III. В Санкт-Петербургской духовной академии: XXV курс (1859–1863)

The departure from Nizhny Novgorod to St. Petersburg was more important for me than for others, including my companion, F. G. Eleonsky. This was a decisive turning point, a sharp turn in my personal life. Having previously lived, since infancy, in a family that was very closed, and had not experienced life among strangers, I felt like a defenseless chick that had fallen out of its native nest. My other comrades, who left their parents’ homes for entire school years to study at school and seminary, could not even half feel what I experienced. It is therefore not surprising that I was confused and nervous, which accompanied me throughout our journey and intensified even more upon arrival in St. Petersburg, which was cold in every sense and least capable of having a calming and invigorating effect on agitated nerves and a cold heart. Having said a touching goodbye to our parents, relatives and beautiful Nizhny Novgorod, we set off, at the beginning of August 1859, on the Samoletsky steamship, up the Volga to Yaroslavl, since there was no Nizhny Novgorod road at that time; it was just starting to be built. On this ship, quite unexpectedly, we had another companion, a student at the Perm Seminary, who was also going to the St. Petersburg Academy, and like us, a volunteer - A.E. Adrianovsky. We arrived in Yaroslavl early in the morning, stopped for a very short time in the common room of one very prominent, perhaps the best hotel in this city, the homeland and breeding ground of Russian innkeepers and taverns. Here, in this hotel (Pastukhova), we were amazed by the number of collectors and collectors, especially monks and nuns, pestering visitors in the common room with requests for donations. Although we were accustomed to this spectacle in Nizhny, especially during the fair, too many pickers, and even monastics, and early in the morning, still seemed unusual to us. After drinking tea, we went to look for the office of the crews of the private company “Public Benefit”, which was pointed out to us on the ship. We had to go to Moscow in one of the stagecoaches of this company, since there was no Yaroslavl railway at that time, and there was no railway on the section from Trinity-Sergiev Posad to Moscow. The railway on this section was opened two years later (probably in 1861–1862), much earlier than the construction of the full line of the Moscow-Yaroslavl railway. We traveled by stagecoach from Yaroslavl to Moscow for about two days (240 versts), through Rostov, Pereyaslavl, Trinity-Sergiev Posad. When we arrived in Posad, despite the short stopover, we managed, however, to visit the cathedral, where the relics of St. Sergius, and looked at the Moscow Theological Academy, they even looked into the student rooms. We arrived in Moscow on the eve of the Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord, on a beautiful clear day, stopped on the edge of the city at some inferior inn and, of course, immediately went to the Moscow Kremlin, which delighted us. A religious procession was being prepared there; It was already evening and the all-night vigil had begun. A marvelous view of Zamoskvorechye and then laid out with smooth slabs, as if in a church, the Kremlin square, surrounded by majestic ancient cathedrals, decorated with the banners of the procession and enlivened by the assembled people, presented a picture full of amazing splendor and touching beauty. And we liked all of Moscow very much, and it is not surprising, since in its vast size it reminded us of our hometown, and if it did not differ in such an outstanding location as Nizhny, it spoke a lot to the heart with its incomparable Kremlin, its numerous ancient monuments and churches and purely Russian character. Its mild climate, much better than that of Nizhny Novgorod, also won in its favor. St. Petersburg did not make such an impression on us. We went there by rail. And although passenger trains then ran from Moscow to St. Petersburg for exactly 30 hours, this, by now extremely slow ride, seemed to us then, after riding in a stagecoach, unusually fast. This impression was somewhat weakened only by the train standing for too long at each of the numerous stations, usually at least 10 minutes at the smallest station and at least half an hour, or even a whole hour, at the large one. The conductors were then soldiers in shakos, and the entire railway administration was military; they did not stand on ceremony with passengers, but accustomed them to military subordination; I remember especially that the cashiers behaved menacingly, instilling awe in the passengers who came up to their gate to buy tickets. For travel by rail, we were given tickets, not the current small ones, but large long pieces of paper, with the designation of all the numerous stations leading to St. Petersburg and with the price of travel to it, from Moscow, set against each one. We arrived in St. Petersburg in the evening. Here we were greeted by a gray, leaden sky and lightly drizzling rain. The very first impression was unpleasant, exactly the opposite of what Moscow made on us. There was a whiff of cold, a smell of some kind of non-Russian spirit, and the people turned out to be somehow special, far from being as complacent as the Muscovites, gloomy, preoccupied with something, quickly running somewhere. In a word, my heart involuntarily sank and I wanted to quickly escape from this unsympathetic city. I had no presentiment then that I would have to live in it for more than two-thirds of my life and settle there forever. When moving from the Nikolaevskaya railway station to the city, a curious adventure happened to us. Not having the slightest idea of ​​what part of the city the academy was located, and assuming in Nizhny Novgorod fashion that it was known to everyone here, 112 we ordered the cab driver to take us to the theological academy. I remember that the cab driver at first somehow hesitated (to which we did not pay any attention at the time), and then, quickly realizing that we were newcomers and were in St. Petersburg for the first time, replied that he knew where the theological academy was located, and took us in exactly the opposite direction - to the Kazan Cathedral. Then, when he brought us to the hotel, on the Catherine Canal, opposite the Kazan Cathedral, in response to our question where the academy was located, he decisively waved his hand in the direction of the cathedral and only answered: “There.” In addition, as punishment for our inexperience and for the fact that we did not agree on the transportation fee (for some reason we imagined that in St. Petersburg there was a tax for cab drivers), he tore off 1 ruble. from us (and another cab driver - another 1 ruble from our companion) - for this small space. We later learned from the hotel bellhop that there are two theological academies in St. Petersburg, one on Vasilyevsky Island (Roman Catholic), and the other behind the Alexander Nevsky Lavra (Orthodox). Having taken a room at the hotel, the three of us stayed here, together with our inseparable companion, A.E. Adm, since the ship, and spent the first day in St. Petersburg. Our companion was extremely glad that he got to the capital 113 from the border of Siberia, from Yekaterinburg. As I said, I was not at all delighted with it. If there was one thing I liked about it and pleasantly surprised me, it was the abundance of monuments, statues and other works of art, like the groups on the Anichkovsky Bridge. However, we only managed to consider all this in the following days, and the next day upon arrival, the first thing we did, of course, was rush to the academy, present our tickets there, and then set off to find cheaper accommodation for ourselves during the exams 114 . As volunteers, we did not have the right to use the premises in the academy building; this was the privilege of students sent from theological seminaries at public expense. First of all, we went to the settlement located behind the Obvodny Canal, just opposite the academy. We were sent there by those who had completed the academic course that year (XXIII) and who lived at the academy, awaiting appointments. This settlement was the usual residence of volunteers who came to take the exam to enter the academy. But for some reason we did not find room 115 suitable for us in it and decided to look for it in the city itself, where we found it in a third-rate hotel (“Yaroslavl”), located on Goncharnaya Street, very close to the Nikolaevskaya Railway Station. We ate very poorly here, resorting more to dry eating and tea and rolls. We were amazed by the water they served us for tea. The kettle with boiling water always contained a very thick layer of dirt (not sand or lime, but dirt). When we asked what this depends on, we were told that they take water from the Ligovsky Canal, which flowed past the station and went across the entire Ligovskaya Street, towards the Tauride Garden. At that time, water was not yet supplied to houses and was transported in barrels 116. That is why in our modest hotel it was considered a luxury to provide Neva water for tea, especially for residents of such a low flight as poor visiting students. It may have been given to other residents and honored visitors. Before the exams, we got acquainted with St. Petersburg, with its wonderful buildings, palaces, cathedrals, monuments, and finally the streets and the Neva. Intimidated, even in Nizhny, by stories about the cold St. Petersburg weather, we walked around St. Petersburg in fur coats, even on the then clear, warm August days, so that near the Kazan Cathedral we attracted the attention of one of the local priests. Immediately recognizing us as visiting seminarians, he laughed good-naturedly at us, and in conclusion asked us to visit him, which, however, for some reason we never did. August 30, St. Alexander Nevsky, admired the unusually magnificent procession of the entry of the entire Royal Family into the Alexander Nevsky Lavra. From the Winter Palace, along Nevsky Prospect, a row of golden carriages followed, accompanied by a convoy not only of Cossacks, but also of Ossetians, Abkhazians, Gurians and other Caucasian nationalities - in peculiar clothes, in metal helmets and some kind of chain mail. The Ladies of the Imperial Family and their retinue sat in golden carriages, while the Sovereign Emperor with the Grand Dukes and retinue followed on horseback. I remember that such processions on this day were repeated for the next two, three years, then with the onset of the Time of Troubles (the Polish uprising of 1862–1863) they stopped. The exams have finally begun. 67 people appeared for the exam: 30 sent to the public account and 37 volunteers. Such a large number of volunteers, as they said then, was an unprecedented phenomenon at the St. Petersburg Academy until then. There were especially many of them from the St. Petersburg Seminary: in addition to five government-paid (too large a percentage of 30 government-funded vacancies for students of all other seminaries 117), seven more people were volunteers, so that almost the entire first class of graduates of the St. Petersburg Seminary expressed a desire to enter the academy. Among the St. Petersburg residents, N.I. Barsov attracted attention with his liveliness and talkativeness. From non-residents: Hieromonk Vladimir (Nikolsky, Bishop of Nizhny Novgorod) 118 with his solidity, remarkable calmness, tact and, compared to us, already middle-aged in age, and M.I. Vladislavlev († rector of St. Petersburg University) with his massive figure, intelligent face and the rumors that circulated among us about his outstanding talents, although he graduated from the Novgorod Seminary second student. Mentally, I then designated him as the first-born of our course, in which I was not mistaken, 119 although he was not among the first to be accepted. He did not graduate from the academy with us, but due to circumstances (see below) had to leave it and go to university. They examined us in all the subjects that we studied in the seminary, excluding, of course, agriculture, natural sciences and medicine. The examinations took place in a public assembly hall, in several subjects simultaneously, three or four per day, and lasted at least four days. In different places of the hall there were tables, in front of which sat professors and bachelors of the academy, teachers of various sciences. At the main table in the middle of the hall, sat the rector of the academy, then still Archimandrite Nektary (Nadezhdin), who examined in dogmatic theology and some other theological subjects. The entrance exams somehow completely faded from my memory. I remember exams in only two subjects - mathematics and Russian church history. In mathematics, E.I. Lovyagin, at that time already an ordinary professor, examined him. He answered him poorly; I couldn’t solve some simple algebra problem. In Russian church history, the examiner was bachelor M. O. Koyalovich. He asked me about the Likhuds. He answered, in general, satisfactorily, the only mistake was in the chronology, in determining the century of their life. It was then that I remembered that dictionary of church writers, which I read during my year of rest, after finishing the seminary course, and thought that I could answer this question if I limited myself to Muravyov’s textbook on Russian church history, in which there was no mention of the Likhuds. In addition to oral exams, there were also written exams. We were asked to write four essays, three in Russian (including, I remember, one sermon) and one in Latin. I don't remember those. I remember only one: John. I, 16–17: and from His fulfillment we all receive grace and receive grace... This topic was given by the rector. The oral exams went well for me. Judging by the markings in the report card and the general conclusion from them, my answers in all subjects turned out to be more than satisfactory, but, what had never happened to me either before or later, my essays, in which I was always stronger than in oral answers, turned out to be very bad this time, and according to my own consciousness. This depended on the fact that during the exams something like a nervous breakdown happened to me 120, which prevented me from concentrating my attention on the topics and calmly developing and expressing the thoughts that came to my head, instead I was nervous and thought not about the subject of the essay, but about my state of mind, and the more I thought, the worse I felt 121. In a word, I should have received treatment and not taken exams. Meanwhile, as it turned out later, during admission to the academy, mainly essays were taken into account. The result was that I was accepted into the academy for state support among the last on the list. My fate, however, was shared by T.V. Barsov, sent to the public account from the Smolensk Seminary, who graduated in our XXV course as the first master and, as we will see later, was my happy competitor for a bachelor’s degree at the St. Petersburg Academy, after completing the course there. He was also accepted very low on the list, not far from me. F. G. Eleonsky was received, compared to us, very highly. As a person of a completely different temperament, a calm, even character, and even better health than mine, he wrote the essay much better than me, which is why he was accepted much higher 122 . The first six places on the admission list, to our surprise, were taken exclusively by students of the St. Petersburg Seminary 123. Four of those sent by various seminaries at government expense were not accepted for government support. Our course was very large at first. In addition to those accepted for government support, for almost the first time in the history of the Academy, self-sufficient students showed up in large numbers. By the end of the first educational course, 1859/60, there were 13 of them 124, and also 7 volunteer students from the Buryats, students of the Irkutsk Seminary, sent to St. Petersburg to study the Mongolian language, so that in their free time from studying the Mongolian language, they would listen to academic lectures as volunteers 125. So in total, including volunteer students, there were 61 people in our XXV course - by the end of at least 1859/60, the first academic year. At the end of the entrance exams and after their results were announced, my sad, depressed state continued. In this mood, I come to the room of those who graduated this year from the XXIII academic course (1855–1859), to my fellow countryman Izm. Fed. Spassky († Archpriest of the Okhten Cemetery Church in St. Petersburg), and here I meet S. P. Avtokratov, the most gifted student of this course, who was admittedly the most talented, who took first place on the list, but graduated as a candidate. Seeing my sad face and learning about the reason for my mood, he, turning to me, said: “Well, then, undoubtedly, you will end up as a master.” Probably, such cases happened, or maybe he remembered his own fate, in connection with the saying of Scripture: “And the last will be first and the first will be last” 126. We finally moved from our inferior hotel to an academic building, and were distributed into rooms, subject to the supervision of a “senior” in each room, one of the senior students. I was placed under the command of student Ivan Dmitrievich Kasatkin († Archbishop Nicholas of Japan) 127, a man at that time very reserved, uncommunicative and therefore did not enjoy our sympathies, 128 and I found myself in the middle floor room furthest to the Obvodny Canal. Of my roommates in this room, I remember M.I. Vladislavlev, who amazed us by reading Homer’s Iliad in the original, and D. Petukhovich, who consumed an incredible amount of paper to write essays; around him lay piles of written sheets (see note above). The next year of my studies, in my junior year, I was transferred to one of the middle rooms under the seniority of I. I. Demkin (4th master of the XXIV course, still in service, archpriest of the St. Petersburg Annunciation Church, father of the famous comrade St. Petersburg mayor Demkin). All (with the exception of two) living rooms for students of both courses, senior and junior, were walk-through 129 and were located on the middle floor, on the left side of the main entrance; on the top floor, on the same side, there were bedrooms, also for both courses, and there were also all passages - from one end to the other. On the other side, to the right of the main entrance, there were: on the lower floor - the inspector’s apartment (in the same place as now), the housekeeper and one professor’s room (in our time - V.I. Dolotsky), a library of manuscripts from the Sofia Bible. (where the council hall and office are now); on the middle floor there is the rector’s apartment, one of the bachelor’s apartments and a physics office (opposite the end of the rector’s apartment, with windows onto the courtyard); on the top floor there are three bachelor's apartments and a board room (above the physics office). In each residential student room (except for one small one) there were two tables, for six students each, then, in addition to chairs, there was a sofa, and in some rooms there were two, and two wardrobes, for books and for dresses. All this is made of ash wood. The walls were painted with bluish-greenish adhesive paint. In the second year, however, the walls were covered with brown wallpaper. For classes in the evening they were given candles (at first tallow, and then the so-called “palm” candles appeared - the lowest grade of stearic candles), two per table. In the bedrooms there were beds with the names of the students above each bed and decent appliances. Each bedroom had a night light, in the form of a large iron candlestick, standing on the floor, with water inside, into which a tallow candle was lowered. Junior year: 1859/60–1860/61 – academic years Lectures began in September 1859. Then the academies did not have four courses, as now, but only two, senior and junior, two years each. That’s why there were only two classrooms, or auditoriums, as we called them, located on the sides of the church: on the right side of it for the senior year, on the left for the junior year. Lectures began at 9 o'clock in the morning and lasted until 1¾ o'clock in the afternoon and then from 3 to 4 o'clock. Each lecture lasted 1¼ hours. In the junior year they taught: logic, psychology, history of philosophy, literature, general civil history, Russian civil history, mathematics, physics and theological subjects - Holy Scripture and Patristics 130. Languages: Greek, Latin, German, French are required for all students and English is optional. Logic, psychology and the history of modern philosophy, starting with Kant, were read by V. N. Karpov, 131 the oldest of all the then professors of the St. Petersburg Academy, who had already acquired great authority in the scientific world, not only in the spiritual, but also in the secular, mainly through his translation of Plato’s works. In the works of Belinsky that were published at that time, we read his enthusiastic review of this wonderful work of our professor. I remember that the famous critic wrote that this work would have done honor even to the Academy of Sciences as a whole; the higher is the merit of a scientist who alone has accomplished colossal work before science. Logic V.N. I read from my printed book, devoting relatively little time to this subject, making only additions to what was printed. He devoted more attention and time to psychology. He divided all mental life and activity into three sections: sensual, rational, or formal, and contemplative, or ideal. He particularly focused on the second - the rational, characterizing it as extremely unstable, devoid of any independence, controlled by the aspirations of either the lower or higher nature of man, capable of proving and justifying anything. He had no sympathy for this side of mental life; all his sympathy was directed towards the third - contemplative, ideal. In essence (as it becomes clear now, it was not recognized then), V.N. in his philosophical views he adhered to the theological view of the three-part composition of man: bodily, mental and spiritual. He expressed many deep thoughts in his readings, explaining his positions with observations from everyday life, even his family life, which he especially loved. Unfortunately, he did not have the gift of speech, moreover, he was of advanced age and tired from the numerous works of his working life, 132 and therefore, in our time, he did not enjoy the attention of his listeners that he deserved. However, we also had his special admirers 133. We were not then able to appreciate the practical wisdom of this truly Russian, Christian-Orthodox-minded philosopher. We loved and respected him not so much as a professor, but as a scientist venerable in years and merits, as a man of sympathetic, noble character, who treated young people with the good nature of a wise old man, condescending to their hobbies and weaknesses 134 . Lectures on the modern history of philosophy by V.N. I read from my notes, which I took in an abbreviated form for the exams. But we did not particularly like these lectures, written in a language that was not entirely easy and clear. They were difficult to digest, since they consisted of one critical analysis of the positions of Kant, Fichte, Schelling and Hegel, without a preliminary presentation of the complete system of views of these philosophers. As a result, students were very afraid of exams in this subject, and when this exam came in the summer of 1861, in the presence of the Metropolitan, pure panic began among the students (see below). The history of ancient philosophy before Kant was read to us by professor (extraordinary or ordinary?) I.A. Chistovich 135. An excellent, generally speaking, gifted professor, he was not a born philosopher, and therefore, although his lectures were distinguished by their accuracy and comprehensive presentation of the views of ancient philosophers, they were somehow cold. We listened to him attentively and appreciated his talent, but he could not arouse in us any special love for philosophical questions. And it is not surprising, since by his mentality he should be a historian of civil or church history. In this area, he declared himself with many remarkable works (for example, “Feofan Prokopovich” and many others). He was appointed to the department of Russian civil and church history at first, after completing the academic course in 1851, and only then, after the resignation of A. A. Fisher 136, in 1853, he was transferred to the department of philosophy. It was heard that at first I.A. I read psychology along with the history of philosophy, adhering to the views of the famous German philosopher Beneke, but during the rectorship of Archimandrite Feofan (Govorov, 1857–1859; the later famous recluse Vyshensky), who did not like this system of views (the theory of “traces”, which explained the origin of mental forces), psychology was transferred to V. N. Karpov, and I. A. Chistovich was left with one history of philosophy until Kant, as it was in our course 137. By his character, I. A. was in many respects the opposite of V. N. Karpov. His main feature was formality, with the complete correctness of his relations with students. We found him still living in the academic building (for some reason, in the student half, on the ground floor; probably because he had recently been an assistant inspector). But soon, already in the autumn of the same 1859, he moved to the city, as he entered into marriage (with the daughter of Protopresbyter V.B. Bazhanov, a member of the Holy Synod). Literature was taught by ordinary professor K. Iv. Luchitsky 138. Very lively, eloquent, skillfully combining the reading of written lectures with the living word and improvisation, he captivated us with his readings on the analytics of language (philosophical grammar) and especially on aesthetics. In his lectures on this latter, he first spent a lot of time analyzing different opinions about what graceful, aesthetically beautiful is, and then he gave his own definition. I can’t remember its exact formula. I remember only his main idea that the beautiful does not depend on forms, that it is not the forms that give it existence, that the beautiful is closely connected with the manifestations of life, with its tension, that where there is no life, there cannot be beauty. He studied the history of literature little; he does not recall any readings in this department of literature. I only remember that during the history of literature he submitted lithographed lectures for rehearsals and exams. K.I. was an excellent, inimitable critic of our verbal works. We gave him the sermons assigned to us, and he subjected them to his witty, merciless criticism. To do this, he selected one of our sermons and subjected it to the following ruthless operation: he gave a detailed analysis of the entire sermon, and then of each part of it, and finally of individual phrases and expressions. It was extremely interesting and instructive to listen to his critical analysis, and at that time we positively admired our professor. Even the author of the sermon in question, with bitterness in his soul, was forced to pay tribute to the wit and justice of the critic’s comments and was ready to almost enjoy the artistry of the professor’s work. K.I. Luchitsky gave lectures on literature at the Smolny Institute and at the Tsarskoye Selo Women's Theological School. He very often came to us with the Order of St. Anna 2nd degree on the neck (which none of his colleagues did). Probably the reason for such formality of his costume was the Smolny Institute, from which he came to lecture with us, or to which he was supposed to go after reading with us. Although he was of a strict, but noble character, he kept himself quite distant from the students, but was kind to them, enjoyed their respect and even love, although they were more afraid of him than other professors in this course. General civil history was taught by the then young bachelor A.I. Predtechensky 139, very lively, eloquent, although he read from the lectures he compiled, and was an excellent expert in modern languages, especially English. Using mainly English literature on the history of the ancient world, Assyria, and Egypt, he spent a particularly long time on the history of ancient Greece and, in particular, on the age of Pericles. His lectures were rich in picturesque descriptions and introduced us well to the ancient world. In general, he was fascinated by this world, which was reflected even in his home life, in an apartment furnished with statues and paintings. It