Without the darkness light cannot be known; To know truth, falsehood must be overthrown. Peace without effort would be death to thee; Nought but the battle leads to victory. Without a struggle there’s no joy in rest; Only through evil good can manifest. Without the dust of earth no plant will grow, And no one rise who never fell below. Nought comes from nought, and no amount of toil Will raise a fruit tree from a barren soil; But the good seed within the hot-bed needs No other help but rooting out the weeds. Knowledge is power, but it serves you naught, Unless you practise that which you were taught; Toil without knowledge is a fruitless tree, Science unused is naught but theory. Knowledge is power, but remember well You must yourself destroy the magic spell; And Lucifer, who came but to redeem, Redeems you only if you conquer him.” Thus the queen of the Lotus ended her song, and floated away with her companions. The last I saw of them was a roseate light shining from the mouth of the tunnel. I then fell asleep myself, and slept until I was awakened by the blowing of horns, the blast of trumpets, and beating of drums, calling the troops together for a renewal of the fight, and those who were so inclined got up and joined the ranks. I went to the princess, and found her to be in a pensive mood, while her loquaciousness was less than usually active--a circumstance which I attributed to the visit of the fairies. I asked her whether she had experienced a pleasant dream. “I do not believe in dreams,” she answered. “Scientists never attribute any importance to dreams or to subjective experiences; our attention is fully engaged by the objective realities of life.” “Confound your false science!” I said. “It deals, after all, with nothing but appearances and dreams. The fairies seemed to me very objective.” “So you saw them?” replied Adalga. “Perhaps it was your thought-transfer which caused that hallucination.” “Let it be what it may,” I said. “It is of little importance from what we receive a lesson; the lesson itself is that which we ought to consider.” “We are not in the habit of accepting lessons,” she answered, “unless they come from some well-recognised authority.” To this I answered: “Truth is truth, no matter by whom it is uttered.” “Prove it!” exclaimed the princess, and as I remained silent, she continued, sneeringly: “If we are asked to listen to a theory, the first thing is to inquire about the claims for credibility of him who puts them forth. Upon what authority does his assertion rest? What books can he quote for the support of his opinion? If all this is settled, we may listen to his proofs, and decide whether we will accept them or not.” I groaned. “Alas!” I said; “in your science it is all creed, but no perception of truth.”