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“O day and night, but this is wondrous strange”
LONDON
SEELEY & Co, ESSEX STREET, STRAND
Price Half-aCrown
“And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.”
A Romance of Many Dimensions
With Illustrations by the Author, A SQUARE
“Fie, fie, how franticly I square my talk!”
Edwin A. Abbott (A Square)
Executive Editor Sam Vaseghi
The 21st Century’s Special Vintage Reproduction 1°
Published by Chiron Academic Press – Sweden
In collaboration with Editorial l’Aleph (www.l-aleph.com)
ISBN 978-91-7637-024-7
Chiron Academic Press is a Wisehouse Imprint.
© Wisehouse 2015 – Sweden
© Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photographing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher
To
The Inhabitants of SPACE IN GENERAL
And H. C. IN PARTICULAR
This Work is Dedicated
By a Humble Native of Flatland
In the Hope that
Even as he was Initiated into the Mysteries
Of THREE DIMENSIONS
Having been previously conversant
With ONLY TWO
So the Citizens of that Celestial Region
May aspire yet higher and higher
To the Secrets of FOUR FIVE OR EVEN SIX Dimensions
Thereby contributing
To the Enlargement of THE IMAGINATION
And the possible Development
Of that most rare and excellent Gift of MODESTY
Among the Superior Races
Of SOLID HUMANITY
Preface to the Second and Revised Edition, 1884
by the Editor1
IF MY POOR FLATLAND FRIEND retained the vigour of mind which he enjoyed when he began to compose these Memoirs, I should not now need to represent him in this preface, in which he desires, firstly, to return his thanks to his readers and critics in Spaceland, whose appreciation has, with unexpected celerity, required a second edition of his work; secondly, to apologize for certain errors and misprints (for which, however, he is not entirely responsible); and, thirdly, to explain one or two misconceptions. But he is not the Square he once was. Years of imprisonment, and the still heavier burden of general incredulity and mockery, have combined with the natural decay of old age to erase from his mind many of the thoughts and notions, and much also of the terminology, which he acquired during his short stay in Spaceland. He has, therefore, requested me to reply in his behalf to two special objections, one of an intellectual, the other of a moral nature.
The first objection is, that a Flatlander, seeing a Line, sees something that must be thick to the eye as well as long to the eye (otherwise it would not be visible, if it had not some thickness); and consequently he ought (it is argued) to acknowledge that his countrymen are not only long and broad, but also (though doubtless in a very slight degree) THICK or HIGH. This objection is plausible, and, to Spacelanders, almost irresistible, so that, I confess, when I first heard it, I knew not what to reply. But my poor old friend’s answer appears to me completely to meet it.
“I admit,” said he—when I mentioned to him this objection—“I admit the truth of your critic’s facts, but I deny his conclusions. It is true that we have really in Flatland a Third unrecognized Dimension called ‘height’, just as it is also true that you have really in Spaceland a Fourth unrecognized Dimension, called by no name at present, but which I will call ‘extra-height’. But we can no more take cognizance of our ‘height’ than you can of your ‘extra-height’. Even I—who have been in Spaceland, and have had the privilege of understanding for twenty-four hours the meaning of ‘height’—even I cannot now comprehend it, nor realize it by the sense of sight or by any process of reason; I can but apprehend it by faith.
“The reason is obvious. Dimension implies direction, implies measurement, implies the more and the less. Now, all our lines are equality and infinitesimally thick (or high, whichever you like); consequently, there is nothing in them to lead our minds to the conception of that Dimension. No ‘delicate micrometer’—as has been suggested by one too hasty Spaceland critic—would in the least avail us; for we should not know what to measure, nor in what direction. When we see a Line, we see something that is long and bright; brightness, as well as length, is necessary to the existence of a Line; if the brightness vanishes, the Line is extinguished. Hence, all my Flatland friends—when I talk to them about the unrecognized Dimension which is somehow visible in a Line—say, ‘Ah, you mean brightness: and when I reply, ‘No, I mean a real Dimension’, they at once retort, ‘Then measure it, or tell us in what direction it extends’; and this silences me, for I can do neither. Only yesterday, when the Chief Circle (in other words our High Priest) came to inspect the State Prison and paid me his seventh annual visit, and when for the seventh time he put me the question, ‘Was I any better?’ I tried to prove to him that he was ‘high’, as well as long and broad, although he did not know it. But what was his reply? ‘You
