d to be a distinctive
trait of this warlike people. They bring vividly before the imagination,
the ancient Poles, as we find them described in their chronicles; gifted
with powerful organizations, subtle intellects, indomitable courage and
earnest piety, mingled with high-born courtesy and a gallantry which
never deserted them, whether on the eve of battle, during its exciting
course, in the triumph of victory, or amidst the gloom of defeat. So
inherent was this gallantry and chivalric courtesy in their nature, that
in spite of the restraint which their customs (resembling those of
their neighbours and enemies, the infidels of Stamboul) induced them to
exercise upon their women, confining them in the limits of domestic
life and always holding them under legal wardship, they still
manifest themselves in their annals, in which they have glorified
and immortalized queens who were saints; vassals who became queens,
beautiful subjects for whose sake some periled, while others lost,
crowns: a terrible Sforza; an intriguing d'Arquien; and a coquettish
Gonzaga.

The Poles of olden times united a manly firmness with this peculiar
chivalric devotion to the objects of their love. A characteristic
example of this may be seen in the letters of Jean Sobieski to his wife.
They were dictated in face of the standards of the Crescent, "numerous
as the ears in a grain-field," tender and devoted as is their character.
Such traits caught a singular and imposing hue from the grave deportment
of these men, so dignified that they might almost be accused of
pomposity. It was next to impossible that they should not contract a
taste for this stateliness, when we consider that they had almost
always before them the most exquisite type of gravity of manner in the
followers of Islam, whose qualities they appreciated and appropriated,
even while engaged in repelling their invasions. Like the infidel, they
knew how to preface their acts by an intelligent deliberation, so that
the device of Prince Boleslas of Pomerania, was always present to them:
"First weigh it; then dare:" Erst wieg's: dann wag's! Such deliberation
imparted a kind of stately pride to their movements, while it left
them in possession of an ease and freedom of spirit accessible to the
lightest cares of tenderness, to the most trivial interests of the
passing hour, to the most transient feelings of the heart. As it made
part of their code of honor to make those who interfered with them