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Holy Martyr Methodius, bishop Patarsky About the life of St. Methodius, little information has been preserved. He is best known for his eloquent writings, which at the same time testify to his extensive education. “Methodius,” writes Blessed. Jerome, with brilliant and clear eloquence, wrote several books against Porphyry, also: “The Feast of the Ten Virgins,” an excellent essay against Origen on the resurrection, against him on Pythoness and free will, an explanation of the book of Genesis and the Song of Songs, and many other works that are read everywhere.” In his exposition of the doctrine of freedom, Methodius says: “if a person was created by something consisting of elements that insensitively serve (the Creator) God, then he would not receive a reward worthy of will, but would be an instrument of his culprit, not worth the punishment for evil. Man would not recognize the best, but would only know existence. Therefore, God, wanting to honor man and make him capable of recognizing the best, gave him power, but with which he can do what he wants, and his ability bends towards the better, not in order to again take away freedom, but as a father convinces his son to study the sciences... Man was created free: this does not mean that any evil already existed, for the election of which he supposedly received the ability; but he has been given the ability by which he can obey or disobey God: this is the arbitrariness of freedom. Created man receives a commandment from God, and evil begins with the fact that he no longer obeys the Divine commandment; This is what evil consists of - in disobedience, which man himself began." To the question: why was the world created? - Methodius answers: “We are not able to know the intentions of a person like us, much less the secrets of God. But we can know something about the goals of the world. By creating the world, God revealed His glory, and man enjoys the contemplation of this glory. Therefore, man is obliged to be a herald of the glory of God." In his essay on free will, in denunciation of those dissatisfied with their fate, St. Methodius says: “to grumble about the lack of earthly goods is not smart: a person must be above everything earthly; God created man for activity, and not for pleasures that relax the soul and body. Perfect equality is impossible, diversity is an accessory to perfection; poverty is permitted either as a punishment for sins, or as a warning against sins.” At the end of this work, Methodius exhorts the rich to help the poor. St. Anastasius of Sinai calls Methodius “rich in wisdom.” St. Epiphanius speaks of him as a “zealous champion of the truth”; this indicates a struggle associated with sorrows, the crown of which, according to the instructions of the ancient storytellers about Methodius, was martyrdom; its place is eastern Chalkida, and its time, in probability, is 310–311. St. torment. Aristoclia, Demetriana and Athanasius Aristocles was a presbyter of the church in the city of Thamasa, on the island of Cyprus. During the persecution under Diocletian and Maximian, he was afraid of torture and hid in a cave on Mount Olympus (20 versts from Tamas). But one day, during prayer, a heavenly light shone around him and a heavenly voice commanded him to go to Salamis, the main city of the island, and openly confess the name of Christ. Strengthened by the Divine command, Aristoclius put aside his fear and set out on his journey. Walking through an oak forest, I came across the Church of St. Ap. Barnabas and with him two clerics, Dimitrian and Athanasius, who, having learned about the revelation, wished to go with him to death for Christ. Arriving in Salamis, they began to glorify the name of Christ and denounce idolatry. The pagans presented them to the ruler, and this, having tested their firmness in faith, ordered Aristocles to beheaded, and Demetrius and Athanasius to be burned. Their martyrdom followed in 306. † Presentation of goods. book Gleb Andreevich Blessed Prince Gleb, son of Blagov. book Andrei Bogolyubsky, born in Vladimir in 1155. St. Gleb is a living example of how much the good life of parents means for the fate of their children. Life of the book Andrei in Vladimir was devoted primarily to works of piety - the construction of churches and monasteries, charity and prayers. And under the influence of the example and instructions of St. parent formed St. son. The divinely inspired sage says: “Train the young man at the beginning of his path; He will not depart from this even when he is old” (Prov. 22:6). Life of the book Gleb's life did not last long: he died at the age of 20. But starting from the first revelation of self-activity, his life was devoted to piety, and not to sin: the fear of God controlled his thoughts, feelings, desires and actions; prayer brought down upon him heavenly grace, which extinguished the passions of his youth. The pure, immaculate prince rested blissfully on June 20, 1175. His pure body was laid in the Vladimir Cathedral. Both his spirit and body, as if undamaged by sin, remained intact - they are not afraid of any hostile attacks. According to the inscription on the prince’s tomb, during the devastation of the cathedral church at Batu (1238) “the tomb of St. Blagov. book Gleb was in no way damaged by the fire, just as the opposing warrior himself marveled at this.” Another miracle, now known, occurred in 1410 during the robbery of the Tatars in