Chapter 6

This name corresponds, basically, to the sanguistic temperament, with a bias toward the choleric. Nobility, openness of mood, ease of dealing with people are characteristic of this name; lightness, although not superficiality. Signs of the name also include warmth and kindness. In relation to women - courtesy, courtesy, turning without delay and internal emphasis into courtship, but, usually, due to courtesy, as something that is accepted, implied and expected: this is a readiness to quickly pay tribute, and it has an internal measure to remain within the limits of light flirting, which ends as readily as it begins. These relationships, like relationships with people in general, do not explode the inner life with the plow: if they cannot be described as sliding on the surface, then, perhaps, the most correct word would be “rolling”: so two contacting shafts conscientiously rotate each other, without experiencing suffering from this temporary contact, but also melancholy when the contact comes to an end. With a gear clutch, each wheel needs to rotate in rhythm with the other, or move away, so as not to be broken; and when the shafts slide, this correspondence of speeds may not exist: and each of the shafts is almost indifferent to how the one in contact with it rotates. This is about the life relationships of the Alexanders, but the same is about mental contacts. There is the same flexibility and readiness, as well as the same indifference, or rather the same refusal to allow thought to get under the skin. Alexandrov's mind is clear and sober, slightly ironic, quick and versatile. But this is a mind self-satisfied with its harmony, and it is afraid of questions that tear apart the depths and can, naturally, upset the established balance. Therefore, this is a rather broad mind, but self-protecting itself from the pathos of comprehensiveness - strong and fast, but without spiritual onslaught: rightly weighing a lot, but not bursting into the depths - not so much because it cannot, but because of self-protection from shocks. The nobility of this spiritual disposition, chivalry, is not a flash and impulse in it, but an inclination, formalized like a rule, and therefore easily takes on a somewhat artificial character. Then this nobility is programmatic and abstract, however, not as a mask of deceit, but rather as a sincerely valued role, which must be held on, partly, out of pride. The readiness to stand up for any truth is too formal, and the truth in general may be untruth for the Alexanders, in particular, in specific life. Some coldness of mind, for the sake of maintaining harmony, is compensated by affectation. This “in general” in character makes the name Alexander typical for great people, most characteristic of them, for “in general”, said in a full voice - and this is exactly how it is said in great things - becomes universal and truly human. The name Alexander wants to be a microcosm and, when it receives sufficient nutritious material for decoration, it becomes that: a genius. But this harmony and self-satisfaction of the name Alexander may not be for everyone; not having the strength to become even greater, with his structure, in addition to desire, he reaches for greatness. A baobab in a flower pot is still a baobab, albeit overgrown and frail; but if someone said that it would be better for him in these conditions to be only a radish, he probably would not be mistaken. However, his advice would be in vain. So Alexander is Alexander. But the “greatness” in small sizes, the “greatness” of ordinary Alexanders, comes from the dwarf trees of Japanese gardens. Alexandras usually have some subtle detachment from life. They have some of the finest, almost invisible hair roots cut off, but these roots are essential for nutrition; they go into the depths of life, into other worlds. Hence there is a certain bias towards abstract principles, constructing life according to schemes, rationalization, albeit in a very subtle and covert form: Alexander is distracted not by the will to rationalism, not by the heat of a self-affirming mind, but due to the lack of principles of life that test him and nourish him; his rationalism is not positive, but negative. Therefore, this subtle rationalism is devoid of offensive energy, fanaticism, passion, reveals a readiness for flexibility and compliance, is soft or, more precisely, elastic and convenient for everyday life. The very programmatic nature of the Alexandrovs, which was mentioned above, has its source in the absence of sufficiently close contact with the cosmos; Alexander does not see his deliberateness, because he does not have an influx from the outside, the existential viscosity of which would oppose his behavior according to schemes: he takes abstract schemes as a basis, again, not out of special love for them, but due to the lack of initial life impressions from the depths. And he evaluates his deliberateness not as insincerity, but as a vital remplissage 375 of the best kind - yes, from remplissages this is really the best outcome; in fact, if I do not have inspiration for action, but it is necessary to act, then deliberate nobility is preferable to the same ignobility. The great Alexander, being a microcosm, would have found in himself the sources of the desired solutions; little Alexander, also self-contained, must look for sources within himself, and the decision naturally comes from reason, schematic and abstract, but still harmonious, as much as a rational decision can be harmonious. In connection with that property for which there is no more suitable name than abstraction, although this name is not entirely successful, the name Alexander imparts legislation to the personality. Not by the will to power, but by his supra-vital and, partly, extra-vital structure, Alexander easily becomes the center of certain norms for those around him and sits, being seated or claiming to sit, on some tribune. This manifests Alexander’s self-isolation and self-sufficiency noted above: he is a monad without windows, or, more precisely, 376. On a large scale, this property of sufficiency is a condition of genius. In small ones - some kind of unadaptability to life, although in a more subtle sense than external success; The Aleksandrovs’ business and life are accompanied by success, even much above average, but it does not cancel the more subtle impression of some kind of unluckiness, or incompleteness. However, whether it is genius or life’s disorganization, both of them, as a property of the monad, lead to inner loneliness. Friends and beloved comrades, valuable interlocutors and willingly greeted guests, in relation to everyone and in general, the Alexandras cannot and do not want to become such, in particular, in relation to only one person: such uniqueness would demandingly invade their harmonious little world and would open windows that should be closed in it. The best friends that can exist, Alexandras, are not the best friends, precisely because they are not the essence of the fact that they, like round ones, roll towards everyone, not sticking into anyone with a sharp edge, but not catching on anyone either. Perhaps friendship, like cement, needs suffering, and where everything is smooth, there is no soil for unification that tears apart the monadic shells. The pleasantness of the Alexanders in general does not allow them to be completely close and completely open in particular: such closeness is always accompanied by a tragic sound, and tragedy and Dionysus are inseparable from each other. The Alexanders do not want Dionysus, as it is directly opposed to their already given integrity. Closeness to the end seems both shy and unfair to Alexander, and, moreover, affected. It is worthy of attention that the Alexanders recognize real affectation in the style of French tragedies when it is conscious, and they are afraid, like affected people, of the excesses of life when they are spontaneous - they are afraid of Greek tragedy. Due to their self-sufficiency, due to the monarchical nature of their nature, Alexandra can be very generous, generous and magnanimous; they can sacrifice their own without hesitation. But they are little inclined to sacrifice themselves, and this creates, when close to them, a barrier to very close communication and vice versa, hence their feeling of detachment, as well as with them. Lively and cheerful on the surface, inside they harbor a trickle of pessimism. Despite the successes, despite universal recognition, they are not satisfied: something important is still missing. But this pessimism of theirs is neither a theoretical conviction, which, on the contrary, is rather optimistic, nor an organic pain, but something secondary and derivative, although necessary: ​​an inseparable shadow of their self-sufficiency. As a result: Alexander is not the deepest name, but the most harmonious, the most internally proportional. The female name Alexandra, by its etymology and phonetically, begs to be compared with a similar male name. But upon examination, at least upon a superficial examination, nothing in common is seen between these two names, and Alexandra is not only not similar, but, perhaps, even the opposite of Alexander. A deeper penetration into the name Alexander forces us to recognize it as not being so alien to the corresponding male name, but, perhaps due to its homogeneity, manifesting itself differently from that. We then recognize in him the same name Alexander, but mutilated and crushed by a use that is not characteristic of it. If Alexander, the real Alexander, needs abundant nutrition and without it the personality easily grows up somewhat withered, then all the more does it wither and break down when characteristically masculine demands are made on feminine nature, so definitely masculine that in most cases masculine nature does not have the strength to respond to the call of this name. In this sense, Alexander would like to compare it with a mutilated Chinese leg or with a dwarf tree in Chinese gardens; the individual is given urges for such growth, which are posed by insurmountable obstacles to the natural conditions of his life, external and internal, natural to the given individual. The name Alexandra pushes her towards greatness in the direction in which her feminine, and, moreover, in most cases, limited and, like feminine, nature firmly holds her. It is natural to think about some kind of identity between the names Alexander and Alexandra. But it is also natural to assume that the name Alexander, complete and extremely harmonious in itself, as a man’s name, precisely because, being transformed into a female name, should give disharmony and be the messenger and strength of a personality that is decidedly not finding balance in itself. When the sign of a name encourages a woman to become the most proportionately built man in herself, then this, it is easy to foresee, tends to a tragic fate. It is not the tragedy of external disasters, not the blows of fate, not the whirlwinds of incoming misfortunes that are characteristic, as typical, of Alexandra. And all this, perhaps, perhaps even happens quite often; but the essence of the matter is not in the external attack on Alexandra by the hostile forces of the world, but in tragic guilt. Internal disharmony is the gunpowder of existence, and in it lies the seed of internal discord, and then, often, external discord. This does not mean that Alexandra rightly suffered for committing an offense against what was due. On the contrary, she gets involved in life’s conflicts precisely when she moves with special persistence towards what she considers her due. Her guilt is fatal, as arising from a certain ontological tactlessness, due to which Alexandra very rarely happens that “truth and truth kiss each other” 377, and if it does happen, it is precisely when Alexandra leaves herself to the flow of events. Alexandra strives for truth, and strives in a masculine spirit, much more than the bearers of many other names. But her truth comes out not according to the truth - inopportunely, out of place, abstractly, which is all the more dangerous since this rationality is driven by feminine passion. It is wrong to imagine Alexandra as masculine: she is feminine, but by some subconscious effort she transforms herself into an appearance of masculinity. Female instinct and female pressure are perverted here, taking on the appearance of reason and conscious will, but not actually becoming such at all, and in their essence remaining elemental and formless. The feminine truth does not want to be here by itself and approaches the masculine truth by instinct, and therefore is deprived of truth and becomes blind. Straightforward, deliberately rational, forcibly entering into the perfection of virtues, Alexandra is such in her phenomenality, in her harsh truth, while in the depths she is blind, insanely persistent. Female chaos, not seeing itself and not admitting to itself what it is. Meanwhile, pushed by blind will, Alexandra is persistent, stubborn, holding tightly to what she intended as a reasonable and proven goal. But this goal is present in her mind as reasonable, but is not reasonable, at least for Alexandra it is not reasonable, but is a projection of blind desire. The ultimate misfortune would not be that a person wants not rationally, but blindly; There is no final misfortune in a woman’s demand, not even in a woman’s whim. Perhaps, on the contrary, their illogicality, obvious and recognized, reveals something new, inaccessible to reason, and the feminine truth complements the masculine truth, and the very persistence of this truth, openly opposed to the truth, testifies to the reliability of the truth. But Alexandra unconsciously passes one thing off as another, and wants to hold on to the dubious truth as such through stubbornness, whereas it is some kind of lost truth. And then confusion begins, leading Alexandra to a collision with reality. This clash can be in both small and great things: in everyday relationships, in choosing your life path, in understanding the current conditions of life, etc.; but the essence of the collision and its mechanism are the same. It is, I repeat, that cold rationality and straightforwardness, driven by blind passion, want to pass themselves off as established from those principles to which in fact they have no relation. Psychologically, this internal discord is reflected in a lack of flexibility, rudeness, and unadaptability, in which, however, one should not see simply innate or bred character traits, but, to a much greater extent, proof of one’s own truth: “I am in truth, I have nothing to dissemble, if I am rude, I will show the pure truth without embellishment,” this is approximately how the imaginary necessity of Alexander’s deliberate rudeness motivates himself; “It is not proper for truth to flirt and flirt.” It seems to Alexandra that her rudeness and straightforwardness will make her superior to feminine characteristics and liken her to a man. When the false position in which Alexandra has placed herself makes itself felt by the beginning of a collision with life, Alexandra, well aware of the source of trouble and, perhaps, misfortune, not only does not try to remove or correct the false action, but, on the contrary, with particular persistence, emphasizes precisely on its sharp edge, cutting life; and she will do this not out of simple pride, but on principle, at the cost of inconvenience, threatening troubles, perhaps even death, sacrificially, strengthening herself and those around her in the name of truth. Alexandra has a presentiment of a catastrophe, big or small - now it doesn’t matter, maybe she’s even sure of it, but she is heading towards tragedy, she wants tragedy. Like Alexander, it is legislative, but certainly unsuccessful, because it only claims to be a microcosm. Like Alexander, Alexandra is noble, that is, she wants to be and thinks to be noble. But, if in Alexander, a man, nobility is somewhat deliberate, somewhat stagey, then even more so, all the more incomparably this applies to Alexandra. It is relatively easy for Alexander to be generous and not petty, since he, closed in himself, has few external desires and, due to his roundness, is not caught up in the world; on the contrary, Alexandra is neither self-closed nor round, and least of all it would be fair to say about the female name Alexandra that she has nothing to want outside of herself and that she does not want anything outside of herself. On the contrary, she is filled with desires that she does not admit to herself, and least of all can she be fair and impartial as a judge. It is cracked, cracked ontologically, and therefore psychologically and morally. This is natural for her internal and external dissatisfaction, the reason and, together, justification in her eyes for her conflict with life. And therefore, attached to life and, one might say, clinging to life, Alexandra easily goes to death, is capable of sacrificing herself to death, just as she is capable of ending her life. It is hardly an accident, and not a consequence of the same basic tragic guilt of Alexander, that they very often die in infancy, as if, from afar, stopping life, foreshadowing involuntary suffering. And this infant death is all the more significant because the name Alexandra is often given to children, especially those who are deeply cared for by their parents, as a sign of special attention to one of the tenderly, rather reverently, beloved Alexanders. Both in the sounds and in the relationships of the signs of the name Alexander there is balance and a certain standing - not necessarily stability, but the absence of urges to move due to self-isolation; there is some kind of geometric cubicity in this name. And, if Alexander does move, then this movement is determined by internal forces and therefore is expressed by a series of acts separate from each other, by climbing steps, in general by a step: Alexander walks, which is always accompanied by a corresponding knocking sound, a corresponding distinct and separate external manifestation of his movements. On the contrary, both in the sounds and in the properties of the name Alexey, and even more in the true church form of this name - Alexy, and, even more so, in the original Greek form of it - Αλέξιος, there is disequilibrium, therefore, instability, lack of standing and therefore - movement. But this movement is determined not from the inside, but from the outside, by external attraction, and, since it does not come from separate acts of self-determination, like a craving, it itself is not separate. Alexey does not have a step, but a glide. And the sound of its movement, accordingly, should be compared to a rustling sound, like the sound of dry leaves. Alexey's movement is not active, like Alexander's, but passive. If Alexei’s gravitating mass were great, then during his movement he would drag and, consequently, create a great disorder in the environment - he would crush everyone and everything that came in the way, rumble and creak. But its weight is not great, and therefore the pull of external forces or atmospheric breezes carry it away without much violence to the surroundings, and in continuous, albeit unexpectedly whimsical ways, it slides from one vital relationship and form of inner life to another. The sound of this sliding is higher than that of Alexander, although the latter does not have low bass registers, and stands almost on the border with the female sound. The names Alexander and Alexey manifest almost opposite signs and, nevertheless, are metaphysically very close to each other, moreover, Alexey is a certain softening or softening of the name Alexander, as a result of which the basic balance in it is disturbed: Alexander is a solid body, crystalline, while Alexey is doughy. Alexey is the same Alexander, but near the melting point. Alexander stands, Alexey falls, always falls, and there is not a single vertical line in him. In Alexei, the composition of the personality is close to that of Alexander, and the elements of the personality largely correspond to the elements of the personality of Alexander. But Alexander is characterized by a very precise definition of the horizon of consciousness, as a result of which the conscious and sub- and superconscious are in very precise correspondence with each other and thereby determine the balance and self-closure of this personality. In Alexey there is the same commensurate proportion of personality elements, in themselves, taken separately, but the totality of those that fall into the realm of consciousness is no longer proportional to the totality of the elements of the subconscious. By shifting the level of consciousness in Alexander, and precisely by raising this level significantly higher, we thereby obtain Alexey. In other words, the subconscious (including the superconscious) forms a deeper layer in Alexey than in Alexander, and the conscious is represented by a thinner layer than in the latter. Given the depth of the subconscious, Alexey, for the balance of his personality, would need a much greater degree of consciousness and intelligence than what he has and can have. If we were to imagine Alexey having acquired such consciousness and intelligence, but without changing the depth of his subconscious, then Alexey would cease to be Alexey and would become Alexander, but not an ordinary Alexander, but a great one, a genius. But the fact of the matter is that the structure of Alexei’s personality is such that any increase in consciousness in him leads to an accelerated, compared with the growth of consciousness, growth of the subconscious roots of the personality; Growing spiritually, Alexey becomes even more Alexey, but in the extreme, he strives for foolishness. From here it is clear: in Alexander the surrounding reality is perceived primarily through consciousness and therefore evokes a consciously self-determined reaction, which, therefore, is verbal, separate, and rational. On the contrary, the same external world acts on Alexey through the subconscious, and Alexey’s reaction is also subconscious, emotional, does not come from a single act, but, as it were, flows with a continuous current, emanates from him, indivisibly and irrationally. When Alexander’s degree of consciousness decreases, for example, due to illness, etc., he shifts somewhat towards Alexey, just as Alexey’s shift towards Alexander occurs with a temporary aggravation of consciousness. But for both, these shifts are only temporary deviations from their own inherent correlation of personality elements, and, having undergone a shift, both of them usually return to their own type. Comparative subtlety and lack of cohesion of consciousness is characteristic of Alexei. This is a loose consciousness that easily breaks apart and reveals what is underneath; I would like to compare it to loosely felted felt that comes apart easily. Such consciousness freely passes through itself the direct influence of external existence on the inner essence, and vice versa. Alexey comes into contact with the world with an almost discovered subconsciousness, and therefore, his attitude to the world is existential - in a good or bad sense - depends on the given person, but emotionally, spontaneously, mystical and little responsible. Genesis blows through Alexei, and he endures it; but what kind of being is different in different cases. Alexey seems to be deprived of a cover that separates him from the outside world, little united in himself, not a microcosm or a monad at all, in contrast to the self-isolated Alexander; Alexey is a curl of the world and for temporary, at least, stability, he is certainly thought of as leaning against something or someone, and without this external attachment to the place, he will certainly be carried away to who knows where, who knows what winds. There is something ontologically painful in it: inability to exist independently in the world - internal inadequacy and, easily possible, although not necessary, external. Ultimately - it is, as they say, foolishness. Alexey, in his extremely highest revelation, is a holy fool, or something like that; and even when, at a superficial glance, a given person has nothing to do with holy foolishness, a careful analysis will still reveal in such an Alexey some gaps in consciousness or looseness of consciousness, through which the direct movements of the subconscious ooze, i.e., the basic constitution of holy foolishness. In Alexei there is defenselessness, if not in a crude sense, then in a more internal sense. In this defenselessness and morbidity, foolishness-ugliness corresponds, to one degree or another, with signs of some kind of squalor: either a lisp, or a stutter, or spiny legs, or pallor, or dumbness, etc. The mind is subtle - understanding this word in both directions. In a positive sense, it is the ability of the mind to capture delicate, barely outlined shades - something that has not yet been formed is sensitivity to symbols, and therefore a tendency towards symbolism. For such a mind, which is only conscious on the surface, developing its main activity subconsciously, and, moreover, emotionally, every word, every image, every judgment is colored by allegory, and therefore such a mind is characterized by the desire to be allegorical. But he is subtle and in another sense - he is not strong, he has little self-control, he does not control himself, therefore, he does not know how and does not want to express himself in coherent and open creativity; it gives more sparkles, individual stars, self-sufficient penetrations, rather than a long-lasting radiance, or at least a powerful flash. This is a capricious and whimsical mind, sometimes insightful, sometimes refusing to act and medium-sharp. Its manifestations are poorly coordinated with each other, and if each separately, as emotional, even saturated with emotion, in itself sounds very convincing and captivating with its spontaneity, then, taken together, they destroy each other, because they are neither antinomic nor consistent, but simply speak about different things or in different ways. Usually, during a certain period of life impressions, Alexei expresses a series of homogeneous, although not reduced to unity, judgments or, rather, exclamations; but he also disdainfully and irritably, although in the same tone of utmost spontaneity and inner persuasiveness, sweeps away and tramples all the previous ones. It’s good with Alexey now - and be happy with that: don’t expect that it will be good in the future on the same basis of communication. On the contrary, after some time, Alexey may hate you, as a reminder of the past, his own past, and he will hate you - also only for a while with a thin, ringing at the very top, almost at the border of hearing, notes, a hatred that is powerless in the severity of its disgust. In you, he will hate himself, the coherence of his own existence, for Alexey is an impressionist by nature, and an instant Impression takes possession of him completely, only to be completely rejected for the same amount of time. And then, with a new streak of impressions, he can again return to the old ones, approaching them in a new way, and things can become good with him again. If this impressionism were not so emotional and so instantaneous, then from this changeability dangerous and destructive passions could arise, crushing everything around like hammer blows. But it is precisely the instantaneousness of these impressions and their mutual conflict, not generalized in the mind, that does not allow them to take root in the will, and therefore Alexey remains relatively quiet and inactive in the outside world. His will does not keep up with the impressions of his feelings, and through the mind, accumulating and generalizing in him, they cannot act according to their mutual struggle. Hence Alexey's helplessness, although in the sense of the elementary structure of life Alexey can adapt; Despite his helplessness, and perhaps precisely because of it, Alexei is characterized by cunning, not cunning, but, namely, cunning in the mind. Alexey is a cunning man. It is not for the worse, or not for the greater harm, but, rather, is a means of self-defense, a kind of mimicry: Alexey pretends to be Alexey more than he is Alexey, and hence his craving for foolishness. If he is reputed to be stupid, then he will show more stupidity than he really is, laughing in his heart that with this mask he deceived those who wanted to take advantage of his helplessness. If he stutters, then in other cases he will pretend to stutter more than he really does, when he needs to hide absent-mindedness or ignorance. Alexey is simple and rustic; but, in addition, he forgives himself for simplicity, cultivates in himself the subtlety and looseness of the mind, both seeing in it the refinement of the spirit, and instinctively masking his helplessness. But this does not mean that Alexey does not understand his “simplicity” and the attitude of those around him: he suffers. Alexey is a man with wounded pride, which is all the more painful because his main mental ability is feeling. But he is not proud, and therefore, this wounding does not mentally decompose him: he carries a thorn in his heart and, by constantly reminding himself of it, he humbles himself. There is humility in Alexey - this is his spiritual appearance, which may not be expressed, since this Alexey has not yet taken shape. But besides, in addition to humility, Alexey is also on the path of humility. However, genuine humility, already given or taken upon oneself, is the path of Alexei. Alexei’s characteristic foolishness, the mask, is, at the same time, a kind of protecting himself from responsibility, declaring himself beyond responsibility. Therefore, this mask often prevents Alexey from holding on properly. Relying on his disguise, he, like all masked people, is inclined to allow himself things that he would not dare to do without a mask, and believes that he, having declared his irresponsibility, should be allowed to do what is prohibited to others. Then Alexey allows himself - exactly, allows, and not just being like this - rudeness, harshness, sometimes, if the mask he takes is rudeness, some kind of servility, vulgarity. Alexey is spontaneous. But its spontaneity is also exaggeratedly shown by a mask of spontaneity, a mask of simplicity, a mask of a non-intellectual structure of inner life. This mask is a way to restore relations with the world, an internal lack of something - broken in Alexey. While making life possible, this mask cannot, however, completely compensate for the natural inferiority of the Alekseevs, and they, living in the world, are still not adapted: there is something “wrong” with them; and therefore, they inevitably strive for their upper limit, foolishness. Although not in the crude form of a mask, but in the thinnest veil of spiritual isolation, incomprehensible to everyone and invisible to the majority, they try to artificially create for themselves a shell that is not given to them by nature, and to separate themselves and hide themselves from the world. Just as Alexandra is a female parallel to Alexander, so the male name Alexey corresponds in the metaphysics of female names - Anna. But precisely because of this pairing of these names, their manifestation in male and female environments - very different - turns out to be very different, partly even to the point of opposition. Regarding Alexandra, this has already been said. Something similar can now be revealed in the name of Anna, although not to the same extent of the opposite. As the name Alexander, which is extremely harmonious in the male element, when applied to the female element, it should be especially disharmonious. On the contrary, the name Alexey contributes little to the manifestation of masculinity, at least in the world, among worldly conditions and tasks of life, and is most fully expressed when renouncing the world, that is, when there is an ascent above the psychology of gender and, therefore, a natural approach to the area that is also characteristic of femininity. Therefore, it is also natural to expect that the corresponding female name Anna is more adapted to life, as more appropriate to the elements of her gender. But one must also foresee that in this name there is a basic discrepancy between the subconscious basis of the personality and the layer of consciousness inherent in the male counterpart of this name. But this discrepancy, as more characteristic of female nature, no longer slows down, or slows down to the same extent, the vitality of the bearer of the name in question. The main thing about Anna is her subconscious soil, which lies, most often, not on a rock, but on such subsoil layers with which the bearer of this name goes into the depths of existence. And these depths, according to the highest purpose of the name, are the depths of grace, as the etymological meaning of the name says. When the highest plane is not achieved by a person, he receives an influx of grace-filled forces through the elemental basis of nature, therefore, he can absorb, together, these elemental-mystical energies, and, perhaps, mix them, the conductors of grace, with grace itself. On the lower planes, finally, these elemental mystical principles, the soul of the world, are finally assimilated, but always in the color of grace, that is, under this form of perception. To Anna, the elemental never appears as merely elemental, for it is always mystical. Existential energies do not appear in Anna’s consciousness divorced from their deepest foundations, superficially and self-sufficiently, and therefore are never assessed according to the positive. As indicated, the reason for this is the inseparability of the lower layers of the subconscious from the world environment: Anna has a direct connection with the subsurface waters, and any fluctuation in their level and change in their composition affects her, in her sense of self. In this sense, one might even say that Anna, from the subconscious side, does not have a specific form and merges with the world soul. That is why Anna is predetermined to have a bias: either towards spiritual cutting off from herself, that is, from the conscious personality, everything subconscious, including her own, as not her own, or - binding to herself, as her personal property, the entire life of the world soul. But it is easy to see that both equally lead to detachment from everything that is inherent in the subconscious, or it has a peculiar coloring of sensuality, only insofar as it is limited by the boundaries of the personality, tied to it, opposed to other being and, therefore, is understood as self-interested, dividing and impenetrable. There is essentially no subjectivity in Anna's subconscious. Anna doesn’t want anything for herself. She is not passionate; rather, on the contrary, she falls away from the world, that is, her soul does not belong to it, having no clues about the world in her consciousness. That elemental thing that she feels, in her assessment, is felt in her as objective, even external, given to her, unless she has transferred her Self into the world soul, but then all the more so all her subconscious, as of a cosmic scale, is not assessed by her from the angle of petty and self-interested individual attraction. Then her internal movements acquire global scope and universal significance: she looks at her own, that is, her individual needs and desires from such a distance that they cannot help but seem small and insignificant. One way or another, the I, the small I of Anna, i.e. the conscious layer of the personality, turns out to be a separate subconscious, and therefore her personality, richer than many others, is assessed by herself, and often by many others, as poor, even when this wealth of the personality, rightly or wrongly, makes its way into creativity that is already obvious and indisputable, and even when Anna herself evaluates it highly, and in the case of mixing the blessed with the elemental, extremely highly. Still, she attaches little value to herself, to the conscious Self, because she transfers this creativity of hers into objective being and considers it - as a gift, as a revelation, as a self-manifestation of that objective being - not as her own initiative. And, therefore, this creativity, even it, does not enrich herself in her eyes. It cannot be said that Anna’s intelligence was not sharp; on the contrary, he has this sharpness. But whatever it may be in itself, it is significantly superior in development to deeper forces rooted in the subconscious. The mind cannot keep up with them, and perhaps does not want to tire itself out with the constant need for some kind of haste; and therefore he treats the intuitive depth of the personality passively, allowing it to carry him along with it. Therefore, he does not receive systematic growth at all and does not acquire the habit of conscious and independent work. Such a mind, perhaps due to little need, tends to descend and unravel; this is ignava ratio 378: it is natural for him to become naive, at least until he receives an external shock that will force Anna to come to her senses and overcome her inactivity. Therefore, Anna’s work is not of an intellectual nature; where the intervention of the intellect is required, at least during processing, this creativity has weak points. Anna does not like intellectual work, willingly runs away from it and, although she refers to her inability, in fact she does not trust it significantly: the intervention of the intellect, as it all seems to her, will distort the “pure experience” of her intuition, and therefore the plan, style, even the position of signs seem to her to be something secondary, invented, insincere. Having knowledge not from reason and sated with her knowledge, she neglects the intellect, her intellect. On the other hand, the depths of nature are too directly open to it to have a need and urgent need for art, the main function of which is to remove the positivistic veils from being and help in direct contact with its depths. What art gives is, in a sense, much deeper and more fully known to Anna than can be obtained through art; and, in addition, the use of art requires the development of conscious self-activity, self-education, which Anna avoids not only because she does not want to be active, but also because self-education seems artificial to her. Art is alien to her. Particularly alien is that branch of it that presupposes the greatest preliminary independence, and has in mind the most ugly and mystical touch on being: music. Anna already has as much of what music could give, and without difficulty. Consequently, the moral area is what primarily occupies Anna’s consciousness, that is, exactly what is not in her perceptions from the depths. The name Vasily etymologically means royal, royal. If the main feature of royalty is not greatness or dignity, which can be inherent in the most diverse moral and social states, but the ability necessary for a king to embrace a broad horizon from a certain height and consciously conduct systematic activity in the area covered, then, indeed, royalty, so understood, is an essential feature of Vasily. His intellect quickly grasps the relationship of things, people and events, and does not get lost in the complexity of life's relationships. Everything that exists is weighed by him and finds a place for itself, although not in an abstract system. But of all that exists, the true subject of attention is primarily the task of culture, and not metaphysics or natural science in themselves. And this occupies Vasily, but, in fact, in relation to culture. It is not abstract and passively stored knowledge that attracts Vasily, but one that he can put into circulation in culture and organize people on its basis. Organization and organizational ability are dear to Vasily; but not that organization that serves the external one-time achievement of a set goal, therefore - not politics and not tactics in themselves, but an organization in the internal sense, in which there may be both politics and tactics, but as subordinate aspects. Vasily wants to achieve some internally worthy, broad-based goal, the predisposition of which he saw in a certain society. But, having set a goal for himself, Vasily knows what he wants and persistently strives for it, like flowing water seeking the lowest position, easily finding for himself those paths and passages, whether they are straight or winding, by which he will achieve the goal. Well versed in the complexity of life's weaves, Vasily's mind is not a school-like, abstract mind, acting from abstract rules and principles; very conscious at its heights, it very gradually turns into intuition, guessing, instinct, even cunning, and therefore is able to act flexibly and adaptably. What he needs is not the self-satisfaction of a straight line, not self-satisfaction, school complacency with the purity of work, but the achievement of a goal; he doesn’t care how correct his paths seem to be if they are written down and assessed normatively: he considers them on their merits, how expedient they are, but he wants to understand this expediency not as a momentary and partial success, not as an isolated achievement, but as a link in a whole series of achievements, a broad-based activity. In view of this latter, such actions (insofar as this Vasily has any significance) are far from intrigue and intrigue: they are not accidental and not personal. Even when it is difficult to agree with the general nature of Vasily’s activity, it is sometimes impossible to deny the internal coherence and more than just a personal calculation of this activity. It is not smooth, it lacks transparency and pure ringing; but she is not petty and, not having her head in the clouds, does not bury herself in the ground. The very clumsiness of her and the tortuousness of her paths give a feeling of adaptability to life, efficiency, and, with higher achievements, wisdom. Without asking himself what is impossible, Vasily walks slowly, but without losing what he has achieved, without breakdowns; if he retreats, then this is not an accidental evasion, and not confusion, but a bypass of the obstacle encountered: Vasily needs to leave it behind him, but he does not at all see the indispensable need to move it at all costs. And he moves forward, realizing and consolidating some higher task, which from that time on becomes forever the property of culture. This ability for purposeful activity is largely determined in Vasily by the direct connection of his will with his mind: the mind passes into the volitional principle, as if sprouting from it, and emotions are not so much absent or poorly developed, but they do not stand between the mind and the will, but are pushed aside and therefore, with a general great activity of character, they themselves remain passive, perceiving from afar the life and the action in it of the person to whom they belong, and therefore, as it were, fatalistic. Vasily shares his activity within himself, so that the organizing mind with which he acts in the world and which, according to his own consciousness, is his position in the world, as it were, the royal rank, and his feelings, his own personally and for himself, the tenderness, melancholy and subjective subtlety of them should not be reflected in the manifestation of the personality outside, on the expedient course of all activity. Active and directing events outside of his own feelings, Vasily thinks little about activities within the confines of his personal life, and his most hidden internal movements seem to him incarnate, inexpressible and therefore extra-vital. With the ability and ability to find a place for everything, with the relative ease of success in achieving his goals, Vasily does not find a place for his innermost self and is not successful in this; but not because his attempts in this direction failed, but because he internally resists the very idea of ​​\u200b\u200bthe possibility of expressing and embodying this inner. In advance, and without further reason, Vasily shows resignation. This inner one is thus hidden in the depths of the soul, and Vasily hides his most tender feelings from himself, in the blue, deep darkness of intimate depression. Vasily – blue. He puts on a blue mask of severity and rigidity, trying to hide himself from himself with ponderous monumentality, sometimes even cruelty. The thorns of this severity are directed, however, no less inward than outward; they prick when pressed on the outside world and the prick itself. But these sufferings are once and for all recognized as fate and the possibility of eliminating them does not occur to them. On the contrary, he is convinced by them of the incommensurability of the internal and external. As a consequence of such consciousness, gloominess can easily develop in Vasily, a gloomy feeling of the doom of everything cherished and complete fatalistic inaction in relation to the dear. Suspicion is one of the traits that can develop in Vasily. In connection with it, and due to his basic inclination to cover a wide range of phenomena with his horizons and consider himself responsible for it, it seems necessary for Vasily to look and keep an eye on the entire range of phenomena so that nothing escapes his gaze: symbolically, this inclination towards world power is imprinted by Vasily’s frequent squint. Closed in on himself in the most hidden, and forced, by virtue of his organizing activity, to be, as it were, very open, to deal courteously with many different people, necessary everywhere, but, in essence, nowhere finding a real refuge for himself, Vasily wants, at least artificially, to renounce his organizing thought, to remain without care and to break through himself. Vasily does not open up calmly and naturally in such cases, but rather hard, so that even a little costs him a lot. To do this, he needs to be abruptly thrown out of ordinary living conditions and receive a push of artificial excitement. It can be due to various reasons; but most of all, Vasily has a penchant for wine, but this is not simply a penchant for fun, even artificial, or a search for taste sensations; Vasily wants to become intoxicated, seeks an extraordinary shake-up and, at the end of oblivion, so that he can, without thinking about the inexpressibility of the inexpressible, still express it, putting aside the thought of the possible and necessary, and then completely putting aside all thought and consciousness, and with this pause of world control, reliably separate this special moment from all others, from all active life. At this moment, Vasily made an attempt to prove himself, but he left the objective world: he takes a break from his affairs and then they do not exist, they should not exist for him. But in business, and in rest, and in the construction of life, and in self-care, Vasily is not guided by outwardly and formally set standards. He can be cruel, even breaking norms, in the name of his goal; but he can also be immensely generous when this generosity can be shown by a single act of will, a single wave, and at the same time, he will even less take into account any norms and requirements of law, or even morality. This says a lot, because, as an organizer, administrator, builder of life, Vasily cannot simply take norms lightly, imposing and implementing them himself. But, when it is really necessary, he is able to autocratically abolish this time, this single time, the norm and implement what is now exactly required, even if it is in complete contradiction with the formally and literally understood rule of everyday life. He knows how to do this with authority, without staining his conscience and without being internally forced, as a result of such a retreat, to further violations of the same rule, as happens with a simple fall. I repeat, he abolishes with authority what is obligatory for others and, if he has already abolished, then actively, and therefore does not suffer from such abolition. And in relation to himself: when he retires from business, he leaves as if he had decided that it was necessary, and therefore not thievishly and not secretly from himself. But this does not mean that Vasily is not capable of sin. Of course not. However, his sin is not committed by chance and unexpectedly for himself, but, somehow, systematically: this sin does not “happen” as an accident, does not unexpectedly invade a number of other actions, but, firmly and logically connected with other actions, deigns as a natural consequence, as a necessity, as an irrevocable link on the accepted path, and therefore - in its own way reasonable and organized. The name Sophia is the feminine aspect of the male name Vasily, but not in the sense of the manifestation of the male name in the female personality, but as a phenomenon parallel to this latter and independent of it. Sofia’s attitude towards Vasily is not at all like Alexandra’s attitude towards Alexander, but rather, for example, like Anna’s attitude towards Alexei. Sophia is not a male norm realized by a woman, but an independent female norm, analogous to the corresponding male one. If you like, this feminine norm takes precedence over the masculine one, and Sophia can be recognized as a type that more definitely expresses a certain spiritual appearance than Vasily. Etymologically, σοφία is by no means wisdom in the modern sense of the word, as being filled with pure contemplation and theoretical knowledge. If we were to ask ourselves how to translate the word σοφία into our modern language, then it would be most correct to say art, in the sense of creative ability, the embodiment of an ideal plan in a concrete world, and in Church Slavonic - cunning. In other words, etymologically, the name Sophia is close to the content that was recognized above as the spiritual structure of Vasily. But in the name Vasily there is, in fact, less creativity and more organizational activity than is indicated by the etymology of the name Sofia. This latter means, that is, by its etymology, a more direct impact on the world than is characteristic of Vasily, who is more intellectual and therefore more mediated in his activities. Vasily’s activity is more accessible to the mind - and therefore seems closer, in fact, human, than the spiritual energy that the word σοφία indicates with its root - the energy of higher planes of existence, more creative and less accessible to abstract analysis. But this etymology of Sophia is not only an etymology, but also the very metaphysical appearance of the name in question. Sofia is more divine than Vasily. However, it is understandable that female activity, as more intuitive, coming more from the depths, less conscious and less dissected - activity that, by the nature of the female personality itself, can, in its general character, be closer to the creativity of spiritual power in nature. Moreover, women's activity to a significant extent, more significantly than men's, is the activity not of the woman herself, but of other forces in a woman. Therefore, the greater similarity and affinity of this female activity with the creation of the world soul and its deepest spiritual focus in the creative Wisdom of God, the Virgin Sophia, is understandable. But, being intuitive, Sophia has her intellect (weak or strong - different in different cases) as a service organ of the spirit and therefore does not experience acute conflicts between intuition and reason. Her mind, which has no desire for autonomy, does not tempt her towards rationalism and always maintains, to one degree or another, fidelity to the true impressions of life. Intuition, which always has with it the organ of its self-dismemberment and self-expression, is not inclined to tear apart consciousness, as sub- or super-conscious. Before manifesting itself, the subconscious gradually ascends through the forms of the mind, filtering and balancing within them. Therefore, the very concept of antinomy is little accessible to Sophia; in her consciousness she deals with the products of processing perceptions, but not with raw perceptions. She knows intuition as a special taste of consciousness, but does not know the subconscious and superconscious. Sophia has sensitivity and, resulting from this, tact in life, but prophetic breakthroughs from the subconscious, like the cry of other worlds about themselves, do not reach her: her internal structure is too coherent to let in such uncoordinated and unforeseen revelations. Sofia is too stable in herself to be things. She does not remain - neither in a bad nor in a good sense - defenseless before reality and to any influence from the outside, an expedient and clear reaction will not be slow to follow, determined by the essence of the matter and, at the same time, characteristic of Sophia’s personality. And if, despite the self-protection of the spiritual organism characteristic of Sophia, another world would still take him by surprise and burst into him, then such a surprise would extremely confuse and frighten Sophia: Sophia was accustomed to living, protected from surprises in a reliably built fence from the outside world, among, albeit modest, but, according to a routine, going on from day to day, spiritual economy. She has a will to orderliness and a centripetal spirit, due to which she tends to focus on what is closest to her, organized and structured, that is, on the coherence of her own activity, or, also, on the harmony of her own personality. Internally proportional in its activities, it tends to see in it a certain general criterion. Sofia is self-sufficient, she lives without accepting the thought of the incommensurability of her own comfort with the world as a whole. The tragic, as a category, is not only alien, but also hostile to her, is pushed out of her consciousness, and when she encounters the tragic in life, she experiences it, although in deep sorrow, but without the sweetness of the feeling of the infinite, i.e., as not tragic. Therefore, despite the breadth of her horizons and the fidelity and firmness of her mind, Sophia does not understand the Dionysian element and substitutes another concept for the concept of it - about what is insufficient, in its own way, imperfect, perverted, but, nevertheless, reasonable and normative: ugliness for her is only ugliness and is devoid of its qualitative characteristics. Before Sophia’s spiritual gaze is what is correct, proportionate, and within boundaries and boundaries. Infinity, terrible, stunning, catastrophically sweeping away any established order, does not reach Sophia’s consciousness in its unique and incomparable greatness: Sophia does not recognize and does not understand the primordial darkness, Tyutchev’s night, and therefore, herself aspiring and embodying, she remains spiritually alien to the noumenal basis of being - ousia. Here there is a certain contradiction between Sophia’s activity and her consciousness: Sophia descends from the transparent and harmonious sky of norms to the viscous and intense earth in its power; Sophia does not want to remain in pure and inactive contemplation; she wills to descend to creation and organization. But, at the same time, she does not know within herself that dark, blissfully dark and creatively abundant darkness into which she descends, and therefore does not understand outside herself. A real impulse, the whole meaning of which is only in its essential immensity, seems to Sophia only a disorder, and she would like, without completely denying it, to make it more moderate; and - beyond her understanding, that this would mean decisively destroying him, by his very essence. Broad-minded in her outlook, Sophia will not take measures to eradicate the Dionysian, perhaps because natural tact makes her feel in advance the failure of such attempts. But he will not be able, and also will not want, to recognize his own truth of the Dionysian dissolution; he will not reconcile with the Dionysian, but will only tolerate it, partly with contempt, partly with arrogance. Coming to the ugly earth from the kingdom of images, Sophia recognizes herself as carrying a mission and therefore enters the world not as a member of the world whole, not as a link of mutual responsibility and strong connection between the creatures of the world, but in a world-organizing, legislative way (the first applies mainly to Sophia, and the second to Vasily), in a word - as power. Her condescension towards the world is not rooted in recognition of the truth of the world and not in the consciousness of her common weakness with the world, but in separating herself from the world and opposing herself as power, as the source of the world order, to a world that has sunk into the depths and therefore, naturally, in her judgment, thinks about the world below. In Sophia there is no spiritual pride, in the sense of declaring herself to be the first in that heavenly region; and there is no love of power in Sophia, no desire for her own sake, for her own sake, to subjugate others. But Sophia, from the consciousness of her unearthly destiny, which she mistakenly considers obviously the most excellent, and does not allow the thought that the ugly night is also from God and can be closer to God - Sophia is powerful and believes that power by nature, by the make-up of her personality, of course, should belong to her. Sofia takes power as her own and does it with an unblemished conscience, because her hand will never waver from doubt whether it is right. And she cannot waver, since Sophia takes power, and others do not interfere with her, as long as this is done in the name of truth and good - the only truth and the only good known to Sophia. Sophia has an innate sense of herself as superior to those around her by nature - not by her personal merits, but by her very birth. This can probably be compared with the self-awareness of crowned heads, who can think very modestly about themselves, be aware of their shortcomings, be easy to handle and helpful, and, however, feel separated from other people and by a special kind of natural power. This self-awareness of Sophia as power is so alive and bright in her that any non-recognition of her power by those around her causes an internal protest, but not because of hurt pride or unsatisfied vanity, but as some kind of untruth, as a distortion of the proper order. Hence the impression of pride that Sophia often makes on those who are not thoughtful enough, although this is not pride, but something else, much deeper. Sophia is managerial, orderly, has the ability to live and organize life, into this ordering of life she brings both art and science, which she is busy with and for which she is capable, but precisely to the extent of their applicability in the general structure of life, as means, and not as cultural ends in themselves, and therefore it seems to her to be implied that disobedience to her authority is not disobedience to her, but to what is right and proper. And Vasily is not inclined to use direct violence, preferring to achieve the norms he affirms with a more complex system of inclinations, beliefs and attractions. As a woman, and as a creature of a plane more distant from the earth, where everything is connected by an attraction to a goal, and not by the push of a reason, Sophia is to a much greater extent than Vasily, alien to the thought of violence and pursues the goal presented to her with the subtlest organization of internal influences. I don’t know what word to choose for them, because enchantment contains a connotation of the concept of acting on the dark mind, on dealing with the subconscious, and Sophia’s way of influencing those around her is more transparent, more aimed at consciousness and at the subtlest intellectual emotions and the moral-emotional area. Sophia appeals to the vast tasks of life construction and to the feelings associated with them. Even when it comes to something small and, apparently, devoid of general significance, Sophia discovers and emphasizes a moment of objective significance for herself and for others. Sofia's normativity is highly alien to untruthfulness and duality. Honesty, especially honesty in words, characteristic of Sofia, is manifested by the definiteness of expressions, their completeness, which should not leave any unspoken relationships. This directness can turn into harshness if it were not softened by treatment. But this latter in no case should come close to coquetry, subjective and untruthful: the absence of coquetry is one of the characteristic features of Sophia. And internal coquetry, that is, an inauthentic relationship with reality, is alien to her: daydreaming, creating illusions for oneself, worrying - all this is not Sophia’s business. Thus, by the structure of her spirit, Sophia significantly deviates from femininity; but this does not mean that it has masculine features: its organization is closer to that of the masculine, since this latter itself can, moving away from the polar division of human nature, approach the angelic, common to both sexes, the fundamental type of humanity. And in Sofia there is this “angelic fortress” - not the fortress of a knotty, hard male body, but the elastic strength of a very trained female body, as significant as it is inconspicuous in appearance. Sofia is not just a woman who conquers without wanting to, but she is also not power who does not ask for consent. She is the Tsar-Maiden or, as the Georgians put it about the semi-mythical Tamara, the Tsar-Queen 379. And in this microcosmic self-sufficiency, Sophia echoes Alexander, with the difference that in Alexander internal balance is given statically, while Sophia’s balance is kinetic, and she is, if not in external, then in internal movement, in the tireless play of inner life. But, despite the difference in the origin of both equilibria, in Sophia there is the same innermost dissatisfaction as in Alexander. She is too monumental for there to be a cozy place for herself in herself, in the household she manages. The warm flesh of the world does not find a rightful place in her worldview, and, meanwhile, it is precisely this that determines the warmth and righteousness of everything personal, personal life, personal relationships. Sophia once and for all decided to look at the world and rule the world from such a height from where this warmth is not visible, and therefore the very concept of it was expelled from the circle of her thoughts. As a result, it is difficult for Sophia to humbly and gratefully accept human life in the fullness of humanity, as a lawful and righteous good; being central in life, she has the blessings of life and has more than many around her, but not for her own benefit and not for her own joy. She does not value them positively, but gets used to thinking about them as something implied, along with power; and therefore, using them without thinking about them, she painfully and with internal protest endures their deprivation. Nevertheless, under this monumental and majestic appearance, human life still lives and, although with difficulty, brings to consciousness its demands, its impulses to what is closer to the heart than the most truthfully expressed truth. The basis of the personality, not having the fullness of manifestation through the face, feels itself on its own and its name - majestic, too majestic for itself. Sophia’s contempt for the flesh has the reverse side of a feeling of alienation of herself, as a face, and, with it, her name. When this dark underlying personality is strong, Sophia, as if buried under her name, can be overcome by fatalistic despondency, apathy, lethargy, and a craving for death. But death seems desirable here not at all as a transition to another world, but as a protest of powerlessness on the part of life, which wants, but does not have the internal ability to express itself. Then Sofia runs away from life out of thirst for life. Thus, mobile and active, everlasting energy, Sophia can appear constantly or, sometimes, temporarily, in stripes - in, apparently, a completely different type and state - sluggish, sleepy and apathetic, like Dormouse; and, in accordance with such a spiritual state, she will be overly plump, without blush and as if sleepy. But one should not be deceived by this appearance: in this dream, the deepest dissatisfaction and passive avoidance of feelings, from understanding the sacred truth of which she is too far from being able to either actively satisfy them, or actively refuse, experiencing the weakness of tragedy, smolders especially painfully under the dampness of external manifestations. The ratio of the names Alexander and Alexandra corresponds to the ratio: Alexey and Anna. The latter allows the clarity of the first names to blur somewhat, as a result of which some spiritual form can be taken in the register of a deeper subconscious. The onomatological proportion indicated above is answered by another, in which the ratio of the names Vasily and Sofia is equated to that of the names Vladimir and Olga. These latter are related to each other, like Vasily and Sophia, but they relate to the plane with a greater force of subconsciousness than the first. The entire second proportion is a repeated application of the principle of the first, i.e., an upward shift in the boundaries of consciousness and a corresponding softening of names. Previously, the root composition of the name Vladimir was explained from to possess and the world, so that Vladimir was interpreted as “possessing the world” or the one who is due or will succeed in such possession; As a result, spelling required the letter i at the end of this name. Linguistically, this etymology is not considered correct, the spelling Vladimir is canceled, since the ending of this name should be written measures or мѣр, and the name itself is recognized as etymologically related to the Scandinavian Waldemar and the like 380 . This is the reasoning of linguistics. But, as often happens with her, she overlooked this time the grafting onto the main root with the help of arradication and underestimated what she contemptuously called “folk etymology” - the deep penetration of the folk spirit into the idea of ​​the word. Simpler: according to the original etymology, Vladimir is not equivalent to “owning the world”; but this does not indicate the naked etymological error of the people when they layered the roots “to own” and “world” with some original etymology. And in fact, whatever the etymology of the name being analyzed, this moment of world mastery is one of the main lines of the entire picture. The name Vladimir is very close to Vasily, and when the Grand Duke, the enlightener of Kievan Rus, was named Vasily at baptism, he did not suffer a tragic break in his personality from the new spiritual essence, but only wrung out from the excess of elemental dampness, and his natural features were traversed by the Master’s chisel. In general, the name Vladimir is similar in structure and composition to Vasily, but rawer, more elemental, vaguer, more simple-minded. It is more Slavic and Scandinavian, in general, a more northern name than Vasily, in its nature the most appropriate in Byzantium. We can say that Vladimir is the northern Vasily, just as Vasily is the Tsaregrad Vladimir. Vasily is more callous, in the sense of the French raide 381, while Vladimir is more rude - as when we talk about facial features. In Vladimir there is less polish, less floridity, less distant plans and deliberate moves, less clarity of thought, less intellectual complexity, but more direct force, direct pressure, direct attitude than in Vasily. However, and perhaps precisely because of this, Vladimir’s spiritual organism is not as bad as Vasily’s; the dark principles of desire do not rest in him as an independent separate layer at the bottom, and the dregs of elemental principles fog the clarity of an objective view. Vladimir is no stranger to mixing his dreams with the truth itself, but not as a sin, a sinful indulgence, but as some kind of seduction. In Vasily, consciousness is clear and the dark will is separated from it, but when action is allowed, then, precisely, as such; Vasily knows what he is doing. On the contrary, Vladimir’s consciousness is incomparably richer and denser, but not because it is more ontological, but due to the penetration into it of raw elements of spontaneity that are not recognized as such; Vladimir thinks that he is highly conscious and is inclined to seduce himself with the opinion of the perfect elaboration of his entire being by reason, although the apparent overcoming of internal reality in him is simply due to his ignorance of what pure reason is. Figuratively speaking, let us compare the spiritual structure of Vladimir with an opalescent suspension, throughout the mass of which are scattered the smallest droplets and grains of other substances. Then it is clear that Vladimir does not find in himself an invariable measure of subconsciousness, because his very consciousness is clouded by the same subconsciousness. And when he needs to evaluate raw phenomena and establish his attitude towards them, he naturally compares these phenomena with his existing mind, and, having discovered the same raw elements in this latter, Vladimir begins to think that the raw material that is subject to spiritual assimilation has already been worked out by him, as similar to the elements of reason, his mind, and in this sense - defeated - with too much ease. In short, in Vladimir there is a tendency to what in asceticism is called “heating of the blood,” “bloody.” Therefore, Vladimir does not know well the real difficulties of spiritual self-organization and self-purification; the most important things in life are given to him easily, without difficulty and without much torment. But on the other hand, he does not know the true lightness of consciousness of truly purified, the transparency of mountain air. Vladimir tidies up the room of his soul, like a housewife who would quickly prepare for a holiday, blowing and brushing away the dust from the furnishings, and transferring this dust from the ugly, but relatively innocent lying on things to flying through the air, less visible, but more harmful. However, here it is necessary to firmly stipulate that everything that has been said relates to the essential structure of Vladimir’s personality, and not only, and not even primarily, to what is called moral life; it is not about actions, but about the deepest root causes of behavior. As for actions and misdeeds, Vladimir has little affinity for real sins, that is, with a keen sense of the sting of death. Rather, Vladimir is better than average, in this sense, but there is no sobering cold, fiery frost and purely spiritual inspiration in him, due to the always fullness of consciousness. Vladimir is always, somewhat, full, if we speak in a spiritual sense. Therefore, Vladimir is characterized by a certain vagueness of assessments, which, with undisciplined upbringing, easily leads to licentious behavior, perhaps even riotous behavior. But this deviation of Vladimir does not have an evil-sinful character, it comes from the breadth of nature, is connected with the creative principles of life, and is somehow complacent; entering it, Vladimir opens up in splendor, as if blooming. Here his broad mind, although devoid of true depth, his kindness and his other positive qualities, which are very abundant in him, can most easily manifest themselves. Vladimir is a good tree, but it needs rich soil. That is why Vladimir’s broad behavior does not seem disgusting to those around him, and indeed, in the most extreme disgrace, Vladimir does not transgress any, albeit very broad, measure and knows how, having accelerated very far, to stop, even if only a few inches from the abyss. And I repeat: with immediate instinct, for some reason, those around him always distinguish this behavior of Vladimir from similar behavior of others, although there may be almost no clearly indicated signs. What would certainly deserve censure in others is met when it comes from Vladimir, without indignation, with a complacent smile and secret indulgence: “Rus' has joy in drinking,” said Vladimir, probably as an edification to his namesakes. However, “drinking” does not necessarily need to be taken literally, and it would be wrong to say that Vladimir is characterized by drunkenness. He is damp enough without needing wine to become intoxicated, and the incessant drunkenness, heavy dependence on wine, without joy around him, is alien to Vladimir. The word “well done” goes to Vladimir. But, in addition to the correct instinct in essence, this “well done” also reflects the pleasure of those around him, perhaps gratitude for the fact that Vladimir freed them from a sense of responsibility. They feel themselves escaped from a respected but strict environment into a cheerful campaign where all world issues are easily resolved and where it is even reprehensible to strive for clarity of thought and action: here it seems petty and pedantic. The broadest generalizations, generous impulses, the brilliance and richness of life seem here to be the natural state of a person, which is not preceded by work and not followed by achievement. Drunk - everything is easy, and especially good things are easy; and as for the consequences and justifications, as for calculating one’s strengths and checking their good quality, then when in a cheerful society do they think about this. And, having received permission not to think, even having in the very environment a ban on thinking about it, everyone is inclined to submit to contagious irresponsibility, even grateful to the one who opened his eyes that responsibility can be safely forgotten. Precisely forgotten, because Vladimir would not be himself if he began to deny it. On the contrary, there is even a shadow of resistance to anything good in him; he does not deny anything, but he, inclined to broad activity, shows everything its place. And Vladimir shows various venerable, but firm and tough things, such as work, responsibility, critical purity, hastens to show his sincere respect, and then just as hastily to find them their place - in a dark corner, where they are cluttered with various other venerable, but now seeming to be unnecessary household items. But this “now” refers to each individual moment of life, and Vladimir has no time to think about the whole life, due to the busyness of everyone “now”, and besides, inebriation consists in the inability to see time from eternity, when consciousness is clarified and made bright. Vladimir is carried away by time, almost unconscious of this movement of his; he changes, but, absorbed in every instant present, he speaks of this present as eternal and final. In Vladimir, therefore, despite great courtesy, there is no ontological humility, no consciousness of one’s created limitations, no deep sense of one’s place in the world order. By extending his given private state to eternity, Vladimir, thereby, although not proud in the sense of evil self-affirmation, extends to the entire cosmos and inevitably in his own eyes receives a cosmic, world significance, more than it would be fair to recognize for him objectively, even taking into account both his existing talents and their promises. Vladimir is characterized by a widespread opinion about himself, a dream about himself, a mental anticipation of his future significance in the world, talking about his exploits, discoveries, power, etc., i.e., about all this in the future. But, instilling in himself the thought of future greatness as of the present, Vladimir relatively easily draws those around him into the magic circle of his drunken consciousness. Then it often happens that these dreams are recognized and for a short time, Vladimir actually seems to be the ruler of the thoughts of the whole world; this is an almost ghostly grandeur - a palace magically built in the night. A sign of its illusory nature, by the way, is a decisive refusal both on the part of Vladimir himself and on the part of those around him who have submitted to his charms to take an exploratory approach to the structure, to touch it, or in general to subject it to any kind of testing. It is necessary either to submit to mass hypnosis near Vladimir, or to retreat as an enemy, at least being declared as such. And after some time, even before the illusory nature of these spells is exposed, Vladimir himself will already be busy with something else, and will look at the destruction of his deeds from afar, as if it does not concern him, and, perhaps, with an air of condemnation of fools who can admit such nonsense. But here, least of all, one should see hypocrisy, although, perhaps, the matter is not without some complacent cunning: Vladimir, in fact, has already forgotten that what is being destroyed is the work of his hands, or, more precisely, his words. Of course, I didn’t forget in the psychological sense, because Vladimir’s memory in this sense is very extensive and reliable; but ontologically it is extremely short, since Vladimir quickly evaporates the feeling of connection between this act and the strong-willed depths of his personality and he is not at all tormented by responsibility. As said earlier: he spoke drunkenly, inflamed those around him, burned with self-exaltation, in which everyone believed, perhaps did a heroic deed, in which it is difficult to distinguish between the very high and the sham, and then, irresponsible, moved to another place and again - the same thing. Vladimir's achievements are as extensive as they are fragile. They don't have enough substance. They are more in appearance than in substance. But Vladimir’s strength, and, moreover, precisely the strength of such construction, is undeniable. This is the power of the magic word. Vladimir’s consciousness is permeated, as has been said, with elemental will and raw psychological experiences; logical connections and relationships in it are superficial, covering up other relationships, which, in turn, are deprived of their integrity. Therefore, Vladimir’s judgments are of little value as logical judgments, as meaning, and, at the same time, cannot be highly valued as mystical insights: the conscious and subconscious in Vladimir’s mental life mutually devalue each other. His conscious is not logically transparent, and his subconscious is too rationalized, and therefore not naive. But, devoid of value, these judgments are by no means devoid of the power of suggestion; on the contrary, precisely because by some instinct no one is looking for any special value in