TOWER OF VIRTUE. ST.

HILARION
THE GEORGIAN OF MT. ATHOS.

Saint Hilarion the Georgian of Mount Athos was

born in 1776 to Khakhulia and Maria Qanchaveli. Of
ancient, noble lineage, his parents were extremely
pious, with a special devotion to the Great-martyr
George. By nationality they were Imeretian[2] and
lived in the village of Losiat-khevi in the province of
Kutaisi. Their newborn son was given the name Ise
(Jesse) in Holy Baptism.

When Ise reached the age of six, Maria's brother,

Hierodeacon Stephan (Stepane) arrived in Losiat-
khevi. Fr. Stephan was a renowned ascetic, who
before entering monasticism had lived at the royal
court under the protection of Prince George
Tsereteli. He eventually received permission to leave
the palace, and entered the Tabakini Monastery.
[3] After three years under the guidance of a
virtuous elder, Archimandrite Germanus, he was
tonsured and ordained a deacon. He spent the next
six years living in the monastery while longing for
seclusion. He was then allowed to live as a recluse,
at first only for a few days at a time; and then after
five years heentered a life of total seclusion.

Moved by divine zeal, Fr. Stephan yearned to train a

disciple in the eremitic life. Arriving at his sister's
house, he convinced her and her husband to
dedicate their firstborn son to God's service. Taking
Ise to his forest hermitage, the elder raised him for
the next twelve years—teaching him silence,
continence, prayer and the reading of the Sacred
Scriptures.Since Ise was totally cut off from the
world, the years of his youth were times of great
spiritual warfare. Rarely did Fr. Stephan permit Ise
to visit his parents or the monastery, and the boy
learned early of the devil's malice. By means of
various tricks, the demons tried to cause him either
mental confusion or death itself. At night they would
attack in the guise of thieves or call him with his
mother's voice, reminding him of the home he had
left. During the day they attacked him in the
appearance of bears or other beasts in order to
frighten him.

When Elder Stephan's repose drew near, he,

knowing this in advance, counseled Ise to leave the
hermitage after his death—for, living without a
director, he might fall into the devil's nets. Fr.
Stephan then went to the monastery, begged
forgiveness and gave a last kiss to the brothers. He
returned to his cell and after an illness of several
days departed to blessed eternity.

The elder's death was a great loss not only for the
brothers of the monastery but also for many laymen.
In him they had lost a man of prayer, a counselor,
and a comforter. Ise later testified that Fr. Stephan
was a man of strict monastic principles, who had
attained a high level of discernment in spiritual
matters. For weeks at a time he would only eat
cornbread with salt and water. At other times, he ate
only a few vegetables. During Great Lent he would
spend three days at a time in total abstinence. Many
came to him for advice. To one layman who desired
to become a monk he said, "If you wish to begin the
monastic life, you must first cut off up to one half of
all your whims and worldly predilections before the
monastic tonsure, and then labor so that all traces of
worldly life in you will be destroyed once and for
all."

After the elder's death, Ise moved to the Tabakini

Monastery. He lived there only a short time, as he
zealously desired to continue his studies. Hearing
that a school had been opened in Tbilisi, he secretly
left for eastern Georgia. En route, he stayed with the
Bishop of Nikozi, Athanasius. This holy man, after
hearing of Ise's life and listening to him read from
the Georgian prayer book, counseled him about his
future: "My child, you won't learn anything in school
like you have learned in the desert. So, return home,
and through the prayers of your elder, the Lord God
—Who has taught you these prayers—will guide you
into such a state that you will be of benefit to God's
Church and to your people." With the blessing of
this man of God, Ise returned to his parents' house.

Ise remained with his parents for only a short time,

before his father sent him to the palace in Kutaisi.
Like an offering Ise was brought to the king for
service. The king entrusted him to his attendant,
Prince George Tsereteli, for instruction. The latter,
seeing in him an inclination for the spiritual life,
entrusted him for further schooling in the sciences
to the well-educated Archimandrite Gerontius.
[4] Fr. Gerontius strove most of all to develop in his
pupil a love for prayer, and nurtured him in a strict
monastic spirit. Ise would afterwards recall with
wonder how the elder kept vigil, standing from
Compline until sunrise, and would make him stand
at prayer with him. Thus, they would pass the entire
night in psalmody and the reading of prayers from
the Georgian prayer book. Ise led an ascetic life with
his teacher, living in total obedience to the elder.
Once in winter, Fr. Gerontius entrusted him to
deliver a letter to a friend in Kutaisi, sending him
barefoot through the snow. The letter reached its
destination, and the man, struck by Ise's
appearance, gave him two piasters, ordering him to
buy leather sandals for himself. Returning with the
sandals on his feet to his elder, he received a severe
rebuke from the latter for his faintheartedness and
impatience.

The elder also gradually taught his disciple

abstinence, leading him forward little by little.
Initially, he instructed him to abstain from food
until the setting of the sun on Mondays,
Wednesdays and Fridays. Later, he weaned him
from tasting anything at all on these days.

At the same time, Fr. Gerontius educated him in

secular studies:[5] calligraphy, grammar,
arithmetic, etc. In such unremitting, sober labors,
Ise spent three and a half years with the elder.

When Fr. Gerontius saw that the youth had become

proficient in all his studies in such a short time, he
sent him back to Prince Tsereteli for other general
studies. The Prince kept Ise always by his side,
taking him wherever he went. After a year, the
Prince entrusted him to monitor the income and
expenses of his retinue. He likewise entrusted him
to sign all orders in his name, giving him his
personal seal for this purpose.

2. In Service to the King

Ise spent two more years in the service of Prince
Tsereteli before being brought to the palace in
Kutaisi. There, King Solomon II of Imeretia
appointed him to the ranks of the scribes
responsible for financial affairs. He served in this
position for two and a half years, after which the
king advised him to marry and enter the priesthood.
At that time, turmoil had arisen among the king's
attendants and the nobles regarding the annexation
of Imeretia into the Russian Empire. It was a
turbulent time and opinions were divided about the
best course to take. Thus, the king deemed it
expedient to have Ise ordained, seeing his
guilelessness and God-directed heart. Ise later
recalled that at this time the king had no one to rely
on in his own circle except for the commandef-in-
chief of the army, Prince Kaikhosro Tsereteli, and
several other trusted servants. Then the devoted
courtier Prince George Tsereteli reposed, which
brought great sorrow to the king. After his death the
king had no one with whom he could share his
innermost thoughts and feelings. He therefore
decided to have Ise ordained so that he might have a
confessor and counselor in questions of national
importance. Ise, obedient to the will of his
sovereign, entered into wedlock with a virgin of
royal birth named Maria. Having lived in her
parent's home only two weeks, he moved to Kutaisi,
where he was soon ordained a deacon and then a
priest. He was then appointed protopresbyter of the
palace church.

King Solomon kept Fr. Ise close to himself,

entrusting him to resolve the nobles' disagreements,
which had previously erupted in violence. The
responsibility of peacemaker demanded great tact
and patience on Fr. Ise's part. This was so time-
consuming that he was rarely able to see his wife.
This grieved Maria greatly. Once she learned that
her husband, returning from a routine journey to
the estate of Prince Abashidze, had traveled straight
to Kutaisi without informing her. Maria took this so
strongly to heart that she lost her health and, after a
six-month illness, reposed, having been married
only two years.

About this time, relations between Imeretia and

Russia reached a critical point. In 1801 the Kingdom
of Kartli-Kakheti (eastern Georgia) had been
annexed to the Russian Empire at the request of
King George XIII (reposed December 1800) to
protect the country from the Ottoman Turks and the
Persian shah. The Russian government then
initiated correspondence with the Imeretian king
concerning the uniting of his nation with Russia.
King Solomon II sought the counsel of his country's
foremost nobles, and in 1804, due to pressure from
Russia, he was left with little choice but to set forth
the following: since the king did not have an heir to
the throne, Imeretia would retain her independence
until his death, remaining in brotherly relations
with Russia as between two realms of the same faith.
The Russian army had free passage across Imeretian
territory to the Turkish border, and the Imeretian
army was required to render them aid. The relations
of the two countries were to be upheld in those
sacred terms which are proper to God's anointed
rulers and Christian peoples united in an indivisible
union of soul—eternally and unwaveringly. But after
the king's death the legislation of the Russian
Empire would be introduced. The resolution was
then sent to the Governor-General of the Caucasus
in Tbilisi for forwarding to Tsar Alexander I.
Despite the general approval of the resolution by the
king's subjects, one nobleman, Prince Zurab
Tsereteli, began plotting how he could seize the
Imeretian throne for himself. He first attempted to
erode the friendly relations between the two
monarchs by slandering each to the other. Unable to
sow discord, he began a communication with the
Russian governor-general of the Caucasus,
Alexander Tormasov. Depicting the royal suite in
the darkest colors to the governor-general, after
repeated intrigues he finally succeeded in his
designs. Eventually, the report reached the tsar. He,
believing the slander, ordered Tormasov to lure
King Solomon II to Tbilisi and escort him to Russia,
where he would remain as a virtual prisoner.

Not able to believe that others could be so base,

treacherous and ignoble, the king fell into the trap
set by Tormasov and Prince Zurab. Fr. Ise had
initially warned the king of Prince Zurab's
disloyalty. However, upon learning of his wife's
repose he returned to Kutaisi and was unable to
further counsel the king. King Solomon II and his
entire retinue were eventually coaxed all the way to
Tbilisi. There they were put under house arrest; the
plan being to send the king to live out his days in a
palace in St. Petersburg. Preferring exile to
imprisonment, the king and his noblemen conceived
a plan of escape and fled across the border to
Turkey. There, with Fr. Ise and his retinue, he lived
out the remainder of his life. After great
deprivations and aborted attempts to reclaim the
Imeretian Kingdom from Russia, King Solomon II
reposed at Trebizond on February 19, 1815, in his
forty-first year. He was buried in the cathedral of St.
Gregory of Nyssa.[6]
 3. Imprisoned in the Palace

After the king's death, Fr. Ise intended to set out for
Imeretia (then annexed by Russia) no matter what
the consequences. He informed all the courtiers,
who numbered about six hundred men, and
suggested that they follow his example. Many of
them accepted his decision joyfully, but fear of the
tsar's wrath hampered this plan. Fr. Ise reassured
everyone, promising to take upon himself the task of
mediating before the tsar. He immediately wrote out
a petition in the name of all the princes and other
members of the retinue and sent it to the tsar. The
sovereign graciously received their petition, restored
them to their former ranks, and returned their
estates.

In May 1815, three months after King Solomon's

death, Fr. Ise returned with the courtiers to
Imeretia. There, he settled in his parent's home.
Finally free from the responsibility of being the
royal confessor, he began to seek a place suitable for
a hesychastic habitation. He thought of making his
abode near his native village, or in the wilderness
near Tabakini Monastery, where he had spent the
years of his youth. But not seven months had passed
after his return to his homeland when the Imeretian
queen, Maria, requested him to come to Moscow,
where she had been brought after King Solomon's
flight to Turkey. The queen felt that Fr. Ise as royal
confessor was better able to inform her of her
husband's last days. True to his duty, Fr. Ise
immediately set out to inform the queen of
everything that had come to pass. He presented the
queen with a large piece of the Life-giving Cross that
had belonged to King Solomon II, and the queen
placed it in her house church. Esteeming Fr. Ise's
devotion to her late husband, and, furthermore, not
wishing to have a foreigner (a Russian) as her
confessor, the queen retained the priest at her
Moscow palace.