is not for nothing that later, when he was the editor of the Church Bulletin (1875–1880), he energetically defended the classicism of Count D. A. Tolstoy against the fierce attacks on him from the press and society. There was little reading on the history of the Middle Ages and the history of modern times, at least I don’t remember. A.I. Predtechensky was a rather remarkable publicist. Even then, in the early days of his service, he collaborated in magazines, not only spiritual, but also secular. By the way, he was an active contributor to the Birzhevye Vedomosti, published by Trubnikov. We treated this talented bachelor not without sympathy and not without respect, although we sometimes laughed at some of his weaknesses. A.I. Pr. was a richly gifted man, of a broad Russian, enthusiastic, passionate nature. He kept himself very close to the students; many of his comrades, especially his fellow Novgorodians, went to see him in his bachelor’s apartment, which was located in the academic building. It was all the more surprising and incomprehensible for us when, upon entering our senior year (1861), he allowed himself to take that step which, as we will see later, had fatal consequences for our entire 25th year... Russian civil history was also taught by a young bachelor, fellow student A.I. Pr-go, M.O. Koyalovich 140, an excellent professor who had a remarkable gift of speech and a historical and philosophical mindset. In his readings, he was not interested in presenting factual material, but in illuminating it, depicting popular and social movements and historical figures forced to manifest their activities in one way or another, under the influence of historical circumstances of the time and social needs and trends. Possessing excellent diction and at the same time elegant manners, he made a very strong impression on his listeners. There were, however, several of my comrades (however, these were not many) who would have liked his lectures to have had more factual material. In any case, we listened to hardly any other professor in our junior year with more attention and interest than M. O. Koyalovich. Even then he was known not only as a talented professor, but also as a scholar of Western Russian history (“Lithuanian Church Union.” St. Petersburg, 1858, and other works). He was of a very noble, handsome character, very firm and stable in his principles. Mathematics was taught by the ordinary professor E.I. Lovyagin 141, a specialist in the Greek language itself, which he taught at the academy for the first 6 years of his service (1847–1853), at the mathematics department - from 1853 to 1869, and then, after the abolition of this subject with the charter of 1869, - again a professor of Greek until the end of his service, in 1894 (about 25 years old). Mathematics was not the calling 142 of this venerable professor, and therefore, although he conscientiously performed the duties of a teacher of this subject, as in general all his and other official duties, distinguished by extraordinary accuracy and remarkable diligence, he could not, however, arouse in us a love for mathematics. There were almost no people who knew this subject among us, with the only exception, it seems, of fellow countryman E.I., N.G. Blagoveshchensky, who, having natural mathematical abilities, knew and loved this subject and did not give up studying it even in retirement, until the end of his life. If we studied mathematics and had little interest in it, then, on the contrary, we loved and were interested in physics, which was greatly facilitated by its teacher, first a bachelor, and from 1860 an extraordinary professor - N. I. Gloriantov 143 . He was a passionate lover of his subject, had a good gift of words, always spoke rather than read his lectures, enlivened them with numerous experiments and witty remarks, often invited his listeners to his physics office, which he worked hard to increase with physical instruments, and rejoiced when he succeeded. For example, we witnessed his delight when, after much trouble, he was able to acquire a rather expensive instrument, the Ruhmkorff spiral, for electrical spectacular experiments. He loved to invite strangers into his physical office, his guests or the guests of his colleagues. He also took up photography, which was not in such fashion then as it is now; had his own photographic camera with all its accessories. He enjoyed great favor among the students, whom he treated with his characteristic simplicity and good nature. F.G. El. and I, as his fellow countrymen, enjoyed his hospitality, and often were treated to tea and various delicacies that he always had in stock, since he himself was very partial to them. The Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments were taught by the ordinary professor M. A. Golubev 144, who occupied this department from the very beginning of his service (1847), a great expert in his subject, possessing both the gift of speech and great wit. First, he provided complete and detailed information about the canon of sacred books and the history of the sacred text, and then about the sacred books of the Old Testament, selecting one or more sacred books for a detailed analysis. He did the same with regard to the New Testament books. He read to both courses together, both senior and junior, in the hall, which is why he had a lot of listeners. We were often too lazy to attend his lectures, in the hope that with the crowd of listeners, the absence of several people would not be noticeable. He was a very original person; in type he most resembled an Englishman: although he was essentially good-natured, he was distinguished by a kind of cold importance, imperturbable composure and calmness, and was very fond of making jokes. It remains in my memory that he very angrily and wittily laughed at the unfortunate and strained comments of some passages of St. Scriptures. Unfortunately, he sometimes did not observe the measures, precisely when he had to give allegorical interpretations of Scripture from the works of the fathers and teachers of the Church of the Alexandrian school. I don’t know about my comrades, but M.A.’s witticisms affect me. these ancient commentators made a not entirely pleasant impression, although at that time I was very little familiar with the works of my fathers. At the present time, if now I had to listen to M.A., such an impression would probably be many times stronger 145. It seems that he was carried away by his gift of wit, and perhaps he wanted to attract the attention of his listeners, who had topics for essays in their heads that usually interfered with attentive listening to lectures. In any case, M. A. Golubev enjoyed great respect among us - as a deep expert on the Holy Scriptures, as an excellent professor and as a person of a very noble, sympathetic character. Patristics was taught by bachelor P.I. Shalfeev 146, a wonderful person in all respects - both in mind, and in heart, and in character. He was a man with a philosophical and inquisitive mind. While still a student, according to the recollections of his friend A.I. Predtechensky, he was “the center of people who loved to speculate about abstract questions of philosophy and theology,” and “perhaps more keenly than all his comrades was interested in scientific issues.” This was also noticeable in his readings on patristics. His lectures embraced the works of St. fathers, beginning with the apostolic men and ending with the fourth century. He was especially fascinated by the works of St. Gregory the Theologian. One of his memorable lectures about this St. father, published in processed form in “Christian Reading” in 1861. 147 This article perfectly describes the personality of St. Gregory the Theologian with all its features. P.I. He was not satisfied, however, with the method of reading patristics according to individual fathers and teachers of the Church, hinting to us in his readings that he dreams of a different formulation of patristics as a science. In the memoirs of his student friend (A.I. etc.) we read that he “wanted from his science to create a history of the apostolic tradition, indicating the historical circumstances that changed the turn of this river of Divine teaching and preserving the personal, individual character traits of each father.” An excellent formula, although very difficult to put into practice; It’s hard to think of another better than her. It was probably borrowed from the lips of P.I. himself. Shalfeeva. As far as I remember, he did not exactly formulate his plan for us, but in general this formula quite correctly expresses the ideal presented to his mind, judging by the hints he now recalls among his readings. At the end of our junior year, in 1861, he even gave us a topic for an essay on “the desired approach to teaching patristics as a science,” and in my essay, which, it seems, he liked more than any other, approximately the same idea was pursued, with the important difference that I was presented with the idea not of “tradition,” but of the Christian “philosophy” of St. fathers. I had not yet grown up to the ideal of my ever-memorable mentor. The general judgment of A. I. Pr-go about P. I. Shalfeev is quite correct and apt: “with a gift of speech that was not very lively, with a memory not accustomed to literal memorization, he was not the most brilliant, but, there is no doubt, he was one of the most thorough and accurate students” and, in addition, was “deeply religious” even as a student 148. He turned out to be the same at the department. He went deeply into the subject, was not an eloquent speaker, did not speak, but read his lectures and from time to time only interrupted his readings, raised one of the students 149 and reasoned with him about some question that came to his mind during the lecture, and these reasonings, rather conversations, devoid of any formality, were especially interesting 150 . P.I. Shalfeev enjoyed our great affection and attention. And this is all the more remarkable because his subject, purely theological, stood together with Holy Scripture - alone - in this course, among philosophical, civil-historical, verbal, physical and mathematical subjects, which diverted our attention and sympathy from it in their direction. Unfortunately and to our great surprise, this worthy mentor of ours, with a deep mind and the same religious disposition, did not enjoy the favor of his superiors, the then rector, Most Rev. Ioannikiy (Rudneva, † Metropolitan of Kiev), who, as was heard, suspected him of liberalism on the basis (as they said then) of his article “Christianity and Progress,” published in the “Orthodox Review” (1861, vol. IV), and also his collaboration in the journal “The Spirit of a Christian,” which was then considered liberal. These rumors are justified by the facts: passed over in the promotion and upset by the inattention of his superiors to his material and family needs 151, he decided to leave the academy to serve in the Ministry of Public Education, accepted an offer to be sent abroad to prepare for a professorship in philosophy at the university, but no more than a month after the new appointment took place (in May 1862), he died on June 26 of the same 1862, from a serious illness - inflammation of the peritoneum (peritonitis, and not “from fulminant consumption,” as stated by A.S. Rhodessky in his “Biographical Dictionary”). Before his death, amidst severe suffering, he expressed himself about them this way: “What I now endure is little worse than a bachelor’s salary!” 152 The Latin language was taught by professor of literature K. I. Luchitsky. He did not give readings on literature, but occupied us exclusively with translations of one of the works of ancient classical writers (I don’t remember which one), demanding, along with accuracy of translation, certainly grace and literary finishing, so we prepared, especially for rehearsals, according to some notes - probably preserved from the previous time. The Greek language was taught by a natural Greek - Archimandrite Gregory Vegleris, master of the Kyiv Academy, with the rank of bachelor 153, for some reason we considered him an extraordinary professor. O. Vegleris began by forcing us to write in Greek, in cursive, the handwriting commonly used among Greeks, and demanded that we get special notebooks for this purpose, in which we would then have to write down short phrases dictated by him in ancient Greek. He forced us to memorize these phrases. He often took our notebooks to himself and looked through them. When he came to class, the first thing he did was take a roll call to make sure all the students were in the class, which we really didn’t like and which none of the professors did. Several classes passed in this way, but finally there were protests on our part against such a pedagogical method, and our bachelor considered it best to solemnly, in the presence of the whole class, tear up his list in which he noted those who were absent, after which, of course, the roll calls stopped. This teacher brought us little benefit, who, however, was with us for only a short time, about a year, from the fall of 1859 to May 10, 1860 154. After him, the teaching of the Greek language was temporarily entrusted to bachelor A.I. Predtechensky (from May 15, 1860 to November 10, 1861). If anything remains of Fr. Vegleris's memory, then these are several Greek phrases, and his fierce attacks on Erasmus for the pronunciation of some Greek words introduced by this scientist. O. Vegleris could not find words to express his indignation when he spoke about this pronunciation adopted by our secular educational institutions. He positively lost his temper when he spoke about Erasmus; the most common epithet attached to it was “diavolos.” Finally, the magnificent appearance of this Greek bachelor will never be forgotten. He was, in the full sense of the word, a handsome man, a brunette, with very regular facial features, beautiful eyes, magnificent hair, moderately plump, of average height, with excellent manners, stately posture. He probably had quite a few admirers among the ladies 155. His command of the Russian language was rather poor 156. The Hebrew language was also taught by a natural Jew, an extraordinary professor at St. Petersburg University D. A. Khvolson 157, who held the rank of private teacher at our academy (until 1869), a great expert in his subject, and even then a well-known Hebraic scholar. Unfortunately, he did not adapt to teaching Hebrew at a higher theological school. Instead of keeping us more occupied with translations from this language and thereby inspiring us to study it, as the ever-memorable Archpriest G. P. Pavsky once did (according to surviving legend), he devoted too little time to translations, and occupied us more with philological and grammatical subtleties. These subtleties - perhaps very important for the registered philologists of the Eastern Faculty - bored us, especially through the constant repetition of the same thing, cooled our zeal for studying this language, important for the theologian, and as a result we did little with it, and there seemed to be no experts in it among us at all. New languages ​​were taught by: French - bachelor M. O. Koyalovich, German - bachelor I. T. Osinin, English - teacher G.D. Bishop. English was not compulsory for all students. M. O. Koyalovich, knowing book French well, did not speak spoken French, but, as a well-loved and respected teacher of civil history, he encouraged us to study French as well. I. T. Osinin 158, being born abroad, in Denmark, in Copenhagen (he was the son of a psalm-reader at the local embassy church), knew German not only as a bookish language, but also as a spoken one, and spoke it fluently. By the way, he taught us to do the same thing, and although our successes in this regard were very small, we were still able, albeit with a little help, to compose small German phrases. G. D. Bishop 159, a natural Englishman, was an excellent English teacher. He spoke Russian very well, completely correctly and fluently and, what is especially remarkable, when he translated from English into Russian, the Russian translation turned out to be quite literary, even elegant, so that it would have been difficult for a natural Russian with literary taste to translate better. Some of my comrades learned English well and quickly under his guidance. G. D. Bishop had some oddities, which, it seems, no Englishman can do without. He had a passion for lying and making things up 160. The tone of academic life was set by those in charge. In the first academic year (1859/60), the top management was headed by Metropolitan Grigory (Postnikov) of Novgorod and St. Petersburg 161 . We saw Metropolitan Gregory, deeply revered by everyone for his strict ascetic life, strength of character and scientific works, especially on the study and denunciation of the Russian schism, at the academy, probably at the Christmas exam. A rather tall old man with stern features of a pale face - this is how he remained in our minds. But, apart from the impression of his appearance, nothing else was preserved in our memory. The following years of our students, as well as long after, during the years of our academic service, the successor of Metropolitan Gregory, Metropolitan Isidore (Nikolsky) 162, was the Metropolitan of Novgorod, St. Petersburg, Estonia and Finland. We will have to talk a lot more about it later. The officials closest to him were the rector and the inspector. In the first academic year (1859/60), the rector of the St. Petersburg Academy was the archimandrite, and then (from September 13, 1859) the Bishop of Vyborg, vicar of St. Petersburg, Nektary (Nadezhdin) 163, a man of a gentle, friendly, trusting character 164, more or less sympathizing with the then liberal influences, in the best, of course, on their sides, significantly weakened the severity of the former Makarievsky (Metropolitan Makariy (Bulgakov)) regime. At his farewell, his students presented him with a panagia. This was primarily the case of senior students. During the remaining academic years (1860–1863), Nektary’s successor was the rector, first also an archimandrite, and then (from June 12, 1861) Bishop of Vyborg Ioannikiy (Rudnev) 165, incomparably more gifted than his predecessor, but of a completely different character, stern, distrustful, suspicious, who did not find anything worthy of sympathy in the then aspirations of the youth, set out to raise fallen discipline in the academy. We will see later what came of this. For the first month and a half after we entered the academy, we essentially did not have an inspector. We found Archimandrite Epiphany (Izbitsky) 166, who was an inspector at that time, a Polish nobleman who had converted from Catholicism to Orthodoxy. He was, so to speak, on flight, awaiting appointment to another position, which followed on September 2 of the same 1859. Then for several days (ten), without taking up the post of inspector, Archimandrite Asinkrit (Vereshchagin) 167 was listed there, appointed (September 5), but at his request dismissed (September 15) from the spiritual and educational service. Another month passed, and on October 15 we finally received an inspector in the person of Archimandrite Pavel (Lebedev; † Archbishop of Kazan) 168, who stayed with us for about two years (from October 15, 1859 to August 23, 1861), that is, during the entire junior year, and left behind a good, grateful memory. We did not appreciate him enough when he was an inspector and remembered him when we entered our senior year, when the October (October 4, 1861) story played out with all its consequences and influence on the structure of our lives in the last two years of our stay at the academy. But we’ll talk about the discipline and order of our student life in the junior year; now let’s move on to our studies in this year. We soon realized that the academic education system was very similar to the seminary system of that time. Just as there everything was directed towards our formal development, mainly towards exercise in written works, so it is here at the academy. The difference was only in the nature of the readings, and also in the fact that in the seminary they assigned us lessons and each class asked us for a report on how we had mastered what was given, but here at the academy they gave us lectures for several months in a row and did not control us in their mastery, at the same time assigning us a lot of essays, at least five (with a sermon) a year. As for the lectures, we listened attentively only to our favorite and interesting teachers. Others either sat in the classroom (to avoid Inspector Pavel, who often visited busy rooms during lectures), doing whatever they could at that time, or hid in the so-called “catacombs” - a bakery, where, by the way, tobacco lovers went at other times to smoke. Knowing this attitude of students towards lectures, those professors who wanted to have a full and attentive audience tried in every possible way to interest their listeners. This is where the character of some readings originated, hence the seasoning for them (spiciness, their salt). We reported on our understanding of the lectures during exams, twice a year - at Christmas and before the summer holidays - and at rehearsals before the exams. But this report was not serious. Not all professors did rehearsals; some did not do them at all, saving time for lectures. I remember the rehearsals of only a few: V.N. Karpov and, in particular, K.I. Luchitsky, who carried them out carefully and strictly. For rehearsals, in most cases, special lithographed lectures were issued, which often contained not what was read, but what was presented for the exams. This custom of issuing special notes for exams was probably due to fear of censorship on the part of the authorities - rectors, metropolitans and academic auditors. Some of the professors issued more or less detailed programs of what they read for rehearsals and exams, for example, V.N. Karpov - in psychology. The exams were conducted in the same way as in seminaries, that is, they did not ask each student on each subject, but one on one thing, another on another. Student exams have completely faded from memory. I remember well only one exam, the summer one, the last one in my junior year. There was Metropolitan Isidore. It turns out that in 1861 he was an auditor at the academy - a circumstance that I completely forgot, but which was reminded of me by the affairs of the academic archive. This time he carried out the audit personally, and did not entrust it, as he did in subsequent years, to his vicars. So, the exam was going on: of course, in the hall. They were examined in various subjects, including logic, psychology and the history of philosophy. I haven't been called yet. Suddenly the Metropolitan, addressing the rector, Rev. Joannikia, asks to ask someone about the history of modern philosophy, specifically about Hegel. As soon as the comrades heard that the examination was moving to a new philosophy, a mass of them fled from the hall. The fugitives hoped that they would be asked about another subject, and not about the new philosophy; V.N.’s notes, presented, as noted above, in a difficult to understand manner, frightened them. Rev. Ioannikis calls me. In my answer, I completely abandoned what was stated in V.N.’s documents given to us. notes, afraid of getting confused, remembering what he had read, he smartly began to expound Hegel’s system of views as he had learned it partly from the professor’s readings, partly from the works of the famous Hegelian Belinsky, which we then read a lot. V.N. let me express everything I knew, never stopped me or made a single objection. The Metropolitan was apparently pleased too. In conclusion, he noted that something similar to Hegel’s views is found in the philosophy of the Indians and Chinese. Some of my comrades later said “thank you” to me for bearing on my shoulders the weight that could have fallen on each of them. I don’t remember if anyone else besides me was asked about this subject - it seems that the exam on it ended with my answer. In general, exams were not important for students back then. They were only of the nature of testing both the students’ knowledge and the success of teaching and the direction of the professors’ readings. The teachers tried to show their best side during the exam; hence the special lithographed lectures for exams, hence the calling of the best students for answers 169. Our exam answers were not particularly valued. Here is the view of them from one of our especially gifted comrades (M.I. Vladislavlev), expressed to me once in a conversation: “It’s bad if you completely fail at the exam, they will remember a very bad answer, and then if you answer perfectly or only satisfactorily, it’s absolutely the same; the main thing is the essays, they are most valued.” That's why our special attention was paid to the essays; most of our time was spent on them, which was left over from reading the favorite literature of this or that student 170. At that time, at least four essays were given, and with a sermon - five each year, so that in two years in the junior year we wrote ten essays. I still have all of them (except for one sermon). The topics for them were as follows. The first - on patristics and Russian civil history: “To whom did St. write his epistle? Apostle Barnabas"; “The advantages and disadvantages of Ustryalov’s works on Russian history” (in the review of M.O. Koyalovich my work was called “a very remarkable work”). Next - on general civil history: “Is it fair to divide general history into ancient, middle and modern?” In philosophy: “How does a philosophical idea differ from an ordinary one?” (read by I. A. Chistovich). This is in the first year. In the second: “On the influence of logic on practical life” (read by V.N. Karpov, his signature is original: “Very grateful!”). On patristics: “On the desirable establishment of patristics as a science.” On general history: “The general basic character of the civil life of the pagan world and the main particular manifestations of it in different countries” (read by A.I. Ahead, the signature expresses “the reviewer’s desire to receive a copy of this work from the author”), finally on the history of philosophy: “The origin and various expressions of the idea of ​​fate in ancient Greek philosophy” (read by I.A. Chistovich). My last two essays were intended to be read at the public examination in 1861, first both, and then, by agreement between the professors, one on general civil history, since each student could speak to the public with only one essay 171 . If I'm not mistaken, all my essays, in general, were the best written by students of our junior year. Of all eight essays, five had the highest score (10) and three had a score of 9 or 10 172. Thus, in the very first two years of my student life, I managed to atone for the shame of my unsuccessful debut at the academy with my essays on the entrance exam. As for my overall success in my junior year, judging by the total scores, essays and oral answers for the first two years, I should have taken third place on the list. F. G. Eleonsky, judging by the scores, should also have stood high, undoubtedly in the top ten 173. Before the onset of the summer holidays, in addition to the usual exams, there were also public ones. I don’t remember the public exam in the first academic year (1859/60), and it’s unlikely that there was one, since Metropolitan Grigory (Postnikov) died on June 17, 1860. His death probably prevented the organization of this exam. It also interfered with our usual vacation for the holidays (around June 15). This year we were released after June 30, after our church academic holiday (the 12 Apostles), which, which seems to have never happened later, the academy held with the full complement of its then students. For our late departure we were rewarded with the rare sight of the very solemn funeral of the late, ever-memorable Metropolitan Gregory. We were present in the Lavra Cathedral, we were placed just behind the entire Royal Family, and after the body was removed from the cathedral, after the funeral service, we were placed along the alley leading from the Lavra Cathedral to the Academy. Here Sovereign Emperor Alexander II walked past us, arm in arm with Grand Duchess Alexandra Iosifovna, wife of Grand Duke Konstantin Nikolaevich, who amazed us with her beauty. The public examination in the second academic year, 1860/61, is very memorable to me; our essays were to be read at it, including, as noted above, mine on general civil history. Before the exam, Bachelor A.I. Predtechensky considered it necessary to do a small reading rehearsal with me: he put me in an empty