Carlyle has a remark to the effect that from the way in which a man, of
some wide thing that he has witnessed, will construct a narrative, what
kind of picture and delineation he will give of it, is the best measure
we can get of the man's intellect.[19] Certainly from a record of travel
one can form a tolerably correct estimate of the character, disposition,
and faculties of the traveller. On every page of her book, for example,
Madame de Bourboulon reveals herself as a woman of some culture, of a
cheerful temper, a lively apprehension, and refined mind. Her keen
remarks indicate that she has been accustomed to good society. Speaking
of the daughter of the Governor of Krasuviarsk, she observes:--"She
would be charming, if she did not wear a hat with feathers and white
aigrettes, so _empanache_ as to have a very curious effect on her blonde
and roguish (_espiegle_) head." She adds, "Wherever I have travelled I
have observed that the so-called Parisian modes, the most eccentric
things and in the worst possible taste, were assumed by ladies of the
most remote countries, where they arrive completely made up, though it
is not possible for their makers to ascertain if they will be acceptable
to the public. Hence the heterogeneous toilets of strangers who land in
Paris, persuaded that they are dressed in the latest fashion."

At Atchinsk, which separates East from West Siberia, the travellers were
received with graceful hospitality, but made no lengthened stay. Onward
they sped, over the perpetual plains, intersected by forests of firs and
countless water-courses. At Tomsk their reception was not less cordial
than it had been at Irkutsk. Next they plunged into the immense marshes
of Baraba; into a dreary succession of lakes, and pools, and swamps,
blooming with a luxurious vegetation and a marvellous profusion of wild
flowers, each more beautiful than the other, but swarming, unhappily,
with a plague of insects eager to drink the blood of man or beast.
Madame de Bourboulon had a cruel proof of their activity, though she had
fortified her face with a mask of horsehair, and thrust her hands into
the thickest gloves. "I was seated in a corner," she says, "wrapped up
in my coverings; I lift the window-sash of one of the doors; the air is
close and warm, the night dark; black clouds, charged with electricity,
roll above me, and the wind brings to me the marsh-odours acrid and yet
flat.... Gradually I fall asleep; I have kept on my