THE JESUITS' COLLEGE. 



31 



what it pleased the Council of the Indies to mea- 

 sure thriftily out across the isthmus, Panama, being 

 the sole port of transit, prospered greatly ; but 

 now that the navigation of Cape Horn is rendered 

 easy and secure, and is free to the whole world 

 except to the short-sighted Spaniards themselves, 

 innumerable vessels contrive to search out every 

 nook in the coast, and supply it with goods infi- 

 nitely cheaper than Panama can furnish them. 

 The situation certainly possesses advantages, which, 

 in process of time, may be turned to great commer- 

 cial account, and Panama will probably become 

 greater than ever : but such greatness must now 

 be shared with many competitors ; and its pre-emi- 

 nence can never be acknowledged again ; because 

 the policy by which it was aggrandized at the ex- 

 pense of other cities cannot by any possibility be 

 revived. If ever Panama recovers its former 

 wealth, it must be by fair and active competition, 

 and she may then, without injustice as heretofore, 

 indulge in that luxurious and tasteful splendour 

 which displays itself in fine public edifices, and of 

 which there remain more genuine traces here than 

 even in Lima, " the city of the kings," with all its 

 tinsel and pretension. 



The finest ruin at Panama is that of the Jesuits' 

 College, a large and beautiful edifice, which, how- 

 ever, was never finished ; yet the melancholy in- 

 terest which it inspires is rather augmented than 

 diminished by that circumstance ; for it reminds 

 us not only of the destruction of the great order 

 which founded it, but also of the total decay of 

 Spanish taste and wealth, which accompanied that 

 event. The college is a large quadrangular build- 

 ing, which had been carried to the height of two 

 stories, and was probably to have been surmounted 

 by a third. The ornamental part of the building 

 is in a pure and simple taste : neat cornices, with 

 high mouldings, are carried round the work about 

 and below the windows, which are very numerous, 

 and some of them crossed by gothic mullions ; the 

 corners also, and the stones over the doors, are 

 relieved by mouldings. From each angle of the 

 building, and from the middle of each side, there 

 projects a solid square tower, resting upon arches 

 based on the ground, through which carriages 

 might drive. Taken as a whole, it has a compact, 

 massy, and graceful appearance ; not dissimilar in 

 general effect to that of a Grecian temple, though 

 totally different in its structure. The details are 

 executed with neatness and delicacy, but there is 

 no frippery about the ornamental carving, and 

 every part appears to contribute to the grandeur 

 of the whole. As the work has been carried on 

 to the same height all round, no part of the walls 

 is higher than the rest ; and although the court is 

 thickly overgrown with trees and shrubs, and the 

 walls are matted with creepers aud brilliant flowers, 

 the edifice cannot, in strictness, be called a ruin, 

 since every stone retains its original place. 



In a field a little beyond the square, on the side 

 opposite to the college, stand the remains of a 

 church and convent, which is reached, not without 

 difficulty, by wading breast-high through a field 

 of weeds and flowers, which, in this climate, shoot 

 up with wonderful quickness. In the course of 

 this scramble, I came unexpectedly upon a gor- 

 geous bath, by the side of a dried-up marble 

 fountain. It is not now easy to enter the convent, 

 owing to the piles of rubbish and thick foliage 



which have usurped the place of the inhabitants. 

 The building seems to have been destroyed by fire. 

 Along the uneven ridge of the remaining wall has 

 sprung up spontaneously a row of trees, giving a 

 singular and rather a wild and unnatural appear- 

 ance to this immense ruin. 



In some districts of the town of Panama, whole 

 streets are allowed to fall into neglect ; grass has 

 grown over most parts of the pavement, and even 

 the military works are crumbling fast to decay. 

 Everything, in short, tells the same lamentable 

 story of former splendour, and of present poverty. 

 The desolation was in some respects as complete 

 as that of Conception, described in Chapter XXIV. 

 The slow, though sure, results of national decline, 

 are visible in one place — the rapid effect of war in 

 the other ; in both the withering consequences of 

 misgovernment are distinctly to be traced. 



On my return, I fell in with one of the merchants 

 of the place, who insisted upon taking me home 

 with him to breakfast. His wife did the honours, 

 and made tea in the English fashion, but she did 

 not carry her complaisance so far as to drink any 

 of it herself. Her husband was a very intelligent 

 person, who had studied particularly the question 

 of cutting a passage across the isthmus ; and had 

 actually examined several of the proposed lines. He 

 seemed to consider the passage at the narrowest 

 point, which on the map looks so tempting, as by 

 no means the best. In the mean time, he was of 

 opinion, that an immense and immediate advantage 

 would be gained by making a good road from sea 

 to sea across the isthmus ; which might be done 

 very easily, and at an expense incalculably less 

 than a canal could be cut, under the most favour- 

 able circumstances, while many of the advantages 

 of a canal would at once be gained by this road. 

 The question of opening a communication has been 

 ably discussed by Humboldt, in his New Spain, 

 Vol. I., and subsequently by Mr. Robinson, in 

 Chapter XIII. of his excellent account of the 

 Mexican Revolution ; but I had no opportunity of 

 examining in person any of the points alluded to 

 by these writers, or of gaining any new information 

 on the subject. 



During the morning, it was much too hot to 

 move about with any comfort, but towards sunset, 

 all the world strolled about to enjoy the delightful 

 air of the brief twilight, along some charming walks 

 in the woods, beyond the suburbs, the scenery about 

 which was of the richest description of tropical 

 beauty. The night closed in upon us with a pre- 

 cipitancy unknown in higher latitudes : but before 

 we reached the drawbridge at the entrance of the 

 town, the moon had risen, and the landscape be- 

 came even more beautiful than before. It is in 

 moon-light evenings that the climate of the tropics 

 is most delightful. In the morning the air is 

 somewhat chill — in the middle of the day, it is im- 

 possible to stir out of doors — but after the sun has 

 set, the full luxury and enjoyment of the climate 

 are felt. 



About a fortnight before our arrival, a consider- 

 able detachment of Bolivar's troops had entered 

 the town ; they had formed a part of the army so 

 long engaged in the dreadful revolutionary wars of 

 Venezuela, and especially in that province of it 

 called Caracas, between the Royalists and Patriots. 

 I made acquaintance with several English officers 

 belonging to this force, who had gone through the 



