become　jealous　of　a　being；　and　nevermore　could　I　re…establish
  with　him　simple　human　relations；　and　my　eyes　flashed　when　I
  looked　at　him。
  〃As　for　my　wife；　so　many　times　had　I　enveloped　her　with　this
  moral　vitriol；　with　this　jealous　hatred；　that　she　was　degraded
  thereby。　　In　the　periods　of　this　causeless　hatred　I　gradually
  uncrowned　her。　　I　covered　her　with　shame　in　my　imagination。
  〃I　invented　impossible　knaveries。　　I　suspected；　I　am　ashamed　to
  say；　that　she；　this　queen　of　'The　Thousand　and　One　Nights；'
  deceived　me　with　my　serf；　under　my　very　eyes；　and　laughing　at　me。
  Thus；　with　each　new　access　of　jealousy　（I　speak　always　of
  causeless　jealousy）；　I　entered　into　the　furrow　dug　formerly　by　my
  filthy　suspicions；　and　I　continually　deepened　it。　　She　did　the
  same　thing。　　If　I　have　reasons　to　be　jealous；　she　who　knew　my
  past　had　a　thousand　times　more。　　And　she　was　more　ill…natured　in
  her　jealousy　than　I。　　And　the　sufferings　that　I　felt　from　her
  jealousy　were　different；　and　likewise　very　painful。
  〃The　situation　may　be　described　thus。　　We　are　living　more　or　less
  tranquilly。　　I　am　even　gay　and　contented。　　Suddenly　we　start　a
  conversation　on　some　most　commonplace　subject；　and　directly　she
  finds　herself　disagreeing　with　me　upon　matters　concerning　which
  we　have　been　generally　in　accord。　　And　furthermore　I　see　that；
  without　any　necessity　therefor；　she　is　becoming　irritated。　　I
  think　that　she　has　a　nervous　attack；　　or　else　that　the　subject　of
  conversation　is　really　disagreeable　to　her。　　We　talk　of　something
  else；　and　that　begins　again。　　Again　she　torments　me；　and　becomes
  irritated。　　I　am　astonished　and　look　for　a　reason。　　Why？　　For
  what？　　She　keeps　silence；　answers　me　with　monosyllables；
  evidently　making　allusions　to　something。　　I　begin　to　divine　that
  the　reason　of　all　this　is　that　I　have　taken　a　few　walks　in　the
  garden　with　her　cousin；　to　whom　I　did　not　give　even　a　thought。　　I
  begin　to　divine；　but　I　cannot　say　so。　　If　I　say　so；　I　confirm　her
  suspicions。　　I　interrogate　her；　I　question　her。　　She　does　not
  answer；　but　she　sees　that　I　understand；　and　that　confirms　her
  suspicions。
  〃'What　is　the　matter　with　you？'　I　ask。
  〃'Nothing；　I　am　as　well　as　usual；'　she　answers。
  〃And　at　the　same　time；　like　a　crazy　woman；　she　gives　utterance　to
  the　silliest　remarks；　to　the　most　inexplicable　explosions　of
  spite。
  〃Sometimes　I　am　patient；　but　at　other　times　I　break　out　with
  anger。　　Then　her　own　irritation　is　launched　forth　in　a　flood　of
  insults；　in　charges　of　imaginary　crimes　and　all　carried　to　the
  highest　degree　by　sobs；　tears；　and　retreats　through　the　house　to
  the　most　improbable　spots。　　I　go　to　look　for　her。　　I　am　ashamed
  before　people；　before　the　children；　but　there　is　nothing　to　be
  done。　　She　is　in　a　condition　where　I　feel　that　she　is　ready　for
  anything。　　I　run；　and　finally　find　her。　　Nights　of　torture
  follow；　in　which　both　of　us；　with　exhausted　nerves；　appease　each
  other；　after　the　most　cruel　words　and　accusations。
  〃Yes；　jealousy；　causeless　jealousy；　is　the　condition　of　our
  debauched　conjugal　life。　　And　throughout　my　marriage　never　did　I
  cease　to　feel　it　and　to　suffer　from　it。　　There　were　two　periods
  in　which　I　suffered　most　intensely。　　The　first　time　was　after　the
  birth　of　our　first　child；　when　the　doctors　had　forbidden　my　wife
  to　nurse　it。　　I　was　particularly　jealous；　in　the　first　place；
  because　my　wife　felt　that　restlessness　peculiar　to　animal　matter
  when　the　regular　course　of　life　is　interrupted　without　occasion。
  But　especially　was　I　jealous　because；　having　seen　with　what
  facility　she　had　thrown　off　her　moral　duties　as　a　mother；　I
  concluded　rightly；　though　unconsciously；　that　she　would　throw　off
  as　easily　her　conjugal　duties；　feeling　all　the　surer　of　this
  because　she　was　in　perfect　health；　as　was　shown　by　the　fact　that；
  in　spite　of　the　prohibition　of　the　dear　doctors；　she　nursed　her
  following　children；　and　even　very　well。〃
  〃I　see　that　you　have　no　love　for　the　doctors；〃　said　I；　having
  noticed　Posdnicheff's　extraordinarily　spiteful　expression　of　face
  and　tone　of　voice　whenever　he　spoke　of　them。
  〃It　is　not　a　question　of　loving　them　or　of　not　loving　them。　　They
  have　ruined　my　life；　as　they　have　ruined　the　lives　of　thousands
  of　beings　before　me；　and　I　cannot　help　connecting　the　consequence
  with　the　cause。　　I　conceive　that　they　desire；　like　the　lawyers
  and　the　rest；　to　make　money。　　I　would　willingly　have　given　them
  half　of　my　incomeand　any　one　would　have　done　it　in　my　place；
