovered, in an air-tight case, two dynamite +cartridges! I shouted ‘Eureka!’ and smashed the case with joy. Then +came a doubt. I hesitated. Then, selecting a little side gallery, I +made my essay. I never felt such a disappointment as I did in waiting +five, ten, fifteen minutes for an explosion that never came. Of course +the things were dummies, as I might have guessed from their presence. I +really believe that had they not been so, I should have rushed off +incontinently and blown Sphinx, bronze doors, and (as it proved) my +chances of finding the Time Machine, all together into non-existence. + +“It was after that, I think, that we came to a little open court within +the palace. It was turfed, and had three fruit-trees. So we rested and +refreshed ourselves. Towards sunset I began to consider our position. +Night was creeping upon us, and my inaccessible hiding-place had still +to be found. But that troubled me very little now. I had in my +possession a thing that was, perhaps, the best of all defences against +the Morlocks—I had matches! I had the camphor in my pocket, too, if a +blaze were needed. It seemed to me that the best thing we could do +would be to pass the night in the open, protected by a fire. In the +morning there was the getting of the Time Machine. Towards that, as +yet, I had only my iron mace. But now, with my growing knowledge, I +felt very differently towards those bronze doors. Up to this, I had +refrained from forcing them, largely because of the mystery on the +other side. They had never impressed me as being very strong, and I +hoped to find my bar of iron not altogether inadequate for the work. + + + + + XII. + In the Darkness + + +“We emerged from the Palace while the sun was still in part above the +horizon. I was determined to reach the White Sphinx early the next +morning, and ere the dusk I purposed pushing through the woods that had +stopped me on the previous journey. My plan was to go as far as +possible that night, and then, building a fire, to sleep in the +protection of its glare. Accordingly, as we went along I gathered any +sticks or dried grass I saw, and presently had my arms full of such +litter. Thus loaded, our progress was slower than I had anticipated, +and besides Weena was tired. And I, also, began to suffer from +sleepiness too; so that it was full night before we reached the wood. +Upon the shrubby hill of its edge Weena would have stopped, fearing the +darkness before us; but a singular sense of impending calamity, that +should indeed have served me as a warning, drove me onward. I had been +without sleep for a night and two days, and I was feverish and +irritable. I felt sleep coming upon me, and the Morlocks with it. + +“While we hesitated, among the black bushes behind us, and dim against +their blackness, I saw three crouching figures. There was scrub and +long grass all about us, and I did not feel safe from their insidious +approach. The forest, I calculated, was rather less than a mile across. +If we could get through it to the bare hillside, there, as it seemed to +me, was an altogether safer resting-place; I thought that with my +matches and my camphor I could contrive to keep my path illuminated +through the woods. Yet it was evident that if I was to flourish matches +with my hands I should have to abandon my firewood; so, rather +reluctantly, I put it down. And then it came into my head that I would +amaze our friends behind by lighting it. I was to discover the +atrocious folly of this proceeding, but it came to my mind as an +ingenious move for covering our retreat. + +“I don’t know if you have ever thought what a rare thing flame must be +in the absence of man and in a temperate climate. The sun’s heat is +rarely strong enough to burn, even when it is focused by dewdrops, as +is sometimes the case in more tropical districts. Lightning may blast +and blacken, but it rarely gives rise to widespread fire. Decaying +vegetation may occasionally smoulder with the heat of its fermentation, +but this rarely results in flame. In this decadence, too, the art of +fire-making had been forgotten on the earth. The red tongues that went +licking up my heap of wood were an altogether new and strange thing to +Weena. + +“She wanted to run to it and play with it. I believe she would have +cast herself into it had I not restrained her. But I caught her up, and +in spite of her struggles, plunged boldly before me into the wood. For +a little way the glare of my fire lit the path. Looking back presently, +I could see, through the crowded stems, that from my heap of sticks the +blaze had spread to some bushes adjacent, and a curved line of fire was +creeping up the grass of the hill. I laughed at that, and turned again +to the dark trees before me. It was very black, and Weena clung to me +convulsively, but there was still, as my eyes grew accustomed to the +darkness, sufficient light for me to avoid the stems. Overhead it was +simply black, except where a gap of remote blue sky shone down upon us +here and there. I lit none of my matches because I had no hand free. +Upon my left arm I carried my little one, in my right hand I had my +iron bar. + +“For some way I heard nothing but the crackling twigs under my feet, +the faint rustle of the breeze above, and my own breathing and the +throb of the blood-vessels in my ears. Then I seemed to know of a +pattering behind me. I pushed on grimly. The pattering grew more +distinct, and then I caught the same queer sound and voices I had heard +in the Underworld. There