Response to the article: "Moscow academic historian on the life of St. Sergius", published in the magazine "Strannik"

I wrote this answer immediately after the booklet of The Wanderer, received at the academy, was indicated to me, so that it was intended to be published in the April booklet of The Theological Messenger, published in the second half of March. But for some unexpected reasons, I considered it necessary to stop typing. During this stop, my irritation against the creator or creators of the libel, of course, passed, and now the main motivation for me to publish the answer is to refute the scientific charges brought against me in the libel. In the January book for the current year 1893 of the magazine “Wanderer” there is an article: “Moscow academic historian about the life of St. Sergius. (E. Golubinsky. St. Sergius of Radonezh and the Trinity Lavra created by him. Biography of St. Sergius and Guide to the Lavra. Sergius Posad. [1892]", signed with the letter I. Already by the very title of the article, the reader guesses that it is not an ordinary review of a book or an ordinary criticism of a book, but something special. If the article were an ordinary review of a book or an ordinary criticism of a book, then why on earth would it be signed with the words: “Moscow academic historian”? It is clear to everyone that these words do not express special respect for me, but mockery of me, neglect, or even contempt for me, and that through these words it is meant to draw the reader’s special attention to the article, to tell him: read, read... Having followed the invitation made by the title of the article and turning to it, the reader is convinced of the complete validity of his guess. The article is indeed not a review of my book or a criticism of my book, but a very libelous libel against myself, filled with slander and insinuations about me and making such a comment about me as if I were something of a monster. The libel, as a type of human writing, undoubtedly belongs to those types of this writing that are the most ancient in origin, for the passion for slander, insinuation and abusive language appeared among people immediately after, after a short time of righteousness, they became sinful people (although the very name libel for written works that encroach on someone’s honor and good name is not very ancient - it appeared in Italy, in the 16th century). But if the libel can boast of its antiquity, then on the other hand, the deep contempt for it on the part of all decent people is equally ancient. In order to show Mr. I., whom I will further call by his anonymous name 1, how the classical Greeks and Romans thought about libel, I wanted to bring in a number of extracts from classical Greek and Roman writers. But then I realized that he belongs to those people who “don’t give a damn about your classical Greeks and Romans,” and that a reference to these latter would only give him a reason to insinuate against me that I was inclined towards paganism. Leaving the classics alone, I will refer anonymously to the Christian fathers of the church and precisely such fathers who should have double and indisputable authority in his eyes. In one place of his work, reproaching me for knowing the monastic community, he gives some reason to assume that he is a monk; our Orthodox Greek-Russian monasticism is monasticism according to the rule of Basil the Great, so that Basil the Great should be recognized by our monks as their teacher par excellence and superiority. So, let the anonymous person know that Basil the Great imposes an extremely severe punishment on a monk who slanderes his neighbor (Works of Basil the Great in the Russian translation, vol. V, 3rd ed. p. 208, q. - rep. [26] - that false speech against one’s neighbor for evil reasons, as the anonymous author allows himself to do in relation to me, he ranks among the most serious sins (ibid., p. 320, vonr. - answer [273] and that about fighting from around the corner, if not only a monk, but also a layman allows himself to resort to it, he speaks with the greatest contempt (vol. VII p. [65]. The libel against me could have been written for two reasons - either out of fanatical hostility towards my beliefs and my direction, or out of personal hostility towards myself. The libel against me, as a historian of the Russian church, could have been written out of fanatical hostility to my beliefs; but who read my book about Rev. Sergius, he knows that there is absolutely nothing in it that could arm even the wildest fanatic against me, so the incentive to libel against me, as against the historian Rev. Sergius, there must be an assumption of personal hostility towards myself. Indeed, with his book about Rev. Sergius, I could arouse the personal enmity of a certain writer: in one particular question regarding the life of St. Sergius, to which two answers are given and in which the writer and I found ourselves disagreeing, he had to concede victory to me; then, responding to his polemic against me on this issue (anonymous, without calling me by name), I allowed myself in my book to laugh somewhat at his ignorance (also anonymously, without calling him by name). But if my suspicions about the author of the libel are true, then I am sincerely sorry that a person has such extremely painful pride that clouds his reason. Being completely insignificant as a historian (namely, as a historian, but not as a narrator in general), our “certain writer” may have very great merits in other respects, which I do not think of denying or disputing at all. Meanwhile, according to the general recognition of all decent people, a libel filled with slander and insinuation is a vile and despicable means of revenge, by deciding to resort to which a person greatly soils his reputation 2 . It is truly regrettable to me that a place was given to a libel against me in the magazine “Strannik”. Everyone knows that the editor-publisher of “The Wanderer,” Mr. A. Ponomarev, is a professor at the St. Petersburg Theological Academy. Thus, one professor of the academy gives space to a libel against another professor of the academy: this is something far from entirely right... I, of course, do not at all make the claim that Mr. Ponomarev, as a professor of the academy, should not publish anything at all against me in his journal: let him publish the most cruel and most merciless criticisms of my books - whether or not answering the criticism, I, of course, will not say anything against Mr. Ponomarev’s publication of them. a single word; but libel is another matter. But I don’t think that Mr. Ponomarev would resort to that pathetic excuse that it is difficult to draw a line between merciless criticism and libel. The line is completely clear: criticism, whatever it may be, exposes and proves the real shortcomings of the work; and the libel slanderes and insinuates, or simply scolds without proving anything (is this the title of the article: “Moscow academic historian on the life of St. Sergius” required by the most merciless criticism?). And it would be good if the libel was composed in such a way that only I would be scolded in it and all others would be carefully shielded; but this is not the case: the lampooner clearly expresses his disdain for academies and academic science, and clearly laughs at academic degrees. Consequently, the professor of the academy does not find anything strange in contributing to the production of libels in which the honor is violated and the dignity of the academies is humiliated. There is no action without a reason; why should there be a reason for the action of Mr. Ponomarev that he placed a libel against me in his magazine. Thinking alone and together with friends, I could not think of any other reason other than the desire and hope - with the help of a scandalous article, to acquire an extra five or ten subscribers for a magazine among the numerous lovers of everything scandalous... Of course, no one forbids an academy professor, if he publishes a magazine, to take care of acquiring subscribers: but is it a professorial way to take care and try to acquire them by placing lampoons in his magazine? However, it is possible that Mr. Ponomarev will answer all my lamentations with the words of Aristophanes’ Athenians: καὶ ταῦτα δὴ σμικρά, but this is nothing!.. 3. I will give anonymously detailed answers to all his accusations against me - to slander, insinuation, distortion and reinterpretation of my speeches and his blatant abuse in such a way as to follow his famous (not particularly extensive) work point by point, for which purpose I will write it out for myself department by department. So, here I go. “Among the various publications that were published on the day of the 500th anniversary of the memory of St. Sergius of Radonezh book by prof. Golubinsky, the title of which has been written down by us, thanks to the great fame of its author-historian, attracts special attention. The reader thinks that they will be harmed by the life of the boyar family of that time and the picture of Rus' at that time, and the circumstances that nurtured the soul of Sergius Bartholomew and aroused in him an early inclination towards monasticism, and the life of the monasteries of that time, and a deep analysis of his character, etc. But from the very first pages the reader sees that the author is writing not so much the life of the Venerable, but a criticism of the life written by Epiphanius. The author passionately wants to say something that no one has said (sic) before him, and he certainly wants to stab Epiphanius. This desire sometimes reaches the point of... funny. Having praised Epiphanius, for example, for the fact that “he portrays to us not the dreams of his imagination, but precisely the true Sergius as he was,” the author immediately continues: “we are not looking for information from the biography writer about what Sergius was like and how he was, so to speak, towards himself, in his own, for himself, life - we know even without the biography writer that he had a highly holy, strictly ascetic life”... That’s what we want. ask the author: what is superfluous in what St. Epiphanius told us about the holiness of Sergius? And how could he, Mr. Golubinsky, have better known the personal properties of St. Sergius if his biography had not spoken about them? But in any case, why is the author dissatisfied with Epiphanius? “But we want to know from him,” Golubinsky continues, what Sergius was like in relation to other people.” So what? Isn’t Epiphanius talking about this? He speaks, and Mr. Golubinsky immediately brings his tin. Why did he need a trick against Epiphanius! Probably for the same reason why he exposes this humble student Sergiev as a braggart (note 6 et cetera), reproaches him for “effective oratorical awkwardness” (pr. 5, pr. 24 et al.). Anonymous, on the one hand, reproaches me for not meeting the requirements of a good biographer - that I do not have this, that, and that, and on the other hand, he reproaches me for allowing myself to declare my imperfect satisfaction with Epiphanius. But here in reality - if on the one hand, then not on the other hand, and one thing serves to justify me in the other. This is precisely why I am not entirely satisfied with Epiphanius, because with his life, St. Sergia does not give me the opportunity to satisfy the requirement that a good biographer should satisfy. Consequently, there is one of two things: either to the biographer of Rev. Sergius should not be subject to the same requirements as any good biographer, or the biographer of St. Sergius, who does not have the opportunity to satisfy the requirements that are presented to every good biographer, thanks to the insufficient satisfaction of Epifaniev’s life, has the right to be not completely satisfied with this latter, i.e. Epiphanius. But to the biographer Rev. Sergius, of course, should be subject to the same requirements as any other biographer; This means that I am completely in good spirits when I express my slight dissatisfaction with Epiphanius. Anonymous would like a good biography of Rev. from me. Sergius; For my part, I would like exactly the same thing, that is, to write a good biography of St. Sergius, but is deprived of the opportunity to do this thanks to Epiphanius; Does the anonymous author have the right to reproach me for the fact that I am not completely satisfied with Epiphanius? If he reproaches me for something for which the blame lies not with me, but with Epiphanius: then, I believe, it is clear that, thinking to reproach me for Epiphanius, in fact he reproaches none other than this Epiphanius. Being not completely satisfied with Epiphanius, I do not at all unjustly take away from him his merits, but give him all his due: without regard, I do not recognize the life of St. Sergii for completely satisfactory; but in a relative way, in comparison with other lives, I recognize it as a very good and even quite outstanding life. My speech about him is as follows: “Unfortunately, it is impossible to say about the ancient life of St. Sergius (that is, this particular Epifaniev), so that it is completely satisfactory, so that it represents such a biography of him or such a biography of him, in which we would find both a living image of his personality and a detailed narrative about his activities. But this regret should be expressed not in relation to one life of St. Sergius, which is still comparatively very good and even quite outstanding, but in relation to the decisive majority of our ancient lives” (pp. 1–[2]. If, in view of the evidence now made, the anonymous person, so to speak, turns around and says that if I do not reproach Epiphanius, then I am doing something much worse, I reproach the majority of the writers of ancient lives; in that case I will answer him: let him read the histories of the Russian church by Rev. Philaret and Macarius, let him read a special study about the lives of V.O. Klyuchevsky (“Ancient Russian Lives of Saints as a Historical Source”), and he will see that in this case I am not at all flaunting originality, that is, I am not expressing dissatisfaction out of a desire for originality, out of a passionate desire to say something that no one has said before me, but I am saying exactly the same thing that others are saying (or, since I am speaking after others, I am only repeating these others). So, the general reproach to me from the anonymous person for this or that I allow myself to be not completely satisfied with Epiphanius is completely unfounded, because my some dissatisfaction with Epiphanius has its full basis. Regarding the particulars that the anonymous author would expect to find in the biography of Rev. I wrote. Sergius (“The reader imagines what will appear before him”, etc.) it must be shown that, carried away by the desire to show his complete acquaintance with all the requirements that are presented to real historians (with the goal, of course, of boasting of this acquaintance), the anonymous author indulges in complete deceit. “To depict the life of the boyar family of that time, to draw a picture of the Rus' of that time,” etc., etc. Only the most complete ignoramus in Russian history can make these demands with a light heart. With great pleasure I would depict for you the life of the boyar family of that time: but how would I do this when I have no data for the image (in this case, of course, no longer through the fault of Epiphanius)? With great pleasure I would paint you a picture of the Rus' of that time: but how would I paint it when there is almost nothing to draw from, when Rus' of the 14th century. stands before us in such darkness, in which we are completely unable to discern anything living (let alone say that the pale picture of Rus' in the 14th century, as far as possible, does not at all relate to the biography of St. Sergius, but refers to the general history of Russia). I’m talking about the life of the monasteries of that time, and it’s impossible for me not to talk about it based on my ideas about the Venerable. Sergius as a transformer of the life of monasteries. I am not talking about the circumstances that nurtured the soul of Sergius-Bartholomew and aroused in him an early inclination towards monasticism because, on the one hand, Epiphany did not say anything about this, and on the other hand, and most importantly, because the demand for speeches about this on the part of the anonymous person, to put it unceremoniously, is simply his stupidity. Rev. Sergius became what he was not as a result of some circumstances about which absolutely nothing is known, but from the properties of his nature and by the grace of God. Rev. Sergius revealed himself to be a great faster almost immediately after his birth, while still a child in swaddling clothes: what circumstances aroused in him an inclination towards fasting? And when the anonymous person says that he expected from me a deep analysis of the character of Rev. Sergius, then this is not just stupidity on his part, but also something more. Deep analysis of the soul of Rev. Sergius... Wouldn’t this be a great and very inappropriate insolence on my part, against which the same anonymous person would cry out with all his might, who could bring such accusations against me on this matter and make such insinuations against me that I would be forced to save my soul in order to save it? I refer the anonymous author to the famous biography of St. Sergius, compiled by Fr. Hieromonk (now Archimandrite) Nikon (1st edition printed in 1885, 2nd in 1891); in the preface to this biography he will find deliberate, supported by a reference to Metropolitan. Philaret, speeches about the fact that I, like every biographer, Rev. Sergius, should not have ventured into such a deep analysis of his character (2nd ed. p. VIII). The words of the anonymous author: “From the first pages the reader sees that the author writes not so much the life of the Monk, but a criticism of the life written by Epiphanius,” if they were corrected as follows: “the author writes not only the life of the Monk, but also a criticism of the life written by Epiphanius,” they would be completely correct. I really am not only writing a biography of St. Sergius (brief, although if possible complete), but also criticism of the life of St. Sergius, belonging to Epiphanius. I made criticism of the life written by Epiphanius one of my deliberate tasks, and I did not hide this from anyone, but told everyone about it with whom I had to talk - it is quite possible that I spoke about this to the anonymous person himself. And it would be very stupid to hide something that there is no need to hide at all. Biography of the Rev. Sergius without criticism of his life, which belongs to Epiphanius, and the biography is very good (although not free from shortcomings, like any human work) was written before me, this biography belongs to Fr. Nikon, which we indicated. In order not to write the same thing that was written about. Nikon, and to make some addition to it, I wrote a biography of St. Sergius with criticism of his life, belonging to Epiphanius (in order not to impose my criticism on readers who do not want criticism, I do not include it in the text of the biography at all, but place it exclusively in the notes). But I don’t quite understand what it means that an anonymous person accuses me of criticizing Epiphanius, or, better said, I don’t understand it at all. Does he really want to say that Epiphanius is a person who is not subject to criticism? It is true that he assigns to Epiphanius the titles of Venerable and Blessed, but these titles that he assigns to Epiphanius do not at all mean that the latter is a canonized saint, but testify only to his desire with his special respect for the biography of the Venerable. Sergius to more sharply expose my imaginary disrespect for him. But if Epiphanius had been a canonized saint, then this would not at all deprive us of the right to criticize his historical writings, but would only impose on us the obligation to treat his person (personality) with due respect. In general, I do not think that the anonymous person put forward the principle that the lives of saints as historical works are not subject to historical criticism; that would be too much 4. We do not dare to accept this anonymous opinion, characteristic only of some completely ignorant person, that Epiphanius is not subject to historical criticism, bearing in mind the example of Fr. Nikon. O. Nikon treats Epiphanius with the greatest, no less than anonymous, respect, and yet in some cases he prefers to follow not him, but his abbreviator Pachomius, and not even Pachomius, but only some copies of the abbreviated Pachomius Life (p. 243, note 80, speeches about the source miraculously published by St. Sergius). When an anonymous person reproaches me for my passionate desire to say something that no one has said before me, he brings a general accusation against me, which can only be answered with a general denial. Prove your words with examples or whatever evidence you want, and then I will refute you. But how can I respond to an unfounded accusation and isn’t it very easy to level any unfounded accusations against a person? However, Demosthenes also said that libelousness consists precisely in bringing all sorts of unfounded accusations against people: ἐξελέγξια δὲ μηδὲν (this means to be a libelant - the Greek sycophant corresponds to the new libelouser we have adopted - to accuse of everything and prove nothing). The anonymous person accuses me of his passionate desire to stab Epiphanius at any time, completely in bad faith, in a sneaky and, one might say, Jesuitical way. Firstly, to confirm his words, he points to just one case. Let us assume that the instruction would be fair: is it really possible, on the basis of one case, to accuse me of a passionate desire to stab Epiphanius, it is implied: in any case? But an anonymous person can only point out one case only by resorting to a deliberate and malicious reinterpretation of my words. Starting to depict the personal character of Rev. Sergius on the basis of Epiphanius, I say: “We are not looking for information about what Sergius is and what he was like in relation to himself, so to speak, that is, in his own life, for himself - we know even without a life writer that he had a highly holy, ascetic life: but we want to know from him what Sergius was like in relation to other people. So, according to the depiction of the biography, in relation to other people the Monk Sergius was "... etc. (p. 30 beginning). Will anyone who does not harbor personal enmity towards me and has no inclination to misinterpret me find, I say, in these words of mine a reproach to Epiphanius for speaking about the holiness of St. Sergius? I want to say that when it comes to the personal character of Rev. Sergius, then it is in vain to talk about his high holiness, because this is well known without any speeches, and so I use an oratorical turn: “we are not looking”, etc. If someone tells me that I use an oratorical turn, but a particularly skillful (successful) one, I, perhaps, will not argue: but in any case, on the basis of it, can I be accused of reproaching Epiphanius for speaking about the holiness of St. Sergius? And the anonymous author, with feigned bewilderment and feigned regret (with feigned pain in his heart) for Epiphanius, whom I insulted, exclaims: “I just want to ask the author: what’s unnecessary... Why did he need an outburst against Epiphanius?” The vile meaning of writing and assimilating my antics against Epiphanius is completely clear: “if I allow myself to act against this humble disciple of Sergiev, then what kind of person am I in relation to my direction”? Further, we will see, however, something else. I am not at all making Epiphanius a boaster, but I am only saying that he uses in the life of St. Sergius, words that were not used in living Russian speech and were probably taken by him from books (klyusya, skrili, posmagi) in order to boast of his learning. To present a person as a braggart and to say about him that he shows an inclination to boast about his learning are completely different things, and from the fact that a person has an inclination to boast about his learning, no one will conclude that the person is a braggart; and therefore, accusing me that, by pointing out Epiphanius’s inclination to boast of learning, I expose him as a braggart, is unfair. Epiphanius uses incomprehensible words for some special reason. If the anonymous author finds it unfounded to indicate the motivation that I indicate, then let him indicate the motivation that can be accepted with greater validity. But he does not indicate a different motive at all; therefore cannot indicate; and if he can’t point it out, then why is he accusing me? I find in Epiphanius a spectacular oratorical awkwardness in his speeches about the baptism of St. Sergius, where he says: “the priest, having announced him and prayed a lot over him, baptized him with spiritual joy and diligence” (p. 84, note (5). Namely, I find inconsistency in the words: “having prayed a lot over him,” since over St. Sergius at his baptism, of course, no more prayer was prayed over than at the baptism of any other person, or no more than what is required and as usual, this incoherence, as I point out, was also recognized by Simon Azaryin, who in his edition of the life, instead of the words: “having prayed a lot,” put the words: “praying according to custom” (ibid.) And that Epiphanius was the greatest orator and a person very inclined to oratorical effects, and in some cases it was possible for him to admit incoherence, regarding this, without exposing his own assurance, which, of course, unacceptable in this case, I will go to Rev. Macarius (Ist. V, 232 beginning) and to V. O. Klyuchevsky (Old Russian Lives, p. [93]. And who again prevented the anonymous author from providing a satisfactory explanation instead of my unsatisfactory explanation? “Let us, however, allow ourselves a few comments on the order of the pages in the book and the notes to them... “Without any apparent reason, Mr. Golubinsky denies the legend that the Rostov Varnitsky Monastery stands on the site of the birthplace of St. Sergius. Here, without any need, he talks about the “carnal conception” of St. Sergius, in refutation of Snegirev’s assumption that this “conception” supposedly took place on the site of the St. George Hermitage in Gorokhovetsky district. It’s somehow strange to refute such opinions, obviously based on a misunderstanding of the word “conception of Sergius,” that is, the founding of the monastery by Sergius.” I deny the legend about the Varnitsky monastery not without any visible reason, as the anonymous author lies, but directly indicating this reason (p. 81, note (3). The Varnitsky monastery is located only 4 (or even 3) versts from Rostov, meanwhile, about the estate of the parents of St. Sergius Epiphanius says that it “was not part of the Rostov reign “zelo near the city of Rostov”: is it possible and would it be natural for Epiphanius to say about the estate, located only 4 (or even 3) gates from Rostov, that it “was not within the boundaries of Rostov, not very near the city of Rostov?” St. Sergius, and it is directly stated that “by whom exactly and in what year exactly on what occasion, but whose permission and whose support was built (the monastery) is unknown” - III, 500. Based on the words just given, we can confidently believe that the legend appeared after the writing of the History of the Hierarchy. And I, of course, had a very sufficient incentive to doubt (I precisely doubt, and not positively reject) the tradition of such non-ancient antiquity... Even if I spoke unnecessarily about the “carnal conception” of St. Sergius to refute Snegirev’s assumption, then the trouble would not be great and it would be strange for me to point this out reproachfully. But I found and find that I was not speaking in vain and that my remark was not only not unnecessary, but on the contrary, it was necessary and that otherwise I would have been subject to fair reproach for the omission. The point, which is not entirely clear from the anonymous author, is the following. The late I.M. Snegirev found a letter from Tsar Feodor Ivanovich, given to the Georgievsk Desert, located in the Gorokhovetsky district of the Vladimir province, in which it reads: “behold, the Tsar and the Grand Duke ... granted me to the desert of the life-giving Trinity and to the great martyr of Christ Yegorgius, where the conception of the great miracle worker took place.” Sergius, in Gorokhovetsky district”..., and concluded on the basis of the letter that the carnal conception of the Rev. Sergius followed in the Gorokhovetsky district and then his parents, when his mother was pregnant with him, moved to Rostov. It seems strange to the anonymous author to refute Snegirev’s opinion, which is obviously based on a misunderstanding of the words: “conception of Sergius.” But Snegirev’s opinion is not based at all on a misunderstanding of the words, but on the very inexperienced and strange expression of the royal letter that misled him. The direct meaning of the words: “where the great wonderworker Sergius was conceived” is obviously where the carnal conception of the Venerable took place. Sergius, and there would not be another royal letter in which the words of the letter found by Snegirev are explained as meaning that the Rev. Sergius conceived and founded the desert, it is not impossible that the false opinion about the conception of St. Sergius in Gorokhovetsky district would be the general opinion. Any reader who will read Snegirev’s book without prior information about the Rev. Sergius, agrees with his erroneous conclusion. That’s why I considered it my duty (and an indispensable duty) to make my remark. And then I also allow myself to resort to the auspices of Fr. Nikon. In the life of Rev. Sergius, read by Rev. Philareta. Chernigovsky in the Lives of the Saints, in the story of the visit to St. Sergius into the desert of the first disciples, it is said that the very first one to come, Vasily Sukhoi, came from the banks of the northern Dvina. This is an obvious mistake, a scribe or a typographical typo instead: from the top, or from the upper Dubna (flowing very close to the Trinity Monastery), and yet Fr. Nikon, although he recognizes this as an obvious mistake of the scribe, that is, he recognizes it as something that would not be worth talking about at all, considers it his duty to say about it (note [64]. “Describing the place where the Lavra was founded, Golubinsky says: “A small river flowed among the forest... Where did he get this from? In the life of Epiphanius it is directly stated that it was possible to find a little hearth in the low places, but not a single elephant about the river. The author needed it only in order to later deny the tradition coming from the time of Pachomius (from the half of the 15th century) that this river is the source that was sought by the prayers of the Reverend.” How do I really know about the river when Epiphanius doesn’t say a word about it? But Epiphanius doesn’t say a word about the fact that when St. Sergius founded the Lavra, then the sky hung over the place on which he founded it. If I were to say that over the place of the Lavra at the time of the founding of the last venerable. Sergius hung the sky, would an anonymous person ask me: how do I know this, when Epiphanius doesn’t say a word about it? I know about the river very simply, from the fact that it still flows under the monastery. When the anonymous person further accuses me of denying a tradition dating back to half of the 15th century, then, of course, he wants to say not only that I am a bad scientist, but also that I am a very daring scientist who does not recognize any traditions. But what do you, reader, say about a person who accuses me of something that, on the contrary, I should accuse him of, or blames it on a healthy one? You will say, of course, that he’s good! And anonymous does exactly this. The point is this. Monastery of St. For some time during his life, Sergius was in poverty from lack of water, and the monk miraculously delivered water to him. The biography of St. Epiphanius says that he miraculously brought out a “great source” of water; the abbreviator of Epiphanius’s life, Pachomius the Serb, says the same; but in one list of Pachomius abbreviations, as indicated by the late A. N. Gorsky (Historical Description of the Lavra, Chapter II, note (2). Instead of a source, it is said about a river, i.e., that St. Sergius did not bring out the source, but created a river. Some of the modern (i.e., contemporary to us, present) biographers of St. Sergius, wanting to distinguish themselves and become famous for the novelty of the opinion, for which the anonymous author accuses me of passion, ardently They stood for this river against the source. Anonymous is one of the supporters of the river and I blame him for not recognizing that St. Sergius created it, but I will ask him in turn: what right does he have to prefer one list of Pachomius’s reduction to all the lists of Pachomius and then to all the lists of Epiphanius? Doesn’t this mean to act completely arbitrarily and without the slightest respect for the authority of witnesses? If absolutely all the lists of Pachomiev’s abbreviations spoke about the river, then even then we would not have any morality to prefer him to Epiphanius, but should simply see in him nothing more than an arbitrary correction of Epiphanius (cfr Klyuchevsky’s Life, p. [131]. I indicated in my book that this assumption about the river appeared in a very simple way; and, having taken the river away from people who wanted to become famous for their new opinion, I, of course, brought them into rage; the anonymous author belongs, as I said, to the number of supporters of the river and here, by the way, he is irae at me (hence his anger, and in a somewhat stronger and more accurate translation - his rage). a river flowed through it; from here he concluded that the river did not exist before the founding of the monastery and that it was created by St. Sergius after the founding of the monastery. But the river has nothing to do with the issue of water and, so to speak, is completely on the sidelines. It was very shallow, and its muddy water was so bad that it was not suitable for drinking. Rev. Sergius, living alone in the desert, and then with the monks of the monastery who appeared near his cell, took water from a source or spring, near which he placed his cell on the bank of a river. Over time, the source closed, and the monks found themselves without water on the banks of the river, for which they had to go to another source, which was located far from the monastery. Then Rev. Sergius miraculously produced another “great source” of water under the monastery. In my book the reader will find detailed speeches about all this (pp. 36 and 92 5. “In order not to agree with the generally accepted opinion, he resorts to the interpretation of names from Finnish words, although of course he does not know the Finnish language. What is simpler than the words: “Makovets”, “Peshnosha?” For five centuries they were understood in Russian as derivatives from the words: makovka, pesh wore - according to Golubinsky this seems like an invention “lovers of the intricate,” whereas he himself is a lover of the intricate... He refers the reader to the Finns if he wants to know the meaning of these words, but he himself never says what they mean.” Here the anonymous author wrote something about which I want to say to him: “five centuries, having climbed our Trinity bell tower, are looking at you, sir (father?), from its height and throwing up their hands.” The word “makovets” really dates back five centuries, and even more than five centuries; it is also true that some old Russian people derived it from makovka or, more precisely, understood it in the sense of makovka, which I speak directly about in my book (p. 89, note [13]; but in fact, to derive the word makovets from the word makovka means to show oneself a philologist, as they say, home-grown and to be laughed at, if not by chickens, then at least by good people: let the anonymous person turn to the real ones with his demand philologists and he will be told that makovets (which does not exist as a Russian word, which I talk about in the book) but can be derived from makovka. As for the word "peshnosha", then, firstly, it is not a real Russian word - a real Russian word would be - peshnosha; and secondly, does the anonymous author know how great is the antiquity of the use of this word as the name of the Pesnoshsky monastery, which he considers five centuries old? Here is the 5th volume of the History of Hierarchy, published in 1813; on page 520 of this volume we read: “Pesnoshsky, Pestushsky or Pestushensky Nikolaevsky monastery of the Moscow Diocese is a provincial monastery. located in Dmitrovsky district”, etc.; “The name of the Pesnosha monastery comes from the Pesnosha River, on the banks of which it stands” 6 ... The history of the hierarchy, how we said above, it was compiled on the basis of information received from the monasteries themselves; therefore, even when the Pesnoshsky monastery is not called the Pesnoshsky monastery. But we can directly tell the anonymous person: from what time and from whom exactly does the name of the Peshnoshsky monastery come from. It dates back to 1815–1816, from the famous K. F. Kalaidovich, who lived in the Pesnoshsky Monastery from July 16, 1816 to July 16, 1816, and who compiled its description, published in 1837 (after the author’s death) under the title: “Historical and topographical description of the men’s cenobitic monastery of the Holy Wonderworker Nicholas, which on Peshnoshnya, with the addition of its charter and order. Compiled from the notes of the late K. F. Kalaidovich" (see this description of the monastery according to this 1st edition, p. 8 and refer to the book by N. Barsukov: "The Life and Works of I. M. Stroev", p. [22] 7. The anonymous remark that I, of course, don’t know Finnish is absolutely fair. But I think that every boy who has studied geography will explain how I, without knowing the Finnish language, can recognize the words: makovets and pesnosha for Finnish words. These words are not Russians; therefore, they belong to the people who lived in the Moscow province before us, the Russians; and everyone knows that before us, the Russians, Finns lived in the Moscow province. The words of the anonymous author: “he refers the reader to the Finns”... do not represent a caustic joke on me, but only what the Germans call Plumpheit and Dummheit, and together show that he is capable of contradicting himself in two lines: I did not even think of referring the reader to the Finns (as the reader himself can see by looking at my book - pp. 57 and 87, note [13]; and how at the same time anonymous and assumes, quite rightly, that I don’t know Finnish, and reproaches me for wanting to say what the words mean? If the anonymous person has a conscience, then after the certificate I made for him about the name of the Pesnoshsky monastery Pesnoshsky, he should take back his words about me that I myself am a lover of intricate things 8. “It is amazing with what self-confidence the author, instead of any evidence, simply wants to assure the reader with the same word: every now and then he comes across the expressions: “you need to think,” “you need to think,” “you need to imagine,” “things were, of course, like this,” etc., and all this when evidence is needed, because the author in such cases simply gives his personal opinion, contrary to the opinions of all biographers of St. Sergius. “The older brother, of course, strongly called the younger brother from the desert”... But excuse me, Mr. Doctor of History: where did you get this from? Isn’t it the other way around: the younger one begged the older one not to leave the desert?.. Where is the evidence of this doctoral “of course” of yours?...” If the anonymous person had confirmed his accusations with positive evidence, then it would be possible to answer; But why respond to unfounded accusations? Obviously, one cannot answer anything other than to repeat the words of Demosthenes that I have already quoted: , ἐξελέγξαι δὲ μιηδὲν (this is what it means to be a lampoon, to blame everything and not prove anything). In the life of Rev. Sergius does not know everything in a positive way; As for anything else, assumptions must be made. When it is necessary to make assumptions, I make them and at the same time, of course, I say: “you need to think, you need to think.” But not only is there nothing reprehensible in this, but on the contrary, it was my direct responsibility. I would not deserve reproach for making assumptions, even if I made unfounded assumptions, because people tend to make mistakes. It would be a different matter if I allowed myself to make some completely ridiculous assumptions. But for this to be so, the anonymous author does not provide examples at all and does not present evidence at all. There is no harm in giving your personal opinion when it goes against the opinions of everyone. And not only is there no harm, but if a person is convinced of the justice of his opinion, even if it runs counter to the opinions of everyone, then he must and is obliged to bring it, of course, supporting it with the evidence on the basis of which it seems to him more fair than all other opinions. It may very well happen that a person will express a new opinion that is completely unfounded. But from this only the same thing will follow as the relatively unfounded assumptions, i.e. that people tend to make mistakes. The man was firmly convinced of the justice of his new opinion; but the opinion turns out to be unfounded: what punishment is there for him, except for his opinion to be rejected? But to assign some other punishment to people who express new opinions, in the justice of which they are convinced, would mean saying to all human thinking: stop. If the anonymous person had directly pointed out some new opinion of mine that runs counter to the opinions of all biographers of the Rev. Sergius, and showed his groundlessness or absurdity, then I would answer him. And how to answer an unfounded accusation, as in the same words of Demosthenes: τοῦτο γάρ ἐστιν ὁ συκοφάντης, etc.? Why does the anonymous person, asking me his question, call me a doctor of history? A doctor of history, like a doctor of any other science, is something very respectable, and for every anonymous person, every corner NN and every nemo to express his disdain for this highest scientific degree and mock it, this is extremely regrettable, however, G.I., in all likelihood, belongs to those people who think that if we didn’t have doctors of any sciences at all, it would be much better, for this is a pathetic belief that our salvation in ignorance, we have quite a lot (Why, by the way, is it surprising at some anonymous person that he expresses his contempt for the doctorate in history, when the professor of the academy and, perhaps, the doctor of some science himself does not find anything strange in this, giving a place to libel in his journal). Where did I get the idea that Stefan knew Sergius from the desert, I clearly indicate with the word “of course,” that is, I clearly let you know with the word “of course” that I assume this. If I do not say that, on the contrary, Sergius begged Stefan not to leave the desert, it is not because I did not allow this - it goes without saying that I fully admit this, but because I did not need to talk about it, because I am not talking about Stefan, but about Sergius. Sergius went into the desert with a firm decision not to leave it; So, I want to say that he, despite Stefan’s flight from him, and despite the latter’s urgent invitation to leave the desert with him, remained faithful to his decision. I say this: “The elder brother, who could not endure the desert and fled from it, of course, strongly called out from it for his younger brother, who was faced with complete loneliness in the desert. But the Monk Sergius, having once arrived in the desert, no longer wanted to leave it, and when his comrade fled from him, he, placing his trust in God, decided to remain in the desert and alone in order to strive for a feat that he did not intend to undertake and in order to represent himself as an ascetic, hitherto unprecedented in our Rus'.” If the Words of Plutarch were not true, that then the anonymous person, of course, would not have asked me his question at all (I want to pester the anonymous person about pagan writers in the hope that perhaps he, seeing even these writers against him, will understand and realize that his behavior is very disapproving). Epiphanius, in the words of Golubinsky himself, presents the matter of introducing a hostel in such a way that one day, “completely unexpectedly,” messengers from the Patriarch of Constantinople Philotheus, etc., came to Sergius. The author says: “it is necessary to present things differently.. The Patriarch could not by himself send a message to Sergius, for he could not know about it at all.” But he himself says that it cannot be that St. Alexy, who spent a whole year in Constantinople when he was appointed metropolitan, did not tell the patriarch anything about the Venerable. Sergius. “You have to guess. Golubinsky claims that the patriarch wrote Rev. Sergius message at the request of St. Alexey (the author writes everywhere: “Alexey”, not “Alexy”)... Alexey and Sergius decided to resort to the authority of the patriarch, who would, with his voice, confirm and approve their good enterprise. It turns out that Sergius asked Alexy, Alexy asked the patriarch, who, at the request of the latter, wrote the message. Having received the message, Rev. Sergius acted, in the language of the same Golubinsky, “on his own,” pretended before the brethren that he did not believe that the message was written to him, and went to the Metropolitan, and only there he opened the letter. So, Epiphanius tells us the external side of the matter, and the internal meaning of the story is explained to us by the “doctor of church history.” But wouldn’t this be a blasphemy against the great and humble Sergius? Is it possible to allow pretense in his character? Or don’t believe Epiphanius, but believe Golubinsky, who says three times at one boundary: “it is necessary to imagine”, “it is necessary to think”, “it is necessary to assume”, and at the next time again: “it is necessary to think”... In my speeches about the introduction of St. Sergius of the hostel in his monastery, the anonymous person finds a contradiction: I, in his words, say that the patriarch could not have known about St. Sergius and at the same time I say that St. Alexy informed the Patriarch about Rev. Sergius, therefore, I say that the patriarch knew about St. Sergius. In fact, there is no contradiction in my speeches and only an anonymous person is interpreting them in an absurd way. I say that the patriarch himself could not have known about St. Sergius and that it is therefore necessary to notify the Patriarch of St. Alexy (p. [22]: what kind of contradiction is there? That St. Alexy informed the patriarch about St. Sergius, this must be assumed because the patriarch himself could not have known about Sergius: I have two positions that are in a causal connection with each other, and the anonymous person accuses me of contradicting himself; I’m talking about one thing, but the anonymous person seems different... “It turns out,” he says, that Sergius asked Alexy, Alexy asked the patriarch, who at the request of the latter, he wrote the message.” Indeed, almost this comes out, namely, that it was not Sergius who asked Alexy, but that Sergius and Alexy agreed among themselves (in my book, pp. 22–[23]: but what does it mean that this comes out? Does the anonymous author recognize such a presentation of the matter as incorrect, unfounded, he does not say anything; and therefore I must leave his words without any remark. If what the anonymous author reads in the second half of the written section as belonging to me actually belonged to me, then I would really allow myself to seriously blaspheme the Rev. Sergius. But do you know, reader, how an anonymous person reaches the point of accusing me of grave blasphemy against St. Sergius? Very simply, through vile slander against me or through the assimilation of speeches that I did not even think of saying. Since the charge of grave blasphemy against Rev. Sergius is very important, I consider it necessary to write out from my book the entire place in which I talk about the introduction of St. Sergius hostel in his monastery. Here it is: “The biography of St. Sergius presents the case of the introduction of a hostel in his monastery in such a way that one day, quite unexpectedly, messengers from the Patriarch of Constantinople Philotheus came to Sergius, that these messengers brought him a cross, a paramand and a schema as a funeral service or a gift from the patriarch, and together they brought him a message in which the patriarch, after expressing his joy about his virtuous life, exhorted him to complete The only main thing he lacked was to introduce a common life in his monastery, and that St. Sergius, after consulting with the holy Metropolitan Alexei and fulfilling the will of the patriarch, introduced a common life in the monastery. It is necessary to imagine the matter somewhat differently, namely, to think that the Monk Sergius introduced a hostel in his monastery not because the patriarch advised him to do so, but because he himself wanted it and what the holy Metropolitan Alexei wanted together with him, and that Sergius and Alexei only resorted to the authority of the patriarch in order to give greater firmness to their undertaking. The Patriarch could not send a message to Sergius of his own accord, for he could not shish at all about him (and it is completely impossible to think that the glory of Sergius could have reached the Patriarch already at the time to which his introduction of a hostel in the monastery should be attributed). It must be assumed that the patriarch wrote a letter to St. Sergius at the request of St. Alexei, addressed to him by the latter during his stay in Constantinople for ordination as metropolitan (he spent a year in 1853-54). And for Sergius and Alexei, as we said, they needed a message from the patriarch in order to use it to give their undertaking greater firmness. Representing themselves as exceptional people and God's chosen men, they were inspired by zeal to restore the true monastic way of life in our monasteries - community life. But what they were jealous about could not be at all pleasant for the majority of our monks and could not at all be greeted by them with readiness and joy. And so, in order to influence this majority, Alexei and Sergius decided to resort to the authority of the patriarch, who, with his voice as the supreme shepherd of the Russian Church, would confirm and approve their good enterprise. It is necessary to think that those sent by the patriarch who brought Sergius his letter were those sent by him who accompanied Saint Alexei to Russia after he was made metropolitan by the patriarch. And Saint Alexei returned from Constantinople after being installed as metropolitan in the fall of 1354. If the Monk Sergius had undertaken to introduce a hostel in his monastery, without having the patriarch’s letter, then there is no doubt that he would have met with strong murmurs against himself and even direct protests. In view of the patriarch's letter, which not only approved the enterprise, but even seemed to deliberately demand it, grumbling, we mean open, and protests were impossible; however, not all the monks of the Sergius Monastery agreed to live in a new way; Among them there were some, we don’t know how many, who absolutely did not want to live together and secretly left the monastery” (p. 22 beginning [23]. Be kind, dear reader, read the written passage not once, but twice and thrice, and then tell me honestly: is there anything here similar to the speeches that the anonymous author is learning for me? What will I answer him? I have no other answer to him except to remind him that Basil the Great imposes very severe punishment on slanderers. An anonymous person insinuates that I think Rev. Sergius is a man “on his own mind.” He doesn’t invent this “in his mind”, I have it; but only he, using his characteristic shameless way of creating accusations against me, gives my words exactly the opposite meaning, contrary to the sense in which I use them, instead of the negative meaning that they have for me, he gives them a positive meaning. Portraying the personal character of Rev. Sergius according to Epiphanius, I say that he “was gentle and simple without any admixture of cunning and the so-called “on his own mind” (there was in him “simplicity without variegation,” as the life writer puts it), page 30: and the anonymous person insinuates me that I think St. Sergius is a man on his own mind! “On page 43, Golubinsky writes a eulogy to the famous Mityai. “He was filled with as many virtues as Nikon (patriarch), if not even greater. But for some reason Saint Alexei did not quite like him, and this one preferred Sergius to him.” The author further says that “Saint Alexei later gave his blessing to Mityai for the metropolis.” It is a shame to read this comparison of Mityai with the Monk Sergius, whose monastery Mityai threatened to ruin to the ground. From this alone one can judge what kind of bird this notorious Mityai was. After all, for some reason his contemporaries called him such a humiliating name (half name). After all, the Pleasant of God himself predicted his death outside the fatherland (Golubinsky, of course, wisely keeps silent about this - it’s a legend!). “And suddenly - for some reason Saint Alexei preferred” this rogue to St. Sergius! How does this seem to you: for some reason? Therefore, the author does not understand this preference; therefore, the author believes that Mityai was no worse than Sergius?... “Mikhail, you see, was denigrated before posterity by Metropolitan. Cyprian, from whom he delighted the metropolitan see,” it was Cyprian who wrote the “blasphemous legend” about Mityai... Amazing passion: everything that was hitherto praised should be humiliated, everything that was scolded should be praised.”... It is absolutely true that I hold a new opinion against previous historians about Archimandrite Michael, nicknamed Mitya; but this is not at all out of my passion to praise what others scold, and to scold what others praise, but because I am convinced of the validity of my new opinion. There are known examples of the injustice of history to people, that is, that people were and are reputed to be very good people in it; Mityai, in my firm conviction, belongs precisely to the number of people to whom our history was unfair; I consider it my duty to restore his reputation, and I take credit for the fulfillment of this duty (and people like anonymous can laugh at me as much as they want). In the chronicles two biographies of Mityai are read: one, coming from a camp hostile to him (as I am sure and have reason to think, from Metropolitan Cyprian): in this biography he is strongly condemned; the other, belonging not to his detractor, but also not to his partial supporter: in this second biography he is extolled to the skies and presented as a most phenomenal person. Even if we subtract a little from the praise of the second biography, we will still be left with a most remarkable man 9 . It is said about Mityai that all the clergy hated him and prayed to the Lord God so that he would not become a metropolitan. From this they conclude that Mityai was not a good person. But the real conclusion from this is that he was an exceptionally good person (the anonymous author, of course, will hasten to laugh, but in vain, according to the proverb: if you hurry, you will make people laugh). Having taken over the administration of the metropolis immediately after the death of St. Alexy (which he was authorized to do by the patriarch), he immediately set about a harsh “overkill” of the clergy, who were not distinguished by much good quality at that time, and did not even spare the bishops, that is, he showed a desire to correct the clergy and hastily began to fulfill his desire; Naturally, the clergy, expecting their strict corrector in him, hated him and began to pray to God so that he would not become a metropolitan. St. Alexy, who was trying to appoint Rev. Sergius, then blessed Mityai as his successor and gave him his blessed letter - we know this from such a reliable witness as Metropolitan. Cyprian (who strongly reproaches St. Alexis for the letter). Even during the life of St. Alexy was sent from Moscow an embassy to Constantinople to the Patriarch with a request that in the event of his death, Alexy would not be recognized by the Patriarch as the Metropolitan of All Rus', Metropolitan Cyprian of Lithuania, but Mityai would be appointed as such, and a letter was received from the Patriarch in Moscow, which expressed full consent to the request and by which, in the event of the death of St. Alexia was given to Michael all power over the Russian Church except for ordination - this is news in a documentary way, from an official paper. It is absolutely not clear from anywhere that the nickname or nickname Mityai, which Archimandrite Mikhail had, was given to him as a mockery. But if this were so, then nothing would follow from this, for we know examples of unfair mocking nicknames being committed. Contemporary of Mityaev, St. The anonymous author, of course, does not consider Stefan of Perm to be a bad person; and yet his biography is the same Epiphanius who wrote the life of St. Sergius, reproaching his ill-wishers, says: “we know those like us and the nicknames of this kidah, who don’t even call you snoring”... (Monuments of Ancient Russian Literature, ed. Kushel. - Bezborodko. I, [161]. When I say that St. Alexy for some reason preferred St. Michael-Mitya to St. Sergius, then I absolutely do not intend to say anything offensive to the monk, and the anonymous author completely in vain comes into terrible (one must, however, think that it was done) indignation. My words refer not to Sergius, but to Alexy (as is clearly seen in their full form: “but for some reason Saint Alexei did not quite like him (Mityai) and this one preferred Sergius to him,” - page [43]. I want to say: St. Alexy knew that Grand Prince Dmitry Ivanovich Donskoy had chosen Archimandrite Mikhail-Mityai as his successor, and yet he tried to appoint St. Sergius as his successor: obviously, I explain this, that Mityai did not completely rule over St. Alexis and that the saint preferred him, that is, preferred to see St. Sergius as his successor. What is offensive to the latter and is there any reason to be in terrible indignation at my words? considering him to be an outstandingly good person, and not a very bad person, which I explain in the book. I also explain in the book that Mikhail-Mityai was angry with St. Sergius due to an excusable misunderstanding, and I express confidence that if Michael had not suffered a quick death, the misunderstanding would have been cleared up and he would have been reconciled with the monk (p. [44]. When an anonymous person reproaches me for not looking at the life of St. Sergius, compiled by Epiphanius, as a divinely inspired scripture: his reproach, which I spoke about above, must be recognized as completely unfounded. “Out of the desire to say a “new word,” Golubinsky reworks the entire chronology of the life of St. Sergius. Usually, researchers try to reconcile contradictions, if possible, in the data that already exist: they do not hesitate to simply present their assumptions as facts and use them to justify their chronology. This is what Epiphanius says, and to this day no one doubted that Pr. Sergius was made abbot at the time when the removed Alexy was in Constantinople in 1354. Golubinsky “believes” that this is “not right” and says that this event “should” be attributed to 1340–1341, when Metropolitan Theognost traveled to the Horde. Golubinsky said what was necessary: ​​it means that Epiphanius’ testimony has no significance, which means brother Pr. Sergius Stefan, from whose words Epiphanius wrote, forgot and confused the chronology for a whole 14 years, which means that the elders, Sergius’s disciples, probably witnesses to the event, also forgot everything when their abbot was promoted to this rank... Only Golubinsky knows all this perfectly well, after 500 years he corrects all this without ceremony, and how not to be surprised at his insight and great mind?.. Well, in fact: is it possible, is it permissible to treat the primary sources of the life of the Venerable One in this way? What is the chronology of the life of Rev. Sergius suffers from contradictions in Epiphanius and is not completely reliable, this is a well-known fact. Consequently, without possessing positive and reliable information regarding chronology, we can only establish it in a more or less probable manner; and for this we must inevitably resort to considerations and assumptions for which the anonymous author so cruelly executes me. For his part, he says: “Usually researchers try to reconcile contradictions, but possibilities, in the data that already exist”... The idea was not expressed by him entirely clearly and we do not fully understand him; but if he understands the agreement of contradictions through choosing a middle ground between them: then he gives ridiculous advice to do what has long been tried and what has long been ridiculed (from the contradictory chronological testimony of Epiphanius it follows that St. Sergius was born in 1314 or 1322; one scientist dealt with the contradiction very simply - he took the average figure; but other scientists only laughed at this). Without raising the entire Epiphanius chronology of the life of St. Sergius, which would require too long speeches, I will answer the private accusation that the anonymous person makes against me, namely, that I, rejecting the clear testimony of Epiphanius about the installation of St. Sergius as abbot in 1354, I attribute this appointment to a much earlier time. The reasons on which I attribute the installation of Rev. Sergius as abbot not by the year 1354, but by a much earlier time, the essence is as follows. Firstly, we have the undoubted fact that Rev. Sergius introduced a hostel in his monastery according to the charter of the patriarch. Filofeya. Patr. Philotheus occupied the department twice: the first time for a very short time from May 1354 to the beginning of the next year 1355; for the second time from the end of 1364 to the end of 1376. To attribute the introduction of the dormitory to the second patriarchate would mean to attribute it to too late a time, which both simple considerations and the positive data and indications we have speak against, as see in my book, p. 90, approx. 28. But if the introduction of Rev. Sergius in his monastery, the hostels in all likelihood should be attributed not to the second patriarchate of Philotheus, but to the first or to the year 1354: it will follow from this that the installation of St. Sergius as abbot must be attributed to a much earlier time, for between his installation as abbot and between the introduction of a hostel in his monastery there must be a significant period of time. Secondly, if we accept that Rev. Sergius was installed as abbot in 1354, then it would be necessary to accept that his monastery remained without an abbot for about 12 years (as is accepted by those who date the installation of St. Sergius as abbot to the year 1354; see, for example, the life of St. Sergius, owned by Father Nikon, 2nd ed. p. [76]. But I accept this I find it absolutely incredible. Epiphanius makes it clear that before St. Sergius was appointed abbot, there was no hieromonk in the monastery, and that the first hieromonk of the monastery was St. Sergius himself, who, at the same time as he was appointed abbot, was also ordained as a hieromonk for 12 years. Sergius and the brethren of his monastery did not find it inconvenient to call any elder abbot (hieromonk) or parish priest to perform the liturgy; this cannot be accepted at all. On the other hand, abbots in ancient times were not quite what they are now: they were obligatory spiritual fathers of the brethren, to whom the brethren came with their sins and sinful thoughts not two or three times a year, but weekly and even daily (sic, that is, exactly that). And allow Rev. Sergius and the brethren of his monastery could do without their spiritual father for a whole 12 years, again it seems absolutely incredible. Epiphanius says that the brethren of the monastery, turning to Sergius with a request to grant the monastery an abbot, said to him: “Father, we cannot live without an abbot” (lithograph. ed. fol. [90]; but for them to say to Sergius: “We cannot live without an abbot” only after 12 years of life, this would mean having something to do with them - and they represented the first associates Rev., too bad an opinion. These are the reasons to which in my book I attribute the appointment of the Rev. Sergius as abbot, but not by 1354, but by a much earlier time. But now I can cite positive evidence in my favor, which, when writing the quiche, due to the fact that I was extremely pressed for time, I omitted from there. There is an old catalog of abbots - archimandrites of the Trinity Monastery, and in this catalog, according to all known lists of it, it is said that Venerable. Sergius was abbot for 48 years. Since Rev. Sergius died in 1392, then according to this indication of the years of his abbess it will follow that he was appointed abbot in 1344. This differs somewhat from what I accept in the book, but it completely justifies me regarding the fact that the setting of Rev. I do not place Sergius as abbot in 1354, but move it far back from the last year. In the book I suggest that Rev. Sergius was appointed abbot by Bishop Athanasius of Pereyaslavl because Metropolitan. Theognostus was leaving Moscow (p. 89, note [21]; but this may presumably be the reason why St. Sergius was made abbot not by the metropolitan himself, and it was not the absence of the metropolitan from Moscow, but the fact that the area in which the monastery of the saint was located was given by the metropolitan to the management of Bishop Athanasius, so that the income from the area would serve as a means of support for him, the bishop. But what about the fact that Epiphanius, who wrote the life of St. Sergius, from the words of the elders of the monastery, who knew the entire life of the monk from the day of his birth, and from the words of his elder brother Stefan, directly and clearly says that Sergius was made abbot by Bishop Afdanasiy of Volyn, who lived in Pereyaslavl, at the time that St. Alexy was in Constantinople, in other words, he says directly and clearly that St. Sergius was installed in 1354? That is, we want to say how could Epiphanius, under the conditions now indicated, make a mistake in the year of the ordination of St. Sergius as abbot? We are not able to answer this question in detail, that is, with a direct indication of what exactly led Epiphanius into error. But that Epiphanius could have made a mistake is proven to us by the example of another equivalent mistake. He says that Rev. Sergius, who lived only 78 years and died in 1392, was by birth the same year with such events that took place in 1322 (that he was born in the year of such and such events that took place in this 1322 year), while in fact the year of his birth was 1314, i.e. makes a mistake for a whole 8 years. In the area of ​​assumptions hated by the anonymous author, the following can be said. Epiphanius knew very well that the dedicator of St. Sergius' hegumen was Bishop Athanasius, for Sergius, whose personal disciple he was, as one must think, honored the memory of the bishop with deliberate commemorations (this is still considered obligatory among priests in relation to the bishops who ordained them, since the missal obliges them to remember the named bishops even at every liturgy, see the rite of proskomedia); but he wrote the life of Sergius more than 50 years after the saint was installed as abbot, when it could have been forgotten why it was not the metropolitan himself who appointed him abbot, but Bishop Athanasius; searching for the reason for this, Epiphanius suggested that the reason for this was the absence from Moscow or the non-existence of the metropolitan in Moscow; By non-existence, for some reason it seemed to him most likely to mean that non-existence when St. Alexy was in Constantinople to be appointed metropolitan, and he expressed this assumption in the form of a direct statement or positive news (as was usual in the old days and as some new historians, who do not like assumptions, allow themselves to do). So, we say, it seems possible to us to explain the mistake to Epifaniev. But if someone could explain it more satisfactorily, we would not argue at all. “We could also give examples of the author’s superstition, but this is enough. In conclusion, let us point out the characteristic features of his inimitable language. Here, for the sake of originality, he spares neither Russian ears nor Russian grammar. Judge for yourself: “the elders were found by him” (p. [77], he himself subjected him ( [79], an order was given ( [120], behind the cells ( [15], behind the ditches ( [161), forced to leave Kyiv ( [611), Stromynsky, or Dubensky monastery, located 50 versts northeast of Moscow, near the village Stromyn, on the Dubenka River, which flows into the Sherna, a tributary of the Klyazma River, which currently does not exist”... What does not exist: a tributary or a monastery? ( [46] “On August 20, Dmitry Donskoy set out not only from Moscow, but also from Kolomna”... How is this? After all, Kolomna is 113 versts from Moscow: how did V. The prince manage to reach in one day Kolomna and get out of it? Isn’t it by rail?.. “You need to think like that! “Everywhere in the book there are words that are unpronounceable and not entirely euphonious: “communal life”, “peculiarity” and one can feel the passion for originality in these words. And they have to be used often, because Golubinsky believes Pr. Sergius was a reformer of monasticism in Rus': he, as is known, introduced communal living (but its pronunciation: communal living) in monasteries in the north of Rus'. The author presents the matter this way: Pr. Sergius, by agreement with St. Alexy, set out to establish a hostel in his monastery, and then introduce it everywhere. He had been occupied with this thought before, almost back when he lived alone in the desert. Everything was planned and arranged according to a written plan. And again, this view of the matter does not reconcile with the generally accepted opinion of the biographers of the saint of God. It is more natural to think that both the idea of ​​community life and its implementation appeared in Pr. Sergius gradually: after all, he looked at himself too humbly to start anything new himself, to be an initiator in matters of social and church significance. He may have thought about living in his monastery, but he waited for God’s will, waited and remained silent, especially since the brethren were not particularly sympathetic to this idea of ​​his, and for the sake of form, he did not consider himself to have the right to change the order without the special instructions of God’s Providence, as long as they lived as befits monks, and his disciples lived, of course, approximately. When the will of God came and a message was received from the patriarch, then he decided, with the blessing of his friend St. Alexia, establish a hostel. This is how the matter appears to us, in the light that comes from the spiritual appearance of the Pleasant of God himself. But Golubinsky “sees the matter differently,” not as Epiphanius writes and as we all thought about it before. “Yes, to tell the truth, his hostel does not seem quite like a monastic hostel: perhaps it’s good that he came up with a special word for it, instead of the commonly used one.” Although the anonymous author says that he gave quite a few examples of my superstition, but in fact he did not give a single example. This gives me great comfort. If a person who harbors strong personal enmity towards me and read my book with all possible attention, out of a desire to find errors in it, does not point out anything, then I will be given the right to think that my book is a very, very tolerable book. This consoles me all the more because, as I already said, when writing the book I was extremely pressed for time. When an anonymous person calls my language inimitable, he, of course, means inimitable in a bad sense, and inimitable in a bad sense means extremely bad, so bad that nothing can be worse. I did not and do not pretend to be a first-class stylist; but for my language to be extremely bad, for it to be so bad that nothing could be worse, only a person who harbors extreme personal enmity towards me for his offended pride and for whom I, of course, from head to toe, represent inimitability in the bad sense of the word, would want to say. If there really is any originality in my language (and from some, but at least, people I have heard approving reviews about it), then it does not depend on my intense desire for originality, which the anonymous author persistently accuses me of, but on nature. Every person, even the most insignificant, has his own characteristics, which are expressed in his language: the French proverb says: style c᾽est l᾽homme, - and this was also said by the Greeks long before the French. Giving examples that for the sake of originality I do not spare either the Russian ear or Russian grammar, the anonymous author addresses the reader with the words: “judge for yourself.” This is cleverly said. This means: if you, the reader, are an intelligent and educated person, then you must agree with me. And since the reader, of course, wants to consider himself an intelligent and educated person, it is possible that he will express a desire to agree with him (anonymous). Being forced to answer instead of the reader, I must say that the examples given by the anonymous author prove not that for the sake of originality I do not spare either the Russian ear or Russian grammar, but that he has an overly tender ear, that he may be a very decent stylist, but knows the Russian language poorly theoretically, that he studied not according to ordinary grammar, but some special one. In the phrase: “the elders were found by them,” the anonymous author is probably indignant at the word: “zastaty” as a form of the verb: to find, which is not commonly used. It may very well be that the form: “zastata” is actually little used; but it is completely correct grammatically, as well as impeccable in other respects: why couldn’t I, without asking myself the difficult question of whether the form is used or not, could use it? “His very self”, of course the noun: life, the anonymous author, as one must think, finds the expression incorrect. But let him review all Russian grammars, starting with Lomonosov’s grammar, and he will see that the expression network is a completely correct expression (masculine gender: himself, feminine gender: her very self, neuter gender: himself). “There was,” may be a little too loud for the anonymous ear, but in any case, the expression is correct - just as correct as “he took, he gave, he came, he left,” etc. (there are popular proverbs: “There was a horse, but he was ridden, There was a nobleman, but the jester changed” and others starting with “there was”). An anonymous person can consider “behind the cells, behind the ditches” to be incorrect expressions only if he does not know the Russian language: the double or complex preposition “by-za” is used by all Russian people both in oral and written speech. Why the anonymous author does not approve of the expression: “forced” we did not suddenly guess; the reason for disapproval, as one must think, is that the word: force has two meanings: to block or close (for example, with a shutter) and to force; but this in no way deprives anyone of the right to use the word: insert, as long as it is used in such a way that the speech does not come out ambiguous (having one and the other or an unknown meaning). It is absolutely true that in our words about the Dubensky Monastery there is some ambiguity that resulted from an oversight, but the ambiguity is such that it will not mislead anyone - formal ambiguity, not real. So, in the whole book, having looked at it very carefully, the anonymous author found almost nothing sinister in relation to language (this alone is truly “pathetic” ambiguity). But I will tell him this: his article against me is not very large, and is only 3 quarters or 6 pages, but I found in it not imaginary, but real, errors against language, more than how many he indicated in my book. At the very beginning of the article, he writes: “the reader thinks that both life ... and circumstances will appear before him: circumstances will appear, is this correct in grammar? “But from the first pages the reader sees”: pages of what? 10. That “Dmitry Donskoy on August 20 spoke not only from Moscow, but also from Kolomna” no longer refers to the language: but from the anonymous person in the written out department pêle-mêle or vinaigrette. A slip of the tongue can happen to anyone; I, too, could have said something so as to create an absurdity, the explanation of which would require the assumption that in the time of Dmitry Ivanovich Donskoy we had railways. To exult over someone over an obvious slip of the tongue, accusing that someone of what he said, i.e., as if he were capable of saying something absurd, is almost as stupid as accusing him of being absurd over an obvious typo. But when they write a libel, they do not consider the means - à la guerre comme à la guerre. You made a slip of the tongue, which implies an absurdity; ergo - you said an absurdity, ergo - you were able to say an absurdity: ha, ha, ha, professor of the academy, doctor of history, and allowed himself to fence off such a cute absurdity, to explain which it is necessary to assume that in the time of Dmitry Ivanovich Donskoy we had railways!.. But what could have happened actually did not happen at all, and my anonymous person makes himself his stupid, perhaps sincere, but most likely feigned, laughter, either due to the fact that he did not read my book properly, or due to his impudent confidence that no one will look into my book to check him. I really have the words: “On August 20, he (Dmitry Ivanovich Donskoy) spoke not only from Moscow, but also from Kolomna”; but my whole speech is as follows: “The Grand Duke came to the saint in a hurry - on the day or on the very day of his departure from Moscow against the enemy (he was with Sergius on August 18th, and on August 20th he set out)” and so on, above, p. 47. If I say that Dmitry Ivanovich Donskoy, having been with the reverend. Sergius on the 18th of August, was with him either on the day or on the very day of his exit from Moscow, it is absolutely clear that I attribute this exit from Moscow to either the 18th or the 19th of August; and if I attribute the exit to the 18th or 19th of August, then it is quite clear that I do not attribute it to the 20th of August; and if so, then it is absolutely clear that my words: “On August 20 he set out not only from Moscow, but also from Kolomna” mean not that on August 20, on the same day, he set out from both Moscow and Kolomna, but that on the 20th he set out not from Moscow, but from Kolomna. Then, here is my explanation that the matter could very well have been the way I present it (I present it not on my own, but on the basis of the chronicle). Dmitry Ivanovich Donskoy did not ride in a carriage, which was harnessed by six carts and which was pulled by the carts with an important step, as Tsar Alexei Mikhailovich rode in the second, at least half of his reign, but on horseback, and sometimes he rode at a walk, sometimes at a trot, and sometimes at a gallop, at full speed or at a full gallop. The circumstances under which he came to the Trinity required that he go at a gallop - at full speed, for during his very short stay in the monastery several messengers were driven to him from Moscow with a warning about the need, in view of the movements of the enemy, to hurry (as I talk about in my book - p. [47]. Let's assume that Dmitry Ivanovich came to the Trinity on August 18th in the morning, at about 8 o'clock, and that he stayed in the monastery, listening to mass and a prayer service and having lunch with the brethren, until 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Having galloped from Trinity at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, when could he gallop to Moscow? From Trinity to Moscow, having galloped 64 miles on horses previously placed along the road; Grand Duke's stable, he could undoubtedly gallop 15 versts per hour: therefore, he galloped from Trinity to Moscow in 4 hours and 16 minutes, or arrived in Moscow at 6 hours and 10 minutes in the evening. What I say about fast driving is not something incredible, here is the factual confirmation of my words. In the year 1089, on the night from August 7th to 8th, Peter the Great, fleeing from assassins, rode to Trinity from the village of Preobrazhenskoye. He was awakened “a little after midnight”; In preparations for escape, time passed, if not an hour, then half an hour, so that he galloped off at one hour after midnight. Having galloped at one hour after midnight, he galloped to Trinity at about 6 o'clock in the morning (Soloviev. Ist. vol. XVI, 2nd ed. p. [116], and on a horse from his royal stable he galloped only 20 versts, and the remaining 40 versts he galloped on the first peasant horses that came across or on the first that could be grabbed, and all the time he rode not during the day, but at night. Arriving from Trinity in Moscow on August 18, at 6 o'clock and 16 minutes in the evening, Dmitry Ivanovich spent the evening of August 18 and the first half of the day on August 19. Let us assume that on the 19th he left Moscow at noon and that an hour was spent on his solemn departure from the capital, so he galloped at noon. Kolomna at one hour in the afternoon. From Moscow to Kolomna 101 miles (according to Semenov’s Geographical Dictionary). Having galloped the same 15 versts per hour, Dmitry Ivanovich had to take 6 hours and 44 minutes to travel and arrive in Kolomna on August 19 at 7 o’clock and 44 minutes in the evening. Having arrived in Kolomna on the evening of the 19th, could Dmitry Ivanovich have set out from Kolomna the next day, the 20th? So, my presentation of the case does not at all require the assumption that in the time of Dmitry Ivanovich Donskoy we had railways. But if this is so, then I, for my part, know one modern biographer, Rev. Sergius, who makes us assume that in the time of Dmitry Ivanovich we had not only railways, but also today’s daily newspapers, and even almost telegraphs. Having spoken about the Grand Duke's trip to Rev. Sergius, this biographer later says: “The rumor quickly spread across the face of the Russian land that the Grand Duke went to the Trinity and received blessing and approval for the battle with Mamai from the great elder,” etc. The rumor could have spread quickly precisely at the present time with the existence of railways and daily newspapers, but at that time it could not have spread quickly. The rumor was then spread across the face of the Russian land by those warriors who were gathered from all corners of the earth by the Grand Duke to fight Mamai and who, after the Kulikovo victory, were sent home. “Everywhere in the book,” says the anonymous author, there are words that are difficult to pronounce and not entirely euphonious,” and in support of his assurance about everything, he finds it possible to point out just one word: don’t I have the right to drag out my usual: τοῦτο γάρ ὁ συκοφάωθης, etc.? The word “common living” seems to really be an uncommon word. But just as the word “common life” comes from the expression: “common life,” so I derive the word “common life” from the expression: “living in the community,” and I am ready to prove the use of this last expression in relation to monastic life with books in my hands. If an anonymous person finds a word unpronounceable and not entirely euphonious, it is, of course, because he has a very fragile (of course, it can break on an unpronounceable word) tongue and a very delicate ear. I use the word “community” not without intention. The fact is that the commonly used word “common life” is a worn-out word, so to speak, that it is often used about a monastic life in which there is very little community life on the outside and in which there is no trace of the living spirit of community life at all. So, for speeches about true community life, I use a new word in order to separate the community life that I am talking about and which I mean from any other imaginary community life... Anonymous assures that the matter of introducing Rev. I imagine Sergius’s hostel in his monastery as follows: “Pr. Sergius, by agreement with St. Alexy... according to the written plan.” His speeches are not entirely clear and it is not entirely clear what he is mocking here; but in any case, nothing like what he has, but I say and he, according to his custom, simply makes up things about me here; the reader can easily verify this if he looks at my book, in which I talk about the introduction of St. Sergius of the hostel in his monastery on pp. 20–23 (it is remarkable that the anonymous author, when he is not misinterpreting me and lying on me, directly quotes the pages of my book; and when he misinterprets and lies, he does not do this; in the latter case, he deprives the reader of the opportunity to trust himself, for although the reader will find a place in the detailed table of contents attached to the book in which I speak about any subject deliberately, but he There will always be a suspicion whether I am not talking about the subject somewhere else deliberately, which is not indicated in the table of contents). The words of the anonymous author: “And again this look”..., as speaking about a look that I do not declare at all, do not make any sense. What Rev. Sergius, even before being tonsured as a monk, had special views on monasticism; this is absolutely clear from the fact that in order to be tonsured as a monk and for monasticism (I would say: for monasticism, but I’m afraid to break the fragile language of an anonymous person) he did not go to a monastery, which would have been an ordinary thing, but, which was a completely unusual thing, he went into the desert. While he lived alone in the desert, of course, he did not think about a hostel, because it is impossible to think about a hostel alone. Whether he soon began to think about living in a hostel after the brethren gathered with him and a monastery was formed near his cell, I don’t know and I don’t say anything about it in the book; but I think and am sure that very soon. In his behavior as abbot of the monastery, St. Sergius clearly tried to imitate St. Theodosius of Pechersk, which I talk about in the book (p. 24 fin.). It is quite likely that one should think, as I also say in the book (ibid.), that the introduction of a hostel was prompted by Rev. Sergius is an ancient example of St. Feodosia. But, accepting this, in all likelihood one must think that he was well acquainted with the life of St. Theodosius, as the father of our Russian monasticism - that he read and re-read it when he was still living in the desert (“with full probability one must think... with all probability one must think” - this will drive my anonymous person into a rage: but let him rage for good health). Fighting with mills or with his own invention on me, the anonymous person says: “It’s more natural to think”... And I’m not at all saying that this is not natural, and I’m not at all thinking of saying that today Rev. Sergius came up with the idea of ​​​​a hostel, and tomorrow he began to put it into practice. The anonymous person's further speeches in this section represent something truly deplorable in relation to his reputation as a scribe (a bookish or to some extent educated person) and as a monk (which he makes one suppose to be). “After all, he says anonymously about Rev. Sergius, looked at himself too humbly to start (does the anonymous author consider this word very vulgar in this case?) anything himself, to be the initiator in matters of social and church significance.” Is the anonymous author really suggesting that the great humility of the saints lies in the fact that they renounced deeds that they considered important and desirable? This would be a strange humility! As for the initiative, no one says that Rev. Sergius took it upon himself - that’s what I’m saying, that Rev. Sergius introduced a hostel in his place in agreement with St. Alexy, and St. Alexy was the head, the supreme shepherd of the Russian church. “He may have been thinking about the hostel... they lived, of course, roughly.” To wait for the will of God as the anonymous person presents the matter would mean on the part of the Rev. Sergius to tempt God, and to tempt God is such a grave sin that the reverend will internalize it. It would be a great blasphemy against Sergius. It would have been much better for the anonymous person if he had not written these unfortunate words: “but for the sake of the form he did not consider himself,” etc. If the anonymous person considers the replacement of a separate life with a community life nothing more than the replacement of one external form of monastic life with another external form of life: so he (although perhaps the monk does not have the slightest idea about true monasticism - so he did not look into Basil the Great, who is according to the law of our monks, and in none of the ancient fathers who talk about monasticism, it exists... really, I don’t even know what it is (without looking at the fathers, let the anonymous person take at least the liturgical charter and read chapters 34-46 in it: and from it he will receive such a sufficient understanding of community life so as not to say that in relation to community life it is nothing more than just one external form). After his lies, the anonymous person says smugly: “This is how the matter appears to us in the light, which (which?) comes from the spiritual appearance of the Pleasant of God himself.” We assure him that this is how the matter appears to him in the light that comes not from the spiritual appearance of the Pleasant of God himself, but from someone or something completely different - that he is being deceived by some false light... “Yes, to tell the truth, his hostel seems... instead of the one in use.” I speak in my book about monastic community in quite some detail (pp. 20 fin. Sgg, 24–[27], and it would be interesting for me to see how an anonymous person would refute me, for by refuting me, he would refute Basil the Great and St. Theodore the Studite, on the basis of which, as two legislators of our monasticism, I speak about community life. Yes, here we would see truly an instructive example of how, because of personal enmity, a person is ready to reject everything (“if you believe in God, then I don’t believe in God”...). “One more thing about the originality of Golubinsky’s language. He uses the word “our” in a special sense that is unique to him. Here are examples: In addition to our life, the monk Epiphanius wrote another life ( [75], places our kind of monasteries ( [66] the chronicle speaks about our army ( [85], our tradition was created ( [101], the manuscripts belonged to our Elisha ( [103] etc. This manner sometimes confuses the reader: the author says, for example, “in the monastery it is told about the attempt of the archers to kill Peter during our stay with him) Trinity." Here the anonymous person can triumph over me with a complete and complete victory. I have more than once heard comments from some of our people, that is, our academics, about my not entirely laudable passion for “ours,” ours, ours,” and about my persistence in this passion. But, having allowed the anonymous person to triumph over his victory, I will tell him about all his most insignificant and unfounded quibbles about my language: if I did not know that a person was being burned by the fire of personal enmity towards me, and considered him to have no personal relationship with me, then I would have no difficulty in proving that this man, for whom two not entirely successful expressions in a book and two not entirely well placed commas in it, deprive the book of all dignity, even if it had real dignity - that this person belongs to the number of moral monsters who embody petty anger and arouse self-loathing. Finally, the “last” and most important legend! “A good half of Mr. Golubinsky’s book is the “Guide to the Lavra,” but we leave its consideration to others who are more familiar with the monastery of St. Sergius in her past and present state. We only wanted to share with the readers the impression we received when we became acquainted with the new book of the learned Moscow professor, and the comments we made were directed mainly against his general, unique manner of writing, or, so to speak, against “the dominant ability in him - f euté maitraisse,” in Taine’s words - to identify and evaluate historical figures. However, who is familiar with his “History of Russian. church,” he knows that this is a historian from whom the cold of the grave emanates, a scientist who brings a skeptical and doctoral-dismissive attitude towards his native past to a positive denial of the “living spirit” in all this past of Russian life. What science does he serve, what god does he worship?..” In the words: “However, who is familiar with his “History”... What science does he serve, what god does he worship”... the lampoon wants to present me as a terrible and mysterious monster, for what could be more terrible than a person from whom the cold of the grave emanates and who, so to speak, does not recognize anything sacred, and isn’t there a mystery about a person about whom it is not known what science he serves and what god he worships? It is very easy to call a person a terrible monster, just as easy as telling someone that you are a sweet and wonderful person in every way. But to call a person this way without providing any evidence, doesn’t this mean allowing oneself to commit outrageous defamation towards the person (an outrageous attack on the honor and good name of a person)? How, the lampooner will say, I don’t provide evidence - I refer to your History of the Russian Church? This is, of course, so, but do you show and prove with even a single word that in my History of the Russian Church I carry skepticism and a doctoral-disdainful attitude towards the native past to a positive denial of the “living spirit” in all this past of Russian life? No, you are only speaking with the doctoral quality of a libeler. Not intending to drag the defamator to court, I did not ask the lawyers whether I would have the right to do this under our positive defamation laws and whether I could be sure that the defamator would be convicted. But I submit him to the court of honor and conscience or to the arbitration court of all decent people... I am quite sure that all decent people will pronounce him a severe condemnation. But when the defamator claims that the coldness of the grave emanates from the sculpture, he does not understand where it is coming from. He feels the coldness of the grave, probably from himself. Ap. Paul, following the psalmist, speaks of people whose lips are full of slander and bitterness, that their throat (is) an open tomb (Rom. III, 13, Psalm V, [10]. So, from this open tomb, one must think, and the chill of the grave blows on the defamator... I don’t know if he is telling the truth when he assures of his familiarity with my History of the Russian Church. But is he really himself is familiar with her or knows about her only by hearsay, from others, in any case, he knows very well that to say about me on the basis of her what he says is a great absurdity. However, he wants to say something possibly terrible about me, and here he is, hearing the breath of the grave from himself and quite rightly accepting that for a person nothing can be more terrible than the cold of the grave, and claims about me that this cold blows from me. Whether the anonymous person is familiar with my History directly or knows about it from others, in any case he knows that I, as a historian, have criticism as my distinctive feature. Of course, he is one of those who accuse me of immoderate criticism (and I, for my part, will probably not decisively reject the accusations, except to strongly protest against the malicious suspicion of intentionality). But about a historian who has criticism as his distinctive feature, can one say that the coldness of the grave emanates from him? If ice can be called hot and fire cold, in general if it is possible to combine opposites into one place; then, of course, about a historian whose distinctive feature is criticism, one can say that the coldness of the grave blows from him. What does a historian strive for when critically examining any historical material to be studied? Strives to achieve the most correct and correct ideas about a given past in order to eliminate everything that is wrong and incorrect in ideas about it. And this is the gravedigger? Yes, of course, he is a gravedigger in the sense that he digs a grave for everything that should become the property of the grave in the sense of elimination and removal; but is he a gravedigger in relation to actual historical life, which he strives to present as correctly and truly as possible? Obviously, not a gravedigger, but on the contrary a restorer, a resurrector. Regarding my criticism, I deliberately justified myself in the speech that preceded my doctoral disputation. Referring those who want to know my justifications 11 to this speech, I will add a little here. Some people imagine that in our Russian church history there is no need for criticism at all and that with my criticism I am nothing more than an upstart who wants to gain cheap laurels for himself at its expense. In fact, in our Russian church history, criticism is just as necessary as in any other history. If it were not for the so-called “independent circumstances”, which are especially strong in our field of church writing, then we would undoubtedly have already had several experiences of critically processed Russian church history, for already the first experience of this history was written by Metropolitan. Plato with some criticism. There is no doubt that our most recent historian, Rev. Macarius, under other circumstances, would have written his History with a different criticism than what we find in him. In one place in the History he insistently exclaims twice: “Critics, more criticism—that’s what we need to wish for in the history of our literature!” 12 But read his History carefully, and you will see from the brief remarks he sometimes makes that he would like criticism not only for the history of church literature, but for all church history in general 13 . When the anonymous author says that I carry skepticism and a doctor-disdainful attitude towards my native past to the positive denial of the “living spirit” in all this past of Russian life: then he is speaking meaningless nonsense, and his intention is to slander me. A living spirit or living spirit is the internal essence of something, as opposed to an external dead form. Let's take an example from a sphere of life, but apparently close to the anonymous person and therefore most understandable to him. You can be a monk in outward form and at the same time have no living monastic spirit at all and remain a perfect layman in spirit. So, I repeat, a living spirit or a living spirit of something means the inner essence, the inner being of something. But what does it mean that I reject the inner essence of Russian church history? It won't mean anything but nonsense. Obviously, the anonymous person wanted to say something else, namely, that I do not find anything good or bright in our past, that I see nothing but bad or dark in it. But this would be the slander against me that he intended. I see in our past only good or bright, but also bad or dark - this is absolutely true. But the church historians who preceded me, Rev. Filaret and Macarius, do they really see only one good or bright thing in our past, and not, like me, the good and the bright together with the bad or dark? It is true that there is a significant difference between them and me: but the difference is not that they see one good thing in our past, and I see one bad thing. As they see, so I see the main reason for our bad things is our lack of enlightenment. But while they, following Karamzin, accept that enlightenment was introduced to us and took root among us, and then disappeared due to a random reason, I find it impossible to present the matter in this way and argue that the attempt of St. Vladimir’s introduction of enlightenment to us ended in failure and that we were left without (real) enlightenment from the very beginning of our Christianity (I talk about this at length in the book - I, 580 sqq, as well as in the speech before the debate, which I pointed out above. “However, who is familiar with his “History of Russian. Church,” says the anonymous person, he knows that this is a historian from whom,” etc., that is, he wants to say that everyone has the same extremely bad opinion about my History of the Russian Church. Finding self-defense permissible, I will answer him that he is shamelessly lying and wants to mislead the readers of The Wanderer. There are a considerable number of dark people who really have the same opinion as the anonymous person, a very bad one, about my History; There are also non-obscure people who are very unfavorable to my History for reasons that are either not entirely scientific or completely unscientific; but then, as for the majority of non-dark people, then, I think, I am not boasting if I say that it is decisively in my favor. In any case, I can give evidence for myself, the authority of which, perhaps, will be challenged by an anonymous person with others like him, but to whom non-obscure people will in no way be denied this authority. I submitted my History to the Academy of Sciences for the Uvarov Prize. The Academy entrusted the analysis of my History to a critic who, in its opinion, was quite competent and, having received from the critic an extremely favorable (I have every right to say - brilliant) review of the book, she fully agreed with him, which is why it awarded me the full Uvarov Prize (see Report on the twenty-fourth award of Count Uvarov). It remains for me to answer the anonymous question: what science do I serve, what god do I worship. In the first question: what science do I serve, the anonymous author obviously means: what is history in my opinion, or how do I understand history, when my History of the Russian Church is, according to his slander, something so terrible. My answer to him. History comes in three kinds: stupid, taking everything that past time has left us with the name of historical material at face value and therefore telling old wives' tales; a liar who does not deceive herself, but deceives others, who, for various practical reasons, represents white as black and black as white, blasphemes what is worthy of praise and praises what is worthy of blame, etc., and the real one, who strives to recognize the past as accurately and as thoroughly as possible and then tries to reproduce it just as correctly and thoroughly. While allowing those who want and those who produce to be supporters of stupid or lying history, I, for my part, am an ardent admirer of real history. The second question of the anonymous author: what god do I worship, obviously means: what do I respect and do I respect anything if in our past, as he slanderes me, I do not find anything worthy of respect. If I answer him that I am one of the people who most respect everything that deserves respect, he will tell me that it is okay to boast. I will answer him, so to speak, “by contradiction.” Everyone admits (and many blame me for the fact that) I speak with extraordinary passion against what deserves condemnation. A person who speaks passionately against something that deserves condemnation does not give him the right to assume that he treats with special respect something that deserves respect? Otherwise, where would his passion (in no way explained by practical motives) come from? “Only those who strongly revere the good strongly condemn the bad,” although perhaps none of the ancients said this, then in any case this is the law of human nature. Having answered the anonymous question: what science do I serve and what god do I worship, I will take the trouble to tell him: what science is a servant and what gods is he a fan of in his libel against me. He is the servant of science, which teaches us to despise real science; he is a worshiper of the jelly gods of lies, slander, innuendo and defamation. I will end my answer to the anonymous author’s libel with a sincere wish that he refuse to serve the said bad science, and that he spit on the said vile gods. When giving an answer to a libel, it can be extremely difficult to refrain from doing something that you yourself would condemn as an outside spectator. If it is found that I did not completely refrain from doing something about this, then I sincerely apologize to the readers. Being a straightforward person, I like to call people and things by their proper names. There can be no dispute that Mr. I.’s article is a libel against me; therefore, there can be no dispute about the fact that he himself is the author of the libel or the lampooner. That’s what I wanted to call him in my answer to him below. But fearing that some readers will find this very harsh, I replace the name lampoon with the name anonymous (ανωνυμος), and I console myself with the fact that the word anonymous means not only homo nomine carens, a nameless person or unknown by name, but also an inglorious person (ruhmlos). Some assure me that the writer who harbors personal enmity towards me was helped to compose the libel by writers who harbor enmity towards my beliefs. I don't know if this is true; If true, then for a whole group of writers our lampoon is a very bad literary work. As you know, on the cover of the magazine “The Wanderer” there is an image of a Christian wanderer, to whom an angel shows the way to heavenly Jerusalem. It is true that the wanderer of the “Wanderer” does not seem to be an Orthodox Russian, but a Catholic Pole, or at least a Russian Uniate (he knelt in a Catholic manner on one knee, and does not stand on both knees in an Orthodox manner, and his pilgrim’s clothes with accessories are very similar to those Peregrin or traveler’s clothes in which, according to the description of the famous Barsky, Polish Catholic and Russian Uniate pilgrims go to Rome, and even the angel showing the way to the wanderer, not to mention his not quite Orthodox, too wide-sleeved, tunic, has a Catholic epitrachelion hung around his neck, with which stole the Catholics actually depict angels): but it is not entirely convenient for a Catholic or a Uniate to go to heavenly Jerusalem with a roller on his shoulders, which, by the way, is loaded with libels: having with him similar ones, a kind underground, works, the wanderer is in danger of remaining behind the gates of heaven... Mr. Ponomarev has no personal accounts with me that would, if not excuse, then make his action understandable; We don’t know each other at all and had no relationship with each other at all, neither good nor bad. In this case, does the anonymous author know what, by the way, we would have to believe about our civil history? One would have to believe, among other things, that Batu, the famous Batu, Mongol Khan, enslaver of Russia, was from the Yaroslavl province, from the village of Cheremozhskaya (sic, see Rev. Philaret Review of Literature § [133]. I didn’t think to point out in the book a very simple, but at the same time absolutely decisive, proof that the river was not created by the Rev. Sergius, and existed before the founding of the monastery. The river is called Konchura: this name is undoubtedly not a Russian, but a Finnish name; therefore... (what necessarily follows from this is discussed below). Pestushsky, Pestushensky, maybe a typo instead: Peskushsky. “Pesnushensky”, as the monastery is sometimes called (see, for example, the letter of Patriarch Joachim in the XII volume of Additions to the Act. Ist., No. 58, p. 346, for the river is called Pesnosha and Pesnusha; but, on the other hand, on the map of the Moscow province we have (we don’t know when it was written, but a very recent edition) it says: “Nikola on Pestushi”, as well as in one official document of the last century we came across the name: Pestushkaya Monastery. The Pesnosha Monastery stands at the confluence of the Pesnosha River and the Yakhroma River. And regarding the name Yakhroma, Karamzin told an “anecdote” that his wife told. book Yuri Vladimirovich Dolgoruky stepped on the bank of the river near Dmitrov, said: and lame, and with these words she gave her her name - East. II, approx. 317. This anecdote about the name of Yakhroma gave Kalaidovich the idea (inspired) to compose an anecdote about the name of the monastery. Not only Met. Plato in the History of the Russian Church, II, 42 fin.) and Karamzin (in History, see Index) call the monastery Pesnoshsky, Nikolaevsky on Pesnosha, but also Metropolitan. Philaret calls it Pesnosha Pesnoshsky and Pesnoshsky Monastery (see his letters to the governors of the Lavra Athanasius and Anthony, the first in the Addendum to the works of the holy fathers of 1886, books III and IV, the second in a special edition). For the edification of the anonymous person who reproaches me for my skepticism towards non-ancient traditions, let me point out to him one example of a tradition currently in progress. In the sacristy of the Trinity Lavra there are kept a gospel and a service book that belonged to the disciple of St. Sergius and his successor as abbess at the monastery, Rev. Nikon. Until very recently, the word “belonged” was understood by everyone in such a way that books dating back to the time of St. Nikon, were used by him or were not only used by him, but also constituted his private property, but no one said that they were written by him or constituted his own manuscript (the latter does not yet speak about them and directly recognizes both of them as letters from an unknown or unknown archimandrite. Leonid, who published a description of the manuscripts stored in the Lavra sacristy no later than in 1880 - Readings of the General. History and Ancient 1880, book IV, Nos. 6 and 8. But one of the newest biographers of St. Sergius, without indicating the basis at all, and on what basis, That is, how it is necessary to think without having any reason, but only by diligently creating the autographs of the reverend. Nikon, claims that both books were written by the monk himself. The biographer will be repeated by others, and this is how the tradition will appear that the books constitute the reverend’s own handwriting. Nikon... (For the future historian who is skeptical about the legend, there will, of course, be an accuser like my anonymous one)... In order to avoid accusations and unfoundedness, I provide a short biography in a note. “It is fitting to know who Archimandrite Mityai is and where he comes from: this is Archimandrite Mityai, the son of the Teshilovsky priest Ivan, also on the Oka River, and then Mityai was one of the Kolomna priests, but in age (height) he is great and wide, tall and straight (strong, muscular), shoulders (having) great and thick, brada flat and long, and with a red face (handsome), birth and dignity (outward representativeness and outward beauty) above all people; his speech is light and clear and loud, his voice is very red, wears out words and his speech is very sweet, he is good at reading and writing. Having a great flow for books, and interpreting the power of books, and reading sweetly and wisely, and speaking with books wisely, and no one has found such. And he sings deliberately, and in deeds and in courts and in reasoning he is graceful and wise, and has a pure and unswerving word and speech and a great memory; and with ancient stories and books and parables of spiritual and everyday life, no one was able to speak like this, and for this reason, by desire and love, he chose to become Grand Duke Dmitry Ivanovich to the fatherland (sic, i.e., to spiritual fathers) and to printers. And the stench of Mityai was the spiritual father of the Grand Duke Dmitry Ivanovich and the printer, the south (that is, the seal - here, obviously, is a pass) was on him. And boyars and nobles came to him in spirit; and Mityai became in honor and glory from the great prince and from everyone, and like a certain king he was magnified, and had many servants and youths. And he remained in such rank and dispensation for many years, having greater glory and honor than anyone else... and everyone honored him like a certain king. And what else can I say, no one else was in such honor and glory as he, who was also the father (spiritual) of the great prince and who was in power, every (every time?) he wanted, and for many years he was in such a life and dispensation, loving him with all... The great prince loved him dearly, and so did his boyars...; Grand Duke Dmitry Ivanovich loved Mityai dearly and honored him like a father, more than anyone else.”... Nikon. years. IV, 68. Regarding the anonymous reproaches to me for my unsatisfactory language, another biographer, Rev., rises in my imagination. Sergius, who writes in very good language (although he sometimes allows himself such liberties against him, such as, for example, using the expression: “book description” in the sense of copying books). But I absolutely cannot force my rough nature to the tenderness that I find in him. Rev. He compares Sergius to a flower (why not to a scarlet flower?); when in the story about one miracle, Rev. Sergius he has to talk about a pig, he doesn’t call it a pig, but a pig; he calls the blessed fire or fire the blessed fire. At the same time, I console myself regarding the shortcomings of my language by the fact that he, who writes in a very good language, has a biographer, Rev. Sergius there are such flaws against the language that they lead the reader into sin. Talking about the behavior of Rev. Sergius, as the abbot of the monastery, the biographer, probably out of a desire to give the story greater clarity, uses the word: happened: “He would order, it happened, to dress a stranger... And when I saw it, it happened that a monk... It happened, in the late evening... A meek and obedient monk would immediately confess.” These: “it happened, it happened” give such vulgarity to the biographer’s speech that it is impossible to resist laughing, despite all its reprehensibility in this case. It is published in the appendix to the second half of volume I of my History of the Russian Church. When they talk about my criticism, then first of all and most of all they reproach me for the fact that I doubt the reliability of the story about the journey to Rus' of St. ap. Andrey. I have already said before that I did not quite directly express doubts about the authenticity of the story even before Metropolitan. Plato and that very direct doubt in her Rev. Filaret remained hidden only due to circumstances beyond his control. Previously, I could not confirm my words with reference to documentary evidence, but now I can. In the 33rd part of the Addendum to the works of the holy fathers, letters from Archbishop Philaret to A.V. Gorsky are printed. In a note to one letter, an extract was made from the censorship paper about the approval of the History of Philaret for publication, and in this extract it is said that the censor approved the History for publication with the condition “if the beginning of § 1, which rejects the tradition of the preaching of the Apostle Andrew on the mountains of Kyiv, is changed,” - page 641. Let those who are indignant at me for my doubt about the authenticity of the story of the journey to Rus' ap. Andrei will transfer their indignation, if not to Metropolitan. Plato, then - to which they are committed already by documentary evidence - on Rev. Philareta! You might be interested in: