the extraordinary, often contradictory, but apparently logical results arrived at from a common starting-point.
From its inception the Raskol seemed doomed to early extinction. The Old Believers originally rebelled in support of ancient rites and ceremonies, and from the first they were confronted by an obstacle fitted to deter men of less enthusiasm or of weaker faith. The only bishop who shared their views, when they rejected Nikon's reforms, was Paul of Kolomna; he was exiled, and died without having consecrated any successor in his episcopal office. The Raskol, thus left without a head, without a bishop to renew and perpetuate its priesthood, without officers to administer the rites which it had been created to defend, seemed paralyzed from its birth. In the opinion of its adherents the Raskol was not merely a doctrinal system that could be propagated by ordinary teachers, it was the true original Church of divine institution, now purified of error, establishing the connection between man and God by the intermediary of a divinely appointed priesthood, capable of transmitting, in regular apostolic succession, the powers received from its Great High Priest. By the bereavement it suffered at the death of its only bishop, all connection with Christ was severed; its mission was frustrated before it had commenced; the reason for its existence and the possibility of its continuance were destroyed by the loss of the sacred authority, without which, as they themselves at first believed, there could be neither Church nor clergy. The difficulty seemed insurmountable, but they had gone too far to recede, and religious enthusiasm stimulated their ingenuity. Two paths only were open; the more exalted and extreme of their number chose the one, the more conservative followed the other, and schism arose within the schism almost at its inception.