were evidently several of the Morlocks, and +they were closing in upon me. Indeed, in another minute I felt a tug at +my coat, then something at my arm. And Weena shivered violently, and +became quite still. + +“It was time for a match. But to get one I must put her down. I did so, +and, as I fumbled with my pocket, a struggle began in the darkness +about my knees, perfectly silent on her part and with the same peculiar +cooing sounds from the Morlocks. Soft little hands, too, were creeping +over my coat and back, touching even my neck. Then the match scratched +and fizzed. I held it flaring, and saw the white backs of the Morlocks +in flight amid the trees. I hastily took a lump of camphor from my +pocket, and prepared to light it as soon as the match should wane. Then +I looked at Weena. She was lying clutching my feet and quite +motionless, with her face to the ground. With a sudden fright I stooped +to her. She seemed scarcely to breathe. I lit the block of camphor and +flung it to the ground, and as it split and flared up and drove back +the Morlocks and the shadows, I knelt down and lifted her. The wood +behind seemed full of the stir and murmur of a great company! + +“She seemed to have fainted. I put her carefully upon my shoulder and +rose to push on, and then there came a horrible realisation. In +manœuvring with my matches and Weena, I had turned myself about several +times, and now I had not the faintest idea in what direction lay my +path. For all I knew, I might be facing back towards the Palace of +Green Porcelain. I found myself in a cold sweat. I had to think rapidly +what to do. I determined to build a fire and encamp where we were. I +put Weena, still motionless, down upon a turfy bole, and very hastily, +as my first lump of camphor waned, I began collecting sticks and +leaves. Here and there out of the darkness round me the Morlocks’ eyes +shone like carbuncles. + +“The camphor flickered and went out. I lit a match, and as I did so, +two white forms that had been approaching Weena dashed hastily away. +One was so blinded by the light that he came straight for me, and I +felt his bones grind under the blow of my fist. He gave a whoop of +dismay, staggered a little way, and fell down. I lit another piece of +camphor, and went on gathering my bonfire. Presently I noticed how dry +was some of the foliage above me, for since my arrival on the Time +Machine, a matter of a week, no rain had fallen. So, instead of casting +about among the trees for fallen twigs, I began leaping up and dragging +down branches. Very soon I had a choking smoky fire of green wood and +dry sticks, and could economise my camphor. Then I turned to where +Weena lay beside my iron mace. I tried what I could to revive her, but +she lay like one dead. I could not even satisfy myself whether or not +she breathed. + +“Now, the smoke of the fire beat over towards me, and it must have made +me heavy of a sudden. Moreover, the vapour of camphor was in the air. +My fire would not need replenishing for an hour or so. I felt very +weary after my exertion, and sat down. The wood, too, was full of a +slumbrous murmur that I did not understand. I seemed just to nod and +open my eyes. But all was dark, and the Morlocks had their hands upon +me. Flinging off their clinging fingers I hastily felt in my pocket for +the match-box, and—it had gone! Then they gripped and closed with me +again. In a moment I knew what had happened. I had slept, and my fire +had gone out, and the bitterness of death came over my soul. The forest +seemed full of the smell of burning wood. I was caught by the neck, by +the hair, by the arms, and pulled down. It was indescribably horrible +in the darkness to feel all these soft creatures heaped upon me. I felt +as if I was in a monstrous spider’s web. I was overpowered, and went +down. I felt little teeth nipping at my neck. I rolled over, and as I +did so my hand came against my iron lever. It gave me strength. I +struggled up, shaking the human rats from me, and, holding the bar +short, I thrust where I judged their faces might be. I could feel the +succulent giving of flesh and bone under my blows, and for a moment I +was free. + +“The strange exultation that so often seems to accompany hard fighting +came upon me. I knew that both I and Weena were lost, but I determined +to make the Morlocks pay for their meat. I stood with my back to a +tree, swinging the iron bar before me. The whole wood was full of the +stir and cries of them. A minute passed. Their voices seemed to rise to +a higher pitch of excitement, and their movements grew faster. Yet none +came within reach. I stood glaring at the blackness. Then suddenly came +hope. What if the Morlocks were afraid? And close on the heels of that +came a strange thing. The darkness seemed to grow luminous. Very dimly +I began to see the Morlocks about me—three battered at my feet—and then +I recognised, with incredulous surprise, that the others were running, +in an incessant stream, as it seemed, from behind me, and away through +the wood in front. And their backs seemed no longer white, but reddish. +As I stood agape, I saw a little red spark go drifting across a gap of +starlight between the branches, and vanish. And at that I understood +the smell of burning wood, the slumbrous murmur that was growing now +into a gusty roar, the red glow, and the Morlocks’ flight. + +“Stepping out from behind my tree and looking back, I saw, through the +black pillars of the nearer trees, the flames of the burning forest. It +was my first fire coming after me. With that I looked for Weena, but +she was gone. The hissing and crackling behind me, the explosive thud +as each fresh tree burst into flame, left little time for reflection. +My iron bar still gripped, I followed in the Morlocks’ path. It was a +close race. Once the flames crept forward so swiftly on my right as I +ran that I was outflanked and had to strike off to the left. But at +last I emerged upon a small open space, and as I did so, a Morlock came +blundering towards me, and past me, and went on straight into the fire! + +“And now I was to see the most weird and horrible thing, I think, of +all that I beheld in that future age. This whole space was as bright as +day with the reflection of the fire. In the centre was a hillock or +tumulus, surmounted by a scorched hawthorn. Beyond this was another arm +of the burning forest, with yellow tongues already writhing from it, +completely encircling the space with a fence of fire. Upon the hillside +were some thirty or forty Morlocks, dazzled by the light and heat, and +blundering hither and thither against each other in their bewilderment. +At first I did not realise their blindness, and struck furiously at +them with my bar, in a frenzy of fear, as they approached me, killing +one and crippling several more. But when I had watched the gestures of +one of them groping under the hawthorn against the red sky, and heard +their moans, I was assured of their absolute helplessness and misery in +the glare, and I struck no more of them. + +“Yet every now and then one would come straight towards me, setting +loose a quivering horror that made me quick to elude him. At one time +the flames died down somewhat, and I feared the foul creatures would +presently be able to see me. I was thinking of beginning the fight by +killing some of them before this should happen; but the fire burst out +again brightly, and I stayed my hand. I walked about the hill among +them and avoided them, looking for some trace of Weena. But Weena was +gone. + +“At last I sat down on the summit of the hillock, and watched this +strange incredible company of blind things groping to and fro, and +making uncanny noises to each other, as the glare of the fire beat on +them. The coiling uprush of smoke streamed across the sky, and through +the rare tatters of that red canopy, remote as though they belonged to +another universe, shone the little stars. Two or three Morlocks came +blundering into me, and I drove them off with blows of my fists, +trembling as I did so. + +“For the most part of that night I was persuaded it was a nightmare. I +bit myself and screamed in a passionate desire to awake. I beat the +ground with my hands, and got up and sat down again, and wandered here +and there, and again sat down. Then I would fall to rubbing my eyes and +calling upon God to let me awake. Thrice I saw Morlocks put their heads +down in a kind of agony and rush into the flames. But, at last, above +the subsiding red of the fire, above the streaming masses of black +smoke and the whitening and blackening tree stumps, and the diminishing +numbers of these dim creatures, came the white light of the day. + +“I searched again for traces of Weena, but there were none. It was +plain that they had left her poor little body in the forest. I cannot +describe how it relieved me to think that it had escaped the awful fate +to which it seemed destined. As I thought of that, I was almost moved +to begin a massacre of the helpless abominations about me, but I +contained myself. The hillock, as I have said, was a kind of island in +the forest. From its summit I could now make out through a haze of +smoke the Palace of Green Porcelain, and from that I could get my +bearings for the White Sphinx. And so, leaving the remnant of these +damned souls still going hither and thither and moaning, as the day +grew clearer, I tied some grass about my feet and limped on across +smoking ashes and among black stems that still pulsated internally with +fire, towards the hiding-place of the Time Machine. I walked slowly, +for I was almost exhausted, as well as lame, and I felt the intensest +wretchedness for the horrible death of little Weena. It seemed an +overwhelming calamity. Now, in this old familiar room, it is more like +the sorrow of a dream than an actual loss. But that morning it left me +absolutely lonely again—terribly alone. I began to think of this house +of mine, of this fireside, of some of you, and with such thoughts came +a longing that was pain. + +“But, as I walked over the smoking ashes under the bright morning sky, +I made a discovery. In my trouser pocket were still some loose matches. +The box must have leaked before it was lost. + + + + + XIII. + The Trap of the White Sphinx + + +“About eight or nine in the morning I came to the same seat of yellow +metal from which I had viewed the world upon the evening of my arrival. +I thought of my hasty conclusions upon that evening and could not +refrain from laughing bitterly at my confidence. Here was the same +beautiful scene, the same abundant foliage, the same splendid palaces +and magnificent ruins, the same silver river running between its +fertile banks. The gay robes of the beautiful people moved hither and +thither among the trees. Some were bathing in exactly the place where I +had saved Weena, and that suddenly gave me a keen stab of pain. And +like blots upon the landscape rose the cupolas above the ways to the +Underworld. I understood now what all the beauty of the Overworld +people covered. Very pleasant was their day, as pleasant as the day of +the cattle in the field. Like the cattle, they knew of no enemies and +provided against no needs. And their end was the same. + +“I grieved to think how brief the dream of the human intellect had +been. It had committed suicide. It had set itself steadfastly towards +comfort and ease, a balanced society with security and permanency as +its watchword, it had attained its hopes—to come to this at last. Once, +life and property must have reached almost absolute safety. The rich +had been assured of his wealth and comfort, the toiler assured of his +life and work. No doubt in that perfect world there had been no +unemployed problem, no social question left unsolved. And a great quiet +had followed. + +“It is a law of nature we overlook, that intellectual versatility is +the compensation for change, danger, and trouble. An animal perfectly +in harmony with its environment is a perfect mechanism. Nature never +appeals to intelligence until habit and instinct are useless. There is +no intelligence where there is no change and no need of change. Only +those animals partake of intelligence that have to meet a huge variety +of needs and dangers. + +“So, as I see it, the Upperworld man had drifted towards his feeble +prettiness, and the Underworld to mere mechanical industry. But that +perfect state had lacked one thing even for mechanical +perfection—absolute permanency. Apparently as time went on, the feeding +of an Underworld, however it was effected, had become disjointed. +Mother Necessity, who had been staved off for a few thousand years, +came back again, and she began below. The Underworld being in contact +with machinery, which, however perfect, still needs some little thought +outside habit, had probably retained perforce rather more initiative, +if less of every other human character, than the Upper. And when other +meat failed them, they turned to what old habit had hitherto forbidden. +So I say I saw it in my last view of the world of Eight Hundred and Two +Thousand Seven Hundred and One. It may be as wrong an explanation as +mortal wit could invent. It is how the thing shaped itself to me, and +as that I give it to you. + +“After the fatigues, excitements, and terrors of the past days, and in +spite of my grief, this seat and the tranquil view and the warm +sunlight were very pleasant. I was very tired and sleepy, and soon my +theorising passed into dozing. Catching myself at that, I took my own +hint, and spreading myself out upon the turf I had a long and +refreshing sleep. + +“I awoke a little before sunsetting. I now felt safe against being +caught napping by the Morlocks, and, stretching myself, I came on down +the hill towards the White Sphinx. I had my crowbar in one hand, and +the other hand played with the matches in my pocket. + +“And now came a most unexpected thing. As I approached the pedestal of +the sphinx I found the bronze valves were open. They had slid down into +grooves. + +“At that I stopped short before them, hesitating to enter. + +“Within was a small apartment, and on a raised place in the corner of +this was the Time Machine. I had the small levers in my pocket. So +here, after all my elaborate preparations for the siege of the White +Sphinx, was a meek surrender. I threw my iron bar away, almost sorry +not to use it. + +“A sudden thought came into my head as I stooped towards the portal. +For once, at least, I grasped the mental operations of the Morlocks. +Suppressing a strong inclination to laugh, I stepped through the bronze +frame and up to the Time Machine. I was surprised to find it had been +carefully oiled and cleaned. I have suspected since that the Morlocks +had even partially taken it to pieces while trying in their dim way to +grasp its purpose. + +“Now as I stood and examined it, finding a pleasure in the mere touch +of the contrivance, the thing I had expected happened. The bronze +panels suddenly slid up and struck the frame with a clang. I was in the +dark—trapped. So the Morlocks thought. At that I chuckled gleefully. + +“I could already hear their murmuring laughter as they came towards me. +Very calmly I tried to strike the match. I had only to fix on the +levers and depart then like a ghost. But I had overlooked one little +thing. The matches were of that abominable kind that light only on the +box. + +“You may imagine how all my calm vanished. The little brutes were close +upon me. One touched me. I made a sweeping blow in the dark at them +with the levers, and began to scramble into the saddle of the machine. +Then came one hand upon me and then another. Then I had simply to fight +against their persistent fingers for my levers, and at the same time +feel for the studs over which these fitted. One, indeed, they almost +got away from me. As it slipped from my hand, I had to butt in the dark +with my head—I could hear the Morlock’s skull ring—to recover it. It +was a nearer thing than the fight in the forest, I think, this last +scramble. + +“But at last the lever was fixed and pulled over. The clinging hands +slipped from me. The darkness presently fell from my eyes. I found +myself in the same grey light and tumult I have already described. + + + + + XIV. + The Further Vision + + +“I have already told you of the sickness and confusion that comes with +time travelling. And this time I was not seated properly in the saddle, +but sideways and in an unstable fashion. For an indefinite time I clung +to the machine as it swayed and vibrated, quite unheeding how I went, +and when I brought myself to look at the dials again I was amazed to +find where I had arrived. One dial records days, and another thousands +of days, another millions of days, and another thousands of millions. +Now, instead of reversing the levers, I had pulled them over so as to +go forward with them, and when I came to look at these indicators I +found that the thousands hand was sweeping round as fast as the seconds +hand of a watch—into futurity. + +“As I drove on, a peculiar change crept over the appearance of things. +The palpitating greyness grew darker; then—though I was still +travelling with prodigious velocity—the blinking succession of day and +night, which was usually indicative of a slower pace, returned, and +grew more and more marked. This puzzled me very much at first. The +alternations of night and day grew slower and slower, and so did the +passage of the sun across the sky, until they seemed to stretch through +centuries. At last a steady twilight brooded over the earth, a twilight +only broken now and then when a comet glared across the darkling sky. +The band of light that had indicated the sun had long since +disappeared; for the sun had ceased to set—it simply rose and fell in +the west, and grew ever broader and more red. All trace of the moon had +vanished. The circling of the stars, growing slower and slower, had +given place to creeping points of light. At last, some time before I +stopped, the sun, red and very large, halted motionless upon the +horizon, a vast dome glowing with a dull heat, and now and then +suffering a momentary extinction. At one time it had for a little while +glowed more brilliantly again, but it speedily reverted to its sullen +red heat. I perceived by this slowing down of its rising and setting +that the work of the tidal drag was done. The earth had come to rest +with one face to the sun, even as in our own time the moon faces the +earth. Very cautiously, for I remembered my former headlong fall, I +began to reverse my motion. Slower and slower went the circling hands +until the thousands one seemed motionless and the daily one was no +longer a mere mist upon its scale. Still slower, until the dim outlines +of a desolate beach grew visible. + +“I stopped very gently and sat upon the Time Machine, looking round. +The sky was no longer blue. North-eastward it was inky black, and out +of the blackness shone brightly and steadily the pale white stars. +Overhead it was a deep Indian red and starless, and south-eastward it +grew brighter to a glowing scarlet where, cut by the horizon, lay the +huge hull of the sun, red and motionless. The rocks about me were of a +harsh reddish colour, and all the trace of life that I could see at +first was the intensely green vegetation that covered every projecting +point on their south-eastern face. It was the same rich green that one +sees on forest moss or on the lichen in caves: plants which like these +grow in a perpetual twilight. + +“The machine was standing on a sloping beach. The sea stretched away to +the south-west, to rise into a sharp bright horizon against the wan +sky. There were no breakers and no waves, for not a breath of wind was +stirring. Only a slight oily swell rose and fell like a gentle +breathing, and showed that the eternal sea was still moving and living. +And along the margin where the water sometimes broke was a thick +incrustation of salt—pink under the lurid sky. There was a sense of +oppression in my head, and I noticed that I was breathing very fast. +The sensation reminded me of my only experience of mountaineering, and +from that I judged the air to be more rarefied than it is now. + +“Far away up the desolate slope I heard a harsh scream, and saw a thing +like a huge white butterfly go slanting and fluttering up into the sky +and, circling, disappear over some low hillocks beyond. The sound of +its voice was so dismal that I shivered and seated myself more firmly +upon the machine. Looking round me again, I saw that, quite near, what +I had taken to be a reddish mass of rock was moving slowly towards me. +Then I saw the thing was really a monstrous crab-like creature. Can you +imagine a crab as large as yonder table, with its many legs moving +slowly and uncertainly, its big claws swaying, its long antennæ, like +carters’ whips, waving and feeling, and its stalked eyes gleaming at +you on either side of its metallic front? Its back was corrugated and +ornamented with ungainly bosses, and a greenish incrustation blotched +it here and there. I could see the many palps of its complicated mouth +flickering and feeling as it moved. + +“As I stared at this sinister apparition crawling towards me, I felt a +tickling on my cheek as though a fly had lighted there. I tried to +brush it away with my hand, but in a moment it returned, and almost +immediately came another by my ear. I struck at this, and caught +something threadlike. It was drawn swiftly out of my hand. With a +frightful qualm, I turned, and I saw that I had grasped the antenna of +another monster crab that stood just behind me. Its evil eyes were +wriggling on their stalks, its mouth was all alive with appetite, and +its vast ungainly claws, smeared with an algal slime, were descending +upon me. In a moment my hand was on the lever, and I had placed a month +between myself and these monsters. But I was still on the same beach, +and I saw them distinctly now as soon as I stopped. Dozens of them +seemed to be crawling here and there, in the sombre