sufficiently indicated his hostility to their liberal institutions. In like manner Rostof and Suzdal, the two chief cities of his State, were obnoxious to him on account of their Vetché. At the risk of alienating the more powerful of his boyars, he held his residence in the suburb or town of his own founding, alleging a divinely inspired dream and a miraculous interposition as directing him to this spot. He essayed to develop a new Kief out of his city, Vladimir on the Kliasma, by crowding it with monasteries, erecting a golden gate, and a Church of the Tithe, decorated by Byzantine and western artists. Recognizing the priesthood as a strong force in the civilization of a nation, he conferred wealth and honors upon it, and propitiated its favor. He made assumptions of unusual piety; practiced ostentatious vigils, and gave large alms in public. Commemorative feasts were established on the days of his more signal victories; and strenuous efforts were made to procure the religious supremacy of Suzdal, by instituting a Metropolitan at Vladimir. The Patriarch of Constantinople would not consent to this act, but later the Metropolitan for the Russia of the Forests was secured. The designs of Andrei were vast and premature. Ten generations of princes, ruling through four successive centuries, were required for their ultimate accomplishment. He outlined in the twelfth century what was executed in the sixteenth by Ivan the Fourth, the Terrible. Like the despots who were to spring from his loins, he had implacable enemies; and he was overtaken by the fate ever impending over the autocrats of the Orient and of Russia. His boyars, exasperated beyond measure by his iron tyranny, assassinated him in his favorite residence of Bogoliuboro (1174).

[To be continued.]

A GLANCE AT THE HISTORY AND LITERATURE OF SCANDINAVIA.

By L. A. SHERMAN, Ph. D.

III.—THE EASTERN VIKINGS—THE BEGINNINGS OF LITERATURE.

We have watched, in the dim twilight preceding the dawn of history, the coming of the first Norsemen to the sea. They are a spirited and fearless people, and they have chanced, if chance it is, to come to that sea on which navigation is most hazardous and difficult. We marvel they so quickly learn the arts of seamanship, and make the fierce new element their dwelling place. They seem now to have reached the country of their choice: its natural beauties kindle in their breasts an immediate and romantic response of affection. They are enamored of its wild haunts, its fjords and mountains, and they are inspired by the surging fury of the storm. But we witness, after a few centuries of comparative inaction, a strange transformation. The whole Norse people, without concert, without occasion, becomes a nation of wandering pirates. They urge forth their dragon ships, no matter whither, if only they shall find new foemen or new coasts. With the outbreak of this passion for booty and adventure we mark the beginning of the viking-age. We then count two weary centuries of violence and bloodshed, of plunder and conquest. A new continent is discovered and colonized, a Danish dynasty is set up in England, a Norwegian duchy is endowed in France. Thus we witness the decline—not in defeat, but in triumph, not by overthrow from without, but by suppression from within—of viking-supremacy in the West. It remains to speak of another chapter of viking-history, enacted during this same period in the East, and by vikings of the land.

In the ancient sagas frequent mention is made of Ostrogardia or Garderike. This was the modern Russia, then a barbarous wilderness, and inhabited by shifting tribes of Finns. Just at the beginning of the historical era a new people appears—the Slavs. It is another member of the Aryan family of nations, which has sent out already into Europe the Celtic, the Greek, the Roman, the Gothic, and the Scandinavian; and it is probably the last remnant of the race. These Slavs, already divided into various tribes, move westward, take possession of the country, and lay the foundation of the two cities of Novgorod and Kiev, destined later to become the capitals of two Slavonic empires. Three centuries pass. The Slavs have become attached to the home of their choice, and are beginning to develop a civilization. But it is the day of viking restlessness in the North, and Scandinavian rovers are moving eastward as well as south and west. In the early Russian chronicles we are told that in 859 A. D. a band of Varangians or Northmen, under the leadership of Rurik, invaded the country and began to spoil the native tribes. In due time they attack and capture Novgorod itself; but after a brief triumph the invaders, who were but a handful, were expelled by an uprising of the Slavs. Rurik and his followers made haste, not to return to Sweden, but to push their way southward through the wilderness, as many Northmen had done before. They reach Constantinople, and are welcomed as recruits for the imperial army. The vikings who had come before them had already won the praise and esteem of the imperial court; and so much do the Northmen grow in favor, that we soon find the emperor will entrust himself to no other guard of honor than a regiment of Varangian foot.

The Slavs and Finns in Novgorod meanwhile find the blessings of freedom harder to bear than the authority of their late conquerors. After two years of anarchy and internal dissension they send messengers to Constantinople, inviting the Norsemen, whom they had thrust out, to return and resume the government. “We have a goodly country,” say they, “and large. All we need is the strong arm to keep it orderly. Come, then, be our princes, and rule our state.” In response to this petition Rurik and his two brothers, Sindf and Truvor, with a large following of Varangian families, returned to Novgorod. Here Rurik established himself as supreme ruler; and to prevent the success of a fresh uprising of the Slavs, invited into the country a large accession of Varangian population. To his brothers he gave the principalities of Bielozero and Izborsk; but they soon dying, Rurik assumed again authority. So strong did this new Scandinavian kingdom become that we find ere long an army raised for the storming of Constantinople. The project was, however, abandoned, and the vikings who had planned it contented themselves with seizing the little province of Kiev. This also in a few years was brought under the dominion of Novgorod. Thus was laid the foundation of the great “Empire of All the Russias.” The bulk of the population was composed of Slavs and Finns: the nobles were Varangians, and Rurik was the first Czar.

It was but just that the superior race thus installed in the government of this vast region should give its name to the new nation. The first Varangians or Swedes who traversed Russia on their way to Constantinople had been called by the Finnish natives “Ruotsalaiset,” or Russians, from the name of the district (Roden or Rosen) whence they had come.[D] This name adhered to Rurik and his followers, and so the whole empire came finally to be called Russia. The line of Rurik