Edwin Abbott Abbott

Edwin Abbott Abbott (1838-1926) was an English clergyman, schoolmaster, Shakespearean scholar, and theologian best known as the author of the 1884 satirical novella Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions. Written pseudonymously as "A Square," the book used the fictional two-dimensional world of Flatland to parody the puritanical hierarchy and rigid stratification of Victorian culture, especially the low status of women.An underground favorite since its publication, inspiring many novel sequels and films, the story's most enduring contribution is its examination of dimensions, which introduced aspects of relativity and hyperspace years before Einstein published his famous theories. An illuminating mathematical treatise, Flatland has experienced a revival in popularity, especially among sci-fi and cyberpunk fans, due to its sharp social satire and challenge to our most basic perceptions of everyday reality "that seems to have been written for today."

Reprint of the original, first published in 1883.

Reprint of the original, first published in 1883.

I am more pained than surprised to infer from your last letter that your faith has received a severeshock. A single term at the University has sufficed to make you doubt whether you retain a belief inmiracles; and "If miracles fall, the Bible falls; and with the fall of the Bible I lose Christ; and if Imust regard Christ as a fanatic, I do not see how I can believe in a God who suffered such a one asChrist thus to be deceived and to deceive others." Such appear to be the thoughts that are passingthrough your mind, as I infer them from incidental and indirect expressions rather than from anydefinite statement.Unfortunately I understand all this too well not to be able to follow with ease such phases ofdisbelief even when conveyed in hints. Many young men begin by being taught to believe too much, a great deal too much. Then, when they find they must give up something, (the husk of the kernel)their teachers too often bid them swallow husk and all, on pain of swallowing nothing: and theyprefer to swallow nothing. An instance of this at once occurs to me. Many years ago, a young manwho wished to be ordained, asked me to read the Old Testament with him. We set to work at onceand read some miraculous history-I forget precisely what-in which I thought my young friendmust needs see a difficulty. So I began to point out how the difficulty might be at least diminishedby critical considerations. I say "I began": for I stopped as soon as I had begun, finding that myfriend saw no difficulty at all. He accepted every miracle on every page of the Old and NewTestament on the authority of the Bible; just as a Roman Catholic accepts every ecclesiasticaldoctrine on the authority of the Church. This seemed to me not a state of mind that I ought tointerfere with: I might do more harm than good. So I stopped. But I have since regretted it.Circumstances prevented me from meeting my friend for some weeks. During that time he hadfallen in with companions of negative views, against which he had no power to maintain hisposition: and he had passed from believing everything to believing nothing. That is only too easy atransition; but I hope you will never experience it. Surely there is a medium between swallowing thehusk, and throwing the nut away. Is it not possible to throw away the husk and keep the kernel

I am more pained than surprised to infer from your last letter that your faith has received a severeshock. A single term at the University has sufficed to make you doubt whether you retain a belief inmiracles; and "If miracles fall, the Bible falls; and with the fall of the Bible I lose Christ; and if Imust regard Christ as a fanatic, I do not see how I can believe in a God who suffered such a one asChrist thus to be deceived and to deceive others." Such appear to be the thoughts that are passingthrough your mind, as I infer them from incidental and indirect expressions rather than from anydefinite statement.Unfortunately I understand all this too well not to be able to follow with ease such phases ofdisbelief even when conveyed in hints. Many young men begin by being taught to believe too much, a great deal too much. Then, when they find they must give up something, (the husk of the kernel)their teachers too often bid them swallow husk and all, on pain of swallowing nothing: and theyprefer to swallow nothing. An instance of this at once occurs to me. Many years ago, a young manwho wished to be ordained, asked me to read the Old Testament with him. We set to work at onceand read some miraculous history-I forget precisely what-in which I thought my young friendmust needs see a difficulty. So I began to point out how the difficulty might be at least diminishedby critical considerations. I say "I began": for I stopped as soon as I had begun, finding that myfriend saw no difficulty at all. He accepted every miracle on every page of the Old and NewTestament on the authority of the Bible; just as a Roman Catholic accepts every ecclesiasticaldoctrine on the authority of the Church. This seemed to me not a state of mind that I ought tointerfere with: I might do more harm than good. So I stopped. But I have since regretted it.Circumstances prevented me from meeting my friend for some weeks. During that time he hadfallen in with companions of negative views, against which he had no power to maintain hisposition: and he had passed from believing everything to believing nothing. That is only too easy atransition; but I hope you will never experience it. Surely there is a medium between swallowing thehusk, and throwing the nut away. Is it not possible to throw away the husk and keep the kernel