light, among the +foliated sheets of intense green. + +“I cannot convey the sense of abominable desolation that hung over the +world. The red eastern sky, the northward blackness, the salt Dead Sea, +the stony beach crawling with these foul, slow-stirring monsters, the +uniform poisonous-looking green of the lichenous plants, the thin air +that hurts one’s lungs: all contributed to an appalling effect. I moved +on a hundred years, and there was the same red sun—a little larger, a +little duller—the same dying sea, the same chill air, and the same +crowd of earthy crustacea creeping in and out among the green weed and +the red rocks. And in the westward sky, I saw a curved pale line like a +vast new moon. + +“So I travelled, stopping ever and again, in great strides of a +thousand years or more, drawn on by the mystery of the earth’s fate, +watching with a strange fascination the sun grow larger and duller in +the westward sky, and the life of the old earth ebb away. At last, more +than thirty million years hence, the huge red-hot dome of the sun had +come to obscure nearly a tenth part of the darkling heavens. Then I +stopped once more, for the crawling multitude of crabs had disappeared, +and the red beach, save for its livid green liverworts and lichens, +seemed lifeless. And now it was flecked with white. A bitter cold +assailed me. Rare white flakes ever and again came eddying down. To the +north-eastward, the glare of snow lay under the starlight of the sable +sky, and I could see an undulating crest of hillocks pinkish white. +There were fringes of ice along the sea margin, with drifting masses +farther out; but the main expanse of that salt ocean, all bloody under +the eternal sunset, was still unfrozen. + +“I looked about me to see if any traces of animal life remained. A +certain indefinable apprehension still kept me in the saddle of the +machine. But I saw nothing moving, in earth or sky or sea. The green +slime on the rocks alone testified that life was not extinct. A shallow +sandbank had appeared in the sea and the water had receded from the +beach. I fancied I saw some black object flopping about upon this bank, +but it became motionless as I looked at it, and I judged that my eye +had been deceived, and that the black object was merely a rock. The +stars in the sky were intensely bright and seemed to me to twinkle very +little. + +“Suddenly I noticed that the circular westward outline of the sun had +changed; that a concavity, a bay, had appeared in the curve. I saw this +grow larger. For a minute perhaps I stared aghast at this blackness +that was creeping over the day, and then I realised that an eclipse was +beginning. Either the moon or the planet Mercury was passing across the +sun’s disk. Naturally, at first I took it to be the moon, but there is +much to incline me to believe that what I really saw was the transit of +an inner planet passing very near to the earth. + +“The darkness grew apace; a cold wind began to blow in freshening gusts +from the east, and the showering white flakes in the air increased in +number. From the edge of the sea came a ripple and whisper. Beyond +these lifeless sounds the world was silent. Silent? It would be hard to +convey the stillness of it. All the sounds of man, the bleating of +sheep, the cries of birds, the hum of insects, the stir that makes the +background of our lives—all that was over. As the darkness thickened, +the eddying flakes grew more abundant, dancing before my eyes; and the +cold of the air more intense. At last, one by one, swiftly, one after +the other, the white peaks of the distant hills vanished into +blackness. The breeze rose to a moaning wind. I saw the black central +shadow of the eclipse sweeping towards me. In another moment the pale +stars alone were visible. All else was rayless obscurity. The sky was +absolutely black. + +“A horror of this great darkness came on me. The cold, that smote to my +marrow, and the pain I felt in breathing, overcame me. I shivered, and +a deadly nausea seized me. Then like a red-hot bow in the sky appeared +the edge of the sun. I got off the machine to recover myself. I felt +giddy and incapable of facing the return journey. As I stood sick and +confused I saw again the moving thing upon the shoal—there was no +mistake now that it was a moving thing—against the red water of the +sea. It was a round thing, the size of a football perhaps, or, it may +be, bigger, and tentacles trailed down from it; it seemed black against +the weltering blood-red water, and it was hopping fitfully about. Then +I felt I was fainting. But a terrible dread of lying helpless in that +remote and awful twilight sustained me while I clambered upon the +saddle. + + + + + XV. + The Time Traveller’s Return + + +“So I came back. For a long time I must have been insensible upon the +machine. The blinking succession of the days and nights was resumed, +the sun got golden again, the sky blue. I breathed with greater +freedom. The fluctuating contours of the land ebbed and flowed. The +hands spun backward upon the dials. At last I saw again the dim shadows +of houses, the evidences of decadent humanity. These, too, changed and +passed, and others came. Presently, when the million dial was at zero, +I slackened speed. I began to recognise our own pretty and familiar +architecture, the thousands hand ran back to the starting-point, the +night and day flapped slower and slower. Then the old walls of the +laboratory came round me. Very gently, now, I slowed the mechanism +down. + +“I