letting the water out of the lake. To keep spies from dynamiting the gates, the locks will be lighted by electricity at night, and guarded at all times by sentries. In case of an attack on the lock-guard by a strong body of men, reinforcements could be quickly brought, by road, rail, or water, from the central camp at Culebra. Here the main body of the garrison is to be encamped, across the Canal from the present town of Culebra, which, together with nearly all the rest of the settlements in the Canal Zone, is to be abandoned, both because of the relocation of the railroad, and for military reasons. The entire country will be allowed to grow up again into thick jungle, through which no civilized army, encumbered with horses and cannon, could cut a path without giving our men plenty of time and warning to prepare a very warm reception.
It is a strange and melancholy fact that we in the twentieth century should deliberately let our borders grow up into forests to keep our neighbors at a distance, even as our barbarous German ancestors did, two thousand years ago. Some day humanity may become sufficiently civilized to establish universal peace. But until then, we must not forget that Panama has always been seized and held by the strong hand. The Isthmus to-day is a thousand times richer and more tempting a prize than it was in the time of Drake or Morgan, and though piracy has gone out of fashion, war has not. When we can turn the regular army into a police force, sell the navy for old iron, and take the big guns from Sandy Hook and the Golden Gate, we can leave the Panama Canal to be protected by the Zone Police,—but not be-
