Hinton - A New Era of Thought

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A NEW ERA OF THOUGHT.
SCIENTIFIC ROMANCES.
By C. HOWARD HINTON, M. A.
Crown 8vo. Adobe Portable Document Format.
“Valuable as an introduction to the study of the Fourth Dimen-
sion.”—The Equinox.
FIRST SERIES COMPRISES:
1. What is the Fourth Dimension?
“A short treatise of admirable clearness . . . Mr Hinton brings us,
panting but delighted, to at least a momentary faith in the Fourth Di-
mension, and upon the eyes of this faith there opens a vista of interesting
problems. . . . His pamphlet exhibits a boldness of speculation, and a
power of conceiving and expressing even the inconceivable, which rouses
one’s faculties like a tonic.”—Pall Mall.
2. The Persian King; or, The Law of the Valley.
“A very suggestive and well-written speculation, by the inheritor of an
honoured name.”—Mind.
“Will arrest the attention of the reader at once.”—Knowledge.
3. A Plane World.
4. A Picture of our Universe.
5. Casting out the Self.
SECOND SERIES COMPRISES:
1. On the Education of the Imagination.
2. Many Dimensions.
3. Stella.
4. An Unfinished Communication.
———————
LEEDS: CELEPHAÏS PRESS
celephaispress.blogspot.com
A New Era of Thought.
BY
CHARLES HOWARD HINTON, M.A., OXON.

Author of “What is the Fourth Dimension,” and other “Scientific Romances.”
Celephaïs Press
Ulthar - Sarkomand - Inquanok - Leeds
2009
First published London: Swan Sonnenschein, 1888. Reprinted
1900. This electronic text created by Celephaïs Press,
somewhere beyond the Tanarian Hills, and
manifested in the waking world in
Leeds, Yorkshire, England
in the year 2009 of the
common error.
This work is in the public domain.

PREFACE.
——
THE MSS. which formed the basis of this book were
committed to us by the author, on his leaving England
for a distant foreign appointment. It was his wish that
we should construct upon them a much more complete
treatise than we have effected, and with that intention
he asked us to make any changes or additions we thought
desirable. But long alliance with him in this work ha
convinced us that his thought (especially that of a general
philosophical character) loses much of its force if sub-
jected to any extraneous touch.
This feeling has induced us to print Part I. almost
exactly as it came from his hands, although it would
probably have received much rearrangement if he could
have watched it through the press himself.
Part II. has been written from a hurried sketch, which
he considered very inadequate, and which we have con-
sequently corrected and supplemented. Chapter XI. of
this part has been entirely re-written by us, and has thus
not had the advantage of his supervision. This remark
also applies to Appendix E, which is an elaboration of
a theorem he suggested. Appendix H, and all the
exercises have, in accordance with his wish, been written
vi Preface.
solely by us. It will be apparent to the reader that
Appendix H is little more than a brief introduction to
a very large subject, which, being concerned with tes-
saracts and solids, is really beyond treatment in writing
and diagrams.
This difficulty recalls us to the one great fact, upon
which we feel bound to insist, that the matter of this
book must receive objective treatment from the reader,
who will find it quite useless even to attempt to appre-
hend it without actually building in squares and cubes
all the facts of space which we ask him to impress on
his consciousness. Indeed, we consider that printing,
as a method of spreading space-knowledge, is but a “pis
aller,” and we would go back to that ancient and more
fruitful method of the Greek geometers, and, while
describing figures on the sand, or piling up pebbles in
series, would communicate to others that spirit of learn-
ing and generalization begotten in our consciousness by
continuous contact with facts, and only by continuous
contact with facts vitally maintained.
ALICIA BOOLE,
H. JOHN FALK.
N.B. Models.—It is unquestionably a most important

part of the process of learning space to construct these,
and the reader should do so, however roughly and
hastily. But, if Models are required as patterns, they
may be ordered from Messrs. Swan Sonnenschein & Co.,
Preface. vii
Paternoster Square, London, and will be supplied as
soon as possible, the uncertainty as to demand for
same not allowing us to have a large number made in
advance. Much of the work can be done with plain
cubes by using names without colours, but further on
the reader will find colours necessary to enable him to
grasp and retain the complex series of observations.
Coloured models can easily be made by covering Kin-
dergarten cubes with white paper and painting them
with water-colour, and, if permanence be desired, dip-
ping them in size and copal varnish.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
—————————
PART I.
PAGE
INTRODUCTION . . . . . . . . . . . . 1–7
CHAPTER I.
Scepticism and Science. Beginning of Knowledge . . 8-13
CHAPTER II.
Apprehension of Nature. Intelligence. Study of Arrange-
ment or Shape . . . . . . . . . . 14–20
CHAPTER III.
The Elements of Knowledge . . . . . . . . 21–23
CHAPTER IV.
Theory and Practice . . . . . . . . . . 24–28
CHAPTER V.
Knowledge: Self-Elements . . . . . . . . 29–34
CHAPTER VI.
Function of Mind. Space against Metaphysics. Self-
Limitation and its Test. A Plane World . . . 35–46
x Contents.
PAGE
CHAPTER VII.
Self Elements in our Consciousness . . . . . . 47–50
CHAPTER VIII.
Relation of Lower to Higher Space. Theory of the Æther 51–60
CHAPTER IX.
Another View of the Æther. Material and Ætherial Bodies 61–66
CHAPTER X.
Higher Space and Higher Being. Perception and In-
spiration . . . . . . . . . . . . 67–84
CHAPTER XI.
Space the Scientific Basis of Altruism and Religion . . 85–99
——————
PART II.
CHAPTER I.
Three-space. Genesis of a Cube. Appearances of a Cube
to a Plane-being . . . . . . . . . 101–112
CHAPTER II.
Further Appearances of a Cube to a Plane-being . . 113–117
CHAPTER III.
Four-space. Genesis of a Tesseract; its Representation
in Three-space . . . . . . . . . . 118–129
CHAPTER IV.
Tesseract moving through Tree-space. Models of the
Sections . . . . . . . . . . . . 130–134
Contents. xi
PAGE
CHAPTER V.
Representation of Three-space by Names and in a Plane 135-148
CHAPTER VI.
The Means by which a Plane-being would Aquire a Con-
ception of our Figures . . . . . . . . 149–155
CHAPTER VII.
Four-space: its Representation in Three-space . . . 156–166
CHAPTER VIII.
Representation of Four-space by Name. Study of Tesseracts 167–176
CHAPTER IX.
Further Study of Tesseracts . . . . . . . . 177–179
CHAPTER X.
Cyclical Projections . . . . . . . . . . 180–183
CHAPTER XI.
A Tesseractic Figure and its Projections . . . . . 184–194
APPENDICES.
A. 100 Names used for Plane Space . . . . . . 197
B. 216 Names used for Cubic Space . . . . . . 198
C. 256 Names used for Tessaractic Space . . . . 200–201
D. List of Colours, Names, and Symbols . . . . 202–203
E. A Theorem in Four-space . . . . . . . 204–205
F. Exercises on Shapes of Three Dimensions . . . 205–207
G. Exercises on Shapes of Four Dimensions . . . 207–209
H. Sections of the Tesseract . . . . . . . . 209–217
K. Drawings of the Cubic Sides and Sections of the Tes-
saract (Models 1–12) with Colours and Names . 219-230
INTRODUCTORY NOTE TO PART I.
AT the completion of a work, or at the completion of the first part

of a work, the feelings are necessarily very different from those
with which the work was begun; and the meaning and value of the
work itself bear a very different appearance. It will therefore be
the simplest and shortest plan, if I tell the reader briefly what the
work is to which these pages are a guide, and what I consider to
be its value when done.
The task was to obtain a sense of the properties of higher space,
or space of four dimensions, in the same way as that by which we
reach a sense of our ordinary three-dimensional space. I now prefer
to call the task that of obtaining a familiarity with higher matter,
which shall be as intuitive to the mind as that of ordinary matter
has become. The expression “higher matter” is preferable to
“higher space,” because it is a somewhat hasty proceeding to split
this concrete matter, which we touch and feel, into the abstractions
of extension and impenetrability. It seems to me that I cannot
think of space without matter, and therefore, as no necessity com-
pels me to such a course, I do not split up the concrete object into
subtleties, but I simply ask: “What is that which is to a cube or
block or shape of any kind as the cube is to a square?”
In entering upon this inquiry we find the task is twofold.
Firstly, there is the theoretical part, which is easy, viz. to set
clearly before us the relative conditions which would obtain if
there were a matter physically higher than this matter of ours, and
to choose the best means of liberating our minds from the limita-
xiv Introductory Note to Part I.
tions imposed on it by the particular conditions under which we
are placed. The second part of the task is somewhat laborious,
and consists of a constant presentation to the senses of those ap-
pearances which portions of higher matter would present, and of
a continual dwelling on them, until the higher matter becomes
familiar.
The reader must undertake this task, if he accepts it at all, as an

experiment. Those of us who have done it, are satisfied that there
is that in the results of the experiment which make it well worthy
of a trial.
And in a few words I may state the general bearings of this

work, for every branch of work has its general bearings. It is an
attempt, in the most elementary and simple domain, to pass from
the lower to the higher. In pursuing it the mind passes from one
kind of intuition to a higher one, and with that transition the
horizon of thought is altered. It becomes clear that there is a
physical existence transcending the ordinary physical existence;
and one becomes inclined to think that the right direction to look
is, not away from matter to spiritual existences, but towards the
discovery of conceptions of higher matter, and thereby of those
material existences whose definite relations to us are apprehended
as spiritual intuitions. Thus, “material” would simply mean
“grasped by the intellect, become known and familiar.” Our ap-
prehension of anything which is not expressed in terms of matter,
is vague and indefinite. To realize and live with that which we
vaguely discern, we need to apply the intuition of higher matter to
the world around us. And this seems to me the great inducement
to this study. Let us form our intuition of higher space, and then
look out upon the world.
Secondly, in this progress from ordinary to higher matter, as a

general type of progress from lower to higher, we make the fol-
lowing observations. Firstly, we become aware that there are
Introductory Note to Part I. xv
certain limitations affecting our regard. Secondly, we discover by
our reason what those limitations are, and then force ourselves to
go through the experience which would be ours if the limitations
did not affect us. Thirdly, we become aware of a capacity within
us for transcending those limitations, and for living in the higher
mode as we had lived in the previous one.
We may remark that this progress from the ordinary to the
higher kind of matter demands an absolute attention to details. It
is only in the retention of details that such progress becomes pos-
sible. And as, in this question of matter, an absolute and uncon-
ventional examination gives us the indication of a higher, so,
doubtless, in other questions, if we but come to facts without pre-
supposition, we begin to know that there is a higher and to dis-
cover indications of the way whereby we can approach. That way
lies in the fulness of detail rather than in the generalization.
Biology has shown us that there is a universal order of forms
or organisms, passing from lower to higher. Therein we find an
indication that we ourselves take part in this progress. And in
using the little cubes we can go through the process ourselves, and
learn what it is in a little instance.
But of all the ways in which the confidence gained from this
lesson can be applied, the nearest to us lies in the suggestion it
gives,—and more than the suggestion, if inclination to think be
counted for anything,—in the suggestion of that which is higher
than ourselves. We, as individuals, are not the limit and end-all,
but there is a higher being than ours. What our relation to it is,
we cannot tell, for that is unlike our relation to anything we know.
But, perhaps all that happens to us is, could we but grasp it, our
relation to it.
At any rate, the discovery of it is the great object beside which
all else is as secondary as the routine of mere existence is to
companionship. And the method of discovery is full knowledge of
each other. Thereby is the higher being to be known. In as much
xvi Introductory Note to Part I.
as the least of us knows and is known by another, in so much does
he know the higher. Thus, scientific prayer is when two or three
meet together, and, in the belief of one higher than themselves,
mutually comprehend that vision of the higher, which each one is,
and, by absolute fulness of knowledge of the facts of each other’s
personality, strive to attain a knowledge of that which is to each of
their personalities as a higher figure is to its solid sides.
C. H. H.
A NEW ERA OF THOUGHT.
——<>——
PART I.
INTRODUCTION.
THERE are no new truths in this book, but it consists

of an effort to impress upon and bring home to the
mind some of the more modern developments of thought.
A few sentences of Kant, a few leading ideas of Gauss
and Lobatschewski form the material out of which it
is built up.
It may be thought to be unduly long; but it must
be remembered that in these times there is a twofold
process going on—one of discovery about external
nature, one of education, by which our minds are
brought into harmony with that which we know. In
certain respects we find ourselves brought on by the
general current of ideas—we feel that matter is permanent
and cannot be annihilated, and it is almost an axiom
in our minds that energy is persistent, and all its trans-
formations remains the same in amount. But there are
other directions in which there is need of definite train-
ing if we are to enter into the thoughts of the time.
And it seems to me that a return to Kant, the creator
of modern philosophy, is the first condition. Now of
Kant’s enormous work only a small part is treated here,
but with the difference that should be found between the
work of a master and that of a follower. Kant’s state-
1
2 A New Era of Thought.
ments are taken as leading ideas, suggesting a field of
work, and it is in detail and manipulation merely that
there is an opportunity for workmanship.
Of Kant’s work it is only his doctrine of space which
is here experimented upon. With Kant the perception
of things as being in space is not treated as it seems so
obvious to do. We should naturally say that there is
space, and there are things in it. From a comparison
of those properties which are common to all things we
obtain the properties of space. But Kant says that
this property of being in space is not so much a quality
of any definable objects, as the means by which we
obtain an apprehension of definable objects—it is the
condition of our mental work.
Now as Kant’s doctrine is usually commented on, the
negative side is brought into prominence, the positive
side is neglected. It is generally said that the mind
cannot perceive things in themselves, but can only
apprehend them subject to space conditions. And in
this way the space conditions are as it were considered
somewhat in the light of hindrances, whereby we are
prevented from seeing what the objects in themselves
truly are. But if we take the statement simply as it
is—that we apprehend by means of space—then it is
equally allowable to consider our space sense as a
positive means by which the mind grasps its experience.
There is in so many books in which the subject is
treated a certain air of despondency—as if this space
apprehension were a kind of veil which shut us off from
nature. But there is no need to adopt this feeling.
The first postulate of this book is a full recognition of the
fact, that it is by means of space that we apprehend what
is. Space is the instrument of the mind.
And here for the purposes of our work we can avoid
all metaphysical discussion. Very often a statement
Introduction. 3
which seems to be very deep and abstruse and hard
to grasp, is simply the form into which deep thinkers
have thrown a very simple and practical observation.
And for the present let us look on Kant’s great doctrine
of space from a practical point of view, and it comes to
this—it is important to develop the space sense, for it is
the means by which we think about real things.
There is a doctrine which found much favour with
the first followers of Kant, that also affords us a simple
and practical rule of work. It was considered by Fichte
that the whole external world was simply a projection
from the ego, and the manifold of nature was a recogni-
tion by the spirit of itself. What this comes to as a
practical rule is, that we can only understand nature in
virtue of our own activity; that there is no such thing
as mere passive observation, but every act of sight and
thought is an activity of our own.
Now according to Kant the space sense, or the in-
tuition of space, is the most fundamental power of the
mind. But I do not find anywhere a systematic and
thoroughgoing education of the space sense. In every
practical pursuit it is needed—in some it is developed.
In geometry it is used; but the great reason of failure
in education is that, instead of a systematic training
of the space sense, it is left to be organized by ac-
cident and is called upon to act without having been
formed. According to Kant and according to common
experience it will be found that a trained thinker is one
in whom the space sense has been well developed.
With regard to the education of the space sense, I
must ask the indulgence of the reader. It will seem
obvious to him that any real pursuit or real observation
trains the space sense, and that it is going out of the
way to undertake any special discipline.
To this I would answer that, according to my own
experience, I was perfectly ignorant of space relations
myself before I actually worked at the subject, and
that directly I got a true view of space facts a whole
series of conceptions, which before I had known merely
by repute and grasped by an effort, became perfectly
simple and clear to me.
Moreover, to take one instance: in studying the
relations of space we always have to do with coloured
objects, we always have the sense of weight; for if the
things themselves have no weight, there is always a
direction of up and down—which implies the sense of
weight, and to get rid of these elements requires careful
sifting. But perhaps the best point of view to take is
this—if the reader has the space sense well developed
he will have no difficulty in going through the part of
the book which relates to it, and the phraseology will
serve him for the considerations which come next.
Amongst the followers of Kant, those who pursued
one of the lines of thought in his works have attracted
the most attention and have been considered as his suc-
cessors. Fichte, Schelling, Hegel have developed cer-
tain tendencies and have written remarkable books.
But the true successors of Kant are Gauss and Lobat-
chewski.
For if our intuition of space is the means by which we
apprehend, then it follows that there may be different
kinds of intuitions of space. Who can tell what the ab-
solute space intuition is? This intuition of space must
be coloured, so to speak, by the conditions of the being
which uses it.
Now, after Kant had laid down his doctrine of space,
it was important to investigate how much in our space
intuition is due to experience—is a matter of the phy-
sical circumstances of the thinking being—and how
much is the pure act of the mind.
Introduction. 5
The only way to investigate this is the practical way,
and by a remarkable analysis the great geometers above
mentioned have shown that space is not limited as or-
dinary experience would seem to inform us, but that we
are quite capable of conceiving different kinds of space.
Our space as we ordinarily think of it is conceived as
limited—not in extent, but in a certain way which can
only be realized when we think of our ways of measur-
ing space objects. It is found that there are only three
independent directions in which a body can be measured
—it must have height, length and breadth, but it has
no more than these dimensions. If any other measure-
ment be taken in it, this new measurement will be found
to be compounded of the old measurements. It is im-
possible to find a point in the body which could not
be arrived at by travelling in combinations of the three
directions already taken.
But why should space be limited to three independent
directions?
Geometers have found that there is no reason why
bodies should be thus limited. As a matter of fact all
the bodies which we can measure are thus limited. So
we come to this conclusion, that the space which we use
for conceiving ordinary objects in the world is limited
to three dimensions. But it might be possible for there
to be beings living in a world such that they would con-
ceive a space of four dimensions. All that we can say
about such a supposition is, that it is not demanded by
our experience. It may be that in the very large or
the very minute a fourth dimension of space will have
to be postulated to account for parts—but with regard
to objects of ordinary magnitudes we are certainly not
in a four dimensional world.
And this was the point at which about ten years ago
I took up the inquiry.
It is possible to say a great deal about space of higher
dimensions than our own, and to work out analytically
many problems which suggest themselves. But can we
conceive four-dimensional space in the same way in
which we can conceive our own space? Can we think
of a body in four dimensions as a unit having properties
in the same way as we think of a body having a definite
shape in the space with which we are familiar?
Now this question, as every other with which I am
acquainted, can only be answered by experiment. And
I commenced a series of experiments to arrive at a con-
clusion one way or the other.
It is obvious that this is not a scientific inquiry—but
one for the practical teacher.
And just as in experimental researches the skilful
manipulator will demonstrate a law of nature, the less
skilled manipulator will fail; so here, everything de-
pended on the manipulation. I was not sure that this
power lay hidden in the mind, but to put the question
fairly would surely demand every resource of the prac-
tical art of education.
And so it proved to be; for after many years of work,
during which the conception of four-dimensional bodies
lay absolutely dark, at length, by a certain change of
plan, the whole subject of four-dimensional existence
became perfectly clear and easy to impart.
There is really no more difficulty in conceiving four-
dimensional shapes, when we go about it the right way,
than in conceiving the idea of solid shapes, nor is there
any mystery at all about it.
When the faculty is acquired—or rather when it is
brought into consciousness, for it exists in every one in
imperfect form—a new horizon opens. The mind ac-
quires a development of power, and in this use of ampler
space as a mode of thought, a path is opened by using
Introduction. 7
that very truth which, when first stated by Kant, seemed
to close the mind within such fast limits. Our percep-
tion is subject to the condition of being in space. But
space is not limited as we at first think.
The next step after having formed this power of con-
ception in ampler space, is to investigate nature and see
what phenomena are to be explained by four-dimen-
sional relations.
But this part of the subject is hardly one for the same
worker as the one who investigates how to think in four-
dimensional space. The work of building up the power
is the work of the practical educator, the work of apply-
ing it to nature is the work of the scientific man. And
it is not possible to accomplish both tasks at the same
time. Consequently the crown is still to be won. Here
the method is given of training the mind; it will be an
exhilarating moment when an investigator comes upon
phenomena which show that external nature cannot be
explained except by the assumption of a four-dimen-
sional space.
The thought of the past ages has used the conception
of a three-dimensional space, and by that means has
classified many phenomena and has obtained rules for
dealing with matters of great practical utility. The
path which opens immediately before us in the future
is that of applying the conception of four-dimensional
space to the phenomena of nature, and of investigating
what can be found out by this new means of appre-
hension.
In fact, what has been passed through may be called
the three-dimensional era; Gauss and Lobatchewski
have inaugurated the four-dimensional era.
CHAPTER I.
SCEPTICISM AND SCIENCE. BEGINNING OF
KNOWLEDGE.
THE following pages have for their object to induce

the reader to apply himself to the study, in the first
place of Space, and then of Higher Space; and, there-
fore, I have tried by indirect means to show forth those
thoughts and conceptions to which the practical
work leads.
And I feel that I have a great advantage in this
project, inasmuch as many of the thoughts which spring
up in the mind of one who studies higher space, and
many of the conceptions to which he is driven, turn out
to be nothing more nor less than old truths—the pro-
perty of every mind that thinks and feels—truths which
are not generally associated with the scientific appre-
hension of the world, but which are not for that reason
any the less valuable.
And for my own part I cannot do more than put
them forward in a very feeble and halting manner.
For I have come upon them, not in the way of feeling
or direct apprehension, but as the result of a series of
works undertaken purely with the desire to know—a
desire which did not lift itself to the height of expecting
or looking for the beautiful or the good, but which
simply asked for something to know.
For I found myself—and many others I find do so
also—I found myself in respect to knowledge like a
man who is in the midst of plenty and yet who cannot
find anything to eat. All around me were the evidences
8
Scepticism and Science. 9
of knowledge—the arts, the sciences, interesting talk,
useful inventions—and yet I myself was profited
nothing at all; for somehow, amidst all this activity, I
was left alone, I could get nothing which I could know.
The dialect was foreign to me—its inner meaning
was hidden. If I would, imitating the utterance of
my fellows, say a few words, the effort was forced, the
whole result was an artificiality, and, if successful, would
be but a plausible imposture.
The word “sceptical” has a certain unpleasant asso-
ciation attached to it, for it has been used by so many
people who are absolutely certain in a particular line,
and attack other people's convictions. But to be scep-
tical in the real sense is a far more unpleasant state of
mind to the sceptic than to any one of his companions.
For to a mind that inquires into what it really does
know, it is hardly possible to enunciate complete sen-
tences, much less to put before it those complex ideas
which have so large a part in true human life.
Every word we use has so wide and fugitive a mean-
ing, and every expression touches or rather grazes fact
by so very minute a point, that, if we wish to start with
something which we do know, and thence proceed in a
certain manner, we are forced away from the study of
reality and driven to an artificial system, such as logic
or mathematics, which, starting from postulates and
axioms, develops a body of ideal truth which rather
comes into contact with nature than is nature.
Scientific achievement is reserved for those who are
content to absorb into their consciousness, by any means
and by whatever way they come, the varied appearances
of nature, whence and in which by reflection they find
floating as it were on the sea of the unknown, certain
similarities, certain resemblances and analogies, by
means of which they collect together a body of possible
predictions and inferences ; and in nature they find
correspondences which are actually verified. Hence
science exists, although the conceptions in the mind
cannot be said to have any real correspondence in
nature.
We form a set of conceptions in the mind, and the
relations between these conceptions give us relations
which we find actually vibrating in the world around
us. But the conceptions themselves are essentially
artificia1.
We have a conception of atoms; but no one supposes
that atoms actually exist. We suppose a force varying
inversely as the square of the distance; but no one
supposes such a mysterious thing to really be in nature.
And when we come to the region of descriptive science,
when we come to simple observation, we do not find
ourselves any better provided with a real knowledge of
nature. If, for instance, we think of a plant, we picture to
ourselves a certain green shape, of a more or less
definite character. This green shape enables us to
recognise the plant we think of, and to describe it to a
certain extent. But if we inquire into our imagination
of it, we find that our mental image very soon diverges
from the fact. If, for instance, we cut the plant in half,
we find cells and tissues of various kinds. If we examine
our idea of the plant, it has merely an external and
superficial resemblance to the plant itself. It is a mental
drawing meeting the real plant in external appearance;
but the two things, the plant and our thought of it,
come as it were from different sides—they just touch
each other as far as the colour and shape are concerned,
but as structures and as living organisms they are as
wide apart as possible.
Of course by observation and study the image of a
plant which we bear in our minds may be made to re-
Beginning of Knowledge. 11
semble a plant as found in the fields more and more.
But the agreement with nature lies in the multitude of
points superadded on to the notion of greenness which
we have at first—there is no natural starting-point where
the mind meets nature, and whence they can travel hand
in hand.
It almost seems as if, by sympathy and feeling, a
human being was easier to know than the simplest ob-
ject. To know any object, however simple, by the reason
and observation requires an endless process of thought
and looking, building up the first vague impression into
something like in more and more respects. While, on
the other hand, in dealing with human beings there is
an inward sympathy and capacity for knowing which is
independent of, though called into play by, the obser-
vation of the actions and outward appearance of the
human being.
But for the purpose of knowing we must leave out
these human relationships. They are an affair of in-
stinct and inherited unconscious experience. The mind
may some day rise to the level of these inherited appre-
hensions, and be able to explain them; but at present
it is far more than overtasked to give an account of the
simplest portions of matter, and is quite inadequate to
give an account of the nature of a human being.
Asking, then, what there was which I could know,
I found no point of beginning. There were plenty of
ways of accumulating observations, but none in which
one could go hand in hand with nature.
A child is provided in the early part of its life with a
provision of food adapted for it. But it seemed that our
minds are left without a natural subsistence, for on the
one hand there are arid mathematics, and on the other
there is observation, and in observation there is, out
of the great mass of constructed mental images, but little
which the mind can assimilate. To the worker at science
of course this crude and omnivorous observation is
everything; but if we ask for something which we can
know, it is like a vast mass of indigestible material
with every here and there a fibre or thread which we
can assimilate.
In this perplexity I was reduced to the last condition
of mental despair; and in default of finding anything
which I could understand in nature, I was sufficiently
humbled to learn anything which seemed to afford a
capacity of being known.
And the objects which came before me for this en-
deavour were the simple ones which will be plentifully
used in the practical part of this book. For I found
that the only assertion I could make about external
objects, without bringing in unknown and unintelligible
relations, was this: I could say how things were
arranged. If a stone lay between two others, that was
a definite and intelligible fact, and seemed primary. As
a stone itself, it was an unknown somewhat which one
could get more and more information about the more
one studied the various sciences. But granting that
there were some things there which we call stones, the
way they were arranged was a simple and obvious fact
which could be easily expressed and easily remembered.
And so in despair of being able to obtain any other
kind of mental possession in the way of knowledge, I
commenced to learn arrangements, and I took as the
objects to be arranged certain artificial objects of a
simple shape. I built up a block of cubes, and giving
each a name I learnt a mass of them.
Now I do not recommend this as a thing to be done.
All I can say is that genuinely then and now it seemed
and seems to be the only kind of mental possession which
one can call knowledge. It is perfectly definite and
Beginning of Knowledge. 13
certain. I could tell where each cube came and how
it was related to each of the others. As to the cube it-
self, I was profoundly ignorant of that; but assuming
that as a necessary starting-point, taking that as granted,
I had a definite mass of knowledge.
But I do not wish to say that this is better than any
kind of knowledge which other people may find come
home to them. All I want to do is to take this humble
beginning of knowledge and show how inevitably, by
devotion to it, it leads to marvellous and far-distant
truths, and how, by a strange path, it leads directly into
the presence of some of the highest conceptions which
great minds have given us.
I do not think it ought to be any objection to an in-
quiry, that it begins with obvious and common details.
In fact I do not think that it is possible to get anything
simpler, with less of hypothesis about it, and more ob-
viously a simple taking in of facts than the study of the
arrangement of a block of cubes.
Many philosophers have assumed a starting point
for their thought. I want the reader to accept a very
humble one and see what comes of it. If this leads us
to anything, no doubt greater results will come from more
ambitious beginnings.
And now I feel that I have candidly exposed myself
to the criticism of the reader. If he will have the
patience to go on, we will begin and build up on our
foundations.
CHAPTER II.
APPREHENSION OF NATURE. INTELLIGENCE. STUDY
OF ARRANGEMENT OR SHAPE.
NATURE is that which is around us. But it is by no

means easy to get to nature. The savage living we may
say in the bosom of nature, is certainly unapprehensive
of it, in fact it has needed the greatness of a Wordsworth
and of generations of poets and painters to open our
eyes even in a slight measure to the wonder of nature.
Thus it is clear that it is not by mere passivity that
we can comprehend nature; it is the goal of an activity,
not a free gift.
And there are many ways of apprehending nature.
There are the sounds and sights of nature which de-
light the senses, and the involved harmonies and the
secret affinities which poetry makes us feel; then, more-
over, there is the definite knowledge of natural facts in
which the memory and reason are employed,
Thus we may divide our means of coming into con-
tact with nature into three main channels : the senses, the
imagination, and the mind. The imagination is
perhaps the highest faculty, but we leave it out of con-
sideration here, and ask: How can we bring our minds
into contact with nature?
Now when we see two people of diverse characters
we sometimes say that they cannot understand one
another—there is nothing in the one by which he can
understand the other—he is shut out by a limitation of
his own faculties.
14
Apprehension of Nature. Intelligence. 15
And thus our power of understanding nature depends
on our own possession; it is in virtue of some mental
activity of our own that we can apprehend that outside
activity which we call nature. And thus the training to
enable us to approach nature with our minds will be
some active process on our own part.
In the course of my experience as a teacher I have
often been struck by the want of the power of reason
displayed by pupils; they are not ab!e to put two and
two together, as the saying goes, and I have been at
some pains to investigate wherein this curious deficiency
lies, and how it can be supplied. And I have found
that there is in the curriculum no direct cure for it—the
discipline which supplies it is not one which comes into
school methods, it is a something which most children
obtain in the natural and unsupervised education of their
first contact with the world, and lies before any recog-
nised mode of distinction. They can only understand
in virtue of an activity of their own, and they have not
had sufficient exercise in this activity.
In the present state of education it is impossible to
diverge from the ordinary routine. But it is always
possible to experiment on children who are out of the
common line of education. And I believe I am amply
justified by the result of my experiments.
I have seen that the same activity which I have
found makes that habit of mind which we call intelli-
gence in a child, is the source of our common and every-
day rational intellectual work, and that just as the
faculties of a child can be called forth by it, so also the
powers of a man are best prepared by the same means,
but on an ampler scale.
A more detailed development of the practical work
of Part II., would be the best training for the mind of
a child. An extension of the work of that Part would
be the training which, hand in hand with observation and
recapitulation, would best develop a man’s thought power.
In order to tell what the activity is by the prosecution
of which we can obtain mental contact with nature
we should observe what it is which we say we “under-
stand” in any phenomenon of nature which has become
clear to us.
When we look at a bright object it seems very dif-
ferent from a dull one. A piece of bright steel hardly
looks like the same substance as a piece of dull steel.
But the difference of appearance in the two is easily
accounted for by the different nature of the surface in
the two cases; in the one all the irregularities are done
away with, and the rays of light which fall on it are sent
off again without being dispersed and broken up. In
the case of the dull iron the rays of light are broken up
and divided, so that they are not transmitted with
intensity in any one direction, but flung off in all sorts
of directions.
Here the difference between the bright object and the
dull object lies in the arrangement of the particles on its
surface and their influence on the rays of light.
Again, with light itself the differences of colour are
explained as being the effect on us of rays of different
rates of vibration. Now a vibration is essentially this, a
series of arrangements of matter which follow each
other in a closed order, so that when the set has been
run through, the first arrangement follows again. The
whole theory of light is an account of arrangements
of the particles in the transmitting medium, only the
arrangements alter—are not permanent in any one
characteristic, but go through a complete cycle of
varieties.
Again, when the movements of the heavenly bodies
are deduced from the theory of universal gravitation,
Study of Arrangement or Shape. 17
what we primarily do is to take account of arrangement;
for the law of gravity connects the movements which
the attracted bodies tend to make with their distances,
that is, it shows how their movements depend on their
arrangement. And if gravity as a force is to be explained
itself, the suppositions which have been put forward
resolve it into the effect of the movements of small
bodies; that is to say, gravity, if explained at all, is
explained as the result of the arrangement and altering
arrangements of small particles.
Again, to take the idea which proceeding from Goethe
casts such an influence on botanical observation.
Goethe (and also Wolf) laid down that the parts of a
flower were modified leaves—and traced the stages and
intermediate states between the ordinary green leaf and
the most gorgeous petal or stamen or carpel, so unlike
a leaf in form and function.
Now the essential value in this conception is, that
it enables us to look upon these different organs of a
plant as modifications of one and the same organ—it
enables us to think about the different varieties of the
flower head as modifications of one single plant form.
We can trace correspondences between them, and are
led to possible explanations of their growth. And all
this is done by getting rid of pistil and stamen as separ-
ate entities, and looking on them as leaves, and their
parts due to different arrangement of the leaf structure.
We have reduced these diverse objects to a common
element, we have found the unit by whose arrangements
the whole is produced. And in this department of
thought, as also to take another instance, in chemistry,
to understand is practically this: we find units (leaves
or atoms) combinations of which account for the results
which we see. Thus we see that that which the mind
essentially apprehends is arrangement.
And this holds over the whole range of mental work,
from the simplest observation to the most complex theory.
When the eye takes in the form of an esternal object
there is something more than a sense impression, some-
thing more than a sensation of greenness and light and
dark. The mind works as well as the sense, and these
sense impressions are definitely grouped in what we call
the shape of the object. The essential act of perceiving
lies in the apprehension of a shape, and a shape is an
arrangement of parts. It does not matter what these
parts are; if we take meaningless dots of colour and
arrange them we obtain a shape which represents the
appearance of a stone or a leaf to a certain degree. If
we want to make our representation still more like, we
must treat each of the dots as in themselves arrange-
ments, we must compose each of them by many strokes
and dots of the brush. But even in this case we have
not got anything else besides arrangement. The ulti-
mate element, the small items of light and shade or of
colour, are in themselves meaningless; it is in their ar-
rangement that the likeness of the representation consists.
Thus, from a drawing to our notion of the planetary
system, all our contact with nature lies in this, in an
appreciation of arrangement.
Hence to prepare ourselves for the understanding of
nature, we must “arrange.” In virtue of our activity in
making arrangements we prepare ourselves to do what
is called understand nature. Or we may say, that
which we call understanding nature is to discern some-
thing similar in nature to that which we do when we
arrange elements into compounded groups.
Now if we study arrangement in the active way, we
must have something to arrange; and the things we
work with may be either all alike, or each of them vary-
ing from every other.
Study of Arrangement or Shape. 19
If the elements are not alike then we are not studying
pure arrangement; but our knowledge is affected by
the compound nature of that with which we deal. If
the elements are all alike, we have what we call units.
Hence the discipline preparatory for the understanding
of nature is the active arrangement of like units.
And this is very much the case with all educational
processes; only the things chosen to arrange are in
general words, which are so complicated and carry such
a train of association that, unless the mind has already
acquired a knowledge of arrangement, it is puzzled and
hampered, and never gets a clear apprehension of what
its work is.
Now what shall we choose for our units? Any unit
would do; but it ought to be a real thing—it ought to
be something which can be touched and seen, not some-
thing which no one has ever touched or seen, and which
is even incapable of definition, like a “number.”
I would divide studies into two classes: those which
create the faculty of arrangement, and those which use it
and exercise it. Mathematics exercises it, but I do
not think it creates it; and unfortunately, in mathe-
matics as it is now often taught, the pupil is launched
into a vast system of symbols—the whole use and
meaning of symbols (namely, as means to acquire a
clear grasp of facts) is lost to him.
Of the possible units which will serve, I take the
cube; and I have found that whenever I took any other
unit I got wrong, puzzled and lost my way. With the
cube one does not get along very fast, but everything
is perfectly obvious and simple, and builds up into a
whole of which every part is evident.
And I must ask the reader to absolutely erase from
his mind all desire or wish to be able to predict or
assert anything about nature, and he must please look
with horror on any mental process by which he gets at
a truth in an ingenious but obscure and inesplicable
way. Let him take nothing which is not perfectly clear,
patent and evident, demonstrable to his senses, a simple
repetition of obvious fact.
Our work will then be this: a study, by means of
cubes, of the facts of arrangement. And the process of
learning will be an active one of actually putting up the
cubes. In this way we do for the mind what Words-
worth does for thc imagination—we bring it into contact
with nature.
CHAPTER III.
THE ELEMENTS OF KNOWLEDGE.
THERE are two elements which enter into our know-

ledge with respect to any phenomenon.
If, for instance, we take the sun, and ask ourselves
what we observe, we notice that it is a bright, moving
body; and of these two qualities, the brightness and
the movement, each seems equally predicable of the
sun. It does move, and it is bright.
Now further study discloses to us that there is a
difference between these two affirrnations. The motion
of the sun in its diurnal course round the earth is only
apparent; but it is really a bright, hot body.
Now of these two assertions which the mind naturally
makes about the sun, one—that it is moving—depends
on the relation of the beholder to the sun, the other is
true about the sun itself. The observed motion depends
on a fact affecting oneself and having nothing to do
with the sun, while the brightness is really a quality of
the sun itself.
Now we will call those qualities or appearances which
we notice in a body which are due to the particular
conditions under which oneself is placed in observing
it, the self elements; those facts about it which are
independent of the observer’s particular relationship we
will call the residual element. Thus the sun’s motion
is a self element in our thought of the sun, its brightness
is a residual element.
21
It is not, of course, possible to draw a line distinctly
between the self elements and the residual elements.
For instance, some people have denied that brightness
is a quality of things, but that it depends on the capacity
of the being for receiving sensations; and for brightness
they would substitute the assertion that the sun is
giving forth a great deal of energy in the form of heat
and light.
But there is no object in pursuing the discussion
further. The main distinction is sufficiently obvious.
And it is important to separate the self elements in-
volved in our knowledge as far as possible, so that the
residual elements may be kept for our closer attention.
By getting rid of the self elements we put ourselves in
a position in which we can propound sensible questions.
By getting rid of the notion of its circular motion round
the earth we prepare our way to study the sun as it
really is. We get the subject clear of complications
and extraneous considerations.
It would hardly be worth while to dwell on this con-
sideration were it not of importance in our study of
arrangement. But the fact is that directly a subject
has been cleared of the self elements, it seems so absurd
to have had them introduced at all that the great diffi-
culty there was in getting rid of them is forgotten.
With regard to the knowledge we have at the present
day about scientific matters, there do not seem to be
any self elements present. But the worst about a self
element is, that its presence is never dreamed of till it
is got rid of; to know that it is there is to have done
away with it. And thus our body of knowledge is like
a fluid which keeps clear, not because there are no sub-
stances in solution, but because directly they become
evident they fall down as precipitates.
Now one of our serious pieces of work will be to get
The Elements of Knowledge. 23
rid of the self elements in the knowledge of arrange-
ment.
And the kind of knowledge which we shall try to
obtain will be somewhat different from the kind of
knowledge which we have about events or natural
phenomena. In the large subjects mhich generally
occupy the mind the things thought of are so compli-
cated that every detail cannot possibly be considered.
The principles of the whole are realized, and then at
any required time the principles can be worked out.
Thus, with regard to a knowledge of the planetary
system, it is said to be known if the law of movement
of each of the planets is recognized, and their positions
at any one time committed to memory. It is not our
habit to remember their relative positions with regard
to one another at many intervals, so as to have an
exhaustive catalogue of them in our minds. But with
regard to the elements of knowledge with which we
shall work, the subject is so simple that we may justly
demand of ourselves that we will know every detail.
And the knowledge me shall acquire will be much
more one of the sense and feeling than of the reason.
We do not want to have a rule in our minds by which
we can recall the positions of the different cubes, but
we want to have an immediate apprehension of them.
It was Kant who first pointed out how much of thought
there was embodied in the sense impressions; and it is
this embodied thought which we wish to form.
CHAPTER IV.
THEORY AND PRACTICE.
BOTH in science and in morals there is an important

