Ways of

Russian Theology

Fr. George Florovsky

 

 

Content:

1. The Crisis of Russian Byzantinism.

Introduction. The Pagan Era. The Baptism of Rus'. Second "South Slavic" Influence Eremitical Renaissance Ivan III and the West. The Judaizers. Josephites, Transvolgan Elders and Maxim The Greek. Metropolitan Makarii and the Council of a Hundred Chapters.

2. Encounter With the West. Orthodoxy in West Russia.

Artemii and Kurbskii. The Ostrog Circle and Bible. Konstantin Ostrozhskii. The Union of Brest; "Brotherhoods"; the Kiev Monastery of the Caves. Uniatism. Metropolitan Peter Mogila of Kiev. The Orthodox Confession. The Kiev Academy. The "Pseudomorphosis" of Orthodox Thought.

3. The Contradictions of the Seventeenth Century.

Introduction. Correction of Books. Patriarch Nikon. The Schism. Kievan Learning in Muscovy. Conclusion.

4. The St. Petersburg Revoltuion.

The Character of the Petrine Reforms. The Ecclesiastical Schools of the Eighteenth Century. Protestant Scholasticism. Russian Freemasonry. The Reawakening of Russian Monasticism. The Russian Bible Society.

5. Struggle for Theology.

Introduction. Alexander I; Prince A.N. Golitsyn; The Coming of Pietism. The Revival of Russian Freemasonry. Reform of the Ecclesiastical Schools, 1805-1814. The Russian Bible Society. Translation of the Russian Bible. Return to Scholasticism. Metropolitan Filaret of Moscow. Theology in the Reformed Ecclesiastical Schools. The Moral-Rationalistic School. Church and State Under Nicholas I. Conclusion.

Notes to Chapter I. Notes to Chapter II. Notes to Chapter III. Notes to Chapter IV. Notes to Chapter V. About the Author.

 

Editor's Preface.

On August 11, 1979 Fr. Georges Vasil'evich Florovsky, one of the more influential of twentieth century theologians and historians of Christianity, died. With his death a part of our scholarly world also dies. The scholarly world finds itself in a rather unusual situation. Unlike other renowned writers who, upon their death, have already shared their best works with their contemporaries, only posthumously are Fr. Florovsky's greatest works being published in English — Ways of Russian Theology (in two volumes), The Eastern Fathers of the Fourth Century, and The Byzantine Fathers from the Fifth to the Eighth Centuries. One pauses with wonder when one realizes that Fr. Florovsky was so influential without these works having been published in a western language.

Fr. Georges Florovsky was born in Odessa in 1893. He was the beneficiary of that vibrant Russian educational experience, which flourished toward the end of the nineteenth century and produced many gifted scholars. The revolution aborted this rich, growing tradition. As a result of the revolution, trained Russian scholars became a part of the Russian emigration in Western Europe and in the United States. A tragic deprivation for Russia became a gift to western culture. One could perhaps compare the flight of Russian scholars to Western Europe and the United States and their concomitant influence with the flight and influence of Byzantine scholars in the fifteenth century. In both cases the western scholarly world was surprised at the high level of learning in both Russia and Byzantium.

Fr. Florovsky personified the cultivated, well-educated Russian of the turn of the century. His penetrating mind grasped both the detail and depth in the unfolding drama of the history of Christianity in both eastern and western forms. He was theologian, church historian, patristic scholar, philosopher, and Slavist. And he handled all these areas exceptionally well. As theologian he wrote brilliantly on the subjects -inter alia- of creation, divine energies, and redemption. As church historian he wrote on personalities and intellectual movements from all twenty centuries. As patristic scholar he wrote two volumes on the eastern and Byzantine fathers. As philosopher he wrote exceptionally well -inter alia- on the problem of evil and on the influence of ancient Greek philosophy on patristic thought as well as on the influence of German philosophy on Russian thought. As Slavist there was virtually no area of Russian life that he had not at some point analyzed.

Many western churchmen found him a positive challenge. Others found him intimidating, for here was one who possessed something similar to encyclopaedic knowledge. Here was one who had the ability to analyze with insight. Here was a voice from the Christian east capable of putting theological discussion, long bogged down in the west by reformation and counter-reformation polemics, on a new theological level with perceptive analyses of forgotten thought from the early centuries of the history of the Church. Fr. Florovsky became the spokesman for what he termed the "new patristic synthesis"; that is, one must return to patristic thought for a point of departure; church history ought not — from this perspective — be analyzed through the thought patterns of the reformation or of the Council of Trent or through the thought structure of Thomas Aquinas: one must return to the earliest life of the church, to that living church which existed before the written testimony of the New Testament and which ultimately determined the canon of our New Testament — the church of the fathers. That Fr. Florovsky influenced contemporary church historians is obvious. It is noteworthy that the best contemporary multi-volume history of the church pays a special tribute to Fr. Florovsky. Jaroslav Pelikan of Yale University, in the bibliographic section to his first volume in The Christian Tradition: A History of the Development of Doctrine, writes under reference to Fr. Florovsky's two volumes (in Russian) on the Church Fathers (The Eastern Fathers of the Fourth Century and The Byzantine Fathers of the Fifth to the Eighth Centuries): "These two works are basic to our interpretation of trinitarian and christological dogmas" (p. 359 from The Emergence of the Catholic Tradition: 100-600). George Huntston Williams, Hollis Professor of Divinity at Harvard Divinity School, wrote: "Faithful priestly son of the Russian Orthodox Church . . . , Fr. Georges Florovsky — with a career-long involvement in the ecumenical dialogue between apostolic patristic Orthodoxy and all the many forms of Christianity in the Old World and the New- is today the most articulate, trenchant and winsome exponent of Orthodox Theology and piety in the scholarly world. He is innovative and creative in the sense wholly of being ever prepared to restate the saving truth of Scripture and Tradition in the idiom of our contemporary yearning for the transcendent . . . "

Fr. Florovsky's professorial career led him from the University of Odessa to Prague, where he taught philosophy from 1922 until 1926. In 1926 he was invited to hold the chair of patrology at St. Sergius' Orthodox Theological Institute in Paris. In 1948 Fr. Florovsky accepted the deanship of St. Vladimir's Theological School in New York. Simultaneously he taught at Union Theological School and Columbia University. In 1956 Fr. Florovsky accepted an invitation from Harvard University where he held the chair of Eastern Church History until 1964. While teaching at Harvard University, Fr. Florovsky also taught at Holy Cross Greek Orthodox Theological School in Brookline, Massachusetts. From 1964 until his death in 1979 Fr. Florovsky was Visiting Professor at Princeton University. It should be remembered that through all the years and during all the research, Fr. Florovsky was a faithful priest of the Orthodox Church, officiating at the numerous liturgical services, presenting sermons, and acting as a spiritual guide and father confessor. The history of the translation of Ways of Russian Theology could by itself be a separate book. Suffice it to say that more persons had a hand in this project than is obvious, especially in the early years of the project. The work of Andrew Blane and friends was quite significant. In late 1974 I received a personal request from Fr. Florovsky to head the entire project and to bring it to completion. I hesitated until Fr. Florovsky insisted that I assume the general editorship of the project. I agreed. From that time on, the organization of the project began anew. The first step was to compare existing translations.

The second step was taken when Fr. Florovsky insisted that Robert L. Nichols be appointed the new translator. The third step was to compare the new translation with the original text. And, finally c. 868 footnotes were added to part One of Ways of Russian Theology. I do not pretend that we have produced a perfect book. There are, I am sure, errors still to be uncovered. But in the main I think the product is "ready," especially in light of the fact that a readership has been awaiting this English translation for approximately forty years.

The footnotes were added for a specific reason. It was thought that there would be two types of readership: theologians who might be unfamiliar with the world of Russian culture in general; and, Slavists who might be unfamiliar with church history and patristics. It was considered unfair to expect Slavists to know Cappadocian theology, just as it was considered unfair to expect a theologian to know the poetry of Tiutchev. It was decided that an index to both volumes would appear only with Part Two of Ways of Russian Theology. I wish to thank my wife, Vera, for her patience and help. A special debt of gratitude is owed to Fr. Janusz Ihnatowicz of the University of St. Thomas in Houston for his indispensable help in tracing references to Polish personalities. And, of course, without the work of Robert L. Nichols and Paul Kachur this work could not have been completed.

Everyone who has participated in this project would, I think, join in our earnest prayer from the Orthodox service: "With the saints, O Christ, give rest to the soul of thy servant, Fr. Georges, where there is neither sickness, nor sorrow, nor sighing, but life everlasting . . . For the ever-memorable servant of God, Fr. Georges, for his repose, tranquility and blessed memory, let us pray to the Lord . . . . That the Lord our God will establish his soul in a place of brightness, a place of verdure, a place of rest, where all the righteous dwell, let us pray to the Lord . . . . O God of all that is spiritual and of all flesh, who hast trampled down Death, and overthrown the Devil, and given life unto thy world, do thou, the same Lord, give rest to the soul of thy departed servant, Fr. Georges, in a place of brightness, a place of verdure, a place of repose, whence all sickness, sorrow and sighing have fled away. Pardon every transgression, which he hath committed, whether by word, or deed, or thought. For thou art a good God, and lovest mankind because there is no man who liveth and sinneth not; for thou only art without sin and thy righteousness is to all eternity, and thy word is true . . . . For thou art the Resurrection, and the Life, and the Repose of thy departed servant, Fr. Georges."

In loving memory

Richard S. Haugh Rice University

October 31, 1979.

Translator's Note.

Over a hundred and sixty years ago, in 1814, Archimandrite Filaret (Drozdov), then a youthful Orthodox reformer and later "ecumenical" metropolitan of Moscow, drew up a charter for the Russian ecclesiastical schools and submitted it to Tsar Alexander I. From that moment can be dated the awakening of modern Russian Orthodox thought. As Filaret told the learned clergy and laity gathered for the occasion, Orthodoxy had been dazzled and diverted by a series of western religious and cultural enthusiasms and now must "show its face in the true spirit of the Apostolic Church." In an important sense, Filaret's summons to recover and proclaim again the faith of the apostles and the Church fathers was answered when Fr. Georges Florovsky's Ways of Russian Theology appeared in 1937 among the Orthodox emigrés in Paris. Or, more accurately, the book represented the culmination of more than a century's effort by Russians, beginning with Filaret, to rediscover their own Orthodox tradition.

Ways of Russian Theology forms an integral part of the attempt to purify Russian Orthodoxy by clarifying its proper relationship to the West. From the sixteenth to the nineteenth century, the Russian Church found itself intellectually unprepared to deal with the religious and cultural storms bursting in upon it. First came the era of open hostilities between Protestants and Catholics; later came the Enlightenment and Romanticism. Consequently, Orthodoxy absorbed, sometimes unconsciously, western scholasticism, deism, pietism, and idealism, and produced what Fr. Florovsky describes as the "pseudomorphosis" of Russia's authentic religious life derived from Byzantium. Only in the nineteenth century did Russian Orthodoxy seriously undertake to recover its Byzantine heritage and find its way "back to the Fathers," thereby laying the foundation for Florovsky's later program of "neo-atristic synthesis," a concept he elaborates in his own preface to this book and throughout the study.

Although no one has gone so far as to say about Florovsky what the historian S. M. Solov'ev once said about Filaret ("Every day for lunch he ate two priests and two minnows"), his caustic remarks about prominent figures in Russian history prepared the atmosphere for the cool and critical manner in which the book was received. Ways of Russian Theology was not well reviewed. His colleagues at the St. Sergius Institute in Paris collaborated against him in order to shield the students from his influence. Nicholas Berdiaev wrote a long review in The Way (Put J, the leading Orthodox intellectual journal in the Russian emigration, accusing him of arrogance and speaking as though he were God thundering down mal judgment on those with whom he disagreed. Many at the Institute saw the book as a full scale attack on Russia and its faith.[1] They resented the acerbic remarks about those who he be believed to have surrendered to the West: "Feofan Prokopovich was a dreadful person . . . (He) stands forth not as a westerner, but as a western man, a foreigner . . . (He) viewed the Orthodox world as an outsider and imagined it to be a duplicate of Rome. He simply did not experience Orthodoxy, absorbed as he was in western disputes. In those debates he remained to the end allied with the Protestants." Similarly, Peter Mogila, the great seventeenth century churchman, is described as a "crypto-Roman." "He brought Orthodoxy to what might be called a Latin "pseudomorphosis." And, in a manner which would inevitably provoke his Parisian associates, Florovsky wrote that "N. A. Berdiaev drank so deeply at the springs of German mysticism and philosophy that he could not break loose from the fatal German circle.. . German mysticism cut him off from the life of the Great Church." Naturally, the book found even fewer friends among the Russian "radicals" in Paris. Paul Miliukov tried to silence the book by refusing to print Professor Bitselli's review in Russian Notes (Russkiia zapiski).

But aside from the polemical style, why the hostility to the book in Orthodox intellectual circles? Because it effectively questioned the historical basis of many of their strongly held theological views. Florovsky quickly emerged as the most authoritative living voice of Russian Orthodoxy in the West, and he sought to use his position to pose new questions about ecumenicity derived from his reflection on the Russian experience and its Byzantine past. Modern Russian Orthodox ecumenism, if it begins anywhere, begins in Paris with him. Not, of course, only with him, and not only in the 1930s. He had the experience of the preceding century to draw upon. Metropolitan Filaret and the editorial board for the journal The Works of the Holy Fathers in Russian Translation obviously anticipated his appeal for a "return to the Fathers." The Orthodox emigrés in Paris were working clergy and laymen trying to acclimate Russian Orthodoxy to the ecumenical challenges of the twentieth century. All worked on the same problems: a re-examination of Russia's religious past, the meaning of the Revolution for Russia and the modern world, and the role of Russian Orthodoxy in the present and future.

But among all those who thus served the Church in exile, Fr. Florovsky stands alone. Others might explore and refine Orthodox thought but Florovsky altered the context in which discussion of the Church's work, meaning, and character must take place. In so doing, he laid the foundation for reconciling the "Eastern and the Oriental" Orthodox Churches. His "asymmetrical" definition of the Chalcedonian formula first appeared in his 1933 lectures on the Byzantine Fathers of the V-VIII Centuries. In Ways of Russian Theology he clarified the short-comings, achievements, and tasks of the Russian Church. And in the next few years he defined the necessary approach Eastern Orthodoxy must take in order to overcome separation from the other Christian confessions. In 1937, at the ecumenical encounters in Athens and Edinburgh, he explained his "neopatristic synthesis" or "re-Hellenization" of Orthodoxy in such a way as to exercise "a profound influence upon the. . . (Edinburgh) Conference, presenting the eternal truths of the Catholic Faith so effectively, so winsomely, and so clearly that they commended themselves to men of the most diversified nationalities and religious backgrounds."[2] All this, in its essentials, was carried through in a remarkably short period from 1930 until the outbreak of the war.

The war in Europe claimed Ways of Russian Theology as one of its casualties. Nearly the entire stock of the book was destroyed during a bombing raid on Belgrade near which Florovsky had moved to serve as chaplain and religious teacher to the Russian colony at Bela Crkva. Although copies survived there and elsewhere, the book became somewhat rare. The present translation will, therefore, make this monumental work more readily available by bringing it to the attention of a much larger non-Russian speaking English public. The book's great erudition and compassion deserve the widest possible audience. An English translation has long been overdue.

All translators, if they are to any extent conscious of their work, recognize the disparity between the original they read and the work they produce. On very rare occasions a translator perfectly captures his subject, but far more often he only approximates or suggests the original. This book follows the general rule. Fr. Florovsky's Ways of Russian Theology is not an easy book to render into English. It is a highly personal and passionate account of Russian religious thought and Russian culture constructed from words, phrases, and thoughts so deeply rooted in the Russian Orthodox tradition that the English translator can only imperfectly convey their rich associations. Consequently, he must settle for something less, and I have tried to retain the vigor and earnestness of the book by writing English prose rather than providing a literal rendition of the Russian text. I do not claim to have succeeded in capturing Fr. Florovsky's style; I only claim an attempt at avoiding the awkwardness of a more precisely literal reproduction. As Edward Fitzgerald once observed: "the live dog better than the dead lion" (Letters, London, 1894).

The translation of Ways of Russian Theology is actually a work of many. In 1975, when I first became part of the project, rough drafts of several chapters and sections of others had already been completed. These drafts included a portion of chapter 2, chapters 3 and 4, sections 1-7 of chapter 5, section 14 of chapter 7, and chapters 8 and 9. When at the request of Fr. Florovsky and Richard Haugh, the general editor of this project, I agreed to assume the burden of this project previously carried forward by the earlier group, I extensively revised and in some instances retranslated the chapters already in draft form, and translated the remainder of chapter 5 as well as the preface and chapters 1, 6, and 7. To all the chapters I added numerous explanatory notes. The general editor, Richard Haugh, has appended still others. In sum, the translation is a collective enterprise which has taken considerable time to complete, worked on as it has been during summers, holidays, and at other spare moments in working days devoted to teaching, other literary projects, and administrative duties. Of course, I assume full responsibility for any errors in the translation, but the hard, selfless labor of the previous translators must receive full acknowledgement.

One further word about the notes accompanying the text. Those notes designated within brackets as "Author's notes" are of two kinds. One contains material removed from the body of the text, so that it does not interrupt the narrative. Such material is usually, but not always, of a bibliographical character. The other sort provides information taken from the bibliography at the end of the Russian edition. (That full bibliography is not included with this translation. Only a selected bibliography is appended. Readers who wish to use the very extensive Russian bibliography are invited to consult the original 1937 YMCA Press edition). Where necessary, I have provided a more exact citation to a work (i.e., edition, volume, page, etc). than that contained in the original. All notes not directly attributed to the author are mine or the editor's. Transliteration has been done following the usage of the Slavic Review. Generally, Russian Christian names are reproduced here, with a few exceptions where the name is well known (e.g. Lev rather than Leo, except for Leo Tolstoy).

Square brackets are used very sparingly in the text to enclose material added by the translator. In bringing the translation of Ways of Russian Theology into print, it is a pleasure to thank all those who helped me with the task. First to Richard and Vera Haugh, who checked the translation against the original and who have showed a cheerful helpfulness throughout the work. Also, to Mrs. Thelma Winter and Mrs. Maryann LoGuidice who patiently typed the manuscript and to Dean William Nelsen and President Sidney Rand of St. Olaf College who provided financial assistance for the typing. Most of all I would like to thank my wife Sharon and my children who often wondered aloud when the job would be done, but never complained when it was not.

Robert L. Nichols

Saint Olaf College Northfield,

Minnesota June 1, 1978

1. Many of the biographical and bibliographical facts about Florovsky used here are drawn from Professor George H. William's admirable essay "Georges Vasilievich Florovsky: His American Career (1948-1965)," The Greek Orthodox Theological Review, Vol. II, No. 1 (Summer, 1965), 7-107. Concerning the quarrel over the book, Williams follows Alexander Schmemann's suggestion (27-28) that the Institute stood polarized at the time between the majority representing the "Russian" school, "who were reworking the major themes of Russian nineteenth-century theology and philosophy," and Florovsky with his "programmatic" return to the Fathers in order to repossess `Christian' or `sacred Hellenism'.

However, the division between "Hellenists" and "Russians" seems over-drawn, for we are actually dealing with at least two trends in modern Russian theology. One directly continued the themes of the Slavophiles, Vladimir Solov'ev, and the Russian "idea"-the theme of Russia's universalizing response to western humanism. (Florovsky directly challenges this school in the final chapter of the book, where he asks why Russia's culture is punctuated with discontinuities and replies that Russia's "universal responsiveness" is "fatal" and "ambiguous.") The other trend, while by no means indifferent to the first, stressed the need to recover "genuine" Orthodox tradition-a major nineteenth century theme centering particularly in the Moscow Theological Academy. It would be more correct to speak of two emphases within Russia's recent theological past which continued to grow and flourish even in emigration after 1917 rather than speak of two groups, only one of which dwelled on the major themes of nineteenth century Russian theology and philosophy. Even Berdiaev, who admonished Florovsky for preferring an abstract and inhuman Byzantinism to Russia's higher spirituality, ends his review by linking Florovsky to nineteenth century Russian themes. See Put', No. 53 (April-July, 1937), 5 3-75.

2. "Role of Honour," (Editorial), The Living Church (New York and Milwaukee), Vol. 98, 1 (January 5, 1938), 1 f. as quoted in Williams, op. cit., 38.

Author's Preface.

This book was conceived as an experiment in historical synthesis, as an experiment in the history of Russian thought. Preceding the synthesis, as long ago as the days of my youth, came years of analysis, many years of slow reading and reflection. For me the past fate of Russian theology was always the history of a creative contemporaneity in which I had to find myself. Historical impartiality is not violated in this way. Impartiality is not non-participation. It is not indifference nor a refusal to make an evaluation. History explains events, discloses their meaning and significance. The historian must never forget that he studies and describes the creative tragedy of human life. He must not, for he cannot. Unbiased history has never existed and never will.

Studying the Russian past led me to the conviction and strengthened me in it that in our day the Orthodox theologian can only find for himself the true measure and living source of creative inspiration in patristic tradition. I am convinced the intellectual break from patristics and Byzantinism was the chief cause for all the interruptions and failures in Russia's development. The history of these failures is told in this book. All the genuine achievements of Russian theology were always linked with a creative return to patristic sources. That this narrow path of patristic theology is the sole true way is revealed with particular clarity in historical perspective. Yet the return to the fathers must not be solely intellectual or historical, it must be a return in spirit and prayer, a living and creative self-restoration to the fullness of the Church in the entirety of sacred tradition.

We are granted to live in an age of theological awakening bespoken throughout the divided Christian world. It is time to reexamine and recall with great attention all the sometimes cruel, sometimes inspired lessons and testaments of the past. But a genuine awakening can only begin when not only the answers but the questions are heard in the past and in the future. The inexhaustible power of patristic tradition in theology is defined still more by the fact that theology was a matter of life for the holy fathers, a spiritual quest (podvig), a confession of faith, a creative resolution of living tasks. The ancient books were always inspired with this creative spirit. Healthy theological sensitivity, without which the sought-for Orthodox awakening will not come, can only be restored in our ecclesiastical society through a return to the fathers. In our day theological confessionalism acquires special importance among the Church's labors as the inclusion of the mind and will within the Church, as a living entry of truth into the mind. Vos exemplaria graeca nocturna versate diurrna. Orthodoxy is once again revealed in patristic exegesis as a conquering power, as the power giving rebirth and affirmation to life, not only as a way station for tired and disillusioned souls; not only as the end but as the beginning, the beginning of a quest and creativity, a "new creature."

In finishing the book, I recall with gratitude all those who by example or counsel, by books and inquiries, by objection, sympathy or reproach helped and help me in my work. I gratefully remember the libraries and repositories whose hospitality I enjoyed during the long years of my studies. Here I must mention one name dear to me, the late P. I. Novgorodtsev, an image of truthfulness who will never die in my heart's memory. I am indebted to him more than can possibly be expressed in words. "True instruction was in his mouth" (Malachi 2:6).

 

1. The Crisis of Russian Byzantinism.

Introduction.

The history of Russian thought contains a good deal that is problematical and incomprehensible. The most important question is this: what is the meaning of Russia's ancient, enduring, and centuries long intellectual silence? How does one explain the late and belated awakening of Russian thought? The historian is amazed when he passes from the dynamic and often loquacious Byzantium to placid, silent Rus'. Such a development is perplexing. Was Russia silent, lost in thought, and wrapped in contemplation of God? Or was it mired in spiritual stagnation and idleness? Was it lost in dreams or in a semidormant existence?

No historian today would agree with Golubinskii that prior to the revolution wrought by Peter the Great,[2] Old Russia possessed no civilization or literature and hardly even any literacy. At present such sweeping generalizations seem only curious, lacking either polemic or passion. Moreover, few historians would still repeat Kliuchevskii's [3] statement that for all its seeming intensity and power, Old Russian thought never exceeded the limits of "ecclesiastical and moral casuistry." Yet in addition to the Questions of Kirik [Voproshaniia Kirika], [4] there is also the Instruction [Pouchenie] [5] of Vladimir Monomakh.[6] A good deal was tested and experienced during those pre-Petrine centuries. And the Russian icon irrefutably testifies to the complexity and profundity, as well as to the genuine beauty, of Old Russia's religious life and of the creative power of the Russian spirit. With justice, Russian iconography has been described as a "theology in colors."[7] Still, Old Russian culture remained unformulated and mute. The Russian spirit received no creative literary and intellectual expression. The inexpressible and unexpressed quality in Old Russia's culture often appears unhealthy. Many have viewed it as simple backwardness and primitivism and explained it by Old Russia's fatal ties with a pitiful Byzantium. This, in essence, was the view of Chaadaev (la miserable Byaance).[8] In any case, such an interpretation is insufficient. Byzantium of the tenth century was certainly not in decline. On the contrary, the tenth century was a period of renewal and renaissance in the Byzantine Empire. Moreover, strictly speaking, in the tenth century Byzantium was the sole country of genuine culture throughout the entire "European" world, and it long remained a source of living culture, whose creative tension even survived a period of political decline and collapse. Byzantine culture and religious life experienced a new advance, which colored the entire Italian Renaissance.[9] In any event, communion with Byzantine culture could in no way cut off or isolate Old Russia from the "great families of the human race," as Chaadaev believed. In general, one cannot explain the difficulties of Old Russia's development by its lack of culture. The crisis of Old Russia was one of culture, not the lack of culture or non-culture. The undisclosed intellectual aspect of Old Russia's spirit is a consequence and an expression of inner doubts or aporia. This was a true crisis of culture, a crisis of Byzantine culture in the Russian spirit. At the most decisive moment in Russia's effort at national and historical self-definition, Byzantine tradition was interrupted. The Byzantine legacy was set aside and remained half-forgotten. The core and essence of this cultural crisis consisted of Russia's rejection of the "Greeks."

It is no longer necessary to prove that there is a "chronology" in Old Russian culture and letters. The attentive historian now has in sufficient clarity before him all the multifaceted and mutually incommensurate and separate historical moments and formations, so that he need no longer search for a general "formula" or designation for all of "Old Russia," as if it was of one piece from St. Vladimir's[10] times to the reign of Tsar Aleksei Mikhailovich.[11] In reality Old Russia was not one world but many. Moreover, it is impossible to construct and interpret Russian history as some peculiar and self contained process. Russia was never isolated and separated from the "great families of the human race."

The Pagan Era.

Russia's cultural history begins with the baptism of Rus'.[12] The pagan era served only as a threshold. This certainly does not mean that the pagan past was of no significance. There remained faint (although sometimes quite visible) traces of paganism whose memory was long preserved in the popular mind, customs [byt'], and style. Moreover, Vladimir Solov'ev[13] justifiably described the baptism of Rus' as a form of national self-rejection, an interruption or break in the national tradition. Baptism does indeed signify a break. Paganism did not die, nor was it rendered powerless. As if through some historical underground, this hidden life, simultaneously of two minds and of two faiths, flowed through the troubled depths of the popular subconciousness. In essence, two cultures-one by day and one by night were intertwined. Of course the adherents to the "day" culture were the minority. However, as is always the case, an equation of spiritual potentials does not indicate any historical formation's capacity for life and growth. The newly acquired Byzantine Christian culture did not instantly become "popular" culture; it long remained the property and possession of a literate and cultured minority. This was an inescapable and natural stage in the process. However, one must remember that the history of this "daytime" Christian culture did not constitute the whole of Russia's spiritual destiny. A "second culture" developed in the subterranean regions, forging a new and unique syncretism in which local pagan "survivals" melted together with borrowed ancient mythology and Christian imagination. This second life flowed underground and frequently broke through to history's surface. Yet one always detects its hidden presence as foamy and tempestuous lava. The barrier between these two social and spiritual strata was always fluid and diffuse and constantly permeated from each side by the process of osmosis. But these strata were not fully independent of each other. Their different spiritual and religious qualities were more important and might be defined as follows: "daytime" culture was the culture of the spirit and the mind. This was an "intellectual" culture. "Nighttime" culture comprised the realm of dreams and imagination.

In sum, the inner dynamic of cultural life is always defined by mutual interpenetration of such qualities and aspirations. The unhealthiness of Old Russia's development lay foremost in the fact that its "nighttime" imagination too long and stubbornly concealed itself and fled from the examination, verification, and purification of "thought." Early polemists and sermonists had already noted the strange durability of such syncretic "fables." They thereby detected in this capriciousness of popular imagination one of the fundamental traits of the Russian national spirit. While accurate, this statement must immediately be qualified. In any event, we are dealing here with an historical quantity, not a pre-historical or extra-historical one. In other words, syncretism is a product of development, the result of process, an historical concretion, and not only or merely an inherited trait or characteristic preserved despite the interplay of historical forces.

The defect and weakness of Old Russia's spiritual development in part consisted of its defective ascetic temperament (certainly not of any excess of asceticism) and in part it consisted of its soul's insufficient spirituality, excessive "piety" or "poetics" as well as its spiritual amorphousness. If one prefers, it consisted of its spontaneity.

This is the source of that contrast which might be described as the counterpoint of Byzantine "aridity" to Slavic "plasticity." It must be noted that this does not refer to some lack of "scientific" rationalism (although the disjunction of "piety" and reason or rational doubt is no less a sickness than dreamy imagination). But what is under discussion here is spiritual sublimation and the transformation of piety into spirituality through "intellectual" discipline and through the achievement of insight and contemplation.

The path is not one from "naivete" to "consciousness," from "faith" to "knowledge," or from trust to disbelief and criticism. But it is a path from an elemental lack of will to willed responsibility, from the whirl of ideas and passions to discipline and composure of the spirit; from imagination and argument to a wholeness among spiritual life, experience, and insight; from the "psychological" to the "pneumatic." And this long hard road, this road of intellectual and inner achievement, is the imperceptible road of historical construction.

The tragedy of the Russian spirit was first performed amidst such spiritual and psychological aporia. The split between these two strata is only one very formal expression of that tragedy. And it will not do to ascribe it to some formal categories, mythology, or structure of the Russian spirit. Historical destiny is fulfilled in specific events and acts, in the willingness or refusal to make decisions when confronted with concrete living tasks.

The Baptism of Rus'.

Rus' received baptism from Byzantium. That act immediately defined its historical destiny and its cultural and historical road. Rus' was immediately included in a definite and previously elaborated network of ties and actions. Baptism marked the awakening of the Russian spirit. It was a summons from the "poetic" dreaminess to spiritual temperance and thought. At the same time Christianity ushered Rus' into creative and vital intercourse with the entire surrounding civilized world. Of course, one cannot and should not imagine the baptism of Rus' as a single event for which a precise date can be given. Baptism was a complex and multifaceted process; a lengthy and frequently punctuated event extending not over decades but over centuries. In any case, it began before the reign of Vladimir. "Christianity prior to Vladimir" is a much greater and better defined quantity than is usually assumed. Prior to St. Vladimir's day, cultural and religious ties were already established between Kiev and Tsar Symeon in Bulgaria[14] and perhaps with Moravia. Baptism laid claim to the legacy of SS. Cyril and Methodius.[15] Byzantine influence was not only direct and immediate (it would seem that its indirect influence came first and was the most significant and decisive one). Acceptance of the Cyril and Methodius legacy, not the direct reception of Byzantine culture, proved decisive. Direct spiritual and cultural contact with Byzantium and the Greek element was secondary to that from Bulgaria. Possibly one can even speak of a clash and struggle in ancient Kiev between elements and influences, between those of Bulgaria and those directly from Greece.

However, we still do not know in detail the history of this struggle, and it cannot be surmised or reconstructed. Differences and divergencies among such contending influences should not be exaggerated. One theory suggests that the "Greek faith" and the "Bulgarian faith" were in essence quite different, so that at the very dawn of Russian Christianity two religious ideals or doctrines contested with each other. The victor was not the joyous Christianity of the Gospels, which inspired and enflamed St. Vladimir. Instead, a different and "dark religious doctrine," Bogomilism, triumphed.[16] Many objections can be quickly raised against such a bold interpretation. First, all efforts to separate the "faith of Vladimir," that "joyful and triumphant Christian outlook" "free from ascetic rigorism" from that of Bulgaria betrays an incomprehensible misunderstanding. It would be more appropriate to deduce this "dark doctrine" from the Bulgaria of the priest Cosmas’[17] day, for Bogomilism was then precisely a "Bulgarian heresy." Second, one is hardly permitted to array all of the religious life of the Monastery of the Caves[18] under the rubric of this "dark doctrine" and attribute the monastery's ascetic life to fanaticism. In any case, such a characterization scarcely describes St. Feodosii,[19] who is least of all a "dark" person. But he is undoubtedly a Grecophile personally linked with the Monastery of Studior.[20] And it should not be imagined that the "Greek faith" possessed only a single face. Great caution and precision in making distinctions is needed at this point, but one would do well to compare St. Symeon the New Theologian[21] with his opponents during this same eleventh century. Third, doubt is cast on the work of SS. Cyril and Methodius. Was their labor not a mistake or an extremely careless undertaking?[22] Does not the Slavic language of the Church mark a "break with classical culture?" Translation obscures the original and reduces the need to know Greek in that same way which compelled the West to learn the Latin language of the Church. This "absence of a classical legacy," as one of the chief traits distinguishing Russian from "European" culture, was noted long ago by the Slavophiles, and in particular by Ivan Kireevskii.[23] However, oversimplification will not do. True, neither Homer nor Virgil was known in ancient Kiev, but it does not follow that the Slavic language of the liturgy provided the impediment. Only irresponsible hyperbole could suggest that of all the riches of Christian Hellenism, Rus' received from Byzantium only "one book," the Bible. In any event, it is hardly true that only the Bible was translated, for a long list of other sufficiently diverse literary monuments were translated as well. One must also admit that the "scientific, philosophical, and literary tradition of Greece is absent" in Old Russia's cultural inventory. But again, this was not the fault of the Slavic language.

Most importantly, the very fact or process of translation cannot be diminished. Biblical translation has always been a major ' event in a nation's life and has always signified a particular effort and achievement. The constant sound of the Gospels in the familiar language of the liturgy obliged and facilitated the recollection of Christ and the preservation of His living image in the heart. In general, translation requires more than just a knowledge of the words; it also requires a great creative tension and presence of mind. Translation is a mental vigil and trial, not simple exercise or abstract mental gymnastics. Authentic translation always means the molding of the translator. He must penetrate his subject; that is, he must be enriched by the event and not just have his knowledge increased. Hence the enduring significance of the writings of Cyril and Methodius. Their work shaped and formed the "Slavic" language, gave it an inner Christian leavening, and infused it with ecclesiastical life. The very substance of Slavic thought became transfigured. "Slavic" language was molded and forged in the Christian crucible under the powerful pressure of Greek ecclesiastical language. This was not simply a literary process; it was the construction of thought. Christian influence was felt far beyond and far deeper than in any particular religious themes. Christianity affected the very manner of thinking.

Thus, after its conversion, eleventh century Rus' saw the sudden appearance of an entire literature written in a familiar and wholly comprehensible language. In effect, the entire library of Tsar Symeon's Bulgaria became accessible to Russian writers. Jagic[24] once made the following remark about the literature of Symeon's age: "because of the richness of its literary works of religious and ecclesiastical content, [it] could rightly stand alongside the richest literature of the time whether Greek or Latin, exceeding in this regard all other European literatures." The present day historian of Slavic literature can fully endorse this estimate.

In any event, the outlook of Old Russia's man of letters cannot be described as narrow. The opposite difficulty and danger was actually greater: the transfer of a complete literature might overwhelm a Russian writer or reader, for a new and wealthy but utterly foreign world stood before him-a world that was too rich and remote from the surrounding national life. Once again what was most needed was psychological self-discipline and self-abstraction.

Of course the acquisition of Bulgarian letters should not be seen as a single act or an unique event. In reality their "acquisition" meant that Bulgarian writings became a source from which educated Russians could take what they wished. Bulgarian writings, however, did not obscure those in Greek, at least not during the eleventh century. At Iaroslav's[25] court in Kiev (and soon at the cathedral of St. Sophia as well), a circle of translators labored on translations from Greek. Thus, a long series of literary monuments unknown in Tsar Symeon's Bulgaria was included in the Slavic idiom.

Iaroslav loved religious rules and regulations and was devoted to priests, especially to monks. He applied himself to books, and read them continually day and night. He assembled many scribes, and translated from Greek into Slavic. He copied and collected many books. . . .

It is interesting to note that the literature brought from Bulgaria was largely related to liturgical needs (the Holy Scriptures and patristic writings for reading in the cathedrals), while at Iaroslav's court historical and secular books were more often translated.

Kiev stood at a great crossroads. No one should imagine that the Church of Kievan Rus' was cut off or isolated. During the eleventh and twelfth centuries, Kiev maintained close links with Constantinople and Mt. Athos,[26] as well as with distant Palestine, which at that time was in the hands of the Crusaders. Ties with the West, too, were constant and well developed. We can confidently surmise how the acquisition of Byzantine Christian literature, that communion with Christian culture, resounded in Rus'. The first Russian chroniclers, hagiographers, and biographers of the new and holy Rus' were raised precisely on this literature. These men possessed a definite and sensitive outlook. They were certainly not naive simpletons. One always detects a clear religious and historical tendency or conception in the development of the chronicles.

Several names are particularly relevant to this discussion. One is Metropolitan Ilarion,[27] best known as the author of the remarkable sermon On the Law of Moses Given to Him by God and on Grace and Truth [O zakone, Moiseom dannom, i o blagodati i istine] which even that constantly carping Golubinskii was compelled to describe as "an impeccable academic speech with which among modern speeches only those of Karamzin[28] can be compared," and "[he was] not a rhetorician of the least distinguished days of Greek oratory, but a true orator during its flourishing period." Golubinskii deemed Ilarion's sermon worthy to stand alongside The Tale of Igor's Campaign, [Slovo o polku Igoreve]. In fact, it is an exemplary model of oratorical skill. The language is free and simple. It discloses the intensity of Christian experiences and it possesses a well made and translucent structure. The sermons of Kirill of Turov[29] belong to the same literary type.

There is little point in speaking about the originality of these writers. They were under the formative influence of Byzantine letters, repeating foreign themes and exploiting well-known material. Yet for the historian it is precisely this fact which is the important and instructive one. Kirill of Turov himself reminds us that he teaches and writes "not from myself, but from books." And "from books" he wrote ably and freely. Kirill's sermons are very dramatic, yet rhetorical '' refinement does not overcome his vital and sensitive heart. Of course his sermons are merely compilations, although they are inspired and living ones. One must also mention Klimentii Smoliatich[30]: "Such a philosopher there has not yet been in the Russian land," the Chronicle says of him. He wrote "from Homer, from Aristotle, and from Plato." Mention, too, should be made of St. Avraamii of Smolensk.[31] To be sure, these men were part of a minority, or if one prefers, of an ecclesiastical intelligentsia. During these early centuries there were no theologians in their ranks. But there were men of genuine Christian cultivation and culture. They made the first flights of Russian Hellenism.

Second "South Slavic" Influence

Eremitical Renaissance Ivan III and the West.

The Tatar invasion[32] was a national disaster and a political catastrophe. "The destruction of the Russian land," as one contemporary puts it. "A pagan scourge." "A cruel people came upon us, violating God and laying waste our land." There is no need to lighten the colors while portraying such devastation and destruction.

However, the Tatar yoke does not constitute a separate period in the history of Russian culture. No interruption or break can be observed in Russia's cultural effort or in its creative mood and aspirations. True, culture moves or is displaced to the north. New centers develop, while old ones decline. Yet this new growth sprang from seeds previously sown and cultivated, not from the "transmission of enlightenment" from the cultured south of Kiev to the semi-barbarous northeast, as until even recently some historians have delighted in describing the process. The north had long since ceased to be wild and unknown. Situated astride a major crossroad, the Suzdal' land hardly stood as a lonely outpost.

In any case, the thirteenth century was not a time of decline or impoverishment in the history of Russian culture and letters.[33] An important series of ideological and cultural tasks was started at that time and included the Paterikon[34] of the Monastery of the Caves, the Palaea[35] (the Old Testament), and a series of anti-Jewish polemics, not to mention the sophisticated level of writing already achieved in the chronicles. As early as the thirteenth century one detects in these literary works new bonds with the Slavic south and the Dalmatian coast. The next century saw those bonds strengthened and multiplied, making it possible to speak of a new wave of "South Slavic" influence. And this new vitality did not merely echo but directly continued the new cultural movement in Byzantium correctly termed the "Palaeologian Renaissance,"[36] which captivated the new South Slavic kingdoms. Rus' was in intimate contact with Patriarch Euthymius'[37] Bulgaria during the fourteenth century, and for this reason the example of Metropolitan Kiprian is instructive. He was born in Turnovo. Later he became a monk at the Studion Monastery and then a monk on Mt. Athos. As the Greek protege and candidate, he came to Russia to occupy the office of the metropolitan. Moscow received him with great reluctance and delay. Yet this reception did not prevent him from leaving a significant mark on the history of Russian culture. As a learned man and bibliophile, Kiprian devoted himself to translations, not, however, with any great success. "He wrote everything in Serbian." More important were his liturgical writings and concerns. He attempted to introduce Russia to the liturgical reform of the well-known Palamite, Patriarch Philotheus of Constantinople.[38] It would seem that the celebration of Gregory of Palamas[39] as a saint in the Russian Church dates back to Kiprian. Kiprian was a convinced non-possessor.[40] He was also a foreigner and a newcomer to Moscow, and quite typical of that incipient movement which he had not begun. Russian ties with Constantinople and Mt. Athos were strengthened and revitalized during the fourteenth century. Russian settlements were founded or refurbished, being settled with many inhabitants who engaged in the copying of books. One notes a sizeable quantity of manuscripts and books in Russian monastic libraries which date back precisely to this period. More importantly, these new writings form a fresh new stream. This time their content was mystical and ascetical, but once again they constituted a complete literature. Indeed, this new translation activity on Mt. Athos and in Bulgaria stems from the Hesychast movement with its deeply contemplative spirit and approach. These translations made the works of the ascetical Fathers known in Slavic literature. Such works included St. Basil the Great's[41] two homilies on fasting entitled De Jejunio, the writings of the Blessed Diadochus of Photice,[42] Isaac the Syrian,[43] Hesychius,[44] the Ladder of St. John Climacus,[45] On Love [O liubvi] , and the "Chapters" [Glavizny] by Maximus the Confessor[46] and various "Hymns of Divine Love" by Symeon the New Theologian,[47] as well as Dioptra by the monk Philipp.[48] Of particular note is the translation of the Areopagite[49] together with the commentaries made on Mt. Athos in 1371 by the monk Isaiah at the request of Theodosius, Metropolitan of Serres. Someone in Russia was reading such mystical and ascetical books.

The fourteenth century witnessed an eremitical and monastic renaissance: this is the age of St. Sergei of Radonezh.[50] One senses during these decades the powerful intensity of a new Byzantine impact in Russian Church art, particulary iconography. It is sufficient to mention the remarkable Theophanes the Greek[51] and his celebration in colors. And Theophanes was not alone, for he had many worthy disciples. Thus, during the fourteenth and part of the fifteenth century, Russian culture experienced a new wave of Byzantine influence.

Yet such new influence occurred on the eve of crisis and schism. True, the crisis had been long in the making, yet cultural self-consciousness had not been prepared for the break. The crisis was above all a national and political one linked with the growth of the Muscovite State and with the dawning of national political self-awareness. Such an awakening also required ecclesiastical independence from Constantinople. With a few interruptions, but always with great incisiveness and intensity, Moscow and Constantinople debated these themes throughout the fourteenth century. The quarrel was broken off rather than resolved. The Council of Florence[52] and the journey to that "unholy eighth council" by the Greek candidate for the Moscow see, Metropolitan (and later Cardinal) Isidore[53] served as a pretext for the break. Greek apostasy at Florence provided the justification and the basis for proclaiming independence. It was an act of ecclesiastical politics. But there were reverberations and consequences for cultural construction. Doubts and disquiet concerning the faith of the Greeks had some rational foundation. The fall of Constantinople served as an apocalyptical token and testimony (and not just in Russia was it given such an interpretation). Even much later Kurbskii[54] could write that "Satan was released from his imprisonment." One must remember how much in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries religious consciousness became agitated and confused by eschatological expectations and by a general foreboding: "night is approaching, our life is ending." "Behold, today apostasy is come," Iosif Volotskii was soon to write.[55]

The first traces of the famous "Third Rome Theory" are sketched out precisely in such perspectives of apocalyptical unrest. The theory is intrinsically an eschatological one, and the monk Filofei sustains its eschatological tones and categories. "For two Romes have fallen, a third stands, and a fourth there cannot be."[56] The pattern is a familiar one taken from Byzantine apocalyptical literature: it is the translatio imperii, or more accurately, the image of the wandering Kingdom-the Kingdom or city wandering or straying until the hour comes for it to flee into the desert.

The pattern has two sides: a minor one and a major one; an apocalyptical dimension and a chiliastic one. The minor side was primary and fundamental in Russia. The image of the Third Rome is brought into sharper focus against a background of the approaching end. "For we await the Kingdom which has no end." And Filofei recalls the apostolic warning: "The day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night." History is abbreviated and historical perspective is foreshortened. If Moscow is the Third Rome, then it is also the last. That is, the last epoch, the last earthly kingdom, has begun. The end approaches. "Thy Christian kingdom cannot remain." With the greatest humility and with the "greatest apprehension," a perfectly preserved pure faith must be observed and its commandments kept. In his epistle to the Grand Prince, Filofei gives warning and even makes threats, but he does not use glorification. Official writers only later reinterpreted this apocalyptical theme in a panegyrical sense. By doing so, the theory became transformed into a peculiar doctrine of semi-official chiliasm.[57] If one forgets about the Second Coming, then it is quite another matter to affirm that all Orthodox kingdoms are brought together and combined in that of Moscow, for then the Muscovite tsar is the last, sole, and therefore, universal tsar. Even in its original form, the Third Rome replaces and does not continue the Second. The task is not to continue or preserve Byzantine tradition unbroken. Byzantium somehow must be replaced or recreated. A new Rome must be constructed to replace the old one, which has fallen away. "The Muscovite tsars wished to become the heirs of the Byzantine emperors without leaving Moscow or entering Constantinople," as Kapterev had put it.[58] The conquest by the Hagarenes[59] provided the usual explanation for the fall of the Second Rome, and the "Hagarene captivity" was understood as a constant menace to the purity of the Greek faith. This fact accounts for the intense caution and mistrust in dealing with those Greeks living "in the pagan tsar's realm of godless Turks." Thus, the Orthodox horizon began to narrow.

It took only a short step to make a complete break with Greek tradition and to obliterate any memory of the Greek past, that is, the patristic past. The danger arose that the historical ecumenical tradition might become obscured and replaced by a local and national one which would confine ecumenical tradition within the arbitrary limits of Russia's specific and national memory. Vladimir Solov'ev rightly termed it "a Protestantism of national tradition." Of course not everyone shared this outlook. Such conclusions were certainly not reached all at once and probably no sooner than the mid-sixteenth century. But it is indicative of the way in which Greek mediation came to be completely excluded and rejected. In fact, the meaning of the story about the Apostle Andrew's sermon in Rus',[60] as amended and restated in the sixteenth century, must be understood precisely in this way. Gradually, but steadily, Byzantium's authority collapsed, and all interest in Byzantium ceased. Russia's national self-affirmation played the decisive part in this estrangement. Simultaneously Russia developed and strengthened its links with the West. By the end of the fifteenth century, many perceived the West as something more real than the destroyed and conquered Byzantium. Such sympathy is perfectly understandable and natural for practitioners of Realpolitik, that is, among men of politics. But sympathy for the West soon arose among other segments of society as well.

The marriage of Ivan III to Sophia Palaeologus is often viewed as a Byzantine restoration in Moscow.[61] In reality, the "marriage of our tsar in the Vatican" symbolized the beginning of Russian westernism. Of course Zoe, or Sophia, was a Byzantine princess, but in fact she was raised in the atmosphere of the union achieved by the Council of Florence. Cardinal Bessarion[62] served as her guardian. The marriage actually did take place in the Vatican, and a papal legate accompanied Sophia to Moscow. Despite the legate's enforced early departure from Moscow, the binding ties with Rome and Venice remained intact. The marriage quickly drew Moscow closer to the orbit of contemporary Italy and did not signify any awakened aware ness for Byzantine traditions and memories. "He lifted the curtain separating us from Europe," writes Karamzin about Ivan III. "Expiring Greece refuses the remains of its ancient greatness; Italy grants the first fruits of its nascent art. The people still stagnate in ignorance and coarseness, yet the state is already operating according to the dictates of an enlightened mind." Ivan III possessed an undoubted taste and preference for Italy. He brought architects from Italy to rebuild and remodel the Kremlin, the palace, and the cathedrals. "More Italico," as Herberstein[63] reports about these new constructions in Moscow built by such famous architects as Aristotle Fioravanti,[64] Aloisio[65] and Pietro Solario.[66] The influence of Byzantium at this time was far less evident. At the turn of the sixteenth century, Russian diplomats were strenuously absorbed in building an alliance with Suleiman I. "the Magnificent,"[67] and had little time for dreams about the "patrimony of Constantine" or a crusade against Constantinople. Western states, carefully calculating the power of Muscovy in the international arena, swiftly noted this development.

There is every reason to consider Ivan III a westerner. Such a description applies even more fully to Vasilii III. The son of the "Greek Enchantress" (as Kurbskii dubbed Sophia), Vasilii took as his second wife (in a disputed marriage) the Princess Glinskaia,[68] who was raised wholly in the western manner. "Thus, the Grand Prince has altered our ancient customs." This remark should not be confined to political or social changes. "Once again our land was in turmoil." It is interesting to note that Vasilii III's favorite physician, Nikolai "Nemchin" ("the German") or Bulev corresponded on such themes as the reunion of the churches. Many men of like mind surrounded him in Moscow. (These were the "modest connections" in higher ecclesiastical circles to which Golubinskii refers). It was Maxim the Greek's[69] fate to engage him in polemic and debate. Curiously, Nikolai "Nemchin" addressed himself to the Archbishop Vassian of Rostov (the brother of Iosif Volotskii) as if counting upon his sympathy or at least interest. Moreover, "Nemchin" was devoted to astrology.

Zabelin[70] has some responsible grounds for writing that many of Ivan III's policies evoke the image of Machiavelli. This applies more fully to Vasilii III, whose cruel and despotic rule, so often the object of complaint in boyar circles, more closely mimics contemporary Italian princes than it does any remote Byzantine basileus.

The Judaizers.

The Novgorodian lands had already experienced a new religious ferment as early as the fourteenth century. The "heresy of the strigol'-niki"[71] was primarily a protest against the Church hierarchy. Another and more complex movement appeared at the end of the next century: the Judaizer heresy. After capturing the leaders of the married clergy, the heresy shifted to Moscow where it "germinated" in the favorable soil of royal protection. Little is known about the movement, and even that knowledge comes from unreliable witnesses, the partisan opponents and enemies of the heresy such as Archbishop Gennadii of Novgorod[72] and especially Iosif Volotskii. Iosif's Enlightener [Prosvetitel'] constitutes the chief source.[73] There are also many important pieces of information not found in the first edition of the Enlightener which are preserved in Metropolitan Makarii's[74] Great Reading Compendium [Ireliki chet'i-minei]. Generally speaking, it is difficult to distinguish what is of primary importance from that which is secondary or even extraneous in the descriptions provided by these polemists.

The books coming from or circulating in Judaizer circles are much more reliable and instructive. They include Biblical translations from Hebrew and astrological books, as well as translations from Maimonides[75] and Algazel.[76] These translations were written in "Lithuanian," that is, West or Southwest Russian. The Judaizer monk Zakhar, around whom the trouble started, came from Kiev. His background remains obscure. Some scholars speculate that he might have lived among the Crimean Karaite Jews,[77] or he may have had connections with Constantinople. In any case, he was a representative of Jewish learning. "Judaizer" Biblical translations were produced in a Jewish milieu for use in the synagogue (for example, the text of the Book of Daniel is divided into the two categories of haphtarah or parashah[78] according to the days of the week). Thus, the Judaizer heresy expressed intellectual ferment. "Wavering has appeared in the people and in doubting words about the Divine" (The Nikonian Chronicle). "Now in the homes, along the roads, and in the market places, monks and laymen are all in doubt and anguish concerning the faith," wrote St. Iosif Volotskii. Judging by Archbishop Gennadii's first communications concerning the heresy, the ferment and doubts began as the result of reading books. Gennadii sought out books belonging to the heretics, such as Sylvester, Pope of Rome [Seliverst, papa Rimskii], (that is, the story of the white cowl[79] purportedly given to Pope Sylvester I by Constantine the Great) as well as Athanasius of Alexandria, The Sermon of Cosmas on the Bogomils [Slovo Koz my na bogomilov], Dionysius the Areopagite, Logic, the Biblical books of the Prophets, Genesis, Kings, and the Wisdom of Solomon. Menander[80] was also included. The list is a sufficiently diverse and disconnected one. However, the books of the Old Testament clearly stand out. Perhaps "doubts" developed precisely through the interpretation of texts. "They have altered the psalms and the prophecies," writes Gennadii. For the same reason St. Iosif Volotskii barely gets beyond the limits of clarifying texts in his Enlightener. Apparently the Judaizers found it difficult to accept the prefigurative meaning of the Old Testament to the effect that the prophecies have not yet come to pass but still await their fulfillment. Moreover, the Novgorodian heretics failed to discover any evidence concerning the Holy Trinity in the Old Testament theophanies. Possibly an outside or Jewish source accounted for these exegetical difficulties. One should recall that precisely at that moment work was going forward on Biblical texts at the Archbishop's court in Novgorod.

Astrological themes held a special place in "Judaizer" teachings. "You study the laws of the stars and gaze at the stars and arrange human birth and life according to them," Iosif Volotskii accuses the official Fedor Kuritsyn[81] and the archpriest Aleksei. Stargazing was directly imputed to Zakhar, "who has studied every contrivance for evil doing, as well as magic, the Black Book, the laws of the stars, and astrology." One such astrological book mentioned by Gennadii is fully known: the Six Wings [Shestokryl], a set of astronomical tables compiled in the fourteenth century by the Italian Jew Emmanuel bar Jacob. Astrology became an object of interest in Moscow at the outset of the sixteenth century. Even Maxim the Greek undertook to write about "the power and arrangement of the stars," and on the "German fascination for telling fortune and on fortune's wheel." In Novgorod, Gennadii most vigorously attacked Judaizer astrology, which was being used to calculate the date of Easter in connection with the end of the seventh millenium with its expectant apocalyptical catastrophe. According to Jewish calculations, the sixth millenium was only just beginning.

There is no need to recite the full history of the "Jewish heresy" or to attempt a complete reconstruction of its "system." Most likely there was no heretical enclave, only certain predispositions; that is, precisely those "waverings in the mind," or rethinking, referred to in the Nikonian Chronicle.

The historical significance of the "Judaizer" movement becomes clearer when it is related to other circumstances present in contemporary Novgorodian life. Quite probably the Novgorodian heretics adhered to Moscow's point of view. That would explain why Ivan III appointed those "soul harming archpriests" to the leading positions in the Kremlin cathedrals. The heretics found protection and support in Moscow. Meanwhile, in Novgorod a great and very important theological project was being carried through: the compilation and revision of the first complete Slavic Bible. Unexpectedly, the project passed into Roman Catholic hands. Although general supervision and official editorship belonged to the episcopal archdeacon Gerasim Popovka in reality a certain Dominican friar named Veniamin possessed the decisive influence. (Perhaps he came from Cracow or Prague). "A presbyter or monk of the monastery of St. Dominic by the name of Veniamin, born a Slovenian and by faith a Latin." This Veniamin did not come to Novgorod accidentally, and he was probably not alone. Foreigners were already gathering in Novgorod during the time when Evfimii was archbishop (1430-1458). "All who came from strange or foreign lands were received with love and given rest,"[82] wrote Pachomius the Serb. In any event, during Gennadii's day in Novgorod one observes a ferment in the Latin style. Apparently Veniamin brought prepared Biblical texts with him, for the influence of Croatian glagolitic can be detected in the language. No one in Novgorod attempted to use either Greek manuscripts or books. Nor were easily accessible Slavic materials (from the liturgical books) fully exploited. Yet the Vulgate's[83] influence clearly stands out. Whole books — Paralipomena Jeremiah, 3 Ezra, Wisdom of Solomon, 1 and 2 Maccabees -were simply translated from Latin. A German Bible published in 1500 supplied the introductory headings. Latin usage also dictated the inclusion into the text of the deutero-canonical books. One modern investigator characterized the Gennadii Bible as a "many-colored coat sewn from various tatters and patches." I.E. Evseev[84] speaks with leeriness of its "imperceptible approximation" to the Latin Bible ("the diverting of the Slavic Bible from its Greek streambed into a Latin one"). He also notes the "very thick Catholic atmosphere" surrounding Gennadii and the outright "appearance of a militant Catholic spirit in Russian ecclesiastical life."

During the period when Gennadii was archbishop, a good deal was translated from Latin "at the archbishop's residence." A treatise by Guillaume Durandus entitled Rationale divinorum officiorum[85] was translated at least in extracts, with the obvious purpose for use as a guide to the work on the new liturgical statute. (Judging by the language of the translation, one would suppose the translator was a foreigner. Perhaps it was the Dominican friar Veniamin). For the purposes of polemic with the Judaizers, Gennadii instructed the well-known Gerasimov to translate the famous book by the fourteenth century Franciscan Nicholas of Lyra,[86] De Messia eiusque adventu and the writings "against the apostate Jews" by Samuel the Jew.[87] To this same period belongs the very characteristic Brief discourse against those who would violate the sacred movable and immovable property of the Universal Church (Slovo kratko protivu tekh, izhe v veshchi sviashchennyia podvizhnyia i nepodvizhnyia, s'bomyia tserkvi vstupaiutsia]. The Brief Discourse was a defense of Church property and an assertion of the clergy's full independence. That independence included the right to act "with the aid of the secular arm," (that is, brachium saeculare). Undoubtedly, the book is a translation from Latin. Interestingly enough, the final version of saints' lives and instructional books are permeated with Latin constructions. Characteristic, too, is the special twist given to the stories of Varlaam and Ioasaf collected in Metropolitan Makarii's Great Reading Compendium. They were intended to demonstrate the superiority of ecclesiastical authority over temporal power. At the same time, anything "in the earlier redactions which spoke of the insignificance of all worldly blessings has been toned down. Both of these literary monuments relate precisely to that period when the quarrel broke out over Church properties and the relationship between Church and State. When the "Josephites" became dissatisfied with the Grand Prince's arbitrariness, Gennadii and Iosif turned to Latin sources for self-justification. In the course of his struggle with the Judaizers, when Gennadii was compelled to obtain a new Easter Cycle [Paskhaliia], or "Cycle for the creation of the world," he sent off for and obtained one from Rome. These were hardly accidental coincidences. One should recall the critical circumstances surrounding the question of civil punishment of heretics according to the example of the "Spanish king." Georg von Thurn, the envoy of the Hapsburg emperor, related how the Spanish king had "cleansed his land." Orest Miller[88] once made the remark that "in its inner meaning and spirit, the council on heretic held in Moscow under Iosif Volotskii's direction was a second council of Florence." Aside from its inaccuracy, his statement is too emphatic and sweeping. Yet in one respect he was correct: "at that moment the Latin world drew nearer to us than did the world of Greece." In essence, one observes in the celebrated debate between the Josephite and the Transvolgan Elders a struggle between new and old, between Latin and Greek.

Gennadii of Novgorod was replaced by Serapion, a man of completely different style, who is remembered for his tragic encounter with Iosif after he had been removed from office and incarcerated. Afterward, the archiepiscopal see in Novgorod long remained vacant. Obviously the circumstances affecting the development of ecclesiastical culture under Gennadii's direction did not alter. The same cultural atmosphere and purpose persisted and found a typical representative in Dmitrii Gerasimov. As an official in the Foreign Service with important responsibilities, he traveled frequently to Western Europe, including Rome. In his youth he had worked under the direction of Veniamin in Novgorod. Subsequently, he served as a translator for Maxim the Greek. Already "in venerable old age," in 1536, Makarii, then Archbishop of Novgorod, commanded him to translate "from Roman writing and speech" the Interpreted Psalter [Tolkovaia psaltir] of Bruno Herbipolensis (of Wiirzburg)[89] despite the fact that Maxim had been brought to Russia for the very purpose of translating such an interpreted Psalter from Greek. Gerasimov's translation stands as an epilogue to Gennadii's work.

Josephites, Transvolgan Elders and Maxim The Greek.

There exists an enormous literature about the conflict and debates between the "Josephites" and the "Transvolgan Elders," yet the meaning of this quarrel and of the "irritations" among the Russian monastics has still to be fully revealed. Historians have addressed "their attention mainly to the debates over monastic property or to the controversy surrounding the punishment of heretics. But those issues were only superficial ones. The real struggle went on deep below the surface and was fought over the very basis and limits of Christian life and construction. Two religious conceptions or, ideals clashed. The dispute over monastic properties served only as a formal pretext, clothing this inner tension. The religious life of the people became enmeshed in this spiritual contest, thereby polarizing the national life.

A detailed inquiry into this fateful historical struggle and schism would be inappropriate here. One needs only to determine its significance for the history of Russian culture. The chief difficulty for interpretation lies in the fact that the clash was one between two truths. St. Iosif's truth is now the harder one to grasp. His shallow and haughty successors badly tarnished it. But there was undeniably a truth — the truth of social service.

Iosif advocated and persuasively preached strict communal life. Although stern and harsh, he was strictest with himself. Life in his monastery was unbearably cruel and hard, requiring an extreme concentration of will and ultimate dedication. That dedication was linked with a measured, highly ritualized, and strictly regulated routine. Iosif's idea of social service and the calling of the Church entirely defined his outlook and reminds one of Russian populism of the mid-nineteenth century (that is, of "going to the people"). During Iosif's lifetime, the need was great for the Church to play such a role. The people lacked firm moral foundations, and the burdens of life were nearly insupportable. Josif's originality derives from his theory and practice of monastic life as a kind of social organization, as a special sort of religious and national service. His ideal "community" contains many new non-Byzantine traits. Formal regulation or ritualizing of life does not obscure his ideal's inner dimension, and that spiritual core is inwardly subordinated to social service and the achievement of justice and charity. Iosif least deserves to be called indulgent. Nor can he be accused of indifference or inattention to those around him. As a great benefactor and "a person, who commiserates with the unfortunate," he defended the ownership of monastic "villages" precisely on the basis of his philanthropical and social convictions. In fact, he received, "villages" from the powerful and wealthy so that he might share and divide their proceeds among the lower classes and the poor. Charity, not merely fear or a sense of obligation, prompted Iosif to carry out good works and convert his monastery into an orphanage and hospice, while setting aside a portion of the cemetery for burial of strangers.

Iosif includes even the tsar in this system of Godly injunctions The tsar, too, is subject to law, and he melds his power only within the framework of God's Law and the Commandments. One owes no service to an unjust or "disobedient" tsar, for he is not really a tsar. "Such a tsar is not God's servant, but a devil; not a tsar but a tyrant." Iosif borders on justification of regicide. One can easily see how subsequent generations of "Josephites" dimmed and emasculated St. Iosif's vision. Their words became unrelated to their deeds, so that even the most learned pastors could simultaneously be very indulgent men. St Iosif's conception and plan, contains an inherent danger, which is not confined to its ordinary defects and modifications. There is a danger of excessive attention to society with a resultant reductionism or minimalism, perhaps not for oneself, but for society.

Iosif was an insatiable, if superficial, reader, and the Volokalamsk Monastery housed a rich library. One source relates that "he possessed all the divinely inspired books on the tip of his tongue." The fact that he largely acquired this wide, if uncritical, familiarity from compendiums and miscellanies rather than from complete collections of patristic writings is of less importance. Yet all of his reading still left Iosif, indifferent to culture. More precisely, culture provided him only with those things which serve the ideals of outward magnificence and splendor, yet Iosif would not accept culture's creative pathos. As a consequence, the Josephites could frequently produce enormous and magnificent cathedrals adorned with an inspired iconography, but still remain distrustful and indifferent to theology. It was precisely this indifference that prevented Iosif from transcending the narrow limits of his reading, or becoming anything but a mechanical reader. Actually, his Enlightener [Prosvetitel'] is almost completely reducible to a series of quotations and references. Even a reserved Kazan' publisher remarked that "one can hardly describe the book as an original work, or even in the strict sense a Russian work." Any originality it may possess finds expression only through the selection and arrangement of the works of others. Iosif's selection is quite daring, for he did not hesitate to include innovations, even western ones, if it was advantageous to do so.

This is not the place to dissect and determine what significance Josephite sermons and activities possessed for life and thought in the religious and political history of the sixteenth century. The important point is that their activities did not promote culture. Such populism (that is, "going to the people") invariably leads directly to cultural indifference, whatever the reason for it. The concept of social justice may easily be reduced to the level, of an equilibrium and status quo which mews creative pathos as a disruptive force.

The Josephites' theological inventory was neither negligible nor limited. The best Josephites demonstrated familiarity and erudition among primary sources on doctrine, the Scriptures, and the writings of the Fathers. Iosif, and to a greater extent Metropolitan Daniil[90] freely manipulated quite varied theological materials. One cannot speak of the poverty of their data. Nevertheless, the question of creativity remains, and these references do not gainsay the fact that the Josephites read only superficially. Yet in an important sense their opponents, too, suffered from the same defect. Like the Enlightener St. Nil's[91] The Tradition to the Disciples [Predanie uchenikam] is designed more as a collection or "link" than as an original discourse.

Somewhat later, the Josephite Metropolitan Makarii[92] conceived of and brought to fruition a plan to gather together all books available in Russia. One of Makarii's collaborators calls him a "Second Philadelphia." He succeeded in choosing literary assistants who could build from his blueprint. The presbyter Andrei (subsequently Metropolitan Afanasii), the compiler of the Book of Degrees [Stepennaia kniga][93] belonged to the "Makarii circle." Other members of the group included the presbyter Agafon, author of the famous Creation Cycle [Mirotvornyi krug]; Savva, later Bishop of Krutitsk, who assisted the work of compiling the lives of the saints; Ermolai-Erazm, the author of many interesting works, such as his Books on the Holy Trinity [Knigi o sv. Troitse] written in the spirit of mystical symbolism. Gerasimov, a holdover from an earlier day, also belonged to the group. However, the Josephites always compiled or systematized writings, they never created or shaped them.

The Josephites cannot be portrayed as traditionalists. They hardly valued Byzantine tradition, while their own national tradition was of relatively recent origin and relatively marginal importance. The Transvolgan Elders, the opponents of the Josephites, grasped the past much more firmly the Josephites are more readily recognizable as innovators. Their iconography makes this obvious. In particular the victory of the Josephites meant the interruption or restriction of Byzantine tradition.

Of course the Transvolgan movement cannot be described simply, as a preservation and continuation of Byzantine traditions (just as Byzantium cannot be reduced to the Transvolgan movement). 'The Transvolgans formed living and organic constitution (and not merely a reflection) of that spiritual and contemplative movement which seized the entire Greek and South Slavic world during the fourteenth century. This was a renaissance in contemplative monasticism. Fundamentally, the Transvolgan movement constituted a new experiment, a new discipline and a trial of this spirit. At the outset, Transvolgans largely sought silence and quiet. Consequently, their movement, signalled a decisive departure or escape from the world, a careful surmounting of all "love for the world." The skete, thus, became the model for their lives. Or else they chose the life of the solitary hermit. "Coenobitical" monasteries seemed too noisy and organized. "Non-possession," that is, to possess nothing in the world, forms their road leading away from the world. The Transvolgans' truth — the truth of contemplation and intellectual construction lies in their flight from the world. Yet one must immediately add that they not only tried to surmount worldly passions and "love for the world" they also sought to forget the world, and not just its vanity, but its needs and sicknesses. They not only rejected it, but denied it as well. For this reason, whereas the Josephites continued to work in the word, the Transvolgan movement had no historical impact.

Of course the Transvolgans did not utterly abandon the world. Their second generation became entangled in political struggles and intrigues (the "prince-monk" Vassian Patrikeev[94] provides a sufficient example). However, the Transvolgans did not approach or return to the world in order to build within it. Rather, they came to argue and fight against secularization of ecclesiastical life and to advertise and insist upon monastic withdrawal from the world. Such was the meaning of their memorable quarrel with the Josephites over Church properties. The Transvolgan's refusal to take direct religious and social action served as a peculiar social coefficient to their movement.

The Transvolgan Elders built an incomparable school for spiritual vigil, which provided a spiritual and moral, preparation for theology. While in the strict sense only with difficulty can one speak of Transvolgan theology, the movement itself signified an awakening of theological consciousness. An intellectual thirst is revealed in the depths of their spiritual concentration. St. Nil of the Sora was a "silent one" [bezmolvnik]. He had no need to speak or teach. Although not a thinker, writer, or theologian, Nil appears in history precisely as an "elder" [starets] or teacher. He was a teacher of silence an instructor and guide for "mental construction" in the spiritual life.

Upon comparison with the wider contemplative tradition of Greece and Byzantium or after comparison with the Philokalia [Dobrotoliubie],[95] one discovers nothing new in St. Nil. Usually one cannot easily distinguish or separate his personal views and thoughts from the uninterrupted stream of excerpts and citations in his writing. Perhaps St. Nil's moral themes and, to a lesser extent, his definitely formed outlook provide his most distinguishing traits. However, if Nil expresses little that is his "own" which is distinguishable from generally accepted spiritual tradition, then at least he expresses it independently. He lives in the patristic tradition. That tradition lives and is alive in him. Only through a complete misunderstanding could historians Russian literature frequently find the beginnings of rationalistic criticism and the collapse of ecclesiastical tradition in St. Nil of the Sora. Such surprising speculations are constructed only in total ignorance of that tradition.

Nil of the Sora came from and remained confined to the ascetical and contemplative tradition of the ancient and Byzantine Church. One should remember that the "freedom" which St. Nil always demands also requires a simultaneous severance of "self-will." If the Transvolgans remained indifferent to formal discipline and obedience nonetheless obedience serves as their fundamental ascetical commandment and task. "Bind yourself with the law of the divine writings and observe it" is St. Nil's point of departure, with the stipulation that "the true and divine writings" not be interpreted either in the, sense of "critical" tradition or as a confinement of the corpus of "scripture" within the limits of "Holy Scripture." On the contrary, in this instance Nil meant the "divine" writings of ascetical literature. In doing so, St. Nil laid particular stress on the ascetical guidance, experience, and advice of "wise and spiritual men." Orest Miller once described the Transvolgans as a "spiritual militia." 'Their movement did amount to a kind of spiritual recruitment, but according to a very high and sensitive standard. The lives of the Transvolgan monks and saints provide a clear and moving demonstration of how their teachings were applied and transformed in life and deeds. Their inward disposition was of chief importance.

The following contrast sums up the disagreements between the Josephites and the Transvolgans: the former sought to conquer the world by means of social labor within it; the latter attempted to overcome the world through transfiguration and through the formation of a new man, by creating a new human personality. The second points the way to creative cultural growth.

The affair of Maxim the Greek provides the most celebrated and instructive episode in the history of the Josephite-Transvolgan struggle. True, in reality political motives largely determined his conviction and condemnation. Acting on his own dreams (and perhaps on direct commission), Maxim took part in political maneuvers to obtain Russian aid against the Turks. His efforts coincided with Moscow's exertions to achieve an eternal peace and alliance with those same Turks. Moreover, Maxim inveighed too greatly against autocephaly for the Russian Church.

Maxim's fate contains an inherent contradiction. As a Greek expert, he was summoned to Moscow to correct translations. Yet only with considerable difficulty could his expertise be used for that purpose. Maxim knew no Russian when he first arrived, while no one who knew Greek could be found in Moscow. This seems almost incredible. However, Maxim was able to translate from Greek into Latin. Other translators then recast the Latin into Russian: "He writes in Latin, and with a copyist we write in Russian."

Maxim's personality is of general interest. He was not only an Athonite monk, but also a man of humanist education. "If Maxim had remained in Italy and taken a position in one of the Italian cathedrals, then we are convinced that among all of the outstanding (Greek scholars and professors then residing in Italy, he would have occupied the most important position," wrote Golubinskii. Maxim studied in Venice, Padua, and Florence. "He was unable to obtain philosophical training in Greece because of the poverty of books" Savonarola[96] produced a strong impression on him, and later in Moscow Maxim sympathetically described the Carthusian monks.[97] Although not a humanist in the western sense of that word, Maxim may be called a Byzantine humanist. In any case, he was a man of genuine literary culture. Acquaintance with his Greek manuscripts shows that he wrote in the original and erudite literary language close to that of the Bible. He did not write in the vernacular. He himself stressed "Athenian Eloquence" [dobroglagolaniia kekropidskago]. He brought an Aldus Manutius[98] edition of the Bible with him from Venice, where he had often visited Manutius about bookprinting. While there, he met the famous Janus Lascaris.[99] Maxim totally and characteristically rejected western scholasticism. He openly admired Plato and "the formal philosophers of the supreme," while "Aristotelian artistry" remained for him a synonym for heresy. Concerning scholasticism, he makes the following remark: "No dogma, human or divine, can firmly be considered reliable among them [scholastics], if Aristotelian syllogisms do not affirm that dogma and if it does not respond to artistic demonstration." Maxim's religious style was also typically Byzantine.

In Moscow he primarily busied himself (or rather was busied) with translations. In addition he argued a good deal, particularly against the "gift of stargazing," and generally against Latin propaganda, Hagarene impiety, the Judaizers, or even the Armenian heresy. Maxim also devoted himself to themes on the prevailing morality. Only a small group of students formed around Maxim, but he produced a great and powerful impression. His miserable fate and incarceration merely gave new grounds to respect his patient suffering. Thus, he was soon canonized, in 1591, during the reign of Fedor I Ivanovich (1584-98).[100] This was a belated but unambiguous rejoinder to those "sly monks called Josephites," who censured St. Maxim for heresy and independent thinking during his lifetime.

Maxim's condition symbolizes and testifies to the break in the Byzantine succession and marks the renunciation of creative continuity. The differences between Maxim and his Russian accusers can be summarized single formula. For a "Josephite," the "Third Rome" meant that great and newly constructed Christian kingdom Muscovy. By contrast, for Maxim, the "Third Rome" signified a City wandering in the wilderness.

Journeying along a wild road filled with many dangers, I came upon a woman kneeling with her regal head held in her hands, moaning bitterly and weeping inconsolably. She was dressed entirely in black, as is the custom for widows. Around her were wild animals: lions, bears, wolves, and foxes . . . . . "Basileia [Empire] is my name" . . .. "Why do you sit alongside this road surrounded as it is by wild animals?" And again she answered me: "O traveler, let this road be the last one in an accursed age" . . ..

Metropolitan Makarii and the Council of a Hundred Chapters.

R. Wipper, in his popular biography of Ivan the Terrible, cleverly compared the age of Metropolitan Makarii with that of the "Catholic Reformation."[101] The Council of a Hundred Chapters (Stoglav) thus became a Russian Council of Trent. The comparison contains an undoubted truth, for during the era of Metropolitan Makarii in Moscow, there appeared an urge and endeavor to "construct culture as a system." This was an age of compilations. Makarii's followers compiled the past; that is, they systematized Russia's national history. No renewed attention was given to the Greek example. "In the sixteenth century, the Old Russian source replaced the Greek one," as Istrin rightly noted. Yet one must immediately recognize the peculiar fact that the work of compilation began in Novgorod. Should not this effort be connected with the labors of Archbishop Gennadii? In one sense, this sixteenth century "compiling" meant that strengthened Novgorodian habits, customs, and traditions were given a general extension. Tsar Ivan IV did not accidentally cite Novgorodian precedents and examples more often than any others in his speech and questions at the Council of a Hundred Chapters.

The Council's attempt to generalize the Novgorodian example went hand in hand with the western (particularly German) influenced undertaking of Makarii and Sylvester. The exact nature of the mutual relationship between the Select Council [Izbrannaia rada] and the metropolitan is not clear. Politically Sylvester and Makarii were different minds, but on cultural questions they came from the same mold. Breaking with the Greeks (the question of the Greek exam was entirely ignored at the Council of a Hundred Chapters) and submitting to local custom constitute the cultural and religio-psychological achievement of the sixteenth century. Custom, or the ideal of "society," emerged victorious. The average mid-sixteenth century Muscovite's spiritual household no longer had room for the contemplative life.[102] Contemplative mysticism and asceticism-the best and most valuable part of Byzantine tradition-played no role in the conservative Muscovite synthesis. This synthesis, at once selective and tendentious, amounted less to a compilation than to an assortment defined by an overarching idea or will. However, the Athonite translation of the Areopagitica did pass into Makarii's Great Reading Compendium or Menelogos [velikie chet' i minei] and generally enjoyed an unexpectedly wide circulation and popularity. (Ivan the Terrible greatly admired the Areopagitica). One need not discuss the details of Makarii's Great Reading Compendium, which had as its design to gather into one collection "all the sacred books available in Russia." The most important point is that Makarii not only collected the lives of saints, but he also reworked them and adjusted them in relation to each other in order to achieve a codified and systematic model of piety.

Metropolitan Makarii's literary and encyclopedic enterprises did not end with the Great Reading Compendium. His grandiose Biblical codex, which combined Biblical stories with the Palaea[103] and the Chronograph[104] [Khronograf] is no less characteristic and significant. In particular, the Pentateuch is given a free paraphrase. Curiously, this Biblical text generally does not conform to the Gennadii Bible. The codex, profusely illustrated with miniatures, still remains insufficiently studied, but it does disclose a particular cultural and historical purpose. The miniatures provide incontestable testimony and proof about the increasing strength of western influence. Generally speaking, the influence of German engravings is very noticeable in the Muscovite and Novgorodian manuscripts of the sixteenth century (the characteristic vine ornamentation taken from later German Gothic, for example). Moreover, German (perhaps Danish) influence via Novgorod is linked with the first book printing in Moscow. The Triumphal Book [Torzhestvennaia kniga] also deserves mention, for it was composed on the instructions of Metropolitan Makarii as a supplement and parallel to the Great Reading Compendium. It was compiled largely under South Slavic influence. The Book of Degrees [Stepennaia kniga] should also at least be mentioned here.

But most importantly, something must be said about the Council of a Hundred Chapters,[105] one of the most difficult and complex problems in the history of Old Russian life and law. The chief difficulty lies in the notable lack of correspondence and the obvious disjunction in the protocols of the Council between the questions asked and the answers given. The questions were posed by Tsar Ivan IV, that is, by the advisers in the Select Council surrounding him at the time. The questions are generally liberal, or in any case, reformist. They contain very many severe accusations. At the same time, there is a clear effort to achieve uniformity. The "waverings" about which Tsar Ivan complains signify precisely the varied expression of regional customs. Yet the questioners do not indicate whom they are asking or who should reply. Those giving the answers display their dissatisfaction on the point through their tenacious and stubborn insistence on past custom. Even Metropolitan Makarii hardly cared for real reform.

The Council of a Hundred Chapters, conceived of as a "reformational" council, was realized as a "reactionary" one. However, this mid-century council did express something new: the will to construct and fortify a definite order. Such a plan is embodied in that most typical monument of the age, the Ordering of the House [Domostroi]. Sometimes viewed as a picture of actual daily life or as an illustration taken from nature (a view totally unjustified), the Ordering of the House actually more closely approximated a party program or project, an exemplary and idealized plan, or a variety of utopia. The book is didactic not descriptive. It sketches out a theoretical ideal, but it does not depict daily reality. In fact, many elements of undoubted Russian tradition are rejected and condemned. The, trial of Matvei Bashkin[106] provides a perfect illustration of such rejection. A series of prominent Transvolgans were summoned to his trial, not as witnesses or as men of similar views, but for the purpose of condemning them. Artemii,[107] the recent abbot of the Holy Trinity-St. Sergei Monastery, and Feodorit, the "Enlightener of the Lapps,"[108] were similarly condemned. For the historian, the individual charges in these cases are not so crucial. Undoubtedly actual freethinkers were concealed in Transvolgan sketes, and undoubtedly they went too far with their "doubts." Feodosii Kosoi[109] certainly did. Much more instructive is the desire on the part of the judges to generalize their results and findings and to give those findings a wide currency.

The affair of Ivan Viskovatyi, the prominent and influential chancellor of the Foreign Office, is especially instructive and characteristic. Viskovatyi had the temerity to openly criticize the innovations introduced by Metropolitan Makarii and Sylvester. The controversy centered on innovations in iconography. Viskovatyi was offended by the new icons painted by Novgorod and Pskov iconographers in accordance with a directive from the priest Sylvester during the cathedral's renovation after the fire of 1547. The new wall paintings done in the Golden Chamber, which was at that time under construction, also agitated Viskovatyi. It was Viskovatyi, however, who was condemned for innovation. Although a council charged him with heresy and disorderliness, it did not give any satisfactory answer to his questions and bewilderments.

The significance of the debate about icons reaches wider and deeper than is usually believed. Viskovatyi should not be portrayed as a blind defender of a dying past or as one who denied the admissibility of any creative renovation of iconography. Viskovatyi's "doubts" disclose a very profound and penetrating religious understanding.

Russian iconography reached a watershed in the sixteenth century. Novgorod and Pskov reached it first, and from there a new current spread to Moscow. It is easy to determine the importance of this new departure or movement in iconography: it constituted a break with hieratic realism and its replacement by decorative symbolism or, more accurately, allegory. The break found formal expression in the influx of new themes and new "theological-didactic" compositions, as Buslaev[110] so aptly described them. The decisive dominance of "symbolism" signified the decline of iconography. The icon became too "literary." The idea rather than the face came to be depicted, and even the religious idea too frequently became dimmed, lost, or dissolved in artistic ingenuity and embellishment. Frequently icons of that period were simply converted into illustrations of literary texts, sometimes Biblical ones, sometimes of a worldly and apocryphal nature. Occasionally, a miniature is even transcribed over a book cover. Various influences combined to form this literary and illustrated symbolism. A considerable influence derives from the Slavic south as a last wave of the Byzantine Renaissance. But the influence of western engraving forms its exterior.

Viskovatyi correctly sensed and diagnosed this development in iconography. "I beheld that the icons in the human form of Jesus Christ Our Lord were taken down. And those which they put there are such as I have never seen and are of many terrors. I was in fear of contamination and every sort of cunning." It was not innovations, as such, which troubled Viskovatyi. What disturbed him was the idea underlying them. He perceived that idea as a retreat to the Old Testament, a move away from the "truths" of the Gospels toward prophetic "types" or "shadows." He took as his point of departure the eighty-second canon of the Council in Trullo (691-92): "one must portray in human form."[111] Viskovatyi recalled that "it is not seemly to venerate images more than truth." Therefore, Metropolitan Makarii's reply that it is permissible to paint the image of Christ in the form of an angel "according to Isaiah's prophecy," or that the two crimson wings can be depicted "according to the writings of the Great Dionysius" could not soothe Viskovatyi. Such a reply was untimely. For Viskovatyi's "doubts" centered precisely on the point that one should not paint according to prophecies which have already occurred or come to pass, but according to the Gospels, that is, in the fullness of the historical Incarnation. "Let the glory of Our Lord Jesus Christ's human form not be diminished." Viskovatyi did not defend the past, he defended "truth," that is, iconographic realism. His quarrel with Metropolitan Makarii was a clash of two religious and esthetic orientations: traditional hieratic realism as opposed to a symbolism nourished by a heightened religious imagination. It was also an encounter between a strengthened western influence and Byzantine tradition. Paradoxically, this "westernism" achieved victory under the guise of "antiquity" and "compilation."

This paradoxical element is quite evident in the make-up of Ivan the Terrible. "He was an orator of natural eloquence in written wisdom and clever in thoughts," one contemporary says of him. Ivan IV was not merely a tolerable man of letters or a superficial reader. He possessed a genuine gift for writing. He wrote with verve and expression, although he abused his citations and quotations. He compiled such quotations into "whole books, paramias [readings from the Old Testament] and epistles," in the sarcastic words of Kurbskii. "A man of wonderful understanding in the science of book learning and very eloquent," writes a later chronicler. "There is grace in his words, and force in his dialects," writes Karamzin. Ivan the Terrible undoubtedly possessed an inquiring religious mind and a fully conceived religious outlook, although it was of a somber, heavy, and lacerating sort from which he suffered and suffered too greatly. Yet Ivan IV did not only face toward the past. Men of western faith always attracted him, even if he would descend upon them with furious accusations and threats. His famous quarrel with Jan Rokyta, the "minister of the Czech [Bohemian] Brethren,"[113] is a sufficient illustration. Nor is it accidental that an enormous influx of "west Europeans" into Muscovy begins precisely during his reign. Ivan flung his preference for the West and for westerners in the face of his contemporaries. Somewhat later, the famous official Ivan Timofeev recalled with a sigh: "Alas, everything within him was in the hands of barbarians." By "barbarians" he meant foreigners. Not only politically but culturally, Ivan IV gravitated to the West and not to Byzantium. He recognized no historical dependence on the Greeks, nor did he wish to make such an acknowledgment. "Our faith is Christian, not Greek," he replied to Possevino.[114]

Among the writers of the sixteenth century, Zinovii Otenskii occupies a unique position. Zinovii was the author of a quite remarkable book The Evidence of Truth, for Those Who Inquire about the New Teaching [Istiny pokazanie, k voprosivshim o novom uchenii], composed in answer to the confusions arising from Feodosii Kosoi's propaganda. Zinovii writes with great liveliness and with a genuinely literary temperament, although his style is rather ponderous and his thought is not always sufficiently disciplined. One senses a great erudition in him. He not only cites evidence, but he weighs it. This is a new trait supplied by Zinovii. His chief argument is always based on a theological reasoning linked with the use of Biblical texts, which are not wrenched out of context.

Zinovii's stance in the prevailing polemics and divisions is not easy to define. He was close to Maxim the Greek. Tradition describes him as "a disciple of the saintly elder." The spirit of Novgorodian independence is powerfully present in him. He judges and criticizes contemporary life with a great decisiveness and conviction, which echoes Maxim the Greek. However, Zinovii disagreed with Maxim and with the entire Transvolgan tradition on one very important point: he was not a non-possessor, and he defended monastic properties, sometimes with irony, but with almost Josephite-like arguments against the "prince-monk." From the Transvolgan movement Zinovii primarily acquired a spirit of theological deliberation, a refreshing experience in spiritual life, and a general religious and moral tension in relation to life around him. In this respect he stood apart from his age. Therefore, most likely Zinovii's book on heretics remained unknown. Only Nikon makes any reference to it.

The spirit of stagnation and torpor in Moscow congealed and hardened precisely during this age of troubled conflict and recrimination.

Heresy in Moscow is borne between fools who deceitfully babble as follows: it is not necessary to study overly much the speech of books, for men lose themselves in books, that is to say, they lose their minds and thereby fall into heresy.

True, this was written by Prince Kurbskii, and it does not follow that one should generalize on this characterization. However, such an attitude remained dominant and victorious until the end of the century. On the very eve of the Time of Troubles, during the reign of Tsar Fedor, decisive ecclesiastico-political deductions were made from the "Third Rome Theory," which by that time had become fully transformed from an apocalyptical premonition into an official state ideology. The Moscow patriarchate was established more as evidence for the independence and preeminence of the Russian tsardom than for the independence of the Russian Church (see, for example, the establishment charter). Establishment of the patriarchate was primarily a political act which reverberated in the very depths of the national spirit. It marked the final rejection of Byzantium.

 

2. Encounter With the West.

Orthodoxy in West Russia.

The sixteenth century constitutes a tragic and troubled period in the life of West Russia. It was a time of political conflict and social unrest, and also a time of religious strife, bitter theological controversies, and factionalism. The political merger of Lithuania and Poland consummated in the Union of Lublin (1569) 1 created a new situation for the Orthodox minority under their control. Could this minority maintain its identity and continue its own cultural traditions under the new conditions? The problem was both national and religious. Poland was spiritually a Roman Catholic country, but its East Slavic citizens belonged to the Byzantine sphere. Even before West Russia became a part of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania 2 and the Kingdom of Poland, its Orthodox population had been torn by the pull between Byzantium and Rome. Since 1299, when the metropolitan see "of all Russia" was transferred from Kiev to the north (and subsequently to Moscow), this region had known a constant drive for ecclesiastical autonomy. The motive was mainly political, especially after the annexation by Poland and Lithuania: a non-resident metropolitan, it was feared, might be open to the influence of an alien power. The Patriarchate of Constantinople preferred a single, undivided metropolia, and the epithet "of all Russia" was rigorously maintained in the title of the metropolitan of Moscow. True, departures from this principle were occasionally made, such as the appointment of a special metropolitan for Galicia 3 and later one for Lithuania. However, these "autonomies" never lasted long. An inclination in favor of the Roman West often accompanied this urge for ecclesiastical autonomy in West Russia. It is hardly a coincidence that shortly after his appointment, Gregory Tsamblak, 4, the first metropolitan of Lithuania should attend the Council of, Constance (1417-1418). 5 Apparently he did so at the request of the Lithuanian princes who at that very time were negotiating with the pope for an ecclesiastical union. Certainly the eventual separation of the Orthodox Church in Lithuania from the Moscow metropolia was accomplished under circumstances peculiarly related to Rome. Isidore, who was appointed metropolitan of all Russia to the Council of Florence, turned out to be one of the strongest partisans of the "Unia" during the council's sessions. Shortly after award, the pope raised him to the rank of cardinal. When Isidore returned to his see, Moscow disavowed and rejected him, but he found acceptance in Lithuania. Unable to remain in Moscow, he retired to Rome. But the story does not end there. In 1457, the Uniate patriarch of Constantinople in exile, Gregory Mammas, 8 together with the synod of Greek bishops residing in Rome, appointed a certain Gregory as metropolitan of Kiev and Lithuania and totius Russiae inferioris, obviously with the hope that in the course of time Gregory would extend his jurisdiction to "all Russia." This Gregory was a former abbot of the St. Demetrius monastery in Constantinople and an associate of Isidore. Oddly enough, the appointment did not introduce the Florentine Union into Lithuania. Instead, Gregory seems to have sought recognition from the Orthodox patriarch in Constantinople. Wishing to preserve both connections, his successors did the same. This created an ambiguous situation. 9 The papacy distrusted this kind of divided allegiance. Early in the sixteenth century the links with Rome were broken, and henceforth the Orthodox Church in Lithuania continued in obedience to the ecumenical patriarchate alone.

The major problem, however, had not been solved. The concept of a pluralistic society was still unknown and unwelcome, and the right to religious freedom was rarely recognized and often even strongly contested. The state for the most part was "confessional, with religious non-conformity" or "religious dissent" regarded as a threat to political and national unity. Certainly this was a fundamental an inescapable issue in the United Kingdom of Poland and Lithuania: the "East Slav problem" was at one and the same time a Polish-Lithuanian problem, for it involved the integrity of the realm. Could the "Orthodox minority" remain an independent cultural unit without endangering the common cultural bond? Could "two Churches" (and that intrinsically meant "two cultures") peacefully co-exist in a single realm? Could the "Orthodox minority" be truly integrated into corporate life of the land without some agreement or at least compromise with Rome? Could the Byzantine tradition be safely allowed in a country more and more attuned to western ways of life? Here lay the crux of the problem of the "Unia." Union with Rome was inseparable from the wider problem of civil unity within the Polish-Lithuanian kingdom. In the context of the sixteenth century it was a sociological and cultural problem more than a theological one.

The rapid growth of the vast and impressive Orthodox State of Muscovy aggravated the whole situation. The Orthodox faithful in the Polish-Lithuanian kingdom could hardly fail to turn to Muscovy in times of trouble and distress. The rise and expansion of the Reformation into Lithuania and Poland proper as well as into its West Russian provinces further complicated the picture. Lutheranism did not make much headway, but Calvinism spread swiftly and triumphantly, especially in Lithuania, where it won the open support of local magnates and, at least initially, met no effective countermeasures from the Roman Catholic hierarchy. The Czech [Bohemian] Brethren, 10 exiled from their own country, also took refuge in Poland and for a time assumed a prominent role in the general "evangelical" movement. Even more conspicuous was the growth of the "New Arians," as the Antitrinitarians were commonly labeled. 11 For a while Poland served as one of the centers of the movement on the European continent.

In general the country became a shelter for all kinds of religious exiles persecuted and prosecuted in their own lands. Poland was ironically described as a "paradisus haereticomus." Radical trends were especially dominant in the reign of Sigismund II Augustus (1548-1572). 12 The situation changed under the subsequent rulers Stephen Batory (1576-1586) 13 and especially Sigismund III of the Swedish house of Vasa (1587-1632), 14 justly called the "Jesuit king." The Roman Church finally regained control with the help of the Jesuit fathers, who were called in at the advice of the Nuncio Commendone 15 and Cardinal Stanislaus Hosius, bishop of Courland. 16 The Jesuits concentrated their efforts on education but they also succeeded in making their influence strongly felt at the Polish-Lithuanian court.

By the end of the sixteenth century, the kingdom of Poland and Lithuania was once again a Roman Catholic realm and a major stronghold of the Catholic faith in Europe. In this quickened environment the problem of "non-conformity" assumed a new urgency and gravity. The Orthodox of West Russia now found themselves between two opposing camps. For a time the greater threat of a Catholic domination brought them to the support of the Protestants in a common struggle for "religious freedom." Under the circumstances, religious freedom for the Orthodox also meant "national identity." But the alliance was more forced than voluntary, dictated as it was by politics rather than doctrine. Once their independence had been regained, incomplete as this may have been, the Orthodox ended the coalition. The achievement, however, was no simple one, and the struggle left a distinct and deep imprint.

The Orthodox Church in Poland and Lithuania was ill prepared for a militant encounter with the West. With sorrow and anguish contemporaries tell of "the great rudeness and ignorance" of the common people and the local clergy. The hierarchs were little better equipped to do battle. The Orthodox themselves deplored and exposed their low moral standards and worldliness. It was commonly complained that the bishops were more interested in politics, personal prestige, and privilege than in matters of faith or the spiritual needs of the people. A great Orthodox champion of that day, the Athonite monk Ivan Vishenskii, 17 acidly commented that "instead of theology they pursue the knaveries of men, lawyer's deceptions, and the devil's twaddle." They were, he went on, more interested in the "statutes" of the law than in the "canons" of the Church. True, Vishenskii's rhetoric is passionate, but it discloses the profound disappointment and loss of confidence that contemporaries felt in their hierarchs. Furthermore, the bishops were divided among themselves.

By the end of the sixteenth century, no longer able to withstand the external pressure, they capitulated en masse to Roman obedience. Their flocks, however, would not follow. In order for ecclesiastical union with Rome to be established, coercion and even persecution would be needed. This account, of course, can be differently construed: the bishops did not desert their flocks, rather the laity refused to obey their pastors. Whatever the case, the Orthodox community was rent and an unhappy tension divided the hierarchy from the people. The burden of the defense of Orthodoxy against an enforced union with Rome fell entirely on the shoulders of the laity and lower clergy. Their devout efforts and concerted action preserve the Orthodox faith, making the eventual canonical restoration of order possible. A major task, however, was yet to be accomplished. Orthodoxy urgently needed, and its integral preservation require a creative "reconstruction of belief," a restatement of the Orthodox faith. Such a "reconstruction" had to derive from a conscious confrontation with the West's dual challenge: Roman Catholicism and the Reformation. Could the Byzantine tradition be maintained strictly as it was, or must new forms be devised? Should Orthodoxy remain purely "eastern," or under the new conditions would it in some way have to be "westernized?" Such a task could not be accomplished in an instant. Obviously it was a program for many generations. In the process a new tension bordering on a break emerged among those who remained Orthodox. The result was an ambiguous "pseudomorphosis" of Orthodox thought, and to some extent also of Orthodox life. Even though these seventeenth century efforts by Orthodox theologians of West Russia may have ended in failure or compromise, the nobility and importance of their work cannot be obscured.

The significance of these various events can be comprehended only if set in a wider European perspective. Europe was then divided into two hostile camps, at once political blocs and confessional confederations: the Catholic league and the Evangelical alliance. The Orthodox minority in Poland and Lithuania could not escape entanglement in this larger power struggle. No political stand was possible apart from a confessional commitment, and each confessional choice carried with it a political connotation. The patriarch of Constantinople, too, was heavily involved in this political contest. Since he served both as head of a large church and as national leader of the "Christian nation" [Rum milleti] within the Ottoman Empire, he was a prominent political figure on the international scene. 18 Also of significance is the interest shown, and active part taken, in the fate of the West Russian Church by the other eastern patriarchs beginning in the last decades of the sixteenth century. However, the historical destiny of the Orthodox Church in Poland and Lithuania ultimately depended upon the outcome of the political struggle between Catholic and Protestant powers which was soon to erupt in the Thirty Years War (1618-1648). In this conflict Poland emerged as a strategic center. This explains the lively interest of the Moldavian princes in the ecclesiastical affairs of the West Russian Church and why a Wallachian prince was eventually named metropolitan of Kiev. 19 This act symbolized more than Orthodox solidarity; it also reflected a common political concern. Non-theological factors thus weighed heavily on the ecclesiastical and cultural situation of West Russia, where by the third quarter of the sixteenth century the Orthodox Church faced a severe challenge from the West, an existential challenge at once religious and cultural.

Artemii and Kurbskii.

The strength of the Protestant impact on Orthodox circles in Poland and Lithuania cannot be accurately assessed. It seems to have been considerable, especially in the middle decades of the sixteenth century. And its challenge had to be met. Significantly, the first Orthodox writers in these lands to respond were two fugitives from Moscow, the hegumen Artemii and the celebrated Prince Andrei Kurbskii.

Artemii, whose dates are uncertain, was at one time hegumen of the Trinity monastery. In 1554 a council in Moscow sentenced him for alleged heresies ("certain Lutheran schisms") to confinement in the Solovkii monastery, from which he subsequently escaped into Lithuania. The record of the trial proceedings does not show any heresy. It seems that the real reason for his condemnation was his ideological allegiance. Whereas the leaders of the council belonged to the dominant Josephite party, Artemii adhered to the Transvolgan tradition. Heretics, in his view, should be exhorted rather than persecuted.

Once in Lithuania, Artemii was drawn to the defense of Orthodoxy against the inroads of Protestants and Antitrinitarians. He settled on the estate of Iurii, Prince of Slutsk, where his contacts soon included those tempted or converted by Protestant preaching. For his labors there Artemii would earn the high praise of Zakharii Kopystenskii, 20 a distinguished Orthodox thinker of the next century, who speaks in his Book of Defense of the Holy Catholic Apostolic Ecumenical Church [Palinodiia] of "this blessed monk, who with the help of God, turned many in Lithuania away from the Arian and Lutheran heresies, and through whom God dispelled the danger that all Russian people there might be perverted into these heresies." 21 Artemii's approach to dissenters was as much pastoral as polemic. His writings are notable for their humane attitude towards opponents. He deals with them in the spirit of tolerance and true evangelical charity, virtues reminiscent of the Transvolgan elders, but rare in the polemical literature of Artemii's day.

A number of Artemii's epistles have been preserved. 22 They reveal the Orthodox point of view on the issues at stake. Of special interest are two missives to Szymon Budny, an influential Calvinist preacher who later went over to Socinianism and joined its most radical wing (the non adorantes). 23 In 1562 Budny published a treatise in the Vernacular, The Justification of a Sinner Before God [Opravdanie greshnago cheloveka pered Bogom], and his Catechism [Katekhizis]. 24 He also won renown for his Polish translation of the Bible, which appeared in 1572. Budny sent his books to Artemii. They prompted Artemii's epistles, which, though vigorously attacking Budny's heresies, sought to persuade and to convert. Artemii addressed Budny as "brother" on the grounds of their "common humanity," but he made no effort to conceal his detestation of "the evil faith of false reason" to which Budny was committed. Of necessity large parts of Artemii's letters were devoted to rites and external observances, since the Protestants rejected them. But his heart was else where. Christianity was for him first and foremost an inner reality, a spiritual discipline, "the Cross in action," i.e., an ascetic exploit, the way of silence [hesychia], and spiritual concentration. Artemii was rooted in the patristic heritage. His sources were traditional: St. Basil the Great, 25 St. Isaac of Nineveh (or "the Syrian," as he is usually called in the East), 26 also the Areopagite 27 and St. John of Damascus. 28 Like St. Nil of the Sora, 29 he contended that these sacred writings should be used not by rote but with discernment. It was Artemii who first called Kurbskii's attention to the patristic sources. 30

Prince Andrei Kurbskii (1528-1583) was a distinguished military leader and statesman. Although a refugee from his own country, he readily found a place among the local nobility of Volynia where he was granted honors and privileges. It is not clear how he acquired his wide erudition. But he emerges from his famous and vehement correspondence with Tsar Ivan IV and from his History of Ivan Iir [Istoriia o Velikom Kniaze Moskovskom] as a skillful writer, a powerful polemist, and a man of great intelligence. 31 In no sense was he only a spiteful and venomous pamphleteer bent upon voicing his passions and pleading the cause of the boyars against a tyrannical tsar. He was also a man of broad culture and an ardent supporter of the Orthodox tradition. In Moscow he had been close to the circle of Maxim the Greek 32 whom he acknowledged as his "most beloved, teacher" and whose biography he later compiled.

Disturbed by the growth of "foul heresies" in Poland, Kurbskii was no less dismayed by the negligence and indifference of the Orthodox community there: "we are inept and indolent in study and too proud to ask about that which we do not know." He sought to spread learning among the Orthodox. He urged them to return to the primary sources, to the very springs of faith and knowledge. Kurbskii had a special love for the great patristic tradition, and he voiced chagrin and irritation that the Orthodox people around him knew so little of the Fathers and scarcely read them. "Foreigners take delight in our teachers, whereas we, looking at our own, waste away with spiritual hunger." He was amazed that not all the patristic writings had been translated into Church Slavonic, and he expressed dissatisfaction with existing translations. Accordingly, he decided to translate anew.

It may appear strange that Kurbskii chose to translate the Greek Fathers from Latin texts, since for that purpose he had to learn Latin. 33 But many of the writings that interested him still remained to be published in the original, and to obtain and use all the Greek manuscripts was too difficult a task. Kurbskii himself worked from the Venetian translations. His library contained the complete works of Chrysostom, 34 St. Gregory of Nazianzus, 35 St. Cyril of Alexandria, 36 and St. John of Damascus, 37 as well as Nicephorus Callistus' Historia ecclesiastica. 38 Kurbskii had been impressed by a story told by Maxim about the zeal of Venetian scholars at work translating the Greek Fathers. 39 Apparently he also came to believe that after the catastrophe of Byzantium, those Greek manuscripts, which had been saved, were taken to Italy and stored in the libraries of Venice and Padua. 40

The fall of Constantinople was a true apocalyptic disaster for Kurbskii, a time when "Satan was loosed from his bonds." With Byzantium in the hands of the Infidel, he had to look to the West. Kurbskii had no sympathy for Rome, however. The Council of Florence had been, in his phrase, "a true tragedy, with evil and sad consequences." From his contacts on Mt. Athos he sought and obtained copies of the polemical writings of Cabasilas 41 and others directed against the Latins. Kurbskii's cultural horizon was typically Byzantine. Indeed, with his love of learning and penchant for study he can be properly described as a "Byzantine humanist." Patristic theology and the "wisdom of the Greeks" (i.e. Greek philosophy) were in his eyes an indivisible cultural whole. "Our ancient fathers were trained and adept, in both natural philosophy and the sacred Scriptures." Kurbskii consequently sought to combine study of the Fathers with that of the classical philosophers. Of the latter, he mainly read Aristotle (Physics and Ethics), probably under the influence of St. John of Damascus and Cicero, from whom he derived a Stoic conception of natural law. 42

Kurbskii drew up an ambitious program of translation: all the Fathers of the fourth century. As part of the project, he gathered around him for classical studies a band of young scholars, or baccalaurei as he styled them. And he sent a relative, Prince Mikhail Obolens to learn the higher sciences in Cracow and in Italy. It was not easy for Kurbskii to find enough people fluent in Latin who were also at home in literary Slavonic. He himself did not have complete command of Slavonic. But he was averse to translating the Fathers into the cruder colloquial. Indeed, it was probably at his suggestion that a member of the wealthy Mamonich family in Vilna 43 in 1581 published a Grammar of the Slavonic Language [Gramatika slovenskaia iazyka].

Only a small part of Kurbskii's translation project was ever accomplished. In addition to the sermons of Chrysostom, with which he began, Kurbskii managed to translate the basic works of St. John of Damascus, including the Dialectica and De fide orthodoxa and some of his lesser writings. 44 They already existed in part, but in an archaic translation of John, Exarch of Bulgaria 45 Kurbskii checked John's text against certain Greek and Latin editions, revised it, and added translations of the missing chapters. To Damascene's Dialectica he also appended an introduction On Logic, based on the Trivii Erotomata, published by Johann Spangenberg in 1552 and 1554 in Cracow 46 Apparently Kurbskii intended this work to be a textbook. In 1585 Kurbskii printed in Vilna a translation of John of Damascus' A Disputation between a Saracen and a Christian. But of the other Fathers, he succeeded in translating and publishing only a few sermons and homilies. 47 To advance his dispute with the Arians (his major preoccupation), Kurbskii also compiled, and where necessary translated, several exegetical anthologies: The Interpreted Acts and Epistles [Tolkovyi Apostol'], including a special selection of Patristic texts; An Abbreviated Interpreted Book of Prophets [Sokrashchenie tolkovykh prorochestv], which also contained Patristic commentary; 48 and an Interpreted Psalter [Tolkovaia psaltyr'] in which, in addition to the basic commentary taken from Theodoret of Cyrus 49 and from Pseudo-Athanasius, 50 he included a number of rich and apt choices from the other Fathers. In all of this work Kurbskii manifests a vital dogmatic interest and a sober and clear faith.

However modest Kurbskii's achievements were in comparison with the scale of his original plan, that he even conceived such a comprehensive scholarly program is of signal importance. The scheme itself reveals a clear conception of religious culture, grounded in the tradition of a Slavono-Hellenic culture. He opposed this to "Polish barbarism." This was no mere rhetorical phrase. The Polish language was at the time just coming into use for scholary purposes, and Polish literature was still in statu nascendi. In contrast, Church Slavonic literature had existed for centuries and had developed its own elaborate style and tradition. Kurbskii had reason to contend that an accurate translation into Polish from Greek or Slavonic, or even Latin, was impossible. The meaning might be rendered, but the style would be lost.

Far more than a scribe or a dry scholar, Kurbskii had a living feeling for his time. His aims have often been criticized as old-fashioned and out of date. In fact, they were prophetic. He strove for a creative renewal of the patristic tradition, a revitalization and continuation of the Byzantine heritage in the Slavic world. The future of Orthodoxy, he believed, depended upon its faithfulness to the tradition of the Fathers.

The Ostrog Circle and Bible.

Kurbskii was not alone in his literary and educational endeavors. In the second half of the sixteenth century a number of Orthodox printing centers were established in Lithuania and Poland, most by private hands: Ivan Fedorov 51 and Petr Mstislavets 52 at Zabludov, near Bialystok, on the estate of the Chodkiewicz family (1568 to 1570); 53 Fedorov in Lvov (1573-1579, revived in 1591); Mstislavets in Vilna (1574-1576, resurrected by the Mamonich family in 1582); Prince Konstantin Ostrozhskii 54 at Ostrog in Volynia (1580-1590). 55 The basic motive for these centers was apologetical; their chief aim was to combat Protestant, and especially Arian, propaganda. For this purpose it was deemed more important to publish primary sources than argumentative works. The result was a goodly flow of liturgical manuals, devotional books, religious pamphlets, and sermons.

The most important of these printing presses was at Ostrog where through the energies of Prince Ostrozhskii a center of learning and culture had sprouted. Among the "lovers of wisdom" who gathered there were Gerasim Smotritskii, the educator, 56 Ivan Fedorov, master printer, the priests Vasilii Surazkii, author of On a United Faith [O edinoi vere], 57 and Demian Nalivaiko (brother of the famous hetman), 58 and of special fame, Jan Liatos, mathematician and astronomer. 59 Of this community at Ostrog Zakharii Kopystenskii wrote in his Palinodiia: "Here were orators equal to Demosthenes. Here were doctors well-trained in Greek, Latin, and Slavonic. Here were outstanding mathematicians and astrologers." Though an obvious exaggeration, his words indicate the strong impression, which the Ostrog enterprise left on the subsequent generation. Nor can the profound devotion to learning within the Ostrog group be denied. They cherished the same vision of a vibrant Slavono-Hellenic culture, as did Kurbskii.

The school at Ostrog was modelled on the Graeco-Byzantine pattern. Often described as a "Greek school," it was in fact a "school of three languages" [trilingue lycaeum] and of the liberal arts." Non slavonicae duntaxat linguae, sed grecarum juxta atque latinarum artium erexit palaestram." 60 Prince Ostrozhskii planned to transform his school into a full-fledged academy and thus more firmly establish Ostrog as a Slavonic-Greek cultural center. 61 His dream never materialized; moreover, the school itself managed to survive for only a few years. The plan was unrealistic for the times. A critical shortage of qualified personnel existed almost everywhere. Competent teachers were all but impossible to find, especially for the instruction of Greek. In 1583 Ostrozhskii considered hiring several Greek Uniates from the Greek College of St. Athanasius in Rome, but without success. Later he looked to Greece itself. Cyril Lucaris, the future patriarch, taught at Ostrog in 1594 and 1595. 62 Ostrozhskii also tried to educate students abroad. An interpreter at the Council of Brest, Father Kiprian, seems to have been one of these students. He studied in Venice and Padua and then stayed for a while on Mt. Athos. Ostrozhskii's success in these various endeavors was modest. Probably his entire project was too ambitious for private enterprise. Even so, the renown which the school at Ostrog gained was justified, not so much for its achievements (although these were significant), as for its noble-spirited pioneering.

From the start the Ostrog community was deeply involved in the struggle with Roman propaganda and later with that of the Uniates. 63 The reform of the calendar introduced in 1582 by Pope Gregory XIII created great agitation 64 Open resistance was strong in a number of quarters, and in Poland that resistance included some Roman Catholics. Jan Liatos of Cracow attacked it violently. Expelled from the university, he moved to Ostrog where he lent encouragement and support to Orthodox groups opposing the new calendar. (Liatos continued his campaign as late as 1603, still in Ostrog). Another vigorous opponent of the reform was Gerasim Smotritskii, headmaster of the Ostrog school in the 1580's. A pamphlet he published in 1583 sharply denounced it. That same year the Church in Constantinople formally rejected the calendar reform and brought the dispute to an end for Orthodox peoples. In Poland and Lithuania, however, the controversy was kept alive for several more years by persistent attempts to enforce the use of the new calendar throughout the country.

Far more significant than the struggle against calendar reform, and indeed the most spectacular of all the undertakings of the Ostrog community, was the translation and printing of the great Ostrog Bible. With its publication in 1580 (reissued in 1581 with certain technical amendments), the full text of the Bible made its first appearance in Church Slavonic. The Ostrog Bible, as such, remains a landmark in Slavonic Biblical history. It abides also as a magnificent achievement in itself, a monument of scholarship, literature, and theology.

The Ostrog Bible was conceived as a polemic tool and intended for wide circulation. In the Preface, written by Gerasim Smotritskii, readers were strongly warned against those who, pretending their course could be sustained with Holy Writ, "most blasphemously dare to follow Arius in their teaching." National Bibles, of course, have been characteristic instruments of reformationists. The Polish and Czech Bibles and the Slovene Bible of Primoz Truber 65 are but a few examples. In the Russian West most Bible translation also stemmed from a Protestant milieu, specifically from Socinian and Antitrinitarian circles who based their labors on the Czech or, more often, the Polish version. Vasilii Tiapinskii 66 translated the Gospels in Belorussia from the 1572 version of Szymon Budny, while Valentin Negalevskii 67 made his edition in Volynia from the Polish Bible, which Marcin Czechowicz had published in Cracow in 1577. 68 Some of these vernacular editions are hardly more than paraphrases, with confessional bias plain in the wording of the text and, even more, in the glosses and explanatory notes. Certainly all of the translations of the Bible made in West Russia by Unitarians deviated considerably from the traditional text of the Orthodox East. This is even true of the famous Russo-Slavonic Bible of Georgii (Frantiszek) Skorina of Polotsk, printed in Prague in 1517-1520 (though never completed beyond the Old Testament). 69 Based mainly on the 1506 Bible of the Bohemian Utraquists (i.e., Calixtins), it was connected to the Hussite endeavor, if only indirectly. 70 In addition Skorina used the Latin Postillae perpetuae of Nicholas de Lyra. 71 Kurbskii was sharply critical of Skorina's translation. He lamented that it was taken "from the corrupted Jewish books" and pointed to the similarity of the Skorina edition with Luther's Bible. Probably he meant by this that both translations came from the Latin Vulgate, which in turn depended on the Hebrew text. The traditional Slavonic text, of course, was based on the Greek Septuagint.

The Ostrog Bible stemmed from a conscious and critical attempt to adhere to the Greek textual tradition. And the language of translation was to be traditional Church Slavonic, not any of the vernacular languages. The basic source for the Ostrog edition was the Gennadii Bible 72 (with some trouble obtained in a clear copy from Moscow through a Lithuanian diplomat). This text was carefully checked and revised, with many of its "Latinisms" expurgated in the process. On the initiative of Prince Ostrozhskii, new manuscripts were sought in the Slavic monasteries of Bulgaria and Serbia, in "Roman lands," and even as far away as Crete. He also appealed to the patriarch of Constantinople to send reliable and properly corrected manuscripts, as well as "people competent in the Holy Writings, Greek and Slavonic. It is clear from the Preface, however, that the editors of the Ostrog Bible were dismayed by the poor state of the manuscripts with which they worked. Too frequently the texts suffered from variations and corruptions. Still, for their time, the Ostrog scholars had rich and ample material at their disposal. They consulted the Massoretic text 73 and the Vulgate and took into consideration the new Czech and Polish versions. Then once again they checked their text against the Greek, using two printed editions: the Aldine Septuagint of 1518 (Venice) 74 and the great Complutensian Polyglot of Cardinal Ximenes, completed between 1514-1517, but not released until 1522. 75

With all its obvious imperfections, the Ostrog Bible offers a more accurate and reliable text than the famous Sixtus Clementine version of the Vulgate (1592). 76 Modern editions of the Slavonic Bible are still essentially based on the text of the Ostrog Bible. The task which confronted its translators and editors was enormous; their accomplishment noteworthy. It apparently took this competent team of scholars three to four years to complete the enterprise. Technical expertise was rendered by Ivan Fedorov, who already had a number of printing projects to his credit, including the introduction of the art of printing to Moscow. Probably more than anything else, the creative achievement of the Ostrog Bible testifies to the flowering of a cultural and theological renaissance among the Orthodox of West Russia toward the end of the sixteenth century. Of even greater significance, the advent of this Bible reflects a living and unbroken connection with the Byzantine tradition.

Konstantin Ostrozhskii.

Prince Konstantin Ostrozhskii (1526-1608), founder of the Ostrog community, and later the monk Vasilii, was a controversial figure. He was above all a politician and a diplomat, if not a statesman. His approach to religious problems was pragmatic and cultural, rather than theological. As a native of Lithuania, Ostrozhskii was more "westernized" than his friend Prince Kurbskii, who despite his virulent distaste for political and cultural trends in Moscow, and however much his scholarship relied on Latin texts and western publications, remained even in Polish exile an adamant Muscovite and ardent Graecophile. Of the two, Ostrozhskii's cultural horizons were probably the broader, but there was less coherence in his views. He was prone to adjustment and compromise, and his politics frequently vacillated. Without question a staunch defender of Orthodoxy, at the same time he played a role in preparing the way for the Unia, which gave cause to those who would brand him a sympathizer.

In a sense Prince Ostrozhskii can be regarded as the first East Slavic "ecumenist." He had a deep interest in the reconciliation of all Christian communions in Poland and Lithuania, if only to secure order in the realm. He pleaded with Christians to cooperate and to live in honest co-existence. Even his personal position was curiously involved. Though a firm adherent of the Orthodox Church, Ostrozhskii was married to a Roman Catholic and kept close family connections with Calvinists and Unitarians. His eldest son, Prince Janusz, was baptized according to the Catholic rite, and of his other children, only one remained Orthodox, but even he had a Roman Catholic wife. 77

The ecumenical interests of Ostrozhskii raised suspicion in several quarters. He was first of all accused of excessive sympathy for the Socinians, who themselves claimed that inwardly he shared their convictions: "quamvis religionem Unitariam, quam in corde amplectebatur no sit professus, Unitariorum tamen Fautor et Patronus fuerit." 78 It is true that Ostrozhskii admired their educational system and commitment to cultural values. And he did not hesitate to turn to them for help. On behalf of the Orthodox he commissioned the Socinian Motovila 79 to write a refutation of the famous book of Peter Skarga, On the Unity of the Church of God under One Pastor [O iedosci kosciola Bozego pod iednym pasterzem y o Greckim od tey iednosci odstapieniu, z prezest oroga y upominaniem do narodow ruskich przy Grekach stojacych, Vilna, 1577] 80 with which the Jesuits launched their literary campaign to win the Orthodox in Poland to union with Rome. 81 Kurbskii was incensed with Ostrozhskii's act. Motovila was to him "a deputy of the Antichrist" and a follower of the impious Arius, 82 Photinus, 83 and Paul of Samosata. 84 "Christian leaders have gone to such extremes of insolence and foolishness," he decried, "that not only do they shamelessly harbor and nurture these poisonous dragons in their homes, but they employ them as defenders and assistants. And what is even more astonishing, they summon them to guard the spiritual Church of God against satanic spirits and commission them to write books against the half-Christian Latins." Probably Kurbskii's intransigence was shared by only a few, with many more grateful to Ostrozhskii for also enlisting "heretics" in the Orthodox cause. To hesitate or to linger out of scruple was too high a risk in this struggle.

Ostrozhskii's "ecumenical" overtures were not limited to Protestants; they reached to Roman Catholics as well. On a number of occasions he conferred with the famous Jesuit missionary Antonio Possevino, 85 as he did with the Papal Nuncio Bolognetti. 86 Both reported to Rome that he was about to be converted. Ostrozhskii brought along to these deliberations a number of laymen and clergy and when the matter of Church unity came up even the king, Stephen Batory, was included. It was at this time also that Ostrozhskii considered obtaining Greek Uniates from St. Athanasius College in Rome to teach at Ostrog, even though according to his plan the Ostrog school was to remain a stronghold of strict Orthodoxy. Later he persuaded Adam Pociej (Potiy), 87 future Uniate metropolitan and the real architect of the Uniate Church in Poland, to take holy orders, and then, even though Pociej's Roman leanings were no secret, sponsored his promotion to the episcopate.

Ostrozhskii actually had his own scheme for reunion with Rome and was prepared to go to Rome to confer with the Pope. But when union finally came, Ostrozhskii did not follow, and at the Council of Brest convened in 1596 to promulgate reunion, he led the forces of opposition which disrupted the proceedings. For years there after he was recognized as a leader of the Orthodox resistance movement which sprang up in the western lands. Ostrozhskii was not inconsistent in these acts. His vision of unity was quite different from that negotiated at the Unia. Everything there had been accomplished by the local bishops acting clandestinely and alone. This directly countered Ostrozhskii's plan for a thorough and common discussion of all the issues involved and prior consent from the Churches of Moscow and Moldavia. When in the aftermath of the Council, the Orthodox Church was outlawed in both Poland and Lithuania, Ostrozhskii mounted a fervent campaign to get the decision rescinded. Basing his struggle on the right and necessity of "religious freedom," he once again found himself drawn toward the Protestants, who for some time had suffered discrimination under the law and whose threat to Orthodoxy was now eclipsed by Roman Catholicism.

Before long the Orthodox and the Protestants sought to join forces in their common struggle for religious freedom. The only hope for success lay in concerted action. Having confederated their own forces in 1570 through the Sandomierz Confession [Confessio Sandomiriensis], 88 the Protestants in 1595 at the end of the Synod of Toruri took up the issue of closer cooperation with the Orthodox. Ostrozhskii, in a letter, warned this body that a Roman-Orthodox union was in preparation and proclaimed his own solidarity with the Protestants. He declared that, in his opinion, the Orthodox were distant from the Romans but close to the Evangelicals (i.e., Calvinists). 89 In 1599 a joint conference met in Vilna, with the Orthodox represented by a small group led by Ostrozhskii. 90 The immediate order of business was to formulate a common policy in the struggle for religious freedom. But once the two groups were together, the idea of unity readily arose. To this the clerical members on the Orthodox side proved reticent and evasive, if not openly hostile. Chief spokesman for union in the Protestant delegation was Simon Theophil Turnovskii, president of the Czech [Bohemian] Brethren in Poland. 91 He argued that under certain conditions Protestants and Orthodox could unite, and cited the negotiations held in 1451-1452 between the Calixtins of Prague and the Church of Constantinople, which ended in agreement. 92

Following the Vilna conference, certain Protestants drafted a memorandum, which prominently listed points of agreement between Evangelicals and Orthodox and placed items requiring further discussion in an appendix. This was forwarded to Constantinople. Although the Orthodox did not share in this action, Ostrozhskii seems to have sympathized with it. Meletius Pigas, patriarch of Alexandria and locum tenens of the ecumenical throne, acknowledged receipt of the missive, 93 but, reluctant to interfere in Polish affairs, he kept his reply evasive and noncommittal. Meletius did authorize his exarch, Cyril Lucaris, then residing in Poland, to discuss the proposal at local levels. Apparently nothing was done. All in all, it was utopian to expect that an Orthodox-Evangelical union could be formed to counter the Brest Union. Still, the whole episode was of sober significance for the future. During the negotiations between the Protestants and the Orthodox, the question of union was posed in terms, which defined "unity of faith" as common opposition to the Latin faith. As a consequence the Orthodox found themselves in a position where their own standpoint had to be worked out within the frame of the western tension: Rome or Reformation.

Although the plan of doctrinal agreement put forward at Vilna received no further development, Orthodox-Protestant cooperation continued. Orthodox polemists made extensive use of Western anti-Roman literature, especially on the question of papal supremacy, where they regularly utilized arguments advanced at the great Reformation councils of Basel and Constance. 94 Quite popular was De republica ecclesiastica, the famed book of Marco Antonio de Dominis (1566-1624), one time Roman Archbishop of Spalatro, who left the Church of Rome and then for a period held a position in the Church of England. In translation, his book was widely circulated in manuscript form among Slavs of West Russia. 95 But perhaps more typical of the polemical literature adopted by Orthodox writers at this time was the Apokrisis, published in 1597 under the name of Christopher Filalet (Philalethes). It was intended as a reply to Skarga's book on the Council of Brest. Claiming that his book was a translation, which probably fooled only a few, the author disguised himself (in a manner frequent among Socinians who came to the defense of Orthodoxy) behind a Greek literary pseudonym, even though it seems his identity was known to many contemporaries. Current scholarship has established, though not with final certainty, that he was neither an East Slav nor an Orthodox, but the Calvinist Martin Broriski, a Polish diplomat who for a while served as Stephen Batory's secretary. 96 He was also an active participant in the meetings between Evangelicals and Orthodox and a close friend of the Ostrozhskii family. 97 If indeed Broriski was the author of the Apokrisis, then it is highly plausible that Ostrozhskii for a second time was instrumental in enlisting a Protestant to counter Roman Catholicism "on behalf of the people of the Greek religion." 98 The author's aim in the Apokrisis was to analyze the proceedings of the Council of Brest from a legal and canonical point of view. Readily discernible in his work, at least in key parts, is the influence of Calvin's Institutiones Christianae. 99 Protestant bias is most obvious in the emphasis on the rights of the laity in the Church and the minimal authority of the bishops. A somewhat similiar bent characterizes the closing section of the treatise, devoted to the papacy. Here the author made extensive use of a new and voluminous book by the Dutch scholar Sigrandus Lubbertus (1556-1625), entitled De Papa Romano (1594), in which the pope is identified with the Antichrist. 100 Apparently Lubbertus' book, too, had wide circulation among the Orthodox, with several important writers putting it to use: Meletii Smotritskii, 101 in his Lamentation for the One Ecumenical Apostolic Eastern Church [Threnos, 1610]; Zakharii Kopystenskii, in his Pali nodiia; Stephen Zizani, in his "Sermon of St. Cyril of Jerusalem on the Anitchrist and his times." 102

The impact which Protestant literature had on the Orthodox faithful should not be overstressed. However, a "taint" of Protestantism was thenceforth to remain a part of West Russian mentality, and even the much stronger Latin influence of later years did not really eradicate it. Far more dangerous, and of greater significance, was the habit which Orthodox writers acquired of approaching theological problems in a western frame of reference. To refute Roman Catholicism is not necessarily to strengthen Orthodoxy, and many Protestant arguments against Catholicism are compatible with Orthodox principles. Nevertheless Orthodox polemists unwittingly or carelessly employed them, with the result that on a number of matters Protestant views imperceptibly took hold. There is, of course, a corollary historical explanation. Patristic literature was scarce, a circumstance compounded by the general unreliability of contemporary Greek literature. Greek theology was at the time passing through a crisis. Greek scholars themselves were studying at schools in the West, in Venice, Padua, Rome, or else in Geneva or Wittenburg. They were more often at home in modern western innovations instead of the traditions of Byzantium. In the sixteenth century they were usually of Protestant hue, whereas somewhat later they took on a Latin tint. Suffice it to name the Orthodox Confession (1633) of Cyril Lucaris, a document which was Calvinist in spirit and in letter. And the works of Lucaris were known and appreciated in West Russia. Perhaps this infusion of Protestantism was inevitable. Whatever the case, under western influence the ancient ideal of Orthodox culture began to dim and blur.

There was, however, another solution to the problem of Rome: to abandon all "foreign learning" and to abstain from discussion and debate. This viewpoint or, more properly, mood, also spread in western lands during the same period. Its greatest exponent was Ivan Vishenskii (d. before 1625). Little is known of his biography, except what can be gleaned from his numerous writings. Born in Galicia, Vishenskii apparently received little formal schooling. He must have left for Mt. Athos when quite young, and he stayed there for the rest of his life. (Once, in 1606 it seems, he returned briefly to his native land, but finding himself no longer at home there he left again for Athos). Vishenskii referred to himself as a simpleton, a "poor wanderer" [goliakstrannik] and in similar vein countered the intellectual sophistications of the West with a "dove-like simplicity" and "foolishness before God." He should not, however, be taken too literally. Careful analysis of his writings suggests that he was fully abreast of the philosophical and literary movements current in Poland and in West Russia.

V. Peretts 103 states that Vishenskii was "endowed with literary skill and verve." He was without question a writer of talent, forceful, direct, frequently harsh or rude, but always original and to the point. His prose is full of vigor and humor, occasionally scaling to prophetic heights. Vishenskii probably learned his manner of argument from the Fathers; certainly the Areopagitica left an obvious imprint on his style. He was deeply rooted in Byzantine soil, though not from lack of wider learning. His central emphasis was on tradition and this in its most elementary sense: go to Church, obey the canons and the rules, do not indulge in argument. Vishenskii rejected "pagan wisdom" [paganskaia mudrost'] and "ornate reason" [mashkarnyi razum] without qualification. He opposed all scholasticism in its style, method, and substance and rejected all "refinements of the rhetorical craft" and all "external and worldly sophistications." A true monk, he had neither taste nor love for the polish and gloss of civilization. He addressed himself to lowly men: "O thou simple, unlearned, and humble Rusine, hold fast to the plain and guileless Gospel in which there is concealed an eternal life for thee." To pagan sophistry Vishenskii opposed the simplicity of faith, the "humblywise Octoechos."104 yet in his own way he, too, could be rhetorical. "Is it better for thee to study the Horologion, 105 the Psalter, the Octoechos, the Epistles and the Gospels, and the other books of the Church, and to please God in simplicity and thereby to gain eternal life, or to grasp the meaning of Aristotle and Plato and be, called a philosopher in this life and then go to Gehenna?" Vishenskii is here at the heart of the matter. The threat of the Unia could be overcome by inner effort alone, by a renewal and revival of spiritual life. Orthodoxy could not triumph by debates or resolutions, but only through ascetic faithfulness, humble wisdom, and intense prayer.

The difficulty with Vishenskii's position is that in the given historical realities it was impossible to avoid debate. The issues posed demanded response or else the Orthodox risked leaving the impression that they had nothing to reply. Reticence or silence was not a permanent alternative. Opponents needed to be faced, their challenges met; and the encounter had to be at their level and on their terms. Victory would not come by refraining, but by prevailing. In actual fact, Vishenskii himself did not entirely shrink from intervention. It is enough to mention his Epistle to the Apostate Bishops (1597 or 1598). 106 Still his writing is everywhere concerned with the fundamental predicament: the worldliness of the contemporary Church and the lowering of the Christian standard. Vishenskii's approach to the problem was thoroughly ascetical. The worldliness that threatened the Church he saw as coming from the West, and its antidote was to hold fast to the tradition of the East. His was not simply a call for passive resistance. It was an invitation to enter battle, but a battle of the spirit, an "unseen warfare."

The Union of Brest; "Brotherhoods"; the Kiev Monastery of the Caves.

The Unia began as a schism and remained a schism. In the apt phrase of the modern church historian Metropolitan Makarii (Bulgakov), "the Union in Lithuania, or rather in the West Russian lands, originated with anathema." 107 The Unia was fundamentally a clerical movement, the work of a few bishops, separated and isolated from the community of the Church, who acted without its free and conciliar consent, without a consensus plebis, or as was lamented at the time, "secretly and stealthily, without the knowledge [porazumenie] of the Christian people." Thus it could not but split the Orthodox Church, sunder the community of faith, and estrange the hierarchy from the people.

This same pattern was followed at a later date in other areas, in Transylvania and in the Carpatho-Russian region of Hungary. The result everywhere was a peculiar and abnormal situation: at the head of Orthodox people stood a Uniate hierarchy. The hierarchs viewed their submission to Roman authority as a "reunion of the Church," but in reality the Churches were now more estranged than ever. Whereas following its own logic, the new Uniate hierarchy took the resistance of the people to be uncanonical disobedience to established authority, the rebellion of an unruly flock against its lawful shepherds, the Orthodox believers, on their part, saw the resistance to the hierarchy, their so-called "disobedience," as the fulfillment of Christian duty, the inescapable demand of loyalty and fidelity. "Neither priests, nor bishops, nor metropolitans will save us, but the mystery of our faith and the keeping of the Divine commandments, that is what shall save us," wrote Ivan Vishenskii from Mt. Athos. And he forthwith defended the right of the faithful Christians to depose and drive out any apostate bishop, "lest with that evil eye or pastor they go to Gehenna." This was hazardous advice. But the situation had become fraught with ambiguity and complexity.

The Unia in Poland not only ruptured the Eastern Church, it also severed the Roman Catholic community. By creating a second holy body under papal authority, it originated a duality within the western Church. Full "parity of rites" was never achieved or recognized, nor did the two flocks of common obedience ever become one — indeed, this was not called for in the original agreement. The tensions between East and West now entered into the life of the Roman Catholic Church. As they spread, they intensified. Thus sociologically, the Unia proved a failure. The only way out of this impasse, or so some came to believe, was through the gradual integration (i.e., "Latinization") of the Uniate Church. This tendency was reinforced by yet another sentiment. Many from the start had viewed the Eastern rite as "schismatic," even if within Roman allegiance. They felt it was an alien accretion, a tactical concession to be tolerated for strategical reasons, but destined to give way to full integration into a uniform, that is, Latin, rite. Hence the subsequent history of the Unia in the Polish-Lithuanian State came to be dominated by just this urge for uniformity, this desire for "Latinization."

It has been contended by some on the Roman Catholic side that this development was normal, a sign of organic life and the proof of vitality. In a sense, this is true. But whatever the case, it must be recognized that the Unia in its mature form was quite different from that conceived in 1595, and even from that nurtured by the early Uniate leaders. It has also been argued that such a "Byzantine" institution could hardly have survived in a state which by principle and aspiration was wholly western, all the more so after several East Slavic regions went over to Muscovy and the more "intransigent" Orthodox groups were removed from Polish care. All these are but mild and euphemistic ways of saying that in principle Unia meant "Polonization," which is what happened historically. This was, of course, one of the original aims. The interests of the Polish State called for the cultural and spiritual integration of its Christian people, and it is for this reason that the state first encouraged and then supported the Unia. Indeed, that it survived at all was due to state intervention. But politically, too, the Unia was a failure. It promoted resistance rather than integration and added to the "schism in the soul," a "schism in the body politic." The other primal impulse for Unia (apparently the moving idea of Roman Catholic missionaries such as Possevino) sought a true "reunion of the Churches," embracing the whole of the Russian Church and, if possible, all of the Eastern Churches. This distinctly religious aspiration was dealt a fatal blow by that which was achieved politically and culturally, by precisely what has been praised as the proof of success or vitality.

The Union of Brest remained as it began, a "local arrangement" for the most part generated and preserved by reasons and forces of non-theological character. The Union of Brest did not arise out of a popular religious movement. It was the composition of several Orthodox bishops then in charge of Orthodox dioceses in the Polish-Lithuanian State together with authorities of the Roman Church and the kingdom of Poland. Once it became known that the act would not command the agreement or sympathy of the full body of the Church, it could only continue as a clandestine affair. Seemingly fearful that further delay might subvert the whole enterprise, Bishops Pociej and Terletskii (Terlecki) left for Rome. 108 But news of their secret plot became public, and even while they were away open protest against the Unia began in the Church. The Council of Brest was convened on their return. It was designed for the solemn promulgation of a fait accompli, not for discussion. But before the members could gather, a split appeared in the ranks of the Orthodox. Two "councils" resulted, meeting simultaneously and moving to opposed resolutions. The "Uniate Council" was attended by representatives of the Polish Crown and the Latin hierarchy, together with several hierarchs from the Orthodox Church. It drew up an instrument of Orthodox allegiance to the Holy See, which was then signed by six bishops and three archimandrites. The "Orthodox Council" was attended by an exarch of the ecumenical patriarch (Nicephorus), 109 an emissary from the patriarch of Alexandria (Cyril Lucaris), three bishops (Luke, the metropolitan of Belgrade, 110 Gedeon Balaban, 111 and Mikhail Kopystenskii 112), over two hundred clergy, and a large number of laymen assembled in a separate chamber. It disavowed the Unia and deposed those bishops in compliance, announcing its actions in the name and on the authority of the ecumenical patriarch, who held supreme jurisdiction over the metropolia of the West Russian lands. The decisions of the "Orthodox Council" were denounced by the Uniate bishops and — of greater import — repudiated by the Polish State. Henceforth all resistance to the Unia was construed as opposition to the existing order, and any writing critical of the act was branded a criminal offense. Exarch Nicephorus, who presided over the "Orthodox Council," was prosecuted and sentenced as an agent of a foreign state. 113 As a final measure, it was declared that the "Greek faith" would not be recognized by law. Those who remained faithful to Orthodoxy would no longer be simply stigmatized as "schismatics" but also harassed as "rebels." What to this point for the state had been essentially a problem of "religious unity" was instantly transformed into a problem of "political loyalty." As for the Orthodox believers, they had now to prepare a theological defense of their faith and, more urgently, to fight for legal recognition.

The struggle of the Orthodox against the enforced Unia was above all a manifestation of the corporate consciousness of the people of the Church. At first the main centers were Vilna and Ostrog. But soon Lvov came to the fore, to be joined at the beginning of the seventeenth century by Kiev. Of more importance was the change in the social strata upon which the Orthodox apologists could rely for sympathy and support. Whereas in the days of Kurbskii and Ostrozhskii the Orthodox cause was mainly supported by the high aristocracy [szlachta], in the next generation noble families experienced an exodus into the Unia or even into the Roman Catholic Church. Study in Jesuit schools frequently precipitated or promoted the exodus, and cultural integration into Polish high society invariably demanded it. Another pressure was the exclusion of "schismatics" from all important positions in the civil service, or for that matter in any walk of life. To replace the aristocracy at the front lines of Orthodox defense townsmen came forth. And with the turn of the century, the Cossacks, or more specifically the so-called "Fellowship of Knights of the Zaporozhe Regiment," took up the cudgels. 114 In these same years there also occurred an important institutional shift. The leading role in the defense of Orthodoxy was now assumed by the famous "brotherhoods" [bratstva], whose network soon spread over the whole of the western lands.

The origin of the brotherhoods is still obscure. Various theories have been put forth, but none is fully convincing. The most sensible view suggests that they began as parochial organizations, and at some time in the troubled years preceding the Unia, probably in the 1580's, transformed themselves into "corporations for the defense of the faith," whereupon they received ecclesiastical confirmation. The brotherhoods of Vilna and Lvov had their "statutes" approved by Patriarch Jeremiah in 1586, 115 and then, unexpectedly, received royal charters. 116 In internal affairs the brotherhoods were autonomous. Some also enjoyed the status of stauropegia; that is, they were exempt from the jurisdiction of the local bishop, which in effect placed them directly under the rule of the patriarch of Constantinople. The first brotherhood to receive such status was Lvov, followed by Vilna, Lutsk, Slutsk, and Kiev, and still later by Mogilev. The Lvov brotherhood for a while even had the patriarch's authority to supervise the actions of their local bishop, including the right to judge him as a court of final instance. Any decision of guilt rendered by the brotherhood bore the automatic anathema of the four eastern patriarchs. This unusual arrangement can only be explained by the abnormality of the situation, wherein the least dependable element in the West Russian Church was the hierarchy. Still, to grant such power to lay bodies was a daring venture. No doubt this unprecedented growth of lay power, in all likelihood with concomitant abuses, was a strong factor inclining some bishops towards Rome, in the belief that Rome might succeed in restoring proper authority. The conflict and estrangement engendered between hierarchy and laity in the aftermath of the Unia bred an unhealthy atmosphere deeply affecting the religious consciousness of both. Indeed, no period in the life of the West Russian Church was more trying than that between the Council of Brest and the "restoration" of the Orthodox hierarchy by Patriarch Theophanes of Jerusalem in 1620, by which time the Orthodox episcopate was almost extinct. 117 The misunderstandings and clashes of these years between brotherhoods and local Church authorities were so numerous and serious that even the re-establishment of a canonical hierarchy could not soon restore order to the Church. And the continuance of troubles was merely further assured when the Polish State stubbornly refused to recognize this new hierarchy.

The restoration of a canonical hierarchy was preceded by extended negotiations between Patriarch Theophanes IV and various circles in West Russia, where he stayed for two years. He then went to Moscow, where he had occasion to discuss the situation with the highest authorities there, Patriarch Filaret and Tsar Mikhail. 118 On his way home to Jerusalem, Theophanes again visited Poland. His contacts this time included the Cossacks, then led by Hetman Peter Konashevich-Sagadaichny, an alumnus of the Ostrog school, one of the founders of the Kiev brotherhood school, and a man of genuine cultural bent. 119 moves that were hardly unpremeditated, Theophanes on two occasions arranged to consecrate bishops, creating in all six new hierarchs, among them the metropolitan of Kiev. Several of the new bishops were known for their learning: Iov Boretskii, former headmaster of the schools at Lvov and Kiev, now made metropolitan of Kiev; 120 Meletii Smotritskii, an alumnus of the Vilna Academy, who also had attended several German universities; 121 and Ezekiel Kurtsevich, son of a princely family and for a time a student at the University of Padua. 122 In spite of such qualifications, the new Orthodox hierarchs found themselves at once engaged in a bitter struggle for authority. The Uniate Church and the Polish State both contested the consecrations, claiming that Theophanes was an intruder, an imposter, and even a Turkish spy. Only in 1632, just after the death of King Sigismund III, was the Orthodox hierarchy able to gain from his successor, King Wladyslaw IV, the recognition of law. 123 But even then their difficulties were not entirely at an end.

The troubles with the Polish State were not the only ones the Orthodox believers faced. In general it was an untimely season, an age of internecine strife and conflict, an era of wars and uprisings. To be constructive in such conditions was not easy. It was difficult to organize systematic religious activity and to create a regular school system. It was even harder to preserve some form of calmness and clarity of thought, so indispensable to the life of the mind. Nevertheless quite a bit was accomplished, although it is still not possible to assess its full significance.

In the field of education the brotherhoods took the lead. They organized schools, set up publishing centers, and printed books. The early brotherhood schools — like the school at Ostrog — were planned on the Greek pattern. After all, the Greek population in the cities of South Russia and Moldavia was at this time quite sizeable, with the whole region serving as a major area of the Greek diaspora. 124 Contact with Constantinople was frequent and regular. Greek influence could be felt in everything, and it did not begin to fade until the end of the seventeenth century. The brotherhood school at Lvov was founded by an emigré prelate, Arsenius, archbishop of Elassona and a former student of Patriarch Jeremiah. 125 Here, after 1586, the Greek language became a salient if not the principle feature in the curriculum. Inevitably some of the nomenclature became Greek. Teachers, for example, were referred to as didascals and students called spudei. In 1591 Arsenius compiled a Greek grammar, which he published in Greek and Slavonic. Based mainly on the noted grammar of Constantine Lascaris, 126 it also drew on the manuals of Melanchthon, 127 Martin (Kraus) Crusius, 128 and Clenard of Louvain. 129 At his brotherhood school in Lvov, as also in Vilna and Lutsk, it was not unusual for the students to learn to speak Greek fluently. Nor was there a shortage of available Greek literature. The catalogues of the brotherhood libraries list whole editions of the classics — Aristotle, Thucydides, and the like. Preachers would quote from the Greek text of the Scriptures in their sermons. Everywhere Greek titles were the fashion for books and pamphlets, and in general the literary language of West Russia at that time was saturated with Greek terminology. Apparently the whole spirit of teaching as well as the ethos was Hellenic. It is also true that Latin was from the beginning a part of the curriculum at the brotherhood schools. But on the whole "Latin learning" was viewed as an unnecessary frill, or even a dangerous "sophistry." Zakharii Kopystenskii's comment was fairly typical: "The Latinizers study syllogisms and arguments, train themselves for disputes, and then attempt to out-debate each other. But Greeks and Orthodox Slavs keep the true faith and invoke their proofs from Holy Writ."

By 1615, in the same year that the famous Kiev brotherhood was founded, a colony of learned monks was in residence in the Kievan Monastery of the Caves, gathered there chiefly from Lvov by the new archimandrite and abbot Elisei Pletenetskii. 130 In 1617 the Balaban printing press 131 was brought from Striatin to the monastery, where it was put to immediate use. The chief publications were liturgical books and the writings of the Fathers, but other works and authors also merit mention. First of all there is the valuable Slavonic-Ukrainian Lexicon [Leksikon Slaveno-Rossiskii i imen tolkovanie] compiled by Pamvo (Pamfil) Berynda, a Moldavian, and printed in 1627.132 Of the original works of the Kiev scholars, the most interesting and significant is the Book of Defense of the Holy Catholic Apostolic Ecumenical Church [Palinodiia] of Zakharii Kopystenskii, who in 1624 succeeded Pletenetskii as abbot of the Monastery of the Caves. It was composed in reply to the Uniate book, Defense of Encounter the Unity of the Church [Obrono jednosci cerkiewney, (Vilna, 1617)] by Leo Krevsa. 133 Kopystenskii sought in his study to elucidate the eastern understanding of the unity of the Church and with great artistry substantiated his argument by the Scriptures and the Fathers. From his Palinodiia and other writings it is clear that Kopystenskii was a man of broad erudition. He knew the Fathers and was acquainted with Byzantine historians and canonists, as well as modern books on the East (e.g., Crusius' Turko-Graeciae) and had also read some Latin books (e.g., De republica ecclesiastica by Marco Antonio de Dominis and De Papa Romano by Lubbertus). Kopystenskii — like Maxim the Greek before him — quietly and soberly rejected western scholasticism. It is plain that Kopystenskii knew his material and had worked through it on his own. He was neither an imitator, nor simply a factologist, but a creative scholar in the Byzantine mold. His Palinodiia, the task of many years, is still a model of lucidity. Unfortunately, it was not published in his day and in fact not until the nineteenth century. Kopystenskii died soon after its completion. His successor at the Monastery of the Caves, Peter Mogila, was a man of quite different temperament and persuasion. He could have had no sympathy for Kopystenskii's book, for it was too direct and outspoken.

Still another name to be added to the list of early Kievan scholars whose writings were significant is that of Lavrentii (Tustanovskii) Zizani (d. after 1627). Before coming to Kiev, he had taught in Lvov and Brest, and had published in Vilna in 1596 a Slavonic grammar and a lexis. Once in Kiev, Zizani turned his talents as a Greek expert to the translation of St. Andrew of Crete's Commentary on the Apocalypse 134 and to the supervision of an edition of St. John Chrysostom's homilies. But Zizani's main work remains his Catechism [Katekhizis]. When completed, the book was sent to Moscow for publication. There it ran into difiiculties. First it had to be translated from the "Lithuanian dialect" — as Muscovites denoted the literary language of West Russia — into Church Slavonic. But the translation was poorly done. In addition, authorities at Moscow detected grave doctrinal errors in the book. Zizani, it seems, held a number of peculiar opinions in all probability derived from his foreign sources: Protestant and Roman Catholic. He himself escaped condemnation, but the printed version of his Catechism was withdrawn from circulation and in 1627, burned. However, copies in manuscript form did survive and received wide dissemination and popularity. In the course of the eighteenth century the book was thrice reprinted by the Old Believers 135 of Grodno. Zizani, like Berynda, Kopystenskii and most of the early Kiev scholars, worked primarily in Greek and Slavonic sources, and the writings of these learned monks reflect an authentic cultural inspiration. But even as they labored a new tide was rising in that same Kievan milieu.

As the seventeenth century unfolded, Kiev began to feel more and more the impact of "Latin learning." New generations were of necessity turning to western books and with increasing frequency attending Jesuit schools, where, as if inexorably, they became imbued with the Latin pattern of study. Even Elisei Pletenetskii, in his effort to counteract the Uniate initiative of Metropolitan Veliamin Rutskii, 136 seems to have had a western model in mind when he sought to create an "Orthodox order." Under his direction, communal life at the Monastery of the Caves was restored, but on the rule of St. Basil rather than the more common Studite Rule. 137 A "Latin motif" can also be noted in some of the books published at that time by certain members of the circle at the Monastery of the Caves. On occasion this bias filtered in through tainted Greek sources; at other times it entered directly from Latin literature. Tarasii Zemka, composer of laudatory verses and the learned editor of Kievan liturgical books, 138 made considerable use of the celebrated work of Gabriel Severus on the sacraments, which had appeared in Venice in 1600. 139 Severus' book was permeated by Latin influence, if only in the phraseology which Zemka liberally adopted. (To take an example, where Severus used "metaousiosis," or the Greek equivalent of "transubstantiation," Zemka employed the Slavonic "prelozhenie suchchestv" ["the metastasis of substances"]). The influence of Latin thought is even more pronounced in Kirill Trankvillion-Stavrovetskii. 140 His book Mirror of Theology [Zertsalo bogosloviia], published at the Pochaev Monastery in 1618, can be regarded as the first attempt by a Kiev scholar at a theological system. A subsequent study, Commentaries on the Gospel [Uchitel noe Evangelie, printed in 1618], is similarly concerned with doctrine. Both works reflect Thomism, and even something of Platonism. In Kiev and Moscow they were censured for "heretical errors" [ereticheskie sostavy] and sentenced to destruction. But official rejection did not hinder their spread in manuscripts or mitigate their broad acceptance in the south as well as in the Russian north. Even so, disappointed that his books were repudiated by his ecclesiastical superiors, Stavrovetskii went over to the Unia.

Yet another figure in whom a Thomist influence can be seen is Kassian Sakovich (c. 1578-1674), headmaster of the Kiev brotherhood school from 1620-1624. It is most transparent in his On the soul [O dushe], printed in Cracow in 1625. From Kiev, Sakovich went to Lublin, where he established contact with the Dominicans and attended theological classes. He later continued this study in Cracow. And finally, Sakovich, too, joined the Unia, after which he launched a virulent polemic against the Orthodox Church. In this manner, then, in the second and third decades of the seventeenth century the Roman Catholic style of theology began to penetrate into the Kievan scholarly community. The next decade, the 1630's, saw Roman Catholic domination. The shift occurred simultaneously with a change of administration at the Kiev Monastery of the Caves, when Peter Mogila became abbot.

Uniatism.

The Unia was less an act of religious choice than cultural and political self-determination. Neither reasons of faith nor of doctrine were fundamental to the secession of the bishops. The early Uniates were quite sincere in contending that "they did not change the faith." They felt they were only transferring jurisdictions and seem really to have believed that the "Latin faith" and the "Greek faith" were identical. This aspect received considerable stress in their pamphlet literature, for example, in the Unia, or A Selection of Principal Articles [Unia, albo vyklad predneishikh ar"tikulov], published anonymously, but reputedly the work of Hypatius Pociej, 141 or in Harmony, or the Concordance of the Most Holy Church of Rome. 142 Many were equally convinced that under "Roman obedience" they could still be Orthodox. Greek Uniates, too, felt this way and made the most striking attempts to argue the case. In particular this was so for Peter Arcudius (1562-1633) in his De concordia Ecclesiae occidentalis in septem sacramentorum administratione libri septem (Paris, 1619). 143 Even more notable was Leo Allatius (1586-1669) in his De Ecclesiae occidentalis atque orientalis parpetua consensione libri tres (Coloniae, 1648). 144 Such a notion led to the stipulation in the final agreement that the Uniate Church was not to be merged with the Roman Catholic Church but would retain its own hierarchical independence and ritual. It was a clause acceptable even to a man like Ostrozhskii. He ended an opponent of the Unia, not because he perceived it to be a betrayal of faith, but because he knew the action was taken in an unlawful manner and therefore could have neither authority nor relevance for the whole Church.

Those who first turned to Uniatism seem to have been tempted by "undisturbed peace" under Roman obedience, which by implication meant the protection of Polish law. They also hoped to liberate themselves from the authority of the patriarch of Constantinople, long under the control of the Infidel Turk. Others of the early Uniates were more drawn to the splendors of western civilization and wished to partake in its riches. And there was a certain disenchantment with the East. One of the founders of the Unia, Hypatius Pociej, who became the second Uniate metropolitan, declared in a letter to the Patriarch of Alexandria Meletius Pigas: "You cannot be sure of attaining eternal life by heading for the Greek shore. . . . The Greeks distort the Gospel. They malign and betray the Patristic heritage. Saintliness is debased, and everything has come apart or fallen into discord in the Turkish captivity. . . . Calvin sits in Alexandria, instead of Athanasius, Luther in Constantinople, and Zwingli in Jerusalem" (Presumably Pociej was referring to Cyril Lucaris and to Pigas himself, both of whom had Protestant leanings). 145 And so Pociej chose Rome. No longer was the "wellspring of truth" [studenets pravdy] in the East, only in the West could a pure faith and a stable order be found.

As early as 1577, Peter Skarga 146 had pointed not to doctrinal differences but to the "Greek apostasy" and to the "backwardness of Slavic culture." "With the Slavonic tongue one cannot be a scholar. It has neither grammar nor rhetoric, nor can it be given any. Because of this language the Orthodox have no schools beyond the elementary which teach reading and writing. Hence their general ignorance and confusion." His judgment is harsh and wrong, though the narrowmindedness it expresses is fairly typical of the time. However true it may be that the Polish language was still not mature enough to serve as a vehicle of learning, the same cannot be said of Church Slavonic. Skarga was unaware of the difference, or he chose to ignore it. As he assessed the situation, the only remedy for the ignorance of the Slavs was the adoption of Latin culture. His attack did not go unanswered. Orthodox defenders such as Zakharii Kopystenskii would reply that the Slavonic tongue is kin to the language and culture of Greece, "and therefore, it is a safer and surer thing to make translations from the Greek and to write philosophy and theology in Slavonic than it is to use Latin, which is an impoverished tongue, too inadequate and too insufficient for lofty and involved theological matters." 147 Kopystenskii exaggerates as much as Skarga, only with the obverse. But the distinction they point to is a valid one.

From the outset, then, Uniatism was posed and perceived as a question of cultural determination. For Unia implied, regardless of all assurances or guarantees that the rites and customs of the East would be preserved, an inclusion or integration into western culture, or as the Germans say, a western Kulturraum. To state it badly, Unia meant religio-cultural westernization. It could only be resisted and overcome by steadfast allegiance to the Greek tradition. This was fully comprehended by those who toward the end of the sixteenth and the beginning of the seventeenth centuries rose to the defense of the Orthodox Church. It is enough to mention the eloquent vindication made by Gerasim Smotritskii in his Key to the Kingdom Of Heaven [Kliuch tsarstva nebesnago, 1584], and by Zakharii Kopystenskii in his Palinodiia several decades later. Their concern was also shared by the founders of the brotherhood school in Kiev:

We have founded by the grace of God this school for Orthodox children, and have provided it at great sacrifice with teachers of the Slavono-Russian and Helleno-Greek languages, as well as of other subjects, in order that they not drink from the alien spring, and, having imbibed the fatal poison of the schism of the West, be inclined to join forces with the dark and dismal Romans.

The only cultural concession of the Orthodox loyalists was the supplementation of Church Slavonic with the local vernacular, the russkii dialekt. With the passage of time this dialect came into increasing literary use because the common people understood it much better than Church Slavonic. It also came into occasional use in the spoken liturgy, or so it seems from the Lenten Triodion, which was printed in Kiev in 1627.148 Thus, as the Unia and its inherent westernization spread, a concerted effort arose in Poland to defend Orthodoxy. The issue now at hand was whether, confronted by this expanding western Kulturraum, a Slavono-Hellenic school and culture could survive. In the 1620's it was already an urgent issue; in the 1630's it became a burning one.

Metropolitan Peter Mogila of Kiev.

In the person of Peter Mogila (1596-1647) there is something enigmatic and strange. Was he a sincere champion of Orthodoxy or a manipulative hierarch of genius? It is hard to judge. Whatever the case, that he played a decisive role in the life of the West Russian Church, and, indirectly, in the later life of the whole Russian Church is indisputable. He was the most able and powerful Church leader in Poland and Lithuania in the whole of the seventeenth century. And it is appropriate that an entire era in the history of the West Russian Church bears his name: the Mogila epoch. Son of a hospodar of Moldavia [woevodich zemel' moldavskikh], 149 Mogila seems to have had from birth an appetite and talent for power. Even on the throne of the Kievan metropolia he proved more a sovereign than a pastor. Educated in the West, or, more exactly, in Poland and in a Polish fashion, Peter Mogila became in taste and habit a sophisticated and lifelong westerner. Apparently he studied at the celebrated Academy of Zamosc, founded in 1594 by Jan Zamoyski, the Grand Chancellor of Poland, 150 and seems later to have spent a short while in Holland. Upon the death of his father, Ieremia Mogila, he was taken as the ward of Chancellor Stanislaw Zolkiewski 151 and afterwards of Hetman Chodkiewicz. 152 In general while a youth Mogila, through family and friends, was closely linked to Polish aristocratic society. And in the future the sympathy and succor of Polish magnates would assure his vocational success.

In 1627, at just thirty years of age, Peter Mogila was elected archimandrite of the Monastery of the Caves. He probably aspired to this when he took monastic vows and first entered the monastery. Certainly when the post became vacant his candidacy was promoted by the Polish government. Once head of the monastery, Mogila set his own course, which sharply contrasted with that of his predecessor. This was most evident in the field of education. At the monastery Mogila decided to launch a Latin-Polish school, inevitably if not intentionally opposed to and in competition with Kiev's Slavono-Hellenic brotherhood school. His decision created great tension bordering on a riot in the city. In the words of a contemporary, Gavriil Dometskoi, 153 "There was great indignation among the uneducated monks and Cossacks: 'Why, as we were gaining salvation, do you start up this Polish and Latin school, never before in existence?' Only with great difficulty were they dissuaded from beating Peter Mogila and his teaching staff to death." 154 But Mogila was no man to be frightened. He emerged unscathed and soon after triumphed. The brotherhood had no choice but to accept him as "an elder brother, a protector and patron of this holy brotherhood, the monastery, and the schools." Pressing his advantage, Mogila first took over the administration of the brotherhood school and then combined it with his own school at the monastery to form a "collegium" on the Latin-Polish pattern. This new institution was housed in the Brotherhood monastery. Its curriculum and organization were modeled on the lines of Jesuit schools in the country, and all new teachers were recruited from graduates of Polish schools. Isaia Trofimovich Kozlovskii, the first rector of the Kievan collegium, 155 and Silvestr Kossov, the first prefect, received their education in Vilna, at the Jesuit college in Lublin, and at the Zamosc Academy. It seems that for a while they also studied at the Imperial Academy of Vienna. In the same manner, and at the same time he was engaged in organizing the new school at Kiev, Mogila set about to form a school in Vinnitsa. 156 There is reason to believe that Mogila had plans for spreading across the region a network of Latin-Polish schools for the Orthodox, as well as for creating something like a monastic teaching order, all under the Kiev collegium. 157

Mogila was an avid and resolute westernizer. His aim was to forge the heterogeneous peoples of the western regions into a single religious psychology and inspiration, into a common culture. Attending all his plans and endeavors, mostly but the symptom of a clash between two opposed religious cultural orientations (Latin-Polish and Helleno-Slavonic), was an intense, if submerged struggle. Mogila was not alone in his projects. His numerous allies included the whole of the younger generation, which, having passed through Polish schools, had come to regard the Latin West rather than the Slavonic-Hellenic East as its spiritual home. In a sense, this was natural and logical. Silvestr Kossov was eloquent and direct on the issue. We need Latin, he would say, so that no one can call us "stupid Rus" [glupaia Rus']. To study Greek is reasonable, if one studies it in Greece, not in Poland. Here no one can succeed without Latin — in court, at meetings, or anywhere for that matter. There is no need to remind us of Greek. We honor it. But Graeca ad chorum, Latina ad forum. Kossov's argument has logic. But the root of the matter was deeper. At one level it was a linguistic problem, but at a more profound level it was an issue of cultural setting and tradition.

For those opposed to the pressures by Mogila's followers for a Latin education there were good reasons for the suspicion that this was Uniatism. Were not the Orthodox partisans of a Latin orientation time and again in conference or negotiation with active Uniates, anticipating a compromise to which both sides could wholeheartedly adhere? Did they not more than once discuss a proposal to join all Orthodox believers in the region, Uniates and non-Uniates alike, under the authority of a special West Russian patriarch, simultaneously in communion with Rome and Constantinople? And was not Mogila himself always promoted for this august office by the Uniate side of the talks? This was, of course, hardly without his knowledge. Rutskii, the Uniate metropolitan, did not doubt for a moment that Mogila was "inclined to the Unia." It is certainly significant that Mogila never voiced doctrinal objections to Rome. In dogma, he was privately, so to speak, already at one with the Holy See. He was quite ready to accept what he found in Roman books as traditional and "Orthodox." That is why in theology and in worship Mogila could freely adopt Latin material. The problem for him, the only problem, was jurisdiction. And in the solution of this problem his outlook and temperament dictated that practical concerns would be decisive: ecclesiastical and political "tranquility" [uspokoenie], "prosperity" [blagosostoianie], "good order" [blagoustroistvo]. For in the practical realm everything is relative. Things can be arranged and agreed upon. The task is one for ecclesiastical tacticians.

An early and revealing episode in Mogila's career was his friendship with one of the new bishops, Meletii Smotritskii, consecrated by Patriarch Theophanes precisely at the time of his "eastern peregrinations." Smotritskii was a learned man. Because of his Slavic grammar, published in Vilna in 1619, he occupies a place in the history of general culture. It was a remarkable achievement for its time. It can even be argued that Smotritskii was — to borrow Joseph Dobrovskii's 158 phrase "princeps Grammaticorum Slavicorum." When he wrote this text, he was still of a Greek orientation. In it he sought to apply the rules of Greek grammar to the Slavonic tongue. 159 As an ecclesiastic, too, Smotritskii began in the Slavonic-Hellenic camp where he was a vigorous opponent of the Unia. It is enough to point to his Lamentation [Threnos] written in 1610, which describes the sufferings of the oppressed and persecuted Orthodox flock with a skillful combination of passion and rigor. It is likely that this and similar writings led to his selection in 1620 as bishop of Polotsk. Here he ran into difficulties. First there was conflict with Iosafat Kuntsevich, Uniate bishop of Polotsk; 160 then he was troubled by doctrinal disagreements among Orthodox polemists as well as abuses in the activity of the brotherhoods. Doubts arose, so Smotritskii decided on a trip to the Near East. At Kiev, on his way to Constantinople, he visited the metropolitan and received encouragement and blessing in his plan to ask the patriarch to cancel the "stauropegia" of the brotherhoods. Smotritskii succeeded in doing so, but the rest of his eastern journey proved a disappointment. This was especially so of his meeting with Cyril Lucaris, whose Catechism Smotritskii read while in Constantinople and who not only failed to calm his doubts but heightened them all the more. By the end of his journey Smotritskii had decided to seek some rapproachment with the Uniates. Back in Kiev he shared certain of these ideas with Mogila and Metropolitan Iov, 161 who were apparently sympathetic. After all, negotiations between the Orthodox and the Uniates, in which both seem somehow to have been involved, had been in progress since the Uniate proposal in 1623 for a joint conference to seek out agreement. Somewhat later, with apparent confidence, Smotritskii sent to Mogila and the metropolitan the manuscript of his Apology [Apologia peregrynacyi do krajdw wschodnich (Derman, 1628)]. It contained a full and vigorous presentation of his new views, and provoked no opposition. By this time, it seems since 1627, Smotritskii had gone over to the Unia, though secretly, in order, as he put it, that "pallio schismatis latens," he might better promote the Uniate cause among the Orthodox. However, his clandestine labors did not escape the attention of Isaia Kopinskii, bishop of Peremyshl and future metropolitan. 162

In the spring of 1628 Smotritskii formulated a six point memorandum, wherein, after noting the differences between Roman Catholicism and Orthodoxy, he insisted that they were not of sufficient magnitude or of such a character as to justify division, and submitted this to a conference of Orthodox bishops at Grodko, in Volynia. Once again, it seems, no open objection to his views was voiced. Hence a joint meeting with the Uniates was scheduled for the autumn of 1629. However, well before, at a plenary council of Orthodox bishops and clergy in August 1628, opponents of Smotritskii's ideas stepped forth in force. He was compelled to recant his Apology, which was condemned as heretical and then publicly burned. Within weeks, however, Smotritskii had, by means of a protestation, withdrawn his disavowal, and by means of various pamphlets embarked on a polemical exchange with his accusers. Leading the opposition were members of the older Orthodox generation, among whom suspicions arose about Mogila and the metropolitan, since neither had called for a recantation or condemned its withdraw. They could hardly have done so. Smotritskii's increasing empathy with the Unia had been of interest to Mogila for some time, and there were reasons for Smotritskii to suspect that his Unia plans would have the sympathy and cooperation not only of Mogila but of the metropolitan as well. What disagreement there was between Mogila and Smotritskii was not about ends but means. And the entire episode was all the more confused by an external pressure, referred to in Uniate literature as "the fear of the Cossacks."

Peter Mogila's election as metropolitan of Kiev also transpired under peculiar circumstances. With the death of King Sigismund III, the Orthodox, in April, 1632, seized the occasion of the election of a new king to wrest from the Polish electoral Diet certain "points of pacification for the Greek religion" [Punkty uspokoeniia religii grecheskoi], among them legalization of the Orthodox Church. As expected, the consent of King-elect Wladyslaw IV rapidly followed. Despite a subsequent whittling down of the "points of 1632," in practice, the victory remained. Though its phrasing was patently ambiguous, of particular importance was the right of the Orthodox to fill their vacated sees, including that of Kiev. In fact the sees had all been occupied since 1620 through the consecrations performed without announcement or publicity by Patriarch Theophanes. The consecrations were done at night in an unlighted sanctuary, as if by stealth, so as not to cause any disturbance. These consecrations, of course, had never received official recognition, but the Polish State seems to have come to terms with the fait accompli, if only because it could hardly avoid dealing with the new bishops. Now in 1632, with the new legal concession, it would be reasonable to expect that what was de facto would be made de jure. But nothing of this sort occurred. The Orthodox themselves, strangely enough, made no attempt to take advantage of the new law by applying for royal confirmation of their active hierarchy. It was decided instead that all the old bishops should retire and their bishoprics be turned over to new elects. This was not done because the episcopal occupants were in any way considered to be "illegal," that is, in office without the confirmation of the Crown, nor because the Church judged them to be of questionable merit. Indeed, they could be credited with having restored both order and canonical prestige to the Church in a time of real and present danger. It was simply that, although the old bishops may have played a preponderant role in the protracted struggle with the state in order to obtain recognition, the victory itself was the work of younger figures, partisans of a new and opposing ecclesiastical-political orientation, who had little interest in strengthening the hierarchical authority of their antagonists by a formal legalization. Consequently, what on the basis of the "points of 1632" had been touted as a "restitution" of the Orthodox hierarchy, was in reality an annulment of the existing hierarchy, established years earlier by Patriarch Theophanes. New bishops were now hastily and uncanonically chosen by the Orthodox delegates to the Diet rather than by local diocesan conventions and immediately confirmed by the King. It was in this way that Peter Mogila, aristocrat and Polonophile, was elected metropolitan of Kiev.

Mogila did not expect a peaceful reception in Kiev in his new capacity, even though he had many sympathizers there. Kiev already had a metropolitan, Isaia Kopinskii, consecrated in 1620 in Peremyshl by Theophanes and then translated to Kiev in 1631 at the death of Iov Boretskii. What is more, Kopinskii had already clashed with Mogila over the establishment of a Latin collegium in Kiev as well as in connection with the Smotritskii affair. This is why Mogila's consecration took place not in the city of his new see as was the rule and custom, but in Lvov, at the hands of Ieremia Tisarovskii, the local bishop, 163 two bishops of Theophanes' consecration, and an emigre Greek bishop. These clashes also explain why he sought patriarchal confirmation from Cyril Lucaris, who was once again on the ecumenical throne. Mogila received this and more. He was also bestowed with the title "Exarch of the Throne of the Holy Apostolic See of Constantinople." Fortified now with a consecration of double authority, and in the dual role of lawful metropolitan and patriarchal exarch, Mogila returned to Kiev. Even so, he was not able to avoid a grievous struggle with his "demoted" predecessor and finally had to resort to the secular authorities to secure Kopinskii's forcible removal. 164 Nor did this once and for all solve the conflict. The clash between Mogila and Kopinskii was not simply a competition for position or power. It was a collision of deep-rooted convictions about the fundamental problem of ecclesiastical orientation, in both its political and cultural dimensions.

Isaia Kopinskii was a man of simple and strong faith, somewhat on the order of Ivan Vishenskii. 165 Immersed as he was in the traditions of eastern theology and ascetics, he viewed "external wisdom" with skepticism and even antagonism.

The reasoning of this world is one thing, the reasoning of the spirit another. All the saints studied the spiritual reasoning coming from the Holy Spirit, and like the sun, they have illuminated the world. But now one acquires his power of reasoning not from the Holy Spirit, but from Aristotle, Plato, Cicero, and other pagan philosophers. And therefore, people are utterly blinded by falsehood and seduced from right understanding. The saints learned of Christ's commandments and of his works in the spirit. But these people learn mere words and speech, and therefore all their wisdom is on their tongues and darkness and gloom abide in their souls.

Kopinskii said this of the Latins, but it could have been even more easily directed at Mogila and the Orthodox of the new orientation. Kopinskii's Spiritual Alphabet, subtitled Ladder for the Spiritual Life in God [Alfavit dukhovnyi. Lestnitsa dukhovnago po Boze zhitel 'stva] offers a significant and symptomatic contrast to Mogila's Orthodox Confession [Pravoslavnoe Ispovedanie].166 Their antithesis of outlook and spirit is the main source for the struggle for power between the two men. Of course there was also a difference of political orientation: Isaia Kopinskii looked to the Orthodox state of Muscovy, while Peter Mogila sought help from the Catholic Kingdom of Poland. In their clash the Polish state had no reason to support Kopinskii and every reason to patronize Mogila. Faced with vigorous protests from Rome, the Polish Roman Catholic hierarchy, and the Uniates, King Wladyslaw IV was obliged if only for raisons d'etat to hold to his commitment made in the Pacta conventa of 1632, although he did find it necessary to make certain concessions to the Uniates at the expense of the new rights of the Orthodox. Wladyslaw hoped, it seems, that over the course of time the western orientation of his new Orthodox leaders might mitigate Orthodox-Uniate tension and even promote the cause of Catholic unity in the realm. It should be noted that within a few years a plan of a "universal union" [universal naia unia] did come forth, and at the center of negotiations there stood Orthodox of the new orientation, most notably Peter Mogila as well as Prince Afanasii Puzina who in the elections of 1632 had been chosen bishop of Lutsk. 167 Once ensconced as metropolitan, Mogila set out with new zeal to implement his ecclesiastical and cultural designs. His best results came in the field of education, especially (since he was most gifted as an organizer) in consolidating and extending the school system he began when abbot of the Monastery of the Caves. Of great importance also was his publication work, in particular his compilation of the Orthodox Confession and resumption of the printing of liturgical materials. Most critical for the future were Mogila's efforts to revise and reform the liturgies. First there was the Lithos [Rock], published in 1644 under the pseudonym of Evsevii Pimen. It was intended as a defense of the Eastern rite and Orthodox liturgy against the attacks of Kassian Sakovich, who had gone over to Latinism, 168 but much if not most of the large body of liturgical material in the Lithos came from Latin sources. In 1646 there appeared the famous Evkhologion or Trebnik [Prayer Book].169 This consisted of a comprehensive collection of rites, offices, and occasional prayers, accompanied by "prefaces" and "explanatory rubrics," which were accompanied by explanatory articles usually taken "z lacinskiey agendy," that is, from the Roman Ritual of Pope Paul V. 170 Many of the rites in the Trebnik had been reshaped, usually by replacing traditional prayers with prayers translated from the Latin. There has been no comprehensive study of Mogila's Trebnik, but those portions which have been analyzed betray an unmistakable dependency on the Latin sources, and from time to time a deliberate deviation from the Greek pattern (e.g., in the forms for the dedication and consecration of churches, in the blessing of bells, in the rite of "viaticum," 171 in the ordo commendationis ad animae . . .). 172 No doubt some of the changes were inconsequential. What cannot be dismissed, however, is the close attention given to Latin rites and regulations and the open disregard of the Greek tradition. Moreover, a number of the rites and offices printed in the Trebnik were totally innovative for Orthodox liturgies. Finally, some of the changes introduced by Mogila bore theological implications of importance, as for example, the shift from the declarative to the imperative form of absolution in the sacrament of Penance. Indeed, as a whole the theology of the sacraments articulated in Mogila's liturgical "prefaces" was decidedly western. What resulted from the Trebnik, then, was a radical and thorough "Latinization" of the Eastern rite. This did not escape the notice of contemporaries, especially the Uniates, but also the Orthodox of Moscow, who regarded books of "Lithuanian print," including the Kiev editions of Mogila, with suspicion and apprehension. Ironically, because of the liturgical work of Mogila and his co-laborers, the Orthodox in Poland experienced a "Latinization of rites" earlier than did the Uniates. In fairness it should be noted that Mogila was not the first of the Orthodox in Kiev to borrow from Latin liturgical sources. Iov Boretskii took steps in this direction, as for example, in the Lenten rite of "Passias." 173 Nor was Mogila the originator of that process of cultural absorption of Latin liturgical ideas and motifs. Others preceded him. Still in this trend toward the "Latinization" of the liturgy Mogila stands well to the fore because he promoted it on a larger scale and more systematically than anyone else.

To interpret the reign of Peter Mogila with precision is difficult. It has been argued that Mogila sought to create an "occidental Orthodoxy," and thereby to disentangle Orthodoxy from its "obsolete" oriental setting. The notion is plausible. But however Mogila's motives are interpreted, his legacy is an ambiguous one. On the one hand, he was a great man who accomplished a great deal. And in his own way he was even devout. Under his guidance and rule the Orthodox Church in West Russia emerged from that state of disorientation and disorganization wherein it had languished ever since the catastrophe at Brest. On the other hand, the Church he led out of this ordeal was not the same. Change ran deep. There was a new and alien spirit, the Latin spirit in everything. Thus, Mogila's legacy also includes a drastic "Romanization" of the Orthodox Church. He brought Orthodoxy to what might be called a Latin "pseudomorphosis." True, he found the Church in ruins and had to rebuild, but he built a foreign edifice on the ruins. He founded a Roman Catholic school in the Church, and for generations the Orthodox clergy was raised in a Roman Catholic spirit and taught theology in Latin. He "Romanized" the liturgies and thereby "Latinized" the mentality and psychology, the very soul of the Orthodox people. Mogila's "internal toxin," so to speak, was far more dangerous than the Unia. The Unia could be resisted, and had been resisted, especially when there were efforts to enforce it. But Mogila's "crypto-Romanism" entered silently and imperceptibly, with almost no resistance. It has of course often been said that Mogila's "accretions" were only external, involving form not substance. This ignores the truth that form shapes substance, and if an unsuitable form does not distort substance, it prevents its natural growth. This is the meaning of "pseudomorphosis." Assuming a Roman garb was an alien act for orthodoxy. And the paradoxical character of the whole situation was only increased when, along with the steady "Latinization" of the inner life of the Church, its canonical autonomy was steadfastly maintained.

While striving to keep the Orthodox Church in Poland independent, Mogila and his confreres of the new orientation kept to their plans for a "universal union." As early as 1636, a joint conference was sought between Uniates and Orthodox to consider a proposal for an autonomous West Russian patriarchate. Rome was even assured that the scheme would attract many Orthodox, including perhaps the metropolitan. But for some reason the conference never materialized. Yet another project was advanced in 1643, this time in a special memorandum submitted by Peter Mogila. It is known to us only in the paraphrase of Ingoli, secretary to the Office of Propaganda. 174 Mogila's memorandum apparently consisted of a lengthy discussion of the divergences between the two churches, the conditions he believed necessary for reunion, and an outline of the means to achieve them. Mogila did not see any insurmountable differences of doctrine. Filioque and per filium varied only in the phrasing. What divergence there was on purgatory was even less consequential, since the Orthodox did in some form acknowledge it. In ritual, too, agreement on all points was readily possible. The only serious difficulty was papal supremacy. Even if this were to be accepted by the Orthodox, Mogila stipulated, the eastern churches must still be allowed the principle of autocephalous patriarchates. It appears Mogila was willing to limit the "reunion" to Poland: he did not mention Muscovy, or the Greeks bound in Turkish captivity. Nor did he seek a merger: l'unione e non l'unite. For even under the supremacy of the pope the Orthodox were to retain their constitution. The metropolitan was still to be elected by the bishops, and although it would be expected that he take an oath of allegiance to the pope, his election would not require papal confirmation. In the event that the ecumenical patriarchate should unite with Rome, its jurisdiction in Poland was to be restored. The last section of Mogila's memorandum set out the means by which the new plan of union should be examined and deliberated. First it should be submitted to local and provincial diets for their discussion. Next, a conference ought to be arranged between the Uniates and the Orthodox, without, however, any reference to a perspective union. The findings obtained at these preliminary meetings should then be submitted to the general Diet of the realm. However elaborate, as with the project of 1636, nothing came of Mogila's reunion memorandum of 1643. And a few years later he died (1647).

Peter Mogila's attitude to the problems of the Roman Catholic Church was clear and simple. He did not see any real difference between Orthodoxy and Rome. He was convinced of the importance of canonical independence, but perceived no threat from inner "Latinization." Indeed, he welcomed it and promoted it in some respect for the very sake of securing the Church's external independence. Since Mogila sought to accomplish this within an undivided "universe of culture," the paradox was only further heightened. Under such conditions, Orthodoxy lost its inner independence us well as its measuring rod of self-examination. Without thought or scrutiny, as if by habit, western criteria of evaluation were adopted. At the same time links with the traditions and methods of the East were broken. But was not the cost too high? Could the Orthodox in Poland truly afford to isolate themselves from Constantinople and Moscow? Was not the scope of vision impractically narrow? Did not the rupture with the eastern part result in the grafting on of an alien and, artificial tradition which would inevitably block the path of creative development? It would be unfair to place all blame for this on Mogila. The process of "Latinization" began long before he came on the scene. He was less the pioneer of a new path than an articulator of his time. Yet Peter Mogila contributed more than any other, as organizer, educator, liturgical reformer, and inspirer of the Orthodox Confession, to the entrenchment of "crypto-Romanism" in the life of the West Russian Church. From here it was transported to Moscow in the seventeenth century by Kievan scholars and in the eighteenth century by bishops of western origin and training.

The Orthodox Confession.

The Orthodox Confession is the most significant and expressive document of the Mogila era. Its importance is not limited to the history of the West Russian Church, since it became a confession of faith for the Eastern Church (though only after a struggle, and its authoritative character is still open to question). Who the author or the editor of the Confession really was remains uncertain. It is usually attributed to Peter Mogila or Isaia Kozlovskii. 175 More than likely it was a collective work, with Mogila and various members of his circle sharing in the composition. The exact purpose of the Confession also remains unclear. Originally conceived as a "catechism," and often called one, it seems to have been intended as a clarification of the Orthodox faith in relation to the Protestants. In fact, it is now widely assumed that Mogila's Confession was prepared as a rejoinder to the Confession of Cyril Lucaris, which appeared in 1633 and whose pro-Calvinist leanings stirred disquiet and confusion in the whole Orthodox world. In 1638 — after certain collusion and pressure from Kome — both Lucaris and his Confession were condemned by a synod in Constantinople. 176 These events may explain why when Mogila's Confession came out the Greek Church was drawn to it and, after editing by Syrigos, 177 conferred on it the Church's authority.

The first public appearance of the Orthodox Confession came in 1640, when Peter Mogila submitted it to a Church council in Kiev for discussion and endorsement. Its original title, Exposition of the Faith of the Orthodox Church in Little Russia, indicates the limited scope intended for the document. Primarily aimed at theologians and those who were concerned with theology, the Confession was composed in Latin. The council in Kiev criticized the draft at a number of points. Divergent views were voiced about the origin of the soul and its destiny after death, particularly in regard to purgatory and "an earthly paradise." 178 Here Mogila had argued for creationism 179 as well as for the existence of purgatory. The council in Kiev also engaged in an extended discussion as to when the actual metastasis of the elements occurs in the Eucharistic liturgy. Before it concluded, the council introduced certain amendments into the Confession. The document was again subjected to open discussion in 1642 at what has been referred to as a council, but what was in fact a conference in Iasi, convened, so it seems, on the initiative of Mogila's friend, the Moldavian prince, Basil, surnamed Lupul, the Wolf. 180 In attendance were two representatives of the ecumenical patriarchate, both sent from Constantinople with the title of exarch, Meletios Syrigos, one of the most remarkable Greek theologians of the seventeenth century, and Porphyrius, metropolitan of Nicea, 181 as well as several Moldavian bishops, including Metropolitan Varlaam, 182 and three delegates from Kiev — Isaia Kozlovskii, Ignatii Oksenovich, 183 and Ioasaf Kononovich. 184 Meletios Syrigos took the leading role. Syrigos raised a number of objections to the Confession, and when translating it into Greek introduced various amendments. Most of his changes were actually stylistic. He chose, for example, to eliminate certain Scriptural quotations used in the draft. Mogila had followed the Latin Vulgate, which meant that some of his citations were either not in the Septuagint or were so differently phrased that to retain them would have made the Confession highly inappropriate for Orthodox believers.

Mogila was not satisfied with the Confession as amended by Syrigos. He decided not to print it, and in its place he published simultaneously in Kiev a Ukrainian Church Slavonic translation and a Polish version, the so-called Brief Catechism [Malyikatekhizis, 1645].185 Only a few of the changes proposed by Syrigos for the Confession were adopted in the Brief Catechism. Moreover, it was intended for a different audience, "for the instruction of young people," ["dla cwiczenia Mlodzi"], which is why it was first composed in colloquial language. In 1649 Mogila's Brief Catechism was translated from the Ukrainian Church Slavonic into "Slavonic-Russian" and published in Moscow. In the meantime, the history of Syrigos' revised Greek version of the Orthodox Confession began a new chapter. In 1643 it was officially endorsed by the four eastern patriarchs. However, since the Greek Church showed little interest in publishing it, the first Greek edition appeared only in 1695. From this latter edition, a Slavonic-Russian translation was made and published in 1696 at the request of Metropolitan Varlaam Iasinskii of Kiev 186 with the blessing of Patriarch Adrian. 187 This was almost a half century after the Brief Catechism had been published in Moscow. 188

Mogila's Confession, in complete contrast to Lucaris' Protestant oriented Confession, was patently compiled from Latin sources. As the plan of the book betrays, its arrangement was also on the Latin pattern. It was divided according to the so-called "three theological virtues," Faith, Hope, and Charity. Belief was elucidated through an interpretation of the Creed. Ethics were expounded by means of commentaries on the Lord's Prayer, the Beatitudes, and the Decalogue. Of course the compilers had more than one Latin paradigm before them. The most obvious source was the Catechismus Romanus,189 which first appeared in Greek translation in 1582. Others seem to have been the Opus Catechisticum, sive Summa doctrinae christianae of Peter Canisius, S.J., 190 the Compendium doctrinae christianae (Dillingen, 1560) by the Dominican Petrus de Soto,191 and the Disputationes de controversiis christianae fidei adversus hujus temporis haereticos (Rome, 1581-93) of Cardinal Robert Bellarmine (1542-1621). 192 To cite further Latin sources is unnecessary. The main point is that taken as a whole the Orthodox Confession is little more than a compilation or adaptation of Latin material, presented in a Latin style. Indeed, Mogila's Confession can justly be categorized as one of the many anti-Protestant expositions, which appeared through out Europe during the Counter Reformation or Baroque era. Certainly the Confession was more closely linked to the Roman Catholic literature of its day than to either traditional or contemporary spiritual life in the Eastern Church.

It is true that in Mogila's Confession key Roman doctrines, including the primacy of the pope, are repudiated. Nevertheless, much of the substance and the whole of the style remain Roman, and not even Syrigos' editing at Iasi could alter that fact. After all, as was customary for Greeks in the seventeenth century, Syrigos had gone to a Latin school. He attended Padua, where he became an adherent of Bellarmine, or, as his contemporaries said of him, "omnino Bellarminum spirare videtur." This is not said to argue that the teaching of the Orthodox Confession was at certain points in error. It was not so much the doctrine, but the manner of presentation that was, so to speak, erroneous, particularly the choice of language and the tendency to employ any and all Roman weapons against the Protestants even when not consonant in full or in part with Orthodox presuppositions. And it is here that the chief danger of Mogila's Latin "pseudomorphosis" or "crypto-Romanism" surfaces. The impression is created that Orthodoxy is no more than a purified or refined version of Roman Catholicism. This view can be stated quite succinctly: "Let us omit or remove certain controversial issues, and the rest of the Roman theological system will be Orthodox." Admittedly, in some ways this is true. But the theological corpus that is thereby obtained lacks or sorely reduces the native genius and the ethos of the eastern theological tradition. Mogila's "crypto-Romanism," in spite of its general faithfulness to Orthodox forms, was for a long time to bar the way to any spontaneous and genuine theological development in the East.

It is instructive from this same point of view to compare the Orthodox Confession with the theological works of Silvestr Kossov, Mogila's follower and successor as metropolitan of Kiev. His Exegesis [Ekzegezis] published in 1635 sought to vindicate the new Latin schools which Mogila organized for the Orthodox. His Instruction, or Science of the Seven Sacraments [Didaskalia albo nauka o sedmi sakramentakh, 1637] was an attempt to answer the charges of Protestantism leveled against him by his Roman opponents. Kossov, it is important to note, chose to respond to these critics in the language of Latin theology. This is particularly evident in that portion of his book devoted to the sacraments, which closely follows the well-known treatise of Peter Arcudius. 193 Latin terminology abounds in his work: "transubstantiation" the distinction between "form" and "matter," the "words of institution" as the "form" of the sacrament of the Eucharist, "contrition" as the "matter" of Penance, and others. Since liturgical practice organically follows liturgical theology, it became necessary for the Orthodox of the new orientation to make alterations in the rites. Peter Mogila's Trebnik permanently established a number of those changes, which had developed in practice as well. It also introduced certain new ones. For example, in the sacrament of Confession the formula for absolution was changed from the impersonal "your sins are forgiven you" [grekhi tvoi otpushchaiutsia] to the personal "and I, unworthy priest" [i az, nedostoinyiierei]. It is also at this time that the sacrament of anointing of the sick [euchelation] came to be interpreted as ultima unctio, and to be used as a form of viaticum, whereas previously the eastern tradition had always regarded it as a sacrament of healing. 194 With the next generation in Kiev, Latin influences on religious thought and practice were to intensify and expand in a more systematic manner.

The Kiev Academy.

During the lifetime of Peter Mogila, the Kiev collegium was still not a theological school. The charter, granted on March 18, 1635, by King Wladyslaw IV, made it a condition that teaching in the collegia should be limited to philosophy ("ut humaniora non ultra Dialecticam et Logicam doceant"). Only towards the end of the seventeenth century, with the introduction of a special "theological class" into the curriculum, was theology taught as a separate discipline. Some problems of theology, however, were treated in courses in philosophy. At the Kiev collegium the general plan of education was adopted from the Jesuit school system. This included the curriculum down to the level of even textbooks. The texts began with Alvarius grammar 195 and ended with Aristotle and Aquinas. Also similar to the Jesuit collegia and academies in Poland were the organization of school life, the teaching methods, and the discipline. The language of instruction was Latin, and of all other subjects offered Greek was given lowest priority. Thus in practically every respect the Kiev collegium represents a radical break with the traditions of earlier schools in West Russia. Though it does seem that the school furnished an adequate preparation for life in Poland, its students were hardly initiated into the heritage of the Orthodox East. Scholasticism was the focus of teaching. And it was not simply the ideas of individual scholastics that were expounded and assimilated, but the very spirit of scholasticism. Of course this was not the scholasticism of the Middle Ages. It was rather the neo-scholasticism or pseudo-scholasticism of the Council of Trent. 196 It was the Baroque theology of the Counter-Reformation Age. This does not mean that the intellectual horizon of a seventeenth century scholar in Kiev was narrow. His erudition could be quite extensive. Students of that era read a great deal. But usually their reading was in a limited sphere. The Baroque Age was, after all, an intellectually arid era, a period of self-contained erudition an epoch of imitation. In the life of the mind it was not a creative.

The middle of the seventeenth century was a difficult and troubled time for the Ukraine. "The Kiev collegium," to quote Lazar Baranovich, 197 Archbishop of Chernigov, "shrank in stature, and became like a small Zacchaeus." Not until the 1670's, under the rectorship of Varlaam Iasinskii (later metropolitan of Kiev) was the beleaguered and desolate school restored. During this troubled period it was not unusual, it was in fact almost customary, for students to go abroad to be trained. Varlaam himself had studied in Elbing and in Olomouc, and had done some work at the academy in Cracow. His colleagues in the Kiev collegium were educated either at the Jesuit Academy in Engelstadt or at the Greek College of St. Athanasius in Rome. Even after the collegium regained its strength, this custom did not entirely end. It is known that many of those who taught there at the end of the seventeenth arid the beginning of the eighteenth century had in their student days formally repudiated Orthodoxy and passed under "Roman obedience." No doubt this was facilitated, even necessitated, by the requirement then in effect that admission to the Jesuit schools be conditional upon conversion to Rome, or at least acceptance of the Unia. Stefan Iavorskii, bishop and patriarchal locum tenens under Peter the Great, is a prominent example: 198 Hence the comment of a newly arrived Jesuit observer in Moscow generally about Russia and particularly about the Brotherhood Monastery in Kiev, where the collegium was located: "There are many Uniate monks, or monks who are close to the Unia, and even more who hold the highest opinion of us . . . In Kiev, there is an entire monastery made up of Uniates." 199 His remark lends credence to a sharp attack on the Kiev scholars leveled by Dositheus, Patriarch of Jerusalem: 200

In that land, called the land of the Cossacks, there are many who have been taught by the Latins in Rome and in Poland, who thereafter have become abbots and archimandrites, and who in their monasteries publicly read unseemly sophistries and wear Jesuit rosaries around their neck . . . Let it be decreed that upon the death of these archimandrites and priests, no one who goes to a Popish place for study shall be appointed archimandrite, abbot, or bishop.

In later years Dositheus became especially alarmed at Stefan Iavorskii, then locum tenens of the patriarchal see of Moscow. He charged him with Latinism and demanded the immediate withdrawal of all Iavorskii's claims to the Moscow patriarchate. Dositheus, it should be noted, was equally strident with like-minded Greek candidates, declaring that "no Greek, nor anyone brought up in Latin and Polish lands and trained in their schools should be chosen patriarch of Moscow." Because, he warned, "they are associated with the Latins and accept their various manners and dogmas."

What the "manners" and "dogmas" are to which Dositheus refers can be ascertained by examining the lectures and lesson plans as well as others of the writings of various instructors at the Kiev collegium spanning the last half of the seventeenth century. Key examples will suffice. Ioanniki Goliatovskii (d. 1688), rector from 1658 to 1662, was a preacher, polemist, and prolific writer. He acknowledged quite openly that he adapted Latin sources to his purposes. In 1659, for a new edition of Key to Understanding [Kliuch razumeniia], one of his many sermon collections, he appended A Brief Guide for the Composition of Sermons [Nauka korotkaia albo sposobzlozhenia kazania]. For later editions he enlarged it. Like most of Goliatovskii's work, the Brief Guide is characterized by a decadent classicism. There is in his choice and elucidation of texts and subjects — weighted as they are with what he called "themes and narrations" — a forced and pompous rhetorical symbolism. Here is how he rendered advice: "read books about beasts, birds, reptiles, fish, trees, herbs, stones, and the various waters which are to be found in the seas, rivers, and springs, observe their nature, properties, and distinctive features, notice all this and use it in the speech which you wish to make." Of course all public discourse in his day suffered from bizarre analogies and an overabundance of illustration. Even before the oratorical style of Kiev had reached this kind of extreme, Meletii Smotritskii ridiculed the habit Orthodox preachers had for imitating Latin-Polish homiletics. "One enters the pulpit with Ossorius, 201 another with Fabricius, 202 and a third with Skarga," 203 he said, referring to the fashionable Polish preachers of the day. He could also have named Tomasz Mlodzianowski, 204 a sixteenth century preacher of wide acclaim, who was the most imitated and grotesque of all. None of this was really genuine preaching. It was much more an exercise in rhetorics quite suited to the prevailing taste. Still, even while engaged in such verbal excesses, Goliatovskii and others like him staunchly opposed Jesuit polemists, and at length refuted their views on papal authority, the Filioque, and various other issues. But Goliatovskii's cast of mind, as well as his theological and semantic style of argument, remained thoroughly Roman.

The tenor of strained artificiality is even stronger in the writings of Lazar Baranovich, who was rector at the Kiev collegium from 1650 to 1658 and then archbishop of Chernigov. 205 A brave opponent of Jesuit propaganda, he did not hesitate to take on subjects of the greatest controversy, as is evident in his New Measure of the Old Faith [Nowa miara starey Wiary, 1676]. But once again the manner of expression and the mode of thought are typical of Polish Baroque. Baranovich even wrote in Polish, filling his works with fables, "an abundance of witticisms and puns," jests, "conceits and verbal gems." "In those days," of course, as has been noted, "it was considered appropriate to mix sacred traditions of the Church with mythological tales." Yet another Kievan scholar of this variety was Antonii Radivillovskii. 206 All of his homilies [prediki] and sermons [kazaniia] were modelled on Latin examples. And his book, The Garden of Mary, Mother of God [Ogorodok Marii Bogoroditsy, 1676] well illustrates the highly allegorical and rhetorical Latin style exercised on Marian themes common to that era.

Of a somewhat different mold than these Kievan scholars was Adam Zernikav of Chernigov. He deserves mention because of his special place in the ranks of religious leaders at that time in the south of Russia. Born in Konigsberg, and trained in Protestant schools, Zernikav came to Orthodoxy through scholarly study of the early Christian tradition. 207 After a long period in the West, primarily in study at Oxford and London, he turned up in Chernigov. There he made his mark as the author of the treatise, De processione Spiritus Sancti, which after its belated publication in Leipzig in 1774-1776 by Samuil Mislavskii, Metropolitan of Kiev, 208 gained him wide renown. It appears to have been Zernikav's only work, but it is the work of a lifetime. There is manifested in it an enormous erudition and a great gift for theological analysis. To this day Zernikav's work remains a skillful compilation of valuable materials, one of the most comprehensive studies on the subject ever made. It still deserves to be read.

The two most outstanding examples of Kievan learning in the late seventeeth century were Saint Dimitrii (Tuptalo, 1651-1709) and Stefan Iavorskii, though to be sure their religious importance is not confined to the history of Kievan theology. Each played a large part in the history of Great Russian theology. Nevertheless, both figures are quite representative of the later years of the Mogila epoch. Dimitrii, who became bishop of Rostov after his move to the north, is famous for his work in the field of hagiography. Here his main work was his book of saints' lives, The Reading Compendium (Chet i-Minei, 1689-1705). Based for the most part on western sources, the bulk of the work is taken from the renowned seven volume collection of Laurentius Surius,209 Vitae sanctorum Orientis et Occidentis, (1563-1586, itself actually a reworking into Latin of Symeon Metaphrastes' work on the lives of saints).210 Dimitrii also utilized various of the volumes of the Acta Sanctorum, which had by his time appeared in the Bollandists' edition, 211 as well as Skarga's personal collection of hagiographies, Lives of the Saints (Zywoty swgtych, 1576) which, judging from the large number of translations that circulated in manuscript form, must have been popular among the Orthodox for a long time. Skarga's style and language, too, left a deep imprint on the work of St. Dimitrii. Greek and Old Church Slavonic materials, however, are hardly present at all, and there is scarcely a trace of the diction and idiom of the East. St. Dimitrii's sermons were also of a western character, especially those of the early years. The same is true of his morality plays, written in Rostov for school performances, and patterned as they were after the popular Jesuit dramas of the time. The catalogue of Dimitrii's private library which has been preserved tells a similar story: Aquinas, Cornelius a Lapide,212 Canisius, Martin Becan,213 the sermons of Mlodzianowski, numerous books on history, the Acta Sanctorum, a number of the Fathers in western editions, and publications from Kiev and others of the cities in the south. On the whole it was a library appropriate to an erudite Latin. True, in his spiritual life, St. Dimitrii was not confined to the narrow mold of a Latin world, but as a thinker and writer he was never able to free himself from the mental habits and forms of theological pseudo-Classicism acquired when at school in Kiev. Nor did he wish to do so, insisting with obstinacy on their sacred character. And in the north, in Russia, where he settled, he never came to understand its distinctive religious ethos and the circumstances that shaped it. To cite but one example: Dimitrii understood the Old Believer movement as no more than the blindness of an ignorant populace. 214

A somewhat younger man than St. Dimitrii was Stefan Iavorskii (1658-1722), who came to prominence in the north only during the reign of Peter the Great. Nevertheless he was a typical representative of the Kievan cultural pseudomorphosis," that "Romanized" Orthodoxy of the Mogila epoch. Iavorskii studied under the Jesuits in Lvov and Lublin, and afterwards in Poznan and Vilna. During these years he was doubtlessly under "Roman obedience." On his return to South Russia, he rejoined the Orthodox Church, took monastic vows in Kiev, and received an appointment to teach at the collegium, where he later became prefect and then rector. Iavorskii was a gifted preacher, delivering his sermons with passion and authority. In spite of his simple and direct intent to teach and persuade, his style was that same pseudo-Classicism, replete with rhetorical circumlocution. Still, Iavorskii was a man of religious conviction, and he always had something to say. His main theological work, Rock of Faith [Kamen' very] was a polemical treatise against Protestantism. 215 Written in Latin, even though he had left Kiev, it was less an original work than an adaptation or even abridgement of a highly select body of Latin books. His main source was Bellarmine's Disputationes de controversiis christianae fidei adversus hujus temporis haereticos from which Iavorskii repeated entire sections or paragraphs, often word for word. Another basic source was Martin Becan's Opera (1649). Though a valuable refutation of Protestantism, Iavorskii's Rock of Faith was hardly an exposition of Orthodox theology, although unfortunately it has too often been understood as such. A second book of Iavorskii's, Signs of the Coming of the Antichrist [Znameniia prishestviia Antikhristova, 1703], was also more or less a literal rendering of a Latin work, in this case the treatise De Antichristo libro XI (Rome, 1604) by the Spanish Dominican Tomas Malvenda. 216

With the beginning of the eighteenth century, the Mogilan epoch reached a climax, when the school and culture Mogila had established at Kiev came to its fruition. In theology and in other fields as well the period during the rule of the hetman Mazepa (1687-1709) represents the height of what may be termed the Ukrainian Baroque. 217 For a time the Kievan Academy (promoted to the rank of "Academy" in 1701) was even referred to semi-officially as the "Academia Mogiliano Mazepiana." But its climax was also the end. The flowering was also an epilogue. Probably the most representative figure of this final chapter in the Mogila era in Kievan intellectual history was Ioasaf Krokovskii (d. 1718), reformer, or even second founder, of the Kievan school. For a time he served as its rector and later he became metropolitan of Kiev. More than any other figure he seems to exhibit in religious activity and intellectual outlook all the ambiguities and contradictions of Kiev's cultural "pseudomorphosis: Educated at the Greek College of St. Athanasius in Rome, Krokovskii for the rest of his life was to retain the theological set of mind, religious convictions, and devotional habits he acquired there. At Kiev, he taught theology according to Aquinas and centered his devotional life — as was characteristic of the Baroque era — on the praise of the Blessed Virgin of the Immaculate Conception. It was under his rectorship that the student "congregations" of the Kiev Academy known as Marian Sodalities arose, in which members had to dedicate their lives "to the Virgin Mary, conceived without original sin" ("Virgini Mariae sine labe originali conceptae") and take an oath to preach and defend against heretics that "Mary was not only without actual sin, venal or mortal, but also free from original sin," although adding that "those who regard her as conceived in original sin are not to be classed as heretics." 218 Krokovskii's acceptance of the Immaculate Conception and his propagation of the doctrine at Kiev was no more than the consolidation of a tradition that for some time in the seventeenth century had been forming among various representatives of Kievan theology, including St. Dimitrii of Rostov. And in this realm, too, it was but an imitation or borrowing from Roman thought and practice. The growing idea of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary was intellectually linked with an evolving trend in the interpretation of Original Sin, but, more profoundly, it was rooted in a specific psychology and attitude developing historically within the bosom of the western Baroque. The veneration of Panagia and Theotokos by the Orthodox is by no means the same. 219 It is grounded in a spiritual soil of an altogether different kind.

Although the Ukrainian Baroque came to an end during the early eighteenth century, its traces have not fully vanished. Perhaps its most enduring legacy is a certain lack of sobriety, an excess of emotionalism or heady exaltation present in Ukrainian spirituality arid religious thought. It could be classified as a particular form of religious romanticism. Historically this found partial expression in numerous devout and edifying books, mostly half-borrowed, which at the end of the seventeenth and the beginning of the eighteenth centuries were coming out in Kiev, Chernigov, and other cities of South Russia. Interesting parallels to these literary documents can be found in the religious painting and ecclesiastical architecture of the time. 220

The "Pseudomorphosis" of Orthodox Thought.

From the cultural and historical points of view, Kievan learning was not a mere passing episode but an event of unquestionable significance. This was the first outright encounter with the West. One might even have called it a free encounter had it not ended in captivity, or more precisely, surrender. But for this reason, there could be no creative use made of the encounter. A scholastic tradition was developed and a school begun, yet no spiritually creative movement resulted. Instead there emerged an imitative and provincial scholasticism, in its literal sense a theologica scholastica or "school theology." This signified a new stage in religious and cultural consciousness. But in the process theology was torn from its living roots. A malignant schism set in between life and thought. Certainly the horizon of the Kievan erudites was wide enough. Contact with Europe was lively, with word of current searchings and trends in the West easily reaching Kiev. Still, the aura of doom hovered over the entire movement, for it comprised a "pseudomorphism" of Russia's religious consciousness, a "pseudomorphosis" of Orthodox thought.

***

3. The Contradictions

of the Seventeenth Century.

Introduction.

For Muscovy, the seventeenth century began with the Time of Troubles. l The election of a new dynasty did not put an end to them. An entire century passed in an atmosphere of extreme tension and disquiet and in dissent, differences, and disputes. It was an age of popular revolts and rebellions.

But the Time of Troubles was not only a political crisis and a social catastrophe, it was also a spiritual shock or moral rupture. During the Time of Troubles the national psyche was reborn. The nation emerged from the Time of Troubles altered, alarmed, and agitated; receptive to new ways, but very distrustful and suspicious. This was a distrust that arose from a spiritual lack of conviction or from a sense of failure which was far more dangerous than all the social and economic difficulties into which the government of the early Romanovs was plunged.

It is still very fashionable to depict the seventeenth century as a counterpoint to the era of Peter the Great: a "pre-reform" period, a static and stagnant age, a dark background for the great reforms. Such a characterization contains very little truth, for the seventeenth century was a century of reform. Of course many people still lived according to tradition and custom. Many even felt an intensified urge to rivet every aspect of life in chains or turn life into a solemn, consecrated, if not holy, ritual. However, memory of the catastrophe was still fresh. The past had to be restored and customs observed with great presence of mired and deliberation as precise, abstract legal prescriptions.

Muscovite style during the seventeenth century was least of all direct or simple. Everything was too premeditated, deliberated, and designed. People usually begin to consider and to be disturbed about the indestructibility of ancestral foundations and traditions only when the old customs [byt'] are being shattered. Thus, in the pathos of the seventeenth century can be detected a belated self-defense against the incipient collapse of custom and routine, a kind of failing "retreat into ritual" rather than any coherent wholeness or strength. There is more than enough direct evidence that this shattering of customary life was general.

The most tenacious conservatives and zealots of the old order spoke openly about "correction." Even they felt and admitted that it was no longer possible to survive on the inertia of tradition or habit. Resoluteness and determination were needed. By "correction" these zealots usually meant repentance, moral transformation, and concentration of will [sobrannost'], as in the cases of Neronov 2 or Awakum. 3 Their instinct became dulled and an organic sense of life was lost. That is why ritual, model, example, some sort of mooring and external standard, became so necessary. During the process of growth a bandage is not needed. "Confessionalism of custom and routine" [bytovoe ispovednichestvo] is a sign of weakness and decline, not strength and faith.

The seventeenth century was a "critical," not an "organic" epoch in Russian history. It was a century of lost equilibrium; an age of unexpected events and the inconstant; a century of unprecedented and unheard of events; precisely an unaccustomed age (but not one of custom). It was a dramatic century, a century of harsh personalities and colorful characters. Even S.M. Solov'ev 4 describes it as "heroic" [bogatyrskim].

The apparent stagnation during the seventeenth century was not lethargy or anabiosis. It was a feverish sleep, replete with nightmares and visions. Not so much somnolence as panic. Everything had been torn down, everything had been shifted about. The soul itself was somehow displaced. The Russian soul became strange and wandering during the Time of Troubles.

It is completely incorrect to speak of the isolation of Muscovy during the seventeenth century. On the contrary, the century witnessed an encounter and clash with the West and with the East. The historical fabric of Russian life now became particularly confused and varied, and the investigator very often discovers in this fabric completely unexpected strands.

This frightened century ends with an apocalyptical convulsion, with the terrifying approach of apocalyptical fanaticism. Had not the Third Rome in turn suddenly become the Devil's tsardom? Such a suspicion and conclusion marked the outcome and the end of the tsardom of Muscovy. Rupture and spiritual suicide followed. "There will be no new apostasy, for this has been the final Rus'." The outcome of the seventeenth century was flight and a dead end. Yet there was still a more horrible exodus: "the pine coffin" — the smoking log cabin of those who chose self-immolation.

Correction of Books.

Correction of the religious books, that fateful theme for seventeenth century Muscovy, was actually much more difficult and complex than is normally thought. Book correction is linked with the beginning of printing in Muscovy. The discussion ranged over the "correct" edition of books, services, and texts, which had a venerable history and were known not only in a multiplicity of copies from different periods but in a multiplicity of translations. Muscovite editors immediately became drawn into all the contradictions of manuscript tradition. They made numerous and frequent mistakes or went astray, but not only because of their "ignorance." Their mistakes, missteps, and confusions often were caused by real difficulties, although they did not always know and understand exactly where the difficulties lay.

The concept of a "correct" edition is variously understood and ambiguous. The "ancient exemplar" is also an indeterminate quantity. The antiquity of a text and the age of a copy by no means always coincide, and frequently the original form of a text is discovered in, comparatively recent copies. Even the question of the relationship between a Slavonic and a Greek text is not that simple and cannot be reduced to a problem of an "original" and a "translation." Not every Greek text is older or "more original" than every Slavonic one. The most dangerous thing of all is to trust any single manuscript or edition, even though it may be an "ancient" one.

Moscow was not the only place where seventeenth century scholars were unable to reconstruct the history or genealogy of texts. Without a historical stemma (the tree of descent of a text), manuscripts very often seem to display insoluble and inexplicable discrepancies, so that reluctantly a theory of their "corruption" is posed. Compelling haste further complicated the work of these Moscow editors. The books were being "corrected" to meet practical needs and for immediate use. A "standard edition," a reliable and uniform text, had to be immediately produced. "Office" [chin] had to be precisely defined. The notion of "correctness" implied primarily the idea of uniformity.

The choice of copies for comparison is no easy task, and under such hurried conditions the editors had no time to prepare the manuscripts. Because of their ignorance of paleography and language, for all practical purposes Greek manuscripts were inaccessible. Necessity dictated the easiest course: reliance upon printed editions. But in doing so, a new series of difficulties presented itself. In the early years of the century, books of "Lithuanian imprint" were greatly distrusted in Moscow, as were those of the "White Russians" or Cherkassy's whom a council in 1620 6 had decided to rebaptize on the ground that they had been baptized by sprinkling rather than immersion. True, it seems these "Lithuanian" books enjoyed the widest use. In 1628 it was ordered that they should be inventoried in all the churches, in order that they could be replaced by Muscovite editions. "Lithuanian" books owned privately were simply to be confiscated. In December, 1627, Kirill Trankvillion's Commentaries on the Gospel [Uchitel noe Evangelie] was ordered burned by the public hangman, "for the heretical words and composition revealed in the book." Lavrenti Zizani's Catechism, 8 which had just been printed by the Moscow Printing Office, was not released for circulation.

No less caution was exercised in relation to the "new translations" of Greek books (that is, those printed in the "Roman cities," Venice, Lutetia [Paris], and Rome itself), "for if anything new is added to them, we shall not accept them, even though they be printed in the Greek language." Even Greek emigrés, after all, usually warned against these "translations" as corrupt, "for the Papists and the Lutherans have a Greek printing press, and they are daily printing the theological works of the Holy Fathers, and in these books they insert their ferocious poison, their pagan heresy." But from practical necessity, the Moscow editors used these suspect Kievan or "Lithuanian" and Venetian books. For example, Epifanii Slavinetskii 9 openly worked with the late sixteenth century Frankfurt and London editions of the Bible. Not surprisingly such work evoked widespread anxiety in ecclesiastical circles, especially when it led to deviations from customary routine.

The first tragic episode in the history of the liturgical reform during the seventeenth century stands apart from later events. This was the case of Dionisii Zobninovskii, Archimandrite of the Holy Trinity Monastery, 10 and his collaborators, who were condemned in 1618 for "corrupting" books. Not all aspects of this case are clear. It is very difficult to grasp why the editors received such a lacerating and impassioned trial and condemnation. They had been correcting the Prayer Book [Potrebnik], using a method of comparing manuscripts which included Greek manuscripts, although the editors themselves did not know Greek. Only in a very few cases did they use the Greek text and then with the aid of a foreign intermediary. In the majority of cases the "corrections" were directed toward restoring the meaning of a text. The accusation brought against the editors hinged on a single correction. The uncorrected text of the prayer for the blessing of the water at baptism read as follows: "consecrate this water by Thy Holy Spirit and by fire." The editors deleted the final phrase and were accused of not recognizing that the Holy Spirit "is like fire" and wishing to remove fire from the world.

This matter cannot be fully explained by mere ignorance or personal calculations. After all, not only the half educated Loggin and Filaret, 11 the strict legalists, but the entire clergy of Moscow as well as the locum tenens, the metropolitan of Krutitsk 12 aligned themselves against the editors. The learned elder [starets] Antonii Podol'skii 13 wrote a comprehensive dissertation On the illuminating fire [O ogni prosvetitel'nom] against Dionisii in which one can discern distant echoes of Palamite theology. In any case, formal departure from the previous and familiar text was not the sole reason for anxiety. Only during the patriarchate of Filaret 14 did the resolute representations of Patriarch Theophanesls save Dionisii from final condemnation and imprisonment.

The first phase in the work of the Moscow Printing Office was carried on without any definite plan. Books were corrected and printed as need and demand required. Only later, with the accession of Aleksei Mikhailovich (1645), did this work acquire the character of a Church reform. An influential circle of "Zealots" or "Lovers of God" formed around the young tsar. Stefan Vonifat'ev, archpriest of the Annunciation Cathedral and the tsar's confessor 16 and the boyar Fedor Rtishchev 17 were the most prominent among them. The circle had worked out a coherent plan of important ecclesiastical modifications and even reforms. Their plan rested on two central pillars: proper order in the divine service and pastoral instruction. Both purposes required corrected books. Thus book emendation became an organic part of the system of ecclesiastical renaissance.

The Zealots of the capital discovered that the road to regeneration or renewal was a road to the Greeks. In their search for a standard by which to bring a disordered Russian Church into genuine unity, they adhered to the Greek example without, however, distinguishing between the "Greek" past and the seventeenth century present.

During the seventeenth century, Muscovite contact with the Orthodox East once again became vital and constant. Moscow teemed with "Greek" emigrés, sometimes men of high ecclesiastical office. These "Greeks" most commonly came to Moscow seeking gifts and alms. In return they were asked about church services and rules. Many of them were quite talkative, and from their stories it became clear that Greek and Russian rites were quite dissimilar. How this had come about remained unclear.

A tragic and passionate quarrel soon ensued. The Zealots were convinced that the Greek example should be followed. They had a genuine attraction or passion for everything Greek, as did the tsar, whose love combined with his inherent taste for decorous order, for inner and outer precision. 18 From the point of view of religious politics, since "Greek" meant "Orthodox," whatever was Greek automatically came under the dominion of the one Orthodox tsar, who, in a certain sense, became responsible for Greek Orthodoxy. Thus, turning to the Greeks was neither accidental nor sudden.

Kiev assisted in satisfying this interest in "Greeks." "Teachers," monastery elders, and learned Greeks were invited from Kiev "for the correction of Greek Bibles in the Slavonic speech." Epifanii Slavinetskii, 19 Arsenii Satanovskii (1649) 20 and Damaskin Ptitskii (1650) 21 arrived in Moscow at that moment. Simultaneously, Moscow republished such Kievan books as Smotritskii's grammar 22 and even Peter Mogila's Brief Catechism [Malyi katekhizis, 1649]. The so-called fifty-first chapter taken from Mogila's Prayer Book [Trebnik] was included in the Book of the Rudder [Kormchaia kniga, 1649-50].23 During those same years, the Book of Kirill [Kirillova kniga, 1644] 24 was compiled, while the Kievan Book on the faith [Kniga o vere] 25 was republished. Moscow apparently desired to repeat or acquire the Kievan experience in liturgical and book "reform" carried through by Mogila. Earlier, in 1640, Mogila himself had offered to set up a scholarly hospice in Moscow for the Kievan monks from the Bratsk Monastery where they could teach Greek and Slavonic grammar. In any case, the court circle of Zealots had direct connections with Mogila's Kiev. 26 One must remember that all this was taking place during the years when the Ulozhenie 27 was being prepared, at the very height of the effort toward comprehensive reform of the state.

Concurrently, direct relations with the Orthodox East were being developed. But difficulties appeared at once. Even before reaching his destination in the East and the Holy Land, where he had been sent to observe and describe the local Church customs and rituals, Arsenii Sukhanov 28 got into a stormy quarrel with some Greeks in Iasi and came to the conclusion that the Greek "differences" in rites signified their apostasy from the faith. Meanwhile, the Greeks on Mount Athos burned Russian books.

Another Arsenii, known as "the Greek," 29 who had been left in Moscow by Patriarch Paisios 30 as a "teacher," turned out to have been a student at the College of St. Athanasius in Rome and at one time a Uniate, who then became or pretended to be a Moslem [basurmanin] because of the Turks. He was exiled to Solovki. Subsequently this uneasy connection between "Greek" and "Latin" frequently came to light.

Initiative in Church reform came from the tsar in the face of restrained but stubborn opposition from the patriarch. Soon the eastern patriarchs found themselves questioned as the highest authority of appeal. Thus, in 1651, singing in one voice [edinoglasie] in the liturgy was introduced in accordance with the response and testimony of the patriarch of Constantinople. This decision not only reversed Russian tradition but also overturned a recent decision made by a Church council held in Moscow in 1649, when the proposal was first advanced. The introduction of singing in one voice was not merely a disciplinary measure or a question of liturgical propriety. It was a reform of music or chant, a transition from multi-part singing [razdelnorechnoe] to joint singing [narechnoe], which demanded and presupposed a very difficult reworking of all musical notation as well as a new relationship between text and music.

Nikon, who became patriarch in 1652, did not initiate or conceive this effort at aligning ritual and custom with Greek practices. The "reform" had been devised and decided upon at court. Nikon was brought in on a going concern; he was introduced and initiated into previously prepared plans. However, he invested all the ardor of his stormy and impetuous personality into the execution of these reformation plans, so that his name has become forever linked with this attempt to Hellenize the Russian Church in every aspect of its customs and organization. This "Nikonian" reform combined two motifs: rectification of ecclesiastical error and conformity with the Greeks. And the "reform" took such a turn that the second theme became the major one. It appeared that precisely such a strict and uniform order of service might most quickly arrest any nascent "wavering" of peace. Authoritative decree and strict statute seemed the best guarantee in the struggle against diversity and discord.

In sum, a profound and complex cultural and historical perspective stands revealed behind these literary and liturgical reforms.

Patriarch Nikon.

Even during Nikon's lifetime (1605-1681) contemporaries spoke and wrote a good deal about him. Rarely has anyone written disinterestedly and dispassionately or without any ulterior motive and preconceived aim. Nikon is the subject of arguments, reassessments, justifications, or condemnations. His name (no longer a name but a sign or symbol) remains a pretext for dispute and acrimony. Nikon belongs to that strange class of people who possess no personality but only a temperament. In place of a personality they offer only an idea or program. The secret of Nikon's personality lies entirely in his temperament: hence his horizons remained forever narrow. Not only did he lack a sense of history, but he often failed to exercise ordinary tact and circumspection. He had a will to history, a great presence of mind or "commanding vision" which explains how he could become a great historical figure, despite the fact that he was not a great man. Nikon was powerful, but he did not crave power, and his abrupt and stubborn nature prevented him from being a courtier. The possibility for action attracted him; power had no such allure. Nikon was a man of action, not a creative individual. Of course "reform of ritual" did not provide the vital theme in Nikon's life. Such reform had been suggested to him and had been placed on the agenda before his appointment. However persistently he may have carried through this reform, he never became consumed or absorbed by it. To begin with, he did not understand Greek. He never mastered it and scarcely even studied it. His admiration for everything "Greek" was dilettantish. Nikon had an almost pathological urge to remake and refashion everything in the Greek image similar to Peter the Great's passion for dressing everyone and everything up in the German or Dutch style. The two men were also united by the uncanny ease, with which they could break with the past, by their surprising freedom from Russian customs and by their purposefulness and determination. Nikon listened to the Greek hierarchs and monks with the same precipitate credulity which Peter exhibited before his "European" advisers.

Yet Nikon's "Grecophilism" did not signify any broadening of his ecumenical horizons. No few new impressions were present but certainly no new ideas. Imitation of contemporary Greeks could hardly lead to a recovery of lost tradition. Nikon's Grecophilism did not mark a return to patristic tradition or even serve to revive Byzantinism. He was attracted to the "Greek" service by its great dignity, solemnity, sumptuousness, splendor, and visual magnificence, His reform of ritual took its departure from this "solemn" point of view.

At the very start of his activity as a reformer (1655), Nikon submitted to Patriarch Paisios of Constantinople a long list of perplexing points concerning ritual. He received a comprehensive reply written by Meletios Syrigos. 31 Syrigos frankly and clearly expressed the view that only central and essential matters of faith required uniformity and unity, while diversity and differences in the "ecclesiastical ceremonies" [chinoposledovanii] and in the formal aspects of the liturgy were perfectly tolerable, and indeed historically inevitable, After all, ceremony and liturgical regulation only gradually became intertwined. They had not been created at a single stroke. And a great deal in the Church ceremony depended upon the "pleasure of the superior."

One should not conclude that our Orthodox faith is being perverted if some possess a Church ceremony which differs slightly in inessentials but not in the articles of faith, if on the central and essential matter conformity with the Catholic Church is preserved.

Not all "Greeks" thought in those terms. Moreover, Moscow did not heed this Greek advice. Such strictures by the patriarch of Constantinople fell most heavily on another eastern patriarch, Makarios of Antioch, 32 who with considerable enthusiasm and notable self satisfaction had indicated all the "differences" to Nikon and had inspired him to undertake hasty "corrections" Apparently it was Makarios who revealed that making the sign of the cross with two fingers-was an "Armenian" heresy. And it was this "Nestorian" sign of the cross which visiting hierarchs had anathematized in Moscow on Orthodox Sunday, 1656. 33

Nikon "corrected" the rites according to a printed contemporary Greek Euchologion, 34 in order to achieve conformity with Greek practice. Such actions did not signify a return to "antiquity" or to "tradition," although it was supposed that whatever was "Greek" was more ancient and more traditional. Nikon adhered to the same system when correcting books. A newly printed Greek book usually served as the basis for a new Slavonic text. True, variants and parallelisms in the manuscripts were then compared with it, but only a printed text could assure genuine uniformity. Nevertheless, discernable discrepancies appeared in various editions of the same book, for new manuscript material was being employed throughout the work.

Six editions of Nikon's service books have been forcibly distributed throughout the Russian realm; and all these service books disagree among themselves and no one book agrees with any other.

Quite legitimately opponents of Nikon's reform insisted that the new books were fashioned from "the Greek books newly printed among the Germans" (i.e., in the West), from defective and discarded books: "and we will not accept this innovation." Moreover, it was also true that some rites were "transformed" or taken "from Polish service books," such as the "Polish prayer books of Peter Mogila and other Latin translations." The manuscripts brought by Sukhanov from the East were not, and could not be, extensively utilized or given the necessary attention. However, it was the abrupt and indiscriminate rejection of all Old Russian ceremony and ritual which gave Nikon's reforms their sharp quality. Not only were those rites replaced by the new ones, but they were declared false and heretical, almost ungodly. Such actions disturbed and wounded the national conscience. In fury and defiance, and moreover in a language not his own, Nikon hurled out a censure of the "old ritual." After Nikon was deposed, Russian authorities spoke reservedly and cautiously about the "old rite." This was true even at the Council of 1666. 35 For Nikon the reform was precisely a ritual or ceremonial reform, and he insisted upon it primarily for the sake of propriety or in the name of obedience. But by then a new motif had been introduced by the "Greeks." Greeks suggested and contrived the resolutions and the "curses" at the Great Council of 1667. 36 Fourteen of the thirty bishops attending the Council were foreigners. The "easterners" at the Council portrayed themselves and behaved as "ecumenical judges" invited and acknowledged as arbiters of every aspect of Russian life. They were the ones who affirmed the notion that Russia's "old ritual" was a "senseless subtlety" and even heresy. "Kievans" such as Simeon of Polotsk 37 joined the "Greeks" in this scornful judgment.

The book concerning the differences in rites compiled for the Council by Dionysios, a Greek archimandrite from Mount Athos, 38 is particularly significant and characteristic. Dionysios had lived for many years in Moscow, where he worked on the book corrections at the Moscow Printing Office. He flatly asserted that Russian books became contaminated and perverted the moment Russian metropolitans ceased to be appointed by Constantinople.

And from this began the infatuation with the sign of the cross, the addition to the creed, the alleluias, and the rest. Overgrown with tares and other wild weeds, this land has remained unploughed and has been overshadowed by darkness.

Moreover, Dionysios insisted that all such Russian additions and differences possessed a heretical tinge: "These disagreements and infatuations derive from certain heretics, who had parted ways with the Greeks and, because of their sophistry, did not consult with them about anything." The "Great Council" decided matters in a style similar to that of Dionysios, often using his own words. At this council, Old Russian ritual was declared suspect, condemned utterly, and forbidden under terrible penalties. The contemporary ritual of the eastern churches was indicated as the model and standard.

The anathemas of the Stoglav Council were rescinded and dissolved, "and that Council was no council, its curses were not curses, and we consider it as nothing, as if it had never existed, for Metropolitan Makarii and those with him recklessly feigned wisdom in their ignorance." 39 Thus, Russian Church tradition was judged and condemned as ignorance and feigned wisdom or as sophistry and heresy. Under the pretext of establishing the fullness of the universal Church, Old Russia was replaced by modern Greece. This outlook did not represent the opinion of the Greek Church, only the views of some itinerant "Greek" hierarchs. It served as the final act for Nikon's reforms.

Yet this same council, called for that very purpose, deposed and ejected Nikon. Among other accusations, Nikon was charged with violating and corrupting ancient customs and introducing "new books and rituals" (according to the testimony of Paisios Ligarides). 40 Nikon replied by upbraiding his Greek accusers for introducing new laws from "rejected and unexamined books" (he had in mind the new editions of Greek books). Thus, once again books were the question.

Nikon's trial entangled personal passions with malice and deceit and cunning with agitated ideas and troubled conscience. "Priesthood" [sviashchenstvo] stood trial: such was the theme of Nikon's life.

According to Iurii Samarin, 41 "the scepter of papism lay concealed behind Nikon's enormous shadow." Yet this is hardly true, for the reverse is more nearly the case. The Nikon affair marks the advance of "Empire." Nikon was right, when in his "Refutation" [Razorenie] 42 he accused Tsar Aleksei and his government of attacking the freedom and independence of the Church. Such encroachment could be detected in the Code [Ulozhenie] which Nikon considered diabolical and the false law of the Antichrist. The emphatic "Erastianism" 43 in leading governmental circles forced Nikon into battle, and that fact largely explains his abrasiveness and "love of power."

As with his other ideas, Nikon found his conception of the priesthood in patristic teaching, especially in that of Chrysostom. Apparently he wished to repeat Chrysostom in life. Perhaps he did not always express this idea successfully or cautiously and on occasion used "western definitions," but he did not exceed the limits of patristic opinion by asserting that the "priesthood" is higher than the "tsardom." On this point he was opposed not only by the Greeks, those "Asiatic emigrants and sycophants from Athos," who defended tsardom against priesthood. He was attacked as well by the Old Ritualists [Staroobriadtsy], the partisans of Russian tradition, for whom the "Kingdom of God" was achieved within the tsardom rather than within the Church. Therein lies the theme of the Schism: not "old ritual" but the "Kingdom."

The Schism.

Kostomarov 44 once rightly noted that the "Schism hunted for tradition and attempted to adhere as closely as possible to it; yet the Schism was a new phenomenon, not the old life." Therein lies the Schism's fatal paradox: it did not embody the past, but rather a dream about Old Russia. The Schism represents mourning for an unrealized and unrealizable dream. The "Old Believer" [Starover] is a very new spiritual type.

Division and split wholly constitute the Schism. Born in disillusionment, it lived and was nourished by this feeling of loss and deprivation, not by any feeling of power and possession. Possessing nothing, losing everything, the Schism, more with nostalgia and torment than with routine and custom, could only wait and thirst, flee and escape. The Schism was excessively dreamy, suspicious, and restive. There is something romantic about the Schism, hence its attraction for many Russian Neo-Romantics and Decadents.

The Schism, consumed by memories and premonitions, possessed a past and a future but no present. For their "blue flower" [goluboitsvetok] 45 the Old Believers possessed the semi-legendary Invisible City of Kitezh 46 The Schism's strength did not spring from the soil but from the will; not from stagnation but from ecstasy. The Schism marks the first paroxysm of Russia's rootlessness, rupture of conciliarity, [sobornost'], and exodus from history.

The keynote and secret of Russia's Schism was not "ritual" but the Antichrist, and thus it may be termed a socio-apocalyptical utopia. The entire meaning and pathos of the first schismatic opposition lies in its underlying apocalyptical intuition ("the time draws near"), rather than in any "blind" attachment to specific rites or petty details of custom. The entire first generation of raskolouchitelei ["schismatic teachers"] lived in this atmosphere of visions, signs, and premonitions, of miracles, prophecies, and illusions. These men were filled with ecstasy or possessed, rather than pedants: "We saw that it was as if winter was of a mind to come; our hearts froze, our limbs shivered" (Avvakum) One has only to read the words of Avvakum, breathless with excitement: "What Christ is this? He is not near; only hosts of demons." Not only Avvakum felt that the "Nikon" Church had become a den of thieves. Such a mood became universal in the Schism: "the censer is useless, the offering abominable."

The Schism, an outburst of a socio-political hostility and opposition, was a social movement, but one derived from religious self-consciousness. It is precisely this apocalyptical perception of what has taken place, which explains the decisive or rapid estrangement among the Schismatics. "Fanaticism in panic" is Kliuchevskii's definition, but it was also panic in the face of "the last apostasy."

How was such a mood created and developed? What inspired and justified the hopeless eschatological diagnosis that "the present Church is not a church; the Holy Sacraments are not sacraments; Baptism is not baptism; the Scriptures are a seduction teaching is false; and everything is foul and impious?" Rozanov 47 once wrote that "the Typicon of salvation provides the mystery of the Schism, its central nerve, and tortured thirst." Might it not be better to say: "Salvation is the Typicon?" Not merely in the sense that the Typicon as a book is necessary and needed for salvation, but because salvation is a Typicon, that is, a sacred rhythm and order, rite or ritual, a ritual of life, the visible beauty and well-being of custom. This religious design supplies the basic assumption and source for the Old Believer's disenchantment.

The Schism dreamed of an actual, earthly City: a theocratic utopia and chiliasm. It was hoped that the dream had already been fulfilled and that the "Kingdom of God" had been realized as the Muscovite State. There may be four patriarchs in the East, but the one and only Orthodox tsar is in Moscow 49 But now even this expectation had been deceived and shattered. Nikon's "apostasy" did not disturb the Old Believers nearly as much as did the tsar's apostasy, which in their opinion imparted a final apocalyptical hopelessness to the entire conflict.

At this time there is no tsar. One Orthodox tsar had remained on earth, and whilst he was unaware, the western heretics, like dark clouds, extinguished this Christian sun. Does this not, beloved, clearly prove that the Antichrist's deceit is showing its mask? 50

History was at an end. More precisely, sacred history had come to an end; it had ceased to be sacred and had become without Grace. Henceforth the world would seem empty, abandoned, forsaken by God, and it would remain so. One would be forced to withdraw from history into the wilderness. Evil had triumphed in history. Truth had retreated into the bright heavens, while the Holy Kingdom had become the tsardom of the Antichrist.

A public debate about the Antichrist had been present from the outset of the Schism. Some immediately detected the coming Antichrist in Nikon or in the tsar. Others were more cautious. "They do his work even now but the last devil has not yet to come" (Avvakum) At the end of the century the teaching of a "mental" or spiritual Antichrist became established. The Antichrist had come, but he exercised his rule invisibly. No visible coming would occur in the future. The Antichrist is a symbolic, but not a "real" person. The Scripture must be interpreted as a mystery. "When the hidden mysteries are spoken, the mystery is to be understood with the mind and not with the senses." A new account is now present. The Antichrist stands revealed within the Church. "With impiety he has entered into the chalice and is now being proclaimed God and the Lamb." 51

Yet the diagnosis, the "approach of the last apostasy," did not change. Disruption of the priesthood in Nikon's Church, cessation of its sacraments, diminution of Grace served as the first conclusion from such a diagnosis. However, the disruption of the priesthood by Nikon's followers meant an end to the priesthood generally, even among the adherents of the Schism. No source could "revive" this diminished Grace. A "fugitive priesthood" [begstvuiushchee sviashchentsvo] did not resolve the problem, while ritual purification taken by "fugitive priests" implied that a genuine and unexhausted priesthood existed among the followers of Nikon. Disagreements and debate about the priesthood developed very early in the Schism. Comparatively quickly the "priestly" [popovtsy] and the "priestless" [bezpopovtsy] diverged and divided. 52

The priestless segment was magistral. Compromises and concessions were not that significant, and only the priestless carried their ideas to a logical conclusion. The priesthood ended with the coming of the Antichrist. Grace withdrew from the world, and the earthly Church entered upon a new form of existence: priestlessness and absence of sacraments. Priesthood was not denied, but eschatological diagnosis acknowledged the mysterious fact or catastrophe that the priesthood had withered away. Not everyone accepted this conclusion. Varying estimates were made about the degree of the coming lack of Grace. After all, if necessary, even laymen could baptize (and "rebaptize" or "correct"), but could baptism be complete without the chrism? In any case, the Eucharist was impossible: "according to theological calculation, at the fulfillment of 666 years, the sacrifice and sacrament will be taken away." Confession was scarcely possible. Since no one could give absolution, it was more prudent to settle for mutual forgiveness. Marriage generated particularly violent quarrels. Could marriage still be permitted as a "sacrament?" Was a pure marriage or a pure bed possible without priestly blessing? Moreover, should one marry during these terrible days of the Antichrist, when it was more fitting to be with the wise virgins? The "anti-marriage" decision possessed a certain boldness and consistency. A more general question arose about how the liturgy could be conducted without priests. Was it permissible in case of necessity for unordained laymen and monks to perform or consummate certain sacraments? How should one proceed? Should ancient services and rituals be preserved untouched and unaltered? Could the liturgy be performed by unordained laymen by virtue of some "spiritual" priesthood? Or would it be safer to submit and be reconciled to the fact that Grace was gone?

The so-called "negativist" movement [netovshchina], that maximalism of apocalyptical rejection, provided the most extreme conclusion: Grace had been completely and utterly withdrawn. Therefore, not only could the sacraments not be performed, but the divine liturgy as a whole could not be conducted in accordance with the service manuals. Oral prayer, or even breathing, was inappropriate, for everything, including running water, had been profaned. Salvation now would come not by Grace or even by faith, but through hope and lamentation. Tears were substituted for communion.

The Schism created a new antinomy. Once Grace had been withdrawn, everything depended on man, on works or continence. Eschatological fright and apocalyptical fear suddenly became transformed into a form of humanism, self-reliance, or practical Pelagianism. 53 Ritual took on particular importance during this exceptional moment of withdrawal. Only custom and ritual remained when Grace departed and the sacraments lost their potency. Everything became dependent upon works, for only works were possible. The unexpected participation of the Old Believers in worldly affairs, their zeal for custom (as an experiment in salvation through the relics of traditional life) derives from this necessary dependence on works. The Schism made its peace with the vanishing of Grace only to clutch at ritual with still greater frenzy and stubbornness. Grace had been extinguished and diminished, but the Schism tried to replace it with human zeal. By doing so, the Schism betrayed itself, prizing ritual more highly than sacrament and overestimating its value. Enduring life without Grace was easier than enduring a new ritual. The Schism attached a certain independent primary value to the "office" and "regulation." Even when in flight from the Antichrist, the dissenters strove to organize an ideal society, although doubts were raised in some quarters about the possibility of doing so during the days of the last apostasy. The Schism withdrew to the wilderness, making an exodus from history and settling beyond its frontiers. "For God dwells only in the wilderness and the hermitages; there He has turned His face."

The Schism always organized itself as a monastery, as "communities" and "hermitages," and strove to be a final monastery or refuge amidst a corrupt and perishing world. The Vyg experiment — the Thebaid and "pious Utopia of the Schism" — is especially characteristic. The Vyg community was built by the second generation of Old Believers on the principle of the strictest communism (so that no one had a penny to his name) and in a mood of eschatological concentration: "care nothing about earthly things, for the Lord is near the gates." This community probably represents the high point in the history of the Schism.

For in this Vyg wilderness preachers orated, wise Platos shone forth, glorious Demostheneses appeared, pleasant men as sweet as Socrates were to be found, and men braveas Achilles were discovered. 54

The Vyg community was not merely a significant commercial and industrial center (Peter the Great highly valued the work of the Vyg settlers at the mines in Povenets and Olonets). The Vyg "panwilderness assembly" was actually a great cultural center, particularly during the lifetime of Andrei Denisov, who is described as "clever and sweet in word," and certainly the most sophisticated and cultured of all the writers and theologians during the early years of the Schism. Denisov 55 was consumed by the Apocalypse. 56 Yet he did not thereby lose his clarity of thought, and one can detect in him a great intellectual temperament. Denisov was not merely well read; he must be recognized as a theologian. His Pomorskie otvety ["Replies of the Shore Dwellers"] is a theological work and an intelligent one. Vyg possessed a well assembled and magnificent library where Old Believers studied the Scriptures, the Fathers, and the "literary sciences." Andrei Denisov himself "abridged the philosophy and theory of Ramon Lull" (a very popular book judging by the number of copies which have been preserved). 57 It is particularly interesting that the Denisov brothers, Andrei and Semen, set about assiduously reworking the Great Reading Compendium or Menologos [Velikie chet'i minei] 58 as a counterweight to the agiographic labors of Dimitrii of Rostov, who borrowed heavily from western books. 59 The Vyg scholars also worked on liturgical books. Vyg housed ateliers for painting icons and contained other workshops.

One is least justified in speaking of the "well-fed ignorance" among the Vyg Old Believers. Their community was a center in the wilderness. Still, Vyg was only a refuge, where its members for a time might be concealed from impending wrath and live in impatient expectation of the last moment. All their business skill and "religio-democratic pathos" derived from this sense of having abandoned the world. In the absence of Grace, the priestless Old Believer knew that he depended only on himself and had to be self-reliant. The Vyg Old Believers took a quiet departure from history.

The "newly discovered path of suicidal deaths" served as another, more violent escape. Preaching in favor of suicide combined several motifs: ascetic mortification (for example, the flagellants, [zaposhchevantsy]), the "fear of the Antichrist's temptation," the idea of baptism by fire ("everyone is begging for a second, unprofaned baptism by fire," relates the Tiumen' priest Dometian, 1679). 60 Such innovative preaching produced horror and disgust among many Old Believers. The elder Evfrosin's "Epistle of Refutation" [Otrazitelnoe pisanie, 1691] 61 is particularly important in this regard. Nevertheless, Avvakum praised the first suicides by fire when he said "blessed is this desire for the Lord." His authority was constantly cited. "The notion of suicidal death was first expounded by the disciples of Kapiton. Such men conceived this evil practice prior to the immolations among the Viazniki and Ponizov'e" (Evfrosin) Kapiton was a crude fanatic who kept rigorous fasts and wore chains. In 1665 an investigation was ordered into his "knavery" and "fanaticism." However, his disciples and "fellow fasters," known as the "Godless hermits" [Bogomerzkie pustynniki], continued their fanatical practices. Preaching in favor of fasting unto death began in the conditions arising from such ascetic flagellation and fanaticism.

Yet other arguments were soon advanced. Vasilii the Hirsute (Volosatyi), acclaimed "legislator of suicides," "did not preach confession or repentance, but entrusted all things to fire: cleanse yourselves from all sin by fire and fasting, thereby being baptized with a true baptism." He did not preach this message in isolation. A certain priest called Aleksandrishche insisted that "in this age Christ is unmerciful; He will not accept those who come without repentance." One foreigner by the name of Vavila 62 belonged to the early "Kapitons." The Russian Vinyard [ilinograd rossiiski] describes him as a man "of a foreign race, of the Lutheran faith accomplished in all the arts, who had studied many years in the celebrated Academy of Paris, knew many languages well and how to speak most beautifully." 63 Vavila arrived in Russia in the 1630's converted to Orthodoxy, "proving to be of perfect diamond hard endurance." It was not so important that in their enthusiasm some "Godless hermits" determined to commit suicide. More important is the fact that many different strata of the Old Believer movement quickly seized upon their fanatical ideas. This "death bearing disease" rapidly became something approaching a dreadful mystical epidemic, a symptom of apocalyptical terror and hopelessness. "Death, death alone can save us." The Vyg community had been founded by the disciples of the self-immolators and dwellers along the shores of the White Sea.

The feeling of alienation and self-imprisonment entirely constituted the Schism, which sought exclusion from history and life. The Schism cut its ties, wishing to escape, not in order to return to tradition or to a fuller existence, but as an apocalyptical rupture and seduction. The Schism was a grievous spiritual disease. It was possessed. The horizon of the Old Believers was narrow: the Schism became a Russian Donatism. 64 In that regard, it is appropriate to recall the words of St. Augustine, "The field is the world and not Africa. The harvest is the end of the world-not the time of Donatus." 65

Kievan Learning in Muscovy.

Following the Time of Troubles, foreign participation in Russian life became more and more perceptible. "After the years of the Troubles [foreigners] ranged so widely throughout Muscovy that every Russian became familiar with them" (Platonov) 66 Such contacts were no longer confined to skilled artisans and soldiers, or to merchants and traders. Foreigners are encountered where one least expects to find them. Under B.M. Khitrovo's administration of the Armory, "German" (i.e. western European) artists painted western style portraiture and icons as well. By the mid-seventeenth century, the influence of western engravings on Russian iconography had become so strong that Nikon was compelled to confiscate these profane "Frankish" icons. Their owners gave them up with obvious reluctance, so quickly had they become accustomed and attached to them. At one with Nikon on this point, Avvakum was disturbed by icons, which were "incompatible with Church tradition." But the artists were unwilling to give up their beloved "Franks." 67 By the end of the century, churches, notably in Iaroslavl' and Vologda, were being entirely decorated with "foreign art," usually in imitation of such Dutch engravings as those found in the illuminated columns of Johann Piscator's famous Theatrum Biblicum,68 a battered copy of which could be found in a damp corner of the bell tower of some local church with some frequency.

Church singing supplies a further example of profound western influence. "Polish" choir singing "in harmony with the organ" existed in the St. Andrew Monastery under Fedor Rtishchev's 69 direction and in the New Jerusalem (Voskresenskii) Monastery supervised by Nikon. 70 For his choir, Nikon acquired the compositions of Marcin Mielczewski, the famous director of the Rorantist chapel in Cracow. 71 As Avvakum reports, "They observe Latin rules and regulations, they wave their hands, shaking their heads and stamping their feet to the accompaniment of the organ as is the custom among the Latins."

During the reign of Tsar Fedor, the Polish "foreigner" N.P. Diletskii, who was invited to organize Church singing, quite openly introduced the theory and practice "of Roman Church composers." 72 Diletskii exercised considerable influence in Moscow where he created a complete "western" school of music. 73 These are not random or disconnected facts, but a group of interrelated phenomena. The fact that during the seventeenth century various western features and details figured in Muscovite usage is not as important as the fact that the actual style or "ritual" of life was changing. Psychological habits and needs gave way to a new politesse. Western influences, derived largely from Kiev, grew steadily stronger. "The West Russian monk educated in a Latin school or in one modelled on it in Russia served as the first disseminator of western learning to be invited to Moscow" (Kliuchevskii).

However, the first generation of "Kievan elders" called to the north were still not westerners. Epifanii Slavinetskii, the most prominent among them, combined scholarship and love for education with a true monastic humility and piety. He was more at home in a monk's cell or study than in society. Less a thinker than a bibliophile, philologist, and translator, he was — according to his disciple Evfimii — "not only a judicious man and very learned in rhetoric and grammar, but he was also a renowned investigator of philosophy and theology as well as a formidable opponent in matters of the Greek, Latin, Slavonic, and Polish languages." Slavinetskii had been summoned to Moscow as a translator rather than "for the teaching of rhetoric." He translated a good deal, including parts of the Bible (particularly the New Testament), liturgical manuals, the Fathers, and even some secular works such as a book on medical anatomy written in Latin and based on the writings of Andreas Vesalius of Brussels. 74 Epifanii had a superb command of Greek, although it is not known where he studied it, and he typifies the erudite humanist of the time. He usually worked from western printed editions and not from manuscripts. Apparently in his youth he became enraptured with "Latin wisdom," but by deepening his Greek studies he resisted being seduced. Later he bluntly condemned "Latin syllogisms." 75 In any case, Epifanii trained his most prominent pupil, Evfimii, a monk of the Chudov Monastery, in a pure, almost fanatical Hellenism. Both student and teacher became literary captives of the Greeks, and they translated, as Fedor Polikarpov put it, in an "unusual Slavonic style which sounded more like Greek." 76

The later Kievan and "Lithuanian" emigrants had a very different spirit and style. Simeon of Polotsk (Sitianovich, 1629-1680) was the most typical and influential among them. A rather common, if well read and bookish West Russian, Simeon was clever, resourceful, and quarrelsome in everyday matters. He knew how to rise high and securely in the confused Muscovite society at the time of his arrival in 1663. More precisely, he rose at court, where he served as a poet, versifier, and as an educated man capable of performing any task. At first he worked as a teacher for servitors in government departments. Inescapably, he relied on Alvarius' grammar. 77 Later he became the tutor for the tsareviches, Aleksei and Fedor, composed speeches for the tsar, and wrote solemn official declarations. He was entrusted with the "arrangement" of the agenda for the councils of 1666 and 1667 and instructed to translate Paisios Ligarides' polemical tracts. His own treatise against the Old Believers, The Scepter of Government [Zhezl pravleniia] proved of little worth, ladened as it was by scholastic and rhetorical arguments which could scarcely be convincing to those for whom the book was written. Simeon of Polotsk was pompous and arrogant, rhetorical and verbose, as his two volumes of sermons The Spiritual Feast [Obed dushevnyi] and The Spiritual Supper [Vecheria dushevnaia] testify. Both volumes were published in 1682-1683, shortly after his death.

Simeon of Polotsk's notebooks illustrate how he reworked Latin books of such authors as Johann Meffret of Meissen, a fifteenth century preacher, whose book on the Church, Hortulus reginae, Tsar Aleksei had given to Arsenii Satanovskii for translation in 1652; Johannes Faber, Bishop of Vienna (1531), known as Malleus Haereticorum from his book against Luther; 78 the fifteenth century Spanish theologian Juan Cartagena, who had written on the sacraments of the Christian faith; 79 as well as Bellarmine, Gerson, Caesar Baronius, Peter Besse, Alfonso Salmeron, and Juan Perez de Pineda. 80

In preparing his own textbooks, Simeon relied on Latin works. Thus his book on Gospel history The Life and Teaching of Christ Our Lord and God [Zhitie i uchenie Khrista Gospoda i Boga nashego] which abridged the work of Gerald Mercator and was supplemented by additions from the writings of Henry More, the celebrated Cambridge Platonist. 81 In his own way, Simeon of Polotsk was pious and upright, but the prayers he composed appeared bombastic. He developed only a knowledge of Latin and obviously knew no Greek ("he knew less than nothing"). "Unable to read Greek books, he read only Latin ones and believed only Latin innovations in thought to be correct" (Osten) 82 His work was always guided by Latin and Polish books, that is, "by the thoughts of men like Scotus, Aquinas, and Anselm." Simeon's opponents rightly made these accusations. He was more at ease with the Latin Bible than the Slavonic one.

A "Belorussian" by birth, apparently he studied in Kiev where he became a student of Lazar Baranovich, with whom Simeon remained close for the rest of his life. 83 Baranovich gave Simeon a letter of introduction to Paisios Ligarides, when Simeon went north to Moscow. During Nikon's trial, Simeon became particularly intimate with Paisios, serving as his interpreter. Of course, he translated from Latin.

Paisios Ligarides (1609-1678) is a very instructive example of the perplexing state of affairs prevailing in seventeenth century Muscovy. A graduate of the College of St. Athanasius, where he brilliantly distinguished himself, he was ordained in Rome by the West Russian Uniate Metropolitan, Rafail Korsak. 84 In his estimation and report, Leo Allatius, a dignitary of St. Athanasius, 85 declared that Paisios was "a man prepared to lay down his life and give up his soul for the Catholic faith." Paisios returned to the Levant as a missionary. The Propaganda Fide also later sent him to Wallachia. There, however, he made a close acquaintance with Patriarch Paisios of Jerusalem and accompanied him to Palestine. Soon afterward he became Orthodox metropolitan of Gaza. All this time Ligarides played a dual role. Greed served as his guiding passion. He tried to convince the Propaganda Fide of his fidelity and asked that his suspended missionary stipend be restored. No one believed him. The Orthodox also distrusted Ligarides, seeing in him a dangerous papist. He soon fell under a ban and was still under it when he arrived in Moscow. When asked about Ligarides during Nikon's trial in Moscow, Patriarch Dionysios of Constantinople replied that "Ligarides' scepter is not from the throne of Constantinople, and I do not consider him Orthodox, for I hear from many that he is a papist and a deceiver." 87 Nevertheless, he played a decisive role at the Great Council of 1667. The boyar party used him to secure their ecclesiastical and social position and their program (known as the "questions of Streshnev"). 88 Nikon was not entirely wrong when in reply he dubbed the tsar a "Latinizer" and the boyars and hierarchs "worshippers of Latin dogmas." In any case, the obvious Latins, Simeon and Paisios, spoke for them.

The new western orientation took shape at court. Tsar Aleksei's son and successor had been wholly educated "in the Polish manner." A revolution or turning point had become obvious. Disagreements were apparent since the turn of the century. As Ivan Timofeev noted very early, "Some look East, others West." 89 Many tried to look both ways. As western influence grew, anxiety about it increased as well. By the end of the century, a public quarrel had broken out.

Characteristically, the pretext for the debate came as a result of a disagreement on the question of the moment the Holy Sacraments became transformed during the liturgy. Seemingly, the topic of debate was a limited one, but in reality, despite all the political and personal passions or outright stupidity displayed in the matter, the clash involved basic axioms and principles amounting to a conflict between two religious and cultural tendencies. This side of the debate — the principal side — is by far the more interesting one. The individual arguments put forward by the warring factions are of interest only in so far as they enable one to detect the quarrel's mainsprings.

During the seventeenth century, the western view concerning the transformation of the sacraments during the liturgy, that is, the Words of Institution, became generally accepted and customary in the Russian south and west. 90 Such a view, "derived from newly made Kievan books," spread northward. Simeon of Polotsk, along with his disciple Sil'vestr Medvedev, 91 insistently gave it currency. By 1673 Simeon and Epifanii Slavinetskii had a dispute, or rather a "discourse " [razglagol'stvie] in the presence of the patriarch and other authorities at the Krestyi (Holy Cross) Monastery. Outright quarreling broke out later, after the death of Simeon of Polotsk. The monk Evfimii and the newly arrived Greeks, the "brothers Likhud," entered the lists against Medvedev. 92 Patriarch Ioakim also took their side. 93 The "bread worshipping heresy" [khlebopoklonnaia eres'] served less as a cause than as the excuse for these arguments and conflicts. The actual quarrel centered on the question of Latin or Greek influence.

The Likhud brothers were also men of western education, having studied in Venice and Padua. Quite likely they were connected with the Propaganda Fide in one way or another, but in Moscow they distinguished themselves as opponents of Rome and as principled and informed purveyors of a Greek cultural orientation. 94 Even Evfimii often employed western and Kievan books. For example, his Vumilenie, designed to be used by the priest as a service manual, was composed on the model of Mogila's Prayer Book [Trebnik] and according to the appropriate articles in the Vilna service manual which had also been heavily influenced by Roman Catholicism. However, for all that, he remained an outright Hellenist.

Simeon of Polotsk and Medvedev not only embraced individual "Latin" opinions, but there was also something Latin in their spiritual demeanor and make up. Together they constituted a "Belorussian" element in the schools. The Kievan monks openly supported the Roman cause. 95 Both factions frequently exchanged polemical pamphlets of a serious and substantial sort, despite all their abusive tone and crude methods. The Latin party was conquered and condemned at a Church council held in 1690. The following year, 1691, Medvedev became implicated in the revolt of the streltsy. 96 He was unfrocked and executed. An impartial observer might deem Patriarch Ioakim's harshness somewhat excessive and unfounded. Was it really necessary to fan the flames of this "Sicilian fire" in the "Bread worshipping" controversy? In the first place, the Romanizing side took the initiative, or more precisely, went on the attack, apparently in connection with plans for opening a school or "academy" in Moscow. In the second place, as contemporaries explicitly stated, genuine Roman Catholics played a concealed but a very real part in the conflict.

Juraj Krizanic (1618-1683) 97 did not come to Moscow as an isolated figure. During the 1680's an influential Catholic cell took shape. Although the Jesuits living in Moscow were expelled in 1690 over the "Bread worshipping" controversy, a few years later they renewed and extended their work with undoubted success. As a contemporary wrote, "The Romans use every means to buy their way into the Russian tsardom, and through learning introduce their heresy." Two foreign Catholics occupied very prominent and influential positions in Moscow at the time: the diplomat Pavel Menesius, sent abroad as an envoy to the pope, 98 and the noted general Patrick Gordon. 99 By the century's end, the Jesuits had even opened a school in Moscow for the children of prominent aristocratic families. However, given the nature of the Petrine wars and reforms, such a school had little chance to grow. In any case, this configuration of historical circumstances fully accounts for and explains the "xenophobia" displayed by the last patriarchs, Ioakim and Adrian. 100

By now Moscow was aware that the Russian and Kievan emigrants during their study abroad in local Jesuit schools had become Uniates. Of course, such an act could usually be justifled subsequently on the grounds that they did so with insincerity, "not with the heart, but solely with the lips." However, justifiable doubts lingered about precisely when these emigrants were actually feigning sincerity. Did they accept the Union or reject it? As a contemporary put it, "a Jesuit residue still clung even on those who did not fall away." The deacon Petr Artem'ev converted to Catholicism while accompanying Ioannikii Likhud on a brief trip through Italy. 101 Palladii Rogovskii's fate serves as a characteristic illustration of this problem. At one point, when he was already a monk and a deacon, he fled Moscow, for he had apparently been united with the Roman Church by the local Jesuit mission. Abroad he studied with the Jesuits in Vilna, Neisse, Olomouc and finally at the College of St. Athanasius in Rome, where he was ordained a priest monk or hieromonk. He departed from Rome as a missionary, taking with him a magnificent theological library furnished by the Propaganda Fide and the Duke of Florence. Upon his arrival in Venice, he asked the Greek metropolitan to restore him to Orthodoxy. After returning to Moscow, he addressed a penitential letter to the patriarch. Meanwhile, the Jesuit mission in Moscow continued to regard him as one of their own and sympathized with his delicate position. Ultimately, Palladii regained the confidence of the higher ecclesiastical circles, and after the removal of the Likhud brothers, he was appointed rector of the Academy. 102 Palladii died shortly afterward and did not succeed in exercising any influence on the Academy. His sermons, which have been preserved, provide a picture of his true outlook: he remained fully within the sphere of Roman Catholic doctrine. Palladii merely came first in a long line of such men. During the reign of Peter the Great, this semi-concealed Roman Catholicism inspired the extension of the school network throughout Russia.

Conflicts with Protestants in Moscow had occurred earlier. Most important were the drawn out disputes between Russian plenipotentiaries and Protestant pastors when discussing the proposed marriage of Tsar Mikhail's daughter with the Danish Crown Prince Woldemar in 1644.103 The debate touched with sufficient decisiveness and comprehensiveness on a variety of questions. During the second half of the seventeenth century, a quantity of literary anti-Protestant tracts were in circulation. These works, often derivative or translations, testify to the vital character of the polemic. Some among the emigrants from abroad could with reason and justice be suspected of Calvinist or Lutheran persuasion. Jan Belobodskii, who came from the western borderlands with the aim of acquiring a position in the newly conceived and newly planned academy, may be taken as an illustration. The Latinophile party among Simeon of Polotsk's circle gave him a cool reception and exposed him. The Likhud brothers did the same later.

By the end of the century, the "German suburb" [Nemetskaia sloboda] 104 was no longer so isolated and sealed off. The fantastic affair of Quirinius Kuhlmann, who had first been condemned and denounced by his own followers, provides a further opportunity to peer deeper beneath the surface into the life of this colony or suburb, which contained a variety of religions. Kuhlmann, one of those mystic adventurers, dreamers, or prophets who frequently made their appearance during the Thirty Years War, often journeyed throughout Europe, maintaining close ties with mystical and theosophical circles. He wrote a great deal, and among the authorities on mysticism he revered Jacob Boehme. 105 Kuhlmann's Boehme Resurrected [Neubegeisterter Bohme] appeared in 1674. The intiuence of Jan Comenius' Luxe Tenebris on Kuhlmann should also be noted. 106 He arrived in Moscow rather unexpectedly and began preaching about the thousand year reign of the righteous [monarchia Jesuelitica]. Although he discovered only a small nucleus of followers, he generated great excitement. Along with his adherents, Kuhlmann was accused of freethinking, and in 1689 he and his collaborator Condratius Nordermann were burned to death in Moscow.

Conclusion.

There is no need to exaggerate Muscovite "ignorance" during the seventeenth century. What was lacking was not knowledge, but proper cultural and spiritual perspectives. After mid-century, the issue of schools was posed and resolved. But in the process a debate arose: should these schools have a Slavono-Greek orientation or a Latin one? The question quickly became complicated and intensified through the antagonism displayed by itinerant Greeks and emigrants from Kiev.

Generally speaking, the Kievan emigrants proved superior to these Greek vagrants who frequently sought only adventures and advantages. But the Kievans were willing and able to introduce a fully Latin school both in language and in spirit, whereas the Greeks, even those who were outspokenly Latinophiles, always underscored the decisive importance of Greek. "Having abandoned and neglected Greek-the language from which you acquired enlightenment in the Orthodox faith-you have lost wisdom," declared Paisios Ligarides. True, this was meant as an attack on Russian tradition rather than as an attack on Latin.

In 1680, at the request of Tsar Fedor, 107 Simeon of Polotsk composed a "charter" [privilei] or draft statute founding the Moscow Slavono-Greek Academy, modelled on those in Kiev and on Latin schools in the West. The Academy was to be all-encompassing, providing "all the liberal sciences," from basic grammar "even unto theology, which teaches of divine matters and cleanses the conscience." In addition to "Helleno-Greek" and Slavonic "dialects," not only was Latin to be taught, but Polish as well. Moreover, the Academy was not to be merely a school but a center for directing education and possessing very wide powers in guiding cultural activity in general. It was proposed that the Academy be empowered and charged with the duty to examine foreign scholars for their scholarly competence and for their faith. Of course, books were to be censored. A particularly stern clause in the charter concerned teachers of natural magic and books of divination which are so hateful to God. S.M. Solov'ev108 on this occasion cleverly noted that "this was to be no mere school, but an awesome inquisitorial tribunal with the superintendents and the teachers pronouncing the words: "guilty of unorthodoxy," while lighting the criminal's pyre. . . ." The patriarch greeted Simeon's "charter" with severe criticism and had it reworked from a Hellenistic point of view. Only this reworked text is preserved; one must surmise the character of the original. However, the "charter" never received confirmation. Later, in 1687, the Academy opened rather humbly without a "charter" or statute as the Slavono-Greco-Latin school. The Likhud brothers opened the school and operated it during the first few years. Primarily they taught Greek, followed by rhetoric and philosophy in the usual scholastic manner. The Likhud brothers did not remain until theology could be taught. After their departure, the school became deserted, for there was no one who could replace them. Later, Palladii Rogovskii became the rector and Stefan Iavorskii 109 received the appointment as superintendent.

Particular notice must be given to Metropolitan Iov's educational experiment in Novgorod, 110 where a battle broke out between the Latin "party" and the "eastern" faction (Archimandrite Gavriil Dometskoi and Hierodeacon Damaskin). 111 T'he school in Novgorod had been founded on the Greco-Slavonic model, and the Likhud brothers were summoned there to teach. Latin was not taught at all, thereby emphasizing Novgorod's divergence from Moscow. With the appointment of Feofan Prokopovich 112 as archbishop in Novgorod, these Novgorodian schools were eliminated. The close of the century brought a pseudomorphosis in Muscovite education. Moscow struggled with an incipient Latinophilism coming from Kiev. But nothing among its own defective and disheveled reserves could be used as a counterweight. For all their erudition, the Greeks invited to Russia offered little promise. Kiev emerged victorious.

 

4. The St. Petersburg Revoltuion.

The Character of the Petrine Reforms.

Reform of the church was not an incidental episode in Peter's system of reforms. The opposite is the case. Church reform constituted the principal and the most consequential reform in the general economy of the epoch: a powerful and acute experiment in state-imposed secularization. As Golubinskii once noted, "[it was] so to speak a transfer from the West of the heresy of state and custom." The experiment succeeded. Herein lies the full meaning, novelty, incisiveness, and irreversibility of the Petrine reform. Of course, Peter had "predecessors," and the reform was in "preparation" prior to his reign. Such "preparation," however, is hardly commensurate with the actual reform. Moreover, Peter scarcely resembles those who came before him. The dissimilarity is not confined to temperament or to the fact that Peter "turned to the West." He was neither the first nor the only westerner in Muscovy at the end of the seventeenth century. Muscovite Russia stirred and turned toward the West much earlier. In Moscow Peter encountered an entire generation reared and educated in thoughts about the West, if not in Western thinking. He also found a firmly settled colony of Kievan and "Lithuanian" emigrants and scholars, and in this milieu he discovered an initial sympathy toward his cultural enterprises. What is innovative in this Petrine reform is not westernization but secularization.

In this sense, Peter's reform was not only a turning point, but a revolution. "He produced an actual metamorphosis or transformation in Russia," as one contemporary put it. Such is the way in which the reform was conceived, accepted, and experienced. Peter wanted a break. He had the psychology of a revolutionary and was inclined to exaggerate anything new. He wanted everything to be refurbished and altered until it passed beyond all recognition. He habitually thought (and taught others to think) about the present as a counterpoint to the past. He created and inculcated a revolutionary psychology. The great and genuine Russian schism began with Peter. The schism occurred between church and state, not between the government and the people (as the Slavophiles believed). A certain polarization took place in Russia's spiritual life. In the tension between the twin anchor points — secular life and ecclesiastical life — the Russian spirit stretched and strained to the utmost. Peter's reform signified a displacement or even a rupture in Russia's spiritual depths.

State authority underwent an alteration in its perception of itself and in its self-definition. The state affirmed its own self-satisfaction and confirmed its own sovereign self-sufficiency. And in the name of such primacy and sovereignty, the state not only demanded obedience from the church as well as its subordination, but also sought some way to absorb and include the church within itself; to introduce and incorporate the church within the structure and composition of the state system and routine. The state denied the independence of the church's rights and power, while the very thought of church autonomy was denounced and condemned as "popery." The state affirmed itself as the sole, unconditional, and all-encompassing source of every power and piece of legislation as well as of every deed or creative act. [...].

The acts of the ecumenical councils were also to be employed. Moreover, modern books by non-Orthodox authors could be used on the unswerving condition that Scripture and patristic tradition provide confirmational testimony in the exposition of even those dogmas where no direct disagreement between Orthodox and "non-Orthodox" exists. "However, their arguments are not to be believed lightly, but shall be examined to determine if there is such a phrase in the Scriptures or in the patristic books, and whether it has the same meaning as they assign." Of course Feofan understood "non-Orthodox" to mean "Romanists" and all of his warnings are directed against "Roman" theology. "And a misfortune it is that these gentlemen scholars [panove shkoliariki] cannot even hear papal tidbits without exalting them to be infallible."

Feofan himself profusely and sedulously used "modern" and "non-Orthodox" books, but these were Protestant books. His theological lectures most closely approximate those of Polanus von Polansdorf, the Reformation theologian from Basel.16 One frequently detects the use of Johann Gerhard's compendium Loci communes theologici (first edition Jena, 1610-1622). 17 In the section on the Holy Spirit, Feofan does little but repeat Adam Zernikav. 18 Bellarmine's Disputationes 19 was always ready at his fingertips and not simply to be refuted.

Feofan must be termed an epigon, but he was not a compiler. He fully commanded his material, reworking it and adapting it to his purpose. A well educated man, he moved freely in the contemporary theological literature, especially Protestant writings. He had personal contacts with German theologians. And. it must immediately be added that Feofan did not simply borrow from seventeenth century Protestant scholasticism, he belonged to it. His writings fit integrally into the history of German Reformation theology. If the title of Russian bishop had not appeared on Feofan's "treatises," it would have been most natural to imagine they were written by a professor of some Protestant theological faculty. These books are saturated with a western Reformation spirit. Such a spirit can be detected through out in his turn of mind and choice of words. Feofan stands forth not as a westerner, but as a western man, a foreigner. It is not an accident that he felt more at home with foreigners, foreign pastors, and learned German scholars at the Academy of Sciences. 20 He viewed the Orthodox world as an outsider and imagined it to be a duplicate of Rome. He simply did not experience Orthodoxy, absorbed as he was in western disputes. In those debates he remained to the end allied with the Protestants.

Strictly speaking, Feofan's theological system contained no instruction on the church. The definition of the church which he provides is wholly insufficient.

God desired to unite His faithful, who were established in Christ, as a civil society or republic, which is called the Church — in quadam certum republicam seu civitatem compingere, quae dicitur ecclesia — so that they might better know themselves, give mutual assistance, rejoice, and with God's aid defend themselves against their enemies.

Feofan neither experienced nor noticed the mystical reality of the church. For him the church was merely a union for Christian mutual assistance and identity of outlook. Such an attitude makes comprehensible his entire ecclesiastical-political program and activity.

Feofan begins his system with a treatise on Scripture as the impeccable and wholly self-sufficient primary source of religious instruction. In doing so, he closely follows Gerhard's theological system, whose section on the Scriptures practically replaces the section on the church. Feofan ardently inveighs against Roman Catholic authors, while insisting on the completeness and self-sufficiency of Scripture. Scripture fully contains and utterly exhausts the entirety of all necessary truths and beliefs. In theology, and in faith itself, only Scripture is principium cognoscendi. Scripture alone, as the Word of God, possesses authority. Human thoughts and reflections can achieve no greater force than that of theses or "arguments" and certainly cannot become a standard of "authority." Scriptures are subject to exegesis and analysis. Rather than lower the level of reliability through auxiliary and human commentaries, the most promising method is to use Scripture to interpret itself. The ecumenical councils possess a subordinate right to provide interpretation. Even the consensus patrum is merely humanium testimonium as far as Feofan is concerned. Such testimony represents only an historical witness about the past, about the opinions of the church in a given epoch. Feofan reduces the theologian's function to juxtaposing and arranging texts. In this sense, following his western teachers Feofan speaks of theology's "formal" character and, meaning. For all of his distaste for Roman Catholic "scholasticism," Feofan, like the majority of Protestant theologians during the seventeenth century and earlier (beginning with Melanchthon), remained a scholastic. Despite his great familiarity with "modern" philosophy (he read Descartes, Bacon, Spinoza, Leibniz, and Wolff), Feofan was much closer to Francis Suarez, 21 who had so many Protestant successors. At no point did Feofan leave that entrancing sphere of western academic theological polemic which fossilized the whole tragic problematics of the Reformation debates.

Among Feofan's special "treatises," numbers seven and eight dealing with man innocent and fallen are particularly important and interesting. Feofan wrote another treatise in Russian on this same theme entitled The Dispute of Peter and Pau1 on the Unbearable Yoke. 22 Feofan's teaching about justification in this pamphlet served as the first opportunity for his opponents to speak about his "points contrary to the church," his corruption by "the poison of Calvinism" and his introduction of Reformation subtleties into the Russian world. Such reproaches and suspicions were fully justified. Feofan proceeded from the strictest anthropological permission which explains his tendency as a young man to completely discount any human activity in the process of salvation. Therefore, he limited the significance of theological reflection. Man had been broken and reviled by falling into sin; he had been imprisoned and entangled by sin. Will itself had been incarcerated and deprived of strength. Feofan understood "justification" as a juridical concept — justificatio forensis. Justification is the action of God's grace by which the repentant sinner who believes in Christ is freely accepted by Him and declared righteous. His sins are not attributed to him, but Christ's justice is applied ("gratis justum habet et declarat non imputatis ei peccatis ejus, imputata vero ipsi justitia Christi"). 23 Feofan emphasizes that salvation "is effected" through faith and that human actions have no power to achieve salvation.

There is no need to engage in a detailed analysis of Feofan's system. A general sense for its inner spirit is more important. On that score there can be no debate or hesitation about the proper conclusion: "Feofan was actually a Protestant" (A.V. Kartashev).24 His contemporaries often said so. Feofilakt Lopatinskii, 25 and especially Markell Rodyshevskii, 26 wrote about it. 27 Both suffered cruelly for their boldness. A crafty and clever man, Feofan knew how to parry theological attacks. His pen imperceptibly transformed any expression of disagreement into a political denunciation, and he did not hesitate to transfer theological disputes to the court of the Secret Chancery. The most powerful weapon of self-defense — and the most reliable one — was the reminder that on any given question Peter approved and shared Feofan's opinion. Thus the Monarch's person came under attack, and Feofan's opponent found himself guilty of directly offending His Majesty: a matter subject to investigation and review by the Secret Chancery and not a matter for unimpeded theological discussion.

"Peter the Great, a monarch no less wise than he is powerful, did not recognize any heresy in my sermons." Such a reference to Peter was not simply an evasion, for in reality Peter agreed with Feofan on many points. The struggle with "superstition," begun by Peter himself, was openly proclaimed in the Regulation. Feofan always wrote with a special verve against "superstition." Characteristic in this regard is his tragicomedy Vladimir, Prince and Ruler of the Slavonic-Russian Lands, Brought by the Holy Spirit from the Darkness of Unbelief to the Light of the Gospels. 28 The play is a malicious and spiteful satire on pagan "priests" [zhretsy], and their "superstitions." Transparent references to contemporary life abound. Feofan openly despised the clergy, especially the Great Russian clergy, among whom he always felt a stranger and a foreigner. He was a typical man of the "Enlightenment," who did not conceal his repugnance for ritual, miracles, asceticism, and even the hierarchy. He fought against all such "delusions" with the tenacity of an arrogant rationalist. At any rate, even if he was insincere in this struggle, at least he was forthright. "I despise with the utmost strength of my soul mitres, capes, scepters, candelabra, censers, and other such trifles." True, he made this remark in an intimate letter to a friend. Of course at that time there was a great deal of superstition in Russian life and customs. But Feofan and Peter wished to war upon it not only in the name of the faith, but in the name of common sense and the "general welfare."

Prior to Elizabeth's reign, 29 government authority and even state law extended a certain special and preferential protection to Protestantism. Peter's government, not just from considerations of state uttility and toleration, was very often ready to identify the interests of the Protestants with its own interests, thereby producing the impression that Orthodoxy is a peculiar, moderate, ritualistic Protestantism and that Orthodoxy and Protestantism are equally reconciled ("Facillime le itime ue uniantur" as Feofan's friend, the St. Peterburg academician Kol' wrote in his characteristic book Ecclesia graeca lutheranisans, [Lubeck, 1723]).30 Catherine II later maintained that there is "practically no difference" between Orthodoxy and Lutheranism: ole culte exterieure est tres different, mais l'Eglise s'y voit reduite par rapport a la brutalite du peuple & raquo; During Anna's 31 reign, that is, under Biron, 32 the state pursued a particularly harsh policy toward the church.

They attacked our Orthodox piety and faith, but in such a way and under such a pretext that they seemed to be rooting out some unneeded and harmful superstition in Christianity. O how many clergymen and an even greater number of learned monks were defrocked, tortured and exterminated under that pretense! Why? No answer is heard except: he is a superstitious person, a bigot, a hypocrite, a person unfit for anything. These things were done cunningly and purposefully, so as to extirpate the Orthodox priesthood and replace it with a newly conceived priestlessness [bezpopovshchina].

Such is the Elizabethan preacher Amvrosii Iushkevich's 33 recollection of Anna's reign.

Peter became dissatisfied with Stefan Iavorskii for raising the issue of Tveritinov 34 and for his critical and forthright statement on the points of difference between Orthodoxy and Lutheranism. Rock of Faith [Kamen' very] 35 was not published during Peter's lifetime precisely because of its sharp polemical attacks upon Protestantism. The book was first published in 1728 under the supervision of Feofilakt Lopatinskii and with the permission of the Supreme Privy Council. This edition of the Rock of Faith received many blows in Germany. Buddeus' "apologetic" rebuttal appeared in Jena in 1729. 36 Gossip ascribed this rejoinder to Feofan. Johann Mosheim 37 criticized Rock of Faith in 1731. In Russia, Father Bernardo de Ribera, the household priest of the Spanish envoy Jacobo Francisco, Duke de Liria, came to Iavorskii's defense. The quarrel, becoming evermore entangled and complex, was finally resolved in the Secret Chancery. A decree of 19 August 1732 again suppressed Rock of Faith and removed it from circulation. The entire edition was seized and sealed up.

Our domestic enemies devised a stratagem to undermine the Orthodox faith; they consigned to oblivion religious books already prepared for publication; and they forbade others to be written under penalty of death. They seized not only the teachers, but also their lessons and books, fettered them, and locked them in prison. Things reached such a point that in this Orthodox state to open one's mouth about religion was dangerous: one could depend on immediate trouble and persecution. (Amvrosii Iushkevich) Iavorskii's book was restored to free circulation by imperial order only in 1741.

Rock of Faith was persecuted and suppressed precisely because it contained a polemical rejoinder to the Reformation. For this reason however, even those Orthodox who had no sympathy or enthusiasm for Iavorskii's Latinism greatly valued his work. Pososhkov was one such Orthodox. 38

The book Rock of Faith composed by His Holiness the Metropolitan of Riazan' Stefan Iavorskii of blessed memory should be published in order to affirm the faith and preserve it from Lutherans, Calvinists, and other iconoclasts. Five or six copies of it should be sent to each school, so that those aspiring for the priesthood might commit this very valuable Rock to memory in order to reply automatically to any question.

Pososhkov was sincerely worried and confused by this "iconoclastic" danger, by "senseless Lutheran theorizing," and by the "idle wisdom" of Lutheranism. He enthusiastically supported Peter's reforms, but he did not believe that it was either necessary or possible to repudiate one's own ancestral religion for the sake of any such renovation or for the "general welfare," or replace it with something newly conceived and superficial. As vigorously as Feofan and Peter, Pososhkov criticized the religious ignorance and superstition of the people, even the clergy, as well as the widely prevailing poverty and injustice. He insisted on the general introduction of schools; demanded the "ability to read" [grammaticheskoe razumenie] from those seeking to become deacons; and invited those pursuing a monastic life to study and "become skilled in disputations." However, Pososhkov's ideal remained the "religious life" and not lay or secular life. Thus, despite Stefan Iavorskii's Latinisms Pososhkov felt a closeness to and a confidence in him. Above all, Stefan provided him with a good deal of useful material.

In this way circumstances unfolded in which Stefan, writing theology on the basis of Bellarmine, by the same token was able to defend the Russian church from the introduction of the Reformation. Those circumstances became so complex that the fate of Russian theology in the eighteenth century was resolved in an extended debate between the epigoni of western post-Reformation Roman Catholic and Protestant scholasticism. Feofan eventually emerged victorious in that debate; he did not do so immediately. Due to a certain historical inertia, the earlier Roman Catholic Kievan tradition persisted until mid-century, even in the newly created schools. New ideas only slowly gained wider currency. Feofan conquered as a scholar; this was a victory for Protestant scholastic theology.

The Ecclesiastical Schools of the Eighteenth Century.

In the section of the Regulation entitled "Teachers and Students in Educational Institutions" Feofan outlines a coherent and reasoned program for education in the new schools. "When there is no light of learning there can be no good order in the Church; disorder and superstitions worthy of much ridicule are inescapable as are dissensions and the most senseless heresies." The Kiev Academy remained Feofan's model or template. He proposed the establishment of the "Academy" model for Great Russia. Such a school was to be uniform and general, lasting several years and containing many grades. All grades would progress together. The school was to aim for general education with philosophy and theology forming the capstone. A seminary was to be opened in conjunction with the academy, and it was to be a boarding school "on the monastic level." In Feofan's estimation, this marked the point of departure. Once again he is relying on western example or experience ("these things have been made the subject of no little pondering in foreign countries"). He most likely had in mind the College of St. Athanasius in Rome, where he had studied. The life of the seminary was to be insulated and isolated with the greatest possible effort made to separate it from the surrounding life ("not in a city but aside"), away from the influence of both parents and tradition. Only in this manner could a new breed of men be reared and educated. "Such a life for young people seems to be irksome and similar to imprisonment. But for the person who becomes accustomed to such a life, even for a single year, it will be most pleasant; as we know from our own experience and from that of others."

Feofan immediately tried to establish such a seminary, and in 1721 he opened a school in his home at Karpovka. The school was only for the primary grades. Foreigners, including the academician Gottlieb Bayer 39 and Sellius, 40 taught there. The school was abolished when Feofan died. Zaikonospasskii Academy in the Zaikonospasskii Monastery in Moscow became the leading school in Great Russia. By 1700 or 1701, it had already been reorganized on the Kievan model as a Latin school under the protection of Stefan Iavorskii. Patriarch Dositheus of Jerusalem 41 justifiably rebuked him for introducing "Latin learning." Meanwhile the Jesuits in Moscow, who had founded their own school for the sons of Moscow aristocrats, commented very favorably on it. Students of the two schools maintained friendly relations and arranged joint scholastic conversations. It would seem that for a time Stefan had friendly relations with the Jesuits as well.

All the teachers at the academy came from Kiev and among them Feofilakt Lopatinskii deserves special mention. Later during the reign of Anna, he became archbishop of Tver and also unbearably suffered at the hands of cunning men. He suffered most greatly from Feofan, whom he accused and attacked for Protestantism. Feofilakt possessed a wide knowledge and a bold spirit, but he was a typical scholastic theologian. His lectures follow Thomas Aquinas. He also later supervised the publication of Iavorskii's Rock of Faith. 42

Generally speaking, the schools of that time in Great Russia were usually created and opened only by hierarchs from the Ukraine. (There was also a time when only Ukrainians could become bishops and archimandrites). They founded Latin schools everywhere on the model of those in which they themselves had studied. Usually these hierarchs brought teachers (sometimes even of "Polish extraction") from Kiev or summoned them afterward. It sometimes happened that even the students were brought from the Ukraine. Such an emigration of Ukrainians or Cherkassy was regarded in Great Russia as a foreign invasion. In the most direct and literal sense, Peter's reform meant "Ukrainization" in the history of these ecclesiastical schools. The new Great Russian school was doubly foreign to its students: it was a school of "Latin learning" and "Cherkassian" teachers. Znamenskii 43 makes this point in his remarkable book on the ecclesiastical schools of the eighteenth century.

To the students all of these teachers quite literally seemed to be foreigners who had traveled from a far away land, as the Ukraine seemed at the time. The Ukraine possessed its own customs, conceptions, and even learning, coupled with a speech which was little understood and strange to the Great Russian ear. Moreover, not only did they not wish to adapt themselves to the youth they were supposed to educate or to the country in which they resided, but they also despised the Great Russians as barbarians. Anything which differed from that in the Ukraine became the object of mirth and censure. They exhibited and insisted upon everything Ukrainian as singularly better.

There is direct evidence that many of these emigrants remained unaccustomed to the Great Russian dialect and constantly spoke Ukrainian. This situation altered only during Catherine II's reign. By that time several generations of indigenous Great Russian Latinists had grown up. The school remained Latin. As a "colony" it grew stronger, but it never ceased to be a colony.

Without exaggeration one can say that "that culture which lived and grew in Russia from Peter's day onward was the organic and direct continuation not of Muscovite tradition but of Kievan or Ukrainian culture" (Prince N.S. Trubetskoi) 44 Only one reservation needs to be made: such culture was too artificial and too forcibly introduced to be described as an "organic continuation."

Considerable confusion and disorganization accompanied the construction of the new school network. By design the new school was to be a "class" school compulsory for the "clerical rank." The children of the clergy were recruited by force, like soldiers, under threat of imprisonment, assignment to the army, and merciless punishment. In the Ukraine, on the contrary, the schools had a multiclass character. Moreover, in the Ukraine the clergy did not become segregated into a distinct class until Catherine's reign. In addition to the Kievan Academy, the Kharkov Collegium also provides a characteristic example. Founded as a seminary in 1722 by Epifanii Tikhorskii, 45 the bishop of Belgorod, and with great material assistance from the Golitsyn family, the school had been reorganized in 1726. Sometimes it was even called the Tikhorian Academy. The theology class was inaugurated as early as 1734.

In any case, the hierarchy was obligated to establish new schools and to do so at the expense of the local monastery or church. These schools were founded from professional considerations "in the hope of the priesthood," for the creation and education of a new breed of clergy. However, their curricula provided for general education with theology studied only in the very last year. Very few surmounted the long and difficult curriculum to reach that class. The majority left the seminaries with no theological training whatever. Not just the poorer students left early ("for inaptitude for learning" or "for inability to understand the lessons"). Very frequently the better students were lured away to the "civil command" [svetskaia kommanda] in search of other professions or simply to enter "into the bureaucratic rank." Yet throughout the entire eighteenth century the ecclesiastical schools formed the sole, durable, and extensive educational system.

The expansion and development of such a network of multigrade schools seemed an impossible task, as was duly foreseen. Above all, the necessary number of teachers could nowhere be found or acquired, especially teachers sufficiently trained in the "highest learning" (i.e., theology and philosophy). In any case, only four of the twenty-six seminaries opened prior to 1750 taught theology and four more offered philosophy. Due to the lack of able teachers, this situation only slowly improved even at the Aleksandr Nevskii Seminary in St. Petersburg 46 Enlisting students proved difficult, although failure to appear was treated similarly to desertion from the army.

A police state draws no distinction between study and service. Education is regarded as a form of service or duty. The student (even the youngest) was looked upon as a servitor discharging his obligation and bound to perform all the tasks belonging to his office under threat of criminal prosecution and not simply punishment. Thus, only with the greatest reluctance were even the least capable students (including boys of unconquerable delinquency, cruelty, and violent brutality) excused from enlistment in the education service, and when that happened, soldiering replaced their education. "In this regard, seminarians became sons of church soldiers [tserkovnye kantonisty]." Those failing to appear, those who disappeared, or those who deserted were tracked down and forcibly returned — sometimes even in chains — "for that training and testing of them depicted in the Spiritual Regulation." All of these measures failed to deter deserters. Sometimes nearly half the seminary ran away, and class lists contained the epicentry: semper fugitiosus.

Such wild flights by students and their concealment by others did not result from some dark quality, laziness, or obscurantism on the part of the clerical rank. The reason for such rejection of education did not derive from some ignorant or superstitious quality in the clergy, a topic on which Peter and Feofan so eloquently declaimed. The reason lies concealed in the fact that the new Russian school was foreign and exotic: an unexpected Latin-Polish colony on the Russian clergy's native soil. Even from the "professional" point of view such a school can be shown to have been useless.

The practical mind detected no benefit in Latin grammar, that is, in some `artful mannerisms' acquired in the seminaries and utterly failed to discover any reasons to abandon the old familiar ways of preparation for pastoral duties at home in exchange for new unfamiliar and doubtful ways. It still remained to be proven who was better prepared for the clerical life: the psalmist who had served in the church since childhood and learned reading, singing, and liturgical routine through practice or the Latin scholar who had learned a few Latin inflections, and a few vocabulary words. (Znamenskii) In the Latin schools, students grew unfamiliar with Slavic and even the Scriptural texts used during their lessons were presented in Latin. Grammar, rhetoric, and poetics were studied in Latin. Rhetoric in Russian came later. Understandably, parents mistrustfully sent their children to "that damned seminary to be tortured," while the children themselves preferred imprisonment if it meant escaping such educational service. The dismaying impression arose that these newly introduced schools, if they did not actually alter one's faith, did replace one's nationality.

During Peter's reign Russia did not acquire the "humanist foundations" of European culture, but merely western routine. This routine was introduced through compulsory measures, and such means frequently proved morally debasing, particularly in the "all-embracing poverty," that is, outright destitution which prevailed in the schools even as late as the beginning of the nineteenth century. Metropolitan Filaret of Moscow, speaking about his own school days, noted that clerical youths "from the lowest grades to the highest prepared themselves for church service more through fortitude and endurance than because they possessed any material advantage." True, in the second half of the century this situation improved and another, more fruitful, pedagogical ideal prevailed. Even French became part of the curriculum. The ideal found scarcely any reflection in life.

The establishment of schools undoubtedly constituted a positive step. Yet the transplant of Latin schools in Russian soil signified a breach in the church's consciousness: a breach separating theological "learning" from ecclesiastical experience. The rift could be felt all the more keenly when one prayed in Slavic and theologized in Latin. The same Scripture which rang out in class in the international language of Latin could be heard in Slavic in the cathedral. This unhealthy breach in the church's consciousness may well have been the most tragic consequence of the Petrine epoch. A new "dual faith," or at least "dual soul," was created. "Once one has gone to the Germans, leaving them is very difficult" (Herzen). 47

The cultural construction was western; even the theology was western. During the eighteenth century the term education usually designated scholarly "erudition." This theological erudition of Russia's eighteenth century Latin schools came to be regarded (and with reason) as some foreign and superfluous element in the church's life and customs, responding to none of its organic needs. Such erudition was not neutral. Theology studied according to Feofan's system resulted in all questions being posed and viewed from a Protestant standpoint. Psychological transformation accompanied this new erudition; the spiritual dimension was "Reformed." Is this not actually the most powerful reason for that lack of faith in and obstinate indifference to theological culture which still has not yet been outgrown among the wider circles of the congregation and even among the clergy? This is also the reason for the continuing attitude towards theology as a foreign and western appendage forever alien to the Orthodox East which has so tragically impeded (and continues to impede) the recovery of Russia's religious consciousness and its liberation from both ancient and modern prejudices. This is an historical diagnosis, not an assessment.

"Many seminarians who are studying Latin language and Latin subjects have been observed to become suddenly bored," as it was noted in a very curious request for the reinstitution of Russian entitled "Lamentations of Sons of Merchants and Those of Mixed Ranks" addressed to the then archbishop of Tver, Platon Levshin, 48 in 1770. Such "boredom" and even "affliction" (that is, injury to the mind) sprang from a spiritual contusion or rupture. Quite sufficient reasons and grounds for disbelief and suspicion were provided not only during Peter's rein but subsequent years supplied them with greater frequency. Learning opposed "superstition" and often faith and piety were understood to come under that hated designation. Naturally this was the "Age of Enlightenment." The business-like and utilitarian struggle with superstition during Peter's reign anticipated the luxurious freethinking and libertinism of Catherine's reign.

In dealing with "superstition" Peter proved more resolute than even Feofan, for he was cruder. Still, Feofan was no apprentice. In this regard, the Petrine legislation regulating monasteries and monasticism is very instructive. Peter considered monasticism as knavish and parasitical. "Whenever several [such] sanctimonious bigots went to visit the Greek emperors, they more frequently visited their wives." "At the very outset [of Russian history] this gangrene became widespread among us." Peter found Russia climatically unsuited to monasticism. He planned to convert existing monasteries into work houses, foundling homes or veterans homes. Monks were to become hospital attendants and nuns were to become spinners and lacemakers, for which purpose skilled lacemakers were brought from Brabant. "They say pray, and everyone prays. What profit does society get from that?" The prohibition against monks studying books and engaging in literary affairs is quite characteristic, and a "rule" to that effect was appended to the Regulation. 49

For no reason shall monks write in their cells, either excerpts from books or letters of advice, without the personal knowledge of their superior under penalty of severe corporal punishment; nor shall they receive letters except with the permission of the superior. In conformity with the spiritual and civil regulations no ink or paper may be owned, except by those permitted by the superior for a general spiritual use. This shall be diligently watched among the monks, for nothing destroys monastic silence as much as frivolous and vain writings.

Apropos of this prohibition, Giliarov-Platonov 50 once rightly noted that :

When Peter I issued the decree forbidding monks to keep pen and ink in their cells, when that same rule ordered by law that the confessor report to the criminal investigator those sins revealed to him in confession; then the clergy must have felt that henceforth state authority would come between them and the people, that the state would take upon itself the exclusive instruction of the popular mind and strive to destroy that spiritual bond, that mutual confidence, which existed between shepherds and their flocks.

True, Peter also wished to educate the monks in the true understanding of the Scriptures. As a first step, all young monks (that is, those less than thirty years old) were ordered to assemble for study at the Zaikonospasskii Academy. 51 Such a decree could only produce further unrest, for it could only be understood as an effort to extend the educational-service requirement to monks (which was fully in keeping with the spirit of the "reforms"). Such service was to be done in Latin schools at that. Somewhat later Peter proposed to convert the monasteries into nursery beds for the cultivation of enlightened men especially capable of translating useful books.

Above all, the new school was regarded as a form of state arbitrariness and interference. These new "learned" monks of the Latin-Kievan type (the only sort Peter and Feofan wished to train)52 whose uncomprehending and excited minds were forcibly acquiring and being drilled in lifeless Latin knowledge, could hardly be reconciled to the closure and destruction of the old pious monasteries or with the silencing of God's service within them. 53

The Petrine State extorted the acceptance of this religious and psychological act. Precisely because of this extortion religious consciousness in the eighteenth century so often shrank, shrivelled, and covered itself with silence, quiet endurance, and a refusal to pose questions for itself. A single common language — that sympathetic bond without which mutual understanding is impossible — was lost. The quips and banterings in which Russia's eighteenth century Kulturtrager and enlighteners rapturously engaged further facilitated this process. In general, all these contradictions and contusions during the eighteenth century powerfully and unhealthily resounded and found expression in the history of Russian theology and Russian religious consciousness.

Protestant Scholasticism .

Feofan's influence in education did not become immediately apparent. He taught for only a short time in Kiev and he left no disciples behind him. His "system" remained uncompleted, while his notes were prepared and published much later. Feofan's system penetrated the school routine approximately at mid-century (in Kiev after Arsenii Mogilianskii 54 became metropolitan in 1759). During the first half of the century theology continued to be taught in the earlier Roman Catholic manner. 55 Course plans written by Feofilakt (that is, on the basis of Thomas Aquinas) usually constituted the theology taught in the new seminaries. At that time peripatetic philosophy 56 — Philsophia Atistotelico — Scholastica-was taught everywhere and usually from the same textbooks as those used by the Polish Jesuits. Philosophy passed from Aristotle to Wolff 57 almost simultaneously with the passage of theology from Aquinas to Feofan Prokopovich. Baumeister's textbook long remained required and widely accepted. 58 The sway of Protestant Latin scholasticism began. Latin remained the language of the schools, while instruction and study went unchanged. Direct use was made of the systems and compendiums written by Gerhard, Quenstedt, Hollatius and Buddeus. 59 Compilations, "abridgments," and "extracts" were made from these Protestant handbooks in the same manner such books had been compiled from Roman Catholic texts. Few of these compendiums were published. The lectures of Sil'vestr Kuliabka, Georgii Koniskii, or Gavriil Petrov 60 were never printed. Only much later did such compendiums appear in print: Feofilakt Gorskii's Doctrina (published in Leipzig in 1784 and based on Buddeus and Schubert); Iakinf Karpinskii's Compendium theologiae dogmaticopolemicae (Leipzig, 1786); Sil'vestr Lebedinskii's Compendium (St Petersburg, 1799 and Moscow, 1805); and finally Irinei Fal'kovskii'a compendium published in 1812. 61 All of these authors followed Feofan. One looks in vain for any free expression of thought in these books and compendiums. They were textbooks: the fossilized "tradition of the school" and the weight of erudition. The eighteenth century witnessed the age of erudites and archaeologists (more as philologists than as historians), and such erudition found expression in their teaching. The whole purpose of eighteenth century education resided in compiling and assembling material. Even in the provincial seminaries the best students read a great deal, especially the classical historians and frequently even the church fathers more often in Latin translation than in Greek, For the Greek language did not belong to the "ordinary" course work, that is, it was not one of the chief subjects of instruction and was not even required. 62 Only in 1784 was any attention paid to instruction in Greek out of "consideration for the fact that the sacred books and the works of the teachers of our Orthodox Greco-Russian Church were written in it: A more likely explanation for this decision is to be found in the political calculations related to the "Greek Project." 63 The reminder about Greek produced no direct practical results and even such an advocate as Metropolitan Platon of Moscow 64 found only ten or fifteen students willing to study in his beloved and well tended Trinity Seminary) Platon himself learned Greek only after finishing school. He hoped the seminarians might achieve the ability to speak "simple Greek and read "Hellenic Greek." He succeeded, for some of his students did acquire the ability to write Greek verses. The works of the church fathers as well as other books were translated from Greek and Latin at both the Zaikonospasskii Academy and the Trinity Seminary. Greek, along with Hebrew, became compulsory with the reform of 1798.65

Among the Russian Hellenists of the eighteenth century first place must be given to Simon Todorskii,66 the great authority on Greek and Oriental languages and student of the famous Michaelis 67 Todorskii's students in Kiev, Iakov Blonnitskii and Varlaam Liashchevskii, both worked on the new edition of the Slavic Bible. 68 This was no easy task. The editors needed genuine philological tact and sensitivity. A decision had to be made about which editions to use as a basis for corrections. The Walton Polyglot, 69 to be consulted in conjunction with the Complutensian Polyglot, 70 was finally decided upon. No immediate solution was devised on how to deal with cases of faulty translation in the old and new editions. One suggestion involved fully printing both editions — the old one and the new corrected one — in parallel columns. The printed Bible, however, merely gave an extensive index of all changes. The editors took the Septuagint as their guide. Feofan had opposed comparing the translation not only with the Hebrew text, but also with other Greek texts "which did not come into common use in the Eastern Church." His argument was to be repeated a century later by the adherents to "the return to the time of scholasticism." Iakov Blonnitskii at one time served as a teacher in Tver' and Moscow. Without completing the work on the Bible, he secretly journeyed to Mt. Athos, where he lived ten years in the Bulgarian monastery of Zographou 71 and continued his study of Slavic and Greek.

Biblical realism — the effort to grasp and understand the sacred text in its concreteness and even in historical perspective — constitutes the positive side of the new Biblical instruction. Moralistic and didactic allegorism formed a powerful element in eighteenth century exegesis. Nevertheless, above all else the Bible was regarded as a book of Sacred History. An ecclesiastical apperception began to take shape.

In 1798 church history became part of the curriculum. Since there was no "classical" book (that is, textbook), Mosheim, Bingham, or Lange were recommended. 72 Translation of historical works occupied considerable attention at the Moscow Academy in the 1760's. Pavel Ponomarev the rector of the academy in 1782 (later archbishop, of Tver' and then Iaroslavl'), translated the Memoires of Tillemont 73, but the work met with the censor's disapproval. Ieronim Chernov, prefect at the academy in 1788, published his translation of Bingham. Mefodii Smirnov rector from 1791 to 1795 (later archbishop of Tver'), prefaced his theology lectures with an historical introduction. His Liber historicus de rebus in primitiva sive trium primorum et quarti ineuntis seculorum ecclesia christiana, the first survey of church history in Russia, appeared in 1805. The book's style and content wholly belong to the eighteenth century. Petr Alekseev (1727-1801), archpriest of the Archangel cathedral, a member of the Russian Academy, and a man of very advanced views, taught for many years at Moscow University. His chief work, the Ecclesiastical Dictionary [Tserkovnyi slovar'], which provided explanations for church articles and terms, went through three editions. 74 He began to publish the Orthodox Confession [Pravoslavnoe ispovedanie] and had printed the entire first part and thirty questions of the second part when the printing was halted "because of bold remarks, which have been appended." His own Catechism [Katikhizis] was also subsequently detained.

Mention should also be made of Veniamin Rumovskii, 75 who became widely known as the author of New Table of Commandments [Novaia skrizhal'], which first appeared in Moscow in 1804. He also translated Jacobus Goar's Euchologion. 76 Veniamin died in 1811 as archbishop of Nizhegorod. Irinei Klement'evskii 77 (who died as archbishop of Pskov in 1818) was known for his commentaries and translations from the Greek of the church fathers.

Very early in the century a new dimension — pietism — was added to the older Protestant scholasticism. Simon Todorskii (1699-1754) must once again be invoked in this connection. As he says himself, after leaving the Kiev Academy, "I traveled across the sea to the Academy of Halle in Magdeburg." Halle at that time formed the chief and very stormy center of pietism (Christian Wolff was expelled in 1723). At Halle, Todorskii studied oriental languages, especially Biblical languages. Such intense interest in the Bible is highly characteristic of pietism, which rather unexpectedly fuses philosophy and morality. 78 At one time Todorskii served as a teacher in the pietists' famous Orphan Asylum in Halle. 79 While at Halle, Todorskii translated Johann Arndt's On True Christianity [Wahres Christentum].80 The book was published in Halle in 1735. He also translated Anastasius the Preacher's Guide to the Knowledge of Christ's Passion and the anonymous Teaching on the Foundation of the Christian Life. 81 These books were forbidden in Russia and removed from circulation in 1743, so that henceforth no such books would be translated into Russian.

Todorskii did not return home directly from Halle. "Having left there, I spent a year and a half among the Jesuits in various places." He taught for a time somewhere in Hungary. He acted as a teacher for Orthodox Greeks and then returned to Kiev in 1739.

Pietism and sentimentalism became quite widespread during the second half of the century. Both became fused with mystical freemasonry. The impact of such dreamy moralism became quite noticeable in the ecclesiastical schools. Probably it was most visible in Moscow in Platon's day. Even "Wolffianism" became sentimental and Wolff's theology justifiably came to be known as the "dogmatics for the sentimental man."

The structure and organization of the church schools experienced no substantive alteration during the entire century, although the spirit of the age changed several times. A small commission for "founding of the most useful schools in the dioceses" had been formed at the outset of Catherine's reign. Gavriil, then bishop of Tver', 82 Innokentii Nechaev, bishop of Pskov, 83 and Platon Levshin, then still a hieromonk, constituted its membership. The commission discovered no reason to modify the Latin type of school and proposed only the introduction of a more complete uniformity and greater coherence in the school system (and curriculum). The successive steps of instruction were to be dismantled; four seminaries (Novgorod, St. Petersburg, Kazan' and Iaroslavl') given an expanded program of study, and Moscow Academy was to be elevated to the rank of an "ecclesiastical university" with a universal curriculum. The commission clearly posed the question of the necessity for improving the social status and condition of the clergy. 84 A new spirit pervades the entire proposal: social development is less accented, while discipline is moderated and manners softened. The proposal aimed "to inculcate a noble sense of integrity in the students, which like a mainspring, would govern their actions." Modern languages, too, were to be added. A characteristic feature of the proposal would have entrusted all the ecclesiastical schools to the ultimate authority of two protectors, one secular and one clerical, in order to give greater independence to the schools. It became quite clear that genuine reform of the ecclesiastical schools was impossible without "betterment" and support for the clergy. The commission on church properties (Teplov played a guiding role in that commission) 85 had actually pointed out this fact in 1762. The commission's proposals in 1766 had no practical result. However that year a group of young seminarians was sent abroad to study at Gottingen, Leyden, or Oxford. With the return in 1773 of those sent to Gottingen, the question again arose about creating a theological faculty in Moscow under the supervision of the Synod where the returning specialists could be used in teaching. In 1777 a detailed plan was drawn up for such a faculty, but once more nothing resulted. When Moscow University was established in 1755, a department of theology had been rejected: "In addition to the philosophical sciences and jurisprudence, theology should be taught in every university however, the concern for theology, properly speaking, belongs to the Holy Synod." 86

Only one student who had studied in Gottingen was appointed to a position in the ecclesiastical schools. This was Damaskin Semenov Rudnev (1737-1795), later bishop of Nizhnii Novgorod and a member of the Russian Academy. While in Gottingen as the supervisor for the younger students, he had studied philosophy and history rather than theology and translated Nestor's chronicle 87 into German. However, he did attend theology lectures and in 1772 published Feofan Prokopovich's treatise On the Procession of the Holy Spirit with additions and commentaries. On his return, he took monastic vows and became a professor and rector of the Moscow Academy. Even by the standards of Catherine's age, he was a "liberal" hierarch, educated in the philosophy of Wolff and natural law. It is said that Metropolitan Gavriil "indicated to him that he should stop all that German nonsense buzzing in his head and more seduously apply himself to fulfilling his monastic vows." Of those students who studied in Leyden, one, Veniamin Bagrianskii, 88 later became bishop of Irkutsk. He died in 1814.

During roughly those same years, a proposal was made to reform the Kiev Academy. One plan suggested transforming the academy into a university by expelling the monks and subordinating the school to the secular authorities in society (the suggestion came from Razumovskii, 89 Rumiantsev, 90 and at the desire of the Kiev and Starodub nobility in the Commission of 1766-1767). Another plan, that of Glebov, the governor-general of Kiev, advocated the creation of new faculties (1766). The Academy remained unchanged. However, within a short time instruction improved in secular subjects and modern languages "which are necessary for social life" (French had been taught since 1753). Characteristically, during Metropolitan Samuil Mislavskii's 91 administration, teacher candidates were sent to study at the University of Vilna or in the Protestant convent in Slutsk (however, they went to Moscow University).

The 1798 reform of the ecclesiastical schools also left their foundations intact. The seminaries in St. Petersburg and Kazan' received the designation of "Academy" together with an extension and elaboration of instruction. New seminaries were opened; the curricula were somewhat revised.

Metropolitan Platon Levshin (1737-1811) was the most important contributor to church education in the eighteenth century: the "Peter Mogila of the Moscow Academy," in S. K. Smirnov's 92 apt phrasing. Platon was a typical representative of that ornate, dreamy, and troubled age, whose every contradiction and confusion condensed and reverberated within his personality. "Plus philosophe que pretre," was Joseph II's 93 judgment of him. Platon attracted Catherine for that very reason. In any case, as a sufficiently "enlightened" man, he discoursed on "superstitions" according to the spirit of the age. Nevertheless, Platon remained a man of piety and prayer and a great lover of church singing and the liturgy. Impetuous, yet determined, both direct and dreamy, easily aroused and persistent, Platon always acted openly and forthrightly with himself and with others. He could not possibly have lasted long at court, nor could he have preserved any influence there.

Platon advanced because of his abilities as a preacher, another trait in keeping with the style of that rhetorical age. He could compel even courtiers to shudder and weep. Yet it is his sermons which vividly disclose the utter sincerity and intensity of his own warm piety. Behind his mannered eloquence, one detects a flexible will and deep conviction. While a teacher of rhetoric at the Trinity Seminary, Platon took monastic vows, and did so from inner conviction and inclination, "because of a special love for enlightenment," as he himself put it. Platon regarded monasticism from a quite peculiar standpoint. For him celibacy was its sole purpose. "As concerns monasticism, he reasoned that it could not impose any greater obligations upon a Christian than those which the Gospel and the baptismal vows had already imposed." 94 Love of solitude — less for prayer than for intellectual pursuits and friendships — provided a strong attraction. Platon consciously chose the path of the church. He declined entry to Moscow University, just as he refused offers to other secular positions. He did not wish to be lost in the empty vanity of worldly life. Traces of a personal Rousseauism can be seen in his efforts to leave Moscow for the Holy Trinity Monastery, where he could build his own intimate asylum: Bethany. 95

Platon was a great and ardent advocate of education and enlightenment. He had his own conception of the clergy. He wished to create a new, educated and cultured clergy via the humanistic school. He wished to improve the clerical rank and elevate it to the social heights. He chose to do so at a time when others were trying to reduce and disolve the clergy in the "third estate of men" and even in an impersonal serfdom. Hence Platon's anxious desire to adapt the instruction and education in the ecclesiastical schools to the tastes and views of "enlightened" society. He was able to do a great deal in particular for the seminary at the Holy Trinity Monastery. Zaikonospasskii Academy enjoyed a renaissance under Platon. He founded Bethany Seminary in 1797 on the model of Trinity Seminary. However, Bethany opened only in 1800.

Education of the mind and heart "so that they might excel in good deeds" constituted Platon's ideal: a sentimental novitiate and inversion of the church's spirit. Under his influence a new type of churchman — the erudite and lover of enlightenment — came into being. Neither a thinker nor a scholar, Platon was a zealot or "lover" of enlightenment — a very characteristic eighteenth century category.

Although a catechist rather than a theologian, Platon's "catechisms" and conversations (or Elementary Instruction in Christian Law) which he delivered in Moscow during his early career (1757 and 1758) signify a turning point in the history of theology. His lessons for the Grand Duke Paul 96 entitled Orthodox Teaching or a Brief Christian Theology [Pravoslavnoe uchenie ili sokrashchen khristianskoe bogosiovie, 1765] marks the first attempt at a theological system in Russian. "Ease of exposition is the best feature about this work," was Filaret of Chernigov's comment, yet his faint praise is not quite just. Platon was less an orator than a teacher; he pondered over education more than he studied oratory. "I never troubled long over an eloquent style." His determination to persuade educated men provided his expressiveness and clarity, "for the face of truth is singularly beautiful without any false cosmetics." His polemic with the Old Ritualists is quite instructive in this connection, for tolerance and deference did not preserve him from superficial simplification. His project for the so-called "single faith" [edinoverie] 97 can scarcely be termed a success. In any case, Platon's "catechisms" actually were incomplete. Platon tried to bring theology in contact with life. He sought to do so in conformity with the spirit of the time by converting theology into moral instruction, into a kind of emotional-moralistic humanism. "The various systems of theology now taught in the schools have a scholastic air and the odor of human subtleties." All of this belongs to an age which preferred to speak of "turning the mind toward the good" rather than toward "faith." Platon sought a lively and living theology, which could be found only in Scripture. When commenting upon Scripture, when "searching out the literal sense," above all one avoid any bending or force in order not to abuse Scripture by seeking a hidden meaning "where none exists." Texts should be juxtaposed in order that Scriptures might be allowed to explain themselves. "At the same time, use the best commentators." Platon understood this to mean the church fathers. The influence of Chrysostom and Augustine are easily detected in his writing. He hastened to speak more intimately about dogma, and his doctrinal "theology" can scarcely be distinguished from the prevailing vague and moralistically emotional Lutheranism of the time. The sacramental meaning of the church is inadequately presented throughout his theology, while moral appositions (the scholastic usus) are overdeveloped. The church is defined very imprecisely as "an assembly of men who believe in Jesus Christ" (elsewhere Platon adds, "and who live according to his law"). Such imprecision is quite characteristic.

Platon was wholly a part of modern Russia and its western experience. For all his piety, he had too little sense of the church. Yet this limitation does not detract from or overshadow the true importance of his other achievements. The fact that Platon gave attention to the study of Russian church history and encouraged others to do so as well is of great importance. 98 Moreover, he published the first outline of that history (but only in 1805). Much later this sympathetic return to history produced a more profound ecclesiastical self-awareness. Platon's historical limitation is visibly expressed in his attitude toward the Russian language. He himself not only preached in Russian but published his "theology" in Russian. Yet his book on theology had to be translated into Latin for school use. Such was the case, for example, at the Tula Seminary.

Platon attempted to improve the instruction in Russian for the lowest grades. Russian grammar and rhetoric on the basis of Lomonosov's 99 writings replaced Latin. However, he feared that elementary instruction in Russian grammar and composition might impede progress in Latin subjects. Until the end of the eighteenth century, the greatest emancipation which could be achieved in theology lectures at Trinity Seminary was the interpretation of texts from Holy Scripture according to the Slavic Bible without translation from Latin. (Znamenskii) Mefodii Smirnov was the first to do so, and then only in the 1790's.

Rare experiments had been attempted earlier. At the time Platon became archbishop of Tver' in 1770, he discovered theology being taught in Russian. Makarii Petrovich 100 introduced this innovation in 1764. His lectures were published posthumously as Orthodox Teaching of the Eastern Church, Containing Everything which a Christian seeking salvation needs to know and do (St. Petersburg, 1783).101 Makarii translated scholastic disputations into Russian, trying to refashion them as conversations with people holding different views and remold them on the patristic model ("whenever reading of the holy fathers is relevant"). Makarii's successor at the Tver' Seminary, Arsenii Vereshchagin 102 followed his example. Platon's appointment altered everything and restored the Latin routine.

Much later (1805), when discussing a new reform of the church schools, Platon strenuously objected to Russian as the language of instruction. He feared a decline in scholarship and especially an erosion of scholarly prestige.

Our clergy are regarded by foreigners as nearly ignorant for we can speak neither French nor German. But we maintain our honor by replying that we can speak and copy Latin. If we study Latin as we do Greek, we lose our last honor, for we will not be able to speak or write any language. I beg you to retain it.

Platon's statement very clearly demonstrates how greatly his outlook had been restricted by scholastic tradition and how little he sensed the church's needs.

At the same time, the weakest feature of the eighteenth century ecclesiastical school derived precisely from its Latin character. Somewhat later Evgenii Bolkhovitinov, 103 another man of the Enlightenment, justly noted that "our present curriculum, prior to the course philosophy, is not one of general education, but merely a course in Latin literature." Education conveyed in the Russian language was regarded with a strange lack of confidence during the eighteenth century. It seemed to be an impossible dream, if not actually a dangerous one. The bold hope expressed in the foundation charter (16 March 1731) of the Kharkov Collegium remained unfulfilled. That hope was "to teach the Orthodox children of every class and calling, not only poetics and rhetoric, but also philosophy and theology in the Slavonic, Greek and Latin languages, while at the same time endeavoring to introduce these subjects in native Russian." Latin prevailed.

In 1760, when the metropolitan of Kiev, Arsenii Mogilianskii, 104 ordered that the Orthodox Confession be read in Russian, his directive was considered a fruitless concession to weakness and ignorance. Basic theological lectures continued to be delivered in Latin, "preserving the pure Latin style and guarding it from the vulgar common dialect." Archimandrite Iuvenalii's 105 System of Christian Theology (Sistema khristianskago bogosloviia], 3 parts, (Moscow, 1806), published in Russia at the beginning of the nineteenth century, was not intended for school use. The western example, with a certain time lag to be sure, inspired this tenacious school Latinism. As a result the Russian language atrophied.

The educated Russian theological language, a sample of which can be seen in the theses presented at school disputations at the Moscow Academy, had so little development that it occupied an incomparably lower position than even the language of ancient Russian translators of the holy fathers and of the original theological works of ancient Rus'. (Znamenskii).

Things reached such a point that students were unable to write easily in Russian, but first had to express their thought in Latin and then translate it. The students even copied in Latin or wrote with a substantial admixture of Latin words the explanations given by the teacher in Russian.

Whatever argument one used, whatever fundamentum one put to his opugnae, each argument sovendus by the defendant and his teacher.

"From such [an environment] came priests who knew Latin and pagan writers adequately, but who knew poorly the authors of the Bible or the writers of the church" (Filaret of Moscow). Such a situation was not the worst feature: still worse was the inorganic character of an entire school system in which theology could not be enlivened by the direct assistance and experience of church life.

The scope and significance of the scholarly and even educational achievements of the eighteenth century should not be underestimated. In any case, the cultural-theological experiment was quite important. An elaborate school network spread throughout Russia. But Russian theology . . . all of this "school" theology, in the strict sense, was rootless. It fell and grew in foreign soil . . . A superstructure erected in a desert. . . and in place of roots came stilts. Theology on stilts, such is the legacy of the eighteenth century.

Russian Freemasonry.

Freemasonry proved to be a major event in the history of Russian society — that society born and elaborated in the upheaval of the Petrine era. Freemasons were men who had lost the "eastern" path and who had become lost on western ones. Quite naturally they discovered this new road of freemasonry by starting from a western crossroads. The first generation raised in Peter's reforms received its education in the principles of a utilitarian state service. The new educated class arose from among the "converts," that is, among those who accepted the Reform. At that time such acceptance or acknowledgment defined one's membership in the new "class." The new men became accustomed and schooled to interpret their existence only in terms of state utility and the general welfare. The "Table of Ranks" replaced the Creed [Simvol very] and all it implied. 106 The consciousness of these new men became extroverted to the point of rupture. The soul became lost, disconcerted, and dissolved in the feverish onslaught of foreign impressions and experiences. In the whirl of construction during Peter's reign there had been no time to have second thoughts or recovery. By the time the atmosphere became somewhat freer, the soul had already been ravished and exhausted. Moral receptivity became addled; religious needs choked and suffocated. The very next generation began speaking with alarm on the corruption of morals in Russia. 107 The subject was hardly exhausted. This was an age of absorbing adventures and every sort of gratification. The history of the Russian soul has not yet been written for the eighteen century. Only fragmentary episodes are known. But a general weariness, sickness, and anguish clearly echo and reverberate in such episodes. The best representatives of Catherine's age testify to the searing ordeal, which compelled them to set forth in search of meaning and truth during an age of freethinking and debauchery. They had to contend with passing through the coldest indifference and the most excruciating despair. For many, Voltarianism became a genuine disease both morally and spiritually.

A religious awakening — a revival from a religious faint — occurred in the second half of the eighteenth century. Not surprisingly, such an awakening often bordered on hysterics. "A paroxysm of conscientious thought," as Kliuchevskii described this freemasonic awakening. Yet freemasonry was more than a simple paroxysm. Russian freemasonry's entire historical significance lies in the fact that it was anascetic effort and attempt at spiritual concentration. The Russian soul recovered itself through freemasonry from the alien customs and dissipations in St. Petersburg.

Freemasonry did not signify a passing episode, but rather a developmental stage in the history of modern Russian society. Toward the end of the 1770's freemasonry swept through nearly the entire educated class: In any case, the system of Masonic lodges, with all its branches, extended throughout that class.

Russian freemasonry had a history rich in disputes, divisions, and fluctuations. The first lodges were, in essence, circles of Deists who professed a rational morality and natural religion, while seeking to achieve moral self-knowledge.108 No distinctions or divisions existed between "freemasons" and "Voltarians." The mystical current in freemasonry emerged somewhat later. 109 Yet the circle of Moscow Rosicrucians became the most important and influential among the Russian freemason centers of the time.

Freemasonry is a peculiar secular and secret Order with a very strict inner and external discipline. And it was precisely its inner discipline or asceticism (not just healthy spiritual hygiene) which proved to be most important for the general economy of Masonic labors in squaring the "rough stone" of the human heart, as the expression went. A new type of man was reared in such asceticism; a new human type which is encountered in the subsequent epoch among the "Romantics." The "occult sources" of Romanticism are by now incontestable.

Russian society received a sentimental education: an awakening of the heart. The future Russian intelligent first detected in the masonic movement his shatteredness and duality of existence. He became tormented by a thirst for wholeness and began to seek it. The later generation of the 1830's and 1840's repeated such searching, such Sturm und Drang. This was particularly true for the Slavophiles. Psychologically, Slavophilism is an offshoot of the freemasonry of Catherine's reign (as it certainly did not derive from any rustic country customs).

Masonic asceticism embraces quite varied motifs, including a rationalistic indifference of the Stoic variety, as well as ennui with life's vanities, docetic fastidiousness, at times an "outright love for death" ("joy of the grave"), and a genuinely temperate heart. Freemasonry elaborated a complex method of self scrutiny and self-restraint. "To die on the cross of self-abnegation and perish in the fire of purification," as I.V. Lopukhin 110 deigned the goal of the "true freemason." One must struggle with oneself and with dissipation; concentrate one's feelings and thought; sever passionate desires; "instruct the heart"; and "coerce the will." For the root and seat of evil is found precisely within oneself and in one's will. "Apply yourself to nothing so much as to be in spirit, soul and body, utterly with-out `I'." And in the struggle with yourself, you must once more avoid all self-will and egoism. Do not seek or choose a cross for yourself, but bear one if and when it is given to you. Do not try to arrange for your salvation as much as hope for it, joyously humbling yourself before the will of God.

Freemasonry preached a strict and responsible life; moral self-direction; moral nobility; restraint; dispassion; self-knowledge and self-possession; "philanthropy" and the quiet life "amidst this world without allowing one's heart to touch its vanities." Yet freemasonry not only demanded personal self-perfection but also an active love — the "primary expression, foundation, and purpose of the kingdom of Jesus within the soul." The philanthropical work of Russian freemasons of that time is quite well known.

Mystical freemasonry constituted an inner reaction to the spirit of the Enlightenment. All the pathos of freemasonry's Theoretical Degree 111 was directed against the "inventions of blind reason" and "the sophistries of that Voltarian gang." The accent shifted to intuition, the counterpoint to eighteenth century rationalism.

The age of scepticism was also the age of pietism. Fenelon 112 was no less popular than Voltaire. The "philosophy of faith and feeling" is no less characteristic of the age — the age of sentimentalism — than the Encyclopedie. Sentimentalism is organically linked to freemasonry and not only designated a literary tendency or movement, but initially signified a mystical trend: a religio-psychological quest. The sources of sentimentalism must be sought in the writings of Spanish, Dutch and French mystics of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Sentimentalism educated the soul in reverie and feeling, in a certain constant pensiveness, and in "holy melancholy" (cf. the spiritual path of the young Karamzin 113 as well as the later development of Zhukovskii).114 This was not always accomplished by the concentration of the soul. The habit of too ceaselessly and excessively examining oneself often resulted in quietism of the will. Men of that period frequently fell ill from "reflection," and this "sentimental education" most powerfully influenced precisely the formation of the "superfluous man." "Holy melancholy" invariably contains an aftertaste of scepticism.

In those days men became accustomed to living in an imaginary element, in a world of images and reflections. They may have penetrated the mysteries or they may have been having bad dreams. Not accidentally, the epoch witnessed on all sides an awakening of a creative fantasy — a powerfully great poetic plasticity and modelling. The "Beautiful Soul" [Prekrasnaia dusha] became paradoxically impressionable, starting violently and trembling at the slightest noise in life. Apocalyptical presentiments had been gaining strength since the end of the seventeenth century. The so-called "awakening" [Erweckung] typified the age, especially among the broad mass of the population. The theoretical appeal to the heart provides additional testimony about this awakening. The "awakening of Grace" [Durchbruch der Gnade], as the pietists expressed it, above all meant a personal ordeal: a gift of experience.

"Dispassion" is wholly compatible with such a vision. Contemporary mysticism possessed a restrained will, but not a temperate heart or imagination. A new generation grew up with this outlook. Scarcely by accident did the Rosicrucian A.M. Kutuzov 115 translate Edward Young's Complaint, or Night Thoughts. 116 Young's book did not merely serve as a confession of a sentimental man, but as a guide for this newly awakened and sensitive generation. "I twice read Young's Nights as the good news, not as a poem," recalled one of that generation. The qualification should be made that such a melancholic "philosophy of sighs and tears" signified only a transfigured humanism. "O be a man, and thou shalt be a god! And half self-made. " Man alone has been summoned to labor, not in the world but within himself, in "seraphical dreams." "Mankind was not created for broad knowledge or for profound understanding but for wonder and reverent emotions." The call was to inner concentration. "Our worldly deeds have been curbed — one must not conquer things but thoughts — guard your thoughts as best you can, for Heaven attends to them." Such an attitude served as a barrier to freethinking. I.G. Schwartz 117 reportedly devoted a very large portion of his lectures to criticizing "freethinking and godless books," of such writers as Helvetius, Spinoza, and Rousseau 118 and vanquishing "those rising obscurantists." As A.F. Labzinlly recalls, "a single word from Schwartz struck corrupt and godless books from many hands and put the Holy Bible in their place."

The turn to mysticism produced an abundant literature (printed and in manuscript), most of it translated, as can be seen in the activities of the Typographical Company, opened in Moscow in 1784, as well as in the productions from secret presses. Western mystics were best represented, with Jacob Boehme, 120 Claude de Saint-Martin 121, and John Mason 122 the most widely read. S.I. Gamaleia 123 translated all of Boehme's writings (the translation remained unpublished). Valentin Wiegel, Johann Gichtel and John Pordage 124 also appeared in translation. A great many "Hermetic" writers were translated, including Welling, Kirchberger, Triridarium Chymicum, the Chemical Psalter by Penn, Chrizomander, and Robert Fludd. 125 Moreover, there was a wide assortment of modern and ancient writers such as Macarius of Egypt, St. Augustine's selected works, the Areopagitica, and even Gregory Palamas, The Imitation of Christ, Johann Arndt's On True Christianity, L. Scupoli, Angelus Silesius, Bunyan, Molinos, Poiret, Guyon, and Duzetanovo's Mystery of the Cross. 126 A great deal of reading was done in the lodges according to a strictly prescribed order and under the supervision and guidance of the masters. Those outside the lodges read with equally great avidity. The publications of the Moscow freemasons sold well. Thus, the newborn Russian intelligentsia all at once acquired a complete system of mystical enthusiasms and embraced the western mystical-utopian tradition and the rhythm of post-Reformation mysticism. The intelligentsia, studied and grew accustomed to quietist mystics, pietists, and (to some extent) the church fathers. (Late in life Elagin 127 developed a complete system of patristic readings, apparently as a counterweight to Schwartz.).

Freemasonry did not limit itself to a culture of the heart. Freemasonry had its own metaphysics and dogmatics. Its metaphysics made freemasonry an anticipation and premonition of Romanticism and Romantic Naturphilosophie. The experience of the Moscow Rosicrucians (and later of freemasonry' during Alexander I's 128 reign) prepared the soil for the development of Russian Schellingianism 129 (especially in Prince V.F. Odoevskii) 130 which germinated from those same magical roots. Two motifs are important in this magical mysticism, this "divine alchemy." The first is the vital feeling for world harmony or universal unity, the wisdom of the world and the mystical apprehension of nature. "We always have before our eyes the open book of nature. Divine wisdom shines forth from it with fiery words." The second motif is a vivid anthropocentric self awareness: man as the "extract of all beings."

Naturphilosophie was not a chance episode or deformity of freemasonry's worldview; it was one of freemasonry's essential themes, representing an awakened religio-cosmic awareness — "nature is the house of God, where God himself dwells." 131 Naturphilosophie also represented an awakened poetic and metaphysical sense for nature (for example, the renewed sense of nature in eighteenth century "sentimental" analysis). Yet, ultimately mystical freemasonry gravitated toward disembodiment. Symbolic interpretation makes the world so attenuated that it is nearly reduced to a shadow. In essence, the dogmatics of freemasonry signified a revival of a Platonized gnosticism: a revival which had begun during the Renaissance. The fall of man the "spark of light" imprisoned in darkness — prevides freemasonry's basic conception. This acute sense of impurity, not so much of sin, is highly characteristic of the movement. Impurity can rather better be removed through abstinence than through penitence. The entire world appears corrupt and diseased. "What is this world? A mirror of corruption and vanity." The thirst for healing (and for cosmic healing) aroused by the "search for the key to Nature's mysteries," derived from this view of nature.

None of the freemasons of Catherine's reign was an original writer or thinker. Schwartz, Novikov, Kheraskov, Lopukhin, Karneev, and Gamaleia 132 were all imitators, translators, and epigoni. Such qualities, however, do not diminish their influence. During the 1770's Moscow University stood entirely under the banner of the freemasons, and its "devout-poetic" mood was preserved in the university pension for the nobility established later.

G.S. Skovoroda (1722-1794) 133 provides the only original mutation in this mystical strain. He spent little time in the masonic lodges, yet he was close to masonic circles. In any case, he belongs to the same mystical type. He sympathized even more deeply with German mysticism of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, preferring Valentin Wiegel to Jacob Boehme. Hellenistic motifs are also powerfully present in him.

In his Life of Skovoroda, Kovalinskii 134 enumerates Skovoroda's favorite authors: Plutarch Philo the Jew, Cicero, Horace, Lucian, Clement of Alexandria Origen, Nil, Dionysius the Areopagite, Maxim the Confessor "and similar writers among the moderns." Skovoroda's patristic reflections fused with the motifs of the Platonist renaissance. Latin poets exercised a strong influence over him, as did some modern ones, for example, Muretus, 135 whom he often simply translated, thereby allowing the influence of the schools to be seen. However his book on poetics composed at the Pereiaslavl' Seminary is a highly unusual work. In any case, Skovoroda's Latin was stronger than his Greek. As Kovalinskii notes: "He spoke Latin and German flawlessly and quite fluently, and he had a sufficient understanding of Greek." Skovoroda's Latin style was graceful and simple, but generally speaking he felt less at home in Greek. Curiously, when using Plutarch in the parallel Greek and Latin edition, he read only the Latin translation. Skovoroda did not acquire his Hellenism immediately and directly. His philological inspiration must not be exaggerated. He always used the "Elizabeth Bible," 136 while simply borrowing all his mystical philology from Philo.

How Skovoroda developed his outlook is difficult to determine. Little is known about the places he stayed or the people he met when he was abroad. Probably he had already acquired his Stoic, Platonic, and pietist interests in Kiev. His wanderings and lack of native roots (he had "the heart of a citizen of the world"), which lent him the quality of a near apparition, constituted a peculiarly characteristic feature of Skovoroda's make-up. His personality vividly displays an ascetical pathos, a concentration of thought, an extinction of emotions (which are insatiable), an escape from the "emptiness" of this world into the "caverns of the heart." Skovoroda accepted and interpreted the world according to the categories of Platonic symbolism. "At all times and in all places he was like the shadow of the apple tree." Shadow and sign were his favorite images.

Basic to Skovoroda's view was his counterposition of two worlds: the visible, sensible world and the invisible, ideal world. One is temporary, the other eternal. He always had the Bible in his hands. ("The Bible was the most important thing," as Kovalinskii notes). But for him the Bible formed a book of philosophical parables, symbols, and emblems: a peculiar hieroglyphics of existence. "A world of symbols, that is to say, the Bible," as Skovoroda himself said. He sharply reacted against any historical understanding of the Bible by "those Christian historians, ritual sophists, and theologians of the letter." He sought a "spiritual" understanding and saw the Bible as a guide to spiritual self-knowledge. Curiously, Skovoroda totally rejected monasticism. "In monasticism," writes Kovalinskii, "he saw the sinister web of compressed passions unable to escape themselves, while pitifully and fatally suffocating life."

In an important sense, Skovoroda's wandering led him away from the church and away from church history. (Even Ern 137 admitted that Skovoroda was a "potential sectarian.") His return to Nature is a variety of pietist Rousseauism. He trusted nature: "the entire economy throughout nature is perfect."

Freemasonry provided the nascent Russian intelligentsia with many new and acute impressions. This development gained complete expression only with the following generation at the turn of the century. Yet the experience of freemasonry was a western experience, and in the final analysis such asceticism outside the church served only to arouse dreaminess and imagination. The soul developed an unhealthy inquisitiveness and mystical curiosity.

The second half of the century also marked an increasing dreaminess and mysticism among the people. All of the basic Russian sects — the Khlysty, 138 Skoptsy, 139 Dukhobors, 140 and Molokans 141 developed during those years. In the Alexandrine age, these two currents, the mysticism of the lower and the higher classes in many ways converged, thereby revealing their inner affinity. They shared precisely that "anguish of the spirit" which was by turns dreamy or ecstatic. It should be noted that during Catherine's reign substantial settlements, or colonies, of various German sectarians had been created in Russia and included the Herrnhutters, the Mennonites, and Moravian Brethren. Their influence on the general development of contemporary spiritual life still has not been sufficiently investigated and studied, although that influence became perfectly obvious during Alexander's reign. The majority of these sectarians brought with them this apocalyptical dreaminess, or often outright adventism, and the disposition toward allegory and a "spiritual" interpretation of God's Word.

Oddly enough, the colony of Herrnhutters in Sarpeta had been approved by a special commission which included Dimitri Sechenov, 142 the metropolitan of Novgorod, who had investigated the dogmatic teachings of the "Evangelical Brethren." The Synod also stated that in its dogmatics and discipline the brotherhood more or less conformed to the organization of the early Christian communities. 143 The Synod found it inconvenient to openly permit the colonists to do missionary work among the natives, as they persistently requested. Permission to do so was granted informally. However, such missionary work did not develop.

The freemasons of Catherine's reign maintained an ambivalent relationship with the church. In any event, the formal piety of freemasonry was not openly disruptive. Many freemasons fulfilled all church "obligations" and rituals. Others emphatically insisted on the complete immutability and sacredness of the rites and orders "particularly of the Greek religion." However the Orthodox service, with its wealth and plasticity of images and symbols, greatly attracted them. Freemasons highly valued Orthodoxy's tradition of symbols whose roots reach back deeply into classical antiquity. But every symbol was for them only a transparent sign or guidepost. One must ascend to that which is being signified, that is, from the visible to the invisible, from "historical" Christianity to spiritual or "true" Christianity, from the outer church to the "inner" church. The freemasons considered their Order to be the "inner" church, containing its own rites and "sacraments." This is once again the Alexandrian dream of an esoteric circle of chosen ones who are dedicated to preserving sacred traditions: a truth revealed only to a few chosen for extraordinary illumination.

Members of the clergy sometimes joined masonic lodges, although they did so very infrequently. In 1782, when the Moscow masons opened their "translation seminary" (that is, they formed a special group of students to whom they provided stipends), they chose the candidates for it from among provincial seminaries by consultation with the local hierarchs. During the investigation of 1786, Metropolitan Platon found Novikov an exemplary Christian. However, the Moscow metropolitan's standards were not very strict.

The Reawakening of Russian Monasticism.

The end of the eighteenth century did not resemble its beginning. The century had begun with an effort to realize the Reformation in the Russian church. During Catherine's reign "reforms" were also drafted but in the spirit of the Enlightenment. 144 Yet the century ended with a monastic revival and with an unmistakable intensification and increase of spiritual life. Deserted and devastated monastic centers such as Valaamo, Konovitsa, and others were reinstated and took on a new life. Curiously enough, Metropolitan Gavriil Petrov 145 zealously promoted this monastic restoration. This great and important bishop of Catherne's reign (to whom the Empress dedicated her translation of Marmon tel's Belisaire 146) strictly observed the fasts, devoted himself to prayer and pursued an ascetical life not just in theory but in practice. His close supervision secured the publication of the Slavonic-Russian edition of the Philokalia 147 translated by the elder [starets] Paisii Velichkovskii and his disciples. Thus the church replied to the shallowness of an Enlightened Age with a renewed spiritual concentration.

The image of St. Tikhon Zadonskii (1724-1782) 148 stands out in bold relief against the background of the eighteenth century. His personality contains many unusual and unexpected traits. In spiritual temperament Tikhon entirely belonged to the new post-Petrine epoch. He studied and then taught in the Latin schools (in Novgorod and Tver'). In addition to the church fathers, he read and loved modern western writers, and particularly enjoyed "reading and rereading Arndt." That his chief work, On True Christianity [Ob istinnom khristianstve] bears the same title as Arndt's book is scarcely an accident. As Evgenii Bolkhovitinov long ago pointed out, another of Tikhon's books, A Spiritual Treasury Gathered from the World [Sokrovishche dukhovnoe ot mira sobiraemoe], is very similar in content to that of a Latin pamphlet by Joseph Hall. 149 Tikhon's language is suffused by the new age. Frequent Latinisms occur in turns of phrase which, however, increase his range and strengthen his expressiveness. He had a great gift for words; he was artistic and simple at the same time. His writing is always surprisingly limpid. This limpidity is his most unexpected quality. His grace and lucidity, his freedom — and not merely freedom from the world but also in the world — is the most striking quality in St. Tikhon's personality. He has the easy grace of a pilgrim or traveler neither deflected nor restrained by this world. "Every living being on earth is a wayfarer." However, this conquering grace was achieved through painful trial and ascetic effort. The dark waves of deep weariness and despair are quite clearly visible in Tikhon's limpid spirit as they rush over him. "Constitutionally he was a hypochondriac and somewhat choleric," writes Tikhon's "cellsman" (monk servant). His peculiar subjective despair, his special temptation to melancholy as a form of uncustomary disclosure of the soul, is wholly unique in Russian asceticism and more readily suggestive of the Dark Night of the Soul by St. John of the Cross. 150 At times Tikhon would fall into a helpless torpor, confinement, and immobility, when everything around him was dark, empty, and unresponsive. Sometimes he could not compel himself to leave his cell; at other times he seemingly tried to escape physically from despair by moving about. Tikhon's whole spirit had been overwhelmed in this ordeal, yet that trial left no traces or scars. The original luminosity of his soul was only purified in his personal progress.

His was not merely a personal asceticism, for St. Tikhon's temptations were not just a stage in his personal progress. He continued to be a pastor and a teacher in his monastic retreat. Through his sensitivity and suffering he remained in the world. He wrote for this world and bore witness of the Savior before a perishing world, which does not seek salvation: an apostolic response to the senselessness of a free-thinking age. Tikhon's encounter was the first encounter with the new Russian atheism (for example, the well-known episode of the Voltarian landowner who struck Tikhon on the cheek). 151

Dostoevskii cleverly detected this phenomenon when he sought to counterpose Tikhon to Russian nihilism, thereby disclosing the problematics of faith and atheism. Tikhon had still another characteristic trait. He wrote (or more often dictated) with inspiration, under the influence of the Holy Spirit. His "cellsman" recounts this practice.

As I heard it from my own lips, but also as I observed myself, whenever I took dictation from him, the words poured from his mouth so rapidly that I scarcely succeeded in writing them down. And when the Holy Spirit became less active in him and he became lost in thought or began thinking of extraneous things, he would send me away to my cell; while he, kneeling, or at times prostrating himself in the form of a cross, would pray with tears that God should send him the All-Activating One. Summoning me once again, he would begin to speak so torrentially that at times I failed to follow him with my pen.

St. Tikhon constantly read the Scriptures and at one time contemplated making a translation of the New Testament from Greek "into the modern style." He considered useful a new translation of the Psalter from Hebrew. His favorites among the church fathers were Macarius of Egypt, St. John Chrysostom, and St. Augustine.

Tikhon's writings contain all the borrowed ideas about redemptive "satisfaction," the distinction between form and substance in the sacraments, and so on. 152 Such is his tribute to the schools and to the age. Far more important is the fact that several western features are expressed in his experience. Above all this means his unremitting concentration on the memory and contemplation of Christ's sufferings. He saw Christ "covered with wounds, lacerated, tortured, and bloody," and he urged the contemplation of His suffering. "He had a great love for the Savior's sufferings, and not only as he beheld them in his mind, for he had portrayed in picture nearly all of His holy passions" (The pictures were painted on canvass). Tikhon preserved a peculiar insistence and a certain impressionism when speaking of the Humiliation and the Passion of Christ. Moreover, a renovated Byzantine contemplative life is powerfully present in his experience, in his radiant visions, illuminations by the light of Tabor, pathos of the Transfiguration, and premonitions of Resurrection spring.

The resurrection of the dead is a constantly recurring thought for Tikhon and is embodied in the image of spring. "Spring is the image and sign of the resurrection of the dead." This will be the eternal spring of the God-created world. "Let faith guide your mind from this sensible spring to that sublime and longed for spring which the most gracious God has promised in His Holy Scripture, when the bodies of the faithful who have died since the beginning of the world, germinating from the earth like seeds by the power of God, shall arise and assume a new and exquisite form, shall be clothed in the garment of immortality, shall receive the crown of blessedness from the hand of the Lord." This will be no idyll of apokatastasis. On the contrary, nature stained by sin will be condemned even more for its aridity and tarnish and will acquire a still more niggardly appearance. Eternity is not the same for all: there is an eternity of bliss and an eternity of weeping. Tikhon had these visions of Tabor frequently, sometimes daily. The heavens would be torn asunder and would burn with unendurable radiance. Occasionally he even saw this light in his cell and his heart would rejoice in such contemplations.

St. Tikhon combined an intense concentration of the spirit with an exceptional capacity for tenderness and love. He spoke of love of thy neighbor, of social justice and charity no less resolutely than did St. John Chrysostom. St. Tikhon was an important writer. Grace and plasticity of images adorn his books. His On True Christianity in particular has historical significance. The book is less a dogmatic system than a book of mystical ethics or ascetics, yet it marks the first attempt at a living theology; the first attempt at a theology based on experience, in contrast and as a counterweight to scholastic erudition, which lacks any such experience.

Tikhon Zadonskii and the elder Paisii Velichkovskii (1722- 1794) 153 had little in common. As spiritual types, they little resemble one another. However they shared a common labor. The elder Paisii, was not an independent thinker, and he was rather more a translator than even a writer. Yet he occupies his own prominent place in the history of Russian thought. There is something symbolic in the fact that as a young man he left the Kiev Academy where he was studying and wandered first to the Moldavian sketes and then to Mount Athos. In Kiev he had firmly refused to study and had ceased to do so, for he did not wish to study the pagan mythology which alone was taught in the Academy: "where I often heard of Greek gods and goddesses and pious tales, and heartily despised such teaching." Obviously he had in mind the mere reading of classical authors. At the Academy, Paisii got no farther than syntax, and "I had studied only the grammatical teachings of the Latin language." Sil'vestr Kuliabka, 154 served as rector at that time. According to tradition, Paisii reprimanded him for the fact that the church fathers were so little read at the Academy.

Paisii left the Latin school for the Greek monastery. However, he did not retreat from or reject knowledge. His actions mark a return to the living sources of patristic theology and thinking about God. Above all, Paisii was a founder of monasteries — both on Athos and in Moldavia. He restored the best "rules" of Byzantine monasticism. He seemed to be returning to the fifteenth century. Not accidentally, the elder Paisii was very close to St. Nil of the Sora, 155 whose interrupted work Paisii revived and continued (his literary dependence on St. Nil is fully obvious). This work signified the return of the Russian, spirit to the Byzantine fathers. While still on Mount Athos, Paisii began gathering and verifying Slavic translations of ascetical writings. This turned out to be an arduous task, due to the lack of skill of old translators and to the carelessness of copyists. Moreover, even collecting Greek manuscripts proved extremely difficult. Paisii did not find the books he needed in the great monasteries or sketes but in the small and isolated skete of St. Basil built not long before by newly arrived monks from Caesarea in Cappadocia. There he was told that "since these books are written in the purest Hellenic Greek, which now few Greeks other than scholars can read, and which the majority cannot understand, such books have been almost completely forgotten."

After his resettlement in Moldavia, the elder Paisii's translation project became more systematic, especially in the Niamets monastery. Paisii clearly understood all the difficulties of translation and the thorough knowledge of languages it required. At first he relied on Moldavian translators. He formed a large circle of scribes and tranlators, and he sent his students to learn Greek even in Bucharest. He engaged in this work with great enthusiasm.

How he wrote occasioned wonder: his body was so weak from sores: sores covered his right side; however, until he went to rest on his deathbed, he surrounded himself with books: there, side by side, stood the Greek and Slavic Bibles, Greek and Slavic Grammars, and the book from which he was making a translation by candlelight; and like a little child he sat bent over writing all night, forgetting his bodily weakness, severe illnesses and difficulty.

Paisii was an exacting translator and he was afraid to circulate his translations widely "if they were lame or imperfect." His disciples also made translations from Latin.

Under Paisii's guidance, Niamets monastery became a great literary center and a source of theological-ascetical enlightenment. This literary activity was organically linked with spiritual and "intellectual construction." The biographer of the elder Paisii notes that "his mind was always joined with love for God; his tears serve as witness." The message of spiritual concentration and wholeness possessed particular significance for that age of spiritual dualism and cleavage. Publication of the Slavonic-Russian edition of the Philokalia constituted a major event not only in the history of Russian monasticism but generally in the history of Russian culture. It was both an accomplishment and a catalyst.

Feofan Prokopovich and Paisii Velichkovskii make an interesting comparison. Feofan lived entirely on expectations. He stood for what was modern, for the future, and for progress. Paisii lived in the past, in traditions, and in Tradition. Yet he proved to be the prophet and the harbinger of things to come. The return to sources revealed new roads and meant the acquisition of new horizons

The Russian Bible Society.

[...] This personal conviction and sense of being a prophet who has been called or sent, the perception of an extraordinary mission or task, and a certain ecstatic egocentricity all characterize this type of fanatic. Fotii might be termed a man possessed rather than a hypocrite. In any case, the voice of the church's history and ancient traditions can scarcely be detected in Fotii's violent appeals and outbursts. He was too ignorant to do so, for he knew very little about patristic or even ascetical writings. He almost never refers to them. "I do not possess the [writings of the] Holy Fathers, I have and read only the Holy Bible." In this regard, Fotii did not depart from the custom of that "Biblical" age. Neither a rigorous defender nor guardian of the church's customs and traditions, Fotii loved to do everything to suit himself, which, resulted in quarrels with the church authorities. Usually he argues on the basis of personal revelations and inspirations; on the basis of visions apparitions, and dreams. In short, Fotii was not so much superstitious as fanatical.

Fotii studied at the St. Petersburg Theological Academy "under the sharp eye of Archimandrite Filaret." But he did not graduate because of an illness, which took the form of a paroxysm induced by fears and spiritual exhaustion. Fotii became confused and paralyzed by the mysticism then prevalent in society. Many at the academy read too deeply in the poisonous books of the liar and apostate Jung-Stilling.

Newly published writings, such as Stilling, Eckartshausen, and similar novelistic and freethinking books could be read at the academy. . .Quarrels broke out over the Thousand Year Reign of Christ on earth, eternal damnation, and other religious questions; some loved to deviate from the Holy Scriptures, others found mysteries everywhere. The academy library would not lend the works of the Holy Fathers, for no one gave permission or provided the example. German and other foreign commentators on the Holy Scriptures, who caused more harm than they did good, were recommended and passed around.

Fotii became utterly confused in such an environment. He also seems to have learned a good deal during the little more than a year he spent at the academy, although there is little likelihood that he learned and became trained "to discover mysteries everywhere." Nor did the academy infect him with a fashionable mania for interpreting the Apocalypse and divining the times through apocalyptical texts used as signs. Where Fotii's actual or imaginary enemies adduced the Kingdom of a Thousand Years from such texts, Fotii discerned the Antichrist. "The wood is already stacked and the fire is being kindled."

After leaving the academy, Fotii became a teacher at the Aleksandr Nevskii schools, where he was under the supervision of Rector Innokentii. 111 In 1817, Fotii accepted tonsure and was quickly appointed a teacher of religion in the second military academy. 112 While his field of vision expanded, Fotii continued to gather polemical materials, reading, re-reading, and reviewing newly printed seditious books, "especially those either manifestly or secretly revolutionary and pernicious." His assortment and inventory of such books was rather diverse and disjointed and included books on English materialism, French pornography, freemasonry and magic, German philosophy, the sorcery of Boehme, Stilling, and similarly "satanic books," "revolutionary and evil" books, "wretched Masonic" books, the works of that "Masonic heretic" Fenelon and that "foul French woman " Guyon, and other works such as those "setting forth the teachings of the Methodists and the quietists, that is, of that Jacobinism and philosophy which hides behind the mask of Christianity." Fotii always remained mistrustful of the "newly educated" clergy: "not a single collaborator was found suitable; each was prepared to put the truth up for sale."

The Russian Bible made its appearance against this background. At first Fotii attacked actual Masons. As he put it, "At the risk of my life, I acted to counter Messenger of Zion [Sionskii Vestnik], Labzin, the Masonic lodges and heresies, trying to halt the spread of their schisms." Fotii was correct about many things, but he described all such defects with an hysterical intensity which could be more irritating than convincing. He possessed a peculiarly ecstatic suspiciousness which disfigured his accurate observations through the addition of imaginary and imperceivable traits. Metropolitan Mikhail appointed Innokentii to calm Fotii. But Innokentii only further aroused him with his own bitter remarks about the snares of the devil. Fotii later wrote a Life [Zhitie] of Innokentii after his own likeness or in keeping with his imagined ideal. In reality, Innokentii was more subtle and profound, although he lacked sufficient self-control and patience.

Fotii soon came to be too obstreperous for the capital and was dispatched to Novgorod as abbot of the Derevianits Monastery, then Skovoroda Monastery, and finally the Iur'ev Monastery, where he served as archimandrite. While at the Iur'ev Monastery, Fotii formed a close friendship with Countess A.A. Orlova, 113 which proved to be the decisive event in his life. Through "Countess Anna," Fotii unexpectedly began his friendship with Prince Golitsyn during those same years. Their correspondence which has been preserved, possesses a warm and sincere character. 114 In his "autobiography," Fotii recalls his long and extensive conversations with Golitsyn at Countess Orlova's home. These talks sometimes lasted nine hours without interruption. Fotii emphasizes that Golitsyn passionately came to love him and was prepared to fulfill his every wish. Judging by Golitsyn's actual letters, Fotii did not exaggerate. He succeeded for a time in reconciling Golitsyn with Metropolitan Seraphim. Golitsyn saw in Fotii another St. John Chrysostom and a "youthful starets" [elder]. At the time, Fotii was barely thirty. Fotii did not conceal his own warm feelings: "You and I — the two of us — are like one body and soul, one mind and heart; we are one because Christ is in our midst."

The "uprising" broke out in 1824. As Filaret recalls, "The uprising against the Ministry of Religious Affairs and against the Bible Society and the translation of the Holy Scriptures had been organized by people guided by personal interests, who not only spread farfetched and exaggerated suspicions, but even produced fabrications and slanders, hoping to attract other, well-intentioned people to their cause." Arakcheev's115 role in this intrigue needs no elaboration. For him the intrigue was the denouement and the means for removing from authority and influence a powerful rival with personal ties to the Tsar.

The appearance of Gossner's book On the Gospel of Matthew [O Evangelii ot Matfeia] in Russian translation served as the occasion and the pretext for decisive action. The translation could only have been an excuse, for the book was indistinguishable from the multitude of such edifying and pietistic works then being published. Several times Fotii wrote frenzied letters to the Tsar, warning him of danger. He did so with the knowledge and conviction that he had been consecrated and sent to testify in defense of the beleaguered church and fatherland. An angel of the Lord had been sent to him on Palm Sunday. The angel, appearing before him during a dream, held in his hand a book with large letters inscribed on its cover: "this book has been composed for revolution and at this moment its intention is revolution." The book, it turned out, was A Summons to men to follow the inner inclination of the Spirit of Christ. 116 Fotii defines the basic idea of this cunning and impious pamphlet as "an appeal to apostasy from the faith of Christ and a summons to alter the civil order in all of its parts."

The only argument which might possibly undermine the combined ministry in the eyes of Alexander I was "revolution." Fotii candidly says that: "Such political activities and plots had much greater influence on him [Alexander] than did the welfare of the whole Church." Religiously, Alexander was no less radical than Golitsyn. Fotii testified that "residing in this city for one and a half months, I secretly observed Gossner and learned that he was preparing revolution in those minds which he had been brought here to teach. He has been so well protected that no one dares touch him; he was summoned here because none among our Orthodox clergy could be found capable of such schemes." Fotii's letters aroused the Tsar's interest precisely because of their hysterically apocalyptical character. Consequently, he wished to meet Fotii personally. He had earlier met with Metropolitan Seraphim. After his audience with Alexander, Fotii twice visited Golitsyn and at the second meeting cursed him to his face.

Fotii stands before the holy icons: a candle burns, the holy sacraments of Christ are before him, the Bible is open (at Jeremiah 23). The prince enters like a beast of prey (Jeremiah 5:6), extending his hand for the blessing. But Fotii gives him no blessing, speaking thus: in the book Mystery of the Cross [Tainstvo kresta], printed under thy supervision, it is written: the clergy are beasts; and I, Fotii, a member of the clergy, am a priest of God, so I do not want to bless thee, and anyway thou dost not need it. (He gave him Jeremiah 23 to read). However, Prince Golitsyn refused to do so and fled, but Fotii shouted after Golitsyn through the door he left ajar: if thou dost not repent, thou shalt fall into Hell.

That is Fotii's version. In his Notes [Zapiski], Shishkov adds that: "Fotii shouted after him; `Anathema! Thou shalt be damned.'"

That same day, a rescript was issued exiling Gossner from the country and ordering that the Russian translation of his book be burned at the hand of the public executioner. Furthermore, the translators and censors were to be placed under arrest. Fotii greatly feared the Tsar's wrath for his daring anathema, but he continued to send his appeals to the court, including one outlining a "plan for the destruction of Russia" as well as "directives for the immediate destruction of this plan in a quiet and felicitous manner." The question of the Bible Society was posed most forcefully. "The Bible Society must be eliminated on the pretext that since the Bible has already been printed, it is now no longer needed." The Ministry of Religious Affairs was to be abolished, and its present dignitary deprived of two other posts. Koshelev 117 should be removed, Gossner expelled, Fessler 118 banished into exile, and the Methodists driven out, or at least their leaders. Once again Fotii invoked divine inspiration: "Divine Providence does not now reveal that anything more should be done. I have proclaimed God's commandment; its fulfillment depends on Thee. Precisely twelve years have elapsed from 1812 to 1824. God conquered the visible Napoleon who invaded Russia. Through Thy person let Him conquer the spiritual Napoleon:" During the ensuing days, Fotii sent the Tsar several more of his alarming "massives." "A great, fearful, and illegal mystery is at work, which I am revealing to thee, O thou powerful one with the strength and spirit of God." The goal was achieved and on 15 May 1824, Golitsyn was dismissed, the combined ministry abolished, and the former departmental divisions reestablished. Nevertheless, Golitsyn did not fall into disfavor or lose his personal influence, even after Alexander's death.

The aged Admiral Shishkov, "the half-dead Shishkov dug up from oblivion," was appointed minister of a separate Ministry of Education. Although Shishkov did not become Minister of Religious Affairs, inertia perpetuated the politics of the combined ministry only in reverse, for he persistently interfered with Synodal affairs. Shishkov had no very precise religious views. He was a moderate free-thinker of the eighteenth century, who limited his rationalism out of national-political considerations. Even close friends who were well disposed toward him testified that Shishkov held "views closely approximating, if they did not actually coincide with, Socinianism." 119 Fotii referred to him rather evasively: "He defended the Orthodox Church to the extent that he possessed any knowledge." Fotii knew perfectly well such "knowledge" was rather meager and related more to the church's role in a state, which had called upon it to be a pillar and a bulwark against rebellion and revolution. However, Shishko had his own firm opinions about Biblical translation. The very idea of translating the Bible seemed to him the foulest of heresies, although above all a "literary heresy," in Sverbeev's 120 clever phrase. For Shishkov denied the very existence of a Russian language. "As though it was something distinct," he would say perplexedly. "Our Slavic and Russian language is one and the same, differentiated only into higher language and common speech." This was Shishkov's basic religious-philological thesis. Literary or colloquial Russian in his view and understanding is "only the dialect of the common people" within a Slavic-Russian language. "What is the Russian language divorced from Slavic? A dream, a riddle!. . . .Is it not odd to affirm the existence of a language which does not contain a single word?" The lexicon is one and the same for both styles of dialects. "By Slavic we mean nothing else than that language which is higher than colloquial and which, consequently, can only be learned by reading; it is the lofty, learned literary language."

In the final analysis, Shishkov distinguished between the two languages: the "language of faith" and the "language of passions " or to put it another way, the "language of the church" and the "language of the theater." Biblical translation appeared to him to be a "transposition" of the Word of God from the lofty and dignified dialect to that low-styled language of the passions and the theater. He believed that such a step was being taken in order to deliberately belittle the Bible, hence his constant fuss over "the observance of Orthodoxy in literary style." He also considered the translation hastily made; "thrown to a few students at the Academy with instructions to do it as quickly as possible." The Russian translation's departure from Church Slavic cast a shadow on a text, which had become familiar and hallowed by church usage and thereby undermined confidence in it. "The pride of some monk [Filaret?] or learned braggart says: thus it is in Hebrew. Well, who will convince me that he knows the full force of such a little known language, written so long ago?" Quite frequently Shishkov speaks as if Slavic was the original language of Holy Scripture. "How dare they alter words considered to come from the mouth of God?"

Shishkov was not alone in these religious-philological reflections. Curiously enough, for similar reasons, Speranskii also completely opposed a Russian translation of the Bible. The language of the "common people" seemed to him less expressive and precise. Would it not be better to teach everyone Slavic? Speranskii advised his daughter to use the English translation, not the Russian, when she encountered difficult passages. Many others shared this opinion. 121

Shishkov detected a particularly sinister scheme in the publication of the Pentateuch "separately from the Prophets." Whereas in fact, the Pentateuch represented the first volume of a complete Russian Bible and had been planned for publication prior to the succeeding volumes in order to speed the work. Shishkov suspected that this separate publication had been conceived and executed in order to push the common people into the arms of the Molokane heresy or simply into Judaism. Might not someone understand the Mosaic law literally, particularly the observance of the Sabbath? . . . .Should not a qualification be added that all this can be explained figuratively and as shadows of the past? With the support of Metropolitan Seraphim, Shishkov succeeded in having the Russian Pentateuch burned at the brick factory of the Aleksandr Nevskii Monastery. Subsequently, Filaret of Kiev 122 could not recall this destruction of the Holy Scriptures without a terrible shudder.

Shishkov saw no need to distribute the Bible among laymen and the people generally. "Will not this imaginary need, by demeaning the significance of the Holy Scriptures, result in nothing other than heresies or schisms?" Would not the dignity of the Bible be lowered by having it in the home? "What can come of this? . . . .A vast sum will be expended in order that the Gospel, heretofore regarded with solemnity might suffer the loss of its importance, be sullied, ripped apart, thrown under benches, or serve as wrapping paper for household goods, and have no more ability to act on the human mind than on the human heart." Shishkov writes still more emphatically that "this reading of the sacred books aims to destroy the true faith, disrupt the fatherland and produce strife and rebellion." He believed that the Bible Society and revolution were synonyms.

Quite consistently, Shishkov also objected to translation of the Bible into other languages such as Tatar or Turkish, for who could vouch for the fidelity of the translation? Shishkov also feared commentaries on the Bible. Who will explain the Scriptures once they are so widely distributed and so easily accessible?

Without qualified interpreters and preachers, what will be the effect when large numbers of Bibles and separate books of the Bible have been disseminated? Amidst such an unchecked (and one might say universal) deluge of books of the Holy Scriptures, where will room be found for the Apostolic teachings, practices, and customs of the Church? In a word, for everything which heretofore has served as a bulwark of Orthodoxy? . . . All of these things will be dragged down, crushed, and trampled under foot.

Similarly, Shishkov viewed the publication of the Catechism [Katekhizis] as a dire plot. Why print so many copies, if not to spread an impure-faith? (A total of 18,000 copies had been printed). Once again the Russian language more than anything else frightened Shishkov. "It is unseemly in religious books to have such prayers as `I believe in One God' and the Pater Noster transposed into the common dialect." The Catechism contained scriptural texts in Russian.

The catechism composed by Filaret (a task originally entrusted to Metropolitan Mikhail) had been issued in 1823 with the approval of the Holy Synod and by imperial directive. "At the request of the Minister of Education," accompanied by the use of the Emperor's name, the Catechism was removed from sale at the end of 1824. Filaret immediately lodged a protest against its removal and openly raised the question about Orthodoxy. "If the Orthodoxy of the Catechism, so solemnly confirmed by the Holy Synod, is in doubt, then will not the Orthodoxy of the Holy Synod itself be called into question?" In reply, Metropolitan Seraphim insisted that the question of Orthodoxy had not been raised and that there was no doubt or dispute on that point. The Catechism had been suspended solely because of the language of the Biblical texts and of the "prayers." Seraphim, with some disingenuousness, went on to say, "You may ask why the Russian language should not have a place in the catechism, especially in its abbreviated form intended for young children entirely unfamiliar with Slavic and therefore incapable of understanding the truths of the faith expounded for them in that language, when it, that is, Russian, has been retained in the sacred books of the New Testament and in the Psalms. To this and many other questions, which might be asked in this connection, I cannot give you any satisfactory answer. I hope that time will explain to us that which now seems clouded. In my opinion, that time will soon come . . ."

Seraphim's answer could signify that he either had not personally or actively participated in the new course of events, or that this apparent inconsistency could be quickly overcome by extending the ban to include both the Russian translation of the New Testament and the Bible Society. In any case, Seraphim simply lied when he denied that the Catechism's Orthodoxy had been questioned. Fotii emphatically and publicly pronounced it heretical, compared it with "canal water," and unfavorably contrasted the Catechism with the older Orthodox Confession of Peter Mogila. 123 The Catechism was subjected to examination, if not officially, then at least officiously. Apparently Archpriest I.S. Kochetov (1790-1854), a candidate for a higher degree, who had graduated with the first class of the reformed St. Petersburg Academy, and at that time a religion teacher at the Tsarskoe Selo lycee, had been entrusted with the review. His evaluation, quickly arrived at, did not favor the catechism. Kochetov took more interest in questions of language than of theology. As a philologist, he served as a member of the Russian Academy, beginning in 1828. Later he achieved full membership. 124

Metropolitan Evgenii, 125 who recently had been summoned to attend the meetings of the Holy Synod, maintained a very critical attitude toward the Catechism. Filaret's successor at Tver' and Iaroslavl', Simeon Krylov-Platonov, 126 contemptuously dubbed the Catechism "a miserable pamphlet," containing unheard of teaching and "insufferable insolence." In any event, a revised edition of the Catechism was recirculated only after careful re-examination of all Biblical texts and citations, including their "presentation in Slavic rather than in the Russian dialect." Even the language of exposition was deliberately adapted or made more nearly approximate to Slavic. However, only insignificant changes in content were made at that time.

Shishkov obtained Emperor Alexander's permission to forbid translations of the Bible as well as to close the Bible Society. He was able to supply some arguments himself, and others were suggested to him by such zealots as M. Magnitskii 127 and A.A. Pavlov 128 (who worked in the office of the Over Procurator of the Holy Synod). Fotii described Pavlov as that "brave warrior of 1824." Metropolitan Seraphim acted as one with Shishkov. However, Seraphim acted on suggestion. A timid man, he lacked "sufficient clarity of mind" to distinguish responsibly enthusiasm and suspicions amidst the cross-currents of rumors and fears. Left to himself, Seraphim would have insisted only on the dismissal of the "blind minister." All further reasons were suggested or even imposed on him. At one time Seraphim had studied in Novikov's "seminary," and he had been an active member of the Bible Society, both as archbishop of Minsk and later as metropolitan of Moscow. He often delivered speeches filled with pathos in the meetings of the Moscow Bible Society. However, his sentiments were changed when he transferred to St. Petersburg. He immediately broke with Golitsyn. Following Golitsyn's removal from office, Metropolitan Seraphim, as president of the Bible Society, began to importune Emperor Alexander about abolishing and closing down all Bible societies and transferring all their affairs, property, and translation projects to the Holy Synod.

Such demands were not quickly realized, coming as they did only during the next reign under the fresh impact of the Decembrist revolt, 129 the responsibility for which Shishkov convincingly blamed on the "mystics." However, the rescript of 12 April 1826 closing the Bible Society contained an important qualification: "I sanction the continued sale at the established price for those who desire them the books of the Holy Scriptures which have already been printed by the Bible Society in Slavic, Russian, and in other languages spoken by inhabitants of the Empire." Even Nicholas I 130 was not fully prepared to follow Shishkov. In practice, however, the publications of the Bible Society were taken from circulation and only the committees concerned for prisons continued to supply the Russian translation of the New Testament to exiles and prisoners from their stocks.

Curiously enough, in 1828, Prince K.K. Liven, the former superintendent in Dorpat and a prominent and influential figure in the former Bible Society, replaced Shishkov as Minister of Education. Later, in 1832, he became the head of the revived German Bible Society. Prince Liven belonged to the Moravian Brethren. "Sometimes an official sent from somewhere with an important dispatch would discover him in the reception hall in front of the lectern, loudly singing the Psalms. Turning to the official, he would listen to him, but without answering, continue his liturgy" (Vigel'). Of course, Liven was a German and a Protestant; and it was the German Bible Society, which was restored. Yet as Minister of Education, he was called upon to administer to the whole empire. In any case, by that time, "the views of the government" had changed once again.

[...]

5. Struggle for Theology.

Introduction.

The full significance of the Alexandrine era l for Russia's overall cultural development still remains to be discerned and evaluated. An agitated and pathetic moment, a period of powerfully constructive tensions, the Alexandrine years, with bold naivete, witnessed and experienced the first joys of creativity. Ivan Aksakov 2 successfully characterized this formative moment in Russia's development as one in which poetry suddenly seemed for a time an incontestable historical vocation; poetry "took on the appearance of a sacramental act." A peculiar vitality and independence, a "creative feeling and joy of artistic mastery" suffused all contemporary poetical work. Russia experienced an awakening of the heart.

However, one must immediately add that there was still no awakening of the mind. Imagination remained unbridled and untempered by mental struggle or intellectual asceticism. Thus, people of that generation easily and frequently fell under charms or into dreams or visions. Alexander's reign was generally an age of dreams; an epoch of musings and sighs, as well as a time of sights, insights, and visions. A disjunction of mind and heart, of thought and imagination, characterized the entire period. The age did not suffer so much from the lack of will as it did from an irresponsible heart. "An esthetic culture of the heart replaced moral precepts with delicate feelings," in Kliuchevskii's words. The great frailty and infirmity of pietism provided precisely this defect in the heart.

The Russian soul passed through the ordeal or seduction of pietism at the outset of the nineteenth century — the apogee of Russia's westernism. Catherine's reign seems absolutely primitive in comparison to the triumphant face of the Alexandrine era, when the soul completely gave itself over to Europe. In any event, such a development occurred no earlier than the appearance of Letters of a Russian Traveler (1791-1792).3 Rozanov 4 once aptly remarked that "in the Letters of a Russian Traveler, Russia's soul turned to the marvelous world of Western Europe, wept over it, loved it and comprehended it; whereas in the earlier years of the century, her soul gazed on that world with dulled eyes fixing on nothing."

But in immediately succeeding generations a "Slavophile" opposition, which was not so much a national-psychological opposition as a culturally creative one, began to take shape. The westernism of Alexander's reign, in a real sense, did not mean de-nationalization. On the contrary, this was a period of increased national feeling. However, at that moment the Russian soul took on a perfect resemblance to the Aeolian Harp.

Zhukovskii's with his ingenious diapson and sympathetic, creative ability at reincarnation, with his intense sensitivity and responsiveness, and with his free and immediate language, typifies the period. Yet Zhukovskii was and forever remained (in his lyrical meditations) a western man, a western dreamer, a German pietist always gazing, "like a poet, through the prism of the heart." Hence his astonishing ability for translating German: his German soul simply expressed itself in Russian.

Quite characteristically, this attack of dreaminess broke out under wartime conditions. By the beginning of the nineteenth century, nearly the whole of Europe had become a theater of military operations. Europe was transformed into an armed camp. It was a time of great historical turning points and divisions, of epoch-making storms and stresses. The beginning of the nineteenth century — the era of the Great Fatherland War 6 and Napoleon — witnessed a new migration of peoples: "the invasion of the Gauls accompanied by the twenty nations." Unrest highly charged the surrounding environment. Events acquired a feverish rhythm; the wildest fears and premonitions came to pass. Bewildered, the soul was torn between hopeful anticipation and eschatological impatience. Many believed that they lived in an ever-closing apocalyptical circle. "This is not the quiet dawn of Russia, but the stormy twilight of Europe," Metropolitan Filaret 7 once said.

For a generation of dreamers possessing such unreliable and quite easily aroused imaginations, the ordeal of those violent days proved to be a very harsh trial. Apocalyptical fear awoke and the feeling spread widely that some tangible and immanent Divine guidance had assumed and dissolved individual human wills within itself. The idea of Providence acquired a superstitious and magical reflection in the consciousness of that generation. Men no longer believed in their own abilities. Many experienced and interpreted the Great Fatherland War as an apocalyptical struggle: "A judgment of God on the icy fields." Napoleon's defeat was accounted a victory over the Beast.

Something majestic and almighty could be detected everywhere and in everything. I am almost certain Alexander and Kutuzov had gained the ability to see Him and that His wrathful countenance had shone even on Napoleon. (Vigel') 8

In the prevailing sentiment the spirit of dreamy withdrawal from and rejection of the "formal" or "external" in Christianity combined with the most unrestrained expectation of the visible approach of the Kingdom of God on earth. One must remember that Romanticism and the Enlightenment equally bear the mark of chiliasm. Romanticism's visionary utopianism is partially the heir to the eighteenth century belief in the imminent and immediate realization of ultimate ideals. Whether as an Age of Reason, a Kingdom of God, or as any number of designations, everyone expected a new Golden Age. The goddess Astrea 9 would return. Earthly Paradise once more would be revealed. "Then a genuine New Year shall descend upon the earth."

The psychological history of that age and generation can be understood only from the perspective of these awakened socio-apocalyptical expectations and in the context of all those contemporary and universally stunning events and acts. The history of that age displays a streak of theocratic utopianism.

Alexander I; Prince A.N. Golitsyn; The Coming of Pietism.

Emperor Alexander I may justly be termed the eponym of his age. He typified the epoch in his spiritual formation and style and in his tastes and inclinations. Alexander was reared in the influences of sentimental humanism. From there the step to the mystical religion of the heart was neither long nor difficult. At a very early age, Alexander became used to living in an atmosphere of dreams and expectations, in a peculiar intellectual mimicry, in aspirations and dreams for "the ideal." That pathetic oath sworn by the two monarchs over the grave of Frederick II occurred as early as 1804.10 In any event, Alexander entered the sphere of mystical enthusiasms long before "the flames of Moscow illumined his heart."

Speranskii, 11 writing from Perm, reminded the tsar about their conversations on mystical themes: conversations, which clearly reveal a "subject matter corresponding to the emperor's innermost feelings." However, an even stronger influence was exercised by Rodion Koshelev (1749-1827),12 an old Mason personally acquainted with Lavater, Saint-Martin, Eckartshausen, 13 and even more closely with Prince A. N. Golitsyn. 14 In 1812 Alexander composed a revealing memoir entitled On mystical literature [O misticheskoi literature] for his favorite sister, the Grand Duchess Catherine. He repeats, or reformulates, the advice and program of others, yet one instantly realizes that Alexander has fully assimilated that program, acclimated himself to its style, and that he had already formed definite tastes and preferences. He preferred St. Francis de Sales, 15 St. Teresa of Avila, 16 The Imitation of Christ, 17 and J. Tauler. 18

The Great Fatherland War served only as a catalyst for Alexander, resolving older tensions. He read the New Testament for the first time on the very eve of Napoleon's invasion. The Apocalypse most greatly affected him. Similarly the prophets attracted him most in the Old Testament. From that moment onward, Alexander became curious and credulous of every manner of interpretation and any interpreter of the enigmatic and symbolic Book of Revelation. Precisely such curiosity drew him to Jung-Stilling (J. H. Jung), 19 Baroness Krudener, 20 Pastor Empeitaz, 21 Oberlin, 22 the Moravian Brethern, the Quakers, and the Herrnhutters. 23 Later, two priests from Balta, Feodosii Levitskii and Fedor Lisevich (who considered themselves "two faithful witnesses" from Revelations) were summoned to the capital specifically in order to interpret the Apocalypse. 24 Apparently Alexander was prepared to listen to Archimandrite Fotii 25 because Fotii interpreted Revelations and prophesied and threatened in the name of the Apocalypse and all the prophets. In such historical circumstances, it was not strange to believe that the end was approaching.

Alexander neither loved nor sought power. But he acknowledged that he was the bearer of a sacred idea and revelled in that fact. This belief constituted the source of his moral and political obstinacy (rather than tenacity). Many of that generation detected in themselves a special sign of predestination. The Holy Alliance 26 was conceived and concluded in precisely such a mood. In a way similar to the theories of the Age of Enlightenment, this alliance presupposed a faith in an omnipotent and benevolent Lawgiver, who designed or established an ecumenical peace and a universal happiness. No one had to suggest this idea to Alexander; he discovered it for himself in those events, which seemed so cunningly devised. "The Redeemer Himself teaches the idea and the precepts which we have announced."

The Holy Alliance was conceived as a preparation for the Kingdom of a Thousand Years. As Golitsyn put it: "It will be apparent to anyone who wishes to see, that this act can only be understood as a preparation for that promised Kingdom of the Lord on earth even as it is in Heaven." The act of "Fraternal Christian Alliance" was signed "in the year of Grace 1815, the 14th/26th September," and the fact that the day coincided with the feast of the Elevation of the Holy Cross 27 according to the Eastern Orthodox calendar is scarcely an accident. The Holy Synod ordered that the Act of Holy Alliance be displayed on walls and in every city and village church. And each year on the feast of the Elevation of the Holy Cross the act was to be reannounced from the ambo, along with an accompanying manifesto, "so that each and every person might fulfill his vow of service to the one Lord and Savior, who speaks through the person of the Sovereign for the entire people." A special "combined ministry," a Ministry of Religious Affairs and Public Enlightenment, was established specifically in order to fulfill that vow. 28 According to Speranskii, it was "the greatest governmental act since the introduction of the Christian faith." Strictly speaking, this was to be a Ministry of Religio Utopian Propaganda. The combined ministry was founded "so that Christian piety would always serve as the basis for true enlightenment." In other words, this was a scheme to place religion at the head or center of culture as a whole: "a redemptive union of faith, knowledge and authority." The latter element of this synthesis is the characteristic one, for the idea was to use the power of "authority" to reconcile "faith" and "knowledge." To a significant degree the new ministry served as Prince A. N. Golitsyn's personal department. Perhaps personal regime would be more accurate. With the fall of Golitsyn, the combined ministry was abolished and its departments once more established on separate footings.

Prince A.N. Golitsyn (1773-1844) is perhaps the most characteristic man of that age. In any case, he was certainly its most sensitive and expressive representative. His ability to absorb impressions nearly constituted a sickness. He suffered from an outright mystical curiosity. A man of the Enlightenment no longer in his youth, Golitsyn suddenly experienced a turning of the heart. Yet the sensitivity of this newly converted heart combined with an insensitive and somewhat arid intellect. Prince Golitsyn's dreamy and authoritarian religious temperament rather unexpectedly grew into an organic unity. An aristocratic grandeur sharply pierced his sentimentalism. A man with a trusting and sensitive heart, Golitsyn could and wished to be a dictator, and actually became one for several years. His peculiar "dictatorship of the heart" proved very tiresome and intolerant. Fanaticism of the heart is especially prone to, and easily combined with, a sneering compassion.

Golitsyn converted to "universal Christianity," to a religion of tender imagination and experience of the heart. These were the only qualities in Christianity, which he prized. Hence his interest in sectarian "conversions" and "awakenings," which for him revealed the essence of religion stripped of all its useless trappings. He valued and understood only the symbolism, only the emotional-mysterious inspiration of ritual in "formal" worship and church life. Within that context Golitsyn was totally sincere and sensitive, for to the end of his days he was a man on a quest. The spirit of propaganda or proselytism is very characteristic of such forms of piety. As head of the combined ministry, Golitsyn discovered himself.

At the same time, the combined ministry represented a new link in the chain of Peter I's church reform, a new step toward the realization of that novel ecclesiastical-political regime established at the beginning of the eighteenth century. Still earlier, on the strength of the intimacy and favor bestowed upon him by the emperor, and as friend and "imperial confidant," Golitsyn, as Over Procurator, succeeded in becoming a sort of governor-general of the "Synodal Department." True, in individual cases he defended the church against state encroachments, as for example, when he rejected Speranskii's proposal to turn over to the secular authorities the right to grant divorces. With the establishment of the combined ministry, his earlier demonstrated success took on the full force of law. The Synod became formally integrated within the state administration for "religious affairs," as a special "division for the Greco-Russian confession." The manifesto establishing this new administration expresses the matter as follows:

Of course the affairs of the Most Holy Governing Synod will be attached to it (i.e., the ministry) in order that the Minister of Religious Affairs and Public Enlightenment will have exactly the same relationship to the Synod in these affairs as the Minister of Justice has to the Governing Senate, except, however, in judicial matters.

Fundamental to the design of the combined ministry, as well as to the entire conception of the Holy Alliance, is the religious leadership or supremacy of the "Prince," ruling and administering not only "by the grace of God," but also by Divine authority. As the "treatise" on the Holy Alliance phrased it, "thus confessing that the Christian world, of which they and their subjects form a part, has in reality no other Sovereign than Him to whom alone power truly belongs." The definition provided by Novosiltsev 29 in his "Statutory Charter" makes an interesting comparison: "As the Supreme head of the Orthodox Greco-Russian Church, the Sovereign is elevated to all the honors of the church hierarchy" (Article 20). Such a step forward went beyond Peter and Feofan. The Petrine State subordinated the church from without, and in the name of a secular cause, "the common good," extorted toleration for secularized life. During Alexander's reign, the state once again conceived itself to be holy and sacred, proclaiming religious leadership and imposing its own religious ideas. The Over Procurator seemingly "joined the clergy of the Church" as the "locum tenens for the external bishop" [mestobliustitel' vneshniago episkopa], as Filaret, the future metropolitan of Moscow, greeted Golitsyn on his appointment; or "the great chimera of universal Christianity," as Joseph de Maistre 30 sardonically put it.

The Emperor Alexander professed a mongrel form of Christianity, and pretentiously claimed the right to rule in the name of this "universal" religion. All confessions within the Russian Empire were urged to accommodate themselves to a particular place within the overall system. The combined ministry was to join, if not unite, all confessions or "churches" not only in a common task but with a single inspiration. In this regard, the very complex and highly symbolical plans for the cathedral of Christ the Savior drawn up by A.L. Witberg 31 are very instructive. "I did not wish to raise up an edifice to God, but rather a prayer." This cathedral was not to be merely an Orthodox one, but was also to embody and express "an all-embracing idea." As Witberg himself said: "Its very dedication to Christ proved that it belonged to the entirety of Christianity."

The combined ministry became a cruel and coercive regime. Religious mysticism was invested with the full force of law, with fully decisive sanctions against those who disagreed or who simply acted evasively. Simple lack of sympathy for the ideas of "inner Christianity" was considered a crime, and consequently an act of opposition to the views of the government. One article from a contemporary statute on censorship reads as follows: "Any act is condemned which, under the pretext of defending or justifying one of the Christian churches, reproaches another, thereby destroying the unity of love which binds all Christians together in one spirit in Christ." On the strength of such a statute, analysis of Protestant beliefs from the Orthodox point of view became impermissible. Such a prohibition had existed earlier under Peter and Biron.

The regime of the Holy Alliance signified the ensemblement of conscience and spirit, and constituted the most pretentious form of statism: theocratic statism. Too frequently, the combined ministry proved to be a "Ministry of Obfuscation," as Karamzin dubbed it. And yet, an awakening occurred in this extremely confused and ambiguous historical setting. The state attempted to strengthen and augment the religious needs of the mass of the population. "The efforts of Prince Golitsyn," writes the historian Chistovich, 32 "were directed toward arousing the Russian people from the slumber and indifference which he seemed to find everywhere; awakening in them higher spiritual instincts; and through the distribution of religious books implanting in them the living stream of an inwardly comprehended Christianity." That same historian notes that "the period of unrestricted existence of the Bible Society marks the only time since the outset of the eighteenth century when secular society, applying itself to religious subjects with a lively and intense interest, gave first priority to the moral and spiritual development of the people." The message of "inner Christianity" did not pass away without a trace; it sented as a summons to moral and religious self-reliance. In any case, it acted as a dialectical counterweight to the enlightened secularism of the previous century. At that time a conscious effort had been made to force the clergy into the lower social classes and dissolve it in "the common sort of men." 33 Now the ideal arose of an educated and enlightened clergy occupying a place in higher society. The new regime's program allotted the bearers of religious ideas and inspiration a greater place or role in the entire system of state and national life. Discipline was the hallmark of Peter's reign education that of Catherine's; now creativity became the sign of the times.

Roman Catholic elements also existed in the prevailing mystical syncretism. In an important sense, Joseph de Maistre belongs to the history of Russian mysticism. As a youth he experienced freemasonry, and his outlook owes a good deal to Saint-Martin. During his years in Russia, he continued to believe that in non-Catholic countries freemasonry posed no danger for religion or for the state. However, the Bible Society, whose working operations he could observe firsthand in Russia, he considered quite dangerous. These impressions found a place in his theocratic synthesis. As G. Goyau 34 perceptively noted, when de Maistre wrote On the Pope, he had two countries in mind: France and Russia. De Maistre exercised a considerable influence in Russian aristocratic circles. 35

During the first years of the new century, the influence of the Jesuits could also be strongly felt. One need only recall the names of Abbes Nicole 36 and Rozaven. 37 For a short time, from 1811 to 1820, the Jesuits even managed to achieve the creation of a special educational district for their schools within the empire. Polotsk Academy served as its administrative center. To the south, Odessa became a hotbed of Roman proselytism and its College des Nobles raquo; , was soon reorganized as the lycee Richelieu with Nicole as director. However, by 1815 the Jesuits had been expelled from both capitals, and by 1820 they were dispatched beyond the empire's frontier. Their schools were either closed or reformed. However, such measures did not entirely eliminate Latin influence.

The Alexandrine era consisted of contradictions, ambiguities, and duplicities. Life and thought became divided. An open (if not free) social and religious debate arose for the first time. Such was the beginning of a new, stormy, and significant era.

The Revival of Russian Freemasonry.

A mystical intensity can be detected from the outset of the century. Masonic lodges revived and reopened. Publication of mystical books resumed, providing a renaissance in the Novikov tradition. 38 Men such as Lopukhin, E. Karneev, Koshelev, I. Turgenev and Labzin, 39 who had been formed in those earlier years, came forward to renew their activities.

The work of A. F. Labzin (1766-1825) most characterized the early years of the century. By 1800, while conference secretary for the Academy of Arts, he opened the St. Petersburg lodge "The Dying Sphinx," an exclusive and separate circle of Rosicrucians. For a time he had been an ardent follower of Schwartz, 40 and during Paul's reign he translated the history of the Maltese order from German 41 Labzin now tried to repeat the experience of Moscow in the 1780's, and actually did so in publishing. By 1803 he had revived the printing of translated mystical works, especially those of Jung-Stilling and Eckartshausen. Along with Boehme, Saint-Martin and (in part) Fenelon 42 served as authorities or "models." In 1806 Labzin undertook publication of Messenger of Zion [Sionskii hestnik]. The political climate of those years did not yet favor such publications, and Labzin was compelled to suspend his journal. Labzin indicates the models on which he fashioned his own journal: Pfenniger's Sammlung zu Einem Christlichen Magazin 43 and Ewald's Christliche Monatsschrift. 44

The real swing toward mystical literature occurred only after the Great Fatherland War in connection with the activities of the Bible Society. Only "by Imperial order" in 1817 was Messenger of Zion reopened. By that time there was a sufficient demand for such "mystical books." Judging by the statements and memoirs of contemporaries, many people possessed such books. Characteristically for that period, mysticism became a social movement and for a time enjoyed governmental support. A strong mystical type was created. Contemporary biographies usually contain a mystical period or episode.

Labzin's message was simple and typical: a mixture of quietism and pietism; above all, a message of "awakening" or "conversion." He called for introspection and reflection, concentrating full attention on the moment of "conversion:" The new teaching acknowledged as real the sole "dogma" of "conversion." Renunciation of proud Reason led to agnosticism (sometimes practically aphasia) in theology. All religious experience diffused into waves of captivating and oppressive enthusiasm. "In the Holy Scriptures we find absolutely no guidelines for the understanding of Divine matters." Reason, with its insights, is contrasted with Revelation; not so much a historical or written Revelation as an "inner" one (that is, a certain "enlightenment" or "illumination"). "Holy Scripture is a mute instructor, using signs to inform the living teacher who dwells in the heart." Dogmas, and even the sacraments, are less important than this life of the heart. In fact, one cannot please God with "opinions." "We do not find the Savior providing any explanations of dogmas, only practical axioms teaching us what to do and what to avoid." Thus, all confessional divisions stem from the pride of Reason. The true church is greater than these superficial divisions and consists of all true worshippers in the spirit, encompassing the entire human race. Such a truly ecumenical or "universal" Christianity becomes for Labzin a peculiar supratemporal or suprahistorical religion. Such a religion is one and the same for all peoples and all times. It is found in the book of Nature, in the Scriptures, among the Prophets, in the mysteries and myths, and in the Gospel. A single religion of the heart. Each man possesses a secret chronology of his own era from the day of his rebirth or conversion, from the day when Christ is born or begins to dwell in his heart.

A sharp distinction in steps or degrees characterizes all of this mysticism, as does the unrestrained and impetuous aspiration to seek or acquire "higher" degrees or initiations. Only the "lowest orders of men, those barely catechumens," could be satisfied with the pious rituals in the historical churches. Dream and reason strangely intertwine in a mysticism which contains a romantic simplification of all questions and an excessive transparency and lucidity. "His reason presented everything clearly and simply, basing everything on the laws of necessity and on the law which unites the visible and the invisible, the earthly and the heavenly. This, I thought, is a science of religion; a great and important discovery for me." 45

Opinions divide on Labzin. His polemical and resolute attacks on Voltarianism and all forms of freethinking attracted and reconciled many to him. Even Evgenii Bolkhovitinov 46 remarked that "he detected many, if not from the depraved life, at least from those depraved ideas which combat religion." Filaret admitted that Labzin had pure intentions. "He was a good man, with certain peculiarities in his religious views." Others render a much harsher and utterly implacable judgment. Innokentii Smirnov 47 regarded Labzin's translations as completely harmful and dangerous. Many were of a similar mind. Fotii saw in Labzin one of the chief instigators of heresy. In fact, Labzin's propaganda was extremely immodest, willful, and annoying. Intolerant, he had a pathos for conversion. Moreover, he achieved success. Apparently even clergymen (the archimandrites Feofil and Iov 48 have been named) joined his lodge. Witberg, too, became a member. Curiously enough, Kheraskov composed his famous hymn "How Glorious" 49 precisely for Labzin's lodge "The Dying Sphinx." The hymn is a typical example of the prevailing mystical and pietist poetry.

Mikhail Speranskii (1772-1834) is another representative of the mystical mood. Like Labzin, Speranskii was in essence a man of the preceding century. The optimist and rationalist of the Age of Enlightenment is strikingly evident in him. Speranskii surprised and even frightened his contemporaries by his extremely abstract manner. Forceful and bold in the realm of abstract constructions, schemes, and forms, he quickly tired and became lost in life, occasionally even failing to observe moral decorum. Not only did Speranskii never liberate himself from this innate rationalism, even through many years of reading mystical and ascetical books, but his thought grew still more arid, if more developed, in this ordeal of meditations. He achieved insensitivity, not impartiality. Speranskii derived his great strength as well as his weakness from this rationalism. He became an inimitable codifier and systemizer, and he could be a fearless reformer. But his thoughts lack vitality: they were frequently brilliant but even then they retained an icy chill. There is always something intolerably rhetorical in all his projects and speeches. His clarity and lucidity possessed an offensive quality, which explains why no one loved him and why he could hardly love anyone else. A highly directed and deliberate man, he had an excessive passion for symmetry and too great a faith in the omnipotence of statutes and forms. (Both Filaret and N.I. Turgenev 50 concur in this evaluation). Despite the daring logic of his many proposals, Speranskii had no original ideas. He possessed a clear but superficial mind. His outlook lacked timbre and fibre; he had no living muscle. He even accepted suffering in a dream-like manner. Speranskii simply was not a man of thought. It is all the more characteristic that a man of that style and type could be attracted and drawn into a maelstrom of mysticism. Speranskii came from the clergy. He went through the usual curriculum of an ecclesiastical school, became a teacher and then a prefect in that same Aleksandr Nevskii Seminarys where he had studied. However, he developed an interest in theology at a later date. About 1804 he became acquainted with I. V. Lopukhin and began reading mystical books under Ms guidance. His reading during those years was largely comprised of "theosophical" books, including Boehme, Saint-Martin and Swedenborg. 52 Only later, when in exile in Perm and Velikopol'e, did he shift his interest to "mystical theology," that is, partly to quietism and partly to the church fathers. He even translated The Imitation of Christ. At the same time he studied Hebrew in order that he might read the Bible in that language. Still later, in Penza, he began learning German.

Speranskii makes the typical distinction or dichotomy of those years between "outer" and "inner." He possessed more than a mere indifference to history and sharply and maliciously described "historical" and "external" Christianity as "that disfigured Christianity adorned with all the colors of a sensual world." Once Speranskii wrote to his former schoolmate P. A. Slovtsov, that "to search the Holy Scriptures for our fruitless and empty historical truths and for a useless system provided by the logic of our five senses is to act the child and amuse ourselves with pointless scholarship and literature." Speranskii viewed the Bible as a book of parables and mysterious symbols; he considered it more a mythical or "theoretical" book than an historical one. Such an approach to the Bible generally characterized the prevailing mysticism and pietism. Speranskii's visionary paternalism, his juggling of abstract schemes, and even his lack of images are surprising. Curiously, he maintained a reserved attitude toward Jung-Stilling and all apocalyptical literature. There was too much that was apocalyptical in life and history to suit him.

Speranskii was a Mason, adhering to Fessler's "scientific" system rather than to Rosicrucianism. De Maistre, on insufficient grounds, considered Speranskii "an admirer of Kant." Fessler's invitation to Russia is a symptomatic episode. A prominently active Mason who had reformed German freemasonry on more rationalistic and critical lines, he was summoned by Speranskii to occupy a chair in the newly reformed St. Petersburg Theological Academy. Subsequently Speranskii emphasized that Fessler's invitation came "by special Imperial instruction." He was offered a chair of Hebrew, which Fessler had previously held in Lvov. 53 Upon Fessler's arrival, Speranskii discovered he possessed an outstanding knowledge of philosophy and entrusted him not only with the chair of Hebrew, but with that of philosophy (Speranskii considered himself the "patron" of that chair). Baron Korf, Speranskii's early and official biographer, guessed that there may have been ulterior motives for Fessler's appointment. 54 Since that time, the interesting comments by Gauenshil'd, who served for a time under Speranskii in the Commission on Laws, have become available. 55 Gauenshil'd tells of a Masonic lodge organized by Fessler in St. Petersburg in which Speranskii became a member. Meetings were held in Baron Rosenkampf's home. 56 "A proposal was made to found a central Masonic lodge with filial branches throughout the Russian empire, in which the ablest spiritual people of every station would be obliged to join. These spiritual brethren would be required to write articles on various humanitarian questions, deliver sermons, and so on. Their writings would then be submitted to the central lodge." Gauenshil'd recalls that at their first meeting Speranskii spoke of "reforming the Russian clergy." One may infer that Fessler had been brought to St. Petersburg and appointed to the Nevskii Academy for that purpose.

Fessler was a freethinker, not a mystic. He subscribed to the ideas of Lessing and Fichte, 57 and he suggested that the goal of a true Mason could be found in the creation of civic consciousness and in reeducating the citizenry for the coming age of Astrea. Moscow Rosicrucians greeted the news of Fessler's appointment with indignation and fear, for "he is a stealthy enemy who rejects the divinity of Jesus Christ and acknowledges him merely as a great man" 58 Fessler also met with hostility in St. Petersburg. However, prominent people joined his lodge, including S. S. Uvarov, 59 A. I. Turgenev, 60 a group of Carpatho- Russians from the Commission on Laws (Lodi, Balugianskii, and Orlai), 61 the court physician Stoffregen, the famous doctor E. E. Ellisen and the philanthropist Pomian Pezarovius, founder of the Russian Invalid and Alexander's Committee for the Wounded. 62

Fessler did not teach long at the academy. His Socinian cast of mind soon became apparent. The syllabi for his proposed course were found to be "obscure." Fessler was quickly transferred to the position of "corresponding member" of the Commission on Laws. Subsequently Speranskii, who had defended Fessler and his syllabi, and who until then had been the most active member of the Commission on Ecclesiastical Schools, stopped attending its meetings altogether and even asked permission to resign. These events occurred in 1810. The following year, Fessler was required to visit the Herrnhutters in the southern Volga region. In 1818 he returned once more to St. Petersburg in the capacity of Lutheran General Superintendent. By that time he was enjoying the favor of Prince Golitsyn. The whole episode well characterizes those troubled years. The complete confusion and ambiguity of religious views is so eloquently expressed.

Reform of the Ecclesiastical Schools, 1805-1814.

Reform of the ecclesiastical schools began during the very first years of Alexander's reign. This reform formed a part of a general reconstruction of the entire educational system and the creation in 1802 of a new department or ministry of "public enlightenment." On 5 November 1804 a new statute for universities and other public schools was published and implemented. In 1805 Evgenii Bolkhovitinov (1767-1837), then vicar of Staraia Russa, drew up the first "sketch" for a new statute for the ecclesiastical schools. Reports which had been elicited about desired improvements were submitted to him, and he based his proposal on them. Only Metropolitan Platon of Moscow 63 opposed the idea of reform. However, none of the bishops consulted proposed more than specific corrections or changes within the framework of the existing order. Avgustin 'Vinogradskii, bishop of Dmitrov and vicar to the metropolitan of Moscow, provides the sole exception. He proposed that education be divided into distinct levels and that the academy be organized as a school exclusively for the "higher sciences" and not just theology. He also recommended that the Moscow Academy be transferred to the Holy Trinity Monastery.

Even Evgenii Bolkhovitinov made only moderate suggestions, proposing to refurbish the curriculum and reduce the sway of Latin in instruction by reserving it exclusively for theology and philosophy. "But these (subjects] should be taught from translations as we have always done." The administration of the Aleksandr Nevskii Academy voiced the same opinion. Evgenii's sketch embodies only a single interesting detail, although a somewhat old-fashioned one. He proposed that a special scholarly (or more accurately, scholarly-administrative) department or "learned society" be formed in each academy's district. These societies would have sufficiently diverse responsibilities and areas of competence such as "encouragement of theological scholarship," publication and censorship of books, supervision of subordinate ecclesiastical schools, and responsibility for textbooks. Evgenii's idea became a part of the subsequent statute. 64

Evgenii was and remained a man of the eighteenth century. His personal tastes gave him a secular outlook, and he did not conceal the fact that he took monastic vows in order to advance his career, describing (in correspondence with a friend, to be sure) his tonsure with almost profane levity: "Like spiders, the monks spun a black habit, is mantle, and cowl around me." Evgenii studied for a time in Moscow, where he had some connection with the Friendly Society of Learning. In any event, he preferred Shaden's 65 lectures to academy lessons. Theology had little interest for him; his subject was history, although he never became more than a compiler. According to Innokentii Borisov, 66 he had "a chronicler's mind." Pogodin 67 dubbed him "history's statistician." "Evgenii's great breadth of erudition is as astonishing as its capacity to stupefy the power of thought," said Filaret of Chernigov. 68 Evgenii lacked strong analytical abilities; his mind ventured no further than curiosity. As an antiquarian and bibliographer, he rendered many incontestable services, but not in the history of theology. It is not surprising that Evgenii later joined the ranks of those who favored the "return to the time of scholasticism. He disliked theology, and as metropolitan of Kiev, he did not encourage such interests by the students of the Kiev Academy. He considered it more worthwhile to divert the best talents into archival and bibliographical work. At one time he became attracted to modern literature and read Shaftesbury, Diderot, D'Alembert, and Rousseau. 69 He loved Racine and Voltaire's tragedies and enjoyed sentimental novels and tales. He even translated Pope. 70 Yet Evgenii always maintained a guarded hostility toward philosophy. For this reason, then, his "sketches" could not be sufficiently flexible or inventive. Evgenii took no part in the work on school reform.

On 29 November 1807, an imperial directive created a Committee for the Improvement of Ecclesiastical Schools. Metropolitan Amvrosii Podobedov, Feofilakt Rusanov (then bishop of Kaluga), Prince A. N. Golitsyn, Speranskii, and two archpriests, the tsar's confessor and the chief military chaplain, joined the committee. Speranskii played the dominant and decisive role, and in six months the committee had finished its work and received imperial confirmation of its plan entitled An outline of regulations for the creation of ecclesiastical schools. 71 On 26 June 1808, the committee was dissolved and a permanent Commission on Ecclesiastical Schools established with the same membership and as the supreme (alinost autonomous) and chief organ for the administration of the ecclesiastical schools. Speranskii's persistence can be felt in the committee's forced pace, while his influence is readily evident in the symmetry and precise geometry through- out the plan for the entire school network.

A system of levels was introduced and those levels were used as divisions in the individual educational institutions, a complete contrast to the old order. There were to be four such levels beginning at the bottom with parish schools, followed by district schools, diocesan seminaries, and then academies. Territorial considerations constituted one of the bases for these divisions. The system of consecutive levels formed a unity based on subordinate relationships. The entire school network was divided into districts, with an academy at the head or center of each, thereby freeing the local educational institution from the authority of the local bishop. The new plan closely approximated the general system of "public enlightenment" outlined in the statute of 1803-1804. Even more certain is the fact that the plan was modeled after Napoleon's reorganization of the Universite de France, which greatly suited Speranskii's taste. 72

The intention had been, above all, to establish an autonomously existing second and parallel system of schools. The chief argument was adduced from the specific aim of the ecclesiastical schools, for the "sort of enlightenment" should correspond to a school's particular goal. Church schools should prepare servants for the church, not for the state. In practice, the very fact of this long existent and highly developed church school network carried no less weight in these considerations, since the public school system still awaited reinstitution. One unexpected qualification had already been made in the original Outline: the seminaries were to prepare students not only for the priesthood, but, if possible, also for the medical-surgical academies.

The aim of clerical education is undoubtedly a sound and fundamental study of Religion. An understanding of a Religion which bases its dogma on Holy Scriptures and ancient traditions requires a knowledge of those same ancient sources as well as the disciplines directly related to them. Such disciplines include the study of classical languages, especially Greek and Latin; basic knowledge of Church Slavic and Slavono-Russian; an understanding of ancient history, particularly that of the Bible and the Church; and finally, the study of theology in all its branches. Hence, it is apparent that "erudition" proper is the chief aim of this religious education. That is the primary foundation on which the church schools must be built.

The higher levels of the old school were transformed into a separate middle school with the name of the seminary. The seminary curriculum comprised three two-year courses or "divisions": a lower division for literature, an intermediate one of philosophy, and an upper one for theology. History and mathematics supplemented the curriculum. A completely new academy was added to the entire older system. Under the new plan the academy became a complex institution containing, first, a higher school of education; second, a scholarly corporation or collegium with the task of organizing a special "conference" with participation by admirers and patrons of education from outside the academy; and third, an administrative center for the entire school district. 73 The higher school of education for the first time became a separate and autonomous educational unit.

With this division, the theological academies, no longer constrained in their development by their original obligation to provide elementary instruction in grammar and history, will engage in the broadest study of philosophy and theology as befits them, and devote themselves to an appropriately advanced theological education. An increase in the number of teachers accompanied the preparation of the new statute: six professors and twelve instructors, or baccalaureates, for each academy.

The committee had only prepared a plan for reform and established the basic principles and tasks. The newly formed commission had to devise a statute. Speranskii's actual participation in the work of the commission did not last long, and during that time he managed to formulate only one portion of the statute governing the academies, namely their administration and the organization of instruction. He very soon withdrew from the commission, and the task of completing and elaborating the academy statute fell upon an intelligent and influential man, Feofilakt Rusanov, 74 "who is not very dedicated to the office [of bishop]," as Platon described him. Feofilakt brought to the commission his own personal experience as well as a rather lax and even secular spirit. He was somewhat reminiscent of Evgenii, except that rhetoric and esthetics rather than history attracted him.

The academy statute was provisionally accepted and, in 1809, introduced experimentally at the St. Petersburg Academy. Only one academy was to be opened at a time. Speranskii had once remarked that "no matter how carefullv all relevant aspects of this matter are assembled and considered, experience alone can give them the seal of certainty." On the basis of the experience derived from the first graduating class at the St. Petersburg Academy (1809-1814) and the observations of its rector, Filaret, 75 the provisional statute received one more revision. Confirmed and published in 1814, it was introduced in a second academy, the Moscow Academy, which opened that same year. 76 The Kiev Academy opened only in 1819, while the opening of the Kazan' Academy was delayed until 1842. The short supply of teachers and professors provides the chief reason for this gradual creation of academic centers. Platon's prediction that enough people were not to be had came true. Rarely could those who taught in the pre-reform schools be used in the new academies, for they had to teach what they themselves had never studied, and suitable teachers were generally not to be found in Kiev and Kazan'.

Despite its defects and gaps, the new academy statute constituted an undoubted success. The entire system was now constructed on a genuine educational foundation, thereby displacing the eighteenth century ideology of state service. Education no longer aimed to communicate a specific amount of information or knowledge to the students and compel them to memorize or assimilate it.

A good method of teaching consists of revealing to the students their individual abilities and intellectual capacities. Therefore, extended explanations in which the professors strive more to exhibit their learning than to awaken the minds of their audience contradict this good method. Similarly, dictation of lessons during classtime also contradicts it.

Therefore, the new statute placed special emphasis on composition and on written exercises by the students generally at all levels of education. Moreover, a wide reading of sources beyond the textbooks was encouraged. In view of the lack of books and texts, this postulate often had to be abandoned, a fact which points out the worst and most general flaw in the new statute: its architects failed to take sufficient notice of the means available for realizing their ideals.

Very important was the fact that the dominance of Latin had been condemned in principle. "Although the introduction of Latin in the schools in certain respects had proved to be of great worth, its exclusive use was the reason why study of Russian and Greek, so necessary for our Church, little by little declined." Nevertheless, Latin remained the language of instruction and only a few dared to shift to Russian. They did so much later. Greek continued to be one subject among many. The "textbooks" by necessity remained in use for a long time, and not all newly compiled texts represented improvement. All the while, the new statute unhesitatingly required teachers and texts to "always keep abreast of the latest discoveries and achievements in each field of learning."

Other difficulties compounded these problems. Upon its opening under the new statute, the St. Petersburg Academy, in its first four years (1809-1814), provided living testimony about the abstract program designed by the reformers. "Only the special mercy of Providence enabled the first class of the academy to complete its work successfully," Filaret later remarked. He had been rector since 1812. He had the Fessler affair primarily in mind. Fessler (1756-1839) taught at the academy long enough to establish contacts and produce an impression, all the more so because he was an inspiring and able orator, who spoke "with a fiery tongue and with captivating inspiration," and because he introduced students to the mysteries of contemporary German philosophy and preached of "the blessed clairvoyance of that truth gained through the inner eye of the mind." In his later memoirs, Fessler enumerates G.P. Pavskii 77 (through his study of Hebrew) and Irodion Vetrinskii 78 among the circle of his student followers at the academy. "Fessler enthralled the students with his learning," recalls Filaret, "but it must be accounted an act of Providence that because of certain disputes and complications he was soon dismissed from the academy, for, as later investigation showed, he was a man of dangerous views."

Mystical currents or epidemics proved no less dangerous. A Latin captivity could be replaced by a German or even an English one, and now the sway of German philosophy and pietism threatened to displace scholasticism. At that time, and for a long time to come, German learning cast its shadow over Russian theology, to the detriment of many. Nonetheless, the reform of the ecclesiastical schools during those troubled years produced a genuine vitality in theology. A creative turmoil and awakening began. Any sickness was that of growth and life, not of death or degeneration, although the disease was real and of the most dangerous sort. Yet the steep, narrow path of Orthodox theology gradually could be discerned amidst the extreme mystical and philosophical enthusiasms on the one hand and the fears and suspicions of them on the other. Those years witnessed quarrels, clashes, and struggles — a struggle for theology — against those who disliked and feared it, against those who distrusted thought and creativity. Debate over the Russian Bible provides the opening act in that dramatic struggle.

The Russian Bible Society.

The second decade of the nineteenth century is the decade of the Bible Society. The Russian Bible Society served as a largely autonomous branch of the British and Foreign Bible Society, founded only in 1804. Agents of the British Society inspired and actively assisted the opening of the Russian branch, and the British design and ideology achieved complete acceptance. 79

The Russian Bible Society's statute received confirmation on 6 December 1812. Its first general meeting took place on 11 January 1813, with Prince Golitsyn, then Over Procurator of the Synod and later minister for the combined ministry, elected as president. In practice, the Russian Bible Society developed into a second, and less official, facet of the department of religious affairs and became the double of the combined ministry. Opened initially as the St. Petersburg Bible Society, its name was changed to the Russian Bible Society in September, 1814. At first the Society limited its work to the distribution of Bibles among foreigners and the non-Orthodox, "leaving inviolable the publication of the Holy Scriptures in Slavic for those who confess the Greco-Russian faith; [such publication] belongs particularly and exclusively to the department of the Holy Synod." But by 1814, the Society had taken upon itself the publication and distribution of the Slavic Bible, especially the New Testament. Bishops and other clergy, both Orthodox and non-Orthodox, were included in the Bible Society as vice presidents and directors simultaneously with the formation of the Society's advisory board, which had heretofore included only laymen. Even the Roman Catholic Metropolitan Stanislaw Siestrzencewicz-Bohusz joined. 80 At the beginning of 1816, the Society decided to publish a Russian Bible.

All Bible societies (in Russia as much as in Britain) saw as their task the "placing into wider use" of the Word of God, even in older or unfamiliar editions, so that each person might experience its redemptive power and thereby acquire an immediate knowledge of God "as Holy Scripture reveals Him." Such an aim combined with the strict rule that the sacred books be published "without notes or comments" in order to avoid any human, and therefore partial, interpretation, which might obscure the universal, manifoldly profound, inexhaustible, and infinite Word of God. Underlying such beliefs is the theory of "mute" signs and the "living Teacher, who abides in the heart." The Society of Friends, that is, the Quakers, constituted the most decisive influence in the formation of the Bible Society's ideology. During the early years, Russian and English proponents of Biblical work maintained intimate and active cooperation. The expeditions by British missionaries into the non-Christian regions of the empire are particularly noteworthy. An English mission traveled to the trans-Baikal region in order to convert the Buriats, while a Scottish missionary colony sent by the Edinburg Missionary Society settled in Karras on the Caucasian frontier.

The Society's activities expanded rapidly and met with considerable success, for a network of branch societies soon extended throughout the empire. Within a decade, the Bible had been published (or acquired) in forty-three languages and dialects, totaling 704, 831 copies. This achievement largely depended on state support and often on state initiative. In contrast to its British counterpart, the Russian Bible Society was not the work of society, nor did it enjoy either society's sympathy or support. Progress came through government support and directives: the "Good News" was frequently transmitted by decree. A zeal for the Word of God and a desire to enlighten those sitting in the shadow of death became manifest everywhere.

Governors began making speeches which perfectly resembled sermons; police commissioners, elected heads of municipalities, and heads of district police ably disseminated Holy Scriptures and reported on their efforts to the state administration in pious letters liberally punctuated with Biblical citations. The entire affair contained a good amount of noisy bureaucratic unctuousness and presented a deceptive bureaucratic facade (a new version of the "Potemkin village").81 For all practical purposes, the Bible Society became a special government "department" and perfected its own form of sticky, unpleasant bureaucratic-Biblical hypocrisy. However, these darker sides should not be exaggerated, for the constructive results of this Biblical work are no less evident and worthy.

A host of other "philanthropical" enterprises quickly became associated with the Bible Society. Although partially modelled on the English pattern, these charitable works were necessary and vital. The publishing activities of Princess S. S. Meshcherskaia 82 require special mention. She adapted or translated brochures and pamphlets for popular reading printed by the Religious Tract Society, founded in 1799.83 One can question how understandable or appropriate such brochures "composed by a certain devout lady" were for the "simple people" (although some original material did get published, including excerpts from St. Tikhon's writings and from the sermons of Metropolitan Mikhail Desnitskii). 84 But the cardinal importance of this enterprise can hardly be disputed. Much the same can be said for the schools established on the "Lancaster system." 85 Still more important was the creation of the Imperial Philanthropical Society and work among prisoners, such as that done by John Venning, a member of the London Prison Society, who had founded a similar society in St. Petersburg in 1819. 86

These phenomena all derived from a single impulse coming from England. This wave of Anglo-Saxon Nonconformity mingled with that of German pietism and older mystical freemasonry. Among the former Masonic leaders, Koshelev, Karneev, Labzin, and Lenivtsev now assiduously applied themselves to the work of the Bible Society. This group was represented in the Society's Moscow branch by Bantysh-Kamenskii, 87 that "lay monk and secular bishop" in Vigel's clever definition. His description perhaps even more fully applies to Prince Golitsyn, since Golitsyn considered himself to be a "secular bishop" and hence the more distinguished by that fact. In any case, Labzin's publishing activities harmonized with the work of the Bible Society and frequently his publications were distributed through the usual Bible Society channels, with the result that his books might be accepted readily and naturally as those of the Society itself. The fact that the head of the Postal Department also served as president of the Bible Society and as minister of the combined ministry, and that only a rare bureaucrat in the Postal Department did not belong to (or had not been at least enrolled in) a lodge or branch of the Bible Society, greatly aided the distribution of these books.

The publication of mystical books by prominent members of the Bible Society cast a fatal shadow on the Society's work on the Bible. There were sufficient grounds to regard the Bible Society as something more or other than what it claimed to be. Very many people with extreme views or with scarcely concealed hopes and intentions belonged to the Society, often in leading and responsible positions or roles. By statute and design the Bible Society was to embrace all confessions, so that all "confessions" might be represented in the Society as equally possessed by the sanctity of God's Word. In fact, the Bible Society became something like a new confession or sect (at least psychologically) with the peculiarly esoteric and exalted cast of mind of a "circle." Sturdza 88 somewhat justifiably called the Bible Society "exotic" and labeled it "the Anglo-Russian sect." Many of the prominent members of the Bible Society, notably its secretary V. M. Popov, 89 participated in Madame Tatarinova's circle or "spiritual alliance." 90 Very often religious toleration and the principle of equality of all confessions became metamorphosed as patronage for sectarians, especially for the Dukhobors and Molokans, but even for the Skoptsy. 91 Mystical books, particularly Jung-Stilling and Eckartshausen, found ready acceptance in this milieu. 92 In any case, "formal church life" was very often denounced with the expectation that such "worn out altar cloths" might be cut away, thereby revealing a true and inner Christianity. One can read Jung-Stilling on the "absurd and superstitious blindness of those who profess the Eastern Greek-Catholic confession, which must be driven out with the light of the Divine book."

One feature of this administrative intrusion into Biblical under takings could not fail to become irritating: government policies did not include open discussion about work on the Bible. Thus, the government had itself to blame if many people formed the impression that the government was preparing a supraconfessional revolution protected by administrative censorship and police sanctions, and that consent to such a revolution would be extorted and made compulsory. The stormy hostility with which the authorities greeted the rare attempts to voice criticism could only deepen suspicions. A typical affair is that involving Innokentii Smirnov (1784-1819), then archimandrite and rector of the St. Petersburg Seminary. Innokentii, who joined the Bible Society and became a director in 1815, served on the translation committee. (Even after his exile to Penza, Innokentii recommended to the Society that the Bible be translated into Moldavian).

A sincere and strong friendship bound him to the Princess Meshcherskaia. A man of warm piety and rigorous spirituality, he loved pilgrims and "fools for Christ's sake" [iurodivye] . The spirit of pretentious equality of all confessions which so greatly animated Labzin and Golitsyn served only to confuse Innokentii. Toward the end of 1818, Innokentii, in his capacity as ecclesiastical censor, approved for publication a book by Evstafii Stanevich, A Conversation on the Immortality of the Soul at the Grave of an Infant [Razgovor o bezsmertii dush nad grobom mladentsa] . A Greek by birth, Stanevich had been educated in Russia and become fully Russified. He also fanatically adhered to Shishkov 93 and belonged to Beseda [Gathering]. 94 At the same time, he admired Edward Young 95 and other English writers. As Sturdza noted, his book was an "ineffectual work, but harmless." The book's stinging criticism consisted in its frank condemnation of the ideas expressed in such works as Messenger of Zion and in the book's hints about the combined ministry's ulterior aims. Filaret later recalled that Stanevich's book "contained many remarks greatly offensive to the governing authorities and to the spirit of the times in general." Hence, Filaret cautioned Innokentii against permitting the book's publication. Innokentii ignored him and accepted Filaret's warning as a challenge.

Through an imperial directive hastily obtained by Golitsyn, Stanevich's book was banned and removed from circulation; within twenty-four hours the author was exiled from the capital. Curiously, not only did a second imperial directive free Stanevich from arrest in 1825, but that fact was mentioned in the second edition of his book. Despite Metropolitan Mikhail's 96 intercession, Innokentii was given an honorable exile from St. Petersburg at the first favorable moment. This was done without the knowledge of the Synod through Golitsyn's personal recommendation that Innokentii be appointed to the vacant diocese in Orenburg. Only with great difficulty could this appointment be redesignated to Penza. A few months later, Innokentii died from nervous strain and bitter anxiety. The points Golitsyn enumerates in his condemnation of Stanevich's book are most instructive. "To the discussion of the immortality of the soul is appended a defense of the Eastern Church, before anyone has attacked it, and if such an attack should occur, it is not for a private individual to take that defense upon himself. Lacking a correct understanding, the author does not sense that minds may become uneasy that the Church is in danger." Of course, Stanevich composed his book precisely in order to awaken such a fear. "He asks who is more correct," St. John Chrysostom or St. Augustine, and gives preference to Chrysostom only because he belongs to the Eastern Church, although hierarchs, frequently cite Augustine in their sermons and writings." Even more characteristic is the following: The author denigrates those books which the civil censors has approved; for example, the works of Dutoit, 97 specifically his Philosophie Chretienne, and he even expresses' the fear that the Philosophie divine might be published, when in fact it has been printed in Russian and at Your Majesty's expense.

And finally, "under the pretense of defending the outer church, he attacks the inner one, that is, he wishes to separate body and soul." Hence the conclusion that, "In a word, this book fully contradicts the principles which guide our Christian government in its civil and ecclesiastical parts." While affirming Golitsyn's petition, the Emperor expressed the hope "that henceforth the Commission on Ecclesiastical Schools will take measures to ensure that writings which seek to destroy the spirit of the inner teaching of Christianity will not by any means be passed by its censors."

It is important to note that uneasiness seized even people who wholly sympathized with the Bible Society's work and who shared in that work. Mikhail Desnitskii, then metropolitan of Novgorod, and a man of warm piety, mystical inclination, and a graduate of Novikov' s "seminary," is one such example. As a parish priest in Moscow, he gained prominence as a preacher for the common people, giving his greatest attention to questions of the inner life and calling upon men to leave the dispersion in Egypt for the "desert of inner solitude." He spoke with simplicity and warmth; he loved to preach. Golitsyn's dictatorial interference with church administration in the Synod disturbed him most deeply. Of course, he completely disapproved such hysterical sectarian exaltations as those to be found in the sermons of Lindel and Gossner, 98 the writings of the pietists, or even the "knavish sacraments at the Mikhailovskii palace," as Vigel' wittily termed those exultant performances of the Tatarinova circle which so fascinated Golitsyn. Metropolitan Mikhail died in 1820, weary and exhausted from his struggle with the "blind minister." Shortly before his death, Mikhail wrote a candid letter to the Emperor, warning him that the church was in danger and the subject of persecution. The Emperor received the letter at Laibach, when the metropolitan was no longer alive. Rumor spread that Golitsyn was the "murderer of the metropolitan." That such a man as Mikhail opposed Golitsyn and his regime is quite symptomatic. Filaret, formerly Mikhail's vicar, wrote that "the sense of desolation and abandonment he has left is great," and prayed "that the Lord might grant us a man with the spirit and strength of Elijah, for repentance and judgment must be preached with the love and patience of Christ; for there must be mercy and solace without hope for personal comfort."

Such anxieties about the violent and dictatorial nature of these "false" mystics served as a prelude to the actual "uprising" against the Bible Society and particularly against the Russian Bible. "But what more can be achieved? Have not the Bible societies already to a certain extent displaced the visible church? . . . Is it difficult to understand that the mixture of all Christian confessions in their meetings is but a model for that universal religion which they are devising?" Many people regarded this "united Bible stratum" as an anti-Church. The Bible Society greatly resembles "secret societies," and "it is just the same among Methodists and Illuminati 99 as it is in the freemason lodges." Archimandrite Fotii expressed this idea even more emphatically: "Enemies prepared to establish a peculiar Bible religion and make an amalgam of faiths, thereby reducing the Orthodox faith of Christ." He thought the "new" faith to be an outright fraud. In our time, many books express, and many societies and private individuals herald, some new form of religion, supposedly preordained for the last days. This new religion is preached in various forms: as a new light, a new doctrine, a coming of Christ in the Spirit, a reunification of the churches, a renewal in the form of the Thousand Year Reign of Christ; or else it is propagated as a new truth which is an apostasy from the Divine, Apostolic, Patristic and Orthodox faith. This new religion is the belief in the approach of the Antichrist, who foments revolutions, thirsts for bloodshed, and is filled with the spirit of Satan. The false prophets and apostles of this new religion are Jung-Stilling, Eckartshausen, Guyon, Boehme, Labzin, Gossner, Fessler, the Methodists, and the Herrhutters. All such frightened conjectures did not lack foundations. There were more than ample grounds for anxiety. In any case, the spiritual atmosphere was unhealthy. As it turned out, this partially justified "uprising" degenerated into a sordid court intrigue and the anxiety resulted in a fit of hysterics. All sense of proportion and judicious perspective was lost. In the ensuing polemic and struggle each side possessed only half of the truth and both sides shared the blame.

 

Translation of the Russian Bible.

Formal discussion about a Russian translation of the Bible first began in 1816. As president of the Russian Bible Society, Golitsyn received a verbal directive from the Emperor "to propose to the Holy Synod His Majesty's sincere and precise wish that Russians be provided with the means to read God's word in their native language, which for them is more comprehensible than the Church Slavic now used for the publication of Holy Scripture." At the same time, this new translation would be published parallel with the Slavic text, as had been done earlier with the Epistle to the Romans, a translation made with the permision of the Synod. 100 "Of course it is understood that the use of the Slavic text must remain inviolate in Church services." The Russian translation would be only for personal use and home reading. Among other justifications for the contemporary Russian translation, Golitsyn referred to the letter of the Greek Patriarch Cyril VI, 101 which, similar circumstances, allowed the people to read the New Testament contemporary rather than ancient Greek. Cyril's letter had been printed in the minutes of the Russian Bible Society in 1814.

The Synod did not supervise or accept responsibility for the translation of the Bible. Perhaps higher authority suggested such course of action. Instead, the Commission on Ecclesiastical Schools was placed in charge and was also required to find reliable translators in the St. Petersburg Academy. The Russian Bible Society would publish the completed translation. Such a translation would enjoy the Emperor's protection. He had originated the idea, or at least it was attributed to him.

Not only does he approve the utmost haste in this work of salvation, but he inspires the work of the Society with the ardor of his own heart. He himself set aside the printing in an incomprehensible language which to date has barred many Russians from the Gospel of Jesus, and he opens this book for the very youngest among the people, for whom it has been closed, not through the Gospel's intent, but solely through the darkness of time.

Actually this "incomprehensible language" did not so much make the Bible less accessible for the people as for the upper class, especially the Emperor, who customarily read De Sacy's popular French translation of the New Testament. 102 He continued to do so even after the publication of a Russian version.

The Commission on Ecclesiastical Schools entrusted supervision of the translation to Archimandrite Filaret, 103 the rector of the St. Petersburg Academy. Filaret also had the authority to select translators at his own discretion. It was assumed that the translation would be done at the Academy. Filaret translated the Gospel of John; G. P. Pavskii 104 translated Matthew; while Archimandrite Polikarp (Gaitannikov), 105 rector of the St. Petersburg Seminary and soon afterward rector at the Moscow Academy, worked on Mark; and Archimandrite Moisei (Antipov-Platonov), 106 a former instructor at the St. Petersburg Academy but at that time rector of the seminary in Kiev (later rector of the Kiev Academy and then Exarch of Georgia) translated Luke. A special committee in the Bible Society examined and verified the work of the individual translators. The committee included Mikhail Desnitskii, later metropolitan of St. Petersburg, Seraphim Glagolevskii, also a future St. Petersburg metropolitan, 107 Filaret, Labzin, and V. M. Popov, director of a department in the "Dual Ministry" and secretary of the Bible Society. Popov, a member of Madame Tatarinova's circle the translator of Lindel and Gossner, and a man of extreme mystical views, ended his life as a "humble fanatic" (Vigel') in the Zilantov Monastery of Kazan'. Characteristically, the supervisory committee consisted of an unexpected medley of members.

Filaret established the guidelines for the translation, as the style of those guidelines readily attests. The translation was to be made from the Greek, which, as the original language, was given preference to Slavic, on the condition that Slavic words be retained or used in the translation "if they, rather than Russian, more closely approximate the Greek without producing obscurity or awkwardness in the text," or if the corresponding Russian words "do not conform to a pure literary language." Accuracy, then clarity, and finally literary purity constituted the priorities. Several stylistic directives are quite characteristic "The Holy Scripture derives its majesty from the power, not the glitter, of its words; consequently one should not adhere excessively to Slavic words and phrases only for the sake of their supposed impressiveness." Another remark is still more important: "The spirit of a passage must be painstakingly observed, so that conversation will be rendered in a colloquial style, narration in a narrative style, and so forth." These propositions appeared as foul heresy to the literary "archaists" and proved to be of decisive moment in that turbulent "uprising" or intrigue of the 1820's against the Russian Bible.

By 1819, the Russian translation of the Gospels had been completed and published. In 1820, the entire New Testament appeared. A Russian translation of the Old Testament began immediately, with the Psalter translated first and, in January, 1822, published separately (in Russian only without the Slavic text). Work on the Pentateuch began at the same time. 108 More translators were enlisted from they newly opened academies in Moscow and Kiev, as well as from several seminaries.

The thorny and complex question of the relationship between the Hebrew and the Greek texts immediately arose. How worthy and meritorious is the Septuagint? How significant are the Massoretic texts? These questions were intensified because every departure from the Septuagint in effect also meant a divergence from the Slavic Bible, which remained in liturgical use. Therefore, some imposing justifications or disclaimers were needed. At the outset, the question received a simple solution: the Hebrew (Massoretic) text would serve as the basic or "original" text. A special preface was written in order to pacify those unacquainted with ancient languages about the discrepancies with the Slavic Bible. Filaret wrote the preface and Metropolitan Mikhail, Metropolitan Seraphim, (then metropolitan of Moscow) and Filaret, now archbishop of Iaroslavl', signed it. Final correction of the translation was entrusted to Father Gerasim Pavskii. The printing had been completed in 1825, but due to changed circumstances, not only did the work fail to see the light of day, but it was confiscated and hastily burned. Biblical work was halted and the Bible Society was closed and banned. The disastrous outcome of the Biblical work requires explanation. A Russian translation of the Bible commanded widespread attention and sympathy; numerous paeans of praise, and many ardent, enflamed phrases were openly proclaimed or publicly composed. Not everyone meant what they said, and a great deal of pure sycophancy existed. Yet many spoke from the heart and with full conviction. Publication of the Russian Bible answered an undoubted need and alleviated the "hunger to hear the Word of God," as Filaret put it. One may recall that Tikhon Zadonskii also spoke plainly about the necessity for a Russian translation. 109 The Russian Bible Society version was not irreproachable, but the nature of its problems and shortcomings could be corrected only through public discussion and broad cooperation, not through fear, condemnation, or suspicion.

Strictly speaking, Prince Golitsyn, that "layman in heretical garb," not the Russian Bible, was the object of attack. The final "uprising" against the Bible Society and its work united disparate people who scarcely had anything in common either temperamentally or in style. Two men, Archimandrite Fotii and Admiral Shishkov, 110 supplied the ideology for the entire anti-Bible intrigue. Actually, two ideologies were present. Archimandrite Fotii (Petr Spasskii, 1792-1838) typifies that troubled and giddy age with all its cankerous suspicion. Although a fanatical opponent of mystical and other diabolical intrigues, Fotii possessed the same psychology as his opponents and suffered from the same diseased ecstasy. In his autobiography, Fotii provides a most convincing and dreadful portrait of himself. A visionary and. devotee of ecstasy, he had nearly lost all sense of ecclesiastical-canonical reality. He is all the more pretentious for the utter lack of humility. His is the portrait of a conceited, insolent, and self-proclaimed charismatic, who presumptuously surrounds himself with an atmosphere of protective exaltation. A typical example of the seductive power of a false asceticism which becomes a terrible, blindly serpentine alley, Fotii existed in an emotional state, in a world of impressions and experiences. But he lacked perspective on religious life. Living in fear and apprehension, he dreaded and shrank from the public view. If he went on the offensive he did so from insurmountable fear. Herein lies the answer to the difficult question about Fotii's sincerity: he was not a vile hypocrite. His actions and accusations are consistent. He attacked the Bible Society in the genuine conviction that he was fighting with Beliar ("an archangelic struggle"). This personal conviction and sense of being a prophet who has been called or sent, the perception of an extraordinary mission or task, and a certain ecstatic egocentricity all characterize this type of fanatic. Fotii might be termed a man possessed rather than a hypocrite. In any case, the voice of the church's history and ancient traditions can scarcely be detected in Fotii's violent appeals and outbursts. He was too ignorant to do so, for he knew very little about patristic or even ascetical writings. He almost never refers to them. "I do not possess the [writings of the] Holy Fathers, I have and read only the Holy Bible." In this regard, Fotii did not depart from the custom of that "Biblical" age. Neither a rigorous defender nor guardian of the church's customs and traditions, Fotii loved to do everything to suit himself, which resulted in quarrels with the church authorities. Usually he argues on the basis of personal revelations and inspirations; on the basis of visions apparitions, and dreams. In short, Fotii was not so much superstitious as fanatical.

Fotii studied at the St. Petersburg Theological Academy "under the sharp eye of Archimandrite Filaret." But he did not graduate because of an illness which took the form of a paroxysm induced by fears and spiritual exhaustion. Fotii became confused and paralyzed by the mysticism then prevalent in society. Many at the academy read too deeply in the poisonous books of the liar and apostate Jung-Stilling.

Newly published writings, such as Stilling, Eckartshausen, and similar novelistic and freethinking books could be read at the academy. . .Quarrels broke out over the Thousand Year Reign of Christ on earth, eternal damnation, and other religious questions; some loved to deviate from the Holy Scriptures, others found mysteries everywhere. The academy library would not lend the works of the Holy Fathers, for no one gave permission or provided the example. German and other foreign commentators on the Holy Scriptures, who caused more harm than they did good, were recommended and passed around.

Fotii became utterly confused in such an environment. He also seems to have learned a good deal during the little more than a year he spent at the academy, although there is little likelihood that he learned and became trained "to discover mysteries everywhere." Nor did the academy infect him with a fashionable mania for interpreting the Apocalypse and divining the times through apocalyptical texts used as signs. Where Fotii's actual or imaginary enemies adduced the Kingdom of a Thousand Years from such texts, Fotii discerned the Antichrist. "The wood is already stacked and the fire is being kindled."

After leaving the academy, Fotii became a teacher at the Aleksandr Nevskii schools, where he was under the supervision of Rector Innokentii. 111 In 1817, Fotii accepted tonsure and was quickly appointed a teacher of religion in the second military academy. 112 While his field of vision expanded, Fotii continued to gather polemical materials, reading, rereading, and reviewing newly printed seditious books, "especially those either manifestly or secretly revolutionary and pernicious." His assortment and inventory of such books was rather diverse and disjointed and included books on English materialism, French pornography, freemasonry and magic, German philosophy, the sorcery of Boehme, Stilling, and similarly "satanic books," "revolutionary and evil" books, "wretched Masonic" books, the works of that "Masonic heretic" Fenelon and that "foul French woman " Guyon, and other works such as those "setting forth the teachings of the Methodists and the quietists, that is, of that Jacobinism and philosophy which hides behind the mask of Christianity." Fotii always remained mistrustful of the "newly educated" clergy: "not a single collaborator was found suitable; each was prepared to put the truth up for sale."

The Russian Bible made its appearance against this background. At first Fotii attacked actual Masons. As he put it, "At the risk of my life, I acted to counter Messenger of Zion [Sionskii Vestnik], Labzin, the Masonic lodges and heresies, trying to halt the spread of their schisms." Fotii was correct about many things, but he described all such defects with an hysterical intensity which could be more irritating than convincing. He possessed a peculiarly ecstatic suspiciousness which disfigured his accurate observations through the addition of imaginary and imperceivable traits. Metropolitan Mikhail appointed Innokentii to calm Fotii. But Innokentii only further aroused him with his own bitter remarks about the snares of the devil. Fotii later wrote a Life [Zhitie] of Innokentii after his own likeness or in keeping with his imagined ideal. In reality, Innokentii was more subtle and profound, although he lacked sufficient self control and patience.

Fotii soon came to be too obstreperous for the capital and was dispatched to Novgorod as abbot of the Derevianits Monastery, then Skovoroda Monastery, and finally the Iur'ev Monastery, where he served as archimandrite. While at the Iur'ev Monastery, Fotii formed a close friendship with Countess A.A. Orlova, 113 which proved to be the decisive event in his life. Through "Countess Anna," Fotii unexpectedly began his friendship with Prince Golitsyn during those same years. Their correspondence which has been preserved, possesses a warm and sincere character. 114 In his "autobiography," Fotii recalls his long and extensive conversations with Golitsyn at Countess Orlova's home. These talks sometimes lasted nine hours without interruption. Fotii emphasizes that Golitsyn passionately came to love him and was prepared to fulfill his every wish. Judging by Golitsyn's actual letters, Fotii did not exaggerate. He succeeded for a time in reconciling Golitsyn with Metropolitan Seraphim. Golitsyn saw in Fotii another St. John Chrysostom and a "youthful starets" [elder] . At the time, Fotii was barely thirty. Fotii did not conceal his own warm feelings: "You and I — the two of us — are like one body and soul, one mind and heart; we are one because Christ is in our midst."

The "uprising" broke out in 1824. As Filaret recalls, "The uprising against the Ministry of Religious Affairs and against the Bible Society and the translation of the Holy Scriptures had been organized by people guided by personal interests, who not only spread farfetched and exaggerated suspicions, but even produced fabrications and slanders, hoping to attract other, well-intentioned people to their cause." Arakcheev's115 role in this intrigue needs no elaboration. For him the intrigue was the denouement and the means for removing from authority and influence a powerful rival with personal ties to the Tsar.

The appearance of Gossner's book On the Gospel of Matthew [O Evangelii ot Matfeia] in Russian translation served as the occasion and the pretext for decisive action. The translation could only have been an excuse, for the book was indistinguishable from the multitude of such edifying and pietistic works then being published. Several times Fotii wrote frenzied letters to the Tsar, warning him of danger. He did so with the knowledge and conviction that he had been consecrated and sent to testify in defense of the beleaguered church and fatherland. An angel of the Lord had been sent to him on Palm Sunday. The angel, appearing before him during a dream, held in his hand a book with large letters inscribed on its cover: "this book has been composed for revolution and at this moment its intention is revolution." The book, it turned out, was A Summons to men to follow the inner inclination of the Spirit of Christ. 116 Fotii defines the basic idea of this cunning and impious pamphlet as "an appeal to apostasy from the faith of Christ and a summons to alter the civil order in all of its parts."

The only argument which might possibly undermine the combined ministry in the eyes of Alexander I was "revolution." Fotii candidly says that: "Such political activities and plots had much greater influence on him [Alexander] than did the welfare of the whole Church." Religiously, Alexander was no less radical than Golitsyn. Fotii testified that "residing in this city for one and a half months, I secretly observed Gossner and learned that he was preparing revolution in those minds which he had been brought here to teach. He has been so well protected that no one dares touch him; he was summoned here because none among our Orthodox clergy could be found capable of such schemes." Fotii's letters aroused the Tsar's interest precisely because of their hysterically apocalyptical character. Consequently, he wished to meet Fotii personally. He had earlier met with Metropolitan Seraphim. After his audience with Alexander, Fotii twice visited Golitsyn and at the second meeting cursed him to his face.

Fotii stands before the holy icons: a candle burns, the holy sacraments of Christ are before him, the Bible is open (at Jeremiah 23). The prince enters like a beast of prey (Jeremiah 5:6), extending his hand for the blessing. But Fotii gives him no blessing, speaking thus: in the book Mystery of the Cross [Tainstvo kresta], printed under thy supervision, it is written: the clergy are beasts; and I, Fotii, a member of the clergy, am a priest of God, so I do not want to bless thee, and anyway thou dost not need it. (He gave him Jeremiah 23 to read). However, Prince Golitsyn refused to do so and fled, but Fotii shouted after Golitsyn through the door he left ajar: if thou dost not repent, thou shalt fall into Hell.

That is Fotii's version. In his Notes [Zapiski], Shishkov adds that: "Fotii shouted after him; `Anathema! Thou shalt be damned.' That same day, a rescript was issued exiling Gossner from the country and ordering that the Russian translation of his book be burned at the hand of the public executioner. Furthermore, the translators and censors were to be placed under arrest. Fotii greatly feared the Tsar's wrath for his daring anathema, but he continued to send his appeals to the court, including one outlining a "plan for the destruction of Russia" as well as "directives for the immediate destruction of this plan in a quiet and felicitous manner." The question of the Bible Society was posed most forcefully. "The Bible Society must be eliminated on the pretext that since the Bible has already been printed, it is now no longer needed." The Ministry of Religious Affairs was to be abolished, and its present dignitary deprived of two other posts. Koshelev 117 should be removed, Gossner expelled, Fessler 118 banished into exile, and the Methodists driven out, or at least their leaders. Once again Fotii invoked divine inspiration: "Divine Providence does not now reveal that anything more should be done. I have proclaimed God's commandment; its fulfillment depends on Thee. Precisely twelve years have elapsed from 1812 to 1824. God conquered the visible Napoleon who invaded Russia. Through Thy person let Him conquer the spiritual Napoleon:' During the ensuing days, Fotii sent the Tsar several more of his alarming "missives." "A great, fearful, and illegal mystery is at work, which I am revealing to thee, O thou powerful one with the strength and spirit of God." The goal was achieved and on 15 May 1824, Golitsyn was dismissed, the combined ministry abolished, and the former departmental divisions reestablished. Nevertheless, Golitsyn did not fall into disfavor or lose his personal influence, even after Alexander's death.

The aged Admiral Shishkov, "the half-dead Shishkov dug up from oblivion," was appointed minister of a separate Ministry of Education. Although Shishkov did not become Minister of Religious Affairs, inertia perpetuated the politics of the combined ministry only in reverse, for he persistently interfered with Synodal affairs. Shishkov had no very precise religious views. He was a moderate free-thinker of the eighteenth century, who limited his rationalism out of national-political considerations. Even close friends who were well disposed toward him testified that Shishkov held "views closely approximating, if they did not actually coincide with, Socinianism." 119 Fotii referred to him rather evasively: "He defended the Orthodox Church to the extent that he possessed any knowledge." Fotii knew perfectly well such "knowledge" was rather meager and related more to the church's role in a state which had called upon it to be a pillar and a bulwark against rebellion and revolution. However, Shishkov had his own firm opinions about Biblical translation. The very idea of translating the Bible seemed to him the foulest of heresies, although above all a "literary heresy," in Sverbeev's 120 clever phrase. For Shishkov denied the very existence of a Russian language. "As though it was something distinct," he would say perplexedly. "Our Slavic and Russian language is one and the same, differentiated only into higher language and common speech." This was Shishkov's basic religious-philological thesis. Literary or colloquial Russian in his view and understanding is "only the dialect of The common people" within a Slavic- Russian language. "What is the Russian language divorced from Slavic? A dream, a riddle!. . . .Is it not odd to affirm the existence of a language which does not contain a single word?" The lexicon is one and the same for both styles of dialects. "By Slavic we mean nothing else than that language which is higher than colloquial and which, consequently, can only be learned by reading; it is the lofty, learned literary language."

In the final analysis, Shishkov distinguished between the two languages: the "language of faith" and the "language of passions " or to put it another way, the "language of the church" and the "language of the theater." Biblical translation appeared to him to be a "transposition" of the Word of God from the lofty and dignified dialect to that low-styled language of the passions and the theater. He believed that such a step was being taken in order to deliberately belittle the Bible, hence his constant fuss over "the observance of Orthodoxy in literary style." He also considered the translation hastily made; "thrown to a few students at the Academy with instructions to do it as quickly as possible." The Russian translation's departure from Church Slavic cast a shadow on a text which had become familiar and hallowed by church usage and thereby undermined confidence in it. "The pride of some monk [Filaret?] or learned braggart says: thus it is in Hebrew. Well, who will convince me that he knows the full force of such a little known language, written so long ago?" Quite frequently Shishkov speaks as if Slavic was the original language of Holy Scripture. "How dare they alter words considered to come from the mouth of God?"

Shishkov was not alone in these religious-philological reflections. Curiously enough, for similar reasons, Speranskii also completely opposed a Russian translation of the Bible. The language of the "common people" seemed to him less expressive and precise. Would it not be better to teach everyone Slavic? Speranskii advised his daughter to use the English translation, not the Russian, when she encountered difficult passages. Many others shared this opinion. 121

Shishkov detected a particularly sinister scheme in the publication of the Pentateuch "separately from the Prophets." Whereas in fact, the Pentateuch represented the first volume of a complete Russian Bible and had been planned for publication prior to the succeeding volumes in order to speed the work. Shishkov suspected that this separate publication had been conceived and executed in order to push the common people into the arms of the Molokane heresy or simply into Judaism. Might not someone understand the Mosaic law literally, particularly the observance of the Sabbath? . . . .Should not a qualification be added that all this can be explained figuratively and as shadows of the past? With the support of Metropolitan Seraphim, Shishkov succeeded in having the Russian Pentateuch burned at the brick factory of the Aleksandr Nevskii Monastery. Subsequently, Filaret of Kiev 122 could not recall this destruction of the Holy Scriptures without a terrible shudder.

Shishkov saw no need to distribute the Bible among laymen and the people generally. "Will not this imaginary need, by demeaning the significance of the Holy Scriptures, result in nothing other than heresies or schisms?" Would not the dignity of the Bible be lowered by having it in the home? "What can come of this? . . . .A vast sum will be expended in order that the Gospel, heretofore regarded with solemnity might suffer the loss of its importance, be sullied, ripped apart, thrown under benches, or serve as wrapping paper for household goods, and have no more ability to act on the human mind than on the human heart." Shishkov writes still more emphatically that "this reading of the sacred books aims to destroy the true faith, disrupt the fatherland and produce strife and rebellion." He believed that the Bible Society and revolution were synonyms.

Quite consistently, Shishkov also objected to translation of the Bible into other languages such as Tatar or Turkish, for who could vouch for the fidelity of the translation? Shishkov also feared commentaries on the Bible. Who will explain the Scriptures once they are so widely distributed and so easily accessible?

Without qualified interpreters and preachers, what will be the effect when large numbers of Bibles and separate books of the Bible have been disseminated? Amidst such an unchecked (and one might say universal) deluge of books of the Holy Scriptures, where will room be found for the Apostolic teachings, practices, and customs of the Church? In a word, for everything which heretofore has served as a bulwark of Orthodoxy? . . . All of these things will be dragged down, crushed, and trampled under foot.

Similarly, Shishkov viewed the publication of the Catechism [Katekhizis] as a dire plot. Why print so many copies, if not to spread an impure-faith? (A total of 18,000 copies had been printed). Once again the Russian language more than anything else frightened Shishkov. "It is unseemly in religious books to have such prayers as `I believe in One God' and the Pater Noster transposed into the common dialect." The Catechism contained scriptural texts in Russian.

The catechism composed by Filaret (a task originally entrusted to Metropolitan Mikhail) had been issued in 1823 with the approval of the Holy Synod and by imperial directive. "At the request of the Minister of Education," accompanied by the use of the Emperor's name, the Catechism was removed from sale at the end of 1824. Filaret immediately lodged a protest against its removal and openly raised the question about Orthodoxy. "If the Orthodoxy of the Catechism, so solemnly confirmed by the Holy Synod, is in doubt, then will not the Orthodoxy of the Holy Synod itself be called into question?" In reply, Metropolitan Seraphim insisted that the question of Orthodoxy had not been raised and that there was no doubt or dispute on that point. The Catechism had been suspended solely because of the language of the Biblical texts and of the "prayers." Seraphim, with some disingenuousness, went on to say. You may ask why the Russian language should not have a place in the catechism, especially in its abbreviated form intended for young children entirely unfamiliar with Slavic and therefore incapable of understanding the truths of the faith expounded for them in that language, when it, that is, Russian, has been retained in the sacred books of the New Testament and in the Psalms. To this and many other questions which might be asked in this connection, I cannot give you any satisfactory answer. I hope that time will explain to us that which now seems clouded. In my opinion, that time will soon come . . .

Seraphim's answer could signify that he either had not personally or actively participated in the new course of events, or that this apparent inconsistency could be quickly overcome by extending the ban to include both the Russian translation of the New Testament and the Bible Society. In any case, Seraphim simply lied when he denied that the Catechism's Orthodoxy had been questioned. Fotii emphatically and publicly pronounced it heretical, compared it with "canal water," and unfavorably contrasted the Catechism with the older Orthodox Confession of Peter Mogila. 123 The Catechism was subjected to examination, if not officially, then at least officiously. Apparently Archpriest I.S. Kochetov (1790-1854), a candidate for a higher degree, who had graduated with the first class of the reformed St. Petersburg Academy, and at that time a religion teacher at the Tsarskoe Selo lycee, had been entrusted with the review. His evaluation, quickly arrived at, did not favor the catechism. Kochetov took more interest in questions of language than of theology. As a philologist, he served as a member of the Russian Academy, beginning in 1828. Later he achieved full membership. 124

Metropolitan Evgenii, 125 who recently had been summoned to attend the meetings of the Holy Synod, maintained a very critical attitude toward the Catechism. Filaret's successor at Tver' and Iaroslavl', Simeon Krylov-Platonov, 126 contemptuously dubbed the Catechism "a miserable pamphlet," containing unheard of teaching and "insufferable insolence." In any event, a revised edition of the Catechism was recirculated only after careful re-examination of all Biblical texts and citations, including their "presentation in Slavic rather than in the Russian dialect." Even the language of exposition was deliberately adapted or made more nearly approximate to Slavic. However, only insignificant changes in content were made at that time.

Shishkov obtained Emperor Alexander's permission to forbid translations of the Bible as well as to close the Bible Society. He was able to supply some arguments himself, and others were suggested to him by such zealots as M. Magnitskii 127 and A.A. Pavlov 128 (who worked in the office of the Over Procurator of the Holy Synod). Fotii described Pavlov as that "brave warrior of 1824." Metropolitan Seraphim acted as one with Shishkov. However, Seraphim acted on suggestion. A timid man, he lacked "sufficient clarity of mind" to distinguish responsibly enthusiasm and suspicions amidst the cross-currents of rumors and fears. Left to himself, Seraphim would have insisted only on the dismissal of the "blind minister." All further reasons were suggested or even imposed on him. At one time Seraphim had studied in Novikov's "seminary," and he had been an active member of the Bible Society, both as archbishop of Minsk and later as metropolitan of Moscow. He often delivered speeches filled with pathos in the meetings of the Moscow Bible Society. However, his sentiments were changed when he transferred to St. Petersburg. He immediately broke with Golitsyn. Following Golitsyn's removal from office, Metropolitan Seraphim, as president of the Bible Society, began to importune Emperor Alexander about abolishing and closing down all Bible societies and transferring all their affairs, property, and translation projects to the Holy Synod.

Such demands were not quickly realized, coming as they did only during the next reign under the fresh impact of the Decembrist revolt, 129 the responsibility for which Shishkov convincingly blamed on the "mystics." However, the rescript of 12 April 1826 closing the Bible Society contained an important qualification: "I sanction the continued sale at the established price for those who desire them the books of the Holy Scriptures which have already been printed by the Bible Society in Slavic, Russian, and in other languages spoken by inhabitants of the Empire." Even Nicholas I 130 was not fully prepared to follow Shishkov. In practice, however, the publications of the Bible Society were taken from circulation and only the committees concerned for prisons continued to supply the Russian translation of the New Testament to exiles and prisoners from their stocks.

Curiously enough, in 1828, Prince K.K. Liven, the former superintendent in Dorpat and a prominent and influential figure in the former Bible Society, replaced Shishkov as Minister of Education. Later, in 1832, he became the head of the revived German Bible Society. Prince Liven belonged to the Moravian Brethren. "Sometimes an official sent from somewhere with an important dispatch would discover him in the reception hall in front of the lectern, loudly singing the Psalms. Turning to the official, he would listen to him, but without answering, continue his liturgy" (Vigel'). Of course, Liven was a German and a Protestant; and it was the German Bible Society, which was restored. Yet as Minister of Education, he was called upon to administer to the whole empire. In any case, by that time, "the views of the government" had changed once again.

Return to Scholasticism.

The "uprising" of 1824 was directed not only against the Bible Society, but against the whole "new order." Filaret of Moscow correctly defined the purpose of the "uprising" as "a return to the time of scholasticism." Yet, the chief defender of the new order during these years turned out to be none other than Filaret. Filaret (1782-1867) had a long life, literally from the annexation of the Crimea to the "Great Reforms." But he was a man of the Alexandrine age. He was born in sleepy, oblivious Kolomna and studied in a pre-reform seminary where students were taught in Latin from Latin books. However, at the Holy Trinity monastery seminary, where he finished his studies and became a teacher, the spirit of Protestant scholasticism was mitigated and moderated by the winnowing of that churchly pietism so typically exemplified in Metropolitan Platon Levshin. 131

Archimandrite Evgraf (Muzalevskii-Platonov), the rector, taught from Protestant texts. Filaret recalled that "Evgraf would assign selected passages to be copied from Hollatius."132 Lessons consisted of translating and commenting on these dictated passages. "Those doctrines which Orthodox and Protestants have in common, such as the Holy Trinity, Redemption, and so on were studied systematically, but others, for example, the doctrine of the Church, were not read at all. Evgraf did not receive a systematic education, although he recognized the necessity for studying the church fathers and he studied them." Evgraf typifies a generation in transition. He loved mystical interpretations of the Bible and would become quite transported by such explanations. "The Kingdom of God is contained not in the word, but in strength." He attempted a transition to Russian language instruction. Subsequently he served as rector of the reformed St. Petersburg Theological Academy, but he died soon after his appointment.

Filaret did not judge him too harshly when he said that: "An inexperienced teacher instructed us in theology, but he did so with great application." Filaret's personal recollections of the "pre-reform" seminary were wholly negative. "What was there to admire?" Filaret himself acquired a brilliant command of classical languages and a sound preparation in stylistics and philology from such a school. As a consequence he knew ancient languages better than modern ones and never studied German at all. For the rest, he could thank his personal talents and dedication to hard work. Thus, in an important sense, there was some basis for his fond description of himself as a self-educated man.

In 1809 the newly tonsured hierodeacon Filaret was summoned from the quiet refuge of a Holy Trinity Monastery bathed in the spirit of pious reverie to St. Petersburg "for inspection" and for service in the newly reformed ecclesiastical schools. For Filaret the startling contrast and the sudden transfer gave St. Petersburg a strange appearance: "The course of affairs is entirely incomprehensible to me," he admitted in a letter to his father. He could recall those first impressions of St. Petersburg for the rest of his life. The Synod greeted him with the advice to read "Swedenborg's Miracles" [Shvedenborgovy chudesa] and learn French. He was taken to court to view the fireworks and attend a masquerade party in order to meet Prince Golitsyn, the Over Procurator of the Holy Synod, quite literally "amidst the noise of the ball."

Then a short man, his breast adorned with stars and medals, entered the room and began threading his way through the hall. He was wearing a three-cornered hat and some sort of silk cape over an embroidered uniform. Then he ascended to the balcony where the clergy were decorously seated. He mingled politely with the members of the Synod, nodding to them, shaking their hands, briefly murmuring a word or two first to one, then to another. No one seemed surprised either at his attire or his familiarity. This was Filaret's first masquerade ball, and he had never before seen a domino. "At the time I was an object of amusement in the Synod " Filaret recalled, "and I have remained a fool." Filaret received a cool welcome in St. Petersburg, and he was not immediately permitted to teach at the academy. But by early 1812 he had become the academy rector and an archimandrite, with the task of supervising the Iur'ev Monastery in Novgorod. He advanced primarily through his ardor, his distinguished "preaching of the Word of God " and his "edifying and eloquent homilies on the truths of faith." Filaret had already attracted attention as a stylist and a preacher while at the Holy Trinity Monastery. He truly did have a gift and feeling for words.

Platon and Anastasii Bratanovskii o among Russian preachers influenced him. In St. Petersburg he became acquainted with seventeenth century French sermonists, especially Massillon, Bourdaloue, and most of all, Fenelon. 134 But the influence of the eastern fathers, Chrysostom and Gregory the Theologian, whom Filaret always particularly loved and valued, is quite pronounced. Filaret chose contemporary themes for his sermons. He spoke about the gifts and manifestations of the Spirit, the mystery of the Cross, "a voice crying in the wilderness"-the favorite topics of pietism and quietism. He frequently preached in Prince Golitsyn's chapel, even on weekdays. Grigorii (Postnikov), 135 a former student and friend, commented rather unfavorably on these early sermons. He wrote to Filaret, frankly saying that these sermons displayed "a studied concern for wordplay, ingenuity, and circumlocution, which could truly vex a heart seeking the unalloyed and edifying truth." In fact, during those first years, Filaret spoke with an overly intense and ornamental style. Later he became calmer and more cautious, but his language always remained complex and his phrases were always arranged as if in counterpoint. Such features do not diminish the expressiveness of his sermons. Even Herzen 136 admitted Filaret possessed a rare control over language. "He masterfully commanded the Russian language, skillfully interweaving it with Church Slavic." This "mastery" of language provides the principal reason for his powerful style: he writes with the living word, a word which seems to be thinking, an inspired and vocal pondering. Filaret always preached the Gospel and never tried to achieve mere rhetorical effect. Precisely during those early St. Petersburg years, he produced his original and exemplary sermons on Good Friday (in 1813, and especially in 1816). Filaret's scholarly and pedagogical duties during those years display a still greater intensity. A burdensome and severe ordeal awaited him. "I had to teach what I had never been taught." In the short time from 1810 to 1817, he had to prepare himself and construct practically an entire course in theology in all of its branches, including exegetical theology, canon law, and church antiquities. It was not surprising that he complained of extreme exhaustion. Nor is it surprising that these first attempts did not always succeed or represent complete originality. They often produced diverse and overly fresh impressions. "Influences" would be too strong a word. Filaret's first books, An Outline of Church-Biblical History [Nachertanie tserkovnobibleiskoi istorii, 1816] and Notes on the Book of Genesis [Zapiski na knigu Bytiia, 1816], were modelled on Buddeus. 137 He also borrowed Buddeus's scholarly apparatus. Such borrowing was simply unavoidable given his deadline and the haste of the work. The students had to be given textbooks and other manuals in order to take the examinations.

Filaret was an inspiring and brilliant professor. He spoke distinctly with an incisive, lofty, and intelligent manner; but [he spoke] more to the intellect than to the heart. He freely expounded Holy Scriptures, as if the words simply flowed from his mouth. The students became so taken by him, that when the time came for him to stop teaching, a great desire always remained to go on listening without regard for food or drink. He produced a powerful impression through his lessons. Those lessons seemed truly pleasing and perfect to everyone. During class, he appeared as a wise and eloquent speaker and a skillful writer. Everything indicated he devoted much time to scholarship.

This is Archimandrite Fotii's own assessment. He adds that Filaret strongly advocated monasticism "and was very compassionate." Fotii had an opportunity to experience that compassion during his difficult and troubled year at the academy. As Sturdza noted, at that time Filaret was "agitated by the promptings of many quite diverse influences." Along with everyone else, he read Jung-Stilling, Eckartshausen, Fenelon, and Guyon, as well as Kerner's The Seer of Prevorst. 138 Traces of such reading unquestionably remained an indelible part of his spiritual and intellectual make-up. Filaret could find a common language not only with Golitsyn, but also with Labzin and even with itinerant Quakers. Every dimension of religious life interested him and attracted him. However, for all such interests, Filaret stayed squarely within the church and inwardly remained untouched by this mystical awakening. Because he was always so impressionable, Filaret inclined toward suspicion: he noted everything and probed and reflected deeply on each detail, a discomforting habit for those around him. But he preferred a certain reserve, while subduing and disciplining himself above all others. Even Fotii, who in his memoirs reproached Filaret for many things and strongly disliked him, admitted that, while a student "living under the sharp eye of Archimandrite Filaret," he "never noticed, or could have noticed, even the slightest blemish on the teaching about the church, either in classes at the academy or in private." Fotii furiously attacks Filaret for only one thing: his excessive patience and extreme taciturnity.

Innokentii Smirnov advised Fotii to pay Filaret frequent visits, where he might learn what silence means. Such a trait actually was one of Filaret's characteristics. He appeared secretive and evasive. In is memoirs, Sturdza writes that there was "something enigmatic" in his entire being. Completely open only before God, and not before men-at least not indiscriminately-"Filaret never allowed himself moments of unguarded confidences." With partial justification, he might be accused of excessive timidity and caution, for he did not wish to risk challenging powerful authority. ("We two archimandrites of the Iur'ev and Pustynsk monasteries will not save the Church, if it contains some defect," Filaret told Innokentii). But Filaret's caution had another dimension. He had no faith in the utility or reliability of harshly restrictive measures, and he was in no hurry to meddle or pass judgment. Always able to distinguish the error from the person making it, he looked benevolently on every sincere impulse of the soul. Even in the yearnings of the mystics he sensed a true religious thirst, a spiritual restlessness which stumbled along errant paths, only because "the rightful path had been poorly constructed." Thus, for polemical purposes, prohibitions alone would not be sufficient. Above all, education was needed. For that constructive and creative struggle with error which Filaret wished to wage, one must teach, reason, and refrain from impatient quarrels.

Behind the facade of mystical seductions, Filaret could recognize a vital need for religion, a thirst for religious instruction and enlightenment: hence his enthusiastic participation in the work of the Bible Society. The work attracted him, for he believed that the church should expend its energies on translation of the Bible, "so that the bread might not be taken from the children." He firmly believed in the power of renewal found in the Word of God, and forever linked his name with and his selflessly dedicated life to, the translation of the Russian Bible. His labor on behalf of the Bible is difficult to value at its true worth. For him personally the work meant great personal trials and humiliations. At the height of the "uprising" against the Bible in St. Petersburg, Filaret, in Moscow, replied that "such a desire to read the Bible, is already a sign of moral improvement." If some prefer to live on roots rather than pure bread, the Bible cannot be held responsible. To the anticipated question: "Why this innovation in a matter so ancient and unneedful of change as Christianity and the Bible?" Filaret replied, Why this innovation? What is new? Dogmas? Precepts living? But the Bible Society preaches none of these things but instead places into the hands of those who desire it a book from which the truths of the Church always have been drawn, and from which Orthodox dogmas and also the pure precepts for living continue to be derived. The Society is a new one? Yet it introduces nothing new into Christianity or produces the slightest alteration in the Church . . . .`Why this innovation of foreign origin?' they continue. In reply to that question, one might point out for our worthy compatriots many things and ask a similar question: `Why are they not only of foreign origin, but even entirely foreign'? . . .

As one contemporary put it, "some of the most devout people held the unfortunate belief that people would go mad from reading this sacred book." For a time students in the military schools were officially forbidden to read the Bible, ostensibly as a precautionary measure, for two cadets had already become addled. Many others "regarded it as a book only for use in church and suited solely to priests." From fear of mystical errors and excesses, people suddenly began to shun the writings of Macarius of Egypt and Isaac the Syrian, whose "wise prayer of the heart has been destroyed and derided as a pestilence and a ruination."

Somewhat later Filaret had to prove that it was permissible to write new commentaries on St. Paul's epistles, despite the fact that Chrysostom had long ago provided explanations. "Smoke consumes one's eyes, arid they say `the light of the sun consumes them.' Choking from the smoke, they gasp, `how poisonous is the water from the spring of life.' "

Such a spirit of timid theological endeavor always disturbed Filaret, wherever and whenever it appeared. "Human nature contains a strange ambivalence and contradictory tendencies," he. once said. On the one hand exists a sense of need for the Divine and a desire for communion with God; on the other hand, there is a mysterious disinclination to occupy oneself with Divine matters and an impulse to avoid any discourse with God. . . .The first of these tendencies belongs to man's original nature, while the other derives from a nature blemished by sin.

Possession and preservation of faith are not sufficient: "perhaps you have doubts you actually possess faith, or how you possess it. . . ." Filaret continues. As long as your faith resides in the Word of God and in the Creed, then your faith belongs to God, His prophets, Apostles, and Fathers of the Church and not to you. When you hold your faith in your thoughts and memory, then you begin to acquire it as your own; but I still fear for your acquisition [of it], because the living faith in your thoughts is, perhaps, still only a token of that treasure you have yet to receive, that is the living power of faith.

In other words, faith, in the fullness of its dogmatic content, must become the vital principle or focus in life. Each person must not merely remember the content of that faith, but acquire it with the labor of the mind and with the entirety of the soul. Filaret was not afraid to awaken thought, although he knew temptations could only be overcome and conquered by the creative act and not by frightened concealment. Subsequently he wrote: "The necessity to do battle with enemies and with teachings contrary to dogma is quite a sufficient task. What purpose is served by combatting options which are not inimical to any dogmatic truth?" Filaret always emphasized the necessity to engage in theology as the single and immutable foundation for a complete religious life. "Christianity is not being a fool for Christ's sake [iurodstvo], nor is it ignorance, but it is the wisdom of God." Hence no Christian dares halt at the beginning or remain only at an elementary stage. Christianity is a path or a way. Filaret constantly recalls that "[we] should consider no wisdom, even that which is secret and hidden, to be alien and unrelated to us, but with humility we should direct our minds toward contemplation of God." Christian personality is shaped only through such reasoning and understanding; only in this manner is the "perfect man of God" shaped, and formed. Filaret's favorite aphorism, "theology reasons," is a commandment "to reason" given to everyone and not to the few. He considered overly detailed textbooks harmful, and for quite characteristic reasons. "A student having before him a large textbook, that he cannot absorb even that which had been prepared for him Consequently, the possibility of constructing something for himself seems impossible. Thus the mind is not stirred to activity and the memory retains the words rather than the ideas from the pages of book." What is actually needed is to arouse and exercise the "mind's ability to function," and not simply to develop the memory. Herein lies the solution or explanation for the fervor with which Filaret all of his life fought on behalf of the Russian language, both for the Bible and for theological instruction. He wished, and strove to make theology accessible to everyone, and for that reason he seemed terrible and dangerous to his opponents. General accessibility is just what they did not want. "Translation of the New Testament into the simple dialect left a permanent and indelible stain upon him," wrote Fotii.

It was necessary to wage war on two fronts in order to achieve the use of Russian in school instruction. First, one had to combat the civil authorities (and during Nicholas I's reign all "thought" was regarded as the embryo of revolution). The so-called Committee of 6 December (1826-1830) 139 completely opposed the proposal for instruction in Russian, arguing that the necessary addition of new Russian language textbook editions for dogmatic and hermeneutical theology might attract the attention of unenlightened people to questions about faith: "Providing an opportunity for unfounded explanations and conjectures." Second, one had to debate with the represeritatives of the old learning about the use of Latin in theological instruction. Very many such representatives still survived. After Golitsyn's departure, Metropolitan Evgenii of Kiev 140 had been summoned to the Synod. He was entrusted with a new construction of the ecclesiastical schools, "for the establishment of ecclesiastical schools on the firm and steadfast foundation of Orthodoxy," as Metropolitan Seraphim wrote. Fotii recommended Evgenii and openly counterposed him to Filaret as "wiser than Filaret and at the same time an Orthodox and great man and a pillar of the Church: ' (Fotii gave Evgenii a solemn greeting). However, once in St. Petersburg, Evgenii became too preoccupied with his personal and archeological interests to be able to devote much attention to the large questions of church politics. Nevertheless, a reactionary spirit could be felt quite strongly among the new membership of the Commission on Ecclesiastical Schools. Filaret of Moscow did not attend the sessions of the Synod during those troubled years (if one does not count the brief session of the Synod in Moscow at Nicholas's coronation). He occupied himself with the affairs of his diocese, and only in 1827 did he return to St. Petersburg. During the first weeks after his arrival, he was called upon to discuss the question of church reform. Someone had presented the emperor with a proposal for fundamental reforms aimed at "saddling the Church with a kind of Protestant consistory composed of clergy and laymen," in Filaret's understanding of the proposal's intent. Apparently General Merder, 141 Nicholas's former tutor, had transmitted the proposal. Filaret believed the author to be A. A. Pavlov, the cohort of Fotii and Shishkov during the "uprising" of 1824. The Synod struggled to compose a reply to the substance of the proposal. Filaret also presented a personal note, which was submitted by the Synod as the opinion of one of its members. The Emperor wrote the word "just" [spravedlivo] on this report, in which Filaret had once again raised the question of Biblical translation. But Filaret's suggestion could make no further progress in view of Metropolitan Seraphim's unqualified opposition. Filaret did not insist. "I do not wish to produce a schism in the Church."

In the next few years, Filaret had one other opportunity to set forth in detail his views on the question of church schools. Once again the opportunity came in connection with those same proposals for reform. He roundly condemned the scholastic schools, and still more emphatically castigated the belated attempts to return to such superannuated models. Before the reform several ecclesiastical schools were distinguished by a knowledge of Latin. . . .As a result, priest knew Latin pagan authors well, but hardly knew religious and Church writers. They could speak and write in Latin better than in Russian. With their exquisite phrases in a dead language, they were more able to shine in a circle of scholars than illuminate the people with the living knowledge of truth. Only dogmatic theology was taught, and then in the school manner. The result was a dry, cold knowledge, a lack of a sufficiently practical capacity to inform, a forced tone, fruitless teaching, and an inability to speak to the people about the truths which seem so familiar in the schools. Since the reforms of the church schools in 1814, instruction in practical theology [deiatel'noe bogoslovie] has been introduced, thereby making the study of theology closer to the demands of life. . . .The Russian language was permitted in teaching theology. Knowledge of Latin became weaker, but at the same time the school terminology began to give way to a purer and cleaner exposition of truth. The extension of true knowledge was strengthened and its communication to the people made easier. . .

Filaret emphasized that: "Theological understanding, crushed by the great weight of school terminology taught in Latin, did not freely act on the mind during the period of study, and after study only with the greatest difficulty was it transposed into Russian for communication to the people." He then criticized the latest directives from the Commission on Ecclesiastical Schools. True, he agreed, not all teachers constructed their courses successfully, but should teaching from "one's own lectures" be totally prohibited for that reason? Must Latin once again become compulsory and Feofilakt's theology textbook, 142 "copied from Buddeus's Lutheran theology," be assigned once again? Filaret once more adduced an argument based on effectiveness. "Return to Latin scholasticism from instruction in a comprehensible native language cannot facilitate the improvement of education. It is surprising that a time which is being praised for its zeal for Orthodoxy should prefer a return to Latin."

Another Filaret, the archbishop of Riazan' and later metropolitan of Kiev, responded to this determined note. Without quarrelling directly with Filaret of Moscow, he insisted upon preserving Latin for various reasons: as a defensive measure for scholarship, but more importantly as a precaution, so that errors and heresies refuted in dogmatic theology would not gain public attention through Russian books. Nevertheless, he did agree with certain points, and proposed that catechisms, particularly the Orthodox Confession, be published for popular use in Russian and Church Slavic. He also admitted that practical theology could best be taught in Russian. Finally, he thought it desirable to organize the translation of patristic writings into Russian from Greek and Latin. Filaret of Moscow had to give way. The final report did not include a proposal for theological instruction in Russian.

I proposed that theology be taught in Russian at the seminaries in order that its study and its transmission to the people might be made easier and so that those who are distrustful will not ask why we conceal the Holy Gospel in a non-Orthodox language. I stated that it is strange and crippling to give sway to Latin in the Greek Church and that Feofan Prokopovich, by doing so, had disfigured our learning, contrary to the general opinion of the Russian hierarchy at that time, and contrary to the example of all Eastern antiquity; but I had to be silent, in order to end those disagreements which could impede our work.

However, Filaret did achieve one thing: a special point was added to the Synodal resolution; "in order that instruction conducted in the ecclesiastical schools might be more fruitfully directed toward the goal of popular education in faith and morality by means of an educated clergy, to that end capable people should be encouraged to prepare theology textbooks which expound truths in a precise way, unobscured by scholastic subtleties, and which modify [theology] to suit the circumstances of the Eastern Greco-Russian Church."

The dispute over the language of instruction was decided with out preliminary debate. Despite the prohibition, in a short time Russian became the language of the schools everywhere. Filaret had already lectured in Russian at the St. Petersburg Academy, as did his successor Grigorii (Postnikov). Kirill (Bogoslovskii-Platonov) 143 did so in Moscow. Both Grigorii and Kirill were graduates in the first class at the St. Petersburg Academy. Moisei, the rector at the Kiev Academy, 144 had already taught in Russian. Meletii (L.eontovich), 145 and later Innokentii, followed his example. Gradually Latin fell by the wayside in the seminaries so that by the 1840's scarcely any school still taught, theology in Latin. Nevertheless, the transition to Russian still did not signify a genuine liberation from the captivity or slavery of scholasticism. In the 1840's Russian theology had to suffer still another relapse of Latin scholasticism. Once again the initiative belonged to the vising Over Procurator.

Metropolitan Filaret of Moscow.

Filaret wrote very little. The circumstances of his life were unfavorable to writing. Only in his youth could he give himself to scholarship without too much interference. But he was compelled to work hastily. These years were actually more devoted to study than to independent creativity. Soon called to serve in the upper hierarchy, Filaret thereafter had neither the freedom nor the leisure to systematically investigate and study theology. And in his mature years, Filaret was able to be a theologian only as a preacher. In fact, his Sermons and Addresses [Slova i rechi] remains his principal theological legacy. Filaret never constructed a theological system. His sermons are only fragments, but they contain an inner wholeness and unity. It is not a unity of system, it is a unity of conception. These fragments reveal a living theological experience tormented and tempered in an ordeal of prayer and vigil. Filaret of Moscow was the first person in the history of modern Russian theology for whom theology once more became the aim of life, the essential step toward spiritual progress and construction. He was not merely a theologian, he lived theology. From the ambo or his episcopal seat in the cathedral, he firmly and judiciously taught the lessons of faith. Filaret was a disciplined speaker. He never simply spoke, but always read or followed a written text, an oratorical requirement from his school days.

As a theologian and teacher he was above all a Biblicist. His sermons dwelled most frequently on the Word of God. He did not consult Holy Scriptures for proofs: he proceeded from the sacred texts. In Bukharev's 146 apt phrase, for Filaret Biblical texts "were the thoughts of the Living and All-wise God emanating from his unknowableness for our understanding." His thoughts lived in the Biblical element. He pondered aloud while sifting the nuances of a Biblical image or story. Filaret, notes Bukharev, never allowed his theology to become a "legal investigation governed by a dogmatic code of laws," as was usually the case before Filaret's time and as too often recurred during the epoch of the "return to the time of scholasticism."

During his first few years of teaching, Filaret worked out a general plan for a course in theology, A Survey of Theology [Obozrenie bogoslovskikh nauk, 1814]. It was a very characteristic plan, for it was a course in Biblical theology. In Filaret's view, the aim of a theological system was to "link in their proper order" the individual facts and truths of Revelation. A "system" of theology was something fully dependent and derivative. History came before system, for Revelation was given in history and events.

The formalism of the "old Protestant" theological school in which Filaret was raised and educated exercised a strong influence on him, especially in his younger days. He did not at once formally break with the Russian tradition of Prokopovich. A great deal in his definitions and manner of expression was suggested by, or he simply copied from, Protestant books. He refers to such books in his Survey; hence the incompleteness and scholastic imprecision of Filaret's early formulations. He had the habit of referring to Holy Scriptures as "the sole pure and sufficient source of teaching about faith" and added that "to grant the unwritten Word of God equal weight with the written, not only in the functioning of the Church, but in its dogmas is to subject oneself to the danger of destroying God's commandment for the sake of human tradition: ' This was said, of course, in the heat of polemics. But it does seem that if he did not deny it, then Filaret minimized the importance of Tradition in the Church. He shared and reproduced the Protestant idea of the so-called "self-sufficiency" of Holy Scripture. In his early work, An exposition of the differences between the Eastern and Western Churches in the teaching of faith [Izlozhenie raznostei mezhdu Postochnoi i Zapadnoi tserkvi v uchenii very] written in 1811 for the Empress Elizabeth Alekseevna and even in the early editions of the Catechism, Filaret says very little about Tradition or traditions. And in the final redaction of the Catechism during the 1830's, the questions and answers about Tradition were added at the prompting of others.

Yet this was more a fault of the peculiar language of the period than an actual mistake or error. In any case, Filaret never looked upon Scripture abstractly or in isolation. The Bible is given to and is maintained in the Church. The Church gives it to the faithful for reading and guidance. Scripture is written Tradition, and as such it is a witness to the living knowledge and understanding of the Church. Scripture is the record of Tradition, not ordinary traditions of human recollection, but Holy Tradition. To put it another way, it is the sacred memory embodied in writing "for the uninterrupted and uniform preservation of Divine Words."

Scripture, as Filaret explained it, is "only the continuation of Tradition and Tradition's unalterably constructed form." When he spoke of Scripture as the "sole and sufficient" source of teaching about faith, he did not have in mind a book with leather covers, but the Word of God which lives in the Church, and awakens in each living soul that which the Church acknowledges and teaches. Scripture is Tradition. Furthermore, true and holy Tradition is not "simply the visible and verbal tradition of the teachings, canons, ceremonies, and rituals, but it is also the invisible and actual instruction by grace and sanctification." It is the unity of the Holy Spirit, the communion of the sacraments. And for Filaret the main thing was not historical memory, but the uninterrupted flow of Grace. Therefore, only in the Church is authentic tradition possible. Only in the Church does the Grace of the Holy Spirit pour forth revealed truth in an unbroken stream and admonish with it.

Filaret's intense Biblicism was intimately and deeply bound up with his conception of the Church. This was a return to the patristic style and habit in theology. At the same time Filaret emphasized that modern philological studies must provide a precise definition for the "formal meaning" of Scripture. Scripture is the Word of God, not merely the word about God spoken or recorded at one time. It is the efficacious word acting eternally through the ages. It is a certain Divine mystery, the unalterable appearance of grace and power. "Light is concealed in every trace of God's Word, and wisdom is heard in every sound." And Filaret added, "the authenticity of Holy Scripture extends beyond the limits of our reason." It is a kind of Divine treasury: the unceasing, creative, life-giving Word. And the Church is that holy treasury in which this word is preserved. It is a special construction of the Spirit of God.

Authentic and undoubted, Holy Tradition is the indisputable "source" of faith. But the question remains, how does one recognize and discern this "undoubted" tradition? How is the tradition of faith distinguished from the traditions of the schools? It was precisely this question which constantly occupied Filaret's attention. He was reluctant to discuss appeals to tradition, not what constituted Tradition. He protested against the scholastic custom and habit of establishing or proving doctrinal propositions with a simple selection of texts or authoritative testimony. He emphasized that it was impossible to equate any non-Biblical testimony with that of the Bible, and the realm of direct Divine inspiration is precisely described by the boundary of canon. "Is it possible to define precisely that moment when a church writer becomes a saint and is no longer simply a writer subject to the usual human weaknesses?" Filaret did not place limits on the educational authority of the Church. He only limited the authority of the schools.

Historical tradition, in any case, is subject to confirmation, and Filaret had a lively sense of history. It was this sense, which separated him from later scholastics with their logical pedantry and from the mystics such as Speranskii, Labzin, and Skovoroda earlier for whom the Bible became an allegory or a symbol. For Filaret the Bible was always and above all a book of history. It begins with a description of the creation of heaven and earth and concludes with the appearance of a new heaven and earth, "the entire history of the existing world ," Filaret remarked. And this history of the world is the history of God's covenant with man. It is also the history of the Church which begins even earlier. "The history of the Church begins simultaneously with the history of the world. The creation of the world in itself may be seen as a kind of preparation for the creation of the Church because the purpose for which the kingdom of nature was made resides in the kingdom of grace." The world was created for the sake of man, and with the creation of man came the original Church, founded in the very image and likeness of God. Man was introduced into the world of nature as a priest and a prophet, so that the light of Grace would reach out through him to all the created world. In freedom, man was called upon to answer this creative love, "and then the Son of God would reside in men and reign openly and triumphantly throughout the world. Heavenly light and power would pour down ceaselessly on earth until at last the earth was no longer distinct from heaven."

The heavenly Covenant with God was abrogated by the Fall; the original Church was destroyed. Man stifled within himself the eternal life-giving attention of Divine glory, and he likewise blocked the flow of grace to all the world. In the fallen world, however, creative Divine purpose continued to operate. It acts as a promise and a calling. And the created world (submerged beneath the abyss of Divine infinity and hovering above the abyss of personal non-being) preserves the Word of God.

All history is the journey of God toward man and the journey of man toward God. This holy pulse of time and history especially can be felt in the Old Testament. That was a time of messianic expectations and preparations. Mankind awaits and expects the promised Savior, and God equally expects the exercise of human freedom and love. For that reason there is a tension in time: "the created world moves in definite cycles by necessity and cannot be hurried." The Old Testament was a time of prefigurations and premonitions; a time of multiple and multiform Epiphanies, and at the same time it was a returning of the chosen among men to an encounter with the approaching God. "The common ground of Epiphany, especially in its human dimension, is the Incarnation of the Son of God, for the root and foundation of His holy humanity is found in men from the time of the very first progenitors." In this sense, the Old Testament is a genealogy of the Savior.

The image of the Mother of God is sharply and clearly etched in Filaret's theological consciousness. And the Day of Annunciation was for him the most glorious day of all. With the Annunciation in Nazareth the Old Testament ends and the New Testament begins. The tension of expectation is dissolved. Human freedom responds in the Mother of God. "She unreservedly entrusted herself to the desire of the King of Kings, and the marriage of the Divine with mankind was consummated." And in the Birth of Christ the Church, destroyed forever by the disobedience of the earthly Adam, is recreated indestructibly and forever. The Kingdom of Grace is revealed and the Kingdom of Glory is already slightly visible.

In Filaret's view, the Church is the Body of Christ, "the unity of one life" in Him. It is not the union of all under one authority, even under the royal authority of Christ. Moreover, the Church is a continuing Pentecost: a unity in the Spirit of Christ. The sanctifying stream of grace as an unquenchable fount flows to the very threshold of the coming Kingdom of Glory. "When the mysterious body of the last Adam, composed and constituted by Him through the mutual linking of the members by the appropriate actions of each of them, grows in its composition and is perfectly and finally created, then, upheld by His Head, infused with the Holy Spirit, the image of God triumphantly appears in all its members and the great Sabbath of God and man ensues." The circle of time is closed. The Lord Pantocrator is enthroned and the marriage of the Lamb begins.

In his theological speculations Filaret always proceeded from the facts of Revelation and moved among them. He never departed from history in order hurriedly to ascend to "the exalted heights of contemplation" by means of abstract theology. He had no love for "cold philosophy" and was guided in theology not so much by logical conclusions as by historical phenomena. He was always conscious of the Divine Mysteries in their historical manifestations and actions. And all history is revealed before him as a single great unfolding of Divine Love and Divine Glory in the created world. The theme of his theology was always the Covenant of God and man, in all the complexity and multiform character of its historical fate.

Filaret's "system" was not constructed under "influences" and "impressions," for its inner structure is patristic (compare it especially with Gregory of Nyssa). He dwelled with particular attention on two themes: first, the mystery of the Cross, the mystery of Redemption. And second, the description of the life of Grace, the life in the Spirit Christ revealed to the faithful. Christ is the mysterious First Priest who is offered and who brings the offering. He is the Lamb of God and the Great Hierarch (see the Epistle to the Hebrews). It was the Cross of Golgotha he saw in the Gospels. It was the passion of the Savior he saw in the God-man. "The fate of the world is suspended from His cross, the life of the world lies in His grave. The Cross illuminates the weeping land of life; the sun of blessed immortality streams forth from His grave." The mystery of the Cross is the mystery of Divine Love. "Thus in the spiritual realm of mystery, along the entire dimensions of the Cross of Christ, contemplation is overwhelmed in the limitless love of God." On Good Friday Filaret once preached on the passage "And God so loved the world." He urged that the ultimate meaning of the Cross be grasped. "Behold! . . . There is nothing except the holy and blessed Love of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit toward a sinful and despairing mankind. The Love of the Father in the act of crucifying; the Love of the Son who is crucified; the Love of the Spirit which triumphs by the power of the Cross."

Filaret was completely free of any sentimental or moralistic misinterpretations of the love of the Cross. On the contrary, he emphasized that the Cross of Christ is rooted in the inscrutableness of Divine benevolence. The mystery of the Cross begins in eternity "in the sanctuary of the Tri-hypostatic Godhead which is inaccessible to the created world. Thus, Christ is spoken of in Scriptures as the Lamb of God, forewarned or even crucified from the time of the world's creation. "The death of Christ is the center of created being. The Cross of Jesus, built by the animosity of the Jews and the bloodthirstiness of the pagans, is the earthly image and shadow of this heavenly Cross of love." In his sermons, especially on days recalling the Passion, Filaret ascended to the heights of lyrical prayer; a trembling of the heart can be heard in these addresses. His sermons are impossible to paraphrase; it is only possible to reread and repeat them. We find no integrated system in Filaret, for he always spoke "on occasion." We do find something greater: a unity of living experience, a depth of intellectual conception, "a mysterious visitation of the Spirit." And this is the clue or explanation for his influence on theology. He had practically no direct disciples, nor did he create a school; he created something more important: a spiritual movement. Filaret was always reserved in his theological judgments and he urged others to exercise the same responsible caution. This unremitting sense of responsibility, in which pastoral and theological motives were intertwined, was always at work on him and gave him a stern countenance. It was rightly said that "he was a bishop from morning to night and from night to morning." This was a source of his caution. But he had another motive as well, an instinctive need to justify his every conclusion. It is precisely this need which explains all of his reservations. "Each theological thought must be accepted only in the measure of its strength." Filaret always opposed the transformation of private opinions into required ones which might restrict rather than guide perceptive and searching thought. That is why he was such an unpleasant and impatient censor and editor. His report on Innokentii's Passion Week [Strastnaia Sed initsa] is characteristic: "I wish that calm reason might accompany the labor of a lively and powerful imagination and cleanse this book." Filaret did not reject "imagination," but he subjected it to strict verification, and not so much verification by reason as by the testimony of Revelation.

Not much may be expected by relying on one's own philosophical reasoning for those subjects not found in life on earth. It is more fitting to follow Divine Revelation and the explanations of it given by people who have prayed, labored, cleansed their inner and outer lives more than we. The image of God is more apparent and the sight is clearer in those whose spirits here on earth border more closely on heaven than our own.

Obviously, Filaret was not so preoccupied with authority as with inner reliability.

Filaret appeared too pliable or excessively timid to others in direct proportion to his own demands and caution. Some accused Filaret of "Jacobinism in theology" 147 because he always demanded "proofs" and very cautiously distinguished between "opinion" and "definition." "The people did not love him and called him a Mason" (Herzen). Others considered him a dark reactionary and (strangely enough) preferred Count Pratasov 148 (this applies not only to Nikanor Brovkovich 149 but also to Rostislavov). 150 Still others were confused because Filaret would not condemn the Latin faith as heresy or even as a schism, but instead he argued that it was only an "opinion" and not a ruling of the Church. In particular he tried to guard against exaggeration: "Placing the Papal Church on the same level as the Armenian Church is cruel and useless." He seemed too cautious when he argued that the Eastern Church "does not possess an autocratic interpreter of its teachings who might give the weight of dogma to his explanations." It seemed that he left too much to the "individual judgment and conscience" of the faithful, even though it was "assisted by the teachers of the Church and was under the guidance of the Word of God."

Some could not find adequate words to describe Filaret's oppressive tyrannical character. In this connection, the hostile autobiographical "notes" of the historian S. M. Solov'ev 151 were especially typical. In Solov'ev's description, Filaret was a sort of evil genius, who smothered the least inkling of creativity and independence in his subordinates. Solov'ev insisted that Filaret destroyed any creative spirit in the Moscow Theological Academy. Something must be said about this later. Here it is enough to note that Solov'ev's calumny can be countered by considerable contrary evidence. One example, which is supplied by a person whom it is difficult to suspect of partiality toward Filaret, must be enough. This was the statement of G. Z. Eliseev, the famous radical and editor of Notes of the Fatherland [Zapiski otechestva].152 He was a student in the Moscow Academy at the beginning of the 1840's and then a baccalaureate and professor in Kazan'. In Eliseev's estimation, there was too much freedom and an exceptional environment of heartfelt warmth, softness, and camaraderie at the Moscow Academy.

Solov'ev was shortsighted and partial in his judgments. He was not able, nor did he wish, to find any redeeming qualities in those who did not agree with him. He was particularly irritated by people of a "restless mind," who offended his cozy night-Hegelian worldview. Filaret was not the only one whom Solov'ev condemned in this fashion. He found only harsh and foul words for Khomiakov. 153 But Solov'ev was unfair to Filaret even as an historian. He could not and would not understand that Filaret's outward severity sprang from grief and anxiety. "This man has a hot head and a cold heart." This characterization is a deceptive half truth. It is true that Filaret's mind was fervent and hot, and restless thoughts left a deep impress on his withered face. But it is simply nonsense and a lie that Filaret's heart was cold. It flowed sensitively and impressionistically. And it burned in an uncanny and terrible anxiety. His obvious achievements and obvious integrity could conceal this grief and anxiety, this inner suffering, only from a shortsighted observer. Filaret's difficult and courageous silence hardly concealed or quieted his uneasiness about what was happening in Russia. "It seems that we no longer live even in the suburbs of Babylon, but in Babylon itself," he declared one day.

Khomiakov once noted that Filaret was compelled to travel by "devious routes" in order not to provide a pretext for being attacked. "Submission required detours, while his exactness perhaps made it less likely that they would be on the watch and inflict an unexpected blow," wrote another contemporary. Filaret once wrote to Grigorii [Postnikov] : "It is a great misfortune if those against whom they seek an opportunity to attack provide that opportunity. . . ."

Filaret did not like easy and safe paths, for he did not believe that easy paths could lead to truth — the narrow path could hardly turn out to be an easy one. "I fear only that joy on earth which thinks it has nothing to fear. . . ."

Theology in the Reformed Ecclesiastical Schools.

Filaret was one of the most influential and prominent representatives of the new "theology of the heart" taught in the reformed ecclesiastical schools. The aim of this instruction was "the education of the inner man," by imparting a living and well-founded personal conviction in the saving truths of faith. "The inner education of youths for an active Christianity will be the sole aim of these schools" (Ukaz of 30 August 1814). One might recall Neander's 154 aphorism which was so popular in those days: pectus est quod facit theologum, "the heart makes the theologian.'' However, in the Russian schools this theology of the "heart" was not the only current. We can detect and distinguish two divergent tendencies from the outset. One was the "theology of the heart." The other it was usual at that time to call "neologism," a moral-rationalistic school of Christian interpretation Neologism was introduced by Ignatius Fessler 155 in the St. Petersburg Theological Academy.

In 1819, Filaret was replaced as rector by Grigorii Postnikov a student of the first graduating class at the new academy. (Subsequently he became metropolitan of Novgorod; he died in 1860). Grigorii was a continuator, follower, admirer, and even friend of Filaret of Moscow. Although he was a man of very alert and clear thought, he possessed no inner animation. He had none of Filaret's restless searching mind, nor did any of that dizzying panorama, before which Filaret was so accustomed to live, ever unfold before him. One never feels a tension even in Grigorii's sermons. Everything was limpid, his voice was even and calm. He disliked dogmatic themes and preferred action. His moralism was very measured and annoying, although it is impossible not to feel his great moral strength. "Simplicity, dignity, and truthfulness," reports Fotii, who did not like him. Grigorii's character was reflected in his language. There are no rhetorical devices, no ornamentation, only a certain heaviness, coarseness, and plainness. Grigorii, especially in his later years, did not like to write "for the people." Still, one always senses the influence of those often read and reread English instructional books and brochures from the beginning of the century. His thought was formed and disciplined in the reading of foreign authors, especially English ones, and it seems that at one time Grigorii studied English with the students.

He was a great bibliophile and stimulated reading among the students. He regularly offered the students money for translations, in order to compel them to read. As a teacher and lecturer, Grigorii was very popular and well liked. He taught in Russian, and in his lectures he investigated Holy Scriptures in Russian translation, not Slavonic. In general he was a zealous defender of the Bible in Russian until the end of his days. He gave preference in the Old Testament to "Hebrew truth," underscoring the fact that it was hardly possible to construct with precision an exact translation of the Septuagint from its varied renderings. But he approached the Massoretic punctuation critically and with reserve.

In 1822, Grigorii ,published several chapters of his theology course. They were examined, approved, and, of course, corrected by Filaret. There is very little that is original in them. But what was important was the very lively voice and manner of the author. Much later Grigorii wrote his famous book against the schismatics or Old Believers, The truly ancient, truly Orthodox Church [Istinno-drevniaia i istinno-pravoslavnaia Tserkov', 1855] . Again, it contains very little that is new, yet the elevated, calm, benevolent tone is arresting. The author was truly attempting to persuade and convince. Tolerantly and cautiously, he tried to succeed "through the word of truth." Grigorii was a sincere defender of religious independence and a zealot for education. He possessed a genuine pastoral interest and persistence.

Metropohtan Grigorii's special service at the St. Petersburg

Theological Academy was the founding of a journal with the characteristic title Christian Reading [Khristianskoe Chtenie] . It began in 1821. 'The first aim of the journal was to provide instructional reading — Russian reading — for all bibliophiles and churchmen. The Biblical tendency was clearly indicated by the choice of epigraph; "built upon the foundation of the apostles and the prophets" (Ephesians 2:20). In any case, subsequently, during the "return to the time of scholasticism," this approach seemed pretentious and dangerous. Because it was a danger, it was replaced by another epigraph. After 1842, I Timothy 3:15 was used in its place: "you may know how one ought to behave in the household of God, which is the church of the living God, the pillar and bulwark of the truth." Subsequently both epigraphs were combined.

In its first year, Christian Reading was reminiscent of the Messenger of Zion [Sionskii Vestnik] both in the selection and character of its articles. A special section was included as a "mystical chronicle."

In our Fatherland only very rarely do the beneficient actions of the Holy Spirit on men's hearts become known. Therefore all lovers of Christianity, especially people of the religious calling, are invited to report on these actions to the editors in order that they might be shared as manifestations of the glory of God.

News about spiritual signs and miracles was even taken from foreign publications. After 1825, however, the format of this journal became more cautious and more translations were provided from the Fathers. From the outset of publication, Christian Reading enjoyed an unexpected success, with 2,400 subscribers in the first faw years.

Kirill Bogoslovskii-Platonov 156 followed Grigorii's example at the Moscow Theological Academy. He taught in Russian, disliked modern philosophy, and read books in an ascetic spirit.

The quality of Gospel teaching consists in quieting hearts stricken with grief and fear of heavenly judgment; it consists in looking into the depths of one's spiritual condition. But how can one who has not experienced this love of the Cross, whose heart is not filled with that grief for God which leads to salvation, achieve or explain this power and soothing quality of the Gospel?

During Kirill's tenure as rector of the Moscow academy, each student was obliged to keep a personal journal of his activities and thoughts. Kirill was close to the disciples of the Moldavian Elders. 157 While archbishop of Podolia, he became interested in the Baltic priest Father Feodosii Levitskii, 158 arid in his reports portrayed him with complete sympathy and approval as a truly spiritual man. He climaxed his course at the academy with a treatise on the traditions of the Church.

At the Kievan academy the representatives of the new theology were Moisei Antipov-Platonov, who died in his office as Exarch of Georgia in 1834, and Meletii Leontovich, later archbishop of Kharkov (he died in 1840). 159 taught in Russian, and both belonged to the first graduating class of the St. Petersburg Academy. Several others among the brightest in this first class still must be mentioned. V. I. Kutnevich was sent at once as baccalaureate of philosophy to the Moscow Academy, where he immediately found a student and successor in Golubinskii. Kutnevich soon left the service of the academy and subsequently became the Grand Chaplain [ober sviashchennik] and a member of the Synod. He died in 1865. He expended great effort on translations from the Greek Fathers. Aleksei Malov (d. 1855), the archpriest of St. Isaac's Cathedral and priest in the Invalid Home (Invalidnyi dom], was praised as an outstanding and powerful preacher. He was a typical seeker of "spiritual" and "universal Christianity." During his meeting with William Palmer, 160 the latter was greatly confused by Aleksei's amorphous views on the structure and limits of the Church. In his day, Father Malov had been a participant in the "spiritual" gatherings of Madame Tatarinova, and, it seems, he was the confessor for several members of this circle. 161

Among the other early graduates of the St. Petersburg Academy, the most inspired exponent and preacher of these new moods was Makarii Glukharev (1792-1847), one of the most remarkable men of that era. While at the academy, Glukharev was completely under Filaret's influence. "He gave up his will to Rector Filaret, and did nothing or undertook nothing without his advice and blessing. Nearly every day he confessed his thoughts to him." The spiritual tie between teacher and student lasted his lifetime. Glukharev was exclusively impressionistic and introspective. It was difficult for him to work under ordinary conditions. At the academy he read many mystical books — Johann Arndt above all. 162 He adopted from such books the idea of a renaissance and renovation of the inner man who is illuminated by the Holy Spirit. Once he attended a gathering at Madame Tatarinova's apartment, but he ran away frightened. Upon finishing the academy, he went to Ekaterinoslavl as a teacher. There he became acquainted with the local bishop, Iov Potemkin, 163 who had been tonsured by the Moldavian Elders. Through Iov, he became close to two monks from Moldavia, Father Liverii and Father Kalinnik, under whose influence Glukharev decided to become a monk. During this phase of his life, he was entirely consumed by a restless searching. Soon he was transferred as rector to the Kostroma Seminary, but he suffered not only as an administrator, but also as a teacher. At the earliest opportunity Makarii quit and went to live first at the Monastery of the Caves and then at the Glinskii Monastery, which at that time was a center of a contemplative renaissance. He read a good deal there under the direction of the Elder [Starets] Filaret, 164 and translated St. Augustine's Confessions, the Ladder [of St. John Climacus], the discourses of St. Gregory the Great, and the declamatory sermons of St. Theodore the Studite. "The school of Christ is one of those bright points on the globe which may be reached only by placing oneself on the level of Christ's infancy." He translated St. Macarius as well as the works of Teresa of Spain from the French. He intended to translate Pascal. 165

Makarii always maintained an inquisitive and favorable attitude toward the beliefs of others. In Ekaterinoslavl' he prayed with the "Spiritual Children" (the Molokans), and found that the light of God's illumination glowed in their warm faith. The Quakers Grellet and Allen, while traveling in Russia in 1819, 166 visited Ekaterinoslavl' with a letter of introduction from Filaret, and found in him a mutual spiritual bond. Later in life, Makarii dreamed of constructing in Moscow a cathedral with three wings — for Orthodox, Catholics, and Protestants. Makarii did not remain long in monastic isolation before he began to thirst for some work. He found it in preaching among the Siberian tribes. He also found himself. Filaret of Moscow called him a "Romantic missionary," and, in fact, Makarii took to missionary work enthusiastically and with great animation. As a first step, he acquired two Tobolsk seminarians as assistants and composed a model instruction for the first missionary outpost:

We desire that all will be in common among us: money, food, clothes, books, and other things; such measures will aid our efforts toward one accord.

The mission worked under conditions of extreme hardship and poverty. The mission was a true apostolic labor for Makarii. He gave himself up to it with all the intensity of his soul. A less dedicated missionary might attest that "this flame did not burn for Christianity." Makarii's reply to such doubt was decisive: "Who in my position can judge the immaturity of these people for the universal faith in Jesus Christ? He shed His Immaculate Blood on the Cross and tasted death for the salvation of all men." . . . "There is no people whom the Lord would not know as His own, no depth of ignorance and darkness into which the Son of God, having bowed heaven down, would not descend, into which He Himself would not bend down." Makarii sets forth his general views in a special work: Thoughts on the means for a successful extension of the Christian faith among the Jews, Mohammedans, and pagans in the Russian Empire [Mysli o sposobakh k uspeshneishemu rasprostraneniia khristianskoi very mezhdu Evreiami, Magometanami, i iazychnikami v Rossiiskoi derzhave, 1839] . Makarii proposed to form a missionary center in Kazan', a special missionary-institute monastery, governed by a strict communal statute, yet including a sufficiently variegated educational program in both its general curriculum and theology. He wished to acquaint his colleagues with the system of Lancastrian schools, the fundamentals of medicine, and the basics of agriculture. Obviously contemplative dreaminess did not kill Makarii's sense of realism. The Altaic mission under his guidance is one of the most heroic and saintly episodes in our history.

A new idea was born during Makarii's apostolic labors, and it became an all-consuming passion. It was a plan to translate the Bible. As early as 1834, Makarii presented to the Synod through Metropolitan Filaret a note entitled On the necessity for the Russian Church of a translation of the entire Bible from the original texts into contemporary Russian language [O potrebnosti dlia Rossiiskoi tserkvi prelozheniia vsei Biblii s original nykh tektsov na sovremennyi russkii iazyk]. Filaret concealed this letter in order to protect the "Romantic missionary" from the wrath and punishment of the higher authorities who considered beneficial the translation of the Scriptures into the languages of half civilized and completely uncivilized peoples, but not into Russian.

Makarii neither heard nor understood the arguments. In 1837, he presented to the Commission on Ecclesiastical Schools the first part of his own translation, the Book of Job, along with a letter addressed to the Emperor. Again the matter remained without result. In 1839, Makarii presented the Emperor with a translation of the Book of Isaiah and a new letter. The following year he resubmitted the two books for examination and comparison with Pavskii's translation. the existence of which Makarii had not known earlier. At that point Makarii moved from arguments and persuasion to threats and dire prophecies. Earlier he had expounded on the necessity and usefulness of the Word of God in a living language. "The Russian people are worthy of possessing a complete Russian Bible." Makarii bemoaned the fact that "Russians remain indifferently without a complete Russian Bible, while at the same time they possess a full Russian translation of the Koran." He was convinced the time was ripe "to create from the purest, most valuable materials of the Russian language a literary cathedral of the Wisdom of God written with such simplicity, correctness, and exactness that it will be the most beautiful in the world, the true glory of our Orthodox Church before the peoples of all churches, and the joy of heaven."

Now Makarii grieved and threatened, "O, sorrow! The Royal Doors are shut through which the Evangelists one after another came to us from the sanctuary, and each with his Gospel blessed the Russian Church in the name of Jesus Christ. Now everything is concealed and dark. . . . We learn that all of the Pentateuch of Moses was already translated into pure Russian from the Hebrew and printed in abundant copies, and has lain for many years in some empty warehouse — that holy and awesome book of the Law of God, which lay in the ark of Noah's covenant, in the holy of holies, and which was read aloud before the Israelites, not excluding women, children, and strangers. Will the Word of God in the raiment of Slavonic letters cease to be God's Word if it is in Russian raiment?"

With simple naivete Makarii was touching on the sorest and most painful points. He even enumerated the signs of God's wrath: the flood of 1824, the uprising of 1825, the cholera of 1830, the fire in the Winter Palace. . . .167 This time he was given an answer. By an ukaz, the Synod explained to Makarii how egotistically and pretentiously he portrayed himself as a "self-appointed exegete of Divine Judgment," and .how audaciously "he has exceeded the limits of his calling and his duties." Therefore, he was commanded to undergo a "penance of prayer" at the residence of the bishop of Tomsk. Filaret of Chernigov 168 writes about this penance: "they compelled him to conduct the liturgy for six weeks in succession, but he understood this as God's mercy and was very well pleased with the penance." Undoubtedly, he misunderstood why in St. Petersburg daily conduct of the liturgy was considered a punishment for a priest. In Makarii's service record it was noted that "he carried through a forty day purification penance before presenting the government his thoughts and desires for a complete Russian Bible translated from the originals." Soon afterward Makarii requested his release from the mission. He was appointed superior of the Bolkhovskii Monastery in the Orlov province, where he was able to recover heart, although he stayed there only a short while. He did not cease translating.

He began to dream of going to the Holy Land, and settling, if possible, in the Bethlehem cave of Jerome 169 in order to finish and perfect his translation of the Old Testament. It was said that he planned to visit Leipzig on the way and arrange for printing. Not without difficulty did he receive permission for the journey. But on the very eve of his departure he fell ill and died.

Makarii was a man of saintly uprightness and purity. "An actual living Gospel," Archbishop Smaragd 170 said of him. He interwove the best traditions of contemplative monasticism, his own personal experience, and the Biblical lessons of the schools. Makarii was a man of great knowledge and an outstanding Hebraist. In his work on the Bible he usually followed most closely the work of Rosenmueller, 171 without, however, being captivated by the latter's skepticism. And at the same time he was a man of spiritual simplicity and transparent soul. "Makarii was a true servant of Christ God," Filaret of Moscow wrote after Makarii's death in 1847. "And of course it is remarkable that during a time of peace he prophesized that there would be sorrow for neglecting the extension of God's Word; that sorrow later came to pass."

The isolated position of the Moscow Theological Academy in its wooded retreat or, more accurately, backwater in the St. Sergius suburb at the Holy Trinity Lavra decisively contributed to the fact that in this academy the guiding moods of the new era took flesh. Of course the preparations and habits of Metropolitan Platon's time were conducive. In his memoirs, Rostislavov 172 accuses Filaret for attempting to transform the St. Petersburg Academy into a kind of "semihermitage." The Moscow Academy actually became such a "semi-hermitage," a kind of learned monastery "of the heart." A common style took shape there which is easy to distinguish in everything. For example, take the lists of books given to the students for rewards or encouragement: even in 1833 these were the French Bible in the translation of De Sacy, the works of Fenelon or Francis de Sales, or even John Mason. 173 Or take the themes for semester compositions: "On the yearning of creatures [tvari] "; "On the lack of differentiation of religious confessions; or is it possible to be saved in any faith?"; "On the inner and outer Church" (Themes for 1826). "On the conditions of the so-called spiritual dehydration, or on the periodic impoverishment of the spiritual man in beneficient consolations"; "Why there were more possessed people during the lifetime of Christ and the Apostles than either before or since" (Themes for 1832).

In Moral Theology for 1817-1818 a young baccalaureate recommended not only that the students read Macarius of Egypt and St. Augustine, but also Arndt, Thomas a Kempis, Hornbeck, and even the anonymous History of those regenerated [Istoriia vozrozhdennykh].174 He taught from Buddeus' textbooks. In 1820 and 1821, the students translated Joachim Lange's Mysterium Christi et christianismi. 175 Of course the most characteristic teacher of the period was Fedor Golubinskii, 176 a graduate of the first class after the reform of the schools. He was a typical representative of the epoch.

Among the representatives of the older generation who studied in the pre-reform schools but who belonged to this "theology of the heart" were Metropolitan Mikhail, Archimandrite Evgraf (Filaret's teacher), and Innokentii Smirnov. 177 Innokentii enters the history of Russian theology as the composer of An Outline of Church-Biblical History [Nachertaniia tserkovno-bibleiskoi istorii, 1816-1818]. The book was hastily written, and its author is not at fault if after his death it was forcibly retained in the schools as a textbook even until the 1860's when it was clearly out of date, inadequate, and unsuitable. (The posthumous editions were reworked by Archdeacon Kochetov). O The History, compiled from Weismann, Spanheim, Baronius and the Magdeburg Centuries, 179 was very dry, factual, and formal. Surmounting the scholastic routine was not easy even for such a lively person as Innokentii. At the St. Petersburg Seminary, where he was rector, Innokentii taught in Latin (after his death, his notes on active theology [deiatel noe bogoslovie] based on his Latin outlines were published in Russian translation).

Such a combination of "piety of the heart" and scholastic "erudition" is found among many of this older generation. The best example was Filaret Amfiteatrov, subsequently the well-known metropolitan of Kiev (1779-1857).180 He was a man of warm piety, a large heart, and a true spiritual life; an upright and saintly man. But in his teaching he remained an uncompromising proponent of the scholastic past. He taught, but not for long, in the reformed schools, first in St. Petersburg and then in Moscow (as inspector and rector). He always taught in Latin. He was emphatically against teaching theology in Russian. He followed Irinei Fal'kovskii 181 in his lecture plan, and in his explanation of Scripture 'he was guided most of all by the exegesis of Vitringa. 182 His audience noted the thorough precision in his exposition, a "mathematical precision," and deft argumentation. But at the same time these were more like sermons than lectures in the strict sense, "something in the way of an announcement of good tidings."

Filaret was hostile to the "mystical" current. "During my professorate at the Moscow Academy there was a general trend toward mysticism and I, with all my might, combatted it." He was even less reconciled to philosophy. "Not only were philosophical formulas foreign to him, but so were the very names of Spinoza or Hegel." Even Filaret of Moscow, whom he dearly loved, seemed to him too learned and wise: did such a thing correspond to monastic vows and humility? In his early years Filaret Amfiteatrov participated in the Bible Society, and even in 1842 supported Filaret of Moscow and was compelled to leave the Synod at the same time. Still later he became much more cautious and began to protest sharply against the renewal of Russian Biblical translations.

There were many dedicated people in the ranks of the older generation. One example was the influential and well-known Muscovite Father Semen Sokolov. "He was famous in Moscow as a strict and instructive confessor, as a cautious guide for those confused by doubts and rumors in days of sorrow and temptation, and as a profound and spiritually impregnated mystic" as it was phrased by one of those whom he confessed (N.V. Sushkov in his notes on Filaret). He studied at the Holy Trinity Lavra seminary and was connected with the members of the "Society of Friends." He had a long life (1772-1860). For the education of his "spiritual children" he translated and published (in 1834) Thomas a Kempis' famous book with an appended instruction about how such books should be read. In later Years he loved to read and reread the Messenger of Zion [Sionskii Vestnlk], and he did not prohibit the reading of Eckartshausen. Such was the power of "Europeanization" in post-Petrine Russia that it was possible to return to the traditions of spiritual life only along a western route and by western example. Arndt was known earlier than the Philokalia. 183 And for many Arndt remained a long while their first love in illumination. True, very early the reading of the Greek Fathers, and the Father-ascetics in particular, were added. But only with the establishment of contemplative monasteries in Russia, with their living return to the Orthodox traditions of spiritual life, did the wave of western mystical enthusiasms begin to subside.

In the ecclesiastical schools the influence of the Alexandrine epoch was long and lasting. In those circumstances of theological "sensitivity" the characters of men such as Filaret Gumilevskii or A. V. Gorskii 184 might flow together. Only by reference to the spirit of the Alexandrine age is it possible to understand the tragic fate of Archimandrite Fedor Bukharev. . . , 185

The Moral-Rationalistic School.

Another clearly defined and directly counter movement may be distinguished from the very outset in the reformed schools. Undoubtedly its best representative was Father Gerasim Pavskii (1787-1863), a graduate of the first class of the reformed St. Petersburg Academy, a remarkable Hebraist, a long time professor of Hebrew at the academy, and a doctor of theology at St. Petersburg University. He was also court chaplain, confessor, and tutor to the Tsarevich, the future Alexander II.186 Above all, Pavskii was a philologist — a man with a real philological gift and artistic flair. With all the ardor of scholarly passion he adored the Hebrew Bible. He studied Semitic philology prior to the printing of Gesenius' grammar, 187 and his intellectual outlook was formed under the influence of eighteenth century authorities. During his first years as a teacher at the academy, Pavskii composed and printed his own Hebrew grammar. However, the Hebrew and Chaldean dictionary of the Old Testament which he also compiled in those same years was not published.

Pavskii soon joined the Bible Society and was greatly enthusiastic about the translation. "It was not the language which was important for me," he later stated, "but rather the pure Holy Scriptures undistorted by commentaries. I wished to achieve a true exegesis of Holy Scripture by language alone. A true understanding of Hebrew leads to an understanding of theology." For the Bible Society he translated the Psalter (he wrote his own classroom text on the Psalms) and supervised the printing of the Pentateuch. Even after the Bible Society was closed he continued to translate: this work constituted his students' lessons at the academy. After Pavskii left the academy, the students lithographed his translation on their own initiative. It immediately enjoyed wide circulation in the ecclesiastical school milieu. The appearance of this "secret" translation aroused fears, especially among Synodal authorities. The translation was suppressed, the copies sought out and collected (this was in 1824).

There were grounds for such fears and accusations. Translation of the Bible could not long remain merely a literary exercise, and for Pavskii it was not such an exercise. Translation is always interpretanon. The lithographed translation was divided into sections with chapter headings and explanations, and with introductory and explanatory notes. In doing so, Pavskii most closely followed Rosenmueller. Pavskii left the impression that he accepted messianic prophecy in a very limited way and doubted the authenticity of various books and texts. There is no use to argue now: those were Pavskii's actual views, although he completely disavowed them under investigation. This liberal and critical approach to the Old Testament corresponded to his general religious outlook. Pavskii was neither a philosopher nor a thinker, but he had very definite religious-philosophical convictions. At the university he first lectured on "the history of the development of religious ideas in human society." Under Runich 188 this was replaced by the instruction in Church history in conformity with Innokentii's textbook. Pavskii recommended Draeseke's Glaube, Liebe und Hoffnung 189 as a hand-book for students. Subsequentiy, he wrote Christian teaching in a brief system [Khristianskoe uchenie v kratkoi sisteme].

Pavskii professed a highly personal and undefined religious moralistic idealism. Religion is the feeling by which man's spirit inwardly embraces and is blessed by the Invisible, Eternal, and Holy. The study of religion is designed only to awaken, enliven, and nourish this holy feeling, so that it might strengthen, enlighten, and enflame the inner man, and give of itself the strength, light, and life to the entire man, his complete understanding, his thoughts, desires and acts.

Thus, positive religion is simply a kind of transfer of this innate feeling into a very clever but inadequate rational element. Ritual and even dogmas are only an outer shell, only a "hint," and the dogmas of reason might even suppress or drown this immediate "holy feeling." In Pavskii's understanding, religion approaches morality. And Christ for him was barely more than the Teacher. Pavskii limited the "substance" of Christianity by the direct testimony of Scripture.

I thank God that the Church in which I was born and educated does not compel me to believe in something without proof. It permits me to delve into the pure and holy Word of God, and if it prescribes a thing it always indicates the basis for its prescription in the Word of God and the common voice of the enlightened teachers of the Church.

The Church embraces all confessions in so far as they contain the "true essence" of dogmas. Palmer was very surprised when he heard of it Pavskii was very open in his conversation with Palmer. The priest is in no way distinguishable from the pastor, and thus, for example, "succession" was unbroken among the Lutherans.

The Christian Church is merely the shadow of Christ's invisible and unobtainable kingdom. Among the Christian churches the one which most purely expresses the idea of Christ's kingdom is nearest to perfection. Each visible church must understand that it is only on the way to perfection complete perfection is still far distant in the invisible church, in the kingdom of heaven."

It should also be noted that Pavskii spoke with considerable heat against monasticism. "Church history has convinced me that monasticism is unclean and contrary to the law of nature. Consequently; it is contrary to the law of God." Pavskii was a prominent worker and one of the "directors" in the Bible Society, yet he was always hostile to what he called the "crooked roads" of mysticism. Peter Bartenev 190 rightly noted that Pavskii was "a spokesman for a vague, evasive, vascillating piety," and in this respect he was quite typical. Pavskii was completely suited to Zhukovskii and General Merder, 191 at whose suggestion Pavskii was invited to be the religion tutor to the Tsarevich (in 1835 he was compelled to leave this post under pressure primarily from Filaret, who found his theological views quite erroneous). This was the sharpest form of westernism not just in theology but in spiritual self awareness: a psychological inclusion in the German tradition. This was particularly true at the St. Petersburg Academy where true monastic life never exerted a necessary corrective. Pavskii was an outstanding philologist, and from the philological point of view his translation was very valuable. He was able to convey the very style and literary manner of the holy writers and the prosodic structure of the Biblical language. The translator's repertoire of Russian words was quite rich and fresh. Pavskii was also a gifted teacher, and imparted a good deal to his audience. However, he had few direct disciples. Only S.K. Sabinin (1789-1863), a priest with the diplomatic mission in Copenhagen and then in Weimar, did any independent work. By way of preparation Sabinin wrote on how to understand the meaning in "The Song of Songs." He then worked on the "Book of Isaiah." In Christian Reading he published a series of exegetical essays mostly dealing with the "Book of Prophets." After Pavskii's translation was suppressed, Sabinin turned to Scandinavian themes. He published a grammar of Icelandic. For him philological intersts were uppermost, just as they were for Pavskii.

In another way, Innokentii Borisov (1800-1855) also belonged to this same "German" current in Russian theology. He was a graduate of the first course at the Kievan Academy, inspector of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy, rector of the Kievan Academy, and finally archbishop of Kherson and Taurida. In his day, Innokentii was repeatedly suspected and accused of "neology." An "unofficial inquest" was made into his manner of thought. There were some grounds for one. Innokentii was interested in philosophy most of all. But he was not a thinker. He had a sharp and impressionistic mind, not a creative one. Nor was he a scholar. He was able to phrase questions in an enticing way, and lay bare inquiry at an unexpected point; he could seize his audience's or his reader's attention and transmit the answers of others with great verve and enthusiasm. Only a brilliant delivery masked the persistent lack of creative independence. But it was always delivery and not erudition. As Filaret of Moscow said about Innokentii: he lacks judgment, but he has too much imagination. In fact, Innokentii was an orator, and "eloquence" is the key to his influence and success both in the professor's chair and in the preacher's ambo.

In his theology lectures Innokentii was not independent, but lectured on dogmatics by adhering to the "system" of Dobmayer, 192 as did his theology teacher Archimandrite Moisei. At the time this "system" was used in the Austrian Catholic schools. This was all very characteristic of this "transitional" epoch — from the Enlightenment to Romanticism, from Lessing, Herder, and Kant to Schelling or even Baader. The fundamental and controlling concept of this "system" is the idea of the Kingdom of God humanistically explained as a "moral communion." The influence of the Enlightenment was ubiquitous and Christianity was depicted as a school of natural morality and blessedness [blazhenstvo]. Christology remained pale and ambiguous. All of these traits can be found in Innokentii. Characteristically, the theme of his senior thesis was "On the moral character of Jesus Christ." Innokentii's famous book The Last Days of Jesus Christ's Earthly Life [Poslednie dni zemnoi zhizni Iisusa Khrista, 1847] is only remarkable for its literary qualities. It was literature, not theology. Innokentii did not exceed the boundaries of rhetorical and sentimental humanism. In place of theology he always offered psychology; in place of history he offered rhetorics. Innokentii never sounded the true depths of spiritual life. He was eclectic. There were still many elements of the Enlightenment in his outlook, yet he was powerfully attracted by Alexandrine mysticism. In his lectures he often dwelled on the pietist tradition and with great sympathy referred to Fenelon, Guyon, Jung-Stilling, and Eckartshausen, "who had done so much that was useful." Innokentii often spoke on Schubert 193 themes: dreams and death. Of course he spoke about The Seer of Prevorst. 194 He skirted the cosmological motifs in theology. "All nature is a portrait of the Most High, perfect and complete." An echo of mystical natural philosophy can be detected in that statement.

Innokentii is still interesting to read. Naturally, it would be more interesting to hear him. Several passages in Bishop Innokentii's lectures were calculated solely for the effect they might have on the audience and not for their effect on paper; he was a cascading fireworks of talent which one can only view unsteadily from a distance, for, in approaching him in earnest, one receives the unpleasant smell of smoke rather than the pleasant impression of light playfulness. (P.V. Znamenskii) 195 Every attempt to imitate or follow Innokentii seemed false. He neither had, nor could have had, successors, although there were unsuccessful mimics. Innokentii had a real dramatic gift. Filaret of Kiev said it was "religious demagoguery." Innokentii was able to sway even such a "hardened spirit" as Rostislavov, as well as religious dreamers and seekers of speculative revelations. Innokentii's listeners saw a stern and impressive theological truth in him, dressed in a sparkling attire they never imagined, for they were so accustomed to a scholastic delivery. It was not so much the power of his thought but his "lively imagination" that was striking: "The power of the mind was released in a wealth of images." Innokentii's daring was largely irresponsible speculation and superficiality. "No matter how dear it was to the famous hierarch, the cast of his mind and the quality of his abilities did not and could not produce a new epoch in theology. Art, the fine art of the human word — that was his calling." This was written about Innokentii by Makarii Bulgakov 196 in a solemn obituary for the Proceedings [Otchety] of the Academy of Sciences. Makarii added: "One does not encounter Christian profundity and theological erudition." Strangely enough, Innokentii exaggeratedly praised Makarii's dogmatic theology and his belated effort to return to the scholastic manner with its oddly inert rational thought and lack of curiosity.

When in the 1840's the thought arose to replace Filaret's Catechism with another more ecclesiastical one (that is, a more Roman Catholic one), Innokentii was the first person to come to mind. His old teacher, Archdeacon Skvortsov, 197 put it to him this way: "If you are of a like mind with several of us, then what we need is not a broad knowledge of philosophy, we need only revealed theology [bogoslovie otkrovennoe]." In his younger days Innokentii had been reprimanded precisely because he discussed philosophical formulas rather than positive theology under the rubric of dogmatics. He entranced his audience with them. But he was only emotionally taken up with philosophy and was more interested in the polysemantic answers of the philosophers than he was agitated by their questions. Innokentii was an erudite and an orator. He was not an historian and his efforts at historical exposition were always weak. For several long years he prepared the publication of his Dogmatic Essays [Dogmaticheskii Sbornik] , as he called it, or A Monument of the Orthodox Faith [Pamiatnik very pravoslavnoi] . It was intended to be precisely a collection of essays — a collection of instructions in faith presented and explained in chronological order. But Innokentii did not touch upon the idea of living Tradition with all its manifold dimensions. The essays remained unpublished. Innokentii's undoubted service was founding the journal Sunday Reading [Voskresnoe Chtenie] at the Kiev Theological Academy in 1837. The journal was more didactic than scholarly.

As a preacher Innokentii most closely resembles Massillon. 198 He was connected in every way with western tradition. Patristic motifs are hardly detectable. Moreover, he reworked an entire series of Uniate acathisti under the domination of this sentimental spirit, of this play of pious imagination.

In this regard, Innokentii may be compared with his Kievan contemporary and colleague I. K. Amfiteatrov (1802-1848), in his day a very well-known professor of homiletics at the academy. His Lectures on Church Philology [Chteniia o tserkovnoi slovesnosti] appeared in 1847. Amfiteatrov turned from French models in sermonry to patristic ones. Yet the sentimental strain, practically a "holy melancholy," was very strong in him. It was a preference for sorrow and dreaminess ("the sun shone, but the light was sorrow to him . . .").

To a certain extent "westernism" was inescapable in the daily routine of the reformed ecclesiastical schools. Foreign books and texts were necessary for study. The first task of a teacher was to introduce the contemporary scholarly and pedagogical materials of the western theological schools into a Russian school idiom. With the gradual transition to Russian instruction, the question of composing or translating "textbooks" became much more pointed than it had been when Latin was the sole language of theological instruction and learning both in Russia and in the West. The Statute of 1814 encouraged teachers to compose their own notes or texts. During the "return to the time of scholasticism" such activities came under suspicion, and control and surveillance made them difficult. In those first decades of the nineteenth century, the students learned from foreign textbooks in translation, in the original, or sometimes in paraphrase. The first Russian books were no more than paraphrases. For Holy Scripture Metropolitan Amvrosii Podobedov's 199 Handbook for Reading Holy Scriptures [Rukovodstvo k chteniiu Sv. Pisaniia, Moscow, 1799], a paraphrase of a book by Hofmann, 200 was used, as was Rambach's Institutiones hermeneuticae sacrae. 201 Ioann Dobrozrakov, 202 at one time the rector of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy, composed his dissertation, Delineation hermeneuticae sacrae generalis (1828) on the basis of Rambach. It was also used as a "textbook." In "conceptual" theology, that is theoretical or dogmatic theology, all the books of the previous century were retained. Prokopovich was included, but most often it was Irinei Fal'kovskii and only rarely the Russian books of Platon, Makarii Petrovich, or now and then Tikhon Zadonskii's On True Christianity. New authorities appeared in the academies: Dobmayer in Kiev; 203 at the Moscow Academy rector Polikarp lectured from Libermann 204 and made use of the other new courses coming from Germany. Somewhat later Filaret Gumilevskii lectured from Klee 205 and Brenner, 206 "and not without reference to the opinions of German rationalism." At the same time the works of the Fathers were recommended, but in practice at the time attention was alinost wholly devoted to modern literature. Rector Polikarp had the habit of producing testimony from the Fathers of the Eastern Church, and the students in the upper classes would study these extracts. In moral or "active" theology, the usual textbook was Buddeus, usually as revised by Feofilakt. Sometimes Schubert's theology was used, translated from the Latin by the Kostroma Archpriest I. Arsen'ev 207 (1804) or also the text of Archdeacon I.S. Kochetov, Characteristics of an active study of faith [Cherty deiatel'nago ucheniia very] . This was a Russian reworking of Innokentii Smirnov's Latin lectures compiled according to Buddeus and Mosheim. Filaret Gumilevskii remarked that "the Latin notes of the rector were translated into Russian and that was all there was to it."

The basic textbook for pastoral theology was the useful but aged book by Parfenii Sopkovskii, bishop of Smolensk, A book on the duties of parish presbyters [Kniga o dolzhnostiakh presviterov prikhodskikh] 208 which some preferred to the translated Catholic text by Giftschutz. 209 In liturgics either the New Tablet [Novaia Skrizhal'] or a book by I.I. Dmitrevskii, An Historical and Mysterious explanation of the Divine Liturgy [Istoricheskoe i tainstvennoe obiasnenie Bozhestvennoi liturgii, 1804] 210 were most often used. It was usual to turn to foreign books on composition. "Besides Latin books, the most important books for writing a dissertation were those in German. Therefore, after entering the academy, the students devoted all their energies to learning German in order to read German books." This is stated by the historian of the Moscow Academy, and this situation lasted nearly the entire nineteenth century. Under such conditions, the sharpest impact of that confessional milieu in which the theological investigation and labor went forward in the West was absolutely inescapable. It was noted immediately. For many it meant timidity and wavering, sometimes even outright fear. Would it not be better to avoid this encounter completely, refuse contact with the traditions of western learning and science, and not sample the dubious foreign sources? In reality, the constant reading of foreign books was not harmless. However, the chief danger was not that theological thought must wrestle with difficult arguments or become sidetracked. Much more important was the possibility that the very soul would be bisected and cut off from firm moorings. Intimate comments in letters between friends or in diaries are especially instructive and illustrative in this connection. The friendly correspondence between Filaret Gumilevskii and A.V. Gorskii provides interesting examples. Equilibrium could only be restored through ascetic vigil and prayer.

The danger lay in the artificial character of the schools, which were not bound organically with life, with the actual life of the Church. Clerical youths lived for years in the artifical semi-isolation of the half Orthodox, half-Russian schools. Habits of abstract theorizing were cultivated; a self-styled dreamy intellectualism developed. The circumstances of the Alexandrine epoch and the beginnings of Romanticism greatly facilitated it . . .

However, no matter how difficult and dangerous this "western" stage was, it was inescapable. It had to be accepted as such and as a relative truth. For it is possible to save oneself from the dangers of thought only by creativity, not by prohibitions . . .

Church and State Under Nicholas I.

The fall of the "Ministry of Religious Affairs" in 1824, the overthrow of that "Egyptian yoke," as Metropolitan Seraphim put it, did not alter the general character of Church-state relations. Fotii vainly hastened to announce that "in the glory of God the Father, the Lord Jesus Christ alone is our minister," for a "secular man" still held power in the Church. Shishkov, even though not a minister of a "combined ministry," continued to interfere in the affairs of Synodal administration on the questions of the Catechism and Biblical translation. The process of converting Church administration into a "department" was actually speeded up under the Over Procurator S.D. Nechaev (1833-1836). 211 Without preliminary permission, without hesitating to decide matters automatically, without consulting the Synod and even altering Synodal decisions while closing off the path of retreat by imperial confirmation of his reports, the Over Procurator concentrated all Synodal affairs and relations in his hands. Nechaev, a Mason, was contemptuous of both the clergy and the hierarchy.

Suddenly, as if from nowhere, police reports began to appear against the hierarchs and members of the Holy Synod. These reports largely turned out to be lies. Our chancellery suspected that the Over Procurator assisted in these reports, in order to humiliate Church administration in Russia. Hierarchs and members of the Synod justified themselves as best they could. The Synod was greatly agitated, while the Over Procurator, giving the appearance of agitation and encouraging the dissatisfaction of the members, declared that the regime of police surveillance did more harm than good.

This is how Ismailov, a contemporary bureaucrat in the Synodal Chancellery, recounted these events in his "memoirs." Even Filaret of Moscow fell under suspicion. In an official report he was goaded into the incautious remark that "the right of the police to report rumors without the least responsibility for false information impedes the freedom of administration and disturbs, in word and deed, the tranquility of Russian subjects." This was an outright condemnation of the gendarme principle. During Nicholas' reign such remarks were not forgotten, even in the case of metropolitans. Once again during the cholera of 1830 Filaret appeared disloyal, when in his sermon he spoke too frequently about the sins of kings and about Divine punishments. Finally, it would seem at Filaret's insistence, the idea to appoint the Tsarevich, the future Alexander II, to a seat in the Synod in conformity with his inclusion in the Senate and other higher state bodies was rejected. With a surprising lack of delicacy, Filaret referred to the internal autonomy of the Church. Even to catch sight of Filaret became an unpleasantry for the Emperor Nicholas.

Filaret had his own theory about the state, a theory of the Holy Kingdom. He certainly did not conform to the official and officious doctrine of state sovereignty. "The Sovereign receives his entire legitimacy from the Church's anointment," that is, in the Church and through the Church. And only the Sovereign is anointed, not the state. Therefore the organs of state power possess no jurisdiction in Church affairs. Filaret's cast of mind was utterly foreign to the state bureaucrats of the Nicholaitan era. For them Filaret was a dangerous liberal. Sideline observers held the same opinion. "Filaret was very clever in humiliating the temporal power; in his sermons there was the light of that vague Christian socialism which beamed from Lacordaire 212 and other far-sighted Catholics" (This was Herzen's estimate in My Past and Thoughts [Byloe i dumy].).

Dissatisfaction with Nechaev reached such a pitch that the Tsar was asked to appoint a more workable Over Procurator. The assistant to the Over Procurator, A.N. Murav'ev, played a decisive part in this plan. Count N.A. Pratasov was appointed. He turned out to be even more powerful than Nechaev. He had a completely elaborated system of reform, and he possessed the ability to gather shrewd and able executors of his designs. Pratasov faithfully promoted the Nicholaitan establishment or regime in Church politics. State integration of Church administration was completed precisely in this period. Hence-forth the Church was known as the "Department of the Orthodox Confession." The clergy and the hierarchy were included. The office of Over Procurator was transformed by means of a "Synodal Command" from an organ of state surveillance and supervision into an organ of real power. This was entirely in harmony with the spirit of Peter's reform. In those same' years Speranskii was minting precise formulae in the Petrine spirit.

As a Christian sovereign the Emperor is the supreme defender and guardian of the dogmas of the ruling faith and observer of orthodoxy [pravoverie] and all good order in the Holy Church. In this sense, the Emperor, in the law of succession to the throne (April 5, 1797), is called the Head of the Church. The Autocratic power is implemented in Church administration by means of the Most Holy Governing Synod which it has established. (Fundamental Laws [Osnovnye zakony] , articles 42 and 43 of the 1832 edition.).

Pratasov looked upon Church affairs solely from the point of view of state interest as "the teaching to which our Fatherland has lent its moral authority." He built an Empire and put a church on it. Educated by a Jesuit governor, surrounded by assistants and advisors taken for the most part from the former Polotsk Uniate College, Pratasov was the epitome of a self styled and profane bureaucratic Latinism. The urge toward precise definitions was linked to the barracks-like and reactionary spirit of that epoch. Pratasov had no sympathy toward Rome. But Romanized books on theology and canon law corresponded to his own personal tastes. Not only did he wish to rule the Church administration, Pratasov wanted to reorganize and reconstruct it in harmony with the fundamental principles of an absolute confessional state. This design constitutes his historical significance. Prior to his appointment to the Synod, precisely during the period when the "University Statute" and the "Statute on School Districts" was revised in 1835, Pratasov was Uvarov's assistant in the Ministry of Education. 213 In that ministry a plan to reform the ecclesiastical schools had been prepared which fully conformed to the minister's anti-clerical and pedagogical views. Was not the very existence of a special ecclesiastical school network simply the manifestation of a dangerous class egoism, "an extraordinarily harmful vocational egoism?" Was not the entire Statute of 1814 antiquated? The Ministry sternly criticized the entire educational system based on fear. It underscored the insufficient and deficient texts as well as the failings of the entire educational program, especially the harm philosophy might do when applied to theology. Would it not reduce to myth that which is beyond human understanding? Parish and district [uezd] schools were to be combined and transferred to the Ministry of Education.

Once more Filaret defended the ecclesiastical schools and the class accused of harmful egoism. The question of transferring or eliminating the schools was dropped. Pratasov insisted on reforms, but the Commission on Ecclesiastical Schools was unwilling either to expand the question or contemplate reforms. It was satisfied to reexamine merely the textbooks and course plans submitted by the various seminaries.

Pratasov decided to circumvent the Commission and even the Synod. In 1839, on the strength of his own Imperial Report, the Commission was dissolved and replaced by a special Ecclesiastical-Educational Administration. Such a step was logical, since the Commission on Ecclesiastical Schools was organically linked with the previous school structure which was now to be substantially altered. Discussion centered precisely on the change of principles, ideals, and goals. The principle of social development and cultural growth placed at the foundation of all the educational measures of the Alexandrine period seemed dangerous, disintegrative, artificial, and useless to Pratasov. He wanted to turn back once more to the eighteenth century with its service professionalism. The former statute openly declared "learning" to be the special aim of these schools. This was exactly what Pratasov did not want. It was precisely this self-contained and "dead learning" which it was above all necessary to eliminate, particularly that "disreputable and godless science" philosophy. According to Pratasov's estimate, previously "in many respects the education of Russia's clerical youths rested on an arbitrary, non-Orthodox foundation which had something in common with various Protestant sects." This was an obvious rebuke of the Alexandrine period. The former statute explicitly proposed to "adhere directly to the latest discoveries and achievements." This meant that "non-Orthodox" and "arbitrary" study. Here Pratasov invoked the words of Chrysostom: "Good ignorance is better than poor knowledge. . . ." At any rate, what was needed was a scientific course and instruction suitable to the conditions of village life.

The students leave the seminaries to become village priests. They must know village life and be able to assist the peasant even in his daily affairs. Thus, what use is all this theology to a village priest? Why does he need philosophy, that science of freethinking, nonsense, egoism, and boasting? What are trigonometry, differentials, and integrals to him? It would be better to strengthen his knowledge of Catechetics, Church statutes, and singing. That is enough. Let the higher sciences remain in the academies.

This was how Archimandrite Nikodim Kazantsev, a former teacher at the Moscow Academy, interpreted Pratasov's instructions. Nikodim was at that time rector of Viatka Seminary and had been summoned by the Over Procurator in order to compose new statutes. 214 Pratasov and his intimate assistant, Karasevskii, 215 did all they could to inculcate this narrow principle of professionalism in Nikodim. "Every cadet among us knows his weapons and how to march; a sailor knows the name, place and strength of every last nail in the ship; an engineer gauges every conceivable crowbar, hook, and rope. But we clergy do not know our clerical business." By "clerical business" Pratasov understood not only the "statute" and "singing," but also the ability to speak "with the people." It was this pretentious "populism" which gave the projected reform its polemical character. Pratasov merely developed and applied the ideas of Kiselev. 216 Cadres of elementary teachers who could teach morality to the people must be created. The clergy was to be adapted to that end.

Judging by the first survey, it would seem that the village priest, having contact with people who are ready to accept in childish simplicity everything spoken by their pastor, has need not so much of a detailed and deep knowledge of science, as an ability to elucidate Christian truths and morality of the Gospels simply and clearly, phrasing those truths of the Gospel in such a way that they are suitable for the simple minds of the villagers and relating them to the circumstances of village life. . . .

Pratasov's entire design was nothing other than a "wager on simplicity" [stavka na oproshchenie] . In the "circumstances of village life" would it not be more useful to master daily and practical habits than acquire "a deep knowledge of science?" Would it not be better to know the rudiments of medicine and firmly understand the fundamental principles of agriculture? Should not these subjects be introduced and strengthened in the seminary programs at the expense of "cold learning?"

Pratasov proposed to strengthen the non-clerical class features throughout the school system and impart to all instruction "a direction consistent with the needs of village parishioners: ' Pratasov defined the aim of all ecclesiastical schools as "the education of worthy servitors of the altar and preachers of the Word of the Lord to the people." His proposals were decisively opposed in the Commission on Ecclesiastical Schools. Filaret submitted a point by point refntarion of them and asked how much these proposals were in harmony "with the spirit of Church law: ' Only during the summer absence of Filaret of Moscow and Filaret of Kiev was Pratasov able to push through the Commission a proposal for certain alterations in the textbooks and curriculum. The teacher of literature was reminded that "the direct aim of his work is to educate a person who can correctly, freely, expressively, and convincingly converse with the people about the truths of faith and morality." Therefore, secular rhetorics, poetics, and so on might be passed over quickly. "Higher criticism in history instruction is to be avoided, for as a weapon in the hands of a one-sided logician it threatens to destroy historical monuments" (that is, their veracity), just as "arbitrary systemization" was to be avoided where nations or personalities are depicted as bearers of "some sort of ideas fatal for them." Somewhat unexpectedly, a Latin program was proposed for philosophy: "Philosophy is accustomed to speak in Latin: ' Is not this preference for Latin more readily explained by the fear that to carry on a public discussion of philosophy in a readily understood language might be dangerous? Only the most general directions were given for teaching theology: let it be taught "so that the priest may easily adapt and apply it when he finds an opportunity to converse with a simple person born a Mohammedan or a pagan, or who has converted from Christianity." One need not resolve questions and doubts "which the innocent mind does not even suspect: ' Peter Mogila's Orthodox Confession [Pravoslavnoe ispovedanie] was to be placed at the foundation of this instruction, and "the details of theology are to be confirmed by reference to it." The Orthodox Confession was published in modern Russian by the Synod in that same year, 1838. In addition, a new subject was to be introduced in the seminary curriculum, the history of the Holy Fathers, for which it was still necessary to work out and compile a textbook.

At that time Pratasov was most concerned with the publication of reference texts which could be consulted as easily and unreservedly as if they were the teaching and injunction of the Church on every dimension of ecclesiastical life. In addition to Peter Mogila's Confession the Imperial and Patriarchal charters on the establishment of the Holy Synod, with an exposition of the Orthodox Confession of the Eastern Church [Tsarskaia i patriarshiia gramaty o uchrezhdenii Sviat. Sinoda, s izlozheniem Pravoslavnago ispovedaniia Postochno-Kafolicheskiia Tserkvi] was issued. 217 The translation and editorial work was undertaken by Filaret of Moscow, who introduced very important corrections in the text in an effort to eliminate Latinisms (e.g., the injunction to laymen against reading the Holy Scriptures and the term "transubstantiation" [presushchestvlenie] were eliminated). 218 Subsequently the Ecclesiastical-Educational Administration prescribed that copies of these "charters" be given to the students at the seminary when they attained the highest form, "so that upon finishing the school and leaving the seminary, they might keep this book for constant reference." The question of the Catechism was once more raised by Pratasov in connection with the publication of these "Books of Symbols." Pratasov, supported by Serbinovich, 219 the director of his chancellery, insisted on introducing new questions and answers on Tradition and predestination and omitting those about natural knowledge of God in visible nature. Filaret refused to include an exposition of the so-called "commandments of the Church" 220 in the Catechism, for he found them superfluous alongside God's Commandments. Instead, the commandments concerning the Beatitudes were included (as they had been in the Orthodox Confession). No substantial changes were made in the Catechism. The moment passed without incident. Filaret was satisfied with the new edition of his Catechism. After correction, together with its attendant additions, it was no longer merely a catechism, but a theological "system" in summation. "In as much as there is no book approved for theology, and our theologians do not always guide the word of truth correctly, I was moved to supplement the catechism." However, Pratasov and Serbinovich were soon dissatisfied. In the next few years the question was several times raised of composing a new catechism by a new author. In the 1850's the name Makarii was selected. 221

In 1839, the Book of Laws [Kniga pravil] was published to replace The Rudder [Kormchaia kniga]. 222 Only Church laws were included in it; civil legislation was omitted. Unlike what was done for civil legislation under Speranskii, Pratasov found it untimely to publish a "complete collection" of Church laws in view of the "unseemliness" (as he justified it) of many laws of the Petrine era and the entire preceding century. Their publication might be somewhat awkward and perhaps even injurious. The Complete Collection of ecclesiastical legislation in Russia since the establishment of the Holy Synod [Polnoe sobranie dukhovnykh ukazonenii v Rossii so vremeni uchrezhdeniia Sviat. Sinoda] already compiled by Professor A. Kunitsyn 223 was therefore left in manuscript, just as the extensive canonical code of Avgustin Sakharov, Bishop of Orenburg, 224, was found unsuitable. Even the Spiritual Regulation 225 was not republished during this era of republication. A Statute on ecclesiastical consistories [Ustav dukhovnykh konsistorii] was newly composed and introduced for temporary use in the same year, 1838, and its final text was confirmed and republished in 1841. For Pratasov's edifice, two pillars were intimately connected: on the one hand, utility, order and discipline, and on the other hand, professional qualification and strict delineation of the entire order by written rules or laws. Pratasov did not like monasticism, which was logical from the state's point of view. He preferred to raise "clerical youths" in a more practical and secular way. He preferred the uniform to the cassock, as Rostislavov very interestingly relates in his memoirs (especially in the chapter "On the reform of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy primarily on the model of the battalion of military cantons").

Only in 1840 were new course outlines for the seminaries finally worked out and approved. They were introduced in the Moscow and Kazan' districts in the fall of that year. For all of his stubbornness and persistence, Pratasov was forced to give way in a great deal. He had to be satisfied with a compromise. The new subjects which he wanted, "general medicine" and agriculture, were added to the seminary curriculum. But the general character of instruction femained unaltered. Only the Russian language was permitted for teaching all subjects, and Latin was treated as a separate discipline. Modern languages and Hebrew were electives. It was suggested that philosophy be confined to psychology and logic, while excluding other branches of metaphysics. These changes in instruction did not become "generalized." But the logical coherence and core of courses which so fruitfully distinguished the schools under the Alexandrine statute was lost. An interesting innovation was the "preparatory course for the priesthood" for those who had already finished. This course was a morepractical program, which included visits to city hospitals in order to learn simple methods of healing. No substantial changes were included in the academy course outlines. Only the distribution of courses according to class was altered. New courses and even new chairs were established: patristics, "a theological encyclopedia," pedagogy, Russian civil history, and so on. However, the most important thing — the spirit of the times — was altered.

Pratasov sought for the clerical robe new people who would be able to transcribe his designs into the more technical language of the Church and theology. After several attempts and failures, he found his man among the Moscow teachers: Afanasii Drozdov, then rector of the Kherson Seminary in Odessa. 226 "Count Pratasov found certain pet ideas in Archimandrite Afanasii and raised him upon his shoulders" (in the words of Metropolitan Filaret). He was transferred as rector to the St. Petersburg Academy.

Afanasii occupied no chair and taught no subjects at the academy. But he was entrusted with the supervision of all teachers, and he conveyed to them the correct ideas about their subjects. Moreover Afanasii was appointed to preside over a special committee on textbooks and course outlines. The entire blow was now concentrated on the educational program. The first theme around which debate swirled (both orally and in writing) was Holy Scripture. Afanasii was not content to distinguish two sources of knowledge about faith, Scripture and Tradition, as independent and separate subjects. He wished to diminish Scripture. One detects personal pain in the passion and irresponsibility with which Afanasii proved the insufficiency (actually the hopelessness) of Scripture. Afanasii frightened contemporaries with his arrogance. "It seems to me that the grace of the Spirit has recoiled from him, and he is often without peace and consolation in the Holy Spirit," remarked Evsevii Orlinskii (later archbishop of Mogilev), 227 who replaced him as rector. "In such circumstances he tortures himself and does not know what to do with himself. He catches on some haughty dream and then forgets it; he is carried away or puts on airs, and then once more behaves pitifully." The source of theological suspiciousness, not just caution, may be found in this inner uncertainty, or in his lack of firm faith. "Afanasii, yes, Afanasii alone and no one else preaches: `Mogila's Confession and The Rudder are all there is for me — and there is nothing else,' " wrote Filaret Gumilevskii to A.V. Gorskii. One might add: and not even the Fathers or the Bible. Afanasii wanted to steer himself away with The Rudder from all doubt. As Gorskii records from these same comments of Metropolitan Filaret, Afanasii "believed in the Church books even more than in the Word of God. You cannot be saved by the Word of God, only the Church books can save you . . . . " Afanasii was a convinced and consistent obscurantist, and his pessimistic obscurantism sprang from doubt and the lack of faith. Everything was in doubt. Nikanor of Kherson 228 sympathetically and with commiseration depicted Afanasii's sinister and tragic image. Afanasii was neither ignorant nor indifferent. He was a passionately inquisitive and curious man. "A sharp mind able to plunge to the depths of matters," said Nikanor. But it was a proud and spiteful mind. Afanasii did not read Russian books even in the later years of literary awakening. "Absolute rubbish, my dear boy." He read only foreign books, both old and modern. He was interested most of all in the Bible, and he was an excellent Hebraist. He was interested in the history of ancient religions, the epoch of early Christianity, and he reread all the Fathers to Photius. 229 He knew contemporary "German Christology" from Bauer to Strauss, 230 the natural sciences, and not just from books. He kept a herbarium and collected minerals. From such a surfeit of knowledge and interests he weakened and fell to doubting. He became frightened and doubted himself. As an older man he wrote voluminously, "he wrote enormous, thorough, and substantial investigations, which were of systematic importance." But he burned everything. "He wrote and burned." Yet something was saved from this destruction. The manuscript of the book The Believers in Christ and Christians [Khristovery i Khristiana] , on which Afanasii labored in his later years was preserved. The book is about the origins of Christianity. The chapter headings are very curious. The author distinguishes "the believers in Christ" from "Christianity without Christ" and before Jesus Christ. He studied the history, teachings, and tradition of this Christianity. He sought among the apologists for "organic remains" of it ("not that Christianity which takes its beginnings from Jesus Christ, but a different one which preceded it"). The Essenes, Therapeutae, and Philo are the links in the chain of facts he studied. 231 "The effort by writers among the believers in Christ to efface from the historical monuments all the evidence about Christians long in advance of the Christian faith" did not completely succeed. The "Gospel of Marcion" 232 occupied a prominent place in this process of transformation of Christianity into a "Catholic Christian belief."

In Nikanor's account, Afanasii was "subject to the most oppressive inner grief, and subjected by a sick mind, but not as one who is the product of simple insanity, rather his sickness flowed from a surplus of knowledge, from the impossibility of reconciling intellectual antinomies, from a temporary and passing turbulence, from the principles imbibed with his mother's milk which began to grow in his soul." This is that sinister "turbulence" of heartfelt beliefs; it is the grief of a heart which doubts everything, and Afanasii's reactionary anxiety grew in this quaking soil. "That man will burn people on a bonfire, he will hand over holy vessels for desecration, yet he will remain half convinced that he does so for the benefit of mankind," wrote Filaret Gumilevskii, condemning Afanasii's policies. The cooperation between Afanasii and Pratasov — that union of profound doubt and powerful presumption — could not last long. These two men agreed only on practical conclusions, not on premises. Within five years; Afanasii was sent to distant Saratov as bishop.

Afanasii began his career of reaction at the St. Petersburg Academy when he forbade Karpov 233 to lecture from his own notes, and compelled him to lecture strictly according to Winkler. 234 True, Karpov began to lecture "critically" according to Winkler, that is, unsparingly refuting him and then turning with a passion to the history of philosophy. During the first year of his administration at the academy, Afanasii presented his own textbook, A concise hermeneutic [Sokrashchenaia germenevtika], to the Holy Synod through the Academic Conference. In it, he set forth his theological principles. Filaret of Kiev absolutely refused either to discuss or review the book. Therefore Filaret of Moscow was asked to comment on it. Filaret gave a sharp and detailed reply. Afanasii was humiliated and upset by Filaret's response and wished to bring him to judgment before the Eastern Patriarchs. Filaret was profoundly worried and disturbed by the attempt to elevate Tradition so high that it would cast a shadow on Scripture, as though Scripture "does not serve as a model for general education" and does not contain "all of the dogmas." Afanasii was too clever in trying to show the insufficiency, incomprehensibility, contradictoriness, or ambiguities, and even intentional vagueness of Scriptural texts. "The Holy Spirit spoke Holy Scripture in order to illuminate, not obscure," Filaret objected. Afanasii considered the disagreements and different readings to be irreconcilable and hopeless. Filaret replied:

If the judgment of the Hermeneutic under examination were to be accepted, we would know for certain which word is the Word of God and which word is the word of man both in the Old and the New Testaments. It is terrible even to contemplate such a thing. Praise God that the view of this hermeneutic is false.

Would attacking the reliability of Scripture be "sufficiently cautious?" Would it not also put the reliability of Tradition under attack? "The obligation of fidelity before God and His Holy Word and His Holy Church compels one to testify here that a judgment of Holy Scripture based on excessive attention to incidental defects in it, without at the same time any indication of its true perfection, is not only inconsistent with divinely inspired Scripture, but it is also dangerous for Orthodoxy....

Not only Filaret responded so sharply and with such agitation. In 1845, Archpriest V. B. Bazhanov, 235 the Tsar's confessor, in his capacity as member of the Academic Conference, happened to read the student examinations. In one of them — the examination of Tarasii Seredinskii 236 — he encountered something, which perplexed him. Seredinskii placed the Gospels and the writings of the Fathers under the single rubric, the Word of God, with the distinction that the Gospels were called the written Word of God, while the works of important Church writers were the Word of God transmitted orally. Such modernism runs completely counter to the teachings of the Orthodox Church and touches on one of its important points. Bazhanov considered it his obligation to direct the Conference's attention to where the student Seredinskii might obtain such an incorrect understanding of the Word of God. Was the error his own or the fruit of outside prompting? Immediately Bazhanov was compelled to leave the membership of the Conference. Partisans of the "return to the time of scholasticism" attempted to remove the Bible even further than from this secondary position. They spoke persistently about completely forbidding laymen to read the Word of God in order to avoid false commentaries. "The thought of forbidding simple Christians to read the Holy Scriptures terrifies me," wrote the archbishop of Tver, Grigorii Postnikov, to Filaret of Moscow. "I cannot conceive from where such an opinion could come. Is it not a contrivance of Latinism's secret agents? Or is it an opinion bred by the increased freethinking of our age, so that later we might be laughed at as earlier were the clergy of the Western Church?" The question was raised about publishing the Slavonic text of the Bible on the model of the Vulgate ("exclusively self-sufficient") and sanctioning it for required and exclusive use in cathedral, school, and home.

It is easily imagined how untimely and misplaced Makarii Glukharev's repeated and indiscreet efforts to attract sympathy for a new Russian translation (and one from the Hebrew at that) must have appeared at that moment. Such reminders only increased suspicion and obduracy. The circulation of Professor G. P. Pavskii's Biblical translation, lithographed by the students at the St. Petersburg Theological Academy, aroused even greater excitement. The Pavskii affair began with an anonymous letter sent to the three metropolitans from the city of Vladimir. As was soon discovered, this letter was composed and sent by Hieromonk Agafangel Solov'ev, the inspector of the Moscow Academy. 237 Agafangel was certainly not an opponent of Russian Biblical translation. He was busy with translations of his own, and subsequently he published Russian translations of the Book of Job and the Book of Jesus son of Sirach (1860 and 1861). Hence he was alarmed by the surreptitious circulation of a translation sanctioned by the authority of a scholarly name, but which was inaccurate from the doctrinal and theological points of view. "And when the authority of his scholarship and the glory of his great knowledge threaten translation by wide circulation, then there is no propriety in silence and no salvation in toleration."

The author of the letter, produced samples of false commentary on the Prophets and noted an unwarranted but hardly unintentional coarseness in the translation. He sharply criticized the translation as a whole: "This is the work of a new Marcion, it is not the words of the living and true God, but the vile speech of the ancient serpent." However, the author concluded that a better translation was needed. There is no need to confiscate copies of the Russian translation. Such a measure might only arm a Christian against the authority of the Church. The circulation of this translation is not prompted by readers desiring to share the views of the translator, but by a commonly felt need for a translation . . .The Christian cannot be satisfied with an obscure and unreliable Slavonic translation which in many places conceals the truth from him. Since he has no other translation, he must from necessity go to muddy waters in order to quench his thirst. People who receive a secular education have not read the Slavonic translation for a long time, but turn to foreign translations. . . .

The letter was circulated at the end of 1841. The author naively did not consider who would investigate the matter and discuss his report and advice. With innocent carelessness he provoked the power of the opulent partisans of the "return to the time of scholasticism." He insisted on the publication of a Russian Bible. "Is it just that it is impossible to escape the chiding of superstitious people and those who stubbornly remain in the depths of ignorance? But in what way are those souls at fault who; seeking truth, are refused food for fear of disturbing the peace of superstition and ignorance?" Strangely, the author completely forgot that the metropolitan of St. Petersburg, the Over Procurator of the Holy Synod, and many others on the commanding heights of the Synod stood among the ranks of "those who stubbornly remain in the depths of ignorance."

Filaret of Moscow tried to prevent the report's circulation, but he was too late. Filaret of Kiev, upset by the erratic translation, had already put his copy of the anonymous letter in Pratasov's hands. At a preliminary hearing in the Synod, Filaret of Moscow expressed his decided conviction that a Russian translation of the Bible should be publicly resumed and issued under the authority of the Holy Synod. Pratasov suggested that he put his proposal in writing. Then, without recommending discussion of it in the Synod, Pratasov ordered that a categorical refutation of Filaret's opinion be composed in the name of the aged Metropolitan Seraphim (most likely Afanasii composed it). Pratasov submitted both opinions for imperial consideration, and without the slightest difficulty once more received imperial approval of Metropolitan Seraphim's intolerant and unyielding judgment. Nicholas I detested disputes and differences of opinion, especially in Church affairs, where everything should be decided in complete harmony and unanimity and be based "not on argument and explanations, but on the precise meaning of dogmas."

Strictly speaking, in his note Filaret took the same point of view as the author of the unfortunate report. More accurately, Agafangel, who studied and worked at the Moscow Theological Academy, expressed an idea, which had come from Filaret and was shared by everyone in the Holy Trinity Lavra Academy. He had merely acted carelessly. (Filaret. said of Agafangel, "The eccentric workings of his mind were unpredictable and incomprehensible to me.") Filaret underscored the fact that "suppression by itself is not very promising, when the love for knowledge, which spreads wider every day, hurls itself hungrily in every direction, and tears most strenuously along illegal paths where the legal ones are not sufficiently well built." Filaret proposed a series of positive measures: gradual publication of a series of commentaries and the books of the Bible, beginning with the Prophets of the Old Testament, in accordance with the Septuagint text, but taking into account "Hebrew truth," relying on the self-explanatoriness of the Old Testament in the New, and the clarifications of the Holy Fathers. Filaret did not envision learned commentaries ladened with the "weight of scholarship," but instructive explanations directed "toward the confirmation of faith and toward the guidance of life. . ." Then Filaret proposed to make a new edition of the Slavonic Bible, jettisoning all unnecessarily ancillary articles and accounts of the text's accuracy included in the Elizabethan Bible, 238 but appending notes of clarification to the text in those places where they were demanded. This would provide an understanding of unfamiliar words or expressions, which might give rise to false interpretation. Most importantly, a brief survey of each chapter's content was to be included. The metropolitan of Kiev fully agreed with these proposals. Filaret's note made no mention of a Russian translation. Yet even this modest suggestion seemed positively dangerous to Pratasov and Metropolitan Seraphim. "In the Orthodox Church the preservation and extension of the saving truths of faith is guaranteed by a class of pastors to whom, with this aim in view, the gift of teaching was imparted and who are eminently qualified for it in the ecclesiastical institutions." "If this translation is the fruit only of a love of knowledge, then the love of knowledge should be given another direction more in keeping with the purposes of the Church." Thus, the "love of knowledge" of believers toward the Word of God was declared superfluous and not corresponding to the "purposes of the Church:" But this was the least of the matter. Publication of the commentaries was also rejected. The commentaries of the Fathers, it is true, were acceptable and permissible, but juxtaposing the individual patristic commentaries was declared dangerous: "it might undermine the veneration the Orthodox nourish for the Holy Fathers and transform the subjects of faith into sources of arid research." Notes appended to the Bible only provide grounds for quarrels and disputes, thereby "implanting the thought in the mind that the Word of God needs human justification and that ordinary people might be judges in matters of faith:' The Pavskii investigation quickly produced an unsettling impression, for Pavskii was actually too free in his theological views. During the questioning, however, he preferred to disavow everything. For Pavskii the matter ended with a pastoral reprimand, his recantation, and enforced retirement.

Much more important was the uproar caused by the wide circulation of the lithographed translation. The translation was confiscated and those who possessed copies were sternly interrogated. Very few had the courage to openly refuse the return of their copies. Among that very small number was Professor M.I. Bogoslovskii 239 who taught at the Uchilishcha Pravovedeniia 240 and who subsequently published his Sacred History (Sviashchennaia istoriia] in two volumes. In his official statement he explained that the copy of the translation was his property, and that he was "required to read the Word of God." Others declared that they misplaced or even destroyed their copies. The net result of this inquest was the intimidation of the faculties in the Church schools, seminaries, and academies, and further disposed them to silence. Somewhat later Zhukovskii wrote to his confessor, Archpriest Bazarov, in Weimar, that: "In Germany self-exegesis produced a loss of faith. For us a dead faith proceeding from non-exegesis is nearly identical with loss of faith. A dead faith is worse than the' loss of faith. Lost faith is a raging, living enemy. It fights, but conviction can overcome and conquer it. Dead faith is a corpse. What can be done with a corpse?" Immediately after the Pavskii investigation, both Filarets left St. Petersburg and the Synod under such circumstances that they would not return again, although they retained their titles as members of the Synod. A.N. Murav'ev left the service of the Synod at the same time. In the next few years the membership was selected primarily from among the zealots of the "return to the time of scholasticism." During the shipment to Moscow of Filaret's trunks ("whose locks had been mutilated"), a "search had been made in order to discover if some heresy was not concealed in those chests," as Filaret said about the affair. In St. Petersburg during those years, "they thirsted for slander" against Filaret. He left for Moscow in great anxiety about the consequences for the Church.

Filaret Gumilevskii, in his letters to Gorskii at the time, very openly and clearly describes the tense situation in St. Petersburg. Only just promoted from among the rectors of the Moscow Academy and consecrated bishop of Riga, Filaret was compelled to remain several months in St. Petersburg at the end of 1841 until he could travel to Riga. He was in St. Petersburg throughout all the debates in the Pavskii affair. He was able to follow matters on each side, both through his metropolitan (whom he sincerely respected and resembled in several respects), and through the "shaved schismatics," as he cleverly dubbed the courtiers and bureaucrats under the Over Procurator's supervision. Pratasov and Serbinovich sought to use him for their ends, although, as he ironically put it, "they had long ago put him in the lists of intractable Lutherans." Filaret's general impression was gloomy: "a difficult time — a time which compels one to watch vigilantly each step." Were these not shadows rambling and swirling around? He spoke directly and openly about persecution. "Today they seek out our sins, so that they might draw administrative matters into their own hands because of them and make the Church into an arena for their egotistical careers." The Church besieged; such was Filaret's impression.

On the surface it seems as if they are fussing over matters of faith and Orthodoxy; but this could seem true only for a person unacquainted with or foreign to the words Orthodoxy and faith. In the language of their hearts it all means: our concern is politics, all other concerns are marginal . . . . How strange to live among such people. You are afraid and alarmed for your soul, lest the storms of intrigue blow it into the deadly abyss of worldly vanity. Today, tomorrow, at this moment, in the next hour, you ponder how to judge and even condemn intriguers who would exchange faith and sanctity for some ribboned decoration or often merely a smile from higher ups.

At the end of 1842, in his November 14th report to the throne, Pratasov summarized the results of the newly won battle, and outlined a program for further skirmishes. Pratasov bluntly charged the entire Church school system with errors and heresy; more precisely, with Protestantism. If up to this point schoolroom Protestantism had produced no irremediable misfortune, it was only because the graduates of these schools, while serving at the altar, in their parishes, in the rituals and under the laws of the Church — in the very life of the Church — encountered principles and an understanding utterly different from that of the schools. Under the influence of life, they abandoned such harmful ideas.

The author of the report traced the history of this heresy in the schools back to Feofan Prokopovich. He dwelled with particular detail on the events of the recent past when the Bible societies were active and had distributed books on theosophy and mysticism along with the Bible. Now, however, decisive measures had been taken against foreign interference, "so that the garden of religious knowledge will always be illumined by the beneficient light of Apostolic and Catholic teaching which saves the Orthodox East, along with our Fatherland, from all the deadly errors of the West." There was much that was true in this critique. Only the conclusion was false. For it was impossible to overcome western errors by simple supression. The Report [Zapiska] was most likely once again composed for Pratasov by Afanasii. In any case, Afanasii was of like mind. "While rector of the St. Petersburg Academy," Filaret of Moscow said, "Bishop Afanasii maintained that all Russian theologians before him were not Orthodox."

In keeping with Pratasov's design, a hasty edition of a new theological "system" was produced for immediate use as a "textbook" at the very least. At one time "they even demanded in the Emperor' s name" that Filaret of Moscow compile the textbook. He did not do so because of poor health. Pratasov then proposed that Filaret Gumilevskii should take up the task. Filaret found this suggestion "flattering; to one's ego, but not very flattering to the intelligence of anyone aware of the actual state of affairs." He declined. Only much later, in 1864 did Filaret fully rework and publish his course in dogmatic theology.

Makarii Bulgakov (1816-1882), then a young hieromonk and baccalaureate at the Kiev Academy was more compliant. He was summoned to St. Petersburg in 1842 to teach theology, replacing Afanasii who declined to teach it and preferred to concentrate on teaching others. Makarii had not previously studied theology, and he felt more affinity for, and interest in, historical themes. He wrote his school thesis on the history of the Kiev Academy, and in doing so he must have even become acquainted with old course and conspectus manuscripts on theology from the time of Catholic influence. Most likely this was the source of his own personal sympathy for Roman Catholic handbooks and systems. At the academy Makarii listened to the lectures on dogmatics given by Dimitrii Muretov (1806- 1883), 241 twice subsequently archbishop of Kherson and Taurida. But he did not learn scholastic ways from Dimitrii. We can judge Dimitrii's theology lectures by only a few fragments recorded in student memoirs. Dimitrii attracted, and irresistibly attracted, the truly meek and humble heart. But this "feeling of the heart" never descended to a rhetorical or sticky sentimentalism. His feeling of the heart resided in the spiritual element and soul. In his lectures he tried to link theological problematics with their spiritual sources and religious, experience. One always detects the constant curiosity of his searching mind. Dimitrii's outlook must now be reconstructed from his sermons. He loved to deliver sermons, especially ones on dogmatic themes. He spoke very simply, yet he was able to express religious conceptions precisely in simple, almost naive, words and reveal an inward perspective even in prosaic details (for example, read his sermon on time and eternity given New Year's Day). By his dogmatic inquisitiveness, the power and exhaustiveness of his reasoning, his gift of plastic definition, Dimitrii reminds one most of all of Filaret of Moscow. Moreover, Dimitrii had a charming simplicity and wonderful humility. Khomiakov highly valued Dimitrii whom he knew personally when Dimitrii was bishop of Tula.

In a real sense Dimitrii should be included in the Alexandrine current in Russian Church life. He was educated in those books and under those impressions. He shared a common taste or even passion for philosophy with Innokentii. Even as a theologian Dimitrii remained a philosopher. He began with the data of Revelation and the testimony of the Word of God, but immediately proceeded to a speculative discovery of the meaning and power of dogma. He was not an historian, although he supported the historical method in the exposition of dogma. He was never a westerner — his creative independent mind and his mystical realism saved him from that.

Dimitrii had no direct influence on Makarii, for whom philosophical investigation of dogma held no interest. Makarii states that immediately after he arrived in St. Petersburg, Afanasii subjected his knowledge of theology to a strict examination, "especially where it touched on points of Orthodoxy." He had to begin his lectures without any preparation two weeks after he arrived. And if that was not enough, he had to write them quickly "in order to turn them over to the printer" for publication. Obviously Makarii lectured according to Afanasii's program. Temporarily, while there was still no textbook, it was proposed that an assortment of extracts be used from the writings of St. Dimitrii of Rostov, arranged "by subject." 242 A section entitled "On Holy Faith and the Church in general" was placed at the beginning. Afanasii was fully satisfied with these extracts. As Metropolitan Filaret observed, Afanasii found "that theology need not be taught systematically, for it was sufficient to read the Holy Scriptures and the Holy Fathers." In 1844 Pratasov sent Filaret of Moscow the newly composed "surveys" [konspekty] on dogmatics at the St. Petersburg Academy for his examination and opinions. Filaret completely opposed the new arrangement of the various sections. He insisted that the best and most promising arrangement was provided or indicated by the Symbol of Faith. 243 ("The Ecumenical Symbol of Faith is nothing other than a brief system of theology.") Filaret also emphasized that "it is the system of the ecumenical Fathers" and not a later subtlety of the western school. "This is the system of Apostolic Tradition." "The arrangement of the Symbol is preserved even in the Orthodox Confession." It is hardly possible to expound with complete conviction the teaching about Christ's Church before the doctrine of Christ as God is investigated. If it is either promising or prudent to put forward so willfully the "mind of the Russian Orthodox Church," then must not some room for the "mind of the Roman Catholic Church" also be admitted? Filaret noted specific Latinizing innovations in the surveys sent to him (for example, the distinction between "form" and "matter" in the sacraments and other similar items).

In 1849 A Dogmatic Theology [Dogmaticheskoe bogoslovie] was published by Antonii Amfiteatrov (1815-1879), then archimandrite and rector of the Kiev Acaderny and later archbishop of Kazan'. This was a book in the old style. Antonii avoided philosophy and reasoning. He would have preferred to avoid every "free word." He wished to retain words already used in Scripture and exactly defined by the Church. Here one detects the direct influence of Filaret of Kiev, "under whose guidance" and at whose desire this "Dogmatic" was composed. Antonii was Filaret's relative.

Antonii was certainly never a scholar. The appointment of a man of his temperament as rector at the academy after Dimitrii and Innokentii was significant. Yet Antonii was not a scholastic either: He was more a preacher and a moral preceptor than a schoolman. He tried to arouse and strengthen faith in the minds and hearts of his audience by summoning them to spiritual contemplation and moral introspection. Antonii did not approve of Makarii's dogmatic theology when it was published: "it was composed on the Lutheran model!" Antonii was awarded a doctor's degree for his textbook. Pratasov wrote to him enthusiastically, "you have done us a great service. You have removed from us the stigma that until now Russia has never had a system of theology."

Meanwhile Makarii continued to lecture in St. Petersburg and publish his lectures chapter by chapter in Christian Reading. In 1847 his Introduction appeared as a separate book and in the following years he published the "system" in five volumes (1849-1853). Makarii's "Great Dogmatic" was subsequently republished many times. It was quickly translated into French and remained in use from that time onward. Impressions about the book are divided and were divided from the very outset. Without any doubt Makarii's dogmatic theology was significant, especially in historical perspective. Of course in gathering his material Makarii was not completely original, nor did he have to be independent. He could find a symphony of Biblical texts and a code of all the patristic citations he needed among western authors, particularly among the old Latin erudites. There was no need to research it all again. The important point is that for the first time such rich and strictly researched material was expounded in a commonly understood Russian style. From this standpoint Innokentii of Kherson's 244 enthusiastic appraisal for the Academy of Sciences of Makarii's newly published dogmatic theology is fully justifiable and understandable. The book "introduced theology into the realm of Russian literature." Only one point in this appraisal is incomprehensible: how could Innokentii declare Makarii's book "an independent and original work?" He could not even appear to be independent and original. He consciously went no further than a simple compilation of texts. Actually he did not suspect that it was necessary to forge the texts and evidence into living dogmatic conceptions, into a spiritual life. In this respect, Makarii did not even resemble Afanasii. Afanasii knew that there are questions for theological searching. He was alive to their reality, but he was afraid to ask such questions either for himself or for others. This is the source of Afanasii's tragedy and failure in life. But in no way was Makarii tragic. He remained indifferent to theological problematics. He was simply unreceptive. In his personal tastes Makarii was a "secular" man, completey immune to the "spiritual life." In the 1840's and 1850's he strengthened the Pratasov regime; in the 1870's he was a leader of the liberal reforms (see his famous proposal to reform the church courts in the Commission of 1873). 245 There was something bureaucratic in his writing style and exposition. His dogmatic theology lacked precisely a "sense of the Church." He dealt with texts, not with evidence or truths. Hence he had such a lifeless and uninspired style which carried no conviction. There are only answers without questions, but they cannot answer what they are not asked. Some might see this as a virtue. In his memorial address, Makarii's disciple Nikanor of Kherson (1824-1890) 246 spoke accurately on this score. Even St. John of Damascus and Peter Mogila had personal views and motives. Both Filaret and Innokentii made ingenious and unrepeatable flights. But not Makarii. His was a straight clear path, "a balanced labor." In other words, Makarii had no personal views. He was more objective than others, for he had no opinions of his own. His was an objectivity from indifference. Many were irritated by the inner indifference and soullessness in Makarii's books from the day they appeared. Khomiakov found Makarii's Introduction "admirably stupid." Filaret Gumilevskii reacted the same way: "A nonsensical morass," "there is neither logical order nor force in the arguments." One might repeat about Makarii's theological books what Giliarov-Platonov 247 wrote about Makarii's History: 248 "a workman-like construction with the trappings of scholarly apparatus . . . . " Giliarov-Platonov was emphatic. Makarii's History has all "the appearance of a history book, but it is not a history, only a book." Similarly Makarii's Dogmatic Theology possesses all the appearances of a book of theology, but it is only a book. "Not a history and not even a book, but merely a construction" (Giliarov-Platonov).

Makarii studied in Kiev when theological and philosophical pathos was powerfully alive at the academy. Yet it passed him by without a trace. Nor can one detect in Makarii the "Pecherskii piety" so apparent in Filaret of Kiev and Antonii Amfiteatrov. Makarii most clearly approximated the style of the Pratasov era, because he was a bureaucratic theologian. His Dogmatic Theology is a typical product of the Nicholaitan epoch. Besides the "great" dogmatic, Makarii also composed a "small" one for use in the schools. As he later said, this book "was kept out of sight by the late sage of Moscow," that is, by Metropolitan Filaret. Only after Filaret's death could this handbook be printed and introduced into the schools as a "textbook." Filaret had silently condemned Makarii. Makarii's contemporary and successor as rector at the St. Petersburg Academy, Ioann Sokolov, 249 reviewed Makarii's book much more critically. "The scholarly books of the author, about which we are speaking, with their thousands of citations contribute like nothing else in these critical times to the final stupefaction and stagnation of the religious beggars in our schools, precisely because they aid the omission of any worthwhile thought, fresh insight, sense of evidence, and inward drive." Makarii's book was outdated the day it first saw the light, and it remained unneeded and without a role to play in Russian theological consciousness, It could not satisfy those devoted to a spiritual life and raised in ascetic awareness or traditions. Makarii's theology was just as discordant with the Philokalia as it was with philosophy. Even Makarii's student and assistant at the St. Petersburg Academy, Nikanor Brovkovich, 250 could not lecture in the same style, and therefore was quickly removed from an academy position and became rector of the seminary at Riga. Makarii advised him to burn his lecture notes and outlines. Nikanor seemed dangerous for he was too greatly attracted by philosophy and in one section of his course he expounded in great detail "the proofs of God's existence." This permitted him to present openly and minutely the modern "critical" theories, particularly those of Kant, although he aimed to attack and refute them. It seems that in his lectures Nikanor touched very daringly on the most "ticklish questions," tore apart Strauss, Bruno Bauer, and Feuerbach. 251 However (and this was confirmed by Nikanor), Makarii had heard only of Kant. Nikanor's teaching style was very symptomatic. Temperamentally he was closer to Afanasii than to Makarii. He had a sarcastic and bilious character, which tortured him and others. All contradictions, he was a typical representative of a transitional epoch. Nikanor's designs were always conservative. In St. Petersburg in those years, when it was customary "to be frightened of Filaret," he disliked and feared Filaret of Moscow. Nikanor regarded Pratasov as a benefactor to theological awakening and scholarship. It appears that he gave "a needed shove to theological construction" in the academies and saved theology from a meddlesome censorship. Nevertheless, Nikanor's theological views were very close to those of Filaret.

Nikanor was a man of philosophical temperament. For many years he labored on this three volume system of philosophy, Positive Theology and Supernatural Revelation [Polozhitel naia filosofiia i sverkhestestvennoe otkrovenie, St. Petersburg]. His system did not succeed, for it is only an eclectic compilation in the spirit of the most diffuse "Platonism." But one detects a genuine intellectual inquisitiveness. It was no accident that Nikanor was preoccupied with apologetics (and with arguments against the positivists), for he required a speculative and critical "justification of faith: ' Nikanor had to pass through a difficult trial of doubt, through the darkness of wavering faith. Many things appeared differently in the judgment of "science" than from the standpoint of rigorist Orthodoxy. In the eyes of a person of such questions and weaknesses, the moribund bookishness of Makarii's dogmatics seemed needless and useless. Beneath a superficial similarity of formal method it is easy to discover deep differences between Nikanor and Makarii. The most scholastic of all Nikanor's books is his Survey of Roman Catholic teaching on the actual supremacy in the Church [Razbor rimskago ucheniia o vidimon glavenstve v tserkvi]. 252 It is an analysis of texts from the New Testament, patristic writings, and writings of historians of the first three centuries and is divided into sections, subsections, paragraphs, and individual points. Yet throughout the book the author's presence can be seen and felt shaping and pondering the arguments and citations. The reader's thoughts are caught up in the same vital process of proofs. Nikanor's exposition never descends to a mere recitation or becomes a lifeless "chain." Of course this was a question of scholarly temperament. Nikanor's mind was sharp and decisive. Both his theology and his sermons were very daring. In this connection the series of sermons on the Holy Covenant (given at the end of the 1870's) is very interesting, and in them Nikanor is very much reminiscent of Filaret. The original Covenant was concluded from eternity in the bosom of the Tri-hypostatic Godhead and not without bloodshed (see Hebrews, Chapters IX and X). The blood of the eternal Covenant flowed from eternity, the cup of limitless anger was quaffed, the very cry of the Cross echoed in eternity. Everything was completed "for the eternal God was accomplished in eternity." The events on earth are only a reflection. "In heaven and in eternity the actual creative redemptive and saving Covenant was accomplished." Before all time the Immaculate Virgin had been elevated to God's heavenly temple. "Before all ages she stood as intercessor between the world, men, the incarnate Son of God, and the Godhead . . ."

Ioann Sokolov (1818-1860) must be discussed together with Nikanor. (Ioann died as bishop of Smolensk). Of a sternly moral nature and a sharp mind, he was "a remarkably well-educated but violent man." In the era of the Great Reforms, 253 he spoke with unexpected courage and directness about Christian justice, the renewal of life, and daily social injustice. "So as not to keep an indifferent silence amidst those crying about life's social needs, in order that they might hear us," he suggested to Shchapov the theme of his public address, The voice of the ancient Russian Church on improving the lives of unfree people [Golos drevnei russkoi tserkvi obulushchenii byta nesvobodnykh liudei]. 0 Ioann was a canonist above all else. His Essay for a course on Church jurisprudence [Opyt kursa tserkovnago zakonovedeniia,.2 volumes, 1851] remains his most important scholarly work. True, it is not a "system" of law, only a study of sources. Ioann simply never succeeded in constructing a "system." It was said that the manuscript for the systematic volumes was detained in censorship. This does not diminish the importance of his book. For the first time the ancient and fundamental canons of the Church were presented in Russian more in historical than in doctrinal fashion Ioann continued to write on canonical themes, and later resumed his Essay in separate articles. Among these articles, his famous tract "On the monasticism of bishops" deserves special attention. 255 It was written at the request of the Over Procurator Akhmatov 256 in connection with discussions on a possible episcopate of lower clergy (only unmarried clergy, but without monastic vows). 257 This was Ioann's most personal writing. It was striking and forceful, but not very convincing. Filaret of Moscow found Ioann's research unfounded and far-fetched. Ioann overextended and overapplied his thesis to the relevant evidence. He speaks of "monasticism" in an almost metaphorical, nonformal sense. In his eyes any renunciation of the world is monasticism. The obligingness of such monasticism is not difficult to demonstrate, but not just for bishops, which Ioann failed to notice. But his own idea becomes much clearer when he says, "A bishop should be above the world, not only in `official' teaching, so to speak, but in personal thoughts." One must deny the world not only with body and soul, but with the spirit and intellect as well. One must achieve spiritual and intellectual freedom, a spiritual virginity.

Ioann was a very daring teacher of theology. He used Makarii's text only for examinations and came to the lecture hall with this book in his hands. But his own lectures are completely unlike Makarii's, and were more like free flowing conversations with his audience. They were not calculated to communicate all the necessary information or knowledge, nor to be memorized, but merely to arouse minds and turn students toward study and reflection on the subject matter. As a professor, Ioann was almost an impressionist, and his sentiments were not always adequately restrained and precise. He was too unsparingly critical. He did not like "mysticism" and spoke sharply against external ceremony as important only for the half educated and undeveloped. Ioann's mind was too forceful and powerful. As one of his audience in Kazan' accurately defined his manner in his lectures, Ioann said all that "natural reason can say about subjects communicated to us by Revelation." These were actually more like lectures in Christian philosophy than dogmatics as such. Ioann wished to use reason to attain Revelation; he did not proceed from it. Only a few of his lectures were published after his death and some of these were from student notes which he had examined. These lectures focus on fresh expression and freedom of thought and are presented with remarkable clarity and simplicity. Some people criticized him for being too taken up with novel and elegant constructions and not being really sincere. One perceives in Ioann's philosophical orientation the influence of his alma mater. He was from the Moscow Theological Academy.

The most influential teacher of dogmatics at that time was Filaret Gumilevskii (1805-1866). He was a man of outstanding gifts, a restless mind, and an anxious heart. Filaret very ably combined philosophical analysis and historical demonstration in his lectures on dogmatics. Rather than rely on the weight of authority to capture the mind in submissive obedience to faith, he tried to guide reason toward a suitable degree of internal evidence, in order to demonstrate how a mystery of Revelation, although it cannot be approached on the principles of reason, does not contradict its theoretical and practical needs. On the contrary, it aids them. "It heals any infirmity of reason caused by sin." This constant effort to demonstrate dogma as a truth of reason was very characteristic of Filaret. At the same time dogma is demonstrated in history.

As a teacher Filaret produced a profound impression on his audience. He did so with an organic blending of intellectual curiosity and a faith of the heart. His own personal vitality always shined through and exemplified his theology. "Try it and see — such is the way to knowledge in the Christian religion." He was referring to the sacraments and prayer. Theology was not just a vocation for Filaret, he needed it. It gave his lectures life. As the historian of the Moscow Academy said of him: "He began his teaching career with new approaches, including criticism of sources, philosophical considerations, history of dogma, and polemical refutations of opinions born in the rationalism of the Protestant west. These were new subjects for his audience." A new era was beginning at the academy. Filaret was at once a Biblicist and Patrologist (in his lectures he reviewed at length the Messianic texts in Hebrew). Unfortunately, he was able to teach only for a short time. While still a very young man, he was called to serve as bishop. Later he resumed writing and published a good deal. On Filaret Gumilevskii's initiative the academy decided to publish the writings of the Holy Fathers in Russian translation. The Academic Conference focused on the task, and the journal of the academy was known simply as The supplement to the works of the Holy Fathers [Pribavienie k tvoreniiam sviatykh ottsev] Athanasius, the Cappadocians, and also Ephrem the Syrian, the great Fathers of the fourth century, 258 were given first place. Filaret's textbook on patristics Historical teaching on the Fathers of the Church [Istoricheskoe uchenie ob ottsakh tserkvi, 1859] was published only much later. Filaret always regarded the writings of the Fathers as the living testimony of the Church, but he cautioned against any unwarranted identification between "historical teaching about the Fathers" and teaching about Tradition. Otherwise all patristic opinions must either be accepted as worthy of being considered Church teaching (which would be impossible in view of their disagreements) or else the real facts about the Fathers must be distorted by jettisoning all those features of their lives and writings which make them appear "ordinary." Such an act would mean complete arbitrariness in practice. "The Fathers of the Church upheld Tradition where necessary, just as they respectfully described the acts of the Church and private persons. They meditated on the Word of God, the articles of faith, and the rules of life; they argued and debated, philosophized, and labored as philologists, but in so doing they sometimes erred."

These aims for patrology did not coincide with the purposes for which Pratasov introduced "historical-theological instruction on the Fathers of the Church" into the curricula of the seminaries and academies. Filaret did not just accidentally omit the word "theological" from the title of his book. "History must be undiluted. On that basis it might be possible to draw a theological conclusion and abstract the Tradition witnessed in the writings of the Fathers." Therefore his book remained in the Synod. Moreover, Filaret also spoke very harshly about Peter Mogila and his Confession.

Pratasov's calculation to reverse or alter the direction of Russian theology proved incorrect. By that time Russian theological tradition was already too vital and strong. The Over Procurator's self-conceived and partisan plan crumbled beneath the weight of this inner opposition. This is clearly demonstrated by comparing that program and its implementation. Makarii's dogmatic theology was (to a certain degree) an official and officious program. But it was greeted with great hostility. Even when it was accepted as a textbook for its rich raw material, the author's own methods were rarely accepted. The "Makarii method" triumphed under Pobedonostsev 259 in the 1880's, when inertia was proclaimed a principle in life (a principle "which modern myopicwriters unthinkingly confuse with ignorance and stupidity"). However, even then the "victory" was only ephemeral. Pratasov might succeed in driving Filaret of Moscow from St. Petersburg and ostensibly remove him from Synodal affairs. All the same he was compelled to ask Filaret's opinion on every important and substantive question and send him for examination the majority of his projects and proposals. Filaret preserved sufficient influence, so that by his disagreements the Over Procurator's more meddlesome undertakings were laid to rest. Pratasov did introduce his new order and spirit into the St. Petersburg Academy. The Moscow Academy remained unaltered and without those changes for the new which consumed Pratasov. Philosophy continued its former course as did the study of Scripture and Hebrew. And at the very time when the inquisition was being conducted throughout Russia over the lithograph of Pavskii's translation, Filaret officially proposed to the Moscow Academic Conference that with the approval of the Conference and the knowledge of the diocesan hierarch all instructors be required to present in polished form at least some of their lessons to be lithographed or printed for use in the academy. The proposal had no practical results. Yet it was indicative that at the very moment when the newly opened Ecclesiastical-Educational Administration was attempting to call a halt to the independent work of teachers by placing required "textbooks" in their hands, Filaret continued to adhere to the spirit of the Alexandrine statutes that it was far more necessary to awaken thought and self-motivation in the students than to bind them with previously prepared formulae and phrases.

In 1845 Filaret once more raised the question of translating the Bible and gave the Holy Synod his famous note On the dogmatic merit and conservative function of the Greek Septuagint commentators and the Slavonic translation of Holy Scripture. 260 The note was composed very succinctly and deliberately. Filaret of Kiev, Grigorii Postnikov, and Gavriil Gorodkovyi, then archbishop of Riazan' 261 preliminarily examined it. Filaret wished to prevent the misuse of various Biblical texts. First of all he insisted that it was essential to use both the Septuagint and the Slavonic translation in correlation for the Old Testament. One should not be accepted as "self authentic," that is, original, and used in isolation, although the Septuagint should be the starting point. Both texts deserved to be accorded "dogmatic merit." Filaret proposed that a new edition of the Slavonic Bible be issued more suited to personal use and including a statement about the content of each chapter and explanatory notes. Filaret said less than he wished in his "note" in order to obtain the agreement of his friends, particularly Filaret of Kiev. They were opposed to the Russian translation and were reserved toward the Hebrew text. One could hardly expect Filaret of Kiev would be convinced. It was better to achieve a minimum firmly acceptable to all. In the 1860's the heated quarrel over Biblical texts again burst into flame — a belated epilogue to the debates of the 1840's. When the translation of the Old Testament was renewed in Alexander II's reign, Filaret's note was accepted as the guideline.

Pratasov's captivity of Russian theology did not last long, although it was enervating. He could celebrate victory solely in the sphere of Church-state relations. The new central administrative structure expanded and consolidated the Empire's influence and direct powers in the affairs and life of the Church.

Conclusion.

It is far from easy to give a general characterization of the ecclesiastical schools during the reigns of Alexander I and Nicholas I. The "pre-Reform" school has been described and redescribed in the harshest and somberist terms. The expose writers Pomialovskii, Rostislavov, and Nikitin all wrote about it. 262 The appraisal of such an incontestable "conservative" as V.I. Askochenskii 263 tallies exactly with their testimony. Askochenskii was also a "secular" judge. The rudeness of the "lowl bursak" confounded him, and he describes seminarians with aversion and cruelty as "crude cattle." Askochenskii's views hardly differed from those of Rostislavov. "A murderous character, a stunted mind, an empty heart, a preference for dire prophecies: these are the inheritance of youths who are entrapped in this inquisition of thought or any pure unfeigned feeling." Such was Askochenskii's cheerless conclusion. One must admit that there is a good deal of truth in such charges and condemnations. There were many serious defects. Moral coarseness was chief among them. It should be remembered that in those days the ecclesiastical schools were left in great poverty, disorder, and material insecurity. Even the professors at the academies lived in extremely tight circumstances and poverty. The percentage of graduates fell to nearly half. One frequently encounters remarkable entries in the class journals about absences "because running away was noted" or "for not possessing clothes." The Statute's high standards were often totally unfulfilled. After all, the statute required that not just memory, but understanding, be developed in the students. However, rote memorization remained the norm. Formalism, rhetorics, convention prevailed.

In the final analysis, such undoubted defects did not sap the creative vigor of those generations. The positive historical and cultural significance of the "pre-Reform" schools must be acknowledged and highly valued. For this school network served as the social basis for the entire development and expansion of Russian culture in the nineteenth century. Not until the 1840's did the secular schools very slowly gain strength. The Kazan' gymnasium and even the Kazan' University (as S.T. Aksakov 264 described them) were far behind the seminaries, not to mention the reformed academies. For decades in diverse fields the "seminarist" remained the sole engineer of the Russian enlightenment. In a fundamental sense, the history of Russian science and learning were tied to the ecclesiastical schools and the clerical class. An examination of the lists of Russian professors for any specialization reveals two categories: "seminarist" and "foreigner" (usually of German or Swedish origin; more rarely, Polish) along with an infrequent representative of the nobility or bureaucrat. Until only very recently the clear echoes and traces of this clerical education could be discerned in Russia's academic and literary psychology. It was a source of both strength and weakness — of creative curiosity and of careless maximalism. In this regard, the first half of the century was a decisive epoch. The generations educated at that time were the actors at midcentury and later, during those anxious decades of the "emancipation" and "impoverishment," when (with the arrival of the so-called raznochinets) 265 the social basis of the Russian enlightenment began to expand rapidly. Actually, the raznochinets, or one of "mixed rank," was usually a seminarist.

The first half of the century was also decisive in the history of both Russian theology and Russian philosophy. The abundant creative energy is simply staggering: a series of forceful and prominent personalities; a reverberating throng surrounding a leader; students and followers rallying behind a teacher. Such is normally the case in an era of significant themes. The question of Russian theology's existence was decided then, and it was answered with a creative "yes." We can trace the victories step by step. Unquestionably one outcome of this period of quarreling and brawling over the Bible was a more responsible attitude toward the Holy Scripture. A solid foundation for Russian Biblical scholarship and Biblical theology was laid precisely during this time. This was not a matter of simple erudition or merely of concern to a few. The Statute of 1814 required that all students read Scripture. Characteristically, the very aim of the ecclesiastical school was left deliberately vague: "the education of pious and enlightened servants of the Word of God." Special hours set aside for reading Scriptures were divided into reading "at a normal speed" and "deliberate" reading accompanied by explanations, so that "the chief passages for theological truth" (the so-called sedes doctrinae) could be noted and analyzed. Hermeneutics — theologia hermeneutica — was the foundation stone of all theology. Moreover, the students were expected to read the Bible "on their own." Such reading was linked with, and great attention given to, Biblical languages, not just Greek, but Hebrew. True, during the "return to the time of scholasticism," the study of Hebrew fell under suspicion. Was not this language of apostate Jews now a weapon of heresy and neology? Even Holy Scripture was read less frequently. Elementary instruction in catechisms suffered most, for one feared to read the Gospels to children. Nonetheless, a durable Biblical foundation was laid. The first positive outcome of this transitional period was a vital sense of Divine Revelation, or to put it another way, an intuitive sense of sacred history.

A second outcome was no less important. Contemporary theological tradition organically linked a philosophical perspective and the testimony of Revelation, that is, "philosophy" and "theology" were combined. This will be discussed in detail later.

Pratasov's "reform" actually strengthened the third outcome: the awakening of the historical sense — one of the most characteristic and distinctive traits of Russia's development in the nineteenth century. In part it was still the historicism of the eighteenth century, a sentimental survival of a bygone era, with its archeological curiosity about the past, its sense of ruin and desolation. Yet, the Statute of 1814 laid special stress on "that which is called philosophy of history," in order to arouse a dynamic response to life. Modern German philosophy greatly spurred it on. A religious interest in the past — a sense of Tradition — was awakened.

For all its shortcomings and infirmities, the ecclesiastical school was classical and humanitarian. It was the sole link uniting Russian culture and scholarship with the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. It also provided a solid knowledge of classical languages (and to a lesser degree Hebrew). Greek met a sad fate in the public school. In 1826 it was deemed a superfluous luxury, although it remained in the program. In 1851 it was completely eliminated in all gymnasia except those in university towns, in cities with Greek settlements, and in the Dorpat school district. The hours for studying natural science had to be found somewhere. A great quarrel over Greek arose between Prince Shirinskii-Shikhmatov, 266 the Minister of Education, and the Assistant Minister, A.S. Norov, 267 although they shared a common clerical spirit. The minister feared that youths would slip their Christian moorings if they read pagan authors. Norov, however, was convinced that Greek "directs youths" minds to the exalted and the sublime," deflects them from reading harmful and useless books, and is the primary language of the Orthodox Eastern Church. In any case, the Fathers, from Clement of Rome to Chrysostom, were added to the curriculum. In 1871 Greek was revived in the gymnasia with greatly expanded hours of instruction. An explanatory note laid great stress on the fact that knowledge of Greek makes it possible to read the Gospels, the Fathers, and the liturgical canons in their original language, "which makes our school learning precious to the people." In reality, grammar was taught and the authors read were largely non-Christian.

One final outcome remains to be noted. Publication of theological books rapidly increased. Theology journals flourished; numerous individual works appeared, and not just textbooks and collections of sermons and addresses. The best productions of the schools, that is, master's dissertations. were normally published. One should remember that in general the schools, particularly the ecclesiastical schools, devoted special attention to the students' writing and literary style. The academies particularly tried to develop a writer's' gift and skill. Translation, for the most part in classical languages, but also in modern ones, was also drilled into the students. Thus, the ecclesiastical schools passed Russian thought through a philological and literary training, thereby facilitating the rapid growth of scholarly, theological journalism in the next period. In general by the 1860's, the Russian theologian was on the same level with his western counterpart. The entire journey was made in the first half of the century.

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Appendix.

Notes to Chapter I.

1. E. Golubinskii (1834-1912), a historian of the Russian Church, wrote a History of the Russian Church [Istoriia Russkoi tserkvi] (Moscow, 1880-1916), 4 vols.

2. Peter the Great, or Peter I (1672-1725) "revolutionized" Russia by introducing Western technology, transferring the capital from Moscow to St. Petersburg (Leningrad), by reforming the military system and by greatly reducing the power and authority of the Russian Orthodox Church. He abolished the patriarchate in 1721 and transformed the Church administration into a wing of the State. The former patriarchate became the "Holy Governing Synod." Many of Peter's Church "reforms" were patterned after the Swedish Protestant Church.

3. V.O. Kliuchevskii (1841-1911), a professor of history at the University of Moscow, wrote a five volume History of Russia [Kurs Russkoi istorii]. His doctoral dissertation was on the Muscovite boyar duma.

4. The Questions of Kirik, a historically revealing composition from the mid 12th century, is replete with a legalistic, primitive and ritualistic approach to Christianity by the Russian clergy. The document consists of 101 questions asked by a group of Novgorodian priests (Kirik's name headed the list) and answered by Bishop Nifont. The primitive spirit of this work differs radically from the liberal, more universal spirit of Vladimir Monomakh's Instruction [Rouchenie] to his sons. Two other similar compositions of "questions and answers" on ritual come from this period: The Precept of the Holy Fathers to the Confessing Sons and Daughters and The Canonical Answers of Metr. Ioann II of Kiev.

5. The Pouchenie [Instruction] was one of the most interesting pieces of literature in Old Russia. For an analysis of the Pouchenie see volume III in Nordland's The Collected Works of George P. Fedotov, entitled The Russian Religious Mind (I): Kievan Christianity, pages 244-264.

6. Vladimir Monomakh or Vladimir II (1053-1125), the son of Prince Iaroslav and Irina, daughter of the Byzantine Emperor Constantine IX Monomachos, was an energetic statesman, a gifted writer and a skillful military leader. Vladimir's international connections are noteworthy: his mother was a Byzantine princess; an uncle married a Polish princess; one aunt married Henry I of France, another the King of Norway, a third the King of Hungary. Vladimir himself married the daughter of King Harold of England. His oldest son married the daughter of the King of Sweden; his daughter married the King of Hungary; and a grand-daughter married into the Byzantine Comneni imperial family. It is noteworthy that Vladimir's son had three names: a Greek Christian name (George); a Slavic name (Mstislav); and an Old Norse name (Harold).

7. The reference is to E.N. Trubetskoi's Umozrenie v kraskokh (Moscow, 1916), published in English by Saint Vladimir's Seminary Press as Icons: Theology in Color.

8. Petr I. Chaadaev (1794-1856), an intellectual whose thoughts on Russian history and culture ignited the controversy between the Westernizers and the Slavophiles, wrote a venomous criticism of Russia in French in 8 letters, entitled Lettres Philosophiques (1827-1831). The first letter, in which the term "la miserable Byzance" occurred, was published in Russian translation in Teleskop in 1836. Emperor Nikolai I (1796-1855) declared Chaadaev insane and placed him under house arrest. See Sochineniia i pis'ma. P. Ia. Chaadaeva, ed. M. Gershenzon (Moscow, 1913), 2 vols.

9. See Part II of Deno J. Geanakopolos' Byzantine East and Latin West: Two Worlds of Christendom in Middle Ages and Renaissance (New York: Harper & Row, 1966).

10. St. Vladimir or Vladimir I (c. 956-1015), son of the Viking-Russian prince Sviatoslav and one of his courtesans, consolidated the Russian realm from the Ukraine to the Baltic. Although Christianity already existed to some extent in Kiev, it was Vladimir's Byzantine baptism, which established the date of the "conversion" of Russia, bringing Russia into the orbit of Greek Orthodox Christianity.

11. Tsar Aleksei Mikhailovich (1629-1676), son of the first Romanov Tsar (Mikhail), reigned from 1645-1676. Tsar Aleksei approved Patriarch Nikon's "reforms," the result of which led to a schism in the Russian Orthodox Church.

12. On the baptism of Russia, see N. de Baumgarten, Saint Vladimir et la conversion de la Russie (Rome: Orientalia Christiana, vol. XXVII, 1932). For possible Scandinavian influence see R. Haugh, "St. Vladimir and Olaf Tryggvason: The Russian Primary Chronicle and Gunnlaug Leifson's Saga of Olaf Tryggvason" in vol. VIII of Transactions of the Association of Russian-American Scholars (New York, 1974), 83-96.

13. Vladimir S. Solov'ev (1853-1900), a mystic, poet, theologian and ecumenist, was perhaps Russia's most gifted and most original philosopher.

14. Tsar Simeon of Bulgaria (893-927) waged constant war on Byzantium; his goal was the imperial crown and the creation of a new empire centered in Bulgaria, an empire which would replace Byzantium. In 913 Simeon was crowned Emperor by Patriarch Nicholas Mysticos. The validity of Simeon's coronation was later disallowed, although Simeon, according to Romanos I (Lecapenos), called himself "Emperor of the Bulgarians and Romans."

15. SS. Cyril (Constantine) (c. 827-869) and Methodius (c. 825-884) were brothers born in Thessalonica whose father Leo was a Byzantine drungarios. Thessalonica was populated by many Slavs whose language the two brothers learned. The brothers became missionaries to the Slavs and because of their role in Christianizing the Danubian Slavs and their enormous influence on all Slavic peoples, the brothers received the titles "apostles of the Slavs" and "doctors." They translated Scripture into the Old Bulgarian "Slavonic" and for this they devised an alphabet which, in its final form, came to be known as Cyrillic.

16. This was the view of N.K. Nikol'skii and, in part, of Priselkov. [Author's Note]. Bogomilism was a medieval heresy, the roots of which can be traced to Paulicianism and Manichaeism. In the 8th century the Byzantines resettled groups of Paulicians in Thrace. Bogomilism, the meaning of which came from the leader Bogomil ("pleasing God") purportedly arose from this. The central teaching of the Bogomils was that the visible, physical world was created by the devil. Hence, they essentially denied the Christian doctrine of Incarnation and the Christian belief that matter was a vehicle of grace. They therefore rejected baptism, the eucharist, marriage, the eating of meat and drinking of wine, and the entire hierarchical structure and organization of the established Church (although they had their own hierarchy).

17. Cosmas, a Bulgarian priest, wrote a treatise on the Bogomils entitled Slovo sviatago Kozmi prezvitera na heretiki prepenie i pouchenie ot bozhestvennikh knig. It was edited by M.G. Popruchenko and published in Kozma Presbyter bolgarski pisatel' X veka (Sofia, 1936). A French translation exists: Puech and Vaillant, Le traite contre les Bogomiles de Cosmas le pretre (Paris, 1945).

18. The Monastery of the Caves (or Pecherskaia Lavra), founded by St. Feodosii and St. Antonii, is still a noted sight in Kiev. For a description of life in this monastery see The Russian Primary Chronicle, trans. 2nd ed. by Cross and Sherbowitz-Wetzor (Cambridge, Ma.: The Medieval Academy of America, 1953), p. 139 ff. See also the Paterikon (i.e. a collection of the lives of inhabitants of the monastery) edited by D.I. Abramovich, Paterik, Kievo-Pecherskogo monastyria (St. Petersburg, 1911).

19. St. Feodosii (Theodosius), the father of coenobitic or communal monasticism in Russia, was the first "monk-saint" canonized by the Russian Orthodox Church. See Vol. II in Nordland's The Collected Works of George P. Fedotov entitled A Treasury of Russian Spirituality, pp. 11-49.

20. The Studion or Studios Monastery in Constantinople, established in 463 by the Roman consul Studios, became famous mainly through the efforts of St. Theodore the Studite (d. 826) who merged the coenbitic rule of St. Basil with the spirituality of Palestine. The Studite rule (see Patrologia Graeca 99, 1703-1720) reached Russia via Mt. Athos. Destroyed by Crusaders in 1204, rebuilt in 1290, destroyed again in 1453, only parts of the monastery remain and they form the Mosque of Imrahar.

21. St. Simeon the New Theologian (949-1022), a Byzantine mystic, prepared the way for the later blossoming of hesychastic mysticism. By using certain methods of prayer, Saint Simeon believed one could achieve an inner illumination and directly experience a vision of Divine light. The focal point of a rivalry between the secular and monastic groups in Constantinople, Saint Simeon was exiled in 1009 by the patriarch. The ban was later lifted but he refused to leave Saint Marina Monastery. His mystical poems became classics of Eastern Christian spirituality. See the recent English translation by G.A. Maloney, S.J. of Hymns of Divine Gove (Denville, N.J.: Dimension Books, no date).

22. G.G. Shpet and G.P. Fedotov subscribe to this view [Author's note].

23. Ivan V. Kireevskii (1806-1856), a noted Slavophile critic and editor, helped establish the journals Evropeets [The European] andMoskovskii sbornik (1852). In the latter he published his famous article "On the Nature of European Culture and it's Relation to the Culture of Russia."

24. V. Jagic (1838-1923) was a Serbian Slavist and philologist who taught at the Universities of Odessa, Berlin, St. Petersburg and Vienna. His chief work is Istoriia slavianskoi filologii (St. Petersburg, 1910), and he also did extensive work on early Slavonic manuscripts.

25. Iaroslav I or "the Wise" (980-1054), Grand Prince of Kiev from 1019, promoted Christian culture in Russia by having Greek religious works translated into Slavic and by establishing new churches and monasteries.

26. The "Holy Mountain" was inhabited by hermits as early as the ninth century. In 963 the monk Athanasius of Trebizond, with assistance from Emperor Nicephoras II Phocas, established the first regular monastery there, the Great Lavra. John Tzimsces granted it a charter in 971, and over the next few centuries Mount Athos grew to become the spiritual center of the Orthodox world with 19 monasteries founded by the year 1400, including the Russian monastery of St. Panteleimon.

27. Ilarion, the first native, non-Greek metropolitan of Kiev (c.1051), was elected uncanonically by Iaroslav and Russian bishops, an indication of the growing autonomy of the Russtan church and a result of Iaroslav's quarrel with Byzantium. Ilarion has also left a Confession of Faith which Fedotov suspects of practical docetic monophysitism (see vol. III in Nordland's The Collected Works of George P. Fedotov, p. 85 ff.).

28. N. M. Karamzin (1766-1826), a Russian historian, poet and journalist, was appointed court historian by Alexander I. His 12 volume Istoriia gosudarstva Rossiiskogo [History of the Russian State], which ended with the accession of Mikhail Romanov in 1613, was both a literary landmark and a defense of autocratic absolutism. His memoir was translated and edited by Richard Pipes as Karamzin's Memoir on Ancient and Modern Russia: A Translation and an Analysis (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1959).

29. Kirill of Turov (1130-1189), who flourished in the mid 12th century, absorbed well both Byzantine literary style and theological emphases. Of his extant letters, prayers and sermons, the latter have been historically the most significant, finding their way into the Torzhestvennik [Panegyrikon], a collection of "worthy" sermons to correspond with the Church calendar. Of his original views, those on the atonement and ascension are perhaps most noteworthy.

30. Klimentii Smoliatich, metropolitan of Kiev from 1147-1155, has left us only a fragment (a letter to a priest named Foma). Klimentii's main concern is to defend the allegorical method of Biblical exegesis. He, however, shows no originality and, in fact, quotes from no secular sources. He was totally dependent. on his Greek sources.

31. St. Avraamii, an enigmatic personality, is best known for his severe eschatological thought. He painted two icons (one on "The Second Coming"; the other on "The Judgement") and probably authored the Sermon of the Celestial Powers. See vol. III of Nordland's The Collected Works of George P. Fedotov, pp. 158-175.

32. In 1215 the Tatars overthrew the Chinese empire and in 1219-1220 they overcame the Moslems of Khorezm, the result of which was to unite all Turkic-Tatar peoples of Central Asia. They then subjugated the Georgians, Ossetians and other peoples of the Caucasus. Terrified, the Polovtsy and Russians united to attack the Tatars near the Kalka river. The Tatars afflicted the Russian forces with a devastating defeat. Seven years later the Tatars returned, each year penetrating further into Russian territory until Kiev was sacked in 1240 and Novgorod submitted to Tatar demands in 1259. For two centuries the Russians were under the constant control of the Tatars.

33. See V.M. Istrin, Ocherk istorii drevne-russkoi literatury (1922) and his Izsledovaniia v oblasti drevne-russkoi literatury (1906) [Author's note].

34. A Paterikon was a collection of quotations from worthy "Fathers" on the lives of worthy inhabitants in a specific monastery, often omitting any source reference. Pateriki were numerous in Old Russia.

35. Palaea, collections of Biblical history often replacing the historical books of the Old Testament, often merged canonical Biblical texts with apocryphal and, at times, even non-religious writings.

36. The Palaeologi Byzantine dynasty (1261-1453), established after the Crusades by Michael VIII Palaeologos (1259-1282), witnessed a flourishing of both religious and secular cultural life — especially under Andronikes II (1282-1328) — while Byzantium itself was in its declining years. Both the Slavic north and the Latin west reaped some of the harvest of this last Byzantine "renaissance." Although numerous persons particiated in this cultural renaissance the contributions of three persons will indicate the breadth of this rebirth: 1) Maximos Planudes (d. 1310), a writer of poetry and essays, was also an editor and translator. He annotated Sophocles, Euripides, Hesiod, Aesop's Fables and a critical Greek Anthology. He also worked on the text of Plutarch's Moralia and translated — inter alia — Augustine's De Trinitate, Boethius' De Consolatione philosophiae and Cato's Dicta; 2) Demetrios Cydones (d.c. 139&), attracted to Latin scholasticism and a convert (1365) to Latin Christianity, translated Thomas Aquinas' Summa Theologiae. He has left 447 valuable letters and his two "Exhortations" unsuccessfully urged the Byzantines to unite with the Latin west in order to prevent the Turkish conquest; 3) Theodore Metochites (d.1332), a statesman, scholar, scientist and poet, wrote an account of his travels in Serbia while negotiating with the Serbs. His commentaries on the Dialogues of Plato aided the 15th century Platonic renaissance in the West and his Miscellanea philosophica et istorica (ed. by Muller and Kiessling in 1821 in Leipzig) contains 120 essays on philosophical, political, moral, historical and aesthetic subjects.

37. Euthymius of Trnovo (c. 1317-c. 1402), a monk and spokesman for Hesychasm, was also a scholar and linguist. His translations of liturgical and canonical texts into Old Slavonic (an Ustav of the Liturgy of John Chrysostom and a Sluzhebnik which corrected and brought uniformity to liturgical texts) sparked the late medieval Slavonic renaissance. In 1375 he was elected Patriarch of Trnovo and hence became the primate of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church. When Trnovo fell to the Turks in 1393, he went into exile.

38. Patriarch Philotheus (c. 1300-1379), an ardent defender of Gregory Palamas and Hesychasm, staunchly opposed union with Rome. Author of several works, exegesis and lives of saints, he also wrote works against the thought of Akindynos and Barlaam and 15 Antirrhetica [Diatribes] against the historian Nicephorus Gregoras. The most important Palamite work, the Hagioritic Tome, a work used by Palamas himself in his own defense, was also authored by Philotheus. In 1353 he became Patriarch but later was imprisoned on a charge of treason. In 1364 he was reappointed Patriarch. Mainly through his efforts the concrete reality of Constantinople's supremacy over the Eastern Chruch was furthered and the Orthodox Slavs were consolidated under the Greek Patriarchate.

39. Gregory Palamas (c. 1296-1359), one of the most controversial thinkers in the history of Christianity, was the theologian of the Byzantine contemplative movement known as Hesychasm (hesychia — state of quiet), a movement which held that it was possible in this life to behold the vision of God, to experience God through his uncreated grace, through his Divine energies. The Hesychastic ascetical method, which combined repetitive prayer formulas with bodily postures and controlled breathing, was opposed by both Latin Christians and Byzantine Humanists. The Western view of grace as both created and supernatural found Palamas' teaching especially offensive. See John Meyendorff, A Study of Gregory Palamas (London, 1964).

40. The "Non-possessors" [nestiazhateli] , known as the Transvolgan elders [zavolzhskie startsy], believed that monasteries should follow the rule of poverty and not try to possess either land or money.

41. St. Basil (c. 329-379), one of the most important persons in the history of Christianity, has left his mark on doctrine, liturgy, canon law and asceticism. He worked tirelessly to bring the Arians and semi-Arians back to Nicaean Orthodoxy, a mission ultimately crowned with success posthumously at the Second Ecumenical Council (Constantinople I) in 381. He, his younger brother St. Gregory of Nyssa and St. Gregory of Nazianzus are known as the "Cappadocian Fathers."

42. Diadochus of Photice, about whose life little is known, died c. 468. Of his four extant works, the most important work and one which had a profound influence on later Eastern Christianity, especially Russian, was De perfectione spirituali capita centum [One Hundred Chapters on Spiritual Perfection] ; it was printed in the Russian Philokalia.

43. Isaac the Syrian or Isaac of Nineveh (d. c. 700), a Syrian bishop, theologian and monk, is venerated as a saint by Eastern Christianity even though he passed his life as a Nestorian. He was a Nestorian bishop, however, for only five months. He then resigned and returned to monastic life. His numerous works, which were a basic source for both Eastern and Western Christianity, had a powerful influence on Russian spirituality.

44. Hesychius of Jerusalem (d. c. 450), renowned in Eastern Christianity as a theologian and Biblical commentator, wrote — according to the Menologion — commentaries on the entire Bible, the method of which was entirely allegorical. He played an important role in the Christological controversies of the 5th century reputedly rejecting all philosophical terms except logos sarkoutheis [The Word became flesh]. Among other works, he wrote a church history, a portion of which was read at the Fifth Ecumenical Council (553).

45. St. John Climacus (579-649), the details of whose life are little known, wrote his Heavenly Ladder while abbot of Mt. Sinai monastery. The Ladder, one of the most widely used handbooks of the ascetic life in Eastern Christianity, greatly influenced the Hesychasts and Slavic monasticism. As the title reveals, the ascetic life is seen as an ascent; the 30 steps of the ladder represent the 30 non-public years of Christ's life. See PG 88, 632-1161; also Ladder of Divine Ascent, tr. L. Moore (New York, 1959).

46. Maximus the Confessor (c. 580-662), the most important Byzantine theologian of the 7th century influenced the whole of medieval theology and mysticism in the East. He is best known for his contribution to the development of Christology by opposing monothelitism (the belief that Christ had but one will and that was divine). Imprisoned from 653-655, Maximus was later tortured and exiled.

47. See note 21.

48. Philipp the recluse was an eaily tvelfth centuiy Greek wiiter. His Dioptra or Guide for the Christian, in the Bibliotheque des Peres, is a dialogue between the soul and the ilesh.

49. The reference is to the mysterious genius who flourished at the end of the Sth century and called himself Dionysius the Areopagite, the name of one of St. Paul's converts in Athens (Acts 17:34). The unknown Dionysius wrote the Celestial and Ecclesiaatical Hierarchy, Divine Names of God and Mystical Theology. These writings became critically important for the theology and spirituality of Eastern Christianity. These works also became important later in the Latin West.

50. St. Sergei of Radonezh (1314-1392), who left an enormous oral influence on Russian spirituality, established the Trinity Monastery in Radonezh which became a center of spiritual, cultural and economic life. It served as a base of missionary and colonizing activity in the Russian North. (See Nordland's English edition entitled The 'Vita' of St. Sergii of Radonezh: Introduction, Translation, Notes, ed. by M. Klimenko).

51. Theophanes the Greek (c. 1335-1405), a prominent Byzantine painter of icons, murals and miniatures, worked in Russia after 1370 where his influence was great (Andrei Rublev was one of his followers.). Although he closely followed Byzantine standards, he also assimilated specific features of Russian art. The frescoes in the Novgorodian Church of the Transfiguration are his.

52. The Council of Ferrara-Florence (1438-1445), recognized by the Roman Church as the 17th Ecumenical Council, was the continuation of the significant Council of Basel. Pope Eugenius IV had it transferred to Ferrara and, when a plague hit there, it was moved to Florence. The Greeks ultimately accepted the Latin statements on the procession of the Holy Spirit, on purgatory, the Eucharist and papal primacy (only Mark Eugenicus, metropolitan of Ephesus, refused to sign). The pronouncement on union (Laetentur Caeli) was signed on July 6, 1439. Upon returning to Greek territory, 21 of the 29 who signed renounced the union and their signatures. When Constantinople fell to the Turks on May 29, 1453, the few Greek advocates of union fled to Italy.

53. Isidore (c. 1385-1463), a Greek, was sent to the Council of Basel (1434) as an imperial "Byzantine" envoy with the purpose of arranging a new council in Constantinople. He was unsuccessful, and, upon returning, was sent to Russia as metropolitan of Kiev and hence the head of the Russian Church. Again his mission was to work for union. Attending the Council of Ferrara-Florence without Grand Prince Vasilii II's support, he helped Bessarion draw up the decree of union. Shortly thereafter, he was made Cardinal and returned to Russia where he was convicted of apostasy by an ecclesiastical court and imprisoned. On Easter 1444 he escaped and fled westward. Returning to Constantinople shortly before its fall, he was wounded during the siege but managed to flee to Rome where he wrote a description of the sack of Constantinople in his Epistula lugubris [Sorrowful Letter]. Pope Pius II conferred on him the honorary title of Greek Patriarch of Constantinople. His valuable extant works were edited in 1926 by G. Mercati as Scritti d’Isidore il cardinale ruteno (Studi e Testi, 46).

54. Andrei M. Kurbskii (1528-1583), prince, boyar, military commander and close associate of Ivan IV the Terrible, later defected to Poland wlien he fell out of favor with Ivan. He reputedly wrote religious works (defending Orthodoxy in Lithuania), A History of the Grand Prince of Moscow [Istoriia o velikom kniaze moskovskom] and an excnange of letters with Ivan (see the English translation by J.L.I. Fennell). Recently serious doubt has been cast on the authenticity of these letters. See Edward L. Keenan, The Kurbskii-Groznyi Apocrypha (Cambridge, Mass., 1971). See also below, Chapter II, section II.

55. Iosif Volotskii (or "of Volokolamsk") (1439-1515), often termed "the Father of Medieval Russia," had an influentially active life and exerted a powerful influence on Russian spiritual thought. He opposed the Judaizers (advocating the death penalty for incorrigible heretics), defended the right of monasteries to own property and held an interesting theory of the divine right of kings. His thought is expressed in his Prosvetitel [The Enlightener]. See below.

56. Filofei, a monk from the Eleazar Monastery in Pskov, sketched this theory in a letter to Tsar Vasilii III in 1510/1511. For the text see the appendix of V. Malinin, Starets Eleazarova monastyria Filofei i ego poslaniia (Kiev, 1901). On the "Third Rome Theory" see W.K. Medlin, Moscow and East Rome (Neuchatel, 1952) and H. Schaeder, Moskav das Dritte Rom (Hamburg, 1929).

57. Chiliasm (from the Greek chilias meaning 1,000), also known by its Latin form (millenarianism), was (and still is) a school of thought which believes that Christ will rule visibly on earth for 1,000 years. Although there are many variations of chiliasm, they derive their original inspiration from a literal interpretation of the 20th chapter of Revelation.

58. N.F. Kapterev (1847-1917), a Russian historian, was best known for his studies on Nikon. See Patriarkh Nikon i tsar' Aleksei Mikhailovich (2 vols:, Sergiev Posad, 1909-1912).

59. "Hagarene" referred to those holding the Islamic faith, in this case the Turks. The derivation is from Hagar, Abraham's concubine and the mother of Ishmael (Gen. 16:1-16; 21:8-21). One legend claims that Ishmael was the ancestor of Muhammed.

60. In his Ecclesiastical History (3,1) Eusebius of Caesarea (d.c. 339), the "Father of Church History," established a tradition based on a report by Origen (d. 253) that the Apostle Andrew had preached in Scythia. The Russian Primary Chronicle added to that tradition: "(Andrew) . . . journeyed up the mouth of the Dnieper . . . he observed to the disciples who were with him: `See ye these hills? So shall the favor of God shine upon them that on this spot a great city shall arise, and God shall erect many churches therein.' He drew near the hills, and having blessed them, he set up a cross. . . Kiev was subsequently built (there) . . . He then reached the Slavs at the point where Novgorod is now situated . . . He went thence among the Varangians and came to Rome" (Cross and Sherbowitz-Wetzor, The Russian Primary Chronicle [Cambridge: The Medieval Academy of America], p. 54). The significance of this legend was that it could later be claimed — whether accurate or not — that Russia had an apostolic founding perhaps even earlier than Rome and at least as apostolic as Constantinople's. See F. Dvornik, The Idea of Apostolicity in Byzantium and the Legend of the Apostle Andrew (Cambridge, 1958).

61. In 1469 Cardinal Bessarion wrote from Rome and offered the hand of his ward, Zoe Palaeologus (niece of the last Byzantine emperor), to Ivan in marriage. Three years later Zoe married Ivan and took the name Sofia.

62. Bessarion (1403-1472), former hegumen of St. Basil's Monastery in Con-Notes to Chapter I 279 stantinople and archbishop of Nicaea at the time of the Council of Florence was the leader of the pro-union party in the Greek church and was instrumental in obtaining the approval of many Greek sepresentatives to the terms of the council. After failing to win the support of his pe6ple in Constantinople for the union, he returned to Florence in 1440, was made a cardinal, arid upon the death of Isidore in 1463 he was made Uniate patriarch of Constantinople. His collections of Greek literature, both classical and patristic, were a profound contribution to the Italian renaissance.

63. Baron Sigismund von Herberstein (1486-1566) entered the service of Emperor Maximillian I in 1514. He twice visited Muscovite Russia (1517 and 1526), the result of which was a book of his observations, a work which was extremely inlluential in forming Western views of Russia: Rerum Moscoviticarum Commentarii. At least two English translations exist: one by O.P. Backus (University of Kansas Press, 1956); another by J.B.C. Grundy (Dent, London, 1969).

64. Aristotle Fioravanti of Bologna, a well-known architect and engineer in northern Italy, accepted an invitation from Prince Simeon Tolbutsin to go to Russia in 1475 where he remained until his death.

65.Aloisio or Alevis Novi, the "New," to distinguish him from an earlier Alevisio who had worked in Russia from 1494, was summoned by Ivan III in 1505 to rebuild the old Cathedral of St. Michael the Archangel.

66. Pietro Antonio Solario, along with Marco Ruffo, directed the rebuilding of the Kremlin walls entirely in red brick (1485) and built the famous Faceted Palace [Granovitaia Palata], erected between 1487 and 1491.

67. Suleiman I (c. 1494-1566), under whom the Ottomans flourished culturally and militarily, conquered Belgrade (1521), Rhodes (1522), the Hungarians (1526), Iraq (1534-1535), regions of Persia and Tripoli (1551).

68. Princess Elena Glinskaia, a Lithuanian living as a refugee in the Russian court, so charmed her new husband by her youth and beauty, it is claimed, he shaved off his beard to please her, something the Orthodox Church then considered sinful, or at least highly questionable.

69. See below, section VI.

70. I. Zabelin (1820-1909) was a well-known Russian historian.

71. The strigol niki ["shorn-heads"] were members of a mid 14th century heretical movement dominant in Novgorod. Little reliable information is extant because the movement was stopped and their writings destroyed. See the study by A.I. Klibanov, Reformatsionnye dvizheniia v Rossii v XIV- pervoi polovine XVI vv. (Moscow, 1960), 118-136.

72. Gennadii (d. after 1504), who became archbishop of Novgorod in 1485, convened 3 synods to stop heretical movements (especially the Judaizers). To counteract the influence of the Judaizers, who were distributing Russian translations of the Psalms, Gennadii organized the undertaking of the first Russian translation of the Bible. He was also responsible for the translation of Guillaume Durandus' (c. 1230-1296) work on the liturgy entitled Rationale divinorum officiorum. Forced to resign in 1504 because of the Moscow-Novgorod political situation, he was imprisoned on a charge of treason.

73. The oldest known dated copy of the Enlightener is that made in 1514 by Nil Polev a prominent follower of Joseph. His copy, however, does not contain the later Sermons against the Heretics [Slova na eretikov]. The Polev manuscript is found in the Gosudarstvennaia publichnaia biblioteka im. M.E. SaltykovShchedrina (Leningrad), sobranie Solovetskoe, 346/326. [Author's note; exact citation by the translator.]

74. Makarii (c. 1482-1564) became metropolitan of Moscow in 1542. He established the first printing press in Russia, compiled the Velikii chet i-minei (texts on Russian saints arranged for 12 monthly readings), wrote the Stepennaia kniga [Book of Generations] (a history of the ruling Russian families), and was a central figure at the Stoglav Sobor (Council of 100 Chapters) in 1551. See section VII in this chapter.

75. Moses Maimonides (1135-1204), the most important intellectual personality in medieval Judaism, was a jurist, philosopher and physician. Having passed his childhood in Muslim Spain, he later moved with his family to Morocco and then Egypt where he later was appointed the Sultan's physician. A prolific writer, he wrote — inter alia — a work on logical terminology, a commentary on the Mishna, a code of Jewish law and a highly influential work on religious philosophy entitled The Guide of the Perplexed.

76. Algazel (1058-1111), an important Arab theologian and philosopher, wrote works on logic, religious knowledge, philosophical problems, canon law and theology.

77. Karaism (from the Hebrew qara' — to read) was a Jewish religious movement which began in Persia in the 8th century and spread throughout Europe. It claimed that the only source of divine law was the Hebrew Scripture; hence, it renounced all rabbinic oral tradition and the Talmud. It supported a personal interpretation of Scripture, became fanatically ascetical and, paradoxically, legalistic. In its support of montheism, karaism rejected many Jewish ritual objects (e.g. phylacteries) which, it felt, were in conflict with strict monotheism.

78. Haphtarah (Hebrew — "conclusion"), a lesson from the prophets read in the synagogue on the Sabbath and on feast and fast days, was the "conclusion" and followed the reading known as the parashah (which was taken from the Torah and read on the Sabbath and on Mondays and Thursdays).

79. According to a work (c. 1495) entitled Povest' o belom klobuke [Tale of the White Cowl], a white cowl was given to Pope Sylvester I (d.335) by Constantine the Great. Later another pope returned it to Constantinople and finally Patriarch Philotheus gave it to the archbishop of Novgorod, Vasilii Kalika, in the 14th century. Some relationship seems to exist between the Tale and the famous 8th century forgery, the Donatio Constantini, a work which claimed that when Constantine transferred his capital to Constantinople (Byzantium), he left Pope Sylvester in charge of the western empire. In the Donatio the Pope wears a "white cowl." For the text of the Povest' see Pamiatniki starinnoi russkoi literatury (St. Petersburg, 1860), vol. I, 288-298.

80. Menander (342-291 B.C.), Greek dramatist and chief representative of the "New Comedy," was the author of more than a hundred comedies. Until the end of the 19th century, all that was known of Menander were fragments of 1650 verses or parts of verses, in addition to a considerable number of words quoted expressly as from Menander by the old lexicographers. The manuscript The Wisdom of Menander the Wise [Mudrosti Menandra Mudrogo or Menandra Mudrogo razumi] mentioned by Gennadii, known in Russia from the end of the 14th century, is a collection of moral-didactic verses taken from Menander's comedies. It is one of the few examples of classical literature transmitted to Russia via Byzantium. For a discussion of Menander and the other works and authors mentioned here in connection with Gennadii, see Ia. S. Lur'e, Ideologicheskaia bor'ba v Russkoi publitsistike konsta XV — nachala XVI veka (Moscow-Leningrad, 1960), 186-197.

81. Fedor Kuritsyn, a diplomat and Ivan III's adviser on foreign affairs might have been the author of Povest' o Drakule [Tale of Dracula], a work about an actual ruler of Wallachia.

82. Pachomius the Serb, a writer of Lives of saints, established the "style" of Russian hagiographical writing for future centuries. See V. Iablonskii, Pakhomii Serb i ego agiograficheskie pisaniia (St. Petersburg, 1908).

83. The Vulgate (from the Latin "editio vulgate" — "the common edition"), mainly the work of Jerome (d. c. 419) under commission by Pope Damasus (382) became the authoritative Biblical text for the Latin church. The Council of Trent (1546) proclaimed it the sole Latin authority but suggested it be published with fewer errors. In 1592 Pope Clementine's Vulgate edition became the "official" text for the Roman Catholic Church.

84. See I.E. Evseev, Gennadievskaia bibliia 1499 g. (Moscow, 1914).

85. See note 72.

86. Nicholas of Lyra (c. 1270-1349), author of the earliest Biblical commentary in print (Rome 1471-1472), was a leading Franciscan theologian and taught at the Sorbonne. His main work was a 50-volume Postillae perpetuae [Exegetical Notes] on Holy Scripture, a work of literal interpretation which greatly influenced Luther.

87. Samuel the Jew was a Morroccan Rabbi who wrote a letter in 1072 to a certain Rabbi Isaac expressing his doubts about Judaism and describing his gradual full acceptance of Christianity. The letter was originally written in Arabic, and later translated into Latin. See A. Lukyn Williams, Adversus Judaeos, (Cambridge, 1935).

88. Orest Fedorovich Miller (1833-1889) was a famous Russian historian and literary critic.

89. Bruno Herbipolensis of Warzburg (c. 1005-1045), a cousin of Emperor Conrad II, served as an adviser to him and his successor, Henry III, and also held the position of Imperial Chancellor of Italy from 1027-1034. He then became bishop of Wurzburg, where he left his mark in education and church restoration. His exegesis of the Psalms and his catechetical writings are in PL, 142:39-568.

90. See V. Zhmakin, "Mitropolit Daniil," Chteniia obshchestva istorii i drevnostei Moskovskogo universiteta (1881), I, 1-226; II.

91. St. Nil Sorskii (Nikolai Maikov) (1453-1508), who received his name from the river beside which he established a monastery (Sora River), opposed monastic ownership of property and the involvement of monks in social and political life. He became one of the central figures of the "Transvolgan Elders." One of the first Russians to leave writings on the mystical life, he has left his letters to his disciples and his Sketic Rule. For an English translation of the Rule see vol. II in Nordland's The Collected Works of George P. Fedotov, pp. 90-133. On St. Nil see vol. IV in Nordland's The Collected Works of George P. Fedotov, pp. 264-284.

92. See note 74.

93. The Book of Degrees was a triumphal history of "Holy Russia" written from the perspective of the Josephites.

94. Vassian Patrikeev, whose non-monastic name was Vasilii, was the son of one of Ivan III's close advisers, Prince Ivan Iv. Patrikeev. In 1499 they were nearly executed and were saved only by the intervention of Metropolitan Simon. After the death of Nil Sorskii in 1509, Vassian became the acknowledged leader of the Transvolgan Elders. At the council of 1531 he was condemned (with Maxim the Greek) for following the teachings of Aristotle and Plato and for monophysitism. He was sentenced to a cell in the monastery of Volokolamsk where he died in 1532. See H.W. Dewey & M. Matejic, "The Literary Heritage of Vassian Patrikeev," Slavic and East European History, X (Winter, 1966), 140-152.

95. The Philokalia is an anthology of patristic writings on prayer, asceticism and mysticism compiled by Nicodemus the Hagiorite (1748-1808), an Athonite monk. First published in Venice in 1792, it was instrumental in bringing about a revival of interest in the Desert Fathers, the monks of Mount Sinai, and the Hesychasts of Mount Athos. For its impact on later Russian spirituality see below, Chapter IV, section VII.

96. Girolamo Savonarola (1452-1498), a controversial figure of the age, was a Dominican prior, a reformer and a powerful preacher. He was a preacher of repentance, a voice urging moral reform in Florence, in Italy and within the entire Church. Through 1495 his influence in Florence was unmatched. The fiery and often accusatory nature of his zeal for reform and his support of the French at this time embittered Pope Alexander VI (1492-1593) who summoned him to Rome on July 21, 1495 to explain the nature of his revelations. Savonarola replied that he was too ill and too needed in Florence to come to Rome. He sent rather his recent work Compendium Revelationum, a work which he claimed would answer the question on the nature of "revelations." On September 8, 1495 the Pope condemned any divine inspiration he might claim and suspended him from preaching until his case had been tried. Savanarola responded that he would respect the Pope's decision and that he never claimed to be divinely inspired. During Lent of 1496 Savonarola began to preach (some claim with verbal papal permission). But his attack on the corruption of the Church, especially the Roman Curia, became increasingly more vehement. On May 13, 1497 the Pope's Cum saepenumero excommunicated him. He refrained from preaching in 1497 and wrote the Pope asking for a pardon. There was no reply. On Christmas Day Savonarola celebrated Mass publicly. His greatest error seems to have been the letters he sent to the rulers of Europe asking them to convene a council and to judge the Pope. Such an action was counter to Pius II's (1458-1464) Exsecrabilis (1460) which prohibited secular authority from convening councils. By papal permission Savonarola's trial involved torture. He was hanged and then burned in the Piazza della Signoria in Florence. As early as 1499 he was venerated locally as a saint. Although respected by the Reformers and influencing them somewhat (Luther published Savonarola's Meditatio on Psalm 32 and 51 with a preface in 1523), Savonarola was a moral rather than a doctrinal reformer. Doctrinally he was clearly a Thomist, as evidenced by his major apologetical work Triumphus crucis. Maxim the Greek was indeed influenced by Savonarola's preaching (see Sochineniia prepodobnago Maksima Greka v russkom perevode [Sergiev Posad, 1910J, 100). In 1501 Maxim returned to Florence and entered Savonarola's former monastery. He never, it appears, mentioned his Dominican past to the Russians. For two excellent works on Savonarola translated into English, see R. Ridolfi, Vita di Giroiamo 2 vols. (Florence, 1939) (Engl. tr., 1959) and J. Schnitzer, Savonarola: Ein Kulturbild aus der Zeit der Renaissance, 2 vols. (Munich, 1924) (Engl. tr., 1931).

97. The "Order of Carthusians" (O. Cart). was founded in 1084 by St. Bruno of Cologne in the valley of Chartreuse (cartusia). The Carthusians, unlike many Roman Catholic monastic orders, were not obliged to follow any specified "type" or "form" of spirituality or "school of thought" (e.g., Scotism, Thomism, etc.). Their primary purpose was to attain union with God and hence their main characteristic became external and interior silence, a silence which would enable them to be attentive to the guidance of the Holy Spirit with the help of their spiritual directors. Bound to their world of silence, the Carthusians "preached" by copying manuscripts, editing and printing. The Carthusians played an important role in the western monastic reform movement of the 11th and 12th centuries. They, more than other forms of western monasticism, most resemble Orthodox monastic spirituality.

98. Aldus Manutius (1449-1515), a scholar, editor and famous printer, was most renowned as the organizer of the Aldine Press. Manutius published the first editions of many of the Greek and Latin classics.

99. Janus Lacaris (1445-1535) was a famous Greek scholar and diplomat for western powers. As a librarian for Lorenzo de'Medici, Lascaris traveled throughout the East collecting and editing manuscripts. When the Medici fell, Lascaris served the French court as a diplomat. It was he who aided Pope Leo X with the establishment of the Quirinal College for young Greeks, a school which lasted only brietly. Through his French contacts he contributed to the beginnings of the French Renaissance.

100. Fedor I Ivanovich (1584-1598), son of Ivan IV the Terrible and his first wife, Anastasia Romanovna, succeeded his father in 1584. Dim-witted and weak, he played no role in governing, a responsibility assumed by Boris Godunov, his wife's brother. All the achievements of Fedor's reign were hence the work of Godunov — the war against Sweden (1590-1595) regaining territory lost under Ivan the Terrible; the stopping of a Tatar raid on Moscow in 1591; the building of numerous fortress-towns; the recolonizing of Siberia and reassertion of control in the Caucasus; and, most importantly, the establishment of theRussian Patriarchate in 1598. When Fedor I died childless in 1598, the Rurik dynasty came to an end. Power was transferred to Boris Godunov by the authority of a zemskii sobor. His reign (1598-1605) inaugurated what is commonly known as the "Time of Troubles" in Russian history.

101. R. Wipper, Ivan Grozny (tr., Moscow, 1947).

102. See the characteristic degeneration of the Jesus Prayer in chapter 13 of the Domostroi [Ordering of the House]. [Author's note]

103. See note 35.

104. The Chronograph was a collection of general history compiled in Russia in the mid 15th century. There were subsequent editions. It consisted of accounts of Biblical events, Roman and Byzantine history, and sections on Russian and South Slavic history. Later editions added sections on Western European history.

105. The Stoglav (100 chapters or decrees) Council (1551) lists its decrees in a rather disorderly manner, for they are arranged in the list of 37 questions posed by Ivan the Terrible. The decrees are mainly on matters of ecclesiastical disciplinary problems and contain no important doctrinal statements. By decreeing the chanting of two Alleluias and the signing of the cross with two fingers, the Council laid the groundwork for the Old Believers' schism a century later. There is a French translation by E. Duchesne, Le Stoglav ou 1es Cent Chapitres (Paris, 1920).

106. Matvei Bashkin was condemned for allegedly believing that the eucharist was just bread and wine, that Christ was unequal to God the Father, that confession was not necessary, and for holding iconoclastic views. See A. Borozdin, "Matvei Semenovich Bashkin," Russkii Biograftcheskii Slovar', II.

107. See below, Chapter II, section II, "Artemii and Kurbskii."

108. Most of what is known about Feodorit, whose dates are uncertain, comes from the History of the Grand Prince of Moscow by Prince Kurbskii, who was his spiritual son and regarded him as a true saint. His missions to the Lapps began around 1530 and continued until he beC.ame archimandrite of the Spaso-Evfim'ev Monastery in Suzdal' in 1551. He was summoned to Moscow to testify against Artemii at his trial, but instead defended him, which provoked Artemii's accusers to charge Feodorit with the same "heresies." He was then banished to the monastery of St. Kirill but was released shortly on the orders of Metropolitan Makarii. Tsar Ivan IV sent him to Constantinople in 1557 to obtain the patriarch's confirmation of his titte "Tsar" ("Emperor"), which Iosaf II granted in 1561. Sometime after 1564 Feodorit reportedly defended the defector Kurbskii in front of Ivan, and the enraged tsar ordered him drowned. See J.L.I. Fennel, ed., Prince Kurbsky's History of Ivan IV, (Cambridge, 1965), pp. 252- 285.

109. Feodosii Kosoi was the leader of a syncretic, unitarian heretical movement with Protestant and Jewish influences. He was condemned at a council in 1533-4.

110. Fedor Ivanovich Buslaev (1818-1897) was a Russian grammatician and historian of Russian art and literature.

111. The Trullan Council, or the "Quinisext" ("Fifth-sixth") was held in Constantinople in 692 and was conceived as a supplement to the Fifth and Sixth Ecumenical Councils (held in Constantinople in 553 and 680-1), which had promulpated no canons. It is most important for its canons regarding the married clergy and confirming the 28th canon of the Council of Chalcedon (451), which gives the see of Constantinople "equal privileges with the see of Old Rome." The Western Church, already practicing clerical celibacy, rejected its decisions.

112. Jan Rokyta, a Moravian Brethren, came to Moscow in 1570 with the Polish embassy. At that time, however, it was common for Russians to consider all "Protestants" as "Lutherans." Ivan IV responded to Rokyta's exposition by utilizing a work against Lutherans written by a "holy Fool" named Parfenii. See E. Amburger, Geschichte des Protestantismus in Russland (Stuttgart, 1961).

113. The Czech (Bohemian or Moravian) Brethren were a remnant of the Hussites which broke off from the Catholic and Utraquist parties in Bohemia in 1457, calling for a return to primitive Christianity. With their rejection of war, violence and oaths, their strict discipline, and their use of the Bible as the sole authority on faith, they anticipated later Anabaptist movements.

114. Antonio Possevino (1534-1611), a staunch opponent of the Protestant Reformation, became a Jesuit in 1559. Possevino, successful in preaching against the Reformation in France (1562-1572), became a special legate of Pope Gregory XIII in 1577. His assignment was to bring King John III of Sweden to Catholicism. (King John actually converted but quickly lapsed when the Pope refused to consider certain reforms: a vernacular liturgy, marriage of the clergy and communion under "both species.") His next papal assignment was to Ivan the Terrible who had asked for papal mediation after his loss to Poland. In 1581 he arrived in Russia and negotiated an armistice. His attempts to work out a reunion of the Church failed and he returned to Rome in 1582. He then served as papal nuncio to Poland with instructions to continue to work for reunion. When Ivan the Terrible died in 1584, contact with the papacy was broken off. From 1587 to 1591 Possevino was professor of theology at the University of Padua. Among his writings he left his invaluable Moscovia (Vilna, 1586). See S. Polcin, S.l., "Une tentative d'Union au XVIe siecle: La mission religieuse du Pere Antoine Possevin S.J. en Moscovie (1581-1582)," Orientalia Chrtstiana Analecta, CL (Rome, 1957) and O. Halecki, "Possevino's Last Statement on Polish-Russian Relations," Orientalia Christiana Periodico, XIX (1953).

Notes to Chapter II.

1. The close ties between Poland and Lithuania began in 1385 when Grand Prince Jagietto of Lithuania agreed with Polish ambassadors to be baptized into the Catholic Church, marry the 12 year old Queen Jadwiga of Poland, and accede to the Polish throne as King Wladyslaw. Further agreements between Poland and Lithuania in 1401 and 1413 strengthened this "personal union." Although it lapsed at the end of the 15th century, the senates of both states then agreed that the King of Poland would also hold the title of Grand Prince of Lithuania, and at the city of Lublin on July 1, 1569 a common parliment was formed, finalizing the union.

2. Scattered pagan Lithuanian tribes first began to unite before the middle of the 13th century under Mindaugas Mindove or Mendovg, (d. 1263) to combat the Teutonic Knights. Mindaugas, crowned Lithuania's first and only king by Pope Innocent IV, already began to expand eastward and southward into Kievan Rus', which had been ravaged by the Tatars. Gediminas (d. 1341), however, was the real builder of the Lithuanian state, moving its frontiers to the Dnieper River and establishing his capital at Vilna. His son Algiridas (or Olherd, d. 1377) continued to expand into Western Russia, taking Kiev in 1362, and earlier, in 1355, was able to secure a separate metropolitan for his Orthodox subjects. For the early history of the Lithuanian Metropolitanate of Kiev see Dmitrii Obolenskii, "Byzantium, Kiev and Moscow, A study in Ecclesiastical Relations," Dumbarton Oaks Papers, no. 11, 1957.

3. The territory of Galicia, situated on the northeastern slopes of the Carpathian Mountains in present day Ukraine, first became a strong and independent power under Prince Roman (1189-1205) of Vladimir in Volynia, and later under his son Daniel (1245-1264). Although Daniel received k crown from papal legates, the independence of Galicia was constantly threatened by Hungary, Lithuania and the Tatars, and in the latter half of the 14th century it was divided between Poland and Lithuania. A separate metropolitanate was created for Galicia in 1303 and lasted intermittently until 1347. See M. Hrushevsky, A History of the Ukraine (New Haven, 1941), pp. 96-123.

4. Gregory Tsamblak, a Bulgarian and nephew of Metropolitan Kirill (see Chapter I, section IV), held the office of metropolitan of Lithuania from 1415 until his death in 1420. The Lithuanian Grand Prince Vitovt (Vytautas, 1392-1430) had attempted to secure his own metropolitan from the patriarch of Constantinople, but his candidate, Gregory, was instead deposed in 1414. Thereupon, ignoring the authority of the patriarch, the Lithuanian Orthodox clergy met in council and named Gregory their metropolitan themselves. See I. Wlasowsky, Outline History of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church (New York, 1956), v.1, pp. 109-110.

5. The Council of Constance, the 16th general council of the Catholic Church, met from Nov. 5, 1414 to April 22, 1418. It had three purposes: 1) to resolve the "Western Schism," brought on by the simultaneous claims to the papacy of Gregory XII and anti-popes John XXIII and Benedict XIII; 2) to condemn the heresies of John Wycliffe and Jan Hus (Hus was burned at the stake there in 1415); and 3) to initiate reforms strengthening the power of councils at the expense of the papacy. See L.R. Loomis, tr., The Council of Constance, ed. J.H. Mundy and K.M. Woody (New York, 1961).

6. See Chapter I, note 53.

7. See Chapter I, note 52.

8. Gregory Mammas (d. 1459), one of the leaders of the pro-union party in Constantinople and a supporter of the Council of Florence, was elected Orthodox patriarch of Constantinople in 1445. Opposition to the union forced him to abandon his see and come to Rome in 1450, where he served with Isidore and Bessarion as advisers to Popes Nicholas V, Calixtus III and Pius II in their efforts to enforce the union first in Co&127;stantinople, and after its fall in Eastern Europe.

9. See, for example, the letter of March 14, 1476 sent from West Russia to Pope Sixtus IV which had as one of its signators the metropolitanslect Misael (Pstruch or Pstrukis). The full text of the letter is published in Arkhiv Iugozapadnoi Rossii, vol. III, part I, (Kiev, 1887), 199-211. There is a discussion of the letter and the relevant bibliography in Oscar Halecki, From Florence to Brest (1439-1596), (second edition, Archon Books, 1968), 99-103. [Author's note.]

10. See Chapter I, note 113.

11. The Arians were followers of the early 4th century Alexandrian presbyter Arius (d. 336) who taught that the only true God is God the Father, and that Christ was not truly divine, i.e. there "was when he was not." Condemned at the First Ecumenical Council at Nicaea in 325, the Arian heresy was rather widespread and provoked a bitter controversy throughout the Church in the 4th century, a controversy which raged until the Second Ecumenical Council at Constantinople in 381. The term "Arian" was therefore applied to various Anti-Trinitarian or Unitarian sects which arose during the Protestant Reformation.

12. Sigismund II Augustus (1548-1572), in whose reign the Union of Lublin was established, was the last of the descendants of Jagiet to hold the Polish throne. During his reign there was no official "state" religion and therefore an unusual degree of freedom of religious discussion and worship.

13. Stephen Batory, the prince of Transylvania, was elected to the throne after Henri de Valois vacated it to claim the French crown, and during his reign led three brilliant military campaigns against Ivan IV's forces in Lithuania. Although Batory was a Calvinist before he converted to accept the throne, he soon became a devout champion of Catholicism, cooperating with the Jesuits in the Catholic restoration in Poland, and even attempted to force his Orthodox subjects to accept the calendar reform of Gregory XIII (see below).

14. Sigismund III Vasa (1587-1632), a devout Catholic, was elected king on the premature death of Stephen Batory. It is interesting to note that, acting as the traditional protector of the Orthodox subjects of the Commonwealth, he issued a royal charter on July 15, 1589 authorizing Patriarch Jeremiah's visit to Lithuania (see below, section V) and any action he might take on religious matters, and confirmed Jeremiah's deposition of metropolitan of Kiev Onesifor as well as his decision to put the Brotherhoods of Lvov and Vilno outside the jurisdiction of the local bishops, who were appointed by the Polish crown. (The charter is reprinted in Russkaia istoricheskaia biblioteka, VII, col. 1117-1121). However, on December 15, 1596, shortly after the Union of Brest, he virtually outlawed the Orthodox Church by calling on all Orthodox Christians to join the union and banning all opposition to the union. In the latter part of his reign he twice invaded Muscovite Russia; in 1610 while Muscovy was in its "Time of Troubles" to try and gain the Russian crown for himself, and again in 1617 to support his son and successor Wladyslaw's claim to the throne.

15. Giovanni Commendone (1524-1584) was the papal nuncio to Poland from 1563-1565. He was responsible for obtaining King Sigismund II's acceptance of the decrees of the Council of Trent (see note 196) and for persuading him to give the Jesuits his royal protection in Poland, thereby setting the stage for the Catholic restoration activities begun under Stephen Batory. He was also the first of the papal nuncios to give attention to the problem of converting the Orthodox, as well as the Protestants, to the Roman Church. Later he returned as a papal legate to get Poland's participation in an anti-Ottoman league.

16. Stanislaus Cardinal Hosius (Stanistaw Hozjusz) (1504-1579), the great Polish bishop and one of the leading Catholic hierarchs of the 16th century, had been a presiding member of the Council of Trent. Renowned for his zeal in combatting the opponents of Catholicism, he was referred to by contemporaries as the "second Augustine" and the "hammer of heretics." It was he who actually introduced the Society of Jesus (Jesuits) in Poland in 1564. Between 1564 and 1654 50 Jesuit establishments were founded in Poland.

17. See below, section IV.

18. The "nation" or millet system had long been used by Moslem rulers to deal with religious minorities within their realms. Each "nation" was allowed to govern its internal affairs according to its own laws and customs, and the religious head of the "nation" was responsible for it before the Moslem authorities. After the conquest of Byzantium, the Turkish rulers extended this system to the Orthodox under the patriarch of Constantinople.

19. I.e. Peter Mogila (Movila in Romanian, Mohyla in Ukrainian). See below, section VII.

20. Zakharii Kopystenskii (d. 1627) was a leading Orthodox monastic in the period after the Union of Brest. See below, section V.

21. Russkaia istoricheskaia biblioteka, IV, 813.

22. Artemii's epistles are published in Russkaia istoricheskaia biblioteka, IV, col. 1201-1448. See also S.G. Vilinskii, Poslaniia startsa Artemiia XVI veka, (Odessa, 1906).

23. Socinianism was an Anti-Trinitarian offshoot of the Protestant Reformation. It took its name from two early proponents of the heresy in Italy, Laelius (1525-1562) and Faustus (1539-1604) Socinus, who taught that Christ was not divine by nature, but only by office. The center of the movement soon shifted to the Poland-Lithuania Commonwealth, where Faustus Socinus himself moved, and where it divided into two rival factions. The Polish faction, led by Socinus, held that it was proper to address Christ in prayer because of His divine office, and preached non-participation in government and in the military. The Lithuanian group, which Budny joined and soon led, included several local noblemen who kept their positions in the goverriment, and taught that since Christ was not truly God it was therefore forbidden to pray to Him, hence the name non-adorantes. The two groups were somewhat reconciled at a synod in 1584, but Budny himself was excommunicated from them and died a few years later. See E.M. Wilbur, A History of Unitarianism, vol. I (Cambridge, Mass., 1945).

24. Budny's Katekhizis was published (although not in full) in Arkheograficheskii sbornik dokumentov, otnosiashchikhsia k istorii severo-zapadnoi Rusi, vol. VIII, (Vilna, 1870), xvi-xxiv. Fragments of the Opravdanie were published in Opyt' rossiiskoi bibliografii V.S. Sopikova, ch. I, (St. Petersburg, 1813). The latest essay on Budny is by S. Kot in Studien zur alteren Geschichte Osteuropas 1 (Festschrift frv H.F. Schmid), (Graz-Koln, 1956), pp. 63-118.

25. See Chapter I, note 41.

26. See Chapter I, note 43.

27. See Chapter I, note 49.

28. St. John of Damascus (d. 777), the last great theologian of the Patristic age, was the leading defender of Orthodoxy during the controversy over icons, and is best known for his De Fide Orthodoxa or An Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, as well as the numerous prayers and hymns attributed to him.

29. See above, Chapter I, section VI.

30. Artemii had a number of private pupils, one of whom — Mark Sarygozin — later worked with Kurbskii on Patristic translations. [Author's note.] Little is known about Sarygozin (or Sarykhozin). He deserted to Lithuania along with Timofei Teterin, an army officer who fled about the same time as Prince Kurbskii. In an undated letter to Sarygozin, Kurbskii relates his interest in Patritic writings and asks Sarygozin to visit him in Lithuania to help translate the Fathers into Church Slavonic. Cf. J.L.I. Fennell, editor and translator, The Correspondence between Prince A.M. Kurbsky and Tsar Ivan IV of Russia, 1564-1579, (Cambridge, 1963), p. 182, n. 7. The Kurbskii correspondence should be read with caution and in the light of the possible significance of Edward L. Keenan's research. See footnote 54 of Chapter I.

31. There is an English translation of Kurbskii's history by J.L.I. Fennell, Kurbsky's History of Ivan IV, (Cambridge, 1965).

32. See above, Chapter I, section VI.

33. A controversy exists as to whether or not, prior to the 17th century, libraries in Moscow contained Greek manuscripts. One view, based on probability, claims that they were brought by Greek scholars who came with Sophia Palaeologos; consequently at the time of Ivan IV a sizable collection was available. The opposite case, resting on the absence of evidence, holds that until the 17th century only Slavonic material was at hand. The problem remains unsolved. [Author's note.]

34. St. John Chrysostom, the "Golden Mouth" (d. 407), is one of the most renowned and beloved figures in the history of the Orthodox Church. He is known mostly for his fearless preaching in Constantinople, his numerous homilies on the New Testament Gospels and Epistles, and the Divine Liturgy most commonly celebrated in Orthodox churches, which is attributed to him.

35. St. Gregory Nazianzus, the "Theologian" (c. 330-383), was, along with St. Basil and his brother St. Gregory Nyssa, one of the great 4th century thinkers who led the church to the final victory over Arianism and helped to standardize the theological terminology over which so many battles were fought in the 4th century Trinitarian and Sth century Christological controversies.

36. St. Cyril, patriarch of Alexandria from 412 until his death in 444, led the struggle against the Nestorians, who taught that Christ's divine and human natures were entirely separate and that since Mary gave birth to his human nature only she could not be called Theotokos [the Mother of God]. St. Cyril was the dominant figure at the Third Ecumenical Council at Ephesus in 431, which condemned the Nestorian heresy.

37. See above, note 28.

38. The Historia ecclesiastica of Nicephorus Callistus Xanthopoulos (c. 1260- 1335) contains 18 books tracing the history of the Church from the beginnings of Christianity to the reign of the Byzantine Emperor Phocas (602-610). Nicephorus Callistus was also known for various writings on liturgical themes as well as a catalogue of Church Fathers, emperors, patriarchs, melodists and saints.

39. See Kurbskii's Introduction to his New Pearl [Novyi margarit] included in N.G. Ustrialov, Skazaniia kniazia Kurbskogo, (St. Petersburg, 1868). [Author's note.]

40. Where this rumor arose and how it reached Kurbskii is unknown. It was probably through Maxim the Greek, although he could have heard it from Greeks who settled in Volynia after the destruction of Constantinople. [Author's note.]

41. Nicholas Cabasilas (1320-1390) was a distinguished hesychast mystic and a firm opponent of Latin theology and scholasticism. He is best known, however, for his Life in Christ, tr. C.J. de Catanzaro (St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 1974) and A Commentary on the Divine Liturgy, tr. S.M. Hussy (London, 1960).

42. The study of the eclectic philosophy and magnificent prose style of Cicero (106-43 B.C.), the great Roman orator and statesman, was a standard part of the curriculum of the ancient schools in which many early Christian writers were trained. His influence is especially felt in such Western Fathers as Ambrose, Jerome, and Augustine.

43. The Mamonich family were well-established printers in Vilna. Two of the best known of them were the brothers Kuzma and Lukash, who owned their own printing office and were printers for the Lithuanian government.

44. The Dialectica and De fide orthodoxa, along with a section On Heresies in Epitomies and a short introduction, form the four parts of St. John of Damascus' principle work Fount of Knowledge. De fide orthodoxa is the usual title given the fourth section of the Fount, but the full title is An Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith.

45. Not much is known about the life of John, Exarch of Bulgaria (d.c. 925) or even what the title "Exarch" refers to, but several of his works are known. His translation of De fide orthodoxa comes from the years 891-2, he also wrote a commentary on the six days of creation [Shestodnev] based on St. Basil's Hexameron, and his Homilies are being edited in Sofia by Dora Ivanova Mircheva.

46. Johann Spangenberg (1484-1550) was an indefatigable worker for the cause of the Reformation. Born in Hardegsen in 1484, he was later known as Hardesius, Hardesianus, and Herdesianus. After imbibing the spirit of humanism at the University of Erfurt, he became both school rector and preacher at Stolberg. He became an early sympathizer of the ideas of the Reformation and as early as the beginning of the 1520's, according to his biographer Menzel, he began to interpret the Scriptures in an unaccustomed way [non consueto more]. In 1524 he was invited to the imperial city of Nordhausen and there he served as both educator and pastor; he opened his own school and hence is often known as "Scholae Nordhusanae Episcopum." Spangenberg's reputation as pastor and educator spread rapidly and in 1546 Luther requested that Spangenberg go to Mansfeld in order to superintend the entire affairs of the church there. He worked tirelessly, sometimes preaching four times a day. In 1550 Spangenberg died, leaving behind his wife of forty-three years and four sons (three of whom became theologians). Spangenberg wrote hymns, sermons, works of a doctrinal nature and works on general moral development. In his Nfargarita theologica he transposes Melanchthon's Loci theologici into the form of questions. His Trivii Erotomata dealt with the trivium in the form of questions.

47. Fragments of partially completed translations, among them sections of Eusebius' Ecclesiastical History, exist in manuscript form. [Author's note.] The Ecclesiastical History of Eusebius, bishop of Caesarea (d. 339) is by far the most famous of early church histories and the prime source for all research into the Christian Church. A critical edition of this work was compiled by Edward Schwartz and published in Griechische Christliche Schriftsteller (Leipzig, 1903- 1909).

48. Commonly but erroneously ascribed to Maxim the Greek. [Author's note.]

49. Theodoret, bishop of Cyrus (423-466), was a theologian of the Antioch tradition, from which Nestorius came, and his friendship and sympathy for Nestorius was to prove his undoing later, for although he formally condemned Nestorius at Chalcedon in 451, he himself was condemned as one of the "Three Chapters" at the Fifth Ecumenical Council in Constantinople in 553. Outside of the Christological controversies, however, he was known for his valuable Scriptural exegeses.

50. Many extant fragments of commentaries on the Psalms, Genesis, Ecclesiastes and the Song of Songs have been attributed to St. Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria from 328 to 373, a courageous fighter against the Arians who was exiled five times from his see and is best known for his Three Discourses Against the Arians and The Life of St. Anthony.

51. Ivan Fedorov had set up the first printing press in Moscow in 1564 but was soon driven out by a superstitious mob aroused by the professional manuscript copiers. He then went to Zadlubov in Lithuania, where he printed the Gospels in 1568 and, when his patron lost interest in the project, moved on to establish the first press in Lvov in 1573. Later he went to Ostrog to work for Prince Konstantin where he printed the Ostrog Bible (1580-1581). After that he tried to start his own establishment back in Lvov but died there in 1583.

52. Petr Mstislavets had been Fedorov's assistant in Moscow. He came with him to Lithuania and settled in Vilna, where he printed the Gospels and the Psalms.

53. The Chodkiewicz family was one of the most prominent noble families in Lithuania and was highly sympathetic to the Protestant Reformation. Grigorii Chodkiewicz, the castellane of Vilna, who was himself Orthodox, set aside his entire income of one of his large villages to finance Fedorov's printing operation.

54. See below, section IV.

55. On bookprinting during this period see M.N. Tikhomirov, "Nachale moskovskogo knigopechataniia," Uchenye zapiski MGU (Moscow, 1940) and A.V. Zernov, Nachalo knigopechataniia v Moskve i na Ukraine (Moscow, 1547).

56. Gerasim Smotritskii was the first rector of the Ostrog Academy, the principal collaborator in the preparation of the Ostrog Bible, the author of its Preface, and the author of The Key to the Kingdom of Heaven, a defense of Orthodoxy against the Uniates written in 1584. See below.

57. On a United Faith was published in Ostrog in 1583 and is preserved in Russkaia istoricheskaia biblioteka, VII, 601-938.

58. Demian Nalivaiko was the priest of St. Nicholas Church in Ostrog. His brother Semerin was the organizer of his own band of Cossacks who revolted in the fall of 1595 and plundered the territory around the city of Lutsk, including the estates of Bishop Terletskii, who was in Rome at the time receiving the Pope's blessing of the Union of Brest (see below). The following year Semerin was captured by the Polish army, tortured in prison for a year, and beheaded.

59. Jan Liatos (c. 1539-1605), a Catholic, was a professor at the University of Cracow who was dismissed from his position because he opposed the calendar reform of Pope Gregory XIII. See below.

60. Jacob Susza, Saulus et Paulus. [Author's note.] Jacob Susza (1610-1687) was the bishop of Chelm from 1652 and the head of the Uniate Basilian order of monks from 1661 to 1667. His Saulus et Paulus ruthenae unionis sanguine beati Josaphati transformatus sive Meletius Smotricius was published in Rome in 1656.

61. Veliamin Rutskii, the Uniate metropolitan of Ostrog, viewed Ostrozhskii's plan as an effort to counterbalance the Uniate College of St. Athanasius founded in Rome in 1576 by the Jesuit Antonio Possevino. The purpose of this school was to educate Greeks and Slavs of the Eastern rite. [Author's note.] Rutskii (1574-1637) succeeded Hypatius Pociej (see below, note 87) as Uniate metropolitan of Kiev in 1613. He worked unsuccessfully against the activities of the Orthodox Brotherhood of Kiev and organized the Uniate monasteries under his control into a regular order under the rule of St. Basil.

62. Cyril Lucaris was one of the most important and tragic figures in the Orthodox Church of this time. Born in Crete in 1572, he received a broad humanist education at the Greek school in Venice and the University of Padua. He was ordained priest by his cousin, Meletius Pigas, the patriarch of Alexandria and sent to Eastern Europe to help the Orthodox in their struggle against the Union of Brest. He attended the Orthodox synod of 1596 in Brest (see below) and taught in the Orthodox schools of Ostrog, Vilna and Lvov. Forced to flee for a short time because he was accused of being a Turkish spy, he returned to the Lvov school for another brief period in 1600 and then was elected patriarch of Alexandria in 1601. While patriarch of Alexandria, he acquired several Dutch and Engtish Protestant friends with whom he corresponded on religious matters, and by 1617 he was taking open Protestant positions on such matters as sacraments and icons. In 1620 Lucaris was elected patriarch of Constantinople and became the focal point of the constant intrigues surrounding that see under the Turks. His Confession, first published in Latin at Geneva in 1629, had a thoroughly pro-Calvinist character, and caused Lucaris to be a special target of the Jesuits at the Ottoman court who were mainly responsible for his depositions in 1621, 1633, and 1635. Finally, in 1638 both Cyril Lucaris and his Confession were condemmed at a synod in Constantinople, he was arrested by the Turks on charges of treason and while sailing to exile he was murdered by the sailors on his ship: The best account of Cyril's life was compiled by Thomas Smith, Collectanea de Cyrillo Lucario (London, 1707); a modern work on Cyril is G.A. Hadjiantoniou, Protestant Patriarch (Richmond, Va., 1961).

63. See below, section V.

64. Pope Gregory XIII (1572-1585) was known for his attempts to win back England, Sweden, and even Russia for Catholicism, his promotion of the Jesuit order, and the Gregorian University in Rome, which he founded. He is best remembered, however, for appointing a commission to revise the old Julian calendar and carrying out its recommendations to advance the calendar from October 4 to October 15, 1582.

65. Primoz Truber (1508-1586) was the leader of the Lutheran movement in Carnolia (a province of the Austrian empire, now part of Yugoslavia). He first published a Slovene translation of the Gospels, Acts and the Epistle to the Romans at Tubingen in 1557-60. The next year he added a translation of Galatians and I and II Corinthians. Later he published, along with another Carnolian reformer, Jurij Dalmatin, a complete Slovene Bible at Wurttemburg in 1584. See L. Legisa and A. Gspan, eds., Zgodvina slovenskega slovstva (Ljubljana, 1956), I, pp. 206-44.

66. Vasilii Tiapinskii was a minor noble from Polotsk who translated and printed the Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke and showed a Socinian influence. See M.V. Dovnar-Zanol'skii, V. Tiapinskii, perevodchik Evangeliia na belorusskoe narechie (St. Petersburg, 1899).

67. Not much is known about Negalevskii. His translation of the Gospels was accompanied by a Socinian introduction and commentaries and was not printed at the time.

68. Marcin Czechowicz (1532-1613) was a Calvinist minister in Vilna who joined the Anti-Trinitarians and later, as the head of a large Unitarian congregation in Lublin, became the most influential Unitarian theologian in Poland next to Faustus Socinus (see note 23). His Polish translation of the New Testament was made to counteract the Bible of Szymon Budny (of the non-adorantes in Lithuania). His most fanious work is De Paedobaptistarum errorum origine, (Lublin, 1575).

69. Skorina (d. after 1535) was a doctor of medicine and a former student of the Universities of Cracow and Padua. He began printing books first in Prague and after 1525 in Vilna.

70. The Utraquists were a conservative religious group in Bohemia which split with the Roman Church over the issue of communion in both species. They were recognized by the Council of Basel (see below, note 94) but relations with Rome fell apart when the Pope refused to recognize their candidate for their bishop. In 1451 they sent a representative to Constantinople to discuss union with the Greek Church, but as the patriarchal throne was vacant the project was confined to the exchange of friendly messages and was forgotten when the city fell to the Turks two years later. Meanwhile the more radical descendants of the Hussites were gaining strength in Bohemia and when Luther appeared on the scene the members of the Utraquist Church either went over to the Reformation or were reabsorbed into.the Catholic Church. Their Bible, published at Venice in 1506, was based on Hus' Bible, which was itself a revision of a vernacular version supposedly the work of SS. Cyril and Methodius (see Chapter I, note 15).

71. See above, Chapter I, note 86.

72. See above, Chapter I, note 72.

73. Medieval Jewish communities handed down the basic Hebrew consonantal text of the Old Testament with a Masora, a system of vowel markings and divisions to aid pronunciation in the public reading of the Scriptures. The Masora was standardized in the 10th century and the Massoretic text edited by the Jew Jacob ben Chayyim and published in Venice in 1524-1525 became the prototype for most printed versions of the Hebrew Old Testament.

74. The Septuagint, the earliest translation of the Old Testament into Greek, which dates fror: the first three centuries before Christ, was printed for the first time by Andreas Asulanus in 1518 on the presses of Aldus Manutius in Venice.

75. Cardinal Ximenes de Cisneros (1436-1517) was a great Spanish ecclesiastic, statesman and Grand Inquisitor. His polygot Bible, printed in Alcala in Spain contained parallel columns of the Hebrew, Aramaic, Septuagint and Latin Old Testaments and the New Testament in Greek and Latin. It was the first and most famous of several 16th century polyglot Bibles.

76. See above, Chapter I, note 83.

77. Ostrozhskii's brother-in-law was John Christopher Tarnowski, with whom Peter Skarga (see below) lived for two years. Ostrozhskii's daughter married Jan Kiszka, the leading Socinian noble in Lithuania. For a genealogy of the Ostrozhskii family see J. Wolff, Kniaziowie litewsko-ruscy (Warsaw, 1895).

78. "Vindiciae pro Unitariorum in Polonia Religionis ubertate, ab Equite Polone conscriptae," in Christopher Sandius, Bibliotheca Antitrinitariorum, (Freistadii-Amsterdam, 1684). [Author's note.]

79. Motovila (also spelled Motowiko or Motowilko), an obscure unitarian, probably a Lithuanian, appears to have been a millenarian. The only information about him seems to come from a letter written by Prince Kurbskii in 1578. His book was never published.

80. Peter Skarga (1536-1612) was the most influential Polish Jesuit of his time. He began his career as the chancellor of the Catholic archdiocese of Lvov where he made early contacts with Ostrozhskii. After he entered the Jesuit order, he helped found schools in Jaroslaw and Vilna and, when the college at Vilna became the first Jesuit university in 1578, Skarga was its first rector. His celebrated book, actually written three years before it was published, dealt with the Greek Church in the tradition of the Council of Florence. Its main arguments for reunion were that the Byzantine emperor and patriarch had originally accepted the Union of Florence, thus restoring the unity of the whole church under the Pope which had existed severat centuries earlier, and that the contemporary Greek patriarch was under the humiliating domination of the Turks and was elected and deposed contrary to canon law. The book was reprinted in 1590 with a dedication to King Sigismund III, at whose court Skarga had been official preacher since 1588. In the preface to the second edition Skarga complained that wealthy Orthodox nobles (i.e., Ostrozhskii) were buying up all the copies of the first edition and burning them, and he urged the king to step up negotiations with the pro-union bishops. Skarga was the king's representative and chief Catholic theologian at the Synod of Brest in 1596 when the union was formally ratified, and worked tirelessly until his death in 1612 to promote the Catholic cause both among the Orthodox and the Protestants. See J. Tretiak, Skarga w dziejach i lieteraturze Unii brzeskie (Cracow, 1912).

81. Curiously, the first edition of Skarga's book itself is dedicated to Ostrozhskii, and in the Preface the author refers to conversations they had earlier on the subject. [Author's note].

82. See above, note 11.

83. Photinus of Sirmium was condemned in 345 as a modalist, or one who held that Father, Son and Holy Spirit are just three different expressions or operations of one God.

84. Paul of Samosata, bishop of Antioch from 260 to 268, professed a heretical theology stressing the unity of God to the point of modalism, and the humanity of Christ to the point of adoptionism (the belief that Jesus was an ordinary man whom God chose to be Christ).

85. See Chapter I, note 114.

86. Alberto Bolognetti was the papal nuncio to Poland from 1581 until his death in 1585.

87. Adam Pociej (d.1613), an influential nobleman and the castellarte of Brest, grew up as a Calvinist and only later joined the Orthodox Church. He took the monastic name Hypatius and became bishop of Brest and Vladimir in 1593. Shortly afterward, at a secret meeting at Torczyn in 1594, he declared himself in favor of union with Rome and began to work closely with another bishop, Terletskii (see riote 108), in promoting the union among the rest of the Orthodox clergy in Lithuania. On June 1, 1595 he signed a formal message to King Sigismund III announcing that he and several other bishops were ready to enter into communion with Rome, and in the fall of that year he travelled to Rome with Terletskii to present the union to Pope Clement VIII. In 1599 he was elevated to Uniate metropolitan of Kiev. A biography of Pociej by I. Savicky appears in Jubilejna kniha v 300-Iitni rokovini smerti Mitropolita Jpatiya Potiya (Lvov, 1914), pp. 1-133.

88. The Confessio Sandomiriensis was the product of a synod held in 1570 as a project of Protestant unification. The Confessio remained, however, the creed of only the Calvinists and the Czech (Bohemian) Brethren. The synod also drew up the so-called Consensus Sandomiriensis, which was a pledge to struggle against both Anti-Trinitarians and Roman Catholics.

89. Ostrozhskii's letter to the Synod of Torun inviting the Protestants to, join the opposition to the Union of Brest, also spoke even of an armed uprising. His letter is in Russkaia istoricheskaia biblioteka, XIX, 642-654.

90. Incidentally, in the time of Sigismund II Augustus (1548-1572) negotiations with "those of different faiths" were part of the liberal Catholic program. [Author's note.]

91. For Turnovskii's description of his journey to Sandomierz in 1570 see K.E.J. Joerensen, Okumenische Besfrebungen unter den polnischen Protestanten (Copenhagen, 1942), 261.

92. See above, note 70.

93. Meletius Pigas (d. 1601) was quite active in opposing attempts at union with the Roman Catholic Church both in Lithuania and on the island of Chios. The basic work on him remains I. Malishevskii, Aleksandriiskii Patriarkh Meletii Pigas i ego uchastvie v delakh russkoi tserkvi (Kiev, 1872), 2 vols.

94. On the Council of Constance, see above, note 5. The Council of Basel was convened in 1631 to correct various monetary abuses among the Roman Catholic hierarchy. Pope Eugene IV moved it to Ferrara in 1437 (see Chapter I note 52) but the conciliarist party at the council rebelled, deposing the Pope and sending their own fleet to Constantinople to get the Greeks' participation in a project of union. The Greeks, however, chose to go with the papal tleet to the Council of Ferrara-Florence, and the representatives at the Council of Basel finally recognized the reigning Pope Nicholas V and disbanded in 1449.

95. Marco Antonio de Dominis' book was published in 1617 and asserted that the Pope was only primus inter pares [first among equals] with no jurisdiction over other bishops.

96. Broriski was twice sent as ambassador to the Khan of Crimea. These visits inspired his valuable Descriptio Tataria (Colloniae Agripp 1585). [Author's note.] There is a Russian edition of this book, "Opisanie Kryma," in Zapiski Odesskago obshchestva istorii i drevnostei (Odessa, 1867), vol. IV.

97. Casimir Nesetskii's celebrated Book of Heraldry [Gerbovnik] mentions Bronski 9n flattering terms. [Author's note.]

98. The Apokrisis is known to have existed in at least two versions the original Polish and an adaption for West Russia. Bronski later went over to the Unia. [Author's note.]

99. The Instituriones Cbristianiae, the famous compendium of Calvinist theology was first printed at Basel in 1536 and revised and expanded until Calvin's death in 1559. See J. Calvin, Institutes of tbe Christian Religion, translated by F.L. Battles and edited by J.T. McNeill (Philadelphia, 1960), 2 vols.

100. Sigrandus Lubbertus (1556-1625), a strict Calvinist and follower of Beza, was a prolific writer who struggled against Catholics and Socinians.

101. Meletii Smotritskii (1578-1633) was educated both at the Orthodox school of Ostrog and the Jesuit college at Vilna. He was made Orthodox bishop of Polotsk in 1620 but was so severly persecuted by the Polish authorities that he was forced to take refuge with the Ukrainian Cossacks until he finally went over to the Unia in 1627. In the book cited here he deplored the current state of the Orthodox Church caused by the desertion of almost all the wealthy and influential Orthodox nobles. Smotritskii also published a grammar of Church Slavonic in 1619.

102. Zizani's treatise was included in a collection known as the Kirillova kniga (1644), which was quite popular in the 17th century in Moscow, where, of course, it was not known that the arguments originated from a Calvinist source. [Author's note.] Stephen Zizani was a teacher at the brotherhood schools in Lvov (where he was later rector) and Vilna. A vigorous opponent of the union, he published a book entitled The Roman Church in 1596, for which he was condemned as a heretic by the pro-Union synod of Brest in that same year. In 1599, at the instigation of the Uniate bishop Pociej he was banished from Vilna by King Sigismund III's order, and his subsequent fate is unknown.

103. Vladimir Peretts (1870-1936) was a noted Russian literary historian.

104. The Octoechos, or "book of eight tones," contains eight sets of special hymns used in a weekly cycle in the services of the Orthodox Church.

105. The Horologion is a service book containing the offices of the Hours, Typical Psalms, and the readers' and singers' parts of various other services.

106. Vishenskii's writings have been reproduced in Akty iuzhnoi i zapadnoi Rossii (St. Petersburg, 1865), II, 205-207.

107. Metropolitan Makarii (1816-1882) was a distinguished 19th century Russian historian and theologian, and was made metropolitan of Moscow in 1879. His main work is a thirteen volume Istoriia russkoi tserkvi (St. Petersburg, 1889-1903).

108. On Pociej, see above, note 87. Kirill Terletskii (d. 1607) was the Orthodox bishop of Lutsk. When Patriarch Jeremiah II of Constantinople passed through West Russia (see below), he appointed Terletskii his exarch and instructed him to call regular synods of the local episcopate. Terletskii, however, used these synods to make arrangements for the union with Rome, beginning with a meeting in Brest in 1590, just one year after Jeremiah's visit.

109. Nicephorus was Patriarch Jeremiah's vicar when the latter died in 1594, and had managed to maintain some measure of authority in the anarchy that followed in Constantinople. He was imprisoned as a spy (at the request of the Polish government) on his way through Wallachia, but Ostrozhskii managed to secure his release so he could preside over the Orthodox council. There was some question as to whether he had the power to do so, as the patriarchal see in Constantinople was vacant at the time. Cyril Lucaris, however, Patriarch Pigas' representative, who was certainly aware of the situation in Constantinople, deferred to him, and Pigas himself confirmed his decisions a year later. Early in 1598 Nicephorus was arrested by the Polish police as a Turkish spy and executed.

110. Luke of Belgrade had as one of his goals financial support.

111. Gedeon Balaban (d. 1607), the bishop of Lvov, was actually one of the first Orthodox bishops in West Russia to come out in favor of the union, signing pro-union declarations in Brest in 1590 and in Sokal in 1594. His name also appears on the June 1595 declaration that Pociej and Terletskii brought to Rome. By this time, however, he had renounced the idea of union and in July of that year he filed a formal protest in a local court charging that he had signed a blank piece of paper on which Terletskii was supposed to list complaints against the Polish government's oppression of the Orthodox Church. Thereafter he was a leading opponent of the Uniate Church and was named Meletius Pigas' exarch in 1597.

112. Mikhail Kopystenskii (d. 1610) was the bishop of Peremyshl, and was also an early supporter of the union who later became a leader of the Orthodox opposition.

113. He was actually a subject of the Ottoman empire, with which Poland had been on bad terms for some time. [Author's note.]

114. The Black Sea steppes had been left desolate from the Tatar devastations of the 13th and 14th centuries and it was to this region, beyond the control of governments, noblemen and landlords, that downtrodden peasants began to migrate in the late 15th century to carve a free life for themselves. These people, known as "Cossacks," were forced to organize into armed bands to defend their freedom against roving Tatar groups, and grew in strength and numbers throughout the 16th century. In the 1550's they built a fortress in the Zaporozhian ("below the rapids") region of the lower Dnieper River which became an early center of their military activity. Soon they became a potent military force, gaining mastery of the steppes against the Tatars and Turks, and a potent social force as well, setting up camps on noble estates in Lithuania and attracting the oppressed peasantry to their numbess. The Polish-Lithuanian government continually tried to subdue them, either by direct military action which met with some successes but never resulted in their ultimate submission, or by enlisting them in the services of their own foreign policy, which always backfired because the Polish government was never able to keep their promises to pay the Cossacks and respect their freedom. Because these Zaporozhian Cossacks were occasionally in the service of the kings of Poland they called themselves "knights," and because of the democratic social organization of their group they termed their army as a whole a "fellowship." For a good general account of the rise and the activities of the Cossacks see M. Hrushevskii, A History of the Ukraine (New Haven, 1941), 144-461.

115. Patriarch Jeremiah of Constantinople (d. 1594) passed through West Russia in 1586 on his way to Moscow, where he came to seek funds and ended up establishing the Moscow patriarchate, and again in 1588-89 on his return trip. The Polish authorities were unusually friendly to him, probably because they felt he himself was inclined towards union, but also because the papal nuncio Bolognetti and the Jesuit Possevino had earlier concocted a scheme to have Jeremiah move his see to either Kiev, Lvov or Vilna, where he would be under Roman influence. For the Catholic attitude to Jeremiah's journey see O. Halecki, From Florence to Brest (1439-1596), pp. 213-235.

116. Korolevskie privilei. The Grand Duchy of Lithuania was a loose confederation of "lands," and it was customary for the Grand Prince to guarantee the far reaching autonomy of these smaller principalities by privilei, or special "charters." This practice was then extended to the btotherhoods.

117. Theophanes was also on his way to Moscow to seek funds when he was asked by the Orthodox clergy in Kiev to consecrate a metropolitan and five other bishops for them. This time the Catholic authorities were extremely hostile, but the Orthodox Cossacks had achieved virtual mastery over the Kievan region and gave Theophanes their protection and a military escort in and out of the country.

118. Filaret was patriarch of Moscow from 1619 to 1633 and his son, Mikhail Romanov (1613-1645) was the first tsar of the Romanov dynasty, which lasted until 1917. Together they restored order in Russia after the "Time of Troubles."

119 Sagadaichny (d. 1622) had distinguished himself in leading sea raids against the Turks, sacking the suburbs of Constantinople on a number of occasions. He also led an expedition into Muscovy in 1618 which almost succeeded in taking Moscow itself. Through his military endeavors and also his diplomacy — keeping the Polish army at bay by agreeing to give in to their demands but stalling until the government needed his help — he was able to achieve Cossack mastery of the Ukraine. A firm Orthodox Christian and supporter of the Orthodox schools and the Kievan brotherhood, Sagadaichny's protection against the hostile Polish-Catholic authorities was invaluable for the revival of the Orthodox Church in West Russia.

120. Iov Boretskii (d. 1631) was an expert in Greek and Latin, as well as in the Church Fathers. Among his more noted works were Anthologion (a translation of Greek liturgical texts), (Kiev, 1619), and Apolliia apologia Meletiia Smotritskago (Kiev, 1628).

121. See above, note 101.

122. Kurtsevioh (d. 1626) was consecrated bishop of Vladimir in Volyrua. After he was made bishop, the Polish authorities, who did not recognize any of these consecrations, threatened to imprison him, and Kurtsevich was forced to flee to Muscovy, where he spent the last year of his life as the archbishop of Suzdal'.

123. The Orthodox representatives at the electoral diet in 1632 were strong enough to force Sigismund's son, Wladyslaw IV (1632-1648), to recognize the Orthodox metropolitanate of Kiev and four other episcopal sees, and to divide the church properties and monasteries between the Orthodox and the Uniates.

124. The Greek colony Nezhin, in the district of Chernigov, actually dates from this period. [Author's note.]

125. In later years Arsenius moved to Muscovy, receiving a bishopric first in Tver' and then in Suzdal'. [Author's note.] Patriarch Ieremiah of Constantinople had been deposed by the Turks in 1585, and his rival, Theoleptus II, who held the patriarchal throne from 1585 until Jeremiah's return to the patriarchate in 1586, had sent two emissaries to Moscow to solicit funds to satisfy the ever-present demands of the Turks. Arsenius was one of these emissaries. On his return trip he was informed that Theoleptus was out of power and he decided to remain in Lvov, where Jeremiah stopped on his way to Moscow. After conferring with him on the situation in Muscovy, Jeremiah decided to bring his former pupil along with him, and thus Arsenius made a second journey before moving there for good. He wrote an account of his travels in Greek, which was published with a Latin translation in Paris in 1749.

126. Constantine Lascaris (1434-1501) was a member of a former Byzantine imperial family. When Constantinople fell to the Turks in 1453 Lascaris fled to Italy, where he taught Greek at schools in Milan, Rome and Naples. His grammar, the Erotomata or Grammatica Graeca sive compendium octo orationis partium, published in 1476, was the first book ever printed in the Greek language and was highly intluential among European humanists.

127. Philipp Melanchthon (1497-1560), the great reformer who led the Protestant movement in Germany after the death of his friend Martin Luther, was the principal author of the Augsburg Confession. One of the leading European humanists and among the first to promote the study of Greek, he received the title "Preceptor of Germany" for his role in education. Melanchthon's Institutiones Graeca Grammatica was published in 1519.

128. Martin (Kraus) Crusius, a professor of Greek at Tubingen around 1555, was one of the very few scholars to take an interest in the contemporary Greek theologians and clergy. See his Germanograecia (Basel, 1585), and his Turco-Graeciae, libri octo (Basel, 1584).

129. Clenard (or Clenardus, 1495-1542) wrote both Greek and Hebrew grammars, which served as standard texts in many universities.

130. Pletenetskii (c. 1550-1624), a minor Galician noble, became abbot of the Monastery of the Caves [Pecherskaia Lavraj in 1599, and spent his first fifteen years there putting the monastery on solid ground both spiritually and financially. Then, with the indispensable aid of the Cossacks under his like-minded friend Hetman Sagadaichny (see note 119), he was able to begin a great cultural revival in Kiev, the intluence of which was felt for centuries in Ukrainian history.

131. This was the press which Ivan Fedorov (see above, note 51) had left in arrears when he died in Lvov in 1583. It was redeemed from local Jewish merchants by Bishop Gedeon Balaban and put to use by the Lvov brotherhood.

132. Pamvo Berynda (d. 1632), poet, translator, printer and a former member of the brotherhood in Lvov, was brought to Kiev in 1615 by Pletenetskii.

133. Leo Krevsa was Uniate archbishop of Smolensk from 1625 to 1639.

134. St. Andrew of Crete (c. 660-740) is known in the Orthodox Church primarily for his "Great Canon" read during the Lenten fast. His works are in Patrologia Graeca 97, 805-1443.

135. See below, Chapter III, section IV.

136. See above, note 61.

137. The word "Order" is not an eastern term. Though Orthodox, St. Basil's communal rule is designed more for an outward, militant organization; the Studite rule is aimed at inward, solitary piety. [Author's note.] St. Basil (see Chapter I, note 41) never composed a formal rule in the western sense of the word. His Asceticon, a series of questions and answers on monasticism, expressed his idea of monasticism as a communal life with emphasis on charity and liturgical prayer, as opposed to the life of the anchorite. When St. Theodore took over the Studion monastery (see Chapter I, note 20), he added to the communal organization there Palestinian traditions of continual, ascetic prayer, and it is this tradition of monastic life whicn spread to Mt. Athos and subsequently to Russia.

138. Tarasii Zemka (d. 1632) was a noted preacher and hieromonk of the Monastery of the Caves. He edited a Triodion (a service book containing hymns and prayers for Great Lent) which was published at Kiev in 1627.

139. Gabriel Severus (d. 1616) was the metropolitan of Philadelphia and the head of the Greek church in Venice. He had studied at the University of Padua and his Brief Tract on the Holy Sacraments made free of use of Latin scholastic arguments to combat the Protestants.

140. Kirill Trankvillion-Stavrovetskii (d. after 1646) had taught Greek at the brotherhood school in Lvov before coming to the Monastery of the Caves, and later was archimandrite at the Assumption Monastery in Chernigov. His Uchitel noe Evangelie was actually reprinted in 1668 and again in 1696.

141. See above, note 87.

142. Harmonia, albo concordantia viary, sakramentow y ceremoniy Cerkvi S. Orientalniey z Kosciolem s. Rzymskim (Vilna, 1608). [Author's note.]

143. For a time Arcudius was active in Poland. [Anthor's note.] Peter Arcudius, a Greek native of the island of Corfu, was the first gtaduate of the Greek College of St. Athanasius in Rome. He went from Rome to Poland in order to promote the Unia by attempting to convince the Orthodox that their rite would suffer no alteration after the union. See E. Legrand, Bibliographie hellenique du XVII siecle (Paris, 1895), III, 209-232.

144. Leo Allatius was another graduate of the College of St. Athanasius. In his later years he collected Greek and Syrian manuscripts for Pope Gregory XV's Eastern Library in the Vatican.

145. Meletius Pigas had studied in Augsburg. [Author's note.]

146. See above, note 80.

147. From the Foreword to his translation of Chrysostom's Homilies on St. Paul, Blessed Ioanna Zlatousta na poslanie Ap. Pavla (Kiev, 1623). [Author's note.]

148. This practice was also followed by Peter Mogila. [Author's note.]

149. "Hospodar" was an honorary title given to governors in Moldavia appointed by the Ottoman Porte.

150. Jan Zamoyski (d. 1605) was the most powerful and influential statesman in Poland, and the chief negotiator between the pro-union bishops of West Russia and the Polish crown in the early discussions which led to the Union of Brest. On the history of the Zamosc Academy, to which many young Orthodox nobles were sent, see J.K. Kochanowski, Dzieje Akademii Zamojskiej (Cracow, 1899-1900).

151. Stanislaw Zolkiewski was the illustrious commander-in-chief of the Polish armies in the late 16th and early 17th centuries who devastated the Cossack forces around the turn of the century and led a highly successful expedition into Muscovy in 1610, capturing the boyas Tsar Vasilii Shuiskii. He died in 1620 fighting the Turks.

152. John Charles Chodkiewicz, of the family which had earlier given Ivan Fedorov refuge, commanded the Lithuanian armies in the war with Sweden (1601-1606), suppressed the rebellious Polish gentry in 1606, invaded Muscovy with Zolkiewski in 1610, and also died in battle against the Turks in 1621.

153. Gavril Dometskoi was educated at the Kiev Academy and died in Kiev before 1725, but his role in Russian Church history was played out in Muscovy. As abbot of the Danilovskii monastery in Moscow and later as archimandrite in the Simonovskii monastery he became thoroughly embroiled in the late 17th century controversies between the Graeco-Slavonic and Latin parties siding with Medvedev's western leaning faction (these controversies are discussed in the next chapter, section V). Dometskoi was also involved in similar controversies in Novgorod. Cf. Russkii biograficheskii slovar' (Moscow, 1914), IV, pp. 36-37.

154. As quoted by Silvestr Kossov. [Author's note.] Silvestr Kossov (d. 1657) was a student at the Kiev Academy whom Peter Mogila sent to Polish colleges as well. He also taught in the Kiev Academy before becoming bishop of Mstislavl. On Mogila's death in 1647 Kossov succeeded him as metropolitan of Kiev. His works, written in both Russian and Polish, are discussed below, section VIII.

155. Isaia Kozlovskii (d. 1651), who taught for a while at the brotherhood school in Lvov, was brought to Kiev by Mogila in 1631. He soon became abbot of the Pustino-Nikolaevskii Monastery in Kiev and assisted Mogila in his educational activities throughout West Russia.

156. It was later transferred to the Goshchi or Hoszczy monastery in Volynia. [Author's note.]

157. Cf. the Polish order of the Piarists, "Ordo Piarum Scholarum." [Author's note.] The "Order of the Poor Clerics Regular of the Mother of God of the Pious Schools" was established in Rome in 1597 by Joseph Calasanctius (1556- 1648). Its purpose was to provide a free Catholic education for children, and the order spread rapidly enough for the Piarists to found their own colleges.

158. Joseph Dobrovskii (1753-1829) was a Bohemian Jesuit and philologist who did extensive studies on Slavic languages. Among his important works are Scriptores rerum bohemicarurji (Prague, 1783-4); Cyrillus and Metbodius, der Slawen Apostel (Prague, 1823); and Institutiones Linguae Slavonicae dialicti veteris (Vienna, 1822).

159. Smotritskii's grammar of Church Slavonic, modelled after Lascaris' Greek grammar, also served as a model for a succession of Russian grammars including that of Lomonosov. See E.S. Prokoshina, Meletii Smotritskii (Minsk, 1966). The complete title of Smotritskii's grammar is Grammatika slavenskaia pravilnoe sintagma po tshchaniem mnogogreshnago mnikha Meletiia Smotritskago (Vilna, 1619).

160. Iosafat Kuntsevich (1580-1623) organized the Uniate Basilian order of monks along with Veliamin Rutskii. Kuntsevich was murdered in an anti-union riot in Vitebsk in 1623, and is a saint of the Western Church.

161. Iov Boretskii, see above.

162. Isaia Kopinskii (d. 1640) had taught in the Ostrog school oefore becoming a monk in Kiev, where he distinguished himself by reorganizing several monastic communities. In 1620 he was consecrated bishop of Peremyshl by Patriarch Theophanes, but being unable to take possession of his see because of Polish harassment, he withdrew to Smolensk and directed his diocese from there. On the death of Iov Boretskii in 1631 Kopinskii became metropolitan of Kiev. Soon afterwards, however, with the legalization of the Orthodox Church in 1632, Peter Mogila also claimed the see of Kiev, and with the help of the Polish police he imprisoned Kopinskii in the Mikhailovskii Monastery. Kopinskii was given the direction of this monastery in 1634 when he promised not to act against Mogila, but he left Kiev in 1635 and spent the rest of his days in obscurity in various monasteries in Muscovy. See below.

163. Ieremia Tisarovskii (d. 1641) was a member of the Orthodox gentry. On the death of Gedeon Balaban in 1607 Tisarovskii was able to succeed him as Orthodox bishop of Lvov by promising to join the Unia. However, once he was made bishop he reneged on his promise, and after Mikhail Kopystenskii's death in 1610 he was the sole Orthodox bishop in all West Russia until Theophanes' consecrations in 1620. Finally, probably because he was willing.to participate in Mogila's consecration, Tisarovskii was confirmed in his see in 1632 by the Polish government.

164. Polish police arrested him and put him in prison. [Author's note.]

165. See above, section IV.

166. For an analysis of Mogila's Confession see the following section.

167. Afanasii (d. 1650) was himself a former Uniate. He is the author of a description of the Lutsk sobor of 1633, in Silvestr Kossov's Didaskalia (1638).

168. Sakovich, former rector of the brotherhood school in Kiev (see above, section V), had not only gone over to the Unia, but at the end of his life had become a firm Western Catholic, polemicizing against both Orthodox and Uniates.

169. Attributed to Mogila but probably, like his Confession, a composite work. [Author's nofe.]

170. In his reform work it seems that Mogila utilized a Croatian translation of the Roman Ritual made by the Dalmatian Jesuit Kasic and published in 1637. It is likely that the whole liturgical project of Peter Mogila was in some manner connected with the Illyrian Uniate movement, from whose circles there later appeared the enigmatic pan-Slav missionary Jurai Krizanic. [Author's note.] Bartol Kasic (1575-1650) also composed a Croation grammar for students in Rome. Jurai Krizanic (1617-1683) was educated in Jesuit circles in Rome. In 1647 he was sent on an unsuccessful mission to convert the Russians to Catholicism, after which he returned to Rome and wrote several treatises on the Russians and the Orthodox Church. Then, in 1659, Kriz'anic left for the Ukraine with no official permission and travelled incognito on to Moscow, where he worked as a translator at the tsar's court. He was discovered in 1661 and exiled to Siberia, where he wrote a grammar for a proposed pan-Slavic language and an appeal to the tsar to unite all Slavic peoples in a common struggle against the Germans. In 1676 Krizanic was released and returned to Poland, wheie he served as a chaplain in the Polish army until his death in the Turkish siege of Vienna.

171. The viaticum, Latin for "provision for a journey," is the Eucharist given to the dying, more commonly known as "last rites."

172. The Ordo commendationis ad animae exitum de corpore or "Office of prayers for the separation of soul and body," are read over the body of the deceased immediately after a person dies.

173. The rite of Passias is an evening service celebrated during great Lent which contains a Gospel reading pertaining to Christ's passion.

174. The Office of Propaganda [Propaganda Fide] was founded during the pontificate of Gregory XV (1621-1623) as a central organization for the direction of all missionary work in the Roman Church. Ingoli (1578-1649), a priest from Ravenna, was its first secretary.

175. See above, note 155.

176. As early as 1628 from West Russia, Smotritskii, in his Apologia had questioned the views of Lucaris, with which he had become acquainted through the Katekhizis and personal conversation. [Author's note.]

177. Meletius Syrigos (d. 1667), a philosophy professor in Constantinople, exarch of the ecumenical patriarch and religious adviser to the Moldavian Prince Basil Lupul (see note 180), was one of the most learned men of his time. There is a biography of him by a contemporary, Patriarch Dositheus (see below note 200), in E. Legrand, Bibliographie Hellenique du XVII siecle (Paris, 1894), II.470-472. See also J. Pargoire, "Meletios Syrigos, sa vie et ses oeuvres Echos d' Orient (Constantinople, 1909), vol. XII, nos. 74, 76, 78, and 79. On his editing of Mogila's Confession, see below.

178. Mogila apparently accepted the Roman Catholic doctrine of the immediate entry into Paradise of the souls of the saints.

179. Creationism is the belief that the soul is created by God and infused into the fetus at the moment of conception.

180. Basil Lupul, ruler of Moldavia from 1634 to 1653, was responsible for a broad cultural revival in his homeland founding many schools, including an academy at Iasi where he also established a printing press. An extremely wealthy man, he personally financed the operations of the patriarchate of Constantinople and presided over the council at Iasi in the ancient manner of the Byzantine emperors. See S. Runciman, The Great Church in Captivity (Cambridge, 1968), pp. 341-343.

181. Porphyrius (d. 1652) was sent to this assembly by Patriarch Parthenius I, who held the see of Constantinople from 1638 to 1642, and Meletius Syrigos was sent by the new patriarch, Parthenius II.

182. Metropolitan Varlaam (c. 1590-1657) was the head of the Orthodox Church in Moldavia and the executor of the educational and publishing projeots financed by Basil Lupul.

183. Oksenovich (d. 1650) was a professor and rector of the Kiev collegium, and a noted preacher. Shortly before his death he was elected bishop of Mstislavl.

184. Kononovich (d. 1653) served as the head of several monasteries in Kiev before becoming bishop of Mogilev in 1650.

185. The full title was Zebranie krotkiey nauki o artykulach wiary prawoslawno katholickiey chrzescianskiey. [Author's note.]

186. Varlaam Iasinskii lived at a time when the Ukraine was politically divided between Poland and Russia, and the clergy was divided between allegiance to the patriarch of Constantinople and submission to the patriarch of Moscow. Varlaam himself, who was educated at the Kiev collegium and also at the Catholic Academy of Cracow, and served as rector of the Kiev collegium and abbot of the Monastery of the Caves, wanted to remain under the Ecumenical Patriarch. Therefore, when the patriarch of Moscow offered to consecrate him metropolitan of Kiev in 1686, Varlaam refused to go to Moscow for his elevation and likewise refused to recognize Metropolitan Gedeon, who was consecrated in his place. However, after the patriarch of Constantinople ceded the jurisdiction of Kiev to Moscow in 1687, Varlaam finally agreed to succeed Gedeon and was consecrated metropolitan of Kiev, Galicia, and all Little-Russia in 1690 in Moscow.

187. Adrian (1690-1700) was the last patriarch of Moscow before Tsar Peter's restructuring of the Russian Orthodox Church (see Chapter IV). Already old and feeble when he became patriarch, Adrian was able to accomplish little more than strengthening Peter's resolve to do away with the patriarchate by interceding on behalf of the streltsy who revolted in 1698.

188. Cf. A.S. Zernova, Knigi kirillovskoi pechati izdannye v Moskve v XYI-XYIII vekakh (Moscow, 1958), no. 215, 69. A compreherisive work giving tne full text can be found in A. Malvy and M. Viller, La Confession orthodox de Pierre Moghila, Orientalia Christiana (Rome, 1927), X, 39.

189. The Catechismus Romanus, or Catechismus ex decretis Concilii tridentini ad parochos, first appeared in 1566 and was a product of the decree of the Council of Trent (see note 196) that Catholic doctrine be clarified and defined in the face of the spread of Protestant heresies. Intended primarily as a reference book for Catholic pastors, it proved immensely popular and was almost immediately translated into all major European languages.

190. Peter Canisius (1521-1597) was the first Jesuit to engage himself in scholarly activities. He worked mainly on behalf of the Counter-Reformation in Germany, where he helped set up several Jesuit colleges.

191. Petrus (or Pedro) De Soto (1500-1563) entered into Spain the Order of Friars PreacheIs. As a student, his main interest was patrology and the councils of the Church. In 1542 Charles V of Spain made him his adviser and confessor. He restored and held the chair of theology (1549-1553) at the University of Dillingen. De Soto was later appointed Pope Pius IV's theologian at the Council of Trent. He died while attending the council. He authored several theological works. See A. Turon, Histoir des hommes illustres de 1'ordre de Saint Dominique, 6 v. (Paris, 1743-1749), vol. 4, 216-230.

192. Bellarmine also worked on the commission which produced the Sixtus-Clementine Vulgate. His Disputationes, a synthesis of both Catholic and Protestant theology, was written while Bellarmine was teaching at a school for missionaries in Rome.

193. See above, note 143.

194. The sacrament of anointing the sick, or "the oil of prayer" has two functions: bodily healing, and forgiveness of sins. It is not an Orthodox belief however, that anointment always results in a recovery of health. In the Roman Catholic Church ultima unctio, or "extreme unction," is intended only for the dying; Orthodox unction can be administered to any who are sick. See TimothyWare, The Orthodox Church (Battimore, 1967), p. 303.

195. The Portugese Jesuit Emmanuel Alvarius published a grammar in 1572 under the title De institutione grammatica libri tres (the three books being Etymology, Syntax and Prosody). The grammar gained wide acceptance in Europe and a revised edition appeared in 1583.

196. The Council of Trent, the 19th ecumenical council of the Roman Catholic Church, was held in 25 sessions from 1545 to 1563. Its purpose was to reform the church for a struggle against the Protestant Reformation and to clarify what is essential and what is subject to discussion in Catholic doctrine. Among the Catholic teachings which stem from this council are the authority of tradition next to Scripture, the authenticity of the Vulgate, the doctrine of justification, and the numbering of seven sacraments. Among the ecclesiastical reforms produced by this council are stipulations that a bishop reside in his diocese and the promotion of education by increasing the number of seminaries and the production of a general catechism (the Catechismus Romanus). There is a critical text of the decrees of the council in G. Alberigo, Conciliorum oeucumenicorum decreta (New York, 1962), 633-775.

197. Lazar Baranovich (c. 1620-1693), poet, preacher, publisher and anti-Catholic polemist, had himself been rector of the Kievan college from 1650 to 1658. He became archbishop of Chernigov in 1657 and simultaneously supported political union with Russia and ecclesiastical independence from the Moscow patriarchate.

198. In his Uniate days, Iavorskii was known as Stanislaus. [Author's note.] On Iavorskii, see below in this section.

199. "Sunt multi monachi vel uniti, vel unioni proximi, plurimi de rebus nostris optime sentientes . . . . Kyoviae Unum totum monasterium est unitorum." From a letter written in 1699 by a Jesuit, Father Emilian, who was in Moscow at the time. [Author's note.]

200. Dositheus was patriarch of Jerusalem from 1669 to 1707, and during his long tenure he proved himself to be the most influential and respected figure in the entire Orthodox world. As a scholar he was known for his History of the Patriarchs of Jerusalem (Bucharest, 1715), which was actually a history of the entire Orthodox Church, as well as numerous editions of the Church Fathers, with which he was thoroughly familiar. As a polemist his chief work was the Enchiridion against the Errors of Calvinism (Bucharest, 1690). Although he also guarded carefully against Catholic influences in the Church, his opposition to the Protestants led him into the support of Mogila's Confession, for which he wrote a foreword in the Greek edition of 1699. Dositheus produced his own Confession (actually authored by four contemporary prelates, with the final editing done by Dositheus) which was approved by a synod in Jerusalem in 1672 and published a few years later at the famous press which he himself financed at Iasi: This Confession was, on the whole, free of the obvious Latin influences in Mogila's statement, and only resorted to Catholic terminology when defending the Orthodox doctrine of the Eucharist against the Protestants. See S. Runciman, The Great Church in Captivity, pp. 347-353.

201. Ossorius, bishop Jeronimo Osdrio, professor at the University of Coimbra. Author of several works, including biblical commentaries, was known as the "Portuguese Cicero." His "Postilla" was recommended to the clergy of Poland by two Synods of Vilno (1602 and 1613). [Fr. Janusz A. Ihnatowicz].

202. This is most probably a reference to Piotr Fabricius (1552-1622), whose original Polish name was Kowalski. A Jesuit (from 1570), he was a popular preacher and respected theologian. In 1608 he became the first native born provincial of Polish Jesuits. He translated The Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis, as well as some works by Robert Bellarmine. There was another well-known Fabricius, Walenty, also a Jesuit (1563-1626), at one time a very popular preacher in Krakow. [Fr. Janusz A. Ihnatowicz].

203. See above, note 80.

204. Tomasz Mtodzianowski was a famous Jesuit theologian, canonist and preacher of the seventeenth century (1622-1686). He was widely travelled, including missionary work in Turkey (Smyrna) and Persia and the author of more than thirty Latin and Polish works. His sermons of high religious and literary quality put him on a level with Skarga. [Fr. Janusz A. Ihnatowicz].

205. See note 197.

206. Radivillovskii (d. before 1700) had been an archdeacon at the cathedral in Charnigov and abbot of the Pustino-Nikolaevskii Monastery in Kiev before coming to the Monastery of the Caves.

207. He was frequently paired with Zernikav because of the assumption that he, too, was born in Konigsberg. He was professor of philosophy at the Kiev collegium and later became archimandrite of the Monastery of the Caves. He also authored the Opus totius philosophiae (1645-47, extant only in manuscript form). It has, however, recently been argued that Gizel was a Ruthenian.

208. Samuil Mislavskii (1731-1796) was an instructor and rector of the Kiev collegium who became metropolitan of Kiev in 1783. He compiled a Latin grammar in 1765 which was long considered the best in the Russian language, and was known as a devoted follower of the Enlightenment ideals popular during the reign of Catherine the Great (1762-1796). Under their sway he reformed the curriculum of the academy to include such subjects as mathematics and geography.

209. Laurentius Surius (1522-1578), a Carthusian monk at Cologne, was one of the few western scholars to concern himself with spiritual works in the Counter-Reformational period.

210. The Menologion, a collection of the lives of 148 saints arranged according to the Church calendar. St. Symeon Metaphrastes (c. 900-984) was also known for his spiritual poems, sermons and letters.

211. The Bollandists are members of a Jesuit society organized in the 17th century by Jean Bolland for the scholarly study and publication of lives of saints.

212. Cornelius a Lapide (van der Steen, 1568-1637) was a professor of exegesis at Louvain and Rome. His commentaries on the Bible, with their abundant quotations from the Fathers, were highly popular in Roman Catholic theological circles. See T.W. Mossman, The Great Commentary of Cornelius a Lapide (London, 1881).

213. Martin Becan (1563-1624) was a Jesuit theologian and polemist. His chief works were Summa theologiae scholasticae (Mainz, 1612), 4 vol., and Controversia anglicana de potestate regis et pontificis (Mainz, 1612), in which he defended the morality of assassinating a king.

214. See his polemical Inquiry into the schismatic faith in Brynsk [Rozysk o raskol'nich'ei brynskoi vere, 1709]. [Author's note.]

215. Iavorskii's Kamen' very was completed in 1718, but was not published until 1728, after his death. There is a three volume edition of the book published in Moscow in 1841-42.

216. Tomas Malvenda (1566-1628) was a Spanish theologian and Hebrew scholar who, in addition to his treatise on the Antichrist, worked on corrections of liturgical texts for Pope Clement VIII and helped compile an Index for the Spanish Inquisition.

217. By the time Ivan Stepanovich Mazepa became hetman of the Ukraine east of the Dnieper River that titled signified little more than a military governor of a vassal state of Russia. During his rule Mazepa proved himself completely incapable of checking the gradual enserfment of the peasants and the creation of a new noble class of Cossack officers who took over the titles and privileges formerly held by their Polish masters which the Cossacks had fought against for over two centuries. Meanwhile, as a military leader Mazepa was compelled to lead his forces wherever Tsar Peter the Great ordered, fighting with Russia against the Turks and Tatars from 1695 to 1699 and afterwards against the Swedes. Finally, when Sweden invaded the Ukraine in 1708 Mazepa deserted Tsar Peter's troops, suffered defeat with the Swedes at the battle of Poltava in 1709, and died in the fall of that year. Mazepa's only real achievement, and a noteworthy one, was his patronage of Ukrainian religious and cultural life. He used the great wealth acquired from his office to finance churches, monasteries and schools, rebuilding the Monastery of the Caves in Kiev and erecting new facilities for the Kiev Academy.

218. As a point of fact, in the Roman Church at that time the teaching of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary was not a dogma, but an opinion of private piety sponsored by the lesuits and Franciscans, while resisted by the Dominicans. [Author's note.]

219. In the Orthodox Church "panagia" ["All-holy"] refers not to Mary's sinlessness in a juridical sense, but to her perfect obedience in accepting the Word of God, for which she is glorified and able to intercede for us. "Theotokos" ["Mother of God"] is actually a Christological term, related to the teaching that the two natures of Christ are united in one person, whom Mary gave birth to, and was confirmed by the Third Ecumenical Council at Ephesus in 431. On the Orthodox Church's veneration of Mary see the articles by Father Florovsky and Vladimir Losskii in E.L. Mascall, ed., The Mother of God (London, 1949).

220. Religious architecture was especially abundant, since Mazepa was an ardent builder. [Author's note.]

Notes to Chapter III.

1. The Time of Troubles [Smutnoe Vremia] refers to that period of internal strife and foreign intervention which resulted in utter chaos in Russia in the early 17th century.

The Russian State had been formed by the alliance of various appanage principalities under one Grand Prince. Thus the Russian princely aristocracy had deep rooted traditions of independence and autonomy and tended to think of themselves more as servitors by contract than subjects of the tsar. The 16th century, however, had witnessed a shift in the bases of political power away from the aristocratic boyars and toward a service gentry whose position was dependent upon the favor of the tsar. In other words, all power was gradually consolidated in the tsar's hands. But although this development could be considered part of a natural socio-economic process, it was cruelly accelerated by Ivan the Terrible and his oprichnina. Tied to this was the gradual enserfment of the peasantry: military and economic necessities demanded that the peasants' traditional freedom of movement between estates be drastically curtailed.

Thus when Ivan died in 1584 he left his feeble-minded son Fedor a realm severely weakened by terror and with two significant social groups, the boyars and the peasantry, seething with resentment toward the throne. The actual direction of state affairs passed into the hands of Boris Godunov, a capable administrator who was able to bring some measure of economic revival to Russia, but as Fedor had no heir it was clear that the Rurik dynasty was coming to an end and the door was open for a struggle over the throne. Boris himself became tsar upon Fedor's death in 1598 and temporarily secured his position by exiling his opponents. Then a famine from 1601 to 1603 brought economic devastation to the realm and the stage was set for the "Troubles" proper to begin.

In 1604 a pretender to the throne arose claiming to be Ivan's son Dimitrii, who had died in 1591. With the tacit support of the Polish crown he invaded Muscovy with a small army supplied by a few adventuristic Polish nobles. His own forces were not very significant, but the beleaguered and destitute peasants flocked to support him, as did the Cossacks. Still Boris was able to keep them at bay, but when he died in 1605 the boyars revolted against his son and successor Fedor Godunov and proclaimed their allegiance to the false Dimitrii, who entered Moscow and was enthroned as tsar. The Muscovite boyars never intended to serve this dissolute and obvious fraud, and soon stirred a popular uprising against him in which the false Dimitrii was murdered. Then in June of 1606 the leading boyar, Vasilii Shuiskii became tsar. Vasilii, however, knew no peace, for peasant revolts began immediately and a second pretender appeared in 1608, also supported by Polish nobles. The final blow came in 1610 when King Sigismund III of Poland entered the conflict openly and in August of that year his troops captured Moscow.

At this point the tide began to turn as a spirit of national resistance to Polish domination gradually united the various Russian social strata. Moscow was recaptured in 1612, and the following year Mikhail Romanov was elected tsar by a zemskii sobor [assembly of the land]: This event traditionally marks the end of the Time of Troubles, but the wounds suffered by Russia during this period were not to be easily healed, and restoration of order and reconstruction were the dominant themes at all levels of Russian society for many years to come.

See S.F. Platonov, The Time of Troubles, translated by John T. Alexander, (University Press of Kansas, 1970).

2. Ioann Neronov (1591-1670) was a priest in the Nizhnii-Novgorod region whose zeal in combatting drunkenness and moral laxity was typical of the early "reformers," as was his outspokenness. In 1632 he ran afoul of Tsar Mikhail's government by criticizing it for bringing foreign advisors into Muscovy and preparing an invasion of Poland one year before the expiration of a peace treaty signed in 1613. However, after the accession of Aleksei Mikhailovich in 1645 he was appointed archpriest of the Kazanskii Cathedral in Moscow and was one of the senior members of the circle of "zealots" around Archpriest Stefan Vonifat'ev (see below). He again fell out of favor when he opposed the importing of Kievan scholars in 1650 and in 1653 he was exiled for opposition to Nikon's reforms and harsh, personal attacks on the patriarch. In 1655 he returned to Moscow disguised as a monk and two years later he formally accepted the reforms and was made archimandrite in the Pereiaslavskii monastery. Neronov's spirit of compromise was extremely rare among the Old Believers.

3. Archpriest Awakum was the most gifted of the early leaders of the schism and exercised a signficant spiritual intluence over the Old Believers throughout thirty years of persecution for his beliefs and for many years after his death in 1682. A generation removed from Neronov (he was born c.1620) he was also a priest in the Nizhnii-Novgorod region who came to Moscow and joined Vonifat'ev's circle in the 1640's. When Neronov was exiled in 1653 for opposing Nikon's reforms Awakum authored a petition on his behalf and was also exiled to Siberia. In 1664 he was brought back to Moscow through the interventions of the boyars, who hoped his opposition to Nikon would help them in their own struggle against the patriarch. Awakum, however, remained so intransigent on the question of the reforms that he was again arrested and at a council in 1666 (see below, note 35) defrocked and exiled to an underground cell in Pustozersk. He lived there, with two other leaders of the schism, for sixteen years, during which time his cell served as a center for Old Believer leadership and inspiration. In 1682 he was burned at the stake. While he was in exile Awakum wrote his famous Life of Archpriest Avvakum by Himself, a masterpiece of early Russian literature, a primary source for the history of the schism, and also, as Avvakum served as chaplain to Pashkov's Siberian expedition in 1655, an important geographical and cultural source for the study of 17th century Russia in general. It is reprinted in Volume II of The Collected Works of George P. Fedotov.

4. Sergei Mikhailovich Solov'ev (1820-1879) was a Russian historian and professor and rector of the University of Moscow. His main work is the monumental History of Russia from Ancient Times [Istoriia Rossii c drevneishikh vremen] (29 vols., Moscow, 1851-1879).

5. A Muscovite name for Ukrainians, used especially in the 16th and 17th centuries.

6. The year 1620 witnessed two councils on rebaptism. At the first, in Moscow in October, Latin "heresies" were condemned and it was decided to rebaptize Roman Catholics. This council was reconvened in December, and directed that Ukrainians and West Russians who were not baptized by triple immersion be rebaptized while those baptized by Uniate priests undergo a week's fast and formally abjure the Catholic faith. These rules were inserted in the 1639 Trebnik and were the law until 1667.

7. See above, chapter II, p. 60.

8. See above, chapter II, p. 59.

9. Epifanii Slavinetskii (d. 1676) was a learned monk from Kiev who came to Moscow in 1649 for translation work and later become one of Nikon's chief assistants in his service book corrections. Epifanii also was the leader of the Bible translation project begun in 1674. His works are discussed below.

10. Dionisii (1570-1633) was a noted figure in his time. Born David Fedorovich Zobninovskii, he was a priest in the village of Rzhev. After the death of his wife he became a monk at the Bogoroditskii Monastery in Starits and took the name Dionisii. In 1605 he was made archimandrite of that monastery, and began to make frequent trips to Moscow on monastery business. There he became friends with Patriarch Germogen and worked closely with him trying to maintain order in the church during the Time of Troubles. In early 1610 Dionisii was made archimandrite of the Holy Trinity Monastery. This was shortly after the end of a sixteen month siege by the Polish invaders, who soon after captured Moscow. Although the monastery itself never fell to the Poles, it was left devastated and filled with sickness, famine and thousands of corpses. Dionisii's chief task was to reorganize and revitalize the monastery, but he also played a heroic role in Russia's liberation. Together with his kelar' Avraamii Palitsyn, he wrote numerous epistles urging the divided factions of Russian society to unite against the foreign invaders, and these letters seem to have influenced the military leaders of the forces which finally drove out the Poles. In the period after the Time of Troubles, while Patriarch Filaret was bringing order to the administrative affairs of the church, Dionisii stood at the center of a circle concerned with spiritual rejuvenation. Book printing and correction, using Greek texts, and a concern for morality and spirituality were the main objects of their program. Thus Dionisii's activity anticipated that of the next generation of reformers, the "zealots" (see below).

11. Loggin was the conductor of the Holy Trinity Monastery choir who edited the Typikon for a 1610 publication. Filaret, his ecclesiarch, also collaborated on it. Both doubtless were resentful of Dionisii's changes.

12. Metropolitan Iona (Arkhangel'skii, d. 1621) was formerly the head of the Trinity-Danilov Monastery in Pereiaslavl. In 1613 he became metropolitan of Krutitsk (a vicar of the Patriarch of Moscow) and was entrusted with the management of patriarchal affairs until the return from Polish captivity of Filaret (see below). He himself was later suspended for receiving two Latin converts without rebaptizing them.

13. Antonii Podol'skii was a West Russian monk who lived in Moscow during the early part of the 17th century. He is known also as the author of another treatise, Slovo o tsarstve nebesnom, Bogom darovannon i vechnom, i o slave sviatikh, and as the compiler of a chronograph, which was never published.

14. Fedor Nikitich Romanov (d. 1633), a first cousin of Tsar Fedor Ivanovich, was a popular and influential boyar who was one of three candidates for the Russian throne in 1598, when Boris Godunov was elected. Soon after he was exiled for plotting against Boris (the rumors of Boris Godunov's involvement in Tsarevich Dimitrii's death in 1591 apparently were first spread by the Romanov family) and forced to become a monk. This was political death, for once tonsured it was forever impossible to become tsar. Fedor, now Filaret, then began a new career in the Church. The first pretender returned him to Moscow in 1606 and had him consecrated Metropolitan of Riazan, and the second pretender had him elected Patriarch in 1608, although he was not formally installed at this time. Filaret's position was still hardly secure in that era of intrigue and broken fortunes, and in 1611 he was deported to Poland by King Sigismund III along with many other high ranking Russian nobles. He remained there for eight years. In 1613 Filaret's thirteen year old son Mikhail was elected the new tsar by a zemskii sobor [assembly of the land]. From that time onward there was no question as to who the next patriarch would be. An exchange of prisoners with Poland was arranged in 1618, and on June 14, 1619 Filaret entered Moscow in great solemnity and splendor with his son Tsar Mikhail falling on his knees to greet him. Ten days later he was enthroned as patriarch by Patriatch Theophanes of Jerusalem. Patriarch Filaret was wise with experience, forceful and self-assured. Tsar Mikhail, in contrast was weak-minded and timid and easily gave in to his father's will. Thus Filaret practically ruled the Russian state as well as the Church and received the title Velikii Gosudar' [Great Sovereign], previously reserved only for the tsars. (Patriarch Nikon also later claimed this title). In the Church Filaret's power was supreme, and according to the provisions of a special charter from his son the Church was virtually Filaret's own eparchy, a state within a state. Filaret's years of exile had made him extremely suspicious of foreigners, and he insisted on rebaptism as a condition of entry into the Russian Orthodox Church, even of Kievans. Although not very spiritual, Filaret proved a strong and capable administrator, and even began a project to establish a school for the clergy in Moscow, but his death in 1633 brought an end to his plans.

15. Patriarch Theophanes of Jerusalem came to Moscow in April of 1619 and consecrated Filaret patriarch in June of that year. On his return trip he ordained the Ukrainian hierarchy (see above, chapter II, note 117). At the request of Patriarch Filaret he obtained the opinions of the other eastern patriarchs on the phrase "and with fire," and upon receiving their decision Filaret ordered the words deleted from the service books.

15a. Tsar Aleksei (d. 1676), the only son of the first Romanov Tsar Mikhail, ascended the throne on his father's death in 1645 at the age of 16. With the help of several competent advisors, during his thirty year reign he strengthened the internal state of Russia and the power of the tsar with the Law Code of 1649 (see note 27) and expanded his dominions by annexing the Ukraine east of the Dnieper River (including Kiev) and defending his acquisitions through a drawn-out war with Poland. He is perhaps best known, however, for the affair of Patriarch Nikon and the Church schism which occurred during his reign. Aleksei was a pious and kind man who gave richly to the poor and homeless, and in the early part of his reign he warmly supported the activity of the "Zealots," especially that of his close personal friend Nikon. Nikon's abrasive personality and court intrigues then drew the two apart, and drew Aleksei away from the reformers' spiritual activities, until after 1667 many disciples of the Zealots who turned Old Believers called Aleksei the "Antichrist."

16. Stefan Vonifat'ev had been in charge of Tsar Aleksei's religious upbringing and was in a large degree responsible for his personal piety, as well as the numerous decrees involving religious observances put out in the early part of his reign. Stefan himself was a candidate for the patriarchal throne in 1652 but he refused out of humility. The circle of "zealots" first became divided when the Kievan scholars were brought to Moscow in 1650, with the future schismatics Neronov and Awakum distrustful of their learning and variant liturgical practices. The circle split for good after Nikon's reforms. Vonifat'ev stayed with the official church, but also remained sympathetic to the pious zeal of the Old Believers. He himself was revered by both sides and even Awakum, who rarely had a good word to say about anyone, especially those in the Nikonian Church, called Vonifat'ev" a wise and virtuous man, always having a word of pious instruction in his mouth." Stefan Vonifat'ev died in 1656.

17. Fedor Mikhailovich Rtishchev (1625-1673) was a pious nobleman whose many acts of charity to victims of poverty, war and famine brought him to the attention of Tsar Aleksei and thence to his court. Rtishchev used his position and the tsar's patronage to build the Holy Transfiguration Monastery (no longer in existence) on his own land outside of Moscow and a hostel for the poor in Moscow itself. He also gave material support to the Kievan monks who came to Muscovy and encouraged their translation activity.

18. See, for example, the neo-Hellenic motifs in 17th century Muscovite iconography, especially in the works of Simon Ushakov. [Author's note]. Ushakov (1626-1686) is the best known Russian iconographer of the second half of the 17th century.

19. See above, note 9.

20. Arsenii Satanovskii was educated at the Kiev Academy and then was a hieromonk at the Kiev Brotherhood Monastery. He was called to Moscow along with Epifanii Slavinetskii for work on Greek texts, but Arsenii in fact did not know Greek (see N. Kapterev, Protivniki Patriarkha Nikona, [Moscow, 1887], p. 21). However, he did produce translations of several Latin theological texts.

21. Damaskin Ptitskii was another scholarly hieromonk from the Monastery of the Caves in Kiev. In Moscow he worked for a time at the Moscow Printing Office and at the Chudov Monastery with Epifanii Slavinetskii, but exactly what he produced in unknown, as are any subsequent details of his life.

22. See above, chapter II, note 101.

23. On Mogila's Trebnik see pp. 71-72. The fifty-first chapter dealt with the sacrament of marriage and the degrees of kinship which made marriage impossible. This chapter was borrowed entirely from the Roman Ritual of Pope Paul V. The Kormchaia kniga is a Slavic translation of the Byzantine Nomocanon, a collection of apostolic canons, the canons of the ecumenical councils, and in general the civil and ecclesiastical laws of the Byzantine Empire. It was known in manuscript form in Russia since the 11th century, but its publication in 1650 was its first printing in any language.

24. The Kirillova kniga is a collection of various polemical tracts designed to serve as a compendium of the Orthodox faith during the religious debates of 1644 (see note 103). Its title comes from the Sermon of St. Cyril of Jerusalem on the Antichrist, which opens the book.

25. The Kniga o vere, compiled by the Kievan monk Nathaniel, contained polemics against Lutherans, Uniates and Jews. It was published in Moscow in 1648.

26. Cf. the Kievan, or "Polish" singers in the Monastery of St. Andrew who were later employed by Nikon. In general, the Monastery was populated by Ukrainian monks. [Author's note].

27. The Ulozhenie [Code of Laws] of 1649, or the Sobornoe Ulozhenie, was the product of a Zemskii sobor held in 1648-1649 to codify the laws and bring order to the government of the Russian realm. The law code was the first since the Sudebnik of 1550 and remained the basic law of Russia until 1832. More important, however, was the Ulozhenie's reorganization of the state. At that time the government was paralyzed by confusion, as was apparent to all from Russia's failure to take the city of Azov (recently captured by the Cossacks and offered to the tsar) and recent riots in Moscow. There was no delineation of the rights and responsibilities of the various classes of people and little coordination of the several government departments that issued laws in their own name. Furthermore, the patriarch was head of a realm virtually independent of the secular authorities. The Ulozhenie contained 25 chapters, dealing with state organization, judicial procedure, property, classes of persons, and a criminal statute. As regards the Church, the Ulozhenie was the first code to contain legislative norms for the Church at all, bringing ecclesiastics under the jurisdiction of lay courts, and ordering the creation of the Monastyrskii Prikaz to oversee legal claims against the Church and Church administration. It was also with this code that the enserfment of the Russian peasantry became complete.

28. After the visit of Patriarch Paisios of Jerusalem to Moscow in 1649 (see below), in which he discussed the many differences between the Greek and Russian rites with Tsar Aleksei and Patriarch Iosif, they decided to send someone to the East to study the Greek practices. This commission was entrusted to Arsenii Sukhanov, hieromonk and kelar' at the Holy Trinity monastery. Arsenii travelled with Paisios to Iasi, then went to Mt. Athos and returned to Russia in December of 1650. He embarked on a second trip in 1651 to Constantinople; Greece, Egypt and Jerusalem, returning to Moscow with over 700 Greek manuscripts in June of 1653. In his accounts of his travels, especially Preniia o vere (a debate on the faith with an Athonite starets), Arsenii expresses much the same views on the Greek and Russian rituals that the opponents of Nikon's reforms held, and his works gained great popularity among the Old Believers. Arsenii died in 1668.

29. Arsenii came to Russia in 1649 with Patriarch Paisios, and seeing the need in Muscovy for educated clerics decided to stay there and seek his fortune. There are some indications that he opened a school for youths in 1649, but most likely this was in 1653. After Patriarch Paisios left Moscow he wrote to Tsar Aleksei denouncing Arsenii for his past and Arsenii was sent to the Solovetskii Monastery on the White Sea for penance. But when Nikon became patriarch in 1652 Arsenii was allowed to return to Moscow and installed in the Chudov Monastery, where he opened his school, and was put to work on Nikon's book corrections.

30. Patriarch Paisios of Jerusalem came to Moscow in January of 1649 seeking alms for his church. While there he spoke at length with Tsar Aleksei and Nikon, pointing out the differences between the Greek and Russian rites and calling on the tsar to be another Moses and deliver his fellow Orthodox Christians from the Turkish yoke. His prestige as patriarch of an ancient see and his flattery of the tsar seem to have greatly impressed both Aleksei and Nikon and inspired them with the "ecumenical" goal of aligning the Russian ritual more closely to the Greek.

31. See above, chapter II, note 177.

32. Makarios was patriarch of Antioch from 1647 until his death in 1672. During his patriarchate he made two trips to Russia, mainly for alms to pay the debts of his see. The first journey brought him to Moscow in 1655, and later he was present at the Council of 1666-67 (see below). He is chiefly known in history, however, for the diaries of his travels published by his son, Archdeacon Paul of Aleppo. There is an English translation of this work: The Travels of Macarius, Patriarch of Antioch, 2 vol, translated by F.C. Belfour (New York, 1969).

33. Orthodox Sunday is the first Sunday of Great Lent, on which a special service is held commemorating the victory over the iconoclasts in 843 and denouncing all heresies. It was on this Sunday in 1655 that Nikon fulminated against the "Frankish" and Polish icons.

34. The Euchologion, or "blessing book," is a service book that contains all the rites for the sacraments of the Church as well as other ceremonies for special occasions.

35. This council was held in April of 1666 and was composed solely of Russian bishops. Its purpose was to condemn the Old Believer movement, but for their opposition to the Church authorities, not for their beliefs as such. It was at this council that Avvakum was defrocked and sent into exile for the second time.

36. The Council of 1666-67 was the most splendid and momentous in Russian Church history up to that time. Convoked by Tsar Aleksei in the manner of the ancient Byzantine emperors, it was presided over by two patriarchs, Paisios of Alexandria and Makarios of Antioch. At the first session, held in December of 1666, Nikon was formally tried for, among other things, desertion of his see and disrespect for the tsar, deposed to the rank of a simple monk, and exiled to the Ferapontov Monastery in Beloozero. At a second session in April of 1667 those who refused to accept the new service books were anathematized, but this time not for disciplinary reasons; the traditional pre-Nikonian Russian ritual itself was condemned (see below).

37. Simeon of Polotsk (1629-1680), poet, preacher and erudite, came to Moscow in 1663 and quickly rose high in court service. He was a leading proponent of western ideas and customs and served as a tutor for the tsar's children. See below, pp. 106-108.

38. Dionysios lived in Moscow from 1655 to 1669. From 1663 he was the chief editor of the Moscow Printing Office.

39. The Stoglav (100 chapters) council was held in 1551 under Metropolitan Makarii of Moscow (1542-1563). It climaxed a period of extreme nationalist feeling, when Ivan IV was crowned "tsar" (or emperor) and forty-five Russian saints were canonized. At the council the Russian Orthodox Church was proclaimed superior to all other Eastern Churches. See chapter I, pp. 26-28.

40. Paisios Ligarides (1609-1678) was a brilliant but deceptive scholar and an absolutely shameless opportunist. Educated at Rome and ordained a Uniate prelate, he travelled throughout the Orthodox East diving into any situation where an opportunity for riches presented itself, and held various positions in the Orthodox Crhurch (such as metropolitan of Gaza) while receiving regular missionary stipends from Rome. He played a major role in the history of the Russian Church of this time, first ingratiating himself with Nikon and then becoming the chief spokesman for his opponents and the orchestrator of the Council of 1666-1667. See below, p. 108.

41. Iurii Samarin (1819-1876) was a Russian statesman and Slavophile ideologue. Although he was not a professional scholar, he is known in the field of historiography for his brilliant master's thesis at the University of Moscow, in which he conterposed the Protestant and Catholic directions of Russian theological thought of the early 18th century as personified in Feofari Prokopovich and Stefan Iavorskii.

42. Nikon's Razorenie or Vozrazhenie was written in 1664 in response to Ligarides' answers to the "Questions of Streshnev" (see note 88). In it Nikon refuted the accusations brought against him point by point and gave a full exposition of his ideas regarding the relationship of Church and state. It is printed in English translation in William Paliner, The Patriarch and the Tsar (London, 1871-1876), volume I.

43. Erastianism is the doctrine that the state is superior to the Church in all matters, even the purely ecclesiastical. It is named for the Swiss physician and theologian Thomas Erastus (1524-1583), who, however, did not hold such views. Erastus wrote a widely read tract in which he argued that the Church does not have the power to excommunicate, and that all crimes should be punished by the civil authorities. The term "Erastianism" first came into use in religious debates in England in 1643, where it was used as a term of abuse for those who favored state control over the Church.

44. Nikolai Ivanovich Kostomarov (1817-1885) was a poet, literary critic, historian and Ukrainian nationalist. He wrote valuable studies of Bogdan Khmelnitskii and Stenka Razin, as well as his major work, Russkaia istoriia v zhizneopisaniiakh ee glavneishikh deiatelei (3 volumes, Petrograd, 1915).

45. The "blue flower" in Russian literature is a symbol of purity and constancy, often in a naive sense.

46. The Invisible City of Kitezh, or the "shining city of Kitezh," is a city said to have descended to the bottom of a lake east of the Volga when the Mongols fist invaded Russia. It served as a symbol of pure Orthodoxy retreating from a corrupt world, and true believers were supposed to be able to hear the ringing of its church bells from the shores of the lake.

47. Vasilii Vasil'evich Rozanov (1856-1919) was a Russian writer known for his unorthodox religious views and Slavophile tendencies. He will be discussed in the second volume of Ways of Russian Theology.

48. The Typikon [Book of Norms] is a book containing regulations for the times and performance of the Orthodox worship services and general regulations for the entire life of the monastic community from which it came.

49. Cf. Arsenii Sukhanov's remarks in his official "travel report" [Stateinoi spisok] concerning his quarrel with the Greeks. [Author's note.]

50. Fedor the Deacon, not later than 1669. [Author's note]. Fedor Ivanov was a deacon in the Annunciatipn Cathedral in Moscow. He was arrested in 1665 and defrocked and exiled at the Council of 1666. Although he repented once, in 1668 he was again arrested and sent to join Awakum in exile in Pustozersk. There he wrote a treatise on the Old Belief, "Reply of the Orthodox defenders of religion concerning the Creed and other dogmas." In 1682 he was burned at the stake along with Avvakum.

51. An anonymous epistle sent to the Old Believer community in Tiumen' in Siberia. [Author's note].

52. The priestless sects developed mostly in the sparsely populated regions of North Russia, where a parish often covered thousands of square miles and most people saw a priest perhaps once a year at best. These people conducted reader services in village chapels and thus were accustomed to living without priests. In the central regions of Russia, on the other hand, regular Church life was more firmly established and here the priestist groups emerged, divided among themselves over how to accept the "fugitive priests" coming over from the official Church. The priestists evolved into two main groups: those who returned to the Russian Orthodox Church as edinovertsy (see chapter IV, note 97), and the descendants of the Bela Krynitsa community in Austria-Hungary, who obtained a retired Greek bishop in 1846 and instituted their own hierarchy.

53. Pelagias was a lay teacher in Rome at the end of the 4th centry. What he actually taught is not clear since his writings have not survived, but according to Augustine, who wrote several tracts against his teachings, he stressed the freedom of the will and the goodness of human nature to the point where man is saved by his own moral efforts, apart from the grace of God. This doctrine severely clashed with the Augustinian and Roman Catholic theology of baptism, original sin and divine grace.

54. The quote is from Ivan Filippov (1655-1744), an intelligent and erudite Old Believer who held several administrative posts in the Vyg community and was its leader from 1740 until his death. He is best known for his History of the Vyg Community, [Istoril Vygovskoi pustyni], a reasoned and scientific work which is a chief source for the study of the early history of the schism. See E.V. Barsov, "Ivan Filippov, Vygovskii Istorik i nastoiatel'," in Pamiatnaia Knizhka Olonetskogo Gubernii na 1867 god, 2, 54-100.

55. Andrei Denisov was born in a village of the Povonets region in 1674. He seems to have been influenced quite early by the wandering Old Believer preachers who were common in the outlying regions of Russia, for in 1691, still a teenager, he built his own hermitage in the Vyg river valley. When others followed him into the wilderness he organized a community (the Vygovskaia pustyn') which his father and brother Semen also joined. Until his death in 1730 Andrei Denisov courageously led this community through many trials, famine and hardships, and proved himself an able theologian in debates with the official Church authorities and an able diplomat in his dealings with the government. On the Denisov's and the Vyg community in general, see R. Crummey The Old Believers and the World of Antichrist, the Vyg community and the Russian state, 1694-1855 (University of Wisconsin Press, 1970).

56. Cf. his. "Lament" entitled On the Bride of Christ [O neveste Kristovoi], that is, the Church in exile and humiliation. [Author's note].

57. Ramon Lull (1232-1316) was a mystic, philosopher and missionary from the island of Majorca. He spent most of his life battling the Islamic faith on his native island and also compiled an esoteric and unstructured philosophy whereby he attempted to unify all forms of knowledge into one language, faith and belief. He was also an early and ardent defender of the doctrine of the immaculate conception. His principle works are Ars magna (1274), Arbor scientiae (1296) and Ars generalis ultima (1308).

58. This was the great literary enterprise of Metropolitan Makarii (c. 1482- 1564). In it he attempted to gather all material available for reading in Russia in one symposium, divided into readings for every day of the year. The daily readings consisted of the lives of the saints commemorated on that day and excerpts from their works, if any. At the end of every month other readings on religious and moral topics were added. The volumes for five months were published in St. Petersburg by the Russian Archeographic Commission (1868-1917) and the rest remain in manuscript.

59. On St. Dimitrii of Rostov, see chapter II.

60. Dometian was an old friend of Avvakum and an early opponent of the reforms. He was arrested and brought to Moscow in 1665, then exiled to Pustozersk in Siberia the following year. In 1670 he returned to Tiumen' and founded a hermitage where he conducted services for his fellow Old Believers. An expedition was sent by the government to disband this hermitage in early 1679, but Dometian and his followers burned themselves rather than be captured by the agents of the antichrist.

61. Evfrosin was a disciple of the venerable Old Believer abbot Dosifei. His Otrazitel'noe pisanie o novoizobretonnom puti samoubiistvennykh smerti [Refutation of the Newly Invented System of Suicides] is an important source for the study of the Schism in the 1680's.

62. Vavila was one of the more notorious of the Kapitons in the North Volga region near Kazan'. He was captured and put to the flames by the authorities in 1666.

63. The Vinograd Rossiiskii, produced by Semen Denisov, was a martyrology of early Old Believer leaders and a devotional account of the Solovetskii Monastery's revolt against the new Nikonian service books. The Solovetskii uprising was put down with extreme force in 1674.

64. The Donatist schism occurred in the early fourth century in North Africa and involved two main problems: whether those Christians who succumbed to persecution could repent and re-enter the Church, and whether the validity of a sacrament was dependent on the worthiness of the minister. In the year 312 a certain archdeacon Caecilian was consecrated to the see of Carthage. A local groups of rigorists refused to recognize him on the grounds that one of the bishops who consecrated him had apostasized during the Diocletian persecution, and elected their own hierarch. This bishop was then succeeded by Donatus, a man of great leadership abilities. Thus two parallel hierarchies came into existence in North Africa. The Donatist groups became extremely severe and exclusive in outlook, claiming not only that former apostates could never again be Christians but also that anyone in communion with them, i.e., the entire Catholic Church, was outside of the body of Christ. This schism sapped all the strength out of the once great church of Roman Africa, and with the invasion of the Vandals (429) it was virtually destroyed.

65. "Agerest enim mundus, non Africa — messis finis saeculi, non tempus Donati," Adv. litt. Petiliani, III, 2, par. 3. [Author's note] .

66. Sergei Fedorovich Platonov (1860-1933) was an eminent Russian historian and founder of the "Petersburg" school of Russian historiography. His main work is his Lectures on Russian History (first published in St. Petersburg in 1899) and he also wrote authoritative studies on Boris Godunov and the Time of Troubles.

67. For example, see the treatise addressed to Simon Ushakov by the painter Iosif Vladimirov. [Author's note]. Iosif Vladimirov, "Poslanie nekoego izugrafa Iosifa k tsarevu izugrafu i mudreishemu zhivopistsu Simonu Fedorovichu," in V.N. Lazarev, ed., Drevnerusskoe iskusstvo XVII veka, (Moscow, 1964), 24-61.

68. Johann Piscator (N.J. Visscher, d. 1625) was a Dutch Protestant Biblical commentator who was quite popular in his day. His illustrated German translation of the Bible (which is remarkable because it is not based on Luther's) was published in Holland in 1650.

69. See note 17 in this chapter.

70. "New Jerusalem" was the name given by Nikon to the Voskresenski (Resurrection) monastery, where he built a church according to Arsenii Sukhanov's description of the cathedral in Jerusalem. Semen Streshnev (see note 88) accused Nikon of disgracing the name of the Holy City by renaming this monastery. Cf. N. Gibbenet, Istoricheskoe issledovanie dela Patriarkha Nikona (St.Petersburg, 1881-1884), H, 518-550.

71. Marcin Mielczewski (d. 1651) was a member of the Rorantist chapel in Cracow and later became a member of the court chapel. In 1653 he was appointed composer to King Wladystaw IV. Mielczewski is often considered the most important Polish composer of the 17th century. The great bulk of his surviving works consists of a capella masses and psalm-motets.

72. Apparently in Russia he directed the choir belonging to G.D. Stroganov. See his Crammatika peniia musikiiskago. The Polish original was adapted and reworked for the Russian edition by the deacon I.T. Korenev. [Author's note]. The Polish edition of Diletskii's book, Grammatyka muzyczna, was published in Vilna in 1675. The first Russian edition appeared two years later (Smolensk, 1677); in Moscow a revised version was brought out. See Iurii Keldysh, Russkaia muzyka XVII veka, (Moscow, 1965), 55-64.

73. Cf. the works of the government secretary V.P. Titov. His kanty and psalmy were most often set to the words of Simeon of Polotsk and others. [Author's note]. During the 17th century, a special religious chant known as the kant was performed by Polish and Ukrainian clergy and monks. The psalm was a special form of chant related to the kant. For a discussion of Vasilii Polikarpovich Titov see Gerald R. Seeman, The History of Russian Music, (New York, 1967), I, 51-52.

74. Andreas Vesalius (1514-1564) was a physician whose detailed anatomical descriptions in such works as De humani corporis fabrica libri septem (1543) greatly advanced the science of biology.

75. Cf. his dispute with Simeon of Polotsk. [Author's note].

76. Fedor Polikarpov was a student of the Likhud brothers at the Slavonic-Greek- Latin school in Moscow and later a teacher there. He also worked at the Moscow Printing Office, and was named its director in 1709. Considered a specialist in theology and Church history, many contemporary writers came to him for advice and comments, including St. Dimitrii of Rostov. Polikarpov published his own Slavonic Grammar and a history of Rossia in the 16th and 17th centuries, both commissioned by Peter the Great.

77. See chapter II, note 195.

78. Johannes Faber of Leutkirch (1478-1541). The full title of Faber's work is Opus adversus nova quaedam dogmata Gutheri (Malleus in haeresin Gutheranam].

79. Juan de Cartagena (d. 1617) was a famous preacher and head of the Franciscan order in Spain. Disputationes in universa christianae religionis arcana was published in Rome in 1609.

80. Jean Gerson (1361-1429), chancellor of the University of Paris and a renowned writer on theology and spirituality, was the author of De unitate ecclesiae (1391-1415). Baronius (1538-1607) was a cardinal and Church historian, known for his 12 volume Annales ecclesiastici (Rome, 1598-1607). Peter Besse (1568-1639) was known for Biblical commentaries. Salmeron (1515-1585) was one of the original companions of St. Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Jesuit order. His 16 volume commentary on the New Testament appeared in Madrid in 1597. Juan Perez de Pineda (1558-1637) was an editor of the Spanish Inquisition's Index librorum prohibitorum and was also known for Biblical commentaries and translations of the New Testament (1556) and the Psalms (1557).

81. Gerald Mercator (1512-1594) was the greatest cartographer of the sixteenth century. He devised a system of curved lines for latitude and longitude on maps, known as the "Mercator projection," and also was the first to use the term "atlas" for a book of maps. In addition he compiled a concordance of the Gospels and authored a commentary on St. Paul's epistle to the Romans. Henry More (1614-1687) was a British poet and religious philosopher. His chief theological works are The Immortality of the Soul (1659) and Enchiridion Metaphysicum (1671).

82. Vladimir Ivanovich Osten (1854-1911) was a professor of literature at the University of St. Petersburg. His article on Simeon Polotskii appears in Khristianskoe chtenie, 1907, no. III.

83. See chapter II, note 197.

84. Rafail Korsak, a former student at the College of St. Athanasius, succeeded Veliamin Rutskii (see chapter II, note 61) as Uniate metropolitan of Kiev and head of the Basilian order in 1637. He died in Rome in 1641.

85. See chapter II, note 144.

86. See chapter II, note 174.

87. Before the Great Council of 1666-1667 Ligarides had produced forged documents which named him the patriarch of Constantinople's legate for the council. Tsar Aleksei sent a special envoy to Dionysios to find out the truth of the matter, but because Ligarides' fall would be too harmful to Nikon's opponents and personally embarrassing to the tsar Dionysios' reply was kept secret and Ligarides continued to function.

88. Semen Lukianovich Streshnev was the brother of Tsar Aleksei's deceased mother. He had incurred the great wrath of Nikon by naming his dog after hirri and teaching it to mimic the way the patriarch gave the blessing. Nikon excommunicated him (according to the law code of 1649 such an offense against the patriarch's honor was punishable as the patriarch saw fit). Streshnev, with Ligarides' help, then composed thirty questions concerning the duties of a patriarch and Nikon's conduct in the light of these duties. These questions were published along with replies written by Ligarides sharply critical of Nikon. See N. Gibbenet, Istoricheskoi issledovanie dela Patriarkha Nikona, (St. Petersburg, 1881-1884), II, 518-550, for the text of the Questions.

89. Ivan Timofeev (d. c. 1630) was a government secretary [d' iak] under Boris Godunov. Sent to work in Novgorod in 1606, he remained there throughout the Swedish occupation of that city during the Time of Troubles. The ravages and devastation that he witnessed there inspired him to write his Annals [Vremennik] , a rhetorical and ornate history of Russia during his turbulent era.

90. Cf. Lavrentii Zizani's Ketekhizis, and Kirill Trankvillion-Stravrovetskii's Uchitel noe Evangelie, the service manuals published in Vilna in 1617, the Lithos, the Trebnik and the short catechism of Peter Mogila, and especially the Vyklad of Fedor Safonovich. [Author's note].

91. Sil'vestr Medvedev (1641-1691) was a minor government offcial from Kursk who came to Moscow and studied in Sixneon's school for government servitors. There he became a most zealous and devoted follower of Simeon's, and later took monastic vows and was put to work at the Moscow Printing Office. After Simeon's death in 1680 Medvedev inherited his court positions as well as the leadership of the Latin Party, and wrote numerous polemical tracts. He also was made head of the Zaikonospasskii Monastery in Moscow and opened a Latin school there, which he and his followers hoped to convert into an academy. (Their hopes were dashed when the Likhuds were brought to Moscow to found a Greek oriented academy). Later Medvedev became involved in court intrigues and was executed for treason in 1691.

92. In 1682 Patriarch Ioakim wrote to Patriarch Dositheus of Jerusalem asking him to send to Russia some educated Orthodox scholars to open an academy and generally to offset the influence of the Latin party in Moscow. Dositheus responded by dispatching the brothers Joannicus (d. 1717) and Sophronius (d. 1730) Likhud. They arrived in Moscow in 1685 and soon after organized a Slavono-Greek-Latin academy at the Zaikonospasskii Monastery. Although their years in Moscow were turbulent, their influence on Russian higher education was enormous, for besides opening the first great Russian academy they also had to compile all the textbooks for their courses and the first generation of properly called "scholars" in Russia were all educated by the Likhuds. They also worked in the Moscow Printing Office and organized another school in Novgorod. After the death of Joannicus Sophronius served as head of the Solotchinskii Monastery. The basic work on the Likhuds remains M. Smertsovskii, Brat'ia Likhudy: Opty izsledovaniia iz istorii tserkovnago prosveshcheniia tserkovnoi zhizni kontsa XVII i nachala XVIII vikov (St. Petersburg, 1899).

93. Ioakim (1620-1690), former archimandrite of the Chudov Monastery and metropolitan of Novgorod, was patriarch from 1674 until his death. Wholly conservative in outlook, he attempted to restore the powers of the Church, vhich had been eroding since Nikon's fall, and also strove against the Latin-Polish cultural influences flooding into Russia during Tsarevna Sofia's regency (see note 96).

94. The Likhud edition of the Zhitie prep. Varlaamiia Khutynskago contains a characteristic passage on the light of Tabor interpreted in a Palamite sense as the "uncreated emission of Divinity." [Author's note].

95. Cf. the monk Innokentii Monastyrskii's book. [Author's note] .

96. After the death of Fedor III in 1682 Peter the Great, a lad of ten, was immediately proclaimed tsar. However, within months a streltsy coup resulted in Peter's half-brother Ivan being named co-tsar and his sister Sofia being named regent for both. Thereafter Peter lived outside Moscow occupying himself with various puerile amusements. Meanwhile disaffection with Sofia was growing in many quarters, until in 1689 a gathering of the streltsy at Sofia's palace (supposedly for the purpose of murdering Peter and thus removing Sofia'schief potential rival for power) served as a pretext for a general revolt after which Sofia was shut up in a convent and the government came fully into Peter's hands. The "conspirators," i.e., Sofia's entire court, were cruelly punished and Medvedev, being a high personage in Sofia's court, was immediately arrested and executed two years later.

97. See above, chapter II, note 170.

98. Pavel Menesius (d. 1689) came to Russia in 1660 and entered the service of Tsar Aleksei's court. In 1672 he was sent to Germany, Venice and Rome to seek out the possibility of a European alliance against the Turks. On his return in 1674 he was promoted to the rank of major general and was made a tutor for the Tsarevich Peter. In 1682 Sofia sent him off to war against the Crimean Tatars, and he returned to Moscow, where he died, only after her fall (1689).

99. Patrick Gordon (1635-1699) was a Scotch Jacobite who was educated at a Jesuit college in Poland, but then became a mercenary soldier for the Swedes, Poles and the German emperor. He entered the Russian army in 1661, was sent on diplomatic missions in 1665 and 1685, and was promoted to the rank of general during the Crimean campaign of 1687. Since Gordon was an expert on ballistics and fortification, the young Tsar Peter was naturally attracted to him, and Gordon became Peter the Great's early mentor on military sciences. Patrick Gordon wrote a diary during his stay in Russia, parts of which are published in Passages from the Diary of Ceneral Patrick Gordon of Auchleuchries (Aberdeen, 1859).

100. For Patriarch Ioakim see above, note 93. Adrian, the former metropolitan of Kazan', was elected patriarch in 1690 and was the last patriarch of Russia before 1917. Aged and ineffectual, he was able to do little more than protest in vain the rise of foreign influences and the breakdown of old traditions. He died in 1700.

101. Petr Artem'ev was the son of a priest from Suzdal' and a student at the Slavonic-Greek-Latin Academy. On his return from Italy he was ordained an Orthodox deacon and caused local scandals by teaching Roman Catholic doctrines on transubstantiation, purgatory and the filioque from the pulpit. He was finally denounced to the patriarch by his own father, put on trial and exiled to Solovki.

102. That is, the Slavono-Greek-Latin Academy founded by the Likhuds at the Zaikonospasskii Monastery in 1685. The Likhuds left Moscow in 1694.

103. To enhance the prestige of the new dynasty Tsar Mikhail wished to contract a marriage alliance with a foreign royal house. He himself had looked to Denmark for a royal spouse in 1623, and although nothing came of it a delegation had been sent to Denmark which included the priest Ivan Nasedka, who wrote a polemical tract entitled Exposition Against the Lutherans. In 1642 serious negotiations began to marry the tsar's daughter Irina to King Christian's son Woldemar, who would then live in Russia. At first Woldemar was to convert to Orthodoxy, but when he refused Mikahil dropped the requirement and agreed to allow Woldemar to keep his faith and furthermore to build a Lutheran chapel in Moscow for him. However, when Woldemar arrived in Moscow in 1644 Patriarch Iosif vetoed the marriage. A delicate situation ensued. As there was a real possibility of Woldemar ascending the throne in the future, Patriarch Iosif, with wide support among the conservative Muscovite society, had to insist on his conversion. On the other hand, if the marriage did not take place, the tsar would suffer an international embarrassment and loss of prestige. Therefore it was decided to conduct religious debates with the purpose of convincing Woldemar to embrace Orthodoxy. Ivan Nasedka was the chief spokesman for the Orthodox side, and portions of his earlier tract were included in the Kirillova kniga (see note 24) which was published in connection with the debates. The intense interest with which Muscovite society followed these discussions is evidenced by the tremendous — for that time — press run of the Kirillova kniga. However despite the tsar's efforts Woldemar remained an adamant Lutheran and after Mikhail died in 1645 he returned to Denmark still a bachelor.

104. The "German suburb" was part of the zealot program to check the influx of western ideas through the mingling of foreigners (all of whom were called "Germans" in 17th century Russia) with Russians in Moscow. In 1652 Tsar Aleksei decreed that all foreigners were to live in a suburb a half mile east of Moscow on the Iauza River.

105. Jacob Boehme (or Bohme, 1575-1624) was a German Lutheran shoemaker and mystic. His major works are The Great Mystery and On the Election of Grace, in which he develops a complex cosmology, at times dualistic and pantheistic, as well as his teaching on the true Christian life. Among his disciples were Newton, William Blake, Claude de Saint-Martin, Hegel, Schelling and Schopenhauer, and his influence was to be felt in Russia in the late 18th and early 19th centuries.

106. Jan Amos Comenius (Komensky, 1592-1670) was a widely influential and respected figure in his time. The leader of a Czech protestant community uprooted by the Thirty Years War, he wrote over 200 works on philosophical and religious themes attempting to define their position in the ever-changing realities of their existence and urging peace and cooperation among all men through universal education. His last major work Gux e tenebris [Light and Darkness] is a severely apocalyptical treatise based on a number of writings of his co-religionists who fell in recent persecutions. Comenius' most important and lasting work, however, was in the field of education, where he proposed new methods of teaching (cf. his Didactica magna) and language learning (Janua linguarum reservata). See M. Spinka, John Amos Comenius: That Incomparable Moravian (New York, 1967).

107. The only surviving son of Tsar Aleksei by his first wife, Fedor III ascended the throne in 1676 at the age of 15 and died six years later. He himself had been educated by Simeon of Polotsk, and the advisors who ran the government in the name of the young and sickly tsar were also western oriented. During his reign western ideas and customs and Latin books and doctrines spread easily among the Muscovite aristocracy.

108. See above, note 4.

109. Stefan Iavorskii (1658-1722) was a theology professor at the Kiev Academy who came to Moscow in 1700 and became the nominal, though powerless, head of the Russian Church during most of the reign of Peter the Great. See below, chapter IV, pp. 120-121 and note 10.

110. Iov was metropolitan of Novgorod from 1697 until his death in 1716, and distinguished himself as a remarkable hierarch and a leader in education and philanthropy. On his own initiative and at his own expense he opened a series of schools with elementaty curricula in Novgorod and in other cities of his diocese as well. He also founded hospitals, almshouses, old age homes and orphanages. His only major written work is On the Birth of the Antichrist (1707), written as a result of disputes with the Old Believers who were quite numerous in his eparchy. There is a biography of him by I. Chistovich in the journal Strannik, 1861.

111. Gavriil Dometskoi, of the Iur'ev monastery, reopened the dispute over the holy gifts in 1704 wifh a lengthy rebuttal of Evfimi's earlier work against the Latin party in Moscow. Damaskin, a monk of the Chudov monastery replied to Dometskoi's One Hundred and Five Questions with One Hundred and Five Answers, written in the form of a lettei to Metropolitan Iov. Damaskin later travelled to Mt. Athos and wrote a comparison of the Holy Mountain with the Solovetskii Monastery.

112. Feofan Prokopovich was the chief architect of Peter the Great's Church reforms. He is discussed in the following chapter, pp. 121-127.

Notes to Chapter IV.

1. Slavophilism was an ideological movement that arose in the 1840's in Russia. At that time there were intense controversies raging concerning the meaning of Russia's history, sparked by Chaadaev's "First Philosophical Letter" published in the journal Teleskop in 1836. In many ways the focal point of these debates was precisely Peter's reforms. The Slavophiles, believing in the uniqueness of the Russian spirit, which they defined in terms of Slavic nationality and Orthodox Christianity, rejected Peter's attempt to bring Russia on the path of Western European history and saw the present evils in Russia as the result of a Westernized aristocracy and government spiritually and culturally divorced from the huge masses of the Russian people.

2. Feofan Prokopovich was born in Kiev and studied at the Kiev Academy, Polish schools, and the College of St. Athanasius in Rome where, instead of succumbing to Catholic theology he developed a lasting hatred of Catholicism and fell under a Protestant orientation. While prefect of the Kiev Academy he impressed Peter on several occasions with sermons glorifying the tsar for his victory at Poltava. Thereupon he was brought to St. Petersburg as first bishop of Pskov and then archbishop of Novgorod. See below, especially section III.

3. This is an allusion to Feofan Prokopovich's O pravde voli monarshei v opredelenie svoikh po sebe naslednikov [On the Justice of the Monarch's Will in his own Determination of his Heirs] , in which he states that the tsar's will is superior to any power and cannot be judged.

4. Rozysk istoricheskii, koikh radi vin, i v kakovom razume byli i naritsalisia imperatory rimtsii, kak iazychestii, tak i khristianstii pontifeksami ili arkhiereiami mnogobuzhnago zakona; a v zakone khristianstem khristianstii gosudari mogut li nareshchisia episkopi arkhierei, i v kakom razume.

5. Samuel von Pufendorf (1632-1694) was a German writer and jurist who, however, spent his most productive years in Sweden. His De jure naturae et Gentium libri octo (1672), and especially the excerpt from it published in 1673, De officio hominis et civis juxta legem naturalem, was a widely read treatise on natural law. In his De habitu religionis Christianae ad vitam civilem he proclaimed the civil superiority of the state over the church, and this work served as a basis for the collegial system of church government in Sweden. Pufendorf is singled out in the Spiritual Regulation as a teacher worthy of study.

6. Hugo Grotius (1583-1645) was a Dutch jurist, statesman and humanist. His most famous work, De iure belli ac pacis libri tres (1625) brought him renown as the "father of international law." In addition he wrote on theology, history, Biblical commentaries, and also was the author of numerous poems in Latin.

7. Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679) was a controversial British empiricist and political philosopher. In works such as Leviathan, or the Matter, Form and Power of a Commonwealth, Ecclesiastical and Civil (1651), De cive (1642) and De corpore politico (1655) he defended absolute monarchy as the only workable political form, berated papists and Presbyterians for attempting to limit the powers of sovereigns, and held that the church and the state are one body over which the sovereign alone is head.

8. This phrase came into use in the German empire after the rise of Lutheranism, when quarrels over the official religion of local principalities broke out because of situations where the faith of a prince was different than that of his subjects. The Peace of Augsburg (1655) established the principle that "he who rules, his is the religion," a principle that served to set the temporal ruler at the head of national Protestant churches.

9. This remark is from the book entitled Ecclesia romana cum ruthenica irreconciliabilis (Jena, 1719), written at Feofan's invitation and on the basis of information he provided. (Author's note]. "He did this in order to proclaim himself the head and supreme ruler of the church in Russia." Johann Franz Buddeus (1667-1729) was a professor at Jena and the most versatile and respected Lutheran theologian of his age. He published works on history, philosophy, the Old Testament, and two theology courses: Institutiones theologiae moralis (1711) and Institutiones theologiae dogmaticae (1723).

10. Stefan Iavorskii was born in 1658 in a family of Ukrainian lesser nobility. He studied at the Kiev Academy and was also sent to various colleges in Poland to complete his education. While in Poland, he became a Uniate, as was the normal practice for Russians studying in the West, and moreover became thoroughly imbued with Latin theology. On his return to Kiev in 1689 he reverted to Orthodoxy, became a monk, and rose high in the faculty of the Kiev Academy. Sent to Moscow in 1700 to be consecrated bishop of Pereiaslavl, he attracted the attention of Peter with one of his sermons and the tsar had him named instead the metropolitan of Riazan' and Murom. After the death of Adrian he was appointed temporary administrator of the patriarchate, a position which he held until the dissolution of the patriarchate in 1721, and also superintendent of the Moscow Academy. Throughout his long tenure as nominal head of the Russian, Church Iavorskii opposed the reforms of Peter and Feofan, whose episcopal consecration he had protested in 1718, but was powerless to do anything about it in the face of the iron will of the tsar. Still he was named president of the Ecclesiastical College (later renamed the Most Holy Synod) at its inception, but took no active role in it and died the following year, 1722. Stefan Iavorskii's Latin oriented polemic against Protestantism, Kamen' very, is discussed below.

11. The term "caesaropapism," which refers to a ruler possessing supreme authority over the church as well as the state, was originally applied by certain historians to Byzantium where the emperor often wielded enormous control over the Greek Church. To Fr. Florovsky, however, it is better suited to the national churches formed in the Reformation where the temporal ruler was actually recognized as the official head of the church.

12. Filaret Gumilevskii, archbishop of Chernigov from 1859 to 1866, was the author of Obzor russkoi dukhovnoi literatury (St. Petersburg, 1884) and Istoriia russkoi tserkvi (Chernigov, 1847). See chapter V and note 68.

13. Giovanni Pontanus (1422-1503), Italian politician and humanist, was the head of the Neapolitan Academy. His dialogues on morality, religion and literature, as well as his lyrical poetry, were written in what was considered the most fluent Latin style of his day.

14. Joseph Justus Scaliger (1540-1609) was a French Calvinist humanist and linguist. A professor first at Geneva and then at the University of Leiden, he was known for his editions of several ancient writers, his Poemata omnia (1615), and his two chief works, De emendatione temporum (1583) and Thesaurus temporum (1606) which founded the science of chronology.

15. The actual term here is skomorokhi, wandering minstrels of old Russia who went from village to village performing acts and doing tricks. They were opposed by the Church hierarchy.

16. His Syntagma theologiae christianae was published in Hanover in 1609. [Author's note]. Amandus Polanus von Polansdorf (1561-1610) was the leader of the conservative Calvinists in Basel. He also composed commentaries on the books of the Old Testament and produced a German translation of the New Testament.

17. Johann Gerhard (1582-1637) was a conservative Lutheran professor of theology at Jena whose Loci communes theologici was the most authoritative Lutheran theological system of its time. He also wrote Confessio catholica (in four parts, 1634-1637), a defense of Lutheranism with arguments drawn from Catholic authors, as well as various exegetical and devotional writings.

18. Adam Zernikav (or Chernigovskii) was a Lutheran scholar who after a long study of early church history and the Eastern Orthodox Church decided to move to Russia and convert to Orthodoxy. In Chernigov in 1682 he wrote De processione Spiritus Sancta a suo Patre which was kept in the library of the Kiev Academy but not published until 1774 in Konigsberg.

19. Robert Bellarmine (1542-1621) was a cardinal in the Roman Catholic Church. His Disputationes de controversiis christianiae fidei adversus hujus temporis haereticos, first published in Rome from 1581 to 1593, synopticized both Roman Catholic and Protestant theology, and was previously used by Peter Mogila. Bellarmine also worked on the commission that produced the Sixtus-Clementine Vulgate.

20. The Russian Academy of Sciences was founded in St. Petersburg shortly after Peter's death in 1725. It had been a pet project of his since his journey to Europe in 1717 when he discussed the project with the philosopher Leibnitz and was made an honorary member of the French Academy of Sciences. The Russian Academy was established by Germans, and the total membership for the entire 18th century was two-thirds foreigners.

21. The great Spanish Jesuit Francis Suarez (1548-1617) wrote on philosophy and theology in a Thomistic vein, as well as on law and politics. Suarez was a most prolific author (the 1856 Paris edition of his collected works covers 28 volumes) and we can only mention here his principal philosophical treatise, Disputationes metaphysicae, which went through 18 editions in the 17th century and was widely used in Protestant as well as Roman Catholic universities.

22. Raspria Pavla i Petra o ige neadobosominom, written in 1712, but published only in 1774 as part of Feofan's collected works. [Author's note].

23. The traditional Orthodox doctrine of salvation stands apart from the Reformation argument on faith and works, presupposed here by Feofan. The Orthodox fathers saw salvation accomplished in a collaboration of divine grace and the free will of man, the doctrine of synergeia.

24. Anton V. Kartashev (1875-1960) was a distinguished Russian and emigré Church historian and one of the founders of the St. Sergius Academy in Paris. His main work is the two volume Ocherki po istorii russkoi tserkvi (Paris, 1959).

25. Feofilakt Lopatinskii, a graduate of the Kiev Academy, was brought to Moscow in 1704 to teach philosophy at the Moscow Academy. Later he became professor of theology and rector (from 1706 to 1722). In spite of his differences with Feofan (like Iavorskii, he protested Feofan's consecration in 1718) Lopatinskii remained in the favor of the tsar and in 1722 was named archimandrite of the Chudov Monastery and a member of the Synod, and the following year bishop of Tver'. After Peter's death he actually became the dominant figure in the Synod, until he was arrested and imprisoned under Empress Anna. Reprieved on Elizabeth's accession (1741), Feofilakt died a year later. On his quarrel with Feofan see I. Chistovich, Feofan Prokopovich i Feofilakt Lopatinskii (St. Petersburg, 1861).

26. Markell Rodyshevskii had taught at the Kiev Academy during Feofan's tenure there, and it was Feofan's influence that gave him his position as archimandrite of the Iur'ev Monastery. However, Markell was a staunch opponent of Peter's reforms and after the tsar's death he opened a vigorous attack on the author of most of these reforms, his former friend Feofan. Markell, in fact, even went so far as to write a biography of Feofan under the title The Life of the Archbishop of Novgorod, the Heretic Feofan Prokopovich. Spending most of the years between 1725 and 1740 in confinement or exile for his views, he was restored to his position at the Iur'ev Monastery only after Elizabeth came to power, and shortly before his death in 1742 he was even made a bishop.

27. Feofilakt's remarks are contained in his book On the Lord's Blessed Yoke [Ob ige Gospodnem blagom] . [Author's note]

28. Vladimir, Slavenorossiiskikh stran kniaz' i povelitel', ot neveriia tomy v svet evangel'skii privedennyi Dukhom Sviatym. A recent scholarly edition of Vladimir is provided in I. P. Eremin, ed., Feofan Prokopovich: Sochineniia (Moscow-Leningrad, 1961), pp. 149-206.

29. The younger daughter of Peter the Great, Elizabeth (1709-1762) had been passed over for the Russian throne in 1730 because of her illegitimate birth (she was born before Peter married her mother, Catherine I). However, she was highly popular in many circles, most importantly the military, and aftei Anna Ivanovna's death (see note 31) a palace coup against Anna's chosen successor, the infant Ivan VI, put Elizabeth finally on the throne in 1741. Her reign witnessed a flowering of Western cultural forms in Russia (opera, ballet, theater, etc.), the establishment of the first Russian university and a general replacement of German (and Protestant) influences at court with French. Relatively pious in her observance of Church ceremonies, she put an end to the "persecution" of Anna's reign.

30. Johann Peter Kol' (d. 1778) held the chair of oratory and Church history at the Academy of Sciences, where he was invited in 1725 on the basis of the book cited here. He left Russia for a time in 1727, according to a colleague at the Academy because he was so hopelessly in love with Grand Princess Elizabeth Petrovna he could not work, but before that he supervised the Academy's gymnasium and wrote several reports for the Academy: De manuscriptis bibliothecae mosquensis, De origine linguae russicae, and De lexico slavonico conciendo.

31. Anna was the daughter of Peter's half brother Ivan, co-tsar with him until his death in 1696. In 1710 Peter married her off to the Duke of Courland (a small Polish vassal state on the Baltic Sea), and even though her husband died on the return trip Peter decided it would be politically expedient to have his niece the sovereign of this strategic area. Therefore Anna lived in Courland, destitute, lonely and bored, until a crisis in the succession to the Russian throne in 1730 brought high dignitaries of Russia to Courland to offer her the throne, on the condition that she accept certain limitations of her powers. She agreed, was crowned empress, renounced all limitations to her powers and proceeded to rule most autocratically. Because of her background and the climate in which she came to rule Anna was continually suspicious of intrigues against her and her government soon evolved into a "police state." The traditional view of her reign is as a "dark era" in Russian history when her German advisors overran the government. This view has been substantially altered by recent historians, but at any rate the Church in this period bore a heavy and often cruel yoke.

32. Emst Johann Biron (1690-1772) was a Courlander who served at Anna's court when she was duchess there and came to Moscow as her lover when she became empress. He is traditionally seen as the real ruler of Russia during her reign (hence the term Bironovshchina to describe this period), but modern historians differ as to the serious extent of his actual influence. In 1737 he was made Duke of Courland, and on Anna's death he was regent for the infant tsar Ivan VI for three weeks, after which he found himself under arrest by rivals and exiled. Catherine II restored him to his duchy in 1763, where he lived the rest of his days in peaceful obscurity.

33. Amvrosii Iushkevich (1690-i745) was a well-known, highly ornate preacher and from 1740 until his death the archbishop of Novgorod. Ironically, he rose to power during Anna's reign and was a political opponent of Elizabeth's, but when the latter became empress he was quick to repent of his former follies. As archbishop of Novgorod he revived Metropolitan Iov's school there and developed it into Novgorod's first seminary.

34. Dimitrii Evdokimovich Tveritinov was a doctor and man of science with many friends in the German suburb, where he became well acquainted with Luther's works. His scientific background and Protestant influences led him to the denial of relics, miracles and the veneration of icons, and to hold the Bible as the sole source of religious authority. He was forced to recant and eventually returned to the fold of Orthodoxy, but the process took several years and heightened rivalries and animosities at the highest levels of Peter's government. At the trial of a student of the Moscow Academy accused of Protestantism and free-thinking in 1713, Tveritinov was denouced as the source of these heresies. Fleeing to St. Petersburg he placed himself under the protection of the Senate (an executive organ of Peter's, not a legislative body), which found him Orthodox and ordered Iavorskii to agree. Iavorskii thereupon appealed directly to Peter, who, though doubtless in sympathy with Tveritinov's ideas, could not tolerate the breach of authority contained in them, and Tveritinov was finally condemned in 1716. This affair left Peter disgruntled with Iavorskii for forcing him to contradict his Senate, left the Senate bitter with Iavorskii for appealing over their heads, and left Iavorskii despairing of the possibility to function with any authority.

35. Iavorskii's Rock of Faith was written perhaps as early as 1713.

36. Buddeus' tract was published as Defense of the Lutheran Church against the Calumnies of Stefan Iavorskii (Epistola apologetica pro ecclesia Lutherana contra calumnias et obtrectationes Stephani Javorcii ad amium Mosque degentem script]. Robert Stupperich, in "Feofan Prokopovic und Johann Franz Buddeus," Zeitschrift fur osteuropaische Geschichte, IX (n.s., v), (1935), pp. 341-362 argues that it was not Feofan but a former student of Buddeus then in Moscow, Peter Muller, who sent Iavorskii's book to Jena. He also does not find Feofan to have been the real author of Buddeus' rejoinder.

37. Johann Lorenz von Mosheim (1694-1755) was a professor of theology at Helmstedt and later at the University of Gottingen, which he helped establish. His most important work was in the field of Church history, where he was one of the first to apply modern historiographical methods, and his Institutiones historiae ecclesiasticae (Helmstedt, 1755) was often reproduced and widely used as a textbook.

38. Although little is known of the life of Ivan Tikhonovich Pososhkov (c. 1652-1726), his writings mark him as an intellectual giant in 18th century Russia. Called by many the first Russian economist, his chief work On Poverty and Wealth [Kniga o skudosti i bogatstvie, 1724] is a fascinating economic treatise in which Pososhkov deals with prices, taxes, the coining of money, relationships of landlords to the peasantry, and the need for advanced agricultural techniques and government support for industry. He also outlines a plan for economic and social reform in Russia. This book probably led to his demise in the Peter and Paul fortress in St. Petersburg two years after it was written, but before that he was also known as an enlightened writer on ecclesiastical and social themes. Of particular interest here is The Clear Mirror [Zerkalo ochevidnoe] which Pososhkov wrote in 1708 mainly against Protestantism and the Old Believers. A modern study of this remarkable person is B.B. Kafengauz, I.T. Pososhkov: zhizn' i deiatel'nost' (Moscow, 1951).

39. The historian and philologist Gottlieb Siegfried Bayer (1694-1738) was educated at Konigsberg University and held the chair of antiquities and oriental languages at the Academy of Sciences in St. Petersburg. In Russia he accomplished valuable work in the fields of history and geography, compiled a Chinese dictionary, and wrote a history of Russia. As he never learned to read Russian his history was based solely on Byzantine and Scandinavian sources in Latin translation and helped to establish the "Normanist theory" in Russian historiography, i.e., that practically anything of political or cultural value in ancient Russia came from Varangian traders who established their rule over the early Slavic tribes.

40. Adam Burkhardt Sellius (d. 1746), a Dane, was a student of Buddeus at Jena. He came to Russia in 1722 and taught Latin at Feofan's school, and subsequently served as a teacher in Moscow, in St. Petersburg at the Academy of Sciences, and at the Aleksandr Nevskii Seminary. In 1744 he converted to Orthodoxy and became a monk with the name Nikodim. He was known to later generations in Russia for his bibliographical and historical works, most notably Schediasma litterarium de scriptoribus, qui historiam politico ecclesiasticam Rossiae illustrarunt (Revel, 1736; Russian translation Moscow, 1815), Istoricheskoe zertsalo rossiiskikh gosudarei (original Latin unpublished, Russian translation Moscow, 1773), and De rossorum hierarchia, which was never published but was put to use by later Russian historians.

41. Patriarch Dositheus expressed concern over Latin influences in Russia on a number of occasions. Alttiough he himself sent the Likhud brothers to Moscow to open the academy there, he denounced them when they introduced Latin into the curriculum. Later he protested Iavorskii's consecration to the see of Riazan and warned Peter not to bring Ukrainians to Russian sees. On this redoubtable hierarch himself see chapter II, note 200.

42. His Scientia sacra (1706-1710) exists in manuscript; cf. the Zapiski of I. Krokovskii [Author's note].

43. Petr Vasil'evich Znamenskii (1836-1917) was an eminent Russian Church historian. One of his chief works is Dukhovnaia shkola do reformy 1808 goda (Kazan', 1881).

44. Nikolai Sergeevich Trubetskoi (1890-1938) was a well-known Russian and emigré historian of Slavic literature and general linguistic scholar. His chief work is Grundzuge der Phonologie (Vienna, 1939).

45. Epifanii Tikhorskii an archimandrite from Chernigov was bishop of Belgorod from 1722 until his death in 1731. He founded his Russian language school in Belgorod, and it was moved to Kharkov in 1726.

46. The Aleksandr Nevskii Monastery was founded in 1710. Peter intended it to become a type of training center for higher clergy in Russia, and he once ordered that all archimandrites for all Russian monasteries reside first at this monastery, where the tsar could inspect them for himself. In 1721 a grammar school was founded there by Feodosii Ianovskii, then this school was transformed in 1725 into the Slavonic-Greco-Latin Seminary of St. Petersburg.

47. Aleksandr Ivanovich Herzen (1812-1870) was a Russian radical journalist, philosopher and literary critic. He spent his most productive years in London, where he published the famous journal Kolokol.

48. Platon Levshin (1737-1812) was one of the few truly great hierarchs of the 18th century. Born near Moscow, he studied at the Moscow Academy and after fmishing taught rhetoric there. In 1763 he was brought to St. Petersburg as preacher to the court of Catherine II and a tutor for Grand Duke Paul. He rose successively to the rank of archimandrite, member of the Synod, bishop of Tver' (1770), and in 1775 he became the metropolitan of Moscow. During his 37 years as metropolitan of Moscow Platon proved himself to be a more than capable administrator, re-organizing his diocese and the Academy and introducing numerous measures to raise both the moral and material level of his clergy. In the early part of his life he was known as one of the most successful preachers in Russia, and over 500 of his sermons are preserved. Later he distinguished himself as a writer and pedagogue. Among his voluminous writings are handbooks and instructions covering almost every aspect of church life, a short history of the Russian Church, and several catechetical and dogmatic works written in the Russian language, the most famous of which, Pravoslavnoe uchenie very, was published in Latin, French, German, English and Greek during his lifetime. A full account of hia life and works is A. Barsov, Ocherk zhizni mitropolita Platona (Moscow, 1891). He is also discussed below.

49. This was Rule 36 in the section on monasticism. It was not in the original version of the Regulation, but as early as 1701 Peter forbade monks to keep writing materials in their cells, and this prohibition was confirmed by an edict in January of 1723.

50. Nikita Petrovich Giliarov-Platonov (1824-1887) was a 19th century Slavophile publicist. See chapter V, note 247.

51. Decree of September 1, 1723. [Author's note].

52. Cf. the "notification" [Ob'iavlenie] of 1724. [Author's note].

53. See below for Paisii Velichkovskii's outright condemnation of this practice. [Author's note].

54. Arsenii Mogilianskii (1704-1770), a graduate of the Kiev Academy, taught at the Moscow Academy and was a popular preacher both there and at Elizabeth's court. A member of the Synod from 1744, he retired to the Novgorod-Severskii Monastery in 1752, but was called out of retirement to assume the office of metropolitan of Kiev.

55. Those who taught in such a manner included Feofilakt, Gedeon Vishenskii, and to some extent Kirill Florinskii in Moscow; Innokentii Popovskii, Khristofor Charnutskii, Iosif Vochanskii and Amvrosii Dubnevich in Kiev. Mentioning Arsenii Matseevich's name would not be inappropriate at this point. [Author's note].

56. "Peripatetic" refers to the philosophy of Aristotle, popularized in Western Europe by the scholastics. The term is derived from Aristotle's practice of walking around (peripatain) as he taught, and the colonnade in his lyceum, called the peripatos.

57. Christian Wolff (1679-1754) was a German philosopher and mathematician who taught at the University of Marburg and at Halle. In his philosophy he strove to systematize scholastic philosophy on the basis of his mathematical method. His moral and political philosophy had great intluence and by the middle of the 18th century dominated German universities.

58. Usually in the edition prepared by N. Bantysh-Kamenskii, Baumeistri Elementa philosophiae, published in Moscow in 1777 but printed in Kiev as early as 1752. [Author's note].

59. Johann Gerhard, Loci theologici; Johann Quenstedt, Theologia didacticopolemica sive systema theologicum (Wittenberg, 1685); Johann Buddeus, Institutiones theologiae dogmaticae (1723) and Isagoge historico-theologica ad theologiam universam (1727).

60. Sil'vestr Kuliabka (1701-1761) taught rhetoric, philosophy and theology at the Kiev Academy and also served as rector. His two popular lecture compilations were Cursus philosophicus (1737) and Theologicae scientiae summa (1743). Later he became metropolitan of St. Petersburg. Georgii Konisskii (1718-1795), the archbishop of Mogilev, although also the author of a theology and a philosophy course, was known chiefly for his struggles against the Uniates in Poland. Gavriil Petrov (1730-1801) was first bishop of Tver' and then metropolitan of St. Petersburg, where he was active with the academy. He also served on Catherine II's Legislative Commission as the representative of the Russian clergy, and on a commission to evaluate the ecclesiastical schools (see below).

61. Feofilakt Gorskii (d. 1778) was a professor and rector of Moscow Academy, and bishop of Pereiaslavl and Kolomna. Ortodoxae orientalis ecclesiae dogmata, seu doctrina christiana deccredendis et agendis was published for a second time for use in the seminaries in 1818. A shorter version, Dogmaty khristianskoi pravoslavnoi very, was published in Latin and Russian in 1773, translated into German that same year, and French in 1792. Iakinf Karpinskii, known to his fellow monastics as Cicero (1723-1798), had a varied career in five semmaries and ten monasteries. His Compendium was a standard textbook. Sil'vestr Lebedinskii (d. 1808), rector of the Kazan' Academy and archbishop of Astrakhan, was also the author of the popular Netlennaia pishcha (Moscow, 1799) and Pritochnik evangel'skii (1796), Biblical commentaries in verse. Irinei Fal'kovskii (d. 1823) taught mathematics as well as theology at the Kiev Academy and was bishop of Smolensk and Chigirin.

62. Cf. the desire expressed in the statute of Moscow University "that the Greek language be taught." [Author's note].

63. Russian foreign policy had long been directed towards the south, against Tatar tribes and the Ottoman Empire. With the Turkish war ending in the treaty of Kutchuk-Kainardji (1774) Russia had gained a firm footing on the Black Sea and demonstrated her military superiority in that region. Catherine II's "Greek Project" or "grand design" was to continue Russian expansion in that direction until the Turks were expelled from Europe and she could revive the Byzantine Empire with its capital at Constantinople. The initial step of this plan was taken with the annexation of the Crimea in 1783 and another Turkish war ending in 1792 with the Russians gaining the entire north coast of the Black Sea, but Constantinople, of course, was beyond reach. During this time Catherine actively promoted Russia's Byzantine heritage and even had her second grandson named Constantine.

64. See above, note 48.

65. This was when the number of Academies was increased to four (in Kiev, Moscow, St. Petersburg and Kazan') and eight new seminaries were opened. Teaching at all levels was upgraded, and a system of lesser schools, primarily for cantors, was created.

66. After graduating from the Kiev Academy Simon Todorskii (d. 1754) was sent abroad for ten years to study languages. On his return he taught at the Kiev Academy, was bishop of Kostroma and then archbishop of Pskov and a member of the Synod. Except for a small number of sermons his works were not published a report on Russian ecclesiastical schools remaining in the Imperiallibrary in St. Petersburg, a treatise on Oriental languages being kept in the library of the Academy of Sciences, and his Rudimenta linguae graecae remaining in manuscript in the library of the Chernigov Seminary. He also translated Arndt's On True Christianity, but it too was not put in print.

67. Johann Heinrich Michaelis (1668-1738) was a professor of Oriental languages and later of theology at the University of Halle. A pietist, he was the center of Francke's Collegium Orientale theologicum (see note 78) and he edited a critical edition of the Old Testament (1720) and an exegetical work on the Hagiographa (Halle, 1720).

68. The "Elizabethan Bible" was issued in 1751 and the printing was repeated in 1756, 1757 and 1759. [Author's note]. Iakov Blonnitskii (1711-1774) taught at the seminary in Tver' and from 1743 to 1748 he taught at the Moscow Academy. While in Moscow he composed a short Greek grammar, translated the Enchiridion of the Stoic philosopher Epictetus and began work on the new Bible. In 1748 he retired because of illness to a monastery in Belgorod, from which he secretly travelled to Mt. Athos, returning to the Kiev Brotherhood Monastery ten vears later. Blonnitskii also compiled an unpublished Slavonic grammar and translated Dionysius the Areopagite's On the Heavenly Hierarchy. Varlaam Liashchevskii (d. 1774) taught Greek at the Kiev Academy and was subsequently the rector of the Moscow Academy and a member of the Synod. He continued Blonnitskii's work on the Elizabethan Bible, wrote a foreword for it, and authored a Greek grammar in Latin which was later revised, expanded, translated into Russian and used as a standard textbook in all Russian seminaries.

69. The Walton, or Londinensis, Polyglot (London, 1654-1657) was edited by Brian Walton and Edmond Castle and contained the Scriptures in Hebrew, Samaritan, Aramaic, Greek, Latin, Ethiopian, Syrian, Arabic, and Persian. Of all polyglot Bibles it is still considered the best.

70. Compiled under the patronage of the Spanish cardinal and statesman Jimenez de Cisneros, the Complutensian Polyglot (Alcala de Hernares [Complutum), (1514-1517) combined the first printing of the Hebrew Old Testament, the Septuagint and the Greek New Testament with the Vulgate and Aramaic.

71. The Zographou monastery, together with the Russian monastery of St. Panteleimon and the Serbian monastery of Chilander (all of which still exist), formed a medieval literary center where Byzantine religious writings were translated into Slavonic. Here Blonnitskii had the opportunity of collating numerous Greek and Slavic manuscripts.

72. On Johann Mosheim see note 37. Joseph Bingham (1668-1723) was an English clergyman and scholar who wrote the exhaustive Origines ecclesiasticae, or The Antiquities of the Christian Church (10 volumes, 1708-1722). Joachim Lange (1670-1744) was a professor of theology at Halle, known mostly for his pietist doctrinal works and hymns, and for his Historia ecclesiastica Veteris et Novi Testamenti (Halle, 1722).

73. Louis Sebastien le Nain de Tillemont (1637-1698) was a French priest and scholar. He was a pioneer in applying internal criticism to historical documents, and his Histoire des Empereurs et des autres princes qui ont regne durant les six premiers siecles de l'dglise (six volumes, 1690-1738) won praise from the English historian Gibbon. His Memoires pour servir d l’histoire ecclesiastique des six premiers siecles (sixteen volumes, 1693-1712) was a massive, comprehensive and detailed work.

74. The first edition appeared in Moscow in 1773, the third in 1819. [Author's note] .

75. Veniam.in Rumovskii-Krasnopevkov (1739-1811) taught at the Aleksandr Nevskii Seminary and was also rector there before becoming bishop of Arkhangel in 1775 and Nizhegorod in 1798. Novaia Skrizhal', ili populnitel noe ob iasnenie o Tserkvi, o Giturgii, o vsekh sluzhbakh i utvariakh tserkovnykh went through numerous editions in the 19th century.

76. Euchologion is a common name for books containing the Orthodox liturgy and other rites. Various editions of it were published beginning in the 16th century, but the best and most complete is still Goar's Euchologium seu rituale graecorum (Paris, 1647). Goar (1601-1653) was a Dominican who lived on the Greek island of Chios for nine years and wrote several studies of the Eastern liturgy.

77. Irinei Klement'evskii (1753-1818), a graduate of the Moscow Academy, taught Greek and Hebrew there and was also the school preacher. A member of the Synod since 1788, he became bishop of Tver' in 1792 and archbishop of Pskov in 1798. Aside from his translations of the Church fathers his chief works are Tolkovaniia na sviashchennoe pisanie (in six volumes, 1782-1814), Sobranie pouchitel'nykh slov (1791) and Bogoslovskii traktat o smerti, o sude, o mukakh i vechnom blazhenstve (1795).

78. Cf. the Collegium Philobiblicum founded by August Francke. Francke himself was a professor of Hebrew. [Author's note]. August Hermann Francke (1663-1727) was converted to pietism in Leipzig,'and it was there that he founded his Bible study club, the Collegium Philobiblicum, in 1685. Later he taught Greek, Hebrew and theology at Halle while at the same time ministering to a local parish, where he was a most popular preacher. Francke also devoted himself to foreign missions and to the education of the poor.

79. The Orphan Asylum was founded by Francke in 1695. In it poor and orphaned children were provided for and given an elementary education, and the teaching staff consisted of poorer students at Halle University who gave lessons in exchange for their tuition. The Orphan Asylum also contained a publishing establishment that eventually became one of the greatest publishing houses in Germany.

80. Johann Arndt (155-1621) was a German Lutheran pastor known for his immensely popular mystical writings. Vier Bucher vom wahren Christentum (1606) was quickly translated into almost all European languages, and influenced many subsequent Protestant and Roman Catholic devotional writings, as well as St. Tikhon of Zadonsk (see below). Another well known mystical work of Arndt's is Paradiesgartlein aller chritlichen Tugenden (1612).

81. Anastasii propovednik rukovodstvo k poznaniiu stradanii spasitelia and Uchenie o nachale khristianskago zhitiia.

82. See above, note 60.

83. One of the most prominent bishops of Catherine II's reign, Innokentii Nechaev (1722-1799) was professor of philosophy and prefect of Moscow Academy, archimandrite of the Holy Trinity Monastery, bishop of Tver', archbishop of Pskov and a member of the Holy Synod. He was known more as a preacher and spiritual writer than a scholar, and his chief works in this connection are Nastavlenie sviashchenniku (St. Petersburg, 1793), Prigotovlenie k smerti (St. Petersburg, 1793) and Chin ispovedi dlia detei (St. Petersburg, 1793). Innokentii was also an active member of the Academy of Sciences in the liguistic division.

84. Cf. the "Statute for the Greater Encouragement of Students and for the Better Maintenance of the Learned Clergy." [Author's note].

85. The secularization of Church lands had been the aim of the Russian government since Peter the Great. Peter III, nephew of Elizabeth and husband of Catherine the Great, issued a decree transferring the administration and revenues of ecclesiastical properties and peasants to the government in 1762. After Catherine took power she found it necessary to postpone the move until she was more firmly enthroned, so she appointed a commission to study the matter. Then in March, 1764 Catherine confirmed the takeover. The decree on secularization criticized the Church administration in several respects, and in the process some 250 monasteries were disbanded or converted to parish churches.

86. From the "Proposal" [Proekt], paragraph 4. [Author's note].

87. Also known as the Primary Chronicle or the Tale of Bygone Years, Nestor's chronicle is an ancient, year by year account of the earliest events of Russian history, beginning with the year 852 and including the famous account of Russia's conversion to Christianity under Prince Vladimir. It was written in the firsf half of the 11th century, and over the next 75 years underwent several re-workings. Nestor, a monk of the Kiev Monastery of the Caves, was one of the final redactors. There is an English translation by S. H. Cross and O. B. Sherbowitz-Wetzor, The Russian Primary Chronicle (Cambridge, 1953).

88. Veniamin Bagrianskii was sent to Leyden in 1766 and returned in 1776. He taught philosophy at the Novgorod Seminary, served as rector of the Aleksandr Nevskii Seminary, then returned to Novgorod as professor of theology and rector before becoming bishop of Irkutsk in 1789.

89. Kirill Razumovskii (1724-1794), whose older brother Aleksei was the favorite of Empress Elizabeth, was the last hetman of the Ukraine, holding the office from 1750 to 1764.

90. Count Petr Aleksandrovich Rumiantsev (1725-1796) was a renowned general and field marshal and from 1764 the governor-general of the Ukraine.

91. Samuil Mislavskii (1731-1796) graduated from the Kiev Academy, was a professor and rector there, and from 1783 he was the metropolitan of Kiev. As a professor he used the teaching methods of Comenius (see chapter III, note 106) and as rector and metropolitan, inspired by the Enlightenment ideals of Catherine II's reign, he introduced the study of the Russian language and philology and such secular subjects as mathematics, geography and civil history. His Uchitel' very: dogmaty pravoslavnoi very was published in Kiev in 1760 and the Latin grammar he composed in 1765 was long considered the best in the Russian language. Metropolitan Samuil was also known as the continuator and publisher of the works of Feofan Prokopovich.

92. Sergei Konstantinovich Smirnov (1818-1889) was a prominent figure in ecclesiastical education in the '19th century. A professor and rector of the Moscow Academy, he was known as an able historian as well as a Greek, Patristic and Biblical scholar. The remark here is from his Istoriia Moskovskoi slavianogreko-latinskoi akademii (Moscow, 1855).

93. Joseph II was the Austrian emperor from 1765 to 1790. One of the 18th century "enlightened despots" he was a patron of science and scholarship and instituted numerous reforms in his empire, many of which did not even survive him. He visited Russia twice, in 1780 and 1785.

94. Throughout his autobiography Platon refers to himself in the third person.

95. A.P. Stanley, in his Lectures on the History of the Eastern Church (London, 1881) describes Bethany as "the gay Italian-like retreat." [Author's note].

96. Paul (1754-1801) was the son of Catherine II and (supposedly) her assassinated husband Peter III. He ascended the throne on his mother's death in 1796, forty-two years old; mentally unbalanced and despising his mother and her policies. After five years of tyranical rule he himself was assassinated and his elder son, Alexander I, became emperor.

97. In 1788 several groups of "Priestist" Old Believers (those who retained priests after the Schism) were admitted to the Russian Orthodox Church and allowed to use the pre-reform liturgy and service books provided they accept priests from the official Church hierarchy. More groups accepted this proposal and in 1800 the Holy Synod issued special canons for the edinovertsy.

98. For example, note the historical research of Nikodim Sellius (d. 1746). [Author's note]. On Nikodim Sellius see above, note 40.

99. The son of a poor fisherman, Mikhail Vasil'evich Lomonosov (1711-1765) became one of the premier scientists and linguists in Russian history. Educated at schools in Moscow and St. Petersburg, he then studied for five years at the University of Marburg under Christian Wolff. On his return he was a professor of chemistry at the Academy of Sciences and in 1755 helped organize Moscow University. As a scientist he worked in the fields of metallurgy, astronomy, geology, economics and geographical exploration, often anticipating later discoveries in the West. He was also known as a poet, and his odes helped establish a stylistic basis of versification for Russian poetry. Lomonosov's most intluential work, however, was in language. His Kratkoe rukovodstvo ritorike (1743) and especially his Rossiiskaia grammatika (1755) standardized the modern Russian literary language by merging, along strict theoretical lines, Old Church Slavonic and contemporary dialectical Russian.

100. Originally from Serbia, Makarii Petrovich (1734-1766) lived in Russia and studied at the Moscow Academy, then became rector of the Tver' Seminary. A collection of his sermons was also published posthumously in 1786.

101. Pravoslavnoe uchenie, soderzhashchee vse chto khristianinu svoego spaseniia ishchushchemu, znat' i delat' nadlezhit.

102. Arsenii Vereshchagin (1736-1799) taught rhetoric at Tver' since 1761 and on Makarii Petrovich's premature death in 1766 he succeeded him as rector and professor of theology. In 1773 he was made bishop of Arkhangel, but returned to Tver' in 1775 as bishop of that city, where he was extremely popular for his devotion to the seminary and care for the needs of the students. Later he became archbishop of Iaroslavl and Rostov and a member of the Synod. Known also as a Greek scholar (he introduced the study of Greek at the Tver' Seminary) Arsenii corrected and edited a 1772 Russian edition of Chrysostom's homilies.

103. Metropolitan of Kiev Evgenii Bolkhovitinov (1767-1837) was a most active compiler of historical materials and publicist. Entering Moscow Academy in 1785, he also took courses at the University of Moscow, where he was active in the translation and publishing circle around the Mason N.I. Novikov. In 1789 he went to Voronezh as a teacher of Church history in the seminary there, then in 1800 he came to St. Petersburg, took monastic vows and taught philosophy and oratory at the St. Petersburg Academy. Beginning in 1804 he held various episcopal positions until in 1822 he was chosen metropolitan of Kiev, where he remained until his death in 1837. Evgenii was a prolific, if not very deep writer. Wherever he lived he occupied himself with organizing local archival materials and producing short historical works on that particular region. In addition he made translations, wrote on Russian music and literature, produced official polemical works and engaged in archeology. His chief works are two dictionaries of Russian writers, Slovar' istoricheskii o byvshikh v rossii pisateliakh dukhovnago china (first published in 1805 in the journal Drug prosveshcheniia, revised and supplemented, 1827) and Slovar'russkikh svetskikh pisatelei (Moscow, 1845), and his Istoriia rossiisskoi ierarkhii (Kiev, 1827). See below, pp. 175-177.

104. See above, note 54.

105. Iuvenalii Medvedskii (1767-1809) was a monk from Novgorod who came to the Trinity Monastery in Moscow in 1802 and served as a catechist at the Trinity Seminary. His work cited here was one of the first atterapts at a theological system in the Russian language, Iuvenalii also wrote a Kratkaia ritorika na rossiiskom iazyke (Moscow, 1806).

106. The Table of Ranks was instituted by Peter the Great in 1722 as an attempt to reorganize the government bureaucracy and enlist the entire nobility in the service of the state. All military and civil positions were graded in fourteen ranks, all noblemen, regardless of family prestige, were to enter the lowest ranks, and advancement through the ranks was to be strictly regulated. Furthermore a commoner was able to enter the lowest rank and by working to the upper ranks attain noble status. This system originally encompassed the whole noble class, but although it survived until 1917, it was not strictly observed after Peter's time.

107. This is a reference to O povrezhdenii nravov v Rossii, by the political figure and publicist Mikhail Mikhailovich Shcherbatov (1733-1790). In it he attacked the manners of contemporary courtiers while glorifying pre-Petrine values. There is an English translation by A. Lentin, On the Corruption of Morals in Russia (Cambridge, England, 1969).

108. Such were the first lodges linked by I.P. Elagin; cf. also James Anderson's Book of Constitutions [Author's note]. The Book of Constitutions was a basic document of reformed English freemasonry and was published in 1723. On Elagin see note 127.

109. Note the search for "higher degrees" of the type elaborated by Baron Reichal, the so-called "system of strict observance." [Author's note]. The first Russian lodges functioned somewhat as social clubs. Later Russian freemasons formed elite groups of those dedicated to higher mystical activities, with tighter organization and discipline. Reichal (1729-1791), a former master of the ducal court at Brunswick (which abounded in masons) brought to Russia one of these higher levels of masonry.

110. Ivan Vladimirovich Lopukhin (1756-1816) served in the military and on the Moscow criminal courts before devoting himself completely to N.I. Novikov's publishing enterprise at Moscow University. Lopukhin translated works of Western mystics and freemasons, wrote several treatises of his own, and was grand master of a lodge in Moscow. Like others of Novikov's circle he also engaged in philanthropy and educational work, and served the governments of Paul and Alexander I in various positions. In 1790 he published a defense of freemasonry in Russia, Nravouchitel nyi katekhizis istinnykh fran-masonov.

111. The Theoretical Degree was a degree of the Rosicrucian Order, which was brought to Russia in 1782 by Schwartz (see below). Those who belonged to it were known as "Theoretical Brothers."

112. Francois de Salignac de la Mothe Fenelon (1651-1715) was a French theologian, educator and archbishop. While running a school for young Protestant girls converted to Catholicism in Paris he wrote the Traite de l’Education des filles (1687) which was influential in women's education. Then, between 1689 and 1699 when he was a tutor for the grandson of the French king, he produced his Fables, Dialogues des morts, and Telemaque, designed as a series of texts to fit the different levels of development of his royal pupil. The purpose of these texts was to train the prince to be a wise, virtuous ruler, and the last one, Telemaque: vaincre les passions, a pseudo-classical novel in verse based on the Odyssey, was extremely popular in Russia and provoked much political as well as literary discussion. In 1695 Fenelon became archbishop of Cambrai and wrote several mystical treatises, which embroiled him in controversies over quietism. His Traite de l’Existence de Dieu (1712-1718) approached the problem on both intellectual and mystical levels, and though Fenelon himself remained a devout Catholic, this and his other works were especially appealing to sentimentalists and deists.

113. Nikolai Mikhailovich Karamzin (1766-1826) was one of the most important literary figures of his day in Russia. In his early career he was a poet and novelist best known for Poor Giza (1792). In 1789 he traveled throughout Europe and on his return he edited the Moscow Journal, in which he published his Pis'ma russkogo puteshestvennika (1791-1792), a sentimental account of his travels written in the style of Laurence Sterne. Karamzin founded the journal Vestnik Evropy in 1802, but the next year he was named court historian and devoted the rest of his life to historical research. His Memoir on Ancient and Modern Russia (1811) and the twelve volume Istoriia gosudarstva rossiiskago (1819- 1826) were patriotic historical justifications of autocratic government in Russia and were influential both for historiography and literary style.

114. Vasilii Andreevich Zhukovskii (1783-1852) was an important Russian poet and translator, and a literary disciple of Karamzin. Educated in Moscow, he served in the military during the Napoleonic wars, became a member of the emperor's court and in 1826 was named a tutor to the future tsar Alexander II. He was one of the founders of the literary society Arzamas, and translated such Western romantics as Schiller, Goethe and Byron, as well as Homer's Odyssey.

115. Aleksei Mikhailovich Kutuzov (d. 1690) was introduced to the Rosicrucian order while a student at the University of Leipzig from 1766 to 1770. He was active in lodges in St. Petersburg and Moscow, where he was also engaged in extensive translating activity. Kutuzov died while on business for the order in Berlin.

116. Edward Young (1683-1765) was a well-known English writer. Night Thoughts (1742-1745), written after the successive deaths of three members of his family, is a long dramatic monologue divided into nine "Nights" expressing the author's grief, thoughts on death, and quest for religious consolation. Young was also the author of Conjectures on Original Composition (1759), a piece of literary criticism which anticipated several ideas of the romantics and was especially popular in Germany.

117. Ioann (Johann) Georg Schwartz (d. 1784) was a young, aristocratic student of the occult and member of a German "strict observance" lodge who was brought to Russia in 1776. He was soon placed by his influential patrons at Moscow University, where he lectured on philology, history and philosophy. Schwartz began his own "strict observance" lodge in Moscow in 1780, and the following year, on a trip abroad, he joined the Rosicrucians and brought that order back to Russia with him.

118. Claude-Adrien Helvetius (1715-1771) was a controversial French philosophe with a hedonist bent. His most famous works were De d'Esprit (1758), in which he denied all religious bases for morality, and De l’homme (1742), a treatise on education. Baruch (Benedict) Spinoza (1632-1677), a Dutch Jew, was the foremost exponent of an impersonal, rational order in the universe and the author of Ethica (1677), Tractatus de intellectus emendatione (1677) and Tractatus theologico-politicus (1670). Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778), the famous French philosopher and political theorist, was best known in Russia for Emile, ou de l’education (1762) and Du contrat social (1762).

119. Aleksandr Fedorovich Labzin (1766-1825) was one of the most influential Russian masons of the first decades of the 19th century (see below, pp. 170-172 and pp. 183-185). Educated under Schwartz at Moscow University, he worked for a time at the Academy of Ait, as a historiographer for Emperor Paul, and at the Admiralty under Alexander I. Labzin opened his own Rosicrucian lodge in 1800, and from 1801 to 1806 translated and published several works by Eckartshausen (see chapter V, note 13) and Jung-Stilling (see chapter V, note 19). In 1806 he began his famous journal Messenger of Zion, which at first did not succeed, but was resurrected in 1817 and this time enjoyed a wide circulation. Labzin then continued as a leading masonic publicist and active member of the Russian Bible Society until he was banished in 1821 for lese majeste.

120. On Jacob Boehme see chapter III, note 105.

121. One of the leaders of the anti-rationalism movement of the late 18th century, Louis-Claude de Saint-Martin (1743-1803) was a wealthy French aristocrat who devoted himself to mystical writings in the context of his higher order freemasonry. His Des Erreurs et de la veiite (1775) was an instant success and was almost immediately translated into Russian. Also popular were L Homme de desir (1790), Le Nouvel homme (1792), Le Crocodile (1798), L.Esprit de chose and Ge Ministere de l'homme-esprit (1802). He signed his works "Le Philosophe Inconnu" and because of his popularity in Russia Russian mason- mystics were commonly called "Martinists."

122. John Mason (1706-1763) was one of the best known of the English Nonconformists. He was famous in his time for his Self Knowledge; a Treatise, shewing the nature and benefice of that important science, and the way to attain it (London, 1754).

123. Semen Ivanovich Gamaleia (1743-1822), a former student of the Kiev Academy, taught Latin at the St. Petersburg military academy for two years before entering government service in 1770. He retired in 1784 to devote himself to his enormous translation activity (his translation of Boehme covers 22 volumes) in connection with Novikov's Typographic Company, and was also master of the Devkalion lodge in Moscow. His correspondence with his fellow masonic leaders (published in two volumes in Moscow, 1832, and a third volume, Moscow, 1836-1839) is an important source for the study of this period.

124. Valentin Weigel (1533-1588) was a Protestant mystic and an opponent of scholasticism. Johann Gichtel (1638-1710)- was a prominent theosophist at Zwoll, known for his attacks on Lutheran doctrine. His writings have been collected in the seven volume Theosophica practica. John Pordage (1608-1698), English astrologer and mystic, was the author of Theologia mystica (1680), Mystic divinitia (1683) and Metaphysica veva et divina (1698).

125. Early alchemists often combined mysticism and sorcery with their pseudochemical pursuits. Georg von Welling is known for his curious book, Opus MagoCabbalisticum et theosophicum, darinnen der Ursrung, Natur, Eigenschaften und Gebrauch, des Salzes, Schwefels und Mercurii (1735). Nikolaus Anton Kirchberger is important for his correspondence with Saint-Martin, Le corres-pondence inedite de L.D. de Saint-Martin dit le philosophe inconnu et Kirchberger Baron de Liebstorf (Amsterdam, 1862). Robert Fludd (1574-1673) was an English physician and Rosicrucian and the author of Medicina Catholic seu mysticum artis medicandi sacrarium (Frankfurt, 1629).

126. Lorenzo Scupoli (1530-1610) is the author of Combattimento Spirituale (1660), translated into English from a Russian text by E. Kadloubovsky and G. Palmer, Unseen Warfare (London, 1952). Angelus Silesius (1624-1677) wrote German religious poems inspired by the writings of Boehme. John Bunyan (1628-1688), an English minister, was widely famous for The Pilgrim's Progress (1678). Miguel de Molinos (1640-1697) was an important Spanish pietist. Pierre Poiret (1649-1719) was a French mystic, known for his L'economie divine (1687). Madame Guyon (1648-1717) was the most renowned exponent of quietism.

127. Ivan Perfil'evich Elagin (1725-1793) was a wealthy and influential official in Catherine's government and at one time director of music and the theater for her court. He was the chief organizer and spokesman for the more rational English freemasonry centered in St. Petersburg, becoming a mason in 1750 and in 1772 being named the West Russian provincial grand master.

128. The eldest son of Emperor Paul, Alexander I was proclaimed emperor after his father's assassination in 1801 and reigned until 1825. See chapter V, note 1 and pp. 162-168.

129. The philosophy of Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph von Schelling (1775-1854) was a quest for wholeness in the universe and in human life and knowledge, an attempt to combine the scientific study of nature with the religious and spiritual yearnings of mankind. Schelling's ideas were first spread among Russians in the first decades of the 19th century by two St. Petersburg professors, Daniil Kavunnik-Vellanskii and Aleksandr Galich, then at Moscow University by Ivan Davydov, Nikolai Nadezhdin and Mikhail Pavlov. In 1823 a group of students at Moscow University, including V.F. Odoevskii, Dimitrii Venevitinov, Aleksandr Koshelev, and Petr and Ivan Kireevskii, formed the Obshchestvo Liubomudriia [Society of Lovers of Wisdom], whose purpose was to discuss German idealistic philosophy, particularly Schelling. This group itself somewhat resembled a masonic organization and though it was disbanded in the wake of the Decembrist uprising its members continued to propagate Schelling's philosophy, and by the 1830's Schellingianism was dominant in Russian intellectual circles. Schelling's ideas were also at the root of Slavophilism.

130. Vladimir Fedorovich Odoevskii (1803-1869) was one of the founders in 1823 of the Society of Lovers of Wisdom (see preceding note). A graduate of Moscow University, he worked for several years on the journals Moskovskii Vestnik and Sovremennik (along with Pushkin) before moving to St. Petersburg in 1826. There he occupied himself with writing short stories and novels lordan Bruno i Petr Aretino, Samarianin, and Russkie nochi (all 1844) were three of an unfinished cycle of ten novels, and the philosophical discussions in them represent the height of the Russian romanticism of the 1830's. After these were published Odoevskii abandoned his literary activity and worked as director of the St. Petersburg library and from 1861 he was a senator. He is also known as the father of classical Russian musicology, and helped establish the St. Petersburg and Moscow conservatories.

131. Cf. the translation by A. Petrov of Count Haugwitz' Pastoral Epistle [Pastyrskoe Poslanie] which appeared in German in 1785. [Author's note].

132. On Schwartz see note 117 on Novikov see chapter V, note 38 on Kheraskov see chapter V, note 49 for Lopukhin see this chapter, note 110. Zakharii Iakovlevich Karneev (1747-1828), senator and member of the State Council under Alexander I, was active in the Moscow lodges and founded a lodge in Orel in 1784 (when he was vice-governor there). For Gamaleia see above, note 123.

133. Grigorii Skovoroda was a Ukrainian mystic and philosopher who acquired the character of a legend through almost 30 years of wandering about the Ukraine. He studied at the Kiev Academy, then, being an exceptional singer, was sent to the court chapel in St. Petersburg. In 1750 he accompanied a diplomatic mission to Hungary and spent three years roaming Hungary, Poland, Austria and Germany. On his return to Russia he taught for a year at the seminary in Pereiaslavl and also at the Kharkov Collegium. Skovoroda left there in 1766 and spent the remainder of his life on his famous peregrinations. He left a varied literary output consisting of dialogues, letters, poems, songs, folk tales, and some translations of ancient philosophers.

134. Mikhail Ivanovich Kovalinskii (or Kovalenskii, 1757-1807), a curator of Moscow University, was a life-long friend of Skovoroda, having first met him when the latter taught at the Kharkov Collegium in 1159. He wrote his Life in 1796, but it was not published until 1886, in Kievskaia Starina, no. 9.

135. Marc-Antoine Muretus (1526-1585) was a French humanist and a Roman Catholic priest and teacher in Rome. He issued several annotated editions of ancient Latin poets as well as his own poems in French, collected in Juvenilia (1552).

136. The Elizabeth Bible was commissioned by the Holy Synod in 1723 as a correction and revision of the last Slavonic Bible printed in 1663. The work was not completed until 1751, during the reign of Empress Elizabeth, and this Bible was printed four times in the 1750's.

137. Vladimir Frantsevich Ern (1882-1917) was a Russian philosopher. He wrote a biography of Skovoroda, published in Moscow in 1912.

138. The Khlysty were founded in the 17th century by a man who claimed to be God, declared one of his male disciples to be Christ, and one of his women followers to be the Mother of God. A group of this sect was discovered in Moscow in the 1730's, and over 400 were prosecuted for the heresy in Moscow in the 1740's. Thereafter the sect flourished underground, and by the late 19th century claimed over 60,000 members. The Khlysty denied the doctrine of the Holy Trinity and held that God inhabited the man Jesus Christ, who died a natural death and was buried in Jerusalem. Essentially dualistic, they taught that the body is the prison of the spirit and marriage was condemned and children called "incarnations of sin." God would become incarnate in the faithful Khlyst, however and he would have the inner voice of the spirit to direct him, making all books, including the Bible, superfluous. Congregations were typically led by a "Christ" and a "Mother of God" and their rituals turned into frenzied dances followed by ecstatic prophesying. The sect was able to grow underground because outwardly the members were pious church-goers, believing the Orthodox Church services to be symbols of their own mysteries.

139. The Skoptsy were a late 18th century offshoot of the Khlysty, who went even further in their condemnation of sexual relations by advocating a "baptism of fire" or castration. Their most important early leader was Konrad Selivanov, who was exiled to Siberia under Catherine II but returned to Moscow and was known personally to Emperors Paul and Alexander I. During the latter's reign some high placed connections allowed him to live quite comfortably and spread his doctrines rather freely. Under the next tsar, Nicholas I, the Skoptsy were persecuted, but like the Khlysty existed secretly in large numbers.

140. Appearing in this period in the Ukraine, the Dukhobors [Spirit-Wrestlers] were mystical sectarians whose doctrine combined Socinian, Freemason and Khlysty teachings. While rejecting the excessive prescriptions of the latter, they organized themselves in strict communes, which often, grew wealthy as a result of their hard work and sober living. They had many famous contacts, from Grigorii Skovoroda, who helped them compose a confession of faith presented to the governor of Ekaterinoslavl in 1791, to the novelist Count Lev Tolstoi. The latter provided funds for a large group of Dukhobors to emigrate to Western Canada in 1899.

141. The Molokans [Milk Drinkers] were formed by an early Dukhobor leader dissatisfied with their doctrine. The new sect resembled Evangelical Christianity at times, accepting the Bible as the sole authority for their faith while rejecting icons, rituals and fasts (thus their name).

142. Dimitrii Sechenov (1709-1767) was an important figure in the early years of Catherine II's reign, and the main executor of her ecclesiastical policies. Becoming a monk while a student at the Moscow Academy, Dimitrii taught there for several years then worked for ten years on missionary activities, in which he was highly successful. In 1742 he was named bishop of Nizhnii-Novgorod in1752 bishop of Riazan and Murom, and in 1757 he was elevated to archbishop of Novgorod. In all three sees Dimitrii actively promoted ecclesiastical education by improving and reorganizing the seminaries and in Novgorod he even established a system of grammar schools. Under Catherine Dimitrii served on several special commissions, including the commission on Church properties, and he died while attending the meetings of the Legislative Commission.

143. This favorable conclusion by the Synod is a direct reference to the decree of February 11, 1764 on the settlement of the brethren. [Author's note.].

144. Cf. the points raised by the Over Procurator I. I. Melissino in 1767 during the composition of a Synodal Instruction [Sinodal'nii nakaz] for the Legislative Commission. However, these points were not implemented. [Author's note].

145. See above, note 60.

146. Jean-Francois Marmontel (1723-1799), French poet, dramatist and critic, was best known for his autobiography, Memoires d'un pere (1804). Belissaire (1767) was a philosophical, romantic novel.

147. The Philokalia [Dobrotoliubie in Russian] is a compilation of mystical writings which is of great importance in Russian spirituality, containing rare and otherwise unknown texts and serving as a vital link to Palestinian and Byzantine spirituality. Compiled by the Athonite monks Macarius of Corinth and Nicodemus the Hagiorite, it was first published in Venice in 1792, but the complete version was only published in Russian in 1877. Portions of the Philokalia are available in English in E. Kadloubovsky and G. Palmer, Writings from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart (London, 1951) and Early Fathers from the Philokalia (London, 1954).

148. For some contemporary accounts of this famous saint, as well as excerpts from his writings, see Nordland's Collected Works of G.P. Fedotov.

149. Joseph Hall (1574-1656) was an Anglican bishop in the reign of Charles I. His Meditatiunculae Subitaneae eque re nata subortae later appeared in Russian translation as Vnezarnyia razmyshleniia, proizvedennyia vdrug pri vozzrenii na kakuiu-nibud'veshch' (Moscow, 1786). [Author's note] .

150. Noche oscura, Noche del Espiritu. Tikhon should also be compared to Tauler and Arndt. [Author's note]. St. John of the Cross, founder of the Spanish Discalced Carmelites (1542-1591), was known for his poetry and mystical theological writings and is a doctor of the Roman Catholic Church. Dark Night is a poem published with a theological commentary on reaching perfect union with God, The Ascent of Mount Carmel.

151. This story is recounted by Ivan Efimov in his memoirs of St. Tikhon. Tikhon "resolved to return to the man who had insulted him and to beg for forgiveness for 'having led him into such temptation.' So, going back, he fell at the feet of his host . . . This act so deeply impressed the nobleman that he himself fell on his knees at the bishop's feet, imploring forgiveness. From that day on his behavior towards his serfs was completely altered." See A Treasury of Russian Spirituality. Volume II in Nordland's Collected Works of G.P. Fedotov.

152. Veshchi and sovershenie in Tikhon's translation. [Author's note].

153. There is an excellent account of Paisii's life and influence on Russian monasticism published in English by Nordland Publishing Company: S. Chetverikov, Starets Paisii Velichkovskii.

154. See above, note 60.

155. St. Nil (c. 1433-1508) was the first great Russian mystical ascetical writer and the founder of the "non-possessing" school of monasticism. See above, Chapter I, section VI.

Notes to Chapter V.

1. From 1801 to 1825 Russia was ruled by Alexander I, the "enigmatic tsar." Alexander was born in 1777, the first son of the Grand Duke and future emperor Paul. His education, however, was supervised by his grandmother Catherine the Great, who hired as his tutor the Swiss republican Cesar La Harpe, and thus Alexander was reared in the atmosphere of the Enlightenment. He acquired an early reputation as a liberal, promising to grant Russia a constitution when he came to power, and also took great care to improve education (five new universities were established in his reign). Meanwhile Alexander's foreign policy through the complex years of the Napoleonic wars proved ultimately successful: the borders of the Russian empire were extended virtually to their 1914 limits and Russia emerged as a dominant force in European politics. By the time of Russia's defeat of Napoleon Alexander was openly exhibiting his tendencies to mysticism and the occult, lending his imperial ear to all manner of prophets and seers. Mystical societies were given free reign in Russia, and with the lifting of restrictions on foreign travel and the importation of foreign books, not to mention the direct contact with Europe through invasion and conquest, Russia was inundated by new and diverse ideas. Alexander himself began to travel ceaselessly throughout his empire and throughout Europe, devoting himself to such far-fetched schemes inspired by his mystical interests as the "Holy Alliance," and more and more he began to leave the conduct of state affairs to subordinates. The last four years of his reign, after he became obsessed with revolutionaries and was convinced that the mystical societies he had earlier fostered were conspiring against the established order, were marked by obscurantism and repression.

2. Ivan Sergeevich Aksakov (1823-1886), poet, editor of the journal Russkaia beseda and publisher of the newspaper Den', was a noted figure in Russian society in his time. In the 1860's he emerged as the leading ideologist of the Slavophiles.

3. The Pis'ma russkago puteshestvennika were written by Nikolai Karamzin after a journey through Germany, Switzerland, France and England in 1789-1790. In them he describes foreign values, customs and ideas in the style of 18th century European sentimental literature, especially Laurenc