There was never a history more free from political bloodshed than the history of the Polish State, which never knew either feudal institutions or feudal quarrels.  At the time when heads were falling on the scaffolds all over Europe there was only one political execution in Poland—­only one; and as to that there still exists a tradition that the great Chancellor who democratised Polish institutions, and had to order it in pursuance of his political purpose, could not settle that matter with his conscience till the day of his death.  Poland, too, had her civil wars, but this can hardly be made a matter of reproach to her by the rest of the world.  Conducted with humanity, they left behind them no animosities and no sense of repression, and certainly no legacy of hatred.  They were but a recognised argument in political discussion and tended always towards conciliation.

I cannot imagine, whatever form of democratic government Poland elaborates for itself, that either the nation or its leaders would do anything but welcome the closest scrutiny of their renewed political existence.  The difficulty of the problem of that existence will be so great that some errors will be unavoidable, and one may be sure that they will be taken advantage of by its neighbours to discredit that living witness to a great historical crime.  If not the actual frontiers, then the moral integrity of the new State is sure to be assailed before the eyes of Europe.  Economical enmity will also come into play when the world’s work is resumed again and competition asserts its power.  Charges of aggression are certain to be made, especially as related to the small States formed of the territories of the Old Republic.  And everybody knows the power of lies which go about clothed in coats of many colours, whereas, as is well known, Truth has no such advantage, and for that reason is often suppressed as not altogether proper for everyday purposes.  It is not often recognised, because it is not always fit to be seen.

Already there are innuendoes, threats, hints thrown out, and even awful instances fabricated out of inadequate materials, but it is historically unthinkable that the Poland of the future, with its sacred tradition of freedom and its hereditary sense of respect for the rights of individuals and States, should seek its prosperity in aggressive action or in moral violence against that part of its once fellow-citizens who are Ruthenians or Lithuanians.  The only influence that cannot be restrained is simply the influence of time, which disengages truth from all facts with a merciless logic and prevails over the passing opinions, the changing impulses of men.  There can be no doubt that the moral impulses and the material interests of the new nationalities, which seem to play now the game of disintegration for the benefit of the world’s enemies, will in the end bring them nearer to the Poland of this war’s creation, will unite them sooner or later by a spontaneous movement towards the State which had adopted and brought them up in the development of its own humane culture—­the offspring of the West.