KIRILLOV, Northern Russia -- One of Russia's largest and most beautiful cultural treasures stands in glorious isolation on this barely accessible spot about 400 kilometers north of Moscow and a two-hour bus ride from the city of Vologda. The ancient Kirillo-Belozersky Monastery -- a fabulous white-brick ensemble with more than two kilometers of intricate walls and a host of towers, churches and other buildings -- has endured centuries of floods, storms, sieges and neglect. Each time, however, against all odds, it has miraculously survived -- a process of rebirth that is being repeated now.


Once a revered destination of pilgrims, the monastery now receives fewer and fewer visitors each year. Inflation and apathy have cut sharply into the number of Russian tourists who venture this far north. In the early 1980s, more than 300,000 people strolled these sacred grounds each year; now that figure has fallen to less than 50,000, mostly foreign tourists. In fact, one recent sunny afternoon found considerably more construction workers at the site than tourists.


The monastery has had a long and difficult history. St. Kirill originally sought out this lonely place in order to find complete spiritual solitude. With time, however, his piety became renowned and he attracted a considerable following. Almost against his will, he founded the monastery in 1397. Gradually, it became one of the most important cultural sites in Russia, especially known for its library of more than 2,000 manuscripts. In 1611-12, the monastery held off a bitter seige by Lithuanian knights, but by the middle of the 18th century it was in serious decline. At one point the church even condemned it to destruction.


Somehow, though, a few monks continued to live there, forgotten even by the church. When Princess Maria Tenisheva visited the monastery at the beginning of this century, she found only "about 20 drunken, good-for-nothing monks there."


While the site may have been well-chosen from the spiritual point of view, it was a engineering disaster. Built close to the river, the monastery has suffered periodic flooding throughout its history, and the region's treacherous winters have visibly scarred and pitted the stone. The soggy ground is notoriously unstable: "We still do not know how they managed to build here at all," said museum director Galina Ivanova.


Nonetheless, Ivanova leads a hearty group of dedicated restorers who continue to wage the battle. "There are no ruins here," she bristles at the suggestion that the monastery is in bad shape. She has good reason to take offense, having devoted the last 24 years of her life to restoring the landmark and having seen what the place used to look like.


The state took over the monastery in 1924, immediately beginning emergency repairs that lasted 50 years. "Only in 1974 could we begin work on a general plan for the restoration," Ivanova said. However, from the beginning, funding was hard to come by. "All the resources went to Suzdal and Zagorsk in order to attract tourists to Moscow," complained Ivanova.


This year the state allocated 720 million rubles to the monastery, but that sum has not been indexed for inflation and so far less than half has actually been received. Moreover, restoration crews must pay taxes like other construction companies, even though they work almost exclusively for state-funded projects and make virtually no profit. "The tax system seems intended to destroy all the restoration units, and our local collective is likely to close any day now," Ivanova said. The Church has shown some -- but surprisingly little -- interest in getting the monastery back. In cooperation with the museum, a small church was opened for services last year, but for now the Church seems satisfied to let Ivanova and her team contend with the difficulties of the restoration.


And the results of their efforts are plainly visible. In fact, in comparison with the town of Kirillov, with its rundown buildings and abandoned churches, the monastery is brimming with life and possibilities. The construction work is intense during the long days of Kirillov's short summer. The monastery's high walls -- with a lacy, two-story walkway of connecting arches all along the inside -- and towers are in good condition. The cathedral founded by St. Kirill is encased in scaffolding and intense restoration is going on inside. The pleasant central museum is staffed by people who obviously love their work. "That isn't too much, is it?" asked the ticket seller as she sheepishly collected the 1,500 ruble entrance fee for foreigners. No, it wasn't.