hall at the department and forced me to read my work, which was far from unnecessary, since I did not know how to read in public. However, neither I nor any of the junior year students had to read it. Only the works of the senior students who then graduated from the academy course (XXIV, 1857–1861) were read, and of these, almost only one was the work of student P. A. Lebedev (later 2nd Master, Archpriest of the Corps of Pages and member of the Educational Committee at the Holy Synod), about Blessed. Augustine and his struggle with Pelagius. Those present at the exam were Metropolitan Isidore, members of the Holy Synod, many clergy and other honorable persons. There was also the then Chief Prosecutor of the Holy Synod (1856–1865) - Count Alex. Peter. Tolstoy, known for his religiosity and piety. He surprised us with his knowledge of the teachings of the blessed one. Augustine and his works. While reading the above-mentioned essay, Count A.P. Quite unexpectedly, he voiced his objections to the lecturer. Among the clergy present, our attention was drawn in particular by one very interesting person: the rector of the Parisian embassy church, who happened to be in St. Petersburg and came from Paris, Archpriest I.V. Vasiliev. He already enjoyed great fame and glory both abroad and in Russia, thanks to his highly energetic activities during the Eastern War, the care and concern of the sick, wounded and captured Russians (1854) in France, especially the construction of the Russian Orthodox Church in Paris 174, the founding and publication in Paris, in French, of the Orthodox magazine L'Union Chrétienne (the first issue appeared on 8 November 1859) and the famous “Letters to the Bishop of Nantes”, which thundered throughout Russia, just published in April and May 1861, in the same French magazine. O. Archpriest I.V. Vasilyev was then still in his prime, relatively young; he was about forty years old; He made an impression with his very intelligent, expressive, energetic face. In no way could it have occurred to me then that this was my future father-in-law. In conclusion, the memories from the first two years of studenthood should be said about the academic order of life of government-funded students, about discipline. The inspector, Archimandrite Pavel (Lebedev, † Archbishop of Kazan), who lived with us for the first two academic years, a pupil of Makariev’s (Makariy Bulgakov, Metropolitan of Moscow) times, that is, a period of very strict discipline, was a calm, even, reasonable man, although not of a weak character, but able to distinguish between “times and summers”, who understood the mood of the students at that time, made insignificant concessions to time in order to preserve the essential, the main thing in discipline 175, therefore student life under him went smoothly, discipline was maintained in the academy and stood, if not at the level of Makaryev’s times, then approximately to this level. It was significantly shaken even earlier, under the inspectors Archimandrite Victorina (Lyubimov) and Archimandrite Epiphanius (Izbitsky), in the previous two years (1857 and 1858), especially under Victorina 176. This is the order of our lives during our junior year. Every day, except on the eves and mornings of holidays, there were evening and morning prayers, which were performed in the academic church, with the obligatory presence of all students and the inspector or his assistant. Attending services on Sundays and holidays was also mandatory for all students, and they had to stand in rows, senior students on the right side, junior students on the left. Even to the dining room they 177 had to go in pairs, not before the bell rang and the arrival of the assistant inspector, who walked around the dining room throughout lunch and dinner (dinner consisted of one course) 178 . In the morning, after prayer, at 8 o'clock, and in the evening at 4 o'clock, tea and a roll were served; tea and sugar (1/8 pound of the former and 2 pounds of the latter per month) were issued from the treasury. The inspectorate monitored the students’ careful attendance at both evening and morning prayers and lectures, for which purpose they often walked around living rooms and bedrooms at this time to make sure that there were no evaders from fulfilling their student duty. She also observed the students’ activities outside of class time in the living rooms, demanding that everyone sit at the tables and not wander around the rooms or lie on the sofas. Smoking was, of course, prohibited in the rooms, and in general smoking tobacco was not tolerated; even those who went to the “catacombs” (bakery) for this purpose were noticed. We had the right to go to the city only twice a week, Sunday and Thursday, and we had to sign up in a special book indicating where we intended to go, and received a small printed ticket at the exit. F.G. El and I. They left the academy very rarely, since they had no acquaintances in the city, except for one family - Protodeacon of the Winter Palace V.D. Nikolaevsky 179 , and then, in the second year, my relative, vice-director of the medical department, Doctor of Medicine N. I. Rozov 180 , and also fellow seminarians, students of the university (P. F. Lebedeva) and the medical academy (M. M. Dobrotvorsky), who also, for their part, sometimes visited us at the academy. Upon returning to the academy from the city, students with their vacation tickets had to report to the inspector by 9 pm. At the same time, the room elders came to him with a report on whether everything was fine with them, as well as the elder on duty throughout the academy. At 11 o'clock the busy rooms were locked. Such procedures were observed quite carefully in our first academic year. The next day, some, albeit small, retreats gradually began, especially regarding the exit to the city. We already left the academy quite freely and on days other than the two appointed for that purpose, we sloppily signed up in the book to go out into the city, and then (however, it seems, already in the third year, after the inspector Archimandrite Pavel) the book itself disappeared. At that time, 1860–1861, Sunday schools began, in which we, students of the Theological Academy, also participated. The then leaders in the organization of these schools began to appear in the student rooms: the military auditor general Filosofov and the priest A.V. Gumilevsky 181 . Of the students, senior student V. G. Pevtsov (later 1st Master of the XXIV course, 1861, † Professor of Theology and Archpriest of the School of Law) took a particularly active part in Sunday schools. F.G. El and I. We also studied in one of the Sunday schools, namely Vladimir, which once, when we were there, was visited even by the then Minister of Public Education (1858–1861) E.P. Kovalevsky. In general, even in the second academic year, moderately strict discipline was maintained at the academy, thanks mainly to the inspector Archimandrite Pavel. It was not the same in the next two years, when we moved to the senior year, when the previous inspector left, and the new one did not arrive for a long time, until the month of May, and the successor, Rev., took the reins of government into his own hands. Nektaria – Rev. Ioannikiy. We will see below what came out of these changes in the academic administration. Senior year: 1861/62–1862/63 academic years We successfully moved in the fall of 1861 from the junior year to the senior year, but we began it very unfavorably. The students who were the best in terms of success were appointed room elders, those first on the list were appointed over their own comrades, and others were appointed over the students of the junior, newly formed XXVI year. I was assigned to a room, one of the best, the last one in the hall, adjacent to it, No. 9, inhabited by my own comrades, and the next room after ours, the corner one, the best, brightest room, also with our comrades (I think No. 10), was entrusted to the seniority of M. I. Vladislavlev. I don’t remember in which room F.G. El-ii was appointed senior. The lectures began and proceeded safely until October 4, 1861, when something completely unexpected for us happened, took us out of the usual rut and had enormous consequences for our entire 25th course, namely, “an incident in the Greek class,” as the event described below was called by Moscow Metropolitan Philaret in his “Opinions and Reviews” 182. Ever since I began writing my memoirs, I have been thinking with great embarrassment and even fear about how I would be able to describe this truly unfortunate “incident.” I was afraid whether I would be able to treat impartially, on the one hand, to my comrades and partly to myself, who played a certain, albeit small, role here, on the other hand - which, of course, is the most important thing - to such a well-known and in many respects remarkable and venerable personality as our then rector, Rev. Ioannikiy († Metropolitan of Kiev), the respectful memory of whom is still alive among many to this day and, of course, will never die in the history of our Church. Most of all, I was afraid of offending his memory. To my great happiness and relief from my difficult situation, the other day, at a very opportune time, the memoirs of Metropolitan Leonty (Lebedinsky) of Moscow 183 appeared, completely confirming the view of the events described below that I had long ago formed and established. The testimony of the late Metropolitan Leonty is all the more important because, as the then vicar of St. Petersburg, Bishop of Revel, he was not only an obvious witness, but was also involved by Metropolitan Isidore in the official investigation of our case.\ This is what this ever-memorable saint, who was always distinguished by great good nature and straightforwardness of character, writes in his memoirs 184. The story begins from the very first moment, with the appointment of Archimandrite Ioannikis as rector of our academy. “The appointment (of Archimandrite Ioannikis) has taken place. And so we, old acquaintances (from Kyiv), met again. Archim. Ioannikiy took up the matter with zeal, but with the inspector (Archim. Paul), at first, they disagreed in their views, although due to his restraint he did not express this clearly. The spirit of the academy, as I said before, was free and it was necessary to correct what had been neglected with skill, without indulgence. The inspector, who adhered to the Nektarievsky method of popularizing, maneuvered and faked in front of the rector. This is the reason why Archim. Pavel was replaced by another person, receiving the rectorship at the Smolensk seminary. Unfortunately, the rector did not enjoy the love and trust of the students, or even the professors. His isolation, dryness and distrust did not attract his subordinates; and although he gave lectures on dogmatics efficiently, they were far from engaging, and, moreover, he was somehow illegible in pronunciation. Keeping himself far from the students, and lacking sincerity from the inspector, he naturally could act inappropriately 185. When the new inspector Vladimir (now a bishop), a wonderful and kind man, arrived, he still had to get acquainted with the academy 186, which, as a graduate of the Kyiv Academy, he did not know in spirit and direction. Ioannikiy, who had already been consecrated bishop (June 1861), did not change his tact. And a story came out at the academy, a very unpleasant one, I remember in 1863 (1861?) 187. I'll tell you about her. Due to the absence of a teacher of Greek, Predtechensky, a bachelor in history, was entrusted with teaching it. He (by the way, behaved with the students, especially with some, in a friendly manner, smoked and played cards with them), came to class and said: “Gentlemen, I don’t know Greek well, let’s do something.” The students soon stopped attending class in corpore, and then almost all of them. This is the beginning of an event that caused a stir in St. Petersburg. Predtechensky complained to the rector in exaggerated terms. And then, in the eyes of the authorities, a student revolt appeared. The rector formally informs the metropolitan about the riot - and what happened? According to the emergency protocol of the Holy Synod, up to 30 people (25?) were expelled from the academy. What a fire from an insignificant spark! The rector, by the way, assured in his report that he himself in the class convinced students to take the Greek language - and they did not listen to him. Some time later, when the student story spread throughout St. Petersburg, and the higher authorities regretted their haste, I was entrusted with making an inquiry (this was after the synod decision?) - and I discovered that the matter had come to an end because of trifles, that the rector did not address the students with an admonition in class, and in general the whole story was half composed under the dictation of Predtechensky. I found out all this to the Metropolitan, and the Synod made a decision - to accept those expelled if they submit petitions. Almost everyone, with the exception of the first, best, three or four people, applied and were accepted back. However, the academy lost talented people, for example. Vladislavlev, Sokolov and others. Vladislavlev, for example, is now the rector of St. Petersburg University. If Ioanniki had had a different tact, there would not have been a scandal. If he had told me before the formal announcement of the case, it would have taken on a different character.” To this story of a high witness, who correctly and in general (with few exceptions) accurately conveys the event of October 4, 1861, let us add how it was reflected in our then student consciousness, what details were accompanied and in what form this whole story is now presented, more than 50 years later, to a person who has experienced a lot and thought a lot about it. I would like to clarify everything, not leave anything dark in it, understand the mental state of the characters in the drama, and having understood, repent, on the one hand, and forgive, on the other... We were extremely surprised when Bachelor A.I. Predtechensky wrote in the class journal that he had only a few people at the lecture on October 4, I remember - about ten or twelve, who were named. At first we didn’t even pay much attention to this, we just energetically scolded Pr-go. I remember that while going to the dining room for dinner, they said to each other: “What did Andrei throw out of this thing (as we often called him, and here in our hearts, even with an abusive half-name)? Isn't he happy that he had so many students? Vasily Nikolaevich Karpov, no match for him, is older and more respectable, but he doesn’t write down in the journal those who were not at his lectures, and even Karpov often has no more listeners than Pr-go, who is also a temporary teacher of the Greek language. So, brothers, next time we won’t go to him at all. So he’ll see how to write us down in the journal.” Before the next class in Greek, this was carried out, without any debate or deliberate discussion of this step; It happened somehow simply, by itself. The next Greek class has arrived. No one went, except three students; even those with clergy did not go; we had four of them 188. There were only three students in the class: G.P. Penkovsky (8th master's degree), N.V. Veshchezerov (21st candidate) and Nick. P. Vinogradov (27th candidate of our course). Bachelor Pr. again wrote in the journal that he had only three students in his class, such and such. At first, we considered this matter nothing more than a personal matter of bachelor A.I. Pr-go, who was very sensitive to popularity among students and therefore offended by our insufficiently attentive attitude towards him, in his opinion. We considered him a rather frivolous person and, due to his character, capable of various tricks. It didn’t even occur to us at first that a serious business was brewing, in which the main character was played not by the young bachelor, but by a person much taller than him. But in the further course of events, we unwittingly had to change our initial opinion. Before the onset of the third - in a row, from the beginning of the described history - class of the Greek language, Rev. Ioannikiy calls the student on duty throughout the academy. Unfortunately, the person writing these lines happened to be on duty that week. “Announce to the students that if they do not go to the Greek lecture, then everyone who does not go will be expelled, even if it is the entire course. This is the will and order of the Metropolitan,” the rector told me. Instead of leaving silently and conveying to my comrades the order of my superiors, which should have been carried out, of course, unquestioningly, I allowed myself a very tactless, to say the least, act, I dared to express my opinion regarding the rector’s order conveyed to me. “In my opinion, Your Eminence,” I said, “this measure is unlikely to have the proper effect on the students; I’m afraid that they won’t go to class after all.” “You are not asked about your opinion, and it is not your business to argue, go and announce what I said,” the rector answered me, with strong displeasure expressed on his face. I very much regret that the above words escaped me. At that time, a naive thought was spinning in my stupid head: is it possible to reject the misfortune that threatened us all, to convince the rector not to carry out his orders, or at least to postpone such a drastic measure 189 . I came to my comrades and announced to them the will of the authorities. This was half an hour, well over an hour before the lecture. There was very little time at our disposal to discuss and decide what to do in this case. And we were left completely to our own devices. The rector, as the Rev. quite rightly notes. Leonty did not come to our rooms, did not gather us in the classroom or in the hall, he was in his apartment and waited for us to do. Of course, great excitement and a heated discussion began between us about the question of whether or not to go to class. There was one moment of some hesitation towards a positive decision, but it passed when one student (Ss), a generally peaceful person, far from being extreme, jumped up on the table and said: Messrs. Comrades, it’s enough for you to hesitate and wander back and forth. If you are truly convinced of insulting the entire course, then do not go to class, but if not, then go. After that, the majority, twenty-five people, decided not to go, and the minority, sixteen people, decided to go. Among the first were M.I. Vladislavlev and F.G. Eleonsky, among the latter were both Barsovs, T. and N., and I, who decided to take such a step not so much out of my inherent law-abidingness, but (I repent of this) out of a sense of self-preservation. As a somewhat official person, a senior on duty, and even one who dared to object to the authorities, I thought, I would be doubly guilty if I didn’t go to class, and I wouldn’t avoid expulsion, even if they pardoned all my other comrades who were not in the class. Then everything was as the Rev. says. Leonty. After the expulsion of twenty-five students from our course, a “noise in St. Petersburg” began - in spiritual circles, of course; Regrets about us were heard among our professors, the clergy, and even some secular persons 190 close to the academy. It was heard that not everyone in the Holy Synod approved of the extremely drastic measures of our rector. Then, probably under the influence of all these rumors, it was announced that those expelled could submit petitions for admission to the academy, with the obligation to submit to academic discipline. Each of these expelled individuals was separately called to the board of the academy, interrogated, and selected for subscription. The deadline for filing a petition was set to be very short - one day. One of those excluded was late, submitted a petition the next day and was not accepted (I. Ya. Sprogis). Out of twenty-five, nineteen people were accepted back into the academy. The remaining six people partly did not submit the petition themselves, partly their request was not respected. These six people were: M.I. Vladislavlev 191, who did not submit a petition, E.N. Zhdanov 192, the most talented of those excluded after Vladislavlev (it seems that he also did not submit a petition), N. I. Sokolov 193, F. I. Abramovich 194, I. Ya. Sprogis 195 and Konstantin Sokolov 196. It was unclear to us why these particular individuals were excluded. They did not stand out from our environment as anything special, in the sense of rebellion; They did not particularly agitate in our case and generally behaved, it seemed, like the rest of us at that time. Did the authorities have any special information about them that was unknown to us? All those expelled were sent to their homeland under the supervision of their parents, sent (as they said then) with police monitoring their departure. From their places of exile we later received letters from them that tore our hearts. Even before the final decision on the fate of twenty-five of our comrades, we, sixteen people who separated from them and were in Pr-go’s class on October 4, felt very bad. I felt sorry for my comrades, and extremely ashamed and embarrassed in front of them; I felt that our connection with them had been broken. And therefore we decided to restore it by submitting a collective statement to the board of the academy, in which we wrote that although we carried out the will of the authorities, we share the conviction of our expelled comrades regarding the impossibility of studying with Bachelor Pr-m, due to the broken moral connection with him, and we ask that we be considered as guilty as our twenty-five expelled comrades. I confess that I took a very active part in the drafting and editing of this statement. The application was submitted 197, and for it we were given a severe reprimand, which was announced solemnly in the hall where we were invited for this purpose. With the movement and development of events, our original view of October 4th has completely changed. Previously, we blamed Pr-go for everything, but now we began to look at this whole matter as the rector’s business. We began to remember the past. Rev. Ioannikiy had been warning us for a long time, almost from the very moment he arrived from Kyiv, that we must either unquestioningly submit to the academic order, or those who did not want to, let them leave the academy. He told us this several times. I remember once I came to the dining room with such speeches - probably in order to take advantage of the opportunity - to declare my will in the presence of all the students, without deliberately gathering them in the hall for this purpose. Such speeches set us up to expect something bad that would certainly happen to us. In addition, even before the arrival of Rev. Ioannikiy from Kyiv, since the autumn of last 1860, we received alarming letters from the Kyiv Academy from the students there, saying that their former inspector, and at this time (since December 7, 1859) the rector, was coming to us, who would certainly expel our students, just as he expelled several people (they said then, ten or twelve) from the Kyiv Academy. Such rumors, combined with the speeches of the rector, did not bode well for us and involuntarily set us against him. Meanwhile, these rumors were a great exaggeration, and there was only part of the truth. Undoubtedly, this refers to the student movement of the twentieth year of the Kyiv Academy (1857–1861), whose students, when they were in the “junior year”, therefore in 1857/8 and 1858/9, almost brought the academy to “complete anarchy”, the result of which, however, was not the dismissal, but the voluntary withdrawal from the academy of four students 198 . Rev. Ioannikiy, undoubtedly, was somewhat, however to a small extent, involved in the history of this movement, which began under his supervision, although it ended after him. “Signs of unusual fermentation had already begun,” writes Professor V.F. Pevnitsky in his memoirs, “and they worried a lot about Ioannikiy as an inspector; “In view of them, Ioannikiy is already expressing fears for his fate: he will have to go to a monastery,” he said in a private intimate circle.” He stayed only 5 months, at the “beginning of the movement” - until October 6, 1858, when he became rector of the Kyiv Seminary. Probably, soon after his release from the academy, in the same 1858, the Kiev student history began, which we described in the previous note. So, the rumors from Kyiv were factually incorrect regarding the participation of the rector Ioannikis in the expulsion of supposedly ten or twelve students, but they were deeply true regarding the persecutorial, so to speak, mood of our new rector. He came to us with his impressions of Kyiv, with an extremely gloomy view of the students. Is it easy for a person, still young and energetic, to say: “I’ll have to go to a monastery”; Apparently, he had a hard time at his native academy because of its students. Thus, our Kyiv colleagues unwittingly committed a crime against us - they spoiled the rector for us, instilling a gloomy mood in him and extremely intensifying his natural suspicion. At the same time, seeds of suspicion were thrown at us, and the rector, with his careless speeches and actions, allowed them to grow. Thus, a suffocating atmosphere of mutual suspicion was created among us, which erupted into a storm that brought a lot of grief to both sides. Meanwhile, we did not have even a shadow of anything similar to the Kiev “collapse”. Perhaps we experienced some liberal trends from the university, but in any case our life went on as usual, with minor violations of discipline. We were even afraid of Inspector Pavel. In general, we were quiet students, we did not behave as highly and conceitedly as, for example, the students of the Moscow Academy whom I saw when I arrived in Sergiev Posad in 1863. And no wonder: St. Petersburg, in which there are so many authorities and greats of this world, as well as other higher educational institutions and all kinds of scientific institutions, unwittingly belittled us. Rev. Ioannikis did not consider all this (although he had enough time for that - a whole year) and did not weigh it. Apparently, he was haunted by an obsession (idée fixe): in contrast to the extreme weakness of the Kyiv rector's power (Archimandrite of Israel) - to show the firmness of his power in the new rector's office, to make a revolution in our student life, which he, with his characteristic persistence, gradually prepared, looking for a suitable case. And this opportunity presented itself. In the “case of October 4,” we immediately, after the well-known order of the rector, through the duty officer, saw a casus belli and decided that all this was the business of the rector exclusively 199, who had long hinted to us about the need to expel some of us. They began to say that it was he who “ordered” Priest to write down those who had not been in the Greek class in the class register for the first time. The assumption regarding the “order” is completely implausible, although it did not seem so to us at the time. Such a rude reception could not be tolerated by such an intelligent and not devoid of subtlety person as the Reverend. Ioannikiy. Who took the initiative for the first entry in the journal earlier on October 4, one can now only make assumptions about this, more or less probable. This could have been done, we do not say “on the advice”, but “with the knowledge” of the rector, that is, that the rector knew in advance about this risky step of the young bachelor and, if he did not approve, then in any case did not stop it 200. More important, however, than this first moment is the second, on October 4, when Rev. Ioannikiy did not take any measures to resolve the incident, if not through his direct participation (conversation with us or with the room foremen), then at least through the same Pr-go, whom he could have advised to talk with the students, through his fellow countrymen, and somehow hush up and extinguish the students’ outburst. And if he did nothing of the kind, then he clearly showed that he had a greater share of active participation in the history of our unfortunate “incident” than Bachelor Pr. Therefore, one can hardly agree with the Rev. Leonty, as if “this whole story was half composed under the dictation of Predtechensky. I found out all this to the Metropolitan,” etc. The last words show that this is the conclusion of the investigator on our case, as presented to the highest authorities - the Metropolitan. It is worthy of note that Rev. Leonty, at the end of the description of our entire history, complains that Reverend. Ioannikiy “did not appreciate the relationship towards him, which, I can say, remained noble and fraternal, either then (that is, in our business?) or later, when we were both present in the Synod” (see next note). Is it because of these “brotherly relations” that he significantly reduced the degree of active participation of the Most Reverend. Joannikia in our history, dumping “half” of it on the head of Pr-go? The idea of ​​“composing this whole story under Pr-go’s dictation” also seems implausible. Acting under someone else's “dictation” does not at all fit with the character of the Reverend. Joannikia, independent, firm, initiating. Isn’t it more correct to imagine our whole business like this: a cruel blow to the direction of the students had long been prepared in the mind and heart of the Most Reverend. Ioannikis was at first intended (in mind, at least) for the Kyiv students, but then, bypassing them, it hit us and struck us with redoubled force. And we, although we ourselves are guilty in many ways, suffered more and more severely for our sins than we deserved. This is according to an ordinary legal assessment, but from a higher point of view, this is affected by the inexorable law of imputation and inheritance by some of the guilt of others belonging to the same family. This is what a person now thinks, close to the end of his earthly career. But, of course, we didn’t think so at the time. The epilogue of our drama was in Moscow, where to the ever-memorable Metropolitan of Moscow Philaret at that time, and even after, for dozens of years, everything that was in any way out of the ordinary was sent from the Holy Synod - for advice, consideration and a final decision - so to speak, a resolution. Our case was also sent there. True, there was one more, final moment of this epilogue, it was abroad, in London, at the “then terrible Herzen”, in his notorious “Bell”, but this speech of our foreign defender did not have significant significance for our cause and was many times less important than what happened in Moscow 201. And in Moscow the following happened. The brilliantly wise Moscow Metropolitan Philaret responded to the Chief Prosecutor of the Holy Synod, Count A.P. Tolstoy, to the latter’s request regarding our case with such a calm, deep, subtle, damning analysis of “the incident in the Greek class of St. Petersburg. spirit. Academy”, that this analysis did not only harm our rector, Rev. Ioannikiy, but also Metropolitan Isidore. Let us take the liberty of making excerpts from this wonderful document and emphasizing some passages and expressions in it (our italics). “About an incident in the Greek class of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy 202,” writes Metropolitan Philaret, “what was reported to me, I read and returned. What are my thoughts on this matter, please see from the attached note. Confidentially. 