“It fills all Space,” continued the little soliloquizing creature, “and what It fills, It is. What It thinks, that It utters; and what It utters, that It hears; and It itself is thinker, utterer, hearer, thought, word, audition; it is the One, and yet the All in All. Ah, the happiness ah, the happiness of being!”
“Can you not startle the little thing out of its complacency?” said I. “Tell it what it really is, as you told me; reveal to it the narrow limitations of Pointland, and lead it up to something higher.”
“That is no easy task,” said my master; “try you.”
Hereon, raising my voice to the uttermost, I addressed the Point as follows:
“Silence, silence, contemptible creature. You call yourself the All in All, but you are the nothing: your so-called Universe is a mere speck in a Line, and a Line is a mere shadow as compared with—”
“Hush, hush, you have said enough,” interrupted the Sphere, “now listen, and mark the effect of your harangue