distinction to be drawn between theory and practice.
A knowledge of chemistry does not consist in the in-
tellectual appreciation of different theories and principles,
but in being able to act in accordance with the facts
of chemical combination, so that by means of the ap-
pliances of chemistry practical results are produced.
And so in morals—the theoretic acquaintance with the
principles of human action may consist with a marked
degree of ignorance of how to act amongst other human
beings.
Now the use of the word “learn” has been much
restricted to merely theoretic studies. It requires to be
enlarged to the scientific meaning. And to know, should
include practice in actual manipulation.
Let us take an instance. We all know what justice
is, and any child can be taught to tell the difference
between acting justly and acting unjustly. But it is a
different thing to teach them to act with justice. Some-
thing is done which affects them unpleasantly. They
feel an impulse to retaliate. In order to see what justice
demands they have to put their personal feeling on one
side. They have to get rid of those conditions under
which they apprehended the effects of the action at first,
and they have to look on it from another point of view.
Then they have to act in accordance with this view.
24
Theory and Practice. 25
Now there are two steps—one an intellectual one of
understanding, one a practical one of carrying out the
view. Neither is a moral step. One demands intelli-
gence, the other the formation of a habit, and this habit
can be inculcated by precept, by reward and punish-
ment, by various means. But as human nature is
constituted, if the habit of justice is inculcated it touches
a part of the being. There is an emotional response.
We know but little of a human being, but we can safely
say that there are depths in it, beyond the feelings of
momentary resentment and the stimulus of pleasurable
or painful sensation, to which justice is natural.
How little adequate is our physical knowledge of a
human being as a bodily frame to explain the fact of
human life. Now and again we see one of these isolated
beings bound up in another, as if there was an undis-
covered physical bond between them. And in all there
is this sense of justice—a kind of indwelling verdict of
the universal mind, if we may use such an expression,
in virtue of which a man feels not as a single individual
but as all men.
With respect to justice, it is not only necessary to
take the view of one other person than oneself, but that
of many. There may be justice which is very good
justice from the point of view of a party, but very bad
justice from the point of view of a nation. And if we
suppose an agency outside the human race, gifted with
intelligence, and affecting the race, in the way for instance
of causing storms or disturbances of the ground, in order
to judge it with justice we should have to take a stand-
point outside the race of men altogether. We could not
say that this agency was bad. We should have to
judge it with reference to its effect on other sentient
beings.
There are some words which are often uscd in contrast
with each other—egoism and altruism; and each seems
to me unmeaning except as terms in a contrast.
Let us take an instance. A boy has a bag of cakes,
and is going to enjoy them by himself. His parent
stops him, and makes him set up some stumps and
begin to learn to play cricket with another boy. The
enjoyment of the cakes is lost—he has given that up;
but after a little while he has a pleasure which is greater
than that of cakes in solitude. He enters into the life
of the game. He has given up, or been forced to give
up, the pleasure he knew, and he has found a greater
one. What he thought about himself before was that
he liked cakes, now what he thinks about himself is
that he likes cricket. Which of these is the true thought
about himself? Neither, probably, but at any rate it
is more near the truth to say that he likes the cricket.
If now we use the word self to mean that which a
person knows of himself, and it is difficult to see what
other meaning it can have, his self as he knew it at first
was thwarted, was given up, and through that he dis-
covered his true self. And again with the cricket; he
will make the sacrifice of giving that up, voluntarily or
involuntarily, and will find a truer self still.
In general there is not much difficulty in making a
boy find out that he likes cricket; and it is quite pos-
sible for him to eat his cakes first and learn to play
cricket afterwards—the cricket will not come to him as
a thwarting in any sense of what he likes better. But
this ease in entering in to the pursuit only shows that
the boy’s nature is already developed to the level of
enjoying the game. The distinct moral advance would
come in such a case when something which at first was
hard to him to do was presented to him—and the hard-
ness, the unpleasantness is of a double kind, the giving
up of a pursuit or indulgence to which he is accustomed,
Theory and Practice. 27
and the exertion of forming the habits demanded by
the new pursuit.
Now it is unimportant whether the renunciation is
forced or willingly taken. But as a general rule it may
be laid down, that by giving up his own desires as he
feels them at the moment, to the needs and advantage
of those around him, or to the objects which he finds
before him demanding accomplishment, a human being
passes to the discovery of his true self on and on. The
process is limited by the responsibilities which a man
finds come upon him.
The method of moral advance is to acquire a practical
knowledge; he must first see what the advantage of
some one other than himself would be, and then he
must act in accordance with that view of things. Then
having acted and formed a habit, he discovers a response
in himself. He finds that he really cares, and that his
former limited life was not really himself. His body and
the needs of his body, so far as he can observe them,
externally are the same as before; but he has obtained
an inner and unintellectual, but none the less real,
apprehension of what he is.
Thus altruism, or the sacrifice of egoism to others, is
followed by a truer egoism, or assertion of self, and
this process flashed across by the transcendent lights
of religion, wherein, as in the sense of justice and duty,
untold depths in the nature of man are revealed entirely
unexpressed by the intellectual apprehension which we
have of him as an animal frame of a very high degree
of development, is the normal one by which from child-
hood a human being develops into the full responsi-
bilities of a man.
Now both in science and in conduct there are self
elements. In science, getting rid of the self elements
means a truer apprehension of the facts about one; in
conduct, getting rid of the self elements means obtaining
a truer knowledge of what we are—in the way of
feeling more strongly and deeply and being bound and
linked in a larger scale.
Thus without pretending to any scientific accuracy
in the use of terms, we can assign a certain amount of
meaning to the expression—getting rid of self elements.
And all that we can do is to take the rough idea of
this process, and then taking our special subject matter,
apply it. In affairs of life experiments lead to disaster.
But happily science is provided wherein the desire to
put theories into practice can be safely satisfied—and
good results sometimes follow. Were it not for this the
human race might before now have been utopiad from
off the face of the earth.
In experiment, manipulation is everything; we must
be certain of all our conditions, otherwise we fail as-
suredly and have not even the satisfaction of knowing
that our failure is due to the wrongness of our con-
jectures.
And for our purposes we use a subject matter so
simple that the manipulation is easy.
CHAPTER V.
KNOWLEDGE: SELF-ELEMENTS.
I MUST now go with somewhat of detail into the special

subject in which these general truths will be exhibited.
Everything I have to say would be conceived much
more clearly by a very little practical manipulation.
But here I want to put the subject in as general a
light as possible, so that there may be no hindrance to
the judgment of the reader.
And when I use the word “know,” I assume some-
thing else than the possession of a rule, by which it can
be said how facts are. By knowing I mean that the
facts of a subject all lie in the mind ready to come out
vividly into consciousness when the attention is directed
on them. Michael Angelo knew the human frame, he
could tell every little fact about it; if he chose to call
up the image, he would see mentally how each muscle
and fold of the skin lay with regard to the surrounding
parts. We want to obtain a knowledge as good as
Michael Angelo’s. There is a great difference between
Michael Angelo and us; but let that difference be ex-
pressed, not in our way of knowing, but in the difference
between the things he knew and the things we know.
We take a very simple structure and know it as abso-
lutely as he knew the complicated structure of the
human body.
And let us take a block of cubes; any number will do,
but for convenience sake let us take a set of twenty-seven
29
cubes put together so as to form a large cube of twenty-
seven parts. And let each of these cubes be marked
so as to be recognized, and let each have a name so that
it can be referred to. And let us suppose that we have
learnt this block of cubes so that each one is known—
that is to say, its position in the block is known and its
relation to the other blocks.
Now having obtained this knowledge of the block as
it stands in front of us, let us ask ourselves if there is
any self element present in our knowledge of it.
And there is obviously this self element present. We
have learnt the cubes as they stand in accordance with
our own convenience in putting them up. We put the
lowest ones first, and the others on the top of them,
and we distinctly conceive the lower ones as supporting
the upper ones. Now this fact of support has nothing
to do with the block of cubes itself, it depends on the
conditions under which we come to apprehend the block
of cubes, it depends on our position on the surface of
the earth, whereby gravity is an all important factor in
our experience. In fact our sight has got so accustomed
to take gravity into consideration in its view of things,
that when we look at a landscape or object with our
head upside down we do not see it inverted, but we
superinduce on the direct sense impressions our know-
ledge of the action of gravity, and obtain a view differing
very little from what we see when in an upright posi-
tion.
It will be found that every fact about the cubes has
involved in it a reference to up and down. It is by
being above or below that we chiefly remember where
the cubes are. But above and below is a relation which
depends simply on gravity. If it were not for gravity
above and below would be interchangeable terms, in-
stead of expressing a difference of marked importance
Knowledge: Self-elements. 31
to us under our conditions of existence. Now we put
“being above” or “being below” into the cubes them-
selves and feel it a quality in them—it defines their
position. But this above or below really comes from
the conditions in which we are. It is a self element, and
as such, to obtain a true knowledge of the cubes we
must get rid of it.
And now, for the sake of a process which will be ex-
plained afterwards, let us suppose that we cannot move
the block of cubes which we have put up. Let us keep
it fixed.
In order to learn how it is independent of gravity the
best way would be to go to a place where gravity has
virtually ceased to act; at the centre of the earth, for
instance, or in a freely falling shell.
But this is impossible, so me must choose another way.
Let us, then, since we cannot get rid of gravity, see
what we have done already. We have learnt the cubes,
and however they are learnt, it will be found that there
is a certain set of them round which the others are
mentally grouped, as being on the right or left, above
or below. Now to get our knowledge as perfect as we
can before getting rid of the self element up and down,
we have to take as central cubes in our mind different
sets again and again, until there are none which are
primary to us.
Then there remains only the distinction of some being
above others. Now this can only be made to sink out
of the primary place in our thoughts by reversing the
relation. If we turned the block upside down, and
learnt it in this new position, then we should learn the
position of the cubes with regard to each other with
that element in them, which comes from the action of
gravity, reversed. And the true nature of the arrange-
ment to which we added something in virtue of our
sensation of up and down, would become purer and more
isolated in our minds.
We have, however, supposed that the cubes are fixed.
Then, in order to learn them, we must put up another
block showing what they would be like in the supposed
new position. We then take a set of cubes, models of
the original cubes, and by consideration we can put
them in such positions as to be an exact model of what
the block of cubes would be if turned upside down.
And here is the whole point on which the process
depends. We can tell where each cube would come,
but we do not know the block in this new position. I
draw a distinction between the two acts, “to tell where
it would be,” and to “know.” Telling where it would
be is the preparation for knowing. The power of as-
signing the positions may be called the theory of the
block. The actual knowledge is got by carrying out
the theory practically, by putting up the blocks and
becoming able to realize without effort where each
one is.
It is not enough to put up the model blocks in the
reverse position. It is found that this up and down
is a very obstinate element indeed, and a good deal
of work is requisite to get rid of it completely. But
when it is got rid of in one set of cubes, the faculty
is formed of appreciating shape independently of the
particular parts which are above or below on first ex-
amination. We discover in our own minds the faculty
of appreciating the facts of position independent of
gravity and its influence on us. I have found a very
great difference in different minds in this respect. To
some it is easy, to some it is hard.
And to use our old instance, the discovery of this
capacity is like the discovery of a love of justice in the
being who has forced himself to act justly. It is a
Knowledge: Self-elements. 33
capacity for being able to take a view independent of
the conditions under which he is placed, and to feel in
accordance with that view. There is, so far as I know,
no means of arriving immediately at this impartial ap-
preciation of shape. It can only be done by, as it were,
extending our own body so as to include certain cubes,
and appreciating then the relation of the other cubes to
those. And after this, by identifying ourselves with
other cubes, and in turn appreciating the relation of the
other cubes to these. And the practical putting up of
the cubes is the way in which this power is gained. It
springs up with a repetition of the mechanical acts. Thus
there are three processes. 1st, An apprehension of what
the position of the cubes would be. 2nd, An actual put-
ting of them up in accordance with that apprehension.
3rd, The springing up in the mind of a direct feeling of
what the block is, independent of any particular pre-
sentation.
Thus the self element of up and down can be got rid
of out of a block of cubes.
And when even a little block is known like this, the
mind has gained a great deal.
Yet in the apprehension and knowledge of the block
of cubes with the up and down relation in them, there
is more than in the absolute apprehension of them. For
there is the apprehension of their position and also of
the effect of gravity on them in their position.
Imagine ourselves to be translated suddenly to
another part of the universe, and to find there intelli-
gent beings, and to hold conversation with them. If
we told them that we came from a world, and were to
describe the sun to them, saying that it was a bright,
hot body which moved round us, they would reply:
You have told us something about the sun, but you have
also told us something about yourselves.
Thus in the apprehension of the sun as a body moving
round us there is more than in the apprehension of it as
not moving round, for we really in this case apprehend
two things—the sun and our own conditions. But for
the purpose of further knowledge it is most important
that the more abstract knowledge should be acquired.
The self element introduced by the motion of the earth
must be got rid of before the true relations of the solar
system can be made out.
And in our block of cubes, it will be found that feel-
ings about arrangement, and knowledge of space, which
are quite unattainable with our ordinary view of posi-
tion, become simple and clear when this discipline has
been gone through.
And there can be no possible mental harm in going
through this bit of training, for all that it comes to is
looking at a real thing as it actually is—turning it
round and over and learning it from every point of
view.
CHAPTER VI.
FUNCTION OF MIND. SPACE AGAINST METAPHYSICS.
SELF-LIMITATION AND ITS TEST. A PLANE WORLD.
WE now pass on to the question: Are there any other

self elements present in our knowledge of the block of
cubes?
When we have learnt to free it from up and down, is
there anything else to be got rid of?
It seems as if, when the cubes were thus learnt, we had
got as abstract and impersonal a bit of knowledge as
possible.
But, in reality, in the relations of the cubes as we thus
apprehend them there is present a self element to which
the up and down is a mere trifle. If we think we have
got absolute knowledge we are indeed walking on a
thin crust in unconsciousness of the depths below.
We are so certain of that which we are habituated to,
we are so sure that the world is made up of the me-
chanical forces and principles which we familiarly deal
with, that it is more of a shock than a welcome surprise
to us to find how mistaken we mere.
And after all, do we suppose that the facts of distance
and size and shape are the ultimate facts of the world—
is it in truth made up like a machine out of mechanical
parts? If so, where is there room for that other which
we know—more certainly, because inwardly—that reve-
rence and love which make life worth having? No;
these mechanical relations are our means of knowing
35
about the world; they are not reality itself, and their
primary place in our imaginations is due to the famili-
arity which we have with them, and to the peculiar limi-
tations under which we are.
But I do not for a moment wish to go in thought be-
yond physical nature—I do not suppose that in thought
we can. To the mind it is only the body that appears,
and all that I hope to do is to show material relations,
mechanism, arrangements.
But much depends on what kind of material relations
we perceive outside us. A human being, an animal and
a machine are to the mind all merely portions of matter
arranged in certain ways. But the mind can give an
exhaustive account of the machine, account fairly well
for the animal, while the human being it only defines
externally, leaving the real knowledge to be supplied by
other faculties.
But we must not under-estimate the work of the mind,
for it is only by the observation of and thought about the
bodies with which we come into contact that we know
human beings. It is the faculty of thought that puts us
in a position to recognize a soul.
And so, too, about the universe—it is only by correct
thought about it that we can perceive its true moral
nature.
And it will be found that the deadness which we
ascribe to the external world is not really there, but is
put in by us because of our own limitations. It is really
the self elements in our knowledge which make us talk
of mechanical necessity, dead matter. When our limi-
tations fall, we behold the spirit of the world like we be-
hold the spirit of a friend—something which is discerned
in and through the material presentation of a body to
us.
Our thought means are sufficient at present to show
Space against Metaphysics. 37
us human souls; but all except human beings is, as far
as science is concerned, inanimate. One self element
must be got rid of from our perception, and this will be
changed.
The one thing necessary is, that in matters of thinking
we will not admit anything that is not perfectly clear,
palpable and evident. On the mind the only conceiv-
able demand is to seek for facts. The rock on which so
many systems of philosophy have come to grief is the
attempt to put moral principles into nature. Our only
duty is to accept what we find. Man is no more the
centre of the moral world than he is of the physical
world. Then relegate the intellect to its right position
of dealing with facts of arrangement—it can appreciate
structure—and let it simply look on the world and report
on it. We have to choose between metaphysics and
space thought. In metaphysics we tind lofty ideals—
principles enthroned high in our souls, but which reduce
the world to a phantom, and ourselves to the lofty spec-
tators of an arid solitude. On the other hand, if we
follow Kant’s advice, we use our means and find realities
linked together, and in the physical interplay of forces
and connexion of structure we behold the relations
between spirits—those dwelling in man and those above
him.
It is difficult to explain this next self element that has
to be removed from the block of cubes; it requires a
little careful preparation, in fact our language hardly
affords us the means. But it is possible to approach in-
directly, and to detect the self-element by means of an
analogy.
If we suspect there be some condition affecting our-
selves which make us perceive things not as they are,
but falsely, then it is possible to test the matter by mak-
ing the supposition of other beings subject to certain
conditions, and then examining what the effect on their
experience would be of these conditions.
Thus if we make up the appearances which would
present themselves to a being subject to a limitation or
condition, we shall find that this limitation or condition,
when unrecognized by him, presents itself as a general
law of his outward world, or as properties and qualities
of the objects external to him. He will, moreover, find
certain operations possible, others impossible, and the
boundary line between the possible and impossible will
depend quite as much on the conditions under which he
is as on the nature of the operations.
And if we find that in our experience of the outward
world there are analogous properties and qualities of
matter, analogous possibilities and impossibilities, then
it will show to us that we in our turn are under analo-
gous limitations, and that what we perceive as the ex-
ternal world is both the external world and our own
conditions. And the task before us will be to separate
the two. Now the problem we take up here is this—to
separate the self elements from the true fact. To separ-
ate them not merely as an outward theory and intelligent
apprehension, but to separate them in the consciousness
itself, so that our power of perception is raised to a
higher level. We find out that we are under limitations.
Our next step is to so fatniliarize ourselves with the real
aspect of things, that we perceive like beings not under
our limitations. Or more truly, we find that inward
soul which itself not subject to these limitations, is
awakened to its own natural action, when the verdicts
conveyed to it through the senses are purged of the self
elements introduced by the senses.
Everything depends on this—Is there a native and
spontaneous power of apprehension, which springs into
activity when we take the trouble to present to it a view
Self-limitation and its Test. 39
from which the self elements are eliminated? About
this every one must judge for limself. But the pro-
cess whereby this inner vision is called on is a de-
finite one.
And just as a human being placed in natural human
relationships finds in himself a spontaneous motive
towards the fulfilment of them, discovers in himself a
being whose motives transcend the limits of bodily self-
regard, so we should espect to find in our minds a power
which is ready to apprehend a more absolute order of
fact than that which comes through the senses.
I do not mean a theoretical power. A theory is always
about it, and about it only. I mean an inner view,
a vision whereby the seeing mind as it were identifies
itself with the thing seen. Not the tree of knowledge,
but of the inner and vital sap which builds up the tree
of knowledge.
And if this point is settled, it will be of some use in
answering the question: What are we? Are we then
bodies only? This question has been answered in the
negative by our instincts. Why should we despair of a
rational answer? Let us adopt our space thought and
develop it.
The supposition which we must make is the following.
Let us imagine a smooth surface—like the surface of a
table; but let the solid body at which we are looking be
very thin, so that our surface is more like the surface of
a thin sheet of metal than the top of a table.
And let us imagine small particles, like particles of
dust, to lie on this surface, and to be attracted down-
wards so that they keep on the surface. But let us sup-
pose them to move freely over the surface. Let them
never in their movements rise one over the other; let
them all singly and collectively be close to the surface.
And let us suppose all sorts of attractions and repulsions
between these atoms, and let them have all kinds of
movements like the atoms of our matter have.
Then there may be conceived a whole world, and
various kinds of beings as formed out of this matter.
The peculiarity about this world and these beings would
be, that neither the inanimate nor the animate members
of it would move away from the surface. Their move-
ments would all lie in one plane, a plane parallel to and
very near the surface on which they are.
And if we suppose a vast mass to be formed out of
these atoms, and to lie like a great round disk on the
surface, compact and cohering closely together, then this
great disk would afford a support for the smaller shapes,
which we may suppose to be animate beings. The
smaller shapes mould be attracted to the great disk, but
would be arrested at its rim. They would tend to the
centre of the disk, but be unable to get nearer to the
centre than its rim.
Thus, as we are attracted to the centre of the earth,
but walk on its surface, the beings on this disk would be
attracted to its centre, but walk on its rim. The force
of attraction which they would feel would be the attrac-
tion of the disk. The other force of attraction, acting
perpendicularly to the plane which keeps them and all the
matter of their world to the surface, they would know
nothing about. For they cannot move either towards this
force or away from it; and the surface is quite smooth,
so that they feel no friction in their movement over it.
Now let us realize clearly one of these beings as he
proceeds along the rim of his world. Let us imagine
him in the form of an outline of a human being, with no
thickness except that of the atoms of his world. As to
the mode in which he walks, we must imagine that he
proceeds by springs or hops, because there would be no
room for his limbs to pass each other.
Self-limitation and its Test. 41
Imagine a large disk on the table before you, and a
being, such as the one described, proceeding round it.
Let there be small movable particles surrounding him,
which move out of his way as he goes along, and let
these serve him for respiration; let them constitute an
atmosphere.
Forwards and backwards would be to such a being
direction along the rim—the direction in which he was
proceeding and its reverse.
Then up and down would evidently be the direction
away from the disk’s centre and towards it. Thus back-
wards and forwards, up and down, mould both lie in the
plane in which he was.
And he would have no other liberty of movement
except these. Thus the words right and left would have
no meaning to him. All the directions in which he
could move, or could conceive movement possible, would
be exhausted when he had thought of the directions
along the rim and at right angles to it, both in the plane.
What he would call solid bodies, would be groups of
the atoms of his world cohering together. Such a mass
of atoms would, we know, have a slight thickness;
namely, the thickness of a single atom. But of this he
would know nothing. He would say, “A solid body
has two dimensions—height (by how much it goes away
from the rim) and thickness (by how much it lies along
the rim).” Thus a solid would be a two-dimensional
body, and a solid would be bounded by lines. Lines
would be all that he could see of a solid body.
Thus one of the results of the limitations under which
he exists would be, that he would say, “There are only
two dimensions in real things.”
In order for his world to be permanent, we must
suppose the surface on which he is to be very compact,
compared to the particles of his matter; to be very
rigid; and, if he is not to observe it by the friction of
matter moving on it, to be very smooth. And if it is
very compact with regard to his matter, the vibrations of
the surface must have the effect of disturbing the portions
of his matter, and of separating compound bodies up
into simpler ones.
Another consequence of the limitation under which
this being lies, would be the following:—If we cut out
C C´
A B A´ B´
Fig.1
C C´
A B B´ A´
Fig.2
from the corners of a piece of paper two triangles, A B C

and A’B’C’, and suppose them to be reduced to such
a thinness that they are capable of being put on to the
imaginary surface, and of being observed by the flat,
being like other bodies known to him; he will, after
studying the bounding lines, which are all that he can see
or touch, come to the conclusion that they are equal and
similar in every respect ; and he can conceive the one
occupying the same space as the other occupies, without
its being altered in any way.
If, however, instead of putting down these triangles
into the surface on which the supposed being lives, as
shown in Fig. I, we first of all turn one of them over,
A Plane World. 43
and then put them down, then the plane-being has pre-
sented to him two triangles, as shown in Fig. 2.
And if he studies these, he finds that they are equal
in size and similar in every respect. But he cannot
make the one occupy the same space as the other one;
this will become evident if the triangles be moved about
on the surface of a table. One will not lie on the same
portion of the table that the other has marked out by
lying on it.
Hence the plane-being by no means could make the
one triangle in this case coincide with the space occupied
by the other, nor would he be able to conceive the one
as coincident with the other.
The reason of this impossibility is, not that the one
cannot be made to coincide, but that before having been
put down on his plane it has been turned round. It
has been turned, using a direction of motion which the
plane-being has never had any experience of, and which
therefore he cannot use in his mental work any more
than in his practical endeavours.
Thus, owing to his limitations, there is a certain line
of possibility which he cannot overstep. But this line
does not correspond to what is actually possible and
impossible. It corresponds to a certain condition affect-
ing him, not affecting the triangle. His saying that it
is impossible to make the two triangles coincide, is an
assertion, not about the triangles, but about himself.
Now, to return to our own world, no doubt there are
many assertions which we make about the external
world which are really assertions about ourselves. And
we have a set of statements which are precisely similar
to those which the plane-being would make about his
surroundings.
Thus, he would say, there are only two independent
directions; we say there are only three.
He would say that solids are bounded by lines; we
say that solids are bounded by planes.
Moreover, there are figures about which we assert
exactly the same kind of impossibility as his plane-being
did about the triangles in Fig. 2.
We know certain shapes which are equal the one to
the other, which are exactly similar, and yet which we
cannot make fit into the same portion of space, either
practically or by imagination.
If we look at our two hands we see this clearly,
though the two hands are a complicated case of a very
common fact of shape. Now, there is one way in
which the right hand and the left hand may practically
be brought into likeness. If we take the right-hand
glove and the left-hand glove, they will not fit any more
than the right hand will coincide with the left hand.
But if we turn one glove inside out, then it will fit. Now,
to suppose the same thing done with the solid hand as
is done with the glove when it is turned inside out, we
must suppose it, so to speak, pulled through itself. If
the hand were inside the glove all the time the glove
was being turned inside out, then, if such an operation
were possible, the right hand would be turned into an
exact model of the left hand. Such an operation is
impossible. But curiously enough there is a precisely
similar operation which, if it were possible, would, in a
plane, turn the one triangle in Fig. 2 into the exact
copy of the other.
Look at the triangle in Fig. 2, A B C, and imagine
the point A to move into the interior of the triangle and
to pass through it, carrying after it the parts of the lines
A B and A C to which it is attached, we should have
finally a triangle A B C, which was quite like the other
of the two triangles A’B’C’ in Fig. 2.
Thus we know the operation which produces the
A Plane World. 45
result of the “pulling through” is not an impossible one
when the plane-being is concerned. Then may it not be
that there is a way in which the results of the impossible
operation of pulling a hand through could be performed?
The question is an open one. Our feeling of it being
impossible to produce this result in any way, may be
because it really is impossible, or it may be a useful bit
of information about ourselves.
Now at this point my special work comes in. If there
be really a four-dimensional world, and we are limited
A B
A´
C´
B´
to a space or three-dimensional view, then either we are

absolutely three-dimensional with no experience at all
or capacity of apprehending four-dimensional facts, or
we may be, as far as our outward experience goes, so
limited; but we may really be four-dimensional beings
whose consciousness is by certain undetermined con-
ditions limited to a section of the real space.
Thus we may really be like the plane-beings mentioned
above, or we may be in such a condition that our percep-
tions, not ourselves, are so limited. The question is one
which calls for experiment.
We know that if we take an animal, such as a dog
or cat, we can by careful training, and by using rewards
and punishment, make them act in a certain way, in
certain defined cases, in accordance with justice; we
can produce the mechanical action. But the feeling
of justice will not be aroused; it will be but a mere
outward conformity. But a human being, if so trained,
and seeing others so acting, gets a feeling of justice.
Now, if we are really four-dimensional, by going
through those acts which correspond to a four-dimen-
sional experience (so far as we can), we shall obtain an
apprehension of four-dimensional existence—not with
the outward eye, but essentially with the mind.
And after a number of years of experiment which were
entirely nugatory, I can now lay it down as a verifiable
fact, that by taking the proper steps we can feel four-
dimensional existence, that the human being somehow,
and in some way, is not simply a three-dimensional
being—in what way it is the province of science to
discover. All that I shall do here is, to put forward
certain suppositions which, in an arbitrary and forced
manner, give an outline of the relation of our body to
four-dimensional existence, and show how in our minds
we have faculties by which we recognise it.
CHAPTER VII.
SELF ELEMENTS IN OUR CONSCIOUSNESS.
IT is often taken for granted that our consciousness of

ourselves and of our own feelings has a sort of direct
and absolute value.
It is supposed to afford a testimony which does not
require to be sifted like our consciousness of external
events. But in reality it needs far more criticism to be
applied to it than any other mode of apprehension.
To a certain degree we can sift our experience of
the external world, and divide it into two portions.
We can determine the self elements and the realities.
But with regard to our own nature and emotions, the
discovery which makes a science possible has yet to be
made.
There are certain indications, however, springing from
our observation of our own bodies, which have a certain
degree of interest.
It is found that the processes of thought and feeling
are connected with the brain. If the brain is disturbed,
thoughts, sights, and sounds come into the conscious-
ness which have no objective cause in the external
world. Hence we may conclusively say that the human
being, whatever he is, is in contact with the brain, and
through the brain with the body, and through the body
with the external world.
It is the structures and movements in the brain which
47
the human being perceives. It is by a structure in the
brain that he apprehends nature, not immediately.
The most beautiful sights and sounds have no effect
on a human being unless there is the faculty in the
brain of taking them in and handing them on to the
consciousness.
Hence, clearly, it is the movements and structure of
the minute portions of matter forming the brain which
the consciousness perceives. And it is only by models
and representations made in the stuff of the brain that
the mind knows external changes.
Now, our brains are well furnished with models and
representations of the facts and events of the external
world.
But a most important fact still requires its due weight
to be laid upon it.
These models and representations are made on a very
minute scale—the particles of brain matter which form
images and representations are beyond the power of the
microscope in their minuteness. Hence the conscious-
ness primarily apprehends the movements of matter of
a degree of smallness which is beyond the power of
observation in any other way.
Hence we have a means of observing the movements
of the minute portions of matter. Let us call those
portions of the brain matter which are directly instru-
mental in making representations of the external world
—let us call them brain molecules.
Now, these brain molecules are very minute portions
of matter indeed; generally they are made to go
through movements and form structures in such a way
as to represent the movements and structures of the
external world of masses around us.
But it does not follow that the structures and move-
ments which they perform of their own nature are
Self Elements in our Consciousness. 49
identical with the movements of the portions of matter
which we see around us in the world of matter.
It may be that these brain molecules have the power
of four-dimensional movement, and that they can go
through four-dimensional movements and form four-
dimensional structures.
If so, there is a practical way of learning the move-
ments of the very small particles of matter—by observ-
ing, not what we can see, but what we can think.
For, suppose these small molecules of the brain were
to build up structures and go through movements not
in accordance with the rule of representing what goes
on in the external world, but in accordance with their
own activity, then they might go through four-dimen-
sional movements and form four-dimensional structures.
And these movements and structures would be ap-
prehended by the consciousness along with the other
movements and structures, and would seem as real as
the others—but would have no correspondence in the
external world.
They would be thoughts and imaginations, not ob-
servations of external facts.
Now, this field of investigation is one which requires
to be worked at.
At present it is only those structures and movements
of the brain molecules which correspond to the realities
of our three-dimensional space which are in general
worked at consistently. But in the practical part of
this book it will be found that by proper stimulus the
brain molecules will arrange themselves in structures
representing a four-dimensional existence. It only
requires a certain amount of care to build up mental
models of higher space existences. In fact, it is probably
part of the difficulty of forming three-dimensional
brain models, that the brain molecules have to be limited
in their own freedom of motion to the requirements of
the limited space in which our practical daily life is
carried on.
Note.—For my own part I should say that all those confusions in
remembering which come from an image taking the place of the
original mental model—as, for instance, the difficulty in remember-
ing which way to turn a screw, and the numerous cases of images
in thought transference—may be due to a toppling over in the
brain, four-dimensionalwise, of the structures formed—which
structures would be absolutely safe from being turned into image
structures if the brain molecules moved only three-dimensional-
wise.
It is remarkable how in science “explaining” means

the reference of the movements and tendencies to
movement of the masses about us to the movements
and tendencies to movement of the minute portions of
matter.
Thus, the behaviour of gaseous bodies—the pressure
which they exert, the laws of their cooling and inter-
mixture are explained by tracing the movements of the
very minute particles of which they are composed.
CHAPTER VIII.
RELATION OF LOWER TO HIGHER SPACE. THEORY
OF THE ÆTHER.
AT this point of our inquiries the best plan is to turn

to the practical work, and try if the faculty of thinking
in higher space can be awakened in the mind.
The general outline of the method is the same as that
which has been described for getting rid of the limita-
tion of up and down from a block of cubes. We sup-
posed that the block was fixed; and to get the sense of
what it would be when gravity acted in a different way
with regard to it, me made a model of it as it would be
under the new circumstances. We thought out the
relations which would exist; and by practising this new
arrangement we gradually formed the direct appre-
hension.
And so with higher-space arrangements. We cannot
put them up actually, but we can say how they would
look and be to the touch from various sides. And we
can put up the actual appearances of them, not alto-
gether, but as models succeeding one another; and by
contemplation and active arrangement of these different
views we call upon our inward power to manifest itself.
In preparing our general plan of work, it is necessary
to make definite assumptions with regard to our world,
our universe, or we may call it our space, in relation to
the wider universe of four-dimensional space.
What our relation to it may be, is altogether un-
determined. The real relationship will require a great
51
deal of study to apprehend, and when apprehended will
seem as natural to us as the position of the earth among
the other planets does to us now.
But we have not got to wait for this exploration in
order to commence our work of higher-space thought,
for we know definitely that whatever our real physical
relationship to this wider universe may be, we are practi-
cally in exactly the same relationship to it as the
creature we have supposed living on the surface of a
smooth sheet is to the world of threefold space.
And this relationship of a surface to a solid or of a
solid, as me conjecture, to a higher solid, is one which
we often find in nature. A surface is nothing more nor
less than the relation between two things. Two bodies
touch each other. The surface is the relationship of one
to the other.
Again, we see the surface of water.
Thus our solid existence may be the contact of two
four-dimensional existences with each other; and just as
sensation of touch is limited to the surface of the body,
so sensation on a larger scale may be limited to this
solid surface.
And it is a fact worthy of notice, that in the surface
of a fluid different laws obtain from those which hold
throughout the mass. There are a whole series of facts
which are grouped together under the name of surface
tensions, which are of great importance in physics, and
by which the behaviour of the surfaces of liquids is
governed.
And it may well be that the laws of our universe are
the surface tensions of a higher universe.
But these expressions, it is evident, afford us no practi-
cal basis for investigation. We must assume something
more definite, and because more definite (in the absence
of details drawn from experience), more arbitrary.
Relation of Lower to Higher Space. 53
And we will assume that the conditions under which
we human beings are, exactly resemble those under
which the plane-beings are placed, which have been
described.
This forms the basis of our work; and the practical
part of it consists in doing, with regard to higher
space, that which a plane-being would do with regard
to our space in order to enable himself to realize what
it was.
If we imagine one of these limited creatures whose
life is cramped and confined studying the facts of space
existence, we find that he can do it in two ways. He
can assume another direction in addition to those which
he knows; and he can, by means of abstract reasoning,
say what would take place in an ampler kind of space
than his own. All this would be formal work. The
conclusions would be abstract possibilities.
The other mode of study is this. He can take some
of these facts of his higher space and he can ponder
over them in his mind, and can make up in his plane
world those different appearances which one and the
same solid body would present to him, and then he may
try to realize inwardly what his higher existence is.
Now, it is evident that if the creature is absolutely
confined to a two-dimensional existence, then anything
more than such existence will always be a mere abstract
and formal consideration to him.
But if this higher-space thought becomes real to him,
if he finds in his mind a possibility of rising to it, then
indeed he knows that somehow he is not limited to his
apparent world. Everything he sees and comes into
contact with may be two-dimensional; but essentially,
somehow, himself he is not two-dimensional merely.
And a precisely similar piece of work is before us.
Assuming as we must that our outer experience is
limited to three-dimensional space, we shall make up
the appearances which the very simplest higher bodies
would present to us, and we shall gradually arrive at a
more than merely formal and abstract appreciation of
them. We shall discover in ourselves a faculty of ap-
prehension of higher space similar to that which we have
of space. And thus we shall discover, each for himself,
that, limited as his senses are, he essentiaily somehow
is not limited.
The mode and method in which this consciousness
will be made general, is the same in which the spirit of
an army is formed.
The individuals enter into the service from various
motives, but each and all have to go through those
movements and actions which correspond to the unity
of a whole formed out of different members. The inner
apprehension which lies in each man of a participation
in a life wider than that of his individual body, is
awakened and responds; and the active spirit of the
army is formed. So with regard to higher space, this
faculty of apprehending intuitively four-dimensional
relationships will be taken up because of its practical
use. Individuals will be practically employed to do it
by society because of the larger faculty of thought
which it gives. In fact, this higher-space thought means
as an affair of mental training simply the power of ap-
prehending the results arising from four independent
causes. It means the power of dealing with a greater
number of details.
And when this faculty of higher-space thought has
been formed, then the faculty of apprehending that
higher existence in which men have part, will come
into being.
It is necessary to guard here against there being
ascribed to this higher-space thought any other than
Relation of Lower to Higher Space. 55
an intellectual value. It has no moral value whatever.
Its only connexion with moral or ethical considerations
is the possibility it will afford of recognizing more of
the facts of the universe than we do now. There is a
gradual process going on which may be described as
the getting rid of self elements. This process is one of
knowledge and feeling, and either may be independent
of the other. At present, in respect of feeling, we are
much further on than in respect to understanding, and
the reason is very much this: When a self element has
been got rid of in respect of feeling, the new appre-
hension is put into practice, and we live it into our
organization. But when a self element has been got rid
of intellectually, it is allowed to remain a matter of
theory, not vitally entering into the mental structure of
individuals.
Thus up and down was discovered to be a self element
more than a thousand years ago; but, except as a matter
of theory, we are perfect barbarians in this respect up to
the present day.
We have supposed a being living in a plane world,
that is, a being of a very small thickness in a direction
perpendicular to the surface on which he is.
Now, if we are situated analogously with regard to
an ampler space, there must be some element in our
experience corresponding to each element in the plane-
being’s experience.
And it is interesting to ask, in the case of the plane-
being, what his opinion would be with respect to the
surface on which he was.
He would not recognize it as a surface with which
he was in contact; he would have no idea of a motion
away from it or towards it.
But he would discover its existence by the fact that
movements were transmitted along it. By its vibrating
and quivering, it would impart movement to the par-
ticles of matter lying on it.
Hence, he would consider this surface to be a medium
lying between bodies, and penetrating them. It would
appear to him to have no weight, but to be a powerful
means of transmitting vibrations. Moreover, it would
be unlike any other substance with which he was
acquainted, inasmuch as he could never get rid of
it. However perfect a vacuum be made, there would
be in this vacuum just as much of this unknown me-
dium as there was before.
Moreover, this surface would not hinder the move-
ment of the particles of matter over it. Being smooth,
matter would slide freely over it. And this would seem
to him as if matter went freely through the medium.
Then he would also notice the fact that vibrations
of this medium would tear asunder portions of matter.
The plane surface, being very compact, compared to
the masses of matter on it, would, by its vibrations,
shake them into their component parts.
Hence he would have a series of observations which
tended to show that this medium was unlike any or-
dinary matter with which he was acquainted. Although
matter passed freely through it, still by its shaking it
could tear matter in pieces. These would be very
difficult properties to reconcile in one and the same
substance. Then it is weightless, and it is everywhere.
It might well be that he would regard the suppo-
sition of there being a plane surface, on which he was,
as a preferable one to the hypothesis of this curious
medium; and thus he might obtain a proof of his limi-
tations from his observations.
Now, is there anything in our experience which
corresponds to this medium which the plane-being gets
to observe ?
Theory of the Æther. 57
Do we suppose the existence of any medium through
which matter freely moves, which yet by its vibrations
destroys the combinations of matter—some medium
which is present in every vacuum, however perfect,
which penetrates all bodies, and yet can never be laid
hold of?
These are precisely observations which have been
made.
The substance which possesses all these qualities is
called the æther. And the properties of the æther are
a perpetual object of investigation in science.
Now, it is not the place here to go into details, as
all we want is a basis for work; and however arbitrary
it may be, it will serve if it enables us to investigate
the properties of higher space.
We will suppose, then, that we are not in, but on the
æther, only not on it in any known direction, but that
the new direction is that which comes in. The æther
is a smooth body, along which we slide, being distant
from it at every point about the thickness of an atom;
or, if we take our mean distance, being distant from
it by half the thickness of an atom measured in this
new direction.
Then, just as in space objects, a cube, for instance,
can stand on the surface of a table, or on the surface
over which the plane-being moves, so on the æther can
stand a higher solid.
All that the plane-being sees or touches of a cube,
is the square on which it rests.
So all that we could see or touch of a higher solid
would be that part by which it stood on the æther;
and this part would be to us exactly like any ordinary
solid body. The base of a cube would be to the
plane-being like a square which is to him an ordinary
solid.
Now, the two ways, in which a plane-being would
apprehend a solid body, would be by the successive
appearances to him of it as it passed through his plane;
and also by the different views of one and the same solid
body which he got by turning the body over, so that
different parts of its surface come into contact with his
plane.
And the practical work of learning to think in four-
dimensional space, is to go through the appearances
which one and the same higher solid has.
Often, in the course of investigation in nature, we
come across objects which have a certain similarity, and
yet which are in parts entirely different. The work of the
mind consists in forming an idea of that whole in which
they cohere, and of which they are simple presentations.
The work of forming an idea of a higher solid is the
most simple and most definite of all such mental
operations.
If we imagine a plane world in which there are
objects which correspond to our sun, to the planets, and,
in fact, to all our visible universe, we must suppose a
surface of enormous extent on which great disks slide,
these disks being worlds of various orders of magni-
tude.
These disks would some of them be central, and hot,
like our sun; round them would circulate other disks,
like our planets.
And the systems of sun and planets must be con-
ceived as moving with great velocity over the surface
which bears them all.
And the movements of the atoms of these worlds
will be the course of events in such worlds. As the
atoms weave together, and form bodies altering, be-
coming, and ceasing, so will bodies be formed and
disappear.
Theory of the Æther. 59
And the plane which bears them all on its smooth
surface will simply be a support to all these movements,
and influence them in no way.
Is to be conscious of being conscious of being hot,
the same thing as to be conscious of being hot? It is
not the same. There is a standing outside, and objecti-
vation of a state of mind which every one would say in
the first state was very different from the simple con-
sciousness. But the consciousness must do as much in
the first case as in the second. Hence the feeling hot
is very different from the consciousness of feeling hot.
A feeling which we always have, we should not be
conscious of—a sound always present ceases to be heard.
Hence consciousness is a concomitant of change, that
is, of the contact between one state and another.
If a being living on such a plane were to investigate
the properties, he would have to suppose the solid to
pass through his plane in order to see the whole of
its surface. Thus we may imagine a cube resting on
a table to begin to penetrate through the table. If the
cube passes through the surface, making a clean cut all
round it, so that the plane-being can come up to it and
investigate it, then the different parts of the cube as it
passes through the plane will be to him squares, which
he apprehends by the boundary lines. The cut which
there is in his plane must be supposed not to be noticed,
he must be able to go right up to the cube without hin-
drance, and to touch and see that thin slice of it which
is just above the plane.
And so, when we study a higher solid, we must sup-
pose that it passes through the æther, and that we only
see that thin three-dimensional section of it which is
just about to pass from one side to the other of the
æther.
When we look on a solid as a section of a higher
solid, we have to suppose the æther broken through,
only we must suppose that it runs up to the edge of the
body which is penetrating it, so that we are aware of
no breach of continuity.
The surface of the æther must then be supposed to
have the properties of the surface of a fluid; only, of
course, it is a solid three-dimensional surface, not a two-
dimensional surface.
CHAPTER IX.
ANOTHER VIEW OF THE ÆTHER. MATERIAL AND
ÆTHERIAL BODIES.
WE have supposed in the case of a plane world that the

surface on which the movements take place is inactive,
except by its vibrations. It is simply a smooth support.
For the sake of simplicity let us call this smooth
surface “the æther” in the case of a plane world.
The æther then we have imagined to be simply a
smooth, thin sheet, not possessed of any definite struc-
ture, but excited by real disturbances of the matter on
it into vibrations, which carry the effect of these dis-
turbances as light and heat to other portions of matter.
Now, it is possible to take an entirely different view of
the æther in the case of a plane world.
Let us imagine that, instead of the æther being a
smooth sheet serving simply as a support, it is de-
finitely marked and grooved.
Let us imagine these grooves and channels to be very
minute, but to be definite and permanent.
Then, let us suppose that, instead of the matter which
slides in the zther having attractions and repulsions of
its own, that it is quite inert, and has only the properties
of inertia.
That is to say, taking a disk or a plane world as a
specimen, the whole disk is sliding on the æther in
virtue of a certain momentum which it has, and certain
portions of its matter fit into the grooves in the æther,
and move along those grooves.
The size of the portions is determined by the size of
61
the grooves. And let us call those portions of matter
which occupy the breadth of a groove, atoms. Then it
is evident that the disk sliding along over the æther, its
atoms will move according to the arrangement of the
grooves over which the disk slides. If the grooves at
any one particular place come close together, there will
be a condensation of matter at that place when the
disk passes over it ; and if the grooves separate, there
will be a rarefaction of matter.
If we imagine five particles, each slipping along in its
own groove, if the particles are arranged in the form of
a regular pentagon, and the grooves are parallel, then
these five particles, moving evenly on, will maintain
their positions with regard to one another, and a body
would exist like a pentagon, lasting as long as the
grooves remained parallel.
But if, after some distance had been traversed by the
disk, and these five particles were brought into a region
where one of the grooves tended away from the others,
the shape of the pentagon would be destroyed, it would
become some irregular figure. And it is easy to see
that if the grooves separated, and other grooves came
in amongst them, along which other portions of matter
were sliding, that the pentagon would disappear as an
isolated body, that its constituent matter would be
separated, and that its particles would enter into other
shapes as constituents of them, and not of the original
pentagon.
Thus, in cases of greater complication, an elaborate
structure may be supposed to be formed, to alter, and to
pass away; its origin, growth, and decay being due, not
to any independent motion of the particles constituting
it, but to the movement of the disk whereby its portions
of matter were brought to regions where there was a
particular disposition of the grooves.
Another View of the Æther. 63
Then the nature of the shape would really be deter-
mined by the grooves, not by the portions of matter
which passed over them-they would become manifest
as giving rise to a material form when a disk passed
over them, but they would subsist independently of the
disk; and if another disk were to pass over the same
grooves, exactly the same material structures would
spring up as came into being before.
If we make a similar supposition about our æther
along which our earth slides, we may conceive the
movements of the particles of matter to be determined,
not by attractions or repulsions exerted on one another,
but to be set in existence by the alterations in the
directions of the grooves of the ajther along which
they are proceeding.
If the grooves were all parallel, the earth would pro-
ceed without any other motion than that of its path in
the heavens.
But with an alteration in the direction of the grooves,
the particles, instead of proceeding uniformly with the
mass of the earth, would begin to move amongst each
other. And by a sufficiently complicated arrangement
of grooves it may be supposed that all the movements
of the forms we see around us are due to interweaving
and variously disposed grooves.
Thus the movements, which any body goes through,
would depend on the arrangement of the æthereal
grooves along which it was passing. As long as the
grooves remain grouped together in approximately the
same way, it would maintain its existence as the same
body; but when the grooves separated, and became in-
volved with the grooves of other objects, this body
would cease to exist separately.
Thus the separate existences of the earth might con-
ceivably be due to the disposition of those parts of the
æther over which the earth passed. And thus any
object would have to be separated into two parts, one
the æthereal form, or modification which lasted, the
other the material particles which, coming on with
blind momentum, were directed into such movements as
to produce the actual objects around us.
In this way there would be two parts in any organism,
the material part and the æthereal part. There would
be the material body, which soon passes and becomes
indistinguishable from any other material body, and the
æthereal body which remains.
Now, if we direct our attention to the material body,
we see the phenomena of growth, decay, and death, the
coming and the passing away of a living being, isolated
during his existence, absolutely merged at his death into
the common storehouse of matter.
But if we regard the æthereal body, we find something
different. We find an organism which is not so abso-
lutely separated from the surrounding organisms—an
organism which is part of the æther, and which is linked
to other æthereal organisms by its very substance—an
organism between which and others there exists a unity
incapable of being broken, and a common life which is
rather marked than revealed by the matter which passes
over it. The æthereal body moreover remains per-
manently when the material body has passed away.
The correspondences between the æthereal body and
the life of an organism such as we know, is rather to be
found in the emotional region than in the one of out-
ward observation. To the æthereal form, all parts of it
are equally one; but part of this form corresponds to
the future of the material being, part of it to his past.
Thus, care for the future and regard for the past would
be the way in which the material being would exhibit
the unity of the zthereal body, which is both his past,
Material and Æthereal Bodies. 65
his present, and his future. That is to say, suppose the
æthereal body capable of receiving an injury, an injury
in one part of it would correspond to an injury in a
man’s past; an injury in another part,—that which the
material body was traversing—would correspond to an
injury to the man at the present moment; injury to the
æthereal body at another part, would correspond to
injury coming to the man at some future time. And
the self-preservation of the æthereal body, supposing it
to have such a motive, would in the last case be the
motive of regarding his own future to the man. And
inasmuch as the man felt the real unity of his æthereal
body, and did not confine his attention to his material
body, which is absolutely disunited at every moment
from its future and its past-inasmuch as lie apprehended
his æthereal unity, insomuch would he care for his future
welfare, and consider it as equal in importance to his
present comfort. The correspondence between emotion
and physical fact would be, that the emotion of regard
corresponded to an undiscerned æthereal unity. And
then also, just as the two tips of two fingers put down
on a plane, would seem to a plane-being to be two com-
pletely different bodies, not connected together, so one
and the same zthereal body might appear as two
distinct material bodies, and any regard between the
two would correspond to an apprehension of their
æthereal unity. In the supposition of an æthereal body,
it is not necessary to keep to the idea of the rigidity and
permanence of thc grooves defining the motion of the
matter which, passing along, exhibits the material body.
The æthereal body may have a life of its own, relations
with other æthereal bodies, and a life as full of vicissi-
tudes as that of the material body, which in its total
orbit expresses in the movements of matter one phase
in the life of the æthereal body.
But there are certain obvious considerations which
prevent any serious dwelling on these speculations—they
are only introduced here in order to show how the con-
ception of higher space lends itself to the representation
of certain indefinite apprehensions,—such as that of the
essential unity of the race,—and affords a possible clue
to correspondences between the emotional and the
physical life.
The whole question of our relation to the æther has ~
to be settled. That which we call the æther is far more
probably the surface of a liquid, and the phenomena we
observe due to surface tensions. Indeed, the physical
questions concern us here nothing at all. It is easy
enough to make some supposition which gives us a
standing ground to discipline our higher-space percep-
tion; and when that is trained, we shall turn round and
look at the facts.
The conception which me shall form of the universe
will undoubtedly be as different from our present one,
as the Copernican view differs from the more pleasant
view of a wide immovable earth beneath a vast vault.
Indeed, any conception of our place in the universe will
be more agreeable than the thought of being on a
spinning ball, kicked into space without any means of
communication with any other inhabitants of the
universe.
CHAPTER X.
HIGHER SPACE AND HIGHER BEING. PERCEPTION AND
INSPIRATION.
IN the instinctive and sense perception of man and

nature there is all hidden, which reflection afterwards
brings into consciousness.
We are conscious of somewhat higher than each
individual man when we look at men. In some, this
consciousness reaches an extreme pitch, and becomes
a religious apprehension. But in none is it otherwise
than instinctive. The apprehension is sufficiently defi-
nite to be certain. But it is not expressible to us in
terms of the reason.
Now, I have shown that by using the conception of
higher space it is easy enough to make a supposition
which shall show all mankind as physical parts of one
whole. Our apparent isolation as bodies from each
other is by no means so necessary to assume as it
would appear. But, of course, a supposition of that
kind is of no value, except as showing a possibility.
If we came to examine into the matter closely, we
should find a natural relationship which accounted for
our consciousness being limited as at present it is.
The first thing to be done, is to organize our higher-
space perception, and then look. We cannot tell what
external objects will blend together into the unity of a
higher being. But just as the riddle of the two hands
becomes clear to us from our first inspection of higher
space, so will thcre grow before our eyes greater unities
and greater surprises.
67
We have been subject to a limitation of the most
absurd character. Let us open our eyes and see the
facts.
Now, it requires some training to open the eyes.
For many years I worked at the subject without the
slightest success. All was mere formalism. But by
adopting the simplest means, and by a more thorough
knowledge of space, the whole flashed clear.
Space shapes can only be symbolical of four-dimen-
sional shapes; and if we do not deal with space shapes
directly, but only treat them by symbols on the plane—
as in analytical geometry—we are trying to get a per-
ception of higher space through symbols of symbols,
and the task is hopeless. But a direct study of space
leads us to the knowledge of higher space. And with
the knowledge of higher space there come into our ken
boundless possibilities. All those things may be real,
whereof saints and philosophers have dreamed.
Looking on the fact of life, it has become clear to
the human mind, that justice, truth, purity, are to be
sought—that they are principles which it is well to
serve. And men have invented an abstract devotion
to these, and all comes together in the grand but vague
conception of Duty.
But all these thoughts are to those which spring up
before us as the shadow on a bank of clouds of a great
mountain is to the mountain itself. On the piled-up
clouds falls the shadow—vast, imposing, but dark, colour-
less. If the beholder but turns, he beholds the mountain
itself, towering grandly with verdant pines, the snowline,
and the awful peaks.
So all these conceptions are the way in which now,
with vision confined, we apprehend the great existences
of the universe. Instead of an abstraction, what we
have to serve is a reality, to which ever, our real things
Higher Space and Higher Being. 69
are but shadows. We are parts of a great being, in
whose service, and with whose love, the utmost demands
of duty are satisfied.
How can it not be a struggle, when the claims of
righteousness mean diminished life,—even death,—to
the individual who strives? And yet to a clear and
more rational view it will be seen that in his extinction
and loss, that which he loves,—that real being which
is to him shadowed forth in the present existence of
wife and child,—that being lives more truly, and in its
life those he loves are his for ever.
But, of course, there are mistakes in what we con-
sider to be our duty, as in everything else; and this is an
additional reason for pursuing the quest of this reality.
For by the rational observance of other material bodies
than our own, we come to the conclusion that there
are other beings around us like ourseives, whom we
apprehend in virtue of two processes—the one simply
a sense one of observation and reflection—the other a
process of direct apprehension.
Now, if we did not go through the sense process of
observation, we might, it is true, know that there were
other human beings around us in some subtle way—in
some mesmeric feeling; but we should not have that
organized human life which, dealing with the things of
the world, grows into such complicated forms. We
should for ever be good-humoured babies—a sensuous,
affectionate kind of jelly-fish.
And just so now with reference to the high intelli-
gences by whom we are surrounded. We feel them,
but we do not realize them.
To realize them, it will be necessary to develop our
power of perception.
The power of seeing with our bodily eye is limited to
the three-dimensional section.
But I have shown that the inner eye is not thus
limited; that we can organize our power of seeing in
higher space, and that we can form conceptions of
realities in this higher space, just as we can in our ordi-
nary space.
And this affords the groundwork for the perception
and study of these other beings than man. Just as some
mechanical means are necessary for the apprehension
of our fellows in space, so a certain amount of me-
chanical education is necessary for the perception of
higher beings in higher space.
Let us turn the current of our thought right round;
instead of seeking after abstractions, and connecting our
observations by ideas, let us train our sense of higher
space and build up conceptions of greater realities, more
absolute existences.
It is really a waste of time to write or read more
generalities. Here is the grammar of the knowledge of
higher being—let us learn it, not spend time in specu-
lating as to whither it will lead us.
Yet one thing more. We are, with reference to the
higher things of life, like blind and puzzled children.
We know that we are members of one body, limbs of
one vine; but we cannot discern, except by instinct and
feeling, what that body is, what the vine is. If to know
it would take away our feeling, then it were well never
to know it. But fuller knowledge of other human beings
does not take away our love for them; what reason is
there then to suppose that a knowledge of the higher
existences would deaden our feelings?
And then, again, me each of us have a feeling that we
ourselves have a right to exist. We demand our own
perpetuation. No man, I believe, is capable of sacri-
ficing his life to any abstract idea; in all cases it is the
consciousness of contact with some being that enables
him to make the last human sacrifice. And what we
can do by this study of higher space, is to make this
consciousness, which has been reserved for a few, the
property of all. Do we not all feel that there is a limit
to our devotion to abstractions, none to beings whom
we love. And to love them, we must know them.
Then, just as our own individual life is empty and
meaningless without those we love, so the life of the
human race is empty and meaningless without a know-
ledge of those that surround it. And although to some
an inner knowledge of the oneness of all men is vouch-
safed, it remains to be demonstrated to the many.
The perpetual struggle between individual interests
and the common good can only be solved by merging
both impulses in a love towards one being whose life
lies in the fulfilment of each.
And this search, it seems to me, affords the needful
supplement to the inquiries of one with whose thought
I have been very familiar, and to which I return again,
after having abandoned it for the purely niaterialistic
views which seem forced upon us by the facts of science.
All that he said seemed to me unsupported by fact,
unrelated to what we know.
But when I found that my knowledge was merely an
empty pretence, that it was the vanity of being able to
predict and foretell that stood to me in the place of an
absolute apprehension of fact-when all my intellectual
possessions turned to nothingness, then I was forced
into that simple quest for fact, which, when persisted in
and lived in, opens out to the thoughts like a flower to
the life-giving sun.
It is indeed a far safer course, to believe that which
appeals to us as noble, than simply to ask what is true;
to take that which great minds have given, than to de-
mand that our puny ones should be satisfied. But I
suppose there is some good to some one in the scep-
ticism and struggle of those who cannot follow in the
safer course.
The thoughts of the inquirer to whom I allude may
roughly be stated thus:—
He saw in human life the working out of a great pro-
cess, in the toil and strain of our human history he saw
the becoming of man. There is a defect whereby we fall
short of the true measure of our being, and that defect
is made good in the course of history.
It is owing to that defect that we perceive evil; and
in the perception of evil and suffering lies our healing,
for we shall be forced into that path at last, after trying
every other, which is the true one.
And this, the history of the redemption of man, is
what he saw in all the scenes of life; each most trivial
occurrence was great and significant in relation to this.
And, further, he put forward a definite statement with
regard to this defect, this lack of true being, for it lay,
he said, in the self-centredness of our emotions, in the
limitation of them to our bodily selves. He looked for
a time when, driven from all thoughts of our own pain
or pleasure, good or evil, we should say, in view of the
miseries of our fellow-creatures, Let me be anyhow, use
my body and my mind in any way, so that I serve.
And this, it seems to me, is the true aspiration; for,
just as a note of music flings itself into the march of the
melody, and, losing itself in it, is used for it and lost as
a separate being, so we should throw these lives of ours
as freely into the service of—whom?
Here comes the difficulty. Let it be granted that we
should have no self-rights, limit our service in no way,
still the question comes, What shall we serve?
It is far happier to have some concrete object to
which we are devoted, or to be bound up in the cease-
less round of active life, wherein each day presents so
many necessities that we have no room for choice.
But besides and apart from all these, there comes to
some the question, “What does it all mean?” To others,
an unlovable and gloomy aspect is presented, wherein
their life seems to be but used as a material worthless in
itself and ungifted with any dignity or honour; while
to others again, with the love of those they love, comes
a cessation of all personal interest in life, and a dis-
appointment and feeling of valuelessness.
And in all these cases some answer is needed. And
here human duty ceases. We cannot make objects to
love. We can make machines and works of art, but
nothing which directly excites our love. To give us
that which rouses our love, is the duty of one higher
than ourselves.
And yet in one respect we have a duty—we must
look.
What good would it be, to surround us with objects
of loving interest, if we bury our regards in ourselves
and will not see ?
And does it not seem as if with lowered eyelids, till
only the thinnest slit was open, we gazed persistently,
not on what is, but on the thinnest conceivable section
of it?
Let it be granted that our right attitude is, so to
devote ourselves that there is no question as to what we
will do or what we will not do, but we are perfectly
obedient servants. The question is, Whom are we to
serve?
It cannot be each individual, for their claims are
conflicting, and as often as not there is more need of
a master than of a servant. Moreover, the aspect of our
fellows does not always excite love, which is the only
possible inducer of the right attitude of service. If we
do not love, we can only serve for a self motive, because
it is in some way good for ourselves.
Thus it seems to me that we are reduced to this: our
only duty is to look far that which it is given us to love.
But this looking is not mere gazing. To know, we
must act.
Let any one try it. He will find that unless he
goes through a series of actions corresponding to his
knowledge, he gets merely a theoretic and outside view
of any facts. The way to know is this: Get somehow
a means of telling what your perceptions would be if
you knew, and act in accordance with those perceptions.
Thus, with regard to a fellow-creature, if we knew him
we should feel what his feelings are. Let us then learn
his feelings, and act as if we had them. It is by the
practical work of satisfying his needs that we get to
know him.
Then, may-be, we love him; or perchance it is said
we may find that through him we have been brought
into contact with one greater than him.
This is our duty—to know—to know, not merely
theoretically, but practically; and then, when we know,
we have done our part; if there is nothing, we cannot
supply it. All we have to do is to look for realities.
We must not take this view of education—that we are
horribly pressed for time, and must learn, sornehow, a
knack of saying how things must be, without looking at
them.
But rather, we must say that we have a long time—all
our lives, in which we will press facts closer and closer
to our minds; and we begin by learning the simplest.
There is an idea in that home of our inspiration—the
fact that there are certain mechanical processes by
which men can acquire merit. This is perfectly true.
It is by mechanical processes that we become different;
Perception and Inspiration. 75
and the science of education consists largely in sys-
tematizing these processes.
Then, just as space perceptions are necessary for the
knowledge of our fellow-men, and enable us to enter
into human relationships with them in all the organized
variety of civilized life, so it is necessary to develop
our perceptions of higher space, so that we can appre-
hend with our minds the relationship which we have to
beings higher than ourselves, and bring our instinctive
knowledge into clearer consciousness.
It appears to me self-evident, that in the particular
disposition of any portion of matter, that is, in any
physical action, there can be neither right nor wrong;
the thing done is perfectly indifferent.
At the same time, it is only in things done that we
come into relationship with the beings about us and
higher than us. Consequently, in the things we do lies
the whole importance of our lives.
Now, many of our impulses are directly signs of a
relationship in us to a being of which we are not imme-
diately conscious. The feeling of love, for instance, is
always directed towards a particular individual; but by
love man tends towards the preservation and improve-
ment of his race; thus in the commonest and most
universal impulses lie his relations to higher beings than
the individuals by whom he is surrounded. Now, along
with these impulses are many instincts of a modifying
tendency; and, being altogether in the dark as to the
nature of the higher beings to whom we are related, it is
difficult to say in what the service of the higher beings
consists, in what it does not. The only way is, as in
every other pre-rational department of life, to take the
verdict of those with the most insight and inspiration.
And any striving against such verdicts, and discontent
with them, should be turned into energy towards finding
out exactly what relation we have towards these higher
beings by the study of Space.
Human life at present is an art constructed in its
regulations and rules on the inspirations of those who
love the undiscerned higher beings, of which we are a
part. They love these higher beings, and know their
service.
But our perceptions are coarser; and it is only by
labour and toil that we shall be brought also to see, and
then lose the restraints that now are necessary to us in
the fulness of love.
Exactly what relationship there is towards us on the
part of these higher beings we cannot say in the least.
We cannot even say whether there is more than humanity
before the highest; and any conception which we form
now must use the human drama as its only possible
mode of presentation.
But that there is such a relation seems clear; and the
ludicrous manner, in which our perceptions have been
limited, is a sufficient explanation of why they have not
been scientifically apprehended.
The mode, in which an apprehension of these higher
beings or being- is at present secured, is as follows; and
it bears a striking analogy to the mode by which the
self is cut out of a block of cubes.
When we study a block of cubes, we first of all learn
it, by starting from a particular cube, and learning how
all the others come with regard to that. All the others
are right or left, up or down, near or far, with regard to
that particular cube. And the line of cubes starting
from this first one, which we take as the direction in
which we look, is, as it were, an axis about which the
rest of the cubes are grouped. We learn the block with
regard to this axis, so that we can mentally conceive
the disposition of every cube as it comes regarded from
one point of view. Next we suppose ourselves to be in
another cube at the extremity of another axis; and,
looking from this axis, we learn the aspects of all the
cubes, and so on.
Thus we impress on the feeling what the block of
cubes is like from every axis. In this way we get a
knowledge of the block of cubes.
Now, to get a knowledge of humanity, we must feel
with many individuals. Each individual is an axis as
it were, and we must regard human beings from many
different axes. And as, in learning the block of cubes,
muscular action, as used in putting up the block of
cubes, is the means by which we impress on the feeling
the different views of the block; so, with regard to
humanity, it is by acting with regard to the view of each
individual that a knowledge is obtained. That is to say,
that, besides sympathizing with each individual, we must
act with regard to his view; and acting so, we shall feel
his view, and thus get to know humanity from more than
one axis. Thus there springs up a feeling of humanity,
and of more.
Those who feel superficially with a great many people,
are like those learners who have a slight acquaintance
with a block of cubes from many points of view. Those
who have some deep attachments, are like those who
know them well from one or two points of view.
Thus there are two definite paths—one by which the
instinctive feeling is called out and developed, the other
by which we gain the faculty of rationally apprehending
and learning the higher beings.
In the one way it is by the exercise of a sympathetic
and active life; in the other, by the study of higher
space.
Both should be followed; but the latter way is more
accessible to those who are not good. For we at any
rate have the industry to go through mechanical opera-
tions, and know that we need something.
And after all, perhaps, the ditierence between the good
and the rest of us, lies rather in the former being aware.
There is something outside them which draws them to
it, which they see while we do not.
There is no reason, however, why this knowledge
should not become demonstrable fact. Surely, it is only
by becoming demonstrable fact that the errors which
have been necessarily introduced into it by human
weakness will fall away from it.
The rational knowledge will not replace feeling, but
will form the vehicle by which the facts will be presented
to our consciousness. Just as we learn to know our
fellows by watching their deeds,—but it is something
beyond the mere power of observing them that makes
us regard them,—so the higher existences need to be
known; and, when known, then there is a chance that
in the depths of our nature they will awaken feelings
towards them like the natural response of one human
being to another.
And when we reflect on what surrounds us, when we
think that the beauty of fruit and flower, the blue depths
of the sky, the majesty of rock and ocean,—all these are
but the chance and arbitrary view which we have of true
being,—then we can imagine somewhat of the glories that
await our coming. How set out in exquisite loveliness
are all the budding trees and hedgerows on a spring day
—from here, where they almost sing to us in their near-
ness, to where, in the distance, they stand up delicately
distant and distinct in the amethyst ocean of the air!
And there, quiet and stately, revolve the slow moving
sun and the stars of the night. All these are the frag-
mentary views which we have of great beings to whom
we are related, to whom we are linked, did we but realize
it, by a bond of love and service in close connesions of
mutual helpfulness.
Just as here and there on the face of a woman sits the
divine spirit of beauty, so that all cannot but love who
look—so, presenting itself to us in all this mingled scene
of air and ocean, plain and mountain, is a being of such
loveliness that, did we but know with one accord in one
stream, all our hearts would be carried in a perfect and
willing service. It is not that we need to be made
different; we have but to look and gaze, and see that
centre whereunto with joyful love all created beings
move.
But not with effortless wonder will our days be filled,
but in toil and strong exertion; for, just as now we all
labour and strive for an object, our service is bound up
with things which we do—so then we find no rest from
labour, but the sense of solitude and isolation is gone.
The bonds of brotherhood with our fellow-men grow
strong, for we know one common purpose. And through
the exquisite face of nature shines the spiritual light
that gives us a great and never-failing comrade.
Our task is a simple one—to lift from our mind that
veil which somehow has fallen on us, to take that curious
limitation from our perception, which at present is only
transcended by inspiration.
And the means to do it is by throwing aside our reason
—by giving up the idea that what we think or are has
any value. We too often sit as judges of nature, when
all we can be are her humble learners. We have but
to drink in of the inexhaustible fulness of being, pressing
it close into our minds, and letting our pride of being
able to foretell vanish into dust.
There is a curious passage in the works of Immanuel
Kant, 1 in which lie shows that space must be in the
1 The idea of space can “nicht ails den Verhaltnissen der
mind before we can observe things in space. “For,”
he says, “since everything we conceive is conceived as
being in space, there is nothing which comes before our
minds from which the idea of space can be derived;
it is equally present in the most rudimentary perception
and the most complete.” Hence he says that space
belongs to the perceiving soul itself. Without going
into this argument to abstract regions, it has a great
amount of practical truth. All our perceptions are of
things in space; we cannot think of any detail, how-
ever limited or isolated, which is not in space.
Hence, in order to exercise our perceptive powers,
it is well to have prepared beforehand a strong appre-
hension of space and space relations.
And so, as we pass on, is it not easily conceivable
that, with our power of higher space perception so
rudimentary and so unorganized, we should find it im-
possible to perceive higher existences? That mode of
perception which it belongs to us to exercise is wanting.
What wonder, then, that we cannot see the objects
which are ready, were but our own part done?
Think how much has come into human life through
exercising the power of the three-dimensional space
perception, and we can form some measure, in a faint
way, of what is in store for us.
There is a certain reluctance in us in bringing any-
thing, which before has been a matter of feeling, within
the domain of conscious reason. We do not like to
explain why the grass is green, flowers bright, and,
above all, why we have the feelings which we pass
through.
But this objection and instinctive reluctance is chiefly
ausseren Erscheinung durch Erfahrung erborgt sein, sondern diese
aussere Erfallrung ist nur durch geciachte Vorstellung allererst
moglich.”
derived from the fact that explaining has got to mean
explaining away. We so often think that a thing is
explained, when it can be shown simply to be another
form of something which we know already. And, in
fact, the wearied mind often does long to have a
phenomenon shown to be merely a deduction from
certain known laws.
But explanation proper is not of this kind; it is
introducing into the mind the new conception which
is indicated by the phenomenon already present.
Nature consists of many entities towards the appre-
hension of which we strive. If for a time we break
down the bounds which we have set up, and unify vast
fields of observation under one common law, it is that
the conceptions we formed at first are inadequate, and
must be replaced by greater ones. But it is always
the case, that, to understand nature, a conception must
be formed in the mind. This process of growth in the
mental history is hidden; but it is the really important
one. The new conception satisfies more facts than the
old ones, is truer phenomenally; and the arguments for
it are its simplicity, its power of accounting for many
facts. But the conception has to be formed first. And
the real history of advance lies in the growth of the
new conceptions which every now and then come to
light.
When the weather-wise savage looked at the sky at
night, he saw many specks of yellow light, like fire-
flies, sprinkled amidst whitish fleece; and sometimes
the fleece remained, the fire-spots went, and rain came;
sometimes the fire-spots remained, and the night was
fine. He did not see that the fire-points were ever the
same, the clouds different; but by feeling dimly, he
knew enough for his purpose.
But when the thinking mind turned itself on these
appearances, there sprang up,-not all at once, but
gradually,—the knowledge of the sublime existences of
the distant heavens, and all the lore of the marvellous
forms of water, of air, and the movements of the earth.
Surely these realities, in which lies a wealth of em-
bodied poetry, are well worth the delighted sensuous
apprehension of the savage as he gazed.
Perhaps something is lost, but in the realities, of
which we know, there is compensation. And so, when
we learn to understand the meaning of these mysterious
changes, this course of natural events, we shall find in
the greater realities amongst which we move a fair
exchange for the instinctive reverence, which they now
awaken in us.
In this book the task is taken up of forming the
most simple and elementary of the great conceptions
that are about us. In the works of the poets, and still
more in the pages of religious thinkers, lies an untold
wealth of conception, the organization of which in our
every-day intellectual life is the work of the practical
educator.
But none is capable of such simple demonstration
and absolute presentation as this of higher space, and
none so immediately opens our eyes to see the world
as a different place. And, indeed, it is very instructive;
for when the new conception is formed, it is found to
be quite simple and natural. We ask ourselves what
we have gained; and we answer: Nothing; we have
simply removed an obvious limitation.
And this is universally true; it is not that we must
rise to the higher by a long and laborious process. We
may have a long and laborious process to go through,
but, when we find the higher, it is this: we discover our
true selves, our essential being, the fact of our lives.
In this case, we pass from the ridiculous limitation, to
which our eyes and hands seem to be subject, of acting
in a mere section of space, to the fuller knowledge and
feeling of space as it is. How do we pass to this truer
intellectual life? Simply by observing, by laying aside
our intellectual powers, and by looking at what is.
We take that which is easiest to observe, not that
which is easiest to define; we take that which is the
most definitely limited real thing, and use it as our
touchstone whereby to explore nature.
As it seems to me, Kant made the great and funda-
mental statement in philosophy when he exploded all
previous systems, and all physics were reft from off the
perceiving soul. But what he did once and for all, was too
great to be a practical means of intellectual work. The
dynamic form of his absolute insight had to be found;
and it is in other works that the practical instances
of the Kantian method are to be found. For, instead
of looking at the large foundations of knowledge, the
ultimate principles of experience, late writers turned
to the details of experience, and tested every pheno-
menon, not with the question, What is this? but with
the question, “What makes me perceive thus?”
And surely the question, as so put, is more capable
of an answer; for it is only the percipient, as a subject
of thought, about which we can speak. The absolute
soul, since it is the thinker, can never be the subject of
thought; but, as physically conditioned, it can be thought
about. Thus we can never, without committing a
ludicrous error, think of the mind of man except as
a material organ of some kind; and the path of dis-
covery lies in investigating what the devious line of his
thought history is due to, which winds between two
domains of physics-the unknown conditions which
affect the perceiver, the partially known physics
which constitute what we call the external world.
It is a pity to spend time over these reflections;
if they do not seem tame and poor compared to the
practical apprehension which comes of working with
the models, then there is nothing in the whole subject.
If in the little real objects which the reader has to
handle and observe does not lie to him a poetry of a
higher kind than any expressed thought, then all these
words are not only useless, but false. If, on the other
hand, there is true work to be done with them, then
these suggestions will be felt to be but mean and
insufficient apprehensions.
For, in the simplest apprehension of a higher space
lies a knowledge of a reality which is, to the realities
we know, as spirit is to matter; and yet to this new
vision all our solid facts and material conditions are
but as a shadow is to that which casts it. In the
awakening light of this new apprehension, the flimsy
world quivers and shakes, rigid solids flow and mingle,
all our material limitations turn into graciousness, and
the new field of possibility waits for us to look and
behold.
CHAPTER XI.
SPACE THE SCIENTIFIC BASIS OF ALTRUISM AND
RELIGION.
THE reader will doubtless ask for some definite result

corresponding to these words—something not of the.
nature of an hypothesis or a might-be. And in that I
can only satisfy him after my own powers. My only
strength is in detail and patience; and if he will go
through the practical part of the book, it will assuredly
dawn upon him that here is the beginning of an answer
to his request. I only study the blocks and stones
of the higher life. But here they are definite enough.
And the more eager he is for personal and spiritual truth,
the more eagerly do I urge him to take up the practical
work, for the true good comes to us through those who,
aspiring greatly, still submit their aspirations to fact,
and who, desiring to apprehend spirit, still are willing to
manipulate matter.
The particular problem at which I have worked for
more than ten years, has been completely solved. It is
possible for the mind to acquire a conception of higher
space as adequate as that of our three-dimensional
space, and to use it in the same manner.
There are two distinct ways of studying space—our
familiar space at present in use. One is that of the
analyst, who treats space relations by his algebra, and
discovers marvellous relations. The other is that of the
observer or mechanician, who studies the shapes of things
in space directly.
85
A practical designer of machines would not find the
knowledge of geometrical analysis of immediate help to
him; and an artist or draughtsman still less so.
Now, my inquiry was, whether it was possible to get
the same power of conception of four-dimensional space,
as the designer and draughtsman have of three-dimen-
sional space. It is possible.
And with this power it is possible for us to design
machines in higher space, and to conceive objects in
this space, just as a draughtsman or artist does.
Analytical skill is not of much use in designing a
statue or inventing a machine, or in appreciating the
detail of either a work of art or a mechanical con-
trivance.
And hitherto the study of four-dimensional space has
been conducted by analysis. Here, for the first time,
the fact of the power of conception of four-dimensional
space is demonstrated, and the means of educating it
are given.
And I propose a complete system of work, of which
the volume on four space1 is the first instalment.
I shall bring forward a complete system of four-
dimensional thought—mechanics, science, and art. The
necessary condition is, that the mind acquire the power
of using four-dimensional space as it now does three-
dimensional.
And there is another condition which is no less im-
portant. We can never see, for instance, four-di-
mensional pictures with our bodily eyes, but we can
with our mental and inner eye. The condition is, that
we should acquire the power of mentally carrying a
great number of details.
If, for instance, we could think of the human body
1 Scientific Romances, First Series, No. I, “What is the Fourth
Dimension?”
Space the Basis of Altruism and Religion. 87
right down to every minute part in its right position,
and conceive its aspect, we should have a four-di-
mensional picture which is a solid structure. Now, to
do this, we must form the habit of mental painting, that
is, of putting definite colours in definite positions, not
with our hands on paper, but with our minds in thought,
so that we can recall, alter, and view complicated arrange-
ments of colour existing in thought with the same ease
with which we can paint on canvas. This is simply an
affair of industry; and the mental power latent in us in
this direction is simply marvellous.
In any picture, a stroke of the brush put on without
thought is valueless. The artist is not conscious of the
thought process he goes through. For our purpose it
is necessary that the manipulation of colour and form
which the artist goes through unconsciously, should be-
come a conscious power, and that, at whatever sacrifice
of immediate beauty, the art of mental painting should
exist beside our more unconscious art. All that I mean
is this—that in the course of our campaign it is necessary
to take up the task of learning pictures by heart, so
that, just as an artist thinks over the outlines of a figure
he wants to draw, so we think over each stroke in our
pictures. The means by which this can be done will be
given in a future volume.
We throw ourselves on an enterprise in which we have
to leave altogether the direct presentation to the senses.
We must acquire a sense-perception and memory of so
keen and accurate a kind that we can build up mental
pictures of greater complexity than any which we can
see. We have a vast work of organization, but it is
merely organization. The power really exists and
shows itself when it is looked for.
Much fault may be found with the system of organi-
zation which I have adopted, but it is the survivor of
many attempts; and aIthough I could better it in parts,
still I think it is best to use it until, the full importance
of the subject being realized, it will be the lifework of
men of science to reorganize the methods.
The one thing on which I must insist is this—that
knowledge is of no value, it does not exist unless it
comes into the mind. To know that a thing must be is
no use at all. It must be clearly realized, and in detail
as it is, before it can be used.
A whole world swims before us, the apprehension
of which simply demands a patient cultivation of our
powers; and then, when the faculty is formed, we shall
recognize what the universe in which we are is like. We
shall learn about ourselves and pass into a new domain.
And I would speak to some minds who, like myself,
share to a large extent the feeling of unsettledness and
unfixedness of our present knowledge.
Religion has suffered in some respects from the in-
accuracy of its statements; and it is not always seen
that it consists of two parts—one a set of rules as to the
management of our relations to the physical world about
us, and to our own bodies; another, a set of rules as to
our relationship to beings higher than ourselves.
Now, on the former of these subjects, on physical facts,
on the laws of health, science has a fair standing ground
of criticism, and can correct the religious doctrines in
many important respects.
But on the other part of the subject matter, as to our
relationship to beings higher than ourselves, science
has not yet the materials for judging. The proposition
which underlies this book is, that we should begin to
acquire the faculties for judging.
To judge, we must first appreciate; and how far we
are from appreciating with science the fundamental
religious doctrines I leave to any one to judge.
There is absolutely no scientific basis for morality,
using morality in the higher sense of other than a code
of rules to promote the greatest physical and mental
health and growth of a human being. Science does not
give us any information which is not equally acceptable
to the most selfish and most generous man; it simply
tells him of means by which he may attain his own
ends, it does not show him ends.
The prosecution of science is an ennobling pursuit;
but it is of scientific knowledge that I am now speaking
in itself. We have no scientific knowledge of any exist-
ences higher than ourselves—at least, not recognized
as higher. But we have abundant knowledge of the
actions of beings less developed than ourselves, from
the striking unanimity with which all inorganic beings
tend to move towards the earth's centre, to the almost
equally uniform modes of response in elementary or-
ganized matter to different stimuli.
The question may be put: In what way do we come
into contact with these higher beings at present? And
evidently the answer is, In those ways in which we
tend to form organic unions—unions in which the activi-
ties of individuals coalesce in a living way.
The coherence of a military empire or of a subju-
gated population, presenting no natural nucleus of
growth, is not one through which we should hope
to grow into direct contact with our higher destinies.
But in friendship, in voluntary associations, and above
all, in the family, we tend towards our greater life.
And it seems that the instincts of women are much
more relative to this, the most fundamental and import-
ant side of life, than are those of men. In fact, until
we know, the line of advance had better be left to the
feeling of women, as they organize the home and the
social life spreading out therefrom. It is difficult, perhaps,
for a man to be still and perceive; but if he is so, he
finds that what, when thwarted, are meaningless caprices
and empty emotionalities, are, on the part of woman,
when allowed to grow freely and unchecked, the first
beginnings of a new life—the shadowy filaments, as it
were, by which an organism begins to coagulate to-
gether from the medium in which it makes its appearance.
In very many respects men have to make the condi-
tions, and then learn to recognize. How can we see
the higher beings about us, when we cannot even
conceive the simplest higher shapes? We may talk
about space, and use big words, but, after all, the prefer-
able way of putting our efforts is this: let us look first
at the simplest facts of higher existence, and then, when
we have learnt to realize these, we shall be able to see
what the world presents. And then, also, light will be
thrown on the constituent organisms of our own bodies,
when we see in the thorough development of our social
life a relation between ourselves and a larger organism
similar to that which exists between us and the minute
constituents of our frame.
The problem, as it comes to me, is this: it is clearly
demonstrated that self-regard is to be put on one side—
and self-regard in every respect—not only should things
painful and arduous be done, but things degrading and
vile, so that they serve.
I am to sign any list of any number of deeds which
the most foul imagination can suggest, as things which I
would do did the occasion come when I could benefit
another by doing them; and, in fact, there is to be no
characteristic in any action which I would shrink from
did the occasion come when it presented itself to be
done for another’s sake. And I believe that the soul
is absolutely unstained by the action, provided the re-
gard is for another.
But this is, in truth, a dangerous doctrine; at one
sweep it puts away all absolute commandments, all
absolute verdicts of right about things, and leaves the
agent to his own judgment.
It is a kind of rule of life which requires most abso-
lute openness, and demands that society should frame
severe and insuperable regulations; for otherwise, with
the motives of the individual thus liberated from absolute
law, endless varieties of conduct would spring forth,
and the wisdom of individual men is hardly enough to
justify their irresponsible action.
Still, it does seem that, as an ideal, the absolute
absence of self-regard is to be aimed at.
With a strong religious basis, this would work no
harm, for the rules of life, as laid down by religions,
would suffice. But there are many who do not accept
these rules as any absolute indication of the will of
God, but only as the regulations of good men, which
have a claim to respect and nothing more.
And thus it seems to me that altruism—thorough-
going altruism—hands over those who regard it as an
ideal, and who are also of a sceptical turn of mind, to
the most absolute unfixedness of theory, and, very pos-
sibly, to the greatest errors in life.
And here we come to the point where the study of
space becomes so important.
For if this rule of altruism is the right one, if it
appeals with a great invitation to us, we need not there-
fore try it with less precaution than we should use in
other affairs of infinitely less importance. When we
want to know if a plank will bear, we entrust it with
a different load from that of a human body.
And if this law of altruism is the true one, let us try
it where failure will not mean the ruin of human
beings.
Now, in knowledge, pure altruism means so to bury
the mind in the thing known that all particular relations
of one’s self pass away. The altruistic knowledge of
the heavens would be, to feel that the stars were vast
bodies, and that I am moving rapidly. It would be, to
know this, not as a matter of theory, but as a matter
of habitual feeling.
Whether this is possible, I do not know ; but a some-
what similar attempt can be made with much simpler
means.
In a different place I have described the process of
acquiring an altruistic knowledge of a block of cubes;
and the results of the laborious processes involved are
well worth the trouble. For as a clearly demonstrable
fact this comes before one. To acquire an absolute
knowledge of a block of cubes, so that all self relations
are cast out, means that one has to take the view of a
higher being.
It suddenly comes before one, that the particular re-
lations which are so fixed and important, and seem so
absolutely sure when one begins the process of learning,
are by no means absolute facts, but marks of a singular
limitation, almost a degradation, on one’s own part. In
the determined attempt to know the most insignificant
object perfectly and thoroughly, there flashes before
one’s eyes an existence infinitely higher than one’s own.
And with that vision there comes,—I do not speak
from my own experience only,—a conviction that our
existence also is not what we suppose—that this
bodily self of ours is but a limit too. And the question
of altruism, as against self-regard, seems almost to
vanish, for by altruism we come to know what we truly
are.
“What we truly are,” I do not mean apart from space
and matter, but what we really are as beings having a
space existence; for our way of thinking about existence
is to conceive it as the relations of bodies in space. To
think is to conceive realities in space.
Just as, to explore the distant stars of the heavens, a
particular material arrangement is necessary which we
call a telescope, so to explore the nature of the beings
who are higher than us, a mental arrangement is ne-
cessary. We must prepare our power of thinking as
we prepare a more extended power of looking. We
want a structure developed inside the skull for the
one purpose, while an exterior telescope will do for the
other.
And thus it seems that the difficulties which we first
apprehended fall away.
To us, looking with half-blinded eyes at merely our
own little slice of existence, our filmy all, it seemed
that altruism meant disorder, vagary, danger.
But when we put it into practice in knowledge, we
find that it means the direct revelation of a higher
being and a call to us to participate ourselves too in a
higher life—nay, a consciousness comes that we are
higher than we know.
And so with our moral life as with our intellectual
life. Is it not the case that those, who truly accept the
rule of altruism, learn life in new dangerous ways?
It is true that we must give up the precepts of religion
as being the will of God; but then we shall learn that
the will of God shows itself partly in the religious pre-
cepts, and comes to be more fully and more plainly
known as an inward spirit.
And that difficulty, too, about what we may do and
what me may not, vanishes also. For, if it is the same
about our fellow-creatures as it is about the block of
cubes, when we have thrown out the self-regard from
our relationship to them, we shall feel towards them as
a higher being than man feels towards them, we shall
feel towards them as they are in their true selves, not in
their outward forms, but as eternal loving spirits.
And then those instincts which humanity feels with a
secret impulse to be sacred and higher than any tem-
porary good will be justified—or fulfilled.
There are two tendencies—one towards the direct
cultivation of the religious perceptions, the other to re-
ducing everything to reason. It will be but just for the
exponents of the latter tendency to look at the whole
universe, not the mere section of it which we know, be-
fore they deal authoritatively with the higher parts of
religion.
And those who feel the immanence of a higher life in
us will be needed in this outlook on the wider field of
reality, so that they, being fitted to recognize, may tell
us what lies ready for us to know.
The true path of wisdom consists in seeing that our
intellect is foolishness—that our conclusions are absurd
and mistaken, not in speculating on the world as a form
of thought projected from the thinking principle within
us—rather to be amazed that our thought has so limited
the world and hidden from us its real existences. To
think of ourselves as any other than things in space and
subject to material conditions, is absurd, it is absurd on
either of two hypotheses. If we are really things in
space, then of course it is absurd to think of ourselves
as if we were not so. On the other hand, if we are not
things in space, then conceiving in space is the mode
in which that unknown which we are exists as a mind.
Its mental action is space-conception, and then to give
up the idea of ourselves as in space, is not to get a truer
idea, but to lose the only power of apprehension of our-
selves which we possess.
And yet there is, it must be confessed, one way in
which it may be possible for us to think without think-
ing of things in space.
That way is, not to abandon the use of space-thought,
but to pass through it.
When we think of space, we have to think of it as in-
finity extended, and we have to think of it as of infinite
dimensions. Now, as I have shown in “The Law of the
Valley,”1 when we come upon infinity in any mode of
our thought, it is a sign that that mode of thought is
dealing with a higher reality than it is adapted for, and
in struggling to represent it, can only do so by an in-
finite number of terms. Now, space has an infinite
number of positions and turns, and this may be due to
the attempt forced upon us to think of things higher
than space as in space. If so, then the way to get rid
of space from our thoughts, is, not to go away from it,
but to pass through it-to think about larger and larger
systems of space, and space of more and more dimen-
sions, till at last we get to such a representation in
space of what is higher than space, that we can pass
from the space-thought to the more absolute thought
without that leap which would be necessary if we were
to try to pass beyond space with our present very in-
adequate representation in it of what really is.
Again and again has human nature aspired and
fallen. The vision has presented itself of a law which
was love, a duty which carried away the enthusiasm,
and in which the conflict of the higher and lower natures
ceased because all was enlisted in one loving service.
But again and again have such attempts failed. The
common-sense view, that man is subject to law, external
law, remains—that there are fates whom he must pro-
pitiate and obey. And there is a strong sharp curb,
1 “The Persian King, or the Law of the Valley”; Scientic Romances,
First Series, No. II.

which, if it be not brought to bear by the will, is soon
pulled tight by the world, and one more tragedy is
enacted, and the over-confident soul is brought low.
And the rock on which such attempts always split,
is in the indulgence of some limited passion. Some
one object fills the soul with its image, and in devotion
to that, other things are sacrificed, until at last all
comes to ruin.
But what does this mean? Surely it is simply this,
that where there should be knowledge there is ignorance.
It is not that there is too much devotion, too much
passion, but that we are ignorant and blind, and
wander in error. We do notknow what it is we care
for, and waste our effort on the appearance. There is
no such thing as wrong love; there is good love and
bad knowledge, and men who err, clasp phantoms to
themselves. Religion is but the search for realities;
and thought, conscious of its own limitations, is its
best aid.
Let a man care for any one object—let his regard
for it be as concentrated and exclusive as you will,
there will be no danger if he truly apprehends that
which he cares for. Its true being is bound up with
all the rest of existence, and, if his regard is true to
one, then, if that one is really known, his regard is
true to all.
There is a question sometimes asked, which shows
the mere formalism into which we have fallen.
We ask: What is the end of existence? A mere play
on words! For to conceive existence is to feel ends.
The knowledge of existence is the caring for objects,
the fear of dangers, the anxieties of love. Immersed
in these, the triviality of the question, what is the end of
existence? becomes obvious. If, however, letting reality
fade away, we play with words, some questions of this
kind are possible; but they are mere questions of words,
and all content and meaning has passed out of them.
The task before us is this: we strive to find out that
physical unity, that body which men are parts of, and
in the life of which their true unity lies. The existence
of this one body we know from the utterances of those
whom we cannot but feel to be inspired; we feel certain
tendencies in ourselves which cannot be explained
except by a supposition of this kind.
And, now, we set to work deliberately to form in
our minds the means of investigation, the faculty of
higher-space conception. To our ordinary space-
thought, men are isolated, distinct, in great measure
antagonistic. But with the first use of the weapon of
higher thought, it is easily seen that all men may really
be members of one body, their isolation may be but an
affair of limited consciousness. There is, of course, no
value as science in such a supposition. But it suggests
to us many possibilities; it reveals to us the confined
nature of our present physical views, and stimulates us
to undertake the work necessary to enable us to deal
adequately with the subject.
The work is entirely practical and detailed; it is the
elaboration, beginning from the simplest objects of an
experience in thought, of a higher-space world.
To begin it, we take up those details of position and
relation which are generally relegated to symbolism or
unconscious apprehension, and bring these waste pro-
ducts of thought into the central position of the labora-
tory of the mind. We turn all our attention on the
most simple and obvious details of our every-day ex-
perience, and thence we build up a conception of the
fundamental facts of position and arrangement in a
higher world. We next study more complicated higher
shapes, and get our space perception drilled and dis-
ciplined. Then we proceed to put a content into our
framework.
The means of doing this are twofold—observation
and inspiration.
As to observation, it is hardly possible to describe
the feelings of that investigator who shall distinctly
trace in the physical world, and experimentally de-
monstrate the existence of the higher-space facts which
are so curiously hidden from us. He will lay the first
stone for the observation and knowledge of the higher
beings to whom we are related.
As to the other means, it is obvious, surely, that if
there has ever been inspiration, there is inspiration
now. Inspiration is not a unique phenomenon. It has
existed in absolutely marvellous degree in some of the
teachers of the ancient world; but that, whatever it
was, which they possessed, must be present now, and,
if we could isolate it, be a demonstrable fact.
And I would propose to define inspiration as the
faculty, which, to take a particular instance, does the
following:—
If a square penetrates a line cornerwise, it marks
out on the line a segment bounded by two points—that
is, we suppose a line drawn on a piece of paper, and
a square lying on the paper to be pushed so that its
corner passes over the line. Then, supposing the paper
and the line to be in the same plane, the line is inter-
rupted by the square; and, of the square, all that is
observable in the line, is a segment bounded by two
points.
Next, suppose a cube to be pushed cornerwise
through a plane, and let the plane make a section of
the cube. The section will be a plane figure, and it
will be a triangle.
Now, first, the section of a square by a line is a
segment bounded by two points; second, the section
of a cube by a plane is a triangle bounded by three
lines.
Hence, we infer that the section of a figure in four
dimensions analogous to a cube, by three-dimensional
space, will be a tetrahedron—a figure bounded by four
planes.
This is found to be true; with a little familiarity
with four-dimensional movements this is seen to be
obvious. But I would define inspiration as the faculty
by which without actual experience this conclusion
is formed.
How it is we come to this conclusion I am perfectly
unable to say. Somehow, looking at mere formal con-
siderations, there comes into the mind a conclusion
about something beyond the range of actual experience.
We may call this reasoning from analogy; but using
this phrase does not explain the process. It seems to
me just as rational to say that the facts of the line and
plane remind us of facts which we know already about
four-dimensional figures—that they tend to bring these
facts out into consciousness, as Plato shows with the
boy’s knowledge of the cube. We must be really four-
dimensional creatures, or we could not think about four
dimensions.
But whatever name we give to this peculiar and in-
explicable faculty, that we do possess it is certain; and
in our investigations it will be of service to us. We
must carefully investigate existence in a plane world,
and then, making sure, and impressing on our inward
sense, as we go, every step we take with regard to a
higher world, we shall be reminded continually of fresh
possibilities of our higher existence.
PART II.
CHAPTER I.
THREE-SPACE. GENESIS OF A CUBE. APPEARANCES
OF A CUBE TO A PLANE-BEING
THE models consist of a set of eight and a set of four

cubes. They are marked with different colours, so as
to show the properties of the figure in Higher Space, to
which they belong.
The simplest figure in one-dimensional space, that is,
in a straight line, is a straight line bounded at the two
extremities. The figure in this case consists of a length
bounded by two points.
Looking at Cube 1, and placing it so that the figure 1
is uppermost, we notice a straight line in contact with
the table, which is coloured Orange. It begins in a
Gold point and ends in a Fawn point. The Orange
extends to some distance on two faces of the Cube; but
for our present purpose we suppose it to be simply a
thin line.
This line we conceive to be generated in the following
way. Let a point move and trace out a line. Let the
point be the Gold point, and let it, moving, trace out the
Orange line and terminate in the Fawn point. Thus
the figure consists of the point at which it begins, the
point at which it ends, and the portion between. We
may suppose the point to start as a Gold point, to
101
change its colour to Orange during the motion, and
when it stops to become Fawn. The motion we suppose
from left to right, and its direction we call X.
If, now, this Orange line move away from us at right
angles, it will trace out a square. Let this be the Black
square, which is seen underneath Model 1. The points,
which bound the line, will during this motion trace out
lines, and to these lines there will be terminal points.
Also, the Square will be terminated by a line on the
opposite side. Let the Gold point in moving away
trace out a Blue line and end in a Buff point; the Fawn
point a Crimson line ending in a Terracotta point.
The Orange line, having traced a Black square, ends in
a Green-grey line. This direction, away from the
observer, we call Y.
Now, let the whole Black square traced out by the
Orange line move upwards at right angles. It will
trace out a new figure, a Cube. And the edges of the
square, while moving upwards, will trace out squares.
Bounding the cube, and opposite to the Black square,
will be another square. Let the Orange line moving
upwards trace a Dark Blue square and end in a Reddish
line. The Gold point traces a Brown line; the Fawn point
traces a French-grey line, and these lines end in a Light-
blue and a Dull-purple point. Let the Blue line trace a
Vermilion square and end in a Deep-yellow line. Let
the Buff point trace a Green line, and end in a Red
point. The Green-grey line traces a Light-yellow
square and ends in a Leaden line; the Terracotta point
traces a Dark-slate line and ends in a Deep-blue point.
The Crimson line traces a Blue-green square and ends
in a Bright-blue line.
Finally, the Black square traces a Cube, the colour of
which is invisible, and ends in a white square. We
suppose the colour of the cube to be a Light-buff. The
Three-Space. Genesis of a Cube. 103
upward direction we call Z. Thus we say: The Gold
point moved Z, traces a Brown line, and ends in a Light-
blue point.
We can now clearly realize and refer to each region
of the cube by a colour.
At the Gold point, lines from three directions meet,
the X line Orange, the Y line Blue, the Z line Brown.
Thus we began with a figure of one dimension, a line,
we passed on to a figure of two dimensions, a square,
and ended with a figure of three dimensions, a cube.
————
The square represents a figure in two dimensions; but
if we want to realize what it is to a being in two
dimensions, we must not look down on it. Such a view
could not be taken by a plane-being.
Let us suppose a being moving on the surface of the
table and unable to rise from it. Let it not know that
it is upon anything, but let it believe that the two
directions and compounds of those two directions are all
possible directions. Moreover, let it not ask the ques-
tion: “On what am I supported?” Let it see no reason
for any such question, but simply call the smooth surface,
along which it moves, Space.
Such a being could not tell the colour of the square
traced by the Orange line. The square would be
bounded by the lines which surround it, and only by
breaking through one of those lines could the plane-
being discover the colour of the square.
In trying to realize the experience of a plane-being
it is best to suppose that its two dimensions are upwards
and sideways, i.e., Z and X, because, if there be any
matter in the plane-world, it will, like matter in the
solid world, exert attractions and repulsions. The
matter, like the beings, must be supposed very thin, that
is, of so slight thickness that it is quite unnoticed by the
being. Now, if there be a very large mass of such
matter lying on the table, and a plane-being be free
to move about it, he will be attracted to it in every
direction. “Towards this huge mass” would be
“Down,” and “Away from it” would be “Up,” just as
“Towards the earth” is to solid beings “Down,” and
“Away from it” is “Up,” at whatever part of the globe
they may be. Hence, if we want to realize a plane-
being’s feelings, we must keep the sense of up and down.
Therefore we must use the Z direction, and it is more
convenient to take Z and X than Z and Y.
Any direction lying between these is said to be com-
pounded of the two; for, if we move slantwise for some
distance, the point reached might have been also reached
by going a certain distance X, and then a certain
distance Z, or vice versâ.
Let us suppose the Orange line has moved Z, and
traced the Dark-blue square ending in the Reddish line.
If we now place a piece of stiff paper against the Dark-
blue square, and suppose the plane-beings to move to
and fro on that surface of the paper, which touches
the square, we shall have means of representing their
experience.
To obtain a more consistent view of their existence,
let us suppose the piece of paper extended, so that it
cuts through our earth and comes out at the antipodes,
thus cutting the earth in two. Then suppose all the
earth removed away, both hemispheres vanishing, and
only a very thin layer of matter left upon the paper on
that side which touches the Dark-blue square. This
represents what the world would be to a plane-being.
It is of some importance to get the notion of the
directions in a plane-world, as great difficulty arises
from our notions of up and down. We miss the right
analogy if we conceive of a plane-world without the
conception of up and down.
A good plan is, to use a slanting surface, a stiff card
or book cover, so placed that it slopes upwards to the
eye. Then gravity acts as two forces. It acts (1) as a
force pressing all particles upon the slanting surface into
it, and (2) as a force of gravity along the plane, making
particles tend to slip down its incline. We may suppose
that in a plane-world there are two such forces, one
keeping the beings thereon to the plane, the other
acting between bodies in it, and of such a nature that by
virtue of it any large mass of plane-matter produces on
small particles around it the same effects as the large
mass of solid matter called our earth produces on small
objects like our bodies situated around it. In both cases
the larger draws the smaller to itself, and creates the
sensations of up and down.
If we hold the cube so that its Dark-blue side touches
a sheet of paper held upwards to the eye, and if we
then look straight down along the paper, confining our
view to that which is in actual contact with the paper,
we see the same view of the cube as a plane-being
would get. We see a Light-blue point, a Reddish line,
and a Dull-purple point. The plane-being only sees a
line, just as we only see a square of the cube.
The line where the paper rests on the table may be
taken as representative of the surface of the plane-
being’s earth. It would be merely a line to him, but it
would have the same property in relation to the plane-
world, as a square has in relation to a solid world; in
neither case can the notion of what in the latter is
termed solidity be quite excluded. If the plane-being
broke through the line bounding his earth, he would find
more matter beyond it.
Let us now leave out of consideration the question of
“up and down” in a plane-world. Let us no longer
consider it in the vertical, or ZX, position, but simply
take the surface (XY) of the table as that which sup-
ports a plane-world. Let us represent its inhabitants
by thin pieces of paper, which are free to move over the
surface of the table, but cannot rise from it. Also, let
the thickness (i.e., height above the surface) of these
beings be so small that they cannot discern it. Lastly
let us premise there is no attraction in their world, so
that they have not any up and down.
Placing Cube I in front of us, let us now ask how a
plane-being could apprehend such a cube. The Black
face he could easily study. He would find it bounded
by Gold point, Orange line, Fawn point, Crimson line,
and so on. And he would discover it was Black by
cutting through any of these lines and entering it.
(This operation would be equivalent to the mining of a
solid being).
But of what came above the Black square he would
be completely ignorant. Let us now suppose a square
hole to be made in the table, so that the cube could
pass through, and let the cube fit the opening so
exactly that no trace of the cutting of the table be
visible to the plane-being. If the cube began to pass
through, it would seem to him simply to change, for of
its motion he could not be aware, as he would not know
the direction in which it moved. Let it pass down till
the White square be just on a level with the surface of
the table. The plane-being would then perceive a
Light-blue point, a Reddish line, a Dull-purple point, a
Bright-blue line, and so on. These would surround a
White square, which belonged to the same body as that
to which the Black square belonged. But in this body
there would be a dimension, which was not in the
square. Our upward direction would not be appre-
hended by him directly. Motion from above down-
wards would only be apprehended as a change in the
figure before him. He would not say that he had before
him different sections of a cube, but only a changing
square. If he wanted to look at the upper square, he
could only do so when the Black square had gone an
inch below his plane. To study the upper square
simultaneously with the lower, he would have to make
a model of it, and then he could place it beside the
lower one.
Looking at the cube, we see that the Reddish line
corresponds precisely to the Orange line, and the Deep-
yellow to the Blue line. But if the plane-being had a
model of the upper square, and placed it on the right-
hand side of the Black square, the Deep-yellow line
would come next to the Crimson line of the Black
square. There would be a discontinuity about it. All
that he could do would be to observe which part in the
one square corresponded to which part in the other.
Obviously too there lies something between the Black
square and the White.
The plane-being would notice that when a line moves
in a direction not its own, it traces out a square. When
the Orange line is moved away, it traces out the Black
square. The conception of a new direction thus ob-
tained, he would understand that the Orange line
moving so would trace out a square, and the Blue line
moving so would do the same. To us these squares
are visible as wholes, the Dark-blue, and the Vermilion.
To him they would be matters of verbal definition
rather than ascertained facts. However, given that he
had the experience of a cube being pushed through his
plane, he would know there was some figure, whereof
his square was part, which was bounded by his square
on one side, and by a White square on another side.
We have supposed him to make models of these boun-
daries, a Black square and a White square. The Black
square, which is his solid matter, is only one boundary
of a figure in Higher Space.
But we can suppose the cube to be presented to him
otherwise than by passing through his plane. It can be
turned round the Orange line, in which case the Blue
line goes out, and, after a time, the Brown line comes
in. It must be noticed that the Brown line comes into
a direction opposite to that in which the Blue line
ran. These two lines are at right angles to each other,
and, if one be moved upwards till it is at right angles to
the surface of the table, the other comes on to the sur-
face, but runs in a direction opposite to that in which
the first ran. Thus, by turning the cube about the
Orange line and the Blue line, different sides of it can
be shown to a plane-being. By combining the two
processes of turning and pushing through the plane, all
the sides can be shown to the plane-being. For in-
stance, if the cube be turned so that the Dark-blue
square be on the plane, and it be then passed through,
the Light-yellow square will come in.
Now, if the plane-being made a set of models of
these different appearances and studied them, he could
form some rational idea of the Higher Solid which
produced them. He would become able to give some
consistent account of the properties of this new kind
of existence; he could say what came into his plane
space, if the other space penetrated the plane edge-wise
or corner-wise, and could describe all that would come
in as it turned about in any way.
He would have six models. Let us consider two of
them—the Black and the White squares. We can ob-
serve them on the cube. Every colour on the one is
different from every colour on the other. If we now
ask what lies between the Orange line and the Reddish
line, we know it is a square, for the Orange line moving
in any direction gives a square. And, if the six models
were before the plane-being, he could easily select that
which showed what he wanted. For that which lies
between Orange line and Reddish line must be bounded
by Orange and Reddish lines. He would search among
the six models lying beside each other on his plane, till
he found the Dark-blue square. It is evident that only
one other square differs in all its colours from the Black
square, viz., the White square. For it is entirely sepa-
rate. The others meet it in one of their lines. This
total difference exists in all the pairs of opposite sur-
faces on the cube.
Now, suppose the plane-being asked himself what
would appear if the cube turned round the Blue line.
The cube would begin to pass through his space. The
Crimson line would disappear beneath the plane and
the Blue-green square would cut it, so that opposite to
the Blue line in the plane there would be a Blue-green
line. The French-grey line and the Dark-slate line
would be cut in points, and from the Gold point to the
French-grey point would be a Dark-blue line; and
opposite to it would be a Light-yellow line, from the
Buff point to the Dark-slate point. Thus the figure in
the plane world would be an oblong instead of a square,
and the interior of it would be of the same Light-buff
colour as the interior of the cube. It is assumed that
the plane closes up round the passing cube, as the sur-
face of a liquid does round any object immersed.
But, in order to apprehend what would take place
when this twisting round the Blue line began, the plane-
being would have to set to work by parts. He has no
conception of what a solid would do in twisting, but
he knows what a plane does. Let him, then, instead
of thinking of the whole Black square, think only of
the Orange line. The Dark-blue square stands on it.
As far as this square is concerned, twisting round the
Blue line is the same as twisting round the Gold point.
Let him imagine himself in that plane at right angles to
his plane-world, which contains the Dark-blue square.
Let him keep his attention fixed on the line where the
two planes meet, viz., that which is at first marked by
the Orange line. We will call this line the line of his
plane, for all that he knows of his own plane is this
line. Now, let the Dark-blue square turn round the
Gold point. The Orange line at once dips below
the line of his plane, and the Dark-blue square passes
through it. Therefore, in his plane he will see a
Dark-blue line in place of the Orange one. And in
place of the Fawn point, only further off from the Gold
point, will be a French-grey point. The Diagrams
(1), (2) show how the cube appears as it is before and
after the turning. G is the Gold, F the Fawn point.
In (2) G is unmoved, and the plane is cut by the French-
grey line, Gr.
Instead of imagining a direction he did not know, the
plane-being could think of the Dark-blue square as
lying in his plane. But in this case the Black square
would be out off his plane, and only the Orange line
would remain in it. Diagram (3) shows the Dark-blue
square lying in his plane, and Diagram (4) shows it
turning round the Gold point. Here, instead of think-
ing about his plane and also that at right angles to it,
he has only to think how the square turning round the
Gold point will cut the line, which runs left to right
from G, viz., the dotted line. The French-grey line is
cut by the dotted line in a point. To find out what
would come in at other parts, he need only treat a
number of the plane sections of the cube perpendicular
G F G Gr
Fig.1 Fig.2
G Gr
G F F
Fig.3 Fig.4
LB LB
Br
Br
B G G B
Fig.5
to the Black square in the same manner as he had
treated the Dark-blue square. Every such section would
turn round a point, as the whole cube turned round the
Blue line. Thus he would treat the cube as a number
of squares by taking parallel sections from the Dark-
blue to the Light-yellow square, and he would turn
each of these round a corner of the same colour as the
Blue line. Combining these series of appearances, he
would discover what came into his plane as the cube
turned round the Blue line. Thus, the problem of the
turning of the cube could be settled by the consideration
of the turnings of a number of squares.
As the cube turned, a number of different appear-
ances would be presented to the plane-being. The
Black square would change into a Light-buff oblong,
with Dark-blue, Blue-green, Light-yellow, and Blue
sides, and would gradually elongate itself until it be-
came as long as the diagonal of the square side of
the cube; and then the bounding line opposite to the
Blue line would change from Blue-green to Bright-blue,
the other lines remaining the same colour. If the cube
then turned still further, the Bright-blue line would
become White, and the oblong would diminish in length.
It would in time become a Vermilion square, with a
Deep-yellow line opposite to the Blue line. It would
then pass wholly below the plane, and only the Blue line
would remain.
If the turning were continued till half a revolution
had been accomplished, the Black square would come
in again. But now it would come up into the plane
from underneath. It would appear as a Black square
exactly similar to the first; but the Orange line, in-
stead of running left to right from Gold point, would
run right to left. The square would be the same, only
differently disposed with regard to the Blue line. It
would be the looking-glass image of the first square.
There would be a difference in respect of the lie of the
particles of which it was composed. If the plane-being
could examine its thickness, he would find that particles
which, in the first case, lay above others, now lay below
them. But, if he were really a plane-being, he would
have no idea of thickness in his squares, and he would
find them both quite identical. Only the one would be
to the other as if it had been pulled through itself.
In this phenomenon of symmetry he would apprehend
the difference of the lie of the line, which went in the,
to him, unknown direction of up-and-down.
CHAPTER II.
FURTHER APPEARANCES OF A CUBE TO A
PLANE-BEING.
BEFORE leaving the observation of the cube, it is well

to look at it for a moment as it would appear to a
plane-being, in whose world there was such a fact
as attraction. To do this, let the cube rest on the table,
so that its Dark-blue face is perpendicular in front of
us. Now, let a sheet of paper be placed in contact with
the Dark-blue square. Let up and sideways be the
two dimensions of the plane-being, and away the un-
known direction. Let the line where the paper meets
the table, represent the surface of his earth. Then,
there is to him, as all that he can apprehend of the
cube, a Dark-blue square standing upright; and, when
we look over the edge of the paper, and regard merely
the part in contact with the paper, we see what the
plane-being would see.
If the cube be turned round the up line, the Brown
line, the Orange line will pass to the near side of
the paper, and the section made by the cube in the
paper will be an oblong. Such an oblong can be
cut out; and when the cube is fitted into it, it can
be seen that it is bounded by a Brown line and a
Blue-green line opposite thereto, while the other boun-
daries are Black and White lines. Next, if we take
a section half-way between the Black and White
113
squares, we shall have a square cutting the plane of
the aforesaid paper in a single line. With regard to
this section, all we have to inquire is, What will take
the place of this line as the cube turns? Obviously, the
line will elongate. From a Dark-blue line it will change
to a Light-buff line, the colour of the inside of the
section, and will terminate in a Blue-green point instead
of a French-grey. Again, it is obvious that, if the cube
turns round the Orange line, it will give rise to a series
of oblongs, stretching upwards. This turning can be
continued till the cube is wholly on the near side of the
paper, and only the Orange line remains. And, when
the cube has made half a revolution, the Dark-blue
square will return into the plane; but it will run down-
wards instead of upwards as at first. Thereafter, if
the cube turn further, a series of oblongs will appear,
all running downwards from the Orange line. Hence,
if all the appearances produced by the revolution of the
cube have to be shown, it must be supposed to be raised
some distance above the plane-being’s earth, so that
those appearances may be shown which occur when it
is turned round the Orange line downwards, as well
as when it is turned upwards. The unknown direction
comes into the plane either upwards or downwards, but
there is no special connection between it and either
of these directions. If it come in upwards, the Brown
line goes nearwards or –Y; if it come in downwards,
or –Z, the Brown line goes away, or Y.
Let us consider more closely the directions which the
plane-being would have. Firstly, he would have up-and-
down, that is, away from his earth and towards it on
the plane of the paper, the surface of his earth being
the line where the paper meets the table. Then, if he
maved along the surface of his earth, there would only
be a line for him to move in, the line running right and
Appearances of a Cube to a Plane-Being. 115
left. But, being the direction of his movement, he
would say it ran forwards and backwards. Thus he
would simply have the words up and down, forwards
and backwards, and the expressions right and left would
have no meaning for him. If he were to frame a notion
of a world in higher dimensions, he must invent new
words for distinctions not within his experience.
To repeat the observations already made, let the cube
be held in front of the observer, and suppose the Dark-
blue square extended on every side so as to form a
plane. Then let this plane be considered as independent
of the Dark-blue square. Now, holding the Brown line
between finger and thumb, and touching its extremities,
the Gold and Light-blue points, turn the cube round the
Brown line. The Dark-blue square will leave the plane,
the Orange line will tend towards the –Y direction, and
the Blue line will finally come into the plane pointing
in the +X direction. If we move the cube so that the
line which leaves the plane runs +Y, then the line
which before ran +Y will come into the plane in the
direction opposite to that of the line which has left the
plane. The Blue line, which runs in the unknown direc-
tion can come into either of the two known directions of
the plane. It can take the place of the Orange line
by turning the cube round the Brown line, or the place
of the Brown line by turning it round the Orange line.
If the plane-being made models to represent these two
appearances of the cube, he would have identically the
same line, the Blue line, running in one of his known
directions in the first model, and in the other of his
known directions in the second. In studying the cube
he would find it best to turn it so that the line of un-
known direction ran in that direction in the positive
sense. In that case, it would come into the plane in
the negative sense of the known directions.
Starting with the cube in front of the observer, there
are two ways in which the Vermilion square can be
brought into the imaginary plane, that is the extension
of the Dark-blue square. If the cube turn round the
Brown line so that the Orange line goes away, (i.e. +Y),
the Vermilion square comes in on the left of the Brown
line. If it turn in the opposite direction, the Vermilion
square comes in on the right of the Brown line. Thus,
if we identify the plane-being with the Brown line, the
Vermilion square would appear either behind or before
him. These two appearances of the Vermilion square
would seem identical, but they could not be made to
coincide by any movement in the plane. The diagram
(Fig. 5.) shows the difference in them. It is obvious that
no turn in the plane could put one in the place of the
other, part for part. Thus the plane-being apprehends
the reversal of the unknown direction by the disposition
of his figures. If a figure, which lay on one side of a line,
changed into an identical figure on the other side of it,
he could be sure that a line of the figure, which at first
ran in the positive unknown direction, now ran in the
negative unknown direction.
We have dwelt at great length on the appearances,
which a cube would present to a plane-being, and it will
be found that all the points which would be likely to
cause difficulty hereafter, have been explained in this
obvious case.
There is, however, one other way, open to a plane-
being of studying a cube, to which we must attend.
This is, by steady motion. Let the cube come into the
imaginary plane, which is the extension of the Dark-
blue square, i.e. let it touch the piece of paper which
is standing vertical on the table. Then let it travel
through this plane at right angles to it at the rate of an
inch a minute. The plane-being would first perceive
Appearances of a Cube to a Plane-Being. 117
a Dark-blue square, that is, he would see the coloured
lines bounding that square, and enclosed therein would
be what he would call a Dark-blue solid. In the move-
ment of the cube, however, this Dark-blue square would
not last for more than a flash of time. (The edges and
points on the models are made very large; in reality
they must be supposed very minute.) This Dark-blue
square would be succeeded by one of the colour of the
cube’s interior, i.e. by a Light-buff square. But this
colour of the interior would not be visible to the plane-
being. He would go round the square on his plane, and
would see the bounding lines, viz. Vermilion, White,
Blue-green, Black. And at the corners he would see
Deep-yellow, Bright-blue, Crimson, and Blue points.
These lines and points mould really be those parts of
the faces and lines of the cube, which were on the point
of passing through his plane. Now, there would be one
difference between the Dark-blue square and the Light-
buff with their respective boundaries. The first only
lasted for a flash ; the second would last for a minute or
all but a minute. Consider the Vermilion square. It
appears to the plane-being as a line. The Brown line
also appears to him as a line. But there is a difference
between them. The Brown line only lasts for a flash,
whereas the Vermilion line lasts for a minute. Hence,
in this mode of presentation, we may say that for a
plane-being a lasting line is the mode of apprehending
a plane, and a lasting plane (which is a plane-being’s
solid) is the mode of apprehending our solids. In the
same way, the Blue line, as it passes through his plane,
gives rise to a point. This point lasts for a minute,
whereas the Gold point only lasted for a flash.
CHAPTER III.
FOUR-SPACE. GENESIS OF A TESSERACT. ITS REPRE-
SENTATION IN THREE-SPACE.
HITHERTO we have only looked at Model 1. This, with

the next seven, represent what we can observe of the
simplest body in Higher Space. A few words will
explain their construction. A point by its motion traces
a line. A line by its motion traces either a longer line
or an area; if it moves at right angles to its own direc-
tion, it traces a rectangle. For the sake of simplicity,
we will suppose all movements to be an inch in length
and at right angles to each other. Thus, a point moving
traces a line an inch long; a line moving traces a square
inch; a square moving traces a cubic inch. In these
cases each of these movements produces something in-
trinsically different from what we had before. A square
is not a longer line, nor a cube a larger square. When
the cube moves, we are unable to see any new direction
in which it can move, and are compelled to make it
move in a direction which has previously been used.
Let us suppose there is an unknown direction at right
angles to all our known directions, just as a third
direction would be unknown to a being confined to the
surface of the table. And let the cube move in this
unknown direction for an inch. We call the figure it
traces a Tessaract. The models are representations
of the appearances a Tessaract would present to us if
shown in various ways. Consider for a moment what
happens to a square when moved to form a cube, Each
of its lines, moved in the new direction, traces a square;
118
Four-Space. Genesis of a Tesseract. 119
the square itself traces a new figure, a cube, which ends
in another square. Now, our cube, moved in a new
direction, will-trace a tessaract, whereof the cube itself
is the beginning, and another cube the end. These two
cubes are to the tessaract as the Black square and White
square are to the cube. A plane-being could not see
both those squares at once, but he could make models
of them and let them both rest in his plane at once. So
also we can make models of the beginning and end of
the tessaract. Model I is the cube, which is its begin-
ning; Model 2 is the cube which is its end. It will be
noticed that there are no two colours alike in the two
models. The Silver point corresponds to the Gold point,
that is, the Silver point is the termination of the line
traced by the Gold point moving in the new direction.
The sides correspond in the following manner:—
SIDES.
Model 1. Model 2.
Black corresponds to Bright-green
White ,, ,, Light-grey
Vermilion ,, ,, Indian-red
Blue-green ,, ,, Yellow-ochre
Dark-blue ,, ,, Burnt-sienna
Light-yellow ,, ,, Dun
The two cubes should be looked at and compared long
enough to ensure that the corresponding sides can be
found quickly. Then there are the following corrcspon-
dencies in points and lines.
POINTS.
Model 1. Model 2.
Gold corresponds to Silver
Fawn ,, ,, Turquoise
Terra-cotta ,, ,, Earthen
Buff ,, ,, Blue-tint
Light-blue ,, ,, Quaker-green
Dull-purple ,, ,, Peacock-blue
Deep-blue ,, ,, Orange-vermilion
Red ,, ,, Purple
LINES.
Model 1. Model 2.
Orange corresponds to Leaf-green
Crimson ,, ,, Dull-green
Green-grey ,, ,, Dark-purple
Blue ,, ,, Purple-brown
Brown ,, ,, Dull-blue
French-grey ,, ,, Dark-pink
Dark-slate ,, ,, Pale-pink
Green ,, ,, Indigo
Reddish ,, ,, Brown-green
Bright-blue ,, ,, Dark-green
Leaden ,, ,, Pale-yellow
Deep-yellow ,, ,, Dark
The colour of the cube itself is invisible, as it is

covered by its boundaries. We suppose it to be Sage-
green.
These two cubes are just as disconnected when looked
at by us as the black and white squares would be to a
plane-being if placed side by side on his plane. He
cannot see the squares in their right position with regard
to each other, nor can we see the cubes in theirs.
Let us now consider the vermilion side of Model 1.
If it move in the X direction, it traces the cube of
Model 1. Its Gold point travels along the Orange line,
and itself, after tracing the cube, ends in the Blue-green
square. But if it moves in the new direction, it will
also trace a cube, for the new direction is at right angles
to the up and away directions, in which the Brown and
Blue lines run. Let this square, then, move in the
unknown direction, and trace a cube. This cube we
cannot see, because the unknown direction runs out of
our space at once, just as the up direction runs out of
the plane of the table. But a plane-being could see the
square, which the Blue line traces when moved upwards,
by the cube being turned round the Blue line, the
Orange line going upwards ; then the Brown line comes
into the plane of the table in the –X direction. So
also with our cube. As treated above, it runs from the
Vermilion square out of our space. But if the tessaract
were turned so that the line which runs from the Gold
point in the unknown direction lay in our space, and the
Orange line lay in the unknown direction, we could then
see the cube which is formed by the movement of the
Vermilion square in the new direction.
Take Model 5. There is on it a Vermilion square.
Place this so that it touches the Vermilion square on
Model 1. All the marks of the two squares are
identical. This Cube 5, is the one traced by the
Vermilion square moving in the unknown direction. In
Model 5, the whole figure, the tessaract, produced by
the movement of the cube in the unknown direction, is
supposed to be so turned that the Orange line passes
into the unknown direction, and that the line which
went in the unknown direction, runs opposite to the old
direction of the Orange line. Looking at this new cube,
we see that there is a Stone line running to the left from
the Gold point. This line is that which the Gold point
traces when moving in the unknown direction.
It is obvious that, if the Tessaract turns so as to show
us the side, of which Cube 5 is a model, then Cube 1 will
no longer be visible. The Orange line will run in the
unknown or fourth direction, and be out of our sight,
together with the whole cube which the Vermilion
square generates, when the Gold point moves along the
Orange line. Hence, if we consider these models as real
portions of the tessaract, we must not have more than
one before us at once. When we look at one, the others
must necessarily be beyond our sight and touch. But
we may consider them simply as models, and, as such,
we may let them lie alongside of each other. In this
case, we must remember that their real relationships are
not those in which we see them.
We now enumerate the sides of the new Cube 5, so
that, when we refer to it, any colour may be recognised
by name.
The square Vermilion traces a Pale-green cube, and
ends in an Indian-red square.
(The colour Pale-green of this cube is not seen, as it
is entirely surrounded by squares and lines of colour.)
Each Line traces a Square and ends in a Line.
}{ }{
The Blue line Light-brown square Purple-brown line
and ends in a
traces a
,, Brown ,, Yellow ,, Dull-blue ,,

,, Deep-yellow ,, Light-red ,, Dark ,,
,, Green ,, Deep-crimson ,, Indigo ,,
Each Point traces a Line and ends in a Point.
}{ }{
The Gold point Stone line Silver point
and ends in a
traces a
,, Buff ,, Light-green ,, Blue-tint ,,

