To the most of the American merchants their consul was “that ---- nigger.” To the British Consul he was always the representative of the U. S., and an individual in a trying and poverty-stricken position, and treated with corresponding courtesy and sympathy. En route to Brazil we saw posted in the Oxford, England, post-office, a notice warning all emigrants against going to Brazil until they had consulted the Home Office. A few months later we saw a steamer crowded with emigrants from Canada enter the Santos harbor. The State of São Paulo had sent out a statement of the need of agriculturalists. Misunderstanding of needs and conditions had brought about five hundred poor Canadians to this “Land of Warmth and Sunshine,” knowing nothing of agriculture, half-skilled in some trades, or well-skilled in trades useless in Brazil. The State fed them in barracks for a while, tried them on interior plantations, returned them to the barracks, tried to obtain other employment, but mostly to no avail. They sickened. Their feet festered with jiggers. They could not speak Portuguese. They were helpless. The British Consul had to send them home by twos, threes, tens, and scores, on tramp steamers, sailing-vessels--any way that they could work their passage or that he could secure the money to pay the passage of the women and children. A letter from an American in São Paulo, dated July 6th, 1900, says: “What does our government mean by sending out an Italian Priest as Consul to Santos? If he were only a priest who had practically withdrawn from active functions, it would not be so bad; but this one makes it his first duty to visit the newspapers and declare that he will not allow the duties of the consulate to interfere with his higher ecclesiastical functions, and, as proof of this, he left the duties of the office yesterday and came up to say a 30th day Mass for the soul of a person connected with the _Diario Popular_, and had it advertised far and near.” THE CITY OF SÃO PAULO.