My Dear Doctor:--

This translation, of one of the greatest novels of Poland's foremost
modern writer, Henryk Sienkiewicz, I beg to dedicate to you. Apart for my
high personal regard for you, my reason for selecting you among all my
literary friends, is: that you are a historian and philosopher, and can
therefore best appreciate works of this kind.

SAMUEL A. BINION,

New York City.




To the Reader.

Here you have, gentle reader--old writers always called you
gentle--something very much more than a novel to amuse an idle hour. To
read it will be enjoyable pastime, no doubt; but the brilliant romance of
the brilliant author calls upon you for some exercise of the finest
sympathy and intelligence; sympathy for a glorious nation which, with
only one exception, has suffered beyond all other nations; intelligence,
of the sources of that unspeakable and immeasurable love and of the great
things that may yet befall before those woes are atoned for and due
punishment for them meted out to their guilty authors.

Poland! Poland! The very name carries with it sighings and groanings,
nation-murder, brilliance, beauty, patriotism, splendors, self-sacrifice