We can better measure the contributions of the Spanish travelers and historians who penetrated the jungles of the Chaco, crossed the pampas of the Plata region, scaled the Andes and followed the course of the Amazon, the Orinoco and the Paraná if we pause to consider that the vast American continent, even today, presents great, physical barriers to research. Most of the works here studied are the direct result of firsthand observation. An appreciable number, however, do not fall into this category. All of them, nevertheless, offer a rich variety of themes for they abound in descriptions of the land and climate of the United States, the region of the Californias, Mexico, Venezuela, the Guianas, the Gran Chaco, the lands of the Orinoco, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Chile, the countries of the Río de la Plata and the region of the Strait of Magellan. Interest in the flora and fauna of America, so prevalent during this century, is reflected in the numerous chapters devoted to detailed descriptions of plant and animal life. The study of the natural history of America, which had absorbed the interest of so many Spanish writers in preceding centuries, enjoyed a remarkable development under royal patronage during the eighteenth century. The scientific missions sent to America by the Spanish Crown, resulted in the monumental works of Hipólito Ruiz and José Pavón, Florae peruvianae et chilensis prodromus (1794) of which only three of twelve manuscript volumes have been published; Martín Sessé, Flora mexicana, unpublished, and the unpublished Flora de Santa Fe de Bogotá of José Celestino Mutis whom Baron Humboldt called the illustrious patriarch of American botanists.

The Panamanian Revolution of November 3, 1903, and the establishment of an independent republic under the aegis of the United States are well-known and often related events. Neither the scholar nor the polemicist has been guilty of neglecting this episode in history. The Revolution of 1903 was to Panamá, of course, the starting point of its history as a separate state; to Colombia, possession of the isthmus of Panamá seemed a sine qua non of national existence. Thus it is no surprise that writers in both countries should turn their attention to the circumstances of the separation of Panamá from Colombia. With the passage of over half a century we can assume that Panamanian and Colombian attitudes toward the Revolution, and the role of the United States in it, have undergone changes. It is hoped that by examining some of the books written by Panamanians and Colombians about their countries' histories in general, or the canal and isthmian politics in particular, the evolution of these changed, and still changing, attitudes will be illuminated.

Until the unsuccessful British invasion of Argentina in 1806-1807, Buenos Aires had been, for the non-Spanish peoples of the world, a mysterious, strange, unknown city, thousands of miles across the ocean. Except for a shipwrecked sailor or two, few Englishmen had had the opportunity of seeing that old colonial city prior to that time. Due to Spain's monopolistic trade policies with respect to her American possessions, trade with the New World, and even the right to reside there, except for a relatively brief period under Charles V, had been reserved for the subjects of the Spanish Crown.

Traveling on the Pan-American Highway from Mexico City to Puebla, the tourist may feel invited to stop at the small and somnolent town of Huejotzingo. After having succeeded in shaking off the vendors of gaudy sarapes and having tasted the local cider, he may walk around the typical plaza and then he will not fail to be attracted by the old fortress-like church belonging to the sixteenthcentury monastery. In the atrium a pleasant shade of old giant trees shields the visitor, refreshingly, from the tropical heat. As he wanders around, a bunch of youngsters, just dismissed by a friar clad in brown cloth, will watch him from a safe distance. First he will pause before the posas (secondary chapels) at the four corners of the atrium. As he approaches the church a rather sober façade awaits him. The interior of the nave, too, is meager; only a few colonial retablos try to hide the otherwise naked walls. But the gilded high altar with its paintings and carved sculptures still stands in its old place covering the entire rear wall of the apse and commands the admiration of everybody who enters the church.