them, they penetrate the listener with extreme force and subjugate him to themselves. When Vladimir speaks, you feel: logical objections are useless here, but your own intuitions are also useless; A certain anxiety takes root in you, not wanting to look for a rightful place for itself in the system of your thoughts and experiences and not looking for critically balanced approval. It will fill or wants to fill your soul, self-indulgently not allowing even the thought of criticism. Therefore, disobedience is complete denial, and then you just need to stop the conversation, and temporarily, perhaps, the relationship. But, if the opposition to Vladimir’s word is overcome, it, assimilated, quickly leavens the mental content of the personality, and the latter rises magnificently, however, briefly and somehow fruitlessly: after the infatuation, when it has passed, there are no positive traces left, on the contrary - emptiness, a disgusting residue from the former self-delusion. Vladimir has a wide-ranging mind and is occupied with extensive plans. Narrow and special topics are not his cup of tea. He is attracted by everything that is general, and, moreover, not abstractly theoretical, but entailing practical consequences, opening up broad organizational prospects, telling life something unprecedented and stunning in its breadth of scope. The lack of clarity of such constructions, and, consequently, of cutting angles, makes them more or less acceptable; they are elastic and in their breadth different things can fit in without experiencing an extreme need to dissociate themselves from everything else and relate to it. The result is peace, but a false one, self-delusion with supposedly strengthened well-being. One gets the impression of a powerfully overcome chaos, a powerful mind reigning over a motley and hitherto discordant reality. But this dominance of unity over plurality is self-deception and seduction: Vladimir’s mind did not overcome anything, did not actually embrace anything, did not rise above this diversity at all. He passively embraced piles of factual raw materials, without giving himself the trouble to study his own structure of reality, and the outline of his outline is a random, in relation to the material, a combination of lines that is simple in itself. It has no internal connection with the material and adds only its own arbitrariness to the passive data of its volume, since it does not contradict existing reality. And therefore, as soon as this material, alive in its life movement, goes beyond the outlined boundaries, we have to make a new outline of it, forgetting about the old one. That's true. But Vladimir, imbued with the raw materials of experiences and dragged by the elements of the world, is little aware of his passivity and thinks to see in his schemes, in fact, cobbled together with a living hand, highly rational ideal forms and norms of reality, until with a sufficiently sharp push this latter makes him feel himself. Vladimir receives this push no earlier than his life’s drunkenness begins to pass, and only shortly before his deathbed Vladimir suddenly begins to perceive the world soberly. This conversion, the dying turn, enlightens Vladimir; well done during his life, he leaves, breaking off relations with pure sound, reverent self-pity, peacefully, and without leaving a caustic aftertaste. The swollen splendor of his earthly business manages, fortunately for him, to fall apart during his lifetime and, having survived this collapse, after his death he avoids a harsh trial for seduction, simply being a good person. Vladimir thinks, acts and lives in some excitement. And his heated words, which have more heat than substance, although they present themselves in exactly the opposite sense, inevitably make him many enemies. But against Vladimir, with noisy indignation, little real hatred is aroused, just as he himself is little inclined to harbor such for a long time. His personal life is easier than Vasily’s. He not only does not cut off his personal relationships from the general, but, on the contrary, without noticing it, proceeds from them and makes from them the norms of the unconditional and universal. In summary: Vladimir is Vasily, who grew up on Russian soil, and therefore it is clear that for Russia this is the most significant of the names, the typical name of a great Russian man only. The air of Russia has its most appropriate expression in Vladimir. But the features of true greatness characteristic of Vasily are incomparably vaguer and rougher in Vladimir. His plans and claims are incomparably greater: Vladimir, as has been said, does not mean the owner of the world, but the consciousness of the Russian people, and, consequently, his own, impose on this name an ambitious plan for world domination. This perversion of the indigenous national name reflected the basic truth and the basic untruth of the people themselves. Names remembered by history, together, are never united by a simple association of complexity in time: they are connected in consciousness because they are deeply akin to each other in their spiritual form. And, if history puts them forward more or less together, then this only establishes the basic character of a certain time, which can most appropriately pass into historical reality by the activities of people with these names. It is natural for a hero of a given time to bear a name that is significant for his modernity. And, at the same time, the paired appearance in history of these significant names of male and female should be understandable, because a certain spiritual theme of history, which must be embodied in humanity, must be carried out both in male and female nature. Alexey and Anna, Vasily and Sofia, Konstantin and Elena and other couples, not only become closer to each other in their type, but also historically achieve their most striking manifestations together, or, in any case, in one historical case or in one historical period. One of these pairs, typological and historical at once, is the well-remembered combination of Vladimir and Olga. And in terms of its root meaning, and in origin, and in historical place, and, finally, in terms of physical and mental properties, the name Olga is close to the name Vladimir. Etymologically, Olga or, in the original version, Helga or Elga means great 382; Clearly, this meaning is close in meaning to the world mastery associated with the name Vladimir. Both names came to us from Scandinavia, and both, deeply accepted by the Russian people and becoming especially Russian names, having been adopted by the Russian language, here underwent a sound revocalization that was far from accidental. Valdemer in Vladimir, of course, loses his cutting clarity, softens and becomes clouded with some dreaminess and uncertainty; in the same way, Elga’s cutting and even cruel clarity in the drawn-out and deep O of her Russian version softens, blurs somewhat and becomes, if not more affectionate, then, in any case, more calm and motionless. Both of them, Valdemer and Elga, grow up on Russian bread, become stout and no longer have the need to attack the world, either with pirate raids or magic runes: here, on new soil, everything will fall into their hands, and everyone, without effort on their part, will recognize them as rulers and great. Naturally, they lose their dryness and the training of their predatory skills, and, if they do not necessarily acquire kindness, then, in any case, their rigidity softens. And, at the same time, they lose the short certainty of their lightning-fast desires, they get lost in themselves and, romantic, in their search for something immeasurable, indefinite and unclear to themselves, we prepare for the Holy Font. What has been said refers, in fact, to the sound of these names; but the same thing would need to be repeated more specifically about the spiritual form expressed by these names. Like the name Vladimir, Olga-Elga, in its first edition there is a very expressively pagan name and, moreover, of northern paganism, where divine images are pale, unformed and little metaphysical, but the human will is strong, unyielding and itself appears as a noumenon - a mysterious force of another world. Tallness and dignity - this is, first of all, the meaning of the great name Olga. In our, modern way, it would be necessary to say, perhaps, not every one, but a big one, large, but we must remember that northern paganism assessed the largeness of a figure as greatness, as a manifestation of great forces, and therefore, a modern translation of the name Olga would be a distortion of the basic meaning of the name Olga. But so is Vladimir, for who, if not large, great, or great, therefore, can rule the world. Both of them, Vladimir and Olga, are like vessels filled to the brim with the juices of the earth: that’s why they grow, that’s why they are dignified, that’s why they affirm their whole lives, splashing out their strength, but that’s why they also have magical spells, even wisdom and the gift of prophethood. But both of the latter properties come in them from roots in the earth, and not from heaven, and therefore, they are cloudy and biased, in their passion they can deeply sin and arouse in the soul constant restlessness and the quest to find something more than earthly, in the earthly and conditional, until a ray from heaven hits them. Both of them, Vladimir and Olga, feel and know, but they know not with their minds, but with their blood, much more than what is needed for earthly things; but knowledge of them is not enough for proximity to heaven. That is why, quantitatively multiplying their earthly successes, which are given to them much more easily than others, they think of piling up something great, up to the very sky; but the sky also appears to them as Valhalla - an unchanging feast and battle. With the amount of earthly things they imagine creating with their own hands something that is greater than earthly things. But, to their credit, this attempt, the constant attempt of their lives, is neither rebellion against God, nor fighting against God, is not a conscious challenge to God, Whom they do not know, but, a kind of conscientious delusion and blindness. They do not know and do not understand, for the time being, that heaven is different from earth, and that what is great is not very big, nor, much less, a big pile of small things. Therefore, they are not driven by malice in their life construction and not by spiritual pride, which sets man against God. On the contrary, they rise upward because they surrender to the force that lifts them, like dough, into a couple of earthly juices: namely, like dough, because this rise occurs not due to internal density, but by the force of elasticity of gas bubbles, which do not contain anything essential. Their business is like soap suds, swelling just as easily as it collapses into a few drops of water. But, let it be repeated again, their pride is as far from pride as their grandeur is from greatness. In essence, they are kind fellows who can always be brought to reason if you slap them hard enough; They are less accessible to more delicate methods of suggestion, but not from contempt for others, but from intoxication with the juices of the earth. It’s not that these people don’t consider it necessary to obey, but they simply don’t hear warnings and get carried away, simply without any restraint. But when Divine mercy strikes them with an iron rod and, having smashed their work into nothingness, clearly and indisputably, not with a “fine voice of coldness” 383, but with a thunderclap, reveals to them the truly formidable reality of a different reality and power, then such people with true humility accept the collapse of everything that only recently intoxicated them to the point of self-oblivion, and understand the insignificance of their work. Maybe, after a while, they will again take up something similar, but, in any case, they will no longer look back at the one who died with regret. Olga's physical properties correspond to the pagan and, moreover, rather northern basis of this name. Olgas, as a rule, have significant facial features and a figure and, rather, are beautiful, but not delicate; they breathe almost unfeminine strength, at least according to modern concepts, and it can even turn into a certain rudeness, roughness of facial features, which would be expressed by rude treatment if Olga did not have intelligence. But her mind is also strong, above average, and, moreover, not formal or abstract, but very flexibly applied to circumstances and finding the surest path to achieving what she wants. In this respect there are some similarities between Olga and Sofia; but Sofia acts according to consciously set goals, and Olga is irresistibly carried away by her desire and flows to them through obstacles, although, perhaps, she herself is very poorly aware of what she is drawn to at the moment as irresistibly as it is not motivated in her mind. She flows in life, driven by forces that are deeper than the ordinary level of life, more organic, spontaneous, more akin to will, while Sophia does not even reach the organicity characteristic of at least this average level. Therefore, Sofia’s actions, despite their rationality and integrity, are somewhat artificial, while Olga’s, despite their splashiness, surprise and, at times, eccentricity, “for some reason” they come at a time in life and at the moment seem to us to be a more viable way out of the current confusions of life. But for a long time, neither Sofia’s legislative attitude to life, nor Olga’s adaptability, taking from life what she can, turn out to be successful. If Sofia’s exactingness leads her to collisions in life, then Olga’s instinct, achieving what she wants in the near future, often tightens the knots of what follows and forces her to look again for how to get out. However, both there and here, this is activity, namely, of the mind, although it is colored in completely different ways, due to completely different sources of its origin. When talking about Sophia, the main normative property of her mind was indicated. In Olga, on the contrary, there is the ability to understand and, even more than understand, to assimilate for her guidance the secret side of reality, the dark basis of being. This is a prophetic mind, feeding directly from the roots of the world. While Anna’s mind is full of cracks, and through them blow the breaths of completely different worlds, not correlated with this world of ours, so that Anna half resides in those other worlds, Olga, on the contrary, is firmly made and her accident is not accidental in her; she deeply perceives the world, but precisely this world, in its roots and foundations; but she absolutely cannot imagine that there is any other world incommensurable with this. And therefore, with her nature of things, with an extraordinary ability to, of all kinds, mantle, with some kind of great cohesion within herself, she is not susceptible to suggestions of a completely different order than earthly ones, and when she perceives them, it is not as impulses of life and the flowering of her abilities, but as a call to leave everything earthly, and as a call to complete resignation. Olga can be magnificent in her own way, like an underground river washing the roots of trees, and can be pure in her ardor to renounce all earthly excitement. But it is not in her nature to spiritualize and enlighten earthly life with grace; it is not in her abilities and not in her tastes. She knows how to affirm spontaneous life, giving it luxury and, in comparison with others, under the same circumstances, avoiding indecency. It has a pagan fear of the disgusting and unhealthy, which keeps it within certain boundaries or, more precisely, allows it to circumvent these boundaries in a relatively plausible manner. But this comes from her attachment to the beauty of life, perhaps partly from a sense of self-preservation, but not at all in the face of the Truth, which she would be afraid to offend - not from a feeling of sin: Olga is not afraid of sin and, most importantly, no matter what she does, she does not know. She is driven by the pressure of her desire, which is always right, or, more precisely, never raises the question of rightness. Most often, Olga, in fact, will not violate the norms, but because she is directly disgusted by it, as something ugly. But when he wants to, he will break it, without even for a moment imagining that he might want to break it and not break it. Therefore, Olga’s most efficient and bright appearance is usually perceived by those around her as something joyful, but not related to the kind of virtue; but on the contrary, treachery, changeability, rudeness and unwillingness to reckon with anyone in Olga cannot be subjected to moral judgment. This may be unpleasant, harmful, intolerant, we need to fight it, but it is completely wrong to be indignant or indignant at this: the sea sparkles with sparkles or breaks ships, depending on the conditions, but it is always the same thing - beyond the jurisdiction of morality. So, Olga’s roots go deep into the rich black soil and stands firmly on the ground. She has a lot of mental health and balance, which she receives from the earth and, despite all the reluctance to take into account moral standards, which she does not irrevocably destroy in herself, also due to the strong instinct of the earth. Olga’s very passions must be judged by a different court than many others: these are not so much evil manifestations of depravity, as strong movements of the will, which does not know restraint, but is not unwilling to know, but simply unaware. And therefore, what is offensive and painful to others that they have to receive from Olga, most likely, is not from the malicious intent to cause pain, but from the contrition of everything along the way: she turned her shoulder, and the joint flew out and, perhaps, killed someone, and she, in her ecstasy, did not give herself the trouble to delve into what had happened. This is health turning into “healthiness”. Olga, in her spiritual scale, does not fit the standards of the majority, and all her character traits are larger than usual. In this sense, she, too far from real and, especially, artificial fragility, may not seem like a woman, at least in the modern understanding of femininity. But it would be a big mistake to interpret her character as masculine, and this mistake arises when one compares her mental makeup with that of a small-scale man. But even being miniature, compared to her, he is, in fact, not feminine, just like she is not masculine. She contains the spiritual structure of the Valkyrie maiden, and she must be compared with the corresponding male type - the knight. In this largeness of Olga’s features there is, however, its own proportionality, as in Olga in general - a kind of integrity. That is why going deep into the earth, giving Olga secret knowledge, does not break her personality: Olga is prophetic, but she owns her knowledge, and it does not invade her. It is too solidly made for the intuitions of being to live in it independently; she subordinates them to the general aspiration of her personality, and everything that, due to the strength of its originality, could not be subordinated, is instinctively rejected by her and does not reach her consciousness. While cold breaths of other worlds rush through Alexei and, especially, Anna, which are in them, in Alexei and Anna, but not theirs - Olga, with her organization, is sufficiently secured from such intrusions: she absorbs what she needs from the soil and immediately assimilates it, making it part of her spiritual body. Thus, Olga’s prophetic knowledge is not inclined to turn into either prophecy, clairvoyance or a sudden ray enlightening the holy fool, or into the dark witchcraft that takes possession of Olga, into pythicity, into clairvoyance. Olga can comprehend what is unknown to others and lives by this knowledge, but she knows what she wants to know, and in this sense, more than others, she is capable of things of wisdom, understanding this word in a purely human sense. However, with abilities in this direction, she rarely gives herself the trouble to use these abilities and, as a rule, leaves them to languish uncultivated. But no matter how she treats them, they do not tear her personality apart. And therefore, madness, close to Anna, is just as far from Olga. In her integrity, Olga is unrestrained and straightforward in her own way, not in the sense of the straightforwardness of the method of action, which in Olga is very adaptive to conditions and therefore, sometimes, tortuous, but in the sense of the goal itself: once having directed her will towards a known goal, Olga will completely, without reserve and without looking back, go into achieving this goal, sparing neither those around her, those around her, nor herself, almost to the point of self-sacrifice of this goals. Having headed towards it, it cannot be stopped by anything and the obstacle placed in front of it, if not destroyed, will flow around. This is Olga due to her very long spontaneous pagan roots. She, as one should think, strongly resists her grace-filled transformation, living by her natural well-being, the truth of the bowels of the earth, the truth of power. Olga is not such that the light of grace can gradually illuminate her soul, and she is closed from it until some kind of shock and even crushing of her organization occurs. A touch of another world occurs in it all at once: suddenly a wall falls and clear outlines of snowy peaks are visible. At this moment, Olga just as suddenly realizes the futility of her previous plans and the incommensurability of the whole world in which she has lived until now with the world that has been revealed to her again. She now does not want to use herself as material for a new construction of the spiritual body, and her forces are now directed to self-restraint, to the fight against her pomp. Here, self-denial is Olga’s main feature. She tightly locks her power within herself, not showing anything special on the outside, and most strives for modesty and humility. She also goes into this without reserve, as before - into the luxury of life. And he achieves his goal. But the poise characteristic of her entire personality, both her figure and her spiritual appearance, makes her, both modest and humble, still stand out from others and noticeable with dignity, despite the lack of power and desire to dominate. The etymological meaning of the name Constantine, as well as other related ones: Constantius, Constantius and others, is recognized as completely transparent and completely indisputable; There are relatively few names that are so clear etymologically. Namely, by its root this name indicates constancy, stability, certainty. But, if where the word production lucus a non lucendo 384 is true, then it is precisely in relation to the name being analyzed: Constantinus propter inconstantiam, they call Constantine for inconstancy. Antilogisms are well known in language, when a thing or person is called directly opposite to the conceivable assessment of it. These are the countless affectionate, related and respectful names for fevers, death, and, among many nations, wild animals when they pose a real danger; These are also the good epithets of evil deities and hostile natural phenomena. This, in particular, is the ancient name of the Black Sea - “Hospitable” - Πόντος Ευξεινος, although it, due to constant storms, was considered especially dangerous, especially hostile. This is also the name Beneventum, i.e. "Good Outcome", although it was actually recognized as an unlucky one, Maleventum, "Bad Outcome" 385. In ancient times, the Black Kera and Deaths were called good goddesses. This is not the place to discuss the psychological motives of such a pseudonym or, more precisely, paronymy, nor, especially, its ontological meaning. Let the usual idea of ​​everyday life researchers remain unchallenged, that in such cases a person tries to appease evil phenomena with flattery, or to name them so that the name does not turn out to be an appeal, and finally, with the desire to ward off the unpleasant name of all those who should not be interested in it: thus, the Bashkir name Utkoden, i.e. Dog’s Backside, is given to boys so that evil spirits are not flattered by the child. Be that as it may, language has this tendency to bend the meaning of a word backwards. The name Constantine also belongs to the category of these phenomena: Constantinus propter inconstantiam. Indeed, there is no character with greater inconstancy, in the pure meaning of this last word, than the character of Constantine. There are people who are fickle from frivolity, who simply think little about their actions and relationships, and for whom all impressions flow without delay. There is another kind of inconstancy, when a person is overwhelmed by passions, and each new impression takes possession of him completely. There is also insidious inconstancy, in which a certain line of one’s own is pursued with the help of treachery, while everything else serves only as a means for it and, having served its purpose, is discarded and betrayed as unnecessary. Finally, there is the inconstancy of Don Juan, behind which lies some vague but persistent search for something eternal and immeasurable. These types of inconstancy arise as a consequence of certain internal movements and cannot, therefore, be considered an independent characteristic of the individual. On the contrary, Constantine’s inconstancy does not depend on anything, but is itself a primary character trait. Constantine is impermanent not for some reason or for anything, but by the will to impermanence, as such. What is most characteristic of Constantine is some kind of unmotivated whim, impatience with existence, including with himself, a nervous reaction to life, a will to inconstancy. This is a person who himself does not know what he wants deeply, and therefore wants for a long time; and, having started in a certain key, he suddenly, without modulation, moves into another, breaking off the first with some kind of irritation, either at others or at himself, for having contacted it. As if spoiled by court flattery and ignorance of the answer to himself “no,” Constantine is internally angry at the whole world and at himself and, having asked the world a question, does not give himself the trouble to listen to the world’s answer. Konstantin is impatient with existence, both external and his own, he tugs at it in an arrogantly spoiled manner and with a habitual gesture of obvious superiority, although this is, precisely, the habit of showing his superiority, and not the consciousness of it, and not the conviction of it: Konstantin can be just as capricious and demanding of himself. Konstantin is a gifted nature, mainly with a subtle sensitivity to all sorts of spirits and all sorts of suggestions. He is instantly recognizable in the most subtle shades and tastes, but his sensitivity is passive and similar to that of a woman. He is proud of his sensitivity and gets used to considering it as the only worthy quality, as a sign of superiority, sophistication, and exclusivity. He does not see other qualities and advantages other than sophistication. But, having no duty in his soul, he is generally deprived of those experiences that last a long time. Impressionism is his element. Meanwhile, every style and everything truly perfect is defended for many years. Therefore, Konstantin poorly understands the deep difference between the achievements of great culture and the theatrical, or exhibition, elegance of the present hour; more precisely, it is not that he understands poorly, but rather does not want to take it into account and practically prefers the fleeting. Moreover, long-term creations of human constancy can even irritate him with their immutability, requiring constancy both from those around him and from himself. Konstantin, in pursuit of the exquisite, is inclined to prefer a cheap but sharp novelty to an eternal one, and will even be glad to deal with the former, because the next day it can be disdainfully discarded, taking up a new toy, and the eternal may not even notice Konstantin around him and, in some secret premonition of this, he tries to express his contempt for this latter in advance. But his talent and his naturally refined taste do not leave him ignorant of the true value of the neglected and the cheapness of the chosen. He chooses the latter, but is hostile to himself for such a choice and immediately prepares to abandon his chosen one in order to go for a new one. However, its taste, in its very depths, is unmistakable; and, unfaithful to anything external, Constantine is sometimes unfaithful to himself; smells something first-class, unnoticed by others and, contrary to the concurring voice of everyone around him, will try to highlight it and exalt it above all else. Perhaps here, along with Konstantin’s sensitivity, a certain whim is at work - the sophistication inherent in Konstantin, prompting him to act contrary to the crowd. But, if this is a whim, then it is a happy one, Columbus’s egg, which in some cases gives a new era, in others a new direction, in others a new dazzling turn of thought. Such “whims” on the human side can be providential and can significantly break history; and it is difficult to imagine how such turns and turning points could have taken place in history, large or small, if historical figures had always maintained calm, prudence and caution, if they had always fairly taken into account everything worthy of consideration and were afraid of sinning against the truths known to them. But here Constantine’s saving whim comes to the rescue: acutely sensing among many magnificent truths one, worn out and inconspicuous, but in fact concealing the future within itself, the Constantines - not that they always dwell on them, but have the power to stop and, neglecting the careful unraveling of complex circumstances, declare, contrary to justice, everything else non-existent and only this one, apparently so biasedly put forward by them, is the only valuable and worthy of attention. This is done so capriciously, autocratically and even arrogantly that, extolled by them, it is extremely quickly accepted by others and wins a cultural victory. Here, both Constantine’s subtle guesswork, with which he grasped the true correlation of the hidden forces of history, and the crowd’s susceptibility to suggestions when they are proclaimed without a call for thoughtfulness, especially if they, having the truth behind them, are expressed as an audacious demand, immediately contribute to each other. With one blow, often delivered with arrogant carelessness, Constantine gives victory and predominance to what, if one began to take into account all the existing circumstances, could only be put into practice slowly, through concessions, agreements and many discussions. But, having subtly guessed the state of things and seized the moment, Konstantin usually does not know how and does not want to cultivate in silence the seed he planted. When it has become recognized, it seems to him not refined enough to share the general idea, and he competes with himself, trying to add to his correct guess even others, but already forced and cheap. He can begin to decorate a truly living sprout that he has planted, and these decorations, put on him in excess and thoughtlessly, are often tasteless, causing one to even doubt the authenticity of what they decorate. Having just demonstrated the finest taste and enormous independence of his assessments, and the insight of his guessing, Konstantin can immediately blur everything he has done; and ruin all his work, not from lack of taste and not from cowardice of thinking, but from the fear of not being subtle enough, from some kind of panicky fear of being constant and therefore, as it seems to him, monotonous, even if the object of constancy was nothing other than his own, and, moreover, very peculiar, discovery. Konstantin is rarely wise: most often it turns out that he was too wise, trying to surpass himself. Uneven in his thoughts and assessments, Konstantin is also uneven in his relationships with people. With his sensitivity, he, at times, not to say minutes, can come very close to people, guessing their state of mind; when he wants, or rather, when he wants, he is kind and responsive. But then another verse may be found; Konstantin will become gloomy for no discernible reason. And this is not because he wanted to cause harm for anything; he bites his nails, angry at his own emptiness that has opened up to him and, feeling his powerlessness, to get out of it. Active, when he finds activity, he himself cannot act from himself at all, and when there is no, unknown reason, activity flowing to him, he does not know how to do anything to independently determine his attitude towards the world. His state of mind is reminiscent of March weather, constant in its inconstancy and stable in its instability: in a few minutes it is difficult to predict what will happen to Konstantin, and not only to those around him, but also to himself. This is both good and bad. When you talk about Constantine, an image invariably comes to mind: the seed of an exotic plant belonging to a noble family, but grown in stunted or, rather, very shallow soil; this sprout has obvious signs of its nobility, but its equally obvious vitality does not correspond to the great demands placed on it by its appearance. And this plant is sometimes higher, sometimes lower than ordinary herbs; one can feel the irregularity of its growth in it. So Constantine is the characteristic name of decadence, and completed cycles of history, and falling cultures, and ending directions of thought, and individual genera. Here, in a decadent environment, he finds the most favorable conditions for himself, and it is not without reason that the fading Roman Empire associated itself with Constantine. One of the etymologies of the name Elena leads it to the original word selenium, i.e. moon. Now it is not important to delve into the linguistic verification of this explanation, however, the most probable. Whatever the root of the name Helen, the participation, primary or secondary, in this name of the word selenium is undoubted, just as the lunar character of the ancestor of all Helens, the daughter of Leda, is undoubted. Whether a historical person or a mythical image, Helen of Troy appears to be “worn with lunar incense”: she is an aspect of the moon, but not of its dark side, the abode of the Manes and the ruling Hecate, but of the light hemisphere. It also casts a spell, but more insinuating and not aimed directly at evil. Such is that Elena, the Moon in the greatest splendor of her magical light, subjugating all nature and dissolving all outlines and all forms with her phosphorescent fog. This is an unkind charm that lures without knowing any rebuff, and blurs inner clarity after those enchanted have lost their will and self-determination. Elena follows the path of that original one, but, of course, with a corresponding decrease in both plan and strength. The name Elena signifies feminine nature, but not in the physical moment of marriage and birth, nor in the spiritual moment of eternal femininity: Elena is eternal femininity. It is most determined by the spiritual moment of the female organization, the spiritual properties of a woman, the very ones that, in the usual understanding, constitute the essence of a woman’s character. The absence of a solid foundation of norms in behavior and thoughts, the predominance of emotions that do not flow in a strictly defined direction, the fragmentation and whimsical nature of mental life - these are the features. This does not mean that Elena does not have intelligence, just as the same cannot be said, in general, about the mental makeup of a typical woman. But the mind here clearly performs a subordinate service and each time receives special orders from an unexpectedly emerging spiritual impulse. Therefore, Elena is not characterized by theoretical activity of the mind, just as disinterested thinking is not characteristic. But she is able to achieve her goals and show great mental resourcefulness and perseverance. This quality of Elena, with spiritual bad manners, easily turns into cunning. Elena is partly like Olga, and partly like Sofia, or more precisely, she is right between them. Olga is stronger and ruder than her, Sofia is more abstract and more powerful. Olga differs from Elena in the predominance of a dark, primitive will, Sofia - in the clarity of intelligently set goals; in Elena, the ability to respond emotionally and influence the feelings of others is most developed. In this sense, it is easier to deal with her than with the spontaneously pushing Olga or the imperiously normative Sofia; Elena will attract you in her direction so that you won’t even notice it, and she herself, perhaps, is not very aware of what happened. Olga pushes with divination, Sofia forces with proof, and Elena lures, persuading with charms. Therefore, with Elena they most lose freedom and the very feeling and need for it, but they do not notice their loss. And Elena herself has no freedom, changeable like water, with feelings giving way to surf waves in her, according to a rhythm unknown to her. These waves of spiritual life come from afar, from the vast world of the soul, but, in contrast to Olga, who lives unrhythmically, sometimes serenely, sometimes suddenly ejected from the abyss by water masses, - in contrast to her, Elena is more natural and more superficial: her excitement is excited, rather, by external rather than deep causes and comes to the border of her contact with other people more calmly and smoothly than in Olga. The largest waves pass over it, fluid and wet, harmless and without a trace for it, sliding oilily over the entire surface; their destructive power affects only the border of this sea, and the waves become destructive only when they hit something solid. So, Elena’s feelings, the strongest, do not destroy her; they, however, grow into formidable ramparts when they are opposed by some spiritual foundation. If he holds out, the wave will go back, pacified and neutralized; if not, he will be trampled and crushed. This variability, constancy in impermanence, surprises, surges of great strength, giving way at times to ebb, establish a formal similarity between Helen and Constantine. Like the latter, Elena subtly senses what is happening, just like him - she is capable of unexpected whims and whims. But, despite the formal similarity, in the essence of the matter she is deeply different from Constantine: after all, her name requires from her properties that are already akin to the female character, while Constantine has to receive a spiritual form despite its masculine basis. This explains the luck of Elena, who breathes deeply in her own element and receives in her name some kind of permission to eternal femininity and the right to forget about everything else; whereas the unluckiness of Constantine and the frailty of his body are inherent in the initial contradiction of his form and its basis, as a result of which he is always under the ban to be himself, like a man, and, however, with the impossibility of surrendering without regard to the feminine properties of his name. Always dissatisfied, and with internal discord in his soul, decadent in his existing organization, he contrasts with Elena, who is lush in his mental life, happily unfolding, and therefore satisfied. Constantine appears as Helen's shadow, a failed attempt by a man to take on the lunar character. Like other names, Elena in different spiritual climates receives different shades and aspects, which are expressed, respectively, in certain changes in the sound itself and the sound form of the name. In the Russian environment, this name, like most names, becomes somewhat blurred, losing the clarity of its fine lines, and becomes somewhat simpler. More precisely, the kinetics of the name becomes more difficult to grasp and the internal movements of mental life blur, and become more difficult to express in words and less impetuous, but with greater weight. Already in the transition from Selena to the form Έλένη, Helena, the loss of the initial sibilant indicates the descent of the name from the highest plane of the subtlest energies to a lower one, from ontology to soulfulness. According to Kabbalah, the sibilant “s” is the smallest possible sound, minimum anolibile, with which a spiritual idea enters the world of verbal embodiments. This subtlest rustle, the lightest rustle, a breath of air, a sound something that is not much different from nothing. And the symbol of Sophia, spiritual wisdom - the serpent, testifies to itself precisely with this subtlest of sounds. So the spiritual energy of feminine nature is realized, entering the world through the most subtle action, which is almost no different from a purely spiritual attraction to oneself by the light of all-conquering beauty. This is the initial and most essential part of the name “s” being analyzed. The spiritual norm and guiding star of the name Elena is Selena; but Selena is too far from earthly conditions and too difficult. A woman, even a very significant one, will avoid this difficulty and drops this s in her name, although it still continues to be implied in the name and in some rare times of life is sometimes attached to the name, like an Aeolian harp sounded from nowhere. But, usually, this is lost. Linguistics shows how it coarsened into the thick aspirated name Helena. Intelligent and intelligible entry into the world has become heavier here into the emotional and psychological. The initial aspiration has now become a sigh, a human feeling, instead of divine beauty, and thus the sound weight of the name passes into the second part of the name, just as the internal properties are also associated with this latter. Helena no longer shines, but is shrouded in a lush veil of feminine feeling, which flows around her and sways like a living wave, somewhat reminiscent of the former radiance of pure beauty. But that's how it was in ancient times. However, the destruction of the active principle of the name goes its own way. The thick aspiration turns into a light one, and the latter ceases to be pronounced. Our church Elena, with an iotated E at the beginning, pronounced like Yelena, still retains in the initial Y or J the subtlest echo of a former sigh and points to the region from where this name descended to us. The foreign, non-church pronunciation of Elena takes away this reflection of the past from the name, but, at the same time, it leaves in the name an onslaught and a claim to subtlety, which it no longer has. Elena is a harsh and loudly feminine name that has not yet found a new form of balance and has not entered into everyday life. This is a characteristically secular name, a salon name that has no justification in the spiritual past and does not feed on the present from everyday life, an unspiritual and unpopular name. A new form of balance of the name is found in the diminutive Lena, immeasurably simple and unpretentious, compared with its original type, but somehow more mature and pacified. This no longer contains a magnificent and even wise cunning, which is directly, without rational considerations and intentions, naturally woven into Elena’s spiritual plexus; There is no conscious cunning here, capable of turning into intrigue, Elena. Lena is rather simple, but not completely without her own mind, and her tricks are also simple and very, so to speak, close. There is almost no longer left in her that divine active inactivity, which motivates everyone by its very existence, without, however, making a single motivating effort, which attracts everyone without forcing anyone. There is not enough in Lena of that emotional atmosphere that embraces and excites those around her, gently penetrating their souls and likening them to herself. Lena has to act more out of herself, to be in the crowd. Her feminine properties no longer have significant effectiveness outside of herself and do not extend far beyond the boundaries of her own organization. Therefore, Lena no longer embraces others so much as she easily and willingly responds to the emotions of another soul. However, here too one can discern something original in her responsiveness: entering mentally into the inner life of another, she then gives back in abundance what she has received, and deepens and expands her own inner movement. Lena will not just help another, but will serve him, as it were, as a resonance box, as a result of which, perhaps, the small thing to which she responded will become more significant and complete. Lena's responsiveness has within itself the female ability to give birth, although in this case it is not a physical birth. But, nevertheless, her kindness has nothing to do with morality, but relates specifically to the area of ​​birth, because through it aspirations and movements enter the world and are embodied that would perish without a trace, often even unrecognized by those in whom they occur. The name of the goddess, Selene, is not correlated with age and is beyond the question of one or another psychology of age; it shines with eternal, unfading beauty, which combines all ages; in the spiritual organization of Selene, the best properties are thought to be collected from baby to old age. Elena, as the name of an ancient people, makes one think about the wisdom achieved, although it is combined with the image of fullness and flourishing of bodily strength. On the contrary, there is some kind of immaturity in Lena, more like a teenager than an adult, in some way - invariably a teenager, until her death. Perhaps the appearance of the name Lena among young and immature people also means a lot here. But, in any case, Lena has a lot of unspent energy, and therefore there is freshness and spring, although not early. Finally, Elena (and Elya) are also ageless, in their youth they were dried up by the interests of a much older age, and in old age they do not understand their aging and continue to feel almost the same as in the ancient years of their entry into life. Along with Lena, you can also hear the diminutive Elya. Just as Lena is a simplification, but on the broad historical path of peoples, so Elya is a simplification, also consistent in its own way, but on the narrow path of separation from the people’s consciousness, and therefore it is natural that such a reduction takes into account the fundamental shortcomings of this path, although it simplifies the more complex organism named Elena. Let us now try to slightly verify what has been said with the symbolism of the sounds of Kabbalah. The name Helena can then be broken down into two sound “roots”: HEL – הל, and NA – ןא. This is what we find about the first root in Fabre d’Olivet: “HEL. Consisting of the sign of elemental existence attached to the root אל, a symbol of outward force and upward movement, this root (HEL) produces a variety of concepts, the exact meaning of which is very difficult to establish strictly. (This property is feminine iridescence, defined in its uncertainty and difficult to grasp in the exact word - Helena. P.F.) This, in general, is an upward striving (effort superieur), which causes stretching, lengthening, relaxation; this is an unknown force that breaks the bonds of bodies, stretching them, breaking them, turning them into shreds, or even dissolving (corrupting) and relaxing them through excessiveness.” Therefore, the word HEL הל: “every concept of extension, effort made on a thing to stretch it, unfold it, stretch it, bring it to a certain point, to some goal; twitching, pain; continuous movement; hope, expectation”, etc. Root "ןא, NA. Every concept of youth and newness; every concept of freshness, grace, beauty; every concept that one forms for oneself is relative to a new generation, relative to a young and graceful being.” The Arabic word of the same root means "new, newborn, graceful, fresh, pleasant, but also weak, feeble, fickle." Etc., in a whole series of further complications of the same “root”. Thus, the main features of the name Elena are indeed confirmed by letter analysis, according to the methods of Kabbalah. If we now turn to the diminutive - Lena, then it is clear what is the meaning of strengthening the second syllable in it. On the other hand, the first syllable LE then coincides with the emphasized meaning of this second, losing the color of a higher and mysterious power, and acquiring a more earthly appearance. “LE, לה. Any movement directed towards elementary existence and making an effort to be realized and manifest. Natural strength; natural movement of growth; wet root: everything that turns green, fresh, moist, cheerful; everything that shines with youth, beauty, freshness; everything that is smooth and pleasant to the touch, etc.” There are names whose sounds smoothly ascend in an arc, only to then descend just as smoothly, or, on the contrary, descend in order to rise back. The vocal organs taking part in their pronunciation appear here sequentially, and the sound of the name opens up like a kidney. Here one involuntarily imagines the image of a tightly rolled ribbon, thrown obliquely, while its end is held by the hand: unrolling, the ribbon remains connected. Likewise, the sound of a name can be integral, one sound, despite its internal richness. This coherence of sound usually indicates the harmony of the type of a given name. Such a name develops some internal unity, and the expanded image depends relatively little on external conditions. Even with the stupidity of behavior and the constant whims of his life path, the bearer of such a name seems complete in his own way. In his very whimsicality, he is clearly subject to some law of his personality. The name Alexander, or, better, in its Greek form Άλέξανδρος, like many others, draws a smooth arc in mental space, tight and invariably progressive. On the contrary, there are names whose sound zigzags. Mobile, and even somewhat convulsive in its movement, it lacks coherence and smoothness; the very organs that serve to pronounce it act randomly, or, more precisely, the order of their appearance lies in the fact that each time a distance is established between them, almost the greatest possible. This sound does not describe parabolas, like a disc thrown by a strong hand, but rather traces a broken path, ultimately remaining in the same area, thrown like a tennis ball. This is not so much a sound as sounds, restless sounds, and, moreover, depriving the quiet clarity that each of them separately is strong and cannot be missed as something indifferent. This, precisely, from the sound side, is the name Nicholas, or even more clearly in its Greek form Νικόλαος. It seems to be swept away by centrifugal forces, and each sound wants to move independently of the others, suddenly turning into the next one, as if not for the sake of a given name, but with a push against an external obstacle. So is the character of Nikolai: it consists of individual straightforward onslaughts, which seem to be unrelated to each other by the internal forces of the personality, but only limited in their indefinite straightforwardness by those circumstances of the external world to which this onslaught is directed each time. Nikolai’s spiritual space is limited not because this is how the structure of his personality expresses itself externally, but because this is the structure of the external environment that takes over his activities. For Nikolai, action directed outward is most characteristic. It may seem, at first glance, similar to female infinity, infinity and chaos, striving to spread until it meets obstacles. But this similarity is only apparent: that female power is objectless and indivisible, and it encounters obstacles passively, as something unexpected and accidental. On the contrary, Nikolai himself is consciously directed by action on some object that he chooses. He foresees it and wants it, and without him there would be no movement itself. Female power wants to spread and, unexpectedly for itself, affects something external; Nikolai wants to influence a certain object, consciously and out of a sense of duty, and rushes towards it because he decided so. Therefore, a woman’s descent is never straightforward and flows, as far as possible, around the obstacles encountered; Nikolai, in his activity, walks, or, more precisely, rushes in a straight line, and will never be able or want to bypass the obstacle, but will either sweep it away with his onslaught, or recognize it as invincible and bounce in the opposite direction, again in a straight line, to a new object of influence. In himself, Nikolai does not find the scope and subject of self-disclosure. He is too rational to listen to the underground surf within himself, and too principled to allow himself such, in his estimation, idleness. His life is in activity. This activity is non-stop, because Nikolai does not give himself any rest or time, considering it his duty. But he understands duty itself rationally and externally, and the concept of it arises not from the depths where this world comes into contact with another world, but on the surface of moralism. Nikolai rarely has doubts about what is good and what is bad. The antinomies of inner life are far from him, just as, in general, he has little interest in delving into areas where it is difficult to give, or, in any case, difficult to expect, clear and businesslike decisions. His very thinking is without overtones and subtleties, schematic, clear, with clear rules of behavior, which he does not doubt at all and which he adheres to tightly. Without doubts or hesitations, Nikolai always knows firmly what is possible and what is not, what must and what is forbidden; in his mind, he has once and for all distinguished between honest and dishonest (this division may not completely coincide with the current one) and steadfastly adheres to it, ready, if necessary, to violate his duty, to any sacrifice. This is a character in which there are no smooth and elastic lines, but everything consists of straight segments. In a saint they are symbolic and ontological, but in an ordinary person they are wooden and callous. Nikolai views himself as the center of action, feeling relatively little other forces above and below him. He overestimates his importance in the world and it seems to him that everything around him does not happen by itself, organically unfolding and guided by forces that have nothing to do with the implementation of human plans, but must certainly be done by some reasonable will. He is inclined to consider himself as such, a kind of small Providence, the duty and purpose of which is to care for the reasonable good of all those who, in fact, or according to his exaggerated assessment, are among those under his care. And, having accumulated countless worries, real and imaginary, Nikolai languishes under their burden and is painfully afraid for himself to let go of the reins of government from his hands, because he does not trust either the forces of life, or the coming of age of others, or, in general, the abilities of those around them to follow their own path in life. This is not conceit, because to have conceit you need to compare yourself to someone like us. Nikolai has a view of those around him, like a school teacher has a view of his students, a tutor has a view of his pupils, or, better yet, a bailiff, a good, honest bailiff, in a small town - of all the inhabitants. This is a constant consciousness of responsibility for all kinds of well-being and order, even where no one assigns this responsibility to Nikolai. At the same time, order and well-being are conceived in a very simplified way. It’s clear that in such a state of mind, Nikolai cannot help but be proud. He is so close to his concentration and is so deeply convinced of the beneficence of his cares that denying even the particular circumstances of his activity or his primacy seems to him an encroachment on the truth, the bearer of which he considers himself and with which he almost identifies himself. His tireless activity, in most cases, without material gain, is largely driven by pride, as a need to prove to himself and others, and to justify his opinion of himself and the position he holds. And then, fighting against doubt in him, Nikolai can be stern and cruel in his straightforwardness, believing or trying to convince himself that he is fighting for the truth, without which those around him would suffer enormous damage; but, in fact, there is a moment of self-esteem that he does not clearly appreciate. Nikolai wants to be a benefactor, and he considers it his duty to be one. But this does not mean that this alone determines his attitude towards people. Rather, on the contrary, the very thought of beneficence arises in him as a by-product of his real kindness. Nikolai has kindness throughout his entire makeup, and cannot help but have it, if only because it is impossible to live with a constant sense of responsibility for others and not brighten up this feeling with a kind attitude towards those under his care. This kindness, however, has a very definite spiritual tone. It is not at all similar to the acute pity for all living things, which sometimes pinches the heart, but is inactive and does not force one to provide support; Moreover, such pity is aimed at the fundamental suffering of all living things and at the disasters that cannot be eliminated from life, for which there are no cures and the very thought of the invincible power of which stops every impulse. On the other hand, Nikolai’s kindness is not moral impressionism, when help is provided with a very unique choice, at first glance as if even whimsically, when a difficultly motivated, but immutable intuition forces one to help someone alone and only him, although there are thousands of people in need of help living around him, and even he cannot be helped in everything and not in various obvious needs of everyday life, but in some aspect of his life that seems to be possible be a luxury or a whim, in any case, not a necessity. All these feelings are alien to Nikolai; in his readiness to help, he is guided by the closest and completely indisputable, from an everyday point of view, concepts about human needs. The elementary needs of human life and their immediate consequences, the simplest but universally human relationships concern Nikolai. With a keen and businesslike eye, accustomed to this kind of attentiveness, Nikolai will examine the construction of life in its foundations, the people with whom he came into contact, quickly evaluate how and what, and make a decision to help in this and that. Nikolai will not only not want to take into account and exclude from his care, but even, like a man soberly, will condemn as self-indulgence, exoticism and dreams of idleness as self-indulgence, more secondary and not in immediate need (as is usually thought) needs, mental contradictions and entanglements, all individual sharpenings of inner life. He approaches a person too ministerially to take into account the severity and complexity of an individual fate, which alone could absorb all attention. Its relation to man is always against the general background of many people, and then there is a natural need to consider all people as one surface, although, in fact, society should be compared to a Gothic cathedral, where there are no even surfaces at all, but everything is placed vertically and consists of individual spiers and points rising to the sky. But the minister has neither the time nor the desire to know that every person is a well; he is content with looking at the lid of this well and considers it an inaccessible luxury for others to have something other than this lid, and for himself to think about something beyond their common plane. Nikolai views himself as an ambulance, and correctly denies the relevance of art and philosophy in it. But he unfairly views the whole world as a collection of only such carriages, and is somewhat condescending towards everything else. This does not mean that Nikolai himself is not involved, and is not capable of engaging in the highest cultural activities. On the contrary, possessing a clear mind, the strength of inner pressure and truthfulness, he can and does have success in the sciences and arts. But what he has achieved, for all its value, sometimes strength and even depth, is usually somehow crumbly, because it is made up of individual indisputable gains that are not linked into one whole by half-proven and almost unproven happy guesses, premonitions and excitement of thought. What Nicholas achieved, no matter how significant it was, was devoid of fragrance. Phosphorescent lights will not appear here: Nikolai says exactly what he says, no more and no less. Out of some kind of touchiness, he always answers the world with Cordelia’s answer: “I love exactly as much as a daughter should love her father,” but he does this not out of shy pride, but out of the always straightforwardness of his thoughts. Not only is symbolic thinking unusual for him, but also the very concept of a symbol; the limit of his desires in the field of thought is French clarity. The example that he would like to imitate in everything is mathematical algorithms, the creative and symbolic nature of which he does not understand and in which he would like to see something extremely distinct and forever unshakable. No matter how strong such a mind (Nicholas) may be in one case or another, the prophetic voices of nature do not sound in it, there is no melodious principle in it at all. Nikolai is an exaggeratedly masculine nature, with one-sidedly developed properties of the masculine spirit, and therefore excludes feminine penetration into being, in addition to the logical activity of the mind. For Nikolai, the mind does not organize what it has acquired in other ways, but must come to the truth on its own: this is an attempt by the one-sided masculine principle to give birth from itself. Where the feminine principle is given by life itself and in abundance, especially in the chaos of society, this one-sidedness of Nicholas can be useful and achieve the goal, for he puts into order the rich, but disorderly. But in other cases, in more theoretical areas, when Nikolai no longer receives an influx of nutrition from the outside and, of necessity, withdraws more into himself, he runs the risk of starting to invent problems from scratch and exhausting himself with aimless and unjustifiable work. Infertility, with great effort, is often Nikolai’s lot. This mind is not inclined to contemplation. He may rise high on certain occasions, but he always remains mindful of himself and therefore does not go into intellectual ecstasy. He doesn't float. He cannot be called selfish; but it contains some elements of calculation and utilitarianism. In his theoretical activities, Nikolai also sees something administrative - establishing some kind of order. No matter how distracted she may be, she is not selfless, but is (or appears to him) also, a kind of ambulance, helping or saving someone or something. Even the most abstract question of mathematics appears to Nikolai, since he has already taken up such a subject of prime necessity, so that, without solving this question, someone, to put it figuratively, will break his leg or go without eating. Perhaps Nikolai is mistaken here, just as he can generally be mistaken, relying mainly on calculations of reason; however, he himself evaluates this occupation as absolutely necessary. Who is different, and Nikolai is too principled to indulge in contemplation despite the matter and allow himself what he himself evaluates as the luxury and beauty of life. He, of all names, perhaps most values ​​\u200b\u200ba person's human dignity, holds on to it within himself, fearing to let it go, and demands it from others. There is a certain convulsion and anxiety in this holding, as if human dignity so easily slips away by itself. Indeed, Nikolai imagines it as something artificial, which is not capable of being strong and preserved by organic forces. The natural world, on the one hand, and the mystical world, on the other, seem to him equally far from reason and exclude rationality, while humanity is identical with rationality. And therefore, any descent from this borderline plane of two worlds frightens him, like a loss of humanity. Acosmic and mystical, Nikolai does not see and does not want to see the ontological roots of reason itself, and therefore - the rationality of what is beyond the narrow limits of human consciousness. His own sphere is human culture, understood, however, not as the highest plane of creative nature and not as the foundation of life above, but opposed to all being. Nikolai is a typical city dweller and citizen. He does not trust being, because he does not feel the Logos guiding him and in his soul he is poorly aware that “all that was and without Him would have been as nothing” 386. Too far from existence to be interested in denying the above Gospel saying, Nicholas simply does not take it into account and believes only in those divine powers that are revealed in the conscious activity of the organizing human mind. Where a person trusts being and its organically intelligent forces, there is calm and important slowness: events, with such an assessment, ripen by themselves, and haste will not help anything. Then there is no need to fuss about events, for, as it is said, “no one can, by trying, add an inch to his height” 387. The flip side of this trust in being can develop inactivity, lethargy, laziness and fatalism. Nikolai, as said, trusts only reason - not only his own, but also God's, since he is turned to culture. Nikolai trusts only conscious effort. This necessarily leads to the ardor that marks this name very characteristically. Hot throughout his personality, he maintains this quality in himself with his convictions about its value. Slowness is both alien and disgusting to him. Carefully thought out life moves that wait for a favorable moment are alien to him; he is not only bored with unraveling the knots of life, but also hostile, as something in which he suspects either intrigue, politics, or cunning. Meanwhile, Nikolai is straightforward and deliberately honest, deliberately straightforward, willing to have ardent honesty and honest ardor. Here he stylizes his inclinations in himself and tends to become programmatically honest, programmatically direct and programmatically hot. Already prone to getting excited, not hearing the music of existence, he still throws firewood under himself, and gets himself excited, believing that this is where he has reached the pinnacle of human dignity. His closest female addition to Nicholas is the name Ekaterina. This is also a strong character, in which one can see many, correspondingly changed, features of Nikolai; and just like Nikolai, Catherine stays primarily near the layer of consciously constructed human culture, in the area of ​​human norms and relationships, and her gaze is directed at the organization of human affairs, but not deep into nature. The directness and honesty of Nicholas, this purity of a man's appearance, is expressed in Catherine in a similar way. Truthfulness, selflessness, openness of action, avoidance of coquetry in general: the desire to keep one’s appearance untainted by anything low, dark or vague - characterizes Catherine. But, like Nikolai, Catherine not only has such properties, but also considers it necessary to have; she carries them within herself, emphatically and somewhat demonstratively. This is not chastity and shyness, but a magnificent purity, which in its own consciousness builds a magnificent case for itself and which is so confident in itself that sometimes it considers itself the right and strength to majestically step down from its pedestal, firmly convinced that no dirt can stick to it. Nikolai's pride is significant; This sign is also characteristic of Catherine, but with the difference that it goes deeper into the depths of the personality and is rooted in pride. Nikolai's pride is more superficial and more petty, moreover, it is restrained by the moral task that Nikolai sets for himself, and by the central place in society that he ascribes to himself. Catherine, on the other hand, takes it deeper and, although in her soul she considers herself the rightful owner of power, however, out of pride she will not reach out for it too much. In addition, moralism, due to its surface, seems petty and somewhat philistine to her. She needs a greater scope of life, she is ready for tragic shocks, although she thinks of them as some magnificent role taken upon herself. If Nikolai is ready for great self-sacrifice and indeed often sacrifices himself, then Catherine is a heroic nature, and in the absence of a reason for beautiful heroism, she is inclined to invent all kinds of hopelessness for herself, as a suitable situation for high, and, moreover, deliberately high, feelings and actions. The name Ekaterina has at its root the meaning of purity, spotlessness. This meaning of the name in itself is too responsible to be carried out easily and freely. But this name has, in addition, an even more aggravating definition of purity, proclaimed by the essence of this character: this is, precisely, the syllable e, obtained through the abbreviation of the Greek ἀεί, which means “ever,” “eternally.” It is clear that eternal purity is a property too heavenly to be expressed as a motto even to oneself, let alone publicly. Such a motto demands so much from the one who took it for himself or received it from others, and involuntarily arouses such immoderate hopes in those around him that Catherine finds herself in an unnatural position. She feels like a person who has made extraordinary promises and promised much more than she is capable of and, perhaps, than she intends to give. He has placed a heavy burden on himself and, no matter how much he fulfills of what he promised, it will all be only a tiny fraction of what is expected of him. Of course, we are talking here not about consciously given promises, nor about consciously presented demands, but about the ontological state of affairs and the consequences that slip into the subconscious and semi-conscious mental life. Catherine occupies such a place in society, by the power of her name, that she inevitably becomes the subject of attention. One might not even look at this attention - as something external and arising out of a misunderstanding; this would be the case if something similar had happened to the bearer of some other name. But that’s the point, that’s the difficulty, that the name Ekaterina for Ekaterina is not an external garment that can be mentally distinguished and separated from oneself: the name permeates the personality through and through and has its roots in its deepest center, and getting rid of it, at least mentally, is even more difficult than from the consciousness of oneself - I. Thus, a child who does not yet know a personal pronoun already speaks about himself, calling himself by his name. When someone is praised or blamed for his social position, title, rank, even for beauty or ugliness, talents or mediocrity, and finally, for virtues or vices, one can distract this, praised or blamed, from oneself and say: “It’s not me, but it”; therefore, one can, to a certain extent, not feel responsible when this “it” does not live up to the expectations placed on it, even legally, and in a sense, relieve oneself of the guilt that this, given to me, is revealed in the world unsuccessfully. But this cannot be said about the name, the soul of our soul, and the force applied to it is certainly taken by the individual personally. Catherine cannot renounce the obligations of her name and irresponsibly reject the expectations placed on it, because she herself, in some depth of her personality, makes these demands on herself, takes upon herself the motto of eternal purity and ascends to the throne of her name, or, more precisely, feels herself sitting on it. Her pride seems to be a natural and necessary conclusion from her place in life; she cannot imagine the opposite, as it would be unbecoming to sit on the throne and try to see it only as a stool. This pride is not simple self-affirmation and malicious admiration for the ungifted, but a simple recognition of one’s inherent and inalienable right and duty. Hence, as a further conclusion, authority, as a habit of power and consciousness of legality, even of its position. Even further - here are the conclusions relating to such a bearer of power, already as a woman. Women's power is exercised by charm. Where it is associated with a special place and is presented as a legal right and duty, then charm should be based on something immediately visible and completely indisputable. Neither enchantment, nor the complexity of inner life, nor the subtle fragrance of personality would be suitable here, because all this is not for everyone, for evaluation it requires attention, taste and sensitivity, and finally, just time. Meanwhile, Catherine ontologically wants to appear immediately and undeniably as a sovereign person, and the slightest doubt about this would be intolerable to her magnificent pride. Its qualities must be clearly expressed, definite, generally understandable and therefore quite elementary. Speaking figuratively, Catherine’s charm should be designed for distance, for access to big society. And Catherine not only possesses this kind of qualities, but, having taken upon herself a high motto, she herself brings herself under them. Catherine, as a rule, is beautiful and, moreover, with a generally understandable healthy beauty, the essence of which is the presence of all the articles in their places. This is analytical beauty that can easily be told, proven and standardized. Above average height, dignified, with facial features that are not small, but rather large and defined, Ekaterina is immediately noticeable. In the same way - and her spiritual properties: intelligent, majestically calm and, somewhat, haughtily benevolent, sometimes kind, having enough taste and enough tact, Catherine will not put herself in a humiliating, funny or stupid position, and her qualities will not be so doubted that they are assessed immediately. True, this first recognition is no longer followed by a new, in-depth one, because her immediately visible qualities do not have deep roots into which one must look closely in order to appreciate them. Catherine is all visible from her first appearance, and wants to be like that. This impression is true: further knowledge of her will not destroy it. But at the same time it is complete: behind it nothing deeper will be revealed. Such an image cannot be called ostentatious, since it is not a deceptive guise; but this is a prominent image, the beauty of a tulip, which is all there, obvious, and then, with too close contact, it will turn out to be frozen, without internal play, monotonously beautiful and, somewhat, made. Catherine is not a coquette in the sense of deception and insincerity. But there is not enough play and play to be sincere; she hides nothing, and therefore she has nothing to reveal. She is all here, displayed on her elevation, with her obvious physical and mental qualities. But, carrying herself in life, she will try to take care of this obvious thing, the impression she makes, and will do this as a duty to her position, as a duty to her name. Not having the strength to be divinely pure, she will make such an appearance - that is, not as a deception, but with the same feeling with which “they do not wash dirty linen in public,” with which they do not notice the indecent or hush up awkwardness. Catherine considers it her duty to be as beautiful as possible, as intelligent as possible, as majestic as possible, and most importantly, impeccable, impeccable and noble. This is relatively easy for her, since she is elementary on the outside: the split between being and seeming does not painfully wound her heart, and seeming is not so far, according to her, from being. Therefore, she wants a sweepingly noble, somewhat demonstratively noble gesture, she will willingly make a magnanimous sacrifice, but again, out of consciousness of duty to the high position that obliges her, and bestowingly, from above. She will be emphatically truthful, approximately, with the flavor of a “ruling person incapable of deception,” and where she deems it necessary to instill proper decency, which in her opinion is missing, and the respect befitting herself, she will inflict verbal reprisals and put everyone in their place; but what is characteristic is her deep conviction in her right and duty. She does not scold and does not seek her own - she acts on behalf of justice itself, empowered by nothing other than the indisputable, objective truth. She is so convinced, and she will never admit, at least to herself, the possibility and her interest, and even more so, a possible mistake. She is only disinterested, fair and correctly evaluates things: if she occupies or claims to occupy a special place in society, then this is solely by virtue of her right, her charm, and finally, as a result of her duty to be in a chosen place. And therefore, her denunciation, or rather, a severe reprimand, receives the weight of unshakable confidence in the rightness, and words, even the most biased and erroneous, insofar as they can be, although less often, such, sound like the voice of directness, cutting truthfulness and indignant indignation. As a strong nature and without internal contradictions and complications, Catherine has no internal delays in her immediate movements. She is hot, in addition, she allows herself to be hot and even warms it up in herself with the consciousness of her being right. That is why, when she, leaving calm grandeur and some important slowness, moves on to accusatory words, they are passionate and angry; then this outbreak passes, but not anger, and Catherine will never, or at least for a very long time, forget the real or imaginary injustice that outraged her and, on occasion, will remind her of it with harsh truthfulness, although sometimes without taking revenge in deed, but without failing to make a gesture of renunciation of revenge, and thus, trying to take revenge morally. But, bearing for years the injustice caused, Catherine does this not as remembering her evil, but as unable to come to terms with the injustice that objectively exists in the world. Everywhere let principle, law and truth prevail, of which Catherine considers herself the guardian. But, also, someone else’s insult touches Catherine to the quick, and she ardently intervenes in the matter. However, the assessment of other people's rights by Catherine, who considers herself, and then everyone close to her, and everything connected with her, is not always impartial, and under such conditions cannot be impartial, although Catherine herself identifies herself with the Goddess Justice, whose eyes are blindfolded. This tendency to powerfully stand up for trampled truth and unquestioning judgments, as if Catherine actually had the power to judge and decide such matters, leads her to sharp clashes with those around her, despite her impressiveness, which the majority involuntarily takes into account. However, Catherine forces self-respect and goes beyond the boundaries of what is allowed by others. In ordinary circumstances, when Ekaterina does not feel offended in her dignity, when she recognizes herself as a mistress and everything around her goes according to established order, Ekaterina is easy in relationships, friendly and helpfully pays attention to those around her. Life with her goes smoothly and, somewhat, festively. Catherine, by her character, is characterized by cheerful gaiety: St. Gregory of Nyssa also wrote that chastity is characterized by something cheerful, τι γαληνόν. But, in addition, Catherine considers it decent for herself to maintain cheerfulness and evenness, as companions of her dignity and the friendliness of the hostess. If only out of pride alone, she will not want to let loose and take on a whining tone. She is characterized by vital activity and, even if it is stupid, Catherine will not be idle. But there is no fussiness here - a pointless waste of energy by an organism that has lost self-regulation. When the time comes to take some new and relatively responsible action, Catherine will not be at a loss: she will weigh the circumstances, soberly, but without delving into long-term consequences, and quickly and clearly determine her plan. In such cases, Catherine is decisive and enterprising, but, as in everything else, she keeps to the golden mean and, without being superficial, does not go into depth. Catherine is the first among many and smart among mediocrity, as well as kind, compared to the majority around her. It does not have sharpness and complexity and does not want to have it, its advantages and disadvantages are elementary and generally understandable - increased qualities of the average person. She, as has been said, is and wants to be the first of the majority, a sovereign person over the average people - a typical princess or queen of a lubok, or folk tale; figuratively speaking, she eats the same porridge and slurps the same cabbage soup as everyone around her, but she pours not one, but two, even three spoons of lard into the porridge, and in the cabbage soup she takes a piece of meat several times larger than those around her. This is clear to everyone. And in this they are ready to see both a fair tribute to her merits and an advantage that rightly demands recognition and honor. But aristocracy, as a qualitative difference from the average person, exclusivity and - its other side - foolishness, are deeply alien to her. And she, therefore, is easily accepted as a mistress and feels in her place here. There may, however, be rare cases when someone around you becomes indignant or insolent, or shows insufficient respect. Then Catherine will flare up and, in the firm conviction of her right, angrily provide decisive opposition, which is also quite understandable to those around her. But with any routine procedure, surprises and extraordinary circumstances are possible. Then Catherine is able to show heroism and even rise above the somewhat elementary circle of her ideas about purity, and also show decisiveness, unexpectedly disturbing the way of thinking about her on the part of those around her. Very, even excessively, considering their opinion of herself, and painfully sensitive to it, Catherine is too proud to admit this not only to others, but also to herself. Therefore, when, for internal or external reasons, she needs to do something that could spoil her glory, or, in her exaggerated opinion, leading to that, she not only does what she considers necessary, but emphasizes her action and her independence. She flaunts public opinion of herself, and flaunts it precisely because she takes it into account too much, she does not doubt its fairness and knows that she herself, from the outside, would think exactly the same thing. However, Catherine in vain looks down on those around her and cuts them down, thinking that they will not be able to take a broader view than she herself and understand what is misunderstood by her. In its emphasized purity, it overestimates negative virtues and it mistakenly seems indisputable and self-sufficiently precious to it that which is valuable only under certain conditions. Therefore, while taking a heroic step in her own consciousness, by which she breaks out of the vicious circle of her purity, she tends to exaggerate the degree of this heroism and makes a tragedy where in fact there is only material for vaudeville. The name Dmitry or, in a more accurate church pronunciation, Dimitri, comes from the same name, but divine: the chaetonic goddess Demeter, Mother Earth (Γή Μήτηρ) or, according to another explanation, the Mother of Barley (Δή Μήτηρ) is reflected in Dmitry by her name. Whether the adjective δημήτριος has a possessive meaning – Demetrius – or a qualitative meaning – Demetrian – in this case, is almost indifferent. In fact, a person’s belonging to God cannot be only external, without the presence in this person of qualities corresponding to those given to God, just as the existence of such qualities cannot be understood as mere similarity, but not an ontological connection between the image and the prototype, the ectype and the prototype. Consequently, the ancients, calling someone Dmitry, meant to correlate him with Demeter. Such a desire is understandable to all human beings; but it seems especially understandable in Christianity, where the appearance of Demeter was finally formed, and the qualities of this spiritual make-up received a predominant assessment. This is a peaceful goddess and unusually meek and kind, she breathes maternal love for the entire human race, and in her motherhood the principle is not spontaneous, and not even birth, but moral, affection and deep silence. The horrors of the underworld and tragic death pass by the image of Mother Earth. The myth shows Demeter as the most humane of the celestial beings; the warmth and affection, later revealed by Christianity, in antiquity had their nest precisely under its cover. It is not without reason that the image of the Mother of God, the Intercessor and Warm Representative, appeared to humanity as the fulfillment of its premonitions and quests precisely around Demeter. Indeed, in Dmitry his connection with the earth, and through the earth - with the Earth-Mother, is very clearly reflected. But as much as the first is obvious and expressed, the second lives in him, like the subtlest taste, and, mainly, in childhood. Rather, even the motherhood of the Earth hovers around Dmitry and is vaguely dreamed of by him, like a cherished and dear, but almost lost shrine of childhood. This is a secret and hidden not only from the eyes of others, but almost from one’s own, hope: kindness, silence and meek tranquility, shining like one heavenly image from the depths of one’s own being, to which there is no access, about which one cannot say, everything is so dark there, except for this cherished star, but which, however, actually exists, and - the time will come - will turn out to be everything. But to do this, one must descend to it, into the bottomlessness of oneself, se ipsum transendere - and perhaps the latter is nothing other than death. And so, until that time, it is prudent to remain silent about the motherhood of the earth, concealing this knowledge within oneself, and live and act for others - with the earth as an element. Dmitry is torn away from the Earth and tramples on it, filled with power, with the pressure of which he does not know what to do. The son of the Earth - he lives like the son of dust. Departing from the Mother, he is deprived of her meekness, her peace, her goodness, because he does not have her integrity; all this, as it is said, goes into the deep dungeons of his soul and lives there with the secret memory of the lost paradise of his childhood and the sweet hope that sooner or later, after all the rebellions and wanderings, he will return to humility. But, Dmitry, not having the integrity of the Earth, and in his rebellion retains the elemental basis of the Mother, and carries her forces within himself, but without her moral character, without the integrity by which these forces are balanced and brought into harmony. He is the son of the Earth and the earth itself, in a riot of disproportionate and opposing attractions. Dmitry has a significant character and overall appearance, in some of his capabilities, often exceeding the measure of humanity and even humanity. But the outward manifestation and consolidation of this immensity in life is often hampered by him himself, in other words, by equally immeasurable desires. This is a nature with powerful inclinations, but extremely inconsistent with each other, inharmonious, with sharp angles and all sorts of surprises. In the instability of Constantine there is the capriciousness and whimsical randomness of water, changing its color and surface from the slightest external causes: thus, deep lakes, surrounded by mountains, peaceful and azure, suddenly, almost without a perceptible reason, darken, become covered with lambs and sink the boat that has trusted them, only to sparkle again with golden sparkles half an hour later. On the contrary, Dmitry’s unevenness is of a completely different kind, they depend on even less perceptible, but internal reasons and rather resemble earthquakes in a volcanic area and the eruption of an unexpectedly erupted volcano. This is some kind of Iceland, where rocky soil can disintegrate anywhere, a stream of steam can erupt, or molten lava can pour out in a fiery stream. There is no peace here, because everything is shaking with internal efforts, which, however, do not have a specific goal and delay each other - which makes the tension even greater. Perhaps Dmitry’s awareness of his immense power would not have been so alarming if an easier, more coordinated outlet for his passions had been provided. And the passions themselves, despite their undeniable significance, also, perhaps, would not have been so explosive and heavy if they had not prevented [each other] from pouring out. But the fact of the matter is that Dmitry is complex in his passion and does not have a main passion that would direct and lead all the others. True, this complexity of his internal structure, where passions are supported by passions and drives collide with drives, makes Dmitry to a certain extent more tolerant in society and saves him both from high positions and positions, and from prison; but his external endurance is bought at the price of Dmitry’s inner unpeace and danger, first of all, to himself. He is passionate, and his passions are not superficial attractions and hobbies, without which it is quite easy to imagine this or that person, but deep ones, rooted in the layers of his personality that are unexplored to him, from where they find their way into consciousness as completely ready and unconditional. However, despite passion, from which in the ordinary consciousness ardor and this or that brilliance are inseparable, the fiery principle is extremely alien to Dmitry; and, if we talk about the burning intensity of his desires, then this is a dark heat, without flame and light, a kind of black fire, destructive, but seeming blacker than the surrounding darkness. Dmitry's passions are not joyful and sweet, even if only for a short time; these are heavy and compulsory impulses, blindly following their path, just as the products of an eruption come out of a crater. In these passions there is no sign of not only lightness, but also frivolity; I would like to compare them, rather, with painful convulsions. And Dmitry’s very personality resembles a picture of a former eruption, with piled-up frozen streams of black lava, scattered with volcanic bombs or shifting volcanic ash; not motherhood, but convulsions of the earth's crust. Dmitry is proud, a pride that passes through all layers of his personality, from deep self-affirmation to self-love on the very surface with which he comes into contact with people. This pride entails directness and truthfulness, however, not that genuine, free-flowing directness that makes relationships easy, but self-imposed coercion and strain that forces others to prefer in this case simple silence and vagueness: Dmitry so difficult for himself to spew out of himself - so as not to seem embellished - his truth, that the interlocutor, most often, does not know where to go from it. Secretive and not even transparent to himself in his depths, Dmitry tears out his confessions from himself, unwillingly and forcefully on himself. Out of pride, he would like to take no account of those around him and, in any case, not allow them to become equal to himself. But, out of pride, he will not allow himself to be humiliated by injustice and will not allow himself that internal movement along which he is naturally drawn. He places himself too high above those around him, or, more precisely, he does not allow the thought of comparing himself with them to such an extent that, for the sake of this, he avoids the opportunity to let others or himself think that he equates himself with them, at least in the struggle for primacy and, in general, for a place in the world. This forces him, despite his innate tendency to gloom, to overcome himself and try to be friendly. But, in addition to this self-regulator of his pride, he also has another essential passion, or a whole spectrum of passions, which, in its essence, fights in its manifestations with manifestations of pride. This is, precisely, sensuality, taking this word, first of all, in the literal sense, and then broadly, in relation to all types of tenacity for the world from its material side. Dmitry is attached to food and drink, to luxurious surroundings, he is inclined to value external honor, and therefore, both out of pride and sensuality, he wants money, which gives both power and various material satisfactions. But just as his pride has internal inhibition, so here too, sensuality fights with greed, and revelry with stinginess. Either these attractions simply delay each other, and then Dmitry drags out a colorless existence, torn apart inside by dissatisfaction. Then, from time to time, this mutual inhibition of passions is violated, and then one of these drives takes possession of the personality for a period of time, to which Dmitry surrenders, knowing neither internal nor external measures, without restraint and neglecting any laws, rather, not even neglecting them, but rebelling against them and trampling, with triumph, the elements that have broken free. Nothing will stop him here: neither cruelty, although he is well aware of what he is doing, nor ugliness, although he has the subtlest and naturally impeccable taste. On the contrary, other people’s suffering and all sorts of indecency give him cruel satisfaction, without which he would not feel fulfilled in his passion. This is a difficult start for Dmitry. There is a good weight of things, like an attraction to one’s native depths, and it binds the Earth and what is on it together. No matter how contradictory it may be to say about it, the epithet light suggests itself for it: light weight. The pull of the earth pulls and this makes it easy. Thus, the oak tree rises reliably and elastically precisely because it is firmly held by the earth. So, isn’t this feeling of lightness when drawn to the earth explained by the reliable roots of our being in the bowels of the earth, from which we have not separated and therefore boldly rise into the air towards the light? But there is another thrust, the heavy weight of a block, separated from the earth, but not completely losing its earthly nature and therefore striving back. This is not a rise, but a fall, an invariable fall, constraining both the falling one and all those who come across his path. Dmitry, earthly and earthly, is heavy in the latter sense, and his internal movements occur with tightness, just as blocks of stone are tossed and turned in geological processes and heavy layers of rocks are bent into folds. It’s hard for Dmitry – he himself and his entire inner life, but it’s even more hard for others. The dull, unexplained and unexplained burden presses, and with sharp, hard corners Dmitry crushes under himself whoever he rolls into in his incorrect and full of unexpected turns movement. Crushing or tearing those he meets, Dmitry feels satisfaction - but not evil, but from the awareness of his weight, and therefore his strength. There is something in him from primitive times, not the beginnings of human history, but the antediluvian creations of the earth, almost fused with the earth in their being, but torn away from it by will and consciousness and having lost their filial reverence for it. This heaviness of Dmitry makes him generally difficult in everyday relationships, and their immediate inhibition is echoed by the painful expectation of a jam that could arise every minute and for subtle reasons. This may be unexpected but severe and long-lasting anger or poorly motivated insult, or, more often than not, a seemingly causeless, sullen silence that can last for any length of time, even months or years. Here, with the very formation of this jam, nothing can be found out, nothing can be agreed upon; on the contrary, any attempts at explanation will only complicate the matter, inducing gloomy suspicion and wordless persistence. It is prudent, in such cases, not to look for words, but to leave the resulting jam to itself, and then there is hope that it will resolve, albeit slowly. This heaviness of Dmitry, together with his internal inhibition, serves as an obstacle to the full disclosure and implementation of his abilities in culture: Dmitry is gifted significantly above average. He is smart, although his mind is more inclined to decompose than to build; has a taste that comes not from training in the relevant areas, but from the belly, and is akin to the biological instinct of beauty, with which he is intoxicated; there is a lot of clarity of thought in him, partly derived from deep pride - in general, his thought, although not fast, is full-fledged and meaningful. Dmitry has a sense of culture and a sense of nature, an interest in life in its various manifestations. What he does has its own sonority and value; it is never sluggish, whether it belongs to the category of big or small. But pride forces Dmitry to demand more from himself than he is capable of, and, realizing his insufficiency for this, he prefers to completely abstain from what he is capable of. On the other hand, its heaviness easily turns into heaviness for lifting; It is difficult for Dmitry to get ready to make an attempt and he is too ponderous to dare to take many risky steps, from which nothing may come of it. Purely from everyday life, he will not refuse risk if this risk is given without difficulty, by predatory farming and, especially, when it in itself gives rise to destructive passions; but labor effort, despite Dmitry’s power, is hostile to him, and sure success is required for Dmitry to force himself to take on such a task. Saint Demetrius, as stated at the beginning, is from the Mother Earth and is hidden deep within her. “Then the Bride, now hidden by the earth, will appear, and being revealed, will be revealed,” foreshadows the future restoration of the creation in the third Book of Ezra 388. This prediction warms Dmitry’s soul, and if he does not know it from the Book of Ezra, then it comes to him with his mind or, more precisely, with his heart. He is not a knight of this Bride, partly because he does not recognize himself as worthy of such a title and avoids, even within himself, getting too close to her. But it is she, precisely, and not anyone else who lives in consciousness as the meaning of his own existence. And it is through her that he relates to God. Dmitry is deeply rooted in being, and therefore rationalism, which always points to the surface of mental life, is alien to him; if Dmitry uses this kind of thinking techniques, it is only when communicating with others and for the sake of others, avoiding revealing his inner world to them. In himself, he thinks differently and despises the cheapness of rationalism. That is why rationalistic atheism does not tempt him. Yes, out of pride alone he would not have taken this path: in the rational denial of the Eternal there is something deeply humiliating, some kind of humiliation of oneself, some kind of renunciation of one’s dignity - a powerless slave rebellion. Dmitry will not agree to this. But his self-awareness is like that of a willful, disobedient son, who recognizes his father in the depths of his soul, respects him and feels and secretly appreciates his filial connection with him, however, shuddered by impulses and internal shocks that are little understood by him, he disobeys his father. He is even closer to his mother, partly because with a lighter heart he does not obey her demands and comes to her again as if he had not done wrong. And this irresponsibility towards his mother keeps him, despite all the disturbing forces, in the orbit of family ties. Through his mother he also approaches his father. There is no childish gullibility and openness here: this is a somewhat gloomy, somewhat self-abusive approach, which combines the consciousness of one’s guilt, and the fear of a real breakup, and an incomplete desire to come to terms, and the inability to understand one’s own contradictory forces, and many other exciting feelings. This is not an innocent attitude towards the father, but it is not a denial of his power either. Dmitry knows that God is the Father, but he does not approach Him in a completely filial manner, and therefore, he perceives in Him more His truth than love, His holiness - than affection, His power - than pity. Dmitry knows the Providence that dominates the world, but he feels it primarily as an eternal, unchanging law, as a fair charter of existence, and therefore he feels Providence fatalistically. “I will rebel because I rebel, but my fate, and all the consequences, and proper retribution are already written in heaven,” Dmitry thinks. And he rebels and commits sin as inevitable and irremovable, and in advance, with proud submission, accepts punishment, also as inevitable, although no one tells him about it: to himself, in heavy pride, he appointed a punishment, which he will not bargain about and which he takes upon himself, as he considers, excessive against his guilt. Everyone remembers the life of St. The Great Martyr Barbara is one of, in general, the most remembered in the general consciousness, one of the most developed in art. The extraordinary upbringing of the Martyr, who was imprisoned by her father in a secluded tower since childhood; not externally motivated refusal of marriage; dreamy reflections about the entire universe, visible, however, only from the tower window; inflexibility before the father, as strong as it does not have any convincing grounds; imperious confidence in what was decided, including the spitting of idols in the father’s house that was not caused by anything external; three windows, an image of the Holy Trinity, built at the insistent command of the maiden in the tower where she lived; an abundance of miracles, the most extraordinary, amazing beauty and extraordinary, in terms of abundance of torture, martyrdom, along with the furious bitterness of the father, who wanted to personally execute his daughter, who, at his insistence, was tortured; the sweet dying vision of Christ as the beloved Bridegroom; finally, the grace asked of God is to be delivered from unexpected death by all those who remember the martyrdom of St. Barbarians, and the complex, adventurous fate of her remains - these are some of the features of this vivid and very peculiar life. At first glance, the attempt of rationalistic hagiographers to undermine the historicity of the narrative about the life of Barbara the Martyr, the Bride of Christ, seems very incomprehensible; There are also those to whom everything in her life seems doubtful, except only the very existence of the saint of this name, and even that is unreliable. This is not the place to point out the literary inconsistency of these criticisms, and they would not be worth mentioning if some conventional truth were not felt behind them, however, relating not to the historical reliability of the life, but to some flavor of its content. Barbara the Martyr has long been surrounded by a thick blanket of poetic and pictorial sighs, and her image served as a grateful theme for creations in which their authors wanted to say or present something extremely poetic and heavenly sublime. Later Baroque, like the movement around Pre-Raphaelism, equally used this name when they tried, somewhat irresponsibly, to show the world what they saw as superflu 389. And, indeed, they moved here along the line of least resistance. The Life of Varvara the Martyr, extraordinary, vivid and poetic, takes these properties to the final limit, after which a breakdown is very close. A little more, and the legend turns from bright to flowery, from beautiful to poetic, a little in the Polish way, from subtle to pretentious. All this is not in the life, and the legend would not have suggested such thoughts if not for an involuntary parody of it; but, nevertheless, there are also those who are too tender, and in themselves full of artistic elegance, so that their further decoration does not turn out to be close to sweetness. The same is true for sacred images: some are strong and firmly standing on the ground; it is difficult to make them dreamy, even maliciously. Others are the opposite: airy and having nothing in common with the earth, they do not tolerate intoxicated touches, even with reverence, and easily disappear, leaving an elegant dream in their hands. Both the image and the life of Varvara the Martyr are already so full of poetry, in themselves, meaning poetry in a narrow and somewhat conventional sense, that poetry, in the same sense, has nothing further to do; this life is itself like a poem, and a poem about it will already be overloaded with poetry. Along with the life and icon of the Martyr, poetic fiction and paintings on the same topic are intolerable, and taking them on means creating too cheaply, off-the-shelf. It is this elegance of the life that hagiographers seem to vaguely sense when the life itself is assessed as poetic fiction. But there is life that resembles a novel, just as there is fate - one might say, a tragedy with all three unities. Both of these, however, do not testify against the existence of a person who lived such a life or suffered such a fate. And, at the same time, the researcher would not be wrong if he noted the similarity of this life and this fate with a novel or tragedy and, perhaps, even more accurately defined their style and analyzed their artistic construction. When encountering this kind of reality, the impression of its isolation from everything around it, its peculiar isolation from the general structure of all life, is inevitable. Likewise, the life of Barbara the Martyr has a flavor of poetic fiction and isolation from historical soil. But this only testifies to the peculiar spiritual constitution of the Martyr herself, but does not in the least undermine the factuality of the legend itself. Indeed, this life is luxuriously un-Hellenic, although Varvara’s father is called Hellenic in the life. But the action unfolds in Egypt, namely, in Iliopolis, the flavor of the entire life is oriental, just like the characters of Dioscorus and Barbara herself are adamant, without Hellenic courtesy, passionate and persistent, immeasurable and unyielding. All this is clearly barbaric, just like the unexpected, clearly proselytizing fanaticism of idolatry in the 4th century (!), which did not appeal to the tired and skeptical Hellenes of the 4th century. It is safe to say that Dioscorus was named Hellene because he wanted to be known as such and was just as much a barbarian. And, finally, there were reasons why the only daughter of a rich and influential father was named such an unsuitable and unpleasant name for a real Greek woman as Varvara, that is, barbarian. Locked in a harem, how little she resembles a Greek girl of the 4th century, during and in her homeland 390 And her thoughts about who created the world, described in detail in the life, her questions about this to those around her and their absurd answer that the world was created by marble, wooden, silver and gold idols located in her father’s chambers - is all this really anything like Greek life, permeated through and through with myths that everyone knew from early childhood, and could a Greek really teach such nonsense that idols are the very gods. Saint Barbara was too inexperienced in pagan mythology and too untouched by pagan religion not to suspect intentionality on the part of her father in this isolation of her from pagan life. On the other hand, she too easily reached the knowledge of the One True God with her mind so as not to assume favorable conditions in the house that prepared such a discovery. And, finally, her character, so similar to her father’s, and their very place of residence, in Iliopolis, not far from Alexandria (where there was an ancient Jewish colony). Simply put, this barbarian, her father, was not an Alexandrian Jew, rich and influential, who, like other Alexandrian Jews, had largely abandoned strict Judaism and tried too zealously to assimilate into the Greco-Roman environment? Then his anger at his daughter’s refusal to all suitors is understandable, especially since they were noble and rich. On the other hand, his jealousy of the pagan faith would seem unexpected, after he himself removed his daughter from pagan-religious upbringing and participation in the religious life of paganism, if it were not for the assumption that it was not a matter of paganism as such, but a passionate hatred of Christianity. In Barbara the Martyr, one usually notices her dreaminess, her detachment from life, her Bride of Christ. But her persistence, her inflexibility in what she accepted, her insistence on what she wanted, all this is hushed up. That is why her image, strong in life and not at all sweet, rather, on the contrary, stern and somewhat harsh, becomes muslin and pseudo-poetic in secular art. Barbarians follow the path of Varvara, but, without reaching her responsible and therefore risky heights, they easily distort this image in themselves. But, however, even with all the distortions, the features of the martyr are clearly visible in them, crumpled and not achieving the cherished goal; hence the difficulty of this name both for its bearers and for those around them: this image is not one of those that can be realized gradually and developed to one degree or another. He either succeeds completely, or he breaks down and gives something completely wrong; One cannot be only approximately a Barbara Martyr. Two main traits characterize Barbara; and their combination determines the uniqueness of this name. One trait is passionate inflexibility, the other is dreaminess. Like the Martyr, every Varvara cuts herself off from the life around her, and, seeing, does not see it. She does not take life soberly, because she has no real contact with it, looking at it from some window and from a tower height, admiring it like a stranger and does not want to delve into life as it really is. Varvara, instead, dreams beyond life and has the will to pursue this dream. Ordinary reality seems to her too small and unworthy of her attention. She is tasteless in comparison with the sublime subject of Varvara’s dream, and Varvara, trusting only herself, closes her eyes when the opportunity arises to test the reliability of her dream, those beautiful, but vague and by no means proven ideas that she has formed for herself about certain people and circumstances of life. She pushes away completely clear evidence against these ideas with imperious indignation, not allowing them to reach either her consciousness or her heart. No matter who it is who encroaches on the vague images of her dreams, she will not listen, even if it is a person close to her, who obviously loves her and cares about her. And she holds this line the more firmly, the more inflexibly she leads her thought along the predetermined path, the less in the reality she has chosen there is data for surrounding her with this shell of inhuman perfections or, less often, exaggerated shortcomings. Smart by nature, Varvara, perhaps even better than her interlocutor, understands the true state of affairs; but precisely because she, foreseeing where these objections will lead her, does not want to listen to them, because she has already made her decision. She decided to create her dream in exactly this way, and she will not retreat from it until the false thought and false image into which she invested all her rich talents and the immensity of her indomitable energy - until this false path leads her to the tragic collapse of all life circumstances, a catastrophe in which the illusion will be exposed. But this will also happen only because Varvara will internally exhaust herself in the constant struggle against the evidence of reality itself and at some point she will push off the idol of her long prayers and denigrate him as someone who allegedly deceived her, although it would be more fair for her to blame her own stubbornness. This idol can be very different, but the pattern of Varvara’s relationship to it always remains the same. Having cut herself off from life, Varvara inevitably loses those adjustments of humility that are given through living contact with people and, in general, with reality. She does not know the school of life, she receives neither saving blows nor obvious indications that she is wrong. A dream is dangerous because, too soft, it always fits our passions, weaknesses and delusions, and we, testing ourselves only with a dream, which, as a subjective one, cannot help but pass through us, we learn to think of ourselves as perfection, which in no way deviates from the norm - and it is always tempting to recognize our dream, as a reflection of subjectivity, as a measure of truth, which seems to us so flattering. Living in a dream, Varvara begins to dream about herself. In her detachment from life, she sees her exclusivity in a good sense, her chosenness. Hence the contempt for ordinary life. Speaking figuratively: suitors, even rich and noble ones, are too insignificant for her, she needs something completely special. But this is not really special, although Varvara is usually given more than many others under similar circumstances. Then Varvara compensates for the lack of a special person with a dreamy image of him and dresses him in a living legend of a random person or some life circumstances that, in one way or another, gave her the idea that this is where the point of application for already prepared dreams is appropriate. This could be a fiance, or children, or people being benefited and a business undertaken, family well-being, or something else. Passionate by nature and, moreover, full-bodied and somewhat rude in her passion, one might say, heavy, Varvara can make an idol for herself out of instincts that are clearly questionable, but at the same time, in her own mind, she will certainly decorate them with a heroic aura, a higher duty or a sacred sanction. Groom, husband, children, home, this or that matter - in Varvara’s mind, that which has become the subject of her legend can no longer be compared with that of other people, it is exclusive, exceeds all measures, painted either black or white. And therefore, in achieving the goals associated with this chosen idol, nothing should stand in the way: otherwise it will be mixed, and here no requests are an obstacle to Varvara. Usually immersed in her dreams and absent, even sleepy, she suddenly awakens and is able to rush like a lioness towards an obstacle. She can be here, in defending her own, rude, cruel towards those who would become an obstacle. Her persistence will be iron, and neither respect, nor duty, nor pity, nor the bonds of love will stop her when she is possessed by this obsession with a dream. She is poorly aware of what is happening around her and walks, in her own way, in complete hypnosis. That is why she does not bother verbally defending the decision made and does not even try to prove that she is right. Something has already been decided in her; silently and meekly, as it can be understood from the outside, she is carried away by the power that controls her towards the abyss. But in fact, this attitude of hers is not meekness, but rather indifference and indifference to everything around her, now hateful and alien to her. Her decision, no matter how its external outcome plays out, is a breakdown within itself, because Varvara recognizes it as not leading to a prosperous existence at all. Varvara, no matter what happens to her outwardly, dooms herself to death and, according to her secret feeling, is moving towards disaster. This may not actually turn out to be the case, but then, after some time, Varvara will still, through some internal twist, re-assimilate this consciousness. However, more often than not, Varvara’s fate is truly catastrophic, and the denouement is laid by Varvara’s own hands, by her own zeal to build a dream for herself and forcibly implements it into life, as if the dream itself were a true reality. Varvara’s strong, imperious, ponderously passionate, unyielding and self-confident disposition makes this pursuit of her dream not a funny oddity, as it could easily become under other circumstances, but a persistent desire that draws into its whirlpool many others associated with Varvara. This is not a languid fantasy of the impossible, but an act of will, full of determination and concentrated heat. For the sake of her dream, Varvara can break with everything familiar to her, near and dear, with the most precious thing she has, and do it silently and with restraint. There are also frequent breaks with the parental home and with parents, on the basis of love and passion. And, however, parents are here much more right than their daughter, rightly not seeing in the chosen one her incredible heroism and enlightened greatness, and therefore, not putting themselves in the need to subsequently bleed from a broken heart, when the hero does not turn out to be a hero, and the bright genius fades before the gaze that awarded him with inhuman brilliance. In the consciousness of all peoples, Christian as well as, probably, non-Christian ones, the name Paul is inseparable from the Apostle of languages; with exceptional force he coined this name in accordance with his personality, and among the names, perhaps, one cannot find another that is so closely associated with a specific bearer of it. This difficulty in considering the name Paul independently of the Apostle Paul is further facilitated by the fact that throughout history there has not appeared a bearer of this name who is at least approximately equivalent to the Apostle, and all historical Pauls become discolored before the personality of the Apostle and slip away from memory. Almost any other name is presented in history in a completely different way: there are always several representatives of it, approximately of the same historical weight, and a number of smaller ones, but not negligible compared to the first. Thus, the history of the name Paul begins with the Apostle. Was his name the Roman name Paulus, as is usually understood, or was the Roman name adopted as consonant with some Hebrew one; or, finally, the name Paul only in later consciousness, by play on words, began to be equated with the Roman one, but did not contain this similarity initially, in the thought of the Apostle himself - these difficult historical and philological questions, no matter how they are resolved, are not capable of changing the main essence of the matter, namely, that the name Paul, the one that lives and acts in the Christian world, is a spiritual organism received through grafting, and its main formative principle is not from the Roman name Paulus, but from the original name of the Apostle himself, that is, from Saul. This is another question: what change, what shade, what turn, what recrystallization was introduced into the name Saul or Saul by his transformation into Paul; but the basic knowledge of the name of the Apostle is given by penetration into the name of Saul. Historically, neither the motives nor the meaning of the renaming of the Apostle are recognized as unknown. However, it is most likely that the Apostle was called by the name Paul both before his conversion, along with Saul, and subsequently, only put forward and emphasized the first. There are even indications of the etymological identity of both names, and Paul or, more precisely, Paul is only a dialectological or provincial pronunciation of the name Saul. If this is so, then the assertion made is strongly confirmed; but the negative result of historical and philological research, if it were established, still does not overturn the onomatological fact of the mutual unification in the name of the Apostle of two forces, of which Saul is the original and predetermining one. So, what is Saul, originally Saul, or Shaul. The etymology of this last name was given ambiguously: this, naturally, is not only due to the extreme antiquity of the name, but, as will become clear later, this is due to the very essence of the spiritual form of Saul. But, nevertheless, almost all explanations correlate the name Saul with the concept of desire, aspiration, attraction, and they differ (according to the current understanding) as to whether in this case this concept should be interpreted subjectively or objectively, i.e., whether Saul means the desirer or the desired. But this disagreement is only apparent, because in the ancient ontological worldview the sign of a thing as an object, being in itself, thereby also has the meaning of subjective characteristics. The thinkable, that is, that which is capable of being the subject of thought, thereby possesses thought, according to the axiom: “The eye and what it sees are one and the same thing.” It is impossible to separate the subjective attribute from the objective attribute. Therefore, it is necessary to foresee in advance the power of desire in that which has the ability to be desired: this is so, at least, in universal human thought. That is why one must be prepared in advance to encounter in different onomatologies, and even in the same onomatologist, both subjective and objective illumination of the name Saul. Further, the concept of desire can be taken in its consequences and particular manifestations. Thus, desire can be, in particular, a temptation, and what is desired can be an object of amazement, of being set apart from everything else. These and similar particulars in the interpretation, of course, do not change its basis - the concept of desire. Of the many interpretations, here are a few, according to Blessed Jerome, in different places, collected by de Lagarde: “Saul expetitus nel abu tenus - Saul is desired”; “Saul petito - Saul trying to get, harassment, Saul petito sine expetitus dicitur - Saul means effort or desire”; “Saulus tentatio respicientis nel saturitas - Saul is a test of one who has care or satiety”; It’s remarkable that exactly the same explanations are given by the blessed one. Jerome about the name Paul: “Paulus mirabilis sine electus – Paul the wondrous or chosen.” This identity must be taken into account to the fullest extent, for Jerome, being brought up in Latin culture, would seem quite natural to identify the name of the Apostle with the Roman name Paulus and explain it as a synonym for Parvus, small; and on the other hand, Blessed Jerome had his information directly from the living rabbinical tradition of Palestine and, obviously, had to receive strong instructions regarding the etymology of the name in question in order to sacrifice the natural course of his thought. In other ancient interpretations, the names Saul and Paul are also etymologically similar to each other and are given with the same basic meanings. The Glossarie olbertianae states: “Σαύλος διώκτης”, “Σαούλ αίτημα”. In Onomasticon Vaticanum: “Σαούλ ητημἒνος” – “Σαούλ αίτητός ή κεχρημένος”; in parallel to this: “Παύλος στόμα σαλοϊσμοϋ η θαυμαστός η εκλεκτός”, although there is also an interpretation in the Latin sense, namely: “Παύλος άνάπαυσις, ελάχιστος"; Finally, in Onomasticon Coislianum “Παύλος θαυμαστός ή εκλεκτός σύμβουλος - in the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 13:9), in relation to the Apostle, there is a formula Σαϋλος ό και Παύλος 391. As is known, this phrase ό και, equivalent to the Latin qui et, - also known as , - equates two names as referring to one person. This turn means approximately the same as the turn ό καλούμἒνος, called, as evidenced by Thomas of Hercules and, in particular, in relation to the name Saul, the text of Acts 392. Thus, Saul had previously, probably since childhood, also been called Paul. However, the combination of these two names was not a personal feature of the Apostle, his nickname: in Syria and in the eastern parts of Asia Minor, the existence of the personal name Paul was established among the Jews of the dispersion, which confirms its Semitic etymology. It is remarkable that in the well-known libel on the Gospel “Toldof Yeshu” the name Paul is connected with the Hebrew verb - פעל - pa'al - he worked, while it would be natural to wait here, for the complete humiliation of the Apostle, Latin etymology and, according to its goyism, in general, and in meaning in this case; Obviously, the latter is removed due to its direct clarity to the Jewish author - Jewish etymology. But both Saul and Paul, as Farrar notes, are passive participles; and therefore, this author thinks that the parallelism of both forms is intended to mark the transition from “sought” to “worked.” He believes that the true explanation for the double name lies here. More precisely, it is in the transition from “the one being sought” to “on whom the work is being done.” In any case, this explanation quite accurately conveys the main core of the self-awareness and preaching of the Apostle of Languages. But let us leave aside the historical and philological grounds on which both names come together. Undoubtedly onomatologically, they no longer live separately in history, and the existing name Paul spiritually contains the name Saul. And this last, in its main meaning, is recognized indisputably: Saul שאול Sha'ul - desired, petitus - begged (implied from God) Desire, etc. Whether it is the desire of the parents to bring him to life, or the desire of himself, as the will to live, this, of course, does not make a difference, since we are not talking about psychology on the surface of consciousness, but about the depth of the being, where the volitional force is no longer the own property of a given individual, but belongs to the clan, people, humanity, and goes deeper into the ocean of the fundamental will of the world. If each person is to be understood as the key of the world will, gradually becoming thinner as the vein rises from the reservoir of the existential fundamental principle common to all, then this is especially repeated about Paul. Moreover, this common feature of all names belongs to him as a specific one. In all names there is an outlet of the will to be; but not the outflow of the will itself, but the outlet, its composition, its structure, and finally, its frame, are characteristic here. On the contrary, Paul is, as it were, an accidental breakthrough of the earthly layers by an internal pressure, and the outlet in this name was made hastily and therefore, whatever it may be in itself, it is not in it that the spiritual form of Paul, as such, should be sought. And in himself, the representative of this name almost does not consider her, although this does not mean that he does not consider himself at all. But he is aware and feels himself not in the opening of the source and not in its structure, whatever it may be, but in the will that through him strives to pour out into the world. And again: in other names, the pressure of will can significantly exceed that of the one being analyzed. But there this pressure, no matter how powerful it is, is recognized by the person himself and is perceived by those around him as something incidental, in some way, accidental and, in any case, characterizing not so much the name as the given person and his personal circumstances. Here, that is, in Paul, this pressure of the will, even if insignificant in itself, is nevertheless taken as the main characteristic in the structure of the name, and everything else is given the price of secondary and derivative, if not simply accidental. Thus, the character of Paul should be understood as very easily communicating with the first principle of being. In other names, it is communicated by its output through many media, figuratively speaking, it flows into the world through long and winding channels: here, on the contrary, this communication occurs in the shortest way and does not encounter much friction. But from this comes the need for the hole itself to be adequately strong so as not to collapse under pressure on it. With mediocre communication with the fundamental will, the force of friction itself will retard the pressure, and the structure of the personality can be porous and loose, without instilling fears for the integrity of the personality. On the contrary, in Paul the material of the personality needs to be dense and strong, and all those Pauls in whom this was not the case are destroyed by the first onslaught of the deep will and simply cease to exist. This personality material is the mind, and Paul needs, in the form of self-preservation, to have a strong mind - or simply perish. In contrast to Vladimir, who mixed reason with the fundamental will and, therefore, does not feel its direct action, always spontaneously drunk, but never losing consciousness, Pavel feels the surf of the underground ocean too close to himself and within himself and understands too well the formidable greatness of its pressure to allow himself to play with the generative and formidable element. Vladimir, far from direct danger, continues to drink a glass. But Paul always feels himself on the edge of an all-consuming abyss, and recognizes himself as small and insignificant, small: he must either be completely sober and vigilant, or surrender to the tide. It may happen that this time the tide will not carry him away, and he will emerge from the elements only refreshed and renewed. But he has no reasonable grounds to count on integrity here. And therefore, every time he throws himself into this ocean with his eyes closed and counting on inevitable death. When this latter did not happen, they regard salvation as a miracle, as once again revealed help from higher powers, unexpected, incomprehensible and undeserved. So, no matter how many times this surrender of oneself to the formidable and yet dear, yet closest to him, elemental abyss is repeated: no matter how many times this surrender is repeated, it is always done with the determination of final death and complete dissolution in the world’s fundamental principle. Therefore, the preservation of integrity is also assessed every time as a fallen grace of God, as an unexpected gift. So, always living under the pressure of will, working under the high pressure of elemental forces in their primary, ugly and unmanifested power, Paul, through the roots, or, more precisely, the internal channels of his being, communicates with a region that certainly does not know any norms above itself and, in this sense, is immoral, but precisely because of this he knows and feels with his whole being the spiritual power that rushes over the primary abyss and is itself the design and enlightenment of chaos. Reason has only a service meaning here. Spontaneous pressure does not know abstract truth and abstract norms, which do not have the victorious power to show themselves and implement; spontaneous pressure knows neither morality, nor law, nor hygiene, nor prudence, nor calculations - it does not know norms at all, perhaps fair, but still abstract and invented by humanity for the sake of community life and the state. Paul's immediate self-awareness is desire, this pressure of the will, or, in Russian, it would be more accurate to say desire, in the sense of the Greek θέλημα; and therefore, everything that has been said about this pressure must be repeated about the self-awareness of the name being analyzed. This does not mean that Paul denies human truth, human law, νόμος, or fights with it: one can deny or fight only by standing on a common plane with what is being denied or suppressed, and trying to replace one truth with another, the law with another. But Paul, by his very being, stands at once both above and below this plane, and is simply indifferent to this, legal one, feeling neither love nor hatred for it, in general, treating it as someone else’s thing and internally not noticing it, i.e. that is, noting it to oneself only as a naked fact among other facts. There is no legalism in this name, in the sense of a desire to violate the legal order or go beyond the limits of human norms. And, generally speaking, he does not cross them, but not out of respect for these boundaries and not out of internal fear of crossing them. This probably happens because the norms themselves, at their core, are also not as random and external as humanity tends to think about them. But in the event that desire resists with its force, and heavenly power does not reject this movement, Paul quite calmly and not at all with a bad conscience, not as a transgressor of the law, will go his own way and overthrow the barriers of the law, without thinking about it and not even really noticing them. He will go beyond the boundaries of what is permitted by human law with the same self-awareness as he would walk within it. But vice versa: an insurmountable obstacle, like an angel with a fiery sword, can easily stand in the way of his desires or actions - and not only permissible and legal, but even, according to human judgment, the most praiseworthy. A sacred taboo constantly stands in his path, blocking his attempted movement, although this taboo, according to human law, appears to be the most ordinary stone; Paul glances at the boundary pillars of law, morality and other norms with an indifferent glance and, when he sees the need for it, bypasses them. Paul's range is quite extensive; but good or bad, holy or sinful, Paul cannot be a criminal in the sense of legal self-awareness. In the depths of his conscience, he sees himself as a violator of either the eternal Divine Truth, or none at all. This does not imply the same understanding of the matter by society and the state; but their court is not the own court of the representative of the name being examined. Paul is, first of all, desire, attraction, longing. As pure will, he has no reason to delude himself with the approximate normativity of the empirical, no matter whether it is outside him or in him. Knowing himself as standing outside ideal forms, on the other side of the spiritual order, he is acutely aware of his sinfulness, not as this or that individual sin, but as a “sinful law living in the members,” as a vexation of the will. But precisely because of this, they are especially keenly aware of the holiness of the holy and the ideality of the spiritual. No matter how his desire manifests itself empirically, he still does not want the empirical and cannot be satisfied with the empirical, even the most sublime. The subject of his yearning is the perfect form, the Platonic idea, spirituality, but not as an abstract thought, that is, although true, it is existentially powerless, but as a force capable of taking into itself and from within overcoming and enlightening the power that is given to him in indisputable experience by his own will. He takes the sacred as a symbol, and not as a concept, and a concept without power does not conquer him and even challenges him to fight with itself. Before demanding recognition, the shrine must prove itself as a higher principle and prove it by overcoming the lower, ordering the chaotic and truly becoming above the higher. But this victory and the self-proof of the shrine and its self-justification are not sought by Paul in terms of sensory reality, although they must be perceived by experience. People of a moralistic and rationalistic bent, attributing to themselves love for Christ, deny such in Paul. But here they and Paul deeply disagree in their needs and understanding: these people need a teacher, but Paul knows in Christ a Savior. And therefore, they evaluate this or that separate concept, or a separate saying of the Gospel, in itself as decisive, and, making this concept or saying the abstract beginning of their own activity, they no longer need Christ himself. Moreover, starting from this abstract beginning, they are inclined to obscure or completely exclude, under one pretext or another, from the Gospel everything else that is not logically abstractly connected with the beginning they have assimilated. On the contrary, Paul does not hold on to any one concept or saying of the Gospel as if it were independent, but hears through them all the single power of the Eternal Word, “to which all things were,” each of the words in the dialectic of spiritual experience can turn into its opposite, and therefore a formal reference to one or another text of the Gospel can always collide with Pavlov’s no. This does not indicate a falling away from the Gospel, but fidelity to it as the word of Christ, that is, fidelity to Christ. But what Paul is faithful to stands before him just as vividly and captivates him as with an inexpressibly abstract thesis, whatever it may be. All that has been said, however, does not at all affirm Paul’s everlasting love for Christ, and his everlasting fidelity to Christ. He can fall deeply, he can rise up and rebel. But just as he loves and remains faithful to Christ not when he formally agrees with the abstract precepts of Christian morality, and not because he agrees with them, so also when he falls away or rebels, he does not happen at all when he goes beyond the boundaries of these precepts, and not because he goes over. And, on the contrary, it is precisely by violating these rules and in violating them that he often shows the consciousness of closeness to Christ, as well as by observing them - his alienation. Christ is felt by him as a fiery stream piercing the Cosmos and himself, in particular. Fire jet. When Paul is acutely aware of it in himself, then by its power (and not by his own efforts) the boundaries and superstructures of moral and legal structures melt; free, he is then determined by the existential truth of Christ living in him and crosses the line of the law. When this consciousness fades and the fiery stream is covered with toxins, Paul does not feel like the master of life and, timid, makes an effort not to do anything, as far as circumstances allow; if action is absolutely required, he fearfully adheres to all the rules and regulations, not because he respects them, but out of inability to take creative responsibility. When the fiery tide of freedom arose, Paul did not consider anything external. It is then that he causes criticism and murmurs from an indignant society. At low tide, he sits expectantly in the shallows, or maneuvers in puddles between the coastal rocks, showing prudence, respect for everything established and common virtues. Here he would not dare to do anything responsible, good or bad. He feels abandoned or deserted, he clearly knows that he is just an impoverished and unnecessary vessel; not at all out of modesty, he will say that he is nothing. But it was then that those around him would approve and find him reformed. However, such praises stick sharp points into mental wounds. Paul yearns for incarnation: from the side of the will it is its self-disclosure in the world, and from the side of form it is the victorious manifestation of the idea. The insufficient outpouring of the will into the world, as well as the partial manifestation of the idea, leaves Paul dissatisfied and languishing. His quest is aimed at a perfect embodiment, as spiritual as it is dense in the world. And only as long as he holds on to this incarnation, while the ray of heavenly light still trembles in the empirical and the pulse of the deep will beats. Little or much, this in itself does not matter to him, as long as this trembling and pulse serves as an indication of ongoing growth and thus promises the future. The assessment of others and the external success of a thing or person do not subjugate him, and what is often precious to him is precisely what is unnoticed, even neglected and condemned by society. But at that moment, when balance has already been achieved, and the incarnation, no matter how high, becomes stable and does not promise perfection, it will immediately turn in Paul’s consciousness into a thing, into only an empirical one, and will force him to begin his search again. These latter in him are not a program of activity, not rules of life, not even beliefs, but a direct need, more immediate than the needs of the body, and irresistible - also more than them; this is the deepest of Paul's manifestations in the world, the primary quality he manifests. Conscious, as something primary, of his sinfulness, no matter whether something bad was done or not, Paul just as directly and primarily yearns for the holy world, holy society, holy life and, especially, for holy flesh. You can repeat, this is embodiment. Holy, but certainly concrete, dense, vital, in the flesh. Knowing in himself the very fundamental principle of the world, the very desire, the very will to be, knowing its darkness, languor and hungry poverty, despite its power, Paul is in the very thick of the birthing roots of existence. But precisely because, having more than anyone else the right to say about being the worst that can be said about it, feeding directly from the source of world sorrow, Paul, however, sees that the roots of being are good, not evil; that the primeval night of desire is dark, but does not rise to the light, but seeks light that would have the power to enlighten it; that, striving to pour itself into the world, the will to be does not affirm itself and does not want to embody itself, but in itself - spirituality, which it is deprived of, and overturns abstract concepts and false spirituality, which is powerless. And therefore, accusations of evil at the very foundation of the world seem to him to be a fundamental untruth and essential slander. There is nothing more alien and hostile to Paul than dualistic deviations and all sorts of Manichaeism, although it is he, more than anyone else, who has reasons in his own well-being to be seduced by this untruth. Consciousness of one's own sinfulness, rooted in the nature of the will, since this latter is not illuminated and not transformed; connection with the world, felt from within and therefore directly giving a feeling of responsibility for the sinfulness of the world; mental pain from the inability to manifest and realize what you want, all these disharmonies are inherent in the very structure of the personality, therefore, cannot be eliminated by changes in external circumstances and therefore give rise to hopelessness and desperation. Here is all the data for the simplest solution to world issues - and declaring the very basis of existence evil. But, not seeing the light, not feeling it in himself, Paul sees it above him, and this light, although not his, is recognized by him as a reality that can be embodied in the world will, although it is completely incomprehensible how this can be. In other words, in the parsed name, faith is not an additional quality, capable of being and not being, but a necessary side of a person, and without faith such a person simply could not exist. In this abyss of desire, faith is what reason does there for most other personality constitutions. Will and faith are the poles in this name, between which the entire structure of the personality extends: other sides and elements of the mental-spiritual organization can also be strong, but one cannot look for what is characteristic in them. Moreover, they have a service meaning here and therefore, in their activities, they are entirely determined by the two named poles. According to iconographic symbolism, the Apostle Paul is written like this: “Ap. Paul, bakan robe, green underside, Golden Gospel" (Face calendar of the 17th century of the St. Nicholas Monastery of Edinoverie in Moscow. M., 1904, p. 30). Green colors, as is known, signify the elemental foundations of world life, the cosmic will that gives birth to the depths of existence; in terms of personal experiences, this is an ecstatic fusion with nature and, in a bad aspect, naturalism. Gold, moreover, is the golden Gospel - Logos, Christ, grace, faith. Here are both poles of the name Paul, and, although opposite, they are colorfully related to each other, and transform into each other: gold is a refined and enlightened green, the spiritualized light essence of green tones. Everything else, as said, is shells and tools. And above all, such is the mind in Paul. As has already been noted, he needs to be dense and elastic enough in Paul to keep the personality from being destroyed by the pressure of its own force. But, no matter how strong it is, in this name it is never the dominant ability and does not live here on its own and for itself. It is unusual for him here, no matter how great his activity, to give a self-sufficient construction. He does not look for independent values ​​in the intellectual field and therefore he himself does not try to develop them. He may be able to revolve in abstract areas, but he approaches them as service ones, for the sake of something else, or, more precisely, for the sake of that ideal object of faith, which is contemplated, but is not accessible to reason. Therefore, the mind in question is always adaptable to its subject and to the task, in its specific conditions, for the sake of which it began to act in the first place. This is a flexible mind, by its very purpose, organically not admitting eternal truths and therefore essentially hostile to metaphysics. Dogmatic thinking, whether it be in science or philosophy, in religion or in society, causes insurmountable boredom in Paul - until it is imposed; and an explosion of hatred - when it declares its rights to power. The spirit of the system, as thinking moving independently, between two poles, challenges Paul to fight. For his own thinking, as a service one, is certainly fluid, certainly flexible, certainly determined by reality, upper and lower, but does not try to define it by himself, as from himself. Weak or strong, superficial or deep, depending on the individual ministry, Paul's thinking is dialectical. In the highest sense, this is the ability to touch every reality and understand every reality. At the lowest level, it will be pliability to the influence of reality, and the coherence of confessions and statements is lost, so that such a person will be called not having any convictions. However, such an assessment would be either too strong or too weak: Paul, whatever he was, was generally not characterized by convictions, in the sense of certain provisions and rules that were already learned and kept ready in memory. Therefore, it would be unreasonable to accuse any one Paul of such instability, when their convictions are not in this name at all. But he lives not according to convictions, and not from convictions, but directly by the will of life, and if at one time or another something like convictions is expressed, then one must firmly remember that, in the consciousness of Paul himself, this is only an attempt to express in words a pre-verbal and super-verbal will. However, this expression of will binds Paul to the future as little as the mirror image of someone who looks in the mirror. If Paul speaks tomorrow differently from what he says today, it does not in the least follow that he will say something different from what he says today. It will be the same, but the same will, and not reason and words, which could not help but change, as soon as all the conditions of judgment changed, and, above all, the main condition - time - changed. Metaphysical thinking always and everywhere speaks the same way; but that is precisely why it says different things. Being formal, it chases the semblance of a correct formula and logical concepts, but misses reality itself. Dialectical thinking, faithful to reality, once chosen, rests on it, not being afraid of the variability of its formulations. Where Paul seems too changeable and flexible, he should be reproached not for this apparent inconstancy of thought, but for excessive loyalty to reality, which itself is too changeable and is not worth devotion to it. The more spiritual the object of faith, the less closely it can be expressed by a single testimony about it. And, at high levels of faith, the spectrum of evidence about one subject occupies the entire area between yes and no, so that only all of them, determined by their extreme limits, provide a collectively satisfying formula of reality. Any other discussion is assessed by Paul as false, and therefore, his thinking is always dialectical, and when discussing the spiritual area, it is built from antinomies. The object of faith is established in the word by joint and inseparable contradictions. What was said earlier about the moral side of Paul and about his attitude towards the Gospel, with appropriate changes, must be repeated about the activity of Paul's mind. Whether Paul is great or small, it is very easy to catch him in verbal contradictions, reproach him with inconsistency, and see insufficient thoughtfulness in his mental constructions. And these instructions, if we take them into account formally, are usually correct. On the other hand, Paul can be extremely consistent in his mental constructions and present them formally impeccably. Maybe both. But the meaning of both is exactly the opposite of what society tends to see in it. Formally, Paul is consistent in constructing his mind when he has lost the elasticity of his mind, because he does not feel the highest reality within himself. This sequence is only a sign of timidity, with the flexibility of mind characteristic of Paul: here he is not speaking on his own, but is composing a mental structure from some abstract point of view, borrowed, and not shared by him. He speaks here from someone else’s person, real or imaginary, and precisely because of this, having relieved himself of responsibility for the substantive truth of the given construction, i.e., without having in mind reality itself, he gets the opportunity to withstand the abstract principle being pursued. This construction is a mask put on or a mental role taken upon oneself. This is not a living thought, but a stylization of someone else’s abstract thought, and its value, if we do not talk about the art itself, the art of mental acting, is exactly the same as the virtues of Paul - with a spiritual ebb. Paul's ability to be outwardly consistent means nothing more than intellectual agility. And Paul is forced to give chria when internal poverty or external demands call him to mental consistency. It’s not that he was telling a lie by distorting his thoughts; but he does not tell the truth, because he does not feel it at the moment, and he does not recognize abstract schemes prepared for future use as truth at all. In a certain sense, we can say that, although he speaks, he simply does not think anything - i.e. That is, in essence, but argues externally - as, however, in general, the majority reason. And therefore, for such chries, this majority expresses its approval to Paul. On the contrary, as soon as the feeling of spiritual reality leads Paul to the word that is internally truthful, he already loses the ability for chria and would not be able to develop it, blinded by the light of reality. And, if external circumstances allow, and the inner voice gives consent, then the word about reality is born. But this word has nothing to do with a smooth and outwardly consistent chriya. It goes, stumbling, and does not immediately find itself, contradicts itself and scatters in different directions, at first simply inconsistent, and then, as Paul touches reality, more and more unexpected at every turn, everything is in fractures and contradictions, dark and, at the same time, most plastically conveying reality itself. The formal smoothness of Paul’s speech is a suspicious sign, for it indicates his emptiness or the need for him to keep his secret. The opposite is manifested by the external discordance of speech, the more full of verbal surprises, logical leaps and contradictions, the more truthful it is in essence. The deeper this secret lies in Paul’s soul, the more fundamentally it is connected with his inner life, the more sacred it is for him, the more broken his speech about it. But he himself evaluates this word about mystery, torn by contradictions, as expressing it most accurately, as the clearest imprint of its image, as a perfect, as perfect as it can be, transmission of things and experiences, burning in the power of their reality and therefore scorching the word that undertakes to clothe them with itself. It is this broken and torn word that, according to Paul’s consciousness, somehow conveys the reality he expresses, cutting into it with its sharp edges. And, on the contrary, a smooth and light word glides past reality and remains indifferent to it. It is necessary to bring the mind out of the laziness of passive movement along established paths with verbal inconvenience and force it with precisely this inconvenience, these corners scratching and tearing the fabric of mental habits, to turn it to a direct judgment about reality itself. This is Paul’s unconscious or semi-conscious task: in other words, with these speech techniques he makes an attempt, at least for a short period of time, to reveal in the interlocutor his root basis and force him to think about reality - directly, like Paul. The higher or deeper the reality expressed, the more frequent these angles of thought become and the more contradictions accumulate. Speech becomes less and less understandable if we take it on the plane of metaphysical thinking, and to understand it, inner surrender to its rhythm and spiritual consonance with it are increasingly required. Without this, it does not reach the consciousness of the interlocutor, not because he has an objection to it, but because of his inability or unwillingness to enter into it. For Paul's speech, like all his thinking, never narrates external facts as such, and is not capable of simply informing, but necessarily, by its very nature, serving in relation to the will, establishes consciousness on some reality. This means that such speech never reports, but requires a certain attitude. And therefore, it cannot, also, be perceived indifferently, in order to be “taken into account,” but: either it does its job, and then it is taken from within, according to its internal meaning, or it is pushed out by the consciousness of the interlocutor and, without reaching consciousness, it is explained not as false, but simply devoid of meaning. Other words and speeches, i.e. other names, are accepted because they are understood, and are understood because they are recognized; Pavlov’s is the opposite: first they must be accepted, then they are understood and, as a result of the latter, they are confessed. Some words and speeches speak into the ear and pass from the periphery to the center, while Pavlov’s go directly into the innermost will and from it, as if from the center, they spread in circles to more and more superficial layers of the personality. And therefore, some words and speeches cannot but be perceived by the interlocutor, although they are easily delayed in parts, in one or another of the intermediate areas, on the way to the complete approval of their will. Pavlov's can be taken either entirely or not at all; for they aim entirely at a point in relation to which they may miss, but this is so, not by calculation or voluntary desire of Paul, but by virtue of the spiritual structure of the personality inherent in this name. And, in itself, this way of thinking can neither be approved nor blasphemed, although it may be liked or disliked; its use can be both good and bad. But, it goes without saying that people, in the overwhelming majority, are pleased to hear speech that does not demand anything from them and leaves them in passive irresponsibility, and it is annoying to hear some demand that prompts them to spiritual effort and decision, it is annoying to be driven out of peace, even if they were aware of the truth and benefit of what is required of them. In the spiritual world, as in the material world, the law of death reigns, whether it be called inertia, entropy, habit, passivity or laziness. Paul, no matter what he may be personally, is the opposite of death, the bearer of activity: and his word, thereby, goes across the world and strokes it against the grain. It is not difficult to see the foolishness here. And, indeed, Pavel is a holy fool, although in a completely different sense than Alexei. In the latter, foolishness is a certain lack in the world; This, precisely, is the looseness, the flaky nature of the strong-willed and intellectual organization, which does not allow Alexei to keep up with the world, although it is covered in abundance with emotional beauties and the energy of other worlds oozing through the loose personality. And in Paul, foolishness is offensive and is revealed as an activity in spite of the world and against the world, as a struggle with the world, but using all the means of the world itself, which are turned against it. In Alexey, something is missing from the ability of the world, and therefore the world puts pressure on him as if it were a weak point. On the contrary, Paul himself is aware or, more precisely, organically feels the lack of peace - here peace is understood in the sense of society and culture. And he is organically incapable of coming to terms with this shortcoming and strains his whole being against it, that is, against the pressure of the world. As it is said, he rubs the world against the grain and therefore, being, in the world’s estimation, a holy fool, he displays active, even aggressive, foolishness. Alexey recognizes himself as deprived, and Pavel sees that the world is deprived, in comparison with the possibilities that are inherent in his, the world’s, roots. Paul knows the fullness of the gifts given to the world, and with pain he sees how a person deprives himself, not giving himself a chance. And therefore, Paul fights with man for his own sake, but remains always incomprehensible and, therefore, does not lead this struggle to the desired outcome. In his most important things, he is not able to speak out, and the most cherished therefore remains hidden and buried, no matter how much he talks about it. This leads to an internal collision with oneself and an external collision with others. If the latter does not become so, it is only because of Paul’s disinclination to think and act straightforwardly; but, nevertheless, his collision with the world does not stop for a single minute. Alexei's passive foolishness seeks condescension and pity from the world - and receives it; Paul’s active foolishness does not want such things and does not use them. Therefore, the life of this name is tireless tension and effort, the constant need to rest one’s feet on the ground and, accordingly, the inadmissibility of rest and relaxation, even short-term. Dialectical thinking is that which knows no rest on final, self-sufficient conclusions and which recognizes itself as non-existent as soon as it has become a finished thing from living activity; the opposite of it is metaphysical thinking, resting on developed concepts and positions, while recognizing their very development as something preliminary and temporary. In the realm of thought, therefore, Paul does not and cannot know peace, and therefore has no rest, always “stretching forward and forgetting what is behind.” The same applies to external activity, unless it is external to Paul and therefore indifferent. And here he never takes on the world passively and therefore has no rest. Sofia Kovalevskaya has two dramas that have the same beginning, but from a certain moment of action, moving towards opposite denouements. One of them depicts “how it was”, and the other depicts “how it could be”. It is this discrepancy between “is” and “could be” that pushes Paul to a tireless inner effort to translate “is” into “could be.” And the closeness, which he is aware of, of this “could have been,” with the impossibility of speaking about them in such a way as to be heard, torments him and prompts him to clash, however, to no avail. His consciousness is like that of a traveler suffering from thirst and surrounded by thirsty people, who with a magic wand discovered a mighty water vein under the soil, very close, but cannot convince him to dig a well. His knowledge not only does not convince others, but is also not able to be clothed in a heard word about what is known. It is not that Paul's word is in itself incomprehensible; on the contrary, it conveys its subject well. But precisely because of its affinity with the subject itself, this word does not conform to the usual words and formulas of society, and therefore goes against public attention and is not listened to by society. There are words that are heard, although they remain incomprehensible due to their lack of formality; Paul's word, in essence, is simple, however, it is not understood because it is not heard. His gift is the gift of Cassandra: a prophetic word, when powerless to convince. And having realized his powerlessness through many vain attempts, Paul gets tired and falls silent, burdened and exhausted under the pressure of unspoken words. Hitherto nothing has been said about Paul's feelings; but this is not due to an oversight, but due to the very structure of his personality. After all, feeling is a transition from contemplation to action; contemplation is no longer pure, and action is not yet revealed. This subjectivity of contemplation and delay in action are alien to Paul, who lives at opposite poles at once, but is not able to be between them. He knows the coldness of dispassionate contemplation, the ethereal heights, where there is no burning of will, where there is only objective consciousness, supramundane and stormless, where nothing is wanted, where nothing is expected. He also knows the dark depths of the earth, the complete attraction and craving for light, and design. But, if you already leave the mountain peaks, where the ethereal current permeates, then you need to act, and the thought of action without the action itself, that is, a feeling, is assessed by Paul as something improper and hostile. To other names, the feeling gives satisfaction, as a replacement or surrogate for the desired action, eliminating the cold of the ethereal heights and, at the same time, not imposing responsibility for manifestation in the world; here the feeling warms and, at the same time, gently isolates from reality. But it is precisely this, both warmth and gentleness, that is not only hostile, but also painful for Paul; the feeling is painful for him. After all, it deprives him of the blissful peace and cool dispassion of heavenly contemplations, but does not give permission to the will in action. Paul, like anyone else, may be forced by circumstances to come down from above and not reach the bottom, to begin an action that is delayed. But, dear to others, this delay burns him, because it simultaneously deprives him of both areas native to him, both poles of his personality. And then, Paul, having suffered through pain, makes an effort - either to complete the action he has begun, or to cut it off from himself, throw it far away and return to contemplation, even in spite of the most compelling external impulses. He does this not for reasons of abstract morality or expediency, but suffering from pain that exceeds natural pain, whether from a violent breakthrough into the world of action, or from cutting off his living part. And that is why Paul not only does this, but will do it. It is clear that he will not be stopped here by a hostile assessment of such an action, which is liberating for him, no matter how he is judged from the outside; and the sacrifice of a part of himself, even the best and most cherished to him, will not stop him. But both outcomes are inevitably painful, either tearing the personality away from its continuation in society and throughout the world, or tearing away from it its internal organs that have already begun to form, and, therefore, again hindering Paul in his main thing - the will to incarnate. From all that has been said, one word emerges as a result: suffering. Paul, in general, is rather more than average - and in terms of the flexibility of his character and mind he could, and in fact, bypasses many life conflicts that threaten most other names. And his life trajectory should therefore appear as a smooth and elastic line, giving satisfaction, well-being and success in life. But he cannot avoid other clashes, incomparably more burdened with consequences and undoubtedly more painful than those which he has acquired an advantage over other names in avoiding. The internal contradiction is embodied externally, and breaks and breaks the smooth curve of his life. The main feeling, therefore, is suffering here, associated with the very nature of the name, but, at the same time, only confirming Paul’s basic faith in the need to embody the spiritual principle in life - not because it is wrong to exist without it, but because it is simply impossible. Perhaps this is said somewhat pointedly, like any characteristic squeezed into too small a space. But, nevertheless, this is a correct characteristic, a correct observation, the polarization of names that is not uncommon in onomatology. Where a name is very clear and undeniable in its etymology, where its etymological meaning is imposed on the consciousness and, moreover, is not symbolic in nature, but too clearly identical, there the personality pattern often turns out to be in direct contradiction with the etymological meaning of the name. It’s not that it’s impossible to discern a connection at all between a name and a person, or more precisely, between the etymological meaning of a name and its energetic meaning. On the contrary, careful penetration into the name and into the person who bears it allows one to discover the threads stretching from the name to the person, allowing one to understand the original fabric that has degenerated into a given person, and this fabric is clearly determined by the name in question. And when this is revealed, then the symbolic reflection of the name by a given person becomes clear, not only contradicting the etymological meaning of his name on the surface, but also affirming this meaning in its deeper layers. Here the opportunity opens up to see and understand not only that this person is blatantly violating the etymological meaning of her name, but also that it is no coincidence that she bears it, that the energy of her name really acts in her, although it causes an unexpected action, however, it is still the activity of this name, and not any other. Personality, like any concrete thing in general, embodying the mental essence, reveals it in itself and by itself symbolically, as an artistic image. When an intelligent essence is clearly far from the possibility of rationalistic unification and simplification according to one criterion, then its artistic embodiment in a person does not create a gap between the symbol and the prototype - the name. When this prototype (although even here incapable of being rationalistically flattened) is closer to the rational plane and more easily allows violence against itself, turning it from an idea into a concept, then the person embodying a given name can easily, according to the loudly imposed abstract sign of the name, precisely because of it, disobey the name and, in response to its obsessive demand - to have some specific sign, to be a walking personification of this sign - she directly shows the opposite, ontologically wills to show the opposite. Perhaps here she is prompted to this uprising in her own name by deep chastity, which does not allow her to walk around with a sign on her forehead, declaring in all letters what abstract attribute this person should be, according to the reasoning of the crowd. But, while dressing in an opposite sign, in its depths the personality is nevertheless illuminated by this sign, denied on the surface, and its light shines indistinctly through its own, more superficial, denial. We find ancient works cloying and fictitious, where there are persons with names whose meaning too clearly indicates virtues and vices. What is unpleasant here is not only, or rather, not so much the extreme nature of their virtue or vice, as the formal statement of both by the names themselves: from the experience accumulated and deposited in us over the centuries, but undoubtedly inherent in us, the direct instinct of names, no matter how this instinct is explained, we do not believe this straightforward coincidence of an abstract logical sign with the psychological and moral, and, even more so, the bodily content of personality, and the presented image, in its integrity with the name, is assessed by us as impossible, and therefore artistically false. Lucus a non lucendo - everyone knows this subconsciously and everyone knows from life experience that people with overly obviously pious surnames are rarely pious. Constantinus – propter inconstantiam. In exactly the same way, or even more, due to the particular clarity of the etymology, Lyudmila, - and in relation to this name: But what’s special about this: Lyudmila is a rude person and it’s not by chance that she’s like that. She has strong impulses, but rough, rough, in a bass key, somewhat hoarse. Knocks down everyone she meets in the path of her impulse. But the impulse with calculation is not for her; she is rude to calculation itself, she seeks violent clashes with life and does not spare herself in them. But this is not temperament, not the fire in the blood and in the soul, which flows like a molten stream in the direction it desires. Lyudmila does not want anything specific, does not achieve it, and generally does not know what she wants, that is, in the sense of content: she does not need a specific content, this or that, but a form of violent collisions, rough manifestations. “Looks for storms as if there is peace in storms.” Quiet speech is painful for her, but shouts are needed. Warmth, comfort, contentment with it are not only not sought, but, on the contrary, are rejected with indignation, discarded, cast aside as something despicable and disgusting. Her appearance, in her own imagination, the image of herself that attracts her, is a shock, a shock with a banner, a flag, maybe a cross, in general, a shock with something, it doesn’t matter what exactly. A storm is raging, marching drums and rough copper pipes are thundering, bullets are whistling, all around is the tension of suffering and horror. But it shocks us with something, leads us somewhere, saves some crowds and leads us to something. This is how she imagines herself in her prime, at the peak of her achievements. But for her it remains unclear and, more or less, indifferent, whom she leads, where she leads: what is important is the ascent itself, the Beethovenian spirit of pointless rebellion, the onslaught of the elements, sweeping away everything quiet and comfortable, although at times she is not presented with any goal that internally justifies these impulses. This is the complete opposite of the epic, this is the roaring sea of ​​​​the sound of Beethoven's Egmont, exciting and uplifting if you madly surrender to it, and an empty boil in a cauldron of water, if you remember that the weak motivation for all this noise is political passions, very doubtful in their correctness, and, in addition, have died down a long time ago and gone into the realm of epic, albeit rather petty. This is exactly how Lyudmila would like to sail on a raft made of barrels and logs along the piling waves of the ocean, with the flash of lightning and in the role of captain of the unfortunate people dying of cold and hunger - certainly unfortunate travelers. But this image, like others like it, for Lyudmila is not a theatrical effect, not vanity and a desire to surprise and surprise, but a genuine shock. “This is me,” Lyudmila longs to say, but at the same time she wants a genuine shock, a genuine uplift, a genuine feat, and she will not be satisfied with the effect, the effect alone, the spectacular role. Lyudmila wants effect, but not affectation. This is an honest nature, exaggerated in its honesty, emphasized in it, rude in its honesty. Both internally and externally honest, “so honest, so truthful that I’ll punch anyone in the face, I won’t lose a single millimeter in honesty and truthfulness.” Everyone seems flabby, lethargic, and false to her. She recognizes only heroes and is inclined to see in one or another, from time to time, the ideal appearance of a hero. But, as soon as the slightest weakness, softness, inconsistency of a recognized hero is revealed, he is instantly knocked off the pedestal with a kick and showered with contempt - he, a deceiver, a flabby and cowardly scoundrel, is no better than the rest of the despicable herd of little men, vile and selfish. Lyudmila is a heroic person, perhaps not so much heroic as wanting to be one. She understands heroism in a very elementary way, as well as nobility, which almost the whole world denies and which, to a superlative degree, asserts itself. It will not even occur to her to doubt whether her nobility is really so indisputable and gives her the right to despise everyone around her. When Beethoven stood on the path to force the Duke of Weimar, Goethe and his retinue to walk around him on the lawn, then, probably, Beethoven was struck by the same happy thought about his independence and his nobility, unlike the servant of Goethe, which usually inspires Lyudmila. She hates contentment, but where there is misfortune and grief, she is in her place; there she forgets about the harsh condemnation of people and is ready for any sacrifice, impetuous and without looking back. Here she becomes resourceful, enterprising, can lead, infuse energy, take control of the situation and, in fact, lead. Sister of mercy, paramedic, sutler, revolutionary activist - she is in her place here. Not distinguished, in general, by a deep mind, alien to contemplation, she often turns out to be smarter than the smart ones with her impulse, which knows no looking back, with her rudeness, which is not delayed by details and shades. She chops with an axe, grabs the ax in accordance with her main passion for rough actions, when others, more experienced than her, would use subtle tools that she despises; and in a moment of danger he may turn out to be more right in his rudeness than others in their subtlety and prudence. Here she leads, now dear to people, yes, to people, and not to man. In her heroic moments, she is a crowd pleaser. She is not nice to a person, and she doesn’t want to be nice, and therefore she is rude to him, a person: too petty, too soft, too little, in her estimation, to be nice to individual people. As a name with a completely transparent etymology and, moreover, not going beyond the boundaries of the language from which it is borrowed, the name Vera has not yet been overgrown with the moss of history and there are no mysterious nooks and crannies in it, the relationship of which to the whole plan is comprehended intuitively, but not deduced by elementary inferences. Although expressing a concept completely opposite to rationality, this name further develops the content of its concept in a straightforward and almost rational manner. In the extreme, we can already talk about it as rationalistic, in terms of the method of processing, irrational, in terms of the content of the concept of faith. The theology of the 17th-19th centuries dealt with the deepest mysteries of the spirit in a straightforward, rational way and it was precisely these that they were especially willing to make the subject of their anatomization, from which the mystery did not become obvious, however, it became boring. So, Vera, choosing her paths in defiance of reason, and even overturning rational barriers with passion and stubbornness, continues along her chosen paths with rational consistency, as if she were riding on rails. She has a strange combination of recklessness and consistency, namely, rational consistency, poetic outcomes and virtuous boredom: for she follows her paths, once they are chosen, not by the power of inspiration, intuition or, at least, temperament, but, namely, with virtuous consistency and almost mathematical duty, she moves to the limit. Symbolic thinking is alien to her, the understanding is inaccessible that a secret is exposed by exposure, just as vice versa - it is hidden, devoid of veils. Faith is the conviction of invisible things. And, indeed, the name Faith gives the power to come into relationship with that which is not given sensually and that denies the present sensual; it is given to her to receive news about the hoped-for and confidence in the sensually not perceived. It is confronted with something that has not yet been expressed, and perhaps will never be expressed. But this unexpressed thing is closer and dearer to Vera than what is expressed around her. She is determined in her initial decisions by precisely this, unexpressed, despite everything obvious that surrounds her. And therefore, the motives of her actions, or, more correctly, her behavior, are incomprehensible to others. Vera’s individual actions fit together very logically, but their very series, as a whole, are considered to offend common sense and cause resistance, and even indignation. Faith in its main decisions surprises not only others, but also itself. She suddenly breaks calculations, traditions, decency. But further, she no longer returns to what was broken and makes her act the beginning of a new coherent kind, that is, new calculations, new traditions and new decency. In other words, she follows a path that is new in direction, but conventional in nature. Entering into it is tragic and can easily lead to death. But following this path, in itself, is no longer a leap, but a relatively calm pursuit of the goal. Walking this path is recognized by Faith as a duty and virtue. Those around you are at first shocked by this new path, but then, seeing the internal consistency of Faith, they begin to reckon with the fact. Those around them see that Vera’s path has diverged from their established path, and then coldness sets in. They do not have the data to accept the path of Faith and leave their own, because for this it is necessary to believe in it. But the consistency of the Faith and the accessibility of its path to reason, as a whole, stop the mouth from decisive condemnation of it. He, in his outcome, is not motivated, in the future he does not represent the strangeness of foolishness and the mystery of symbolism, he simply does not converge with the path of those around him and therefore is capable of causing minor clashes rather than a significant struggle against himself. In her thinking, as in her actions, Faith is clear and definite. Her nature is distinguished by honesty, and honesty, moreover, is the first commandment of the Faith, set consciously and exclusively, with emphasis and contrast to many other commandments. All this makes Vera’s thinking and actions dismembered, clear and simplified in their clarity, which claims impeccability and uttermostness: there is nothing hidden, nothing unsaid. However, clarity imparts a certain deliberate elementaryness to the appearance of Vera, without making it truly transparent. Faith is not a crystal stream and not the music of Mozart; Vera only thinks that she is like that. In fact, behind the surface layer of general intelligibility there are intuitions, premonitions and unmotivated inclinations, which are by no means transparent, but, at the same time, not so deep as to again become convincing as a revelation of another world. Therefore, they seem to be something arbitrary, if not whim or eccentricity, then still self-will and self-will. Not transparent logically and, at the same time, not full-fledged ontologically, Vera’s intuitions are close to daydreaming, but, to the benefit of Vera, they do not contain the moist warmth characteristic of real daydreaming. There is something akin to Varvara in Vera, but Vera is drier than she, has less pressure of aspirations, less heat and, so to speak, smaller features of her entire organization. Like Varvara, Vera is sacrificial, drawn to sacrifice and makes herself a duty and a passion out of it, at the same time. In Vera there lives an exaggerated assessment of heroism, which for her comes down mainly to sacrifice, a kind of taking seriously a false classical tragedy. Directness, no guile, great loyalty, as well as the above-mentioned honesty and sacrifice of Vera, also make her similar to Varvara; but they are expressed in Vera more proportionally and subtly, with a greater sense of proportion and common sense, so that they do not lead Vera to those sharp dissonances with the lives of those around her, as is constantly the case with Varvara. The comparison between the Mikhails and the bear has been firmly established, just as, on the contrary, the name of this latter is generally accepted - Mishka. This equation between Michael and the shaggy beast is made on the basis of clumsiness, clumsiness, and some dishevelment. And this feature is taken as a basis for comparison, not without reason. However, a comparison, the same comparison, can be accepted on the basis of other, even other, characteristics, and moreover, on some formal correlation of several characteristics taken together. This establishes a deeper affinity or formal similarity between the human type and the animal type. The other sign that must be kept in mind, whether we talk about Michael or the bear, is ardor. The bear is a good-natured bumpkin, but he is also very dexterous and furious when the time comes. What characterizes him is not just his clumsiness and heaviness, but the duality of his nature, which surrounded his inner fury with a heavy, shaggy appearance. It’s the same with Mikhail: it would be an extreme mistake to think about the lethargy of his temperament, about internal slowness and inhibition of mental movements. Contrary to the usual interpretation, Michael is not a phlegmatic person at all, and his element is by no means water, but fire, whether beneficially warming or fiercely burning, but a dry and hot principle, and not wet and cold. But his body, that is, the physical and mental body, meaning by body the entire organization of organs, tools and means of manifesting internal movement outward, in the world - everything that makes being “in itself and for itself” - “being for another” - Mikhail’s body does not keep up with his internal movements. Not only is it relatively little pliable in comparison with the mobility of the flame that is inside, but it is also inferior in obedience to bodies of other names. This is a body of great inertia and great internal friction; it lags behind the orders coming from within and brings them out with a significant delay. If the internal changes are very fast, then such a body simply extinguishes the internal movements with its inertia and, despite their strength, shows them sluggish and muffled, and may not even manifest them at all if the internal vibrations follow each other too quickly for it. A long-lasting external impression is required for the response to it to be able to break through the less obedient environments controlled by Michael. But, if this irritation has lasted for a long time, then the reaction to it breaks out like an explosion or a volcanic eruption, powerful, indomitable and incredibly fast, contrary to the calculations of others. A tight, heavy, perhaps rusty mechanism is controlled by Mikhail, and the corresponding consequences are inevitable - slowness and unevenness of movement, difficulty in subtle movements, fatigue of the manager himself. But this does not mean the same qualities of Michael in himself, in his inner life. In general, the indicated contradiction between internal and external is characteristic. Probably, this is exactly how we should imagine the structure of the beast with which Michael is compared. The duality of the name Michael is explained ontologically if we delve more closely into the nature of this name. There are earthly names, created for the earth and rooted in the earth. Their ontological function is to determine the earthly elements and be determined by them. With a high spiritual rise of the individual, these definitions and relationships become refined, sanctified and give the highest flowering of the earth. With a name like that you can be a saint; but this holiness always remains the holiness of a person and commensurate with humanity. Nikolai and Alexander, for example, are such names. Growing out of the earth, they, and other names of the same nature, do not break away from the earth and therefore do not come into conflict with the earthly conditions of life. Good or bad, the bearers of such names are externally what they are internally, and give the earth everything that they are generally capable of, in any case, they can be and can give: there are no inherent obstacles to this. But there are other names. They were not created for the earth, their roots do not live in the earth. These are forces whose nature is alien to be embodied in dense and heavy earthly environments. They can also fall on the earth, like seeds brought by the rays of the sun from the heavenly spaces; and, falling on soil unsuitable for them, they sprout and form a body for themselves from the earthly elements, thereby entering into various earthly relationships and connections. But, subjugating, by the power of their vitality, a body woven from earthly elements, these names still remain alien to the world in which they grew, and never completely take possession of it. Good or bad, bearers of such names do not adapt closely to the conditions of earthly existence that surround them and are not able to adapt, even if they had selfish calculations or criminal intentions. One of these names is Mikhail. The name of the Archangel of the Heavenly Powers, the first of the created names of the spiritual world, Michael, by its very etymology, indicates the highest measure of spirituality, a special closeness to the Eternal: it means “Who is like God,” or “He who is like God.” It means, therefore, the highest level of godlikeness. This is the name of lightning speed and irresistible power, the name of the energy of God in its implementation, in its messengership. This is an instantaneous and insurmountable fire, for some it is salvation, and for others it is death. It is “full of angelic strength.” It is more mobile than a flame, obedient to the highest command, and more indestructible than the diamond of the Celestial Spheres, which holds the Universe together. By its nature, the name Mikhail is the opposite of earthly inertia, with its both hostile and beneficial inhibition of impulses and aspirations. And, falling on the earth, this name lives on it as alien to the earth, not adapting to it and not being able to adapt. Michael is one of the oldest known names in history. But even during the many thousands of years of its presence on earth, it remains a revelation on earth and does not become its own here, although it has become overgrown with everyday connections and everyday growths. It is difficult for this name to exercise itself in earthly environments that are too dense for it. A bird, even if it could somehow exist on the bottom of the ocean, could not fly under water on wings adapted to a much more subtle element - air. Likewise, the heavenly being, Michael, falling to earth, becomes slow and clumsy, although he himself is incomparably more mobile than those who surround him on earth. Heavenly does not necessarily mean good, just as earthly does not necessarily mean bad. The division according to moral assessment goes against the division according to ontological characteristics. Mikhail, in himself, in the moral order, is not yet bad or good, and can become both. But no matter what he becomes, in dense and viscous earthly environments it is difficult for him to move and carry out his decisions, he is clumsy and unsuccessful here, even if he sold himself to the world, even if he directed his efforts to adapt to it. Mikhail requires great internal efforts and corresponding willpower to achieve what he wants in the world. He has to climb before he gets there, where most others come easily and almost without thinking. And therefore, Mikhail feels unlucky and blames the world for this, which is inert and unresponsive, but, in fact, receives from Mikhail impulses that are little accessible to him, the world. Michael, either with bitterness, if he is good, or with anger, when he is bad, denounces the world for its inertia, rightly noting this property of the world, but unfairly not taking it into account, namely, as a property without which the world would not be a world. Having fallen from heaven to earth, Michael, a light or dark angel, equally complains that the earth is not heaven and either does not understand or does not want to understand that he is no longer in heaven, and that the earth is characterized by a lawful and, in the general order of the universe, beneficial heaviness, density and viscosity. Meanwhile, Mikhail requires ether, which would instantly carry out his good or evil expressions of will. In himself, Mikhail, as indicated, is full of energy. However, from the outside it seems slow, baggy, and overly sooty. He breaks down into little things, as if unable to distinguish the important from the unimportant and boldly draw the main lines. His work is cluttered with details that deprive the main idea of ​​integrity and intelligibility, or at least seem to be so. Therefore, Mikhail’s work, despite the significant efforts invested in it, is usually not very accessible and does not find full recognition and full appreciation. Hence the dissatisfaction of Mikhail himself, and even irritation and anger at the discrepancy between his efforts and external recognition and success. In some cases, Mikhail complacently tolerates this discrepancy, forgiving it to the world, due to his general belief that people are not sensitive, ungrateful and selfish. In other cases, he falls into misanthropy, complains, gets angry, but, usually, without achieving success and recognition to the desired extent. From a letter from priest Pavel Florensky to Vl. To A. Kozhevnikov from June 29-July 12, 1912 393 “Having started this letter on the day of my Angel, I continue it on the day of Angel Mikhail Alexandrovich so that it is ready for your day. I greet you and your family on this day of celebration of the best part of your personality, for I, according to my provincial superstition, am inclined to see in the “Angel” of this day not the Guardian Angel, the guardian of your soul, and not your patron saint, but your hypostatic, Platonic Name, your λόγος σπερματικός, the mystical center of your personality, res realior in you, saturated with blessed energies, due to the fact that it “was in use” by holy men, included in the calendar and not included. Our name, O thing most hateful to modern consciousness, mysteriously predetermines our bad and our good possibilities, and our empirical freedom is to realize the first or the last, ad libitum. I have heard from experienced people, observed, read, and am theoretically convinced that each of us can only be the name given to him upon his entry into religious society. Moreover, the name is given well-known because that is the type of person, although this is too mysterious a question. Empirically, you could and can only be Vladimir - Vasily, and no one else, whether Vladimir is good or bad - this is your business. And really, think about how anyone could call you anything other than Vladimir - Vasily? - No way. When I first understood what names were and began to look closely at people, the whole reality appeared to me with a new, Rembrandtian depth, and what had previously been “nicknames” and “social badges given for the purpose of registering individuals” mysteriously transformed. My dream is to write a work - a Dictionary of names, where I would like to find out the characteristics of names based on folk writing and fine literature, church data and my own observations. Believe that the theme of a person is given by a name, and everything else is just a simple development of this theme according to the rules of counterpoint and harmony. My dreams, however, extend much further. I noticed that on everyone’s face, with a more or less firm hand, “name” is written. And it is this name that I want to catch and record, not in the smart world, but in an album, an “appendix” to the Dictionary of Names. How? – Very simple, at least in concept. You need to stock up on a fair amount of photographic cards, several hundred for each name, taken under strictly identical conditions en face and in profile. Further, it is necessary, firstly, to make from them Galton’s “average” photographs, i.e., the names of the walking rivers, the most ordinary, the most probable and, therefore, the least interesting. Then a good artist needs to order the cards to recreate the types of names - the best and worst names. Thus, for each name you will get six (profile and front) images representing the Platonic idea of ​​the name-form from three sides of it - in the sense of the possibilities of the best, the banal and the worst. The implementation of the Dictionary is not a myth for me, but still a kind of hope; but the Album of Names, of course, will have to be left until the time when we contemplate the names in the original, and not in reflection. After all, this Album would require enormous expenses and trouble, and there would be no “benefit” from it. But forgive me that, wanting to congratulate you, I got so carried away into areas that are reprehensible and far from everything that is close to people.” Notes and preparatory materials for the section “Onomatology”. (Note on a separate sheet): From thoughts on onomatology We are about to talk about issues that cannot be counted on for anything other than a bewildered smile and a shrug of the shoulders. We have to touch on subjects that for a positivist seem like wild superstition, not even worthy of refutation, and for a mystic - naive empiricism, lying in the lowlands of random and external observations. And to top it off... What is subject to our research is declared to be so general and fundamental that it cannot be analyzed or broken down into primary elements, i.e. per sa intelligitur. In other words, for someone who does not want to show personal courtesy to the author and listen to his words, all upcoming speeches can be ignored and, what is most deadly for these words, they can be missed with every right. And yet, the author decides, under the crossfire of sarcasm and contempt, to say, if not everything he thinks, then at least part of it... And this part will be onomatology. The author wants to talk about personal names and their nature, and hopes to show the importance of onomatology, i.e. by this name he will mean the doctrine of the essential nature of personal names and their metaphysical reality in the formation of a personality that overcomes empirical factors. 1) Names as entities – (onomatology); 2) Names as hypostases - (names of glory). Names are radical, irreducible symbols. Names as social quantities: a) the name is the very essence of the name; b) name – forms the facts of personality socially, on the individual. In the magazine “Estate and City” for 1915 there is an article about Names. Names are like complex radicals in chemistry and pure lines in biology (genetics). I met neither one nor the other in purity. But without them you won’t understand anything, you won’t explain anything. “Living Antiquity”, Part VI, no. 1, dept. 1. – Yu. Ya. Kuznetsov. Ancient two-base personal names among Lithuanians, their composition and origin. Page 32–50. Derzhavin sketched poems. Ivan Mikhailovich Bakunin. Spirit in the sky, vision in the hearts Tetr. No. 82 is preserved in the Imp Publ Bible (1892 report, p. 47). N. Gilyarov-Platonov .–see. note 1, 3, 4>. “Prayer in Popular Beliefs” (from “Hill Ep V”) - Wanderer, 1900, 7 (volume), pp. 505–507. Modern idea of ​​a name. The name is a nickname, “airy nothingness, flagella aeri, “flatus vocis - an empty sound, nothing more.” An ancient concept of a name. The name is the essence, the spermatic logos of a thing, the inner word is the essence, the word is the concept of a thing. Verba effective quod significant. Formula of Thomas Aquinas. V. Windelbandt. Preludes. Per. from 2nd German ed. S. Frank. St. Petersburg, 1914, p. 9, “What is philosophy?” "Orthodox Theological Encyclopedia", vol. 9, col. 697–698, 653. G. Spencer. The beginnings of sociology, (ceremonial institutions). Per. from English edited by I.V., Kiev, 1880, p. 246 et seq. A. A. Korinfsky. People's Rus'. M., 1901, p. 672. E. Voronets. About guardian angels and about imitation of the same saints. Kharkov, 1877; id. several ed. Department of distribution of spirit - morality of books at the General Lyub Spirit of Prosv, M., 1884–1907. “How do you feel about your Guardian Angel? It’s good. But the Angel is one person, and the saint of the same name is another. That they are one is a spiritualist invention” (Collected letters of St. Theophan. Vyl. 6th, M., 1900, letter 944, to S.V., dated December 14, 1884, p. 14). Celebrating the name day, i.e. name, as an independent being, is called the day of the Angel. This means that the Angel is somehow identified with the name, the name is a hypostasis. But, on the other hand, the Guardian Angel is an idea, essence, ideal appearance of a person (cf. ferroirs, manas, ideas, geniuses, etc.). Here a connection is revealed between the ideal essence of a person, the name and the Guardian Angel. Stichera from the service of St. Nikolai Mirlik. “Holy Nicholas, after your name is your life.” Beloved Catherine in Christ! I sincerely congratulate you on your Angel’s Day. God grant that the spirit of your Patroness be close to you and reflected in you. A priest told me long, long ago that he noticed a certain affinity between good Christians and the saints whose names they bear. I was too young then to pay due attention to this. Now I'm starting to notice that there is a lot of truth in this. Yes, and this is how it should be in a normal Christian life, not carried away by empty deceptions, living in the light of a humble insight into present reality... Oh, beloved mother of Christ, I haven’t written to you for a long time, during all this time I would only tirelessly repeat to you: be simpler, be simpler. So, it seems, my inner work is gradually being reduced to this task. All the blessings on this day of Christian simplicity, every insight of truth, every beauty, every good...” (Letters of the Right Reverend Michael (Gribanovsky). Letter 44. (“Christian”, 1911, April, p. 808)). Stichera on verse on April 23. Glory. “You lived worthy of your name, warrior George: for you took up the Cross of Christ on the frame, from the devil’s flattery you did good to the frozen earth, and having uprooted the thorny service of idols, you planted a vine of Orthodox faith. By the same sharpener of healing throughout the entire universe, you have appeared to the faithful and the righteous worker of the Trinity, pray, pray, for the pacification of the world and the salvation of our souls.” Filaret, M M . Words and speeches. Ed. 1873–1885 1) On Christian names II, 401–406. 2) Naming V, 59–62. About baptismal customs. Names. Bonfire Ep Ved, 1885, part II, art. 588. Collection of letters from the Optina elder Hieroschemamonk Ambrose to lay persons. Part 1. Sergiev Posad b. g., letter 99, p. 123. "Russian Archive", 1898, book. 1, p. 552. "Izvestia" for January 8, 1924 Article by G. Neradov “Komsomol Christmas”: “Our communist youth do not yawn on holidays, but take advantage of the opportunity to intensify anti-religious propaganda. At first, our Komsomol members did their job somewhat noisily and loudly. The fight had a street-carnival character. It was new, it was bold; struck the superstitious imagination and acted like a blow to the head. Out of habit, it sometimes caused dull irritation in fanatical simple minds. Sometimes it even worked in the opposite direction. Not so now. A huge banner stretched across the large, bright hall of the Ivanovo-Voznesensk club “Metalist”: “We are cautious about religious ideas and rituals because the masses of working people are still obsessed with this dope of the past. Let everyone know that we respect not religion, but workers!” The fight against religious intoxication has taken on a more in-depth, internal character. It is carried out mainly in clubs, through persistent and vibrant anti-religious propaganda. Reports are read and interviews are conducted on religious topics. Komsomol members, old party members, Red Army soldiers, workers, working women, and young people understand in detail the origins of religion. The origin of religious myths is explained to them. They are explained where the earth came from, all those wonderful phenomena that amaze the inexperienced mind are explained. And it becomes clear to them that they wandered in the dark, that they were in a long, languid and shameful captivity of clever heavenly agents who deceived them, laughing in their souls at what they considered sacred. In Orel, the walls of workers' clubs were decorated with slogans: – Through labor and science we overthrow the gods. – Our god is work, our faith is science. And in many places they threw out an even more decisive slogan: – Churches for clubs and schools! Religious holidays have an inciting effect on our working youth. It is these days that I want to emphasize my decisive break from the religious past and from everything connected with religion. Until recently, working youth in the streets and squares burned images and dolls of gods and saints of all countries and peoples. Now, having moved on to more in-depth methods of anti-religious propaganda, she is burning her religious past. And this is how: in Ivanovo-Voznesensk, during the Christmas holidays, the following people began to cross themselves: Stepanova Nina - Ninel, Shirokova Maria - Oktyabrina, Demidov Peter - Leon Trotsky, Markov Fedor - Kim, Smolin Nikolai - Marat Tendro, Gusev Pavel - Lev Krasny, Klubyshev Nikolai - Rem Proletarsky, Uvarov Fedor - Vil Radek, Chelyshev Ivan - Ivan Red. Not only Komsomol members and party members “cross over”, but there is no end to non-party members either. - Comrade, please cross me. - Dvoryankin, non-party member. There are many of them now, these non-party “Kalygin Komunars”. And what destruction the holidays cause in the area of ​​religious beliefs! You could say it's a disaster. With each holiday, the priest's business becomes more and more precarious. Things got to the point where old people flocked to the “Komsomol Christmas” celebrations. "Orlovskaya Pravda" describes the Komsomol Christmas in the "Bronevik" club. The bearded men also came. -Your place is more fun. Even as an old man, it’s somehow awkward for me to go to church now. In the working outskirts of Rostov-on-Don, in Temernik, near the theater. Lenin, where Komsomol members celebrated Christmas, the pressure of the “lads” was so strong that they had to organize a barrage detachment. The evening was interesting and informative: first a report on the origin of Christmas, then the play “Laughter and Sorrow,” castigating the priests as libertines, alcoholics and parasites. Komsomol Christmas in the village has a slightly different character. For example, in the Kurbsky volost (Yaroslavl province), the Filin circle staged a free performance at school, then a report was given on the origin of the universe, from a scientific point of view. The report was given by a young peasant from a Soviet party school, and those present expressed their approval. RKSM cell s. Velikogo (Yarosl.) organized a Christmas meeting in the reading hut. There were many peasants of different ages. The report was listened to with attention, and the subsequent concert and recitation on anti-religious themes aroused sympathy for the Komsomol members. “Velikoselians,” writes the village correspondent “Sev. Worker,” they dispersed at 12 o’clock. nights, thinking deeply about the fundamentals of religion.” Due to the fact that the peasants, for the most part, celebrate Christmas on January 7, the village cells prepared their anti-religious charges for this date. In their work, teachers help them here and there by reading reports on science and religion. Our youth have managed to combine serious knowledge with pleasant fun. Caustic satire of gods and priests eats away at religion like salt. They laugh until they drop at the funny “holy apostles,” at the “myrrh-bearing women,” at the priests. And, at the same time, what they have believed in all their lives begins to clearly waver. It becomes clear that there is nothing to hope for in heaven: you can only rely on yourself and have no one to expect mercy from.” At the moment of birth, everyone receives their own name as a sweet gift. Odyssey. 2 canto. G. Suetonius Tranquillus. The Life of the Twelve Caesars. From lat. translation V. Alekseev. Ed. 2nd, St. Petersburg, 1904, Tiberius, p. 128. Notes made from the words of the late Mr. Alexander Mikhailovich Ryleev. - “R Starina”, 1907, vol. 132, p. 728, reported by P. P. . A. Skalkovsky. The history of the new Sich or the last Zaporozhye kosh. Ed. 2nd, part III, Odessa, 1846, p. 214, approx. 1. There is some “strange confluence of names” in history; we will not pretend to explain it, but we will not deny the fact itself. Archim. Sergius (Vasiliev). His Eminence Anthony (Amphiteatrov), Archbishop of Kazan and Sviyazhsk, vol. 2, Kazan, 1885, p. 497, pr. 1: NB! Several foreshadowing dreams - in connection with the death of Archbishop. Anthony, see in the same 2nd volume of the said book. Gerbert (Pope Sylvester II): erfüllte sich der Schicksalspruch: Scandit ab R Gerbertus in R, post Papa viget R, which the triple R indicated to him in the triple elevation - from Reims to Ravenna, and from Ravenna to Rome. (M. Conter. Vorlesungen über der Bd. 1, 3 Aufl., s. 858) . M. Pogodin. – A simple speech about sophisticated things. M., 1873, pp. 264–265, 266. Death came to the bishop. Theophan, the Recluse Vyshinsky (George Vas. Govorov, b. January 10, 1815) on the day of the Epiphany of the Lord, January 6. 1894 “A remarkable coincidence! and the name of the saint is Theophan, which means “Epiphany” (cf. “Christian) Thurs,” 1894, Nos. 7–8, p. 97 in a letter to Archbishop. Arkady to Rev. Theophan, then archimandrite, rector of Olonetsk, the Holy Spirit and the small church of his cells in the seclusion were built in the name of the Epiphany of the Lord, and he died on the day of the Epiphany of the Lord. We also remember that the icon of the Epiphany was painted by Rev. Theophan, among a few others, is preferable to all other icons.” Iv. N. Korsunsky. His Grace Bishop Theophan, former Vladimir-Suzdal. M., 1895, pp. 288–289 and approx. 1. Albert Reville. Jesus of Nazareth. Per. from 2nd French year., with preface. prof. F. F. Zelinsky, vol. 2, St. Petersburg, 1900, p. 115, approx. 1. G. G. Ginkar. – The most ancient Russian two-basic personal names and their diminutives (“Living Antiquity”, year III, issue IV, department 1, pp. 440–461). 1915.III.27. Sergiev Posad. It often happens that the nature of a person expresses little of the given name, but very much of the patronymic. The patronymic often noticeably prevails over the given name. So, Nikolai Andreevich Novitsky is very similar to Andrei Nikolaevich. The name Alexey Dmitrievich would be the correct name for Dmitry Alekseevich Kuligin. Where does this predominance of patronymics come from, generally speaking - little noticeable? In addition to the root name, given on the 30th day after birth, the Japanese take a number of subsequent names at all the most important phases of their lives: upon coming of age, upon choosing a profession in life, upon marriage, upon promotion to a position or rank, etc., until the posthumous name carved on a monument. But these names seem to have more of a meaning of epithets and nicknames. In any case, the original and family name remain forever, and the others are replaced one after another.” Sun. Vlad. Krestovsky. Shinto and Bunkyo (from memories of the Land of the Rising Sun). Collection soch., vol. VII, St. Petersburg, 1900, p. 391. Priest Pavel Florensky. Notes in alphabetical order about onomatology, as a science about the categories of personal existence 1915.11.6. Hospital train. Rep. 1915.11.8. About the name Alexander. Here are some features of that chria of human personality that is pronounced: “Alexander.” This name corresponds to... . At night, awake, 1921.VIII.31. on September 1st. About the name Alexander. If someone is the soul of society, if he is curly-haired, plays the harmonica or guitar, if everyone likes him, he is a good soul, as they say about him, a shirtless guy - there are many chances that his name is Alexander. Alexandra (f.) has it all, and she is above average. But something is always missing, and she is below the level. There is something painful about Alexei... . 2) Boris is irresistible if they want to win, relus amatorius. : View in the “Calendar” of nature. Make extracts about this from Armenian history. Valentin is not smart, but he thinks highly of himself. 1917. XII.23–24. Night. After preparing for service. Conceived during the all-night vigil. The Bride of Christ, - Christ's, but not earthly, inexplicable perseverance. Maximalism Barbarian. Hence the hard life and the sacrifice of its character, the appearance, often just the appearance, even where there is no sacrifice. Fictional sacrifice. Varvara cannot be one of many, she does not want to be ordinary. She needs a pedestal, great feats - real or imaginary. Hence the exaggeration, affectation, immensity of demands from life. With dissatisfaction - and there cannot be satisfaction at the same time - the feeling and appearance of an offended queen. Then – perseverance. Self-isolation. Varvara turns rude to people, becomes barbara, barbaric, harsh in their eyes. Harshness of judgment, contempt for the majority of people and an exaggerated assessment of others, a few, who are then overthrown. The Bride of Christ is one pole, Barbara is the other. 1917.XII.6. Sergiev Posad. The spots of electric light on the wall in the Red Cross - “like a peacock’s light,” Batum reminded me of when my dad called me for the first time to watch the fire. 1919.III.6. Sergiev Posad. Georgy. In this name, in its sounds, there is something solid, but not iron-hard, but rather wooden, not the stability of spiritual activity, but the orderliness of a rather random and not deeply determined will - not stability, but perseverance, which, however, is not so shallow as to be identified with caprice. George is stubborn, but this is not the inflexibility of a lustful will, not the passion of the will, in which the dark fundamental principle of being is revealed (Paul) and not simple powerlessness, expressed in capriciousness and bizarre changes of decisions (Konstantin), but a great emphasis, I want and decided, a great, but not deep and not powerful, emphasis, in which there is quite a lot of effort and tension. George in his “I want” is rather one-sided, he does not see other sides of the matter, or, rather, does not want to see at the moment, because he feels that he does not have enough power to overcome them, to absorb and subjugate these other sides, and not dissolve himself in them and not submit to them. Georgy is not brilliant and, in particular, not talented; but he is smart, and with intelligence, cunning and perseverance he achieves his goal. Georgy is not one of those for whom everything comes easy; but, nevertheless, it is given, because he forces, extorts from the depths of creative nature what he wants. He truly is a γεωργός, a farmer, for he, straining, plows the soil of reality and, taking into account its cunning and quirks, by cunning and techniques, in which, however, there is more habit and an empirically found method than inspiration and speculation, he grows the fruits that he expects. George is not inspired and does not soar; but he is not immersed in selfish calculations: his practice has something cosmic, broader than simple self-interest, like his thought, never fiery, not pure, not self-sufficient, never outside of practical tasks and intentions. In notebook No. 8 (according to the general account XXXVI), Valya, my sister, wrote down on April 27, 1914: “Pavel in Sergiev told me about the characteristics for various names. For example, I wrote down the name GLEB. The name is not ancient, therefore it is not yet sufficiently defined, not fully formed. Overall good. In appearance there is something childish, unfinished, some underdevelopment, uncertainty. Large head, upper body more developed. The hair is light, but not quite. Tastes are also childish: love for sweets and starchy foods. Doesn't like wine, except in pathological cases. The gait is slightly bouncing. The speech is measured, narrative, sometimes interrogative, sometimes exclamatory in certain places. A person who is not outstanding in intelligence, but not stupid. With an inclination towards goodness, easily and directly susceptible to good impulses, sincere and simple. Honest and moral, incapable of evil.” Catherine. It is necessary to more clearly demonstrate her ability to create difficulties where there are none, in fact, at least where they would not have any other name. Thus, Catherines are rarely satisfied with their husbands; they inappropriately seem to them too unexalted, insensitive, etc. Although they are not bad husbands, Ekaterina. 1) Elena. Gossip girls. Enchantresses. 1915.III.25. Sergiev Posad. Names, as the first manifestations of character, are realized more and more clearly. Like a precious stone, each name begins to shimmer in the mind with thousands of colors of empirically known characters. Each contains an infinite number of possibilities, and yet, all possibilities are about one thing. This is one thing - a name. I know that the most Russian name is Ivan. Meekness, simplicity (or simplicity). I have an aching desire, “the desire of my womb,” to have a son, Ivan. I want to give birth to a son, Ivan. 1915.IV.16. On the exam. Sergiev Posad. Onomatological notes. Each course has a bunch of names. The predominance of one name or another, a successful or unsuccessful combination of predominant names, the vividness of the expression of one or another name gives the course one general impression, which becomes more definite at some distance from the course, when you somewhat forget individual persons, and your private relationships, and affairs with the course. Thus, in the course currently being examined, “Nikolai” predominates, and this circumstance gives the course a proud and rational imprint. 1915.IV.10. Sergiev Posad. On the exam. It's surprising how few Ivanovs are among the students. This is bad. Obviously, in the spiritual environment there are few Ivanovs, and therefore there is no Ivanovism: simplicity and meekness. 1. Lazarus. A reserve soldier from the Poltava province, judging by his accent, a Little Russian. Confessed to me (1914.XI.15) in the Red Cross. Not very tall, overgrown with hair, the color of which is approximately chestnut. Something heavy and deeply earthy. I once offended my father; then he made peace with him and asked him for forgiveness, but he still felt heaviness in his soul and repented with heavy repentance. He answers questions about sins with long and indisputable reasoning - like a reasoner, although with him this is not reasoning, but simply heavy, lofty thought. Prudence is extraordinary. There are no special sins, other than a bad attitude towards a parent (who beat his wife and for whom the son stood up). There is nothing sinful about sex. He is submissive to his superiors, does not complain, and motivates everything with many reasons. If he had been bad, he would have turned out to be Viy; but, being good, it is simply heavy, like lead (although not painful). Something closed. 2. Lazarus (by Leonid Andreev). The same impression of heaviness that I perceived in case 1, but immeasurably more concentrated. The heaviness of leaden eyes. 6,394. Lazar Silantyich Efimov, a peasant from the village of Troitsky Ryaz, spoke about him to Fr. A . He was enormously tall, bent over from his own weight and from the feeling of awkwardness that he was taller than everyone else. Very humble and shy. “He always seems downtrodden, I think he’s embarrassed by his height.” 3. Lev Aleksandrovich Tikhomirov, former editor of Moskovskie Vedomosti. Not tall, wiry, now gray-haired. Red eyes, standing mane of hair. Anger that knows no bounds, pride, majesty. When located, he is very kind and friendly. A temperament that does not allow itself to be hindered. Harsh, stern, but can also be very kind. He was an extreme revolutionary, and remained so. Noble, but in rage knows no boundaries. Smart, well-read, with great interests; but his mind is sharp and tearing apart material like prey, it is not particularly fruitful: it always begins very strongly, and then ruins its activity, and there is no conclusion. He is harsh with family, but a family man is probably good. He loves money, is stingy, and is indignant at himself. Truthful and direct. Reasonableness and skepticism, but not weakening the pressure. 4. Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy (writer). Immeasurable pride, impetuosity, unbridled temperament, stinginess and greed for money, etc. Rationality, but not weakening the pressure, but rather giving it a dry heat. 5. Lev Semyonov (ich) Filatov, a peasant from the village of Troitsky Ryaz, Sapozhka, spoke about him. Alex r Giatsintov. Proud, if he needs something, he will steal it, but he will never ask for it. “Does not recognize any kindred feelings, nothing at all.” "Very smart guy." 7. In notebook No. 8, April 27, 1914, my sister Valya wrote down my words about the name LION: “The qualities of the beast bearing this name. There is also a similarity in appearance. Courageous, noble, proud, subject to anger, but not evil, even kind, generous. Hot, sharply gusty." Lyudmila is a heroic type. Demands from a man (and himself?) of the highest valor, heroism, chivalry and, on the basis of not finding this heroism, or the inability to see it, the search for theatrical heroism - dissatisfaction. Lyudmila Iv. Florenskaya (story by Petrov). Lyudmila in the story “Popadya” by P. Solovyov. Mary, an all-fragrant name, the best of names, not only women’s, but all names in general, the most perfect in beauty, and internally balanced. The ideal of femininity... Its light blinds me, and I speak about it on a higher plane. This is the name that (raises the entire thought of the mind) to a higher plane. But I’ll try to force myself to lower my eyes and look down at the plan with. Mish looks like someone he has known for a long time - from the first glance at Misha, it seems that he has seen them and known him for a long, long time. Names are open, easy to recognize, and closed... There are closed ones - like figs, and there are open ones - like apples. It’s difficult to talk about the first without knowing the personalities well, but it’s possible to talk about the second. Pavel is closed, Alexander is open. 1914.XII.10. Sergiev Posad. Natalia Aleksandrovna Kiseleva. A smart woman, strong willed, strong character. The performance is extraordinary. Her energy is indestructible. Firmness in doing what he recognizes as his duty. She is a strong and very devout believer, although somewhat of an Old Believer nature, outwardly more religious than internally. Not mystical. There is a lot of goodness where he considers it necessary to be kind; but can be cruel, harsh, even rude. Power-hungry. Straight. From a merchant family. Her fate is very difficult. She was married to an unloved man, the marriage was arranged in absentia in two weeks. The husband turned out to be almost illiterate, a drunkard, a carouser, and a libertine. He rudely mocked his wife, and in the end, he kicked him out of the house with his son and started living with his mistress. The son, they say, was an alcoholic; was ill and died young. His wife was frivolous and quarreled with her mother-in-law, and in the end they separated; Now she has gotten together with someone who is married. Nat. A-na was sick, she was cured miraculously - God’s Mother helped. Then she made a vow to devote herself to charity, and she did, even though she was rich. The husband is still alive. There are an infinite number of troubles in the shelter; life is very difficult. Proud, but restraining herself in the name of religious duty. Natasha, a merchant's daughter, from Pushkin (“Three Days a Merchant’s Daughter”). The girl is obviously brave, smart, with a great will. Not a timid one. Maybe quite cruel (?). Natalia Valdman (lives with the Rozanovs). Hermaphrodite, epileptic. Smart, with a man's mind. The habits are masculine, probably of strong will. 1) Nikolay. To add and clarify: There is a sense of sacredness in it, although there is no mysticism. This sense of sacredness relates to his faith, his care, his stewardship. This is not just a deed, but a sacred deed, a kind of anointing of him for the deed. Therefore he reveres him. Therefore, he is inclined to seek for himself and all kinds of support extremely, solemnly, and therefore, he can turn to people whose spirit of advice he believes and trusts, and what experience he does not know in himself. Nikolai is loud and tries to seem energetic and businesslike, although in reality he is not at all so energetic and businesslike. Ap. Peter, gray-haired, sankir robe, blue underneath. Ap. Paul, bakan robe, from under the green, Golden Gospel (cf. 30) (Face calendars of the 17th century of the St. Nicholas Monastery of Edinoverie in Moscow. Published by icon painter V. I. Guryanov. M., 1904). Works of St. John Chrysostom Fr. Ed. PB. Theological Academy. 1897. T. III, book. I. Conversation <to those who grumbled at the length of the teachings, and to those who were dissatisfied with their brevity;> about the names of Saul and Paul, <and about why the first man was called Adam - that it was useful and beneficial, - and to the newly enlightened> “...it seemed indecent to me to pass such a treasure of names without attention. The same thing happens with secular leaders; and they use double names. Look, for example, received, it is said, Felix... Porcius Festus (Acts 24:27); and also: he was with Anthipatus Sergius Paul (Acts 13:7); and the one who betrayed Christ to the Jews was called Pontius Pilate. And not only commanders, but also warriors often have double names; and even private people, for some reasons and circumstances, have double names. But as for them, it is of no use to us to inquire why they are so named; and when God gives the name, then one must show all zeal to find the reason. God, as a rule, does not say or do anything without reason and without intention, but everything (both says and does) with the wisdom characteristic of Him. So, why was (Paul) called Saul when he persecuted (the church), and renamed Paul when he believed? Some say that as long as he disturbed, shook and brought everything into disorder, and disturbed the church, until then he was called Saul, having a name for his work - for the very thing that disturbed (σαλεύειν) the church, and as he left these furies, stopped disturbing, stopped fighting, ended the persecution, then he was renamed Paul from what he stopped (the works of St. John Chrysostom. Published by the Theological Academy. 1897. Vol. I), <p. 101–111; 114; 117–118; 126–128; 141; 142>; (από του παύσασθαι). But such an explanation is unfounded and unfair, and I put it forward only so that you do not get carried away by empty interpretations.” - Empty - because 1) “[his] parents were not prophets and did not foresee the future” and 2) if the name came from Pavlova’s activities, then, having ended his persecution of the church, he should have changed his name. However, the name Saul is used both before conversion (Acts 7:58; 8:1; 8:3; 9:1; 9:4) and after (Acts 9:8; 9:11; 9:17; 9:22; 9:24; 11:29–30; 11:23, 25; 13:1–2). “So he is separated by the Spirit, but has not yet made a name! Only when he came to Salamis, when he found the sorcerer, then Luke says about him: Saul, like Paul, was filled with the Holy Spirit, speaking... (Acts 13:9). This is where the renaming began.” Of those renamed, “some received the name in adulthood, while others first, and even before their birth.” And God gave the Cross a name even before his birth: an angel of the Lord came and said... (Luke 1:3). “And the Cross received a name before conception and birth” (p. 117). “Isaac receives a name before he is born (Gen. 27:19).” “People [often] name (children) after their mothers, after the wives who gave birth.” Adam is also named from Eden, his mother, for this means “virgin land.” “With this name [God] wanted to remind him of the insignificance of his nature, and on the name, as on a copper pillar, he exposed the baseness of his origin, so that the name would teach him humility, so that he would not think too much about his dignity.” Conversation to those who reproached for the extensiveness of the introductions, Acts. 9:4 )>: With. 126 (137) “Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord (Acts 9:1). And in the Epistles he is called Paul: why did the Holy Spirit change his name? Just as a master, having bought a slave and wanting to show him his power over him, changes his name, so did the Holy Spirit then. He took Paul captive, and this one had recently come under the authority of the Holy Spirit, who therefore changed his name, so that from this he would recognize (new) power over himself. That naming is a sign of power is very clearly evident from what we do, but it will be even clearer from what God did with Adam. Wanting to make him understand that he is the king and ruler of everything, (God) brought all the animals to him to see what I would name (Gen. 2:19), thereby showing that naming names serves as confirmation of power. If you want to see this among people, and to know that those who take slaves from captivity often change their names, listen to what the Babylonian king did. Having taken Hananiah, Azariah and Mishael captive, he did not leave them with their former names, but called them Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego (Dan. 1:6-7).” But St. The Spirit did not immediately rename the Apostle, so that everyone could see that it was the same Saul who had previously persecuted and was now taken captive. “So, so that the sudden change of name does not hide the change of will, (the Holy Spirit) allows Paul to bear his former name for a long time: let him, when everyone knows that he is the one who previously persecuted the church, then, as it will be known to everyone, change his name. And what is the real reason, listen to how he himself says: he came to the countries of Syria and Cilicia. But we do not know the faces of the Jewish churches even in Palestine (Gal. 1:21–22).” And, since he was not known in Palestine, where he lived, then, especially, in other places. Out of fear of him, no one dared to look him in the face, but everyone heard the name of the persecutor. “That is why (the Holy Spirit) left him to bear his former name for a long time, so that he would become known to all believers, even those who were distant and had not seen him.” <p. 126–128>. A conversation containing reproach for those who were not in the church and an admonition to those who were to take care of the brethren; also, at the beginning of the letter to the Corinthians: Paul is called... (1 Cor. 1:1), and about humility. “...I will only say that the names of saints, in themselves, are honorable for those who love God, and terrible for those who sin.” So – Flm. 1:9; Gal. 5:2. “Just like a golden chain, a series of deeds (of the saint) are revealed to the mind of the attentive when remembering his name. And this brings us considerable benefit." Interpretation of the first eight chapters of the Epistle of St. Apostle Paul to the Romans. Bishop Feofan. T. I, M., 1879, pp. 22–23: "Interpreting Rome. 1:1, ep. Feofan notes: Our interpreters all give this change of name a heavenly origin. So St. Chrysostom believes that God Himself changed the Apostle’s name, and only solves the question of why He did this: “Why did God change his name, and rename him Paul from Saul? So that in this he will not be less than the Apostles; on the contrary, whatever advantage the supreme of the Apostles had, Paul also received the same, for the closest union with Him.” Bl. Theodoret writes: “He calls himself Paul, not initially, and having received this name from his parents, but having been awarded it by calling, just as Simon was called Peter, the sons of Zebedee - the sons of thunder.” – Others think so too. Nothing substantial can be said against this. The fact that this is not mentioned either in the Acts or in the Epistles is no reason: for St. Paul himself says that he had many revelations that he kept silent about. Others explain it naturally. From the East, Origen does this. He writes: “Why is Saul Paul? We find in Scripture that, as in the Old Testament, the names were changed, for example, Abram and Sarah - into Abraham and Sarah; so in the new grace Simon was renamed Peter, the sons of Zebedee - the sons of thunder. But this was done according to the command of God, but we do not see such a command regarding Saint Paul. Why should we look for a simple human explanation for such a change? Others thought that the Apostle took this name from the proconsul of Cyprus Paul, as a sign of submission to his faith, as victorious kings sometimes took names from the vanquished. You don’t have to give up this thought; but since we do not find such a custom in Scripture, we need to resolve this issue with our own examples. We find in Scripture that others had two names, and others even had three names: for example, Solomon - Jedidi, Zedekiah - Joachin (2 Kings 12:25; 2 Kings 25:27); and in the Gospel - Matthew - Levi (Matthew 9:9; Luke 5:27); Thaddeus - Lebway (Matthew 10:3–4; Mark 3:18). – Matthew says this, but Mark or Luke says differently. The Evangelists were not mistaken; but since it was customary to bear different names, one, one, and the other, another, used the name of some of the Apostles. – According to this custom, Paul also had two names. And while he acted among his people, he was called Saul, and when he moved among the Greeks and Romans, he began to be called Paul. Scripture itself, when it says: Saul, like Paul (Acts 13:9), makes it clear that it was not only then that this name was given to him, but that it had long belonged to him.” – But, if the Lord renamed him at the beginning of his conversion, then this too will be a long time ago (NB!!). Life and works of St. Apostle Paul." Op. F. W. Farrar. Per. from XIX English ed. A. P. Lopukhina. St. Petersburg, 1887, ; Hilleri, Onomasticum, p. 923, 926; Augusti, Denkwürdigkeiten, Siebenter Bd., pp. 351–352; Hellenic education of St. Apostle Paul according to the circumstances of his origin and life. Prof. N. N. Glubokovsky. - Christian Reading, year LXXXVI, 1906, May, ; Παῦλος ό καί Σαῦλος. "Christian Reading". 1914, May, pp. 643–644, according to papyri. 1) accuracy is antinomically associated with spontaneity. 2) He sacrifices small things in order to get big things, and passes by the secondary things for the sake of the main things. h6С Generous impulses and cruelty. force of will λημα: explain well. Pav(e)l – Παῦλ/οσ/ – Paul – Paul(us) – fr. Paul 1914.XII.20. Sergiev Posad. Petrovs are similar in structure to Petrovs, but are rougher than them. The Peters relate to the Petrovs as a young radish relates to an old and woody one. The facial features of the Petrovs resemble the facial features of the Petrovs, but the latter are vulgarized, more vague, in a word, a cheapened edition. Is it not because this happens that the Peters, in their seed, are very strong, and, therefore, give a strong imprint on their offspring on the Petrovs. And this imprint greatly overpowers the individual name. A very persistent woman. Kindness . 1. Tatyana Aleksandrovna Shilovskaya, landowner of the village of Troitsky, Ryaz. g., Sap u-da. A fatality hangs over her house, and the house itself is a nest of crime and Alastor - A woman of terribly strong character, very persistent in doing what she set out to do, without regard for the means: “the end justifies the means.” “I think that for her there is no abstract distinction between good and bad, but only in relation to the goal she has set. “I separated from my children; she is accused of murdering her father-in-law and husband (their deaths are mysterious) - for more details, see the letter to V.V. Rozanov. - Confused with her father, she married her son. Apparently, she has some kind of goal, making up her cherished goal. She doesn’t go to church, doesn’t recognize anything, but is superstitious. A. And something terrible will happen. 2. Tatyana Al-rna Alabina, after Socrates’ husband. - Firmness in the performance of duty, first socially, then in relation to the husband and children. Selflessness. Literary talent, albeit a small one. Intellectual interests. 3. Tatyana Larina (in “Evg On” by Pushkin). – Vyach spoke about her. Iv. Ivanov, that she is supposedly non-religious, but I think that, being Tatyana, she should not have been mystical. Yakov. In 1307, the Templar Order was arrested... On St. James's Day (July 25), which replaced... . St. blg. Queen Tamara - Queen of Georgia in 1184–1207. See: Vasmer M. Etymological dictionary of the Russian language. T. 1. M., 1986. P. 326. Firm, unyielding (French). See: Vasmer M. Etymological dictionary of the Russian language. T. 3. M., 1987. P. 137. “Grove” from “does not shine” (Latin). An example of an absurd etymology “by contrast”. It was first used in this ironic sense by the Roman rhetorician of the 1st century. according to R. X. Quintilian in the treatise “Training the Orator” (1.6, 34). Beneventum is the name of the city near which the Romans defeated the troops of King Pyrrhus in 275 BC. Derived from “bene” - good, good and “ventum” - outcome, “male” - evil. Further in the manuscript there is an omission. “Σαΰλος διώκτης” – Saul ... persecutor; “Σαούλ αΐτημα” – Saul... demand; “Σαουλ ζητημένος” - Saul... asked; “Σαουλ αιτητός ή κεχρημένος” – Saul... asked or in need: “Παύλος στόμα σαλοϊσμού ἣ θαυμαστός ἣ εκλεκτός” - Paul... hesitating or wondrous, or chosen; “Παύλος άνάπαυσις, ελάχιστος” – Pavel... interruption, smallest; “Παύλος θαυμαστός ή εκλεκτός σύμβουλος” - Paul... wondrous or chosen counselor; “Σαῦλος ό και Παῦλος” - Saul, aka Paul. In the preparatory materials for the work “Names,” Florensky’s note was preserved: “Insert my letter to Vl. into the introductory article to “Names.” A. Kozhevnikov about names.” So in the manuscript (editor's note) You might be interested in: