Onecannotchoosebutwonder. Willheeverreturn? Itmaybethathesweptbackintothepast,andfellamongtheblood-drinking,hairysavagesoftheAgeofUnpolishedStone; intotheabyssesoftheCretaceousSea; oramongthegrotesquesaurians,thehugereptilianbrutesoftheJurassictimes. Hemayevennow—ifImayusethephrase—bewanderingonsomeplesiosaurus-hauntedOoliticcoralreef,orbesidethelonelysalinelakesoftheTriassicAge. Ordidhegoforward,intooneofthenearerages,inwhichmenarestillmen,butwiththeriddlesofourowntimeansweredanditswearisomeproblemssolved? Intothemanhoodoftherace:forI,formyownpartcannotthinkthattheselatterdaysofweakexperiment,fragmentarytheory,andmutualdiscordareindeedman’sculminatingtime! Isay,formyownpart. He,Iknow—forthequestionhadbeendiscussedamonguslongbeforetheTimeMachinewasmade—thoughtbutcheerlesslyoftheAdvancementofMankind, andsawinthegrowingpileofcivilizationonlyafoolishheapingthatmustinevitablyfallbackuponanddestroyitsmakersintheend. Ifthatisso,itremainsforustoliveasthoughitwerenotso. Buttomethefutureisstillblackandblank—isavastignorance,litatafewcasualplacesbythememoryofhisstory. AndIhavebyme,formycomfort,twostrangewhiteflowers—shrivellednow,andbrownandflatandbrittle—towitnessthatevenwhenmindandstrengthhadgone,gratitudeandamutualtendernessstilllivedonintheheartofman.