[1019A.D.]
Sviatopolk, who claimed a divided parentage between Vladimir and Iaropolk—being the son of the widow of the latter, who on the murder of her husband was forced to live with the former, she being already pregnant—was at Kiev when the news of Vladimir’s death arrived. He had long indulged in a project for seizing the throne, which was favoured in its formation by the increasing imbecility of his father, whose death now ripened it into action. His ambitious schemes embraced a plan for securing the sole monarchy, by obtaining the grand princedom first, and then by artifice or treachery to put his brothers out of the way, so that he might thus reorganise under the one head the divided and independent governments. The moment had now arrived when this violent scheme was to be put into execution. His brother Boris, who was employed with the army against the Petchenegs, was the first object of his hate and fear, because his good qualities had so strongly recommended him, that he was the most popular of the brothers, and the most likely to gain the ascendency through the will of the people. There was but one sure method to get rid of this formidable rival, and Sviatopolk did not hesitate to adopt it. When the intelligence of his father’s decease reached Boris, he declared that the throne devolved properly upon the elder brother, and rejected the unanimous offer of the soldiery to assist in placing him upon it. This noble insensibility to the general wish alienated his troops, and exposed him to the designs of his treacherous rival. The assassins who were commissioned to despatch him found easy access to his tent, and having first slain a faithful Russian who threw himself before the person of his master, they soon effected their horrible purpose.
Two other brothers met a similar fate. Gleb was informed by letter that his father was ill, and desired his return. On his way he was so injured by a fall from his horse as to be forced to continue his journey in a litter. In this state he learned that Sviatopolk had issued orders for his murder, which, tempted probably by the reward, were carried into effect by his own cook, who stabbed him with a knife in the breast. Both Gleb and Boris were afterwards sainted, which appears to have been the last compliment paid by the Russians to their ill-used princes. These villainies alarmed a third brother, who fled to Hungary; but the emissaries of the triumphant assassin seized him in his flight, brought him back to the capital, and put him to death.
The way to the throne was now tolerably well cleared. Sviatopolk I found no further difficulty in assuming the government of Kiev, and calling in such of the tributary provinces as his recent excesses either terrified into submission or reduced within his control. But the most powerful opponent yet remained to be subjugated.
Iaroslav, prince of Novgorod, alarmed and outraged by the cruelties of his brother, and apprehending that, unless they were speedily arrested, they would spread into his own principality, determined to advance upon Kiev and make war on the usurping fratricide. The Novgorodians, to whom he was greatly endeared by the wisdom and mildness of his sway, entered so warmly into the expedition, that the tyrant was driven out of Kiev without much cost of blood, and obliged to flee for refuge to his father-in-law, the duke of Poland. At that period Poland was resting from the ruinous effects of a disastrous and straggling campaign in Germany which had considerably reduced her power, and curtailed her means of satisfying the ambition of her restless ruler. The representations of Sviatopolk rekindled the ardour of the Poles, who, animated as much by the desire of recovering those provinces whichVladimir had formerly wrested from Miecelsas, as by the prospect of ulterior aggrandisement, readily fell into the proposals of the exiled prince to make an attempt for his restoration to the throne. Boleslav at the head of a powerful force, advanced into Russia. Iaroslav, however, apprised of the movements of the enemy, met them on the banks of the Bug, prepared for battle. The army of Boleslav lay at the opposite side. For some time the invader hesitated to ford the river under the fire of the Russian soldiers; and might, probably, have returned as he came, had not a petty occurrence excited his impetuosity, and urged him forward. A Russian soldier one day, while both armies lay inactive within sight of each other, stood upon the bank of the river, and with gesticulations and bold language mimicked the corpulent size and gait of the Polish duke. This insult roused the spirit of Boleslav, who, plunging into the water, and calling on his men to follow, landed in the face of the Russians at the head of his intrepid troops. A long and well-contested action took place, and tardily closed in favour of the Poles, who, flushed with victory, pursued the fugitives to the walls of the capital. Sviatopolk was now reinstated in his throne, and Iaroslav, disheartened by defeat, made his way to Novgorod, where, doubtful even of the fidelity of his own people, he prepared to cross the Baltic in order to get beyond the reach of his brother. The Novgorodians, however, were faithful, and proved their attachment to his person by taking down the rigging of the vessels which had been got in readiness for his departure, and by levying contributions amongst themselves for the purpose of enabling him to procure auxiliary troops to assist in the recovery of the grand principality.
Iaroslav I(Died 1054)
Iaroslav I
(Died 1054)
In the meantime, Sviatopolk was unconsciously facilitating his own downfall. After the Poles had helped him to re-establish himself, he began to feel the oppressive superiority of their presence, and plotted a base design to remove them. He instigated the inhabitants and the soldiery to conspire against the strangers, and massacre them in the midst of their security. Boleslav discovered the plot before it had time to be carried into execution; and, disgusted at a design so cruel and treacherous, he resolved to take ample revenge. The capital was plundered of its accumulated wealth by the incensed Poles, who, but for the moderation of their leader, would have burned it to ashes; and, loaded with treasures, they returned towards the Russian frontiers. Sviatopolk was artful enough to turn the whole transaction to the discredit of his ally, and thus to rouse the courage of his followers, who were easily persuaded to take the field against Boleslav. The belligerents met on the banks of the Bug before the Poles had passed the boundaries. The battle that ensued terminated in the discomfiture ofSviatopolk, who now returned with broken fortunes to the capital which he had so lately entered with acclamations of triumph. This was the opportunity for Iaroslav to appear with his followers. The usurper’s troops were so reduced by his late disasters, that he was forced to seek assistance from the Petchenegs, the hereditary enemies of the country; and they, tempted by hopes of booty, flocked to his standard to resist the approach of Iaroslav. The armies met on a plain near the place where Boris had been assassinated by the command of the fratricide. The coincidence was fortunate, for Iaroslav, taking a prudent advantage of the circumstance, employed all his eloquence in describing to his soldiers the righteousness of the cause in which they were engaged against a second Cain, the shedder of a brother’s blood. His oration, concluding with a fervent prayer to the Almighty to nerve his arm, and direct his sword, so that he might be made the instrument of reparation in so just a fight, wrought powerfully upon the assembled army, and excited them to an unexampled display of bravery. The advantage of numbers was on the opposite side; but such was the courage exhibited by the Novgorodians, that after a desperate battle, which lasted throughout the whole day, they succeeded in putting the enemy completely to flight. Sviatopolk took to horse and fled, but died in a wretched condition on the road.
The zeal and bravery of the Novgorodians were not forgotten by Iaroslav when he ascended the throne and concentrated the sole dominion in himself. His first attention was directed to the revision of the ill-constructed laws of their city, and to the grant of certain franchises, which had the effect of procuring unanimity amongst the inhabitants, and of establishing the peaceful arts and commercial interests of the place upon a sure and solid foundation. He at once evinced a capacity for legislation beyond the abilities of his most distinguished predecessors, and set about the labours of improvement in so vigorous a temper, and with so much aptitude for his objects, that the happiest results sprang up under his administration in all parts of the empire.
But it was not in the destiny of the age in which he lived to permit such extensive benefits to progress without interruption. His brother Mstislav, the seventh son of Vladimir, a warrior distinguished in his wars against the Kossoges, discontented with the enlarged authority that the grand princedom vested in the hands of Iaroslav, transmitted to him a petition praying of him to cede to him a part of the fraternal appanage which he governed. Iaroslav partially assented to the request, by granting to his brother the small territory of Murom. This grant was insufficient to satisfy Mstislav, who immediately equipped an army and proceeded to wage an offensive war against the monarch. In this war the invader was successful, but he was not ungenerous in his triumph; for when he had vanquished the grand prince, he restored to him so large a portion of his possessions that the empire became equally divided between them. In this league of amity the brothers continued to govern for seven years, during the remainder of the life of Mstislav; and at his death the colossal empire, with all its appanages, reverted to the hands of Iaroslav.
It is in this part of his reign, and in this memorable period in the annals of the nation, that we find the first development of justice in Russian legislation, and the first application of philosophy to the management of public affairs. Although Iaroslav’s career commenced with war, and although he extended his arms into Finland, Livonia, Lithuania, and Bulgaria, and even penetrated into Byzantium, yet it was not by war that the glory of his name or the ability of his rule was to be accomplished. His wars could hardlyclaim the merits of conquests; and in some instances they terminated in such vague conclusions, that they resembled drawn battles on which much treasure had been lavished in vain. In Greece he was routed. He was driven before the soldiers of Sviatopolk, and forced to surrender at his own gates to the victorious Mstislav. His utmost successes amounted to preservation against aggression; and so indifferent was he to the barbarian mode of elevating the empire by wanton and hazardous expeditions into the neighbouring countries, that on most of those occasions he entrusted the command of his army to his lieutenants. It is necessary to explain that part of his character, in order that the loftiness of his nature may be the more clearly understood.
At this period the Russian Empire comprehended those enormous tracts that lie between the Volga and the lower Danube, and stretch from the Black Sea to the Baltic. This accumulation of territory was not the work of a progressive political system; it was not accomplished by the growth of a powerful government or by the persevering pursuit of co-operating interests, and the increasing circles of acquisition were in a constant state of dismemberment, separation, and recall. The surface of the land from the days of Rurik was overrun by revolutions. The marauder, legalised by his tribe, haunted the forest and devastated the populous places, carrying away with him plunder, or usurping authority wherever he remained. The feudal system, introduced by the Scandinavians as a provision for troublesome leaders, was carried to excess. The nominal head was disavowed and resisted at will; and the subordinate governments made war upon each other, or joined in schemes of rapine, with impunity. The maintenance of each fief seemed to depend upon civil war; and the office of the grand prince was not so much to govern the dominions he possessed, as to keep, if he could, the dominion he was called upon to govern.
Russia, combining these gigantic outlines of territory, was now, for the second time, united under one head; but, for the first time, under a head that could discern her necessities, and provide for them. Her civilisation was in progress, but it wanted the impetus of knowledge, and the control of law. The reign of the sword had done its work: what was required was the reign of justice and wisdom to improve and consolidate the triumphs and acquisitions of the barbarian era. In Iaroslav, Russia found a prince whose genius was adapted to her critical circumstances. He effectually raised her from obscurity, and placed her for a time amongst the family of European states. He made her church independent, increased the privileges of the people, facilitated the means of instruction, and elevated her national dignity by contracting domestic alliances with the most powerful countries. His sister was queen of Poland; his three daughters-in-law were Greek, German, and English princesses; and the queens of Norway, Hungary, and France were his daughters. But these were the least memorable evidences of his greatness. He gave Russia a code of laws, which was more valuable to her than the highest connections, or the most ambitious accessions of dominion.
This code must be judged in reference to the times in which it was enacted and in comparison with the formless mass of confused precedents it superseded. The existence of commercial cities in Russia so far back as the invasion of Rurik, may be accepted as presumptive proof that there were not wanting some regulations to render individuals amenable to the common good. But these were merely the rude precepts of the hunting and agriculturalnations matured into a stronger form, and adapted to the wants of the commercial community. When the Scandinavians subjugated the aborigines, the languages, customs, and laws of both fell into still greater confusion by admixture. When each was imperfect, it was unlikely that a forcible intermixture would have improved either, or led to the harmonious union of both. It is to be observed, too, that none of the nations that made up the population possessed written laws; so that whatever notions of legislation they entertained, were constantly liable to the fluctuations of capricious opinion, and were always subject to the interpretation of the strong over the weak. Where there were no records there was but little responsibility, and even that little was diminished by the character of the rulers and the lawlessness of the ruled. The exclusive attention of the princes being of necessity confined to the most effectual methods of preserving their sovereignties, of enlarging their domains, and of exacting tributes, it was natural that the unsystematic and crude usages that prevailed should fall into further contempt, and, instead of acquiring shape and consistency from experience, become still more oppressive, dark, and indecisive.
It was this matter of incongruities that Iaroslav cast out; supplying its place with a series of written laws, in which some sacrifices were made to popular customs, but which, on the whole, was an extraordinary boon to a people that, like mariners at sea without a compass, were tossed about in a tumult of uncertainty and perplexity. Had Iaroslav been a mere soldier, like the majority of his predecessors, he would have employed his talents in the field, and directed the enormous physical means at his command to the purposes of a wild and desolating ambition. But his policy was in advance of the heathen age: it restrained boundless licentiousness, created immunities, protected life and property, bestowed rewards, enacted punishments, established safeguards and facilities for trade, and expounded and confirmed those distinctions of ranks in which a community on a large scale recognises the elements of its permanency. He had the magnanimity to forego vulgar conquests for the higher conquest of prejudices and ancient habits. The people, probably fatigued with the restlessness of their mode of life, and yearning after repose and settlement, rendered now more necessary by the rapid increase of their numbers, received his laws with gratitude.
A short outline of the leading provisions of these laws will form a curious and valuable commentary upon the character of the grand prince, and the actual state of the people at this period (1018). The first article of the code empowers the friends of a murdered man to take satisfaction upon the murderer; constituting the law as the public avenger only in cases where there are no friends to take their vengeance in kind. In the event of there being no relatives to take the revenge into their own hands, the law goes on to enact that the assassin shall pay into the public treasury a certain fine, according to the rank of his victim. Thus, for the murder of a boyar, or thane of the prince, the mulct was fixed at the highest penalty of eighty grivnas;[8]for a page of the prince, his cook, or other domestics, for a merchant, for the sword-bearer of a boyar, and for every free Russian, without distinction of origin, forty grivnas; for a woman, half the usual fine: no fine for killing a slave; but if killed without sufficient cause, the value to be paid to the master: for a serf belonging to a boyar or free Russian, five grivnas to the owner; for the superintendent of a village, an artisan, schoolmaster, or nurse, twelve grivnas; for a female servant, six grivnas to the master, and twelve to the state.
From these penalties a correct estimate may be formed of the principles upon which the social fabric was erected. In all these provisions the rich were favoured above the poor, the strong above the weak. The life of a woman, because her utility in a barbarous community was rated according to its menial value, was fixed at half the worth of a man’s, to be proportioned according to her station. The murder of a slave was not visited with any penalty whatever; the exception constituting, in fact, the privilege to kill a slave at pleasure. Slavery was carried to extremity in Russia. Prisoners of war and their posterity were condemned to perpetual slavery; the poverty of the soil, and the oppression of its lords, forced many to sell their freedom for limited periods; insolvent debtors became slaves by law; and all freemen who married slaves unconditionally, participated in their servitude.
Yet, degrading as these institutions must be considered, it appears that the rights of the person were scrupulously maintained. Thus this code enumerates penalties for striking a blow, describes the different degrees of the offence, and regulates the responsibility accordingly. The distinctions drawn between the different modes of striking are singular, and help to show that, ill as the Russians could appreciate public liberty, they had a jealous sense of that individual respect which, in modern Europe, is called the point of honour. The penalty for striking a blow with the scabbard or handle of a sword, with the fist, a stick, cup, or goblet, was twelve grivnas—equal to the fine for murdering an artisan or a schoolmaster. If the blow was struck with a club, which, we presume, was considered a plebeian weapon, the penalty was only three grivnas. But the most characteristic penalty was that of twelve grivnas for pulling a man by the beard, or knocking out a tooth. The origin of this law may be easily traced to the Goths and Germans, who were rigid in the preservation of their hair, to which they attached extraordinary importance. In the same spirit was the enactment that prohibited the making use of a horse without the permission of the owner, and that visited with imprisonment for life the crime of horse-stealing. This legal protection of the horse is still preserved in the Saxon laws.
The prevailing tendency of the code was to secure to each man his lawful property, and to arm him with the means of protection. Yet it must be remarked as a strange inconsistency, in the midst of this anxiety to erect safeguards around property, that fraudulent debtors were granted a direct escape from liability to consequences. It was enacted, that if one man lent money to another, and the latter denied the loan, the ordeal should not apply; the oath of the defendant being deemed a sufficient release from the debt. This law was the more unaccountable in a country where the legal interest of money was forty per cent.,—a circumstance calculated to increase the motives to dishonesty.
Another enactment makes a distinction between the Varangians and Slavs, which illustrates the fact that the latter had always been more advanced in civilisation than the former. By this enactment, a Koblegian or a Varangian was compelled to take an oath where such a test was required, but a Slavonian was exempted. It would therefore appear, if the conclusion may be safely ventured upon, that judicial combats, which formed the final appeal when a defendant in a cause acquitted himself in the first instance by a solemn oath, were not adopted amongst the Slavs, who were satisfied with a public examination of facts, and an adjudication, without the sacred or the physical test. It is sufficient, however, for the great uses of historical inquiry, to know that a difference so remarkable between two branches of the people was recognised and confirmed by law.
One of the most important declarations of the code was that which divided the population into three classes—the nobles, the freemen, and the slaves. Of these three, the slaves alone were left unprotected. The freemen, who were fenced in from the encroachments of the nobles, were composed of the citizens, the farmers, the landholders, and hired servants. They were sub-classified into centuries, each of which elected a head, who filled an office equivalent to that of a tribune. The civil magistracy, thus created, had a separate guard of their own, and were placed, in virtue of their office, on an equality with the boyars. The city of Novgorod, which maintained, under a nominal princedom, the spirit of a republic, exhibited these municipal franchises in a more complete form than any of the Russian cities; all of which, however, possessed similar privileges, more or less modified according to their relative importance, or the circumstances under which their charters were granted. The chief of the Novgorodian republic was a prince of the blood; the title of his office was that of Namestnick. He took no share in the deliberations of the people, nor does it appear that he even possessed a veto upon their decisions. His oath of instalment bound him as the slave rather than the governor of the city; for it pledged him to govern agreeably to the constitution as he found it; to appoint none but Novgorodian magistrates in the provinces, and even these to be previously approved of by the Posadnick or mayor; to respect strictly the exclusive rights possessed by the citizens sitting in judgment on their own order, of imposing their own taxes, and of carrying on commerce at their own discretion; to interdict his boyars from acquiring landed property within the villages dependent on Novgorod, and to oblige them to travel at their private cost; to discourage immigration; and never to cause a Novgorodian to be arrested for debt. A princedom, accepted on such restrictive conditions, was but the shadow of a sceptre, as the municipal union of the legislative and judicial abundantly proved. The first officer was the Posadnick, or mayor, chosen by election for a limited time; the next was the Tisiatski, or tribune, who was a popular check upon the prince and mayor; and the rest of the functionaries consisted of the senate, the city assembly, and the boyars, all of whom were elective. By the electoral system, the people preserved a constant guard over the fidelity of their representatives in the senate, and their officers of justice; so that, while the three grades propounded by law were kept widely apart, and socially distinguished, the prerogatives of each were rigidly protected against innovation from the other two. All that this little republic required to render its security perfect, was liberty. It was based upon a system of slavery, and sustained its dominion more by fear than righteousness. Nor was it independent of control, although all its domestic concerns were uninterruptedly transacted within its own confines. It was an appanage of the grand princedom; but on account of its fortunate geographical position on the northern and northwestern frontiers, which were distant from the capital—a circumstance that delegated to Novgorod the defence of those remote boundaries—it acquired a degree of political importance that preserved it for four centuries against the cupidity of the succession of despots that occupied the throne. The removal of the seat of empire from Kiev to Vladimir, and finally to Moscow, by drawing the centre nearer to Novgorod, diminished its power by degrees, and finally absorbed it altogether.
One of the enactments of the code of Iaroslav will show what advances had been made towards the segregation of the people into different orders, and how much the government partook, or was likely to partake, of a mixed form, in which a monarchical, an hereditary, and a representative estate were combined.It made the prince the heir-at-law of every freeman who died without male issue, with the exception of the boyars and officers of the royal guard. By this regulation the prerogative of the crown was rendered paramount, while the hereditary rights of property were preserved unconditionally to the families of the nobles alone. A class of rich patricians was thus formed and protected, to represent, by virtue of birth, the interests of property; while commerce and popular privileges were fully represented in the assembly of the elected senators. The checks and balances of this system were pretty equal; so that, if the constitution of which these outlines were the elements, had been allowed to accumulate strength and to become consolidated by time, it would at last have resolved itself into a liberal and powerful form; the semi-savage usages with which it was encrusted would have dropped away, and wiser institutions have grown up in their stead.
So clearly were the popular benefits of the laws defined, that the code regulated the maximum demand which the proprietor of the soil might exact from his tenant; and it neither enforced taxation, nor recognised corporal punishment, nor in the composition of a pecuniary mulct admitted any distinction between the Varangians and the Slavs, who formed the aristocracy and the democracy. The prince neither possessed revenue nor levied taxes. He subsisted on the fines he imposed for infractions of law, on the tributes he received from his estates, on the voluntary offerings of the people, and the produce of such property as had fallen to the private title of the sovereignty. Even the tribute was not compulsory; it was rather a right derived from prescription. The only dependence of the lords of fiefs was in that they were compelled to render military service when required to the grand prince; and it was expected that they should come numerously attended, well armed, and provisioned. The tribute was the mark of conquest, and was not considered to imply taxation.
But while the monarchical principle was thus kept within proscribed limits, the power of the democracy was not sufficiently curbed: over both there was a check, but the hands of the prince were bound too tightly. His dominion was despotic, because he was surrounded by men devoted to his will; but the dominion of the people was boundless, because opinion was only in its rickety infancy, and the resistance to the offending prince lay in the demonstration of physical superiority instead of moral combination. They never hesitated to avail themselves of their numerical advantage. They even carried it to extravagance and licentiousness; and so much did they exult in their strength, that they regulated the hours at which the sovereign was permitted to enjoy relaxation, punished the obnoxious heads of the church by summary ejectment, and in several instances, taking the charter of law into their own keeping, deposed their princes. The checks, therefore, established in Iaroslav’s wise convention between the government and the constituency were overborne by the rudeness of the times.
That the period had arrived when laws were necessary to the settlement of the empire, was sufficiently testified by the circumstances, external and domestic, in which the people were placed. The adoption of Christianity had partially appeased the old passion for aggression against Constantinople, which, having now become the metropolis of their religion, was regarded with some degree of veneration by the Russians. A war of plundering Byzantium, therefore, could not be entertained with any prospect of success. The extension of the empire under Vladimir left little to be coveted beyond the frontiers, which spread to the east, north and south as far as even the wild grasp of the lawless tribes of the forests could embrace. To the west, theRussians had ceased to look for prey, since Boleslav, by his easy conquest of Kiev, had demonstrated the strength of Poland. Having acquired as much as they could, and having next, in the absence of warlike expeditions abroad, occupied themselves with ruthless feuds at home, they came at length to consider the necessity of consulting the security of possessions acquired at so much cost, and so often risked by civil broils. This was the time for a code of laws. But unfortunately there still existed too many remains of the barbarian era, to render the introduction of legal restraints a matter easy of accomplishment. The jealousy of Greek superiority survived the admission of the Greek religion. The longing after power still inspired the petty chiefs; and hopeless dreams of larger dominion wherewith to bribe the discontented, and provide for the hirelings of the state, still troubled the repose of the sovereign. The throne stood in a plain surrounded by forests, from whence issued, as the rage propelled them, hordes of newly reclaimed savages, pressing extraordinary demands, or threatening with ferocious violence the dawning institutions of civilisation. In such a position, it was not only impossible to advance steadily, but to maintain the ground already gained.
[1054A.D.]
Could the character of Iaroslav, the legislator, have been transmitted through his successors, the good of which he laid the seeds, might have been finally cultivated to maturity. But his wisdom and his virtues died with him. Nor, elevated as he was in moral dignity above the spirit of his countrymen, can it be said that he was free from weaknesses that marred much of the utility of his best measures. One of his earliest errors was the resignation of Novgorod to his son Vladimir, who had no sooner ascended the throne of the republican city, than, under the pretext of seeking satisfaction for the death of a Russian who had been killed in Greece, he carried arms into the Byzantine empire. The folly of this wild attempt was abundantly punished in the sequel; fifteen thousand men were sacrificed on the Grecian plains, and their chief hunted back disgracefully to his own territories. Yet this issue of one family grant did not awaken Iaroslav to the danger of partitioning the empire. Before his death he divided the whole of Russia amongst his sons, making, however, the younger sons subordinate to the eldest, as grand prince of Kiev, and empowering the latter to reduce the others to obedience by force of arms whenever they exhibited a disposition to dispute his authority.
This settlement, enforced with parting admonitions on his death-bed, was considered by Iaroslav to present a sufficient security against civil commotion and disputes about the succession. But he did not calculate upon the ungovernable lust for power, the jealousy of younger brothers, and the passion for aggrandisement. His injunctions were uttered in the amiable confidence of Christianity; they were violated with the indecent impetuosity of the barbarian nature.
With the death of Iaroslav, and the division of the empire, a new period of darkness and misrule began. The character of the legislator, which influenced his own time, was speedily absorbed in the general confusion. Iaroslav’s name was held in reverence, but the memory of his excellence did not awe the multitudes that, upon his decease, sprang from their retirement to revive the disastrous glories of domestic warfare. Much as he had done for the extension of Christianity, he had failed in establishing it in the heartsof the people. He was an able theologian, and well acquainted with the church ordinances, agenda, and other books of the Greek religion, many of which he caused to be translated into the Russian language, and distributed in copies over the country. So strong an interest did he take in the cultivation of the doctrines of the church, that he established a metropolitan at Kiev, in order to relieve the Russian people and their priests from the inconveniences of attending the residence of the ecclesiastical head at Constantinople, and also with a desire to provide for the more prompt and certain dissemination of the principles of faith. But the value of all these exertions expired with their author. He did much to raise the fame and consolidate the resources of the empire; but the last act of his political career, by which he cut away the cord that bound the rods, had the effect of neutralising all the benefits he meditated to accomplish, as well as those that he actually effected, for his country. His reign was followed by a period of savage anarchy that might be said to have resolved the half-civilised world into its original elements.k
[2]According to recent computations the Russian Empire covers an area of 8,660,000 square miles—about one sixth of the land surface of the globe.
[2]According to recent computations the Russian Empire covers an area of 8,660,000 square miles—about one sixth of the land surface of the globe.
[3][This treaty was not so favourable to the Russians as the one concluded with Oleg—a result, evidently, of the former defeat. Another point of importance is that it makes mention of Russian Christians, to whom there is no allusion in the treaty of 911. From this we may conclude that Christianity had spread largely during this interval.g]
[3][This treaty was not so favourable to the Russians as the one concluded with Oleg—a result, evidently, of the former defeat. Another point of importance is that it makes mention of Russian Christians, to whom there is no allusion in the treaty of 911. From this we may conclude that Christianity had spread largely during this interval.g]
[4][According to another Ms., Constantine, son of Lev.]
[4][According to another Ms., Constantine, son of Lev.]
[5]Ex. XXI, 17.
[5]Ex. XXI, 17.
[6][In the original Nestor always calls thus the sister of the emperors.]
[6][In the original Nestor always calls thus the sister of the emperors.]
[7][An antiquarian inquiry instituted by Catherine in 1794 resulted in proving that Tmoutarakan was situated on the isle of Taman, forming a key to the confluence of the sea of Azov with the Black Sea.k]
[7][An antiquarian inquiry instituted by Catherine in 1794 resulted in proving that Tmoutarakan was situated on the isle of Taman, forming a key to the confluence of the sea of Azov with the Black Sea.k]
[8]A copper coin, of the value, as near as we can ascertain, of about 4½d.of English money.
[8]A copper coin, of the value, as near as we can ascertain, of about 4½d.of English money.