Panama to Patagonia

by Charles M. Pepper

Church of San Augustin, Lima

The monastery covers several squares. The contemplative, meditative life of the Middle Ages no longer exists. The friars are engaged chiefly in charitable work. The jovial priest who was assigned to be our guide enjoyed having visitors. He explained that the incandescent electric lights had been adopted because they were cheaper than candles, and the Order, being poor, had to economize. But the monks in their cells are still restricted to the tallow dips. He courteously asked us to take afternoon tea with him. Here certainly was an innovation. We hesitated, but he pressed us so heartily that there was no escape. When the bell sounded, we passed into the refectory, were seated on a wooden bench alongside the board table, and were served with coffee and a slice of bread. The friars filed in, bowed politely, and took their places. Some of them looked with evident surprise at our host and his guests, but none with reproof. To ourselves our presence seemed incongruous, yet as a variation of the monotonous routine of their daily life it did not appear unwelcome to the Franciscans. We chatted in an undertone for a while, and on our departing the monks all rose and bowed. My companion, though a persona grata to the monastery and well acquainted with the priests, was as much surprised at our novel experience as myself. He never had heard of a layman or a visitor taking afternoon tea or coffee with the friars.

The patron saint of Lima was Father Francis Solano, the founder of the Franciscan Order in Peru, and the missionary who went through toils unutterable in seeking to Christianize the Indians. I was shown the cell in which he died, and then (a somewhat rare privilege) was permitted to see his skull. Newspapers are received within the walls of the monastery, because, as the good father explained to me, in these stirring days it is necessary to be en rapport with what is going on in the outside world in order to do good works. Some of the friars read English.

Independence Monument, Lima

Until recently Lima was not a progressive municipality. It preserved the old Spanish traditions of dirt and indifference. But it had an awakening. Public works, such as befit a city of its political and commercial importance, were initiated. A loan for municipal improvements was taken by the local banks. This was gratifying, but the improvements themselves were more gratifying. The town is becoming an industrial centre, with many small factories as the basis.

A very important factor in the progress is the Lima Chamber of Commerce, whose members include all the leading merchants, both native and foreign. The Chamber has exercised a marked influence on the fiscal policy of Peru, and the Government with its coöperation has been able to strengthen the credit of the country abroad and to carry through the measures which are the basis of the commercial and industrial revival that has been enjoyed. Without the aggressive support of this body the establishment of the gold standard scarcely would have been secured. Its advice with regard to the negotiation of commercial treaties to which Peru aspires is valuable, and its suggestions concerning administrative reforms in the customs usually receive respectful attention. I do not know any nation where the business man in public affairs—not in partisan politics—fulfils his proper functions so well as in Peru, and this is done through the concentration in the Chamber of Commerce.

In the public works municipal sanitation is a leading feature. That is good. The death rate of Lima, in spite of a healthful climate, is disproportionately high. The returns show a birth rate of 28.37 as compared with a death rate of 37.43. The ignorance of the poorer classes of the proper means of living is not the only cause of this high death proportion, but they have to be taught hygiene, and the municipality has to lead the way.

The climate of Lima merits the praises given it, yet the Winter season from June to September is raw and disagreeable and especially bad for rheumatism. Tuberculosis claims many victims. The legend is that rain never falls, that the dews and the moisture from the clouds, which is not precipitated, and the fogs on the coast, take the place of rain. This is not quite true. Sometimes there is actual rain and sometimes a drizzle. Minister Dudley and I had the proof two successive evenings, when we were out to dinner and had our high hats spoiled through our failure to carry umbrellas.