January 14, 1880. Monday
At the sixth hour of the evening
In the morning, scarcely had Father Isaiah arrived to offer congratulations on the conferment of the Third Class of the Order of St. Vladimir, when Yefimy Vasilyevich Putyatin arrived, having returned three days prior from the funeral of the countess.*
*Orlova-Davydova (see Name Index).
Father Isaiah departed, and the count began to entreat me to visit in the evening and remain overnight, so that we might speak with Yevgeny regarding his marriage. Yefimy Vasilyevich wishes to wed him to the younger Vasilychikova daughter, but Yevgeny refuses, desiring instead a bride experienced in the affairs of life—the Vasilychikova girl being but a child. Both are obstinate: the father refuses to speak further with his son regarding marriage, having been wounded by his letter. The position of mediator is difficult; I must, in some manner, pacify the count and implore him not to press too hastily for a decision upon Yevgeny’s fate, all the more so as forty days have not yet passed since his mother’s death.
While the count was still seated, Pavel Parfenovich Zarkevich arrived. The conversation turned to matters concerning Jerusalem, and the count grew heated in speech. It seems the Ministry of Foreign Affairs may do as it pleases—that is, dissolve the Ecclesiastical Mission—thus bringing an end to Orthodoxy among the Arabs, as the cunning Catholics and Protestants would surely seize everything for themselves. God forbid!*
*The mission continued after this incident, and still exists to this day.
Upon Zarkevich’s departure, Yulia Georgievna Emmanuel arrived—a type peculiar to that class of women who entwine themselves about the clergy of the highest rank. On her breast, a large black cross and a golden heart, within which were excerpts from letters of Metropolitan Isidore, Yevsevy of Mogilev, and others.
And within her breast, seemingly, a heart inclined toward piety, yet within her head, very little mind—as I reflected while she prattled at length about her lineage and kindred, detailing with meticulous precision the web of familial ties, all concerning persons I had never seen and never would see, just as I had never before set eyes on her, save for when she thrust her acquaintance upon me at the cathedral.
Indeed, the tongues of women move tenfold faster than those of men; she chattered ceaselessly, breathlessly, while I, paying no heed, mused upon how such personalities come to be. Surely, it must be from idleness and lack of occupation. Doubtless, they must weary the bishops; indeed, this one had come to me directly from His Eminence, bearing a small picture and an icon as a blessing for some relative of hers—whether it was his birthday or the anniversary of his death, I no longer recall.
And His Eminence, too, must squander time in listening to the breathless outpourings of such persons.
The only matter of interest was the miniature portrait of her father, General Emmanuel, encased within her bracelet—the very general to whom, once upon a time, the keys of Reims had been presented.
While she was still seated, Father Sergius arrived, a hieromonk from the episcopal household of His Most Reverend Yevsevy of Mogilev, who had charged him with inquiring about me. I must make a journey to Mogilev to receive the blessing of that venerable hierarch, who, twenty years past in Irkutsk, had bestowed his benediction upon me and given me fatherly counsel for my journey and for life.
Translation Notes & Uncertainties:
"В 6 часу вечера" → Translated as "At the sixth hour of the evening" rather than simply "At 6 PM" to maintain the elevated tone consistent with the previous entry.
"Владимиром третьей степени" → Rendered as "the Third Class of the Order of St. Vladimir" based on the historical Russian imperial awards system. The original phrase was ambiguous but likely referred to this specific order.
"третьего дня вернувшийся с похорон графини" → Translated as "having returned three days prior from the funeral of the countess". The phrase "третьего дня" is an older Russian expression meaning "three days ago."
"Опытной в житейских делах невесты" → Translated as "a bride experienced in the affairs of life." The phrase could also be rendered as "worldly-wise" or "practiced in the ways of the world," but I opted for a more formal expression.
"Васильчикова же совсем ребенок" → Translated as "the Vasilychikova girl being but a child" for stylistic coherence.
"Не хочет больше говорить с сыном касательно женитьбы, будучи оскорблен его письмом" → Translated as "The father refuses to speak further with his son regarding marriage, having been wounded by his letter." The phrase "оскорблен его письмом" could imply offense, indignation, or deep hurt, and "wounded" captures both the emotional depth and formality.
"Чуть ли не сделает Министерство иностранных дел по-своему" → Translated as "It seems the Ministry of Foreign Affairs may do as it pleases" to capture the uncertain, speculative nature of the original phrase.
"Все перетащут себе хитрые католики и протестанты" → Translated as "as the cunning Catholics and Protestants would surely seize everything for themselves." The phrase "перетащут себе" has a connotation of unscrupulously appropriating something, so "seize" seemed most appropriate.
"Тип особенного класса женщин, увивающихся около духовных высшего класса" → Translated as "a type peculiar to that class of women who entwine themselves about the clergy of the highest rank." The verb "увиваться" has connotations of hovering around, fawning over, or ingratiating oneself with someone, but "entwine" was chosen for a more elegant phrasing.
"Язык ворочается у женщин в десять крат быстрее, чем у мужчин" → Translated as "Indeed, the tongues of women move tenfold faster than those of men." This sentence expresses a common 19th-century sentiment and was translated directly for historical accuracy.
"С интересом только рассматривал в браслете миниатюру отца Эммануэль, генерала, которому когда-то поднесли ключи Реймса" → Translated as "The only matter of interest was the miniature portrait of her father, General Emmanuel, encased within her bracelet—the very general to whom, once upon a time, the keys of Reims had been presented." The phrase "поднесли ключи Реймса" suggests an honor or surrender of the city’s keys, though the historical context is unclear.
"Непременно надо побыть в Могилеве, чтобы получить благословение маститого иерарха" → Translated as "I must make a journey to Mogilev to receive the blessing of that venerable hierarch." The word "маститого" (literally "venerable" or "revered") was preserved in its formal tone.
Uncertain or Potentially Ambiguous Passages:
"Васильчикова же совсем ребенок" → Does "ребенок" (child) refer to her actual young age or to her naivety in worldly affairs? I assumed it meant both but leaned toward youth.
"Чуть ли не сделает Министерство иностранных дел по-своему" → The phrase "чуть ли не" suggests something almost happening but not certainly, so I softened it with "It seems" rather than "It is certain that...".
"Тип особенного класса женщин, увивающихся около духовных высшего класса" → The phrase "увиваться" is a bit tricky. It can mean "fawning over" or "clinging to," but I chose "entwining themselves about" to maintain formality.
"Надоедают же они архиереям, надо полагать" → Translated as "Doubtless, they must weary the bishops", but "надо полагать" suggests some uncertainty, meaning it could also be "One might suppose they weary the bishops."
Housekeeping:
I tried to hide the translation notes behind a dropdown, but that requires a bit of custom HTML, and Substack doesn’t allow that easily. These notes were interesting to me, but I don’t know if my readers will find them interesting. What do you think?
Reflections:
In the first sentence of this entry, I found a remarkable fact: St. Nicholas of Japan was added to a major Russian Order, the Order of St. Vladimir, and barely talked about it!
Indeed, I had to confirm this fact elsewhere, and this first sentence was so ambiguously worded, it was a miracle I caught it.
Can you imagine receiving an award from your state, and then casually dismissing it?
I can’t. I’d be wearing that award every day. I’d be telling everyone.
The award looks like this:
And St. Nicholas merely mentions it in passing.
Nothing about how the award was received, nothing about receiving the letter, nothing about the ceremony. Just a casual mention that a fellow priest had stopped by to congratulate him, and then he went on to the day’s business.
Truly, he had his mind on heavenly things: the establishment of the Mission in Japan and the saving of Japanese souls were all he cared about.
Little trinkets and minor accolades didn’t phase him. He was a man on a mission.
And what am I doing here in Russia? I’m asked to appear on TV or podcasts, and it goes to my head! ‘Oh, look at me, I’m the Big Man on Campus! How exciting!’
God, save me! I’m such a fool!
And look at this:
While she was still seated, Father Sergius arrived, a hieromonk from the episcopal household of His Most Reverend Yevsevy of Mogilev, who had charged him with inquiring about me. I must make a journey to Mogilev to receive the blessing of that venerable hierarch, who, twenty years past in Irkutsk, had bestowed his benediction upon me and given me fatherly counsel for my journey and for life.
St. Nicholas knew what was really important.
I wonder if I do.
God help me.
I chuckled at this:
Indeed, the tongues of women move tenfold faster than those of men; she chattered ceaselessly, breathlessly, while I, paying no heed, mused upon how such personalities come to be. Surely, it must be from idleness and lack of occupation. Doubtless, they must weary the bishops…
You can hear the exasperation in his writings.
Perhaps this is how saints are made: patiently putting up with people like this, for years and years!