ACCIDENT IN A FOREST.163

the great is Siberia; and Siberia itself is only an exaggeration of Russia.

I am writing in the middle of a forest, many leagues from any habitation. We are stopped in a deep bed of sand by an accident that has happened to my carriage ; and while my valet is, with the aid of a peasant whom Heaven has sent us, repairing the damage, I, who am humbled by the want of resources which I find within myself for such an occurrence, and who feel that I should only be in the way of the workmen if I attempted to assist them, take up my pen to prove the inutility of mental culture, when man, deprived of all the accessories of civilisation, is obliged to struggle, without any other resource but his own strength, against a wild nature, still- armed with all the primitive power that it received from God.

As I have before said, handsome female peasants are scarce in Russia; but, when they are handsome, their beauty is perfect. The oval shape of their eyes imparts a peculiar expression ; the eye-lid is finely and delicately chiselled, but the blue of the pupil is often clouded, which reminds one of the ancient Sarmatians, as described by Tacitus : this hue gives to their veiled 2;lanees a gentleness and an inno-cenee, the charm of which is irresistible. They possess all the vague and shadowy delicacy of the women of the north, united with all the voluptuousness of the Oriental females. The expression of kindness in these ravishing creatures inspires a singular feeling — a mixture of respect and confidence. He must visit the interior of Russia who would know the real gifts of the primitive man, and all that the refine-


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