Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (50 page)

"So,
as
I
see
it,
the
Upper-world
man
had
drifted
towards
his
feeble prettiness,
and
the
Under-world
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
the
Under-world,
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
Under-world
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.