The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Eighth Lecture

[ 1 ] Those of you who have been attending these branch lectures for years may have noticed that they are not simply a random collection of topics, but that there has been a certain progression to them. Even within a single winter, the lectures always have a certain internal connection, even if this is not immediately apparent from the outside. Therefore, it is naturally of the utmost importance that consideration be given to the various courses taking place here alongside the actual branch meetings, which are designed to bring members who joined later up to the level of these branch lectures, so to speak; much of what is said here in these branch lectures cannot be readily understood from the outset by everyone who has just joined. But there is something else to note here that should gradually be taken into account in the various branches of our German Section. Since there is a certain internal progression in the lectures, it is my particular responsibility to structure each lecture so that it fits into the whole. It is therefore not possible to present the material addressed in such an individual branch lecture—intended for more advanced participants—in a way that would also apply in the same manner to those who have only recently joined. Of course, one could certainly speak about the same topic in a very basic way, but that would not be appropriate if a progressive course of development in our spiritual science branch life is envisaged, particularly within the branch itself. This, in turn, is related to the fact that the publication of lectures and the sharing of lecture content—even from one branch to another—should be avoided to the greatest extent possible, more and more so—and especially as we progress further. For the lectures I give in the branches are increasingly such that, for example, it really does matter whether one hears one lecture on one Monday and the next lecture on the following Monday. Even if it is not immediately clear to the listener why one lecture follows another, this is nonetheless important; and when lectures are circulated in this way, it is impossible to take into account what is actually at stake. Under certain circumstances, one lecture may be read before another, and it will inevitably be misunderstood, causing all sorts of confusion in people’s minds. This should be noted as something that is absolutely essential to our anthroposophical life. Whether a subordinate clause is inserted here or there, or whether a word is emphasized more or less here or there—this depends entirely on the overall development of the branch’s life. And only if the publication of the lectures is strictly monitored—so that, in essence, any publication that is not first submitted to me is refrained from—can anything beneficial come of this reproduction or publication of the lectures.

[ 2 ] In a certain sense, this also serves as a kind of introduction to the lectures that will soon be held here in our branch. There will be a certain inner coherence throughout the course of this winter’s lectures, and the preparatory material that will be gathered will ultimately—precisely in the context of this winter’s lectures—be directed toward a very specific climax, at which point it will find its conclusion. What was discussed here eight days ago marked a small beginning; what will be discussed today will be a sort of continuation. But “continuation” not in the sense of a serialized novel, where the thirty-eighth installment continues the thirty-seventh, but rather everything will have an inner connection, even if seemingly different subjects are addressed, and the connection will lie in the fact that the whole will then culminate in the final lectures. So today, with regard to the final lectures, we will already have something to say—albeit in outline form—about the nature of diseases, and next Monday we will discuss the origin, historical significance, and meaning of the “Ten Commandments.” This may seem, at first glance, as if these topics do not belong together at all; but you will eventually see how it all forms an internal connection and how it is not actually intended to be regarded as a self-contained lecture, as might otherwise very well be the case for a broader audience.

[ 3 ] Today we would like to speak a little about the nature of illness and diseases from the perspective of spiritual science. As a rule, people do not concern themselves with illness—or at least with this or that form of illness—until they are afflicted by this or that disease; and at that point, they are generally interested in little else but the cure—that is, they are interested in the fact that they will be cured. How they are cured is sometimes of the utmost indifference to them, and it is also most agreeable to them when they do not need to concern themselves further with this “how.” After all, that is what those people are there for—those who are employed by the relevant institutions for this very purpose—or so most of our contemporaries think. In this field, a far more pernicious belief in authority prevails in our contemporary culture than has ever prevailed in the religious sphere. The medical papacy—regardless of how it takes shape here or there—is one that has already asserted itself in the most intense way to this day and will assert itself even more so in the future. But the laity are by no small part to blame for the fact that this is the case or will become so. For people do not reflect on these matters or concern themselves with them unless their own lives are at stake, unless there is an acute situation in which they themselves are in need of healing. And so a large portion of the population watches with great indifference as the “medical papacy” takes on ever greater dimensions and entrencheds itself in the most diverse forms—for example, when it now has a say and intervenes on a massive scale in the education of children and in school life, while claiming a specific therapeutic approach for itself. People do not concern themselves with the deeper issues actually underlying all this. They simply watch as this or that measure is enacted in public, whether in the form of this or that law. They have no desire to gain any real insight into these matters. On the other hand, however, there will always be people who, when their lives are at stake and they cannot get by with conventional materialistic medicine—whose foundations they do not concern themselves with, caring only whether they are cured or not—will turn to those who operate on the basis of occultism—and yet, once again, they care only about whether they can be cured or not. They do not, however, concern themselves with whether the entire public life—in terms of methods and knowledge—is being completely undermined by a deeper method arising from the spiritual realm. Who cares if, in the case of a method that has grown out of occult foundations, the public prevents all healing in this area, or if the healer is imprisoned? All these things are simply not considered thoroughly enough; they are only considered when a specific case arises. But it is precisely the task of a true spiritual movement to awaken awareness that it cannot be merely a matter of the selfish search for healing, but rather of recognizing the deeper reasons behind these things and of spreading such understanding.