1. From the students’ explanations, much is revealed that requires attention. 2. Admitted to neglecting this class. A trait conducive to lenient judgment. 3. Raises attention to tank neglect. Predtechensky... This reduces the guilt of students and blames the mentor... 4. It is incredible that other mentors did not have absences, but apparently they did not show this in the journal... In this case, part of the blame falls on them of the students, to whom the legal measure, which was not used for a long time due to negligence, seemed offensive and childish... 14. It is a pity that the threat of expulsion was used. It was difficult for those on whom it fell, and reduced the freedom of superiors to provide leniency 203... 17. It is good that out of 25 students. 19 acquired the condescension of the authorities, but it would be better for the present and the future if this were not to cancel the word previously spoken by the authorities. The free action of the authorities is conducive to good feelings; concession does not have this effect.” In conclusion, among the advice on how to act in cases similar to the one under consideration, the truly wise saint recommends “correcting the misdeeds of students with appropriate gentle measures” and “if anyone does not accept admonitions and gentle measures of correction, he should be immediately and decisively removed from the academy, and this circumstance should be brought to the attention of the higher authorities.” (16 October 1861) The existence of this enormously important “confidential” document, of course, was not known to us at that time (and if it had been known, what rejoicing we would have had on this occasion!). But it, without a doubt, was known to the authorities, including the Most Reverend. Joannikia. Now it becomes clear all the further behavior of our rector in relation to us, and not only to us. A lesson was read to him from Moscow, which was memorable to him throughout his life and, we have reason to think, saved him in the future from repeating mistakes and false steps similar to those he made in the October history of our unfortunate XXV course. The above document not only directly condemns the “threat of expulsion,” but also makes it clear that the rector did not use “appropriate meek measures,” exhortations, etc., and therefore his course of action is clearly not approved. Rev. Ioannikiy really did not take the slightest step in this direction, as Rightly Rev. Leonty. However, it would hardly have been better if he had come to us then; Perhaps something even worse would have turned out, given our excitement at that time and his inability to perform this kind of performance. The fact is that Rev. Ioannikiy was completely unsuited for the role of peacemaker, as a man of “closed, dry, distrustful character” (characteristic of the Most Reverend Leonty). This role required cordiality, an open, direct character, the ability to influence young minds and hearts, 204 and he only had intelligence, firmness of principles and remarkable energy. These last properties later promoted him far from a number of congregations and gave him the opportunity to do a lot of useful things for the Church and the spiritual educational department, especially in the field of improving the material resources and needs of the clergy (candle factories - on his initiative, hostels at seminaries in Saratov and Nizhny, etc.), but he was not born to be a successful teacher. This is how he appeared to us, acting “inappropriately” and “without tact,” as the Most Reverend delicately expresses him. Leonty. But every cloud has a silver lining. Our “incident in the Greek class” served as Rev. Ioannikios to great benefit and to science for the future. We heard from someone that he directly expressed remorse for his actions on October 4, 1861. As an intelligent man, he understood with his mind, if not felt in his heart, the mistake he made in relation to our course. That is why we see a great change in his treatment with the subsequent XXVI course of our academy. This course enjoyed some special attention and favor from him, as if he wanted to make amends for his guilt before the students, and, in turn, the students of this course retained a kind and grateful memory of their rector 205. Great caution and leniency are noticeable in his actions in academic student affairs and subsequently, when he was Metropolitan of Moscow and Kyiv. One of the former students of the Moscow Academy in the 1890s, for example, told us how Metropolitan Ioannikiy of Moscow delayed for a very long time in resolving one student case, about the riots that arose among the students of the Moscow Academy regarding October 1 (the day of the annual act of the academy), and how, to their great surprise, he finally decided this matter almost completely in favor of the students, which did not at all fit with the stern character of the metropolitan. When I told my interlocutor our story and its outcome, he noticed that now everything was clear to him and he was no longer surprised by what had previously seemed surprising and incomprehensible to him. It seems that it was precisely in connection with the mentioned student case that Metropolitan Ioannikiy (as my interlocutor reported) put it this way: “Someday the Moscow Academy will know what I did for it.” He acted in exactly the same way in Kyiv, in relation to the students of the local academy; “He treated student riots with great caution,” according to one venerable professor at the Kyiv Academy. One can only be glad that our XXV course served, so to speak, as a scapegoat for student sins not only of the preceding Kiev XX course of “rebels,” but also of subsequent courses at the Moscow and Kiev academies. All this is true, all this is good, and for all this - glory to God, who arranges everything for our benefit. But what happened to us then?.. It would have been more convenient to remain silent about this if I had not taken upon myself the difficult task of being a truthful describer of the events of that time. So, I continue. Our state of mind after October 4 was truly terrible, we completely lost our calm and lived like hunted animals. The anger against the rector was terrible; they could not find words to express their indignation at him; our poets even composed a swear song (“Anika Mister”, etc.), which they sang loudly, without any embarrassment, everywhere in the academy. After the October story, all of us, without exception, the room elders, were demoted to privates and placed above us, in three rooms (including mine) as elders of three of our comrades who were in the Greek class on October 4, and in the remaining rooms - students of the junior XXVI year, so that some of our comrades found themselves under the command of the younger students. Three of our mentioned comrades, now our new elders, were excommunicated by us; we did not shake hands with them, did not speak to them, were angry with them for treason and, in addition, suspected them of espionage. This continued until the end of the course, which was very difficult and, combined with hostile relations with the rector, filled the cup of our mental suffering. Given this mood, it is not surprising that we were very gloomy about our future. We thought that at the end of the course we would not even be given academic degrees or would be given lower degrees, instead of a master's degree we would be given a candidate's degree, and instead of a candidate's degree we would be graduated with the title of student of the academy. And so they went into all sorts of troubles. Rev. Ioannikiy wanted to raise the academic discipline that, in his opinion, had fallen, for which purpose he arranged for us on October 4, and in the end the result of his efforts was truly deplorable. Our discipline has fallen to the last degree. The academy has never seen greater debauchery than in our 25th year, neither before nor, probably, after us, so at times our ugly behavior made life very difficult even for us, violators of academic order (judging by ourselves). We developed a terrible drunkenness, we drank both outside the academy and in its building itself, where we had drinking parties from time to time, and everyone necessarily participated in them, even those who (like the one writing these lines) did not like wine at all. There were days, and there were many of them, when disgusting traces of an ugly evening and night were found in very many of our comrades’ beds in the bedrooms 206 . They smoked not only in busy rooms and bedrooms, but even in the dining room during tea time and after lunch and dinner. Attending lectures, evening and morning prayers and services became very sloppy. They went to the city whenever they wanted and returned very late, and sometimes did not return at all, returning only the next day. What, readers will ask, were the academic authorities and the inspectorate looking at? For the first seven months, from October 1861 to May 12, 1862, we did not have a real inspector. And it is precisely during this period of time that the extreme manifestations of our ugly life fall. The position of inspector was temporarily filled at this time by ordinary professor V.I. Dolotsky, one of the oldest professors at the academy, and the assistant inspector was Hieromonk Afanasy (Turchinovich), master of the Kyiv Academy, a young man, of a gentle character, condescending, and also not authoritative. Both of them very rarely looked into our rooms and into the dining room; The assistant inspector attended evening and morning prayers, but did not pay attention to those who were absent. Rev. Ioannikios also apparently gave up on us and left us to our own devices. I don’t even remember if he visited us during this time. Yes, perhaps, his attitude towards us was the best then - given our then mood and embitterment. When the acute period of our suffering ended and, moreover, the time for summer exams arrived, on May 12, 1862, our real inspector, the unforgettable and kind Archimandrite Vladimir (Petrov; † Archbishop of Kazan), Master of the Kyiv Academy, a man who in many respects represented the complete opposite of the rector, finally arrived. With his kindness, cordial, truly fatherly and extremely delicate attitude towards us, he greatly contributed to the fact that our spiritual wounds were gradually healed and healed. And the time had come such that it involuntarily diverted our attention from our heartfelt sorrows towards the events taking place in St. Petersburg, and then the great work that lay ahead of us - compiling dissertations for academic degrees, the so-called “course” essays. And what a time it was then for St. Petersburg, and for all of Russia, a simple chronological date speaks eloquently about this: it was 1862 - the year of the impending Polish uprising and the grandiose St. Petersburg fires. Petersburg was then experiencing an alarming and at the same time somewhat unstable and oscillating state. Throughout the entire St. Petersburg intelligentsia, starting from its highest strata, there was a “Polish” mood. Quite a lot of purely Russian people, religious, patriots at heart 209, were imbued with some kind of sentimental pity for the Poles and expressed sympathy for them. There was noticeable hesitation within the government itself. Only M.N. Katkov in Moscow stayed awake for everyone and smashed the government. Instead of E.P. Kovalevsky, the famous liberal A.V. Golovnin (1861–1866) was appointed Minister of Public Education. Unrest began among university students and other higher secular educational institutions and student gatherings in the square in front of the Kazan Cathedral. We, students of the Theological Academy, were also invited to these gatherings; but very few of us have been there. However, this invitation is very memorable to me: in our student half, in the lower corridor, on the way to the dining room, on the window sill, there was a sheet of paper with the heading: “Those who wish to participate in the gathering on the square of the Kazan Cathedral, which was to take place (at that time), are pleased to sign their names.” Who, when and why this ridiculous sheet was thrown away is unknown. If they wanted to notify us about a meeting that was about to take place, then it would be enough to simply write that, they say, it is going to be there and then, why else would they offer to sign the names? If this were in our time, they would certainly say that this was a provocation, but then this now very popular word was not yet in use at all. Probably some university student, a fellow seminary student of our students, came up with this brilliant idea, which, in essence, looked very much like a trap for inexperienced youths. And there were such stupid people, about five people, who signed on this sheet. Seeing the sheet with the signatures of the surnames, I was so puzzled and so filled with fear for the comrades who had signed that I immediately, without even reading their surnames, tore the sheet and threw it right there in the corridor into the stove 210. Our students still sometimes attended these gatherings, but only out of curiosity. In general, as far as I know, there were no revolutionary-minded people among us, although there were quite a few who liked to read the underground literature of that time; I was not one of them. We even had one amateur - a collector (I.V. P-v), from whom one could find all the copies of the works of the underground - from which, like from a dung heap, stinking, poisonous leaves then flew out in huge quantities - a completely harmless person, who became a collector not out of his inner disposition towards the revolution, but only out of boasting to his comrades; Look, they say, this is what I am. According to rumors, he later turned out to be a very strict head of the theological school. And in general, all of our liberals of that time were as strict in life and in the service as this collector. In the same summer of 1862, terrible fires began in St. Petersburg, which terrified the St. Petersburg residents. Every day it caught fire in many, ten or more places at once. Obviously, there were arson attacks organized by some hand to intimidate the government. It is not difficult to guess whose hand was at work here: a Polish uprising was being prepared. People blamed students for the arson and fires, who allegedly smeared fences and wooden houses with some kind of composition that was flammable from the sun's rays. In view of this, students, including us, were afraid to walk on the sidewalks, near houses, and walked in the middle of the street 211; talked about cases of people beating students suspected of arson. A particularly strong impression in St. Petersburg was made by the fires of the so-called “crush” (Apraksin Dvor and Shchukin), the building of the Ministry of Internal Affairs and Peskov. Sands, with the current Rozhdestvenskaya (1–10th) streets, were all burned out, the most insignificant part of the houses remained. The biggest fire in the flea market happened in the evening, probably at the beginning of June, during our exams. My friend and I were traveling by boat from Oranienbaum to St. Petersburg. Approaching St. Petersburg, we saw a huge glow, it seemed to us that almost the whole of St. Petersburg was burning, and when we drove up and approached Nevsky Prospect from Admiralteyskaya Square, we saw that the entire Nevsky Prospect, from its very beginning from the square, was lined with carriages and things and was completely impassable, which is why we had to make our way to the academy by roundabout routes, through neighboring streets. The fire in the building of the Ministry of Internal Affairs happened around the same time, I remember in the afternoon. It was so strong that stacks of burnt papers flew into our academic garden and yard. This is how the third year of our general stay at the academy and the first year of our senior year passed for us, that is, the autumn and part of the winter of 1861, and the rest of the winter months, the spring and summer of 1862. A truly extremely difficult year of sad memory! We should now move on to our studies in the senior year. But I cannot keep silent about one interesting incident in our life at that time. Also in 1861, a month and a half after October 4, our fellow countryman, the famous writer N.A., died. Dobrolyubov († November 17, 1861). We, with F.G. El-m, like his fellow countrymen, and, in addition, who knew him well from the seminary (and F. G. El-kyi even visited his apartment once, in St. Petersburg, shortly before his death, probably on the occasion of October 4), considered it their duty to attend his funeral, and, admittedly, curiosity also prompted us to do the same, we wanted to see the writers of that time. My friend N. G. Blagoveshchensky also joined us. We went to the Volkovo cemetery, early in the morning, of course, secretly (this was on weekdays and we would have to attend lectures) from the authorities, from whom, however, no prohibition was issued on this occasion; Perhaps it didn’t even know about the funeral of the popular writer; At that time, there was no such noise in the newspapers on such occasions as there is now. We arrive at Volkovo before the arrival of the sad procession, meet it on the street and see a very small number of people participating in it, about thirty or forty people, no more, and, moreover, exclusively the literary fraternity, representing a small group of people, very poor, not to say poor, and sloppily dressed, with disheveled, long hair and mostly wearing glasses. There was no trace of a crowd of outside audiences, youth, students, numerous wreaths, chariots, etc., which is now an indispensable part of the funerals of more or less prominent public figures, writers, artists, etc.; all this had not yet become a custom. In a word, it was the most ordinary funeral of a poor person. I don’t remember if there were any wreaths; The coffin was carried, it seems, in their hands. We entered the church, and all this literary brethren assumed the most relaxed poses, felt at home in the church, many stood with their backs to the icons and the altar and engaged in loud conversation. Such extreme indecency had such a strong effect on the priest who was preparing to begin the liturgy that he came out of the altar and in energetic terms asked those present to behave more decently in the church, out of respect, if not for religion - which they, perhaps, he noticed, did not recognize at all - then at least for a public place in which the duty of decency requires them to behave as they should. The priest's speech apparently had an effect on the writers; the conversations became quieter and their backs turned away from the icons and the altar in the proper direction, but, as I noticed, not one of the writers crossed themselves once during the liturgy and funeral service. When, after the funeral service, they carried out the coffin and lowered it into the grave, the then famous and famous poet N. A. Nekrasov, with a badly worn face, recited, in a hoarse and somehow additionally dull and hoarse voice, the famous dying poem of the deceased: “Dear friend, I’m dying,” etc. Then the publicist N. G., who then became very famous, also spoke. Chernyshevsky. With a very bilious face, a kind of shrill voice, a high timbre tenor, very unpleasantly affecting the nerves, he read excerpts from the diary of the deceased, adding to the passages he read his comments, saturated with the same bile as his face. Everything was concluded with a short speech by some student of the Medical, or, as it was called then, the Medical-Surgical Academy (I don’t remember the content of the speech). That's all we saw and heard at the funeral of our fellow countryman, at least outstanding in his talent, and our former co-educate at our native seminary. It is extremely unfortunate that he did not use his great talents to serve the Church and spiritual enlightenment. N.A. died Dobrolyubov, being no more than 25 years old. He entered the Pedagogical Institute at the age of 17 (1853) + 8 (until 1861) = 25 years. In the senior year, the following courses were taught: dogmatic theology, moral theology, accusatory theology, history and exposure of the Russian schism, ancient church history, modern church history, Russian church history, liturgics, church jurisprudence, homiletics, Greek, Hebrew and modern languages. Dogmatic theology was taught by two professors: the rector, Rev. Ioannikiy and inspector Archimandrite Vladimir (Petrov). Rev. Ioannikiy, with the rank of ordinary professor, is Ivan Rudnev, 1st master of the XIV Kyiv course, 1849, a classmate of another, also 1st master of the XVIII St. Petersburg course, the same 1849, Ivan Yanyshev († Protopresbyter I.L. Yanyshev), - a man, without a doubt, very talented, which was evident from his lectures, but as a professor he was far from being as brilliant as his classmate (in a different, however, department - moral theology) and successor, although not immediate 212, as rector at the St. Petersburg Academy. Rev. For the first year, Ioannikis read dogmatic theology to us alone. He devoted a very large number of lectures, almost over the course of a whole year, to reviewing the Old Testament prophecies about the Messiah - Christ the Savior. We were told then that these lectures were nothing more than an extract from his master’s thesis. Intended to study the Holy Scriptures, both through his dissertation and his initial academic department (he was left at the Kyiv Academy, after completing the course in 1849, as a bachelor in St. Scripture), he naturally gravitated primarily towards the area of ​​dogmatic data contained in Holy Scripture, and in this area he revealed thorough and great knowledge. He paid little attention to the patristic works. Among his other readings, his lectures on evil spirits are memorable. Here we were struck by the masterful depiction of the psychological state of the fallen angels, directed, as it seemed to us then, directly at our then mental state, with obvious hints of it as a state analogous to the state of fallen spirits. These lectures were given shortly after October 4, 1861. He gave lectures, often, however, abandoning his notes, but he was not distinguished by his good gift of words and especially diction. The remark of Rev. Leonty about his lectures: “He (Reverend Ioannikis) read lectures on dogmatics, although efficiently, but far from exciting, and also somehow illegible in pronunciation.” He apparently had a natural deficiency in this regard, which greatly harmed him in his professorship. His assistant in the department of dogmatics was the extraordinary professor (from June 6, 1862) Archimandrite Vladimir (Petrov), a man of the most beautiful soul, but as a professor even less than the Most Reverend. Ioannikiy was able to captivate his listeners. He, as if in a daze, read something to us, and we dozed off during his lectures. He read from the second part of dogma - he read his first academic course of lectures. Absolutely nothing remains in my memory from his readings. I'm afraid of sinning against the truth, but it seems that he adhered to the dogmatic theology of the Most Reverend. Macarius (Bulgakov). We undoubtedly prepared for the exams using this essay. We, however, loved and revered Archimandrite Vladimir so much that we tried to diligently attend his lectures; I remember his auditorium was never empty. He taught for us only for one academic year, 1862/3, the last year of our stay at the academy, when we were completely immersed in the preparation of our dissertations, showing little interest in lectures at all. Lectures on moral theology were given to us by Hieromonk Afanasy (Turchanovich) 213, with the rank of bachelor, a man not devoid of talent, but rather sickly, not of a representative appearance and who did not display the gift of speech. He was reading from some German work, then quite famous; I can’t remember which one now. Although his lectures were generally good and worthy of an academic department, they smelt of some kind of German-philosophical sentimentalism. They presented a very harmonious system, but with some kind of, so to speak, non-Russian flavor. It's a pity that Fr. Afanasy did not rework the German system, did not translate it not only in letter, but also in form, from German to Russian taste and taste. He was new to the academic department, he taught our course, only the second, after the transition from seminary to academic service. We listened to this teacher quite carefully. We liked him like a kind assistant inspector. Accusatory theology was read to us by I. T. Osinin 214, first a bachelor, and then, towards the end of our course (1863), an extraordinary professor, a rather brilliant young professor who had a good knowledge of modern languages, the gift of words and very good diction, with a foreign, albeit Danish accent (for example, he always said “bulo” instead of “was”) and an accent, like the son of a Danish woman whom his father married, psalmist of our embassy church in Copenhagen. I. T. Osinin gave lectures from notes, but with very frequent deviations from them to live speech. His lectures on Roman Catholicism, the Reformation and Protestantism with its sects, on the Anglican faith, were informative and interesting, at times, however, somewhat vague and not without verbosity. What prevented him from concentrating on his subject and finishing his lectures was his impulses to expand his activities into not only the literary, but also the practical. At that time, he published many articles in Christian Reading on his subject 215 and even then began to penetrate high society, the circle of people grouped around Grand Duchess Elena Pavlovna. Subsequently, he built a brilliant career for himself in the department of Empress Maria, but this will be said in due time, when reviewing my career - at the St. Petersburg Academy. The history and denunciation of the Russian schism