Flatland: A Romance of Many DimensionsAbbott, Edwin Abbott
Science
Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions
Abbott, Edwin Abbott
Fourth dimension
Throughout the previous pages I have been assuming—what perhaps should
have been laid down at the beginning as a distinct and fundamental
proposition—that every human being in Flatland is a Regular Figure, that
is to say of regular construction. By this I mean that a Woman must not
only be a line, but a straight line; that an Artisan or Soldier must have
two of his sides equal; that Tradesmen must have three sides equal;
Lawyers (of which class I am a humble member), four sides equal, and,
generally, that in every Polygon, all the sides must be equal.
The size of the sides would of course depend upon the age of the
individual. A Female at birth would be about an inch long, while a tall
adult Woman might extend to a foot. As to the Males of every class, it
may be roughly said that the length of an adult’s sides, when added
together, is three feet or a little more. But the size of our sides is
not under consideration. I am speaking of the _equality_ of sides, and it
does not need much reflection to see that the whole of the social life in
Flatland rests upon the fundamental fact that Nature wills all Figures to
have their sides equal.
If our sides were unequal our angles would be unequal. Instead of its
being sufficient to feel, or estimate by sight, a single angle in order
to determine the form of an individual, it would be necessary to
ascertain each angle by the experiment of Feeling. But life would be too
short for such a tedious groping. The whole science and art of Sight
Recognition would at once perish; Feeling, so far as it is an art, would
not long survive; intercourse would become perilous or impossible; there
would be an end to all confidence, all forethought; no one would be safe
in making the most simple social arrangements; in a word, civilization
would relapse into barbarism.
Am I going too fast to carry my Readers with me to these obvious
conclusions? Surely a moment’s reflection, and a single instance from
common life, must convince every one that our whole social system is
based upon Regularity, or Equality of Angles. You meet, for example, two
or three Tradesmen in the street, whom you recognize at once to be
Tradesmen by a glance at their angles and rapidly bedimmed sides, and you
ask them to step into your house to lunch. This you do at present with
perfect confidence, because every one knows to an inch or two the area
occupied by an adult Triangle: but imagine that your Tradesman drags
behind his regular and respectable vertex, a parallelogram of twelve or
thirteen inches in diagonal:—what are you to do with such a monster
sticking fast in your house door?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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