The Time Machine — EN

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 real­ized 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 off-spring are secure, there is less neces­si­ty – indeed there is no neces­si­ty – for an effi­cient fam­i­ly, and the spe­cial­iza­tion 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 rec­og­nize, 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 real­ize 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 civ­i­liz­ing 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 orga­nized, 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 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 leaped. 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 civ­i­lized 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!

queer kwɪə adj Devi­at­ing from the cus­tom­ary: strange, curi­ous, odd, pecu­liar, sin­gu­lar, quaint, weird

to come to ⇒ To begin to.

dis­re­gard ˌdɪs­rɪˈgɑːd v To pay no atten­tion to: ignore, snub, cut

chat­ter ˈʧætə v To talk con­tin­u­ous­ly in a fast infor­mal way, usu­al­ly about unim­por­tant sub­jects.

ges­tic­u­late ʤɛsˈtɪkjʊleɪt v To make ges­tures espe­cial­ly while speak­ing, as for empha­sis.

to leave some­one to his own devices ⇒ To let some­one do what­ev­er one can/wants.

sum­mit ˈsʌmɪt n The high­est point: peak, crown, cli­max, pin­na­cle, acme

crest krɛst n The top, as of a hill or wave; the high­est point.

ruinous ˈrʊɪnəs adj Caus­ing ruin or destruc­tion: destruc­tive, fatal, dis­as­trous, cat­a­stroph­ic

splen­dour ˈsplɛndə n A refined qual­i­ty of grace­ful­ness and good taste: ele­gance, mag­nif­i­cence

heap hiːp n A large, dis­or­dered pile of things: pile

gran­ite ˈgrænɪt n A usu­al­ly light-col­ored, coarse-grained igneous rock com­posed most­ly of quartz, feldspar, and mica, one of the most com­mon rocks in the crust of con­ti­nents.

labyrinth ˈlæbərɪnθ n Some­thing that is intri­cate­ly and often bewil­der­ing­ly com­plex: knot, maze, web, snarl

pre­cip­i­tous prɪˈsɪpɪtəs adj Very sharply inclined: bold, abrupt, sheer, steep, ardu­ous, pre­cip­i­tate

crum­pled ˈkrʌm­pld adj Pressed or squeezed so that it is no longer flat or smooth: crushed, wrin­kled, creased, ruf­fled

pago­da-like ⇒ Look­ing like a reli­gious build­ing of the Far East erect­ed as a memo­r­i­al or shrine.

net­tle ˈnɛtl n A tall plant with point­ed leaves and small hairs that sting if you touch them.

tint tɪnt v Colour light­ly.

sting stɪŋ v To pierce or wound painful­ly with a sharp-point­ed struc­ture or organ, as that of cer­tain insects or plants.

derelict ˈdɛrɪlɪkt adj Hav­ing been giv­en up and left alone: aban­doned, desert­ed, run-down

to what end ⇒ with what pur­pose.

des­tined ˈdɛstɪnd adj Seem­ing cer­tain to hap­pen at some time in the future.

inti­ma­tion ˌɪn­tɪˈmeɪʃən n An indi­rect sug­ges­tion or sign that some­thing is like­ly to hap­pen or be true.

on the heels of ⇒ Fol­low­ing close behind or soon after some­one or some­thing.

vis­age ˈvɪzɪʤ n A per­son­’s face, with ref­er­ence to the form or pro­por­tions of the fea­tures.

girl­ish ˈgɜːlɪʃ adj Char­ac­ter­is­tic of or befit­ting a girl.

rotun­di­ty rəʊˈtʌndɪti n Round­ness, plump­ness.

to be alike ⇒ To be like one anoth­er.

but ⇒ (archa­ic) only.

pre­co­cious prɪˈkəʊʃəs adj Devel­op­ing before the expect­ed time: ear­ly, pre­ma­ture, untime­ly

after all ⇒ in spite of all.

dif­fer­en­ti­a­tion ˌdɪfərɛnʃɪˈeɪʃən n Dis­crim­i­na­tion between things as dif­fer­ent and dis­tinct.

mil­i­tant ˈmɪlɪtənt adj Inclined to act in a hos­tile way: aggres­sive, bel­liger­ent, com­bat­ive

child­bear­ing ˈʧaɪldˌbeərɪŋ n The process of giv­ing birth to babies.

off­spring ˈɒf­sprɪŋ n Group con­sist­ing of those descend­ed direct­ly from the same par­ents or ances­tors: issue, pos­ter­i­ty, descen­dants

at the time ⇒ At a par­tic­u­lar moment in the past; then.

to fall short of some­thing ⇒ To go far from; fail to reach or obtain.

to muse on/upon/over ⇒ To think/pore over, to pon­der.

cupo­la ˈkjuːpələ n Domed roof or ceil­ing.

tran­si­to­ry ˈtræn­sɪtəri adj Last­ing only for a short time: tempo­rary, momen­tary, ephemer­al, short-lived, fleet­ing

to push on ⇒ To go for­ward in a deter­mined way.

cor­rode kəˈrəʊd v To con­sume grad­u­al­ly, as by chem­i­cal reac­tion, fric­tion, etc: wear, wear away, gnaw, erode, fret

rust rʌst n Pow­dery red­dish-brown coat­ing formed on iron in the pres­ence of water.

smoth­er ˈsmʌðə v To sti­fle or kill by depriv­ing of air: suf­fo­cate

arm-rests ⇒ Objects for sup­port of the arms (on chairs etc.).

grif­fin ˈgrɪfɪn n Fab­u­lous beast with the head and wings of an eagle and the body of a lion.

to be touched with some colour ⇒ To have some colour tint.

crim­son ˈkrɪmzn n Deep to vivid pur­plish red to vivid red colour.

bur­nish ˈbɜːnɪʃ v To make smooth or glossy by rub­bing: pol­ish

var­ie­gat­ed ˈveərɪgeɪtɪd n Var­ied in appear­ance, as by hav­ing dif­fer­ent col­ors, forms, shapes, etc.

green­ery ˈgriːnəri n Green foliage; ver­dure.

obelisk ˈɒbɪlɪsk n Tall, four-sided shaft of stone that ris­es to a point.

hedge hɛʤ n A row of shrubs or small trees that are plant­ed close to each oth­er in order to form a bound­ary.

pro­pri­etary prəˈpraɪətəri n Some­thing owned, espe­cial­ly real estate.

facet ˈfæsɪt n The par­tic­u­lar angle from which some­thing is con­sid­ered: side, aspect

to hap­pen on ⇒ To come upon.

on/upon the wane ⇒ becom­ing less.

rud­dy ˈrʌ­di adj Of a red­dish colour: rosy, florid, bloom­ing, glow­ing

to set some­one think­ing ⇒ To pro­voke some­one to start think­ing about.

fee­ble­ness ˈfiːblnəs The state of being weak in health or body, espe­cial­ly from old age: infir­mi­ty, frailty, debil­i­ty

ame­lio­rate əˈmiːliəreɪt v To advance to a more desir­able state: improve, amend, bet­ter, upgrade

to go to a cli­max ⇒ To move towards the high­est point of.

har­vest ˈhɑːvɪst n Some­thing brought about by a cause: result, effect, con­se­quence, out­come, after­math

san­i­ta­tion ˌsænɪˈteɪʃən n Appli­ca­tion of mea­sures designed to pro­tect pub­lic health.

rudi­men­ta­ry ˌruːdɪˈmɛn­təri adj Being in the ear­li­est stages of devel­op­ment: ele­men­tary

hor­ti­cul­ture ˈhɔːtɪkʌlʧə n Grow­ing flow­ers, fruit and veg­eta­bles.

here and there ⇒ in var­i­ous places.

score skɔː n A group of 20 things.

or so ⇒ (of quan­ti­ties) Impre­cise but fair­ly close to.

peach piːʧ n A soft, juicy, edi­ble fruit that has downy yel­low or red­dish skin and a sin­gle large rough stone.

vague veɪg adj Not clear­ly per­cep­ti­ble: faint, dim, obscure, hazy, misty, bleary, cloudy, unclear

ten­ta­tive ˈtɛn­tətɪv adj Hes­i­tant or unsure.

clum­sy ˈklʌmzi adj Lack­ing phys­i­cal coor­di­na­tion, skill, or grace: awk­ward

the drift of the cur­rent ⇒ The slow part of the oth­er­wise fast-mov­ing water.

eddy ˈɛdi n Cir­cu­lar or spi­ral move­ment: whirl

sub­ju­ga­tion ˌsʌbʤʊˈgeɪʃən n Sub­jec­tion, enslave­ment.

in the end ⇒ final­ly.

gnat næt n Mall, bit­ing, two-winged fly.

fun­gus ˈfʌŋgəs pl fun­gi ˈfʌŋ­gaɪ n Flower with­out leaves etc. grow­ing on oth­er plants or decay­ing mat­ter.

hith­er and thith­er ⇒ To many places; here and there.

pre­ven­tive prɪˈvɛn­tɪv adj Used to stop some­thing bad from hap­pen­ing.

attain əˈteɪn v To gain as an objec­tive: achieve

to stamp out ⇒ To destroy or end some­thing.

con­ta­gious kənˈteɪʤəs adv Car­ry­ing or capa­ble of spread­ing a dis­ease.

putre­fac­tion ˌpjuːtrɪˈfækʃən n The con­di­tion of being decayed: decom­po­si­tion, decay, spoilage, rot

decay dɪˈkeɪ n Grad­ual dete­ri­o­ra­tion to an infe­ri­or state; a falling into ruin.

splen­did ˈsplɛndɪd adj Bril­liant or fine, esp in appear­ance: excel­lent, won­der­ful, mar­vel­lous

toil tɔɪl v Work that is dif­fi­cult and unpleas­ant and that lasts for a long time: hard work, labor

vigour ˈvɪgə n The qual­i­ty of being phys­i­cal­ly strong: pow­er, strength, might, poten­cy

to go to the wall ⇒ To be defeat­ed.

to put a pre­mi­um on ⇒ To encour­age, to fos­ter.

restraint rɪsˈtreɪnt n A con­di­tion of being con­fined or deprived of lib­er­ty.

there­in ðeərˈɪn adv In that place; in that cir­cum­stance.

jeal­ousy ˈʤɛləsi n A feel­ing of iri­ta­tion and upset because you think some­one who you love is in love to some­one else.

off­spring ˈɒf­sprɪŋ n Someone’s child or chil­dren.

devo­tion dɪˈvəʊʃən n Great love, inter­est, care and sup­port for some­body or some­thing

jus­ti­fi­ca­tion ˌʤʌstɪfɪˈkeɪʃən n A rea­son for some­thing.

immi­nent ˈɪmɪnənt adj Some­thing that is like­ly to hap­pen very soon.

con­nu­bial kəˈn­juːbiəl adj Relat­ing to mar­riage or the mar­ried state: con­ju­gal

dis­cord ˈdɪskɔːd v Lack of con­cord or har­mo­ny between per­sons or things:: dif­fi­cul­ty, con­flict, fric­tion, clash, strife

slight­ness ˈslaɪt­nəs n Instance of treat­ing some­one as unim­por­tant: small­ness

con­quest ˈkɒŋk­wɛst v The act or process of gain­ing con­trol of or sub­due by mil­i­tary force: win, sub­ju­ga­tion, vic­to­ry, suc­cess, defeat

vital­i­ty vaɪˈtælɪti n The abil­i­ty to sur­vive and grow.

under the new con­di­tions ⇒ in the new state or sit­u­a­tion of.

hin­drance ˈhɪn­drəns n Any­thing that impedes: bar­ri­er, obsta­cle, imped­i­ment, obstruc­tion

out of place ⇒ unsuit­able.

soli­tary ˈsɒlɪtəri adj Being the only one; sin­gle and iso­lat­ed from oth­ers: lone, lone­some, only, sole

fret frɛt v To be anx­ious or wor­ried: fuss, nig­gle

out­let ˈaʊtlɛt n Means of release for ener­gies, dri­ves, or desires.

exquis­ite ˈɛk­skwɪzɪt adj Of spe­cial beau­ty or charm.

surge sɜːʤ v To emit in abun­dance: pour, rush, flow, well, gush

to set­tle down ⇒ To become calm.

flour­ish ˈflʌrɪʃ v To grow or devel­op well.

it takes to ⇒ it leads to.

eroti­cism ɪˈrɒtɪsɪzm n An erot­ic theme; sex­u­al excite­ment.

lan­guor ˈlæŋgə n Defi­cien­cy in men­tal and phys­i­cal activ­i­ty: lethar­gy, stu­por, tor­por, lan­guid­ness

impe­tus ˈɪm­pɪtəs A force that sets a body in motion: incen­tive, push, spur, moti­va­tion

at last ⇒ After a long wait; final­ly.

adorn əˈdɔːn v To lend beau­ty to; to fur­nish with dec­o­ra­tions: dec­o­rate, grace, dress, orna­ment, deck, embell­ish

we are kept keen on the grind­stone of pain and neces­si­ty ⇒ we are forced to live in pain and neces­si­ty; grind­stone ˈgraɪnd­stəʊn n Revolv­ing stone disk used for grind­ing, pol­ish­ing, or sharp­en­ing tools; a mill­stone.

grind­stone ˈgraɪnd­stəʊn n Revolv­ing stone disk used for grind­ing, pol­ish­ing, or sharp­en­ing tools; a mill­stone.

sta­tion­ary ˈsteɪʃnəri adj Firm­ly in posi­tion: fixed, immo­bile, stead­fast, unmov­ing

to account for ⇒ To give an expla­na­tion of.

plau­si­ble ˈplɔːzəbl n Appar­ent­ly rea­son­able and cred­i­ble, and there­fore con­vinc­ing: believ­able.

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