the cathedral. One of these pets of Alkoran, seeing the tomb of Prince. Gleb and thinking of finding in it those treasures that the sacristan Patrick had not opened, opened the tomb; but flames burst out of it and the Tatars ran out of the church in horror. In 1608, the Poles made two or three attacks on Vladimir, almost defenseless; but they couldn’t take it. During this siege, at midnight, the cathedral guards noticed some kind of lighting in the cathedral and let sexton Gerasim know about it. He opened the door and saw the light, and someone was sitting at the prince’s tomb and said to the frightened man: “Don’t be afraid, I’m not a ghost; - The Lord will not deliver this city into the hands of enemies: we protect it and pray to the Lord and His Most Pure Mother for it; go and tell the archpriest and the clergy what I told you; I'm lying in this coffin." Gerasim barely came to his senses from fear and told everything to the archpriest and all the abbots of the monasteries. That same night the Poles left Vladimir, driven by fear. The relics of the blessings. The prince was opened on November 30, 1702. At the same time, a service was written for him on June 20, and a chapel was built in his honor in the cathedral. In 1818, a beautiful silver shrine was made for his relics. The relics of the holy, young prince are distinguished by their amazing liveliness, like no one else’s: - his hand freely rises, bends, bends, just like that of a living person 228 . “Fathers, do not grieve your children, but bring them up in the training and admonition of the Lord” (Eph. 6:4). The rod and teaching give wisdom, but a child left to its own will brings dishonor to its mother. Teach your son, and he will comfort you and bring joy to your soul” (Prov. 29:15,18). To the life of St. Prince Gleb, taken from the works of the Right Reverend Philaret of Chernigov, we consider it not superfluous to add a description of an incident from the life of Archimandrite Anthony. In the “Orthodox Review” for 1879, a biography of the abbot of the Trinity Lavra of St. Sergius, Archimandrite Anthony, was published, in which, among other things, it was mentioned that the abbot’s father, while still living in the world, doubted the incorruptibility of St. relics and was convinced of their truth by the relics of St. Prince Gleb, resting in the Vladimir Cathedral. This incident is mentioned only in passing in the biography; but I heard about him in detail from the late father of the governor himself, and his story seems so interesting to me that I think it would not be superfluous to publish it. I will convey it in the words of the father governor himself, which I wrote down shortly after the conversation with him. “While I was still in the world,” so said the father governor, “I lived on the estate of Prince Gruzinsky, the village of Lyskovo, Nizhny Novgorod province. Having a little understanding of medicine, I was there treating the prince’s household and surrounding residents. Among my patients were schismatics, of whom there were a lot in our village, mostly rich people. Once, when I was visiting one of them, our conversation touched on the differences between their rituals and our Church. The schismatic, of course, justified his rituals and accused our Church of apostatizing from Orthodoxy and accepting new things; and I, as best I could, defended our Church and, as proof of its Orthodoxy, pointed out to him the many incorruptible relics located in our Church. “- Eh! Andrey Gavrilovich! The schismatic answered me, “Have you yourself seen the incorruptible relics?” Believe me, the monks invented all this for income; After all, there aren’t any relics in your Church, but they’ll just build a tomb and cover it with a shroud, or perhaps they’ll put something like relics, and they say that there are incorruptible relics here! Well, apparently, the common people believe, but the monks and priests steal the income. “These diabolical words of the schismatic made a terrible impression on me; The enemy immediately gave me the idea that he really wasn’t telling the truth. I continued to defend the Church; but doubt was already born in my soul. When I came home, this thought did not leave me and the enemy continued to whisper to me that the schismatic was telling the truth. In fact, I had never seen relics and had no good idea what relics were; I heard that the relics are the bodies of saints, not given over to decay; but how they rest and in what form - I absolutely had no idea. Now, after talking with the schismatic, I made it my absolute intention to visit where there were some relics in order to personally verify their incorruption. The opportunity for this presented itself to me very soon. “Once in winter General Bezobrazov happened to pass through our village with his wife, son, daughter and tutor. On the road, the general felt unwell and came to our village quite ill. Stopping at an inn, he asked if there was a doctor in the village? I was recommended to him. Having come to them, I found that the patient had a fever, prescribed him some medicines, advised him to sweat thoroughly and announced that they could not go before three days. During these days I visited them almost constantly, not because illness required it, but to pass the time. They were glad that they had someone to say a word with in their involuntary captivity, and I was glad that such an educated family came to our solitude. In these three days we met so briefly that it