"The germ acts on the cell, as Lancereaux has pointed out, in the same way as a spermatozoon. It is a micro-organism which penetrates the tissue, and selects and impregnates it, sets it vibrating, gives it /another life./ But the exciting agent of this intracellular activity, instead of being the normal germ of life, is a parasite." He went on to describe the process minutely and in highly scientific terms, and ended up by saying: "The cancerous tissue never achieves full development. It keeps on without ever reaching a limit. Yes, cancer, in the strictest sense of the word, is infinite in our organism." The young doctor bowed assent, and then said: "Perhaps--no doubt--we shall succeed in time in curing all diseases. Everything can change. We shall find the proper method for preventing what we cannot stop when it has once begun. And it is then only that we shall dare to tell the ravages due to the spread of incurable diseases. Perhaps we shall even succeed in finding cures for certain incurable affections. The remedies have not had time to prove themselves. We shall cure others--that is certain--but we shall not cure him." His voice deepened. Then he asked: "Is he a Russian or a Greek?" "I do not know. I see so much into the inside of people that their outsides all look alike to me." "They are especially alike in their vile pretense of being dissimilar and enemies." The young man seemed to shudder, as if the idea aroused a kind of passion in him. He rose, full of anger, changed. "Oh," he said, "what a disgraceful spectacle humanity presents. In spite of its fearful wounds, humanity makes war upon humanity. We who deal with the sores afflicting mankind are struck more than others by all the evil men involuntarily inflict upon one another. I am neither a politician nor a propagandist. It is not my business to occupy myself with ideas. I have too much else to do. But sometimes I am moved by a great pity, as lofty as a dream. Sometimes I feel like punishing men, at other times, like going down on my knees to them." The old doctor smiled sadly at this vehemence, then his smile vanished at the thought of the undeniable outrage. "Unfortunately you are right. With all the misery we have to suffer, we tear ourselves with our own hands besides--the war of the classes, the war of the nations, whether you look at us from afar or from above, we are barbarians and madmen." "Why, why," said the young doctor, who was getting excited, "why do we continue to be fools when we recognise our own folly?" The old practitioner shrugged his shoulders, as he had a few moments before when they spoke of incurable diseases.