Time from the Vigils of St. Augustine

Already the beneficial luminary illuminating the earth disappeared from the sky, and its bright rays gave way to night, which embraced and confused all objects with its gloomy blanket. She invites people who are tired from the toils of the day to sweet peace. But while people indulge in sleep and enjoy the necessary rest, the quiet hours silently continue to flow. Time does not sleep: it is a huge river that takes everything with it, never stops: it flows quietly and without noise. And in a dream the man continues on his way; when it seems to us that weary nature seems to be resting, it is approaching its end. Carefree, we fall asleep and often, without closing our eyes, spend our lives in eternal sleep: we forget that we are wanderers on earth, and in order not to notice the journey we have already completed, we cover our perishable boat and indulge in sleep in it. Man cares only about how to prolong his delusion, and spends his life in pernicious oblivion of all the dangers and temptations with which he is surrounded. O foolish ones! stop deceiving yourself, cast off the lethargic sleep in which you are immersed and the disastrous carelessness. Tear off the veil and look at the shores from which you are constantly moving away. Gradually you leave them with the speed of lightning: with every minute one of these shores disappears from your sight, another appears, which disappears with the same speed; and after a thousand moves and detours along this winding river, you can at any moment find yourself at the mouth, which suddenly throws you into eternity. Man does not value time: however, it is a guarantee entrusted to him by heaven for the acquisition of eternal bliss; it is a treasure, the loss of which is irrevocable, and people for the most part squander it out of sheer vanity!.. Oh, believe me! time is a precious thing, the loss of which cannot be compensated for in any way! Oh, ill-fated days of my youth, where are you?.. Who will return these criminal years to me so that I can devote them to good deeds? Who will resurrect them for me so that I can wash away the shameful stains with which I have desecrated them? Alas! you are running away from me, you don’t hear my cry, you are constantly moving further and further away from me! In vain I strive to catch you even with a thought!... In vain I call on you... you are silent... you continue to fly away from me with the same speed! Alas! what should I do? All that remains is to accompany you with streams of tears and, shedding them at the foot of the Savior Cross, ask the heavenly King for mercy and mercy. Life is short: we have barely left the cradle, we are already standing at the threshold of the coffin. All people yearn and complain about this every day, but do not know how to spend their time. For many of them it is even an unbearable yoke: the days seem like centuries to them, they are exhausted from boredom and fatigue 1 . Meanwhile, the hours are flowing, and as if they were not flowing quite quickly, it is necessary to speed up their pace with thousands of absurd inventions in order to quickly get rid of time. Reckless! to live this way means not to live, but to throw off the life given to us for the decoration of the soul and the acquisition of virtue: life is the time given to us for planting on earth the fruits of immortality, which we must taste in the eternal dwelling; spending days in shameful inaction, spending them in empty amusements means not living, but walking only with the living and being truly dead, like a withered tree that still holds on to the root, but no longer bears fruit. O we wretched mortals! We are never more successful than when we are concerned about our destruction. Everything foretells to us that we must soon disappear from the face of the earth; but, unfortunately for us, we do not want to listen to such a saving voice and are trying in every possible way to drown it out. We walk on graves, being sure that the grave will soon open for us: every moment of our life can throw us into it, and we step with a firm foot, as if we should not have died. Every day we see countless numbers of living people disappearing before our eyes; without fear we continue to indulge in the most vain amusements, always plunging deeper and deeper into our lethargic sleep. But suddenly the earth opens its abysses: then, overcome with fear, we would like to open our eyes, but it’s too late: the time has come to close them forever. Time devours human generations like a reaper who removes the harvest from the fields; but while some disappear, others appear, which in turn are replaced by similar others, so that the emptiness caused by the incessantly acting scythe of death is barely noticeable. So gradually wave follows wave: the river is never in the same position, but meanwhile it is still filled with water and continues its flow. Where are the generations now that inhabited the earth in the last century? where did those that existed in centuries gone by? Like river water, they flowed and disappeared into the mouth of eternity. With each setting of the sun, part of the human race perishes; every night in its dark shroud carries away forever many of the inhabitants of the earth: and man, in his carelessness, still clings with all his heart to the earth, as if he should never part with it. The history of nations is nothing more than a continuous record of the birth and death of people: at every step the earth presents us with examples of human frailty and the triumph of time. Everywhere I find cultivated fields that were once steppe; I see populated cities where once there was wild nature, where solitude reigned; but I also find ruin where once there was plenty, destruction where magnificent capitals flourished. I run my attentive gaze over the piles of stones overgrown with thorns and moss, but I can’t recognize anything. My thought strives to penetrate these ruins and, extracting the elapsed centuries from the dust with which they are covered, clearly presents to me all the objects in their then position. Here were the royal palaces; a fortress was erected here with a slender fence of insurmountable walls; populated cities stretched up to this point; judges gathered here; here is the square where people indulged in entertainment. My thought is transported to that time and follows all the movements of countless former inhabitants; but suddenly I look around - the dream has disappeared, and only piles of ugly stones remain before my eyes!.. Ancient peoples! you are no more; and you, stones, terrible ruins, sad remnants of the dwellings of vanished tribes, which once formed churches and homes for the living - what are you now?.. How many times did joy and joy reign within your walls? How many tears were shed? Here they were depressed with grief and sighed with love. Now it's over forever! This is how a person’s career on earth ends: all his efforts, extensive assumptions, lofty plans, huge undertakings, joys, sorrows - everything perishes with him, everything disappears under a handful of earth. Oh Babylon! oh Troy! cities that were once so glorious and powerful - you are no more! In your destiny I read the future fate of those kingdoms that are now paying attention to the universe. There is nothing permanent on earth: everything earthly has an end, and everything that has a beginning also has a limit beyond which it cannot cross. Everything that is illuminated by the sun shares its movability; everything finally succumbs under the weight of centuries, everything succumbs to the destructive force of time. Time is a wheel that, turning around non-stop, continually brings back the same phenomena. Famous states, great nations! you have ended your existence, your career is completed. Ages long past have seen your increasing glory and power: subsequent ones have seen you in the highest degree of greatness, but later ages have seen your fall and finally your destruction. While you were inclined to fall, other states arose, other peoples began to rebel. And they will pass just like you: and with their fall, the thread of centuries, developing more and more, will bring others, who in turn will disappear. This is how cities and kingdoms are destroyed! In vain do thousands of militias, one after another, use their armed forces to support them: the irresistible flow of time carries everything away with it. Meanwhile, a person relies, counts on time and lives as if he alone should not experience its destructive effect. It places its hope in time; but the moments of his extravagance are short. Time carries him along, death strikes him, and here he is, prostrate, lying unconscious: his eyes have gone out forever, his tongue is motionless, his face is covered with deathly pallor. He was a man - now he is a cold corpse. What benefit did his criminal insolence serve the wicked? What was the use of all the pleasures of life, the respect and wealth that he enjoyed? Yesterday he could still have received forgiveness for all his errors; now everything is over for him, his soul already takes its eternal place in its eternal home, and on earth they will soon completely forget about him. Terrible is the fate of the one who moved away from God and did not know how to take advantage of the time of His mercy, who, blinded by reckless pride, did not heed the instructions of virtue, because he believed his death was still remote. Immersed in a deceptive peace, he quickly ran through the short course of life: he lived unnoticed until the last day and reached the extreme connection that should connect his time with his eternity. The fatal hour has come, he sees his delusion and would like in vain to get rid of such a terrible sentence: inexorable time rushes by, not heeding his cry, and eternity absorbs him in its depths, from where no human power can tear him out. Do you want time to pass unnoticed for you? Dedicate your life to virtue. A pious Christian does not grumble, neither for time, nor for life, nor for death: he quietly and calmly continues his path, without violating the laws of nature. But he is mad who wastes his days, rebels against Heaven and resists the Creator. An internal struggle tears his chest apart. Lusts confront lusts, his heart becomes a victim of a thousand opposing passions. We waste our years, but we are tied to life; we are killing time - and together we want to resurrect it; we strive for death - and we fear it. Like two spouses living in disagreement and always mutually dissatisfied, soul and body are forever at enmity as long as they are united; The time has come for separation - they fall into despair. Such is the lot of a frivolous person. He is afraid of boredom, and boredom clings to him and haunts him all his life. God combined pleasure with the useful use of time, and suffering with the loss of it. When boredom overcomes us, hurry up and take up useful activities: this is the most effective remedy. Inaction is not rest: the soul can feel true pleasure only when it has food suitable for it; when she is idle, she feels unbearable melancholy. Joy is a fruit that can only ripen in a soul that practices virtue, and for those who do not find pleasure in this, life is torment. Time in itself is nothing, but its price is eternity. It is a coin given to us by God so that through it we can be redeemed from eternal misfortune. But we spend this treasure on various vain objects, and if, after the departure of our soul from temporary life to eternal life, we are doomed to eternal misfortune, then there is no one to blame for this but ourselves. We have destroyed the order created by God, we have squandered the price of inexhaustible riches in this short-lived life; Therefore, wouldn’t it be just to deprive us of these benefits when the time to enjoy them comes? Then we will remain in the poverty that we have prepared for ourselves, because God will not accept into his kingdom the one who wasted such a precious treasure. The dwelling of this unfortunate man will be eternal darkness; an unquenchable fire, constant remorse, despair and torment will torment him forever for the harm he has caused to himself and for resisting the will of God. Father of Mercy! You tore me out of such a terrible abyss!.. How can I thank you for such excessive love: Great God! Enlightened by the luminary of faith, I see the gloomy lake of the rejected, I see the flame rising from this terrible place; I hear the sound of red-hot chains and the cry of despair of those who, having spent their time on earth, beg in vain for just one hour 2 . Trembling runs through all my limbs, and horror penetrates all my senses; my thought shudders at such a disastrous picture. Merciful God! without Your ineffable mercy, I would still be the same as I was before: stubborn, ungrateful and a victim of the most destructive delusions; death would find me in this terrible situation; my fate, my ill-fated fate, would have been decided irrevocably. I would be forever separated from You, O God of mercy and generosity!.. Lord! how great and ineffable are your mercies. ABOUT! how sincere is my repentance!.. My gratitude to You is boundless!.. Who will separate me from Your love? Is it tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or the sword? (Rom. 8, 35). No! No! I trust in Your mercy and intercession! If my strength fails, You, Almighty, will strengthen me. Neither life nor death, nor people, nor earth, nor heaven can tear me away from Your love! Eternal! May I also be with you forever, may my love for You be eternal! Mortals! lift your eyes to Heaven! Stretch them onto the ground, measure the abyss with them: both here and there is eternity - an eternity of bliss or an eternity of torment. Time must lead you to one of these two opposites. Choose... good or bad: the use of time will solve an issue that is important to you; Don't forget: the sentence will not be cancelled. Think and do not use temporary life for evil. But if, by misfortune, you are guilty of this, then do not fall into despair: devote the rest of your time to correcting your first, sinful life, and let time itself serve as a means for you to redeem the bliss that you ruined. The bad use of time can still be erased by time. This is a still new, unappreciated dignity that God, in his infinite mercy, appropriated to time. While we are on earth, while we are alive, we can abandon vice, lag behind errors, and we can still reject the eternal sentence. In this extreme, the Savior offers us His blood: He Himself is eternal love; He is always ready to ward off from us the harmful consequences of our corruption and justify us with the works of His mercy. He wants to accept us into His heavenly Kingdom, if only when separated over time, in exchange for an immaculate life, you bring Him the due tribute of a truly contrite heart and signs of sincere repentance. With this intention, God postpones His vengeance and does not send punishment after the crime. All the time that we use after we have been subjected to His just wrath is a gift of His boundless love, which calls everyone to repentance and hastens to punish, but in every possible way wants to have mercy. The Lord is always ready to accept us into His arms and forgive our sins: in a short time we can gain Heaven and find God. But if we delay our conversion, one moment is enough for death to consume us, and then death is eternal, irrevocable. Then what will remain after us is only what we sowed on the earth and what we ate from time to time. He goes by, it’s the end of everything; one eternity is motionless. O mortals! beloved brothers! Resort to virtue to reward the hours lost in vain amusements and amusements! Revive this heap of lost days, destroyed by vice! Think that the loss of time is more than the loss of blood: it is true suicide. Nikolai Borisovich Golitsyn, prince (1794–1866) - writer, musician and philanthropist, son of Prince. Boris Andreevich Golitsyn. Following family tradition, in 1810 he entered the service as a harness cadet in the Life Guards Horse Artillery, and at the end of the same year he was promoted to second lieutenant. However, in 1811 he was dismissed from service “for lack of diligence and constant negligence.” A year later he again entered service as a non-commissioned officer in the Kyiv Dragoon Regiment. He was an orderly under Prince. Bagration during the hostilities near Lida, was shell-shocked, and upon returning to the regiment he was promoted to the rank of ensign. For some time he was an adjutant of Count Sivers and Count Osterman-Tolstoy. In 1814 he was awarded the Order of St. Anna and St. Vladimir 4th degree, golden saber and rank of lieutenant. With the rank of captain in 1818, he was transferred to the Pavlovsk Life Guards Regiment, and in 1821, due to health reasons, he retired with the rank of lieutenant colonel. In 1823 he returned to military service. In 1830–1831 headed the Tambov gendarme team, but already in 1832 he was again dismissed from service due to illness and assigned to the Ministry of Finance with the renaming of collegiate advisers. During the Crimean campaign, he commanded the Novooskol squad of the Kursk militia with the rank of colonel. He was married twice: from 1821 to Elena Alexandrovna Saltykova (1802–1828) and from 1829 to Vera Fedorovna von Pushman (1809–1872). From his first marriage, a son, Yuri, was born, who later became a musician; from the second - Boris and Nikolai, known respectively: the first - for composing music, the second - for literary experiments. Golitsyn, living in St. Petersburg, studied music and literature. In 1828, he was one of the co-founders of the Society of Music Lovers and organized a total of about 300 concerts throughout Russia for charitable purposes. In 1836, he participated in one of the trial rehearsals of Glinka’s opera “Lives for the Tsar”. His name became famous in the musical world because Beethoven dedicated to him the overture Op. 124 and three string quartets. Correspondence with Beethoven lasted from 1822 until the composer's death (1827). Golitsyn was an employee of the newspaper “Northern Bee” (1828–1858) and the magazine “Bulletin du Nord” (1828–1829), and wrote a lot for other metropolitan magazines. In 1838, his French translation of Pushkin’s “The Fountain of Bakhchisarai” was published. He was also friendly with the poet I. I. Kozlov, whose poem “Chernets” was published in French in 1836 and 1837. At the same time, he published original works: “Officer's Notes, or Memoirs of the Campaigns of 1812, 1813 and 1814.” (1837); “Moving through the Caucasus Mountains” (1837); "The Tell-Tale Ghost" (1837); "Effusion à la vue des beautés de la côte méridionale de Crimée" (1837); "Essais poétiques" (1837); “La bataille de Boro-dino, par un témoin oculaire” (1839 and 1840) and much more. In addition to literary studies, the book. Golitsyn was fascinated by the idea of ​​reuniting East and West. Warning Vl. about this. S. Solovyov, he wrote essays devoted to the problem of the reunification of the Churches, albeit from a clearly pro-Catholic position. For the anonymous essay “On the Reunification of the Orthodox and Catholic Churches,” published abroad, he was subjected to house arrest and secret surveillance for several years. The published work is one of many examples of secular exhortation from the mid-19th century addressed to contemporaries. Look for the designated “original” for composing the book. Nikolai Golitsyn, of course, is meaningless - he does not exist. A text with approximately the same content was reprinted many times throughout the 19th century. entitled “Time: (From the works of Blessed Augustine, Bishop of Hippo)” “Athos leaves”, published by the Athos Russian Panteleimon Monastery. See: Athos sheets (one hundred sheets No. 1–100), published by the Athos Russian Panteleimon Monastery (M.: Printing house of I. Efremov, Bol. Yakimanka, Smirnova’s house, 1888). Augustine's works were translated and translated a lot, but not all of these Russian editions reached the reader. Most often these were Augustine's sermons, excerpts from the Holy Scriptures with moral content. People were afraid to publish the theological works of the father of Latin patristics, or an arbitrary presentation was made based on the translation. See, for example, the publication: “Christian Science, or Foundations of Sacred Hermeneutics” (Kyiv, 1835), in which there are many cuts and lengthy arguments that do not correspond to the original “De doctrina christiana”. Serious, focused translation work began later. In general, the beginning of the 19th century. in this regard, it was not much different from the second half of the 18th century. See about this: Uvarov M.S. Blessed Augustine in Russian translations of Catherine’s time // Catherine the Great: The Epoch of Russian History: Abstracts of reports. St. Petersburg, 1996, pp. 103–107. Boredom and fatigue are a characteristic motive for the dreamy rejection of everyday routine by the aristocratic wakefulness of the spirit of a secular person. It is noteworthy that in the publication “Athos Leaves” a “vain man” is generally called “bored”, and not an aristocrat satiated with the pleasures of worldly life. In the biographical information we did not specifically mention the influence of Catholic doctrine on the views of the prince. Golitsyn, nevertheless, here is a clear sketch of Dante’s “Inferno”.