,, Light-blue ,, Rich-red ,, Quaker-green ,,
,, Red ,, Emerald ,, Indigo ,,
It will be noticed that besides the Vermilion square of

this cube another square of it has been seen before. A
moment’s comparison with the experience of a plane-
being will make this more clear. If a plane-being has
before him models of the Black and White squares of the
Cube, he sees that all the colours of the one are different
from all the colours of the other. Next, if he looks at
a model of the Vermilion square, he sees that it starts
from the Blue line and ends in a line of the White square,
the Deep-yellow line. In this square he has two lines
which he had before, the Blue line with Gold and Buff
points, the Deep-yellow line with Light-blue and Red
points. To him the Black and White squares are his
Models 1 and 2, and the Vermilion square is to him as
our Model 5 is to us. The left-hand square of Model 5
is Indian-red, and is identical with that of the same
coIour on the left-hand side of Model 2. In fact, Model
5 shows us what lies between the Vermilion face of 1,
and the Indian-red face of 2.
From the Gold point we suppose four perfectly in-
dependent lines to spring forth, each of them at right
angles to all the others. In our space there is only
room for three lines mutually at right angles. It will
be found, if we try to introduce a fourth at right angles
to each of three, that we fail; hence, of these four
lines one must go out of the space we know. The
colours of these four lines are Brown, Orange, Blue,
Stone. In Model 1 are shown the Brown, Orange, and
Blue. In Model 5 are shown the Brown, Blue, and
Stone. These lines might have had any directions at
first, but we chose to begin with the Brown line going
up, or Z, the Orange going X, the Blue going Y, and the
Stone line going in the unknown direction, which we
will call W.
Consider for a moment the Stone and the Orange
lines. They can be seen together on Model 7 by looking
at the lower face of it. They are at right angles to
each other, and if the Orange line be turned to take
the place of the Stone line, the latter will run into the
negative part of the direction previously occupied by
the former. This is the reason that the Models 3, 5,
and 7 are made with the Stone line always running in
the reverse direction of that line of Model 1, which is
wanting in each respectively. It will now be easy to
find out Models 3 and 7. All that has to be done is, to
discover what faces they have in common with 1 and 2,
and these faces will show from which planes of 1 they
are generated by motion in the unknown direction.
Take Model 7. On one side of it there is a Dark-
blue square, which is identical with the Dark-blue
square of Model 1. Placing it so that it coincides with
1 by this square line for line, we see that the square
nearest to us is Burnt-sienna, the same as the near
square on Model 2. Hence this cube is a model of
what the Dark-blue square traces on moving in the
unknown direction. Here the unknown direction co-
incides with the negative away direction. In fact, to
see this cube, we have been obliged to suppose the Blue
line turned into the unknown direction, for we cannot
look at more than three of these rectangular lines at
once in our space, and in this Model 7 we have the
Brown, Orange, and Stone lines. The faces, lines, and
points of Cube 7 can be identified by the following list.
The Dark-blue square traces a Dark-stone cube
(whose interior is rendered invisible by the bounding
squares), and ends in a Burnt-sienna square.
}{ }{
The Orange line Azure square Leaf-green line
and ends in a
traces a
,, Brown ,, Yellow ,, Dull-blue ,,

,, French-grey ,, Yellow-green ,, Dark-pink ,,
,, Reddish ,, Ochre ,, Brown-green ,,
}{ }{
and ends in a
traces a
,, Fawn ,, Smoke ,, Turquoise ,,

,, Light-blue ,, Rich-red ,, Quaker-green ,,
,, Dull-purple ,, Green-blue ,, Peacock-blue ,,
If we now take Model 3, we see that it has a Black

square uppermost, and has Blue and Orange lines.
Hence, it evidently proceeds from the Black square in
Model 1; and it has in it Blue and Orange lines, which
proceed from the Gold point. But besides these, it has
running downwards a Stone line. The line wanting is
the Brown line, and, as in the other cases, when one of
the three lines of Model 1 turns out into the unknown
direction, the Stone line turns into the direction op-
posite to that from which the line has turned. Take
this Model 3 and place it underneath Model 1, raising
the latter so that the Black squares on the two coincide
line for line. Then we see what would come into our
view if the Brown line were to turn into the unknown
direction, and the Stone line come into our space down-
wards. Looking at this cube, we see that the following
parts of the tessaract have been generated.
The Black square traces a Brick-red cube (invisible
because covered by its own sides and edges), and ends
in a Bright-green square.
}{ }{
The Orange line Azure square Leaf-green line
and ends in a
traces a
,, Crimson ,, Rose ,, Dull-green ,,

,, Green-grey ,, Sea-blue ,, Dark-purple ,,
,, Blue ,, Light-brown ,, Purple-brown ,,
}{ }{
and ends in a
traces a
,, Fawn ,, Smoke ,, Turquoise ,,

,, Terra-cotta ,, Magenta ,, Earthen ,,
,, Buff ,, Light-green ,, Blue-tiny ,,
This completes the enumeration of the regions of

Cube 3. It may seem a little unnatural that it should
come in downwards; but it must be remembered that
the new fourth direction has no more relation to up-and-
down than to right-and-left or to near-and-far.
And if, instead of thinking of a plane-being as living
on the surface of a table, we suppose his world to be the
surface of the sheet of paper touching the Dark-blue
square of Cube 1, then we see that a turn round the
Orange line, which makes the Brown line go into the
plane-being’s unknown direction, brings the Blue line
into his downwards direction.
There still remain to be described Models 4, 6, and 8.
It will be shown that Model 4 is to Model 3 what
Model 2 is to Model 1. That is, if, when 3 is in our
space, it be moved so as to trace a tessaract, 4 will be
the opposite cube in which the tessaract ends. There
is no colour common to 3 and 4. Similarly, 6 is the
opposite boundary of the tessaract generated by 5, and
8 of that by 7.
A little closer consideration will reveal several points.
Looking at Cube 5, we see proceeding from the Gold
point a Brown, a Blue, and a Stone line. The Orange
line is wanting; therefore, it goes in the unknown
direction. If we want to discover what exists in the
unknown direction from Cube 5, we can get help from
Cube 1. For, since the Orange line lies in the unknown
direction from Cube 5, the Gold point will, if moved
along the Orange line, pass in the unknown direction.
So also, the Vermilion square, if moved along in the
direction of the Orange line, will proceed in the un-
known direction. Looking at Cube 1 we see that
the Vermilion square thus moved ends in a Blue-green
square. Then, looking at Model 6, on it, corresponding
to the Vermilion square on Cube 5, is a Blue-green
square.
Cube 6 thus shows what exists an inch beyond 5
in the unknown direction. Between the right-hand
face on 5 and the right-hand face on 6 lies a cube, the
one which is shown in Model 1. Model 1 is traced by
the Vermilion square moving an inch along the direc-
tion of the Orange line. In Model 5, the Orange line
goes in the unknown direction; and looking at Model 6
we see what we should get at the end of a movement of
one inch in that direction. We have still to enumerate
the colours of Cubes 4, 6, and 8, and we do so in the
following list. In the first column is designated the
part of the cube; in the columns under 4, 6, 8, come the
colours which 4, 6, 8, respectively have in the parts
designated in the corresponding line in the first column.
4 6 8
Cube itself:— Chocloate Oak-yellow Salmon
Squares:—
Lower face Light-grey Rose Sea-blue
Upper White Deep-brown Deep-green
Left-hand Light-red Yellow-ochre Deep-crimson
Right-hand Deep-brown Blue-green Dark-grey
Near Ochre Yellow-green Dun
Far Deep-green Dark-grey Light-yellow
Lines:—
On ground, going round the square from left to
right:—
4 6 8
1. Brown-green Smoke Dark-purple
2. Dark-green Crimson Magenta
3. Pale-yellow Magenta Green-grey
4. Dark Dull-green Light-green
Vertical, going round the sides from left to right :-
1. Rich-red Dark-pink Indigo
2. Green-blue French-grey Pale-pink
3. Sea-green Dark-slate Dark-slate
4. Emerald Pale-pink Green
Round upper face in same order :-
1. Reddish Green-blue Pale-yellow
2. Bright-blue Bright-blue Sea-green
3. Leaden Sea-green Leaden
4. Deep-yellow Dark-green Emerald
Points :-
On lower face, going from left to right :-
1. Quaker-green Turquoise Blue-tint
2. Peacock-blue Fawn Earthen
3. Orange-vermilion Terrat-cotta Terra-cotta
4. Purple Earthen Buff
On upper face :-
1. Light-blue Peacock-blue Purple
2. Dull-purple Dull-purple Orange-vermilion
3. Deep-blue Deep-blue Deep-blue
4. Red Orange-vermilion Red
If any one of these cubes be taken at random, it is
easy enough to find out to what part of the Tessaract
it belongs. In all of them, except 2, there will be one
face, which is a copy of a face on 1; this face is, in
fact, identical with the face on I which it resembles.
And the model shows what lies in the unknown
direction from that face. This unknown direction is
turned into our space, so that we can see and touch the
result of moving a square in it. And we have sacrificed
one of the three original directions in order to do this.
It will be found that the line, which in 1 goes in the
4th direction, in the other models always runs in a
negative direction.
Let us take Model 8, for instance. Searching it for
a face we know, we come to a Light-yellow face away
from us. We place this face parallel with the Light-
yellow face on Cube 1, and we see that it has a Green
line going up, and a Green-grey line going to the right
from the Buff point. In these respects it is identical
with the Light-yeilow face on Cube 1. But instead of
a Blue line coming towards us from the Buff point,
there is a Light-green line. This Light-green line, then,
is that which proceeds in the unknown direction from
the Buff point. The line is turned towards us in this
Model 8 in the negative Y direction; and looking at
the model, we see exactly what is formed when in the
motion of the whole cube in the unknown direction,
the Light-yellow face is moved an inch in that direction.
It traces out a Salmon cube (v. Table on p. 127), and it
has Sea-blue and Deep-green sides below and above,
and Deep-crimson and Dark-grey sides left and right,
and Dun and Light-yellow sides near and far. If we
want to verify the correctness of any of these details, we
must turn to Models 1 and 2. What lies an inch from
the Light-yellow square in the unknown direction?
Model 2 tells us, a Dun square. Now, looking at 8,
we see that towards us lies a Dun square. This is what
lies an inch in the unknown direction from the Light-
yellow square. It is here turned to face us, and we
can see what lies between it and the Light-yellow
square.
CHAPTER IV.
TESSERACT MOVING THROUGH THREE-SPACE.
MODELS OF THE SECTIONS.
IN order to obtain a clear conception of the higher

solid, a certain amount of familiarity with the facts
shown in these models is necessary. But the best way
of obtaining a systematic knowledge is shown here-
after. What these models enable us to do, is to take a
general review of the subject. In all of them we see
simply the boundaries of the tessaract in our space;
we can no more see or touch the tessaract’s solidity
than a plane-being can touch the cube’s solidity.
There remain the four models 9, 10, 11, 12. Model 9
represents what lies between 1 and 2. If 1 be moved
an inch in the unknown direction, it traces out the
tessaract and ends in 2. But, obviously, between 1 and
2 there must be an infinite number of exactly similar
solid sections; these are all like Model 9.
Take the case of a plane-being on the table. He
sees the Black square,—that is, he sees the lines round
it,—and he knows that, if it moves an inch in some
mysterious direction, it traces a new kind of figure, the
opposite boundary whereof is the White square. If,
then, he has models of the White and Black squares,
he has before him the end and beginning of our cube.
But between these squares are any number of others,
the plane sections of the cube. We can see what they
130
Tesseract moving in Three-Space. 131
are. The interior of each is a Light-buff (the colour
of the substance of the cube), the sides are of the colours
of the vertical faces of the cube, and the points of the
colours of the vertical lines of the cube, viz., Dark-blue,
Blue-green, Light-yellow, Vermilion lines, and Brown,
French-grey, Dark-slate, Green points. Thus, the square,
in moving in the unknown direction, traces out a
succession of squares, the assemblage of which makes
the cube in layers. So also the cube, moving in the
unknown direction, will at any point of its motion,
still be a cube; and the assemblage of cubes thus placed
constitutes the tessaract in layers. We suppose the
cube to change its colour directly it begins to move.
Its colour between 1 and 2 we can easily determine
by finding what colours its different parts assume, as
they move in the unknown direction. The Gold point
immediately begins to trace a Stone-line. We will
look at Cube 5 to see what the Vermilion face becomes;
we know the interior of that cube is Pale-green (v. Table,
p. 122). Hence, as it moves in the unknown direction,
the Vermilion square forms in its course a series of
Pale-green squares. The Brown line gives rise to a
Yellow square; hence, at every point of its course in
the fourth direction, it is a Yellow line, until, on taking
its final position, it becomes a Dull-blue line. Looking
at Cube 5, we see that the Deep-yellow line becomes
a Light-red line, the Green line a Deep Crimson one,
the Gold point a Stone one, the Light-blue point a
Rich-red one, the Red point an Emerald one, and the
Buff point a Light-green one. Now, take the Model 9.
Looking at the left side of it, we see exactly that into
which the Vermilion square is transformed, as it moves
in the unknown direction. The left side is an exact
copy of a section of Cube 5, parallel to the Vermilion
face.
But we have only accounted for one side of our
Model 9. There are five other sides. Take the near
side corresponding to the Dark-blue square on Cube 1.
When the Dark-blue square moves, it traces a Dark-
stone cube, of which we have a copy in Cube 7. Look-
ing at 7 (v. Table, p. 124), we see that, as soon as the
Dark-blue square begins to move, it becomes of a Dark-
stone colour, and has Yellow, Ochre, Yellow-green, and
Azure sides, and Stone, Rich-red, Green-blue, Smoke
lines running in the unknown direction from it. Now,
the side of Model 9, which faces us, has these colours
the squares being seen as lines, and the lines as points.
Hence Model 9 is a copy of what the cube becomes,
so far as the Vermilion and Dark-blue sides are con-
cerned, when, moving in the unknown direction, it
traces the tessaract.
We will now look at the lower square of our model.
It is a Brick-red square, with Azure, Rose, Sea-blue,
and Light-brown lines, and with Stone, Smoke, Magenta,
and Light-green points. This, then, is what the Black
square should change into, as it moves in the unknown
direction. Let us look at Model 3. Here the Stone
line, which is the line in the unknown direction, runs
downwards. It is turned into the downwards direction,
so that the cube traced by the Black square may be
in our space. The colour of this cube is Brick-red;
the Orange line has traced an Azure, the Blue line a
Light-brown, the Crimson line a Rose, and the Green-
grey line a Sea-blue square. Hence, the lower square
of Model 9 shows what the Black square becomes, as
it traces the tessaract; or, in other words, the section
of Model 3 between the Black and Bright-green squares
exactly corresponds to the lower face of Model 9.
Therefore, it appears that Model 9 is a model of a
section of the tessaract, that it is to the tessaract what
Tesseract moving in Three-Space. 133
a square between the Black and White squares is to
the cube.
To prove the other sides correct, we have to see what
the White, Blue-green, and Light-yellow squares of
Cube 1 become, as the cube moves in the unknown
direction. This can be effected by means of the Models
4, 6 , 8. Each cube can be used as an index for showing
the changes through which any side of the first model
passes, as it moves in the unknown direction till it
becomes Cube 2. Thus, what becomes of the White
square? Look at Cube 4. From the Light-blue corner
of its White square runs downwards the Rich-red line
in the unknown direction. If we take a parallel section
below the White square, we have a square bounded
by Ochre, Deep-brown, Deep-green, and Light-red
lines; and by Rich-red, Green-blue, Sea-green, and
Emerald points. The colour of the cube is Chocolate,
and therefore its section is Chocolate. This description
is exactly true of the upper surface of Model 9.
There still remain two sides, those corresponding to
the Light-yellow and Blue-green of Cube 1. What the
Blue-green square becomes midway between Cubes 1 and
2 can be seen on Model 6. The colour of the last-named
is Oak-yellow, and a section parallel to its Blue-green
side is surrounded by Yellow-green, Deep-brown, Dark-
grey and Rose lines and by Green-blue, Smoke, Magenta,
and Sea-green points. This is exactly similar to the
right side of Model 9. Lastly, that which becomes of
the Light-yellow side can be seen on Model 8. The sec-
tion of the cube is a Salmon square bounded by Deep-
crimson, Deep-green, Dark-grey and Sea-blue lines and
by Emerald, Sea-green, Magenta, and Light-green points.
Thus the models can be used to answer any question
about sections. For we have simply to take, instead of
the whole cube, a plane, and the relation of the whole
tessaract to that plane can be told by looking at the
model, which, starting with that plane, stretches from it
in the unknown direction.
We have not as yet settled the colour of the interior
of Model 9. It is that part of the tessaract which is
traced out by the interior of Cube 1. The unknown
direction starts equally and simultaneously from every
point of every part of Cube 1, just as the up direction
starts equally and simultaneously from every point of a
square. Let us suppose that the cube, which is Light-
buff, changes to a Wood-colour directly it begins to trace
the tessaract. Then the internal part of the section be-
tween 1 and 2 will be a Wood-colour. The sides of the
Model 9 are of the greatest importance. They are the
colour of the six cubes, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8. The colours
of 1 and 2 are wanting, viz. Light-buff and Sage-green.
Thus the section between 1 and 2 can be found by its
wanting the colours of the Cubes 1 and 2.
Looking at Models 10, 11, and 12 in a similar manner,
the reader will find they represent the sections between
Cubes 3 and 4, Cubes 5 and 6, and Cubes 7 and 8 re-
spectively.
CHAPTER V.
REPRESENTATION OF THREE-SPACE BY NAMES, AND
IN A PLANE.
WE may now ask ourselves the best way of passing on

to a clear comprehension of the facts of higher space.
Something can be effected by looking at these models;
but it is improbable that more than a slight sense of
analogy will be obtained thus. Indeed, we have been
trusting hitherto to a method which has something
vicious about it—we have been trusting to our sense of
what must be. The plan adopted, as the serious effort
towards the comprehension of this subject, is to learn a
small portion of higher space. If any reader feel a diffi-
culty in the foregoing chapters, or if the subject is to be
taught to young minds, it is far better to abandon all
attempt to see what higher space must be, and to learn
what it is from the following chapters.
NAMING A PIECE OF SPACE.

The diagram (Fig. 6) represents a block of 27 cubes,
which form Set 1 of the 81 cubes. The cubes are
coloured, and it will be seen that the colours are ar-
ranged after the pattern of Model 1 of previous chapters,
which will serve as a key to the block. In the diagram, G.
denotes Gold, O. Orange, F. Fawn, Br. Brown, and so on.
We will give names to the cubes of this block. They
135
should not be learnt, but kept for reference. We will
write these names in three sets, the longest consisting of
the cubes which touch the table, the next of those im-
mediately above them, and the third of those at the top.
Thus the Gold cube is called Corvus, the Orange, Cuspis,
the Fawn, Nugæ, and the central one below, Syce. The
corresponding colours of the following set can easily be
traced.
Olus Seinita Lama

Via Mel Iter
Ilex Callis Sors
Bucina Musex Daps

Alvus Mala Proes
Arctos Mœna Far
Cista Cadus Crus

Dos Syce Bolus
Corvus Cuspis Nugæ
Thus the central or Light-buff cube is called Mala; the

middle one of the lower face is Syce; of the upper face
Mel; of the right face, Proes; of the left, Alvus; of the
front, Mcena (the Dark-blue square of Model 1); and of
the back, Murex (the Light-yellow square).
Now, if Model 1 be taken, and considered as represent-
ing a block of 64 cubes, the Gold corner as one cube, the
Orange line as two cubes, the Fawn point as one cube,
the Dark-blue square as four cubes, the Light-buff interior
as eight cubes, and so on, it will correspond to the dia-
gram (Fig. 7). This block differs from the last in the
number of cubes, but the arrangement of the colours is
the same. The following table gives the names which
we will use for these cubes. There are no new names;
they are only applied more than once to all cubes of the
same colour.
L.Bl. R. R. D.P.
L.Bl. R. D.P.
Br D.Bl. D.Bl. F.Gr.
Br D.Bl. F.Gr.
Br D.Bl. D.Bl. F.Gr.
G O F
G O O F
Fig.6
Fig.7
L.Bl. R. R. R. D.P.
Br D.Bl. D.Bl. D.Bl. F.Gr.
G O O O F
Fig.8
Three-Space by Names, and in a Plane. 137
{
Olus Semita Semita Lama
Fourth Via Mel Mel Iter
Floor. Via Mel Mel Iter
Ilex Callis Callis Sors
{
Bucina Murex Murex Daps
Third Alvus Mala Mala Proes
Floor. Alvus Mala Mala Proes
Arctos Mœna Mœna Far
{
Bucina Murex Murex Daps
Second Alvus Mala Mala Proes
Floor. Alvus Mala Mala Proes
Arctos Mœna Mœna Far
{
Cista Cadus Cadus Crus
First Dos Syce Syce Bolus
Floor. Dos Syce Syce Bolus
Corvus Cuspis Cuspis Nugæ
If we now consider Model 1 to represent a block, five

cubes each way, built up of inch cubes, and colour it in
the same way, that is, with similar colours for the corner-
cubes, edge-cubes, face-cubes, and interior-cubes, we
obtain what is represented in the diagram (Fig. 8).
Here we have nine Dark-blue cubes called Mœna; that
is, Mœna denotes the nine Dark-blue cubes, forming a
layer on the front of the cube, and filling up the whole
front except the edges and points. Cuspis denotes three
Orange, Dos three Blue, and Arctos three Brown cubes.
Now, the block of cubes can be similarly increased to
any size we please. The corners will always consist of
single cubes; that is, Corvus will remain a single cubic
inch, even though the block be a hundred inches each
way. Cuspis, in that case, will be 98 inches long, and
consist of a row of 98 cubes; Arctos, also, will be a long
thin line of cubes standing up. Mœna will be a thin
layer of cubes almost covering the whole front of the
block; the number of them will be 98 times 98. Syce
will be a similar square layer of cubes on the ground, so
also Mel, Alvus, Proes, and Murex in their respective
places. Mala, the interior of the cube, will consist of
98 times 98 times 98 inch cubes.
Now, if we continued in this manner till me had a
very large block of thousands of cubes in each side
Corvus would, in comparison to the whole block, be a
minute point of a cubic shape, and Cuspis would be a
mere line of minute cubes, which would have length, but
very small depth or height. Next, if we suppose this
much sub-divided block to be reduced in size till it be-
comes one measuring an inch each way, the cubes of
which it consists must each of them become extremely
minute, and the corner cubes and line cubes would be
scarcely discernible. But the cubes on the faces would
be just as visible as before. For instance, the cubes com-
posing Mœna would stretch out on the face of the cube
so as to fill it up. They would form a layer of extreme
thinness, but would cover the face of the cube (all of it
except the minute lines and points). Thus we may use
the words Corvus and Nugæ etc., to denote the corner-
points of the cube, the words Mœna, Syce, Mel, Alvus,
Proes, Murex, to denote the faces. It must be remem-
bered that these faces have a thickness, but it is ex-
tremely minute compared with the cube. Mala would
denote all the cubes of the interior except those, which
compose the faces, edges, and points. Thus, Mala would
practically mean the whole cube except the colouring on
it. And it is in this sense that these words will be used.
In the models, the Gold point is intended to be a Corvus,
only it is made large to be visible; so too the Orange
line is meant for Cuspis, but magnified for the same
reason. Finally, the 27 names of cubes, with which we
began, come to be the names of the points, lines, and
faces of a cube, as shown in the diagram (Fig. 9). With
Ol
ma
us Semita
La
Via Mel So r
Il rs
ex Callis Ite
Daps
Bucina
Murex
s
s
Arctos
oe
vu
Ci Mœna
Far
Pr
Al
st
a Cadus Cr
us
os
lus
D
Syce
Bo
us Cuspis
rv
Nu
Co
ga
Fig.9
these names it is easy to express what a plane-being
would see of any cube. Let us suppose that Mœna is
only of the thickness of his matter. We suppose his
matter to be composed of particles, which slip about on
his plane, and are so thin that he cannot by any means
discern any thickness in them. So he has no idea of
thickness. But we know that his matter must have some
thickness, and we suppose Mœna to be of that degree of
thickness. If the cube be placed so that Mœna is in his
plane, Corvus, Cuspis, Nugæ, Far, Sors, Callis, Ilex and
Arctos will just come into his apprehension; they will be
like bits of his matter, while all that is beyond them in
the direction he does not know, will be hidden from him.
Thus a plane-being can only perceive the Mœena or Syce
or some one other face of a cube; that is, he would take
the Mœna of a cube to be a solid in his plane-space, and
he would see the lines Cuspis, Far, Callis, Arctos. To him
they would bound it. The points Corvus, Nugæ, Sors,
and Ilex, he would not see, for they are only as long as
the thickness of his matter, and that is so slight as to be
indiscernible to him.
We must now go with great care through the exact
processes by which a plane-being would study a cube.
For this purpose we use square slabs which have a cer-
tain thickness, but are supposed to be as thin as a plane-
being’s matter. Now, let us take the first set of 81 cubes
again, and build them from 1 to 27. We must realize
clearly that two kinds of blocks can be built. It may
be built of 27 cubes, each similar to Model 1, in which
case each cube has its regions coloured, but all the cubes
are alike. Or it may be built of 27 differently coloured
cubes like Set 1, in which case each cube is coloured
wholly with one colour in all its regions. If the latter
set be used, we can still use the names Mœna, Alvus, etc.
to denote the front, side, etc., of any one of the cubes,
whatever be its colour. When they are built up, place
a piece of card against the front to represent the plane
on which the plane-being lives. The front of each of
the cubes in the front of the block touches the plane.
In previous chapters we have supposed Mœna to be a
Blue square. But we can apply the name to the front
of a cube of any colour. Let us say the Mœna of each
front cube is in the plane; the Mœna of the Gold cube
is Gold, and so on. To represent this, take nine slabs
of the same colours as the cubes. Place a stiff piece of
cardboard (or a book-cover) slanting from you, and put
the slabs on it. They can be supported on the incline
so as to prevent their slipping down away from you by
a thin book, or another sheet of cardboard, which stands
for the surface of the plane-being’s earth.
We will now give names to the cubes of Block 1 of
the 81 Set. We call each one Mala, to denote that it is
a cube. They are written in the following list in floors
or layers, and are supposed to run backwards or away
from the reader. Thus, in the first layer, Frenum Mala
is behind or farther away than Urna Mala; in the
second layer, Ostrum is in front, Uncus behind it, and
Ala behind Uncus.
{
Third, or Mars Mala Merces Mala Tyro Mala
Top Spicula Mala Mora Mala Oliva Mala
Floor. Comes Mala Tibicen Mala Vestis Mala
{
Second, or Ala Mala Cortis Mala Aera Mala
Middle Uncus Mala Pallor Mala Tergum Mala
Floor. Ostrum Mala Bidens Mala Scena Mala
{
First, or Sector Mala Hama Mala Remus Mala
Bottom Frenum Mala Plebs Mala Sypho Mala
Floor. Urna Mala Moles Mala Saltus Mala
These names should be learnt so that the different

cubes in the block can be referred to quite easily and
–Z
–X X
Urna Moles
Ostrum
Fig.10
Z
immediately by name. They must be learnt in every
order, that is, in each of the three directions backwards
and forwards, e.g. Urna to Saltus, Urna to Sector, Urna
to Comes; and the same reversed, viz., Comes to Urna,
Sector to Urna, etc. Only by so learning them can
the mind identify any one individually without even a
momentary reference to the others around it. It is well
to make it a rule not to proceed from one cube to a
distant one without naming the intermediate cubes.
For, in Space we cannot pass from one part to another
without going through the intermediate portions. And,
in thinking of Space, it is well to accustom our minds to
the same limitations.
Urna Mala is supposed to be solid Gold an inch each
way; so too all the cubes are supposed to be entirely of
the colour which they show on their faces. Thus any
section of Moles Mala will be Orange, of Plebs Mala
Black, and so on.
Let us now draw a pair of lines on a piece of paper
or cardboard like those in the diagram (Fig. 10). In
this diagram the top of the page is supposed to rest on
the table, and the bottom of the page to be raised and
brought near the eye, so that the plane of the diagram
slopes upwards to the reader. Let Z denote the upward
direction, and X the direction from left to right. Let
us turn the Block of cubes with its front upon this
slope i.e. so that Urna fits upon the square marked
Urna. Moles will be to the right and Ostrum above
Urna, i.e. nearer the eye. We might leave the block as it
stands and put the piece of cardboard against it; in this
case our plane-world would be vertical. It is difficult to
fix the cubes in this position on the plane, and therefore
more convenient if the cardboard be so inclined that
they will not slip off. But the upward direction must
be identified with Z. Now, taking the slabs, let us
compose what a plane-being would see of the Block.
He would perceive just the front faces of the cubes of
the Block, as it comes into his plane; these front faces
we may call the Mœnas of the cubes. Let each of the
slabs represent the Mœna of its corresponding cube, the
Gold slab of the Gold cube and so on. They are thicker
than they should be; but we must overlook this and
suppose we simply see the thickness as a line. We thus
build a square of nine slabs to represent the appearance
to a plane-being of the front face of the Block. The
middle one, Ridens Mœna, would be completely hidden
from him by the others on all its sides, and he would
see the edges of the eight outer squares. If the Block
now begin to move through the plane, that is, to cut
through the piece of paper at right angles to it, it will
not for some time appear any different. For the sections
of Urna are all Gold like the front face Mœna, so that
the appearance of Urna at any point in its passage will
be a Gold square exactly like Urna Moena, seen by the
plane-being as a line. Thus, if the speed of the Block’s
passage be one inch a minute, the plane-being will see
no change for a minute. In other words, this set of
slabs lasting one minute will represent what he sees.
When the Block has passed one inch, a different set
of cubes appears. Remove the front layer of cubes.
There will now be in contact with the paper nine new
cubes, whose names we write in the order in which we
should see them through a piece of glass standing up-
right in front of the Block:
Spicula Mala Mora Mala Oliva Mala
Uncus MaIa Pallor Mala Tergum Mala
Frenum Mala Plebs Mala Sypho Mala
We pick out nine slabs to represent the Mœnas of

these cubes, and placed in order they show what the
plane-being sees of the second set of cubes as they pass
through. Similarly the third wall of the Block will
come into the plane, and looking at them similarly, as
it were through an upright piece of glass, we write their
names:
Mars Mala Merces Mala Tyro Mala
Ala MaIa Cortis Mala Aer Mala
Sector Mala Hama Mala Remus Mala
Now, it is evident that these slabs stand at different

times for different parts of the cubes. We can imagine
them to stand for the Mœna of each cube as it passes
through. In that case, the first set of slabs, which we
put up, represents the Mœnas of the front wall of cubes;
the next set, the Mœnas of the second wall. Thus, if
all the three sets of slabs be together on the table, we
have a representation of the sections of the cube. For
some purposes it would be better to have four sets of
slabs, the fourth set representing the Murex of the
third wall; for the three sets only show the front faces
of the cubes, and therefore would not indicate anything
about the back faces of the Block. For instance, if a
line passed through the Block diagonally from the
point Corvus (Gold) to the point Lama (Deep-blue), it
would be represented on the slabs by a point at the
bottom left-hand corner of the Gold slab, a second point
at the same corner of the Light-buff slab, and a third
at the same corner of the Deep-blue slab. Thus, we
should have the points mapped at which the line entered
the fronts of the walls of cubes, but not the point in
Lama at which it would leave the Block.
Let the Diagrams 1, 2, 3 (Fig. 11), be the three sets
of slabs. To see the diagrams properly, the reader must
set the top of the page on the table, and look along the
page from the bottom of it. The line in question, which
runs from the bottom left-hand near corner to the top
right-hand far corner of the Block will be represented in
the three sets of slabs by the points A, B, C. To com-
plete the diagram of its course, we need a fourth set of
slabs for the Murex of the third wall; the same object
might be attained, if we had another Block of 27 cubes
behind the first Rlock and represented its front or
Mœnas by a set of slabs. For the point, at which the
line leaves the first Block is identical with that at which
it enters the second Block.
If we suppose a sheet of glass to be the plane-world,
the Diagrams 1, 2, 3 (Fig. 11), may be drawn more
naturally to us as Diagrams a, b, g (Fig. 12). Here a
represents the Moenas of the first wall, b those of the
second, g those of the third. But to get the plane-
being’s view we must look over the edge of the glass
down the Z axis.
Set 2 of slabs represent the Mœnas of Wall 2. These
Mœnas are in contact with the Murex of Wall 1. Thus
Set 2 will show where the line issues from Wall 1 as
well as where it enters Wall 2.
The plane-being, therefore, could get an idea of the
Block of cubes by learning these slabs. He ought not
to call the Gold slab Urna Mala, but Urna Mœna, and
so on, because all that he learns are Mœnas, merely the
thin faces of the cubes. By introducing the course of
time, he can represent the Block more nearly. For, if
he supposes it to be passing an inch a minute, he may
give the name Urna Mala to the Gold slab enduring for
a minute.
But, when he has learnt the slabs in this position and
sequence, he has only a very partial view of the Block.
Let the Block turn round the Z axis, as Model 1 turns
round the Brown line. A different set of cubes comes
into his plane, and now they come in on the Alvus
A X X X
B
C
(1) (2) (3)

Z Z Z
Fig.11
G (á) F (â) (ã)

Fig.12
-Z
-X O X -X O -X O
Sector Frenum Urna
Merces Mora Tibicen Tyro Oliva Vestis
(1) Z (2) Z (3)

Fig.13
-Z -Z -Z
Urna Moles Saltus Ostrum Bidens Scena Comes Tibicen Vestis

X O X X
O (2) O (3)
(1)
Fig.14
faces. (Alvus is here used to denote the left-hand faces
of the cubes, and is not supposed to be Vermilion; it is
simply the thinnest slice on the left hand of the cube and
of the same colour as the cube.) To represent this,
the plane-being should employ a fresh set of slabs, for
there is nothing common to the Mœna and Alvus faces
except an edge. But, since each cube is of the same
colour throughout, the same slab may be used for its
different faces. Thus the Alvus of Urna Mala can be
represented by a Gold slab. Only it must never be
forgotten that it is meant to be a new slab, and is not
identical with the same slab used for Mœna.
Now, when the Block of cubes has turned round the
Brown line into the plane, it is clear that they will be
on the side of the Z axis opposite to that on which
were the Mœna slabs. The line, which ran Y, now runs
–X. Thus the slabs will occupy the second quadrant
marked by the axes, as shown in the diagram (Fig. 13).
Each of these slabs we will name Alvus. In this view,
as before, the book is supposed to be tilted up towards
the reader, so that the Z axis runs from O to his eye.
Then, if the Block be passed at right angles through the
plane, there will come into view the two sets of slabs
represented in the Diagrams (Fig. 13). In copying this
arrangement with the slabs, the cardboard on which
they are arranged must slant upwards to the eye, i.e.,
OZ must run up to the eye, and the sides of the slabs
seen are in Diagram 2 (Fig. 13), the upper edges of
Tibicen, Mora, Merces; in Diagram 3, the upper edges
of Vestis, Oliva, Tyro.
There is another view of the Block possible to a plane-
being. If the Block be turned round the X axis, the
lower face comes into the vertical plane. This corre-
sponds to turning Model 1 round the Orange line. On
referring to the diagram (Fig. 14), we now see that the
name of the faces of thc cubes coming into the plane is
Syce. Here the plane-being looks from the extremity
of the Z axis and the squares, which he sees run from
him in the –Z direction. (As this turn of the Block
brings its Syce into the vertical plane so that it ex-
tends three inches below the base line of its Mœna, it
is evident that the turn is only possible if the Mœna be
originally at a height of at least three inches above the
plane-being’s earth line in the vertical plane.) Next, if
the Block be passed through the plane, the sections
shown in the Diagrams 2 and 3 (Fig. 14) are brought
into view.
Thus, there are three distinct ways of regarding the
cubic Block, each of them equally primary; and if the
plane-being is to have a correct idea of the Block, he
must be equally familiar with each view. By means of
the slabs each aspect can be represented; but we must
remember in each of the three cases, that the slabs
represent different parts of the cube.
When we look at the cube Pallor Mala in space, we
see that it touches six other cubes by its six faces. But
the plane-being could only arrive at this fact by com-
paring different views. Taking the three Mœna sec-
tions of the Block, he call see that Pallor Mala Mœna
touches Plebs Mœna, Mora Mœna, Uncus Mœna, and
Tergum Mœna by lines. And it takes the place of
Bidens Mœna, and is itself displaced by Cortis Mœna
as the Block passes through the plane. Next, this
same Pallor Mala can appear to him as an Alvus. In
this case, it touches Plebs Alvus, Mora Alvus, Bidens
Alvus, and Cortis Alvus by lines, takes the place of
Uncus Alvus, and is itself displaced by Tergum Alvus
as the Block moves. Similarly he can observe the
relations, if the Syce of the Block be in his plane.
Hence, this unknown body Pallor Mala appears to
X -X
Urna Moles Moles Urna
Mœna Mœna Mœna Mœna
Bidens Bidens
Mœna Mœna
Tibicen Tibicen
Mœna Mœna
Fig.15 Fig.16
Z Z
him now as one plane-figure now as another, and comes
before him in different connections. Pallor Mala is that
which satisfies all these relations. Each of them he can
in turn present to sense; but the total conception of
Pallor Mala itself can only, if at all, grow up in his mind.
The way for him to form this mental conception, is to
go through all the practical possibilities which Pallor
Mala would afford him by its various movements and
turns. In our world these various relations are found
by the most simple observations; but a plane-being
could only acquire them by considerable labour. And
if he determined to obtain a knowledge of the physical
existence of a higher world than his own, he must pass
through such discipline.
––—————————
We will see what change could be introduced into the
shapes he builds by the movements, which he does not
know in his world. Let us build up this shape with the
cubes of the Block: Urna Mala, Moles Mala, Bidens
Mala, Tibicen Mala. To the plane-being this shape
would be the slabs, Urna Mœna, Moles Mœna, Bidens
Mœna, Tibicen Mœna (Fig. 15). Now let the Block
be turned round the Z axis, so that it goes past the
position, in which the Alvus sides enter the vertical
plane. Let it move until, passing through the plane,
the same Mœna sides come in again. The mass of the
Block will now have cut through the plane and be on the
near side of it towards us; but the Mœna faces only will
be on the plane-being’s side of it. The diagram (Fig. 16)
show what he will see, and it will seem to him similar
to the first shape (Fig. 15) in every respect except
its disposition with regard to the Z axis. It lies in the
direction –X, opposite to that of the first figure. How-
ever much he turn these two figures about in the plane,
he cannot make one occupy the place of the other, part
for part. Hence it appears that, if we turn the plane-
being’s figure about a line, it undergoes an operation
which is to him quite mysterious. He cannot by any
turn in his plane produce the change in the figure pro-
duced by us. A little observation will show that a
plane-being can only turn round a point. Turning
round a line is a process unknown to him. Therefore
one of the elements in a plane-being’s knowledge of a
space higher than his own, will be the conception of a
kind of turning which mill change his solid bodies into
their own images.
CHAPTER VI.
THE MEANS BY WHICH A PLANE-BEING WOULD
AQUIRE A CONCEPTION OF OUR FIGURES.
TAKE the Block of twenty-seven Mala cubes, and build