Upon Fr. Ise's arrival in Moscow, a new temptation

befell him. The tsar desired to have him consecrated
bishop of a large city. This was probably due either
to his transforming the rebellious Imeretian
noblemen into faithful subjects of the Russian
Empire or to the recommendation of Queen Maria.
Nevertheless, the loftiness of rank could not entice
the soul of Fr. Ise, which yearned for solitude even
while fulfilling his obedience in a Moscow palace.

Having settled in the palace, he soon beheld the

great spiritual degradation of the religious and
moral life of the courtiers—especially when
contrasted with the piety that the former Imeretian
kings and people had upheld. He observed that the
queen and her court had forgotten their Christian
duty, instead reveling in worldly amusements:
failing to keep the fasts on Wednesday and Friday,
incessant carousing, and outright profligacy as well.
The queen herself served as an example of this,
conducting herself as the court favorite. All this
burdened Fr. Ise exceedingly, and all his
exhortations and instructions were disregarded.

Despite his strict watch over himself, Fr. Ise too was
infected by the worldliness of the court. Willingly or
unwillingly he had submitted to the conditions of
life in the ancient Russian capital: his table
abounded with diverse dishes, he drank much wine
and slept on a feathered bed. There loomed the even
more serious danger of a deep and grievous fall. Fr.
Ise was distinguished by his physical beauty: tall in
stature, wide in shoulders, stately—a handsome
man. His soul's beauty was reflected on his noble
face, and involuntarily the eyes of many fell upon
him. In piously disposed souls he evoked respect;
but in passionate, sensuous people he roused
impure lust. Fr. Ise came to experience all the
savage attacks of the primordial enemy through the
ladies and maidens of the court. Their immodest
advances so constrained his modest soul that he
firmly resolved to leave the court—he could find no
other way of avoiding the pursuit of these women.
Moreover, he came to understand that by himself he
could not transform the morals of the court.

Battered from all sides, Fr. Ise repeatedly besought

the queen to free him from the difficult life of the
ancient capital so he could return to his homeland.
The queen, however, would not hear of it. At times
she dismissed the matter with a joke, and at other
times she resolutely denied his request. Fr. Ise in
turn firmly disclosed to her on many occasions that,
if she would not release him voluntarily, he would
leave secretly. At this the queen, smiling, would
remark that this was not Imeretia, and such flights
were impossible: in the first city to which he might
come, the police would arrest him and return him to
the palace. In this way three and a half years
elapsed, which served as a mighty test for Fr. Ise's
pious soul, a test incomparably greater than the
seven years of wandering with King Solomon on
foreign soil.

Remaining in such a desperate plight, Fr. Ise found

rest for his soul only in prayer to the Lord and His
Most Pure Mother. Pouring forth his afflicted soul,
he entreated them to fulfill his long-awaited desire—
to live as a recluse in the wilderness. Likewise he
prayed to the Holy Great-martyr George, in whom
he had conceived great faith while still in his
parent's house, and who had already aided him
many times in his life. About this time, Fr. Ise
became acquainted with the archimandrite of Iveron
Monastery on Mount Athos, then residing in the St.
Nicholas Monastery in Moscow. This archimandrite
would later reveal to the monks of the Holy
Mountain who Fr. Ise really was, since on Athos he
would conceal himself under the guise of a poor
simple monk.

With each passing day Fr. Ise's sorrow grew. Once,

in a frank conversation with Queen Maria's valet, a
man deeply devoted to him, he revealed his heart's
desire. The latter approved of his good intention and
promised to help. Conceiving a plan, he informed
Fr. Ise of it. Having prayed fervently, they went to
Metropolitan Seraphim.[7] The Metropolitan often
visited the queen and was well acquainted with both
the valet and Fr. Ise. Coming to the Metropolitan,
the valet told him that the queen had sent him to
request the issuance of a passport for Fr. Ise, as he
was going home to Imeretia for a while. The
Metropolitan, without suspecting anything,
immediately made the arrangements for the
passport to be issued.

Winged by hope in the fulfillment of his desire, Fr.

Ise appeared before the queen, and, as he had done
many times previously, began to tell her that he was
going to leave. The queen laughed at his words.
When he said that he had already received his
passport, she replied that she did not believe him,
because without her permission no one would issue
him one. With the words, "Farewell, I'm departing!"
Fr. Ise left the queen and departed that very night.
However, he did not travel to Georgia, knowing that
the queen could easily find him there and summon
him again to Moscow. Instead, he traveled to
Odessa, and proceeded directly to Constantinople.
His intention was to visit Palestine and Sinai, and to
settle somewhere in those places where in ancient
times Georgians had lived the ascetic life.[8] About
Mount Athos, he knew almost nothing.

4. Arrival on Mount Athos

He arrived in Constantinople during the season of
Pentecost and went to the representative of the
Jerusalem Patriarchate to inquire concerning
voyages to Jerusalem. They explained to him that if
Fr. Ise wanted to await Pascha in Jerusalem, he
would have to spend nearly an entire year there and
this would probably fatigue him. Therefore it would
be better for him to go to Athos, spend the time
before winter there, and then travel to Jerusalem
shortly before Great Lent. Fr. Ise realized that in
contemplating going to the Holy Mountain, the
kingdom of monks, he would most likely begin
thinking of settling there permanently. He seriously
pondered it, and so great was his resolve to serve the
Lord wholeheartedly that he immediately changed
his silk garments for the old tatters of a beggar. By
this he hoped to conceal his former worldly state,
and serve the Lord in obscurity in total self-re-
nunciation. Finding a ship, he set out for Athos, and
arrived on the Holy Mountain in 1819.

Arriving on Athos, Fr. Ise settled in the Iveron

Monastery. Although Iveron had been founded by
Georgians and at one time had been filled with his
fellow countrymen, he now found none. Not
knowing the Greek language, he managed to
communicate with several brothers in Turkish.
Since those who knew Turkish were few, Fr. Ise
spent the greater part of his time in silence. He
explained that he was a Georgian by birth, a poor
man, which his old, soiled clothing corroborated. He
said that he had come to Athos to venerate the holy
objects and to see the Holy Mountain. According to
custom they led him to the guesthouse, where he
spent a week attending church services and
observing monastery life.

Silently walking around the monastery, Fr. Ise

attentively observed the inner way of life of an
idiorrhythmic monastery, but the idiorrhythmic rule
did not appeal to him and he said to himself,
"Although this is our monastery, yet it is not for
me!" One morning he walked outside the monastery
gates and noticed that several of the brothers were
lifting sacks over their shoulders and leaving for
somewhere. Fr. Ise learned from them that they
were going to Dionysiou Monastery for their
patronal feast, the Nativity of St. John the
Forerunner, which was to take place the next day.
When he asked if they would take him, they replied,
"If you would like, let's go."

Traditionally, everyone who comes to an Athonite

monastery for a feast day first goes to the
guesthouse. Here everyone is treated to a small
liqueur, a cup of Greek coffee, and cold water. Then
the pilgrims proceed to the refectory for a meal
before the vigil. For Fr. Ise, however, things turned
out differently. While entering the monastery he lost
his traveling companions in the crowd of people.
They, forgetting that he was unfamiliar with the
local customs, neglected to look for him. Fr. Ise had
not eaten anything all day and was exceedingly
hungry. Not expecting that someone would invite
him to the refectory and, hearing that they were
already ringing for the All-night Vigil, he went to
church amidst a group of pilgrims. He assumed that,
for the sake of the memory of the great prophet
John the Baptist, it was a strict fast day in the
monastery, and the brothers were also not eating
anything.

The length of the service amazed him, for the night

was past and the vigil continued on. It ended only
two hours after sunrise. Fr. Ise pondered: Would
they offer anything to eat? Would they continue
fasting now, too?

But then Liturgy began. Only afterwards did

everyone go to the refectory, and Fr. Ise followed
behind everyone. The feast day served as a great
spiritual consolation. He liked the order of services,
the way of life of the monks, and the strictness and
harmony in everything so much that he wanted to
remain in the monastery.

On the third day of the feast the guestmaster asked

Fr. Ise why he was not leaving with the others. He
replied that he would like to spend more time at the
monastery observing the rule of life, and the
guestmaster told him he must obtain the blessing of
the abbot to do this. Fr. Ise went to the abbot—who
spoke Turkish well—and explained to him that he
liked the strict order of Dionysiou and wished to live
there and observe their life, for which he was now
asking a blessing. If it pleased the abbot to accept
him, then he was prepared to remain there
permanently. Abbot Stephen, seeing his bodily
strength, agreed to accept him, saying that he
needed working hands. He gave him an obedience to
work in the kitchen.

At Dionysiou Fr. Ise found his old friend, Fr.

Benedict the Georgian,[9] who was living close to
the monastery in a hermitage. During Great Lent in
1821 they received the tonsure to the great schema
together. At the tonsure, Fr. Ise received the name
of Hilarion. Although tonsured first, Fr. Hilarion
always considered Fr. Benedict as his senior,
especially in regard to ascetic labors. New monastic
garments had been prepared for the tonsure, but Fr.
Hilarion refused them and asked to be clothed in his
tattered robes.

Besides laboring in the kitchen and refectory, Fr.

Hilarion was given all the difficult obediences. He
was sent to cultivate the monastery vineyards at
Monoxilitis located not far beyond the boundary of
Athos. He always chose those tasks which were most
laborious and difficult there. At the vineyards he
took the heaviest and largest shovel, embedded it
deep in the ground, and dug in such a way that no
one could imitate him. Likewise, he untiringly bore
all his obediences in the monastery, being endowed
by the Lord with both physical strength and zeal for
ascetic labors.Even though he did not know Greek,
the brothers loved Fr. Hilarion for his exemplary
love of labor and his meek and ascetic life. Living in
Dionysiou under the guise of a poor, simple
Georgian and possessing absolutely nothing, Fr.
Hilarion never locked his cell. Once, one of the
brothers went into his cell during his absence and,
seeing a tin container, became curious and opened
it. To his utter astonishment he found a Russian
passport and an imperial Turkish decree indicating
that the bearer was a priest. He immediately told the
abbot, who summoned Fr. Hilarion and asked him
what he kept in the tin container. Fr. Hilarion
replied that it was his passport. The abbot ordered
him to bring the documents to him. Fr. Hilarion,
hoping that no one knew how to read Russian and
Turkish, brought them to the abbot. To his great
sorrow, one monk read Turkish and was able to read
the imperial decree. Thus, they all learned he was a
priest. Fr. Hilarion persuaded the brothers not to
speak to anyone of this.

Fr. Hilarion spent about two years carrying out

difficult obediences with love and self-denial.
However, he was troubled that, in not knowing
Greek, he was deprived of hearing the word of God.
His soul languished from not reading the Sacred
Scriptures. Therefore, Fr. Hilarion decided to reveal
his thoughts to the abbot and seek a blessing to go to
the Iveron Monastery, where he would ask for a few
of the many books in the Georgian tongue. The
abbot blessed him, and Fr. Hilarion set out for
Iveron in his customary old and soiled raiment.

Reaching Iveron, he stopped to pray before the

wonderworking icon of the Theotokos.[10] It was
evening then, and the senior brethren were sitting in
the portico at the entrance to the monastery. Among
them was that very archimandrite with whom Fr.
Hilarion had become acquainted while still in
Moscow. As soon as he saw Fr. Hilarion, he
immediately recognized him. To the astonishment
of everyone, he rushed up to him and began kissing
his shoulders and hands, exclaiming all the while,
"Oh! Oh! Papa Ise, Papa Ise! The holy confessor!
The royal confessor!" Bewildered by such an
extraordinary greeting, everyone stood up and
approached the visiting monk. The archimandrite,
holding Fr. Hilarion by the hand, introduced him to
the fathers, saying, "This is Fr. Ise—the royal
confessor, whom I had the pleasure of meeting in
Moscow in the palace of the Queen of Imeretia." The
astonished monks led him into the monastery,
where everyone was amazed at such an unexpected
revelation, especially those brethren who had seen
him as a poor newcomer two years earlier. The
archimandrite led Fr. Hilarion to his quarters and
for three days would not let him go, begging him to
remain in their monastery. He offered Fr. Hilarion
the best cells at the monastery's expense with
attendants. But being convinced that Fr. Hilarion
would remain unbending, he gave him the Georgian
books and sorrowfully let him depart.
With a sack on his shoulders, Fr. Hilarion returned
to Dionysiou, not suspecting that his true identity
had already become known there. The rumor that a
royal confessor was hiding at Dionysiou under the
guise of a simple monk had already spread across
Athos. At the monastery entrance the porter
respectfully prostrated before him, greeted him as
an elder and informed the abbot. The latter met him
with outstretched arms, reproaching him in a
brotherly way for not revealing his identity earlier.
Fr. Hilarion, troubled by such a reception, said, "My
visit to Iveron was not to my benefit. It would have
been better if I had not gone there, for I came to the
Holy Mountain to weep over my sins, and it was
more peaceful in ignominy for me than it is now."

The abbot no longer wished to allow him to fulfill

his previous obediences, but asked him to take upon
himself the duty of confessor. Fr. Hilarion, however,
resolutely refused this, and insistently asked that
they not deprive him of the opportunity to serve the
brothers. He proceeded to the kitchen, but soon
departed, for the respect of all followed him
everywhere. The brethren would not let him fulfill
his former difficult obediences, but attempted in
every way possible—lifting loads, carrying water and
firewood—to forestall the elder. This came to an end
when he left the kitchen and took up his abode in a
secluded cell near the monastery.

5. Confession of the Faith

In 1821, as a result of the Greek Insurrection, the

Turks began a series of reprisals and persecutions.
Christian blood flowed like a river, for the Turks
wanted to put down the uprising and suppress the
revolt by force of arms. As Athos had also supported
this uprising, it too was subjected to the grievous
consequences of war. In 1822 the ruler of
Thessalonica, Abdul Robut Pasha, marched toward
Athos from Cassandra with a large army and made
camp at Kumitsa at the Isthmus near the border of
Athos.

The pasha then sent an order that the superior of

every monastery must appear before him in
repentance. In case of their refusal, he vowed to
occupy the Holy Mountain and destroy the
monasteries. The abbots, knowing the Turks' cruelty
and fanaticism, evoked at the time by the uprising,
decided not to appear before the pasha, well aware
that they would not remain among the living.

Abbot Stephen of Dionysiou Monastery, fearing to

appear personally before the pasha, asked Fr.
Hilarion to take his place. Fr. Hilarion gladly agreed
to his request, saying, "I am not afraid of the Turks!"
But the abbot warned him that this time the matter
was not so simple. When the envoys would depart to
meet the pasha, then all the brothers would leave
the monasteries, taking with them all the valuables
and holy objects—for which they had boats waiting.
This would not go unobserved by the Turks, and
they of course, in revenge for this trickery, would kill
the envoys. Consequently, certain death awaited
him. Fr. Hilarion exhibited his complete willingness
for anything, as he had long desired to suffer
martyrdom for Christ. The abbot said, "Now is the
most timely opportunity—take advantage of it for
the common good." Two others, Hieromonk
Panteleimon and another monk, accompanied Fr.
Hilarion.

Reaching Kumitsa, the envoys presented themselves

before the pasha with a letter from the Holy
Community[11] in which the representatives of the
monasteries were named. The pasha began to read,
and when he reached the name of Fr. Hilarion the
Georgian he stopped, glanced at the fathers, and
asked which one was the Georgian. Then,
addressing Fr. Hilarion in Georgian, the pasha
discovered that Fr. Hilarion lived in the province
neighboring his native land, Abkhazia. In fact they
had lived in adjacent towns, and Fr. Hilarion knew
the pasha's home quite well. The pasha turned out
to be the son of an Orthodox priest. In his youth he
had been taken captive, sold to Turks and converted
by them to Islam.

"So, we're fellow countrymen," said the pasha. "How

long have you lived here and why did you come?"

The elder answered, "I came in order to pray to God,

and I've lived here three years."

The pasha then began to speak to Fr. Hilarion in

Turkish: "Why did you come to join these thieves?
Why have you, an honorable and noble human
being, become mixed up with these scoundrels?"
Mercilessly upbraiding Athos and its monks, the
pasha meanwhile tried to persuade Fr. Hilarion to
abandon the Holy Mountain, presenting him with
many arguments. Among other things he related
that he had come with the intention of killing all the
monks of Athos, but pitying him as a man of nobility
and a compatriot, he did not want to subject him to
such a lot. Attempting to convince Fr. Hilarion to
abandon Athos, he offered him his home near
Thessalonica, every protection, assistance, and
money from the sultan to settle wherever he liked—
even in his homeland. Fr. Hilarion, however, replied
that he had come to Athos to save his soul and,
besides, he needed nothing.

The pasha again attempted to persuade him to

abandon Athos—this "nest of prodigality and
thievery." But Fr. Hilarion rejected this proposal
and said about the Athonite fathers: "No, these are
honorable people and true servants of God. Look
how dishonorably you have proceeded. You have
forsaken the true Christian Faith. Now, to crown
your grievous errors and perdition, you are
marching armed with weapons against Christ's
followers, spilling their innocent blood and
capturing Christian youths by force, so as to lead
them into apostasy—into the same destruction." The
pasha in reply implicated the Athonite monks in the
uprising against the Turkish authorities, and in
inciting all the inhabitants to this end. Regarding
the capture of the Athonite youths, he said that they
could serve the government with benefit and need
not be buried in the wilderness.

Then the pasha began to blaspheme the Orthodox

Faith, stating, "What folly it is for a Christian to
believe that a virgin gave birth to God. How could a
human womb contain God, and having given birth
remain virgin?" To this Fr. Hilarion objected, "You
do not understand the mystery of the Incarnation of
God the Word. The understanding of this is the gift
of God, and whosoever has it understands how a
virgin can give birth to the Redeemer of the world!
But, I will explain it to you." At these words the
pasha was moved to wrath and began to pace
quickly back and forth before his tent. The
remaining monastery envoys, understanding that
this conversation would not lead to any good,
inconspicuously moved Fr. Hilarion back and
quietly said to him, "Now is not the time for these
arguments, because you might anger the pasha and
provoke him to the extent that not only you, but all
who remain on the Holy Mountain will be put to
death or torture. If you don't pity yourself, then at
least have pity on the holy fathers of Athos who will
meet such a grievous fate." Having convinced Fr.
Hilarion by their words, they spoke with the pasha
and handed him the gifts they had brought.
The pasha allowed Fr. Hilarion to go wherever he
pleased, but he incarcerated the remaining
representatives in the prison in Thessalonica. He
sent the Athonite youths also to Thessalonica for
preparation to embrace Islam—there were more
than three hundred of them. The pasha himself went
to Njegosh, a city beyond Thessalonica, where a
revolt had recently taken place; there he killed a
multitude of Christians.

Upon returning to Athos, Fr. Hilarion grieved that

he had not successfully countered the pasha's
blasphemous words. The latter remained as it were
the victor. He sorrowed even more upon hearing of
the pasha's bestial deeds in Njegosh. Aflame with
godly zeal, he implored Abbot Stephen to permit
him to go to Thessalonica for a talk with the pasha.
The abbot asked him if he had within him enough
courage and strength, and if he was capable of
enduring prolonged torture and death itself. Fr.
Hilarion replied that he was ready for anything with
God's help; even in Kumitsa he had sought this,
having begun to reproach the pasha, but they would
not let him finish. Abbot Stephen unhesitatingly
blessed him, wishing him the aid of the Lord and the
Theotokos. Having asked the prayers of the
brothers, Fr. Hilarion went on foot to Thessalonica
and arrived during the Muslims' Ramadan, during
which the Turks fast by day but make merry after
sunset.

At the gates of the pasha's residence, the elder asked

the guard to inform the pasha that Hilarion the
Georgian wished to speak with him. Inside, the chief
Turkish functionaries had gathered as well as
several foreign dignitaries: English, French, Jewish,
and Armenian. Evening was close and they would
soon begin their banquet. When they informed the
pasha of Fr. Hilarion's arrival, he said for all to hear,
"Oh! It's that priest whom I convinced of the
emptiness of the Christian belief, and he has come
here to receive the faith of the great prophet.
Summon him!"

At the summons, Fr. Hilarion entered. Seeing the

pasha seated on a divan and all his functionaries
standing before him, he paid him his due respect.
The pasha with joy addressed him, "Oh! Papa
Hilarion! Welcome! You have obviously come as a
consequence of our conversation about the faith?"
"Yes," replied Fr. Hilarion, "it was chiefly your
words that caused me to come straight here to speak
with you in detail, since in Kumitsa they wouldn't let
me finish our conversation. For me it is a pleasure
that at this time I find the first citizens of
Thessalonica here with you." "It's my pleasure also,"
said the pasha, "to meet and speak with you on this
day of our feast."

Then he sat Fr. Hilarion beside himself on the divan

while all the respected citizens continued to stand
before them. Fr. Hilarion then began where their
conversation had been interrupted: "You expressed
doubt as to how the Virgin could give birth to God,
and having given birth, could still remain virgin? So
I will explain this to you, for both you and your
prophet Muhammad say that Jesus Christ was born
from the Virgin, was born from a seedless
conception, and therefore His Nativity as the true
God is inscrutable. He is the true God and for the
salvation of mankind He took upon Himself flesh
that He might redeem the fallen race of mankind
from the curse of death."

The pasha, realizing that the elder was steadfast in

all his convictions, started an argument with him,
during the course of which Fr. Hilarion brought up
the pasha's cruelty in Njegosh and said, "Don't you
fear God, torturing Christians innocent of any
wrongdoing? You were born of Christian parents,
and yet you act so bestially so as to quell the torment
of your conscience because of your apostasy from
Christ."

The pasha, laughing, replied, "Just the contrary, I

was so happy that I was delivered from the ludicrous
faith of the Christians, that later, when I was already
a pasha, and when the man who had stolen me from
my parents and sold me to the Turks came to me, I
gave him a baksheesh [reward]. I thanked him that
he had done me a great service. If your faith was
true and pleasing to God, then the Lord would not
have given you into the hands of your enemies and
they would not be treading you down always and
everywhere."

Fr. Hilarion objected to these proud words: "You

understand everything incorrectly, Pasha. Does a
father not take a rod to chastise his beloved son
when he misbehaves? But he does this not to turn
his son away from his heart, but to correct him.
When he sees that the child has corrected himself,
then he breaks the rod and casts it into the fire.
Likewise, the Lord has used you to scourge us for
our sins, desiring and seeking our amendment. You
are an iron rod in God's right hand, and when the
Lord sees our amendment, He will cast this rod into
the place appointed for it, as a thing no longer
needed."

Then he began to upbraid the pasha for the youths

he had captured on Athos. The pasha continued to
listen to his reproaches without wrath, but when the
day reached evening the elder was unable to speak
any longer. The pasha offered him lodging, but Fr.
Hilarion, seeking not repose but martyrdom,
refused the pasha's offer. He passed the entire night
in the courtyard, hoping to attain his goal on the
following day.

Three days passed in this way, with the elder

reproving and reviling the pasha in the hope of
compelling him to order his martyrdom. Still, the
pasha remained unmoved. Fr. Hilarion spent the
second night in the home of a certain God-loving
Christian named Spandoni, who together with his
whole family showed the elder warm hospitality.

On one of these nights, while Fr. Hilarion was

praying in preparation for his martyrdom, an armed
Turk entered the house. At that time it was
permissible to kill any Christian. Therefore, the Turk
unsheathed his sword and wanted to strike the
praying elder, saying, "I'll cut you up." However,
brandishing the sword, he was unable to carry out
his intention—his hand was as it were petrified, and
somehow restrained. Holding the sword for a long
time in the air, he was only able to lower it when he
decided to return the sword to the scabbard without
harming the elder.

On the fourth day, Fr. Hilarion tried even harder to

anger the pasha. He began to speak about the
falsehood of Islam and of its founder Muhammad.
Calling him a deceiver, he stated that not only had
he perished, but also everyone who believes in him
will perish.

"Where do you think we will go?" the pasha asked,

laughing.

"The same place where your Muhammad will go!"

answered the elder.

"And where is that?"

"To hell!" answered Fr. Hilarion, "—and you along

with him!"

"Who, according to you, will be saved and go to

heaven?"

"Only those who truly believe in God, who are found

in the bosom of the Orthodox Faith of Christ; beside
this, everyone—Jews, Armenians,[12] Catholics and
Protestants—will be condemned to torment."
Then everyone who was in the room cried out in
wrath, "Death to him!" At these cries it was
impossible for the pasha to remain indifferent any
longer. He did not desire the elder's death, but in
order not to be reckoned an apostate from
Muhammad's law he ordered Fr. Hilarion's head to
be cut off. "Look, you have brought this upon
yourself; I no longer have any power to defend you.
Because of your daring words your head will roll
from your shoulders!"

Fr. Hilarion, baring his head, lowered it and said,

"Well, cut it off! I do not fear to die for the truth. He
held his head that way until the executioner came to
lead him to the place of execution.
While preparations for carrying out the sentence
were taking place a pair of Abkhazian bodyguards,
whom the pasha loved for their faithfulness and
devotion, came to him. He told them of his decree to
execute the Georgian priest. Dumbfounded, they
clasped their hands, crying out, "This cannot
happen, this cannot come to pass! This is a disgrace
to us. We would never be able to appear in the city.
Hardly had one of our compatriots appeared in this
region, they will say, and they executed him. This
will be our eternal shame." Not wishing to grieve his
beloved friends, the pasha gave Fr. Hilarion over to
their disposal.

The people streamed after Fr. Hilarion and the

executioner: Christians and Turks and a multitude
of Jews. Walking along the streets, the crowd
continued to grow, and at the central square there
was such a crowd thronging them that it was
impossible to proceed. Fr. Hilarion walked firmly.
Neither on his face nor in his movements was a
shadow of fear to be seen. Whispering his prayers,
he appeared joyful, as if walking to a wedding feast.
The bodyguards, having received the pasha's
permission, hurriedly went to the square. Squeezing
their way through the crowd, they met Fr. Hilarion
at the place of execution. In the name of the pasha
they took him from the executioner's hands and led
him away, the people following after them.

Fr. Hilarion thought that they had changed the place

and manner of his execution and were leading him
to the gallows, and thus he obediently walked
behind his guides, continuing to offer prayer. But
the farther they led him, the more bewildered he
became. They had gone quite far; they had walked
along the streets and through courtyards. In every
square he expected that there his punishment would
be meted out. In the meantime they led him ever
further and further away in the direction along
which he had come from Athos. The people, who
had been persistently following him, were stopped
by the sentry at the city gates. The Abkhazian
officials led Fr. Hilarion out of the city, and when he
was already far from the city, one of them hit him on
the back of the head with such force that he nearly
hit the ground face first. They said to him, "Get
going to your Athos, Priest, and don't show your face
here again."

Getting up, Fr. Hilarion slowly walked a short

distance and glanced back. Both officials stood on
the same spot and, threatening him, cried out that
he should walk without looking back. Walking quite
far, he looked back one more time and saw them
standing on the same spot menacingly shaking their
fists at him. Soon they were no longer visible. Then
Fr. Hilarion, crossing himself, sighed and said, "I,
the wretched one, am not worthy that the Lord
would receive from me the sacrifice of martyrdom."
He quietly started down the road for Athos.
Remembering the love of that Christian who had
given him lodging, he decided to return and thank
him for the shelter and his generosity. Spandoni,
meeting the elder again, would not let him go on
foot to Athos, but gave him a horse and a guide.

6. Ministry to the Imprisoned

Returning to Athos with the guide, Fr. Hilarion went
en route to Thessalonica. Having passed through the
entire city, they had already reached the last
outlying streets when they suddenly heard a voice:
"Father, Father!" Fr. Hilarion looked around but did
not see anyone. The voice again called him. Then in
the wall of a nearby building he saw a small window
and from it someone was waving and calling him to
come. In this building there were incarcerated,
along with common criminals, Christians—chiefly
Athonite monks—because of their involvement in
the Greek Insurrection.

The prisoners were languishing from hunger and

thirst. When Fr. Hilarion drew close to the window,
the hand that had waved at him showed itself again,
holding a cup. A voice from the prison asked him to
bring water. Fr. Hilarion fulfilled the man's request,
but just then another hand appeared with a cup and
the same request, then one hand after another
reached out. The elder fulfilled everyone's request
joyfully and, when he learned who was being held
captive there, he decided to stay and serve the
prisoners.

He dismissed his escort, sending him back with the

horse. He reasoned that the Lord had left him
among the living precisely that he might minister to
these unfortunate ones. Every day the elder came to
the prison and brought them what they requested:
bread, water and other food.

One of the Turkish guards, noticing this, wanted in

his wrath to kill Fr. Hilarion. The elder, not being
frightened in the least, was ready with joy to meet
death at the hands of the angry Turk. But about the
same time, the other guard awoke and stopped him
with these words: "Don't touch him, let him bring
things. Look, neither you nor I nor any one of us has
given them bread; we were not posted to starve
them to death, but only to guard them. So if he has
such fervor, let him feed them and let us not hinder
him."

Fr. Hilarion spent six months in this manner

helping the prisoners. In a separate ward in the
same prison, two prisoners hung from ropes. One
was a Christian and the other was a rich Turkish
banker, from whom the pasha, by trial and torture,
was trying to extort money for the needs of the
government. These two prisoners had been hung by
the hands and feet so that at the slightest movement
the ropes would swing from side to side. Special
guards were assigned to them, who kept their guns
always loaded and their swords bared, not allowing
anyone to come close to the unfortunate ones. They
were given neither food nor drink, as they had been
sentenced to starve to death in this frightful
manner.

It was a warm day and the men suspended in the air

were tormented by unbearable thirst. Their lips
were parched and cracked. Fr. Hilarion, who often
happened to be in the prison, concentrated all his
attention on how he might help these two
unfortunate men—but any attempt might cost him
his life. Filling a flask with water and grabbing two
large pears, Fr. Hilarion began to wait for an
opportune moment to approach them. Then, at one
point he noticed that both sardari [guards], who
stood with bared swords and loaded guns, had
leaned back against the wall and fallen asleep. To
everyone's astonishment, the elder quietly made his
way between the guards without waking them—
despite the narrow passage. Approaching one of the
suspended men, he poured a little water down his
throat, then gave a little to the other, and having
repeated this three times, he placed in the mouth of
each a pear. The Turkish banker, seeing the elder's
self-denial, said, "May Allah reward your good deed!
But get out quickly so that the guards don't cut you
to pieces." All the prisoners watched Fr. Hilarion in
trepidation. Having accomplished this task, the
elder hastened to depart. Returning past the guards,
in spite of his caution, he nevertheless bumped one
of the sleeping guards and they both awoke. But the
Lord, who had brought sleep upon them,
wondrously protected Fr. Hilarion: for having
awoken and seen the elder's action, they remained
immobile. Standing there stupefied, they did
nothing to the elder. This act of his saved the
unfortunate men from death, sustaining their vital
strength.

After the elder's departure for Athos, a relative of

the Turkish banker went before the pasha and
obtained his release. The banker told everyone
about the elder's deed and said, "Point him out to
me, give him to me! I will gild him, I will cast his
image in gold and bow down before him as my
savior!"

Soon after this incident, Fr. Hilarion came to the

prison to part with his friends, informing them that
on the previous evening he had been informed by
God to abandon his ministry to the prisoners and set
out for Athos. He would never have left of his own
accord, but, obedient to God's decree, he had to go.
He found a man to replace him in serving the
prisoners, and the God-loving Spandoni agreed to
pay for his labor. Fr. Hilarion explained his work to
him and, having parted with everyone, set out on his
way. The day after the elder's departure, everyone
learned that the pasha had ordered the executioner
to cut off his head. Then all the prisoners glorified
God, Who protects His servants—and their sorrow
over the elder's departure was turned to joy.

7. Return to Mt. Athos and Desert-dwelling

Reproaching himself and considering himself

unworthy of the crown of martyrdom, Fr. Hilarion
returned on foot to Athos and again settled in
Dionysiou Monastery. There he carried out his same
obediences, while also serving the Turks, who had
settled in droves in the monasteries of the Holy
Mountain.[1] In Dionysiou alone there were about
fifty of them.

This circumstance forced Fr. Hilarion to move to the

desert. He settled not far from the monastery in a
cave beneath the mountain, where he lived for two
and a half years. Here he had no food for himself.
Initially, someone gave him some squash, and every
day he cut off a small piece and ate it plain. Soon
both his food and water supply ran out. After three
days, he resolved to go to the monastery to obtain
food. However, upon leaving the cave he found a
sack of flour, which had been left by someone
unknown to him. He went to the monastery to ask if
they had brought the flour. But no one in the
monastery had thought about bringing him flour,
since the monks themselves had not enough to eat.
Fr. Hilarion then gave the monastery half of the
flour and took half for himself—mixing dough which
he ate either raw or cooked.
Then because of the adversary, open warfare began
to assail him and he moved from that cave to
Katounakia,[2] where he lived in many different
caves. In all he spent three and a half years in the
caves, enduring difficult temptations. In the course
of that time he ate neither bread nor anything
cooked, consuming only herbs, roots and chestnuts.

At this time he found no rest day or night. Those

who knew him said that when he lived in
Katounakia there did not remain a single place—
hardly a single rock—that he had not watered with
his tears during his vigils of prayer and unendurable
warfare. Preserving strict hesychia [stillness], he
saw almost no one, and if he would accidentally
meet some hermit, he would avoid him and not
break his silence.

During a period of the fiercest attacks of the enemy,

the elder spent forty days in a crucified position.
Neither eating nor drinking and almost without rest,
he conquered the enemy. The devil was enraged to
such a degree that in addition to natural fire, he
enkindled beneath him immaterial fire. Although
the elder was scorched, the evil one could not
vanquish the athlete's bravery. At other times the
enemy fell upon him and tempted him in various
ways, appearing in the guise of Moors, soldiers, and
wild beasts—all in order to tear the elder away from
prayer.

There were other trials. Due to the extreme

dampness in the cave nearly all his hair fell out. This
cave was sufficiently broad, but as it was
unprotected on one side the rain would pour in. To
the dampness was added hunger and illnesses—the
elder suffered from incessant colds and his feet
swelled.

Once during an illness his supply of water ran out.

Not having the strength to go down to the spring, he
started to pray. Just then God sent a rain cloud
which stopped over his cave, dropping enough water
to fill all his vessels.

One time a desert-dweller came to him. Having

spoken on spiritual topics, they ate some soft bread
that the desert-dweller had brought. He promised to
return soon to Fr. Hilarion, but was only able to visit
the elder a month later. Therefore, when he came he
asked forgiveness for being late.

Fr. Hilarion objected, "What are you talking about?

What four weeks? You were here yesterday and we
spoke about such and such." The elders argued for
several minutes, each proving his own point.
Remembering the soft bread that they had eaten the
previous day, Fr. Hilarion went to grab the
remainder to prove his point. Finding only stale
bread, hard as a rock, he was convinced that the
desert-dweller was right. This caused him to ponder:
he had spent all that time in spiritual rapture,
forgetting everything earthly.

During all this time the Lord God, Who provides for
His faithful servants, sent Fr. Hilarion everything he
needed. Once, after he had spent more than two
weeks without any food, the elder was so weak from
fasting that he could not move from his spot, and he
lay down to await death. By God's providence a
desert-dweller, who had bought sugar somewhere,
was walking with his bag near the elder's cave.
Along the road he desperately wanted a drink. Going
down to the spring which was below the elder's cave,
he decided to call on Fr. Hilarion. Entering the cave
he found the elder almost dead. Understanding that
this was due to extreme exhaustion, he poured a
little water into his mouth and, moistening some
sugar, he gave it to Fr. Hilarion to eat, thereby
saving his life.

Toward the end of Fr. Hilarion's third year of

residence in the cave, a monk who was gathering
snails entered the cave by accident. There, he found
the elder extremely wasted away. Learning that it
had already been fifteen days since Fr. Hilarion had
eaten, he fed him the snails. Then he went and told
everyone in the sketes about him. Soon everyone
learned where he was living, and from everywhere
they began to bring him food. Perceiving in him a
holy elder, they began to turn to him for counsel. At
first he tried not to admit anyone, but then he
decided to flee totally from men, loving stillness and
unceasing prayer.

8. Reclusion

Having resolved to go into seclusion, Fr. Hilarion

received a blessing from the Monastery of St. Paul to
shut himself in the tower of New Skete.[3] He spent
about three years there in reclusion.

For food he made use of dried bread or crusts and

ate once a day, and on Fridays he ate nothing. When
he had first come to Athos, the elder ate so much
that to him three pounds of bread a day was a small
amount. However, when he went into reclusion, in
imitation of St. Macarius the Great he would
crumble the dried bread into a narrow-mouthed
gourd, and eat only what he was able to draw out in
his hand. This would suffice for the entire day. Fr.
Gerasim of New Skete was appointed to assist the
elder. He would come every fortnight and bring Fr.
Hilarion the dried bread.

Likewise, the elder would allow himself only one

small cup of water each day. When Fr. Hilarion had
been living in the queen's palace in Russia he had
drunk an excessive amount of wine. After coming to
the Holy Mountain he would instead drink huge
amounts of water. Because of this, an abundance of
sweat was always dripping from him, so that he was
hardly able to change into a dry shirt before it would
also need changing. During Fr. Hilarion's sojourn in
the cave his confessor, Elder Neophytus
(Karamanlis),[4] seeing his excessive consumption
of water, restricted him and in a short time reduced
his consumption to one small cup per day. He told
him that self-will is not to our benefit, and that
excessive consumption of water leads invariably to
sickness.

He became fervent in making prostrations, which he

had never done while living in the palace, and slept
only two hours each night and later only one.

Amid such outward struggles, Fr. Hilarion

immersed himself in the sea of spiritual
contemplation and noetic prayer; consequently, a
bitter spiritual battle began. Many times hordes of
demons appeared to him like battle regiments.
Approaching the tower, they would scream, as if
laying siege, attacking the tower, but they were
unable to achieve their ends. Sometimes the entire
multitude would try to frighten the elder, crying out,
"Three sides have already been taken; there remains
one, but we'll take it." Another time a regiment of
demons appeared to him, but unable to cause him
harm they cried out, "Don't think you'll defeat us.
We'll bring you down in the end! We'll stir up all
men against you; we'll lead the Turks here and dig
out this entire spot so that not one stone will remain
upon another! Then we'll chase you out of here and
out of Athos as well!" To this Fr. Hilarion replied,
"Blessed be God! If it is God's will, then you can
devour me!" The demons, seeing the elder's
fortitude, cried out, "Do you know against whom
you have arrayed yourself and are contending?" At
that moment the top of the tower parted in two, and
the devil appeared in such gigantic stature that his
head seemed to touch the heights of the starry
heaven. Right then Fr. Hilarion turned to prayer and
the demon disappeared smitten by the power of
Christ's name.

Soon after Fr. Hilarion's arrival in the tower, Fr.

Gerasim came to him, carrying his food. Both
ascetics began to converse on soul-saving subjects.
Suddenly, they heard the heavy footsteps of a man
climbing up the staircase. His step was so heavy that
the walls of the tower shook with his every step.
Judging by the noise, a massive saber clanged
behind him as he ascended. They were
dumbfounded at how this man could have come in,
knowing that the doors of the tower were locked
from the inside. Suddenly, the doors flew wide open,
and a tall warrior entered, fully clad in armor from
head to foot. Unsheathing a massive sabre, he
threatened Fr. Hilarion with it, shouting, "Are you
taking up arms against me?"
Fr. Hilarion, startled by the sudden and frightful
appearance of the specter, recoiled against the wall.
Totally surrendering himself to God's will, he raised
his hands aloft and called upon the name of the
Lord, and the demon immediately vanished. Fr.
Gerasim, who had been present, remained
immoveable with fear. There were, however, also
times when the Lord allowed the demons to attack
the elder, and in their malicious wrath they would
beat him, leaving him nearly dead.

A short while after his move to the tower, his

spiritual father, Elder Neophytus—the only person
other than Fr. Gerasim allowed into the tower—
came and asked, "Why have you moved here,
abandoning your cave?" Fr. Hilarion replied that an
abundance of visitors had forced him to do so. The
confessor further questioned him, "How could you
have ventured upon such an exalted ascetic labor
without a blessing?" Fr. Hilarion said that since his
spiritual father had not been home at the time (Fr.
Neophytus was the confessor for all the desert-
dwellers in the region around Athos and often
journeyed through the wilds to confess and give
them Holy Communion), he had turned to his
former spiritual father, Abbot Stephen of Dionysiou,
and asked a blessing from him. He finished his
explanation by saying, "Everyone was glorifying me
there, and I came here, giving a vow to die here."

Once Fr. Hilarion wanted to learn how to conquer

sleep. He spent twelve days without sleeping and
thereby seriously harmed his health—tremors went
through his entire body. His head whirled so that
the entire world spun before his eyes and his mind
grew dark. Seeing the elder's condition, the ever-
cunning demon approached him and began to
suggest this thought: "See, you are already in
deception! Command them to tie a rope around
your neck and affix you to the wall; tell your disciple
to kill you, since you have lost your mind. You're of
absolutely no use to anyone."

Fr. Hilarion told Gerasim of the evil one's

suggestion when the latter next came to him. Fr.
Gerasim, unaware of what kind of ascetic labors he
had taken upon himself, replied that this was likely
due to sickness. Inquiring in detail into the elder's
health, he learned that he had not slept for twelve
days, and in cutting off sleep he could no longer fall
asleep. He gave the elder a little water to drink,
persuading him to be at peace. The latter, having
drunk a little, dozed off for several seconds. Then Fr.
Gerasim gave him a little more water and a little
piece of moistened dried bread. This proved much
more effective, in that the elder fell asleep for
several minutes. Thus, by drinking water and eating
a little food bit by bit, the elder was finally able to
sleep an entire hour and soon fully recuperated.

When Fr. Gerasim would bring Fr. Hilarion food

every fortnight, he would leave it in the
antechamber of the tower, and the elder would later
bring it inside. Once Gerasim forgot to bring the
designated portion. Fr. Hilarion went out to retrieve
the dried bread, but not finding anything, he said to
himself, "It seems that this trial has been sent to me
from God!" Although he could have called
passersby, he wished rather to rely on God's will. He
spent nine days thus, without diminishing his usual
ascetic labors. When these nine days had passed, he
grew weak and could no longer conduct his usual
prayer rule.

Crossing his arms, he sat on his mat and remained

the next six days in that position. After fifteen days,
Fr. Gerasim returned. He asked the elder if he was
well. The elder meekly answered that he was healthy
but he had become very weak. Only then did Fr.
Gerasim remember that he had brought neither food
nor water the previous time. He began to bitterly
reproach himself for such negligence. He
immediately wanted to feed the elder but it was
impossible, as the latter's lips were severely
parched. So, he heated some water, moistened some
crusts of bread in it and placed them in the elder's
mouth. Slowly the elder regained his strength. In
order that something similar would not happen
again, they arranged that in case of need Fr.
Hilarion would hang a towel from the tower
window.

Once the demons boasted that they would force him

out of the tower with snow, and during one frightful
winter storm the roof collapsed and the elder was
buried in snow. He spent three days under the snow
until the brethren of the skete dug him out. Finding
him half dead, they took him to the skete
guesthouse. With difficulty were they able to bring
him to his senses. They strongly urged him to
abandon his reclusion, but the elder would not
agree. Afterwards he suffered from rheumatism his
entire life. This had also been brought on by his
three years in the unheated, damp tower, which
leaked terribly. It was only due to the elder's strong
constitution that his reclusion did not lead him to
the grave.
Once three pilgrims from Anatolia (Asia Minor),
traveling past the skete by boat, were caught in a
powerful storm and despaired of being saved.
Knowing of Fr. Hilarion, they turned to the Lord in
prayer, asking Him to spare them "for the sake of
the holy elder's prayers." Immediately the storm
abated. Reaching the shore, the pilgrims went to
thank their benefactor, but coming to the tower they
found it locked. They began to beseech Fr. Gerasim
to open the tower for them and permit them to see
the elder, but he would not comply. Then, two of
them climbed into the tower window and opened
the door from within. They went inside and began to
climb up. Fr. Hilarion took them for demons and,
although usually quite fearless of anything, became
quite frightened. Thus did the Lord dispose,
demonstrating that without Him we can do nothing.

The pilgrims noticed the elder's fright. In order to

convince him that they were people, they went into
the adjoining church and began to pray and cross
themselves. Then they came to the elder, bowed and
kissed his feet, thanking him for deliverance from
drowning.

The pilgrims' visit created a great temptation for the

elder, and he decided to abandon his reclusion. The
demons gave him no rest, unceasingly suggesting to
him, "Look, you're a saint, you're already a miracle-
worker."

In order to humble the thoughts that arose, Fr.

Hilarion asked Fr. Gerasim to make known to all the
fathers that he had fallen into delusion, asking them
to say prayers by the prayer rope for him. This was
done, but the warfare did not abate. Next, Fr.
Hilarion asked Gerasim to tie his hands and lead
him around the cells of the skete as one mad,
requesting the prayers of the fathers. But this last
request Fr. Gerasim would not agree to fulfill.

Once a large group of pilgrims came to the skete

and, hearing about the recluse, wished to see him.
As the elder received no one, they were not
admitted. The pilgrims therefore decided to form a
human ladder, standing one on top of the other in
order to reach the window through which they
might see the elder and receive his blessing. Seeing
what the pilgrims had devised, Fr. Hilarion was
horrified, for the window was high above the
ground. If they attempted this, one of them could
have suffered a terrible death.

The elder faced a powerful interior battle. One

thought suggested to him to open the tower door
without fail so as not to become the cause of death
of those zealous "not according to knowledge" (cf.
Rom. 10:2). Simultaneously, a contrary thought
forbade him to break even once the rule he had
established, justifying himself that it was not his
fault that they had conceived this scheme. For
several minutes the elder's soul was torn, not
knowing how to decide. Finally, conquered by love
for his neighbors, he hastily unlocked the door, went
out, and hid. This breaking of the rule caused him to
wonder if he should return to the tower. To resolve
this doubt he turned to the skete's confessor, Fr.
Leontius, and revealed his thoughts to him. The
latter calmed him down and persuaded him not to
consider this departure from reclusion to be a
significant infraction of the vow, and advised him to
return.
The demons, taking advantage of this incident,
conducted a siege. One after another they began to
climb into the tower window in the guise of
pilgrims. They told the elder that they entered this
way because he forbade anyone to come inside. They
said they wanted so much to see him as one of their
compatriots, and that for his sake they had come
from a far country to take counsel about various
matters. Taking them for actual pilgrims he entered
into conversation with them, which was just what
the demons needed. They entangled him in a long
conversation about the poverty of his people and his
Church. They ended by physically beating him with
such violence that he lay dumb for two months.

The demons next attempted to delude the elder by

presenting to his imagination a vision that so much
snow had fallen in the courtyard that visitors could
freely walk into the tower on top of the snow. When
he saw this, a thought suggested to him: "Go away,
go away from here as fast as you can." But Fr.
Hilarion answered the thought aloud: "I will die, but
I will not leave!" And at these words the demons
vanished.

About this time, a hierarch came and wished to

speak with the elder for his spiritual benefit. No
matter how he entreated him to unlock the tower
door, the elder would not receive him. Grieved at
this, the bishop said loudly, "Look, you stylite, do
not fall into high-mindedness by your reclusion! You
have despised a bishop who came to you not out of
curiosity, but for spiritual profit; for this may the
Lord punish you!" Right after the departure of the
hierarch, as Fr. Hilarion was performing his prayer
rule, fire from heaven fell upon him. It scorched him
so that be became as it were outside himself—so
strong were the hierarch's words. The Lord had sent
this for the elder's spiritual benefit, as well as the
benefit of all who thirsted for his words of
experience.

At the end of his reclusion, Fr. Hilarion saw

numberless regiments of demons. Marching in a
vast array straight towards him, they extended all
the way from St. Paul's Monastery, thirty minutes
away. By God's allowance they beat the elder, as
they had Saints Anthony the Great, Abramius and
others, so that he barely remained among the living.
Within three days Fr. Gerasim came to bring him
food and found him lying half dead. Gerasim called
the other monks and they carried the elder to the
nearest cell. By their common efforts they brought
him to his senses.

When Fr. Hilarion awoke, he related this most

recent trial and asked that they take him back to the
tower. The fathers of the skete, however, would not
allow it. They called his friend Fr. Benedict and
asked him to mediate in the affair. After a long
conversation with Fr. Hilarion, he made it known to
him that he could no longer live in reclusion.
Everyone agreed with him. Accepting the common
voice of all the elders, Fr. Hilarion obeyed their
common decision. They settled him in the cell of St.
Charalampus, where Fr. Benedict cared for him.
Soon the elder began to recover. His entire back had
been flogged by the demons and he lay in bed for
two months. Although he suffered greatly in body, it
was his spiritual state that was in the greatest
danger.
Fr. Benedict, highly experienced in the ascetic life,
began to severely cut off Fr. Hilarion's will in
everything. Besides moving him into a cell, for the
elder's humility he made him eat food with oil, fish
and cheese. Fr. Hilarion was so wise and meek that
he obeyed his friend in everything without
contradiction, having faith in his discernment.

When he had recuperated from his illness, Fr.

Hilarion was transferred to the Dionysiou Cell of the
Holy Apostle James. There the elder acutely felt the
rheumatism he had contracted in the tower and
suffered greatly. Another difficulty came in the form
of divisions among the brethren concerning the
reception of Holy Communion. Several insisted that
the brothers commune of the Holy Mysteries each
week; others, every month; still others had different
ideas. There were disputes and everyone tried to
incline Fr. Hilarion to their side. This deeply grieved
the elder's peace-loving soul, and within two months
he moved to Iveron Monastery.

9. Residence in Iveron and Reception of Disciples

Fr. Hilarion settled in Iveron while still ill. As soon

as he recovered a little, he took charge of the
Georgian library, compiled a catalog, and made
extracts from the books and manuscripts. This work
was comprised of twelve volumes, and entitled The
Enlightener. This anthology, consisting primarily of
the Lives of the Saints, was eventually published in
the Georgian language.
After six months, the elder settled in the Skete of the
Forerunner, where Georgians had lived since the
eighth century. When asked why he had moved from
the tower to the skete, the elder replied, "Here I
have found true hesychia. All those who come to me,
I direct to the spiritual father of the skete, telling
them I am not a confessor but have come here to
weep over my sins." People still came to him, and so
he moved to the Cell of the Holy Archangels, which
had been expressly built for him by the monastery.

Two brothers came to him here and asked the elder

to receive them. Since settling on Athos they had
become disciples of an elder who had died within
three years of their arrival. He had left them a large
cell and a plot of land. Having lived for a short while
without an elder, they realized it was impossible to
live without spiritual guidance. The eldest of the two
entered Iveron Monastery, where he had been
invited since he was a talented calligrapher. The
younger, Sabbas (1821-1908), still remained alone in
the cell, for he sought an experienced elder. After
reports of Fr. Hilarion's ascetic endeavors had
spread throughout Athos, Sabbas decided to
approach him.

Upon arriving, Sabbas found the elder wearing

threadbare, oft-mended clothing that was soiled and
patched. His kamilavka [cylindrical monastic hat]
was in a similar state, and his hair and beard were
disheveled. When Sabbas asked the elder to receive
him as a disciple, Fr. Hilarion resolutely refused.
After unremitting pleas from Sabbas, the elder
relented, saying, "If you wish to join me, you must
observe these rules: You must not accept anything
from anyone, nor have any money; you must lead a
life of abstinence until your last days, being content
with xerophagy,[5] and the days and nights must
belong to prayer." With absolute eagerness Sabbas
agreed to everything and settled with him.
After six months his brother Macarius also joined
the elder. This Macarius was of a very firm
character, and, at the elder's command, he carried
out great ascetic labors, exhibiting the highest
degree of selflessness attained only by few. Devoting
himself to obedience, he totally cut off his will
before the elder in everything.

10. At the Cell of St. James

The Cell of the Holy Apostle James is situated on the

slope of the Holy Mountain, about one and a half
hours above Dionysiou Monastery. Here the elder's
illnesses became especially severe. At times he
would seclude himself in the isolated Cell of St.
Onuphrius.[6]

While living in the Cell of St. James, the elder did

not take upon himself the duty of confessor despite
all requests. He did, however, begin to receive those
who came to him for spiritual counsel. All who came
to him turned to him as to a confessor, but he would
not read the prayer of absolution over them. There
were only five people whom he absolved at different
times, being inspired to do so because of important
causes.[7]

People came from everywhere with spiritual

questions. They called him "the confessor of the
confessors." The fathers of the Holy Mountain
placed him on the highest spiritual level, calling him
"one of the ancients." They saw the elder's
transformation from a life full of worldly glory to his
present state: a desert-recluse, confessor, and great
ascetic. Because of this and the manifestations of
Grace in his life, they regarded him with the deepest
respect. His word carried authority without respect
of persons. Sometimes he spoke prophetically about
what was to happen and his word always came to
pass. The renowned ascetic of Athos, Fr. Eustathius,
who later lived in Halki, said that Fr. Hilarion
passed all ten steps of the spiritual ascent set forth
in The Philokalia by the Blessed Theophanes.[8]
In August 1849, the Russian writer and pilgrim,
Andrew Muraviev,[9] visited Fr. Hilarion. Muraviev
wrote about their meeting: "The elder was little
accessible. However, at Iveron Monastery I visited
another Georgian ascetic, Benedict. He instructed
me to knock in the name of Benedict on the door of
the recluse, his kinsmen and friend. Fr. Hilarion's
appearance, in spite of deep old age, was extremely
flushed. The color pink shone in his cheeks, but the
yellow of his hair and beard revealed his age. He
had, as it were, renewed his youth like the eagle's in
his lofty nest (cf. Ps. 102:5). The elder sat me beside
himself and, learning where I was from, asked about
Russia. 'What have you come to see in my
hermitage?' he asked me with a sigh. 'My sins? Or
are there so few parasites in the world like myself?
What I have seen and know has been forgotten long
ago. I will live here in this thicket as long as God
suffers me. However, for your humility it is
profitable that you visit the holy monasteries, for
there is always edification from labors undertaken
with a good aim.'
"I wanted to receive from him some kind of visible
sign of his blessing in remembrance of our meeting.
Elder Hilarion went into his chapel and brought out
a prayer rope made of what is referred to as black
Imeretian amber. 'If you desire a blessing of my
unworthiness, then may this accompany you.'
Having said this he dismissed me in peace."
Once Fr. Nikodim the Bulgarian from
Konstamonitou Monastery was visiting Fr.
Hilarion's cell with a certain hieromonk. They
conversed for so long on spiritual subjects that
unnoticeably the conversation was prolonged late
into the evening. When the conversation was
finished, the elder said to them, "Well, now go with
God." They were embarrassed, wondering where
they might go in such darkness, for the night was
moonless. But, reverently heeding the elder, and not
daring to disobey, they departed. They had only
gone out the door of the cell and begun to grope
their way along the steep and winding path, when a
light shone suddenly and everything became almost
as bright as day, and they easily managed to reach
Dionysiou.

During the time of the cholera epidemic, when

quarantines were instituted in the regions
surrounding Athos, a storm drove a skiff with
laymen in it to the shore of Dionysiou Monastery.
They wanted to come ashore, hoist the skiff out of
the sea and wait out the foul weather in the dockside
tower. But because of the epidemic, the watchman
in the tower could not let them ashore without
asking a blessing from the abbot. The latter ordered
that they not be allowed to come ashore, telling
them to sail into the quarantine zone in Daphne.

Those in the skiff explained that because of the

storm and nightfall, it was impossible for them to
reach Daphne. The monks categorically refused to
receive them, however, and shoved the skiff away
from the shore. In such conditions it took great
effort to reach the next monastery.
Several of the brothers became indignant with the
abbot for his actions, and went to Fr. Hilarion to
relate what had taken place. The elder calmed them,
adding that the Lord would punish the abbot in a
twofold manner. For his personal benefit, he would
be visited by such an illness that he would bellow for
three days like a cow. And, since many of the
brothers had taken part in this, another misfortune
would occur for the benefit of all.

In three days the abbot's throat became so afflicted

that he screamed like a cow and bellowed with a
voice not his own—for exactly three days. After his
recovery, several of the brothers were sent in a skiff
to catch fish with all the monastery nets on board.
The day was calm, but, suddenly, a violent
whirlwind blew and such a huge storm broke that
they all lay on the bottom of the boat as if they were
paralyzed. The skiff was dashed against the shore
and broken to pieces, while the fishermen
themselves were barely saved. Then another boat,
sent to rescue the first, also sank, capsized by the
storm.

In the Monastery of Dionysiou there was one monk,

a gardener, who due to the circumstances of his life
had lost hope of salvation and had thereby fallen
into despair. Once Fr. Hilarion sent Fr. Sabbas to
the monastery for a certain matter. En route he met
the gardener, who was on his way to part forever
with Mount Athos. When Fr. Sabbas asked his
reason for leaving, the monk replied that having lost
hope of salvation, he was enduring the afflictions of
the monastic life in vain. Therefore, he had decided
it was better to live untroubled in this life and hence
resolved to return to the world.
Fr. Sabbas began to persuade him to remain,
reassuring him and telling him to place all his hope
upon God and not despair of his salvation. The
gardener did not want to listen at first, but gradually
began to side with the thought that Fr. Sabbas was
right. He finally agreed to stay on the Holy
Mountain, but only under the condition that Fr.
Sabbas would take his sin upon himself. The latter
agreed by placing his hand upon his.

On his return, the devil began to get the better of Fr.

Sabbas, by instilling thoughts that it was beyond his
strength to have taken upon himself his brother's
sin. The thought drove him to fall into despair. It
urged him not to go to the elder but to go elsewhere.
At that time Fr. Hilarion learned in spirit that his
disciple was in danger and armed himself against
the devil for Fr. Sabbas' sake. Fr. Sabbas just then
felt an alleviation of thoughts and decided to return
to the elder, albeit with a heavy heart. Fr. Hilarion
met him on the road: "What has happened to you?
You left so joyful but have returned so sad. Don't be
afraid! The Lord had taken upon Himself the sins of
the whole world: would He really not will the
salvation of one man?" And Fr. Sabbas became
completely peaceful.

11. At Little St. Anne's Skete

An entry from the diary of the abbot of St.

Panteleimon's Monastery, Archimandrite Macarius:
"On January 8, 1857, Fr. Ioasaph, a Georgian monk
who lives with us, went to Dionysiou Monastery for
confession with the renowned ascetic of our days,
Hieroschemamonk Hilarion. At our monk's
departure I requested him to ask the elder to pray
that the Lord would grant me patience, and that if
my life would serve for God's glory, then may the
Lord prolong it, but if my life was unto my
detriment, that He shorten it.

"Fr. Hilarion's reply: 'Patience is acquired by hoping

in the Lord and considering oneself unworthy of
everything. People whom the Lord calls to serve
Him, out of humility consider themselves very weak,
both inwardly as before the Lord, and outwardly as
well: such people seek not their own glorification
but only God's majesty. Concerning people who seek
their own glory, they sacrifice everything that they
might obtain their goal—to exercise authority.' And
he promised to pray for me."

The envier of our salvation did not leave the elder

alone in Dionysiou, either. He raised a fierce
persecution against Fr. Hilarion through Abbot
Eulogius, who forced the elder to leave the
monastery and move to Little St. Anne's Skete.

Soon after his move to the Skete, Elder Hadji-

George[10] came to him and out of love for Christ
remarked, "You taught me patience, but you
yourself left!" "No," the elder meekly replied, "I
heeded only the Gospel which says: When they
persecute you in this city, flee ye into another (Mt.
10:23)."

During Fr. Hilarion's stay in Little St. Anne's Skete,

a memorable event occurred. The church of his cell
had been consecrated to St. Onuphrius and the altar
was in need of extensive repair, but the elder did not
want to disturb the monastery with a request for
help. The elder said, "During my lifetime I don't
want to trouble anyone for myself in any way. We
would also be obliged to summon a bishop—and
along with him his acolytes and chanter—for the
reconsecration of the altar table, all of which would
entail expenses. It would be better for us to endure
patiently, leaving the entire matter to the will of
God."

At this time a monk of the Great Lavra was in

Wallachia collecting funds. Walking through a
certain city, he met a woman who handed him
twenty ten-rouble notes. She asked him to take them
to Mount Athos to Elder Hilarion the Georgian at
the Cell of St. Onuphrius, adding that he presently
had need of them. Then this woman disappeared.

When this monk finished his collections, he

returned to Athos and immediately came to Fr.
Hilarion. Giving him the money, he remarked that
this woman was known to him. Fr. Hilarion, struck
with awe, said that he had never been to Wallachia
and knew no one there. Therefore, most likely he
was mistaken and the money had been sent to some
other friend. The monk explained that this woman
not only used his name but also the name of the
church for which the money had been designated.
Thus, he could not give the money to anyone other
than him. The elder absolutely refused the money.
He told the fund collector that, if he could not find
someone else with the same name, he could
distribute the money to the poor.

The monk related everything at the Great Lavra.

Since they already knew that the elder's church was
in need of rebuilding, the monastery council of
elders decided that the alms-gatherer should hire
craftsmen and arrange everything necessary. After
the renovation he was to invite the bishop and his
clergy and to hold a feast for the guests after the
consecration. He did all of this. At Fr. Hilarion's
request, the newly constructed church was
dedicated to the Resurrection of Christ.

12. Life at St. Panteleimon's Monastery

In 1862, Fr. Hilarion came to the Monastery of St.

Panteleimon[11] and announced that he wanted to
move there permanently. The monastery elders
received him and his disciple with joy. They asked
him to choose a deserted cell to inhabit until the Cell
of St. George was ready for him. The elder
temporarily settled in the Cell of the Holy Fathers of
the Kiev Caves, which had been built by the
monastery's former superior, Ambrose.

Fr. Hilarion had given this spiritual testament to his

disciple, Fr. Sabbas: never to eat food with oil or to
drink wine, but to serve the Liturgy daily and pray
for the whole world. When they lived together, they
unfailingly carried this out. Furthermore, they
passed every night in vigil. When both ascetics
moved to the Russikon, they observed the following
order: in the evening they did not sleep. After
everything had grown quiet, the elder would leave
his cell, and either cough, walk past his disciple's
cell, knock three times, or summon him for some
matter. He did all this so as not to allow Sabbas to
fall asleep during the time for vigil.

At midnight, the elder would leave his cell and begin

to walk about noisily, so that the brethren who lived
there might hear his footsteps and wake for Matins
—he never roused anyone by calling to them. The
brothers in the Cell of the Holy Fathers of the Kiev
Caves rose to perform their prayer rule, which lasted
until 8:00 a.m. and was followed by Liturgy. The
elder no longer served Liturgy but would always
receive Holy Communion.

The elder expressed himself poorly in Greek. Thus,

he would usually explain himself in Turkish, and
Sabbas would translate. Although he had known
Russian, he had completely forgotten it, not having
had any communication with Russians for more
than forty years. There were cases, however, when
he would begin to speak Greek and Russian very
well. This was not from a knowledge of the
languages, but due to inspiration from on high
(these were cases of extreme spiritual need). Once,
while he was still living in the Cell of the Holy
Fathers of the Kiev Caves, there also lived a Russian
monk, Fr. Thomas, a cabinetmaker, who served as a
sexton. He carried out his obediences with zeal. One
night a demon came to him in the form of a man
and said, "Why are you keeping wine in your cell?"
He replied that this wine was for church, and he did
not keep it for his own use. The demon then
demanded some wine and was ready to take it. Fr.
Thomas, grabbing the flask, started arguing and
became so enraged that he screamed that he would
not give him the wine. This scream woke everyone.
The elder knocked on his door, but Fr. Thomas, not
understanding anything, kept screaming that he
would not give him the wine. When he came to
himself and opened the door, all were greatly
troubled.

Fr. Hilarion took him to his cell and began to calm

him, explaining to him what had happened. The
elder said that the enemy had done this out of
jealousy since Fr. Thomas' ardent service had been
hateful to him. He conversed with him for a long
time until Fr. Thomas was totally at peace. Only in
the morning did he suddenly remember that they
had conversed in Russian. After the service, Fr.
Thomas approached the elder and wanted to speak
with him about what had happened, but Fr. Hilarion
resolutely stated he did not understand anything Fr.
Thomas said.

Fr. Thomas objected, "How's that? We spoke for so

long last night."

The elder replied through Fr. Sabbas, "I don't know

how I spoke, but the Lord, seeing your need, allowed
you to understand my speech as if I had spoken
Russian. But truly, I don't speak Russian."

In other instances he also spoke Greek through the

same state of Grace, when the occasion demanded.
[12]

In 1863, one year before his repose, the elder moved

into the Cell of St. George. The cell stands amidst an
olive grove and is located about one hour's walk
from the monastery.

About this time, the elder became mortally ill. His

bowels had become twisted and he could neither eat
nor drink. The doctor said the elder would die the
next day at a certain hour without fail. Fr. Hilarion
lay immoveable and moaned. All the elders and
brothers came to beg pardon. He, too, was
convinced this was the end, and so he parted with
everyone.
The next day, at the very hour that the doctor had
appointed for his death, Elder Hilarion came on foot
to the monastery to visit the sick Fr. Macarius. Upon
seeing him, everyone marveled. The elder's healing
had taken place in the following manner: When he
was already at his last breath and was lying on his
bed praying, he heard a voice from the icon of the
Savior: "Do you wish to remain among the living
and become well?"The elder, always obedient to
God's will, answered that he would submit to God's
providence. He was then told that he would be
granted life and health. Fr. Hilarion rose from the
bed absolutely healthy. In the morning, hearing of
Fr. Macarius' illness, he hurried to visit him.

In the Cell of St. George, a Russian cell-attendant

was assigned to them. He observed their daily
labors, all-night vigils and strict fasting. However, to
hide their asceticism, they sent him away to the Cell
of the Fathers of the Kiev Caves.

They cooked food only on Saturday and Sunday, and

that primarily for appearance. However, when Fr.
Hilarion had guests, out of deep discretion he did
not decline from treating them, and also ate
whatever they gave him. His disciple, however,
never broke the fast. On the day of Holy Pascha he
alone was given lenten food, and when the elder
returned to the cell from the Paschal services and
celebrations, he also observed the fast once more.

The elder slept only two hours a day, one hour

standing, leaning on a staff, and the second sitting
on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. To aid
him in practicing mental prayer through the entire
night, he had a special support constructed. Four
iron rings hung from the ceiling, and a towel was
tied on each side of the elder between two of the
rings. When he grew weak he could lean on the
towels. So that no one would comprehend the
purpose of these rings, the elder would hang his
laundry out to dry on them during the day.

Once Fr. Hilarion related an event that happened to

him, as if he were speaking about another person: A
certain monk was living in seclusion. Coming out of
his refuge, he saw a demon in the form of a monk
sitting and weeping so bitterly that one could
scarcely find a man capable of communicating such
sorrow. The recluse, treating him like a man, with
great sympathy asked the cause of this bitter
lamentation. The demon replied that he had been
imploring the Lord for thirty years to forgive him his
sin, but the Lord would not forgive him. Having said
this the demon began to groan and weep.

The monk attempted to console the mourner. After

he returned to his cell, however, an evil thought
began to pester him, inspired of course by the same
demon: "Here is a man who weeps over one sin and
entreats God for forgiveness and cannot propitiate
Him. And you have sinned from your youth; you
have sinned and continually angered God. What do
you expect for yourself? What are you living here
for, wasting your time in vain?"

But the merciful Lord did not permit his slave to fall
into the devil's snare. Right then the recluse heard a
voice, "Don't believe the demon who is tempting
you. Go out and tell him that not only would thirty
years of repentance placate the Lord for one sin, but
even if a man had upon him the sins of the whole
world and began to repent with all his soul, then the
Lord would accept three hours of repentance and
forgive the penitent. The Lord would receive even
you, satan, if you would but repent!"

Fr. Sabbas related the following story: Once a rabid

dog came to Athos. The officers, no matter how
much they tracked her, could not catch her. She
attacked cows and people. Once she came to the cell
of Fr. Hilarion. He caught sight of her through the
window and yelled to Fr. Sabbas to bring a rope.
However, since the word for "rope" in Turkish
sounds like the word for "dog," the disciple thought
that the elder had ordered him to bring the dog.
Without so much as deliberating, he ran out, caught
the dog by the ear and wanted to bring it to the
elder. The latter, on seeing her foaming at the lips
and her gleaming eyes, recoiled and ordered him to
let her go, rebuking his disciple. The dog fled
without touching Fr. Sabbas and was soon caught by
the police.

13. The Repose of Fr. Hilarion

From childhood Fr. Hilarion had possessed great

love for and fervent devotion to the Holy Great-
martyr George. Fr. Sabbas attested that the Saint
had appeared many times to Fr. Hilarion, protecting
him throughout the course of his life. Fr. Hilarion
had been baptized in a church dedicated to St.
George and had spent his childhood and youth in
monasteries dedicated to the Saint—the Tabakini
and Dzhruchi Monasteries. Thus, it was fitting that
his repose should occur under the Saint's protection,
in the Cell of the Holy Great-martyr George.

A day before his death, Fr. Hilarion allowed Fr.

Sabbas to go and serve Liturgy in the Cell of St.
Demetrius. The elder became worse at that time and
prayed. Simultaneously, Fr. Sabbas heard the elder's
voice calling him, "Sabbas, Sabbas!" When Sabbas
returned he found the elder totally enfeebled. On the
next day, February 14, 1864, the elder reposed,
having reached his eighty-eighth year.[13]
The elder, foreseeing that the monks of the
Russikon would honor him as a saint, had
commanded Fr. Sabbas to secretly carry away his
body and bury it in a place unknown to the
Russians. Thus, one night Sabbas took the relics and
it is believed that he buried them at Iveron
Monastery in the Skete of the Forerunner, where the
elder had once labored. Fr. Sabbas revealed the
location of his grave only to a few of the elder's close
friends.

One of these, Fr. Bessarion the Georgian, a disciple

of Fr. Benedict, wanted to pray at the elder's grave.
The night before he was to do this, Fr. Benedict
appeared to him in his sleep and asked, "Where are
you planning to go?" He replied that he was going to
Fr. Hilarion's grave, over whose loss he wept
inconsolably. Fr. Benedict objected that Fr. Hilarion
had not died—so why go to his grave? Fr. Bessarion
began to argue, but Fr. Benedict continued to insist
that Fr. Hilarion had not died but was still living,
and asked him not to believe rumors. Fr. Bessarion
in his grief finally said, "Why, father, are you
mocking me?" Fr. Benedict then said, "Fr. Hilarion
lives and is now with St. Athanasius of Mount
Athos." At this Fr. Bessarion woke up and felt within
him a surge of joy. Coming to the grave of Fr.
Hilarion, he related to Fr. Sabbas all that he had
seen in his vision.
To whomever had faith in the elder, much was
revealed. For more than fifteen years Schemamonk
Nikodim the Bulgarian had always gone to Fr.
Hilarion for confession. On the day of the elder's
repose, the thought came to Fr. Nikodim: Why had
he, going for so many years to the elder, not once
asked him to read the prayer of absolution over
him? Fr. Nikodim decided to ask him the next time
he went. The next day, however, he learned that Fr.
Hilarion had reposed, and he greatly grieved.

Three days later, after fervent prayer for the

deceased, Fr. Nikodim fell into a light sleep an hour
before Matins. Fr. Hilarion appeared to him
majestically, radiantly and joyfully, saying, "Don't
grieve that I never read the prayer, but go to Fr.
Sabbas, and he will read it for you in my stead."
Then Fr. Nikodim immediately grabbed his
rucksack and walked the familiar path to the Cell of
St. George. Arriving, he found Fr. Sabbas sitting in
church, wearing an epitrachelion [priest's stole], and
holding a thick book. Fr. Sabbas turned to him and
said, "I've been waiting for you! The elder ordered
me to read the prayer of absolution over you." Fr.
Sabbas then stood and read the prayer from
the Book of Needs.
Before his death Fr. Hilarion said to the elder of the
Russikon, "Don't assign the cell to Fr. Sabbas. He
doesn't want to live here and he won't. He's
accustomed to life at Little St. Anne's, so I'm letting
him go there." Fr. Sabbas did just that: soon after
the elder's repose he returned to the Cell of the
Resurrection of Christ, where he lived until his
death in 1908.
By 1867 rumors about the state of the elder's relics
had spread over Mount Athos. Fr. Sabbas, desiring
to dispel these idle tales, determined to open the
grave of Fr. Hilarion. He sent four people to uncover
and transfer the relics but remained by himself in
his cell to pray. At the Ascension Vigil, May 25, the
monks unearthed the bones of Fr. Hilarion. During
the opening of the relics they smelled a wonderful
fragrance, which continued during the entire
procession across the peninsula to Little St. Anne's
Skete. There in his disciple's cell such fragrance
flowed forth that everyone present was amazed—
four Russian and seventy-four Greek monks.

After the transfer of the relics one desert-dweller

had a vision: in brightest daylight, at five o'clock
Byzantine time, he saw a sphere in the likeness of a
sun in the cell of Fr. Sabbas. The sphere sent forth
rays of light and was lifted in the air directly above
the cell. This lasted about an hour. The monk who
had seen this wished to tell others about the vision,
but as soon as this thought appeared, the sphere
vanished. He concluded it must be the uncovered
relics of Fr. Hilarion. Moved by love for the reposed,
he hurried to Fr. Sabbas to relate to him what he
had seen, and Fr. Sabbas in turn told him of the
uncovering of the relics, showing them to him.

From: The Orthodox Word, Nos. 23—231

(abbreviated). Published with permission.
Hieromonk Anthony (Torp)
2/28/2012

[1] Not to be confused with the St. Hilarion the Georgian (f875) who
labored one thousand years earlier, was born in Eastern Georgia, and
reposed in Thessalonica. Imeretia is located in western Georgia.
[2] Imeretia is located in western Georgia.
[3] The Tabakini Monastery is located on a hill above a
picturesque valley near the Adjamra river, twenty-one
miles east of Kutaisi. The tall Basilica of St. George was
built in the seventh century, and later the southern and
northern aisles were added. The church is adorned with
well-preserved frescoes from the early sixteenth century in
a regional folk style with a Persian influence.
Tabakini Monastery was again revived in the early 1990s
by Abbot Jacob and Hieromonk Barachiel.
[4] In the world Archimandrite Gerontius was Prince Solagashvili. He
had lived in the Dzhruchi Monastery of St. George, which was founded
in the year 900 and is located in the Dzruchula River Gorge, about
seventy miles east of Kutaisi.
[5]
[6] The Georgian verses carved on his mausoleum end with
these poignant lines: "Overcome by sorrow, struck down
by sickness, after confessing my sins and receiving the
Holy Sacrament from my confessor Ise, priest of the Court
of Imereti, I have been laid to rest in a hallowed place,
where my sepulchre will be sprinkled every month with
holy water.
"Stranger, see where a stranger is buried, visit here a king.
Whoever of my family comes to Trebizond, see a king, a
king lying here. Ask forgiveness for him, and the Kingdom
of Heaven."
[7] Metropolitan Seraphim (Glagolevsky) (1763-1843) of Moscow
(1819-1821) and later St. Petersburg (1821-1843).
[8] In ancient times Georgian monks had lived in Palestine, Sinai,
Syria, Antioch, Asia Minor, Mount Athos, Thrace, Bulgaria, and
Cyprus.
[9] Fr. Benedict was from the Kutaisi region and the son of a village
priest. He succeeded his father as priest of the village. His brother was
a courtier of King Solomon II. Both of them went to Turkey with King
Solomon II when he was driven from his throne. Fr. Benedict settled
on the Holy Mountain in 1816—first at St. Panteleimon's Monastery,
then at Dionysiou Monastery, and later at Iveron Monastery. He was
ecclesiarch in the Portaitissa chapel at Iveron. He settled in the Cell of
the Prophet Elias in about 1834 with his disciple Basil, later Elder
Bessarion (1807-1893). Fr. Benedict reposed on March 9, 1862.
[10] This icon of the Virgin, called "Our Lady of the
Portal," Portaitissa in Greek, came miraculously to Mount Athos in the
tenth century and is considered one of the most sacred treasures of the
Holy Mountain. Until the seventeenth century the icon was kept above
the monastery gates in a separate chapel. In 1680 the icon was moved
to the present freestanding chapel, built in honor of the Virgin Mother
of God, located just inside the main entrance. It was erected by the
Georgian prince Ashot Mukhran-Bagrationi.
[11] Iera Kinotis—the Sacred Assembly of the representatives of all the
ruling monasteries of Mount Athos, which functions as a governing
and decision-making body for the monastic republic.
[12] The Armenian Church is monophosyte.
[13] In reprisal for the Athonite monks' support of the Greek
Insurrection, Turkish garrisons were housed on the Holy Mountain at
the expense of the monasteries.
[14] Located at the southwestern tip of the Athonite peninsula,
between the Sketes of St. Anne and St. Basil.
[15] New Skete is a dependency of the Monastery of St. Paul and is
located on its land.
[16] See Elder Paisios of Mount Athos, Elder Hadji-Georgis the
Athonite, (Thessalonica: Holy Convent of the Evangelist
John the Theologian, 1996), pp. 80-84.
[17]Xerophagy: A diet consisting of only vegetables and
grains cooked without oil.
[18] Later this was renamed the Cell of the Holy Resurrection. It is
located at the top of Little St. Anne's Skete.
[19] Because of the elder's strict adherence to the canons, few could
bear the heavy penances he would have dispensed. Realizing this, the
elder found it more profitable to receive people for revelation of
thoughts, help them through spiritual counsel, and send them to a
confessor for the Sacrament of Confession.
[20] "The Ladder of Divine Graces" in The Philokalia, vol. 3
(London: Faber and Faber: 1984), pp. 66-69.
[21] Aclose friend of St. Innocent of Alaska and St. Philaret,
Metropolitan of Moscow, Andrew Muraviev wrote many books about
his pilgrimages to holy places, including Greece, the Holy Land, the
Caucasus and Northern Russia.
[22] Elder Hadji-George (Georgis) was renowned as one of the
strictest ascetics of Mount Athos in the nineteenth century.
[23] Also known as the Russikon, St. Panteleimon's Monastery is the
only Russian representative among the twenty governing monasteries
on Mount Athos. In 1856 Fr. Hilarion developed a close spiritual bond
with Fr. Jerome, the renowned elder and confessor of St.
Panteleimon's Monastery. Fr. Jerome would walk to Little St. Anne's
Skete every year and visit Fr. Hilarion.
[24] A similar occurrence took place in the life of a contemporary
Greek elder, Fr. Porphyrios. For a description and an explanation of
this gift, see Constantine Yiannitsiotis, With Elder
Porphyrios (Athens: The Holy Convent of the Savior, 2001),
pp. 131-49.
[25] Here it is appropriate to relate Fr. Hilarion's teaching on prayer
for the reposed. One Russian monk, Fr. Barsanuphius, was once with
Elder Euthymius in the Skete of St. Anne. Their conversation touched
upon the death of a certain monk. Unexpectedly, Fr. Euthymius broke
into tears and said, "Fr. Hilarion told me that when you hear of the
death of someone, you are to leave aside your prayer rule or any
concerns for your own soul, and pray and weep over that soul which is
passing through the toll-houses. For we still remain among the living
and can repent, but the soul of a deceased person can no longer do
anything for itself and is in extreme need of prayerful aid."