III. MEANING OF DISEASES

(From a letter to gr. A.P. T...mu)

My strength weakens every minute, but not my spirit. Never before have bodily ailments been so debilitating. It is often so hard, so heavy, such terrible fatigue is felt throughout the entire body, that you are glad, like God knows what, when the day finally ends and you get to bed. Often, in spiritual impotence, you exclaim: “God! where is the shore of everything? But then, when you look back at yourself and look deeper inside, your soul no longer emits anything except tears and gratitude. 0! how we need illnesses! Of the many benefits that I have already derived from them, I will tell you only one: now, whatever I am, I have nevertheless become better than I was before; If it weren’t for these ailments, I would have thought that I had already become what I should be. Not to mention the fact that my health itself, which constantly pushes a Russian person to make some kind of leaps and the desire to show off his qualities in front of others, would force me to do a thousand stupid things. Moreover, now, in my fresh moments, which heavenly mercy gives me and in the midst of suffering itself, sometimes thoughts come to me that are incomparably better than before, and I see for myself that now everything that comes out of my pen will be more significant than before. If it weren’t for severe painful suffering, where would I not be now! what a significant person he would imagine himself to be! But, hearing every minute that my life is in the balance, that an illness can suddenly stop my work, on which all my significance is based, and the benefit that my soul so desires to bring, will remain in one powerless desire, and not in fulfillment, and I will not give any interest on the talents God has given me, and I will be condemned as the last of the criminals... Hearing all this, I humble myself every minute and cannot find words how to thank the heavenly Provider for my illness. So, you too, meekly accept any illness, believing in advance that it is needed. Pray to God only that its wonderful meaning and the full depth of its lofty meaning will be revealed to you.

IV. ABOUT WHAT A WORD IS

Pushkin, when he read the following verses from Derzhavin’s ode to Khrapovitsky:

Let it gnaw at me for my words,
The satirist honors for deeds, -

VI. ABOUT HELPING THE POOR

(From a letter to A.O.S......oh)

I appeal to your attacks on the stupidity of the St. Petersburg youth, who decided to offer golden wreaths and cups to foreign singers and actresses at the very time when entire provinces in Russia are starving. This does not happen from stupidity or hardness of hearts, or even from frivolity. This comes from our common human carelessness. These misfortunes and horrors produced by hunger are far from us; they take place inside the provinces, they are not before our eyes - this is the solution and explanation of everything! The same one who paid a hundred rubles for a seat in the theater in order to enjoy Roubini’s singing would have sold his last property if he had had the chance to actually witness at least one of those terrible pictures of famine, before which all the fears and horrors exhibited are nothing. in melodramas. We won’t have a problem with donations: we are all ready to sacrifice. But donations actually for the benefit of the poor are now not very willingly made in our country, partly because not everyone is sure whether his donation will properly reach its destination, whether it will fall into exactly the hands into which it should fall. Most often, it happens that help, like some kind of liquid carried in the hand, is all spilled along the way before it reaches, and the needy has to look only at one dry hand, in which there is nothing. Here's an item to think about before collecting donations. We will talk about this with you later, because this matter is not at all unimportant and is worth talking intelligently about. Now let’s talk about where we need help most quickly. You need to help, first of all, someone who has suffered a sudden misfortune, which suddenly, in one minute, deprived him of everything at once: either a fire that burned everything to the ground, or a death that wiped out all the livestock, or death that stole the only support, in a word - everything sudden deprivation, where poverty suddenly appears to a person, to which he has not yet had time to get used to. Bring help there. But it is necessary that this help be provided in a truly Christian way; if it consists only of issuing money, it will mean absolutely nothing and will not turn into good. If you have not first thought through in your own head the entire situation of the person you want to help, and have not brought with you teaching him how he should lead his life from now on, he will not receive much good from your help. The price of assistance provided rarely equals the cost of loss; in general it is barely half of what a person has lost, often one quarter, and sometimes even less. A Russian person is capable of all extremes: seeing that with the little money he has received he cannot lead life as before, out of grief he can suddenly squander what was given to him for long-term maintenance. Therefore, instruct him how to get out of it with the very help that you brought him, explain to him the true meaning of misfortune, so that he can see that it was sent to him then, so that he changes his previous life, so that from now on he will no longer be the same, but as if he were a different person both materially and morally. You will be able to say this intelligently if you only delve deeply into his nature and his circumstances. He will understand you: misfortune softens a person; his nature then becomes more sensitive and accessible to understanding objects that surpass the concept of a person in an ordinary and everyday situation; It’s as if it all turns into heated wax, from which you can sculpt whatever you want. It would be best, however, if all help were provided through the hands of experienced and intelligent priests. They alone are able to interpret to a person the holy and deep meaning of misfortune, which, in whatever forms and forms appears to anyone on earth, whether he lives in a hut or chambers, is the same cry from heaven, crying out to a person about the change in his entire life. former life.

VIII. A FEW WORDS ABOUT OUR CHURCH AND CLERGY

(From a letter to gr. A.P.T.....mu)

It is in vain that you are embarrassed by the attacks that are now being made against our Church in Europe. It would also be unfair to accuse our clergy of indifference. Why do you want our clergy, hitherto distinguished by the stately calmness so befitting of them, to join the ranks of European loudmouths and begin, like them, to print reckless pamphlets? Our Church acted wisely. To protect it, you must first know it yourself. But we generally don’t know our Church well. Our clergy is not idle. I know very well that in the depths of monasteries and in the silence of cells, irrefutable works are being prepared in defense of our Church. But they do their work better than we do: they are not in a hurry and, knowing what such a subject requires, they carry out their work in deep calm, praying, educating themselves, expelling from their souls everything passionate, similar to inappropriate, crazy fever, elevating your soul to that height of heavenly dispassion at which it should remain in order to be able to speak about such a subject. But even these defenses will not yet serve to completely convince Western Catholics. Our Church must be sanctified in us, and not in our words. We must be our Church and we must proclaim its truth. They say that our Church is lifeless. - They told a lie, because our Church is life; but they deduced their lie logically, deduced it with the correct conclusion: we are corpses, not our Church, and after us they called our Church a corpse. How can we defend our Church and what answer can we give them if they ask us the following questions: “Has your Church made you the best? Does everyone among you fulfill his duty as he should?” What will we then answer them, suddenly feeling in our soul and conscience that we have been walking past our Church all the time and barely know it even now? We own a treasure that has no price, and not only do we not care to feel it, but we don’t even know where we put it. The owner is asked to show the best thing in his house, and the owner himself does not know where it is. This Church, which, like a chaste virgin, has been preserved alone from the times of the apostles in its immaculate original purity, this Church, which, with all its deep dogmas and the slightest external rituals, seems to have been carried straight from Heaven for the Russian people, which alone is able to resolve everything knots of bewilderment and our questions, which can produce an unheard of miracle in the sight of all of Europe, forcing every class, rank and position in us to enter their legal borders and limits and, without changing anything in the state, give Russia the power to amaze the whole world with the harmonious harmony of the same the very organism with which it had hitherto frightened us - and this Church is unknown to us! And we still have not introduced this Church, created for life, into our lives!

No, God bless us and protect our Church now! This means dropping it. There is only one propaganda possible for us - our life. With our life we ​​must defend our Church, which is all life; We must proclaim its truth with the fragrance of our souls. Let the missionary of Western Catholicism beat his chest, wave his arms, and with the eloquence of sobs and words, let out soon-drying tears. The preacher of Eastern Catholicism must speak before the people in such a way that just from his humble appearance, extinguished eyes and quiet, stunning voice emanating from a soul in which all the desires of the world have died, everything would move even before he explains the matter itself, and one voice would speak to him: “Don’t utter words, we hear the holy truth of your Church without them!”

IX. ABOUT THE SAME

The remark that the power of the Church is weak in our country because our clergy has little secularism and dexterity in dealing with society is as absurd as the assertion that our clergy is completely removed from any contact with life by the statutes of our Church and is bound in their actions by the government . Our clergy are shown legal and precise boundaries in their contacts with the light and people. Believe me, if they began to meet with us more often, participating in our daily meetings and walks or getting involved in family affairs, it would not be good. The spiritual will face many temptations, much more so even than us: just those intrigues would start in the houses for which the Roman Catholic priests are accused. The Roman Catholic priests became bad precisely because they became too secular. Our clergy have two legitimate fields in which they meet with us: confession and preaching. In these two fields, of which the first happens only once or twice a year, and the second can be every Sunday, a lot can be done. And if only the priest, seeing a lot of bad things in people, knew how to remain silent about it for a while and think for a long time in himself how to say it in such a way that every word would reach straight to the heart, then he will already speak about it so strongly in confession and sermon , as never to tell him in daily conversations with us. It is necessary that he speak to a person standing in the middle of the light from some elevated place, so that it is not his presence that the person hears at this time, but the presence of God Himself, listening equally to both of them, and mutual fear from His invisible presence would be heard. No, it’s even good that our clergy is located at some distance from us. It’s good that even with their very clothes, not subject to any changes and whims of our stupid fashions, they separated from us. Their clothes are beautiful and majestic. This is not the meaningless, leftover from the eighteenth century rococo and not the patchwork, non-explanatory clothing of Roman Catholic priests. It makes sense: it is in the image and likeness of the clothes that the Savior Himself wore. It is necessary that even in their very clothes they carry for themselves an eternal reminder of Him, Whose image they must represent to us, so that even for one moment they do not forget and become confused among the entertainments and insignificant needs of the world, for from them a thousand times more will be exacted than from each of us; so that they can constantly hear that they are, as it were, different and higher people. No, while the priest is still young and life is unknown to him, he should not even meet people except at confession and sermon. If you enter into a conversation, then only with the wisest and most experienced of them, who could introduce him to the soul and heart of a person, portray to him life in its true form and light, and not in the way in which it appears to an inexperienced person. The priest also needs time for himself: he needs to work on himself. He must follow the example of the Savior, who spent a long time in the desert and not before, after a forty-day preparatory fast, came out to the people to teach them. Some of today's wise men have invented that you need to jostle among the world in order to recognize it. This is just nonsense. The refutation of this opinion is provided by all secular people who are always jostling among the world and for all that are the emptiest of all. They are brought up for the light not in the midst of the light, but far from it, in deep inner contemplation, in the exploration of their own soul, for there are laws for everything and everyone: just first find the key to your own soul; when you find it, then with this same key you will unlock the souls of everyone.

X. ABOUT THE LYRISM OF OUR POETS

(Letter to V.A. Zh.......mu)

Let's talk about the article over which the death sentence was pronounced, that is, about the article entitled: “On the lyricism of our poets.” First of all, thanks for the death sentence! This is the second time I have been saved by you, O my true mentor and teacher! Last year your hand stopped me when I was about to send my stories about Russian poets to Pletnev in Sovremennik; now you have again destroyed the new fruit of my folly. You're the only one stopping me, while everyone else is rushing me for unknown reasons. How many stupid things I could have done already if I had only listened to my other friends! So, first of all, here is my song of thanks! And then let's look at the article itself. I’m ashamed when I think how stupid I still am and how I don’t know how to talk about anything smarter. The most absurd thoughts and rumors about literature come out. Here somehow everything especially becomes pompous, dark and incomprehensible for me. My own thought, which I not only see with my mind, but even feel with my heart, I am unable to convey. The soul hears a lot, but I can’t retell or write anything. The basis of my article is fair, and yet I explained myself in such a way that every expression provoked contradiction. I repeat the same thing again: in the lyricism of our poets there is something that the poets of other nations do not have, namely, something close to the biblical, that highest state of lyricism, which is alien to the movements of passionate ones and is firmly flying in the light of reason, the supreme triumph of spiritual sobriety. Not to mention Lomonosov and Derzhavin, even in Pushkin one can hear this strict lyricism everywhere he touches lofty objects. Just remember his poems: to the Shepherd of the Church, “The Prophet” and, finally, this mysterious escape from the city, published after his death. Go through Yazykov’s poems and you will see that every time he somehow becomes immeasurably higher than both passions and himself when he touches something higher. I will cite one of his even young poems, called “Genius”; it's not long:

When, thundering and flaming, the Prophet flew to heaven,
The mighty fire penetrated
The living soul of Elisha.
Full of holy feelings
She matured, grew stronger, rose,
And I was filled with inspiration,
And she heard God.
So the genius trembles joyfully,
Knows his greatness
When it thunders and shines before him
Another genius's flight.
His resurrected power
Instantly ripe for miracles,
And new luminaries for the world -
Deeds of the chosen one of heaven.

What light and what severity of greatness! I explained this by saying that our poets saw every lofty subject in its legitimate contact with the supreme source of lyricism - God, some consciously, others unconsciously, because the Russian soul, due to its Russian nature, already hears this somehow by itself, no one knows why. I said that two subjects evoked in our poets this lyricism, close to the biblical. The first of them is Russia. With just this name, our poet’s gaze suddenly brightens, his horizons expand further, everything becomes broader for him, and he himself seems to be clothed with greatness, becoming higher than an ordinary person. This is something more than ordinary love to the fatherland. Love for the fatherland would sound like cloying boasting. Our so-called leavened patriots are proof of this: after their praise, however quite sincere, you will only spit on Russia. Meanwhile, Derzhavin starts talking about Russia - you hear an unnatural strength in yourself and, as it were, you yourself breathe the greatness of Russia. One simple love to the fatherland would not have given the strength not only to Derzhavin, but even to Yazykov, to express himself so broadly and solemnly every time he touched Russia. For example, at least in poetry, where he depicts how Batory stepped on her:

Sovereign Stefan
To one mighty camp
Already gathering thick crowds -
Let him overthrow the Pskovites,
Let Russia be destroyed!
But you, love for the fatherland,
You, what our grandfathers were proud of,
You're up in arms. Blood for blood -
And he didn't celebrate the victory!

This heroically sober power, which at times is even combined with some kind of involuntary prophecy about Russia, is born from an involuntary touch of thought to the supreme Providence, which is so clearly heard in the fate of our fatherland. In addition to love, there is a hidden horror involved here at the sight of those events that God commanded to take place in the land destined to be our fatherland, the insight of a beautiful new building, which is not yet being visibly built for everyone and which can be heard with the all-hearing ear of poetry by a poet or such a seer who has already its fruit may appear in the grain. Now other people are beginning to hear this little by little, but they express themselves so unclearly that their words look like madness. You are wrong to think that today’s youth, raving about Slavic principles and prophesying about the future of Russia, are following some kind of fashionable fad. They don’t know how to nurture thoughts in their heads, they are in a hurry to announce them to the world, not noticing that their thoughts are still stupid children, that’s all. And among the Jewish people, four hundred prophets suddenly prophesied: of them, only one was the chosen one of God, whose legends were entered into the holy book of the Jewish people; all the others probably said a lot of unnecessary things, but nevertheless they heard vaguely and darkly the same thing that the chosen ones were able to say sensibly and clearly; otherwise the people would have stoned them. Why is neither France, nor England, nor Germany infected with this epidemic and do not prophesy about themselves, but only Russia prophesies? - Because, more than others, she hears God’s hand on everything that happens in her, and senses the approach of another Kingdom. That is why the sounds become biblical among our poets. And this cannot be the case with poets of other nations, no matter how much they love their homeland and no matter how ardently they know how to express such love. And don’t argue with me on this, my beautiful friend!

But let’s move on to another subject, where our poets also hear that high lyricism we are talking about, that is, love for the king. From the many hymns and odes to kings, our poetry, already from the times of Lomonosov and Derzhavin, received some kind of majestic, regal expression. That their feelings are sincere - there is nothing to say about that. Only those who are endowed with petty wit, capable of only instantaneous, easy considerations, will see here flattery and the desire to get something, and such consideration will be based on some insignificant and bad odes of the same poets. But he who is more than witty, who is wise, will stop before those odes of Derzhavin, where he outlines the ruler wide circle his beneficial actions, where he himself, with tears in his eyes, tells him about those tears that are ready to flow from the eyes, not only of Russians, but even of the insensitive savages living at the ends of his empire, from just the touch of that mercy and that love that One powerful government can show the people. Much is said here so powerfully that even if there were a sovereign who would forget his duty for a while, then, having read these lines, he would remember it again and be moved by the holiness of his title. Only the cold-hearted would reproach Derzhavin for excessive praise of Catherine; but whoever is not a stone at heart will not read without emotion those wonderful verses where he says that if his marble idol passes on to posterity, it will be because

Nor will he read these almost dying verses without unfeigned emotional emotion:

Old age is cold in spirit, it takes away the eye from the lyre:
Catherine's muse is dozing.
...Sing
I really can't. For other singers to thunder
I'll leave mine as old strings.
May the Peruns draw from them again
Those pure fiery lights,
How I sang of the three kings.

The old man at the door of the coffin will not lie. During his life, he carried this love like a shrine, and carried it beyond the grave as a shrine. But that's not what we're talking about. Where did this love come from? - that's the question. That the whole people hears it with some kind of heartfelt feeling, and therefore the poet, as the purest reflection of the same people, should have heard it to the highest degree - this will explain only one half of the matter. A complete and perfect poet does not indulge in anything unconsciously, without testing it with the wisdom of his full mind. Having an ear to hear ahead, containing within himself the desire to recreate in full the same thing that others see fragmentarily, from one or two sides, and not from all four, he could not help but see the development of the fullest of this power. How cleverly Pushkin defined the meaning of a full-powered monarch and how clever he was in general in everything he said in Lately own life! “Why is it necessary,” he said, “for one of us to become above everyone else and even above the law itself? Because the law is a tree; in the law a person hears something harsh and unbrotherly. Just literal fulfillment of the law will not get you far; none of us should violate or fail to fulfill it; This is why the highest mercy is needed, softening the law, which can appear to people only in one full-powered power. A state without a full-powered monarch is an automaton: a lot, a lot, if it achieves what the United States has achieved. What is the United States? Carrion; the person in them has weathered to the point that they are not worth a damn. A state without a full-powered monarch is the same as an orchestra without a conductor: no matter how good all the musicians may be, if there is not one among them who would signal everything with the movement of a baton, the concert will not go anywhere. But it seems that he himself does nothing, does not play any instrument, just waves his stick slightly and glances at everyone, and just one look from him is enough to soften, in this and that place, some rough sound that another fool would have let out a drum or a clumsy tulumbas. With him, even a masterful violinist does not dare to go too wild at the expense of others: he maintains the general order, the revitalizer of everything, the leader of the supreme agreement! How aptly Pushkin put it! How he understood the meaning of great truths! He even partially expressed this inner being - the power of an autocratic monarch - in one of his poems, which, by the way, you yourself published in the posthumous collection of his works, you even corrected the verse in it, but did not guess the meaning. Now I will reveal his secret. I'm talking about an ode to Emperor Nicholas, which appeared in print under the modest name: “To N***.” Here is its origin. It was an evening at the Anichkov Palace, one of those evenings to which, as you know, only a select few from our society were invited. Pushkin was among them then. Everyone in the halls has already gathered; but the sovereign did not come out for a long time. Moving away from everyone to the other half of the palace and taking advantage of the first idle minute from business, he unfolded the Iliad and was insensitively carried away by reading it all the time when music had long been thundering in the halls and dancing was in full swing. He went to the ball a little late, bringing on his face traces of other impressions. The rapprochement of these two opposites slipped unnoticed by everyone, but in Pushkin’s soul it left strong impression, and to its fruits there was the following majestic ode, which I will repeat here in its entirety, it is all in one stanza:

You talked to Homer alone for a long time,
We've been waiting for you for a long time.
And bright you came down from the mysterious heights
And they brought us their secrets.
So what? You found us in the desert under a tent,
In the madness of a vain feast,
Singing a riotous song and galloping around
An idol created from us.
We were confused, alienated from your rays,
In a fit of anger and sadness
You cursed us, senseless children,
Having broken the sheets of his concealment.
No, you didn't curse us. You love from above
Go under the shadow of a small valley,
You love the thunder of heaven, and you also listen
The murmur of bees over a scarlet rose.

Let's leave the personality of Emperor Nicholas and analyze what a monarch is in general, as God's anointed, obliged to strive for the people entrusted to him to the light in which God dwells, and did Pushkin have the right to liken him to the ancient God-seer Moses? One of the people upon whose shoulders the fate of millions of his brothers has fallen, who, by the terrible responsibility for them before God, has already been freed from all responsibility before people, who is sick with the horror of this responsibility and sheds, perhaps invisibly, such tears and suffers such suffering, about which the man standing below cannot think, who, in the midst of entertainment itself, hears the eternal cry of God, incessantly resounding in his ears, incessantly crying out to him - he can be likened to the ancient seer of God, can, like him, break the leaves of his secret, cursing the wind-whirling tribe, which, instead of striving for what everything on earth should strive for, vainly jumps around its own idols, created by itself. But Pushkin was stopped by the even higher significance of the same power, which the weak powerlessness of humanity begged from heaven, begged for it not with a cry for heavenly justice, before which not a single person on earth could resist, but with a cry for heavenly love God, who would be able to forgive us everything - both the oblivion of our debt, and our very grumbling - everything that man on earth does not forgive, so that one would then only gather his power into himself and separate himself from all of us and become above all else on earth. earth, in order to thereby become closer to everyone equally, to descend from on high to everything and to listen to everything, from the thunder of heaven and the poet’s lyre to our imperceptible amusements.

It seems as if in this poem Pushkin, having asked himself the question of what this power is, fell into the dust before the greatness of the answer that arose in his soul. It does not hurt to note that this was a poet who was too proud of both the independence of his opinions and his personal dignity. No one said about himself like he did:

I erected a monument to myself, not made by hands,
The folk path to it will not be overgrown:
He ascended higher with his rebellious head
Napoleon's Pillar.

Although Napoleon's Pillar is, of course, your fault; but let us suppose that even if the verse had remained in its original form, it would still have served as proof, and even greater, as Pushkin, feeling his personal advantage as a person over many of the crown bearers, heard at the same time all the smallness of the title his before the title of crown bearer and knew how to reverently bow before those of them who showed the world the majesty of their title.

Our poets have glimpsed the supreme significance of the monarch, hearing that he must inevitably finally become all one love, and thus it will become clear to everyone why the sovereign is the image of God, as our whole earth recognizes, as long as by instinct. The importance of the sovereign in Europe will inevitably approach the same expression. Everything leads to this, to bring out the highest in sovereigns. Divine love for peoples. The cries of mental suffering of all mankind are already being heard, with which almost every one of the current European peoples , and rushes about, poor thing, not knowing how or how to help himself: any outside touch to his severely aching wounds; every means, every help invented by the mind is rude to him and does not bring healing. These cries will finally intensify to the point that the insensitive heart will burst with pity, and the power of hitherto unprecedented compassion will evoke the power of another, hitherto unprecedented love. A person will burst into flames with love for all humanity, such as he has never lit up before. None of us, private people, can have such love in all its strength; it will remain in ideas and thoughts, and not in action; Only those who have already made it an indispensable law to love everyone as one person can be fully imbued with it. Having loved everything in his state, down to a single person of every class and rank, and having converted everything that is in it, as if into his own body, he was sick in spirit for everyone, grieving, weeping, praying day and night for his suffering people, the sovereign will acquire that omnipotent voice of love, which alone can be accessible to sick humanity and whose touch will not be harsh to its wounds, which alone can bring reconciliation to all classes and turn the state into a harmonious orchestra. Only there will the people be completely healed, where the monarch will comprehend his highest meaning - to be the image of Him on earth, Who Himself is love. In Europe, it never occurred to anyone to define the highest significance of a monarch. Statesmen, lawyers and jurists looked at one side of it, namely, as the highest official in the state, appointed by the people, and therefore they do not even know how to deal with this power, how to indicate the proper boundaries to it, when, due to daily changing circumstances, Sometimes it is necessary to either expand its limits or limit it. And through this, both the sovereign and the people are placed in a strange position among themselves: they look at each other in almost the same way as at opponents who want to use power at the expense of the other. Our poets, not lawyers, saw with trepidation the will of God to create it in Russia in its legal form; That’s why their sounds become biblical every time the word king comes out of their mouth. It is heard here even by non-poets, because the pages of our history speak too clearly about the will of Providence: may this power be formed in Russia in its full and perfect form. All events in our fatherland, starting from the enslavement of the Tatars, apparently tend to gather power into the hands of one, so that one would be able to carry out this famous revolution in everything in the state, shake everything and, having awakened everyone, arm each of us with that highest a look at oneself, without which it is impossible for a person to disassemble, condemn himself and raise in himself the same battle against everything ignorant and dark that the king raised in his state; so that later, when everyone is already aflame with this holy war and everyone comes to the consciousness of their strength, he could also, alone, in front of everyone, with a lamp in his hand, direct, as one soul, his entire people towards that supreme light to which Russia is asking. See also how, by what miraculous means, even before the full significance of this power could be explained to both the sovereign himself and his subjects, the seeds had already been sown mutual love into the hearts! Not a single royal house began as unusually as the house of the Romanovs began. Its beginning was already a feat of love. The last and lowest subject in the state brought and laid down his life in order to give us a king, and with this pure sacrifice he inextricably linked the sovereign with the subject. Love entered our blood, and we all developed a blood relationship with the king. And so the sovereign merged and became one with the subject, that we all now see a common misfortune - whether the sovereign will forget his subject and renounce him, or the subject will forget his sovereign and renounce him. How clearly it also turns out to be the will of God - to choose the Romanov surname for this, and not another! How incomprehensible is this elevation to the throne of an unknown youth! Right next to them stood the most ancient families, and, moreover, men of valor who had just saved their fatherland: Pozharsky, Trubetskoy, and finally the princes who descended in a direct line from Rurik. All of them were elected, and not a single vote was against: no one dared to present their rights. And this happened in that troubled time, when anyone could quarrel, and argue, and gather gangs of adherents! And who did they choose? The one who came along female line a relative of the tsar, from whom the recent horror spread throughout the whole earth, so that not only the boyars oppressed and executed by him, but even the people themselves, who suffered almost nothing from him, for a long time repeated the saying: “The head was good, but thank God that the earth has been cleaned up." And with all this, everyone unanimously, from the boyars to the last noble, decided that he should be on the throne. This is how we do things! How do you want the lyricism of our poets who have heard full definition king in the books of the Old Testament and who at the same time saw so closely the will of God in all events in our fatherland - how do you want the lyricism of our poets not to be filled with biblical echoes? I repeat, simple love would not have been able to invest their sounds with such stern sobriety; for this, a complete and firm conviction of the mind is required, and not just an unconscious feeling of love, otherwise their sounds would come out soft, like in your previous young works, when you indulged in the feeling of only one loving soul his. No, there is something strong, too strong, in our poets, which the poets of other nations do not have. If you don’t see it, that doesn’t prove that it didn’t exist at all. Remember for yourself that you do not have all aspects of Russian nature; on the contrary, some of them have risen in you to such high degree and you developed so freely that through this you did not give room to others, and you have already become an exception to the all-Russian character. You contain completely all the soft and gentle strings of our Slavic nature; but those thick and strong strings of it, from which secret horror and shudder pass through the entire makeup of a person, are not so well known to you. And they are the springs of the lyricism we are talking about. This lyricism can no longer ascend to anything other than its one supreme source - God. He is stern, he is timid, he does not like verbosity, everything that is on earth is cloying to him, unless he sees the imprint of God on it. Anyone who has even one grain of this lyricism, despite all the imperfections and shortcomings, contains within himself a stern, highest spiritual nobility, before which he himself trembles and which makes him run away from anything resembling an expression of gratitude from people. He will suddenly become disgusted with his own best feat if some reward follows for it: he feels too much that everything higher should be higher than the reward. It was only after Pushkin’s death that his true relationship to the sovereign and the secrets of his two best works were revealed. During his lifetime, he did not tell anyone about the feelings that filled him, and he acted smartly. After, as a result of all sorts of cold newspaper exclamations, written in the style of lipstick advertisements, and all sorts of angry, untidy and passionate antics produced by all sorts of leavened and unleavened patriots, we in Rus' stopped believing in the sincerity of all printed outpourings, it was dangerous for Pushkin to go out: he would just called corrupt or something searching person. But now, when these works appeared only after his death, it is true that there will not be found in all of Russia such a person who would dare to call Pushkin a flatterer or a pleaser to anyone. Through this, the shrine of high feeling was preserved. And now everyone who is not even able to comprehend the matter with his own mind will take it on faith, saying: “If Pushkin himself thought so, then surely this is the absolute truth.” The royal hymns of our poets amazed the foreigners themselves with their majestic composition and style. Just recently Mickiewicz said this at lectures in Paris, and said it at a time when he himself was irritated against us, and everything in Paris was indignant at us. Despite, however, he solemnly declared that in the odes and hymns of our poets there is nothing slavish or base, but, on the contrary, something freely majestic: and right there, although none of his fellow countrymen liked it, he gave honor to the nobility of the characters of our writers. Miscavige is right. Our writers, for sure, embodied the features of some higher nature. In moments of consciousness, they themselves left their spiritual portraits, which would have echoed with self-praise if their lives had not supported this. This is what Pushkin says about himself, thinking about his future fate:

And for a long time I will be kind to those people,
That I awakened good feelings with my lyre,
That the charm of living poetry was useful to me
And he called for mercy for the fallen.

One only has to remember Pushkin to see how true this portrait is. How he became animated and flushed when it came to alleviating the fate of some exile or giving a hand to the fallen! How he waited for the first minute of the royal favor towards him in order to start talking not about himself, but about another unfortunate, fallen one! The trait is truly Russian. Just remember the touching spectacle of a whole nation visiting exiles going to Siberia, when everyone brings food, some money, some Christian comforting words. There is no hatred for the criminal, nor is there a quixotic impulse to make a hero out of him, to collect his facsimiles, portraits, or to look at him out of curiosity, as is done in enlightened Europe. There is something more here: not a desire to justify him or snatch him from the hands of justice, but to raise his fallen spirit, to console him, as a brother consoles his brother, as Christ commanded us to console each other. Pushkin valued too highly any desire to raise up the fallen. That is why his heart trembled so proudly when he heard about the sovereign’s arrival in Moscow during the horrors of cholera - a trait that hardly any of the crown bearers showed and which evoked these wonderful verses from him:

Heaven
I swear: who with his life
Played before the gloomy illness,
To cheer up the faded gaze, -
I swear, he will be a friend to Heaven,
Whatever the verdict
The earth is blind.

He also knew how to appreciate another feature in the life of another crown bearer, Peter. Remember the poem “Feast on the Neva,” in which he asks with amazement about the reason for the extraordinary celebration in the royal house, which resounds with shouts throughout St. Petersburg and along the Neva, shocked by the firing of cannons. He goes through all the cases that were joyful to the king, which could be the reason for such a feast: whether the sovereign was born an heir to his throne, whether his birthday girl was his wife, whether an invincible enemy was defeated, whether the fleet that was the favorite passion of the sovereign arrived, and to all this he answers:

No, he makes peace with his subject,
To the guilty wine
Forgetting, having fun,
Charka is alone with him.
That's why the feast is fun,
The speech of the guests is intoxicating, noisy,
And the Neva fires heavily
Far shocked.

Only Pushkin alone could feel the beauty of such an act. To be able to not only forgive one’s subject, but also to triumph over this forgiveness as a victory over the enemy, is a truly Divine trait. Only in heaven can they do this. There they only rejoice at the conversion of the sinner even more than at the righteous man himself, and all the hosts of invisible forces participate in the heavenly feast of God. Pushkin was a connoisseur and true appraiser of everything great in man. And how could it be otherwise, if spiritual nobility is already a characteristic of almost all our writers? It is remarkable that in all other lands the writer is in some kind of disrespect from society regarding his personal character. It's the opposite here. In our country, even someone who is simply a doer and not a writer, and who is not only not handsome in soul, but even at times downright mean, is by no means revered as such in the depths of Russia. On the contrary, everyone in general, even those who have barely heard of writers, already has some kind of conviction that a writer is something higher, that he must certainly be noble, that many things are indecent for him, that he should not even allow to oneself what is forgiven to others. In one of our provinces, during the noble elections, one nobleman, who was also a writer, cast his vote in favor of a man whose conscience was somewhat stained - all the nobles turned to him immediately and reproached him, saying reproachfully: “And also a writer!”

XI. DISPUTES

(From a letter to L***)

Disputes about our European and Slavic origins, which, as you say, are already making their way into living rooms, only show that we are beginning to wake up, but are not yet fully awake; and therefore it is not surprising that there is a lot of talk on both sides. All these Slavists and Europeanists, or Old Believers and New Believers, or Easterners and Westerners, but I can’t say what they really are, because for now they seem to me only caricatures of what they want to be - they all talk about two different sides of the same subject, without realizing that they are not arguing or contradicting each other at all. One has come too close to the building, so that he can see one part of it; the other has moved too far away from him, so that he sees the entire facade, but does not see parts. Of course, there is more truth on the side of the Slavists and Easterners, because they still see the whole facade and, therefore, still talk about the main thing, and not about the parts. But there is also truth on the side of the Euro-ists and Westerners, because they speak in quite detail and clearly about the wall that stands before their eyes; Their only fault is that because of the cornice crowning this wall, they cannot see the top of the entire structure, that is, the dome, the dome and everything that is on high. We could advise both - one to try, albeit temporarily, to come closer, and the other to retreat a little further. But they will not agree to this, because the spirit of pride has overcome both of them. Each of them is sure that he is definitively and positively right, and that the other is definitively and positively lying. Puffiness is more on the side of the Slavs: they are boasters; Each of them imagines that he has discovered America, and the grain he finds swells into a turnip. Of course, with such obstinate boasting they arm the Europists even more against themselves, who would have long ago been ready to give up a lot, because they themselves are beginning to hear a lot that they had not heard before, but they persist, not wanting to give in to a person who is too boastful. All these disputes are nothing, if only they remained in living rooms and in magazines. But the bad thing is that two opposing opinions, being in such an immature and vague form, are already passing into the heads of many official people. I was told that it happens (especially in those places where position and power are divided in the hands of two) in such a way that at the same time one acts completely in the European spirit, and the other tries to strive decisively in the Old Russian spirit, strengthening all the previous orders, opposite to those that his brother is plotting. And that is why trouble comes to both the affairs and the subordinate officials themselves: they do not know whom to listen to. And since both opinions, despite all their harshness, have not finally decided everything, they say that all sorts of scoundrels take advantage of this. And the rogue now had the opportunity, under the guise of a Slavicist or a Europeanist, depending on what the boss wants, to get a profitable position and perform tricks on it as both a champion of antiquity and a champion of novelty. In general, disputes are things of this kind that smart and elderly people should not pester for the time being. Let the youth shout out loudly first: this is their business. Believe me, it’s already established this way and it is necessary that the leading loudmouths shout out to their heart’s content then, so that the smart ones can think enough at this time. Listen to disputes, but do not interfere in them. The idea of ​​your essay, which you want to do, is very clever, and I am even sure that you will accomplish this task better than any writer. But I ask you one thing: do it in as many minutes as possible, cool and calm. God bless you from impatience and fever, even in the slightest expression. Anger is inappropriate everywhere, and most of all in a matter of justice, because it obscures and muddies it. Remember that you are not only a middle-aged person, but even quite advanced in years. The young man still somehow got angry; at least in the eyes of some it gives it some kind of picturesque appearance. But if the old man starts to get excited, he becomes simply disgusting; the youth will just pick on him and make him look funny. Be careful that they don’t say about you: “Eh, you nasty old man! I’ve been lying on my side all my life, doing nothing, and now I’ve come out to reproach others for why they’re doing things wrong!” A kind word should come from the mouth of an old man, and not noisy and controversial. The spirit of the purest kindness and meekness should permeate the majestic speeches of the elder, so that the youth would not be able to say anything to object to him, feeling that her speeches would be indecent and that gray hair is already a sacred thing.

XII. THE CHRISTIAN GOES FORWARD

(Letter to Shch.....v)

My friend! consider yourself nothing more than a schoolboy and student. Do not think that you are already too old to learn, that your powers have reached real maturity and development, and that your character and soul have already received their real form and cannot be the best. There is no finished course for a Christian; he is an eternal student and a student to the grave. According to the ordinary, natural course, a person reaches the full development of his mind at thirty years of age. From thirty to forty his forces still somehow advance; Nothing progresses in him beyond this period, and everything he produces is not only no better than before, but even weaker and colder than before. But for a Christian this does not exist, and where for others the limit of perfection is, for him it is just beginning. The most capable and most gifted of people, having passed the age of forty, become dull, tired and weak. Go through all the philosophers and the first geniuses of the world: their best time was only during their full courage; then they gradually lost their minds, and in old age they even relapsed into infancy. Remember Kant, who last years He became completely unconscious and died like a child. But review the lives of all the saints: you will see that they grew stronger in mind and spiritual strength as they approached decrepitude and death. Even those of them who by nature did not receive any brilliant gifts and were considered simple and stupid all their lives, later amazed them with the intelligence of their speeches. Why is this? Because they always had that striving force that usually happens to every person only in the years of his youth, when he sees in front of him feats for which the reward is universal applause, when he imagines a rainbow-colored distance that has such an allure for the young man. The distance and exploits faded away before him - the striving power also faded away. But before a Christian the distance shines forever, and eternal deeds are seen. He, like a young man, hungers for the battle of life; he has something to fight with and where to struggle, because his view of himself, constantly enlightened, reveals to him new shortcomings in himself, with which he needs to carry out new battles. That is why all his forces not only cannot fall asleep or weaken within him, but are also constantly aroused; and the desire to be the best and to earn applause in heaven gives him such spurs as his most insatiable ambition cannot give to the most ambitious. This is the reason why a Christian goes forward when others go back, and why he becomes smarter the further he goes.

The mind is not our highest ability. His position is no more than that of a police officer: he can only put in order and put in its place everything that we already have. He himself will not move forward until all the other abilities that make him smarter move in us. Distracted readings, reflections and incessant listening to all courses of science will only make him go too far ahead; sometimes it even suppresses him, interfering with his original development. He is incomparably more dependent on states of mind: as soon as passion rages, he suddenly acts blindly and stupidly; if the soul is calm and no passion is boiling, he himself becomes clear and acts wisely. Reason is an incomparably higher ability, but it is acquired only by victory over passions. Only those people who did not neglect their inner education had it in themselves. But the mind doesn’t give full opportunity a person strives forward. There is still a higher ability; its name is wisdom, and Christ alone can give it to us. It is not given to any of us at birth, it is not natural to any of us, but is a matter of the highest grace of heaven. Anyone who already has both mind and understanding can receive wisdom in no other way than by praying for it day and night, asking God both day and night for it, raising his soul to the level of dove-like kindness and removing everything within himself to the greatest possible purity, so that to accept this heavenly guest who is afraid of dwellings where the spiritual economy has not been put in order and there is no complete agreement in everything. If she enters the house, then heavenly life begins for a person, and he comprehends all the wonderful sweetness of being a student. Everything becomes a teacher for him; the whole world is a teacher for him: the most insignificant of people can be a teacher for him. From the simplest advice he will extract the wisdom of advice; the stupidest subject will become its wise side to him, and the whole universe will become before him like one open book of learning: he will draw more treasures from it than anyone, because he will hear more than anyone that he is a student. .

But if he only imagines for a moment that his teaching is over, and he is no longer a student, and he is offended by anyone’s lesson or teaching, wisdom will suddenly be taken away from him, and he will remain in the dark, like King Solomon in his last days .

XV. SUBJECTS FOR THE LYRIC POET IN THE PRESENT TIME

(Two letters to N.M. I.....y)

Your poem “Earthquake” delighted me. Zhukovsky was also delighted with him. This, in his opinion, is the best not only of yours, but even of all Russian poems. To take an event from the past and bring it to the present - what a clever and rich idea! And the application to the poet, which concludes the ode, is such that each of us, whatever his field, should apply it to himself in this difficult time of the global earthquake, when everything is clouded with fear for the future. Friend! A life-giving spring opens before you. In your words to the poet:

And bring prayers to the trembling people from the heights above! -

the words are for yourself. The secret of your muse is revealed to you. The present time is precisely the field for the lyric poet. You can't gain anything by satire; A simple picture of reality, looked back through the eyes of a modern secular person, will not wake anyone up: the present century has fallen heroically into slumber. No, find in a past event something similar to the present one, make it appear brightly and strike it in the sight of everyone, just as it was struck by the wrath of God in its time; strike the present in the past, and your word will be clothed with double power: the past will come out alive through it and the present will scream with a cry. Open the book of the Old Testament: you will find each of the current events there, you will see as clearly as day in what way it transgressed before God, and the Last Judgment of God that took place over it is so clearly depicted that the present will awaken. You have the tools and means for this: in your verse there is power, both reproaching and uplifting. Both are exactly what is needed now. Some need to be raised, others need to be reproached: to raise those who are confused by the fears and outrages surrounding them; reproach those who, in holy moments of heavenly wrath and suffering everywhere, dare to indulge in a riot of all sorts of cavorting and shameful rejoicing. It is necessary that your poems become in the eyes of everyone like the letters written in the air that appeared at Belshazzar’s feast, from which everyone was horrified even before their very meaning could penetrate. And if you want to be even more understandable to everyone, then, having gained the biblical spirit, descend with it, like a torch, into the depths of Russian antiquity and in it strike the shame of the present time and at the same time deepen deeper into us that which will make the shame even more shameful our. Your verse will not be sluggish, do not be afraid; the old man will give you colors and just by himself will inspire you! She is alive and moving in our chronicles. The other day I came across a book: “Royal Exits.” It seemed that it could be more boring, but even here the words and names of royal decorations, expensive fabrics and stones are real treasures for the poet; every word fits into verse. You marvel at the preciousness of our language: every sound is a gift; everything is grainy, large, like the pearl itself, and, truly, another name is even more precious than the thing itself. Yes, if you only remove your verse with such words, you will completely take the reader into the past. After reading three pages from this book, I saw everywhere the king of ancient, former times, reverently walking to vespers in his ancient royal attire.

I am writing to you under the influence of the same poem of yours: “Earthquake.” For God's sake, don't abandon what you started! Re-read the Bible strictly, absorb Russian antiquity and, in their light, take a closer look at the present time. There are many, many objects ahead of you, and it would be a shame for you not to see them. It was not for nothing that Zhukovsky hitherto called your poetry delight, not directed anywhere. It’s a shame to waste lyrical power in the form of blank shots into the air, when it was given to you to blow up stones and move cliffs. Look around: everything is now an object for a lyric poet; every person demands a lyrical appeal to him; Everywhere you turn, you see that you need to either reproach or refresh someone.

First of all, reproach smart but despondent people with a strong lyrical reproach. You will get them through if you show them the matter in its present form, that is, that a person who has given himself over to despondency is rubbish in all respects, whatever the reasons for despondency, because despondency is cursed by God. You will lead a truly Russian man into battle even against despondency, you will raise him above fear and vibrations of the earth, as you raised the poet in his “Earthquake.”

Call, in the form of a lyrical strong appeal, to a beautiful but dormant person. Throw him a board from the shore and shout at the top of your voice to save your poor soul: he is already far from the shore, the insignificant top of the world is already carrying him and carrying him, carrying dinners, the feet of dancers, daily sleepy intoxication; He insensitively puts on flesh and has become all flesh, and there is almost no soul in him. Scream and show him the witch of old age, coming towards him, who is all made of iron, before whom iron is mercy, who does not give back a crumb of feeling back and forth. Oh, if you could tell him what my Plyushkin has to say if I get to the third volume." Dead souls»!

In an angry dithyramb, disgrace the newest covetous of these times and his damned luxury, and his vile wife, who destroyed both herself and her husband with dandy and rags, and the despicable threshold of their rich house, and the vile air that they breathe there, so that, like the plague, from They all ran away at a run and without looking back.

Exalt in a solemn hymn the unnoticed worker, who, to the honor of the high breed of Russian, are among the bravest bribe-takers who do not take even when everything around them takes. Exalt him, his family, and his noble wife, who would rather wear an old-fashioned cap and become the subject of others’ ridicule than allow her husband to commit injustice and meanness. Display their beautiful poverty so that, like a shrine, it shines before everyone’s eyes and each of them would want to be poor themselves.

Please with a hymn that giant who emerges only from the Russian land, who suddenly awakens from a shameful sleep, suddenly becomes different; spitting in front of everyone on his abomination and most vile vices, he becomes the first warrior of good. Show how this heroic deed is accomplished in a truly Russian soul; but show it in such a way that the Russian nature in everyone will involuntarily tremble and so that everyone, even in the rude and lower class, will cry out: “Eh, well done!” - feeling that such a thing was possible for him too.

There are many, many subjects for a lyric poet that cannot be contained in a book, not just in a letter. Every true Russian feeling is dying out, and there is no one to evoke it! Our prowess is dormant, our determination and courage to do our work is dormant, our strength and strength are dormant - our mind is dormant in the midst of the sluggish and feminine social life that was instilled in us, under the name of enlightenment, by empty and petty innovations. Shake the sleep from your eyes and strike the sleep of others. Kneel before God and ask Him for Wrath and Love! Anger - against what destroys a person, love - for the poor soul of a person, which is being destroyed from all sides and which he himself is destroying. You will find words, there will be expressions, lights, not words, will fly from you, as from the ancient prophets, if only, like them, you make this matter your dear and dear cause, if only, like them, sprinkle ashes on your head, unwind your vestments, and sob You will ask God for the strength to do this and you will love the salvation of your land as much as they loved the salvation of God’s chosen people.

XVII. EDUCATION

(Letter to V.A. Zh.......mu)

Once again I am writing to you from the road. Brother, thank you for everything! I will ask the Lord from the Sepulcher to help me give you at least part of the intelligent goodness that you endowed me with. Believe, and let not your heart be troubled! You will come to Moscow as if you were visiting your own family. It will appear to you as a welcome haven, and you will feel more at ease in it than here. Neither the empty noise of the bustle, nor the thunder of the carriage will disturb you: they will carefully drive around the street in which you will live. If someone comes to visit you, be it an old friend of yours or a hitherto unknown person, he will ask you in advance not to give him the visit, fearing that even a minute of your time will be wasted. We know how and even know how to honor someone who has done his entire job. Who so impeccably, so honestly used all his gifts, not allowing his abilities to slumber, not being lazy for a minute throughout his life, who preserved the freshness of his old age, as if youth, while everyone around him wasted it on empty temptations and when the young turned into frail old men, he has the right to reverent attention. As a patriarch you will be in Moscow, and young men will accept your old words from you as worth their weight in gold. Your “Odyssey” will bring a lot of good to everyone, I predict that. It will return to the freshness of modern man, tired of the disorder of life and thoughts; she will renew in his eyes a lot of what he has abandoned as dilapidated and unnecessary for everyday life; she will return him to simplicity. But no less good, if not more, will be brought by those labors that God Himself led you to and which you keep under wraps as long as you wisely do so. There will also be a general need for them. Don’t be embarrassed and look forward firmly! Let no discord in whatever you encounter frighten you. There is a reconciler of everything within our land itself, which is not yet visible to everyone - our Church. She is already preparing to suddenly assume her full rights and shine with light on the whole earth. It contains everything that is needed for a truly Russian life, in all its relations, from the state to the simple family, the mood for everything, the direction for everything, the right path for everything. For me, the idea of ​​introducing some kind of innovation into Russia, bypassing our Church, without asking her blessing for it, is crazy. It is absurd even to instill any European ideas into our thoughts until she christens them with the light of Christ. You will see how suddenly, and in your own eyes, this will be recognized by everyone in Russia, both believers and non-believers, how our Church will suddenly emerge as recognized by everyone. It was the will of Providence that incomprehensible blindness would fall on the eyes of many. When I closely examine the thread of events in the world, I see all the wisdom of God, which allowed the temporary division of the Churches, commanded one to stand motionless and, as it were, away from people, and the other to worry along with people; one - not to accept any innovations, except those that were introduced by the holy people of the best times of Christianity and the original fathers of the Church, the other - changing and applying to all the circumstances of the time, the spirit and habits of people, to introduce all innovations made even by vicious unholy bishops; one - for a time, as it were, to die for the world, the other - for a time, as it were, to take possession of the whole world; one - like the modest Mary, having put aside all worries about earthly things, to sit at the feet of the Lord Himself, in order to better listen to His words before applying and passing them on to people, the other - like the caring housewife Martha, hospitably fuss around people, passing on more to them. the words of the Lord not weighed by all reason. The good part was chosen first, because it listened to the words of the Lord for so long, enduring the reproaches of its short-sighted sister, who already dared to call her a dead corpse and even lost and apostate from the Lord. It is not easy to apply the Word of Christ to people, and she should first have been deeply imbued with it herself. But in our Church everything that is needed for the now awakening society has been preserved. It was the helm and helm of the coming new order of things, and the more I enter into it with my heart, mind and thoughts, the more I am amazed at the wonderful possibility of reconciling those contradictions that the Western Church is now unable to reconcile. The Western Church was still sufficient for the former simple order, it could still somehow govern the world and reconcile it with Christ in the name of the one-sided and incomplete development of humanity. Now, when humanity has begun to reach its fullest development in all its powers, in all its properties, both good and bad, it only pushes it away from Christ: the more it bothers about reconciliation, the more it brings discord, being unable to illuminate with a narrow light every present object from all its sides. Everyone admits that by this very introduction of many human decrees, made by bishops who have not yet reached the holiness of their lives to the full and multifaceted Christian wisdom, she has narrowed her view of life and the world and cannot embrace them. A complete and comprehensive view of life remained in its Eastern half, apparently saved for the later and complete education of man. It contains space not only for the soul and heart of a person, but also for the mind, in all its supreme powers; in it is the road and the path, how to direct everything in a person into one consonant hymn to the Supreme Being. Friend, don't be embarrassed by anything! If the current circumstances were sevenfold more complicated, our Church would reconcile and unravel everything. By some unknown instinct, even our secular people, jostling among us, begin to hear that there is some treasure from which salvation is among us and which we do not see. The treasure will shine, and its shine will shine on everything. And the time is near. We now repeat the word “enlightenment” even more meaninglessly. They didn’t even think about where this word came from and what it means. This word is not in any language, it is only in ours. To enlighten does not mean to teach, or instruct, or educate, or even illuminate, but to completely illuminate a person in all his powers, and not in just his mind, to carry his entire nature through some kind of purifying fire. This word is taken from our Church, which has been pronouncing it for almost a thousand years, despite all the darkness and ignorant darkness that has surrounded it everywhere, and knows why it is saying it. It is not for nothing that the bishop, in his solemn service, raising in both hands both the three-candle, signifying the Trinity of God, and the two-candle, signifying His Word descending to earth in His dual nature, both Divine and human, illuminates everyone with them, saying: “The Light of Christ illuminates everyone! » It is not for nothing that in another place of the service the words thunder fragmentarily, as if from Heaven, out loud to everyone: “The light of enlightenment!” - and nothing more is added to them.

XIX. YOU NEED TO LOVE RUSSIA
(From a letter to gr. A.P.T.....mu)

Without love for God, no one can be saved, but you do not have love for God. You won’t find it in the monastery; Only those who have already been called there by God Himself go to the monastery. Without the will of God it is impossible to love Him. And how can one love Him Whom no one has seen? With what prayers and efforts can I beg this love from Him? Look how many kind and wonderful people there are now in the world who eagerly strive for this love and hear only callousness and cold emptiness in their souls. It's hard to love someone whom no one has seen. Christ alone brought and told us the secret that in love for our brothers we receive love for God. One has only to love them as Christ commanded, and in the end love for God Himself will come naturally. Go into the world and first acquire love for your brothers.

But how to love brothers, how to love people? The soul wants to love only the beautiful, but poor people are so imperfect and have so little beauty in them! How to do this? Thank God first of all for the fact that you are Russian. For the Russian this path is now opening, and this path is Russia itself. If only a Russian loves Russia, he will love everything that is in Russia. God Himself is now leading us to this love. Without the illnesses and suffering that had accumulated in such abundance inside her and which were our own fault, none of us would have felt compassion for her. And compassion is already the beginning of love. Already the cries against outrages, lies and bribes are not just the indignation of the noble against the dishonest, but the cry of the whole earth, which heard that foreign enemies had invaded in countless numbers, scattered to their homes and imposed a heavy yoke on every person; Even those who voluntarily accepted these terrible spiritual enemies into their homes want to free themselves from them, and do not know how to do this, and everything merges into one stunning cry, even the insensitive ones are already moving forward. But direct love has not yet been heard in anyone, and you don’t have it either. You don’t yet love Russia: you only know how to be sad and irritated by rumors about everything bad that happens in it, all this produces in you only callous annoyance and despondency. No, this is not love yet, you are far from love, this is perhaps just one too distant harbinger of it. No, if you really love Russia, then by itself that short-sighted thought that has now arisen in many honest and even very intelligent people will disappear in you, that is, that at the present time they can no longer do anything for Russia and that they are already not needed at all; on the contrary, only then will you feel with all your strength that love is omnipotent and that you can do anything with it. No, if you really love Russia, you will be eager to serve her; You will not go to governor, but to police captain; you will take the last place that you find in it, preferring one grain of activity on it to your entire present, inactive and idle life. No, you don't love Russia yet. And if you don’t love Russia, you won’t love your brothers, and if you don’t love your brothers, you won’t be kindled with love for God, and if you don’t kindle with love for God, you won’t be saved.

XXIX. WHOSE PLACE ON EARTH IS HIGHER
(From a letter to U.........mu)

I just can’t tell you whose lot on earth is higher and who is destined for a better fate. Before, when I was stupider, I preferred one title to another, but now I see that the fate of everyone is equally enviable. Everyone will receive an equal reward - both the one who was entrusted with one talent and brought another, and the one who was given five talents and who brought another five for them. Even, I think, the fate of the former is even better, precisely because he did not enjoy fame on earth and did not taste the charming drink of earthly glory, like the latter. Wonderful is the mercy of God, which determines equal reward for everyone who honestly fulfills his duty, whether he is a king or the last beggar. They will all be equal there, because they will all enter into the joy of their Master and will abide equally in God. Of course, Christ Himself said in another place: “In My Father’s house are many mansions”; but as I think about these abodes, as I think about the fact that God should have abodes, I cannot restrain myself from tears and I know that I would never have decided which one to choose for myself, if only I had really been awarded the Kingdom of Heaven and was asked: “Which one do you want?” I only know that I would say: “The last one, Lord, but if only it was in Your house!” It seems that I would like nothing more than to serve those chosen ones who have already been worthy to contemplate His glory in all its greatness. If only I could lie at their feet and kiss their holy feet!

In “Selected Passages from Correspondence with Friends,” Gogol hurried “before his death” to finish speaking what he could not pronounce through fiction by continuing “Dead Souls.” He published some of his intimate letters to his closest friends and acquaintances, and as a result, the result was a strange book in which Gogol hurriedly, confusedly, in places with ardent enthusiasm, in others with elevated pathos, talks about the questions that tormented him before his death. This book is passionate, but true. And it was impossible to come up with a harder insult to a dying man than to say that he “lied” in his book. However, this is exactly what they told Gogol. In his “Author's Confession” he says the following about this: “... to call him a liar and a deceiver who has put on the guise of piety, to attribute vile and base goals - these are the kind of accusations that I would not be able to level even on a notorious scoundrel. .. It would not hurt to think before pronouncing such an accusation: “Am I myself mistaken? After all, I am also a person. This is a spiritual matter. The human soul is a storehouse, not accessible to everyone, and one cannot rely on the visible proximity of certain signs...” No, in the book "Correspondence with Friends", no matter how many shortcomings in all respects, there is also a lot in it that may not soon be accessible to everyone... In order to feel this book at all, you need to have or a very simple and kind soul, or to be too many-sided a person who, with a mind that embraces on all sides, would contain a high poetic talent and a soul that knows how to love with full and deep love.”

Gogol was right when he said that his thoughts would not die; much of what he expressed in “Selected Places” was later developed by Leo Tolstoy.

N.V. Gogol. Portrait by F. Muller, 1841

Gogol's idealization of patriarchal-conservative statehood

The content of “Selected Places” is too varied and varied in character for it to be possible to harmoniously and completely present Gogol’s “philosophy” through their analysis. You have to be content with only the main thing. Firstly, in this work there is a lot that is purely autobiographical: fear of death, ardent, fanatical love for God, worries about the structure of one’s “mental matter”, self-flagellation, various confessions regarding one’s writings. All this does not matter public importance. Such significance remains only with Gogol’s thoughts about the state, society, the Russian people and the Russian intelligentsia, about the meaning of literature, its content and goals. Gogol, who in his youth idealized the bureaucratic system of Russian life, in the end, was completely disillusioned with it. Both in “Dead Souls” and in “Correspondence with Friends” we will find his sharp attacks on the system of governing the country with the help of “papers from St. Petersburg”, with the help of commissions and the hierarchy of officials. Instead of this system, Gogol dreamed of some kind of “patriarchal structure” of the state: at its head is a sovereign who treats his subjects cordially, like a “father,” with faith and love. The same sovereigns “in miniature” were to be “governors general” and “governors”; People in this Gogolian state had to treat each other humanely, simply, without veneration. The direct path to this ideal is “purification of one’s own soul and heart.” It is not reforms in the Western spirit that the fatherland needs, says Gogol, but the moral revival of each individual person. He treated enlightenment in the Western spirit in the same way as L. Tolstoy. Life ideal state will flow quickly and correctly when everyone determines their “duty” and, content with a small lot, honestly bears it in life. Let the peasant plow the land, let the landowner treat him patriarchally, protect him, instruct, praise, punish, judge, and let the official do his job honestly, let the merchant work honestly - and then everything will prosper without reforms.

The role of nobles according to Gogol

Gogol paid special attention to the noble landowner in “Selected Places.” A nobleman, in his opinion, is a small sovereign on his estate: he is responsible before God for his serfs, which is why the writer calls the work in the village of a reasonable, virtuous landowner “holy.” What the peasants need, Gogol writes, is not the liberation of the peasants, not schools or books, but reasonable leadership and religious education. The work of a tiller and a noble landowner who lives inseparably in the countryside is the basis for the prosperity of the fatherland.

This attraction to the “land”, the deification of labor, especially physical (Gogol even recommends that the landowner mow along with the peasants) again brings him closer to L. Tolstoy.

Gogol about new trends in Russian society

Gogol is dissatisfied with Russian society in his “Correspondence”: he more than once talks about some kind of anxiety that is growing in the Russian intelligentsia, about confusion, the emptiness of Russian thought, about the search for something. Gogol was right in noting the transitional nature of Russian social consciousness, but he did not guess the proximity of the reforms of the 1860s and the reorganization of all Russian life on new liberal principles. In his book, he follows the desire that has been noticed in many Russian people since the time of Ivan the Terrible: they dreamed of correcting Russian life by restoring the “shaken antiquity.” Gogol’s “Selected Places” is somewhat reminiscent of “Domostroy”, with its patriarchal views on life.

But Gogol looked at the “woman” in a completely different way. He idolizes her, gives her first place in history human life, social and family. Echoes of youthful romanticism led Gogol to such admiration.

Gogol on the meaning of church poetry

From a historical and literary point of view, those parts of Gogol’s “Correspondence” where he talks about Russian poetry are interesting. Gogol notes the organic connection between Russian lyric poetry and ancient Russian church poetry. He points out that Russian poets even of the 18th century drew both images and moods from Holy Scripture. Lomonosov, Derzhavin, Pushkin, Yazykov give him especially many reasons for this assertion. The praise of Russia, the Russian Tsar in our poetry is an echo of that semi-religious pathos with which kings and the homeland are spoken of only in the Old Testament. And Gogol recommends the Old Testament to the lyrical poet of his time, saying that there is a source of eternal and sublime, divine poetry. Of the Christian churches, he gives preference to the Orthodox: it has more concerns about heavenly things, it has more humility, more love for people, more humanity. “The Holy Fathers” and “Chrysostom” are the best books for the people, says Gogol. In these words, the old, pre-Petrine Rus' is again resurrected before us, when these books were the reference books of the Russian literate.

“Selected Places” about relations between Europe and Russia

Gogol more than once raises the question of relations between Europe and Russia in “Selected Places”: he is critical, even humorous, of “leavened patriots”, of Slavophiles, but also criticizes “Westerners”. He treats the “West” with complete distrust. It seems to him that western culture is drying up, and that soon people abroad will turn to Russia “for wisdom.” “All European states,” he says, “are now suffering from the extraordinary complexity of all sorts of laws and regulations,” religious ideals are forgotten there, and no one is concerned with “mental matters.” This is not what Gogol saw in Russia, at least in the circle in which he moved: obviously, in fact, all these governors, landowners, “ significant persons“, the poets to whom he wrote his letters thought more about their soul, about “their internal structure” than about the earth. And this consoled Gogol. He says that Russian society of his time, “everyone is looking for something, no longer looking outside, but inside himself. Moral questions took precedence over political and scientific ones.” Gogol knew little about the other moods of Russian society, and it was the adherents of these other views who considered his book incomprehensible, stupid and harmful.

The variety of style of Gogol's "Correspondence"

Gogol wrote his letters to different people: smart and stupid, enthusiastic and calm. He himself says that he wrote in such a way that everyone could understand him, which is why there is a lot of variety in his letters. He wrote a rude letter to the rude and narrow-minded landowner, speaking in a style that was understandable to him. This letter particularly outraged Belinsky. Gogol advises the landowner to instill among the peasants respect for honest and good workers; In front of the exemplary “man,” ordinary people had to take off their hats. To address the one who will not rent, Gogol recommended that the landowner use a “strong word”: “Oh, you unwashed snout! He himself is completely covered in soot, so that he can’t even see his eyes, and he doesn’t even want to show honor to an honest man! Bow down at his feet!” This “unwashed snout” is only a “peasant style,” with which, obviously, Gogol only wanted to indicate the peasant’s lack of education. “Don’t hit a man,” he says in the same letter. – Punching him in the face is not a great art. But know how to understand it well with words.” This is “to go to hell” - the landowner’s jargon, which Gogol imitates, trying to make himself clear to his rustic and rude correspondent.

Much of what Gogol pointed out in Russian life is both smart and true; his own views often sublime and pure, but when he turned to practical ground, his advice was often naive... So, in the same letter to the landowner, he recommends that the landowner, in order to raise the authority of the village priest in the village, take this priest with him everywhere to work and every day to seat him at the master's table. Gogol did not want to look humanly into the soul of this unfortunate priest, who does not even have the right to dine with his family! Advice to the same landowner to burn several banknotes in front of the peasants to prove that he, the landowner, is not self-interested is naive!

The attitude of Russian society towards “Selected Places”

When “Selected Passages from Correspondence with Friends” became available to the public, they did not arouse sympathy in almost anyone except Gogol’s intimate friends. People of a liberal bent, recent admirers of Gogol, were especially outraged. They saw in this book a betrayal of his former beliefs, lies and meanness. This attitude was expressed most energetically in Belinsky’s letter to Gogol. Belinsky himself, a fanatic by temperament, sick and exhausted by the struggle of life, said a lot of evil and unfair things to Gogol, who already had one foot in the grave. This clash between two contemporaries affected the entire Russian society, with different poles of its then worldview.

Belinsky wrote to Gogol that he had previously “loved him with all passion,” seeing in him the hope, honor, and glory of the Russian land, “one of its great leaders on the path of consciousness, development, and progress.” Now what is left of this passion is “contempt and hatred”, just as passionate... He called “Selected Places” “a cunning, but too unceremonious trick to achieve a purely earthly goal by heavenly means.” He indignantly settled on the expression: “Oh, you unwashed snout!”... Without delving into the true meaning of this rudeness, he called Gogol a preacher of the whip, an apostle of ignorance, a champion of obscurantism and obscurantism. “It is not the truth of Christian teaching,” says Belinsky, “but a painful fear of death, the devil and hell that emanates from your book.” The critic sarcastically ridiculed the style of the book and did not hesitate to refer to rumors that Gogol’s book was written in order to become the crown prince’s mentor.

"The Author's Confession" by Gogol

In response to this cruel and undeserved “criticism” and other similar ones, Gogol wrote his “Author's Confession”. This work, clear in thought and calm in presentation, is permeated with deep sorrow and melancholy. Gogol died, misunderstood by his contemporaries and having lost hope that they would understand him, that they would forgive him for his mistakes and thank him for that passionate desire to benefit his homeland, which guided him in life and which he transferred to his writings. In the touching “Author's Confession,” he asks future generations for justice and mercy.

In the minds of most of his contemporaries, Gogol was a classic figure of a satirical writer - an exposer of human and social vices, a brilliant humorist, and finally, simply a comic writer who entertained and amused the public. He himself was bitterly aware of this and wrote in “The Author's Confession” (1847) : “I didn’t know then that my name was being used only to reproach each other and laugh at each other.”

Contemporaries never recognized another Gogol - an ascetic writer, a successor of the patristic tradition in Russian literature, a religious thinker and publicist, and an author of prayers. With the exception of “Selected Passages from Correspondence with Friends,” published with significant censorship exceptions and misperceived by most readers, Gogol’s spiritual prose remained unpublished during his lifetime. True, subsequent generations were already able to get acquainted with it, and by the beginning of the 20th century, Gogol’s literary appearance was to some extent restored. But here another extreme arose, religious-mystical, “neo-Christian” criticism of the turn of the century and most of all famous book D. S. Merezhkovsky “Gogol. Creativity, Life and Religion” built Gogol’s spiritual path according to their own standards, portraying him as an almost morbid fanatic, a mystic with a medieval consciousness, a lonely fighter against evil spirits, and most importantly, completely divorced from Orthodox Church and even opposed to it, which is why the image of the writer appeared in a bright, but completely distorted form.

The reader - our contemporary - in his ideas about Gogol is thrown back a century and a half: he again knows only Gogol the satirist, the author of "The Inspector General", "Dead Souls" and the "tendentious" book "Selected Passages from Correspondence with Friends." Gogol's spiritual prose practically does not exist for our contemporaries; in part, they are in an even sadder position than the writer’s contemporaries: they could judge him on their own, and the current public opinion about Gogol is imposed - by numerous articles, scientific monographs and teaching in schools and universities. Meanwhile, it is impossible to understand and appreciate Gogol’s work as a whole outside of spiritual categories.

Gogol's genius still remains completely unknown not only to the general reader, but also to literary criticism, which in its current form is simply unable to comprehend the fate of the writer and his mature prose. This can only be done by a deep connoisseur of both Gogol’s work and patristic literature - and certainly one who is in the bosom of the Orthodox Church, living the church life. We dare to say that we do not yet have such a researcher. We do not undertake this task either: this article is only an attempt to outline the milestones of Gogol’s spiritual path.

In Gogol's letters from the early forties one can find hints of an event that, as he later said, “made a significant revolution in the work of creativity” for him. In the summer of 1840, he experienced an illness, but rather not a physical one, but a mental one. Experiencing severe attacks of “nervous disorder” and “painful melancholy” and not hoping for recovery, he even wrote a spiritual will. According to S.T. Aksakov, Gogol had “visions” about which he told N.P., who was caring for him at that time. Botkin (brother of the critic V.P. Botkin). Then came the “resurrection”, “miraculous healing”, and Gogol believed that his life was “necessary and would not be useless.” A new path opened up for him. “From here,” writes S.T. Aksakov, “begins Gogol’s constant desire to improve the spiritual person in himself and the predominance of the religious direction, which subsequently reached, in my opinion, such a high mood that is no longer compatible with the physical shell of a person.”

P.V. also testifies to the turning point in Gogol’s views. Annenkov, who states in his memoirs: “He who confuses Gogol will make a great mistake.” last period with the one who was then beginning his life in St. Petersburg, and will decide to apply to the young Gogol moral traits developed much later, already when an important revolution took place in his existence.” Annenkov dates the beginning of Gogol’s “last period” to the time when they lived together in Rome: “In the summer of 1841, when I met Gogol, he stood at the turn of a new direction, belonging to two different worlds.”

Annenkov’s judgment about the sharpness of the change that took place is hardly fair: in the 1840s, Gogol’s spiritual aspiration only became clearer and acquired specific life forms. Gogol himself always emphasized the integrity and immutability of his path and inner world. In “The Author's Confession,” he wrote, responding to the reproaches of critics who claimed that in “Selected Places...” he betrayed his purpose and invaded boundaries alien to him: “I did not stray from my path. I walked the same road"<…>- and I came to the One who is the source of life.” In the article “A few words about the biography of Gogol,” S.T. Aksakov authoritatively testifies: “Let them not think that Gogol changed his beliefs; on the contrary, with teenage years he remained faithful to them. But Gogol constantly moved forward; his Christianity became purer, stricter; the high significance of the writer’s goal is clearer and the judgment on himself is more severe.”

Gogol gradually develops ascetic aspirations and the Christian ideal emerges more and more clearly. Back in April 1840, he wrote to N.D. Belozersky: “Now I am more suited for a monastery than for a secular life.” And in February 1842 he confessed to N.M. Yazykov: “I need solitude, decisive solitude<…>I was not born for worries and I feel every day and hour that there is no higher destiny in the world than the title of monk.” However, Gogol's monastic ideal has a special appearance. It's about about the purification of not only the soul, but also artistic talent along with it. At the beginning of 1842, he planned a trip to Jerusalem and received the blessing for this of His Eminence Innokenty (Borisov), a famous preacher and spiritual writer, at that time the Bishop of Kharkov. S. T. Aksakov talks about it this way: “Suddenly Gogol enters with the image of the Savior in his hands and a radiant, enlightened face. I have never seen such an expression in his eyes. Gogol said: “I kept waiting for someone to bless me with an image, and no one did it; Finally, Innocent blessed me. Now I can announce where I am going: to the Holy Sepulcher.” Gogol never parted with this image, and after his death it was kept by Anna Vasilyevna Gogol, the writer’s sister.

When Aksakov’s wife, Olga Semyonovna, said that she now expected him to describe Palestine, Gogol replied: “Yes, I will describe it to you, but for that I need to cleanse myself and be worthy.” He now cannot imagine continuing his literary work without first renewing his soul: “My soul must be purer than the snow of the mountains and brighter than the skies, and only then will I gain the strength to begin exploits and great endeavors, then only will the mystery of my existence be resolved” (from a letter to V. A. Zhukovsky, June 1842).

An indirect reflection of Gogol’s spiritual life of this time can be found in the second edition of the story “Portrait”. The artist who created the portrait of the moneylender decides to leave the world and becomes a monk. Having purified himself by the ascetic life of a hermit, he returns to creativity and paints a picture that amazes viewers with the holiness of what is depicted. At the end of the story, the monk-artist instructs his son: “Save the purity of your soul. He who has talent within himself must have the purest soul of all. Much will be forgiven to another, but it will not be forgiven to him.”

The second edition of “Portrait,” which appeared in 1842, shortly before the release of “Dead Souls,” remained unnoticed by critics, except for Belinsky’s disapproving review. But Shevyrev, who read Gogol’s reworked “Portrait,” wrote to him in March 1843: “You revealed in it the connection between art and religion in a way that it has not been revealed anywhere else.”

Gogol Stepanov Nikolay Leonidovich

“SELECTED PLACES FROM CORRESPONDENCE WITH FRIENDS”

“And I hated life: because the works that were done under the sun became disgusting to me; for all is vanity and vexation of spirit! And I hated all my labor with which I labored under the sun; because I must leave it to the person who will come after me. And who knows: will he be wise or foolish? Gogol slowly closed the small black velvet-bound Bible that Smirnova had given him. The hotel was in twilight, with muted rays of light escaping from behind the closed curtains. The large dining room was deserted. At this early hour, tourists scattered around the outskirts of Bamberg.

Gogol went to the fireplace. Long-extinguished ash was black in it. Wrapping himself more tightly in his overcoat, Gogol began to quickly walk around the room, rubbing his frozen hands. “God was pleased to send me mental and physical suffering,” he thought painfully, “all sorts of bitter and difficult moments, all sorts of misunderstandings of those people whom my soul loved, and all so that the difficult task that without that would not be resolved forever.” “All is vanity and vexation of spirit!” So he published the first volume of his poem, but it only brought harm. Many believe that in his creation he ridiculed the untruths and abuses that reign in Russia. But it is not enough to ridicule: we must show people the path of revival. Now he himself has suffered this path. We need to teach others to follow this path, the path of a Christian, and provide them with spiritual help.

Gogol thought painfully. No, it’s not a poem that’s needed now. It is necessary to leave behind everything that has developed in his soul and mind over these last years. “Who knows who will come after me? Stupid or smart?

He went to the desk, took out a sheet of paper from the box that he always carried with him, and wrote a letter to Yazykov. He asked him to save the letters that he had sent him over the past years. We need to inform Alexandra Osipovna, Zhukovsky, Pletnev, and Tolstoy about this. “As I considered everything that I wrote to various people lately,” he concluded his letter, “especially those who were in need and demanded spiritual help from me, I see that a book could be made from this, useful to people, suffering in different fields. The suffering that I myself suffered came to my advantage, and with its help I was able to help others!”

He sealed the letter and carefully wiped the pen. Yes, it will be a book of instructions, Christian wisdom, which is much more necessary than his poem. It will help people find solace in their suffering and sorrows, and will help them understand the confusion that is now happening in Russia and Europe. He was overcome with chills again.

Having closed the box, Gogol went out into the street. The summer sun warmed him with hot rays. He quickly walked along the road that led up the mountain to the cathedral.

We came across tourists in Tyrolean hats and short leather pants worn to a shine. A prim Englishwoman walked by in a gray jacket with large puffs, straw-yellow hair covering her colorless face. Suddenly, among the people they met, a familiar figure of a stout, middle-aged man with a puffy face and a short mustache drooping down appeared. This is Jules, an old friend who helped him in Rome while working on the poem!

Pavel Vasilyevich, in turn, was delighted and surprised. After all, according to his ideas, Gogol, whom he recently saw in Paris, should have already been in Ostend for sea bathing? And here Gogol himself is in the small Austrian town of Bamberg! However, how he has aged and changed in recent years! He acquired a special kind of beauty, which cannot be defined otherwise than by calling it the beauty of a thinking person. His face turned pale and haggard, the languid work of thought left the mark of exhaustion and fatigue on it, but it became somehow brighter and calmer than before. It was the face of a philosopher. It was set off by long, thick, almost shoulder-length hair, in the frame of which eyes sparkled, full of fire and expression!

After the first words of greeting, Gogol informed Annenkov that he was indeed going to Ostend, but only took the road through Austria and the Danube, since the long journey helps him and restores his weak strength. Now he stopped briefly in Bamberg to look at the famous 12th century cathedral. And from here it goes to Schwalbach, and then to Ostend.

What are you doing now? - Gogol asked abruptly.

“I travel around Europe out of simple curiosity,” Annenkov laughed.

This is a good trait... but still it’s a worry... you have to stop someday! - Gogol spoke as if it was difficult for him to collect thoughts that were hovering somewhere far away.

They went together to explore the cathedral, wandering for two hours between the heavy, massive columns of the main building. In the intricate bas-reliefs, in which mystical allegories of Christian symbolism were amusingly mixed with everyday scenes from folk life, in the harsh stone bell towers one could see the originality and complexity of the old masters' plans.

“I prefer Romanesque cathedrals to Gothic ones,” Annenkov noted, “they are more diverse and more majestic in architecture.

You, Pavel Vasilyevich, may not know that I myself am an expert in architecture,” Gogol answered seriously. - Gothic architecture there is a phenomenon that has never before been produced by the taste and imagination of man. It is vast and sublime, like Christianity! Everything in it is united together: greatness and beauty, luxury and simplicity, heaviness and lightness. These are advantages that no other architecture can accommodate. But this architecture disappeared as soon as human thought was fragmented.

From a dispute about architecture, the conversation turned to the current situation in Europe.

“Now,” Gogol continued, “we have begun to fear the European troubles, the proletariat... They are thinking about how to turn the peasants into German farmers... Why is this?.. Is it possible to separate the peasant from the land?.. What kind of proletariat is this?.. You, after all, think that our man is crying with joy when he sees his land... Does this mean anything? This is something we need to think about.

Annenkov tried to object, pointing out that the current political unrest in Europe is the result of the cruelty of reactionary regimes, and that in Russia the oppression of peasants by landowners can also lead to unrest and embitterment.

Gogol listened to him displeasedly and answered irritably:

In Europe, such turmoil is now brewing everywhere that no human remedy will help when it opens. Before them the fears that you now see in Russia will be an insignificant thing. The light is still dawning in Russia, there are still ways and roads to salvation...

But from the ashes of the old European civilization a new, fair order of things will arise. “Europe will show the way for Russia too,” Annenkov objected, wiping his neck, which had sweated in the argument, with a handkerchief.

“You are mistaken,” Gogol stated dryly. - Ten years will pass, and you will see that Europe will come to us not to buy hemp and lard, but to buy wisdom, which is no longer sold in European markets.

But Russia is a backward country,” Annenkov tried to argue. - Serfdom and the remnants of feudalism drown out the development of the economy and new forms of statehood.

You don’t love Russia, you only know how to be sad and irritated by rumors about everything bad that happens in it... - Gogol shook his head reproachfully. - Not a grain of what is truly Russian in it and what is sanctified by Christ himself will die from our antiquity. We do not have the irreconcilable hatred of class against class and those embittered parties that are found in Europe. Now many people are seriously thinking about the ancient patriarchal way of life. We should only persuade the government and the nobles to take a closer look at the truly Russian relations of the landowner to the peasants...

Gogol said all this like long-memorized phrases, without allowing any objections. It was some kind of bossy, pastoral reprimand. The writer's thin pale hands twitched convulsively, his eyes sparkled with some kind of painful, fanatical fire. Instead of the good-natured, mocking Gogol, who loved jokes and sharp, funny words, Annenkov faced a completely different person, some kind of preacher in the pulpit or a fanatical monk, with whom it was impossible to enter into any argument.

Taking on a mysterious appearance, Gogol informed Annenkov that he had conceived one very important matter - the publication of his letters to friends, which should open everyone's eyes to the true state of affairs. He is going to send Pletnev from Schwalbach the first notebook of these letters so that he can prepare their publication. Having completed this matter, he will finally be able to carry out his long-planned trip to Jerusalem, and from there return to Russia.

Gogol walked thoughtfully along the pavement as they returned to the hotel. In a black overcoat, with his eyes lowered to the ground, he was completely absorbed in his thoughts and hardly understood what Annenkov was telling him. Finally we arrived at the hotel. The stagecoach had already arrived and the horses were being harnessed to it.

Are you left without lunch? - Annenkov asked.

Yes, by the way, it’s good that you reminded me! - Gogol woke up. - Is there a pastry shop or a cake shop here?

The confectionery shop was nearby. Gogol carefully selected a dozen sweet pies with apples, ordered them to be wrapped in paper and, having grabbed his property at the hotel, headed to the stagecoach.

The friends stood for a little longer until the conductor's trumpet sounded, signaling the imminent departure. Gogol sat down in the compartment, placing himself somehow sideways to his neighbor, a corpulent elderly German, and raised the collar of his greatcoat, assuming an expression of cold, stony dispassion. The carriage started moving.

Arriving in Schwalbach, Gogol sat down to copy the drafts and, having prepared a voluminous notebook, sent it to Pletnev. In a letter to him, he said: “Finally, my request! You must fulfill it, just as a most trusted friend fulfills the request of his friend. Put all your business aside and start printing this book entitled: “Selected passages from correspondence with friends.” It is needed, everyone needs it - that’s what I can tell you for now; everything else will be explained to you by the book itself...”

He finished writing late in the evening. Dusk was gathering all around. It was quiet in the unfamiliar German city. At the town hall the large ringing bells were ringing sadly. antique clock. He couldn't sleep until the morning.

PROBLEMS OF STUDY CHOSEN BY ME PERSONALLY I will also try to explain in order the most important areas of work that I myself undertook in connection with the new circumstances that arose after I began to fulfill my tasks in China.A. Economic