6) A wife approaches her husband and caressingly speaks to him as she did not speak before. The husband is moved, but this is only because she has done something nasty. 7) Jean Grave,[292] “_L’individu et la Société_,” says that revolution will only then be fertile when _l’individu_ will be strong-willed, disinterested, good, ready to help his neighbour, will not be vain, will not condemn others, will have the consciousness of his own dignity, i.e., will have all the merits of a Christian. But how will he acquire these virtues if he knows that he is only an accidental chain of atoms? All these virtues are possible, are natural, in fact, their absence is impossible when there is a Christian world-point-of-view--that is, that we are sons of God sent to do His Will; but in a materialistic world-point-of-view these virtues are inconsistent. It is now past one. I am going downstairs. I am going to write to-morrow. _Feb. 6. Moscow. If I live._ _To-day, Feb. 19. Moscow._ It is long since I have made any entries.[293] At first I was ill. For about 5 days I have been better. During this time I was correcting, putting in things and spoiling the last chapters of _Art_. I decided to send away Carpenter with the introduction to _Sieverni Viestnik_. Was correcting the preface also. The general impression of this article “On Science” as well as that of the 20th chapter--is remorse.[294] I feel that it is right, that it is necessary, but it is painful that I hurt and grieve many good people who err. It is obvious that .0999 will not understand why and in the name of what I condemn science, and will be indignant. I should have done that with greater kindness. And in this I am guilty, but it is now too late. The last time I wrote, I expressed fear lest the carrying over of myself from this worldly life, the offending, the irritating one, into the life before God, the eternal life (now, here) which I experienced would become lost, would become calloused. But here 13 days have passed and I still feel this and felt it all the time and rejoiced and am rejoicing. Sometimes I begin to lay out patience, or hear an irritating conversation, contradiction, or am dissatisfied with my writing, with the condemnation of people, or I regret something--and suddenly I remember that it only seems so to me, because I am bent over searching on the floor, and it suffices to straighten up to my full height and everything that was disagreeable, irritating, not only vanishes, but helps the joys of triumph over my human weakness. I haven’t yet experienced this in strong physical suffering. Will it endure? It ought to endure. Help, Lord. Otherwise I am very joyous.