saw one little thing that seemed odd to me. I think I have told you +that when I set out, before my velocity became very high, Mrs. Watchett +had walked across the room, travelling, as it seemed to me, like a +rocket. As I returned, I passed again across that minute when she +traversed the laboratory. But now her every motion appeared to be the +exact inversion of her previous ones. The door at the lower end opened, +and she glided quietly up the laboratory, back foremost, and +disappeared behind the door by which she had previously entered. Just +before that I seemed to see Hillyer for a moment; but he passed like a +flash. + +“Then I stopped the machine, and saw about me again the old familiar +laboratory, my tools, my appliances just as I had left them. I got off +the thing very shakily, and sat down upon my bench. For several minutes +I trembled violently. Then I became calmer. Around me was my old +workshop again, exactly as it had been. I might have slept there, and +the whole thing have been a dream. + +“And yet, not exactly! The thing had started from the south-east corner +of the laboratory. It had come to rest again in the north-west, against +the wall where you saw it. That gives you the exact distance from my +little lawn to the pedestal of the White Sphinx, into which the +Morlocks had carried my machine. + +“For a time my brain went stagnant. Presently I got up and came through +the passage here, limping, because my heel was still painful, and +feeling sorely begrimed. I saw the _Pall Mall Gazette_ on the table by +the door. I found the date was indeed today, and looking at the +timepiece, saw the hour was almost eight o’clock. I heard your voices +and the clatter of plates. I hesitated—I felt so sick and weak. Then I +sniffed good wholesome meat, and opened the door on you. You know the +rest. I washed, and dined, and now I am telling you the story. + + + + + XVI. + After the Story + + +“I know,” he said, after a pause, “that all this will be absolutely +incredible to you, but to me the one incredible thing is that I am here +tonight in this old familiar room looking into your friendly faces and +telling you these strange adventures.” He looked at the Medical Man. +“No. I cannot expect you to believe it. Take it as a lie—or a prophecy. +Say I dreamed it in the workshop. Consider I have been speculating upon +the destinies of our race, until I have hatched this fiction. Treat my +assertion of its truth as a mere stroke of art to enhance its interest. +And taking it as a story, what do you think of it?” + +He took up his pipe, and began, in his old accustomed manner, to tap +with it nervously upon the bars of the grate. There was a momentary +stillness. Then chairs began to creak and shoes to scrape upon the +carpet. I took my eyes off the Time Traveller’s face, and looked round +at his audience. They were in the dark, and little spots of colour swam +before them. The Medical Man seemed absorbed in the contemplation of +our host. The Editor was looking hard at the end of his cigar—the +sixth. The Journalist fumbled for his watch. The others, as far as I +remember, were motionless. + +The Editor stood up with a sigh. “What a pity it is you’re not a writer +of stories!” he said, putting his hand on the Time Traveller’s +shoulder. + +“You don’t believe it?” + +“Well——” + +“I thought not.” + +The Time Traveller turned to us. “Where are the matches?” he said. He +lit one and spoke over his pipe, puffing. “To tell you the truth... I +hardly believe it myself..... And yet...” + +His eye fell with a mute inquiry upon the withered white flowers upon +the little table. Then he turned over the hand holding his pipe, and I +saw he was looking at some half-healed scars on his knuckles. + +The Medical Man rose, came to the lamp, and examined the flowers. “The +gynæceum’s odd,” he said. The Psychologist leant forward to see, +holding out his hand for a specimen. + +“I’m hanged if it isn’t a quarter to one,” said the Journalist. “How +shall we get home?” + +“Plenty of cabs at the station,” said the Psychologist. + +“It’s a curious thing,” said the Medical Man; “but I certainly don’t +know the natural order of these flowers. May I have them?” + +The Time Traveller hesitated. Then suddenly: “Certainly not.” + +“Where did you really get them?” said the Medical Man. + +The Time Traveller put his hand to his head. He spoke like one who was +trying to keep hold of an idea that eluded him. “They were put into my +pocket by Weena, when I travelled into Time.” He stared round the room. +“I’m damned if it isn’t all going. This room and you and the atmosphere +of every day is too much for my memory. Did I ever make a Time Machine, +or a model of a Time Machine? Or is it all only a dream? They say life +is a dream, a precious poor dream at times—but I can’t stand another +that won’t fit. It’s madness. And where did the dream come from? … I +must look at that machine. If there is one!” + +He caught up the lamp swiftly, and carried it, flaring red, through the +door into the corridor. We followed him. There in the flickering light +of the lamp was the machine sure enough, squat, ugly, and askew, a +thing of brass, ebony, ivory, and translucent glimmering quartz. Solid +to the touch—for I put out my hand and felt the rail of it—and with +brown spots and smears upon the ivory, and bits of grass and moss upon +the lower parts, and one rail bent awry. + +The Time Traveller put the lamp down on the bench, and ran his hand +along the damaged rail. “It’s all right now,” he said. “The story I +told you was true. I’m sorry to have brought you out here in the cold.” +He took up the lamp, and, in an absolute silence, we returned to the +smoking-room. + +He came into the hall with us and helped the Editor on with his coat. +The Medical Man looked into his face and, with a certain hesitation, +told him he was suffering from overwork, at which he laughed hugely. I +remember him standing in the open doorway, bawling good-night. + +I shared a cab with the Editor. He thought the tale a “gaudy lie.” For +my own part I was unable to come to a conclusion. The story was so +fantastic and incredible, the telling so credible and sober. I lay +awake most of the night thinking about it. I determined to go next day +and see the Time Traveller again. I was told he was in the laboratory, +and being on easy terms in the house, I went up to him. The laboratory, +however, was empty. I stared for a minute at the Time Machine and put +out my hand and touched the lever. At that the squat +substantial-looking mass swayed like a bough shaken by the wind. Its +instability startled me extremely, and I had a queer reminiscence of +the childish days when I used to be forbidden to meddle. I came back +through the corridor. The Time Traveller met me in the smoking-room. He +was coming from the house. He had a small camera under one arm and a +knapsack under the other. He laughed when he saw me, and gave me an +elbow to shake. “I’m frightfully busy,” said he, “with that thing in +there.” + +“But is it not some hoax?” I said. “Do you really travel through time?” + +“Really and truly I do.” And he looked frankly into my eyes. He +hesitated. His eye wandered about the room. “I only want half an hour,” +he said. “I know why you came, and it’s awfully good of you. There’s +some magazines here. If you’ll stop to lunch I’ll prove you this time +travelling up to the hilt, specimens and all. If you’ll forgive my +leaving you now?” + +I consented, hardly comprehending then the full import of his words, +and he nodded and went on down the corridor. I heard the door of the +laboratory slam, seated myself in a chair, and took up a daily paper. +What was he going to do before lunch-time? Then suddenly I was reminded +by an advertisement that I had promised to meet Richardson, the +publisher, at two. I looked at my watch, and saw that I could barely +save that engagement. I got up and went down the passage to tell the +Time Traveller. + +As I took hold of the handle of the door I heard an exclamation, oddly +truncated at the end, and a click and a thud. A gust of air whirled +round me as I opened the door, and from within came the sound of broken +glass falling on the floor. The Time Traveller was not there. I seemed +to see a ghostly, indistinct figure sitting in a whirling mass of black +and brass for a moment—a figure so transparent that the bench behind +with its sheets of drawings was absolutely distinct; but this phantasm +vanished as I rubbed my eyes. The Time Machine had gone. Save for a +subsiding stir of dust, the further end of the laboratory was empty. A +pane of the skylight had, apparently, just been blown in. + +I felt an unreasonable amazement. I knew that something strange had +happened, and for the moment could not distinguish what the strange +thing might be. As I stood staring, the door into the garden opened, +and the man-servant appeared. + +We looked at each other. Then ideas began to come. “Has Mr. —— gone out +that way?” said I. + +“No, sir. No one has come out this way. I was expecting to find him +here.” + +At that I understood. At the risk of disappointing Richardson I stayed +on, waiting for the Time Traveller; waiting for the second, perhaps +still stranger story, and the specimens and photographs he would bring +with him. But I am beginning now to fear that I must wait a lifetime. +The Time Traveller vanished three years ago. And, as everybody knows +now, he has never returned. + + + + + Epilogue + + +One cannot choose but wonder. Will he ever return? It may be that he +swept back into the past, and fell among the blood-drinking, hairy +savages of the Age of Unpolished Stone; into the abysses of the +Cretaceous Sea; or among the grotesque saurians, the huge reptilian +brutes of the Jurassic times. He may even now—if I may use the +phrase—be wandering on some plesiosaurus-haunted Oolitic coral reef, or +beside the lonely saline seas of the Triassic Age. Or did he go +forward, into one of the nearer ages, in which men are still men, but +with the riddles of our own time answered and its wearisome problems +solved? Into the manhood of the race: for I, for my own part, cannot +think that these latter days of weak experiment, fragmentary theory, +and mutual discord are indeed man’s culminating time! I say, for my own +part. He, I know—for the question had been discussed among us long +before the Time Machine was made—thought but cheerlessly of the +Advancement of Mankind, and saw in the growing pile of civilisation +only a foolish heaping that must inevitably fall back upon and destroy +its makers in the end. If that is so, it remains for us to live as +though it were not so. But to me the future is still black and blank—is +a vast ignorance, lit at a few casual places by the memory of his +story. And I have by me, for my comfort, two strange white +flowers—shrivelled now, and brown and flat and brittle—to witness that +even when mind and strength had gone, gratitude and a mutual tenderness +still lived on in the heart of man. \ No newline at end of file