Now, all our lines are
_equally_ 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.
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