[ 4 ] In our age of materialism, it is only all too natural for those who can see through things that the study of diseases, in particular, is most profoundly influenced by materialistic thinking. But one will be just as mistaken if one chases after this or that catchphrase, attributing something special to this or that method, one would be just as mistaken in merely criticizing what, while based on scientific principles and useful in many respects, is embellished with materialistic theories, as one would be on the other hand in attempting to subsume everything under psychic healing and the like, thereby falling into all manner of one-sidedness. Above all, it must become ever clearer to humanity today that the human being is a complex being and that everything related to the human being has to do with this complexity of his nature. If a science holds the view that a human being consists solely of the physical body, then it cannot possibly intervene in any beneficial way in matters concerning the healthy or sick human being. For health and illness relate to the whole human being and not merely to one part of it, the physical body.

[ 5 ] However, one must not take this matter too lightly. Today you can easily find doctors who are fully recognized medical professionals and who will by no means admit to you that, in terms of their creed, they stand on materialistic ground, but rather profess this or that religious creed, and who would vehemently reject any accusation that they are imbued with a materialistic mindset. But that is not what matters. In life, what one says and what one is convinced of does not matter at all. That is a purely personal matter. What matters in one’s work is the ability to apply those facts that exist not only in the sensory world but also permeate and flow through the spiritual world, and to know how to make them fruitful for life. So even if a doctor is a deeply devout man and has many ideas about this or that spiritual world, if—in regard to what he does—he proceeds according to rules that are entirely derived from our materialistic worldview, if he treats patients as though there were only a physical body, then no matter how spiritually minded he may be according to his theory, he is a materialist. For what matters is not what a person says or believes, but whether he understands how to set the forces behind the outer sensory world into living motion. Nor is it enough for anthroposophy to spread the teaching that the human being consists of a fourfold being, and for everyone in the world to simply parrot that the human being consists of a physical body, an etheric body, an astral body, and an “I”—even if these things can be defined and described in a certain way. That, too, is not the essential point; rather, it is that the living interplay of these members of the human being be understood more and more deeply—that it be understood how the physical body, the etheric body, the astral body, and the “I,” along with what is reciprocally connected to these members, are involved in both the healthy and the sick human being. For example, anyone who never engages with what spiritual science has to offer regarding the nature of the fourth component of the human being—the “I”—can never, no matter how much anatomy and physiology they study, gain any insight into the nature of blood. That is quite impossible. Therefore, they can never, under any circumstances, say anything substantial or fruitful about the diseases related to the nature of blood. Blood is the expression of the human ego. And when Goethe’s words in Faust—“Blood is a very special sap”—resonate through the ages, they indeed convey a great deal. Modern science has no idea that, as researchers, we must approach physical blood in a completely different way than any other part of the human physical body, which is the expression of something entirely different. If the glands are the expression—the physical counterpart—of the etheric body, then we must also recognize, from a physical standpoint, that the composition of any gland—be it the liver or the spleen—is something entirely different from what we observe in the blood, which is the expression of a much higher aspect of the human being, namely the “I.” And the research methods that show us how to deal with these things must be based on this. Now I would like to say something that can really only be understood by the advanced anthroposophist, but which is important to state.

