Although, in the distribution of mandated territory, considerable ingenuity was utilised in reconciling vested and imperial interests, the general public were not particularly interested in the matter, and in consequence very little publicity was given to the question. This is to be regretted, in that, in the opinion of the writer, that question more vitally affects every inhabitant of the British Isles than any scheme of Reparations, any theory of Balance of Power, or any dream of a League of Nations. If this opinion, and the grounds upon which it is based, can be sufficiently advertised, there will be possibly more attention paid to what is one of the greatest practical problems of the peace than has hitherto been the case, and more sympathy displayed in the struggles of those who, in bad climates at times, and under bad conditions always, are endeavouring to retain in a healthy condition those industries that will in the future become more or less the life-blood of the Empire.

As the standard of living improves in temperate climates, the cost of production of raw materials in those regions increases almost proportionally, retarded only by the small economies that machinery, improved methods and co-operation in the provision of power can effect. The use of substitutes from the tropics is therefore essential, if the standard of living is not to retrogress under economic pressure. Imperially speaking, then, the conservation and development of our tropical assets is a paramount duty. Whether that duty has not been seriously neglected in the past may be an open question, but that it is entirely overlooked at the present moment—Exhibition or no Exhibition —is a tragically patent fact.

The state of the Catholic Church in Latin-American countries is so often and so glibly misrepresented by ‘our separated brethren’ who sometimes succeed in misleading even Catholics, that it may be of interest to some to read the impressions of one who spent some two years in Peru, several months in Chile, and made short visits to Panama, Brazil and Argentina.

Some of the impressions gained are necessarily superficial, as they were gleaned in the course of visits of no more than a few days’ duration in Panama, Rio de Janeiro and Buenos Aires. In Chile, however, and still more in Peru, there was more time and more opportunity for observation, conversation and the forming of definite opinions.

Setting forth from San Francisco for that most fascinating voyage down the coast of Mexico and South America to Callao, I had considerable misgivings as to the state of affairs I might expect to find upon my arrival in Peru, and I carried with me a plentiful supply of prejudice. Arriving at Panama early one Sunday morning, I took the electric tram to the old Spanish city in order to hear Mass. It was half-past eight, and, to my dismay, the policeman of whom I enquired my way to a church informed me that I was too late, there were no more Masses. A kindly passer-by, however, told me that at nine the Bishop of X would be present at Mass in the Church of Las Mercedes; so thither I went, thankful to exchange the torrid, sweltering streets for the cool bareness of the church with its glassless windows. The edifice was already packed, but a well-dressed negro courteously insisted on giving me his place.