1.Explore how Wells presents mankind’s response to the Martians and their invasion in this extract and elsewhere in the novel.

“It is; I’ve thought it out. Very well, then—next; at present we’re caught as we’re wanted. A

Martian has only to go a few miles to get a crowd on the run. And I saw one, one day, out by

Wandsworth, picking houses to pieces and routing among the wreckage. But they won’t keep on

doing that. So soon as they’ve settled all our guns and ships, and smashed our railways, and done

all the things they are doing over there, they will begin catching us systematic, picking the best

and storing us in cages and things. That’s what they will start doing in a bit. Lord! They haven’t

begun on us yet. Don’t you see that?”

“Not begun!” I exclaimed.

“Not begun. All that’s happened so far is through our not having the sense to keep quiet—

worrying them with guns and such foolery. And losing our heads, and rushing off in crowds to

where there wasn’t any more safety ly that’s why the cylinders have stopped for a bit, for fear of

hitting those who are here. And in than where we were. They don’t want to bother us yet. They’re

making their things—making all the things they couldn’t bring with them, getting things ready for

the rest of their people. Very likestead of our rushing about blind, on the howl, or getting

dynamite on the chance of busting them up, we’ve got to fix ourselves up according to the new

state of affairs. That’s how I figure it out. It isn’t quite according to what a man wants for his

species, but it’s about what the facts point to. And that’s the principle I acted upon. Cities,

nations, civilisation, progress—it’s all over. That game’s up. We’re beat.”

“But if that is so, what is there to live for?”

The artilleryman looked at me for a moment.

“There won’t be any more blessed concerts for a million years or so; there won’t be any Royal

Academy of Arts, and no nice little feeds at restaurants. If it’s amusement you’re after, I reckon

the game is up. If you’ve got any drawing-room manners or a dislike to eating peas with a knife

or dropping aitches, you’d better chuck ’em away. They ain’t no further use.”

“You mean——”

“I mean that men like me are going on living—for the sake of the breed. I tell you, I’m grim set

on living. And if I’m not mistaken, you’ll show what insides you’ve got, too, before long. We aren’t

going to be exterminated. And I don’t mean to be caught either, and tamed and fattened and

bred like a thundering ox. Ugh! Fancy those brown creepers!”

“You don’t mean to say——”

“I do. I’m going on, under their feet. I’ve got it planned; I’ve thought it out. We men are beat.

We don’t know enough. We’ve got to learn before we’ve got a chance. And we’ve got to live and

keep independent while we learn. See! That’s what has to be done.”

I stared, astonished, and stirred profoundly by the man’s resolution.

“Great God!” cried I. “But you are a man indeed!” And suddenly I gripped his hand.

“Eh!” he said, with his eyes shining. “I’ve thought it out, eh?”

“Go on,” I said.​