It requires a stout heart to bear up against such misfortunes, and at the same time to support the heavy burden which is added in that bitter sense of wrong and injustice, which comes again and again, under such circumstances, to ask for revenge or retribution. But Pultova was not only a man of energy in the field--he was something better--a man of that moral courage which enabled him to contend against weakness of heart in the hour of trouble. I shall best make you understand his feelings and character by telling you how he spoke to his children, a few weeks after their arrival. “My dear Alexis,” said he, “you complain for want of books, that you may pursue your studies and occupy your mind: how can we get books in Siberia, and that without money? You are uneasy for want of something to do--some amusement or occupation;--think, my boy, how many of our countrymen are at this very hour in dungeons, their limbs restrained by chains, and not only denied books and amusement, but friends, the pure air, nay the very light of heaven! Think how many a noble Polish heart is now beating and fluttering, like a caged eagle, against the gratings that confine it--how many a hero, who seemed destined to fill the world with his glorious deeds, is now in solitude, alone, emaciated, buried from the world’s view, and lost to all existence, save that he still feels, suffers, despairs--and all this without a friend who may share his sorrow! How long and weary is a single day to you, Alexis; think how tedious the hours to the prisoner in the prolonged night of the dungeon!” “Dear father,” said Alexis; “this is dreadful--but how can it help our condition? It only shows us that there is deeper sorrow than ours.” “Yes, Alexis; and from this contrast we may derive consolation. Whether it be rational or not, still, by contemplating these deeper sorrows of our fellow-men, and especially of our fellow-countrymen, we may alleviate our own. But let me suggest another subject for contemplation: what are we to do for food, Alexis? My money is entirely gone except five dollars, and this can last for only a few weeks.” “Why, father, I can do something, surely.” “Well, what can you do?” “I do not know--I cannot say; I never thought of it before. Cannot you borrow some money?” “No; and if I could I would not. No, no, Alexis, our circumstances have changed. It is the will of God. We are now poor, and we must toil for a subsistence. It is a grievous change--but it is no disgrace, at least. We are indeed worse off than the common laborer, for our muscles are not so strong as his; but we must give them strength by exercise. We have pride and long habit to contend with; but these we must conquer. It is weakness, it is folly, to yield to circumstances. If the ship leaks, we must take to the boat. Heaven may prosper our efforts, and bring us, after days of trial, to a safe harbor. But my greatest anxiety is for poor Kathinka.”