Siberia. He worked part of the time in the mines, and was then transferred to a Siberian regiment as a private. In 1856 he was restored in his civil rights and promoted to the rank of an office. In 1859 he was permitted to return to St. Petersburg and to settle there. It was then only that he was able to resume his literary work after the long years of enforced silence. He resumed it, however, in a very changed spirit. The time spent "tra la perduta gente" in the mines, in close communion with the worst criminals, and following that the hard military service as a common soldier, the humiliations to which he was subjected, the solitary thoughts and the nervous fits made a deep impression on his mind but did not break his spirit. On the contrary, his experiences brought him nearer to the soul of the Russian people. "The years of hard labor have taught me the essential truth," wrote Dostoyevsky after his return, "the truth hidden in the soul of the Russian people. It is there in spite of the fact that the masses of our peasants consist of drunkards and thieves." He returned from Siberia with the fortifying conviction that the knowledge of the Russian masses has deepened his insight into his own soul, and he strongly believed ever since that the Russian intellectuals will gain everything if they trust the wisdom of the common people, the light revealed by the endurance—the wisdom of the "Russian Christ." Before his exile Dostoyevsky was naturally inclined to see and to cherish the warm glow of love in humble and humiliated souls. After his hard experiences and trials he was ever anxious to discover the divine spark, the religious truth in souls possessed by the temptations of evil.
And even the harmful effect of the Siberian trials on the health of Dostoyevsky, his epileptic fits, "the sacred disease," as they were sometimes called, became an additional power of his genius. They opened to him visionary horizons which a more balanced mind would not have perceived. Dostoyevsky's favorite hero, Prince Myshkin, "the Idiot," is an epileptic, and Dostoyevsky describes in his name the strange ecstasy of just one moment before the unconsciousness brought about by an epileptic fit—the feeling of perfect harmony with the universe, a sensation as if time did no more exist, and all life was blended in complete unity. Dostoyevsky has many times experienced such a state of ecstasy. He considered it a foretaste of the ultimate divine absorption of the human soul in God, and he did not think too high the price of pain he had to pay for his mystic visions of harmony. He knew that all that is divine must arise from the bottom of deepest agony. He had discovered this truth in the soul of the Russian people.
The great productive epoch of Dostoyevsky's life began in the year 1860. All his great novels—most of them works of exceptional length—as well as a number of short stories, were written in the course of the following twenty years up to his death in 1881. He also was very active in other ways. He edited during a couple of years an important literary review, he spent several years abroad, and travelled a great deal in France, Germany, Italy, and England. He had a great admiration for the standards of Western culture as well as for the literature and art of Western Europe. His great object in going "to the West" was to find there the realization of his dream of universal happiness. He, however, experienced great disappointments when he came into closer touch with the different countries he visited. During the Franco-Prussian War, Dostoyevsky's attitude towards Western culture changed entirely. He became violently opposed to the spirit of European life; he thought it irreligious and materialistic. He denounced the perversity of Western morals with the passion of a Biblical prophet, and he believed with the passionate faith of a Biblical prophet that the nations of the West would be redeemed and the reign of the spirit would be restored by the light from the East, from Russia and her people. The novels of Dostoyevsky abound in arguments and in prophecies on national subjects. The full scope of his nationalistic teachings is given in the periodical called "The Diary of a Man of Letters," which Dostoyevsky published at varying intervals in the last ten years of his life. His extreme Slavophile views in politics were violently opposed by the so-called "Westerners," and his last years were very much embittered by the attacks of his political adversaries. Yet, viewed from a distance, the ideas of Dostoyevsky ought not to be judged by a political standard. He was not a politician, he was a prophet with a mission. And however wrong he might have been in his views on immediate political questions, he was right in the spirit.
"Crime and Punishment," "The Idiot," "The Possessed," "A Lad of Twenty," "The Brothers Karamazov," are the great novels of Dostoyevsky. The most accessible to Western readers is certainly "Crime and Punishment." Raskolnikov, who aspired to be a sort of Napoleon in the domain of moral problems, is more or less a universal type of the intellectual. He wished to assert his proud will, to dare to be free in his revolt. He was a super-man before Nietzsche. The Russian part of the Raskolnikov problem begins with his repentance which overflows his soul with an elemental force. "She was no better than vermin, the woman I killed—and yet I must atone for my crime as if it had been of the greatest consequence."
This is the central point of the novel. "Go at once," urges Sonia, who is Raskolnikov's spiritual guide, "go this very minute, stop at the crossing of the roads, bow to the earth, kiss the soil thou hast defiled, bow then to all the world, to all the four sides, and say in a loud voice: 'I have killed.'" Raskolnikov kisses the earth with an ecstasy of joy. His repentance and his atonement are his moral victory, the achievement of the heroic ideal he vainly aspired to achieve by violence.
"Crime and Punishment" is a complete novel in itself; it puts up a problem and solves it to the end. All the other novels are each part of Dostoyevsky's teaching, and the characters which appear in them are related to each other, some of them representing the aspiring mystic faith, and some the revolted agnosticism fighting against it. The hero of "The Idiot," Prince Myshkin, represents the fullest realization of Dostoyevsky's ideal of those "who are of the future city of light." He is an idiot, an epileptic, unsound in the eyes of ordinary people, but his "flaming' brain" sees visions of a harmonic universe, and he is ready to pay the price of his life for a moment of these revelations. His inner fight helps all the suffering humanity that surrounds him, all those who are entangled in the problems of their passions, whose love is a cruel desire to subjugate and to victimize the weaker souls or to fight the stronger ones. He loves no one with an exclusive love but he pities all, and his pity is a miraculous means to come to a simple harmony of life, to achieve in each single soul its individual problem. The character opposed to him, Rogozhine, is a man out of the "real city," a man rooted in reality with all his contradictory passions, a man of the Russian soil. Yet in the eyes of Dostoyevsky, Myshkin, who passes like a vision through the novel, represents the true—the mystic reality, and the real men and women are apparitions, "dreams in a dream."
"The Idiot," as well as "Crime and Punishment," deals chiefly and almost exclusively with individual problems. In "The Possessed" and in his most synthetic novel, "The Brothers Karamazov," Dostoyevsky plunges into the deepest religious and national problems. "The Possessed" was conceived partly as a satire against the Russian revolutionaries. In his strong opposition to all violence as being contrary to the spirit of Russia, Dostoyevsky became an adversary of revolutionary ways in politics; his chief grievance against the socialists was their agnosticism. This forms the foundation of "The Possessed" (the title points to the revolutionaries possessed by evil spirits), but the novel is much more than a satire. It contains the religious teaching of Dostoyevsky, the ideal of the "God-man," of the man who sees his salvation in the submergence of his human individuality in God, in the closest communion with Christ, in the readiness to take upon himself the sacrifice of Christ and to unite with the Son of the Lord in God the Father, to disappear as a personality for the supreme resurrection in the all-embracing unity of God. The contrast of the "God-man" in the teaching of Dostoyevsky is the "man-God" the Antichrist, the revolted agnostic whose desire is to destroy the faith in order to become God himself. No human being can exist without an ideal, without a symbol of sacredness. If his temple is empty he will put his own image on the altar. This is how Dostoyevsky explains the psychology of all the agnostics he pictures in "The Possessed." There is a large collection of them in the novel. The chief, the most fascinating, the real Antichrist is Nikolai Stavrogin, the leader of the socialist group. He wants to be the god of all those he fascinates and seduces by his intellectual power. He is ready to offer shrewd arguments to support the idea of "God-man" when he speaks to those whose faith is yet unshaken; but he does it in order to gain them over to his own proud agnosticism and to his self-assertion. He is an eloquent agnostic and preacher of a man-God ideal when
