A young gentleman who was in the habit of talking glibly about the necessity of scientifically reorganising human society, declared to me one day that not only sociology, but also biology should be taken into consideration.  Confessing my complete ignorance of the latter science, I requested him to enlighten me by giving me an instance of a biological principle which could be applied to social regeneration.  He looked confused, and tried to ride out of the difficulty on vague general phrases; but I persistently kept him to the point, and maliciously suggested that as an alternative he might cite to me a biological principle which could not be used for such a purpose.  Again he failed, and it became evident to all present that of biology, about which he talked so often, he knew absolutely nothing but the name!  After this I frequently employed the same pseudo-Socratic method of discussion, and very often with a similar result.  Not one in fifty, perhaps, ever attempted to reduce the current hazy conceptions to a concrete form.  The enthusiasm was not the less intense, however, on that account.

At first the partisans of the movement seemed desirous of assisting, rather than of opposing or undermining the Government, and so long as they merely talked academically about scientific principles and similar vague entities, the Government felt no necessity for energetic interference; but as early as 1861 symptoms of a change in the character of the movement became apparent.  A secret society of officers organised a small printing-press in the building of the Headquarters Staff and issued clandestinely three numbers of a periodical called the Velikoruss (Great Russian), which advocated administrative reform, the convocation of a constituent assembly, and the emancipation of Poland from Russian rule.  A few months later (April, 1862) a seditious proclamation appeared, professing to emanate from a central revolutionary committee, and declaring that the Romanoffs must expiate with their blood the misery of the people.

These symptoms of an underground revolutionary agitation caused alarm in the official world, and repressive measures were at once adopted.  Sunday schools for the working classes, reading-rooms, students’ clubs, and similar institutions which might be used for purposes of revolutionary propaganda were closed; several trials for political offences took place; the most popular of the monthly periodicals (Sovremennik) was suspended, and its editor, Tchernishevski, arrested.  There was nothing to show that Tchernishevski was implicated in any treasonable designs, but he was undoubtedly the leader of a group of youthful writers whose aspirations went far beyond the intentions of the Government, and it was thought desirable to counteract his influence by shutting him up in prison.  Here he wrote and published, with the permission of the authorities and the imprimatur of the Press censure, a novel called “Shto delat’?” ("What