  understanding　what　they　doif　they　had　consented　not　to　meddle
  in　my　conjugal　life；　and　to　keep　themselves　at　a　distance。　　I
  have　compiled　no　statistics；　but　I　know　scores　of　casesin
  reality；　they　are　innumerablewhere　they　have　killed；　now　a
  child　in　its　mother's　womb；　asserting　positively　that　the　mother
  could　not　give　birth　to　it　（when　the　mother　could　give　birth　to
  it　very　well）；　now　mothers；　under　the　pretext　of　a　so…called
  operation。　　No　one　has　counted　these　murders；　just　as　no　one
  counted　the　murders　of　the　Inquisition；　because　it　was　supposed
  that　they　were　committed　for　the　benefit　of　humanity。
  Innumerable　are　the　crimes　of　the　doctors！　　But　all　these　crimes
  are　nothing　compared　with　the　materialistic　demoralization　which
  they　introduce　into　the　world　through　women。　　I　say　nothing　of
  the　fact　that；　if　it　were　to　follow　their　advice；thanks　to　the
  microbe　which　they　see　everywhere；humanity；　instead　of　tending
  to　union；　would　proceed　straight　to　complete　disunion。
  Everybody；　according　to　their　doctrine；　should　isolate　himself；
  and　never　remove　from　his　mouth　a　syringe　filled　with　phenic　acid
  （moreover；　they　have　found　out　now　that　it　does　no　good）。　　But　I
  would　pass　over　all　these　things。　　The　supreme　poison　is　the
  perversion　of　people；　especially　of　women。　　One　can　no　longer　say
  now：　'You　live　badly；　live　better。'　One　can　no　longer　say　it
  either　to　himself　or　to　others；　for；　if　you　live　badly　（say　the
  doctors）；　the　cause　is　in　the　nervous　system　or　in　something
  similar；　and　it　is　necessary　to　go　to　consult　them；　and　they　will
  prescribe　for　you　thirty…five　copecks'　worth　of　remedies　to　be
  bought　at　the　drug…store；　and　you　must　swallow　them。　　Your
  condition　grows　worse？　　Again　to　the　doctors；　and　more　remedies！
  An　excellent　business！
  〃But　to　return　to　our　subject。　　I　was　saying　that　my　wife　nursed
  her　children　well；　that　the　nursing　and　the　gestation　of　the
  children；　and　the　children　in　general；　quieted　my　tortures　of
  jealousy；　but　that；　on　the　other　hand；　they　provoked　torments　of
  a　different　sort。
  CHAPTER　XVI。
  〃The　children　came　rapidly；　one　after　another；　and　there
  happened　what　happens　in　our　society　with　children　and　doctors。
  Yes；　children；　maternal　love；　it　is　a　painful　thing。　　Children；
  to　a　woman　of　our　society；　are　not　a　joy；　a　pride；　nor　a
  fulfilment　of　her　vocation；　but　a　cause　of　fear；　anxiety；　and
  interminable　suffering；　torture。　　Women　say　it；　they　think　it；
  and　they　feel　it　too。　　Children　to　them　are　really　a　torture；　not
  because　they　do　not　wish　to　give　birth　to　them；　nurse　them；　and
  care　for　them　（women　with　a　strong　maternal　instinctand　such
  was　my　wifeare　ready　to　do　that）；　but　because　the　children　may
  fall　sick　and　die。　　They　do　not　wish　to　give　birth　to　them；　and
  then　not　love　them；　and　when　they　love；　they　do　not　wish　to　feel
  fear　for　the　child's　health　and　life。　　That　is　why　they　do　not
  wish　to　nurse　them。　　'If　I　nurse　it；'　they　say；　'I　shall　become
  too　fond　of　it。'　　One　would　think　that　they　preferred
  india…rubber　children；　which　could　neither　be　sick　nor　die；　and
  could　always　be　repaired。　　What　an　entanglement　in　the　brains　of
  these　poor　women！　　Why　such　abominations　to　avoid　pregnancy；　and
  to　avoid　the　love　of　the　little　ones？
  〃Love；　the　most　joyous　condition　of　the　soul；　is　represented　as　a
  danger。　　And　why？　　Because；　when　a　man　does　not　live　as　a　man；　he
  is　worse　than　a　beast。　　A　woman　cannot　look　upon　a　child
  otherwise　than　as　a　pleasure。　　It　is　true　that　it　is　painful　to
  give　birth　to　it；　but　what　little　hands！　。　。　。　　Oh；　the　little
  hands！　　Oh；　the　little　feet！　　Oh；　its　smile！　　Oh；　its　little
  body！　Oh；　its　prattle！　　Oh；　its　hiccough！　　In　a　word；　it　is　a
  feeling　of　animal；　sensual　maternity。　　But　　as　for　any　idea　as　to
  the　mysterious　significance　of　the　appearance　of　a　new　human
  being　to　replace　us；　there　is　scarcely　a　sign　of　it。
  〃Nothing　of　it　appears　in　all　that　is　said　and　done。　　No　one　has
  any　faith　now　in　a　baptism　of　the　child；　and　yet　that　was　nothing
  but　a　reminder　of　the　human　significance　of　the　newborn　babe。
  〃They　have　rejected　all　that；　but　they　have　not　replaced　it；　and
  there　remain　only　the　dresses；　the　laces；　the　little　hands；　the
  little　feet；　and　whatever　exists　in　the　animal。　　But　the　animal
  has　neither　imagination；　nor　foresight；　nor　reason；　nor　a　doctor。
  No！　not　even　a　doctor！　　The　chicken　droops　its　head；　overwhelmed；
  or　the　calf　dies；