[ 6 ] Today, it seems perfectly natural to the materialistically minded scholar that when he makes an incision in the body, blood flows out, which can be examined using every available method. And now one describes it: this is blood—much as one would describe any other substance, such as an acid or something similar, using the chemical analytical methods employed in such cases. But there is one thing that is overlooked in this process—something that is not only unknown to materialistic science but must appear to it as sheer folly and fantasy, yet which is nonetheless true: The blood that flows through the veins, sustaining the living body, is not at all the same as what flows out when I make the incision and obtain a red drop. For at the very moment it leaves the body, the blood undergoes such a transformation that we can say it is something entirely different; and what flows out as coagulating blood—no matter how fresh it may be—is irrelevant to what constitutes the very essence of the living organism. Blood is the expression of the “I,” of a higher aspect of human beinghood. Even as a physical entity, blood is something you cannot physically examine in its entirety, because once you can see it, it is no longer the blood that flows through the body as it once was. It cannot be observed physically at all, for the moment it is exposed—when it reaches the point where it can be examined by methods similar to X-rays—one is no longer examining the blood itself, but rather what is merely the external reflection of the blood in the physical realm. These things will only gradually come to be understood. There have always been researchers in the world who, grounded in occultism, have said this, but they have been labeled as fantasists, philosophers, or something else.

[ 7 ] Now, in both healthy and sick people, everything is truly connected to the multi-faceted nature of the human being, to the complexity of the human being; and thus it is only through an understanding of the human being derived from spiritual science that one can arrive at a true understanding of the healthy or sick person. There are very specific impairments of human nature that can only be understood if we are aware that they are connected to the nature of the “I,” and in turn manifest themselves in a certain way—but within certain limits—in the expression of the “I,” in the blood. Then there are certain impairments in the human organism that can be traced to a disease of the astral body and which thereby affect the astral body’s outward expression—the nervous system. But now, simply by mentioning this second case, you must become somewhat aware of the subtlety with which one must think here. If a person’s astral body contains an irregularity such that it manifests in the nervous system—the external reflection of the astral body—then a certain inability of the nervous system to function properly first becomes physically apparent. If the nervous system is unable to function in a specific direction, all manner of disease symptoms may arise as a result of this inability: The stomach, head, and heart may become ill as a result. However, an illness that manifests symptoms in the stomach, for example, need not necessarily be attributable to an inability of the nervous system to function in a specific direction—and thus trace its origin to the astral body—but may stem from an entirely different source.

[ 8 ] Those forms of illness that are connected to the “I” itself—and thus to its outward expression, the blood—generally manifest as chronic illnesses—though only generally, for things in the world are not so neatly defined, even though one can draw sharp distinctions when examining them. What may initially be perceived as this or that impairment is usually a symptom. This or that symptom may appear, but underlying it may be a disturbance in the blood, and this has its origin in an irregularity in that part of the human being which we call the “I-bearer.” Now I could speak to you for hours about the forms of illness that manifest chronically and that, if we speak in physical terms, have their origin in the blood, and if we speak in spiritual terms, in the “I.” These are primarily the illnesses that are, in the true sense, hereditary, passing from one generation to the next. And it is these illnesses that can be understood only by those who view human nature from a spiritual perspective. Here comes this or that person who is chronically ill—that is, who is, in essence, never truly healthy; now this, now that arises; he feels this or that discomfort. The task here is to look more deeply into the root of the matter and, above all, to pay attention to this: What is the actual fundamental character of the “I” like? What kind of person is this, really? Anyone who truly knows something in this field in accordance with life can say that very specific forms of chronic illness are connected to this or that purely psychological fundamental character of the “I.” Certain chronic illnesses will never occur in a person who is inclined toward seriousness and dignity, whereas they may well occur in a person who is inclined toward whistling and singing. This can only be hinted at here, to point the way forward in these introductory lectures.

[ 9 ] But you see, when someone comes along and says, “I’ve actually had this or that for years,” a great deal depends on first figuring out: What kind of person is this, anyway? One must know the fundamental character traits of their being; otherwise, one will inevitably fail in conventional medical treatment, unless a peculiar coincidence leads to a different outcome. The essential point is that with these diseases—which are, in the most eminent sense, those that are hereditary in the true sense of the word—one must take into account the person’s entire environment with regard to healing, insofar as it can exert a direct or indirect influence on their “I.” Once one has truly come to know a person in this way, one will sometimes have to conclude that the person should perhaps be placed in this or that natural environment, or in this or that setting during the winter, if possible; or that one should advise the person, if they are in a particular profession, to change careers, so that they may seek out this or that aspect of life. Here, then, the primary concern will be to seek what is right in terms of what can exert precisely the right influence on the character of the “I.” In particular, the healer must have a broad life experience so that he can empathize with the nature of the person and say: “In order to be healed, this person must change his profession.” The point here is to emphasize what is necessary with regard to human nature. Perhaps, in this very field, healing will sometimes fail precisely because this cannot be carried out at all; but in many cases it can be carried out, if only it is known. For example, a great deal can be achieved for some people simply by having them live in the mountains instead of on the plains. These are matters that pertain to illnesses which manifest externally as chronic diseases and which are physically related to the nature of the blood and spiritually to the nature of the ego.

[ 10 ] We will now turn our attention to those diseases that have their origin—spiritually speaking—in irregularities of the astral body and that manifest themselves in specific impairments of the nervous system in one direction or another. Now, a large portion of common acute illnesses is precisely related to what has just been discussed; in fact, most acute illnesses are related to it. For it is a superstition to often assume that when someone suffers from a stomach or heart ailment—or even when they have this or that clearly perceptible irregularity here or there—they will be properly cured by addressing that specific symptom directly. The crux of the matter may be that this symptom is present because the nervous system is unable to function. Thus, the heart may be diseased simply because the nervous system has become incapable of functioning in the way it is supposed to—namely, by supporting the heart’s movement. In such cases, it is completely unnecessary to mistreat the heart—or, in another instance, the stomach—which, fundamentally speaking, is not directly deficient, but rather the nerves that are supposed to supply it are simply unable to perform their function. If, in such a case of stomach illness, the stomach is treated with hydrochloric acid, one makes the same mistake as with a locomotive that is always late—where one says to oneself, “There must be something wrong with the locomotive,” and starts hammering away at it—but it still doesn’t arrive on time. In reality, if one were to get to the bottom of the matter, one would find that the engineer gets drunk every time before the train is due to depart; one would therefore be on the right track if one started with the engineer, for otherwise the locomotive would indeed arrive on time. So it may well be that, in cases of stomach ailments, instead of starting with the stomach, one must intervene with the nerves that supply the stomach. You may also find various such observations in materialistic medicine. But it doesn’t matter if someone says that when the stomach shows a symptom of illness, one must first turn to the nerve. For that, again, accomplishes nothing. Something has only been accomplished when one knows that the nerve is an expression of the astral body, that one can trace the issue back to the structure of the astral body, and seek the causes in the irregularities of the astral body. The question then arises: What, then, is the key factor here?

[ 11 ] First of all, the treatment of such illnesses will involve what is known as diet—that is, ensuring the proper combination of foods and what a person consumes. In other words, what matters is one’s way of life—not in terms of outward appearance, but in terms of what is to be digested and processed by the human body—and this is something that no one can ever know on the basis of a purely materialistic science. We must be clear that everything around us in the vast world—the macrocosm—is connected to our complex inner being, the microcosm; that is, every foodstuff that can be found stands in a very specific relationship to what is within our organism. We have, after all, come to know well how humanity has undergone a long evolution, and how the entire external natural world has been formed as an outgrowth of humanity. Time and again, in our various reflections, we have gone back as far as the ancient Saturn era. There we found that on ancient Saturn there was nothing else but humanity itself, and that, as it were, humanity—human evolution—excreted the other kingdoms of nature: the plant kingdom, the animal kingdom, and so on. In the course of this evolution, human beings formed their organs in a way that corresponded exactly to what was excreted through them. Even the excretion of the mineral kingdom gave rise to very specific internal organs. The heart could not have developed if certain plants, minerals, and mineral potentials had not formed externally over the course of time. Now, what has thus arisen externally stands in a certain relationship to what has formed internally. And only those who understand the relationship between the external and the internal can determine, in each individual case, how the external—the macrocosmic—can be applied to the microcosmic; otherwise, people will experience, in a certain sense, that they are forcing something into themselves that is not at all suited to them. It is therefore in spiritual science that we must seek the true grounds upon which our judgment can be based. It is always a superficial judgment when, in the case of illness, a person’s diet is to be determined according to purely external laws derived from statistics or chemistry. Here, entirely different factors are at play. Thus we see how spiritual insight must permeate and illuminate everything that pertains to the healthy and sick human being.

[ 12 ] Then there are certain forms of disease that take on a character that is partly chronic and partly acute, but which are now connected to the human etheric body and therefore find their expression in the human glandular organs. As a rule, these diseases actually have nothing to do with what is called heredity—inheritance across generations—but they do have a great deal to do with the national context, with the racial and tribal context found in the human world. Thus, when dealing with diseases that originate in the etheric body and manifest as glandular disorders, we must always consider the question: Does a Russian have this disease, or an Italian, a Norwegian, or a French person?—For these diseases are connected to national character and therefore manifest quite differently. For example, a major mistake is made in the medical field: throughout Western Europe, a completely erroneous view is held regarding tabes, or spinal tuberculosis. While it is correctly assessed for the Western European population, it is entirely incorrect for the Eastern European population, because there it has a completely different origin; for even today, these things still vary in the most diverse ways. Now you will understand that, given the mixing of populations, this requires a certain broader perspective. Only those who know how to distinguish the inner aspects of human nature can form a judgment on this at all. Today, these diseases are simply treated externally, lumped together with acute illnesses, whereas they actually belong to an entirely different category. Above all, one thing must be understood: that the human organs, which are under the influence of the etheric body and can become diseased due to irregularities in the etheric body, are related to one another in very specific ways. For example, there is a very specific relationship between a person’s heart and brain, and this can be expressed—albeit more figuratively—in such a way that one can say: this mutual relationship between the heart and the brain corresponds to the relationship between the sun and the moon—with the heart representing the sun and the brain the moon. This brings us to the point that we must be clear: when, for example, a disease occurs in the heart—insofar as it is rooted in the etheric body—it must have a reciprocal effect on the brain, just as when something happens to the sun—such as an eclipse—it must have a reciprocal effect on the moon. It is no different at all, for these things are directly connected.

[ 13 ] In occult medicine, these things are also described by applying the images of the celestial bodies to the arrangement of the various human organs: the heart as the Sun, the brain as the Moon, the spleen as Saturn, the liver as Jupiter, the gallbladder as Mars, the kidneys as Venus, and the lungs as Mercury. When you study the mutual relationships of the celestial bodies, you gain an understanding of the mutual relationships of the human organs, insofar as they are located in the etheric body. It is impossible for the gallbladder to become diseased—a condition that must therefore be sought spiritually within the etheric body—without this disease affecting, in some way, the organs just mentioned; specifically, if the gallbladder has been designated as Mars, the effect is the same as the influence of Mars in our planetary system. Thus, one must understand the interrelationships among the organs when dealing with a disease of the etheric body; yet these are primarily the diseases—and you will see from this that any one-sidedness in the occult field must be avoided—for which specific remedies must be applied. This is where the remedies come in that you find in plants and minerals. For what belongs to plants and minerals has a profound significance for what belongs to the human etheric body. So when we know that a disease has its origin in the etheric body and therefore manifests itself in a certain way in the glandular system, we must find the remedy that can properly restore and repair the complex interplay of forces. This is particularly true for those diseases where one must first consider—and this is, of course, the main point—that they originate in the etheric body; second, that they are connected to the national character; and third, that the organs interact regularly in these cases. It is only in such cases that specific remedies can be used as treatments.

[ 14 ] Now you may have formed the following idea: Yes, if you have to send a person here or there, then as a rule, if they are tied to a profession and cannot carry out certain tasks, you cannot help them. This is indeed where the psychotherapy method proves effective in every case. What is called psychotherapy is most effective when the illness must be sought in the person’s true self. So when a chronic illness of this kind arises—one that is, in some way, rooted in the blood—then psychotherapeutic remedies come into their own. And if they are applied correctly, they can—through their effect on the “I”—serve as a fully valid substitute for what flows into the person from the outside. You will be able to perceive a subtle, inner connection everywhere if you observe what the human soul can experience when, for example, it is otherwise bound to a vice and can now, for a brief moment, enjoy the fresh country air. Thus, the joy that uplifts the soul through feelings is something we can call a psychical method in the broadest sense. Now, if the healer applies his method correctly, he can gradually replace this through his personal influence, and psychological methods are most justified in treating this form of illness—a fact that cannot be overlooked, since the majority of illnesses stem from an irregularity in the “I” aspect of the human being.

[ 15 ] We now turn to the illnesses caused by irregularities in the astral body. In such cases, however, purely psychological methods—even though they are applicable—lose much of their value; for this reason, these methods are also less commonly used for these illnesses. This is where dietary therapy comes into play. It is only in the case of the illnesses we have designated as the third type that it is actually justified to support the healing process with external medical remedies. Thus, when one considers the human being in all his complexity, the approach to healing must also be comprehensive, and one must not fall into one-sidedness.

[ 16 ] What is still missing is a discussion of the actual diseases that originate in the physical body itself and relate to the physical body—and these are the true infectious diseases. This is an important chapter, and we will examine it in more detail in one of the upcoming lectures, once we have first considered the true, proper origin of the “Ten Commandments.” For you will see that these things are indeed connected. Today, therefore, I can only point out that this fourth form of disease exists and that, at its deepest level, it depends on an understanding of the whole of nature, with which the human physical body is connected. It is not the physical that is the foundation here, but rather, once again, the spiritual. Once we have examined this fourth form of illness, we will still not have exhausted all essential illnesses; rather, we will see that human karma also plays a role here. This is a fifth factor that must be taken into account.

[ 17 ] Thus we will say: Little by little, something will be revealed to us about the five different forms of human illness—illnesses that originate in the realm of the ego, in the realm of the astral body, the etheric body, or the physical body—and what aspect of these illnesses should be regarded as karmic. Only then can healing take place in relation to the medical mindset, and only then can the entire medical mindset be permeated by an understanding of the higher aspects of human nature. Until then, we are not dealing with a form of medicine that can truly intervene in the very heart of the matter. Although these things, like many of our occult insights, must be brought up to date and given a modern form, you must not believe that this is not, in a certain sense, an ancient wisdom.

[ 18 ] Medicine originated from spiritual insight and has become increasingly materialistic. And perhaps in no other science is it as evident as in medicine just how materialism has taken hold of humanity. In earlier times, there was at least an awareness that an understanding of the fourfold nature of the human being is necessary if one wishes to look into it. Of course, materialism had already made itself evident earlier, so that clairvoyant individuals in this field had already observed—even before the last four centuries—how everything around them was beginning to be thought of in materialistic terms; and Paracelsus, who is not understood today and is regarded as a fantasist or dreamer, pointed out quite clearly, for example, that all around him, medical science—as it originated in Salerno, Montpellier, and Paris—and as it had also taken root in certain German regions—was materialistic or, at the very least, was increasingly heading in that direction. And it was precisely Paracelsus’s worldview that made it seem necessary to him—as it is becoming necessary again today—to draw attention to how a medical perspective grounded in the spirit contrasts with what is gained in the purely materialistic realm. Today it is perhaps even more difficult than it was for Paracelsus to make headway with a Paracelsian way of thinking. For back then, the materialistic thinking in medicine did not stand in such stark and alien contrast to Paracelsus’s thinking as materialistic science does today—devoid of any understanding and opposed to any insight into the truly spiritual nature of the human being. Therefore, what Paracelsus himself said in this regard still applies to us today, although its significance is less widely recognized now. When one observes how those who work at the dissection table or in the laboratory think about these matters today, and how research is used to understand both healthy and sick people, one might well, in a certain sense, turn against this materialistic way of thinking in much the same way as Paracelsus did. However, one may not be permitted to quote a few words with any hope of understanding—and perhaps also of forgiveness—as Paracelsus did in reference to the physicians living around him; indeed, with the genuine hope of forgiveness, for Paracelsus himself said, he was not a refined and subtle man who had lived at the tables of the upper classes; he was of coarse nature, raised on cheese, milk, and oat bread; and therefore you will surely forgive me if these things do not always sound very refined. — Paracelsus says this about the Italian physicians, but also about the German physicians, when he discusses the various natures of disease:

[ 19 ] “For it is a great delusion, and a bad sign, that so many French physicians—especially those in Montpellier, Salerno, and Paris—who want to be the best of all and despise everyone, yet themselves know and can do nothing; rather, it is publicly known that their talk and pomp are the sum total of their art—that is, their idle chatter. They are not ashamed to administer enemas and purgatives; even if it leads to death, everything must turn out all right. And they boast of their great anatomy, which they possess and employ, and yet have never seen that tartar hangs on the teeth, let alone anything else. These are fine ophthalmologists—they dare not hold a mirror up to their noses. What is your sight and your anatomy? You can’t do a damn thing with them, and you don’t have enough eyes to see what’s really there. Such things are also boasted about by the German quacks—the so-called doctors, the “seen thieves,” and the like—and young, hatched fools; once they’ve seen it all, they know less than before. So they suffocate in filth and carcasses, and afterward the Lapps go to the requiem—they should go to the people instead!”