Thus I went on moralising, and wondered what my real Ego was, and whether it had anything at all to do with what seemed to be myself. I wished to know whether I--that is to say, my real self--was; for what purpose I was in the world, and where I had been before I entered the world, and what that was which caused me to be born, and whether I would be born again after I--that is to say, my body--had been dissected. Alas, for all these questions Cracker’s science had no answer to give, and I envied the gnomes who had the ability to dissolve and condense into bodies at will. The darkness was very oppressive, and I wished that I could be self-luminous like a gnome, and not be dependent upon an external light for the purpose of seeing. I wondered whether, perhaps, after the dissection of my body, my spirit would have a light of its own, or whether Bimbam was right when he pronounced the suggestive word, “Empty!” Then something, of which I do not know what it was, made me think that the worst thing anybody could possibly do was to doubt or deny the presence of a spiritual light within himself, and while I studied as to what may be that which made me think so, I came to the conclusion that it was my own spirit reminding me of its presence, and this was a more convincing proof to me that I actually had a spirit than all the arguments offered to the contrary by Professor Cracker and his ilk. With this conviction a great deal of calmness and satisfaction came over me. At the same time the darkness grew less in intensity; a silvery mist, tinged with blue, arose like the dawn that precedes the rising sun; the light grew stronger and condensed in a luminous ball, and the next instant the princess stood before me. “Dearest Adalga!” I said, “where have you been so long, and why did you leave me alone in this horrible darkness?” To this the princess answered, “Truth never departs, but error always attracts us. Never for an instant have I deserted you; I was with you and around you all the time, but you kept your eyes closed and refused to see.” “On the contrary,” I replied, “I strained my eyes to look through the darkness, but there was nothing.” “You strained your eyes,” answered the princess, “for the purpose of seeing my form, which was not formed, and which could not be seen; but you made no effort to see that which is without form, but which may be seen with the inner eye. Know, my beloved, that when you see my form you do not see me, and when you do not see my form you may see me in truth.” “This,” I said, “is contrary to all the doctrines of our science, which teaches that we can see nothing whatever unless it has a shape of some kind.” “The eye of science sees only the outward form,” answered Adalga; “but the eye of wisdom sees the reality itself.”