RUINS AT PANAMA. 



157 



fice 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 with- 

 out difBculty, 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 

 gorgeous bath by the side of a dried up marble 

 fountain. It is not now easy to enter the con- 

 vent, owing to the piles of rubbish and thick fo- 

 liage which have usurped the place of the inhabit- 

 ants. The building seems to have been destroy- 

 ed by fire. Along the uneven ridge of the remain- 

 ing wall has sprung up spontaneously a row of 

 trees, giving a singular, and rather a wild and un- 

 natural appearance 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. 