was read to us by I. F. Nilsky 216, a comrade of I. T. Osinin, no less, if not more talented, a bachelor, and since 1863 an extraordinary professor. He possessed both the gift of speech and an enormous memory, he delivered his lectures completely without a notebook, and for the most part did not even sit at the lectern, but walked around the class. He surprised us by reading from memory excerpts, often very long, from schismatic writings and manuscripts. Although in our time he was still new to the department, having completed the course for no more than 4 years (1857), and only began the third course of his readings with us, he seemed to us to be completely master of his subject. The view of the schism was kept in the middle between extreme views: between the view that found nothing in the schism except stupid, ignorant stubbornness and adherence to antiquity in trifles, and the view of the schism as a popular protest against the transformations of Peter the Great. We listened to this young professor of ours with great attention and interest and treated him with sympathy. Three people read church history to us: the general ancient history, before the division of the Churches, by ordinary professor I.V. Cheltsov, the new history by bachelor A.M. Ivantsov-Platonov, the history of the Russian Church by extraordinary professor M.O. Koyalovich. I. V. Cheltsov 217, an ordinary professor of ancient church history, who enjoyed great authority at the academy, read to us about the first three centuries of Christianity, the time of persecution of the Christian Church, adhering to his printed history of the Christian Church, and then - history from the 4th century - from his notes. For exams and rehearsals (which, however, I don’t remember), he gave a fairly short summary. I didn’t read biblical history, although it was part of his reading range (there was no separate department for it in our academy). To force us to study it at least a little, he gave us a topic for an essay - about the desired organization of readings on biblical history. Not particularly possessing the gift of speech, he, however, spoke his lectures rather than read them, and was distinguished by his wit and great skill in vividly depicting the events of church life and in vividly characterizing church-historical figures of the golden Christian age and the period of ecumenical councils. He cared not about the quantity of factual material, but about its bright illumination, in which he succeeded, strongly supporting our attention. Captivating us with his characteristics and pictures of ancient church life, he himself, apparently, was carried away by them, which is why at times he was not averse to exaggeration. So, for example, when presenting the history of Nestorian disputes, he more appropriately put forward the importance of personal and church-political elements to the detriment of purely religious, dogmatic ones, which receded into the background in his depiction. In any case, this wonderful professor enjoyed our great respect and favor, despite his harsh and rather bilious character. Among students he was known as the most strict reviewer of dissertations for academic degrees. They said about him that he “failed” his master’s thesis, and therefore when I found out that my essay had been submitted to him for consideration, I was not very happy about it, but something unexpected happened to me, as we will see later. The new church history was read by a very young bachelor, who had just graduated from the Moscow Academy, master A. M. Ivantsov-Platonov 218. He gave us the first and only course of his academic lectures. A very gifted teacher. Not possessing a lively gift of words, he read from notes very interesting lectures on the history of the Orthodox Eastern Church after the division of the Churches, especially during the era of attempts to unite them, during the era of the Union of Lyon and Florence. He enjoyed our respect and attention, and had a likable character. It is perhaps to his readings that I owe most of all the fact that for my master’s thesis I chose the topic precisely on the history of attempts to unite the Churches, although the topic was not given by him. The history of the Russian Church was read by the extraordinary professor M. O. Koyalovich. His readings had the same character and success with us as his lectures on Russian civil history in his junior year. I remember his wonderful lectures about Joseph of Volokolamsk and Nil Sorsk, their directions and their, so to speak, schools. The liturgy was read by ordinary professor Vasily Ivanovich Dolotsky 219, the oldest, after V.N. Karpov, of the academy’s professors. He read liturgics for a very long time, from the time of the establishment of this department, from 1839, that is, for twenty years before our course. He, one might say, created the science of Orthodox worship and, of course, knew his subject perfectly. He devoted a lot of time, most of his course, to “liturgics,” as this subject was called in our academy 220, that is, to the description and analysis of various church services. His lectures of this kind were very good, but they did not particularly attract our attention. We, at least me, were more interested in readings on church archeology. But here he followed the direction given to her by the luminaries of old time: Bingham, Augusti and Binterim, who reported fragmentary information on the history of the emergence of certain individual rites in the first centuries of Christianity, mainly during the performance of church sacraments. V. I. D-ky did not set himself the task of tracing the history of the gradual formation of entire liturgical rites of our Orthodox Church. Also, he did not introduce new departments into the circle of his readings - on church architecture and iconography. In general, he did not go beyond his long-established course of readings. Nevertheless, he was, in any case, an excellent and very respectable professor. Possessing a good gift of speech, he did not read his lectures, but always spoke them, albeit in a rather hoarse and hoarse voice, with copious snuffs of tobacco, 221 in a calm tone, but with significant animation. He was of a calm, even, very restrained character and was distinguished by his worldly wisdom and experience, so that he could truly be called a man of advice. These properties of his turned out to be very valuable, especially after the transformation of the academy in 1869, in meetings of the academic council, which, however, we will have to talk about later. His interesting readings were the reason that at the end of the academic course, when I was asked to choose one of two subjects to study at the bachelor’s department at the Moscow Academy - patristics or church archeology, I chose church archeology 222. Church law was read by bachelor priest A.I. Parvov 223, a good expert in his subject, a man of a practical mindset. He taught the subject in relation to the needs of persons invested with holy orders, priests, providing information necessary for them in their pastoral activities. The nature of his readings is well expressed by the very title of the printed work he later published, which represents, if not in its entirety, then with some processing, abbreviations, changes and, where necessary, additions, his academic readings on church law: “A practical presentation of church-civil decrees for the guidance of the priest when performing the most important church requirements.” He lectured, but did not speak. We would like to hear readings on this very interesting and close to life subject in a different, more theoretical and broad formulation, with clarification of the current situation and structure of our Orthodox and, in particular, the Russian Church, views on the attitude of the state towards it and vice versa - it towards state power, etc. Therefore, we were not particularly willing to go to A.I. Parvov’s lectures and did not listen to them particularly attentively, but in any case we appreciated their efficiency and the significant erudition of the teacher. Homiletics was read to us by our own brother, Rev. Nektary, our former rector, - F. S. Nadezhdin 224, master of the Kyiv Academy, who moved to the academy from teachers at the Novgorod Seminary. According to the schedule (in I.A. Chistovich’s “History of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy”), he was also required to read an introduction to theology (basic theology). But I absolutely do not remember reading on this subject and always thought that it did not exist among the subjects of our course, just like biblical history. Homiletics F. S. Nad-n, as a graduate of the Kyiv Academy, read according to the method and sample of the readings of the famous Kyiv homilet Y. K. Amfiteatrov, with significant, it seems, borrowings from him. However, I have almost no memories of the lectures on homiletics. All that remains is the memory of the appearance of the teacher, a rather sickly-looking man with a weak build, and the impression that F.S. N. was not without talent and possessed to a large extent the gift of eloquence, so that he seemed to us a person suitable for this pulpit. Hebrew and new languages ​​were taught in the senior year by the same people as in the junior year. The Greek language, after our history on October 4, 1861, was taught (from November 10 of the same year) by master I. E. Troitsky 225, with the rank of bachelor. He was summoned to the academy from the teachers of the Olonets Seminary. Knowing the Greek language thoroughly, he occupied us, in addition to translations, with lectures on the history of ancient Greek and classical literature. At that time he was just beginning his scientific career. Subsequently, he acquired great authority in the academic world in another department - new church history, which he took after A. M. Ivantsov-Platonov, who entered the priesthood in Moscow. I must admit that I moved from junior to senior year with a great prejudice against theological sciences. Now, I thought, the end of all scientific interest; All that remains is to serve a certain period of time, two years, before completing the full academic course, write a dissertation, receive an academic degree, and then I still had no assumptions about my future fate. Imagine my surprise when, along with listening to theological sciences, I began to notice that my interest in theology was awakening, which began to provide no less food for curiosity than the secular sciences (philosophical, historical), and little by little a great revolution took place in my mood and sympathies. By the end of the academic course, a strong inclination to study theological subjects had already developed. Ordinary written work, “urgent” essays, as they were called then, were assigned only in the first year of the senior year, while the last year was provided exclusively for the preparation of a “course” essay, or dissertation for an academic degree. In the school year, 1861/62, we were given many essays, as many as six, and one sermon. Why so many, when in the first years, in the junior year, only four and one sermons were given? Are we not being punished for our sins? I remember we tried to reduce their number, but to no avail. The topics were the following: 1) “The importance of worship for the Church as a society of believers” (Prof. V. I. Dolotsky); 2) “On the management of the Church of Christ according to the image of the sacred books of the New Testament” (Bak. Priest. A. I. Parvov); 3) “In what form is it desirable to have a textbook for teaching the history of the Old Testament Church” (Prof. I.V. Cheltsov); 4) “Can accusatory theology contribute to the reunification of Christian Churches and, if so, under what conditions?” (Bank. I.T. Osinin); 5) “The significance of enlightenment for the future fate of the Russian schism” (Bac. I. F. Nilsky); 6) “The distinctive character of Orthodoxy in comparison with Catholicism and Protestantism” (Reverend Ioannikios); 7) “Sermon on the day of the descent of the Holy Spirit” (Bac. F. S. Nadezhdin). I have preserved all these essays, five of them were marked with the highest score (10) and two with a score of 9½; all with very flattering reviews for me. The works of this course were so successful that two of them were subsequently published by me: one, on the schism, in I. S. Aksakov’s “The Day,” and the other, on the “distinctive character of Orthodoxy,” in “Christian Reading,” and both attracted the attention of readers. The fourth and last academic year, 1862/63, was devoted exclusively to the preparation of dissertations. We were given a lot of topics to choose from, 226, up to one hundred and fifty. With such a huge number of them, our eyes positively ran wild. The abundance of those things even served to the detriment of some of my comrades; They hesitated for a long time, for months at a time, taking first one topic or another, and the time, which, in essence, was very little (from the end of August to May 1), was running out, and they risked not submitting their dissertations on time, which unfortunately happened to some of them. Quite soon I was able to dwell on the topic given by I. T. Osinin: “Review of enterprises and attempts to unite the Eastern and Western Churches,” without limiting the period of time that should be subject to review. Apparently, the person who assigned this topic believed that within one year the student could review the entire centuries-old history of the question of the unification of the Churches. After working for two months, I found that there was absolutely no way to complete the review properly, that with great difficulty it would be possible to reach the Florence Cathedral, and therefore I turned to I. T. Osinin with a request to allow me to limit the topic by adding the words to it: “from the half of the 11th century to the beginning of the 15th.” Permission was given, and I set to work with great zeal and ardor. I set myself a serious, difficult task to present not a superficial sketch, but a complete, comprehensively outlined picture of 400 years of relations between East and West on the issue of the unification of the Churches. He spent a lot of effort collecting material - both directly related to the topic and generally necessary for studying that time in various respects. Some books were not in the academic library, I had to go to the Public Library, especially to read and excerpts from the chronicles that were very important to me (Annal. eccles.) by Rainald, the successor of Baronius. I worked completely without any guidance from the professor 227 and without a ready-made model for the intended work, since Pichler’s famous “history” (Geschichte der kirchl. Trennung zwischen Orient und Occident) came out the following year, 1864, when I was already serving at the Moscow Academy. My other comrades, more or less as diligently, worked on the subjects of their dissertations, trying their hand at large, real scientific work, and some of them experienced too much preponderance of their formal development, the ability to generalize, to the detriment of the ability to objectively study the subject. So, for example, one of my especially gifted comrades 228 told me with tears in his eyes that he was an unhappy person, because he could not calmly study the subject of his topic: his thought, as soon as it met any fact, ran ahead and plunged into generalizations. My other comrades wrote on the following topics: F.G. Eleonsky “On the state of the Russian schism under Peter I”, N. I. Barsov - also on the schism - “The Denisov Brothers, their life and significance in the history of the schism” (both of these dissertations were published: F. G. El. - in “Christian Reading”, 1863, N.I.B. – in “Orthodox Review”, 1865); T. V. Barsov - “The distinctive character of Orthodoxy in comparison with the Catholic and Protestant faiths” (theme of the Most Reverend Ioannikis, identical with the topic for the “urgent” essay). My essay was completed on time and submitted by the appointed deadline. The final exams for us have arrived, with the participation of external members of the conference. I don’t remember that these external members participated in ordinary, non-final exams, especially Christmas ones, but judging by the diary of one archpriest (P.K. Khersonsky), belonging to the next - XXVI - course, they were even present at the Christmas exams in 1862 229, therefore, they were with us this year. During the transition from junior to senior year, especially at graduation, they must be present according to regulation 230. These members were supposed to be ten; there were the same number of them in our time 231. I remember all of them well, except for the eldest of them, Archpriest I.E. Kolokolov, who, due to his old age, hardly visited us. The external members were for the most part silent assistants during the exams, but some were distinguished by their talkativeness, such as in particular Archpriest I.K. Yakhontov, publisher of “Spiritual Conversation,” the then semi-official organ of the Holy Synod. O. Yakhontov was an assistant at the homiletics exam. Not to mention the previous exams in the senior year, even the finals had completely faded from memory. I remember well only one exam, on general church history, ancient and modern, with the participation of an external member of the conference, Archpriest M. Izm. Bogoslovsky. This exam remains memorable for me for many reasons. Not every student was asked about ancient and modern church history, but one about one, and another about another. I got a very lucky ticket for me - according to new church history, namely about the time of the domination of the Latins in Constantinople (1204-1261). A. M. Ivantsov, looking (while the others called were answering) at my ticket, quietly told me not to go into too much detail, but to answer briefly; obviously he knew about my course essay and assumed that my essay classes had enriched me with much information on this issue. When my turn came, I answered, of course, very thoroughly, confidently, smartly and smoothly. Afterwards, from Professor N.I. Gloriantov, who was familiar with Archpriest M.I. Bogoslovsky, heard that the latter really liked my answer, and M.I. Bogoslovsky on this occasion remarked about me: “He will make a good bachelor of the academy.” It is more than likely that such a review of me from a respected external member of the conference would not have followed if I had come across a different ticket - from ancient church history, for which all the answers were not particularly brilliant, due to the lack of detailed notes and the existence of only a very short summary. This exam was memorable for me in other ways as well. An interesting dispute was between Professor I.V. Cheltsov, a man, as noted above, sharp and bilious, with Archpriest M.I. Bogoslovsky, Doctor of Theology, a very intelligent and respected person, also a tough character and even more sharp than Cheltsov’s. Thus, two very characteristic faces came together. For some reason the conversation turned to the lives of saints. It seems that M.I. Bogoslovsky drew attention to the historical data contained in them as something valuable. “How can you say this, you, M.I., and also a doctor of theology!” – our professor answered in his characteristic, rather poisonous tone. This last of all final exams took place not in the hall or in one of the classrooms, but in the student’s living room, and precisely in the very room in which I was placed four years ago, upon admission to the academy, under the seniority of I.D. Kasatkina († Archbishop Nicholas of Japan). The end, apparently, coincided with the beginning. Finally, before going to this exam, it turned out that my entire formal pair of clothes was stolen, and I was forced to borrow a dress from one of my comrades or younger students in order to appear for the exam in decent form, and not in a worn, everyday dress. The Academy seemed to send me away from its walls, taking away even my dress; such an omen, however, did not occur to me then. There was no public examination; at least I don’t remember him at all. At the end of the course, he went to his Nizhny Novgorod 232, F. G. El-kiy remained in St. Petersburg, at the academy. Every year, during the summer holidays, my parents sent me to Nizhny, sending me runs; once F.G. accompanied me. He usually went home along the Nikolaevskaya railway to Tver, and from Tver by steamship along the Volga to Nizhny. But once, some year (probably 1861 or 1862), he took the risk of traveling to Moscow, and from there along the newly opened section of the Nizhny Novgorod railway, to Vladimir. From Vladimir to Nizhny (220 versts), I thought, I’ll somehow get there in a carriage. The trip along the new, just opened Nizhny Novgorod railway was very pleasant. I traveled with two students (one friend, a Vladimir resident, K.F. Nadezhdin, and the other, a student at the Moscow Academy), with great comfort, they even risked taking 2nd class tickets. But all this pleasure came at a great cost; the trip from Vladimir to Nizhny ended very badly for me. The cab drivers, spoiled by rich Moscow merchants who were going to the Nizhny Novgorod fair, and now, moreover, dejected by the thought that the construction of the railway had come to an end for them, were in an extremely gloomy mood and very intractable about the price; they asked for 30 rubles for travel to Nizhny, and I had no more than five in my pocket. I had to find a place as a travel companion with a merchant family, which agreed, not particularly willingly, to place me for 5 rubles on the carriage of a tarantass, along with a cab driver. We traveled for about two days, including two nights, and in my doze I was several times in danger of falling under the horses’ feet and being crushed by the carriage. All this adventure of mine ended with the fact that upon arrival in Nizhny I fell ill. By the way, about our financial resources, with F.G. El-m, during our student years. My funds were more than modest. My parents sent me, during the academic course, two or three times a year, 5 rubles, excluding, of course, passes for a trip to Nizhny. These 10–15 rubles were barely enough for the necessary expenses, for additional government tea, sugar, rolls, milk for tea, etc. Fortunately, I didn’t smoke then, and therefore I didn’t need to spend money on tobacco. We had no idea about cab drivers; we always walked, sometimes very far 233 . F. G. El-kiy did not have my meager funds either; they sent him nothing or very little and rarely from home. Therefore, he was forced to obtain additional funds for himself through transfers. He somehow managed to get attached to the then pedagogical magazine “Teacher”, published by I. N. Paulson and N. H. Wessel, where he participated in the translation of Disterweg’s Pedagogy. Yes, and I found help for my meager funds by giving lessons in recent years to the nephew of Metropolitan Isidore, A.P. Theologian, who had not completed a course anywhere and was about to take the exam to receive a rank. I owed these lessons to another nephew of the Metropolitan, my friend N.N. Nikolsky, who came to us from Kiev 234. Upon arrival in Nizhny Presv. Nektary, our former rector, and then the bishop of Nizhny Novgorod, decided to woo me the daughter of one venerable Nizhny Novgorod archpriest, K.I. Milva, his friend at the Kyiv Academy, promising to give me a good position as a priest in Nizhny. Having thanked the Eminence for such an offer, I decisively refused it, declaring that I would like to first serve in the teaching field. I was very attracted to the academic department, although I was far from sure that I would remain at the academy. He did not stay in Nizhny for long, until August, and hurried back to St. Petersburg, preoccupied with the question of his future fate. Upon arrival at the academy, I found my comrades living in the academic hospital, where the academic authorities settled them like cut off slices. They lived in a rather unsightly environment. At that time the hospital was in a state of disrepair for some reason; I even remember that not all the glass in it was intact. I had to settle down here too. But I tried, as much as possible, to stay less in this hostel of ours, living very often with my relative, N.I. Rozov, or with a fellow countryman, Professor N.I. Gloriantov. Finally, in the month of August, probably at the end of it, the day came when our fate was decided: a conference of professors of the academy and its external members gathered. At that time, probably all of us, or at least the vast majority, were in our home - the academic hospital, anxiously awaiting the decision of our fate. After a while, A.A. suddenly comes running. Nekrasov († Professor of the Kazan Academy), unusually nimble and wherever he appeared, he brought noise, animation and laughter, and said to me: “Well, Lvovich, what kind of massacre is happening at the conference because of you, God forbid.” “What’s the matter, tell me quickly?” – I was alarmed, expecting all sorts of evils for myself on October 4th. “The rector is against you, but Cheltsov stands for you.” “Thank you, I didn’t expect it,” I could only answer A. A. N-wu. Indeed, there was something to be surprised at, not at the rector’s attitude towards me, of course - this was quite expected for me - but at Cheltsov’s defense of me, that terrible reviewer of all master’s theses. However, the dispute was not about the dissertation, but about the first place on the list. A.A. reported something else. N-v, but now I don’t remember. He obtained all this information by listening at door number 9 (my former home in my senior year), adjacent to the hall where the conference was taking place. Some other information soon reached us: about who was awarded what degrees, about places on the list, as well as scores on course essays, and finally about who was retained at the academy. It turned out that T.V. Barsov was placed first on the list and was retained at our academy as a bachelor in Greek, I was number two and was destined for a bachelor’s degree at the Moscow Academy, F. G. Eleonsky was number nine, etc. But I learned all the interesting details of the awarding of our degrees and, in particular, the heated debates because of me much later, already when I moved from Moscow to St. Petersburg and became a colleague of my former mentors. In particular, Professor I. F. Nilsky, who admired the remarkable tactics of the Most Rev., spoke a lot about how this conference took place. Ioannicia. And something, also very interesting, became known even only now, after 50 years, from the memoirs of the Most Reverend. Leonty (“Theological Bulletin”, 1914, January). First there was discussion about dissertations and the awarding of academic degrees. “At the conference,” writes Rev. Leonty, - bickering ensued. Predtechensky, a bachelor even then (?) and secretary of the conference, and then rector, wanted to graduate about 10 people with the title of full student. I rebelled against this 235... The list is based on achievement and behavior scores - and all (?) graduated with master's and Ph.D. degrees. The course of 1863, defamed, one might say, by the academic authorities, produced very efficient people who serve with honor in both the ecclesiastical and civil departments. This is how you need to skillfully handle young forces!” 236 – Rev. concludes his story. Leonty. In addition to resolving the general question of how many students should be awarded and which academic degrees, a lot of controversy arose: compiling a list and the question of who to leave at the academy as a bachelor in a vacant department. The greatest part of the disputes fell to the lot of the writer of these lines, which was overheard, as noted above, by my comrade A. A. Nekrasov and which my former mentors later reported to me. Not for my personal interest, but for the purpose of outlining and characterizing the actions of the conference at that time, I will allow myself to report everything that I heard from reliable witnesses. My dissertation met with great approval from my most strict reviewer, Professor I.V. Cheltsov, who gave it the highest score - 10, although he made many comments on my manuscript, especially on the introduction, which, however, I myself gave rise to without properly processing it 237 . Other, more lenient reviewers, however, rated my essay with lower scores: I.T. Osinin – 9½, Archpriest I.K. Yakhontov – even 8½. After reviewing the dissertations and awarding academic degrees, we began to compile a list and decide on the first places on it, and first of all, of course, on who to put at number 1. This question was important in view of the subsequent question of leaving one of us as a bachelor at the academy. There were two candidates for first place: Tim. V. Barsov and A. K-ii. A group of professors, all of whom had my best essays, spoke for me, and Rev. Ioannikiy - for T.V. Barsov. To tell the truth, our chances were almost equal. If my opponent had higher scores than me in oral answers, then I had a great advantage over him in essays for all courses, 238 and my course essay earned great approval from such an authoritative and strict judge as Professor Cheltsov, who expressed it about it, as they told me, this way: “I have already been a professor for 12 years, but this was the first time I had to read such a solid essay.” In view of the fact that essays, as always, and in this case, were given preference over oral answers (as can be seen from the place occupied in the list by F. G. Eleonsky) 239 , there is every reason to think that the first place would have remained with me if I had not been out of favor with the rector 240 . Whose side was held by the external members of the conference, led by the auditor of the academy, Rev. Leonty, unknown; probably - the side of the Reverend. Ioannikis and, therefore, spoke out for Tim. V. Barsova. This is evident from the fact that, as they told me, my lawyer-professors had to yield to the opposing side on the issue of primacy, in the hope of standing on their own when the issue of a bachelor’s degree at the academy was decided; this question was asked last. Thus, the first place on the list was given to T.V. Barsov, and to me – the second. This was followed by further compilation of the list. The final list included: in the 1st category – 13 masters 241 , in the 2nd – 30 candidates 242 and in the 3rd – 4 students = 47 people 243 . The last issue at this conference was the replacement of the department of new church history, which at that time was vacant due to the departure of bachelor A. M. Ivantsov. At the same time, Professor I.V. Cheltsov directly stated that he would like to have me as a close collaborator, a colleague in teaching church history. Fortunately, my course essay directly related to the new church history, covering a significant part of it. All the professors, my supporters, very much counted on this circumstance as very favorable for their plan - to keep me at the academy. Let, they say, Rev. Ioannikis puts his beloved Tim. Barsov in first place, and we will still leave K-go as a bachelor at the academy. But they made a big tactical, so to speak, mistake, losing to the Most Reverend. Ioannikiy in the first paragraph, regarding the first number on the list, which mistake he took advantage of to their complete defeat, for this is what happened next. While Professor Cheltsov was advocating for me as a desirable candidate for occupying the department of modern church history, I. E. Troitsky, a bachelor in Greek, suddenly declared a desire to occupy it. It is very likely that Cheltsov did not know about this desire, otherwise he would hardly have vigorously nominated my candidacy against the candidacy of his colleague, albeit a junior. Were the intentions of I.E. Troitsky, Rev., known in advance? Joannikia – this is in doubt; maybe they were. The duty of impartiality requires us to note that the Academy not only did not lose, on the contrary, it gained a lot with the election to this department not of me, but of such a subsequently excellent scientist as Professor I.E. Troitsky 244. My candidacy, of course, immediately disappeared after the aforementioned statement. Then the question arose about replacing the Greek language department, which became vacant when I. E. Troitsky transferred to another department. My supporters again began to insist on leaving me at least in this department. But here they had absolutely no ground under their feet; there was nothing for them to grab onto. We inquired about Tim's Greek score. Barsov and A. Katansky; the scores turned out to be exactly the same. To whom should this chair be given? Of course, to the one who is first on the list, that is, T.V. Barsov. “What are we going to do with K?” - asked my followers. “Here’s what,” answered the Rev. Ioannikiy. “If you have such a high opinion of K, then we will send him to the Moscow Academy, from which there is a requirement to fill one of its departments: he will probably uphold the honor of our academy.” All of the above, very skillful tactics in the fight against the opposition, and especially the last attack of the Reverend. Ioannikiy, were recognized by the then professors, my supporters, as truly masterful and deserved the following review from one of the participants in this conference: Rev. Ioannikios “broke us completely, defeating us with our own weapons.” It was in these very expressions, repeating them many times, that my venerable former mentor and then colleague, Professor I. F. Nilsky, formulated his impressions of this whole story. Soon after the conference, Rev. Ioannikiy and offers me a choice of one of the departments at the Moscow Academy - patristics or church archeology. My choice fell on church archaeology. The department of patristics was then offered to Nik. I. Barsov and I. Ya. Obraztsov, and maybe others, but they all refused such an offer and took positions as teachers in those seminaries in which the salary of teachers was then equal to an academic, bachelor's salary, that is, 429 rubles, and serving in a seminary was, of course, easier than in an academy, with increased demands from an academic teacher and with intensive efforts to study the subject, without prior preparation for that. N.I. Barsov entered the St. Petersburg Seminary, I.Ya. Obraztsov - first to Rizhskaya, and then, in 1864, to St. Petersburg. F. G. Eleonsky was first appointed to the Kazan Seminary, but refused this appointment and spent, after completing the academic course, a whole year tutoring in philosophy at one of the St. Petersburg cadet schools. Then there was a tendency to give military educational institutions a general educational character, and therefore philosophy was introduced in the cadet schools, under the head of military educational institutions, Isakov. Its teaching was entrusted to Professor I. A. Chistovich at the cadet school, it seems to be the Pavlovsk School, and he invited F. G. El-go to assist him as a tutor. F.G. spent this year (1863/64) living in an apartment with A. A. Opotsky (later Archbishop Alexy), who found employment in the editorial office of the Government Gazette. By the end of 1864 F.G. was appointed to the Lithuanian Seminary, where he served until moving to the St. Petersburg Academy in 1870, to the department of biblical history - with the rank of associate professor according to the new charter of 1869. In the Vilna (Lithuanian), as well as in the St. Petersburg, Riga and, it seems, Vitebsk seminaries, the salary was equal to the bachelor’s salary - 429 rubles. Thus, I had to go to the Moscow Academy alone. Fate again, as at the beginning of my life, brought me under the protection of St. Sergius, but separated me from my life partner F.G. for 7 years, and then, from 1870, united us again, for a whole 36 years, until the end of his life († 1906). This, I dare to think, is the true chronicle of our long-suffering, or, as the Most Rev. Leonty, “defamed” XXV course. Almost the same thing can be said about the then system of academic education as about the seminary of that time. Both these systems were in complete harmony. And in the academy there was the same multi-subject matter as in the seminary, the same mass of written work that absorbed our time and distracted our attention from studying the subjects of the course. The assessment of students' success is the same - mainly on the basis of the merits of essays. All this had little incentive for both professors and students: the former – to a purely scientific presentation of their readings, and the latter – to a possible deepening in the study of sciences. Therefore, we, the students of that time, had a natural desire for some specialization of academic course subjects and a significant reduction in written work, which came true with the advent of the academic charter of 1869, which awakened increased scientific activity and educational and literary productivity of both professors and students. Nevertheless, it would be a sin not to give a kind word to the old system of academic education. The most valuable thing about it was that it gave students excellent mental development and made them capable of any work in all possible fields of service to the Church, the fatherland and enlightenment. When we arrived at the Tver station, we were amazed by the conductor’s exclamation: “Tver station, take care of your pockets.” Passengers had to hear such a warning regarding this station for a long time (until the 70s) and in subsequent years of traveling on the Nikolaev Railway. Then we had many occasions to be convinced that in St. Petersburg at that time, not only cab drivers, but even secular educated people knew very little about our Academy, and confused it for the most part with a spiritual consistory, and others with a theological seminary. Her great fame began in 1869, when they began to publish about her in secular newspapers, regarding disputes, annual acts, etc. As soon as we entered the hotel room, he amused us with one very naive remark. Seeing a cat in the room we occupied, he exclaimed: “You know what, brothers: this cat is from the capital!” Probably, he thought, at the same time: look how many hundreds of miles I had to travel to get from Yekaterinburg to St. Petersburg, and this animal from the day of its birth has enjoyed the benefits of metropolitan life and is truly a native metropolitan resident. Although the hotel in which we were forced to stay was far from being one of the first-class, it was still beyond our means, especially F.G. Elm and I. Our companion was much richer than us. My poor parent provided me with very little money. Even without that, we had to spend a lot on our trip, and there was still a contribution for the initial uniform (34 rubles 28 k.) from each volunteer accepted for government support. The full pay of someone admitted to the academy, but on their own support, that is, a boarder, was then 143 rubles. 16 k. per year. I don’t remember at all how F.G. El-go’s financial affairs worked out. Probably my grandfather collected the last crumbs for his last son; and my parent, no doubt, did not refuse to help his younger brother as best he could. In one of the apartments we inspected, the landlady, having learned that we were residents of Nizhny Novgorod, told us that several years ago she also had a resident of Nizhny Novgorod who lived with her, who, like us, came to the academy, but for some reason he had no luck here, and he moved to Vasilyevsky Island. We immediately guessed that it was our fellow countryman N.A. Dobrolyubov, who entered the Pedagogical Institute. When we told her the last name, she confirmed our guess. This was undoubtedly in 1853, since this was the year N.A. Dob entered the Pedagogical Institute, from which he graduated in 1857. Consequently, he came to St. Petersburg without completing the full seminar course, although his biographers claim that he graduated from it. He could only complete the full seminary course in the following year, 1854, in which his seminary comrades (V.V. Lavrsky and V.I. Sokolov) graduated from the seminary. semester, as in other seminaries of the Kazan and Moscow academic districts, there were only even years at that time (after all, one must not forget that each course lasted two years), while in the seminaries of the St. Petersburg and Kyiv districts these years were odd. Only one of Dob’s seminar comrades, I. G. Zhuravlev, entered St. Petersburg. Academy in 1853, where he graduated as part of the XXII class in 1857 (the last candidate, 33rd, for very bad behavior, as we heard). He also arrived a year before graduation. course, was sent to St. Petersburg. Academy at public expense. According to inquiries we made from his Nizhny Novgorod relatives, this was the case. N.A. actually wanted to go to university, but his father did not want this, and therefore he chose St. Petersburg. academy. Arriving in St. Petersburg, he stayed in a private apartment, apparently in the settlement we examined, and Zhur-v, as a government official, stayed in Academician. building. At the apartment, he learned “from the students” that at the same time (from August 17) entrance exams at Pedagogical University were being held. institute, that entering there is perhaps even easier than entering an academy, that the institute is a higher educational institution, no worse than a university, with full government support. He decided to try to take exams there. He was admitted to them without documents, and had not yet gone to the academy exams, saying he was ill. After passing the college exams, he began to work to obtain documents from the academy. In Pedagogical He entered the institute with full government support, only 17 years old. Work on installing a water pipeline in St. Petersburg, as it turns out, based on inquiries made, began only in 1859, i.e., the year of our arrival in St. Petersburg. But the initial work was unsuccessful, and the water supply was rebuilt in the 1860s. In the parts of the city beyond the river, water supply was installed only in 1874–75. This is probably explained by the fact that the then rector of St. Petersburg. Academy turned out to be Archimandrite. Nektary (Nadezhdin), just transferred (May 15, 1859) from the rector of St. Petersburg. seminary and therefore contributed to the appointment of a large number of his former students to the public account. Or maybe it depended on the fact that the spiritual and educational administration wanted to make room for a larger number of students, natives of our western provinces, deliberately summoned, as we heard, to St. Petersburg. seminary to complete a course there, in the hope that they will later, upon graduation from the academy, be useful figures in our Western region. In any case, it seems impossible to deny the rect. Nektary showed some zeal in relation to his former students, which was expressed, as we will see later, in their occupying exclusively the first six places on the admission list. Vasily Stepanovich Nikolsky (mon. Vladimir), Kursk native, b. in 1829, graduated from Kursk. family in 1851, was a priest. to Kherson. Bishop, in 1857 he became a monk, therefore he was seven or eight years or more older than each of us. (P.V. Znamensky “History of the Kazan Academy”, vol. I, p. 247). He was accepted at No. 8, but two years later, when moving to the senior year, judging by his scores, he should have taken first place. It is unknown whether the lists were compiled before the end of the full academic course. We did not find them in the archive. We saw only an alphabetical list with marks of points in sciences and essays and their overall total for both for the years 1859–1861. This list was written by the hand of the then secretary of the board - prof. E. I. Lovyagina. There were many reasons for the nervous breakdown: in addition to natural nervousness, waiting too long, for a whole year, for the exam, a completely new situation, combined with unusual hotel accommodation and poor food, the cold formality of St. Petersburg, and most importantly, the fear of not meeting the expectations of the native seminary, which was accustomed to the brilliant reception of its students in all academies, and especially the Kazan one, in which the students of Nizhegorsk. The seminaries were admitted according to the examination lists, for the most part under the first numbers, as was the case with my comrades (Khitrovsky and Rozhansky), for whom the seminary even received gratitude from the academy last 1858, which was then already known to me. In particular, I felt bad and was even close to fainting while composing one of the essays that we wrote in the academy hall. This incident also made the place where we wrote our essays memorable for me, under the supervision of the then assistant inspector, bachelor I. F. Nilsky. By the way, we then took him for a professor who had served at the academy for quite a long time, thanks to his respectable, middle-aged appearance and important bearing. Meanwhile, he was then the youngest of the bachelors, having only completed the academy course two years ago (1857). F. G. El-y was accepted at No. 16, T. V. Barsov - at No. 33, I - at No. 39. That they took into account mainly the points received from essays, here is undoubted proof of this. The total score for oral answers and essays was 177½ for A. Katansky, F.G. Eleonsky - 176½, T.V. Barsov - 169½. Based on the works of F.G. El. had, against me, 5 points more, against T.V.B. - by 3½. This is where the huge difference in the places we took on the list came from. The system then was ten-point: 10 was the highest score. These are the first six students: state-owned - Nikolai Barsov, Konstantin Nemshevich, Diomid Petukhovich, Vasily Popov, Mikhail Rodevich, Flor Abramovich (volunteer). Of these, only two completed the academic course: N.I. Barsov (3rd MA) and V.E. Popov (28th candidate of our XXV course, son of the famous Archpriest E.I. Popov, rector of our embassy church in London). Of the remaining 4 - K. Nemshevich, the most talented of all St. Petersburg residents, and M. Rodevich moved to the university, D. Petukhovich, who amazed us with his extraordinary diligence in writing essays (heaps of scribbled paper usually lay near him), suddenly, at the end of the academic year, completely unexpectedly disappeared somewhere and found himself, as we heard in some mysterious situation, not which, however, had nothing to do with interests in politics. F. Abramovich had to leave the academy due to the history of October 4. 1861, which happened upon transition to the senior year (this very difficult story will be discussed later). Of these, the vast majority (with the exception of 3-4 people) later took government-paid vacancies as they became available. Outstanding of these self-employed people was I. Ya. Obraztsov, who graduated from the course as the 6th master († member of the Educational Committee at the Holy Synod, professor of the St. Petersburg Institute of History and Philology and presenter of the Ascension Church in St. Petersburg). Among them was A. A. Opotsky (now Archbishop Alexy, a member of the Holy Synod, former Exarch of Georgia, still living), sent from the Pskov Seminary to the state account, but was not included in the number of state funds. Most of the people who lived there were St. Petersburg residents (6 people). These students are: Grig. Popov, Evgr. Pisarev, Vasily Karelin, Mikh. Mitropolsky, who completed the course of the Irkutsk sem. and a year before we entered the academy placed (in 1858) in it, then Anton Karelin, Vas. Mirotvortsev and Innok. Kornakov, who completed the seminar course from 1858 in St. Petersburg. seminary and, upon graduation, entered with us, in 1859, into our academy as volunteers. We considered only these last three to belong to our course. Why are the first four included in our course list? Probably for convenience, so as not to split this group into two halves. Of the last three Irkutsk residents, two are V. Mirotvortsev and Ant. Karelin - after passing the exam for the title of student at the seminary in 1860, they were placed among the active students of the academy, while the other five, from among all seven Irkutsk students, were dismissed in 1861 to the Irkutsk diocese. Only one V.V. Mirotvortsev, who was later a bachelor of the Kazan Academy, extraord, completed the full academic course with us. prof. and even an inspector. St. Petersburg professors came to our academy to teach the Mongolian language. university from the oriental faculty (see I. A. Chistovich for more details - “History of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy 1858–1888,” pp. 71–72). These Siberians strongly defended their Siberia from our attacks, arguing that the real Siberia, in the sense of hard labor, is not with them, but with us in St. Petersburg, that they have it in Irkutsk at 40 degrees. The frost is felt much better than in St. Petersburg at 2-3 degrees, and life is incomparably more free and cheaper. And indeed, the sight of them, first blooming with health, and then becoming more and more pale, losing weight and wasting away, fully confirmed their words. S. P. Avtokratov, Penza, 17th candidate, with the right to step. master's degree in presentation new op. and one year of service per spirit. learned. service. He was probably involved in the student riots that took place under inspector Victorin (Lyubimov, 1857–1858) and resulted in the expulsion of “their 6 main culprits” (see: I. A. Chistovich, “History of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy...”, p. 74). S.P. Av-v was later a teacher. Novgor. sem., business trip min. adv. enlightenment (probably in 1862) abroad to prepare for a professorship in philosophy at the university, he spent two years abroad, but, as was heard, he did not study there particularly diligently, and did not get into the department at the university. He died shortly after that time. Iv. Dm. Kasatkin, Smolen. harvest; in 1860, June 8, a year before the end of the full academician. course, tonsured by the rector, Rev. Nectarius, became a monk and immediately went to Japan. The only time in my life I saw tonsure as a monk, and it was my “senior”. It is unknown whether he subsequently submitted an essay for an academic degree and whether he received it. In “History of St. Petersburg. spirit. Academy" I.A. Chistovich, he is listed under the heading: “with the title of academician student, with the right to a degree. candidate", among other 10 members. Of these, 5 were noted to have been awarded the degree of candidate at different times. About the priest. Nothing is said to Nikolai (Kasatkina), although all his works until 1880, when he was ordained a bishop, are listed. In all likelihood, carried away by his great missionary works, he did not bother to compose an essay for an academic degree, and this was hardly possible to do in Japan, in the absence of the necessary books and libraries. Subsequently, when I was already a bachelor of St. Petersburg. Academy, we saw each other, he was even at my apartment, and I was struck by the enormous change in him. He turned out to be extremely lively, sociable, talkative, in a word - a completely different person. Probably, in that year when we lived together, his unsociability was explained by the fact that the thought of a radical revolution in his life was ripening in his soul. Only two living rooms were not walk-through, they were, so to speak, private rooms, out of connection with all the other student living rooms - one on the middle floor, the other on the top; both to the left along the middle corridor (opposite the other occupied rooms) and the upper one (opposite the bedrooms). F. G. El-sky settled in one of these rooms, under “seniority” first Iv. Al. Gorsky (8th Mag. XXIV class, Pskov, † Prot. Kolom.-Pokrov. Ts. in St. Petersburg), and then V. G. Pevtsova (1st Mag. XXIV class, Tver, † prof. Teaching jurisprudence in St. Petersburg). I very much regret that I have not preserved the mass of lithographed lectures given to us for rehearsals and exams, both in this course and in the next, senior one. We owe some of the biographical, especially chronological, data regarding our former mentors to the very venerable work of A. S. Rodossky, worthy of the Uvarov Prize, “Biographical Dictionary of Students of the First XXVIII Years of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy (1814–1869) - for the centenary of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy” (St. Petersburg, 1907). The histories of academies, especially ours, St. Petersburg (two volumes, 1857 and 1889), were also very important aids for me. Vasily Nikolaevich Karpov, Voronezh, 5th master of the II degree. Kyiv. acad. (1825), from 1825 to 1829 he was probably a teacher. seminary, 1829 – tank. French language to Kyiv. academician, 1831 – tank. philosophy in the same academician, 1833 – tank. Philosopher St. Petersburg academician, 1835 – order. prof., successor to the also famous F.F. Sidonsky (2nd Mag. VIII class of St. Petersburg academician 1829, † 1873), who, leaving the department. philosophy, from 1833 to 1835 taught only French. language. In our time, as was heard, he devoted many works, among other things, to the magazine “The Wanderer,” then published by Archpriest. V.V. Grechulevich. They said that V.N. not only wrote many articles for this magazine, but also participated in its editing, and that in general the publisher of “The Wanderer” exploited our venerable professor a lot. V.N., as a family man, needed additional funds to the professor’s salary (858 rubles - ord. prof.). They diligently recorded his lectures and argued with those of their comrades who did not value V.N. highly enough. M.V. Rodevich, who later moved to St. Petersburg, was his especially ardent admirer. university and now serves in the department of the Ministry of Public Education. V.N. Karpov had one peculiarity: he did not remember names well. There were many jokes and funny stories about this among the students. Illarion Alekseevich Chistovich, Kaluzh., 2nd Mag. XIX building. St. Petersburg. acad. (1851). A.A. Fischer, foreigner, from 1832 - horde. prof. St. Petersburg university, from 1843 – order. prof. St. Petersburg acad. See: Chistovich I.A. “History of St. Petersburg. spirit. Academy...", p. 53. In his “History of St. Petersburg. spirit. academy...” (pp. 52–54), somehow it is very unclear and even, it seems to us, the history of the transition of psychology from one hand to another is actually not entirely accurately conveyed, unless there is a proofreading error in the year 1859 (p. 53). The same can be said in part about the history of new philosophy - from Kant. Kirill Ivanovich Luchitsky, from Volyn. family, gen. in 1815, 1st Mag. XIII building. St. Petersburg. acad. (1839), in 1851 - extraord. prof., and in 1852 - already horde. prof. Andrey Ivanovich Predtechensky, Novgorod, 2nd master of the XXI degree, St. Petersburg. acad. (1855), from 1862 - extraord. prof. Mikhail Osipovich Koyalovich, Grodno. harvest., Vilna family, 6th magician. XXI building St. Petersburg. acad. (1855), from 1855 to May 1856 – teacher. in Riga and St. Petersburg seminaries, from 1856 - in St. Petersburg. acad. – tank. compared to theologian and schism, from 1857 - according to Russian. citizen and church history. See: Rodossky A.S. "Biographical Dictionary...", pp. 214–215. Evgraf Ivanovich Lovyagin, Tver, 1st magician. XVII building. St. Petersburg. acad. (1847). Then there was a custom to transfer bachelors from one subject to another, in the form of, among other things, promotion of gifted people in the service. Some departments had residencies, others did not, or there were vacancies. The professor was busy. There was no residency in languages. Meanwhile, in physics and mathematics subjects she was; Until 1852 it was occupied by the famous professor-publicist D.I. Rostislavov (3rd Mag. X class 1833, St. Petersburg academician). In 1852, he left service at the academy, and now we see that in 1853 E. I. Lovyagin was transferred to mathematics. There is no doubt that his transfer took place in order to provide him with a vacancy in the ranks. professor, to whom he was made 4 years later, in 1857. Nikandr Ivanovich Gloriantov, Nizhny Novgorod, 2nd magician. XX k. St. Petersburg. acad. (1853). Moisey Aleksandrovich Golubev, St. Petersburg. Sem., 2nd Master. XVII building. St. Petersburg. acad. (1847), in 1853 - extraord., in 1857 - order. prof. Very interesting information about him is reported by A. S. Rodossky (in his “Biographical Dictionary”), previously unknown to us, students. And now you see them as news. It turns out that M.A., the son of deacon Petersburg. On the other hand, he was born in St. Petersburg during a strong November flood in 1824, and was kept on the water in a wooden cradle for several days after birth, which is why he was named Moses. He was the nephew of the famous Yuryevsky archimandrite. Photius, who helped him in his upbringing. Now, for me, the ancient allegorism is quite clear and psychologically explainable, as a result (in addition to many other reasons - philosophical school, etc.) of the activity of extremely excited religious thought and a very heightened religious feeling. In such a state, it is natural to look for connections between the present and the long past, for hints and indications in the latter of the former, as often happens in our ordinary life, when we are greatly amazed or shocked by something. Then we are reminded of many things (often little things, signs), to which in our other, ordinary state we did not pay any attention, but which now seems very significant. Petr Ivanovich Shalfeev, Pskov, 3rd magician. XXI building St. Petersburg. acad. (1855). A. S. Rhodessky (Biographical Dictionary...) lists several more patristic articles published in Christian Reading, 1861 and 1862, representing, in all likelihood, his lectures processed. Christian Reading, 1862, II, pp. 548–550. By the way, especially often me. His comrades explained his noticed sympathy for me with some similarity they found between us. In appearance, however, we were different; maybe character, some spiritual traits? I remember that at one of the lectures he raised the question of partaking of the Body and Blood of Christ in the sacrament of the Eucharist and asked the question: is it possible to explain the need to “eat” the Body of Christ in some psychological, natural way. And he answered that the feeling of strong, fiery love for Christ requires precisely the eating of His Body, and not just spiritual, mental communion with Him. Moreover, he gave an analogy from the field of purely human love, fiery, passionate. He was not elevated to the rank of extraord. prof. and until the end of his life he remained a bachelor, i.e. until June 26, 1862, while his fellow academic graduates - A.I. Predtechensky and M.O. Koyalovich - from February 28 of the same 1862 they were already extraord. professors, whose salary at that time was, however, the same as for bachelors, i.e. 429 rubles. per year. It was also heard that by Easter of the same year he was treated with a small monetary reward, while he especially needed it, being a family man and living on one meager bachelor's salary. His material need was evident even to us. For example, he never had a pocket watch with him, and when he needed to find out how much time and how much time was left until the end of the lecture, he turned to us. What remains in my memory regarding the circumstances of the last days of the life and illness of P. I. Shalfeev, we probably heard from his brother-in-law, N. P. Gratsiansky, our comrade in the XXV course, who graduated from the course with the title of student of the academy. Archdeacon Gregory Vegleris, last – 21st – magician. XVI building. Kyiv. acad. (1853). He was a relative of the famous Patriarch of Constantinople Gregory, who died as a martyr in 1821. A detailed biography of Gr. Vegleris see: Chistovich I.A. “History of St. Petersburg. spirit. Academy...", pp. 60–61. He was transferred on May 10, 1860 to Kyiv. acad. Bachelor of Greek language, but did not want to go there, but asked to be appointed to the position of rector of the Greek church in Odessa, which he received, October 26. the same 1860. Died in Con-le in 1866. It was heard that because of them he even got into some kind of accident in Odessa. It is, of course, difficult to vouch for the accuracy of the rumor. Here is a sample of one phrase that he asked to be translated into Greek: “We now have a good winter, a beautiful winter.” Daniil Abramovich Khvolson, Dr. Jewish literature, extraord. prof. St. Petersburg uni Faculty of Oriental Studies, St. Petersburg. spirit. acad. – from March 3, 1858 Ivan Terentyevich Osinin, St. Petersburg. Sem., 1st MA. XXII building St. Petersburg. acad. (1857), tank. will expose theologian since 1857 Heinrich John Bishop, Russian subject since 1835, in St. Petersburg. acad. – from 1856 (after Prof. M.A. Golubev, who taught English in 1852–1856), † 1867. I vividly remember how one day he comes to class and, smugly stroking his chin (his usual gesture), says that yesterday early in the morning he went hunting in Vyatka with some noble company, almost with envoys, including an English one, and late at night, at about 12 o’clock, he was home. Egor Postnikov, monk. Gregory, 3rd magician. I class. St. Petersburg. acad. (1814), 1816 – inspection. St. Petersburg academician, 1817 – doctor. theologian, 1819 – rector. St. Petersburg academician, 1822 – ep. vicar. Revelsky, 1826 – bishop. Kaluzh., 1829 – archbishop. Ryazan, 1831 - Tver, 1848 - Kazan, 1856 - Metropolitan. Kazansky (Aug. 26), Metropolitan. Novgorod. and St. Petersburg (Oct. 1), † 1860, June 17. Yakov Sergeevich Nikolsky, monk. Isidore, Tula, 2nd magician. VI building. St. Petersburg. acad. (1826), 1826 – tank. St. Petersburg academician, 1829 – rect. Orlov. Sem., 1833 – rect. Moscow Sem., 1834 – vicar. Ep. Dmitrov., 1837 – bishop. Polotsk, 1840 – Mogilev, 1841 – Archbishop, 1844 – Exarch of Georgia, 1856 – Metropolitan, 1858 – Metropolitan. Kyiv, 1860 – Metropolitan. Novgor. and St. Petersburg (July 1). Nikolai Nadezhdin, monk. Nectary, Tambov, 26th magician. XI building Kyiv. acad. (1843), 1849 – inspection. Kyiv. Sem., 1851 – rect. Kyiv. Sem., 1856 – rect. Novgor. Sem., 1857 – rect. St. Petersburg Sem., 1859 – rect. St. Petersburg acad. and ep. Vyborg, 1860 – bishop. Nizhny Novgorod, 1867 - archbishop, 1860 - archbishop. Kharkov., † 1874. In his “Notes and Memoirs” (“Theological Bulletin”, Jan. 1914), Metropolitan. Leonty, although he says about him that he “sought popularity with students,” but in the end calls him “a wonderful person by heart.” Ivan Rudnev, monk. Ioannikiy, Tula, 1st Mag. XIV building Kyiv. acad. (1849), 1849 – tank. Kyiv. acad. according to Holy Scripture, 1856 – inspection. Kyiv. academician, 1858 – rect. Kyiv. Sem., 1859 – rect. Kyiv. academician, 1860 – rect. St. Petersburg academician, 1861 – bishop Vyborg, 1864 – bishop. Saratov., then bishop. Nizhny Novgorod, archbishop and Exarch of Georgia, Metropolitan. Moskovsky, † Met. Kievsky. Epiphanius (in the world - Evstafiy Izbitsky), from the Polish nobles of Volyn. gub., first Catholic, studied in Vilnius. academic; then, in 1841, to Kyiv. uni by philosopher Faculty, where he received a master's degree; in 1846 he became a teacher in Chernigov. hymn., 1851 – teaches. Zhytomyr. rabbinical teacher, 1854 - converted to Orthodoxy, 1856 - 12th mag. XI building. Moscow. academician, 1856 – inspection. Vifan. semester, 1858 – inspection. St. Petersburg academician, 1859 – rect. Caucasus. Sem., 1861 – left the spirit. textbook service, lived in Moscow. Simonov Monastery, 1866 – member of the Transbaikal mission, † 1869 – in the same place, in Transbaikalia. Jerome. Asinkrit (Vereshchagin), 3rd magician. XX k. St. Petersburg. academician (1853), 1853 – tank. on patristics in St. Petersburg. academician, 1855 – inspection. Petrozav. semester, 1859 – an inspection was appointed. St. Petersburg acad. and, after he refused this appointment, he became rector of Novgorod. Skovorodsky Monastery, and then - inspection. Novgorod. family and rect. Kaluzhskaya, died soon. According to rumors and printed reviews, “he was a gifted man, but extremely suspicious and, in addition, sickly” (Chistovich I.A. “History of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy...”, p. 14). He was appointed inspector directly “with the title of ordinary professor being awarded to him.” Jerome. Pavel (Lebedev), Tver, 8th degree. XX k. St. Petersburg. academician (1853), 1853 – teacher. St. Petersburg semester, 1857 – inspection. St. Petersburg semester, 1859 – inspection. St. Petersburg academician, 1861 – rect. Smolen. Sem., 1866 – rect. St. Petersburg Sem., 1868 – ep. Vyborg, Vik. St. Petersburg, 1869 – ep. Ladozh., Vik. St. Petersburg, 1871 – ep. Kishinev, then archbishop, Exarch of Georgia, archbishop. Kazan., † in Kazan. Inspector of St. Petersburg. acad. he had the title of extraord. professor. This explains why, under Met. Isidore was called to answer on the new philosophy. Probably V.N. according to the list (if there was such a list), I was among the first, or had (in the alphabetical list) the highest score - 10. In addition to scientific works and books (like Homer’s “Iliad” and “Odyssey”, the works of Plato, the Propylaea of Katkov and Leontyev, “Introduction to Philosophy” by F.F. Sidonsky, Nevolin’s “Encyclopedia of Law”, Histories of Schlosser, Macaulay, etc.), we read the news of the then fiction, the works of Pisemsky, Ostrovsky, Dostoevsky, Nekrasov, Dobrolyubov and Chernyshevsky. Chernyshevsky’s novel “What to Do” was published before our eyes in Sovremennik books, and, of course, each book in this magazine was eagerly awaited. By the way, I did not like this notorious work at all, and, as far as I remember, also some of my comrades - with its extreme utopianism, lack of artistry, long arguments of a pedantic nature, and the preface even amazed me with its extreme impudence and completely indecent appeal to the readers. First, A. I. Predtechensky called me and offered to read at the exam an essay written on his topic (“General Basic Character,” etc.), and then, two or three days later, I. A. Chistovich called me and made the same proposal regarding my essay on his topic “The Origin and Various Expressions of the Idea of ​​Fate in Ancient Greek Philosophy.” Having promised to talk with his colleague (Pr-m), I.A.Ch. I noticed, I remember, that if he does not agree to give up me, he will choose the work of my friend, N. G. Blagoveshchensky. I can’t remember whose other works were scheduled to be read at the public exam at that time. Sermon one (“on the week of the Exaltation”) also had the highest score of 10, and only the first sermon (on the day of the Intercession of the Most Holy Theotokos) had a rather low score – I think 8 (I didn’t keep it). Here the journalistic tendency ruined me: leaving the ideal of the Mother of God, partly in defense of the then champions of women’s emancipation, partly in refutation of their extreme, utopian ideas, I wanted to find out the ideal of a woman, a true Christian. But K.I. Luchitsky, who read our works of this kind, did not like sermons with claims to modernity, and I, of course, was far from an experienced speaker. While looking through the academic archives for the academic years 1859–1860 and 1860–1861, I did not find a rank list of successes (probably it was either stuck somewhere between papers or was not compiled), but only an alphabetical list written by the hand of the then secretary of the academic board and conferences, Prof. E.I. Lovyagina, with a summary of points for oral answers and essays. The total score was set against M.I. Vladislavlev - 120¾, T.V. Barsov - 120¼, A. Katansky - 118¾, F. G. Eleonsky - 115. Against Nick. Iv. Barsov, who was admitted to the academy under No. 1, - 109½. This year, 1861, he came to Russia to work for the solemn consecration of the magnificent church he created in Paris, with the participation of an Orthodox bishop, which, after much trouble, he succeeded. Bishop was sent to Paris. Revelsky, vicar of St. Petersburg Leonty (Lebedinsky; † Metropolitan of Moscow), who in the same year consecrated our Orthodox church in the capital of France. In vain Metr. Leonty in his publication “My Notes and Memoirs” (“Theological Bulletin”, 1914, January, pp. 137, 140) reproaches him for his desire to “popularize” and “adapt” to the view of the then rector, the Most Reverend. Nectaria. Victorin (Lyubimov), Kaluga, 6th magician. XX k. St. Petersburg. acad. (1853), 1853 – inspection. Smolen. semester, 1857 – inspection. St. Petersburg academician, 1858 – rect. Kostroma. Sem., 1860 – rect. Tiflis. Sem., 1868 – ep. Cheboksary, 1874 - Polotsk, 1882 - Podolsky, † 1882. He published the book “Friend of the Spiritual Youth”, full of the most minute rules of behavior for students, and demanded their implementation. The result was an indignation among the students against the inspector and the expulsion of six people, the main culprits of the riots. And inspector Epiphany (Izbitsky), a graduate of Polish Catholic schools, adhered to the Jesuit system of supervision over students, which also did not bear good fruit and only irritated the students in vain. All this has come to us, according to legend, from previous courses. I remember my first lunch in the academic cafeteria. Being then in a depressed state of mind and unfamiliar with the rules of the hostel, I was so confused that I sat down not opposite the device assigned to each student, but in the middle of two devices, and found myself next to N. G. Blagoveshchensky. Seeing my embarrassment, he shared his portion with me, and from then on a friendly relationship began between us, which did not cease until his death. This very talented comrade of mine died, after serving at the Vitebsk Seminary and being an inspector of public schools for the Ministry of Public Education, in St. Petersburg, retired. Instead of the second course, at the expense of the amount allocated for it, lectures were lithographed. This was done before us, with the consent and at the request of the students themselves, as senior students said. Protodiac. V. D. Nikolaevsky was a resident of Nizhny Novgorod, my father’s friend at the seminary. Before the end of our seminar course, he came to Nizhny and visited us with his sons, who were studying in St. Petersburg. seminary, our peers, N.V. Nikolaevsky (now mitered archpriest of the Horse Guards Church in St. Petersburg) and A.V. Nikolaevsky (also mitered archpriest, former rector of the Vienna Embassy Church for 27 years, who died in 1913). We then met this respectable family, and this acquaintance was very useful to us when we arrived in St. Petersburg. The friendliness and cordiality that we met here were very dear to us. Visits from this family, who warmed us up, brightened up our lives in an inhospitable official environment. Nick. Ign. Rozov, my mother’s cousin, from the Nizhegorod philosophy class. family entered Kazan University, where, after completing a course at the Faculty of Medicine, he was a dissector, then an inspector of the medical board in Vyatka and Voronezh, vice-director of the medical department, then director and chairman of the veterinary committee. He died in 1886 with the rank of Privy Councilor. He was very religious. A. V. Gumilevsky, St. Petersburg, 7th Mag. XXI building St. Petersburg. acad. (1855), priest. Petersburg. Nativity of Christ, on the Sands, church. For his ardent sermon on the occasion of the liberation of the peasants, he was transferred, as they said then, to the city of Narva. † 1869. He was one of the co-editors of the then leading St. Petersburg spiritual magazine “The Christian Spirit” and was apparently in a close relationship with P. I. Shalfeev, his fellow student. “Collection of opinions and reviews of Philaret, Metropolitan of Moscow.” M., 1887. T. V, part I, pp. 151–155. Ivan Alekseevich Lebedinsky (in mon. Leonty), Voronezh., 5th magician. XVII building. St. Petersburg. acad. (1847), 1847 – teacher. St. Petersburg family and in the same year - inspection. Kyiv. academician, 1856–1860 – rector of seminaries – Vladimir, Novgorod, St. Petersburg, 1860 – bishop. Revelsky, 1863 – bishop. Podolsky, 1873 – archbishop, 1874 – archbishop. Kherson, 1875 – Warsaw, 1891 – Metropolitan. Moscow, † 1893. In addition, he was a student friend of prof. E.I. Lovyagin, then secretary of the board and conference, and from him could learn a lot about the state of academic affairs. “Theologian.” Herald", 1914, January. “My notes and memories. Leontia, Metropolitan Moscow" (pp. 137–144). If this “inconsistency”, thanks to the “insincerity of the inspector”, refers to our history on October 4, 1861, then here is the “insincerity” of Archimandrite. Pavel had nothing to do with it, because he left the academy earlier than October 4, more than a month before, precisely on August 23 of the same year. The same must be said regarding the new inspector Vladimir (Petrov), who is characterized by Rev. Leonty is absolutely right, but who arrived to us a full 7 months after October 4, precisely on May 10 of the following 1862. Consequently, his personality, with ignorance of our academy, also has nothing to do with it. Only one general idea is true, that Rev. Ioannikios acted completely alone, without anyone’s assistance, at his own peril, and, as we will see, really completely “inappropriately.” Natural memory error. This was in 1861, but since Rev. Leonty played a big role when we graduated from the course in 1863 as an auditor of the academy and took an active part in deciding our fate, which was closely connected with October 4, 1861. In his mind, naturally, the year 1861 merged with 1863. In addition to the already mentioned 1) hieromon. Vladimir (Nikolsky), † bishop. Nizhny Novgorod, 2) sacred. I. R. Rakhinsky, Novgorod, was M. I. Vladislavlev’s teacher at the school, next. was at least 7 years older than us, our 23rd candidate, was later on a mission in China, etc. to Novgorod. diocese, 3) priest. Anfim (Ozerov), Moscow, our 30th candidate, was a friend at the seminary of the then rector. St. Petersburg family Plato (Troepolsky, mag. Moscow Academician XIV century, 1844), next. graduated from the seminary course around 1840, approximately 25 years old, and was at least 40 years old when entering the academy, therefore, 20 years older than us; he was our oldest academic friend in years, and he attended the review later. school in the city of Roslavl and finally entered the brethren of the Trinity-Sergius Lavra; finally 4) priest. A. Sokolov, who graduated with the title of student and soon died. Sokolov joined the student body only in his senior year. When the priests came to us. I. Rakhinsky and Hierom. Anfim, I don’t remember. I only remember that they didn’t take entrance exams. It was with this good intention, and not at all with the goal of being rude to my superiors (which was not at all in my character), that I allowed myself this ridiculous and, in essence, impudent prank. Perhaps, I thought, the rector will pay attention to my words and think: if such a student as A. K., a person who is not at all militant, of a quiet disposition, law-abiding (I had reason to assume that this is exactly the opinion of my superiors about me), treats my order this way, then what can we expect from others, his comrades, and wouldn’t it be better to cancel my order or delay its execution? I admit now that I was incredibly stupid and incompetent then. But my speech also proves that at that time we were not yet aware of the matter and did not anticipate the active participation of the rector at the very beginning of this matter. Otherwise, of course, I would have realized the complete uselessness and absurdity of speaking with my opinion. The rector’s noticeable disposition toward me at that time also predisposed me to such a speech. Rev. During his first, during September, lectures on dogmatics, Ioannikis more than once raised me to discuss theological issues that arose, which was considered a sign of good will. And it really was felt. But then, after my extremely unsuccessful consultation on October 4, it was replaced by Rev. Ioannikis, who was generally stable in his likes and dislikes, had displeasure towards me, which continued until I completed the course and was reflected, as we will see later, in my future fate. In any case, however, I cannot help but admit: mea culpa, mea maxima culpa! This was, for example, I. D. Delyanov, later the Minister of Public Education, and then, in 1861, the director. Department of the Ministry of Peoples enlightenment, direct. St. Petersburg public library and then, in the same year, trustee of St. Petersburg. educational district. It seems that it was to the kindest Ivan Davidovich that our exiles most of all owed the structure of their future fate: Vladislavlev, Nik. Iv. Sokolov, I. Ya. Sprogis and F. I. Abramovich. All of them, thanks to him, settled down either to the mines. adv. enlightened, or publ. library. It was heard that our tank wooed them to I.D. Delyanov. M. O. Koyalovich, who even then had connections in the secular scientific and educational world. I. Ya. Sprogis recommended I. D. Delyanov Vl.Vas. Stasov, who called him from the village and for the first time even gave him room in his apartment. Mikhail Ivanovich Vladislavlev, destined to be sent abroad in order to prepare for a professorship at the university, at first, after returning from exile in his parents' house, was engaged in collaboration in the journal. "Epoch", published by brother F.M. Dostoevsky, M.M. Dostoevsky, whose daughter he married upon returning from abroad. I visited the apartment where M.I. Vl-v lived at that time and once met both Dostoevsky brothers there, that is, both the famous Fyodor Mikhailovich and his brother, the publisher of “Epoch” Mikhail Mikhailovich, the future father-in-law of M. I. Vl. The personality of Fyodor Mikhailovich, of course, interested me extremely; I have already read his novel “Crime and Punishment,” which is marvelous in its psychological analysis. I read it intermittently, quit several times, and could not read like an impressionable person, too vividly experiencing the psychological state of the characters conveyed by the author, a deep connoisseur of the human soul. F. M. D. was very silent during our meeting. We saw M.I. Vlm later, when he was already a professor and rector of the university. Until the end of his life, he maintained truly comradely relations with me and with all his other comrades (I. Ya. Obraztsov and others) in St. Petersburg. Theological Academy. He died still young, 50 years old (born in 1840, dean in 1885, rector in 1887, U 1890, April 24), from cancer in the brain and throughout the body. He was of a strong, one might say, heroic build, and therefore it is not surprising that the Empress Maria Feodorovna smiled when he, introducing himself to her as the newly appointed rector of the university, said that he hoped to work in this position to the extent of his strength and health, to which the Empress noted with a smile that, it seems, he could not complain about his health. The late M.I. he told us about it himself. Evg. Nick. Zhdanov, from Arkhang. Sem., entered Moscow. University, graduated from it and later became a peace mediator in the city of Mozyr. Very talented, he amazed us by the fact that he did almost nothing, just walked around the rooms, waving something that he held in his hands, and yet he was one of the best students in terms of success. Nikol. Iv. Sokolov, from Riga, was a good, capable student, but was not particularly outstanding; he was distinguished only by his liveliness and handsome face. Why Rev. Leonty placed him next to Vladislavlev, unknown. He was, it seems, at the university and probably graduated from it, judging by the fact that he served in Vilna as a min. adv. enlightened, then he lived in St. Petersburg, was a private attorney, it seems, and generally a practical figure. Flor Iv. Abramovich, from St. Petersburg. family, self-employed, admitted to academician. under No. 6, was at the university and served as a teacher at the Novgorod gymnasium. Ivan Yakovlevich Sprogis, from the Riga family, Latvian by origin, from peasants, first served in St. Petersburg. public library, now the archivist of the Vilna Central Archive of Ancient Act Books, a very respectable figure. I had to read a lot in “New Time” about his activities; there was even an entire feuilleton dedicated to him in this newspaper. Hello. On January 1, 1914, he was awarded the rank of acting. stat. advisor, and was recently elected to honorary members of St. Petersburg. Archaeological Institute. Const. Sokolov, from St. Petersburg. family, svoekostny stud. Why he was included in the exclusion list still remains a mystery to us. Out of delicacy, we left the above-mentioned 4 comrades with holy orders alone and did not invite them to sign our statement, realizing very well that in their position this would be extremely inconvenient for them. I remember that the issue of their signature was raised with us, but was immediately resolved in the negative. This Kiev student movement, very important for a proper understanding of our history, is described in the memoirs of Prof. V. F. Pevnitsky (“My memories”, see: Proceedings of the Kyiv Spiritual Academician, 1911, vol. III, pp. 338–348 and 1912, vol. II, pp. 305–326). Rector of Kyiv. acad. was then an archimandrite. Israel (Yak. Lukin, 2nd Mag. II class. Kyiv Acad., 1825), an old man, a student friend of our prof. V.N. Karpova, smart, kind, but very weak-willed, and the inspector (after Archimandrite Ioannikiy, who served under the rector of Israel before the event described, for only 5 months) – Archimandrite. Valerian (Orlov, 1st Mag. St. Petersburg academician XXI class, 1855), gifted, but suffering from alcoholism, forced then, after a year (“he spent about a year as an inspector”), not only leave the service, but also resign from the priesthood and monasticism, turn into a Poltava tradesman; He died barefoot in Poltava (in a police station). Under such leaders the following happened; Let's speak in the words of Prof. Pevnitsky. In addition to dissatisfaction with the authorities and their orders, “the desires and demands of the students extended to the academic part. They expressed dissatisfaction with the unsatisfactory, in their opinion, teaching of this or that subject and asked for new lectures, in addition to those prescribed by the charter and according to the schedule... From among themselves, among the students, they elected a lecturer and assigned him to lecture them... (for example, on general civil history), a self-proclaimed mentor appeared to them from among their comrades, and they gathered in his classroom. and boasted that their comrade, a self-proclaimed mentor, gave lectures better than real professors... Complete anarchy threatened the academy... The students finally decided to turn directly to the Sovereign Emperor and prepared a petition to the Highest Name. To submit this petition, they came up with a special ceremony. During a meeting of the board, without a report, one junior student bursts in, kneels down in sight of the mirror, puts a petition on his head and addresses not the members of the board present here, but the Sovereign Emperor, as if personally listening to him... The students' petition was sent to St. Petersburg (but then returned from the post office)... Their petition is not so much a petition as an indictment against the academy. First of all, they attack their closest superiors, who are not distinguished by either intelligence or administrative tact, and do not inspire respect in anyone. In addition, one of them (the inspector) is an alcoholic and often appears to students drunk. Of the mentors, many conduct their business carelessly, somehow, not distinguished by intelligence, knowledge, or the gift of communication; some of them are so weak that they are said to be as eloquent as fish. The content of students is meager. The disciplinary rules are harsh and needlessly restrict the freedom of students.” And one must be surprised that after the above-described story from this XX course of “rebels,” as Prof. calls it. V.F.P., in his words, “no one was fired from the academy,” and only 4 people left it themselves, including M.F. Vladimirsky-Budanov, now “enjoying the fame of a scientist and an outstanding professor.” Kyiv University". In this very gifted course there were many outstanding personalities, later even bishops: M. Nevsky (Mitrofan; Bishop of Smolensk), M. Nekrasov (Lavrenty, former rector of Moscow Academician, bishop of Kursk and Tula), Khar. Horde (Irenaeus; bishop Mogil., Tulsk., Podolsk., Ekaterinb., Orlov.), I.T. Exemplary (Jerome; Bishop of Tambov, Archbishop of Vilna and Warsaw). Prof. belonged to the same course. S. M. Solsky, former Kiev resident for many years. gradsk head. He alone managed, not without difficulty (due to prejudice against this course), to get into the prof. Kyiv. Academy, from teachers Kyiv. seminary. However, so many useful figures for the Church and the theological school were preserved by the kindness and “spinelessness” of the rector of Israel! It is unlikely that such a result would have happened if our Ioannikiy had been in his place, and it seems to us that the venerable V.F. Pevnitsky is deeply mistaken when he assumes that in this case “there would be no unrest in the academy” (1911, III, p. 347). No matter how much we racked our brains over the question of how Predtechensky could have come up with the idea of ​​writing us down in the journal, we could not find the slightest reason on our part for this. Our relationship with him was generally correct. In my junior year there was even one case that was very typical in this regard. The third time he comes to our lecture, probably after an “all-night vigil” playing cards (he loved it and similar pleasures and indulged in them with all the fervor of his passionate, broad nature) and begins to read from his notes, but after a while we hear something completely unrelated to this lecture, as they say - from a completely different opera. It