Letter to Professor E.E. Golubinsky, with objections to his book “History of the Russian Church. T. 1"

Given the impossibility of expressing my objections to you at the debate, I, out of a sense of personal respect for you and for the sake of the interests of historical knowledge, consider it my duty to express them in print in the same form as they were prepared for an oral conversation with you. Agreeing with everything that was expressed by official opponents about the merits of your book, I think it would not be superfluous to point out its special, unique quality. Rarely a page in your book does not arouse in the reader a series of perplexities, doubts, hesitations and various questions; on the one hand, this is, of course, a drawback, but in most cases it depended not so much on you as on the object itself. On the other hand, this is a great advantage: almost every page incites curiosity, maintains interest, introduces new aspects of known issues and leads to new questions. Because of this quality, your book is simply a lever for the further movement of “Russian Church History” and at the same time a force that helps to wield this lever. Having limited myself to this general remark on the merits of your book, I proceed to state my objections. First of all, I draw my attention to the “Chronicle Tale of the Baptism of St. Vladimir." Not without reason, in your speech with which you opened the debate, you brought forward your view of this story: it, you said, confused some theological minds and you yourself personally had to listen to the condemnation of your opinion. Expressing your views, you even tried to cover yourself with the authority of other historiographers, who even before you questioned the actual meaning of this story. But we, for our part, must note that history, as a science, cannot be embarrassed by anyone’s personal opinions or feelings: it knows only one historical truth. The honor of a strictly critical attitude towards this story belongs to you: no one has subjected it to such a thorough analysis before. Your criticism has certainly proven the significance of this story as fiction. The only question now is how to look at this fiction? Is this a legend created from historical motives, or is it a plot, a pure invention of the Greek, which was in no way consistent with historical reality. You prove the latter. But it is difficult to imagine that the popes, who always kept a vigilant eye on the pagan peoples and sent their missions everywhere, lost sight of Rus'. After all, this Rus' was too well known in the West during the time of Vladimir. After all, this Rus' occupied the entire eastern half of Europe. After all, this Rus', even after converting to Christianity, never ceased to be the subject of Rome’s plans. Is it possible to allow the popes to leave her out of sight when she was still a pagan and especially when she was preparing to accept Christianity? It is even less possible to admit that the Greeks, to whom barbarian Rus' more than once made themselves felt by their raids, did not try by all means in one way or another to influence Vladimir to accept the Greek faith. From the political point of view of the Greeks, accepting the Greek faith meant at the same time entering into Greek citizenship, or, as Photius puts it, placing oneself in the rank of subjects (ἔν ὑπηχόων ταξει). And indeed we see that this policy of the Greeks had an effect on Russia for a long time - with its adoption of Greek Christianity. Thus, in the act of the Council of Constantinople, which took place in the 2nd half of the 12th century, precisely in 1176, at which the Russian Metropolitan Michael II was present, it is directly stated that Russian metropolitans who accepted their powers from the Patriarch of Constantinople had to take an oath of allegiance to the Greeks as part of their confession 2 . It is also known that the Grand Russian Prince, even in the 14th century, was treated in Constantinople in the modest rank of steward of Greek inspectors 3 . Finally, in your own book it was noted that the Greek Emperors included the names of peoples who supported the Orthodox faith in their title, considering them as if they were vassals to themselves. This policy of the Greeks, aimed at subjugating peoples through their faith and so persistently pursued by them in their relations with Orthodox Russia, should have been included in the views of the Greeks early on; since then, when they first experienced the raids of barbarian Russia and precisely in order, at least, at least for the future to protect themselves from similar raids. And so, we say, it is difficult to deny that on the part of the pope, and even more so on the part of the Greeks, there were no real attempts to influence Vladimir to convert Russia to Christianity. What kind of attempts these were, in what form they took place, whether through special envoys or in some other way, simultaneously or, most likely, at different times, we do not undertake to decide. But the considerations we have expressed lead to the conviction that the “story of the baptism of Vladimir” reflects some real attempts on the part of the popes and Greeks to subjugate Russia through faith. With such a view of this story, there is no need to consider it, as you claim, a chimerical invention of some Greek. The basis for such an assumption, indicated by you in your closing prayer, is too shaky. Here is this prayer: “Oh, holy Tsar Constantine and Volodymyr! Help your relatives against you and save people from all Greek and Russian troubles.” Having compared Vladimir with Tsar Constantine, the scribe, naturally, put both peoples, Russians and Greeks, of whom these kings were educators: this could be written by a Greek or a Russian scribe. If, in your opinion, a humble Russian would not dare to ask the prayers of these saints for the high Greeks, then we, in turn, have the right to think that a proud Greek would care even less about prayers in heaven for the “little” Russians. This foundation, we say, is too shaky. It is much more likely to assume that this story is nothing more than a legend, gleaned by a scribe from folk legends. As you know, many such legends are recorded in the chronicles. It is impossible that such a political act as the prince’s public adoption of Christianity would not arouse various tales among the people and give rise to legends; but just as any legend reflects one or another historical fact, this “story of the baptism of Vladimir” presupposes corresponding historical motives. That such legends undoubtedly existed, an irresistible confirmation of this is the “epic story about how Prince Vladimir married the Greek princess Anna” that we recorded. It is worthy of note that at Vladimir’s feast, when he equipped the Kiev heroes to take his bride to Constantinople, Greek heroes also sat next to the Russians: Oh, you are Russian heroes, Aw, you daring woodpiles! Nne as we have on arrival Yes, did he come from Tsar-Grad; Did he come to the capital city of Kiev: Like another mighty hero Did he come from the land of Turkey: They are sitting in the princely chambers Is it at your table at the roundabout? Then Vladimir turns to the Russian heroes and asks: Oh, you Russian mighty heroes! Do you know if I should marry the princess? Dobrynya Nikitich, among other things, responded to this: And I was in the back time, I looked at his daughter and all together: Her eyebrow is black and sable, She has the clear eyes of a falcon; Yes, she becomes a camp, She is tall and tall; There is a bright moon in her forehead She has hair and frequent stars, etc. Then the heroes go to Constantinople with a “letter of promise”, the princess goes into marriage, but on the condition that he “leave his former life and be baptized into the baptized faith.” From such folk legends, in our opinion, the book legend about the baptism of Vladimir was formed, which must necessarily reflect the relevant historical facts. Different editions of this story are due to the same folk character: the primary basis concerned only attempts to convert Vladimir to Christianity by the Pope and the Greeks, then it was complicated by the Khazar Jews and other random motives. This is our opinion - about the reality of these attempts, which represent the historical motive of this story, does not in the least contradict the position you have proven about Vladimir’s personal Christianity: he himself could have actually been raised as a Christian, could have been enlightened by the Varangians, could have been baptized before his people and precisely in Vasiliev, but this in no way prevented either the pope or the Greeks at the same time or, most likely, at different times, from making attempts aimed at public his confession of his faith and the conversion of his people to Christianity. On the contrary, rumors about his secret Christianity could have aroused political plans and decisive measures in both the pope and the Greeks to subjugate Rus' through faith. So, our first objection is that, when analyzing the story of the baptism of Vladimir, you omitted to take into account the political relations of Rome and Byzantium - to barbarian Rus', which are so noticeably reflected in this story. Therefore, have you not mistakenly reduced its entire meaning to a plot fabricated by a Greek? Isn’t it more reasonable, in view of the political relations we have indicated, to accept it in the sense of a legend, reflecting actual historical motives, attempts at different times on the part of popes and Greeks, through their faith, to subjugate Russia to their power during the period of its paganism? Further, we allow ourselves to draw attention to the article “on the spread of Christianity in the Novogorod colonies,” as a region especially known to us. The information reported about this in your “Church History” is extremely meager and meager, and, moreover, is not always correct. The positive news about the baptism of foreigners in the Novgorod region, you say, consists only in the fact that, according to the chronicle, in 1227, Prince Yaroslav Vsevolodovich “sent to baptize many Korels, not all the people.” But there is earlier evidence of this: so in 1136 Svyatoslav decided to take the bishop 100 hryvnia instead of tithes and “from the Obonezsky row in Olontsi on Svir, in Yuskol, in Tervinichy, near Vyunitsa” (Karamz. III, p. 111 note 267). All these parishes, from which church tribute was collected in the 12th century, still exist. There are even more ancient witnesses to the same fact - archaeological witnesses. Thus, between the Ilyinsky churchyard and the village of Eroiloy there are two crosses carved from limestone; their shape is Byzantine, and the notch on them in Slavic letters is convex; judging by the inscriptions, these crosses date back to the 11th century. Two similar crosses made of wild sandstone are located in the Olonetsky district between the Andrusov and Syandem deserts. Although there is no inscription on these latter, by their form they should also be attributed to extreme antiquity 4 . Finally, in the 12th century, monasteries already existed in this region. This is for example Muromsky Monastery. Historians attribute the founding of this monastery to different times: Metropolitan Eugene of Kiev and Metropolitan Macarius of Moscow to the 11th century; others - Filaret, Archbishop. Chernigovsky and N.I. Kostomarov to the 14th century. But both are wrong. In one State Archive we found an act in which we read the following: “The palace peasants of the Vytegorsky and Andomsky and Pudozhsky volosts, the elders and ordinary peasants and all the contributors to the Murom monastery were beaten with the brow of the Great Sovereign: in the past in 6697 (i.e., in 1189) in the Zaonezhskaya Pyatina in the Vodlozersky camp, the Muromsky monastery was built: the structure was secular, ancient, and the Novgorodians gave it to that monastery for support posadniks Ivan and Volos and land and water, etc.” What is especially remarkable here is that in the 12th century this monastery was founded precisely by zemstvo people. In view of this evidence, the well-known story about Murom Island should be considered apocryphal. The Paleostrovsky monastery is of the same antiquity; some attributed it to the 16th century; Based on local acts, we attributed it to the 12th century; but then later, in the collection of the late M.I. Pogodin, we were able to see a letter on a piece of parchment, from which it is clear that this monastery already existed in the 12th century. Even more ancient was the Shunga monastery: Shunga still serves as a central point for the exchange of fur goods from the White Sea with goods from the lower Volga region. The oldest charter of the Novgorod mayors is also known, although in a later list. You say that Christianity spread in the Novgorod colonies not so much through the deliberate efforts of the Novgorodians, which we have no reason to believe in them, but rather by itself as the foreigners became Russified. But both are true. The patronage of the Novgorod mayors of the most ancient monasteries sufficiently indicates that they were far from indifferent to the Christian element among the Finnish population. Further, it is completely false that “Christianity spread only after Russification.” To this day, the Povenets Korela, driven into mosses and swamps or into rocky, barren places, has not become Russified at all, does not even know how to speak Russian, and remains the same “cursed” Korela (Karelians are one of the indigenous Finnish tribes that originally lived in Karelia. They note, for example, the Korels of Petrozavodsk, Povenets and Olonets districts - Editor’s note) that it was from time immemorial and yet we see it as Christian. This fact serves as irresistible proof that Christianity spread in the Novgorod colonies not only due to Russification, but precisely because of the efforts of the Novgorodians. And if we read in the chronicle, “that already in 1227 Yaroslav sent to baptize Korel, not all people”, then the question is, what other basis is required in order to enter into Church History that in the pre-Mongol period Christianity was spread among the Finnish northern population, precisely through the efforts of the Novgorodians? From the above evidence it is clear that the Christianization of Korel was almost completed in 1227, and their Russification has not yet followed. Then we move on to the department: “translated writing”. We can supplement the meager list of well-known works of an interpretative nature that have survived to us from the pre-Mongol period, consisting of only 5 issues, with a new hitherto unknown work entitled: “The Evangelist Matthew, interpreted by Chrysostom.” This manuscript of the 14th–15th centuries belongs to our collection. That the translation of this interpretation dates back to ancient times, to the pre-Mongol period, can be seen here 1) from many of the most ancient Slavic words that are not in either Miklosic’s dictionary or Vostokov’s dictionary, such as, for example. rushes (sleep), drunkenness (suspicion), slud, etc. 2) From the use of some words with Greek endings, for example. Christianos (instead of Christian), Christos (instead of Christ). 3) And finally, from keeping some Greek words without translation, such as. vlasfimia, grain synapno, etc. The importance of this manuscript for Russian Church History is determined by the fact that it represents a reduction of the famous conversations of Chrysostom on the Gospel of Matthew: this is nothing more than a Slavic alteration of these conversations, intended, obviously, for the original Christians of the Slavic tribe. It follows that we do not know much in the history of our church, not because our ancestors left us few written monuments, but because many of them still remain unknown to us. Everything we know came to us by chance and there is no doubt that many more new accidental discoveries in this area will follow. Here we cannot help but notice that you rather strangely define the attitude of pre-Mongol scribes to the written language of that time. You e.g. You assume that back then bookish people preferred not to read biblical-interpretative and dogmatic books, and you explain this in the following original way. “Since understanding such books requires interpretation, and interpretation can be correct or incorrect, and since our ancestors, with their absolutely no (?) education, could not have confidence in their ability to interpret the law, then from reading these books they had to be afraid, the fear of becoming people who are not intentionally not legal-minded.” (p. 609). An opinion that, in our opinion, is completely incorrect, neither in the psychological sense nor in the ethnographic sense. Is it possible that any scribe, who has a true interest in reading books, would be stopped in his curiosity by such syllogisms? Is it possible that, unable to distinguish right from wrong and seeking only spiritual food and a moral ideal, he was afraid of incorrect interpretations and, out of a feeling of similar fear, began to evade the divine book? We say that this is also incorrect in the ethnographic sense: it is not for nothing that even now theological and biblical-interpretative works cost the most on the Moscow antique market: people love them, read and interpret them, not at all embarrassed by their interpretations; The above-mentioned precious manuscript of the Evangelist Matthew, interpreted by Chrysostom, was preserved for us precisely by the folk scribes. We boldly assert that a common scribe will prefer the most sophisticated patristic work to the most accessible secular book, and will prefer it precisely because he is not afraid of interpretations and interprets calmly, seeking a moral ideal, in accordance with his understanding. It is also impossible not to notice here that the ancient Slavic language is much more understandable for the people than it seems to us: at least in the northern folk language, there are many Church Slavonic words that can no longer be found anywhere except in the ancient church book. Then, by the way, you come across the following: “books were extremely expensive and could only be purchased by very rich people; Consequently, book reading, due to the strength of things, should have been limited only to this small circle of rich people.” (p. 611). Firstly, you forget that books were then distributed not so much through purchase as through copying, and this latter was a matter of saving the soul; no matter how difficult this path of obtaining a book was, whoever wanted it had to find high moral pleasure in it. Secondly, the acquisition of books is not determined by wealth, but by an internal need for them. If you were more familiar with the Moscow antique market, you would be convinced that books, even very expensive ones, are bought not so much by rich people, but by poor people. You would then be surprised to learn that some peasants save money for several years and only in order to come to Moscow and buy any book for themselves, even if it is very expensive. We personally have one of the poorest peasants (Novgor. Gub.) offered ten rubles to buy him the book “The Most Bright Star” in Moscow. Therefore, we will say in turn, your conclusion that in the pre-Mongol period “book reading should have been limited only to a small circle of rich people” is very doubtful. Finally, we allow ourselves to draw attention in the secular writing department to your article about “The Tale of Igor’s Campaign” (p. 700). Beginning with Metropolitan Eugene, church historians focused their scholarly attention on this famous monument of secular writing; but everyone touched him only, one might say, in passing. Filaret of Chernigov included it in his history of spiritual literature; and you are the first to have the honor of introducing it into the course of Russian church history. From now on, he will never escape the attention of all future Russian church historians. There are indeed aspects in the “Word” in which it essentially comes into contact with the tasks of church history. His literature contains questions that have not yet been fully clarified, in the solution of which the criticism of a church historian could be especially authoritative. This is for example the question of whether the author was a Christian in the proper sense, or whether he was such only in name; or the question of whether the mythological names of the gods mentioned in the word represent the true beliefs of the Rus' of that time or are they just poetic images, rhetorical embellishments that did not correspond at all to reality? Unfortunately, your book does not provide answers to these modern problems of word literature. You consider it in your church history from the side from which it least of all has a place here, namely, from the literary side. It is impossible not to notice that this monument is very significantly included in the circle of general education, and it has been sufficiently studied not only in itself, but also in its relation to the well-known chronicle legend about Igor’s campaign, and therefore the judgment about its literary merits required greater caution on your part. But while denying the high merits of this poetic monument of the 12th century, you, for some reason, find it necessary to somewhat diminish its artistic significance. “The Tale of Igor’s Campaign,” you say, “is undoubtedly a very good and very remarkable poetic work, but we have the courage to think heretical or not heretical that it is nothing more, and that it is far from the height of perfection.” Where, however, do you see the lack of his perfection? “It, you say, is usually read after a preliminary thorough acquaintance with the events and persons that are sung in it, which acquaintance is served by the story of Igor’s campaign, read in the Hypatian Chronicle and conveying the events very fully not only with external thoroughness, but also with internal liveliness. But put aside this preliminary acquaintance, which, when reading the Lay, completes the picture, and you will see in it more flickering shadows than living and finished images. (p. 704). and so “the thoroughness of the presentation of the event” is your criterion for evaluating two completely dissimilar works of poetry and prose, live speech addressed to listeners, and a chronicle story. It is hardly permissible to judge the perfection of such works on the same basis. It is absolutely true that the chronicle story tells about Igor’s campaign with all its details; but the “Lay”, both in its task and in its form, is a completely different work: it conveys to us not so much a campaign as the political thoughts and feelings of an eyewitness to the suffering and disasters of Kievan Rus caused by this campaign. If the chronicle story is only a story about a campaign, then in the Lay the whole of Kievan Rus rises before us both in its state ideal and in its bitter reality. If that is a historical story about an event, then “The Lay” is a living political speech about the situation of Kievan Rus regarding this event. In view of this, it seems strange to us that you are trying to belittle the artistic significance of the Lay for its lack of detail of fact and for the brevity of its historical outlines. Continuing the comparison of “The Lay” with a story, you say that you almost have to admit that in some cases prose is higher than poetry, that is, a story of artistic expression, and you give the following example. On the day Igor set out on a campaign against the Polovtsians, a solar eclipse occurred; on this occasion, he says - from the chronicler - to the squad, which saw in this a bad omen for themselves: “brothers and squad, no one knows the secrets of God, but God is the creator of the sign (as) and to the whole world, and what God does for us, either for our good or for our evil, is also for us to see”; in the Word on the same occasion, Igor says: “brothers and squad! I wish I could be better off than I am full of being, but everyone, brethren, is on their own frivolous thoughts.” “The first is to the point and wonderful,” you note, but the same cannot be said about the second” (p. 704). First of all, we note that this sign was “not on the day Igor set out on a campaign,” but already when he led his troops into the Polovtsian land. A closer look at this comparison then leads to the opposite conclusion. Theological thoughts regarding this sign were obviously put into Igor’s mouth by the chronicler-monk: he even makes him repent of his sins and ascribes to him a whole repentant confession. Igor did not obey the heavenly sign and continued on his way: it was difficult to decide on this due to theological considerations. The author of “The Lay” portrays Igor at this moment much more naturally: the solar eclipse only irritated his brave spirit more, only aroused him more to military feat: he goes against the sign of the sky itself: his determination is irrevocable “Brothers and squad,” he says, “it seems, it’s better to be cut down than to be in full: well, all of us on greyhound horses,” or as further “with “You, Russians,” he says, “I want to either lay down my head or drink from the Don with my helmet.” Explaining the meaning of these speeches, the author of the Lay adds: The Prince's temper overpowered his mind And the longing to drink a helmet from the Don, Signs took their place in it 5. From this we can see what Igor’s moral mood was like at the moment of the solar eclipse and are the theological thoughts put into his mouth by the chronicler appropriate here? Even less, in our opinion, your judgment about Yaroslavna’s crying seems correct. “Firstly, you say, Yaroslavna could cry a little more extensively, and also a little more sensitively; secondly, here’s the strange thing: she lost not only her husband, but also her son, a young man in his first youth, and yet her crying is limited only to her husband, without a word touching on her son, we think that a very good poet would not have forgotten about his mother and would even put her ahead of his wife. (Ibid.)". We can only call all the demands presented strange. You cannot measure the merits of crying by the number of tears and the artistry of a lament by its length. You cannot ask why a wife cries for her husband, forgetting her son, since one grief suppresses the other: this is an ordinary psychological process. After all, Igor’s nephew was also with him; One can, perhaps, demand why Yaroslavna forgot him in her crying; after all, she could love him no less than her son. All the claims you expressed stemmed from one circumstance: you lost sight of the fact that Yaroslavna’s cry is not at all a lyrical lament: after all, it is nothing more than an epic prayer addressed to elemental forces for the protection of Igor and his squad. The closeness of this cry to folk conspiracies leaves no doubt that it, too, in its essence is nothing more than a spell on military weapons. Demands for spaciousness or greater sensitivity are completely inappropriate. Praying for Igor, she prays at the same time for the warriors of her dear Lada, in whose ranks her son stood. The salvation of Igor and his return to Russia appears in the Lay as the result of this prayer. Then, it is impossible not to agree with your following points about the “Word”: “The Word” is not a folk epic in the sense that it was composed orally and gradually by the impersonal creativity of many and then was only written down by someone already ready: it is undoubtedly a literary or poetic work in the proper sense, belonging to one particular author who composed or composed it; in general, in the proper sense, the work of an unknown writer. The “Word” should not be understood as a single and exceptional phenomenon of its kind, but should be considered the only one that has reached us, or the only monument so far known to us from a whole series of similar monuments of our troubadour. But aren’t both of these provisions in conflict with your entire previous main topic about enlightenment, a brief extract of which is reduced to the following: our enlightenment consisted of literacy alone or the ability to read; in a word, our enlightenment in the pre-Mongol period was at the very last level of the highest possible level (p. 614). In fact, if in the 12th century and earlier there were many such written literary works as the “Tale of Igor’s Host” that has come down to us, which has been admired by the entire enlightened Slavic world for about a hundred years, then it is already becoming very doubtful that our enlightenment in the pre-Mongol period, at least in the advanced druzhina-boyar word, stood at such a low level to which the previous head of your church leads us history. Concluding my objections with this, I make it my duty to express that I cannot yield to anyone in my deepest respect for the works of many years and many volumes; Science cannot be advanced without a number of mistakes. After the objections of the official opponents N.I. Subbotin and V.O. Klyuchevsky, objections made with scholarly dignity, thoroughly thought out and versatile, the dispute, as you know, took on such a cheerful character, after which it was impossible to resume a serious scholarly conversation. The honor of discovering this precious historical monument in one of the foreign archives belongs to professor - canonist A. S. Pavlov, who always showed us the very list of this act. By pointing to it, we are only declaring a new discovery by A. S. Pavlov, who has already greatly enriched the science of canon law with similar discoveries. Russian Histor. Bible T. VI, p. 274. Olon. Lip. Ved. For 1867, No. 46. That this is how the corresponding place in the original should be translated, this will be clarified by us in our study of the “Word”.