Page:The Spirit of Russia by T G Masaryk, volume 2.pdf/68

42 futility of revolution. My impression is that Černyševskii's biographers are extremely concerned because Černyševskii, the Siberian exile, and the Černyševskii who returned to Russia, was no more (as the phrase runs) than the shadow of his former self. It has even been affirmed that in Siberia, Černyševskii became mentally disordered.

The impression produced on my own mind by the available data is that Černyševskii's mental health was perfectly sound both in exile and afterwards, but that he was none the less broken by Siberia. Černyševskii was a publicist and politician, a man whose intellectual faculties were kept alive by a daily pabulum of new material. When he was isolated and cut off from the outer world, he lacked energy to enable him to busy himself with theoretical questions or solve theoretical problems. As theorist and thinker, he was not so great a man as has been contended. Not merely did he adopt Feuerbach's views quite uncritically, not merely did he fail to see through the weaknesses of materialism, but when he discussed important questions of detail he failed to deal with them in the exhaustive manner demanded by his own doctrine of the supremacy of positive science. It seems to me characteristic that he attempted no scientific discussion of the problems of socialism; he lacked power for the independent treatment of economic questions, and was content with writing notes on Mill.

An examination of his literary activities in Siberia confirms this judgment. Let us recall how some of the decabrists worked in Siberia, how they continued to cultivate their minds. Černyševskii produced a few belletristic pieces, but displayed no inclination to undertake any difficult literary task. Černyševskii was no more than thirty-six when his exile began, and I contend that had he possessed a really vigorous interest in science, that interest would not have been annulled by the unfavourable conditions of Siberia.

After his return, Černyševskii translated the fat tomes of Weber's Universal History, adding a comment here and there. The choice of this book is in itself an indication of weakness in the intellectual sphere, but we must not forget that it was made after more than twenty years in prison and in Siberia.

From the very opening of his career, Černyševskii was a man of practice, a politician, a revolutionary. Above all he was a revolutionary man of letters; his incessant polemic