was as if we had known each other for three years. In the conversation, I asked them: where are they coming from and where are they going? They answered me that they were traveling from their estate to Murom and Vladimir to worship St. relics, and along with the answer they asked me if I would like to accompany them, promising to take me home on the way back. As luck would have it, they also had a place for me. The general and his family rode in a carriage, and the tutor rode alone in a sleigh: I could fit in with him. I accepted this offer with delight, asking the prince’s permission for this. Meanwhile, the general felt better, and we set off without any hesitation. Having arrived in the city of Arzamas in the evening, we stopped to spend the night at an inn, which was the only one in the city and in which there was not a single warm room. But there was nothing to do, we fit into the cold one. The housekeeper immediately lit the stove, and we, in fur coats, warmed ourselves around the samovar, waiting for the warmth. Over tea we started talking about whether there were any sights in this city for our review? “But here,” said the general’s wife, “in the Alekseevskaya community, there is one holy fool, Elena Afanasyevna, who predicts the future.” Tomorrow we will go to mass in the community, and then we will go to her. Just look, she added jokingly, “they say she fights with those who live poorly.” There was general agreement to the general’s proposal and they decided to definitely visit Elena Afanasyevna tomorrow. After dinner, the tutor and I went to spend the night in the next room and I made the following plan for myself: I think that if the general’s wife is telling the truth that Elena Afanasyevna fights in some cases, then I won’t go with everyone else for anything, but I’ll get up early, so that no one can see, I’ll slowly go to the community for matins, and then I’ll go alone to the holy fool. I did it as I intended. After Matins I come to Elena Afanasyevna’s cell; In the hall I was met by her cell attendant; I asked her: is it possible to see Elena Afanasyevna? - Yes, please! she answered. I entered a rather neatly tidied room; there was a table against the wall on which plates of gingerbread, nuts and similar sweets were placed; including a plate of rye crackers; in the middle of the room stood a woman of about fifty with expressive features, dressed in a dark dress, a blue shawl and a cap: this was Elena Afanasyevna. Remembering the general’s warning, I was afraid to come close to her and bowed to her, almost without leaving the door. -What do you want? she asked me. “I am passing through your city,” I answered, “and I have heard so much good about you that I made it my duty to come to you to pay my respects and ask for your holy prayers.” I took two steps forward, and she came up to me and curiously began to look me from head to toe, back and front, as if I were some kind of curiosity. I already thought that she didn’t want to fight, and in my heart I began to repent that I had come to her; but she looked at me and just asked what I was wearing? - How bad it is! how bad it is! Elena Afanasyevna said, shaking her head. It doesn’t look like anything - there’s a tail at the back, it’s cut out at the front, and it’s cut at the back again! How bad it is! she repeated again. What is this for you? she asked, pointing to my head. I then wore my hair according to the fashion of that time, that is. My hair in front was tousled and stood up like a cock’s comb. She came up to me and grabbed my hair. Well, I think to myself, I finally got a fight; but she, instead, just parted my hair in the middle in front and tried to put my hair behind my ears. “It suits you better this way,” she told me. - How nice it would be for you to have such a long dress reaching to the ground, long hair, how wonderful it would be for you! The thought whether she was talking to me about the shroud flashed through my mind. – Elena Afanasyevna, tell me, for God’s sake, what are you telling me? I asked her. - Should I really die, and don’t you mean a shroud by a long dress? But she didn’t answer me, she just continued to explain that a long dress and long hair would suit me. “Don’t you know that she’s telling me this?” “Yes, you should be a monk,” she answered. I even spat out of frustration; Well, what a monk I am! The thought of monasticism never entered my head; and I couldn’t stand monks either. Finally, I began to say goodbye to Elena Afanasyevna. She took five rye crackers from the plate and gave them to me: these are for your patients, she said. - But who are my patients? I asked; - Thank God, everyone is healthy! “This is a cracker for your patients,” she repeated again: “and this is for you,” she added. And she began to pour gingerbread and nuts into all my pockets. The life of this Elena Afanasyevna was wonderful, as they told me later. She was the daughter of the Arzamas governor. When she reached adulthood, her father set out to marry her and began to propose several suitors; but her virgin soul had long ago chosen a single heavenly Bridegroom, abhorring any earthly marriage; all the aspiration, all the love of her pure heart was directed towards God, and one fiery, everlasting desire was to observe virginity and spend her life in some monastic monastery. Therefore, she refused all her father’s proposals and begged him to bless her for monastic life. The father did not want to listen; sometimes with threats, sometimes