Vladímir was Grand Prince of Kíev from 1113-1125. As his _Instruction to his Children_ shows, and as the chronicles witness, he was a very learned man for his time. From the letters of the metropolitan Nikifór to the Prince we also learn that he strictly carried out the rules which he brought to the attention of his posterity: he often slept on the ground, discarded sumptuous garments, and only on rare occasions wore the insignia of his office. He was well versed in Byzantine literature, for his _Instruction_ is not only after the fashion of older Byzantine _Testaments_, but many passages are taken directly from the writings of Basil the Great. This _Instruction_ is one of the most remarkable productions of early Russian literature, especially on account of the liberal spirit that pervades it, as compared, for example, with a similar, somewhat earlier document by St. Stephen of Hungary. This latter fact has served the Slavophiles as an important argument for the superiority of the Slavic spirit over that of the west of Europe. The _Instruction_ is included in Néstor’s Chronicle under the year 1096, but it has been conclusively proved that it is the work of Vladímir. Parts of the _Instruction_ are translated in A. P. Stanley’s _Lectures on the History of the Eastern Church_, London, 1861 (and often afterwards), and in N. H. Dole’s _Young Folks’ History of Russia_, Chicago, 1895. HIS INSTRUCTION TO HIS CHILDREN Being ill and about to seat myself in the sleigh,[10] I have considered in my soul and have praised God for having preserved me, sinful man, to this day. Do not make light of this instruction, my children, or anyone else who may hear it, but if it please any of you children, take it to heart, and give up indolence, and begin to work. Above all, for the sake of the Lord and your own souls, have the fear of the Lord in your hearts by doing unstinted charity, for that is the beginning of all good. If this instruction should not please any of you, be not angry but say thus: “Starting out on a distant journey and about to seat himself in the sleigh, he spoke this insipidity.” My brothers’ messengers met me on the Vólga and said: “Hasten to us that we may drive out the sons of Rostisláv,[11] and take away their patrimony, and if you go not with us, we shall stand alone, and you will be alone.” And I said: “Even though you may be angry, I cannot go with you and transgress the cross.” And having sent them away, I picked up a psalter in my sorrow, opened it, and these words were before me: “Why are you sad, my soul? Why are you grieved?” and so forth. And then I picked out words here and there, and put them in order, and I wrote: “If the latter things do not please you, accept the former....”