up the following shape (Fig. 18):—
Urna Mala, Moles Mala, Plebs Mala, Pallor Mala,
Mora Mala.
If this shape, passed through the vertical plane, the
plane-being would perceive :-
(1) The squares Urna Mœna and Moles Mœna.
(2) The three squares Plebs Mœna, Pallor Mœna,
Mora Mœna,
and then the whole figure would have passed through
his plane.
If the whole Block were turned round the Z axis till
the Alvus sides entered, and the figure built up as it
would be in that disposition of the cubes, the plane-being
would perceive during its passage through the plane:—
(1) Urna Alvus;
(2) Moles Alvus, Plebs Alvus, Pallor Alvus, Mora
Alvus, which would all enter on the left side of the Z
axis.
Again, if the Block were turned round the X axis, the
Syce side would enter, and the cubes appear in the
following order:—
(1) Urna Syce, Moles Syce, Plebs Syce;
(2) Pallor Syce;
(3) Mora Syce.
149
A comparison of these three scts of appearances would
give the plane-being a full account of the figure. It is
that which can produce these various appearances.
Let us now suppose a glass plate placed in front of
the Block in its first position. On this plate let the axes
X and Z be drawn. They divide the surface into four
parts, to which we give the following names (Fig. 17):—
Z X = that quarter defined by the positive Z and posi-
tive X axis.
Z X̄ = that quarter defined by the positive Z and
negative X axis (which is called “Z negative X”).
Z̄ X̄ = that quarter defined by the negative Z and
negative X axis.
Z̄ X = that quarter defined by the negative Z and
positive X axis.
The Block appears in these different quarters or quad-
rants, as it is turned round the different axes. In Z X
the Mœnas appear, in Z X̄ the Alvus faces, in Z̄ X the
Syces. In each quadrant are drawn nine squares, to
receive the faces of the cubes when they enter. For
instance, in Z X we have the Mœnas of :-
Z
Comes Tibicen Vestis
Ostrum Bidens Scena
Urna Moles Saltus
X
And in Z X̄ we have the Alvus of:—
Z
Mars Spicula Comes
Ala Uncus Ostrum
Sector Frenum Urna
–X
And in the Z̄ X we have the Syces of:—
X
Urna Moles Saltus
Frenum Plebs Sypho
Sector Hama Remus
–Z
Z
Alvus Mœnas
-X X
Syces
Fig.17
-Z
Z Z Y
-X X
(1) (2)
Y
Fig.18
(3)
-Z
Z Z
-X X
(1) (2) X
(3)
Fig.19
-Z
Plane-Being’s Conception of our Figures. 151
Now, if the shape taken at the beginning of this chapter
be looked at through the glass, and the distance of the
second and third walls of the shape behind the glass
be considered of no account—that is, if they be treated
as close up to the glass—we get a plane outline, which
occupies the squares Urna Mœna, Moles Mœna, Bidens
Mœna, Tibicen Mœna. This outline is called a pro-
jection of the figure. To see it like a plane-being, we
should have to look down on it along the Z axis.
It is obvious that one projection does not give the
shape. For instance, the square Bidens Mœna might
be filled by either Pallor or Cortis. All that a square in
the room of Bidens Mœna denotes, is that there is a
cube somewhere in the Y, or unknown, direction from
Bidens Mœna. This view, just taken, we should call
the front view in our space; we are then looking at it
along the negative Y axis.
When the same shape is turned round on the Z axis,
so as to be projected on the Z X̄ quadrant, we have the
squares—Urna Alvus, Frenum Alvus, Uncus Alvus,
Spicula Alvus. When it is turned round the X axis,
and projected on Z̄ X, we have the squares, Urna Syce,
Moles Syce, Plebs Syce, and no more. This is what is
ordinarily called the ground plan; but we have set it in a
different position from that in which it is usually drawn.
Now, the best method for a plane-being of familiar-
izing himself with shapes in our space, would be to
practise the realization of them from their different pro-
jections in his plane. Thus, given the three projections
just mentioned, he should be able to construct the figure
from which they are derived. The projections (Fig. 19)
are drawn below the perspective pictures of the shape
(Fig. 18). From the front, or Mœna view, he would
conclude that the shape was Urna Mala, Moles Mala,
Bidens Mala, Tibicen Mala; or instead of these, or also
in addition to them, any of the cubes running in the Y
direction from the plane. That is, from the Mœna pro-
jection he might infer the presence of all the following
cubes (the word Mala is omitted for brevity): Urna,
Frenum, Sector, Moles, Plebs, Hama, Bidens, Pallor,
Cortis, Tibicen, Mora, Merces.
Next, the Alvus view or projection might be given by
the cubes (the word Mala being again omitted): Urna,
Moles, Saltus, Frenum, Plebs, Sypho, Uncus, Pallor,
Tergum, Spicula, Mora, Oliva. Lastly, looking at the
ground plan or Syce view, he would infer the possible
presence of Urna, Ostrum, Comes, Moles, Bidens,
Tibicen, Plebs, Pallor, Mora.
Now, the shape in higher space, which is usually there,
is that which is common to all these three appearances.
It can be determined, therefore, by rejecting those cubes
which are not present in all three lists of cubes possible
from the projections. And by this process the plane-
being could arrive at the enumeration of the cubes
which belong to the shape of which he had the pro-
jections. After a time, when he had experience of the
cubes (which, though invisible to him as wholes, he
could see part by part in turn entering his space), the
projections would have more meaning to him, and he
might comprehend the shape they expressed fragmen-
tarily in his space. To practise the realization from
projections, we should proceed in this way. First, we
should think of the possibilities involved in the Mœna
view, and build them up in cubes before us. Secondly,
we should build up the cubes possible from the Alvus
view. Again, taking the shape at the beginning of the
chapter, wc should find that the shape of the Alvus
possibilities intersected that of the Mœna possibilities in
Urna, Moles, Frenum, Plebs, Pallor, Mora; or, in other
words, these cubes are common to both. Thirdly, we
should build up the Syce possibilities, and, comparing
their shape with those of the Mœna and Alvus pro-
jections, we should find Urna, Moles, Plebs, Pallor, Mora,
of the Syce view coinciding with the same cubes of the
other views, the only cube present in the intersection of
the Mœna and Alvus possibilities, and not present in
the Syce view, being Frenum.
The determinaticn of the figure denoted by the three
projections, may be more easily effected by treating each
projection as an indication of what cubes are to be cut
away. Taking the same shape as before, we have in the
Mœna projection Urna, Moles, Bidens, Tibicen; and
the possibilities from them are Urna, Frenum, Sector,
Moles, Plebs, Hama, Bidens, Pallor, Cortis, Tibicen,
Mora, Merces. This may aptly be called the Mœna
solution. Now, from the Syce projection, we learn at
once that those cubes, which in it would produce Frenum,
Sector, Hama, Remus, Sypho, Saltus, are not in the
shape. This absence of Frenum and Sector in the Syce
view proves that their presence in the Mœna solution is
superfluous. The absence of Hama removes the possi-
bility of Hama, Cortis, Merces. The absence of Remus,
Sypho, Saltus, makes no difference, as neither they nor
any of their Syce possibilities are present in the Mœna
solution. Hence, the result of comparison of the Mœna
and Syce projections and possibilities is the shape:
Urna, Moles, Plebs, Bidens, Pallor, Tibicen, Mora. This
may be aptly called the Mœna-Syce solution. Now,
in the Alvus projection we see that Ostrum, Comes,
Sector, Ala, and Mars are absent. The absence of
Sector, Ala, and Mars has no effect on our Mœna-Syce
solution; as it does not contain any of their Alvus possi-
bilities. But the absence of Ostrum and Comes proves
that in the Mœna-Syce solution Bidens and Tibicen are
superfluous, since their presence in the original shape
would give Ostrum and Comes in the Alvus projection.
Thus we arrive at the Mœna-Alvus-Syce solution,
which gives us the shape: Urna, Moles, Plebs, Pallor,
Mora.
It will be obvious on trial that a shape can be instantly
recognised from its three projections, if the Block be
thoroughly well known in all three positions. Any
difficulty in the realization of the shapes comes from the
arbitrary habit of associating the cubes with some one
direction in which they happen to go with regard to us.
If we remember Ostrum as above Urna, we are not
remembering the Block, but only one particular relation
of the Block to us. That position of Ostrum is a fact
as much related to ourselves as to the Block. There is,
of course, some information about the Block implied in
that position; but it is so mixed with information about
ourselves as to be ineffectual knowledge of the Block.
It is of the highest importance to enter minutely into
all the details of solution written above. For, corre-
sponding to every operation necessary to a plane-being
for the comprehension of our world, there is an opera-
tion, with which we have to become familiar, if in our
turn we would enter into some comprehension of a
world higher than our own. Every cube of the Block
ought to be thoroughly known in all its relations. And
the Block must be regarded, not as a formless mass out
of which shapes can be made, but as the sum of all
possible shapes, from which any one me may choose is a
selection. In fact, to be familiar with the Block, we
ought to know every shape that could be made by any
selection of its cubes; or, in other words, we ought to
make an exhaustive study of it. In the Appendix is
given a set of exercises in the use of these names (which
form a language of shape), and in various kinds of pro-
jections. The projections studied in this chapter are
not the only, nor the most natural, projections by which
a plane-being would study higher space. But they
suffice as an illustration of our present purpose. If the
reader will go through the exercises in the Appendix,
and form others for himself, he will find every bit of
manipulation done will bc of service to him in the com-
prehension of higher space.
There is one point of view in the study of the Block
by means of slabs, which is of some interest. The cubes
of the Block, and therefore also the representative slabs
of their faces, can be regarded as forming rows and
columns. There are three sets of them. If we take
the Mœna view, they represent the views of the three
walls of the Block, as they pass through the plane. To
form the Alvus view, we only have to rearrange the
slabs, and form new sets. The first new set is formed
by taking the first, or left-hand, column of each of the
Mœna sets. The second Alvus set is formed by taking
the second or middle columns of the three Mœna sets.
The third will consist of the rcmaining or right-hand
columns of the Mœnas.
Similarly, the three Syce sets may be formed from
the three horizontal rows or floors of the Mœna sets.
Hence, it appears that the plane-being would study
our space by taking all the possible combinations of the
corresponding solvs and columns. He would break up
the first three sets into other sets, and the study of the
Block would practically become to him the study of
these various arrangements.
CHAPTER VII.
FOUR-SPACE: ITS REPRESENTATION IN THREE-
SPACE.
WE now come to the essential difficulty of our task.

All that has gone before is preliminary. We have now
to frame the method by which we shall introduce
through our space-figures the figures of a higher space.
When a plane-being studies our shapes of cubes, he has
to use squares. He is limited at the outset. A cube
appears to him as a square. On Model 1 we see the
various squares as which the cube can appear to him.
We suppose the plane-being to look from the extremity
of the Z axis down a vertical plane. First, there is the
Mœna square. Then there is the square given by a
section parallel to Mœna, which he recognises by the
variation of the bounding lines as soon as the cube
begins to pass through his plane. Then comes the
Murex square. Next, if the cube be turned round the
Z axis and passed through, he sees the Alvus and Proes
squares and the intermediate section. So too with the
Syce and Mel squares and the section between them.
Now, dealing with figures in higher space, we are in
an analogous position. We cannot grasp the element
of which they are composed. We can conceive a cube;
but that which corresponds to a cube in higher space is
beyond our grasp. But the plane-being was obliged to
use two-dimensional figures, squares, in arriving at a
notion of a three-dimensional figure; so also must we
156
Representation of Four-Space. 157
use three-dimensional figures to arrive at the notion of
a four-dimensional. Let us call the figure which corre-
sponds to a square in a plane and a cube in our space, a
tessaract. Model 1 is a cube. Let us assume a tessa-
ract generated from it. Let us call the tessaract Urna.
The generating cube may then be aptly called Urna Mala.
We may use cubes to represent parts of four-space, but
we must always remember that they are to us, in our
study, only what squares are to a plane-being with re-
spect to a cube.
Let us again examine the mode in which a plane-
being represents a Rlock of cubes with slabs. Take
Block 1 of the 81 Set of cubes. The plane-being repre-
sents this by nine slabs, which represent the Mœna face
of the block. Then, omitting the solidity of these first
nine cubes, he takes another set of nine slabs to repre-
sent the next wall of cubes. Lastly, he represents the
third wall by a third set, omitting the solidity of both
second and third walls. In this manner, he evidently
represents the extension of the Block upwards and side-
ways, in the Z and X directions; but in the Y direction
he is powerless, and is compelled to represent extension
in that direction by setting the three sets of slabs
alongside in his plane. The second and third sets denote
the height and breadth of the respective walls, but
not their depth or thickness. Now, note that the Block
extends three inches in each of the three directions.
The plane-being can represent two of these dimensions
on his plane; but the unknown direction he has to
represent by a repetition of his plane figures. The cube
extends three inches in the Y direction. He has to use
3 sets of slabs.
The Block is built up arbitrarily in this manner:
Starting from Urna Mala and going up, we come to a
Brown cube, and then to a Light-blue cube. Starting
from Urna Mala and going right, we come to an Orange
and a Fawn cube. Starting from Urna Mala and going
away from us, we come to a Blue and a Buff cube.
Now, the plane-being represents the Brown and Orange
cubes by squares lying next to the square which repre-
sents Urna Mala. The Blue cube is as close as the
Brown cube to Urna Mala, but he can find no place in
the plane where he can place a Blue square so as to
show this co-equal proximity of both cubes to the first.
So he is forced to put a Blue square anywhere in his
plane and say of it: “This Blue square represents what
I should arrive at, if I started from Urna Mala and
moved away, that is in the Y or unknown direction.”
Now, just as there are three cubes going up, so there
are three going away. Hence, besides the Blue square
placed anywhere on the plane, he must also place a Buff
square beyond it, to show that the Block extends as far
away as it does upwards and sideways. (Each cube
being a different colour, there will be as many different
colours of squares as of cubes.) It will easily be seen
that not only the Gold square, but also the Orange and
every other square in the first set of slabs must have two
other squares set somewhere beyond it on the plane to
represent the extension of the Block away, or in the
unknown Y direction.
Coming now to the representation of a four-dimen-
sional block, we see that we can show only three dimen-
sions by cubic blocks, and that the fourth can only be
represented by repetitions of such blocks. There must
be a certain amount of arbitrary naming and colouring.
The colours have been chosen as now stated. Take the
first Block of the 81 Set. We are familiar with its
colours, and they can be found at any time by reference
to Model 1. Now, suppose the Gold cube to represent
what we can see in our space of a Gold tessaract; the
other cubes of Block 1 give the colours of the tessaracts
which lie in the threc directions X, Y, and Z from the
Gold one. But what is the colour of the tessaract which
lies next to the Gold in the unknown direction, W?
Let us suppose it to be Stone in colour. Taking out
Block 2 of the 81 Set and arranging it on the pattern of
Model 9, we find in it a Stone cube. But, just as there are
three tessaracts in the X, Y, and Z directions, as shown
by the cubes in Block 1, so also must there be three
tessaracts in the unknown direction, W. Take Block 3
of the 81 Set. This Block can be arranged on the
pattern of Model 2. In it there is a Silver cube where
the Gold cube lies in Block 1. Hence, we may say, the
tessaract which comes next to the Stone one in the
unknown direction from the Gold, is of a Silver colour.
Now, a cube in all these cases represents a tessaract.
Between the Gold and Stone cubes there is an inch in
the unknown direction. The Gold tessaract is supposed
to be Gold throughout in all four directions, and so also
is the Stone. We may imagine it in this way. Suppose
the set of three tessaracts, the Gold, the Stone, and
the Silver to move through our space at the rate of an
inch a minute. We should first see the Gold cube
which would last a minute, then the Stone cube for a
minute, and lastly the Silver cube a minute. (This is
precisely analogous to the appearance of passing cubes
to the plane-being as successive squares lasting a
minute.) After that, nothing would be visible,
Now, just as we must suppose that there are three
tessaracts proceeding from the Gold cube in the un-
known direction, so there must be three tessaracts ex-
tending in the unknown direction from evcry one of the
27 cubes of the first Block. The Block of 27 cubes is
not a Block of 27 tessaracts, but it represents as much
of them as we can see at once in our space; and they
form the first portion or layer (like the first wall of
cubes to the plane-being) of a set of eighty-one tessa-
racts, extending to equal distances in all four directions.
Thus, to represent the whole Block of tessaracts there
are 81 cubes, or three Blocks of 27 each.
Now, it is obvious that, just as a cube has various
plane boundaries, so a tessaract has various cube bound-
aries. The cubes of the tessaract, which we have been
regarding, have been those containing the X, Y, and Z
directions, just as the plane-being regarded the Mœna
faces containing the X and Z directions. And, as long
as the tessaract is unchanged in its position with regard
to our space, we can never see any portion of it which
is in the unknown direction. Similarly, we saw that a
plane-being could not see the parts of a cube which went
in the third direction, until the cube was turned round
one of its edges. In order to make it quite clear what
parts of a cube came into the plane, we gave distinct
names to them. Thus, the squares containing the Z and
X directions were called Mœna and Murex; those con-
taining the Z and Y, Alvus and Proes; and those the
X and Y, Syce and Mel. Now, similarly with our four
axes, any three will determine a cube. Let the tessaract
in its normal position have the cube Mala determined by
the axes Z, X, Y. Let the cube Lar be that which is
determined by X, Y, W, that is, the cube which, starting
from the X Y plane, stretches one inch in the unknown
or W direction. Let Vesper be the cube determined by
Z, Y, W, and Pluvium by Z, X, W. And let these cubes
have opposite cubes of the following names:
Mala has Margo
Lar ,, Velum
Vesper ,, Idus
Pluvium ,, Tela
Another way of looking at the matter is this. When
a cube is generated from a square, each of the lines
bounding the square becomes a square, and the square
itself becomes a cube, giving two squares in its initial
and final positions. When a cube moves in the new
and unknown direction, each of its planes traces a cube
and it generates a tessaract, giving in its initial and
final positions two cubes. Thus there are eight cubes
bounding the tessaract, six of them from the six plane
sides and two from the cube itself. These latter two
are Mala and Margo. The cubes from the six sides are:
Lar from Syce, Velum from Mel, Vesper from Alvus,
Idus from Proes, Pluvium from Mœna, Tela from Murex.
And just as a plane-being can only see the squares of a
cube, so we can only see the cubes of a tessaract. It
may be said that the cube can be pushed partly through
the plane, so that the plane-being sees a section between
Mœna and Murex. Similarly, the tessaract can be
pushed through our space so that we can see a section
between Mala and Margo.
There is a method of approaching the matter, which
settles all difficulties, and provides us with a nomencla-
ture for every part of the tessaract. We have seen how
by writing down the names of the cubes of a block, and
then supposing that their number increases, certain sets
of the names come to denote points, lines, planes, and
solid. Similarly, if we write down a set of names of
tessaracts in a block, it will be found that, when their
number is increased, certain sets of the names come to
denote the various parts of a tessaract.
For this purpose, let us take the 81 Set, and use the
cubes to represent tessaracts. The whole of the 81
cubes make one single tessaractic set extending three
inches in each of the four directions. The names must
be remembered to denote tessaracts. Thus, Corvus is a
tessaract which has the tessaracts Cuspis and Nugæ to
the right, Arctos and Ilex above it, Dos and Cista away
from it, and Ops and Spira in the fourth or unknown
direction from it. It will be evident at once, that to
write these names in any representative order we must
adopt an arbitrary system. We require them running
in four directions; we have only two on paper. The X
direction (from left to right) and the Y (from the bottom
towards the top of the page) will be assumed to be truly
represented. The Z direction will be symbolized by
writing the names in floors, the upper floors always
preceding the lower. Lastly, the fourth, or W, direction
(which has to be symbolized in three-dimensional space
by setting the solids in an arbitrary position) will be
signified by writing the names in blocks, the name which
stands in any one place in any block being next in the
W direction to that which occupies the same position in
the block before or after it. Thus, Ops is written in the
same place in the Second Block, Spira in the Third
Block, as Corvus occupies in the First Block.
Since there are an equal number of tessaracts in each
of the four directions, there will be three floors Z when
there are three X and Y. Also, there will be three
Blocks W. If there be four tessaracts in each direction,
there will be four floors Z, and four blocks W. Thus,
when the number in each direction is enlarged, the
number of blocks W is equal to the number of tessaracts
in each known direction.
On pp. 136, 137 were given the names as used for a
cubic block of 27 or 64. Using the same and more
names for a tessaractic Set, and remembering that each
name now represents, not a cube, but a tessaract, we
obtain the following nomenclature, the order in which
the names are written being that stated above:
THIRD BLOCK.
{
Solia Livor Talus
Upper
Lensa Lares Calor
Floor.
Felis Tholus Passer
——————————
{
Lixa Portica Vena
Middle
Crux Margo Sal
Floor.
Pagus Silex Onager
——————————
{
Panax Mensura Mugil
Lower
Opex Lappa Mappa
Floor
Spira Luca Ancila
SECOND BLOCK.
{
Orsa Mango Libera
Upper
Creta Velum Meatus
Floor.
Lucta Limbus Pator
——————————
{
Camœna Tela Orca
Middle
Vesper Tesseract Idus
Floor.
Pagina Pluvium Pactum
——————————
{
Lis Lorica Offex
Lower
Lua Lar Olla
Floor
Ops Lotus Limus
FIRST BLOCK.
{
Olus Semita Lama
Upper
Via Mel Iter
Floor.
Ilex Callis Sors
——————————
{
Bucina Murex Daps
Middle
Alvus Mala Proes
Floor.
Arctos Mœna Far
——————————
{
Cista Cadus Crus
Lower
Dos Syce Bolus
Floor
Corvus Cuspis Nugæ
It is evident that this set of tessaracts could be
increased to the number of four in each direction,
the names being used as before for the cubic blocks
on pp. 136, 137, and in that case the Second Block
would be duplicated to make the four blocks required
in the unknown direction. Comparing such an 81 Set
and 256 Set, we should find that Cuspis, which was
a single tessaract in the 81 Set became two tessaracts
in the 256 Set. And, if we introduced a larger number,
it would simply become longer, and not increase in
any other dimension. Thus, Cuspis would become the
name of an edge. Similarly, Dos would become the
name of an edge, and also Arctos. Ops, which is found
in the Middle Block of the 81 Set, occurs both in the
Second and Third Blocks of the 256 Set; that is, it also
tends to elongate and not extend in any other direction,
and may therefore be used as the name of an edge of
a tessaract.
Looking at the cubes which represent the Syce tessar-
acts, we find that, though they increase in number, they
increase only in two directions; therefore, Syce may be
taken to signify a square. But, looking at what comes
from Syce in the W direction, we find in the Middle
Block of the 81 Set one Lar, and in the Second and
Third Blocks of the 256 Set four Lars each. Hence, Lar
extends in three directions, X, Y, W, and becomes a cube.
Similarly, Mœna is a plane; but Pluvium, which proceeds
from it, extends not only sideways and upwards like
Mœna, but in the unknown direction also. It occurs
in both Middle Blocks of the 256 Set. Hence, it also
is a cube. We have now considered such parts of the
Sets as contain one, two, and three dimensions. But
there is one part which contains four. It is that named
Tessaract. In the 256 Set there are eight such cubes in
the Second, and eight in the Third Block; that is, they
extend Z, X, U, and also W. They may, therefore, be
considered to represent that part of a tessaract or
tessaractic Set, which is analogous to the interior of a
cube.
The arrangement of colours corresponding to these
names is seen on Model 1 corresponding to Mala, Model
2 to Margo, and Model 9 to the intermediate block.
When we take the view of the tessaract with which
we commenced, and in which Arctos goes Z, Cuspis X,
Dos Y, and Ops W, we see Mala in our space. But
when the tessaract is turned so that the Ops line goes
–X, while Cuspis is turned W, the other two remaining
as they were, then we do not see Mala, but that cube
which, in the original position of the tessaract, contains
the Z, Y, W, directions, that is, the Vesper cube.
A plane-being may begin to study a block of cubes
by their Syce squares; but if the block be turned round
Dos, he will have Alvus squares in his space, and he
must then use them to represent the cubic Block. So,
when the tessaractic Set is turned round, Mala cubes
leave our space, and Vespers enter.
There are two ways which can be followed in studying
the Set of tessaracts.
I. Each tessaract of one inch every way can be
supposed to be of the same colour throughout, so that,
whichever way it be turned, whichever of its edges
coincide with our known axes, it appears to us as a cube
of one uniform colour. Thus, if Urna be the tessaract,
Urna Mala would be a Gold cube, Urna Vesper a Gold
cube, and so on. This method is, for the most part,
adopted in the following pages. In this case, a whole
Set of 4 × 4 × 4 × 4 tessaracts would in colours resemble
a set composed of four cubes like Models 1, 9, 9, and 2.
But, when any question about a particular tessaract has
to be settled, it is advantageous, for the sake of distinct-
ness, to suppose it coloured in its different regions as
the whole set is coloured.
II. The other plan is, to start with the cubic sides
of the inch tessaract, each coloured according to the
scheme of the Models 1 to 8. In this case, the lines, if
shown at all, should be very thin. For, in fact, only
the faces would be seen, as the width of the lines would
only be equal to the thickness of our matter in the
fourth dimension, which is indistinguishable to the
senses. If such completely coloured cubes be used, less
error is likely to creep in; but it is a disadvantage that
each cube in the several blocks is exactly like the others
in that block. If the reader make such a set to work
with for a time, he will gain greatly, for the real way of
acquiring a sense of higher space is to obtain those
experiences of the senses exactly, which the observation
of a four-dimensional body would give. These Models
1–8 are called sides of the tessaract.
To make the matter perfectly clear, it is best to sup-
pose that any tessaract or set of tessaracts which we
examine, has a duplicate exactly similar in shape and
arrangement of parts, but different in their colouring.
In the first, let each tessaract have one colour through-
out, so that all its cubes, apprehended in turn in our
space, will be of one and the same colour. In the
duplicate, let each tessaract be so coloured as to show
its different cubic sides by their different colours.
Then, when we have it turned to us in different aspects,
we shall see different cubes, and when we try to trace
the contacts of the tessaracts with each other, we shall
be helped by realizing each part of every tessaract in
its own colour.
CHAPTER VIII.
REPRESENTATION OF FOUR-SPACE BY NAME.
STUDY OF TESSERACTS.
WE have now surveyed all the preliminary ground, and

can study the masses of tesseracts without obscurity.
We require a scaffold or framework for this purpose,
which in three dimensions will consist of eight cubic
spaces or octants assembled round one point, as in two
dimensions it consisted of four squares or quadrants
round a point.
These eight octants lie between the three axes Z, X,
Y, which intersect at the given point, and can be named
according to their positions between the positive and
negative directions of those axes. Thus the octant
Z, X, Y, is that which is contained by the positive por-
tions of all three axes ; the octant Z, X̄, Y, that which
is to the left of Z, X, Y, and between the positive parts
of Z and Y and the negative of X. To illustrate this
quite clearly, let us take the eight cubes—Urna, Moles,
Plebs, Frenum, Uncus, Pallor, Bidens, Ostrum—and
place them in the eight octants. Let them be placed
round the point of intersection of the axes; Pallor
Corvus, Plebs Ilex, etc., will be at that point. Their
positions will then be:—
Urna in the Octant Z̄ X̄ Ȳ
Moles ,, ,, Z̄ X Ȳ
Plebs ,, ,, Z̄ X Y
Frenum ,, ,, Z̄ X̄ Y
Uncus ,, ,, Z X̄ Y
Pallor ,, ,, Z X Ȳ
Bidens ,, ,, Z X̄ Ȳ
Ostrum ,, ,, ZXY
167
The names used for the cubes, as they are before us,
are as follows :-
THIRD BLOCK.
{
Arcus Mala Ovis Mala Portio Mala
Third
Laurus Mala Tigris Mala Segmen Mala
Floor.
Axis Mala Troja Mala Aries Mala
{
Postis Mala Clipeus Mala Tabula Mala
Second
Orcus Mala Lacerta Mala Testudo Mala
Floor.
Verbum Mala Luctus Mala Anguis Mala
{
Telum Mala Nepos Mala Angusta Mala
First
Polus Mala Penates Mala Vulcan Mala
Floor
Cervis Mala Securis Mala Vinculum Mala
SECOND BLOCK.
{
Ara Mala Vomer Mala Pluma Mala
Third
Præda Mala Sacerdos Mala Hydra Mala
Floor.
Cortex Mala Mica Mala Flagellum Mala
{
Pilum Mala Glans Mala Colus Mala
Second
Ocrea Mala Tessera Mala Domitor Mala
Floor.
Cardo Mala Cudo Mala Malleus Mala
{
Agman Mala Lacus Mala Arvus Mala
First
Crates Mala Cura Mala Limen Mala
Floor
Thyrsus Mala Vitta Mala Sceptrum Mala
FIRST BLOCK.
{
Mars Mala Merces Mala Tyro Mala
Third
Spicula Mala Mora Mala Oliva Mala
Floor.
Comes Mala Tibicen Mala Vestis Mala
{
Ala Mala Cortis Mala Aer Mala
Second
Uncus Mala Pallor Mala Tergum Mala
Floor.
Ostrum Mala Bidens Mala Scena Mala
{
Sector Mala Hama Mala Remus Mala
First
Frenum Mala Plebs Mala Sypho Mala
Floor
Urna Mala Moles Mala Saltus Mala
Representation of Four-Space by Name. 169
Their colours can be found by reference to the
Models 1, 9, 2, which correspond respectively to the
First, Second, and Third Blocks. Thus, Urna Mala is
Gold; Moles, Orange; Saltus, Fawn; Thyrsus, Stone;
Cervix, Silver. The cubes whose colours are not shown
in the Models, are Pallor Mala, Tessera Mala, and
Lacerta Mala, which are equivalent to the interiors
of the Model cubes, and are respectively Light-buff,
Wooden, and Sage-green. These 81 cubes are the cubic
sides and sections of the tessaracts of an 81 tessaractic
Set, which measures three inches in every direction.
We suppose it to pass through our space. Let us call
the positive unknown direction Ana (i.e., +W) and the
negative unknown direction Kata (–W). Then, as the
whole tessaract moves Kata at the rate of an inch a
minute, we see first the First Block of 27 cubes for one
minute, then the Second, and lastly the Third, each
lasting one minute.
Now, when the First Block stands in the normal
position, the edges of the tessaract that run from the
Corvus corner of Urna Mala, are: Arctos in Z, Cuspis
in X, Dos in Y, Ops in W. Hence, we denote this
position by the following symbol:—
Z X Y W
a c d o
where a stands for Arctos, c for Cuspis, d for Dos,
and o for Ops, and the other letters for the four axes in
space. a, c, d, o are the axes of the tessaract, and cantake
up different directions in space with regard to us.
—————
Let us now take a smaller four-dimensional set. Of
the 81 Set let us take the following :-
Z X Y W
a c d o
SECOND BLOCK.
Second Floor. { Ocrea Mala

Cardo Mala
Tessera Mala
Cudo Mala
First Floor { Crates Mala

Thyrsus Mala
Cura Mala
Vitta Mala
FIRST BLOCK.
Second Floor. { Uncus Mala

Ostrum Mala
Pallor Mala
Bidens Mala
First Floor { Frenum Mala

Urna Mala
Plebs Mala
Moles Mala
Let the First Block be put up before us in Z X Y,

(Urna Corvus is at the junction of our axes Z X Y).
The Second Block is now one inch distant in the un-
known direction; and, if we suppose the tessaractic
Set to move through our space at the rate of one
inch a minute, the Second will enter in one minute, and
replace the first. But, instead of this, let us suppose
the tessaracts to turn so that Ops, which now goes W,
shall go –X. Then we can see in our space that cubic
side of each tessaract which is contained by the lines
Arctos, Dos, and Ops, the cube Vesper; and we shall
no longer have the Mala sides but the Vesper sides of
the tessaractic Set in our space. We will now build
it up in its Vesper view (as we built up the cubic Block
in its Alvus view). Take the Gold cube, which now
means Urna Vesper, and place it on the left hand of its
former position as Urna Mala, that is, in the octant
Z X̄ Y. Thyrsus Vesper, which previously lay just
beyond Urna Vesper in the unknown direction, will
now lie just beyond it in the –X direction, that is,
to the left of it. The tessaractic Set is now in the
Z X YW
position (the minus sign over the o meaning
a ō d c
Ocrea Uncus Uncus Pallor
Vespers Malas
Cardo Ostrum Ostrum Bidens
Thyrsus Urna Urna Moles
Fig.20
that Ops runs in the negative direction), and its Vespers
lie in the following order:—
SECOND BLOCK.
Second Floor. { Tessara

Cudo
Pallor
Bidens
First Floor { Cura

Vitta
Plebs
Moles
FIRST BLOCK.
Second Floor. { Ocrea

Cardo
Uncus
Ostrum
First Floor { Crates

Thrysus
Frenum
Urna
The name Vesper is left out in the above list for the
sake of brevity, but should be used in studying the
positions.
On comparing the two lists of the Mala view and
Vesper view, it will be seen that the cubes presented in
the Vesper view are new sides of the tessaract, and that
the arrangement of them is different from that in the
Mala view. (This is analogous to the changes in the
slabs from the Moena to Alvus view of the cubic Block.)
Of course, the Vespers of all these tessaracts are not
visible at once in our space, any more than are the
Mœnas of all three walls of a cubic Block to a plane-
being. But if the tessaractic Set be supposed to move
through space in the unknown direction at the rate
of an inch a minute, the Second Block will present
its Vespers after the First Block has lasted a minute.
The relative position of the Mala Block and the Vesper
Block may be represented in our space as in the dia-
gram, Fig. 20. But it must be distinctly remembered
that this arrangement is quite conventional, no more
real than a plane-being’s symbolization of the Mœna
Wall and the Alvus Wall of the cubic Block by the
arrangement of their Mœna and Alvus faces, with the
solidity omitted, along one of his known directions.
The Vespers of the First and Second Blocks cannot
be in our space simultaneously, any more than the
Mœnas of all three walls in plane space. To render
their simultaneous presence possible, the cubic or
tessaractic Block or Set must be broken up, and its
parts no longer retain their relations. This fact is of
supreme importance in considering higher space. End-
less fallacies creep in as soon as it is forgotten that the
cubes are merely representative as the slabs were, and
the positions in our space merely conventional and
symbolical, like those of the slabs along the plane.
And these fallacies are so much fostered by again sym-
bolizing the cubic symbols and their symbolical positions
in perspective drawings or diagrams, that the reader
should surrender all hope of learning space from this
book or the drawings alone, and work every thought
out with the cubes themselves.
If we want to see what each individual cube of the
tessaractic faces presented to us in the last example is
like, we have only to consider each of the Malas similar
in its parts to Model 1, and each of the Vespers to
Model 5. And it must always be remembered that the
cubes, though used to represent both Mala and Vesper
faces of the tessaract, mean as great a difference as the
slabs used for the Moena and Alvus faces of the cube.
If the tessaractic Set move Kata through our space,
when the Vesper faces are presented to us, we see the
following parts of the tessaract Urna (and, therefore,
also the same parts of the other tessaracts):
(1) Urna Vesper, which is Model 5.
(2) A parallel section between Urna Vesper and Urna
Idus, which is Model 11.
(3) Urna Idus, which is Model 6.
When Urna Idus has passed Kata our space, Moles
Vesper enters it; then a section between Moles Vesper
and Moles Idus, and then Moles Idus. Here we have
evidently observed the tessaract more minutely; as it
passes Kata through our space, starting on its Vesper
side, we have seen the parts which would be generated
by Vesper moving along Cuspis—that is Ana.
Two other arrangements of the tessaracts have to be
learnt besides those from the Mala and Vesper aspect.
One of them is the Pluvium aspect. Build up the Set
in Z X Ȳ letting Arctos run Z, Cuspis X, and Ops Ȳ.
In the common plane Mœna, Urna Pluvium coincides
with Urna Mala, though they cannot be in our space
together; so too Moles Pluvium with Moles Mala,
Ostrum Pluvium with Ostrum Mala. And lying towards
us, or Ȳ, is now that tessaract which before lay in the
W direction from Urna, viz., Thyrsus. The order will
therefore be the following (a star denotes the cube
whose corner is at point of intersection of the axes, and
the name Pluvium must be understood to follow each
of the names) :
Z X Y W
a c ō d
SECOND BLOCK.
Second Floor. { Uncus

Ocrea
Pallor
Tessera
First Floor { Frenum

Crates
Plebs
Cura
FIRST BLOCK.
Second Floor. { Ostrum

Cardo
Bidens
Cuduo
First Floor { *Urna

Thyrsus
Moles
Vitta
Thus the wall of cubes in contact with that wall of the
Mala position which contains the Urna, Moles, Ostrum,
and Bidens Malas, is a wall composed of the Pluviums of
Urna, Moles, Ostrum, and Bidens. The wall next to
this, and nearer to us: is of Thyrsus, Vitta, Cardo, Cudo,
Pluviums. The Second Block is one inch out of our
Space, and only enters it if the Block moves Kata.
Model 7 shows the Pluvium cube; and each of the cubes
of the tessaracts seen in the Pluvium position is a Pluv-
ium. If the tessaractic Set moved Kata, we would see
the Section between Pluvium and Tela for all but a
minute; and then Tela would enter our space, and the
Tela of each tessaract would be seen. Model 12 shows
the Section from Pluvium to Tela. Model 8 is Tela.
Tela only lasts for a flash, as it has only the minutest
magnitude in the unknown or Ana direction. Then,
Frenum Pluvium takes the place of Urna Tela; and,
when it passes through, we see a similar section between
Frenum Pluvium and Frenum Tela, and lastly Frenum
Tela. Then the tessaractic Set passes out, or Kata, our
space. A similar process takes place with every other
tessaract, when the Set of tessaracts moves through our
space.
There is still one more arrangement to be learnt. If
the line of the tessaract, which in the Mala position goes
Ana, or W, be changed into the Z or downwards direc-
tion, the tessaract will then appear in our space below the
Mala position; and the side presented to us will not be
Mala, but that which contains the lines Dos, Cuspis, and
Ops. This side is Model 3, and is called Lar. Under-
neath the place which was occupied by Urna Mala, will
come Urna Lar ; under the place of Moles Mala, Moles
Lar; under the place of Frenum Mala, Frenum Lar.
The tessaract, which in the Mala position was an inch
out of our space Ana, or W, from Urna Mala, will now
come into it an inch downwards, or Z, below Urna
Mala, with its Lar presented to us; that is, Thyrsus
Lar will be below Urna Lar. In the whole arrange-
ment of them written below, the highest floors are
written first, for now they stretch downwards instead of
upwards. The name Lar is understood after each.
Z X Y W
ō c d a
SECOND BLOCK.
Second Floor. { Uncus

Ostrum
Pallor
Bidens
First Floor { Ocrea

Cardo
Tessera
Cudo
FIRST BLOCK.
Second Floor. { *Urna

Frenum Plebs
Moles
First Floor { *Crates

Thyrsus
Cura
Vitta
Here it is evident that what was the lower floor of

Malas, Urna, Moles, Plebs, Frenum, now appears as if
carried downwards instead of upwards, Lars being pre-
sented in our space instead of Malas. This Block of
Lars is what we see of the tessaract Set when the
Arctos line, which in the Mala position goes up, is
turned into the Ana, or W, direction, and the Ops line
comes in downwards.
The rest of the tessaracts, which consists of the cubes
opposite to the four treated above, and of the tessaractic
space between them, is all Ana our space. If the tessar-
act be moved through our space—for instance, when the
Lars are present in it—we see, taking Urna alone, first
the section between Urna Lar and Urna Velum (Model
10), and then Urna Velum (Model 4), and similarly the
sections and Velums of each tessaract in the Set. When
the First Block has passed Kata our space, Ostrum
Lar enters; and the Lars of the Second Block of tessa-
racts occupy the places just vacated by the Velums of
the First Block. Then, as the tessaractic Set moves
on Kata, the sections between Velums and Lars of the
Second Block of tessaracts enter our space, and finally
their Velums. Then the whole tessaractic Set disappears
from our space.
When we have learnt all these aspects and passages,
we have experienced some of the principal features of
this small Set of tessaracts.
CHAPTER IX.
FURTHER STUDY OF TESSERACTS.
WHEN the arrangement of a small set has been

mastered, the different views of the whole 81 Set should
be learnt. It is now clear to us that, in the list of the
names of the eighty-one tessaracts given above, those
which lie in the W direction appelr in different blocks,
while those that lie in the Z, X, or Y directions can be
found in the same block. Therefore, from the arrange-
Z X Y W
ment given, which is denoted by , or more
a c d o
briefly by a c d o, we can form any other arrangement.
To confirm the meaning of the symbol a c d o for
position, let us remember that the order of the axes
known in our space will invariably be Z X Y, and the
unknown direction will be stated last, thus: Z X Y W.
Hence, if we write a ō d c, we know that the position or
aspect intended is that in which Arctos (a) goes Z, Ops
(ō) negative X, Dos (d) Y, and Cuspis (c) W. And such
an arrangement can be made by shifting the nine cubes
on the left side of the First Block of the eighty-one tes-
saracts, and putting them into the Z X̄ Y octant, so that
they just touch their former position. Next to them, to
their left, we set the nine of the left side of the Second
Block of the 81 Set; and next to these again, on their
left, the nine of the left side of the Third Block. This
Block of twenty-seven now represents Vesper Cubes,
which have only one square identical with the Mala
177
cubes of the previous blocks, from which they were
taken.
Similarly the Block which is one inch Ana, can be
made by taking the nine cubes which come vertically
in the middle of each of the Blocks in the first position,
and arranging them in a similar manner. Lastly, the
Block which lies two inches Ana, can be made by taking
the right sides of nine cubes each from each of the three
original Blocks, and arranging them so that those in the
Second original Block go to the left of those in the First,
and those in the Third to their left. In this manner we
should obtain three new Blocks, which represent what
we can see of the tessaracts, when the direction in which
Urna, Moles, Saltus lie in the original Set, is turned W.
The Pluvium Block we can make by taking the front
wall of each original Block, and setting each an inch
nearer to us, that is –Y. The far sides of these cubes
are Mœnas of Pluviums. By continuing this treatment
of the other walls of the three original Blocks parallel to
the front wall, we obtain two other Blocks of tessaracts.
The three together are the tessaractic position a c ō d, for
in all of them Ops lies in the -Y direction, and Dos
has been turned W.
The Lar position is more difficult to construct. To
put the Lars of the Blocks in their natural position in
our space, we must start with the original Mala Blocks,
at least three inches above the table. The First Lar
Block is made by taking the lowest floors of the three
Mala Blocks, and placing them so that that of the
Second is below that of the First, and that of the Third
below that of the Second. The floor of cubes whose
diagonal runs from Urna Lar to Remus Lar, will be at
the top of the Block of Lars; and that whose diagonal
goes from Cervix Lar to Angusta Lar, will be at the
bottom. The next Block of Lars will be made by
Further Study of Tesseracts. 179
taking the middle horizontal floors of the three original
Blocks, and placing them in a similar succession—the
floor from Ostrum Lar to Aer Lar being at the top, that
from Cardo Lar to Colus Lar in the middle, and Verbum
Lar to Tabula Lar at the bottom. The Third Lar
Block is composed of the top floor of the First Block on
the top—that is, of Comes Lar to Tyro Lar, of Cortex
Lar to Pluma Lar in the middle, and Axis Lar to Portio
Lar at the bottom.
CHAPTER X.
CYCLICAL PROCTIONS.
LET us denote the original position of the cube, that

wherein Arctos goes Z, Cuspis X, and Dos Y, by the
expression,
Z X Y
a c d (1)
If the cube be turned round Cuspis, Dos goes Z,
Cuspis remains unchanged, and Arctos goes Y, and we
have the position,
Z X Y
d c a
Z
where means that Dos runs in the negative direction
d
of the Z axis from the point where the axes intersect.
Z̄ Z
We might write d but it is preferable to write .
d
If we next turn the cube round the line, which runs
Y, that is, round Arctos, we obtain the position,
Z X Y
c d a (2)
and b; means of this double turn we have put c and d
in the places of a and c. Moreover, we have no nega-
tive directions. This position we call simply c d a.
If from it we turn the cube round a, which runs Y,
Z X Y
we get and if, then, we turn it round Dos we get
d c a
Z X Y
or simply d a c. This last is another position in
d a c
180
Cyclical Projections. 181
which all the lines are positive, and the projections, in-
stead of lying in different quadrants, will be contained
in one.
The arrangement of cubes in a c d we know. That
in c d a is:
{
Vestis Oliva Tyro
Third
Scena Tergum Aer
Floor.
Saltus Sypho Remus
{
Tibicen Mora Merces
Second
Bidens Pallor Cortis
Floor.
Moles Plebs Hama
{
Comes Spicula Mars
First
Ostrum Uncus Ala
Floor
Urna Frenum Sector
It will be found that learning the cubes in this position

gives a great advantage, for thereby the axes of the cube
become dissociated with particular directions in space.
The d a c position gives the following arrangement :
Remus Aer Tyro
Hama Cortis Merces
Sector Ala Mars
Sypho Tergum Oliva
Plebs Pallor Mora
Frenum Uncus Spicula
Saltus Scena Vestis

Moles Bidens Tibicen
Urna Ostrum Comes
The sides, which touch the vertical plane in the first

position, are respectively, in a c d Mœna, in c d a Syce,
in d a c Alvus.
Take the shape Urna, Ostrum, Moles, Saltus, Scena,
Sypho, Remus, Aer, Tyro. This gives in a c d the
projection: Urna Mœna, Ostrum Mœna, Moles Mœna,
Saltus Mœna, Scena Mœna, Vestis Mœna. (If the
different positions of the cube are not well known, it is
best to have a list of the names before one, but in every
case the block should also be built, as well as the names
used.) The same shape in the position c d a is, of course,
expressed in the same words, but it has a different ap-
pearance. The front face consists of the Syces of
Saltus Sypho Remus
Moles Plebs Hama
Urna Frenum Sector
And taking the shape we find we have Urna, and we

know that Ostrum lies behind Urna, and does not come
in; next we have Moles, Saltus, and we know that
Scena lies behind Saltus and does not come in; lastly,
we have Sypho and Remus, and we know that Aer and
Tyro are in the Y direction from Remus, and so do not
come in. Hence, altogether the projection will consist
only of the Syces of Urna, Moles, Saltus, Sypho, and
Remus.
Next, taking the position d a c, the cubes in the front
face have their Alvus sides against the plane, and are:
Sector Ala Mars
Frenum Uncus Spicula
Urna Ostrum Comes
And, taking the shape, we find Urna, Ostrum; Moles

and Saltus are hidden by Urna, Scena is behind Ostrum,
Sypho gives Frenurn, Remus gives Sector, Aer gives Ala,
and Tyro gives Mars. All these are Alvus sides.
Let us now take the reverse problem, and, given the
three cyclical projections, determine the shape. Let
the a c d projection be the Mœnas of Urna, Ostrum,
Bidens, Scena, Vestis. Let the c d a be the Syces of
Urna, Frenum, Plebs, Sypho, and the d a c be the Alvus
of Urna, Frenum, Uncus, Spicula. Now, from a c d we
Cyclical Projections. 183
have Urna, Frenum, Sector, Ostrum, Uncus, Ala, Bidens,
Pallor, Cortis, Scena, Tergum, Aer, Vestis, Oliva, Tyro.
From c d a we have Urna, Ostrum, Comes, Frenum,
Uncus, Spicula, Plebs, Pallor, Mora, Sypho, Tergum,
Oliva. In order to see how these will modify each
other, let us consider the a c d solution as if it were a
set of cubes in the c d a arrangement. Here, those that
go in the Arctos direction, go away from the plane of
projection, and must be represented by the Syce of the
cube in contact with the plane. Looking at the a c d
solution we write down (keeping those together which go
away from the plane of projection): Urna and Ostrum,
Frenum and Uncus, Sector and Ala, Hidens, Pallor,
Cortis, Scena and Vestis, Tergum and Oliva, Aer and
Tyro. Here we see that the whole c d a face is filled up
in the projection, as far as this solution is concerned.
But in the c d a solution we have only Syces of Urna,
Frenum, Plebs, Sypho. These Syces only indicate the
presence of a certain number of the cubes stated above
as possible from the Mœna projection, and those are
Urna, Ostrum, Frenum, Uncus, Pallor, Tergum, Oliva.
This is the result of a comparison of the Mœna pro-
jection with the Syce projection. Now, writing these
last named as they come in the d a c projection, we
have Urna, Ostrum, Frenum, Uncus and Pallor and
Tergum, Oliva. And of these Ostrum Alvus is wanting
in the d a c projection as given above. Hence Ostrum
will be wanting in the final shape, and we have as the
final solution: Urna, Frenum, Uncus, Pallor, Tergum,
Oliva.
CHAPTER XI.
A TESSERACTIC FIGURE AND ITS PROJECTIONS.
WE will now consider a fourth-dimensional shape com-

posed of tesseracts, and the manner in which we can
obtain a conception of it. The operation is precisely
analogous to that described in chapter VI., by which a
plane being could obtain a conception of solid shapes.
It is only a little more difficult in that we have to deal
with one dimension or direction more, and can only do
so symbolically.
We will assume the shape to consist of a certain
number of the 81 tessaracts, whose names we have
given on p. 168. Let it consist of the thirteen tessaracts:
Urna, Moles, Plebs, Frenum, Pallor, Tessera, Cudo, Vitta,
Cura, Penates, Polus, Orcus, Lacerta.
Firstly, we will consider what appearances or projec-
tions these tessaracts will present to us according as the
tessaractic set touches our space with its (a) Mala cubes,
(b) Vesper cubes, (c) Pluvium cubes, or (d) Lar cubes.
Secondly, we will treat the converse question, how the
shape can be determined when the projections in each
of those views are given.
Let us build up in cubes the four different arrange-
ments of the tessaracts according as they enter our space
on their Mala, Vesper, Pluvium or Lar sides. They can
only be printed by symbolizing two of the directions.
In the following tabulations the directions Y, X will at
184
A Tessaractic Figure and its Projections. 185
once be understood. The direction Z (expressed by the
wavy line) indicates that the floors of nine, each printed
nearer the top of the page, lie above those printed nearer
the bottom of it. The direction W is indicated by the
dotted line, which shows that the floors of nine lying to
the left or right are in the W direction (Ana) or the –W
direction (Kata) from those which lie to the right or
left. For instance, in the arrangement of the tessaracts,
as Malas (Table A) the tessaract Tessara, which is exactly
in the middle of the eighty-one tessaracts has
Domitor on its right side or in the X direction.

Ocrea on its left ,, ,, –X ,,
Glans away from us ,, ,, Y ,,
Cudo nearer to us ,, ,, –Y ,,
Sacerdso above it ,, ,, Z ,,
Cura below it ,, ,, –Z ,,
Lacerta in the Ana or W ,,
Pallor in the Kata or –W ,,
Similarly Cervix lies in the Ana or W direction from

Urna, with Thyrsus between them. And to take one
more instance, a journey from Saltus to Arcus would
be made by travelling Y to Remus, thence –X to Sector,
thence Z to Mars, and finally W to Arcus. A line from
Saltus to Arcus is therefore a diagonal of the set of
81 tessaracts, because the full length of its side has
been traversed in each of the four directions to reach
one from the other, i.e. Saltus to Remus, Remus to
Sector, Sector to Mars, Mars to Arcus.
The relation between the four different arrangements
shown in the tables A, B, C, and D, will be understood
from what has been said in chapter VIII. about a small
set of sixteen tessaracts. A glance at the lines, which
indicate the directions in each, will show the changes
TABLE A
Mala presentation of 81 Tesseracts.
Z W –W
Y Y Y
Arcus Ovis Portio Ara Vomer Pluma Mars Merces Tyro
Laurus Tigris Segmen Præda Sacerdos Hydra Spicula Mora Oliva
Axis Troja Aries Cortex Mica Flagellum Comes Tibicen Vestis
X X X
Y Y Y
186
Postis Clipeus Tabula Pilum Glans Colus Ala Cortis Aer
Orcus Lacerta Testudo Ocrea Tessera Domitor Uncus‡ Pallos‡ Tergum
Verbum Luctus Anguis Cardo Cudo Malleus Ostrum Bidens‡ Scena
X X X
Y Y Y
Telum Nepos Angusta Agmen Lacus Arvus Sector Hama Remus
Polus Penates Vulcan Crates Cura Limen Frenum‡ Plebs‡ Sypho
Cervis Securis Vinculum Thyrsus Vitta Sceptrum Urna‡ Moles‡ Saltus
–Z X X X
TABLE B
Mala presentation of 81 Tesseracts.
Z W –W
Y Y Y
Portio Pluma Tyro Ovis Vomer Merces Arcus Ara Mars
Segmen Hydra Oliva Tigris Sacerdos Mora Laurus Præda Spicula
Aries Flegellum Vestis Troja Mica Tibicen Axis Cortex Comes
–X –X –X
Y Y Y
187
Tablus Colus Aer Clipeas Glans Coris Postis Pium Ala
Testudo Domitor Tegrum Lacrerta* Tessara* Pallor* Orcus* Ocrea* Uncus*
Anguis Malleus Scena Luctus* Cudo* Bidens* Verbum† Cardo† Ostrum†
–X –X –X
Y Y Y
Angusta Arvus Remus Nepos Lacus Hama Telum Agmen Sector
Vulcan Limen Sypho Penates* Cura* Plebs* Polus* Crates* Frenum*
Vinculum Sceptrum Saltus Securis* Vitta* Moles* Cervis* Thyrsus* Urna*
–X –X –X
–Z
TABLE C
Pluvium presentation of 81 Tesseracts.
Z W –W
X X X
Mars Merces Tyro Spicula Mora Oliva Comes Tibicen Vestis
Ara Vomer Pluma Præda Sacerdos Hydra Cortex Mica Flagellum
Arcus Ovis Portio Laurus Tigris Segmen Axis Troja Aries
–Y –Y –Y
X X X
188
Ala Cortis Aer Uncus* Pallor* Tergum Ostrum† Bidens† Scena
Pilum Glans Colus Ocrea* Tessera* Domitor Cardo† Cudo* Malleus
Postis Clipeus Tabula Orcus* Lacerta* Testudo Verubm† Luctus† Anguis
–Y –Y –Y
X X X
Sector Hama Remus Frenum* Plebs* Sypho Urna* Moles* Saltus
Agmen Lacus Arvus Crates* Cura* Limen Thyrsus* Vitta* Sceptrum
Telum Nepos Angusta Polus* Penates* Vulcan Cervis† Securis† Vinculum
–Z–Y –Y –Y
TABLE D
Lar presentation of 81 Tesseracts.
Z W –W
Y Y Y
Mars Merces Tyro Ala Cortis Aer Sector Hama Remus
Spicula Mora Oliva Uncus Pallor* Tergum Frenum* Plebs* Sypho
Comes Tibicen Vestis Ostrum Bidens Scena Urna* Moles* Saltus
X X X
Y Y Y
189
Ara Vomer Pluma Plium Glans Colus Agmen Laurus Arvus
Præda Sacerdos Hydra Ocrea Tessera* Domitor Crates Cura* Limen
Cortex Mica Flagellum Cardo Cudo* Malleus Thyrsus Vitta* Sceptrum
X X X
Y Y Y
Arcus Ovis Portio Postis Clipeus Tabula Telum Nepos Angusta
Laura Tigris Segmen Orcus* Lacerta* Testudo Polus* Penates* Vulcan
Axis Troja Aries Verbum Luctus Anguis Cervix Securis Vinculum
–Z X X X
effected by turning the tessaracts from the Mala presen-
tation.
In the Vesper presentation :

The tessaracts—
(e.g. Urna, Ostrum, Comes), which ran Z still run Z.
(e.g. Urna, Frenum, Sector), ,, Y ,, Y.
(e.g. Urna, Moles, Saltus), ,, X now run W.
(e.g. Urna, Thyrsus, Cervix), ,, W ,, –X.
In the Pluvium presentation :

The tessaracts—
(e.g. Urna, Ostrum, Comes), which ran Z still run Z.
(e.g. Urna, Moles, Saltus), ,, X ,, X.
(e.g. Urna, Frenum, Sector), ,, Y now run W.
(e.g. Urna, Thyrsus, Cervix), ,, W ,, –Y.
In the Lar presentation:

The tessaracts—
(e.g. Urna, Moles, Saltus), which ran X still run X.
(e.g. Urna, Frenum, Sector), ,, Y ,, Y.
(e.g. Urna, Ostrum, Comes), ,, Z now run W.
(e.g. Urna, Thyrsus, Cervix), ,, W ,, - Z.
This relation was already treated in chapter IX., but

it is well to have it very clear for our present purpose.
For it is the apparent change of the relative position
of the tessaracts in each presentation, which enables us
to determine any body of them.
In considering the projections, we always suppose our-
selves to be situated Ana or W towards the tessaracts,
and any movement to be Kata or –W through our
space. For instance, in the Mala presentation we have
first in our space the Malas of that block of tessaracts,
which is the last in the –W direction. Thus, the Mala
projection of any given tessaract of the set is that Mala
in the extreme –W block, whose place its (the given
tessaract’s) Mala would occupy, if the tessaractic set
moved Kata until the given tessaract reached our space.
Or, in other words, if all the tessaracts were transparent
except those which constitute the body under considera-
tion, and if a light shone through Four-space from the
Ana (W) side to the Kata (–W) side, there would be
darkness in each of those Malas, which would be occu-
pied by the Mala of any opaque tessaract, if the tes-
saractic set moved Kata.
Let us look at the set of 81 tessaracts we have built
up in the Mala arrangements, and trace the projections
in the extreme –W block of the thirteen of our shape.
The latter are printed in italics in Table A, and their
projections are marked ‡.
Thus the cube Uncus Mala is the projection of the
tessaract Orcus, Pallor Mala of Pallor and Tessera and
Tacerta, Bidens Mala of Cudo, Frenum Mala of Frenum
and Polus, Plebs Mala of Plebs and Cura and Penates,
Moles Mala of Moles and Vitta, Urna Mala of Urna.
Similarly, we can trace the Vesper projections (Table
B). Orcus Vesper is the projection of the tessaracts
Orcus and Lacerta, Ocrea Vesper of Tessera, Uncus
Vesper of Pallor, Cardo Vesper of Cudo, Polus Vesper
of Polus and Penates, Crates Vesper of Cura, Frenum
Vesper of Frenum and Plebs, Urna Vesper of Urna and
Moles, Thyrsus Vesper of Vitta. Next in the Pluvium
presentation (Table C) we find that Ridens Pluvium is
the projection of the tessaract Pallor, Cudo Pluvium of
Cudo and Tessera, Luctus Pluvium of Lacerta, Verbum
Pluvium of Orcus, Urna Pluvium of Urna and Frenum,
Moles Pluvium of Moles and Plebs, Vitta Pluvium of
Vitta and Cura, Securis Pluvium of Penates, Cervix
Pluvium of Polus. Lastly, in the Lar presentation
(Table D) we observe that Frenum Lar is the projection
of Frenum, Plebs Lar of Plebs and Pallor, Moles Lar
of Moles, Urna Lar of Urna, Cura Lar of Cura and
Tessara, Vitta Lar of Vitta and Cudo, Penates Lar of
Penates and Lacerta, Polur Lar of Polus and Orcus.
Secondly, we will treat the converse problem, how to
determine the shape when the projections in each pre-
sentation are given. Looking back at the list just given
above, let us write down in each presentation the pro-
jections only.
Mala projections :
Uncus, Pallor, Bidens, Frenum, Plebs, Moles, Urna.
Vesper projections :
Orcus, Ocrea, Uncus, Cardo, Polus, Crates, Frenum,
Urna, Thyrsus.
Pluvium projections :
Bidens, Cudo, Luctus, Verbum, Urna, Moles, Vitta,
Securis, Cervix.
Lar projections :
Frenum, Plebs, Moles, Urna, Cura, Vitta, Polus,
Penates.
Now let us determine the shape indicated by these

projections. In now using the same tables we must not
notice the italics, as the shape is supposed to be un-
known. It is assumed that the reader is building the
problem in cubes. From the Mala projections we might
infer the presence of all or any of the tessaracts written
in the brackets in the following list of the Mala presen-
tation.
(Uncus, Ocrea, Orcus); (Pallor, Tessera, Lacerta);
(Bidens, Cudo, Luctus); (Frenum, Crates, Polus);
(Plebs, Cura, Penates); (Moles, Vitta, Securis);
(Urna, Thyrsus, Cervix).
Let us suppose them all to be present in our shape,
and observe what their appearance would be in the
Vesper presentation. We mark them all with an asterisk
in Table B. In addition to those already marked we
must mark (†) Verbum, Cardo, Ostrum, and then we
see all the Vesper projections, which would be formed
by all the tessaracts possible from the Mala projections.
Let us compare these Vesper projections, viz. Orcus,
Ocrea, Uncus, Verbum, Cardo, Ostrum, Polus, Crates,
Frenum, Cervix, Thyrsus, Urna, with the given Vesper
projections. We see at once that Verbum, Ostrum, and
Cervix are absent. Therefore, we may conclude that
all the tessaracts, which would be implied as possible by
their presence, are absent, and of the Mala possibilities
may exclude the tessaracts Bidens, Luctus, Securis,
and Cervix itself. Thus, of the 21 tessaracts possible
in the Mala view, there remain only 17 possible, both
in the Mala and Vesper views, viz. Uncus, Ocrea,
Orcus, Pallor, Tessera, Lacerta, Cudo, Frenum, Crates,
Polus, Plebs, Cura, Penates, Moles, Vitta, Urna, Thyrsus.
This we call the Mala-Vesper solution.
Next let us take the Pluvium presentation. We again
mark with an asterisk in Table C the possibilities in-
ferred from the Mala-Vesper solution, and take the
projections those possibilities would produce. The ad-
ditional projections are again marked (†). There are
twelve Pluvium projections altogether, viz. Bidens, Os-
trum, Cudo, Cardo, Luctus, Verbum, Urna, Moles, Vitta,
Thyrsus, Securis, Cervix. Again we compare these with
the given Pluvium projections, and find three are absent,
viz. Ostrum, Cardo, Thyrsus. Hence the tessaracts
implied by Ostrum and Cardo and Thyrsus cannot be
in our shape, viz. Uncus, Ocrea, Crates, nor Thyrsus
itself. Excluding these four from the seventeen possi-
bilities of the Mala-Vesper solution we have left the
thirteen tessaracts: Orcus, Pallor, Tessera, Lacerta, Cudo,
Frenum, Polus, Plebs, Cura, Penates, Moles, Vitta, Urna.
This we call the Mala-Vesper-Pluvium solution.
Lastly, we have to consider whether these thirteen
tessaracts are consistent with the given Lar projections.
We mark them again on Table D with an asterisk, and
we find that the projections are exactly those given, viz.
Frenum, Plebs, Moles, Urna, Cura, Vitta, Polus, Penates.
Therefore, we have not to exclude any of the thirteen,
and can infer that they constitute the shape, which
produces the four different given views or projections.
In fine, any shape in space consists of the possibilities
common to the projections of its parts upon the boun-
daries of that space, whatever be the number of its
dimensions. Hence the simple rule for the determina-
tion of the shape would be to write down all the possi-
bilities of the sets of projections, and then cancel all
those possibilities which are not common to all. But
the process adopted above is much preferable, as through
it we may realize the gradual delimitation of the shape
view by view. For once more we must remind ourselves
that our great object is, not to arrive at results by
symbolical operations, but to realize those results piece
by piece through realized processes.
APPENDICES
APPENDIX A.
This set of 100 names is useful for studying Plane Space, and forms a squres 10 × 10
Aiōn Bios Hupar Neas Kairos Enos Thlipsis Cheimas Theion Epei
Itea Hagios Phaino Geras Tholos Ergon Pachūs Ki ōn Eris Cleos
Loma Etēs Trochos Klazo Lutron Hēdūs Ischūs Piagma Hedna Demas
Numphe Bathus Pauo Euthu Holos Para Thuos Karē Pylē Spareis
197
Ania Eōn Seranx Mesoi Dramo Thallos Aktē Ozo oOnos Magos
Notos Mēnis Lampas Ornis Thama Eni Pholis Mala Strizo Rudon
Labo Helor Rupa Rabdos Doru Epos Theos Idris Ēdē Hepo
Sophos Ichor Kaneōn Ephthra Oxis Lukē Bluo Helos Peri Thelus
Eunis Limos Keedo Igde Matē Lukos Pteris Holmos Oulo Dokos
Acido Ias Assa Muzo Hippeus Eōs Atē Akme Orē Gua
APPENDIX B.
The following list of names is used to denote cubic spaces. It
makes a cubic block of six floors, the highest being the sixth.
Fons Plectrum Vulnus Arena Mensa Terminus
Sixth Floor.
Testa Plausus Uva Collis Coma Nebula

Copia Cornu Solum Munus Rixum Vitrum
Aris Fervor Thyma Colubra Seges Cor
Lupus Classis Modus Flamma Mens Incola
Thalamus Hasta Calamus Crinis Auriga Vallum
Linteum Pinnis Puppis Nuptia Ægis Cithara
Fifth Floor.
Triumphus Curris Lux Portus Latus Funis

Regnum Fascis Bellum Capellus Arbor Custos
Sagitta Puer Stella Saxum Humor Pontus
Nomen Imaga Lapsus Quercus Mundus Prœlium
Palæstra Nuncius Bos Pharetra Pumex Tibia
Lignum Focus Ornus Lucrum Alea Vox
Fourth Floor.
Caterva Facies Onus Silva Gelu Flumen

Tellus Sol Os Arma Brachium Jaculum
Merum Signum Umbra Tempus Corona Socius
Mœna Opus Honor Campus Rivus Imber
Victor Equus Miles Cursus Lyra Tunica
Hædus Taberna Turris Nox Domus Vinum
Third Floor.
Pruinus Chorus Luna Flos Lucus Agna

Fulmen Hiems Ver Carina Arator Pratum
Oculus Ignios Æther Cohors Penna Labor
Aes Pectus Pelagus Notus Fretum Gradus
Princeps Dux Ventus Navis Finis Robur
Vultus Hostis Figura Ales Cœlum Aura
Second Floor.
Humerus Augur Ludus Clamor Galea Pes

Civis Ferrum Pugna Res Carmen Nubes
Litus Unda Rex Templum Ripa Amnis
Pannus Ulmus Sedes Columba Æquor Dama
Dexter Urbs Gens Monstrum Pecus Mons
Nemus Sidus Vertex Nix Grando Arx
First Floor.
Venator Cerva Aper Plagua Hedera Frons

Membrum Aqua Caput Castrum Lituus Tuba
Fluctus Rus Ratis Amphora Pars Dies
Turba Ager Trabs Myrtus Fibra Nauta
Decus Pulvis Meta Rota Palma Terra
APPENDIX C
The following names are used for a set of 256 Tesseracts.
FOURTH BLOCK. THIRD BLOCK.
Fourth Floor. Fourth Floor.
Dolium Caballus Python Circea Charta Cures Quæstor Cliens
Cussis Pulsus Drachma Cordax Frux Pyra Lena Procella
Porrum Consul Diota Dyka Hera Esca Sector Rugæ
Columen Ravis Corbis Rapina Eurus Gloria Socer Sequela
Third Floor. Third Floor.
Alexis Planta Corymbus Lectrum Arche Agger Cumulus Cassis
Æstus Labellum Calathus Nux Arcus Ovis Portio Mimus
200
Septum Spes Turtur Ordo Laurus Tigris Segmen Obolus
Morsus Æstas Capella Rheda Axis Troja Aries Fuga
Second Floor. Second Floor.
Corydon Jugum Tornus Labrum Ruina Culmen Fenestra Aedes
Lac Hibiscus Donum Caltha Postis Clipeus Tabula Lingua
Senex Palus Salix Cespes Orcus Lacerta Testudo Scala
Amictus Gurges Otium Pomum Verbum Luctus Anguis Dolus
First Floor. First Floor.
Odor Aprum Pignus Messor Additus Salus Clades Rana
Color Casa Cera Papaver Telum Nepos Angusta Mucro
Spes Lapis Apis Afrus Polus Neates Vulcan Ira
Vitula Clavis Fagus Cornix Cervix Securis Vinculum Furor
SECOND BLOCK. FIRST BLOCK.
Fourth Floor. Fourth Floor.
Actus Spadix Sicera Anser Horreum Fumus Hircus Erisma
Auspex Prætor Atta Sonus Anulus Pluor Acies Naxos
Fulgor Ardea Prex Ævum Etna Gemma Alpis Arbiter
Spina Birrus Acerra Remus Alauda Furca Gena Alnus
Third Floor. Third Floor.
Machina Lex Omen Artus Fax Venenum Syrma Ursa
Ara Vomer Pluma Odium Mars Merces Tyro Fama
Prœda Sacerdos Hydra Luxus Spicula Mora Oliva Conux
Cortex Mica Flagellum Mas Comes Tibicen Vestis Plenum
201
Second Floor. Second Floor.
Ardor Rupes Pallas Arista Rostrum Armiger Premium Tribus
Pilum Glans Colus Pellis Ala Cortis Aer Fragor
Ocrea Tessara Domitor Fera Uncus Pallor Tergum Reus
Cardo Cudo Malleus Thorax Ostrum Bidens Seena Torus
First Floor. First Floor.
Regina Canis Marmor Tectum Padrus Rubor Nurus Hospes
Agmen Lacus Arvus Rumor Sector Hama Reums Fortuna
Crates Cura Limen Vita Frenum Plebs Sypho Myrrha
Thyrsus Vita Sceptrum Pax Urna Moles Saltus Acus
APPENDIX D.
The following list gives the colours, and the various uses for
them. They have already been used in the foregoing pages to
distinguish the various regions of the Tessaract, and the different
individual cubes or Tessaracts in a block. The other use suggested
in the last column of the list has not been discussed; but it is be-
lieved that it may afford great aid to the mind in amassing,
handling, and retaining the quantities of formulæ requisite in
scientific training and work.
Region of Tesseract in
Colour Symbol.
Tesseract 81 Set.
Black Syce Plebs 0
White Mel Mora 1
Vermilion Avlus Uncus 2
Orange Cuspis Moles 3
Light-yellow Murex Cortis 4
Bright-green Lappa Penates 5
Bright-blue Iter Oliva 6
Light-grey Lares Tigris 7
Indian-red Crux Orcus 8
Yellow-ochre Sal Testudo 9
Buff Cista Sector + (plus)
Wood Tesseract Tessera – (minus)
Brown-green Tholus Troja ± (plus or minus)
Sage-green Margo Lacerta × (multiplied by)
Reddish Callis Tibicen ÷ (divided by)
Chocolate Velum Sacerdos = (equal to)
French-grey Far Scena ≠ (not equal to)
Brown Arctos Ostrum > (greater than)
Dark-slate Daps Aer < (less than)
Dun
Orange-vermilion
Portica
Talus
Clipeus
Portio
:
:: } signs
of proportion
Stone Ops Thyrsus ⋅ (decimal point)
Quaker-green Felis Axis ! (factorial)
Leaden Semita Merces ║ (parallel)
Dull-green Mappa Vulcan ╫ (not parallel)
π
Indigo Lixa Postis 2 (90°) (at right angles)
Dull-blue Pagus Verbum log. base 10

Dark-purple Mensura Nepos sin. (sine)
Pale-pink Vena Tabula cos. (cosine)
Dark-blue Mœna Bidens tan. (tangent)
Earthen Mugil Angusta ∞ (infinity)
Blue Dos Frenum a
Terracotta Crus Remus b
Oak Idus Domitor c
Yellow Pagina Cardo d
Appendix. 203
Region of Tesseract in
Colour Symbol.
Tesseract 81 Set.
Green Bucina Ala e
Rose Olla Limen f
Emerald Orsa Ara g
Red Olus Mars h
Sea-green Libera Pluma i
Salmon Tela Glans j
Pale-yellow Livor Ovis k
Purple-brown Opex Polus l
Deep-crimson Camœna Pilum m
Blue-green Proes Tergum n
Light-brown Lua Crates o
Deep-blue Lama Tyro p
Brick-red Lar Cura q
Magenta Offex Arvus r
Green-grey Cadus Hama s
Light-red Crœta Præda t
Azure Lotus Vitta u
Pale-green Vesper Ocrea v
Blue-tint Panax Telum w
Yellow-green Pactum Malleus x
Deep-green Mango Vomer y
Light-green Lis Agmen z
Light-blue Ilex Comes a
Crimson Bolus Sypho b
Ochre Limbus Mica g
Purple Solia Arcus d
Leaf-green Luca Securis e
Turquoise Ancilla Vinculum z
Dark-grey Orca Colus h
Fawn Nugæ Saltus q
Smoke Limus Sceptrum i
Light-buff Mala Pallor k
Dull-purple Sors Vestis l
Rich-red Lucta Cortex m
Green-blue Pator Flagellum n
Burnt-sienna Silex Luctus x
Sea-blue Lorica Lacus o
Peacock-blue Passer Aries p
Deep-brown Meatus Hydra r
Dark-pink Onager Anguis s
Dark Lensa Laurus t
Dark-stone Pluvium Cudo u
Silver Spira Cervix f
Gold Corvus Urna c
Deep-yellow Via Spicula y
Dark-green Calor Segmen w
APPENDIX E.
A THEOREM IN FOUR-SPACE.
IF a pyramid on a triangular base be cut by a plane which passes
through the three sides of the pyramid in such manner that the sides
of the sectional triangle are not parallel to the corresponding sides
of the triangle of the base; then the sides of these two triangles, if
produced in pairs, will meet in three points which are in a straight
line, namely, the line of intersection of the sectional plane and the
plane of the base.
Let A B C D be a pyramid on a triangular base A B C, and let
a b c be a section such that A B, B C, A C, are respectively not
parallel to a b, b c, a c. It must be understood that a is a point
on A D, b is a point on B D, and c a point on C D. Let, A B and
a b, produced, meet in m. B C and b c, produced, meet in n; and
A C and a c, produced, meet in o. These three points, m, n, o,
are in the line of intersection of the two planes A B C and a b c.
Now, let the line a b be projected on to the plane of the base, by
drawing lines from a and b at right angles to the base, and meeting
it in a’ b’ ; the line a’ b’, produced, will meet A B produced in m.
If the lines b c and a c be projected in the same way on to the
base, to the points b’ c’ and a’ c’ ; then B C and b’ c’ produced,
will meet in n, and A C and a’ c’ produced, will meet in o. The
two triangles A B C and a’ b’ c’ are such, that the lines joining
A to a’, B to b’, and C to c’, will, if produced, meet in a point,
namely, the point on the base A B C which is the projection of D.
Any two triangles which fulfil this condition are the possible base
projection of the section of a pyramid; therefore the sides of
such triangles, if produced in pairs, will meet (if they are not
parallel) in three points which lie in one straight line.
A four-dimensional pyramid may be defined as a figure
bounded by a polyhedron of any number of sides, and the same
number of pyramids whose bases are the sides of the polyhedron,
and whose apices meet in a point not in the space of the base.
If a four-dimensional pyramid on a tetrahedral base be cut by a
space which passes through the four sides of the pyramid in such
a way that the sides of the sectional figure be not parallel to the
sides of the base; then the sides of these two tetrahedra, if produced
in pairs, will meet in lines which all lie in one plane, namely, the
plane of intersection of the space of the base and the space of the
section.
Appendix. 205
If now the sectional tetrahedron be projected on to the base (by
drawing lines from each point of the section to the base at right
angles to it), there will be two tetrahedra fulfilling the condition
that the line joining the angles of the one to the angles of the
other will, if produced, meet in a point, which point is the projec-
tion of the apex of the four-dimensional pyramid.
Any two tetrahedra which fulfil this condition, are the possible
base and projection of a section of a four-dimensional pyramid.
Therefore, in any two such tetrahedra, where the sides of the one
are not parallel to the sides of the other, the sides, if produced in
pairs (one side of the one with one side of the other), will meet in
four straight lines which are all in one plane.
APPENDIX F.
EXERCISES ON SHAPES OF THREE DIMENSIONS.
The names used are those given in Appendix B.
Find the shapes from the following projections :
1. Syce projections: Ratis, Caput, Castrum, Plagua.
Alvus projections: Merum, Oculus, Fulmen, Pruinus.
Mœna projections: Miles, Ventus, Navis.
2. Syce: Dies, Tuba, Lituus, Frons.
Alvus: Sagitta, Regnum, Telluq Fulmen, Pruinus.
Mœna: Tibia, Tunica, Robur, Finis.
3. Syce: Nemus, Sidus, Vertex, Nix, Cerva.
Alvus: Lignum, Haedus, Vultus, Nemus, Humerus.
Mœna: Dexter, Princeps, Equus, Dux, Urbs, Pullis, Gens,
Monstrum, Miles.
4. Syce: Amphora, Castrum, Myrtus, Rota, Palma, Meta, Trabs,
Ratis.
Alvus: Dexter, Princeps, Moena, Aes, Merum, Oculus, Littus,
Civis, Fulmen.
Mœna: Gens, Ventus, Navis, Finis, Monstrum, Cursus.
5. Syce: Castrum, Plagua, Nix, Vertex, Aper, Caput, Cerva,
Venator.
Alvus: Triumphus, Tellus, Caterva, Lignum, Haedus, Pruinus,
Fulmen, Civis, Humerus, Vultus.
Mœna: Pharetra, Cursus, Miles, Equus, Dux, Navis, Monstrum,
Gens, Urbs, Dexter.
ANSWERS.
The shapes are :
1. Umbra, Aether, Ver, Carina, Flos.
2. Pontus, Custos, Jaculum, Pratum, Arator, Agna.
3. Focus, Ornus, Haedus, Taberna, Vultus, Hostis, Figura, Ales,
Sidus, Augur.
4. Tempus, Campus, Finis, Navis, Ventus, Pelagus, Notus, Cohors,
Æther, Carina, Res, Templum, Rex, Gens, Monstrum.
5. Portus, Arma, Sylva, Lucrum, Ornus, Onus, Os, Facies, Chorus,
Carina, Flos, Nox, Ales, Clamor, Res, Pugna, Ludus,
Figura, Augur, Humerus.
FURTHER EXERCISES IN SHAPES OF THREE DIMENSIONS.