with affection, he forced her to do his will. This went on for some time. The father was inexorable, and poor Elena prayed and waited for the Lord Himself to satisfy the desire of her heart. At this time, the famous elder of the Sarov desert, Father Nazarius, came to Arzamas to the Alekseevskaya community. Elena Afanasyevna turned to him with a request to give her advice, what should she do? “Pray and ask God to soften your father’s heart,” the elder answered, “without your father’s will you cannot enter the monastery: you know, without a written form you will not be accepted anywhere; and besides your father, who can give it to you? Try asking him again, maybe the Lord will help you. “I’ve already asked him so many times; but he is inexorable, and does not want to hear about it, Elena answered sadly. “There is still a way to get rid of marriage,” the elder said after some thought. “But I just don’t know if you have so much firmness, so much love for God, to decide on this, because at the same time you need to decide on all kinds of hardships, reproaches and even beatings.” If you feel enough courage to decide to endure all this, then a great reward awaits you from God; and if not, then it’s better to submit to your father. And if you are married, you can please God. Elena answered that she was ready not only to endure beatings, but even death itself, just to get rid of the marriage she hated and to work for the Lord in purity without hindrance. - But what kind of remedy is this? she asked. - Pretend you're crazy! answered the old man. - But I just repeat again: once you put your hand on the head, you shouldn’t go back; you must make a firm intention to endure everything until the end of your life, and remember that your Bridegroom, the Lord Himself, with the angels and all the saints from above, looks at your feat, and for every minute of your reproaches, your suffering, is preparing for you incorruptible crowns in eternal life. Constantly ask the Lord and His Most Pure Mother to strengthen you in your feat, and I, the unworthy one, will pray for you, so that you will complete your intention. Father Nazarius, with his wise instructions, confirmed her even more in the love of God and gave advice on what to do. A short time after her meeting with the elder, a groom from among the neighboring landowners, very advantageous for her father’s views, emerged, and her father resolutely began to demand Elena’s consent to marriage. She began to refuse; but her father insisted even more, threatening her with a curse for her resistance. Finally she agreed. They were married and brought from the church to her parent’s house, where dinner was prepared and guests were invited. The groom did not have his own house in the city, and he lived on an estate: that’s why the wedding took place in the governor’s house. This house was one-story, and in front of the house on the unpaved street there was a large dirty puddle. During dinner, everyone was cheerful, everyone was happy looking at the newlyweds, and most of all her father was happy that his wish had come true. But soon the joy of him and his guests turned to sadness. In the middle of lunch, the newlywed suddenly screamed, rushed out of the open window onto the street, lay down in a puddle and began to wallow in it. All those present were struck like thunder; Having come to their senses from amazement, some ran out into the street to help Elena and pulled her out of the puddle; Her expensive dress was covered in dirt, and she herself was distorting herself, screaming, tearing out her hair and jewelry, looking at everyone with meaningless eyes and fighting with those who were near her. All the signs were that Elena was crazy. The father was in despair; the guests began to leave; the newlywed announced that he would not take a crazy woman as his wife, and hastily left; Rumor spread throughout the city that the governor’s daughter was spoiled at the wedding. Elena stayed in her father's house and lived like this for some time - she played pranks during the day, and spent the whole night in prayer. When her father died, her pranks increased even more, and she was so tired of her brothers that they kicked poor Elena out of the house in only a dress. Meanwhile, there were already rumors in the city that Elena was pretending to be crazy; some nuns of the Alekseevsk community knew why she came to Father Nazarius and what he advised her; Some people in the city learned from these nuns. This rumor reached her husband, he undertook to correct Elena, and when her brothers kicked her out of the house, he took her to his estate - and then her suffering for the purity and love of God began. At first he tried to persuade her with caresses to leave her imaginary foolishness and begin married life; then, seeing the inflexibility of her intentions, he already wanted to torture her to fulfill his will. Having driven an iron ring into the wall, he stripped Elena naked, tied her to this ring by her braid, beat her with a stick or a whip until either he himself was exhausted, or the sufferer lost consciousness. But, exhausted in body, she did not faint in spirit, and no torment could shake her firm intention, so that the tormentor himself, seeing his futility, at night, in winter, pushed her out of his house into the street forever. Elena began to walk around the city, having neither shelter nor shelter, showered with ridicule during the day, and suffering from cold and bad