turned out that he had not revised his sheets of paper and mixed them with others that were not related to this lecture. We pretended that we did not notice this scandal and did not let him understand with any movement that the reason for his sudden transition to another topic was clear to us. The next class, he himself spoke about this incident and warmly thanked us for our delicacy and restraint towards him. Tank. Pr., as the then assistant secretary (for the internal administration of the academy), no doubt, often visited the rector, and also lived in his bachelor’s apartment completely next to the rector’s apartment, moreover, a very sociable, even talkative person, among various conversations, among other things, about his unfortunate comrade, Valerian Orlov, a former inspector of the Kyiv Academy, and the recent Kyiv academic unrest, could say that In our country, order and discipline are not in excellent shape, students attend lectures very carelessly, as, for example, in his Greek class, and in the excitement to which he was inclined, he could express his intention to henceforth record only those present in the class, in order to thereby show how many students were absent, as he did with us a few days before October 4. The position of the rector during this conversation, if it actually happened, was not an easy one. The awareness of its essentially legality did not allow me to respond negatively to the projected measure, and it was a pity to miss such a good opportunity - to tighten up students; affirmatively meant taking upon oneself a large, most important part of the initiative in a risky enterprise. One can hardly doubt, however, that the answer was received more or less in the affirmative, and most importantly, that the beginning of the matter took place, in any case, with the knowledge of the rector, who was then everything for the academy - both the rector and the inspector (there was no inspector), and to whom the actual initiator, Pr., was close - a person close to the academic administration (assistant secretary of the board). We decided to send a description of our case to Herzen in London. The article was compiled and sent to its destination. It is unknown who compiled it: apparently, it was compiled outside the academy, by one of the expelled students. I conclude from the fact that I don’t remember the text at all; obviously never read it. I haven’t read it, it seems, even in printed form, edited, of course, by Herzen himself; at least I don’t remember it at all. I only remember that my comrades rejoiced after the description of our case appeared in Kolokol. The article “Bells” is also mentioned in his memoirs by Rev. Leonty. Noting at the beginning that “dissatisfaction with the management of Ioannikis manifested itself even when he was the rector of the Kyiv Academy (?), - in the articles of the terrible “Bell” that he, Rev. Leonty, on behalf of Metropolitan. Isidora, received and read this magazine,” that having received the issue with a description of our case, he went to the Metropolitan, who “ordered to let Ioannikis read it,” - after all this, he writes further: “I say to Rev. Ioanniki: there is an interesting article in “The Bell” that you need to read; it had already been reported to the now deceased Sovereign, through the III department... I started talking about this because the article “Bells”, during the incident at the academy that I described, served as the reason for a very unfavorable concept of the St. Petersburg public about Ioannikis in the higher spheres and accelerated his appointment to the diocese. My relationship with Ioannikios remained, I can say, noble, fraternal, although he did not appreciate them either then or later, when we had to be together again in St. Petersburg, at the Synod, and when, by the will of fate, he appeared already in a “white hood” (“Theological Bulletin,” 1914, January, p. 142). The “Bell” was handed over to Rev. Ioannikiy in 1862 (i.e., 6 months after Oct. 4, 1861), during Holy Week, as the Most Reverend writes. Leonty. And on the first day of Easter in the same 1862, our rector received the Order of St. Vladimir 4th degree. We gloated greatly over this occasion. After the story of Rev. Leontiy, it becomes clear where such an unusually small reward came from for our rector, the bishop, after his 13-year service (1849–1862). Sovereign Emperor Alexander II (by the way, who very highly valued this order, “bargained,” as they later told me, even for the 4th degree), having read the “Bells” article about Ioannikis, probably himself lowered the degree of the order, from the 3rd to the 4th. Hardly Met. Isidore represented our rector, his vicar, and also a fellow countryman (both from Tula), to the 4th degree. It’s wonderful that Met. Filaret does not attach to our history the name of “rebellion,” or “student indignation,” or any other similar name, but characterizes it simply with the word: “an incident in the Greek class” (“Collected opinions and reviews of Philaret, Metropolitan of Moscow.” M., 1887. T. V, part I, pp. 151–155). The date of this document: October 16, 1861. This precious document was important to me in compiling my memoirs, in addition to its content, also in relation to the chronological data it contained. Without it, I could not accurately indicate not only the day, but even the month when our story happened. I only remembered that the “incident in the Greek class” was either in October or November. This is how even the most important events of our lives are forgotten! The criticism of our sixteen-person statement to the board of the academy is very interesting. Its weakness was felt even by us when, I remember, we edited this document. Moreover, she could not hide from a man of such an extraordinary mind as Metropolitan. Filaret. This is what he writes to our address. "15. In another explanation, 16 students say that 4 Oct. were in class, obeying the will of his reverend. This is legal and approved. 16. At the same time, they say that they share the beliefs of those who were not in the class 4 Oct., next. They also share the belief expressed by 25 students in their explanation that they did not find it possible to go to class on October 4. So, they, at the same time, could not be in the class and were in it. A remarkable example of the strangeness to which the enslavement of one’s own mind to the spirit of complicity leads.” Then there were times (1867–1883) even worse than the 60s, but then the head of the academy was a person who had great pedagogical tact, understanding of young people and the ability to influence them (Proprietor I.L. Yanyshev), and not a single catastrophe happened then. And how many cases there were! To the writer of these lines, this ever-memorable rector, when he became a protopresbyter and left the academy, once said: “All the time of my rector I felt like I was on a volcano, I was not calm for a single minute.” In the memoirs of Rev. N.K. Smirnova (“Memorial book for 1913”, published by the Society for Spiritual and Material Mutual Assistance of Former Students of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy. St. Petersburg, 1914, pp. 77–79) Rev. Ioannikiy is called the rector, “to whom the students of the XXVI year always had a grateful memory.” The facts of the caring nature of the Reverend are also given here. Ioannikios about students and his mercy towards them, the facts are quite eloquent. In the same book, in the diary of Rev. I.K. Khersonsky (p. 105), we read: “1864 Feb. 2. Ave. Ioannikiy gives a farewell speech after the liturgy, in which. (by the way) asks to forgive him for mistakes and troubles caused to someone, etc.” This, however, is a fairly common content of farewell speeches. But here’s what’s unusual - on February 5th. we read: “Departure of the rector of Ave. Ioannikios. Bowing to the ground when parting and kissing students. Donation to students 75 rub. and 25 rubles to those who come.” It is very likely that Rev. At that moment Ioannikios remembered our XXV course and mentally directed his farewell bow to us, and even more to us than to the existing XXVI course. At least I would really like to believe this. There was also glass breaking, although not in rooms, but in certain places of solitude. There and at the same time, one comrade, in a very drunken state, destroyed the class magazine - probably in retaliation for writing in it on October 4th. Both actions, however, deserved general condemnation of the entire course. I remember that this smoking in the rooms and dining room was very unpleasant for people who did not smoke, as A.K. was then. The smoke of bad cheap cigarettes, especially in the dining room, during tea drinking, mixing with the aroma of tea, made it very difficult to enjoy this favorite drink of ours. It was unpleasant when they smoked in the rooms. I remember my comrades, noticing my dislike for tobacco, sometimes said: “Let’s go to the smoking room (it was then a small room we had chosen ourselves, at the entrance to the middle part of the busy rooms), “Lvovich” is already wincing.” My comrades loved me and called me by this name. Inspector Vladimir, a man truly out of this world, who subsequently exchanged his inspectorship at the academy and the associated benefits for his future career for missionary exploits in Altai, apparently understood our state of mind and behaved towards us like a doctor at the bedside of a seriously ill patient, extremely delicately and carefully, and this was not at all because he wanted to accommodate us. It was felt that the source of his treatment of us was different. When, for example, he visited us, he entered our rooms only by very slowly opening the door and closing it, turning his back to us to give us time to hide the traces of any disorder. When someone suffered grief, he discovered an abyss of kindness and cordiality. So, when one of my comrades (N.G. Blagoveshchensky)’s father died and when he came to the inspector to ask for leave on this occasion, good-natured Vladimir hugged him, shed tears and even offered him money for the trip. Truly God himself sent him to us in difficult times for us. As a striking example of such a mood, I will point to one truly venerable relative of mine, an ardent patriot at heart, a very religious person, N.I. Rozov, at that time vice-director of the medical department of the Ministry of Internal Affairs. N.I. with extraordinary respect, almost servility, I listened to Polish speeches (which I witnessed) - the famous Pole, prof. Spasovich, and very much disapproved of Moskovskie Vedomosti and M.N. Katkov, who armed themselves against the Poles and against the vacillations of our government, ironically calling the articles Moscow. newspapers with “rattling” and “leavened patriotism,” a word that was then in great vogue. This was a pure misunderstanding on his part, but then all of St. Petersburg was guilty of it, because he was all “Polish.” I don’t remember well when this incident happened. In all likelihood, not in 1862, but at the end of 1861, around the time of our October history, perhaps at its very height. I conclude this from my indignation and fear for my comrades at the sight of this pitiful document (stupidity?!), as well as from the guess that remained in our memory at that time that this unfortunate sheet - which somehow, as we assumed, nevertheless became known to our superiors - served for some of the comrades (probably Zhdanov, who was very careless in general, perhaps Abramovich and Konst. and Nik. Sokolov) as one of the reasons for their expulsion from the academy. Unfortunately, I was in too much of a hurry to finish the unfortunate sheet and did not look at or remember the names. By the way, we then no longer wore gray overcoats with a stand-up collar and top hats on our heads, as in the first two years (1859–1861), but in a coat that was arranged for us in 1861 with money donated by the then head of the academic church, the merchant Korolev. The cylinder was replaced by a cap. The coat was summer, and we wore it in warm weather, but the overcoat, although it was also not lined with cotton wool, but only with a flannelette lining halfway up (near the chest), was worn in winter. After Rev. Joannikia (rector from October 5, 1860 to January 13, 1864) rector of St. Petersburg. Academy was (from January 13, 1864 to November 9, 1866) archimandrite. John (Sokolov; 2nd Mag. XIII class. Moscow Academician, 1842), from the rector of the Kazan Academy, and from November 27, 1866 to October 19, 1883 - Archpriest I. L. Yanyshev. Jerome. Afanasy Turchanovich (according to Chistovich: Turchinovich), Kiev, 13th Mag. XVIII building Kyiv. acad. (1857), from the teacher. Saratov. family, from 1859 – tank. St. Petersburg academician, 1863 – archim., 1865 – rector. Minsk. family, † 1867. Ivan Terentyevich Osinin, St. Petersburg. Sem., 1st MA. XXII building St. Petersburg. acad. (1857), 1863 – extraord. prof. See: I.A. Chistovich “History of St. Petersburg. spirit. academy. 1858–1888". Page 44–45. Ivan Fedorovich Nilsky, Pskov., 2nd Mag. XXII building St. Petersburg. academician (1857). Ivan Vasilievich Cheltsov, Ryazan, 4th magician. XIX building. St. Petersburg. acad. (1851), 1851 – bachelor, 1856–1859 – economics academician, 1859 – extraord. prof., 1860 – ord. prof., † 1878. Alexander Mikhailovich Ivantsov-Platonov, Kursk, 2nd Master. XXII building Moscow. acad. (1860), in 1863 – scholar of law. Moscow Alexandrovsky military taught, then - prof. church history in Moscow. University, 1877 – Doctor of Theology. Vasily Ivanovich Dolotsky, St. Petersburg, 5th Mag. XII building. St. Petersburg. acad. (1837), 1839 – bachelor, 1851 – extraord. prof., 1852 – order. prof. This subject was called liturgics in our academy, and even in the Kazan Academy, where at first it was also called “ecclesiastics” (See: P.V. Znamensky “History of the Kazan Theological Academy...”, vol. II, p. 313). At the Moscow Academy there was no “liturgics”, but only “church archaeology”. In the Kiev Academy, this subject was called either liturgics or church archeology, combined with canon law (see “Lists of beginnings and instructions of the Kiev Academician,” p. 9). Very thin, he was nicknamed “power” by the students. Probably, the subject of his readings also influenced the origin of such a nickname. My comrades at times expressed surprise at why I was such an attentive listener and diligent visitor to V.I.D.’s lectures. I probably had a presentiment that I would have to teach this subject, in addition to the interest that it itself aroused in me and which our venerable professor knew how to awaken with his readings. Alexey Ivanovich Parvov, Novgorod, 3rd Mag. XXII building St. Petersburg. acad. (1857), 1857 – tank. homil. and basics Divine service, 1859 – church. laws, 1860 – priest. c. Engineering Castle, 1864 – extraord. prof., 1865 – prof. and insist. c. Learned. jurisprudence, 1883 – chairman. Textbook Committee at the Holy Synod, † 1897. Fedor Samoilovich Nadezhdin, Kiev, 4th master. XVIII building Kyiv. acad. (1855), 1855 – teacher. Novgorod. Sem., 1859 – tank. St. Petersburg academician, 1863 – extraord. prof., † 1866. Ivan Egorovich Troitsky, Olonets, 7th degree, XXIII class, St. Petersburg. acad. (1859), 1859 – teacher. Olonets. Sem., 1861 – tank. St. Petersburg acad. in Greek language, 1863 – according to the new church. history, 1866 – extraord. prof., 1875 – ord. prof. and Dr. theology, † 1901. For this I must say a big thank you to Rev. Joannikia. It was not the same under his successor, Rev. John (Sokolov; Bishop of Smolensk), who, both at the Kazan Academy and later at the St. Petersburg Academy, himself assigned a topic to each student, without taking into account anything, neither the strengths nor the inclination of the students for a certain type of work, and sometimes gave topics that were simply impossible by their very essence, so that even oddities of this kind happened, as P.V. tells. Znamensky in his “History of the Kazan spirit. academy." The same thing happened in our academy with the course that followed ours - XXVI, one of the best students of which, A. V. Beletsky, had to graduate as a candidate due to an unsuccessful topic. Then, long later (in 1871), he received a master's degree for a new essay. Such failure befell “many of this course,” as former student of this course A. S. Rodossky notes in his “Biographical Dictionary...” (p. 59). Didn't contact Yves. T. Osinin - partly so as not to lose independence in my work, partly because the initial formulation of the topic gave me, perhaps, an unfounded idea that the professor himself was hardly well acquainted with the subject of my topic. N.G. Blagoveshchensky, Tver, 11th Mag., teacher. Viteb. sem., inspection and direct. adv. learned. Pskov. gub., then Revelsk., 1898 - retired, † 1899. Thesis topic: “Protestant movements in England before the time of the Reformation.” See the diary of Archpriest. P.K. Khersonsky in the “Memorable Book for 1913”, ed. Spirit Society. and mother mutual assistance of former pets of St. Petersburg. spirit. Academy, St. Petersburg, 1914. In I. A. Chistovich in “History of St. Petersburg. spirit. academy" (p. 75) we read: "Transitional exams for students of the lower department and final exams for students of the higher department were carried out - the former by the academic board, the latter by the conference, with the participation of external members of the conference, who were appointed by deputies in various subjects of the academic course." These are the external members of the conference of our time, by seniority - not by the completion of their academic course, but by the order of their appointment as members: Rev. Morsk. Nikol. Cathedral I.D. Kolokolov - since 1831, prot. Law school M.I. Bogoslovsky - since 1893, archim. Avvakum (Honest), member of the Censorship Committee - since 1842, adv. prot. I. V. Rozhdestvensky - since 1848, prot. Kazan. cathedral G. S. Debolsky - since 1848, prot. Educate total good girls I.K. Yakhontov - since 1855, priest. teaches the law 3rd St. Petersburg. gymnasium K. P. Dobronravin († Hermogenes, bishop of Pskov) - from 1855, prot. Nikol. orphans. Institute V.V. Grechulevich († Bishop Vitaly) - since 1860, prot. Kazan. cathedral F. F. Sidonsky - since 1862, prot. c. St. Petersburg University P. F. Solyarsky - since 1862. All of them were very respectable persons and famous in the scientific, especially spiritual world. Of these, the most prominent were: Doctor of Theology, Rev. M.I. Bogoslovsky, F.F. Sidonsky, our famous philosopher, who also possessed enormous erudition in other sciences, and Archimandrite. Avvakum (Honest, Tver, senior candidate, and then magician, VIII class, 1829, St. Petersburg. academician), a famous sinologist who took a trip with the novelist Goncharov on the frigate “Pallada” and is a well-characterized, highly respected scientist. He seemed to suffer from a weakness for alcoholic beverages. I remember we were waiting for him to take the exam on the Holy Scriptures, and he was sitting in the guard booth at the entrance to the academy, with the Vladimir 2nd degree star on his cassock. Having rested, he nevertheless appeared for the exam a short time later. He had a very good-natured character. His fellow countrymen, the Tverians, came to see him. Riding on a steamboat was very beneficial for a student exhausted by exams, so that in just two days I somewhat improved my health, which, by the way, was not worsened by the damp St. Petersburg climate, but, on the contrary, generally speaking, strengthened. In Nizhny, thanks to its mountain air and strong winds, I always felt worse than in St. Petersburg. Once we even went on foot to the Bolshoi Theater (then the Italian opera) to listen to the famous Tamberlik in the role of Othello and his “ut-sharp”, begged the attendant for a negligible fee to stand in the district, and then also walked back to the academy. The result for me was that I got sick. Another time we went, also on foot, to the Botanical Garden on Aptekarsky Island. It will be a round trip from the academy, probably at least 12 miles, not counting the walk through the garden. N.N. Nikolsky, Tula, 32nd candidate, was teaching. Yaroslav. family Passed away. I remember we were embarrassed to offer him because of our relationship with Metropolitan. Isidore and fellowship with Rev. Ioannikiy, sign the statement of the 16, regarding the history of October 4. This means that we were not devoid of a certain amount of delicacy and were not completely bad young people. “The priest in a passion says: “After this, all the rebels must be made candidates.” I sternly remarked: “The rioters are kept in prisons. The Academy is not a prison, but what right do you, a bachelor only, not a member of the conference, but its secretary, have to raise your voice and give judgment? Your job is to write down what the conference determines." Reverend Leonty is mistaken here: The Rev. was then an extraordinary professor and had the right to vote, if only with this condition he was elevated to this rank. Then, according to I. A. Chistovich, they were elevated to extra professor with or without the assignment of this right. In the same way, Rev. Leonty forgot that not all of us were masters and candidates, and four people graduated as students (though the weakest in terms of success). In conclusion, Rev. Leonty writes: “The priest, however, served for a long time at the academy and, it seems, rose to the rank of emeritus professor, although for his depraved life he should have been removed from the academy in time.” There was little time left for processing. I wrote the preface after finishing all the work on the essay, I wrote hastily, without thinking through the expressions, even completely forgetting that I was writing a dissertation that was subject to criticism by reviewers. In addition, I did not rewrite my draft myself; in personal correspondence, I would probably change a lot. And most importantly, it was necessary to place my conclusions and general judgments not at the beginning, but at the very end of the essay. If you did this, you would avoid many objections that would be eliminated by the very content of my essay. Reading my general judgments and conclusions, one reviewer (Proprietor Yakhontov), ​​to his surprise, even remarked at the end of my introduction that it was “completely superfluous” (?!). In all likelihood, he would not have made such a remark if my introduction had been attributed to the end of the work and had been its conclusion. In my printed book “The History of Attempts to Unite the Greek and Latin Churches in the First Four Centuries after Their Separation” (St. Petersburg, 1868), the preface was completely revised and all the above general judgments and conclusions were excluded from it. But I was sorry to completely throw them away. In processed form, I placed them in a separate article in the Orthodox Review (1865, January and February) under the title “The History of Attempts to Resolve the Question of the Union of Churches and its Future Fate.” Here are the scores for both courses, junior and senior, for comparison. This score sheet was signed by A. I. Predtechensky. The score for my course essay was 9.16 because one of the reviewers (Proprietor Yakhontov) gave it a score of 8½. Dividing 10, 9½ and 8½ into three parts, we get 9.16. From the table in the previous note, it is precisely from the case of F. G. El-m, placed in the list at No. 9, that it is undoubtedly seen that the greatest importance was attached to the works. U F. G. El. the scores for oral answers were almost identical to mine (-1) and much higher (by 0.42) than N. Barsov’s scores (No. 3 on the list), and, however, he is placed on the list much lower than both of us, and this is because he had a very low score for essays - only 6.82. This score depended on random reasons (his essays were always very good), namely on the failure to submit some essays in his senior year. There were a lot of them then: six and one sermon. I remember that many did not submit two or three essays then. And for failure to submit these one or three essays, everyone, including F.G. El., deducted from the overall score for essays. And when they started compiling the list, the low score on the essays naturally pulled all of them, including F.G. El., down. Why, then, is my highest score of all in this category (9.71) higher than Tim’s score. Barsova (0.39), didn’t pull me up? My low grade on the coursework (9.16) would not have interfered, just as F.G. El did not interfere. his very high score on the coursework. (9.57), much higher than mine and Tim. Barsova (9.16 and 9.50), safely go down to No. 9. My relatively low average score on the course essay, in view of Prof.’s brilliant review of it. Cheltsov, naturally lost his strength. What Rev. Ioannikiy was angry with me until the last days of my student life, this can be seen from the words of prof. V.I. Dolotsky. When, leaving for Moscow for a post, I came to say goodbye to him and for advice regarding the teaching of church archeology that was ahead of me, this venerable mentor told me: “It’s a pity that the Reverend is very angry with you for not influencing (?!) your comrades, in the sense of fulfilling the will of their superiors on October 4.” I remember that these words were not caused by the course of our conversation, but came out of him somehow accidentally, as if to explain why I should go to the Moscow Academy. Here are the masters of our course: Tim. Barsov, A. Katansky, Nick. Barsov († acting ord. prof. St. Petersburg academician.), E. Megorsky (rector of the Novgorod Sem., † present. Kazan. Cathedral in St. Petersburg), A. Tachalov (psalm., then archpriest of the Wiesbaden Church, † present. of the Paris Embassy Church), Iv. Obraztsov († Archpriest of the St. Petersburg Ascension Church, professor of the St. Petersburg Historical and Philological Institute, member of the Educational Committee at the Holy Synod), Hierarch. Vladimir Nikolsky († bishop of Nizhny Novgorod.), G. Penkovsky († teacher. Novgorod. sem.), F. Eleonsky († honorary order of prof. St. Petersburg. academician.), O. Shcherbitsky († inspector. Lithuanian sem.), N. Blagoveshchensky († direct. people's teacher.), A. Nekrasov († acting ord. prof. Kazan acad.), Andrey Veshchezerov († teacher. Tver sem.). With the right to a master's degree, upon presentation of new works, - F. Smirnov († secret. Lithuanian Consist.), P. Iovlev († prot. St. Petersburg Konyushennaya Ts.), V. Golubkov († inspector. Yarosl. sem.). Of the candidates in our course, the most outstanding and the one who occupied the highest position among all his classmates turned out to be Alexey Alekseevich Opotsky, a native of Pskov, still living, now His Eminence Archbishop and member of the Holy Synod Alexy, who is retired in the Moscow Donskoy Monastery. A. A. Opotsky, the overall favorite of the entire course for his kindness and sympathetic character, 1864 - inspection. Vilensk. spirit. taught, 1871 – prot. Grodno Sofiysk personal and teacher of the law Grodno. anthem., 1872 – approved. in the steppe Ph.D. Theologian, 1891 – archimandrite. and rect. Litovsk. Sem., 1893 – ep. Balakhn., Vik. Nizhny Novgorod, 1896 – ep. Vyatsky, 1901 – archbishop, Exarch of Georgia, 1905 – archbishop. Tverskoy and member of the Holy Synod, 1910 - retired to Moscow. Donsk. mon., with its control. More than once I happened to hear rave reviews about him as a teacher of law at the gymnasium from his former student, hordes. Academician of the Academy of Sciences and director of the St. Petersburg Historical and Philological Institute. Institute, V.V. Latyshev. I remember hearing them for the first time from this deeply learned academician at the dedication of the Most Reverend. Alexy in the Alexander Nevsky Lavra, where his ardent admirer, V.V. Latyshev arrived on purpose to see the consecration of his former teacher of the law. Of my living classmates, I can count, besides myself, only three more: Archbishop. Alexy (Opotsky), V. A. Vasnetsov (Vyatsk, 26th candidate, teacher of Astrakh. Sem.), N.G. Smiryagina (St. Petersburg, 41st candidate, Prot. Petersburg. Birth of Christ Church). Maybe someone else is still alive, I would like to know about it. Subsequently, I had the opportunity to hear from I.E. a recognition that does great honor to the nobility of his character, namely, that my dissertation was very useful to him (even, I remember, he expressed it more strongly) in composing the first lectures on a new subject for him. And when, in 1868, it was printed, then, at the suggestion of the same I.E. Tr-go, several dozen copies of it were purchased for the academic library, as a benefit for students to prepare for the exam on new church history. You might be interested in: