thin the British Isles. This will save excessive freight rates, keep
down the costly-tariff "overhead," and get the benefit of all the
goodwill accruing from the employment of British labour.

A by-product of British exclusion is the inauguration of a
Made-in-England campaign. Buy a hat in Regent Street or Oxford Street
and you see stamped on the inside band the words, "British Manufacture."
This English crusade is more likely to succeed than our Made-in-U.S.A.
attempt, for the simple reason that the government is squarely behind
it.

This same spirit dominates newspaper publicity. You find a British
fountain pen glowingly proclaimed in a big display advertisement,
illustrated with the picture of men trundling boxes of gold down to a
waiting steamer. Alongside are these words:

"The man who buys a foreign-made fountain pen is paying away gold, even
if the money he hands across the counter is a Treasury note. The British
shop may get the paper; the foreign manufacturer gets gold for all the
pens he sends over here. What is the sense of carrying an empty
sovereign-purse in one pocket if you put a foreign-made fountain pen in
another?"

Behind all this British exclusion is an old prejudice against our wares.
There has never been any secret about it. I found a large body of
opinion headed by brilliant men who have bidden farewell to the
Hands-Across-the-Sea sentiment; who have little faith in the theory that
blood is thicker than water when it comes to a keen commercial clash.

What of the human element behind the whole British awakening? Will
organised labour, an ancient sore on the British body, rise up and
complicate these well-laid schemes for economic expansion? As with the
question of practicability of the Paris Pact, there is a wide difference
of opinion.

On one hand, you find the air full of the menace of post-war
unemployment and the problem of replacing the woman worker by the man
who went away to fight. To offset this, however, there will be the
undoubted scarcity of male help due to battle or disease, and the
inevitable emigration of the soldier, desirous of a free and open life,
to the Colonies.

On the other hand, there is the conviction that unrestricted output,
having registered its golden returns, will be the rule, not the
exception, among the English artisans. England's frenzied desire for
economic authority proclaims a job for everybody.

I asked a member of the British Cabinet, a man perhaps b