weather at night. That’s what she told herself afterwards; “I suffered a lot at that time, and especially on the winter nights: I was wearing only a dress, and it was thin, and I was trembling from the cold, and many times I thought that I would not live until the morning, I would freeze. People did not accept me into their homes, and in order to keep warm, I entered the barn where the pigs lay. “The dumb animals were more humane to me than people: when I lay down there, the pigs also lay down around me and with their bodies seemed to want to warm me, and with tears I thanked the Creator that He had not completely forgotten me and admonished the dumb ones to have compassion on me!” Finally, an order came from the authorities to send Elena to a mental home. But the abbess of the Alekseevskaya community, knowing Elena’s spiritual life, petitioned to be allowed to take her into her care into the community, where she undertook to support her and not let her go anywhere. She was allowed: and since then, Elena Afanasyevna has lived in this community, serving as an example of piety, and for her exploits she received the gift of insight from the Lord. Such was this Elena Afanasyevna and such was her life! Having left her, I went to the inn to my companions. On the road, the general's footman and coachman meet me with upset faces. - Oh, Andrei Gavrilovich! where were you? We have been looking for you for a long time; our masters are dying! - Yes, they all went crazy and now lie without memory. I ran into the room and, according to Elena Afanasyevna’s prophecy, I actually found five sick people: the general’s family and the tutor were lying in an unconscious position, the Lord helped me: I soon brought them to their senses, gave them a cracker from Elena Afanasyevna and told them my date with her. And the reason for the fumes was that the hostess made sure that we would be warmer by closing the stove early: I was saved from the fumes by leaving early in the morning. When my patients recovered, we moved on. We arrive in Murom. I eagerly hurried to the cathedral, where the relics of St. Princes Peter and Fevronia to check the words of the schismatic. Let's get there. My companions went straight to St. relics, began to pray earnestly, and then venerate; I followed their example: after making several prostrations, I wanted to reverently venerate the relics; but to my surprise I saw that here, instead of the relics I expected, there was only a full-length icon of the noble princes Peter and Fevronia. I asked the priest standing here to reveal the relics to me. “They cannot be opened: they are hidden,” he answered me. I didn’t understand what it meant: under a bushel. - There is no need - I say that they are hidden; please open it, I want to venerate the relics themselves. “I’m telling you that you can’t open it,” answered the priest; – there are no relics here, they are in the ground. - Ah!.. they are not here! I said and walked away. The words of the schismatic now came to my mind, and now it seemed even more that he was telling the truth. In an embarrassed, upset spirit, I returned to my companions. - Well, did you venerate the relics? they asked me. - To what relics? I asked them, as if not understanding. - How to which ones? yes, that's what we were attached to “Sorry,” I venerated myself here, but I didn’t see any relics, and there was just one icon lying there; Yes, the priest told me that there are no relics here. - Oh, my God! what an unbeliever you are! the general's wife said with horror, and began to passionately assure me of the reality of the relics here and the miracles that happen from them; But in response to all her evidence, I decisively said that I would not believe any of the relics until I was convinced with my own eyes of their incorruption. - Well, good! the general's wife said solemnly. - Let's go to the Annunciation Monastery, - there you will be convinced; there the relics rest at the autopsy. We arrive there and straight to the tomb where Prince Constantine and his children rest. My pious companions first asked to serve a prayer service; During the service before the royal doors, in order to better see the relics, I approached them and began to feel their heads. Although the relics were at the autopsy, they were covered with a veil, and this was not satisfactory for me, I still did not see the relics as I would have liked. The hieromonk, noticing this, came up to me and told me to move away and not touch the saint. relics. I obeyed with annoyance and stepped aside. At the end of the prayer service, everyone began to kiss; I came too. - Father! What is this - relics? I asked the hieromonk. “Yes, relics,” he answered, surprised by my question. - So, can you open them so I can have a look? I asked. - No, you can’t! he said, even more surprised. “So how can you prove to me that the relics lie here for certain?” I asked with annoyance, “perhaps there are made dolls covered with a shroud!” The hieromonk looked at me angrily. “Dear sir,” he said, raising his voice in which one could hear indignation, “let me ask you, which Church do you belong to?” I answered that - to the Orthodox. – So how do you speak like a non-Orthodox? You dare to call the holy relics that the Church has recognized as dolls! He got excited, so did I, and we had a heated argument, which ended with the hieromonk ordering me to get out, or otherwise threatening to send me to the police as a blasphemer of the shrine. With rage in my soul and even greater prejudice against holy relics, I returned to the inn and resolutely announced to my companions that from now on I do not believe in any relics, and asked them that if we come to a place where there are relics, they would not tell me about them. In vain they tried to convince me and lead me onto the path of faith and truth, from which I had staggered so terribly; the enemy so besieged my mind that all their arguments were unsuccessful - I remained with my prejudice against holy relics. And what happened to me for this? Anger and annoyance at everyone and everything took over my heart; in the spirit there is unpeace, terrible languor, melancholy, blasphemous thoughts not only against the relics, but also against everything holy. I felt that the enemy had taken possession of me, that I was perishing; but he could not and did not know how to get out of this terrible situation. So we arrived in Vladimir. To ease my conscience, I went to the cathedral and poured out my soul in front of the miraculous image of the Vladimir Mother of God. I arrive and the cathedral has just been opened before mass begins. There was no one in the cathedral. I walked past the relics, without giving them proper veneration, straight to the image of the Mother of God. I prayed fervently for a long time. I confessed in my soul that I was mistaken and sinning before God, rejecting the relics of His saints; but my reason could not be convinced of the truth, and so I asked the Mother of God that She would not let me perish, would enlighten me and guide me on the right path. Having attached myself to the image with faith, I felt somehow lighter. Looking back, I saw a priest who had just entered the cathedral to serve the liturgy. I turned to him with a request to show me something interesting in their cathedral. “The main attractions of our cathedral,” answered the priest, “are the holy relics of our noble princes: here in the middle of the cathedral, between two pillars, lies Prince George, killed during the invasion of Batu; and on the left side of the iconostasis is Prince Andrei, nicknamed Bogolyubsky for his love of God and also killed, but not by foreigners, but by his own relatives, and here on the right side, on the contrary, rests his son Prince Gleb, who died peacefully in his youth not long before the murder of his father. So the priest said, pointing to the tombs of the saints. The priest’s noble manner and kind expression placed me in his favor, and I decided to speak frankly with him. “Father,” I told him, “for God’s sake, what I ask of you, fulfill my request.” I do not believe the incorruption of the relics, thinking that this is a deception invented for profit. To assure me, for the sake of God, for the salvation of my soul, reveal to me some of the relics so that I can personally verify their incorruption. I'll pay you whatever you want for it. There is no one in the cathedral now; It’s easy for you to do this: just for the sake of my salvation, lead me out of this error! - If you please! - said the priest. He led me to the relics of St. Prince Gleb, made three prostrations in front of them and began to speak to me with animation. – Here are the relics of Saint Prince Gleb, who died in 1275. From then until the time of Peter the Great, they lay in the ground, and from his reign to this day they lie at the opening for the most pious honor, but look, neither time, nor earth, nor air dared to touch the consecrated body. At these words the priest removed the veil of St. relics, and the relics lying in the princely clothes were revealed to me. The priest reverently raised the saint’s hand, rolled up the sleeve on it, and showed it to me up to the elbow: it was completely incorruptible, all the ingredients, the skin itself was intact, like that of someone who had recently died, only yellowish in color. “Don’t think that this is done,” continued the priest; he took both hands, which were folded on his chest, raised them and laid them out not like those of a dead person, but as if they were sleeping. - Horror attacked me; a chill passed over my skin. – Do you believe now? the priest asked me. Instead of answering, I fell in a feeling of reverence before the holy relics. Now I was quite convinced; I truly believed and fervently thanked the saint of God that he deigned to assure me so; I asked God not to punish me for my previous unbelief; My soul felt so light, tears of joy involuntarily flowed from my eyes. - Father! How can I pay you for your good deed? I said with a feeling of gratitude to the priest. “I offered him some kind of banknote, but he nobly refused. - No, thank you; I didn't do it for money; you asked me to do this for the sake of God and for the sake of your salvation: that’s why I decided to fulfill your request. The salvation of my neighbor's soul is most precious to me. Having said this, he politely bowed and retired to the altar. With delight, I ran to the hotel to my companions, told everything that happened to me, and they rejoiced from the bottom of my heart at my conversion. Since then I have firmly believed in the holiness and incorruptibility of St. relics, and this incident with me served as a lesson to me that I must beware of conversations with heretics and schismatics” (Dushep. Thu. January 1879). Dobrokhotov ancient monuments in Vladimir, pp. 13–15, 19. 24–26. 42. M. 1849 RKP. the story of the life and miracles of St. book Gleb at Tsarsky No. 455, written in 1702.