Only those who have travelled with him could know what a delightful comrade
he was to men whose tastes ran more or less parallel to his own. It was not
everybody who could travel with him; for he was so irrepressibly anxious
not to lose a moment of the time at his disposal for gathering into his
garners the beauty and interest of the lands over which he journeyed, that
he was careless of comfort and health. Calabria, Sicily, the Desert of
Sinai, Egypt and Nubia, Greece and Albania, Palestine, Syria, Athos,
Candia, Montenegro, Zagori (who knows now where Zagori is, or was?), were
as thoroughly explored and sketched by him as the more civilized localities
of Malta, Corsica, and Corfu. He read insatiably before starting all the
recognized guide-books and histories of the country he intended to draw;
and his published itineraries are marked by great strength and literary
interest quite irrespectively of the illustrations. And he had his reward.
It is not any ordinary journalist and sketcher who could have compelled
from Tennyson such a tribute as lines "To E.L. on his Travels in Greece":--
"Illyrian woodlands, echoing falls
Of water, sheets of summer glass,
The long divine Peneian pass,
The vast Akrokeraunian walls,
"Tomohrit, Athos, all things fair,
With such a pencil, such a pen,
You shadow forth to distant men,
I read and felt that I was there.
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