The Names used are those given in Appendix C; and this set
of exercises forms a preparation for their use in space of four
dimensions. All are in the 27 Block (Urna to Syrma).
1. Syce: Moles, Frenum, Plebs, Sypho.
Alvus: Urna, Frenum, Uncus, Spicula, Comes.
Moena: Moles, Bidens, Tibicen, Comes, Saltus.
2. Syce: Urna, Moles, Plebs, Hama, Remus.
Alvus: Urna, Frenum, Sector, Ala, Mars.
Moena: Urna, Moles, Saltus, Bidens, Tibicen.
3. Syce: Moles, Plebs, Hama, Remus.
Alvus: Urna, Ostrum, Comes, Spicula, Frenum, Sector.
Mœna: Moles, Saltus, Bidens, Tibicen.
4. Syce: Frenum, Plebs, Sypho, Moles, Hama.
Alvus: Urna, Frenum, Uncus, Sector, Spicula.
Moena: Urna, Moles, Saltus, Scena, Vestis.
5. Syce: Urna, Moles, Plebs, Hama, Remus, Sector.
Alvus: Urna, Frenum, Sector, Uncus, Spicula, Comes, Mars.
Mœna: Urna, Moles, Saltus, Bidens, Tibicen, Comes.
6. Syce: Urna, Moles, Saltus, Sypho, Remus, Hama, Sector.
Alvus: Comes, Ostrum, Uncus, Spicula, Mars, Ala, Sector.
Mœna: Urna, Moles, Saltus, Scena, Vestis, Tibicen, Comes,
Ostrum.
7. Syce: Sypho, Saltus, Moles, Urna, Frenum, Sector.
Alvus: Urna, Frenum, Uncus, Spicula, Mars.
Mœna: Saltus, Moles, Urna, Ostrum, Comes.
8. Syce: Moles, Plebs, Hama, Sector.
Alvus: Ostrum, Frenum, Uncus, Spicula, Mars, Ala.
Mœna: Moles, Bidens, Tibicen, Ostrum.
Appendix. 207
9. Syce: Moles, Saltus, Sypho, Plebs, Frenuni, Sector.
Alvus: Ostrum, Comes, Spicula, Mars, Ala.
Mœna: Ostrum, Comes, Tibicen, Bidens, Scena, Vestis.
10. Syce: Urna, Moles, Saltus, Sypho, Remus, Sector, Frenum.
Alvus: Urna, Ostrum, Comes, Spicula, Mars, Ala, Sector.
Mœna: Urna, Ostrum, Comes, Tibicen, Vestis, Scena, Saltus.
11. Syce: Frenum, Plebs, Sypho, Hama.
Alvus: Frenum, Sector, Ala, Mars, Spicula.
Mœna: Urna, Moles, Saltus, Bidens, Tibicen.
ANSWERS.
The shapes are :
1. Moles, Plebs, Sypho, Pallor, Mora, Tibicen, Spicula.
2. Urna, Moles, Plebs, Hama, Cortis, Merces, Remus.
3. Moles, Bidens, Tibicen, Mora, Plebs, Hama, Remus.
4. Frenum, Plebs, Sypho, Tergum, Oliva, Moles, Hama.
5. Urna, Moles, Plebs, Hama, Remus, Pallor, Mora, Tibicen,
Mars, Merces, Comes, Sector.
6 Ostrum, Comes, Tibicen, Vestis, Scena, Tergum, Oliva, Tyro,
Aer, Remus, Hama, Sector, Merces, Mars, Ala.
7. Sypho, Saltus, Moles, Urna, Frenum, Uncus, Spiculn, Mars.
8. Plebs, Pallor, Mora, Bidens, Merces, Cortis, Ala.
9. Bidens, Tibicen, Vestis, Scena, Oliva, Mora, Spicula, Mars,
Ala.
10. Urna, Ostrum, Comes, Spicula, Mars, Tibicen, Vestis, Oliva,
Tyro, Aer, Remus, Sector, Ala, Saltus, Scena.
11. Frenum, Plebs, Sypho, Hama, Cortis, Merces, Mora.
APPENDIX G.
EXERCISES ON SHAPES OF FOUR DIMENSIONS.
The Names used are those given in Appendix C. The first six
exercises are in the 81 Set, and the rest in the 256 Set.
1. Mala projection : Urna, Moles, Plebs, Pallor, Cortis, Merces.
Lar projection : Urna, Moles, Plebs, Cura, Penates, Nepos.
Pluvium projection : Urna, Moles, Vitta, Cudo, Luctus, Troja.
Vesper projection : Urna, Frenum, Crates, Ocrea, Orcus, Postis,
Arcus.
2. Mala : Urna, Frenum, Uncus, Pallor, Cortis, Aer.
Lar : Urna, Frenum, Crates, Cura, Lacus, Arvus, Angusta.
Pluvium : Urna, Thyrsus, Cardo, Cudo, Malleus, Anguis.
Vesper : Urna, Frenum, Crates, Ocrea, Pilum, Postis.
3. Mala : Comes, Tibicen, Mora, Pallor.
Lar : Urna, Moles, Vitta, Cura, Penates.
Pluvium : Comes, Tibicen, Mica, Troja, Luctus.
Vesper : Comes, Cortex, Praeda, Laurus, Orcus.
4. Mala : Vestis, Oliva, Tyro.
Lar : Saltus, Sypho, Remus, Arvus, Angusta.
Pluvium : Vestis, Flagellum, Aries.
Vesper : Comes, Spicula, Mars, Ara, Arcus.
5. Mala : Mars, Merces, Tyro, Aer, Tergum, Pallor, Plebs.
Lar : Sector, Hama, Lacus, Nepos, Angusta, Vulcan, Penates.
Pluvium : Comes, Tibicen, Mica, Troja, Aries, Anguis, Luctus,
Securis.
Vesper : Mars, Ara, Arcus, Postis, Orcus, Polus.
6. Mala : Pallor, Mora, Oliva, Tyro, Merces, Mars, Spicula,
Comes, Tibicen, Vestis.
Lar : Plebs, Cura, Penates, Vulcan, Angusta, Nepos, Telum,
Polus, Cervix, Securis, Vinculum.
Pluvium : Bidens, Cudo, Luctus, Troja, Axis, Aries.
Vesper : Uncus, Ocrea, Orcus, Laurus, Arcus, Axis.
7. Mala : Hospes, Tribus, Fragor, Aer, Tyro, Mora, Oliva.
Lar : Hospes, Tectum, Rumor, Arvus, Angusta, Cera, Apis,
Lapis.
Pluvium : Acus, Torus, Malleus, Flagellum, Thorax, Aries,
Aestas, Capella.
Vesper : Pardus, Rostrum, Ardor, Pilum, Ara, Arcus, Aestus,
Septum.
8. Mala : Pallor, Tergum, Aer, Tyro, Cortis, Sytma, Ursa, Fama,
Naxos, Erisma.
Lar : Plebs, Cura, Limen, Vulcan, Angusta, Nepos, Cera,
Papaver, Pignus, Messor.
Pluvium : Bidens, Cudo, Malleus, Anguis, Aries, Luctus,
Capella, Rheda, Rapina.
Vesper : Uncus, Ocrea, Orcus, Postis, Arcus, Aestus, Cussis,
Dolium, Alexis.
9. Mala : Fama, Conjux, Reus, Torus, Acus, Myrrha, Sypho,
Plebs, Pallor, Mora, Oliva, Alpis, Acies, Hircus.
Lar : Missale, Fortuna, Vita, Pax, Furor, Ira, Vulcan, Penates,
Lapis, Apis, Cera, Pignus.
Appendix. 209
Pluvium : Torus, Plenum, Pax, Thorax, Dolus, Furor, Vinculum,
Securis, Clavis, Gurges, Aestas, Capella, Corbis.
Vesper : Uncus, Spicula, Mars, Ocrea, Cardo, Thyrsus, Cervix,
Verbum, Orcus, Polus, Spes, Senex, Septum, Porrum,
Cussis, Uolium.
ANSWERS.
The shapes are :
1. Urna, Moles, Plebs, Cura, Tessara, Lacerta, Clipeus, Ovis.
2. Urna, Frenum, Crates, Ocrea, Tessara, Glans, Colus, Tabula.
3. Comes, Tibicen, Mica, Sacerdos, Tigris, Lacerta.
4. Vestis, Oliva, Tyro, Pluma, Portio.
5. Mars, Merces, Vomer, Ovis, Portio, Tabula, Testudo, Lacerta,
Penates.
6. Pallor, Tessara, Lacerta, Tigris, Segmen, Portio, Ovis, Arcus,
Laurus, Axis, Troja, Aries.
7. Hospes, Tribus, Arista, Pellis, Colus, Pluma, Portio, Calathus,
Turtur, Sepes.
8. Pallor, Tessara, Domitor, Testudo, Tabula, Clipeus, Portio,
Calathus, Nux, Lectrum, Corymbus, Circaea, Cordax.
9. Fama, Conjux, Reus, Fera, Thorax, Pax, Furor, Dolus, Scala,
Ira, Vulcan, Penates, Lapis, Palus, Sepes, Turtur, Diota,
Drachma, Python.
APPENDIX H.
SECTIONS OF CUBE AND TESSARACT.
There are three kinds of sections of a cube.
1. The sectional plane, which is in all cases supposed to be
infinite, can be taken parallel to two of the opposite faces of the
cube; that is, parallel to two of the lines meeting in Corvus, and
cutting the third.
2. The sectional plane can be taken parallel to one of the lines
meeting in Corvus and cutting the other two, or one or both of
them produced.
3. The sectional plane can be taken cutting all three lines, or
any or all of them produced.
Take the first case, and suppose the plane cuts Dos half-way
between Corvus and Cista. Since it does not cut Arctos or Cuspis,
or either of them produced, it will cut Via, Iter, and Bolus at the
middle point of each; and the figure, determined by the inter-
section of the Plane and Mala, is a square. If the length of
the edge of the cube be taken as the unit, this figure may be
Z X Y
expressed thus: showing that the Z and X lines
0 . 0 . ½
from Corvus are not cut at all, and that the Y line is cut at half-
a-unit from Corvus.
Z X Y Z X Y
Sections taken and would also
0 . 0 . ¼ 0 . 0 . ¾
be squares.
Take the second case.
Let the plane cut Cuspis and Dos, each at half-a-unit from Cor-
vus, and not cut Arctos or Arctos produced; it will also cut through
the middle points of Via and Callis. The figure produced, is a
rectangle which has two sides of one unit, and the other two are
each the diagonal of a half-unit squared.
If the plane cuts Cuspis and Dos, each at one unit from Corvus,
and is parallel to Arctos, the figure will be a rectangle which has
two sides of one unit in length; and the other two the diagonal
of one unit squared.
If the plane passes through Mala, cutting Dos produced and
Cuspis produced, each at one-and-a-half unit from Corvus, and is
parallel to Arctos, the figure will be a parallelogram like the one
Z X Y
obtained by the section
0 . ½ . ½
This set of figures will be expressed
Z X Y Z X Y Z X Y
0 . ½ . ½ 0 . 1 . 1 0 . 1½ . 1½
It will be seen that these sections are parallel to each other;
and that in each figure Cuspis and Dos are cut at equal distances
from Corvus.
We may express the whole set thus:—
Z X Y
0 . I . I
it being understood that where Roman figures are used, the numbers
do not refer to the length of unit cut off any given line from Corvus,
Z X Y
but to the proportion between the lengths. Thus
0 . I . II
means that Arctos is not cut at all, and that Cuspis and Dos are
cut, Dos being cut twice as far from Corvus as is Cuspis.
These figures will also be rectangles.
Take the third case.
Appendix. 211
Suppose Arctos, Cuspis, and Dos are each cut half-way. This
figure is an equilateral triangle, whose sides are the diagonal of
Z X Y
a half-unit squared. The figure is also an equi-
1 . 1 . 1
Z X Y
lateral triangle, and the figure is an equilateral
1½ . 1½ . 1½
hexagon.
It is easy for us to see what these shapes are, and also,
Z X Y
what the figures of any other set would be, as
I . II . II
Z X Y
or but we must learn them as a two-dimensional
I . II . III
being would, so that we may see how to learn the three-dimensional
sections of a tessaract.
It is evident that the resulting figures are the same whether we
fix the cube, and then turn the sectional plane to the required
position, or whether we fix the sectional plane, and then turn the
cube. Thus, in the first case we might have fixed the plane, and
then so placed the cube that one plane side coincided with the
sectional plane, and then have drawn the cube half-way through, in
a direction at right angles to the plane, when we should have seen
the square first mentioned. In the second case ( Z X
0 . I . I
Y
)
we might have put the cube with Arctos coinciding with the plane
and with Cuspis and Dos equally inclined to it, and then have
drawn the cube through the plane at right angles to it until the
lines (Cuspis and Dos) were cut at the required distances from Corvus.
In the third case we might have put the cube with only Corvus
coinciding with the plane and with Cuspis, Dos, and Arctos equally
inclined to it (for any of the shapes in the set
Z X
I . I . I
Y
)
and then have drawn it through as before. The resulting figures
are exactly the same as those we got before; but this way is the
best to use, as it would probably be easier for a two-dimensional
being to think of a cube passing through his space than to
imagine his whole space turned round, with regard to the cube.
We have already seen (p. 117) how a two-dimensional being
would observe the sections of a cube when it is put with one plane
side coinciding with his space, and is then drawn partly through.
Now, suppose the cube put with the line Arctos coinciding with
his space, and the lines Cuspis and Dos equally inclined to it. At
first he would only see Arctos. If the cube were moved until
Dos and Cuspis were each cut half-way, Arctos still being parallel
to the plane, Arctos would disappear at once; and to find out what
he would see he would have to take the square sections of the cube,
and find on each of them what lines are given by the new set of
sections. Thus he would take Mœna itself, which may be re-
garded as the first section of the square set. One point of the
figure would be the middle point of Cuspis, and since the sectional
plane is parallel to Arctos, the line of intersection of Mœna with
the sectional plane will be parallel to Arctos. The required line
then cuts Cuspis half-way, and is parallel to Arctos, therefore it
cuts Callis half-way.
Next he would take the square section half-way between Mœna
and Murex. He knows that the line Alvus of this section is
parallel to Arctos, and that the point Dos at one of its ends is
half-way between Corvus and Cista, so that this line itself is the
one he wants (because the sectional plane cuts Dos half-way
between Corvus and Cista, and is parallel to Arctos). In Fig. 21
the two lines thus found are shown. a b is the line in Mœna,
and c d the line in the section. He must now find out how far
apart they are. He knows that from the middle point of Cuspis
to Corvus is half-a-unit, and from the middle point of Dos to
Corvus is half-a-unit, and Cuspis and Dos are at right angles to
each other; therefore from the middle point of Cuspis to the
middle point of Dos is the diagonal of a square whose sides are
half-a-unit in length. This diagonal may be written d (½)2. He
would also see that from the middle point of Callis to the middle
point of Via is the same length; therefore the figure is a parallelo-
gram, having two of its sides, each one unit in length, and the
other two each d (½)2.
He could also see that the angles are right, because the lines
a c and b d are made up of the X and Y directions, and the
other two, a b and c d, are purely Z, and since they have no tendency
in common, they are at right angles to each other.
Z X Y
If he wanted the figure made by it would be a
0 . 1½ . 1½
little more difficult. He would have to take Mœna, a section half-
way between Mœna and Murex, Murex and another square which
he would have to regard as an imaginary section half-a-unit
further Y than Murex (Fig. 22). He might now draw a ground
plan of the sections; that is, he would draw Syce, and produce
Cuspis and Dos half-a-unit beyond Nugæ and Cista. He would
see that Cadus and Bolus would be cut half-way, so that in the
b a
Arctos Cal lis Mel
Proes
Alvus
Mœna Section
Cuspis Far Syce

d c
Fig.21
Section
Mœna
halfway
d
d
Murex Imaginary
Section
e
Fig.22
Imaginary
Section
c
Cadus
Cuspis
Groundplan of Sections
shewn in Fig 22.
Fig.23
a c
Mœna b Section
s
d
e Murex Imaginary
Section
f im
Fig.24
Appendix. 213
half-way section he mould have the point a (Fig. 23), and in Murex
the point c. In the imaginary section he would have g; but this
he might disregard, since the cube goes no further than Murex.
From the points c and a there would be lines going Z, so that Iter
and Semita would be cut half-way.
He could find out how far the two lines a b and c d (Fig. 22)
are apart by referring d and b to Lama, and a and c to Crus.
In taking the third order of sections, a similar method may be
followed.
Suppose the sectional plane to cut Cuspis, Dos, and Arctos,
each at one unit from Corvus. He would first take Mœna, and
as the sectional plane passes through Ilex and Nugæ, the line on
Mœna would be the diagonal passing through these two points.
Then he would take Murex, and he would see that as the plane
cuts Dos at one unit from Corvus, all he would have is the point
Cista. So the whole figure is the Ilex to Nugæ diagonal, and the
point Cista.
Now Cista and Ilex are each one inch from Corvus, and
measured along lines at right angles to each other; therefore, they
are d (½)2 from each other. By referring Nugæ and Cista to
Corvus he would find that they are also d (½)2 apart; therefore the
figure is an equilateral triangle, whose sides are each d (½)2.
Suppose the sectional plane to pass through Mala, cutting Cuspis,
Dos, and Arctos each at 1½ unit from Corvus. To find the figure,
the plane-being would have to take Mœna, a section half-way
between Mœna and Murex, Murex, and an imaginary section half-a-
unit beyond Murex (Fig. 24). He would produce Arctos and Cuspis
to points half-a-unit from Ilex and Nugæ, and by joining these
points, he would see that the line passes through the middle points
of Callis and Far (a, b, Fig. 24). In the last square, the imaginary
section, there would be the point m; for this is 1½ unit from
Corvus measured along Dos produced. There would also be lines
in the other two squares, the section and Murex, and to find these
he would have to make many observations. He found the points
a and b (Fig 24) by drawing a line from r to s, r and s being each
1½ unit from Corvus, and simply seeing that it cut Callis and Far
at the middle point of each. He might now imagine a cube Mala
turned about Arctos, so that Alvus came into his plane; he might
then produce Arctos and Dos until they were each I ½ unit long,
and join their extremities, when he would see that Via and Bucina
are each cut half-way. Again, by turning Syce into his plane, and
producing Dos and Cuspis to points 1½ unit from Corvus and
joining the points, he would see that Bolus and Cadus are cut half-
way. He has now determined six points on Mala, through which
the plane passes, and by referring them in pairs to Ilex, Olus,
Cista, Crus, Nugz, Sors, he would find that each was d (½)2 from the
next; so he would know that the figure is an equilateral hexagon.
The angles he would not have got in this observation, and they
might be a serious difficulty to him. It should be observed that
a similar difficulty does not come to us in our observation of the
sections of a tessaract: for, if the angles of each side of a solid
figure are determined, the solid angles are also determined.
There is another, and in some respects a better, way by which
he might have found the sides of this figure. If he had noticed
his plane-space much, he would have found out that, if a line be
drawn to cut two other lines which meet, the ratio of the parts of
the two lines cut off by the first line, on the side of the angle, is
the same for those lines, and any other two that are parallel to
them. Thus, if a b and a c (Fig 25) meet, making an angle at a,
and b c crosses them, and also crosses a’ b’ and a’ c’, these last
two being parallel to a b and a c, then a b : a c :: a’ b’ : a’ c’.
If the plane-being knew this, he would rightly assume that if
three lines meet, making a solid angle, and a plane passes through
them, the ratio of the parts between the plane and the angle is the
same for those three lines, and for any other three parallel to them.
In the case we are dealing with he knows that from Ilex to the
point on Arctos produced where the plane cuts, it is half-a-unit;
and as the Z, X, and Y lines are cut equally from Corvus, he would
conclude that the X and Y lines are cut the same distance from
Ilex as the Z line, that is half-a-unit. He knows that the X line
is cut at 18 units from Corvus; that is, half-a-unit from Nugæ:
so he would conclude that the Z and Y lines are cut half-a-unit
from Nugæ. He would also see that the Z and X lines from Cista
are cut at half-a-unit. He has now six points on the cube, the
middle points of Callis, Via, Bucina, Cadus, Bolus, and Far.
Now, looking at his square sections, he would see on Mœna a
line going from middle of Far to middle of Callis, that is, a line
d (½)2 long. On the section he would see a line from middle of
Via to middle of Bolus d (½)2 long, and on Murex he would see a
line from middle of Cadus to middle of Bucina, d (½)2 long. Of
these three lines a b, c d, e f, (Fig. 24)—a b and e f are sides, and
c d is a section of the required figure. He can find the distances
b´
b
a c
a´ c´
Fig.25
Appendix. 215
between a and c by reference to Ilex, between b and d by reference
to Nugæ, between c and e by reference to Olus, and between
d and f by reference to Crus; and he will find that these distances
are each d (½)2
Thus, he would know that the figure is an equilateral hexagon
with its sides d (½)2 long, of which two of the opposite points (c and
d) are d (1)2 apart, and the only figure fulfilling all these conditions
is an equilateral and equiangular hexagon.
Enough has been said about sections of a cube, to show how a
Z X Y
plane-being would find the shapes in any set as in I . II . II
Z X Y
or I . I . II
He would always have to bear in mind that the ratio of the
lengths of the Z, X, and Y lines is the same from Corvus to the
sectional plane as from any other point to the sectional plane.
Thus, if he were taking a section where the plane cuts Arctos and
Cuspis at one unit from Corvus and Dos at one-and-a-half, that
is where the ratio of Z and of X to Y is as two to three, he would
see that Dos itself is not cut at all; but from Cista to the point
on Dos produced is half-a-unit; therefore from Cista, the Z and X
lines will be cut at 2/3 of ½ unit from Cista.
It is impossible in writing to show how to make the various
sections of a tessaract; and even if it were not so, it would be
unadvisable; for the value of doing it is not in seeing the shapes
themselves, so much as in the concentration of the mind on the
tessaract involved in the process of finding them out.
Any one who wishes to make them should go carefully over the
sections of a cube, not looking at them as he himself can see them,
or determining them as he, with his three-dimensional conceptions,
can; but he must limit his imagination to two dimensions, and
work through the problems which a plane-being would have to
work through, although to his higher mind they may be self-
evident. Thus a three-dimensional being can see at a glance,
that if a sectional plane passes through a cube at one unit each
way from Corvus, the resulting figure is an equilateral triangle.
If he wished to prove it, he would show that the three bounding
lines are the diagonals of equal squares. This is all a two-
dimensional being would have to do; but it is not so evident to
him that two of the lines are the diagonals ot squares.
Moreover, when the figure is drawn, we can look at it from a
point outside the plane of the figure, and can thus see it all at once;
but he who has to look at it from a point in the plane can
only see an edge at a time, or he might see two edges in perspec-
tive together.
Then there are certain suppositions he has to make. For
instance, he knows that two points determine a line, and he
assumes that three points determine a plane, although he cannot
conceive any other plane than the one in which he exists. We
assume that four points determine a solid space. Or rather, we
say that if this supposition, together with certain others of a like
nature, are true, we can find all the sections of a tessaract, and of
other four-dimensional figures by an infinite solid.
When any difficulty arises in taking the sections of a tessaract,
the surest way of overcoming it is to suppose a similar difficulty
occurring to a two-dimensional being in taking the sections of a
cube, and, step by step, to follow the solution he might obtain, and
then to apply the same or similar principles to the case in point.
A few figures are given, which, if cut out and folded along the
lines, will show some of the sections of a tessaract. But the reader
is earnestly begged not to be content with looking at the shapes
only. That will teach him nothing about a tessaract, or four-
dimensional space, and will only tend to produce in his mind a
feeling that “the fourth dimension” is an unknown and unthink-
able region, in which any shapes may be right, as given sections
of its figures, and of which any statement may be true. While, in
fact, if it is the case that the laws of spaces of two and three
dimensions may, with truth, be carried on into space of four
dimensions; then the little our solidity (like the flatness of a
plane-being) will allow us to learn of these shapes and relations,
is no more a matter of doubt to us than what we learn of two- and
three-dimensional shapes and relations.
There are given also sections of an octa-tessaract, and of a
tetra-tessaract, the equivalents in four-space of an octahedron and
tetrahedron.
A tetrahedron may be regarded as a cube with every alternate
corner cut off. Thus, if Mala have the corner towards Corvus cut
off as far as the points Ilex, Nugæ, Cista, and the corner towards
Sors cut off as far as Ilex, Nugæ, Lama, and the corner towards
Crus cut off as far as Lama, Nugæ, Cista, and the corner towards
Olus cut off as far as Ilex, Lama, Cista, what is left of the cube is
a tetrahedron, whose angles are at the points Ilex, Nugæ, Cista,
Lama. In a similar manner, if every alternate corner of a tessaract
Vesper Pluvium
Vesper Velum Pluvium
Mala
Mala
Tela Idus
Lar
Fig.26
Lar
Fig.27
Margo
(i)
Tela Lar
Idus
Margo
Tela Pluvium
Vesper Pluvium
Margo
Velum
Fig.27
Velum
Mala
Fig.26
Fig.29
Margo
Vesper Pluvium
Velum
(ii)
Mala
Tela Idus
Lar
Fig.28
Fig.30
Fig.32
Fig.31
(iii)
Fig.35
Fig.33 Fig.34
(iv)
Fig.38
Fig.36
Fig.37
(v)
Fig.41
Fig.40
Fig.39
(vi)
Appendix. 217
be cut off, the figure that is left is a tetra-tessaract, which is a
figure bounded by sixteen regular tetrahedrons.
The octa-tessaract is got by cutting off every corner of the
tessaract. If every corner of a cube is cut off, the figure left is
an octa-hedron, whose angles are at the middle points of the sides.
The angles of the octa-tessaract are at the middle points of its plane
sides. A careful study of a tetra-hedron and an octa-hedron as
they are cut out of a cube will be the best preparation for the study
of these four-dimensional figures. It will be seen that there is
much to learn of them, as—How many planes and lines there are
in each, How many solid sides there are round a point in each.
A D ESCRIPTION OF F IGURES 26 TO 41.

Z X Y W
{
26 is a section taken 1 . 1 . 1 . 1
Z X Y W
27 … … … 1½ . 1½ . 1½ . 1½
I . I . I . I
28 … … … 2 . 2 . 2 . 2
Z X Y W
{
29 is a section taken 1 . 1 . 1 . 1
Z X Y W
30 … … … 1½ . 1½ . 1½ . 1½
II . II . II . I
31 … … … 2 . 2 . 2 . 2
32 … … … 2½ . 2½ . 2½ . 2½
The above are sections of a tessaract. Figures 33 to 35 are of
a tetra-tessaract. The tetra-tessaract is supposed to be imbedded
in a tessaract, and the sections are taken through it, cutting the Z
X and Y lines equally, and corresponding to the figures given of
the sections of the tessaract.
Figures 36, 37, and 38 are similar sections of an octa-tessaract.
Figures 39, 40, and 41 are the following sections of a tessaract.
Z X Y W
{
39 is a section taken 0 . ½ . ½ . ½
Z X Y W
40 … … … 0 . 1 . 1 . 1
O . I . I . I
41 … … … 0 . 1½ . 1½ . 1½
It is clear that there are four orders of sections of every four-
dimensional figure; namely, those beginning with a solid, those
beginning with a plane, those beginning with a line, and those
beginning with a point. There should be little difficulty in finding
them, if the sections of a cube with a tetra-hedron, or an octa-
hedron enclosed in it, are carefully examined.
PART II. APPENDIX K.
———
MODEL 1. MALA.
Ol
ma
u s Semita
La
Via Mel So r
Ile
x Callis
rs Ite
Daps
Bucina
Murex
s
s
Arctos
oe
vu
Mœna
Far
Pr
Al
Ci
st
a Cadus Cr
us
os
s
D
lu
Syce
Bo
us Cuspis
Nu
rv
Co
gæ
COLOURS: MALA, LIGHT-BUFF.
Points: Corvus, Gold. Nugæ, Fawn. Crus, Terra-cotta. Cista, Buff.

Ilex, Light-blue. Sors, Dull-purple. Lama, Deep-blue. Olus,
Red.
Lines: Cuspis, Orange. Bolus, Crimson. Cadus, Green-grey. Dos, Blue.
Arctos, Brown. Far, French-grey. Daps, Dark-slate. Bucina,
Green. Callis, Reddish. Iter, Bright-blue. Semita, Leaden.
Via, Deep-yellow.
Surfaces: Mœna, Dark-blue. Proes, Blue-green. Murex, Light-yellow.
Alvus, Vermilion. Mel, White. Syce, Black.
219
———
MODEL 2. MARGO.
So
s
lu
l ia Livor
Ta
a r
ns Lares lo
Fel Le
is Tholus Ca
Pa
ss
Vena
er
Lixa
Portica
ux
l
Sa
Cr
Pagus
Onager
Pa
na
Silex
x Mensura Mu
gi
x l
pe
a
pp
O Lappa
Ma
a Luca
An
ir
Sp
ci
ll
a
COLOURS: MARGO, SAGE-GREEN.
Points: Spira, Silver. Ancilla, Turqouise. Mugil, Earthen. Panax,

Blue-tint. Felis, Quaker-green. Passer, Peacock-blue. Talus,
Orange-vermilion. Solia, Purple.
Lines: Luca, Leaf-green. Mappa, Dull-green. Mensura, Dark-purple.
Opex, Purple-brown. Pagus, Dull-blue. Onager, Dark-pink.
Venua, Pale-pink. Lixa, Indigo. Tholus, Brown-green. Calor,
Dark-green. Livor, Pale-yellow. Lensa, Dark.
Surfaces: Silex, Burnt-sienna. Sal, Yellow-ochre. Portica, Dun. Crux,
Indian-red. Lares, Light-grey. Lappa, Bright-green.
220
———
MODEL 3. LAR.
Ci
us
s ta Cadus
Cr
Co Do
s us
rv Syce ol
us Cuspis B
Nu
gæ
Offex
Lorica
Lis
lla
Limus
Ops
O
a
Lu
Pa
na
Lotus
x Mensura Mu
gi
p ex l
a
O Lappa
pp
Ma
a Luca
An
ir
Sp
ci
ll
a
COLOURS: LAR, BRICK-RED.
Points: Spira, Silver. Ancilla, Turqouise. Mugil, Earthen. Panax,

Blue-tint. Corvus, Gold. Nugæ, Fawn. Crus, Terra-cotta.
Cista, Buff.
Lines: Luca, Leaf-green. Mappa, Dull-green. Mensura, Dark-purple.
Opex, Purple-brown. Ops, Stone. Limus, Smoke. Offex,
Magenta. Lis, Light-green. Cuspis, Orange. Bolus, Crim-
son. Cadus, Green-grey. Dos, Blue.
Surfaces: Lotus, Azure. Olla, Rose. Lorica, Sea-blue. Lua, Bright-
brown. Syce, Black. Lappa, Bright-green.
221
———
MODEL 4. VELUM.
Ol
ma
u s Semita
La
r
Il Via Mel Ite
ex Callis So
rs
Libera
Orsa
Mango
ta
s
tu
e
ro
ea
Lucta
So Limbus M
Pator
li
a Livor Ta
lu
n sa s
Le
lor
Lares
Ca
Tholus
Pa
s
li
ss
Fe
er
COLOURS: VELUM, CHOCOLATE.
Points: Felis, Quaker-green. Passer, Peacock-blue. Talus, Orange-

vermilion. Solia, Purple. Ilex, Light-blue. Sors, Dull-
purple. Lama, Deep-blue. Olus, Red.
Lines: Tholus, Brown-green. Calor, Dark-green. Livor, Pale-yellow.
Lensa, Dark. Lucta, Rich-red. Pator, Green-blue. Libera,
Sea-green. Orsa, Emerald. Callis, Reddish. Iter, Bright-
blue. Semita, Leaden. Via, Deep-yellow.
Surfaces: Limbus, Ochre. Meatus, Deep-brown. Mango, Deep-green.
Croeta, Light-red. Mel, White. Lares, Light-grey.
222
———
MODEL 5. VESPER.
So
us
l ia Orsa
Ol
a
ns
Fe Le Croeta Vi
a
li
s Lucta Il
ex
Bucina
Lixa
Camœna
s
Pagus
vu
ux
Arctos
Pagina Al
Cr
Pa
na
x Lis Ci
st
p ex a
O Lua
s
Do
a Ops
Co
ir
Sp
rv
us
COLOURS: VESPER, PALE-GREEN.
Points: Spira, Silver. Corvus, Gold. Cista, Buff. Panax, Blue-tint.

Felis, Quaker-green. Ilex, Light-blue. Olus, Red. Solia,
Purple.
Lines: Ops, Stone. Dos, Blue. Lis, Light-green. Opex, Purple-brown.
Pagus, Dull-blue. Arctos, Brown. Bucina, Green. Lixa,
Indigo. Lucta, Rich-red. Via, Deep-yellow. Orsa, Emerald.
Lensa, Dark.
Surfaces: Pagina, Yellow. Alvus, Vermilion. Camœna, Deep-crimson.
Crux, Indian-red. Croeta, Light-red. Lua, Light-brown.
223
———
MODEL 6. IDUS.
Ta
ma
l us Libera
La
lor Meatus r
Pa
ss Ca Ite
er Pator So
rs
Daps
Vena
Orca
s
Onager
oe
l
Sa
Mu Pactum Pr
gi
l Offex
Far
Cr
a us
a pp
lor
M Olla
Ca
la Limus
Nu
il
gæ
c
An
COLOURS: IDUS, OAK.
Points: Ancilla, Turquoise. Nugæ, Fawn. Crus, Terra-cotta. Mugil,

Earthen. Passer, Peacock-blue. Sors, Dull-purple. Lama,
Deep-blue. Talus, Orange-vermilion.
Lines: Limus, Smoke. Bolus, Crimson. Offex, Magenta. Mappa,
Dull-green. Onager, Dark-pink. Far, French-grey. Daps,
Dark-slate. Vena, Pale-pink. Pator, Green-blue. Iter, Bright-
blue. Libera, Sea-green. Calor. Dark-green.
Surfaces: Pactum, Yellow-green. Proes, Blue-green. Orca, Dark-grey.
Sal, Yellow-ochre. Meatus, Deep-brown. Olla, Rose.
224
———
MODEL 7. PLUVIUM.
Il
rs
e x Callis
So
cta r
Fe Lu Limbus to
li
s Tholos Pa
Pa
ss
er
Arctos
Mœna
Far
na
um
Pagus
gi
ct
Onager
Pa
Co Silex Pa
r vu
s Cuspis Nu
gæ
ps
s
O Lotus
u
Lim
An
a Luca
ir
ci
Sp
ll
a
COLOURS: PLUVIUM, DARK-STONE.
Points: Spira, Silver. Ancilla, Turquoise. Nugæ, Fawn. Corvus,

Gold. Felis, Quaker-green. Passer, Peacock-blue. Sors,
Dull-purple. Ilex, Light-blue.
Lines: Luca, Leaf-green. Limus, Smoke. Cuspis, Orange. Ops,
Stone. Pagus, Dull-blue. Onager, Dark-pink. Far, French-
grey. Arctos, Brown. Tholos, Brown-green. Pator, Green-
blue. Callis, Reddish. Lucta, Rich-red.
Surfaces: Silex, Burnt-Sienna. Pactum, Yellow-green. Mœna, Dark-
blue. Pagina, Yellow. Limbus, Ochre. Lotus, Azure.
225
———
MODEL 8. TELA.
Ol
ma
u s Semita
La
ra
sa be
So
li Or Mango Li
a Livor Ta
lu
Bucina
Daps
Murex
na
a
œ
rc
m
O
Ca
Portica
Lixa
Ci
st
Vena
a Cadus Cr
us
s
Li
fex
Lorica
Of
x Mensura
Mu
na
gi
Pa
l
COLOURS: TELA, SALMON.
Points: Panax, Blue-tint. Mugil, Earthen. Crus, Terra-cotta. Cista,

Buff. Solia, Purple. Talus, Orange-vermilion. Lama,
Deep-blue. Olus, Red.
Lines: Mensura, Dark-purple. Offex, Magenta. Cadus, Green-grey.
Lis, Light-green. Lixa, Indigo. Vena, Pale-pink. Daps,
Dark-slate. Bucina, Green. Livor, Pale-yellow. Libera,
Sea-green. Semita, Leaden. Orsa, Emerald.
Surfaces: Portica, Dun. Orca, Dark-grey. Murex, Light-yellow.
Camœna, Deep-crimson. Mango, Deep-green. Lorica, Sea-
blue.
226
———
MODEL 9. SECTION BETWEEN MARGO AND MALA.
ra
Or
be
s a Mango
Li
ta s
oe tu
Lu Cr Velum ea
ct M
a Limbus Pa
to
Camœna
Orca
Tela
er
sp
us
Pagina
Pactum
Ve
Li Pluvium Id
s Lorica Of
fe
a x
Lu Lar
la
Ol
Li
s Lotus
Op
mu
s
COLOURS: INTERIOR OR TESSARACT, WOOD.
Points (Lines): Ops , Stone. Limus, Smoke. Offex, Magenta. Lis,

Light-green. Lucta, Rich-red. Pator, Green-blue. Libera,
Sea-green. Orsa, Emerald.
Lines (Surfaces): Lotus, Azure. Olla, Rose. Lorica, Sea-blue. Lua,
Bright- brown. Pagina, Yellow. Pactum, Yellow-green.
Orca, Dark-grey. Camœna, Deep-crimson. Limbus, Ochre.
Meatus, Deep-brown. Mango, Deep green. Croeta, Light-
red.
Surfaces (Solids): Pluvium, Dark-stone. Idus, Oak. Tela, Salmon.
Vesper, Pale-green. Velum, Chocolate. Lar, Brick-red.
227
———
MODEL 10. SECTION BETWEEN LAR AND VELUM.
Bu
ci
ps
na Murex
Da
s s
vu Mala oe
Ar
ct Al Pr
os Mœna Fa
Camœna
Orca
Tela
us
re
Pagina
sp
Id
Pactum
Pluvium
Ve
Li
xa
Portica Ve
na
x
ru
C Margo
l
Sa
s Silex
On
gu
ag
Pa
er
Points (Lines): Pagus, Dull-blue. Onager, Dark-pink. Vena, Pale-pink.

Lixa, Indigo. Arctos, Brown. Far, French-grey. Daps,
Dark-slate. Bucina, Green.
Lines (Surfaces): Silex, Burnt-sienna. Sal, Yellow-ochre. Portica,
Dun. Crux, Indian-red. Pagina, Yellow. Pactum, Yellow-
green. Orca, Dark-grey. Camœna, Deep-crimson. Mœna,
Dark-blue. Proes, Blue-green. Murex, Light-yellow. Alvus,
Vermilion.
Surfaces (Solids): Pluvium, Dark-stone. Idus, Oak. Tela, Salmon.
Vesper, Pale-green. Mala, Light-buff. Margo, Sage-green.
228
———
MODEL 11. SECTION BETWEEN VESPER AND IDUS.
ta
Li
mi
v or Mango
Se
s
Th L are Velum el
ol M
us Limbus Ca
ll
Murex
is
Portica
Tela
go
ar
a
al
M
M
Me Mœna
Silex
ns
ur
Pluvium
a Lorica Ca
p pa du
s
La Lar
ce
Sy
Cu
ca Lotus
sp
Lu
is
Points (Lines): Luca, Leaf-green. Cuspis, Orange. Cadus, Green-grey.

Mensura, Dark-purple. Tholus, Brown-green. Callis, Red-
dish. Semita, Leaden. Livor, Pale-yellow.
Lines (Surfaces): Lotus, Azure. Syce, Black. Lorica, Sea-blue. Lap-
pa, Bright-green. Silex, Burnt-sienna. Mœna, Dark-blue.
Murex, Light-yellow. Portica, Dun. Limbus, Ochre. Mel,
White. Mango, Deep-green. Lares, Light-grey.
Surfaces (Solids): Pluvium, Dark-stone. Mala, Light-buff. Tela, Sal-
mon. Margo, Sage-green. Velum, Chocolate. Lar, Brick-
red.
229
———
MODEL 12. SECTION BETWEEN PLUVIUM AND TELA.
Vi
er
a Iter
It
ta s
oe Velum tu
Le
ns Cr ea
a Lares M
Ca
lo
r
Proes
Alvus
Mala
us
re
sp
Id
Crux
Margo
Ve
Sal
Do
s Syce Bo
lu
a s
Lu Lar
la
Ol
ex Lappa
Ma
Op
pp
a
Points (Lines): Opex, Purple-brown. Mappa, Dull-green. Bolus,

Crimson. Dos, Blue. Lensa, Dark. Calor, Dark-green.
Iter, Bright-blue. Via, Deep-yellow.
Lines (Surfaces): Lappa, Bright-green. Olla, Rose. Syce, Black. Lus.
Bright-brown. Crux, Indian-red. Sal, Yellow-ochre. Proes,
Blue-green. Alvus, Vermilion. Lares, Light-grey. Meatus,
Deep-brown. Mel, White. Croeta, Light-red.
Surfaces (Solids): Margo, Sage-green. Idus, Oak. Mala, Light-buff.
Vesper, Pale-green. Velum, Chocolate. Lar, Brick-red.
230
EDITORIAL NOTE TO THE CELEPHAÏS PRESS EDITION
This edition of C. H. Hinton’s A New Era of Thought was OCR’d
and proofed from page images found online at the National
Library of Australia. All figures have been redrawn as vector art.
Pagination, layout and style has been conformed to the print
edition with a few minor exceptions, most notably the removal of
blank pages on the reverse of plates in Appendices H and K (the
six pages of cut-out figures were printed single-sided for obvious
reasons, and the twelve figures in Appendix K, while included in
the page numbering, appear in fact to have been printed as single-
sided plates). Figure 9 in Appendix K (p. 235 at original pagina-
tion) was missing in the NLA copy and is here restored based on
another copy, found online at the Internet Archive. The cover is
loosely based on the front board design from the original print
edition, replacing the Swann Sonnenschein coat of arms with the
Celephaïs Press logo.
The advertisement facing the title page for Hinton’s Scientific
Romances is loosely based on one which appeared in the original
print edition, which did not mention the novellas “Stella” and “An
Unfinished Communication” since these were first published in
1895 as Stella and an Unfinished Communication: Studies in the Unseen
and bound up with “The Education of the Imagination” and
“Many Dimensions” as a second collected volume of Scientific
Romances in 1896; their designation as part of that series may in fact
have been a piece of opportunism by the publisher who otherwise
did not have enough material to justify a second collected volume.
The editors in their introduction slightly gloss over the exact
reason why C. H. Hinton left the UK in 1886 to work as a teacher in
Japan. The previous year he had been sacked from his teaching
job and arrested for having unconventional domestic arrange-
ments; after failing to convince the English courts that Maude
231
232 Editorial Note.
Weldon and Mary Ellen Boole were simply two intrusions into our
three-dimensional universe of a single four-dimensional being, he
was briefly imprisoned and left the country shortly afterwards.
The student who does not have access to whatever paint cata-
logue Hinton used may be somewhat bemused by the elaborate
colour scheme used to represent the different regions of the
tesseract. In Hinton’s last major work, The Fourth Dimension (1904)
this was simplified to a 16-colour system; in A Language of Space, a
pamphlet issued around the same time and bound up with later
printings of The Fourth Dimension, the system of somewhat
arbitrary Latin names was replaced with a scheme of artificial
words where each letter referred to one dimension.
Besides the two volumes of Scientific Romances, an e-text of The
Fourth Dimension has been issued by Celephaïs Press. For links to
download or read online, visit celephaispress.blogspot.com
T.S.
Leeds, England
August 2009 E.V.

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Ex Libris

Fra. Tripud. Stell.

CHARLES HOWARD HINTON, M.A., OXON.

This work is in the public domain.

N.B. Models.—It is unquestionably a most important

AT the completion of a work, or at the completion of the first part

The reader must undertake this task, if he accepts it at all, as an

And in a few words I may state the general bearings of this

Secondly, in this progress from ordinary to higher matter, as a

THERE are no new truths in this book, but it consists

THE following pages have for their object to induce

NATURE is that which is around us. But it is by no

THERE are two elements which enter into our know-

BOTH in science and in morals there is an important

I MUST now go with somewhat of detail into the special

WE now pass on to the question: Are there any other

from the corners of a piece of paper two triangles, A B C

to a space or three-dimensional view, then either we are

IT is often taken for granted that our consciousness of

It is remarkable how in science “explaining” means

AT this point of our inquiries the best plan is to turn

WE have supposed in the case of a plane world that the

IN the instinctive and sense perception of man and

THE reader will doubtless ask for some definite result

First Series, No. II.

THE models consist of a set of eight and a set of four

BEFORE leaving the observation of the cube, it is well

HITHERTO we have only looked at Model 1. This, with

The colour of the cube itself is invisible, as it is

,, Brown ,, Yellow ,, Dull-blue ,,

,, Buff ,, Light-green ,, Blue-tint ,,

It will be noticed that besides the Vermilion square of

,, Brown ,, Yellow ,, Dull-blue ,,

,, Fawn ,, Smoke ,, Turquoise ,,

If we now take Model 3, we see that it has a Black

,, Crimson ,, Rose ,, Dull-green ,,

,, Fawn ,, Smoke ,, Turquoise ,,

This completes the enumeration of the regions of

IN order to obtain a clear conception of the higher

WE may now ask ourselves the best way of passing on

NAMING A PIECE OF SPACE.

Olus Seinita Lama

Bucina Musex Daps

Cista Cadus Crus

Thus the central or Light-buff cube is called Mala; the

Br D.Bl. D.Bl. D.Bl. F.Gr.

Br D.Bl. D.Bl. D.Bl. F.Gr.

Br D.Bl. D.Bl. D.Bl. F.Gr.

If we now consider Model 1 to represent a block, five

These names should be learnt so that the different

We pick out nine slabs to represent the Mœnas of

Now, it is evident that these slabs stand at different

(1) (2) (3)

G (á) F (â) (ã)

Merces Mora Tibicen Tyro Oliva Vestis

(1) Z (2) Z (3)

Urna Moles Saltus Ostrum Bidens Scena Comes Tibicen Vestis

TAKE the Block of twenty-seven Mala cubes, and build

WE now come to the essential difficulty of our task.

WE have now surveyed all the preliminary ground, and