Глава II. Жизнь в миру

Fr.'s childhood years quickly flashed by. Macarius, and at the same time the years of his upbringing and training. If even now, with universal military service, wealthy merchants rarely send their children through gymnasiums and universities and limit their education only to city schools and rarely to real gymnasiums in order to acquire some rights to benefits when serving military service, then with all the more right could commercial people of the thirties and forties of the last century argue in this way. The “recruitment receipt” at that time fully guaranteed freedom from military service for merchant children, no matter how many of them the father of the family had. Ivan Dionisievich Sushkin is no exception to the number of businessmen of that time. He decided, having his own personal experience, that five years of study in a private boarding school was enough for a boy, especially a diligent one, to become an excellent “helper” and a good assistant in trade, and Ivan Dionisievich, given the complexity of his trading operations, was in dire need of “his own eye.” In particular, in Ivan Dionisievich’s view, his Misha was sufficiently trained and already had the right to be considered an educated businessman. He “read well, knew arithmetic well” and quickly knew how to translate foreign monetary exchange rates into Russian and back, which was a great godsend for Ivan Dionisievich in transactions with foreigners, with whom the Sushkins mainly traded. From a commercial point of view, the father duly appreciated this knowledge of his son in mathematics and through this even began to show him some kind of favor. So, in the fourteenth year of his age, Fr. Macarius, straight from school, found himself in the most ebullient whirlpool of life, that is, he entered, as he puts it, “into a commercial circle,” hitherto an acquaintance only by hearsay. From a boy, he immediately turned into a young man, Mikhail Ivanovich, became his father’s “helper”, and for outsiders, the “master’s son” or even the real master. Such a transition seemed abrupt and extremely difficult for Mikhail Ivanovich. From his memory the memories of parental slaps and shouts, which were often given by his father, who rarely appeared in the family, during his childhood upbringing, had not yet been erased, and now every hour and every minute he had to be in front of his demanding and strict father. Therefore, in the early days of his commercial activities, Mikhail Ivanovich was “afraid of everything,” fearing for his every step, for his every careless word. Not being familiar with the quality of the goods and their prices on the stock exchange, he was afraid to ask his father about both, so as not to irritate him or offend him, and he did not want to turn to the clerks for explanations and information, since, out of youthful and, perhaps, natural ambition, in their eyes he tried to maintain his master's reputation, his authority, which, as it seemed to him, was already being undermined. “In goods, I tried more to find out the value myself,” writes Fr. Macarius in his diary, “but he was ashamed and afraid to ask.” Soon Mikhail Ivanovich had the opportunity to play the role of the real owner. In November 1836, Ivan Dionisievich and his wife went to Moscow for the wedding of his eldest son Vasily Ivanovich, who married himself a girl “educated, with a noble soul, but extremely preoccupied with herself” from the Gzheltsev family. Mikhail Ivanovich was left as the owner of the house. It would seem that now, outside his father’s eyes, he could live more freely and even for his own pleasure, but in fact it was not so. To the great chagrin of Mikhail Ivanovich, a blind paternal uncle, Kondraty Dionisievich, accidentally lived in his parents’ house at that time to heal his eyes, who, due to his painfully irritable character, “at every step he offended, shouted, got angry, without knowing why” at his nephew. The situation in the house of the modest and impressionable Mikhail Ivanovich seemed unbearably difficult for him, and he began to “lose spirit.” To this must be added, by the way, the fact that he was completely alone in the house and absolutely did not find a person to his liking, to whom he could confide the sorrows of his tender, kind heart, because the only person he liked, brother Ivan Ivanovich, with whom he “lived quite well,” left his parents’ home a year ago, and, mourned by him, went to Tula to help his grandfather. The mental anguish of the young man, impressionable to the point of morbidity, was killed in a completely unexpected and incomprehensible way for himself. “On December 18, 1836, the Winter Palace became a victim of flame. “I,” notes Fr. Macarius, “suffered no better for the loss of the king, without knowing why.” Among these severe mental torments, barely understandable in a boy of fourteen, his only entertainment was “reading spiritual books,” since, in his own words, his “thought spread more and more towards the spiritual.” While reading, the young man forgot about everyday worries and troubles that fell to his lot so early and to combat which he had neither life experience nor his own moral strength that had not yet been revealed. His thought hovered in an ideal world, where life with its vanity and sorrows was far beyond the strong monastic visors, where brotherly love and eternal grace-filled silence reign, where day and night people, like angels from the depths of their hearts, send up fervent prayers to their Creator... After these sweet dreams and daydreams, the life surrounding him, the gray reality with her constant everyday life, and involuntarily for himself “his thought was illuminated by an unearthly desire - to be the last slave of some monastery.” True, oh. Macarius notes about this youthful desire of his that it was “visibly sown on stone,” i.e. did not move into the realm of the real, did not immediately come true in practice, since “the sun - frequent visits from his uncle’s guests from the hospital and others - entertained him,” but in fact, it was perhaps this “unearthly desire” that planted in the soul of the future ascetic that spark of heavenly fire, which until then had only smoldered, but then, after a long time, in a way completely incomprehensible to him, suddenly flared up with a bright flame that engulfed his entire being and who raised a semi-conscious youthful desire from the bottom of his soul to such a height that he actually, in a very real way, undertook to fulfill his youthful dreams and, as his life showed, managed and managed to fulfill them. It was hard for Mikhail Ivanovich to live alone, but the return of his parents from Moscow to St. Petersburg promised him little joy. Upon arrival, my father immediately demanded an accurate account of all business transactions and carried out a strict audit of the cash register, in which he discovered, to the great chagrin of Mikhail Ivanovich, a deficiency of 290 rubles in banknotes. The blame for this fell entirely on the poor young man for his oversight. “My father scolded and offended me, and I grieved,” notes Fr. Macarius is in his diary because he considered himself completely innocent of this shortcoming. Somewhat later it was discovered that the culprit in this case was Uncle Kondraty Dionisievich, who, due to his blindness, often gave the servants instead of two kopecks in gold. For the next two years of his life, Fr. Macarius directly calls “the most unpleasant” on the occasion of those discords that took place in the house of Ivan Dionisievich between him and his brother Kondrat Dionisievich, together with his wife, a woman of a “gray character”, who brought the meek Feodosia Petrovna to positive “hysteria”. In 1840, on the occasion of a terrible fire due to arson by unknown attackers in Tula, which caused losses of 200 thousand in banknotes, Ivan Dionisievich left St. Petersburg and went to his father. The owner left Mikhail Ivanovich in the house for the second time. But after some skill and practical experience, this second debut in the role of a responsible owner turned out to be quite successful. Carrying out with all diligence the difficult “commission” assigned to him by his father, Mikhail Ivanovich “tried to earn the trust of foreigners and merchants” and upon his father’s return to St. Petersburg, he “passed all the affairs safely.” Celebrating his success in fulfilling the “commission” assigned to him by his father, Mikhail Ivanovich soon experienced several other happy days, which he did not fail to mention in his diary. On September 8, he “was honored to see the entry into St. Petersburg of our great future Queen Maria Alexandrovna - virtue was written on her face,” and then on December 6, “he was honored to be in the palace at the betrothal, to see the ceremonial entrance to the church, to venerate the right hand of St. John the Baptist and see in all the glory your King - the Father...". At the end of the fortieth year, Mikhail Ivanovich’s life in St. Petersburg ends, and from that time on he never saw our Neva capital. In the last days of December, he, although not without bitter tears and sorrows at parting with his parents, but with the consciousness that “without sorrow we do not become human,” left St. Petersburg and, together with his older brother Vasily Ivanovich, went through Moscow to Kazan, where the Sushkins purchased raw materials. Mikhail Ivanovich greets his arrival in Kazan on January 12, 1841 in his diary with the following interesting exclamation: “So a new life began for me, perhaps for the better!” But alas! Mikhail Ivanovich was cruelly mistaken in his expectations. Life in Kazan, if not worse than life in St. Petersburg, was at least no better than the latter. The character of brother Vasily Ivanovich was in many ways reminiscent of the character of his father, through whose harsh school he went through and from whom he managed to borrow a lot for his future activities, even if he was unsympathetic. In addition, Mikhail Ivanovich was far from sympathetic to his older brother 12. It is not surprising, therefore, that Kazan life seemed positively unbearable for Mikhail Ivanovich, since the same griefs and pleasures that he experienced in St. Petersburg were repeated, but with the difference that there it all came from his father, unquestioning obedience to whom he considered a sacred duty, and here the punisher was his own brother, only a few years older than him. It is not difficult to understand the difference in the internal state of mind in both positions. “My brother offended me at every step,” we read in the diary, “and even allowed me (i.e. offend) Alexander,” the nephew of uncle Mikhail Dionisevich, who came with them from Moscow. “In May,” it continues, “we moved to the drying plant. I lived there sadly. My brother entrusted me with accepting the leather and disassembling it, without showing me (i.e. how to do it). He punished me strictly for the smallest trifle. Finally, we made a mistake in the skin plan, but Alexander was truly mistaken, and the blame was placed on me. When we had guests, I served them and waited until (they) left.” In such a humiliated, downtrodden position, in the complete absence of “friends and acquaintances,” how could the “beautiful and commercial” city attract the unfortunate young man? Where could he look for a helping hand from anyone, so that the desired time to get out of it would come sooner? “I grieved,” writes the young sufferer, “and in grief I resorted to the common Comforter... At this time, while remodeling the cathedral in Kazan, they found a chapel where St. prayed. Gury and there is an image of the Savior not made by hands, painted by himself on the wall, and a bench that has all decayed. There, in my grief, I often went to pray and asked to get rid of Kazan.” His prayer was finally heard by the patron and educator of the entire Kazan Land, and “the desired hour of separation from Kazan for Mikhail Ivanovich came sooner than one might have expected. But, to his chagrin, this hour was not a liberation forever from new humiliations and insults from his “elders.” Showered “often with abuse” by his brother at the very “latest time”, before leaving Kazan, he had no idea that new trials and new sorrows awaited him ahead. On July 29, Mikhail Ivanovich said goodbye to the bitter memory of Kazan and, together with his brother, went to the Nizhny Novgorod fair, where, by the way, uncle Mikhail Dionisievich arrived from Moscow to conduct commercial transactions and supervise trade in general. The fair business was new for Mikhail Ivanovich, and therefore he often made mistakes. Helpful clerks brought “the slightest mistake” to the ears of the uncle, who, quite understandably, was “angry” with his nephew’s inexperienced young man and did not miss the opportunity to lecture him with abuse. Life at the fair for other merchant children was fun and noisy, but for Mikhail Ivanovich it was sad and even positively “boring.” After September 6, when fair life finally froze, Mikhail Ivanovich went with his uncle to Moscow, where “his life began,” according to his diary, “with great trouble. No one wanted to warn me, every mistake I made was obvious, I lived as a stranger to everyone.” Luckily for him, Uncle Joseph Dionisievich arrived in Moscow in October with the goal of getting himself a bride and somewhat eased the heart of the poor young man who was looking for love. Mikhail Ivanovich “took refuge in him” and his uncle did not push him away, but “caressed” him. “I’m everywhere,” notes Fr. Macarius, I went with him.” On December 7, Joseph Dionisievich was “formed (that is, blessed) by the widow Anastasia Ivanovna Krayushkina,” and in January the marriage took place. On this occasion, Mikhail Ivanovich met with his father, who came from St. Petersburg to Moscow deliberately for the wedding of his younger brother. Mikhail Ivanovich “was so happy about his father’s arrival that he went to the stagecoach office and met him there.” From Moscow, soon after the wedding, Mikhail Ivanovich was sent to Tula to his grandfather, where he spent his happy childhood. The unfortunate young man was very happy about this trip, since he had to see familiar places, among which he had grown up happily in ease and bliss, and also meet his beloved grandfather and even more beloved brother Ivan Ivanovich. In anticipation of these sweet pleasures for his heart, the young man enthusiastically raced on the postal service under his grandfather’s dear roof, but his dreams quickly crumbled to dust when, after the first meeting with his family, he was categorically told that the next morning he had to go with his brother Ivan Ivanovich to the fair in Lebedyan. Tired from the road, he silently listened to his grandfather’s order and the next morning was ready to leave, since contradicting his grandfather was not supposed to be according to the traditional order passed down from generation to generation in the Sushkin family, and besides, contradiction was not in the character of the modest Mikhail Ivanovich. Having finished the fair in Lebedyan and parted with his brother Ivan Ivanovich, who went to Kharkov on business, Mikhail Ivanovich directly went to another fair in Mikhailovskaya Stanitsa. This was in 1842. “The fair was a wonderful success,” and Mikhail Ivanovich was at the height of happiness from this first independent experience in the full sense of the word, which he himself calls in his diary “the first step in the commercial field.” Under the fresh impression of the brilliant success he experienced in trade, Mikhail Ivanovich left the Mikhailovskaya village for a new fair in Voronezh and led it directly alone without the supervision of his elders. Social life in such a large city, where local wealthy landowners spend the winter, where now, on the occasion of the fair, eminent merchants from different parts of Russia have gathered from different parts of Russia, in an agricultural and trading city, luckily it was just before Maslenitsa, was in full swing: balls, family evenings, masquerades, theaters and similar places of public pleasures opened their hospitable doors wide for those seeking pleasure. And the private family life of the townsfolk, due to the revival in the city and the influx of visiting guests, went beyond the usual framework of monotonous everyday life: picnics, home dance evenings, etc. were held everywhere. In view of such a temptation, a thirst for public pleasures awakens in the young 21-year-old with all the passion of his young, ebullient and enthusiastic nature, which has not yet known its charms and only in a vivid imagination who depicted these pleasures in the most attractive and charming form. The mere desire for young Sushkin to get acquainted with this life was enough for the hospitable doors of the family houses of the local merchants to open before him completely freely. “An elegantly dressed and simply written handsome man,” 13 well-bred, with decent manners, a lively and witty conversationalist, an excellent dancer, moreover, a member of the Sushkin family, well-known among the merchants, a millionaire groom - all this taken together recommended him in the most flattering way to the local society, still unknown to him. Mikhail Ivanovich was a dear and welcome guest wherever he appeared, and everyone considered it a special honor to receive him in their home. He “went out into society for the evenings; danced and invited me to his place.” In this child of pleasures, where everything flattered his natural pride, he lived for a whole month, completely forgetting about everything in the world. The present reality seemed to him a magical dream, from which, apparently, he did not want to awaken. But everything has an end in the world; the end came to his passion for secular pleasures, and it came in a way completely unexpected for him. It was a motley week, that is, the week before Maslenitsa. Mikhail Ivanovich went to dance at the club. Here, during the height of the dancing, he suddenly hears a voice half-familiar to him behind him: “Mikhail Ivanovich, is that you? Well, my brother, I didn’t expect this from you!” Mikhail Ivanovich interrupts the lively dance, bows to the lady and quickly turns in the direction where the exclamation came from. In front of him, as if from the ground, a dense figure of a Tula merchant very well known to him had risen, who stood at the side of the dance hall in a perplexed pose, with his arms outstretched, staring at him with his eyes open in surprise. The appearance of this merchant made such a depressing impression on Mikhail Ivanovich that he was completely at a loss and did not know what to say in response. From the elegant gentleman and lively conversationalist he was a few minutes ago, Mikhail Ivanovich turned into a real schoolboy caught at the scene of a crime. For Mikhail Ivanovich, just the sight of a familiar fellow countryman was enough for him to sober up, for the fog that had hitherto shrouded him to dissipate, and a formidable reality arose before him in the person of his strict father and grandfather and demanding uncles with endless abuse and all kinds of reproaches. With the speed of lightning, a thought flashed through his head: but now “can the elders find out about this?” Impressed by this thought and fearing for future responsibility, the discouraged Mikhail Ivanovich quickly disappeared into the crowd of lively visitors to the club and went home gloomily. But even at home, like a nightmare, he was tormented by the same persistent thought, “plunging him into despondency,” and he could not find peace. The Russian wide Maslenitsa has arrived, when the Russian person eats and drinks a lot and has fun as much as his heart desires; when the unbridledness of human passions, one might say, does not recognize any limit and is not only not restrained, but, as it were, even encouraged and approved by the precepts and customs of deep antiquity. Voronezh did not lag behind other cities of Mother Rus' the Great and had especially lively fun this time. Young Sushkin, during this general merriment, sat in his apartment, kept the strictest fast in food and drink, and unforgivingly attended all the services of the monastery of St. Mitrophania. “I,” notes Fr. Macarius in his diary - did not leave [the house] except the monastery of St. Mitrophania." With severe fasting and fervent prayer, he decided to calm his troubled conscience and relieve himself of its remorse. Such a drastic change in the lifestyle and behavior of young Sushkin could not help but draw the attention of all his acquaintances to him. The Tula merchant mentioned above - the cause of his real mental anguish - learned about this behavior of the young man, came to him personally and, after surprise and convictions such as that seven weeks of fasting were enough for repentance, and now it was time for “thorough” preparation for it, he left, saying: “Well, Mikhail Ivanovich! Well, really, I didn’t expect this from you.” On Saturday during cheese week, Mikhail Ivanovich “participated” in the Holy Mysteries and, having calmed his conscience by confessing to the priest, “left for Tula.” The end of 1842, the entire next year and until May 1844, Mikhail Ivanovich lived almost constantly in Tula and was under the same strict regime of “elders” in which his entire previous life had passed. “Grandfather was strict,” Fr. writes in his diary. Macarius - and my uncle is even stricter; I almost didn’t go out anywhere except Sunday for mass.” Occasionally, however, Mikhail Ivanovich left Tula for a short time and traveled “through the oxen where the bulls fed. Between the bulls and the house there was a lot to do, I almost couldn’t keep up. I didn’t have a faithful person to whom I could pass on what I had, because for me my uncle and aunt were definitely strangers,” and my brother Ivan Ivanovich was constantly on the move. “Finally,” writes Fr. Macarius in his diary,” the morning star shone for me, “I went to fairs and was in Lebedyan, Temnikov, Tambov, and then Ilinskaya in Romny. My heart was rested. In Romny I dressed decently, went to meetings and the theater. I had such a pleasant time and the fair was a success. From there, God vouchsafed me to be in Kyiv. I received the Holy Mysteries after living for five days. I was sad to leave Kiev, but I went to Poltava and Kharkov to buy wool at the fair... From Kharkov I went to Stary Oskol and Efremov, where I found an eighty-year-old grandfather. He and I, thank God, had a good time. I didn’t receive a single reprimand, thank God! From Efremov [went] to Lebedyan, from Lebedyan to the Uryupinskaya village. In the Uryupinskaya village, I lent the Ryl merchant Zhizhin 1,500 rubles in money, which [he] took away without saying anything. I was sad, I handed over the note, but did not receive the money. From the Uryupinskaya village I went to Kirsanov and Tambov, where my uncle Joseph Dionisievich was already there, from there we went with him to Tula. After staying there and having celebrated my cousin’s wedding, I left again with my uncle for Efremov, Lebedyan, Lipetsk, Kozlov and Morsha. In Morsha they gave me a job - pouring lard. At this time I was leaving for Mikhailovskaya Stanitsa, and there, too, hoping to get money from Zhizhin, I did not receive it. I wrote him a letter and asked him to send me money in his name, and I went to Morsha for bottling. All winter and all the time I lived decently. I had only two acquaintances at home - Medvedev and Demyanov. At this time, my father and mother arrived in Tula and I, having gotten off completely, was getting ready to go to Tula. To my greatest joy, Zhizhin sent the money, and I went home to the Saint with complete pleasure.” All subsequent pages of Fr.'s diary. Macarius, before going abroad, are filled with this kind of business remarks, of little or no interest to the reader. Therefore, without touching on details and omitting from the diary everything of little value for characterizing Fr. Macarius, we will make a quick sketch of his life in the world until the day of his departure to the east and will dwell in more detail only on outstanding facts. Starting from the middle of 1844 until 1850, Mikhail Ivanovich’s life changed for the better quite significantly. Moving from city to city, from fair to fair, buying wool, bristles, bulls or pouring lard, Mikhail Ivanovich was, as they say, his own master. In the commercial business, he had already acquired some skill and practical experience, and therefore kept his assistants under his control and in due obedience. There was no longer strict supervision from the “elders” over him, and he arranged his life according to his own discretion, without fear of reproaches, reprimands and big troubles. He tried to conduct trade “as cleanly as possible” so as not to “sully his honor,” which for a young man who was scrupulous in this regard was more valuable than anything in the world. With bills that were submitted to the “seniors” for no less than 750 or 900 thousand, he was always careful and accurate, so as not to arouse suspicion and displeasure on their part. When he was free from trading—only holiday evenings—he spent “merrily” in the houses of his acquaintances, who “received him everywhere as if they were their own.” Here Mikhail Ivanovich courted the girls, taking advantage of their attention and sympathy, danced enthusiastically, had lively conversations, etc. From time to time he did not shy away from the company of his peers and fellow traders, in whose circle champagne flowed like a river. After one of these courage, Mikhail Ivanovich caught a fever and was very ill. When he was in the Uryupinsk village in 1846, Mikhail Ivanovich had to be present there at the foundation of the church, as well as at the celebration on this occasion. “We had a pleasant time,” the diary says about this celebration. – There was Khomutov, chief of staff and Archbishop Ignatius of Donskoy. Here I reconciled my friends Veretennikov and Solodovnikov and, having drunk a lot of champagne, went out undressed (out into the yard), caught a severe cold and was sick with a fever.” During his frequent travels around Southern Russia, Mikhail Ivanovich often visited Kyiv and other places where there are either the relics of saints, or miraculous icons, or monasteries famous for their antiquity. As a truly religious person, Mikhail Ivanovich considered it his Christian duty to visit these places, pray in front of the shrine, and even be sure to reprimand him every time in Kyiv. Mikhail Ivanovich rarely returned to his family in Tula, living mostly outside the house. He certainly spent Easter there, as well as a time of family sorrows or family joys. So, for example, he came to Tula 1) on the occasion of the death of his grandfather Dionisy Osipovich in 1846, 2) when, according to the conviction of the local governor, the issue of opening the “firm of Denis Sushkin’s sons” was animatedly discussed between his uncles, 3) on the occasion of the marriage of his “kind” brother Ivan Ivanovich to the girl V.F. Chernikova in 1848, etc. Of the visits to Tula, Mikhail Ivanovich’s future fate was most strongly influenced by his arrival in 1845, in July, when his parents were already living in Tula. From the diary we only know that at that time he begged his brother Ivan Ivanovich to go to Ilyinskaya for him, and “he himself stayed at home with his grandfather and that his life was better because [that] his mother lived.” One might think that this improvement in life consisted in the fact that the “elders” stopped scolding and insulting him, but, as we know from other reliable sources, Mikhail Ivanovich himself means an improvement of a different and more pleasant quality for him. At this time, the closest and most intimate rapprochement took place between mother and son, which was then not interrupted in absentia until the end of both of their lives. Here, truly, one can say, the mother found herself a son, and in turn, the loving son found a tenderly loving, meek mother with a soul of angelic purity and an immaculate heart. The point of rapprochement was the rare commonality of religious beliefs of both and the remarkable similarity of their characters. Mikhail Ivanovich inherited a lot of his mother’s sympathetic character traits. The devout Feodosya Petrovna, not without maternal pride, looked at her handsome and smart son. Read in the Word of God and in soul-saving books, having visited many places in Russia, remarkable for their shrines, having learned a little about life in practice, Mikhail Ivanovich was for his religious mother, alien to the bustle of life and everything outside the home, a very pleasant and desirable interlocutor. His animated, lively speech had a most beneficial effect on Theodosya Petrovna’s kind heart, and in a very short time she managed to get to know and love Misha in a way that she had not known or loved him in her childhood years. The thought had already flashed through the mind of the happy, pious mother: “Perhaps she will wait for happiness and see one of her sons as a prayer book, a monk!” From this one cherished thought, the mother’s heart is filled with delight and her Misha becomes in her eyes even sweeter and more amiable and dearer to her heart... But the lively and impressionable young man quickly moves in his conversations from one subject to another. After stories about Kyiv shrines, “angel-like” Kyiv ascetics, etc., which moved the devout Feodosia Petrovna to the point of tenderness and tears, Mikhail Ivanovich is quickly transported by his thoughts about how quickly his moves were from one place to another, to Kharkov, Tambov, Voronezh, etc., and begins to tell a story about his entertainment, dancing, courting young ladies, etc., and poor Theodosya Petrovna’s tears quickly dry up, her heart contracts with fear for the integrity of his soul and body and instantly changes her previous thought to another, less sympathetic to her. “Whatever you say, it’s time to marry the guy. How long before sin? Carefully and lovingly, she inquires and learns the inner state of her son’s soul and, as if by chance, leads a conversation about how a young man should “protect himself from carnal passions before marriage.” ““When the bride and groom both marry virgins, the angels of God rejoice in heaven and fly invisibly over their wedding bed,” his mother told him, and these words made a deep impression on the young man, by his own admission to me,” writes K. Leontyev. And I thought,” he tells me with feeling, “that if I sin, I will not only bring upon myself the wrath of God, but I will also severely offend my mother, and it was even painful for me to even remember this.”14 And so, despite his captivating youth, external beauty, the company of women among whom he spent most of his time, a circle of comrades who were far from distinguished by purity of morals, and the constant contentment in monetary terms, Mikhail Ivanovich, under such with the convincing admonitions of his mother, he remained unharmed in the world and “strictly preserved his virginity,” and then later, in the rank of abbot, as everyone who knew the deceased knows, he became an eloquent and ardent preacher of virginal purity and marital chastity in our modern society. “And even his worldly youthful abstinence was especially valuable because,” adds K. Leontyev, “because, according to everyone’s testimony, he was handsome from his youth. It is much easier for someone to behave modestly, at whom no one particularly wants to look, but beauty is a great enemy to chastity. Can a young man, lively by nature, not feel that he is very handsome and that it is not at all difficult for him to please a woman? 15. An even closer rapprochement was established between mother and son after a joint trip to Kyiv in June 1847. After this trip, Mikhail Ivanovich became a positive favorite of his mother, whose influence on him from that time became especially noticeable. Mikhail Ivanovich had been to Kyiv more than once, and all the shrines were not news to him, but he had never taken away from his trip such a strong, such a diverse, deep and edifying impression as on this trip. The pious Theodosya Petrovna not only fervently prayed at the relics of the Kyiv saints, surveyed the remarkable shrines of the city, but also paid due and serious attention to those persons who stood before this shrine, to their lives and exploits. She visited all the confessors known among the monks, visited the hermits and asked each of them: “How can one be saved in the world? How should you live to please God? – etc. To her non-vain questions from the lips of the Pechersk elders, she heard in response a simple, uncomplicated, but loving speech, coming from the depths of her soul, which had already struggled a lot with passions, a speech that had a charming effect on her heart. The young man sat silently. With reverence and sacred delight, he listened to these speeches from afar and rejoiced that he was finally able to see face to face the life that he knew about only from books and which he passionately desired to see even at the age of 14. Mother and son 16 left these elders excited and for a long time shared with each other the impressions they had taken from these visits and conversations. At the same time, the devout Feodosya Petrovna did not miss the opportunity to talk with her son about that favorite subject on the topic that monastic life is angelic, that it is difficult for a person to be saved in the world, that worldly life is just vanity and a whole series of worries, that salvation is only possible here, in the monastery, where peace and silence and brotherly love reign. This animated and sincere speech of a loving and beloved mother deeply affected the impressionable soul of Mikhail Ivanovich, touched the most living sensitive strings of his heart and raised from the bottom his familiar long-standing secret desires, and only blooming youth, the charm of an unknown life still beckoning ahead with its enchanting charms prevented the young man from uttering the words that were on his tongue: “Mama, bless me to go.” to become a monk... The real rapprochement between his wife and son, as well as the influence exerted on his son by his mother, did not escape the keen eye of Ivan Dionisievich. As a commercial person in the full sense of the word, he did not at all want to lose the labor force he needed, which Mikhail Ivanovich had already become at the time described. As for monasticism, being in fact a son of the church and even, perhaps, a pious man, he did not have any particular favor for the monastic rank, and he did not even want to hear of one of his sons becoming a monk. That is why Ivan Dionisievich decided in his soul to put a limit to the indicated rapprochement between mother and son and alienate them from each other. According to the accepted custom, after touring the fairs, Mikhail Ivanovich in 1850 went home for the upcoming Easter to meet with his parents. Here, at the end of Easter, Ivan Dionisievich invited his son to think about getting married. This proposal took his son by surprise. He was embarrassed and “asked for a week” to think about it, since he did not have in mind any suitable bride for himself. It is impossible to say that Mikhail Ivanovich did not think about brides. “Well, I thought about brides,” admitted the late Fr. Makariy to K. Leontyev, - and there were very beautiful young ladies with whom I had to dance and I was not averse to dancing”; but, let us add, he did not think of dwelling on these young ladies with a more serious thought, since “the dream of monasticism,” according to the same K. Leontyev, “did not leave him in the midst of commercial troubles and all sorts of worldly entertainment” 17 . It is not surprising, therefore, that even after a week of reflection, he came to nothing in his decision, did not prepare any answer, and to his father’s secondary question, he directly “refused to marry for another year.” Perhaps a real refusal would not have been accepted as reasonable, but the time had come to go to the fair in Stary Oskol, and Mikhail Ivanovich, in the absence of another faithful person, had to go to his usual activities. Ivan Dionisievich, therefore, naturally could not insist on his proposal. But the trip to Stary Oskol unexpectedly resolved for Mikhail Ivanovich an irrevocably significant question in life, which he probably would not have resolved even after a year of reflection. By the time Mikhail Ivanovich arrived in Stary Oskol for the fair, a whole company of Mikhail Ivanovich’s peers had already formed from merchant sons, who all agreed to go to the East together to worship shrines, and some of them even directly with the goal of entering monasticism on Mount Athos. This company offered to go with them at the same time, so that it would be more fun, and young Sushkin, who, however, refused for the first time due to lack of leisure, or, as they say in the diary, “hesitations.” But later, after thinking privately at home, Mikhail Ivanovich decided that this opportunity and wonderful company should not be missed for a trip to the East, where he had secretly wanted to visit for a long time. Under the influence of this decision, before leaving Stary Oskol for Voronezh, he wrote a letter to his father, asking for his blessing for this trip. In the first letter, Ivan Dionisievich responded with a direct refusal to his son’s request, but in the second letter he invited his son to return to Tula. After the end of the fair in Voronezh, Mikhail Ivanovich went to his parents in Tula and on the third day, upon arriving home, he began to talk with his father about his planned trip to the East. The conversation between father and son did not last long, since Ivan Dionisievich was already convinced by his wife Feodosia Petrovna to agree, who, after her son’s first letter from Stary Oskol, took a very active part in the fate of her favorite and began to act in his interests, fully sympathizing with her son’s wishes and undoubtedly expecting good results from this trip in the sense of fulfilling her cherished dream. Ivan Dionisievich pointed out the inconvenience and damage in trade matters, the difficulty and distance of the journey, various kinds of hardships and possible dangers along the way, etc., and ended his speech with the exclamation: “It’s difficult, look!” The son further strengthened his request, and consent was given, but on the condition that he would not remain on Athos, but would certainly return home. Mikhail Ivanovich responded to his father’s warning with the assurance that he would carry out his advice and consider it his duty to fulfill this condition... The matter regarding the trip to the East was settled so easily and quickly, as Mikhail Ivanovich did not expect, who expected to meet in the person of his father a stubborn and strong opponent to his intention. Impressed by this permission received and the upcoming “voyage to holy places,” which he “ardently desired” and about which he had dreamed since early childhood, his heart overflowed with joy, and he, one might say, was at the height of happiness. From the 12th of June, he began to actively prepare for the upcoming long and difficult journey, “having,” as he puts it in his diary, “neither boredom nor sorrow, with a special warmth for departure as if to an ordinary place.” Efforts began to get passports straightened out - both for Mikhail Ivanovich himself and for Evgraf, “his beloved servant”, whom, to the greatest joy, Ivan Dionisievich let go with him as an uncle and servant on the road, taking on the expenses of the trip and assigning a double salary against the salary he received in the service as a clerk - for his wife, who remained in Thule. The mentioned Evgraf first served with the Sushkins as a bristle-maker. In 1846, Mikhail Ivanovich, going to Morsha after the death of his grandfather, took this Evgraf as a coachman and here he became somewhat acquainted with him. In 1847, in the same role, Evgraf traveled with Mikhail Ivanovich and his mother to Kyiv on a pilgrimage, and from there to Romny, where Evgraf, as “able to write,” on Mikhail Ivanovich’s instructions, “wrote invoices” and became even more close to him. In Tambov, Evgraf began to behave badly and be “lazy” in carrying out the assignments assigned to him, so Mikhail Ivanovich “wanted to drive him away.” “But I,” notes the diary, “felt sorry for him, because I loved him without understanding why. He “ coped with it, behaved wonderfully and was already improving the position of assistant clerk.” In 1850, just before his trip to the East, Evgraf accompanied Mikhail Ivanovich’s uncle Joseph Dionisievich on a trip to Korennaya Hermitage, who later praised his nephew for the fact that he “all the time showed himself to be both [in] behavior and [in] activity.” “I was glad,” Fr. notes, not without pleasure, about this. Macarius, “that the fruits I sown have grown.” It was to this Evgraf that Ivan Dionisievich now handed over his son in his arms with the order that he would obey him in everything, would protect him like the apple of his eye, and would not return home to Tula without him. By giving his son a “beloved” person as a companion, he wanted, among other things, to show him favor for his work in trade, and also saved him from possible accidents on the difficult and long journey ahead. The day July 30, appointed for the departure from Mikhail Ivanovich’s house, was just around the corner. In the hassle and bustle, no one noticed how the last days of his stay under his parents’ roof flew by. Mikhail Ivanovich himself spent his days preparing for the trip, and “sat whole nights” with the housekeeper Anna Vasilievna, who lived in the Sushkins’ house, “talking more about spiritual things and dreaming about the future.” A strange something was happening in Mikhail Ivanovich’s soul at this time. The closer the time approached for him to leave his parental home for the East, the more noticeably for him that “fiery desire” with which his heart burned before receiving Ivan Dionisevich’s consent was lost and weakened. Amid the universal attention with which all his relatives surrounded him in the house in the last days of his stay under his parents’ roof, Mikhail Ivanovich “was attracted to everything in the house,” everything was sweet and dear to him, it was hard for him to part with all this. Involuntarily his thoughts were transported there, to the East, to a distant and unfamiliar country, where he did not have a single familiar face, where everyone was strangers to him and he was a stranger to everyone; to a country where everything was different, not similar to what he was used to seeing around him every day: a different climate, a different way of life, different morals and customs, etc. Fear of all this unknown to him squeezed his heart and paralyzed his former “fiery desire” with doubt. “Can I really bear all this? What will meet me on the other side? - Mikhail Ivanovich involuntarily asked himself and could not give a positive answer to the questions that worried him. During this time, such moments came that if the priest had offered to stay, says Mikhail Ivanovich in his diary, I would have stayed. There was such a temptation - I don’t understand why.” But Ivan Dionisievich was accustomed to solving every matter after thinking and once and for all. The thought of asking his son again about his desire or unwillingness to go to the East no longer occurred to him, and the son was afraid to tell his father a whole series of his doubts and fears that worried him at that time, knowing well that next time it would not be so easy to get consent from his father for the trip. Therefore, doubts and fears were a matter of the inner state of Mikhail Ivanovich’s soul, and on his face in the house the most lively preparations for the planned and already decided trip were going on as usual. On the eve of leaving Tula, i.e. July 29, Mikhail Ivanovich held an all-night vigil, and on the very day of departure - a liturgy, a prayer service for those traveling and went to “ask for a blessing” from the Mother of God in front of her icon called “Bogolyubskaya,” which is especially revered in Tula. Fervent prayer strengthened the young traveler and the former anxious state of mind gave way again to his “fiery desire.” Returning home calm, happy and cheerful, he was not embarrassed when he saw that everyone around him was showing sadness about the upcoming separation. When the moment of the “last kiss” approached and the parents came with the “image of the Savior in a gilded frame” to bless their son, all the relatives sobbed loudly, only Mikhail Ivanovich remained imperturbably calm. “I don’t know what happened to me,” he writes in his diary, “I seemed to be driving 20 miles to the dacha without shedding a tear, while everyone else was crying.” At five o'clock the train left the city. Father, mother, uncle Kondraty Dionisievich and his wife, brother Ivan Ivanovich and his wife and many other relatives went to see off the traveler. Behind the outpost, Mikhail Ivanovich said goodbye to his father, “shedding a few tears” on both sides. Some relatives also said goodbye here, but mother and brother with their wife and cousin Maria Kondratyevna were escorted to Dedilov. Here there was a touching separation between son and mother. Mother and sister wept as they said goodbye to Mikhail Ivanovich, but the latter was not able to hold back the tears that were choking him and, in turn, cried bitterly. Having seated his mother in the carriage, he “returned several times to kiss them and say “I’m sorry,” God knows how long!” Between the brothers, who lived very “okay” from childhood until recently, the parting was rather cold. “We said goodbye to my brother,” the diary says, “coldly. I don’t know what this meant: either through the enemy’s envious eye, or through people, he completely changed towards me; Lately they haven’t even talked much, but apparently it’s God’s will. I grieved quite a bit about this, I even cried.” At two o'clock in the morning, the relatives “drove along the road to Tula,” and Mikhail Ivanovich went to Bogoroditsk. Much later, after Fr. Macarius became a monk, Vasily Ivanovich’s relationship with his brother changed radically. His father Macarius even called him an angel. “I bow to the ground to my dear brothers for the vessel,” writes Fr. Macarius to his mother, October 11, 1852. “I don’t know how to thank brother Vasily Ivanovich; he became like an angel of the Lord for me, and the Queen of Heaven will not leave him for consoling me, a sinner. Really, like a child now I am happy about every little thing, especially from you. This is a beautiful vessel, the first one in our monastery. Thank him, mother, for me.” Brothers Vasily Ivanovich and Pyotr Ivanovich visited, and even more than once, Fr. Macarius on Mount Athos for a meeting with him. Characteristics of K. Leontiev. - Citizen. 1889 No. 191. Citizen. 1839 No. 191. After a trip with his mother to Kyiv, Mikhail Ivanovich often visited this city later. The difference between these new visits and his previous ones before 1847, as can be seen from his diary, is that in addition to the communion of the Holy Mysteries, he now also talks “with the angelic Parthenius the schema-monk, the metropolitan’s confessor.” In addition, he deliberately then went to the Optina Hermitage and “had the pleasure of talking with Father Macarius, a wonderful old man, as well as with John the schema-monk, from whom he received blessings.” “They truly live like the angels of God!” - exclaims the enthusiastic pilgrim. Citizen. 1889 No. 191. You might be interested in: