“In vain this pious mother spoke to her son of the happiness of being a Christian; of the peaceful spirit he would find in the worship of the true God.  ‘How can I,’ replied Sviatoslaf, ’make a profession of this new religion, which will expose me to the ridicule of all my companions in arms?’ In vain Olga urged upon him that his example might induce others to embrace the gospel of Christ.  The young prince was inflexible.  He made no effort to prevent others from becoming Christians, but did not disguise his contempt for the Christian faith, and so persistently rejected all the exhortations of his mother, whom he still tenderly loved, that she was at last forced to silence, and could only pray, in sadness, that God would open the eyes and touch the heart of her child.”

The young prince having attained his majority in the year 964, assumed the crown.  His soul was fired with the ambition of signalizing himself by great military exploits.  The blood of Igor, of Oleg and of Rurik coursed through his veins, and he resolved to lead the Russian arms to victories which should eclipse all their exploits.  He gathered an immense army, and looked eagerly around to find some arena worthy of the display of his genius.

His character was an extraordinary one, combining all the virtues of ancient chivalry; virtues which guided by Christian faith, constitute the noblest men, but which without piety constitute a man the scourge of his race. Fame was the God of Sviatoslaf.  To acquire the reputation of a great warrior, he was willing to whelm provinces in blood.  But he was too magnanimous to take any mean advantage of their weakness.  He would give them fair warning, that no blow should be struck, assassin-like, stealthily and in the dark.

He accustomed his body, Spartan-like, to all the fatigues and exposures of war.  He indulged in no luxury of tents or carriages, and ate the flesh of horses and wild beasts, which he roasted himself, over the coals.  In his campaigns the ground was his bed, the sky his curtain, his horse blanket his covering, and the saddle his pillow; and he seemed equally regardless of both heat and cold.  His soldiers looked to him as their model and emulated his hardihood.  Turning his attention first to the vast and almost unknown realms spreading out towards the East, he sent word to the tribes on the Don and the Volga, that he was coming to fight them.  As soon as they had time to prepare for their defense he followed his word.  Here was chivalric crime and chivalric magnanimity.  Marching nine hundred miles directly east from Kief, over the Russian plains, he came to the banks of the Don.  The region was inhabited by a very powerful nation called the Khozars.  They were arrayed under their sovereign, on the banks of the river to meet the foe.  The Khozars had even sent for Greek engineers to aid them in throwing up their fortifications; and they were in an intrenched camp constructed with much military skill.  A bloody