e two great oceans of the world. I have read and
heard many accounts of old endeavours to effect this important and
gigantic work, and how miserably they failed. It was reserved for the
men of our age to accomplish what so many had died in attempting, and
iron and steam, twin giants, subdued to man's will, have put a girdle
over rocks and rivers, so that travellers can glide as smoothly, if
not as inexpensively, over the once terrible Isthmus of Darien, as
they can from London to Brighton. Not yet, however, does civilization,
rule at Panama. The weak sway of the New Granada Republic, despised by
lawless men, and respected by none, is powerless to control the refuse
of every nation which meet together upon its soil. Whenever they feel
inclined now they overpower the law easily; but seven years ago, when
I visited the Isthmus of Panama, things were much worse, and a licence
existed, compared to which the present lawless state of affairs is
enviable.

When, after passing Chagres, an old-world, tumble-down town, for about
seven miles, the steamer reached Navy Bay, I thought I had never seen
a more luckless, dreary spot. Three sides of the place were a mere
swamp, and the town itself stood upon a sand-reef, the houses being
built upon piles, which some one told me rotted regularly every three
years. The railway, which now connects the bay with Panama, was then
building, and ran, as far as we could see, on piles, connected with
the town by a wooden jetty. It seemed as capital a nursery for ague
and fever as Death could hit upon anywhere, and those on board the
steamer who knew it confirmed my opinion. As we arrived a steady
down-pour of rain was falling from an inky sky; the white men who met
us on the wharf appeared ghostly and wraith-like, and the very negroes
seemed pale and wan. The news which met us did not tempt me to lose
any time in getting up the country to my brother. According to all
accounts, fever and ague, with some minor diseases, especially dropsy,
were having it all their own way at Navy Bay, and, although I only
stayed one night in the place, my medicine chest was called into
requisition. But the sufferers wanted remedies which I could not give
them--warmth, nourishment, and fresh air. Beneath leaky tents, damp
huts, and even under broken railway waggons, I saw men dying from
sheer exhaustion. Indeed, I was very glad when, with the morning, the
crowd, as the Yankees called the bands of pilgrims to and from