after that, that he had
not seen it!

I happened, when there, to make some irreverent remarks about that tomb.
I had walked out to see it on a hot afternoon, and I found it
inconveniently far. One is accustomed to have these places "grouped,"
and I was displeased with _Juliet_ for not being buried nearer home--it
was an oversight--but perhaps it had been arranged for the benefit of
the carriage-drivers. _Juliet_ was public-spirited, and thought of all
classes, and their interests. I did not think of all these extenuating
circumstances then, however, and so I said unbelieving things about her
tomb.

The _custode_ was deeply pained, as an orthodox _custode_ ought to be.
He remonstrated with me first, and then he pointed to the wall. "_Ecco,
Signor! e scritto, e scritto e verissimo!_"

[Illustration: "ECCO, SIGNOR!"]

And there indeed it was written, in good set terms, and in two or three
languages, for the benefit of all non-literary or unbelieving pilgrims.

I have often thought since how many people there are, like my friend the
_custode_, to whom the magic "it is written" is sufficient ground for
their faith, without further consideration as to _when_ and _how_.

Some time ago a friend of mine encountered a portly Western American
tourist at Kenilworth. He came in a hurry, and asked to be shown the
part "wrote up" by Scott. He gazed for a few minutes, and then departed
as quickly as he came. To him Kenilworth was merely a place "wrote up"
by Scott, and no doubt he had Warwick and Stratford-on-Avon to see that
same afternoon, before going on to Liverpool.

There are pilgrims who certainly carry a feeling of duty into all
things. Wherever they go they mean work!

This quality pre-eminently distinguishes the English-speaking world, and
it always fills our Continental, or Oriental, neighbours with lazy
wonder. "Oh, these Englishwomen! they have legs and stomachs of bronze!"
I once heard an Italian say.

We are inclined to overdo it. I think an occasional rest-day is as
necessary to the tired brain as the photographer's dark room is to the
development of the negative impression--without it the brain would,
indeed, record a "_negative impression_."

But I am straying from _Juliet's_ tomb, and the subject of unlimited
faith. Only make a thing possible, and, _if there is an undercurrent of
desire to believe it_, the large majority will swallow almost anything
with what theologians call "simple faith." The "if" is