Flatland: A Romance of Many DimensionsAbbott, Edwin Abbott
Science
Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions
Abbott, Edwin Abbott
Fourth dimension
_I_. Most illustrious Sir, excuse my awkwardness, which arises not from
ignorance of the usages of polite society, but from a little surprise
and nervousness, consequent on this somewhat unexpected visit. And I
beseech you to reveal my indiscretion to no one, and especially not to
my Wife. But before your Lordship enters into further communications,
would he deign to satisfy the curiosity of one who would gladly know
whence his visitor came?
_Stranger_. From Space, from Space, Sir: whence else?
_I_. Pardon me, my Lord, but is not your Lordship already in Space,
your Lordship and his humble servant, even at this moment?
_Stranger_. Pooh! what do you know of Space? Define Space.
_I_. Space, my Lord, is height and breadth indefinitely prolonged.
_Stranger_. Exactly: you see you do not even know what Space is. You
think it is of Two Dimensions only; but I have come to announce to you
a Third—height, breadth, and length.
_I_. Your Lordship is pleased to be merry. We also speak of length and
height, or breadth and thickness, thus denoting Two Dimensions by four
names.
_Stranger_. But I mean not only three names, but Three Dimensions.
_I_. Would your Lordship indicate or explain to me in what direction is
the Third Dimension, unknown to me?
_Stranger_. I came from it. It is up above and down below.
_I_. My Lord means seemingly that it is Northward and Southward.
_Stranger_. I mean nothing of the kind. I mean a direction in which you
cannot look, because you have no eye in your side.
_I_. Pardon me, my Lord, a moment’s inspection will convince your
Lordship that I have a perfectly luminary at the juncture of my two
sides.
_Stranger_. Yes: but in order to see into Space you ought to have an
eye, not on your Perimeter, but on your side, that is, on what you
would probably call your inside; but we in Spaceland should call it
your side.
_I_. An eye in my inside! An eye in my stomach! Your Lordship jests.
_Stranger_. I am in no jesting humour. I tell you that I come from
Space, or, since you will not understand what Space means, from the
Land of Three Dimensions whence I but lately looked down upon your
Plane which you call Space forsooth. From that position of advantage I
discerned all that you speak of as _solid_ (by which you mean “enclosed
on four sides”), your houses, your churches, your very chests and
safes, yes even your insides and stomachs, all lying open and exposed
to my view.
_I_. Such assertions are easily made, my Lord.
_Stranger_. But not easily proved, you mean. But I mean to prove mine.
When I descended here, I saw your four Sons, the Pentagons, each in his
apartment, and your two Grandsons the Hexagons; I saw your youngest
Hexagon remain a while with you and then retire to his room, leaving
you and your Wife alone. I saw your Isosceles servants, three in
number, in the kitchen at supper, and the little Page in the scullery.
Then I came here, and how do you think I came?
_I_. Through the roof, I suppose.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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