pored over maps and plans and pictures, and yet the reality will burst on
us like a revelation. This is true not only of mountains and glaciers, of
palaces and cathedrals, but even of the simplest examples.

For instance, like every one else, I had read descriptions and seen
photographs and pictures of the Pyramids. Their form is simplicity itself.
I do not know that I could put into words any characteristic of the
original for which I was not prepared. It was not that they were larger;
it was not that they differed in form, in color, or situation. And yet,
the moment I saw them, I felt that my previous impression had been but a
faint shadow of the reality. The actual sight seemed to give life to the
idea.

Every one who has been in the East will agree that a week of oriental
travel brings out, with more than stereoscopic effect, the pictures of
patriarchal life as given us in the Old Testament. And what is true of the
Old Testament is true of history generally. To those who have been in
Athens or Rome, the history of Greece or Italy becomes far more
interesting; while, on the other hand, some knowledge of the history and
literature enormously enhances the interest of the scenes themselves.

Good descriptions and pictures, however, help us to see much more than we
should perhaps perceive for ourselves. It may even be doubted whether some
persons do not derive a more correct impression from a good drawing or
description, which brings out the salient points, than they would from
actual, but unaided, inspection. The idea may gain in accuracy, in
character, and even in detail, more than it misses in vividness. But,
however this may be, for those who cannot travel, descriptions and
pictures have an immense interest; while to those who _have_ traveled,
they will afford an inexhaustible delight in reviving the memories of