envied.... But it was not this alone, as his sister Varvara
supposed, that influenced him. There was also in him something else--a
sincere religious feeling which Varvara did not know, which intertwined
itself with the feeling of pride and the desire for pre-eminence,
and guided him. His disillusionment with Mary, whom he had thought
of angelic purity, and his sense of injury, were so strong that they
brought him to despair, and the despair led him--to what? To God, to his
childhood's faith which had never been destroyed in him.

II

Kasatsky entered the monastery on the feast of the Intercession of the
Blessed Virgin. The Abbot of that monastery was a gentleman by birth, a
learned writer and a starets, that is, he belonged to that succession
of monks originating in Walachia who each choose a director and teacher
whom they implicitly obey. This Superior had been a disciple of the
starets Ambrose, who was a disciple of Makarius, who was a disciple of
the starets Leonid, who was a disciple of Paussy Velichkovsky.

To this Abbot Kasatsky submitted himself as to his chosen director. Here
in the monastery, besides the feeling of ascendency over others that
such a life gave him, he felt much as he had done in the world: he found
satisfaction in attaining the greatest possible perfection outwardly
as well as inwardly. As in the regiment he had been not merely an
irreproachable officer but had even exceeded his duties and widened the
borders of perfection, so also as a monk he tried to be perfect, and was
always industrious, abstemious, submissive, and meek, as well as
pure both in deed and in thought, and obedient. This last quality in
particular made life far easier for him. If many of the demands of life
in the monastery, which was near the capital and much frequented, did
not please him and were temptations to him, they were all nullified by
obedience: 'It is not for me to reason; my business is to do the task
set me, whether it be standing beside the relics, singing in the choir,
or making up accounts in the monastery guest-house.' All possibility of
doubt about anything was silenced by obedience to the starets. Had
it not been for this, he would have been oppressed by the length and
monotony of the church services, the bustle of the many visitors, and
the bad qualities of the other monks. As it was, he not only bore it
all joyfully but found in it solace and support. 'I don't know why it is
necessary to hear the s