I. Детство и Нижегородское духовное училище

I begin with the first days of my life, trying, however, to be brief regarding its first period, before entering the academy, in order to devote more space and time to the second period - studying at the academy and the third period - my academic service, which is the main goal of my “Memoirs”. I was born in 1836, November 19, in Nizhny Novgorod, in the parish of St. Sergius, where my father was a deacon of this church (Sergievskaya, as it was officially called) from 1834. And a wonderful coincidence: I began my life under the protection of St. Sergius and entered into real, as they say, life, that is, he began service, also in the monastery of St. Sergius, in the Moscow Theological Academy, located, as you know, in the fence of the Trinity-Sergius Lavra. The following case can also be included here: my father had a deacon he knew who had a model of the Trinity-Sergius Lavra, which could be disassembled and folded in the form of separate cubes. As a little boy, I saw this model more than once, which this deacon brought to our house and tried to draw my special attention to it, probably as a toy that would be interesting for a little boy. Did I think then that this was, as it were, an omen of my future fate? Many years later, during my service at the Moscow Academy, quite unexpectedly, I met the mentioned deacon among the brethren of the Trinity-Sergius Lavra, already in the rank of hieromonk. We marveled then at the coincidence of the present with the long past. I remember myself in a small house that belonged to my father, not far from the church, consisting of only two rooms, including a kitchen, with a rather large orchard, mostly cherry trees, steeply descending into a ravine - a location not devoid of beauty. And in this tiny house, standing on church land 7 , of course, wooden, already quite dilapidated, they managed to accommodate four owners, and in the end even five people 8 , and sometimes even a servant (we didn’t always have one), and in addition, as far as I remember, always two or three people from seminarians, for the most part our close relatives (three of my father’s brothers 9 , however, not at the same time; from strangers I remember only one). My father (Lev Gerasimovich Katansky) 10 was far from a rich man, forced, due to lack of funds, to do a lot of personal work around the house, especially on its repairs, even sometimes major ones, 11 but he was rich in something else - a strong, unshakable faith in God and deep religiosity. He had a very meek, gentle character and a strict life, he struggled intensely with his shortcomings and sinful inclinations, from time to time and for a long time indulging in purely ascetic deeds (fasting, prayer, etc.), which we all marveled at. At the same time, he was also an unusually zealous preacher, who did not miss a single holiday without preaching his own composition, which at that time was far from a common occurrence - even among the city priests and archpriests of Nizhny Novgorod, not to mention the deacons, which at that time, as mentioned above, was my father - and which made him known to the whole city and the local diocesan authorities, especially the Reverend Jacob and Jeremiah. In view of the fact that it was not always convenient or even possible for my father to present his sermons to the local censor (to whom I usually carried them), when, for example, there were several holidays in a row, he often delivered uncensored sermons. For this, he was once even subjected (probably due to someone’s denunciation) to punishment, which was quite light indeed (it seems, as far as I remember, a fine of three to five rubles). This was under the Reverend. Jeremiah, who favored his father for his zealous preaching and therefore commuted the punishment, with some resolution characteristic of this case (I don’t remember which one). Ordained to the rank of deacon (1834) Rev. Ambrose (Morev) 12 and having served for 18 years (1834–1853) in this rank under bishops John (Dobrozrakov), Jacob (Vecherkov) and Jeremiah (Soloviev), my father was ordained by these latter to the priesthood under the following remarkable circumstances. By the 50s, the modest deacon had accumulated a mass of sermons not only on Sundays and holidays, but also teachings of a different kind - catechetical and about Christian virtues and vices. My parent very willingly shared his preaching works with rural priests, who often came to him, as a famous preacher, in difficult moments of life, when it was necessary to present sermons to the diocesan authorities, but there were none. At the call of the Eminences Jacob and Jeremiah addressed to the Nizhny Novgorod clergy to submit collections of sermons for consideration, he several times presented these Eminences with his voluminous notebooks of sermons and teachings. The bishops approved and showed visible signs of attention, and the deacon-preacher, known throughout the city and even far beyond its borders, still remained a deacon. Meanwhile, his family, my mother and her father, my grandfather, in view of our large family and the meager income that fell on the deacon’s share from our poor parish, insisted that he submit a petition to appoint him to the place of priest in Nizhny. But my father never wanted to do this, considering such a request incompatible with his views on receiving the grace of the priesthood, which is not begged for, but chooses a worthy body for itself. “Don’t you already think that the bishop himself will call you and ask if you would like to be a priest; This is your place,” his family ironically remarked to him. “Why shouldn’t it be so, if it is the will of God. I believe that this will happen. Yes, he will call and offer. You'll see." “Wait. Here’s another prophet that has been found,” his family told him. And so, one day in April in 1853, exactly what my father predicted happened: Rev. Jeremiah sends his cell attendant to him with an invitation to him and, when he appears, offers him the position of second priest at the St. George Church in Nizhny, to help the well-deserved, but weakened elder archpriest (I. A. Gratsianov). In the rank of priest, and then archpriest and for a long time confessor of the city clergy, L.G. served for another 32 years, in 1884 celebrating the 50th anniversary of his service, in 1887 he entered the staff due to illness and died in 1889. At the end of his life, surrounded by general respect, he also had a special consolation - to count from his closest relatives, truly his pupils, who grew up under his influence and guidance, five people with an academic education and academic degrees and titles: two ordinary professors of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy and doctors of theology (son of A. L. K-go, brother of F. G. E-go), two masters (A. I. Sadov 13 and F.P. Eleonsky - a teacher at the Nizhny Novgorod Theological Seminary - native nephews) and one candidate of theology (F.I. Sadov, a teacher at the Kharkov Seminary - also a native nephew 14). His daughters were all settled and married to the best students of the local seminary, who were priests in Nizhny Novgorod. My mother, a woman of a very kind heart and religiously minded, but of a different character than my father, very gifted, but rather lively and harsh in her manner, died before him, two years before his death. I spent all my childhood, adolescence and youth in the city of Nizhny. A city dweller, I knew little of the village. I became aware of it only when I visited, from a very young age, my grandfather, my mother’s father, a priest in one large and rich village of Purekha, 70 versts from Nizhny, up the Volga. In this village, which was once the patrimony of Prince Pozharsky, there is an ancient church (with relics from the famous prince), on two floors, of which the lower one is very reminiscent of ancient monastery churches (obviously, it was once a monastery), with two high bell towers and many bells (300, 200, etc. poods) 15. This grandfather of mine, E. A. Bardov, one of the three priests of this village, was a student of the old, pre-reform (1809) school, without completing the full course of the seminary, he left it a year before the end of the course (1811–1812), at the suggestion of the then Right Reverend 16 to take the place of a priest. My grandfather loved to talk about the old school, with its headlight, infima, poetry, etc., and about the Eminences of his time, especially about the Most Reverend. Moses (Bliznetsov-Platonov) 17, this excellent copy, close to the original, from the famous Plato, Metropolitan of Moscow (like him, of majestic, beautiful appearance), an excellent orator and eloquent preacher. This grandfather of mine loved to pepper his speech with Latin proverbs and sayings and write poetry (in Russian). He was positively tireless as a poet, and even wrote all his letters (for example, to me, during my student years and service at the Moscow and St. Petersburg academies) only in verse. Having passed on to me (through my mother) many features of his appearance, he, however, did not pass on his poetic gift; I absolutely did not have the ability to write poetry, which was discovered in the lower class of the seminary (the so-called “literature studies”). Died at the age of 86. My other grandfather, on my father’s side, was of a different kind. Having completed the full seminary course, and even, it seems, well, he (Gerasim Yakovlevich Vladimirsky) was, however, only a deacon in the rather poor and remote from Nizhny (more than 200 versts) village of Uspenskoye, on Vetluga, in this rank he lived there all his life and also died at a ripe old age, over 80 years old. Among his infrequent visits to our house (I had never been to his place in the village), he struck me with a very meek expression on his face and extremely thoughtful eyes, looking somewhere into the distance, and even with his conversations with my father on religious topics. I especially vividly remember their conversation about the reasons for the incarnation of the Son of God. Grandfather did not understand why it was necessary, why our salvation could not have been achieved in any other way. The father tried to find out why the incarnation of the Son of God Himself was necessary. But the grandfather kept repeating: “I don’t understand, I can’t understand.” I was very young then and, of course, could not enter into the essence of the dispute and the arguments of both sides. I grew and developed under such influences. But my father had the most influence on me. My father had a huge influence on me, on my character, inclinations and the structure of my entire life - both with his personality, the examples of his life, and the system of education he adopted. And his system, with which my mother completely agreed, consisted of this. First of all, he systematically removed me from all kinds of comrades, even in these forms he did not allow me to serve at the church altar (which the local priest wanted), all out of fear of moral damage for me from peers who served during divine services and who, according to his observations, fell under various temptations from money that fell into their hands, in different ways. And he was most afraid of money in my hands, which is why before I went to the academy I, of course, did not have a single penny at my personal disposal, which I, of course, grumbled about at one time, but for which now, looking back on my entire past life, I cannot help but be deeply grateful to him. And I grew up alone, without comrades, spending time playing only with my sisters; I didn’t have any children’s toys, except homemade ones; in this regard, as in general, I was not pampered, and perhaps there was no money. I developed a concentrated character, and maybe heredity had an impact here - from my father. It is not surprising, therefore, that as soon as I grew up and learned to read and sufficiently understand what I read, I soon became addicted to reading first the lives of the saints. Demetrius of Rostov - from the church library, and then from secular books, historical (for example, the huge Roman history - op. Rollen, in the barbaric - even then it seemed to me so - translation by Tretyakovsky) and others - up to and including novels of that time - from a rather large library of one merchant, our parishioner 18. And that they removed me from the altar, and this had important consequences for the entire structure of my life. Constantly attending - both at my own request and at the insistence of my parents - divine services, but not joining the clergy, I always stood among the laity, and remained a layman for the rest of my life, although my parents and all my relatives really wanted me, while in office, to take holy orders, and the circumstances of my service more than once developed in such a way that it seemed impossible to evade the priesthood, but something always kept me from it, except for the existing situation with me unusually high view of the priesthood. If my parent is somewhat to blame here, then, I think, only to a very small extent. It seems to me that this is the work of God’s Providence, leading us along the path assigned to each of us. He intended me, apparently, for the undivided service of theological science. And here’s what’s remarkable: the grace of God, which I shied away from accepting in the sacrament of the priesthood, nevertheless forced me to work precisely for it in my most significant works (“On the Seven Church Sacraments” and “On the Grace of God,” this also includes the articles “On the Church”). In 1847, I entered the Nizhny Novgorod Theological School, in the second grade, being 10 years old (a little late, which is why I graduated from the seminary at the age of 21). Then theological schools consisted of four classes (I, II, III and IV). The first was, so to speak, preparatory; it taught only reading and writing and, perhaps, the very first rules of grammar 19 . The first and second grades had a one-year course, and the third and fourth grades had a two-year course. The first two classes constituted the parish school, while the third and fourth classes constituted the district school. I entered the second grade together with my peer and one-year old F. G. Eleonsky (he was only six months older than me), my uncle, my father’s brother, who in recent years was an honored ordinary professor and an honorary member of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy (died in 1906). He was brought by his father, and by my grandfather, from the village of Uspenskoye, where his father was also a deacon, like mine. I vividly remember how my father and grandfather brought F.G. Elm and me to the rector of the Nizhny Novgorod Theological School, Archpriest Lebedinsky, who was at the same time the cathedral archpriest, but it seems not yet senior 20. They took us to the large stone house of the cathedral clergy and placed us in one of the beautiful, high and richly furnished rooms of the archpriest's apartment. We were both very scared because of the unusual environment for us, and most importantly, because of the exam that awaited us when entering the school, but, it turns out, it was completely in vain, since there was no exam at all. Our parents were asked only the question of what we were taught and what we know, and then the conversation turned to what names to put us on the list under. To this my father stated that he would like to give me the surname “Nevsky” after the name of my angel, St. Alexander Nevsky. But here about. the rector remarked with liveliness, raising his voice: “Well, no, it’s enough to change surnames; a decree of the Holy Synod has just been issued prohibiting giving children arbitrary surnames. Let your son’s surname be Katansky, that is, your surname.” But then immediately Fr. the rector committed a violation of the synodal decree. When my grandfather, himself by the surname Vladimirsky, having three sons with different surnames (Katansky, Sadov and Eleonsky), declared in turn that he would like to give his fourth son, Fyodor Gerasimovich, the surname “Favorsky”, Fr. the rector became indignant, exclaiming: “What is this? what kind of diversity? I know that your third son is studying at the seminary (P. G. Eleonsky, father of F. P. El-go, the current teacher of the Nizhny Novgorod Theological Seminary, master of the St. Petersburg Academy - he was, it seems, then in literature, or in the philosophical class, as the lower and middle classes of the seminary were then called), so let your fourth son also be Eleonsky. Why not “Vladimirsky” after the name of his father, my grandfather? - O. the rector did not explain this 21, and, of course, the humble father deacons did not dare to object to him. In conclusion, and perhaps at the very beginning of the audience with Fr. rector (I don’t remember), they were given to him respectfully: by my parent - 1 ruble, and by my grandfather, as a poorer rural deacon, - 50 kopecks, which at that time was the general custom and did not bother anyone 22 . I entered the school, as stated above, in 1847 (of course, in the fall, in September), the year of the change in diocesan leadership. This year in the spring, our fellow countryman, Nizhny Novgorod resident, Bishop John (Dobrozrakov), 11th master of the second year of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy, who was also the first-born of our fellow countryman, Nizhny Novgorod resident Ivan Mikhailovich Skvortsov, later a professor at the Kyiv Theological Academy and University, first a master, and then a doctor of theology, the author of many major works and textbook on the canon, which we studied in seminary. Rev. John 23 was also a Doctor of Theology for his “Sacred Hermeneutics” (published in 1828), and we Nizhny Novgorod residents were proud of both of them. Rev. I never saw John 24, but I heard a lot about him from my father, our relatives and friends 25. Rev. John, judging by the portrait, has a very handsome face (purely Russian type), according to stories, very eloquent and witty, good-natured, cheerful character and very sociable, who loved to visit citizens, even merchants 26, enjoyed great love and respect in Nizhny. Unfortunately, he was tormented by his relatives, of whom there were many in his homeland and whom he patronized involuntarily, by virtue of the well-known proverb, and only this alone cast some shadow on his brilliant image, which had hitherto been preserved as such precisely in the memories of Nizhny Novgorod residents. His successor, Rev. Jacob (Vecherkov) is a candidate at the St. Petersburg Theological Academy following the Reverend. John III course 27, represented the complete opposite of his predecessor. Tall, dark-haired, without much gray hair, very thin, of an ascetic appearance, he gave the impression of an ancient hermit of the Greek East, and was very revered by the people of Nizhny Novgorod for his strict life. Under him I entered the theological school. He loved attending seminary and college. I was once in my second grade and came to our arithmetic lesson. He entered our class just at the moment when I was called to the board. I remember that he himself asked me to solve a simple problem of addition and subtraction together, and I solved it correctly, for which, after the bishop left, the teacher (V.V. V-ii) praised me, noting at the same time that he was very afraid whether I could cope with the work assigned to me. Rev. Jacob also loved to have the calligraphy works of our lower class students presented to him, which is why mine was presented among others, although they were not particularly elegant; some of my comrades wrote more beautifully than me. In addition to the fight against the schism, Rev. Jacob paid special attention to strengthening preaching among the local clergy and encouraged zealous preachers, including my father, who, it seems to him, was the first of the Eminences to present a collection of his teachings. The Rev. himself also preached. Jacob, and his sermons have been published, but I have not heard them spoken from the pulpit. At school, I immediately began to study well, to the great surprise of my father, who did not expect this at all, believing that his son was a complete idiot. He drew this conclusion from the rare, it must be admitted, cases of testing my knowledge of Russian grammar, which I constantly carried with me both at home and while walking in the garden, so that I completely wore it out, but did not study it. Strictly monitoring my behavior, my parents paid little attention to my educational activities, for some reason - probably due to lack of time, since they had a lot of troubles around the house and household chores. In the second grade we were taught: Russian grammar, catechism, arithmetic, penmanship in Russian, Latin and Greek, and probably church singing. I don’t remember under what number on the list I moved from class II to class III, but, in any case, I stood very high, one of the first. In the third grade the following were taught: Latin and Greek, Russian and Slavic grammar, catechism, arithmetic, church regulations and musical singing. In the third grade we had two parallel departments, and here we were separated from F.G. Elm; he got into one, I got into another. I was happier than F.G. In our department, we had a wonderful, one might say ideal, teacher of catechism, Latin and arithmetic - S. P. Moderatov 28 . He awakened in us a special love for the Latin language, which he knew perfectly, and laid in us a solid foundation of knowledge of this language. His relationship with his students differed in many ways from the usual, rather rude, methods at that time. He treated us, one might say, in a fatherly manner, rarely resorting to the then usual rods, encouraging the best students in every possible way, inviting them to him, for example, on the occasion of his name day, and distributing to them small bundles of gifts (gingerbread, etc.) prepared in advance, and this was from the then extremely meager teacher's salary 29: We loved and respected him very much. In third grade, I was, it seems, undoubtedly already first on the list. There was, however, a custom then, the so-called certo de loco, that is, students applying for a higher place, with a transfer from one place to another, higher one. I don’t remember whether there were cases of overthrowing me from the place I occupied; Probably, the matter could not have happened without it. In grade IV, Latin and Greek, catechism, sacred history, geography and arithmetic were taught. In the fourth grade there were no parallel departments; students from both departments transferred to it, which is why we again connected with F.G. Elm, who also studied excellently, occupying one of the first places on the list. In the fourth grade, I remember, I was the first to sit on the first right desk, closest to the teacher, that is, the first student, but in the same class (it seems, at the end of the two-year course in it) I also lost first place: I had a strong competitor in the person of I. F. Spassky, who sat first on the left desk, who transferred from another department of the third grade. In the fourth grade we had two or even three teachers (I don’t remember well): Greek - priest I.P.F-v (who is also an inspector), who was inferior in knowledge of his subject to our favorite S.P.M-v; also a teacher of the Russian language, arithmetic and geography (Mr. R-v) and who came with us, or a little later, the aforementioned S.P. M-v, teacher of the Latin language, catechism and sacred history. However, I cannot vouch for the accuracy of the distribution of subjects between them, or even for the number of teachers: perhaps there were only two; didn't Mr. R-va replace S.P.M-v? Our main subjects were ancient languages ​​- Greek and especially Latin. S.P. Moderatov was still zealously involved in teaching us the Latin language, and we still deeply respected and loved him 30. Before the end of the fourth grade, he even gave the best students overtime classes, during the holidays (Christmas, I remember), to translate works of Latin writers from Latin into Russian: for example, he gave me the opportunity to translate the work De natura deorum. In these translations and in general in all written work, I was always stronger than in oral answers, and my competitor was the opposite, which the teacher once noticed in the presence of the entire class 31 . Be that as it may, my competitor, I.F. S-sky, by the end of the fourth grade course, took first place from me, and I graduated from college as the second student. In 1850–1852, when I was in the fourth grade of the school, the Bishop of Nizhny Novgorod was the Most Reverend. Jeremiah (Soloviev, 1850–1857), successor of the Most Rev. Jacob and his monastic tonsure. Rev. Jeremiah 32 is quite a remarkable person. He was not a church speaker, although he had a good gift of speech and highly valued and encouraged zealous preachers; Nor was he a remarkable scholar-theologian. But he was a man of high spiritual life and unyielding character, imbued with the idea of ​​the greatness of episcopal power. Unusually, inimitably majestic when performing divine services, loving its splendid solemnity and the general splendor of the situation both in the church and at home, he was, however, an ascetic at heart, which was revealed with particular clarity when he retired (1857). However, about Rev. Jeremiah will have much more to say later, when reviewing the seminary period (1852–1858) of my life, which almost completely coincides with the time of his stay at the Nizhny Novgorod episcopal see. Under him, we, students of the school, were often sent to the cathedral and the Church of the Cross to attend the bishop's service. These services made an unusually strong impression, which was most facilitated by the personality of the Right Reverend himself, his majestic posture, tall stature, very handsome face, penetrating gaze and extremely attractive voice, a high, rather strong, but gentle tenor. What touched and touched me most was when, going out to the pulpit with a dikiri and trikiri in his hands, he uttered with an inimitable expression, in some soulful voice, the famous words: “Look from heaven, O God, and see...”. In general, I have never seen such a bishop’s service, incomparable in feeling and beauty. Rev. Jeremiah vigilantly monitored the behavior of the clergy, not only when they performed their duties in the church, but also over their home life. For this purpose, he often visited the homes of clergy, and nothing escaped his penetrating gaze. And woe was the one whose house he found in disarray. It happened once with us, in our deacon’s apartment, in the church house 33, and although I found everything in order, I still made one remark about the pictures embroidered by my sister, with multi-colored wool, and hanging on the walls, in frames, depicting some saint and birds (a rooster and a parrot). The first work earned his approval, the second - censure. And such visits took place not only during his services in parish churches, but were often sudden, although the dean fathers tried, if possible, to warn those for whom the visit of the Right Reverend was being prepared. In the parish churches of Rev. Jeremiah ministered often. I remember he served once in our St. Sergius Church, and even preached a sermon himself, which happened infrequently. Is this why our church was honored with his preaching because it had a deacon-preacher known to him? Rev. Jeremiah often visited the seminary and school. He also visited our fourth grade and, by the way, showed me visible favor, no doubt because he knew my father. By the end of this class, he wished to ordain several of the best students (including me, Spassky, F. G. Eleonsky, V. Ya. Rozhansky, later a bachelor of the Kazan Academy) to the surplice, which happened on Palm Sunday, in the Cross Church of the bishop's house. This had never happened before - usually they were initiated into the surplice already in the seminary, in the “philosophical” or even “theological” classes (as the middle and upper classes of the seminary were then called). This Right Reverend generally loved luxurious surroundings, probably coming from the idea of ​​the greatness of the episcopal rank, for in his soul, as has been said, he was an ascetic. He wore magnificent velvet robes. And on the great holidays of the Nativity of Christ and Easter - among the solemn gathering of the most distinguished persons from the local clergy, the commanders and teachers of all the religious educational institutions of the city, in his bishop's chambers - he loved to be greeted by students not only of the seminary, but also of the school - in different languages: Russian, Latin, Greek, etc. And I had to make these speeches more than once even at the school, and then at the seminary. I remember once, when I was in the fourth grade of school, I was scheduled to speak in Greek on May 1, the day of the Lord’s Angel, but he fell ill, and the speech, compiled, of course, by the teacher and by me, had already been memorized, was not delivered. Of the remarkable incidents of my studies in the fourth grade, the dispute between our Fr. rector, master of the academy, archpriest Lebedinsky with the teacher S.P., whom I mentioned many times. Mmm, - it seems, during the catechism exam, - a dispute about the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and the tree of life, about their natural or supernatural properties. What one of the disputants argued and what the other argued has been erased from memory. I only remember that Fr. the rector became very angry with the teacher who contradicted him, and to prove the validity of his view on the subject of the dispute he referred to academic lectures, and S.P., remaining relatively calm, did not yield to him, continuing to develop his thought. This argument made a strong impression on us, and we were surprised how the seminarian decided to argue with the academician, and even the boss. Our respect for our beloved and revered teacher, of course, did not diminish from this dispute. From the best students of the fourth grade who lived in apartments, the so-called “seniors” were appointed at that time, who were, as it were, assistant inspectors in supervising the same students of the same class, but the worst, as well as over the apartment students of other junior classes. They were appointed for supervision, to visit apartments during evening classes of students and to monitor their careful attendance at divine services and orderly, in groups, their standing in the church. There were quite a few such “seniors”, about five or six people; The areas of their activity were determined depending on the area where their own apartments were located; usually several parishes were united under one seniority; I remember that I had four parishes, including mine (Sergievsky). At certain times, these apartment supervisors submitted reports to the inspector about whether everything was going well in their areas. This kind of duty greatly raised our spirits, flattered our little pride, and we visited student apartments and went to churches in our districts, not without importance. But if being an apartment “senior” was not without its pleasantness, then being a so-called “notator” and, especially, a classroom attendant certainly did not bring any pleasure. Somewhat flattering to vanity, both were associated with responsibility and were sometimes accompanied by unpleasant consequences. There were “notators” in all classes of the school. They were also appointed from among the best students and were obliged, before the teacher arrived, to ask and listen to the students assigned to them (usually five or six), their comrades, answers to a given lesson and then mark the degree of their knowledge on special sheets with conventional signs: sc., err., nt., ns. (that is: knows, with errors, not everything, doesn’t know). The notator, in turn, was subjected to the same from another of his comrades. It is clear how difficult it was for the notator to be fair in assessing the knowledge of his comrades, not to succumb to feelings of friendship, pity, and sometimes to temptations in the form of small bribes with sweets, rolls, etc. Meanwhile, an incorrect mark in the “notate” threatened the notator with punishment: at the very least - standing on a pillar or on his knees, or even with rods, judging by the severity and temperament of the teacher. But the most unpleasant thing was being on duty in the classroom, that is, being responsible for order and silence in the classroom. Our school classes were located on the lower floor of the seminary building, and on the upper floor there were seminary classrooms with apartments for its rector and inspector. When there was noise in our classes, it could be heard throughout the entire building, and on this occasion the seminary authorities often came to see us. I remember once, in one of the classrooms, the door opened and the angry face of Fr. the rector of the seminary, the famous (at the Nizhny Novgorod seminary, 1842–1851) Archimandrite Apollonius (Matveevsky) 34, whom I only saw here for the first time, and then even later during services in the seminary church. Another time, already in the fourth grade, when I was on duty (and then I had to be on duty almost constantly), the seminary inspector, Fr. hieromonk, or abbot, Paisius - and, infuriated by the terrible noise in the class, demanded me as the duty officer, responsible for silence in the class, and dealt with me for all my naughty comrades, with his own hand; that was the end of the matter. Father Paisius, however, was a kind man, but only very hot-tempered, and later, when he was the rector of the seminary, he was very favorable towards me; I completed my seminary course under him and therefore I will have to talk about him more. For the transition from school to seminary, I don’t remember whether there were special exams with the participation of delegates from the seminary; There were, it seems, regular exams, only somewhat more strict than in other years. True, I vaguely remember one auditor from the Kazan Academy, who inspected the seminary and school, Archimandrite Anthony (of Radonezh), 35 and who was at our exam, but this was in 1850, therefore, when we were in the third grade. At the end of the school course, the best students were given books as a reward, purchased, however, at our expense and at our choice. On the advice of my father, I bought for myself a volume of the works of St. Tikhon of Voronezh. This original method of awarding is explained, of course, by the then extreme scarcity of funds at the disposal of the school authorities. This also explains the fact that we ourselves had to do the work of the school office, which probably did not exist at all: upon graduation from the school, we were ordered to rewrite our documents with our own hands for submission to the seminary board. When this was done, we were released in peace. This was July 15, 1852. Vacations in my time always began from this time and ended on September 1. It was difficult in May, June and until mid-July to sit in stuffy classrooms, and even to work with your head, when you were drawn to the air, to the garden, to the field, to games. In conclusion, a few words about the premises of the school - the seminary building, the seminary courtyard, our children's games there and, finally, about the general impression taken from studying at the school. While I was studying at the school, the rector of the seminary was the aforementioned Archimandrite Apollonius, an excellent owner, who brought the seminary building (by the way, which still houses it) into brilliant condition: both the classrooms and the corridors were clean and in complete order. Only the air in the entire seminary building was very bad, due to the primitive design of certain places of solitude. However, while the air in it seemed to be better than when I studied there as a seminary student, that is, after the rector Apollonius. The extensive seminary courtyard was also kept in order. We frolicked on it and had fun with games: pebbles, chizha 36 and lapta. During the days of recreation - requested by the seminary students from their superiors (and certainly with the singing of the words: rogamus, rogamus, reverentissime pater Rector, recreationem) and extended to us, the school students - sometimes they forced us to carry firewood from the seminary yard to the barns. For the most part, we either went home to rest, or went to the field, near the Pechersky Monastery, and our superiors and teachers also appeared there, I remember, even with some treats for us (gingerbread, nuts, etc.). The morals and behavior of the students, both state-funded and self-funded, who lived in apartments, although they were rough, were far from similar to those depicted in the well-known essays of Pomyalovsky’s bursa, so upon arriving at the St. Petersburg Academy and after reading these essays, I did not want to believe that something similar could happen, especially in the capital’s theological school. Unfortunately, from conversations with new comrades from St. Petersburg, I had to be convinced that Pomyalovsky’s depiction of the bursa was close to the truth, and my surprise knew no end. The attitude of teachers towards students in our school was, at that time, very humane. Although we were flogged quite a bit, we did not experience any cruel, widespread floggings at all. And here is the proof: I have never been punished with rods. I was close to that only once, namely in second grade. The teacher, regarding my not entirely solid knowledge of the lesson from Russian grammar, remarked: “It seems that I have never whipped you, but I should have at least once,” but he never carried out his intention. In general, I consider myself and my comrades happy that they studied at the Nizhny Novgorod Theological School. Which further reduced its already low value, so that when it was sold (on the occasion of our family moving to a church house), in 1853–4, only 500 rubles were received for it. banknotes. At that time there was still little use of silver, at least in the provinces; everything was incredibly cheap. With the birth, as far as I can remember, of my younger sister, our entire family consisted of six people: father, mother, me and three sisters, of whom the eldest, a year older than me, did not live with us, but from the day of birth until marriage she was raised by her grandfather, a village priest. This is how our family remained until the end of our parents’ lives. There were four brothers in total: my father, the elder brother, whose last name was Katansky, and the second, Ivan Ger. Sadov, the third - Peter Ger. Eleonsky, fourth - Fyodor Ger., also Eleonsky. The reader will see further why there is such a difference in surnames. All three brothers came, one might say, from under my father’s wing; almost all the time they studied at school and seminary they lived with him, were brought up under his influence, and at the end of his life he had the rare consolation of seeing the fruits of the education of his close relatives: there turned out to be a whole nest of his notorious broods, which will be seen from our further story. From the students of the Nizhny Novgorod Theological Seminary. He completed the full course in 1834, but was released with a 2nd class certificate, which he considered unfair and explained his deprivation of the 1st class by the intrigue of his comrade - the all-powerful, according to him, the favorite of the then rector of the seminary, Innocent, who, as can be seen from the history of the Nizhny Novgorod seminary, left an unkind memory of himself. Knowing the extraordinary truthfulness of my parent and his activities as a preacher (see below), I cannot doubt this for a minute. I vividly remember how my father once planned to raise the entire house, take out the old, rotten logs and replace them with new ones, and he accomplished this by hiring carpenters, but he himself worked harder than all of them; how then, following a denunciation from a neighbor, in the midst of work, the police came to us, with a police chief at their head, and how embarrassed my father was, who did not ask for permission for this work, probably because he did not hope to receive it, due to the dilapidation of the house (the matter, however, turned out well); further, how he dug a dugout and built a bathhouse in it himself, which the police sometimes forbade to heat during the summer (probably for fear of fires); how he was engaged in various crafts for household use, he even made an entire chest of drawers, although, I must admit, it was not distinguished by its elegance, but it was very strong and comfortable. 1807 – candidate (?) of theology at Alexander Nevsky Seminary, 1813 – prefect of Novgorod. seminary, 1816 – Archimandrite Novgor. Anthony Monastery, 1822 - rector of the Oryol family, 1823 - Bishop of Orenburg, 1828 - Volyn, 1832 - Nizhny Novgorod, 1835 - Penza, died in 1854. Chronological data in this case, as in others, I borrow from the work of Yu. V. Tolstoy, former comrade. Chief Prosecutor of the Holy Synod: “Lists of bishops, episcopal departments of the All-Russian hierarchy (1721–1871).” Why did the author call Rev. Ambrose "cand." Alexander Nevsky Seminary, unknown. There were no such academic degrees back then. From the editor. In the texts of the notes, the following abbreviations are subsequently adopted: candidate - cand., master - mag., associate professor - associate professor, doctor - doct., bachelor - bacc., extraordinary professor - extraord. prof., ordinary professor - rank. prof., emeritus professor - emeritus. prof., rector - rect., inspector - inspector, performing position (“correcting position” - in the vocabulary of that time) - i. d., prefect - prefect, teacher of the law - teacher of the law, teacher - teacher, seminary - seventh, academy - academician, cathedral - cathedral, priest - priest, archpriest - archpriest, hieromonk - hieromonk, archimandrite - archim., bishop - bishop, vicar - vicar, archbishop - archbishop, metropolitan - Metr., Eminence – Most Reverend, “died” is indicated by the icon “†”. Abbreviations are also used in the names of dioceses and departments. At that time, A.I. Sadov was still a master and extraord. Professor of St. Petersburg. Academy, but after a while he also received a doctorate in church history and the title of horde. professor, and then deserved. professor. Both Sadov brothers also lived for some time in our family. F.P. Eleonsky, although he did not live with us (he, like an orphan, lived in the bursa), but he was not deprived of care and supervision from our family. Then. Now there are already 1000 poods. Probably, Rev. Moses. This was the custom then, even in later times; in 1828 there were 8 such persons, in 1830 – 22 people, in 1832 – 18 people, in 1833 – 33 people. (see: Nizhny Novgorod Theological Seminary in 1818–1840, p. 98). 1792 - from the Trinity-Lavra family, 1795 - its prefect, 1796 - prefect. Slavic-Greek-Latin Academician, 1804 - its rector, 1808 - bishop. Penza, 1811 – Nizhny Novgorod, † in 1825 and buried in Nizhegorod. department cathedral Rollen's "Roman History" consisted of 9 huge volumes. His is “Ancient History” - 13 volumes. I don’t remember whether I read the last one, but I read the first one long and diligently, although with omissions of the full text of the speeches of various commanders, like Sulla, Pompey, etc., which bored me. – By the way, about our parishioners. We had one very remarkable man, the terror of our clergy, especially the lower ones, N.F. V-v, a rich man and in rank (it seems, over. Sov.), who had a large stone house just opposite the altar of our church. He was a former clerk who had been recruited as a soldier for stealing something (as he himself said), who ended up in the troops of the railway department, rose to ranks and even orders here, and made a good fortune for himself. He was very pious, attentive to our clergy and generous in paying for services and on other occasions (for example, on holidays he gave gifts to the priest and deacon), but he strictly followed the order of worship and often reprimanded, especially the clergy. In general, they were very afraid of him, but they respected and valued him as our most important and main parishioner. However, I don’t remember this well and I don’t know, although sometimes I was sent, as a good student, from the 4th grade to the 1st grade to replace the teacher there in his absence. At that time, his father-in-law, Archpriest Fialkovsky, was still alive, with whom our school rector, Fr. prot. Lebedinsky (Master of the Moscow Theological Academy, fourth year, 1820–1824, listed as No. 16 on the graduation list). He was called “rector” and not “supervisor”, as the heads of the schools – Pechersk and Arzamas – were already called then. Probably to avoid the mentioned diversity. O. prot. Lebedinsky, who enjoyed general respect and had weight even among the Most Reverend. Jeremiah, did not disdain, as they said, even very small offerings, good-naturedly saying at the same time: “Is it good for pots?” Graduated from the St. Petersburg course. acad. in 1817, 11th master on the list; 1824 – rector of St. Petersburg. Sem., 1826 – rect. St. Petersburg academician, 1830 – ep. Penza, 1835 – Nizhny Novgorod, 1847 – archbishop. Donskoy, 1867 - retired to the Kremenets Ascension Monastery, with a pension of 1,500 rubles. - as for some reason it was noted about him alone in the “Lists of Bishops, Bishops' Sees...” by Yu. V. Tolstoy - probably because it was an enhanced pension at that time. I only remember how now, on one truly beautiful day, it seems like early spring, the bell rang in all the churches, on the occasion, as I was told, of the departure of the Most Reverend. John on Don. By the way, his seminary friend, our rather close relative (my mother’s uncle and our grandmother’s brother), I. S. Belyaev, deacon of the village of Pavlova, told us a lot about him. The first-born of the seminary course in which Mikhail (Dobrozrakov) (Rev. John) was a member, who graduated from the seminary, seems to be the 5th or 6th student, I. S. B-v for some reason did not get into the academy, but was ordained a deacon of the rich village of Pavlov and lived here all his life. Our family considered him almost a genius, and indeed he impressed us all as an unusually intelligent man, with a very expressive face, and somewhat sarcastic in nature. When Rev. John became the bishop of Nizhny Novgorod, he summoned his former comrade and offered him a position as a priest, but I.S.B-v did not accept this offer and remained a rural deacon for the rest of his life. I didn’t accept it because (as I understood from my family’s conversations—I was very young at the time) because I didn’t want to be a favor to my former comrade. Our relative, N.I. Rozov (his nephew, Doctor of Medicine, former director of the medical department), told me about this rural deacon, already when I was serving at the St. Petersburg Academy. Pavlovo to visit his uncle and I find him, already an old man, in the summer, in a fur coat, reading a French novel in the original, that is, in French, which, of course, I was extremely surprised by.” That's what rural deacons were like in the old days! They said that in our parish he came to visit one merchant and brought with him his bishop’s singers to sing concerts during meals, even sometimes even in the evening. In Chistovich I.A. in his “History of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy. 1858–1888" (St. Petersburg, 1889) "with the right to a master's degree" is placed, however, at No. 20, among masters; 1819 – rect. Ekaterinosl. Sem., 1832 – ep. Saratov, 1847 – bishop. Nizhny Novgorod, † in 1850, May 20, in the rank of archbishop, in St. Petersburg, during his presence at the Holy Synod. He graduated from the seminary as the first student, but for some reason did not get into the academy (probably due to poor health). He was highly respected not only by his colleagues at the school, but also by the corporation of seminar mentors. Here are the salaries of teachers since 1836: in parish schools (I and II classes) - 250 rubles. allocated, in the district (III and IV classes) - 525 rubles, also allocated, i.e. in the first two - 6 rubles, and in the last - 17 rubles. for silver per month (See: Nizhny Novgorod spiritual family in 1818–1840, p. 156). The degree of our respect for him is shown by the following incident. Once F.G.E and I were walking home from class through a rather deserted place and were playing pranks along the way, pushing each other, etc., and did not notice that S.P. was walking behind us. Having called us, he reproachfully shook his head and said: “It’s a shame, but they are also good students.” This was enough for us to voluntarily come to him a few hours later, burst into tears and ask him for forgiveness, not out of fear, however, of punishment, which we did not expect, but simply because we were ashamed in front of the respected teacher for our street behavior. “If S wrote “problems” as well as K, and K answered oral questions as well as S, then it would be perfection,” said S.P. By the way, I note that the same phenomenon was observed throughout my life, depending on my shyness, lack of resourcefulness, and perhaps not a particularly strong memory. From Orlov's pupils. family, comrade and friend of the famous Innocent of Kherson, graduated from the St. Petersburg course. acad. (VII class) in 1827, but did not receive any academic degree. This is a well-known and undeniable fact. In the list of this course (see: I.A. Chistovich, “History of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy...”), Hierodeacon Jeremiah Solovyov was placed last (following three students who were awarded the right to receive a candidate’s degree in one year with approval for position and behavior), without any increase. In 1827 - lawyer. 2nd Cadet Corps, in 1829 - tank. St. Petersburg acad. in the class of theological sciences, in 1830 - inspector. Kyiv. academician, in 1835 – rector. Kyiv. Sem., in 1839 – rector. Kyiv. academician, in 1841 - vicar bishop. Chigirin, in 1843 - bishop. Caucasus, in 1849 - Poltava, in 1850 - Nizhny Novgorod, from 1857 to 1884 - retired, that is, for 27 years, † in 1884, December 6, 83 years. Where our family moved from our own small house and where we already had 4, even 5 (with a large kitchen) spacious rooms. Several school students, my peers, I remember three, also lived in this apartment. Of these, besides F.G. E-th, our close relative, there were two more strangers. Their parents begged my parents to take them into our care. O. Apollonius was a very remarkable person; in the history of the Nizhegorod Seminary, he constituted an entire era, so almost an entire volume “Nizhegorod. spirit. family 1840–1851.” A native of Ekaterinoslo. gub., cand. Kyiv. acad. (1829–1833), teacher and inspector. Pskov. family (1833–1842), rector of Nizhegorsk. family was for 9 years - from 1842 to 1851. After resignation from the rectorship, he was appointed rector of Moscow. Simonov Monastery, where he stayed for almost 10 years, until his death in 1861. In terms of firmness and inflexibility of character, he could compete with the Most Reverend. Jeremiah, and in terms of his extraordinary administrative abilities, energy and ability to bring the seminary to a brilliant state in all respects, was a completely rare and extraordinary person. Anthony (Radonezh), originally from Nizhny Novgorod, 8th magician. Moscow acad. (1834), first (1834) – inspection. Nizhegorsk family; then, dismissed from the inspectorate by administrative means, he remained as a simple teacher. In 1842 it was moved to Yarosl. Sem., 1834 – tank. Kazan. academician, 1846 – order. professor. During this period of time (1850) he was appointed from Kazan. acad. auditor in Nizhny. Rector Apollonius ignored him, did not even give him an apartment in the seminary - in a word, did not recognize him as an auditor and did not carry out his orders, which is why, despite all his merits, he was dismissed (1851). Archim. Anthony was then rector of Perm. family (1851–1854), Yarosl. (1854–1858); Ep. Orenburg. (1858–1862), member of the Moscow. Synod. cont. (1862–1866), in 1866 he was completely retired. Playing with pebbles is a game even for children, students in grades 1 and 2. It consisted of tossing and catching pebbles with the hand, from one to five, so that those caught one by one would all remain in the hand with which they were caught and would not fall out of it. The players usually sat near the walls of the building so that their superiors would not see them. Older adults also played “siskin”. “Chizh” is a small stick, pointed at both ends, which one person hits at the end with a large stick, the stick flies upward, and the other partner stands against it and, if possible, catches it. While playing this game with F.G. El-m, in the seminary yard, I remember, under the cover of the woodpiles of firewood that stood there, I was once exposed to great danger: a siskin hit me in the eye; I probably caught him. Luckily, I only got away with a big bruise. At home he explained the bruise as an accidental blow to the school door. You might be interested in: