o wrote the letters of Junius." Pressed for
further counsel he added, "Nor yet who was the man in the iron mask"--and
he would say no more. Don't bore people. And yet I am by no means sure
that a good many people do not think themselves ill-used unless he who
addresses them has thoroughly well bored them--especially if they have
paid any money for hearing him. My great namesake said, "Surely the
pleasure is as great of being cheated as to cheat," and great as the
pleasure both of cheating and boring undoubtedly is, I believe he was
right. So I remember a poem which came out some thirty years ago in
_Punch_, about a young lady who went forth in quest to "Some burden make
or burden bear, but which she did not greatly care, oh Miserie." So,
again, all the holy men and women who in the Middle Ages professed to
have discovered how to make the best of life took care that being bored,
if not cheated, should have a large place in their programme. Still
there are limits, and I close not without fear that I may have exceeded
them.

THE SANCTUARY OF MONTRIGONE {6}

The only place in the Valsesia, except Varallo, where I at present
suspect the presence of Tabachetti {7} is at Montrigone, a little-known
sanctuary dedicated to St. Anne, about three-quarters of a mile south of
Borgo-Sesia station. The situation is, of course, lovely, but the
sanctuary does not offer any features of architectural interest. The
sacristan told me it was founded in 1631; and in 1644 Giovanni d'Enrico,
while engaged in superintending and completing the work undertaken here
by himself and Giacomo Ferro, fell ill and died. I do not know whether
or no there was an earlier sanctuary on the same site, but was told it
was built on the demolition of a stronghold belonging to the Counts of
Biandrate.

The incidents which it illustrates are treated with even more than the
homeliness usual in works of this description when not dealing with such
solemn events as the death and passion of Christ. Except when these
subjects were being represented, something of the latitude, and even
humour, allowed in the old mystery plays was permitted, doubtless from a
desire to render the work more attractive to the peasants, who were the
most numerous and most important pilgrims. It is not until faith begins
to be weak that it fears an occasionally lighter treatment of semi-sacred
subjects, and it is impossible to convey an accurate idea of the spirit
prevaili